Chapter 7 – Emotional Overload

September 4th 2009: Molly

Why then? Why in all the time he had to turn up back at school did my idiot boyfriend choose then? As I walked away from the table to the doors of the library, I hoped that Seb had picked up on my gesture. The hand on his shoulder, the gentle squeeze that I prayed reflected my apology. The way he shrugged it off meant I might have a bit of grovelling to do when I next saw him. It astounded me, the way in which he had this hold on me, like I was on a leash and he just kept pulling me in, closer and closer. I'd known this boy for less than a week and already he had forced me into wanting to leave my bereaved boyfriend and spend hours upon hours with him instead.

"What was all that about?" Harrison's voice was a hiss, a harsh whisper chopping through the air like a sword. Taken aback by the uncharacteristic tone, I looked up at him. His hand gripped mine tighter than before, clammy and disgusting. I tried to loosen my grasp but he didn't take the hint.

"What?" Feigning innocence always works; at least it does for me. He wasn't buying it. He glanced down at me, his eyes searching my face before he looked away again.

"You know what." His tone had progressed to a growl now. I took my eyes away from him as we veered right out of the library, up towards his common room. I said nothing. "Molly, why did you squeeze a stranger's shoulder?" Now that we were out of the dark library, he had calmed a little.

"It was just an apology, a thank you," I responded, dragging my feet a bit, "and he's not a stranger," I added without thinking it through. He certainly wasn't a friend yet, I knew nothing of him, but he wasn't a stranger either really. I wasn't looking at him, but I could almost feel Harrison's eyebrows rising in disbelief. I went on to explain before he could catch me out: the fact that I'd met him on the train and he was helping me with Transfiguration. As soon as the words slipped from my mouth, I knew I'd made a mistake.

"But…" the words stopped. I knew what he was going to say. His hand dropped from mine.

"Harrison don't," I pleaded, taking his wrist in my hand and pulling him to a stop, forcing the second-year behind me to almost go into the back of me. She sent me a scowl and stormed past. I glared after her then raised my eyes to meet his. "I bumped into Seb and he agreed to help me, that's all." I felt ridiculous, fighting my cause without having done anything wrong. "You weren't here. I didn't know when you'd be back." His nostrils flared and I looked away, dropping my grip on his wrist.

"Maybe if you'd replied to my letters you'd…" he trailed off again. I stared at the ground. If there was one thing he could do, it was make me feel exceptionally guilty. "Come on." It was his turn to take my wrist this time, and together we walked up to the Ravenclaw common room. Carefully, tactfully, I brought my wrist upwards, so his hand slipped back into mine. I gave it a reassuring squeeze and nestled closer to him. The smell of his aftershave wafted down under my nose and I smiled. I'd missed him, and given the choice, I'd choose reliable, trustworthy Harrison over anyone else any day.

--

Once upstairs in his dormitory, he turned to me, holding both of my hands in his. "You look amazing," he said, stroking my short fringe back behind my ear. He chuckled lightly as it fell back in front of my eyes. I'd forgotten that he hadn't laid eyes on me since I'd updated my look. "What-" he began, still laughing a little, "happened?" I faked offence, crossing my arms in a huff. He stroked my cheek softly, "That's not an insult, darling." The pet name sent a shiver down my spine. It felt like months since we'd last met in Diagon Alley, two days before my makeover. I smiled into his caress, kissing the palm of his hand as his hand traced the shape of my face.

"Victoire," I giggled, putting an arm around his waist and pulling him towards me a little. He rolled his eyes, completely understanding. His hands fell and imitated my action. "I just wanted a change, that's all," I replied, with a straighter face. "Do you approve?" I smiled up at him, feeling safe as my gaze met his. He dipped his head, giving a small moan of approval before his lips collided with mine. It was like fire meeting ice, I was melting at his touch. My mind flickered back to Seb, the way he made my body feel like it had been electrocuted from a tiny quirk of his lip and I pulled away, feeling adulterous already.

"What's up?" he asked, taking one of my hands and squeezing it reassuringly. I smiled, trying to hide my shame. "Hey," he tilted my chin up so he was staring at me.

