It's four thirty. It's my birthday. I didn't need my alarm to go on as I was already awake. Since dad visit, I barely slept. During the day I barely lived. The hours are rolling wearily one after the other, one heavier than the one before. All insufferable, all confused.
Patrick and Francis are keeping nagging me to know what's going on but I'm barely talking to them. Albus is ignoring me, or better, all the time I pass by he gets an expression of sheer disgust. I'm ignoring him likewise. He beat me up in front of the whole school that's not something that can be forgiven so easily.
I kept my mouth shut about it, however. Longbottom asked explanation, I told him I punched myself. He knew of course what happened, but I stuck to my story. I won't sneak on my brother.
I threw up almost every single meal I tried to have since then. Therefore, I stopped eating. I stopped going to lessons too.
I decide to have my work out since I cannot sleep. It's a few days that I skipped that also. The castle is empty, quiet, only my steps can be heard in the corridors and on the stairs. The gate is open, outside is dark and quite cold despite spring is approaching. I run around the lake a couple of times listening to the sound of my breath. I get tired before usual though, the lack of food and sleep are starting to take their toll.
I sit on the edge of the lake, in a spot where trees hide me from the castle and I start my workout, there is tension in me, a thread that menace to snap. I find difficult to get my breath, air seems just too dense.
I stop working out and I stare at the lake. Black and velvety. The gold watch dad got me for my birthday is on my wrist. I was undecided if to wear it. In the end I did. It's nice. I don't know why I thought he was going to forget it, but he didn't. Thinking about it makes me physically unwell so I don't, but I'll keep it on my wrist anyway.
I wish sunrise would never come, I'd like to stay here in the dark, alone, forever. I'm tired to strive to live an insignificant life.
I'm so absorbed by my impenetrable gloom that I fail to notice somebody is approaching until it's just beside me.
'Hey'. A pretty Ophelia, clean face, wearing her uniform, sits beside me, hugging her knees and smiling sweetly, making my heart leaps.
'Hey' I manage to answer but I found myself incapable to say anything else rendered speechless by the sudden apparition.
The morning is starting to show up faintly, enveloping us in a grey light.
'How did you know I was here?' I ask when I feel more composed laying back on my elbows.
'I couldn't sleep, and I've seen you from the tower running around the lake' She says pointing to the tower where Ravenclaw common room is 'Do you come running every morning?'
'Pretty much'
'It sounds tough'
I shake my head 'It's not if you do it every day'
'You are the only one I know who does it'
I don't reply, I know, nobody is as crazy as me to wake up so early just to exercise.
'Why do you do it?'
'My dad taught me. He thinks is important to keep trained. You know being an Auror and everything. He'd like me to become one too'
'And would you like it?' she asks interested.
I used to want it very much when I was younger, it was my strongest ambition. I wanted to be like him, I wanted an adventurous job, I wanted to be a hero, save people, chucking bad guys in prison. But lately I'm not sure I want it anymore. I'd only be a pallid imitation of him.
In a fit of perverseness, not long ago, I sneaked some books from the forbidden section about dark magic. If I'm doomed never to shine in the same field as him, I'd shine in the opposite. But then I couldn't even get through the introduction. It was too gruesome. I found myself thinking about Sunrise whispering in my ear in her gibberish language that I was the best brother in the world, and I couldn't go on. It's no good, I ain't got the guts for dark magic.
I decide not to answer to this question either, I only give a shrug without commitment.
'Which kind of person is your dad?'
I look at her enquiringly, I get plenty of questions on my dad but not this kind. Everybody thinks to know perfectly well which kind of person he is: a perfect, all shining fucking God.
Seeing my expression, she adds hurriedly 'Like for real I mean. You know I'm a muggle born' she said somehow sheepishly 'I didn't know anything about him before coming to Hogwarts'
That explains much. That's why she hasn't been victim of the Potter mania. I ponder on my answer 'He is normal. Nothing special really.'
She pauses waiting for something more, but I don't want to add anything else not sure of what will come out from my mouth.
'Do you get along?'
This question creates me some problems too. Sometimes I think we do but when I'm back to Hogwarts I always realise that it wasn't so really. Therefore, undecided on the answer to give, I adopt the same uncommitting shrugging.
She remains silent for some moments and then she asks me in a faltering tone 'Am I bothering you? Do you want me to go away?'
I look at her surprised 'Not at all. Why?'
'I don't know' she says tilting her head on one side 'You don't seem very communicative'
I give a small laugh 'I'm sorry. It's just…'
It's just that sometimes, answering questions is difficult. She cannot know, she may think I love to talk about my dad but it's difficult really, especially now.
And then I'm reminded that Mohini told me the same. And then, that my dad never answers questions either. Suddenly I find I can understand a bit better his struggle. Not always answering is easy. It makes you confront to what you don't want to think about. Maybe we are more similar than what I always thought.
'I'm sorry.' I repeat with a smile 'You are not bothering me. I'm glad to have some company' I am glad to have her company.
She relaxes and smile back. She is indeed pretty. Even prettier, in the morning, without make up, her skin is so fair and smooth, she must be so soft to caress.
We stay there only watching the lake in an endearing silence. It's not awkward as usually silence is, it's as easy as when talking.
'You know' she said after a while, getting pensive 'It isn't something I reveal easily but I too have lost a parent. That's why I reproached myself so bitterly for having accused you of unfeelingness'
I look at her struck by this revelation and she look me back with an unreadable expression. I should probably say that I'm sorry, or something of that kind, but I don't. I know how it feels to hear it and I want to spare her the distress in having to answer to such a banal affirmation. I let my expression convey my sympathy and I guess it worked because she smiles sadly and continue 'I was eleven just before to come to Hogwarts. When the letter arrived, I was over the moon of course but I was about to refuse nevertheless not to leave my mum alone'
She turns back to look at the lake 'It has been a tough time. And there was no violence involved. No tortures, no murders. For you it must have been one hundred times worst'
I tilt my head on one side considering her words. Her expression while confiding me this brings me to disagree.
'A loss is always a loss.' I say in the end 'I don't think one is worse than another. They are all different but in essential, they are all the same. Don't they?'
She gets pensive at my words and doesn't answer straight away. 'Perhaps you are right' she says at the end 'But I've been unsensitive and I wanted to apologise'
I would forgive her this and worse.
'It's all right. You don't need to'
We plunge back in our silence that now harbours something more than easiness. There is sharedness, a cosiness an intimacy that induce me to avow, before I'm aware, what has been tormenting me.
'My dad was here' I tell her sitting up and rubbing my hands moist by the dew on my trousers.
She gets a look of surprise by this abrupt avowal 'I didn't know'
'Nobody knew. Nobody has to know' I reply looking at her meaningfully at which she nods serious.
'I haven't been nice in his regards and Albus was pretty pissed off for it'
'What did you do?'
I draw a big breath. Where to start?
'I refused point blank to be approached by him, and I shook him off when he tried to touch me'
'Well' she says frowning 'It doesn't seem to me a good enough reason…'
'I told him that this summer I'll go to his place only for my sister and not for him' I interject.
She freezes in her speech and then she emits an 'Ah.'
'And I hinted that my sister should be taken away from him because she'll only end up killed like… well… She'll end up killed'
She stares at me wide eyes and in the end, she emits an 'Oh'
'And when he was about to go, I turned my heels on him and didn't say goodbye'
She stares at me blankly and when she is about to speak, I add:
'Albus said goodbye, and he gave him this for me' I show the watch to her 'It's my birthday today'
I see her mouth forming an 'o' but before she can feel forced to make me a good wish in a moment when I'm not sure to deserve it, I add 'There was a note inside'
I get back an enquiring gaze, so I take a big breath fighting the umpteen fit of sickness, despite my stomach has been empty for hours, to reveal the content 'It said "I'm sorry"'
She stares at me for some seconds, immobile, then she arches an eyebrow 'I see…' she only says moving his gaze on the lake 'A bit harsh on the whole'
I half smile sourly 'Pretty harsh, yeah… Albus thought I deserved a socking or two for it… But I had my reasons' I say gathering a round, flat pebble and throwing into the lake to make it bounce on the water. The giant squid doesn't appreciate it though and throw it back at me with a tentacle. It almost hit me the bloody invertebrate!