"I'm fine," I assured him. "I should be worrying about you, not the other way around." He smiled a little, almost a grimace, as the thought of his grandmother's death suddenly hit him again.

"Why didn't you reply to the first letter? You didn't say," he asked, twirling a strand of my hair around his finger. I smiled.

"I didn't know how to tell you that I burnt it," I responded sheepishly. He raised his eyebrows and made a strange choked laugh sound. Before he could ask, I answered for him, "I got it after I did this," I gestured at my attire and hair. "I burnt all my old clothes and it fell in the bag. I didn't realise until afterwards and…I thought it would wait. I'm so sorry." I wasn't sure what I was apologising for: my accidental burning of the letter or the loss of his grandmother. Either way, he answered for the latter.

"It's fine. I should have popped around or something, to tell you." I felt so infuriated that he was still blaming himself for my mistake. I looked up at him fiercely.

"Don't you dare blame yourself," I told him, my eyes narrowing. He sighed, running a hand through his blond hair, surrendering I assumed, since he moved on to another topic.

"Who was he, then?" I think I preferred the topic of conversation before. I felt his hand burning mine. I yearned to release it; I felt like the shame of the identity of the 'mystery man' was being transferred into his body, so sure that he'd figure me out.

"His name is Seb Becker. He's a seventh year Slytherin. We met him on the train the other day," I tried to keep my voice calm. I didn't want to relay the fact that my heart was racing and my stomach turning at the mere memory of his steely glare and his raspy Scottish brogue. "I just bumped into him in the corridor and he was going to the library too. He offered to give me help. That was all." I grinned at him, hoping to disguise it as me teasing him rather than the reality: that it was the memory of Seb's caring tone as he patiently helped me with the basic work, which must have seemed so simple to him, that had put this smile on my face. "There's no need to be jealous." I stuck my tongue out and gave his shoulder a shove with my own. He laughed and reached out to tickle me. I squealed as he pinned me down onto the bed, his fingers lightly tracing over my upper body. We giggled together, before I grabbed his arms and pulled him down, our lips colliding softly. As his fingers got acquainted with the new length of my choppy hair, I smiled into his kiss, feeling almost content in our own little world.

We nearly missed our Charms lesson at midday. If it hadn't been for one of Harrison's roommates barging in, asking me if he'd be so kind as to let my boyfriend go to his lessons today, we'd have still been having an extremely good time on his bed until Merlin knows when. Sheepishly, Harrison climbed off me and I sat up, ruffling my hair so it looked a little less wayward. He grabbed my bag and slung his arm around me again. We'd missed lunch but surprisingly, I wasn't hungry. As we headed over to the Charms classroom, we were stopped twice by friends of Harrison, offering condolences or words of welcome. He smiled serenely at all of them, tightening his grip upon me. He peppered kisses on the top of my head, and in return I squeezed his waist.

The reaction that Elkins gave when we walked in to the classroom was ridiculous. He might as well have been on his knees in front of him, praying and worshipping Harrison as though he were a god. He forced him into a seat at the front of class and sent me back to sit with Cathy Shields and Anna, who cleared her stuff from the desk to let me sit down. I spent my whole lesson staring at the back of Harrison's head. My heart fluttered each time he turned in his chair to grin at me, the way the left side of his mouth went higher than the right made me smile every single time I saw him. I found myself gazing at the way his hair curled at the back of his head, and only the rapping of a ruler sharply on the desk in front of me brought me out of the daydream.

"Miss Weasley, if you'd care to do your daydreaming about Tierney in your own time I'd very much appreciate it," Elkins said, his grey eyebrows raised expectantly. I felt my cheeks heat up.

"Sorry, sir," I stuttered, feeling every eye in the room on me. His mouth turned up at one side. I awaited his call for me to join him for detention.

"Just focus in future, Miss Weasley," he said with a sigh, walking off. I held my breath, not quite sure why the usually strict Charms professor was being so lenient. Harrison turned in his chair and grinned. I checked to see that Elkins was stood with his back to me and stuck my tongue out at him. He smirked and turned back in his seat in perfect timing to coincide with the professor's return to the front of the room, and to answer his question about colour changing.

"You got off lightly, Miss Weasley," Harrison teased as we wandered back upstairs to his common room. I laughed and shrugged, just as confused as he was to hear of Elkins' decision to let me off the hook. He slung an arm around me, squeezing my shoulders. I was in heaven as he dipped his head to kiss me, right there in the corridor. I felt myself blushing as a few kids wolf-whistled around us. He drew back and winked at me, lightly running his thumb over my red cheeks.

I've never spent a more blissful afternoon. We lay on his bed until tea time, talking about everything and anything. We had tears as we discussed his grandmother, laughter about his brother's girlfriend, embraced together on his blue and bronze bedding, the hangings drawn around us, our own little annexe.

"We should go and eat," he whispered in my ear, his breath tickled me, making me come over all woozy for a moment. I nodded and made a satisfied moan as he kissed my neck before sitting upright. He held out his hand, ever the gentleman, helping me up and walking me downstairs. My stomach was screaming for food, its greedy groans only escalating as the smell of roast beef sneaked up the stair case, hiding behind corridors, teasing us terribly. Harrison pecked my cheek as we reached the Entrance Hall. He headed down to the Ravenclaw table, facing my Hufflepuff benches, whilst I mirrored him. My eyes inadvertently fell on the table behind him, where the stocky girl from the train was sat with a tall, shaven headed boy's arm draped around her, and I noticed what was missing from the scene.

To say that I hadn't thought about Seb all afternoon would be a lie. To pretend that every time Harrison pressed his lips to mine, I didn't wonder what it would be like to be in the arms of someone else. It made me feel quite ill, actually, to think that whilst I comforted my grieving boyfriend, I wondered whether or not the Slytherin boy would have the same reaction. His absence pained me. Not being able to catch his eye across the hall and smile a small apology at him made me feel a little empty.

I wasn't the only one who had noted his absence, as I caught the end of Anna and Max's conversation, "…imagined him. You never know. Or he could have just been some creepy paedophile who got on the train at…" Max trailed off as he noticed me sitting beside him. I raised my eyebrows at him and he blushed a wonderful crimson that any Weasley would have been proud of. "Sorry." I shook my head, eagerly spooning food onto my plate as though I hadn't eaten in weeks. To be honest, it felt like I hadn't eaten in weeks. We sat in silence for a few moments and I let innocent chatter from around the room fill my ears: talk about Quidditch, Professor Graves' hair, James Potter's latest detention.

"Molly?" Max's voice was soft, almost fearful of my response to his one word question. I looked at him expectantly. It was almost impossible to be angry at him for long. I nodded, popping my last potato in my mouth. "Do you think…" I didn't let him finish before I cut in with –

"I saw him today, Max, he's real. He's a real seventh year, not some pervert who managed to last the whole journey on the train talking to us," I said pointedly. He looked at me, his turn to raise his eyebrows this time and let the matter drop.

"Elkins was light on you today," Anna's voice was a welcome distraction. I laughed and agreed with a shrug. My gaze drifted over to where Harrison was sat, to find him staring at me. He smiled as I caught his eye and I tried to grin back, but I couldn't. Seeing him just gazing at me, whilst I sat oblivious, made me feel vulnerable, exposed to everyone. I'd never had that reaction before. My mind was spinning. I could almost feel myself changing. Harrison's penetrating gaze had never irked me before. It certainly had never unnerved me in the way it had at that moment. His softness, his willingness to agree with everything I said was a little annoying, I'd discovered, and whilst the caresses and hugs and kisses had been heaven that afternoon, I'd found myself employing them just to shut him up.

"Mol?" Max's voice snapped me out of my daydream and I looked across. "Tart?" he held out a jam tart in his pale hand. I smiled and took it from him, pulling the foil base off and picking the edges from it. I looked up under my eyes to see Harrison in deep conversation with Mia, and Seb's friends rising. I quickly ate the pastry and turned to my friends.

"I've just remembered that I've got some reading to do for tomorrow. I'll see you later," I was on my feet before the Slytherin girl had reached the doors. I tried not to hurry too much, I didn't want it to seem too obvious that I was in a rush. I half expected Harrison to rise with me, but he was far too involved in conversation to notice that I was halfway out of the room. My legs couldn't move fast enough, and as soon as I was out of the doors, I darted around the two Gryffindors I was following and shuffled quickly to the door to the dungeons, with a quick glance behind me to ensure that no-one was watching me. My pace quickened. The voices of the girl and her boyfriend echoed from somewhere ahead of me. I tried to think of her name, surely he mentioned it on the train, but my mind was blank. My trot turned to a jog. I could hear their voices even louder now. I rounded a corner and they came into sight. At the sound of my footsteps, the boy turned and elbowed his girlfriend, who followed his gaze to me. She seemed torn between a scowl and a smile, whether to walk away or talk. She opted for the latter as I gained on them, slowing down to a fast walk again.

"Yes, Weasley?" she asked, looking at me. I must have looked a mess. Exercising was at the bottom of my priority list. I brushed my hair out of my face.

"I want to see Seb," I stuttered, knowing that it sounded childish and almost stalker like. She looked me up and down, glanced across to her boyfriend who merely shrugged and beckoned me after them. When we reached a blank stretch of wall, she whispered the password so quietly that I was surprised it registered and we stepped into the Slytherin common room.

It was the only house room that I hadn't been in before and it didn't surprise me. Whilst the Ravenclaw one was filled with books and held an elegant aura, and the Gryffindors' meeting place was comfy and battle-worn, this room was dank and dark. It was long and narrow, and it felt damp, even though I was sure it wasn't. A few people turned to look at me, smirked and looked away.

"Come with me," the boy said, beckoning me towards a door set back from the wall. I tensed and followed him, not looking up from the bottom of his robes. I felt cold down there. There was no natural light and it made me feel depressed. The boy knocked on the dormitory marked '7th Year Boys' and after no noise from inside, he opened the door. "Go in, I'll keep the others away." I thanked him with a smile and shut the door after him.

The dorm was just as gloomy as the common room. I stepped towards the only bed with the hangings drawn. "Get lost." My footsteps obviously weren't as quiet as I'd hoped and I sighed.

"It's Molly." My voice was weak, my fear of rejection showing through under the confidence I was trying my utmost to attain. The bed groaned underneath him as he leant over and pulled apart his hangings. He sat up in the bed and swung his legs over the side.

"What?" he asked gruffly. I flinched, leaning against a post by the neighbouring bed. He groaned, rubbing his eyes with reddened hands. They fell onto his lap and he looked up at me expectantly.

"I…I," cursing myself, I stopped. I took a deep breath and continued, "I've come to apologise. For earlier." His face softened a little and he gestured for me to sit down on the neighbouring bed. I looked across at it but stayed still.

"It's only Adam's. He won't mind." I nodded, slightly afraid of not taking the seat and perched precariously on the edge of the bed. He expected me to go on. I stammered a little again.

"If the situation with Harrison had been different, I wouldn't have gone," I explained, my hands flying everywhere in my enthusiasm for him to believe me. "Honestly. I was enjoying it, but he needed me." I stopped. I could say no more. He nodded slowly, pulling his feet up to his chest and hugging his legs. He looked horribly vulnerable. I sighed, pushing my hair out of my face. "I can't say much else, Seb." I smoothed down my robes and stood up. If he didn't want to accept it, then he wasn't worth my attention.

"Okay. Thank you." He was looking straight at me; his eyes gave nothing away as he looked blankly into my own. I looked away first, my hair shielding my eyes from his penetrating gaze. I glanced back to him, hoping for some sign that he was about to blurt out an apology, but no luck. I pressed my lips tightly together, in a very good impression of Aunt Hermione, and left without another word.

I contained myself until I reached my common room, and thanked Merlin for the first time in a long time that I wasn't in Gryffindor. I ignored Max's shouts from the far side of the Common Room and walked straight down to my dormitory, cursing the winding passageways that led to them. I ignored Hayley and Alexa as they paused in their conversation, and drew the hangings round my bed without even changing out of my clothes. They'd been right, Nina, Anna and Max had been right all along, and I really wasn't in the mood for the inevitable 'I told you so's that awaited me when they discovered that Seb Becker was nothing more than a selfish, spoilt Slytherin slimeball.

A/N: I know no-one reads this BUT in case somebody does, Chapter 8 = absolute fave so hang around for that one, coming soon :D