'What reasons?' she says starting to pull the petals from a daisy she picked up.
This is another uncomfortable question, so I reflect a moment before to answer.
'Because…' I start cautiously not very sure how to proceed 'It's his fault.' I gush in the end.
'His fault of what?'
'My mum… and everything else' I avow darkly.
I'm not looking at her, but I see her moving her gaze from the flower to me, enquiringly 'Why?' she asks softly.
'None of us will ever have a chance of a normal life because of what he has done. His person overshadows everything, overshadows me! People don't even know my name, I'm only Harry Potter's son. Only that! It's like being a nobody! Can you imagine how is it? I'm looked for and liked for only because I'm his son, nobody bloody care which kind of person I am really' I blort out getting warm 'And on the top of all, now I've learned that we are a target for any nutter who want to become somebody.'
She leans her head on her knees deep in thought 'It is nasty' she murmurs 'But he cannot really do anything about it, can he? It is how it is'
'He didn't protect my mum' I blort out ignoring her remark 'He left her alone. She is dead because he hasn't been able to protect her'
'I read about the accident on the newspaper.'
This sentence stops my soaring spleen 'What did you read?' I ask suddenly curious. I have no idea what has been published. I avoided to read them; it could only upset me more.
'That they found them crouched together.' She says hesitantly her eyes flickering in my direction 'Apparently he was shielding her with his body. He got quite a lot of Cruciatus apparently, they couldn't discern how many exactly but many… He was a kind of mess…' she continues almost in a whisper 'Maybe they were lying but there was a picture of the room and…' she shots me another glance and perhaps understanding from my expression that is wiser not to continue, she tails off hugging her knees more tightly.
'They weren't lying, it's the truth.' That much I know. Grandma explained to me what happened in an attempt to pacify me against him. But it didn't work. Uncle Ron is right. It's his fault. Uncle is the only one who tells the truth for how it is. The only one who always did. He never hides anything. Not like dad who hides everything,
'So then, why….?'
'She is dead, isn't she?' I snap angrily 'He left her alone. He should have gone to her straight away. He hasn't been able to protect her. He managed to kill You-know-who and didn't protect my mother from a petty dark wizard! She is dead only because she married him'
I hear Ophelia taking a big breath. The sky is getting lighter, and few touches of pink are making their way in the grey of the morning.
'I see what you mean… It must be horrible for him too'
'What do you mean?' I ask my brows knitting together.
'Well… Everybody here consider him like a kind of almighty god but he is only human after all. She was your mum, but she was also his wife. He must feel dreadful about not having managed to save her. Very guilty in knowing that that man killed her to get to him'
I grunt in disapproval.
'Do you mean to say he doesn't?' she asks surprised by my reaction.
'He pretends alright but I bet is all a fake.'
'Why?'
'Have you ever seen him?' I ask darkly.
'I've spotted him a couple of times on the platform, but he is not engaging much with magical people. Doesn't it?'
'No, he doesn't but when he does, he is always surrounded by women. There are plenty of stupid girls following him around everywhere. Drooling after him. He can have them just like that' I say snapping my fingers.
'And does he? I've seen on magazines that he cheated on your mum quite often but I'm not sure whether to believe it. They write whatever just to sell copies.'
This is exactly what mum used to say.
'Come on!' I say contemptuously, 'All those hot babes and he just sticking for my mum? He is a man anyway! I cannot believe that he never cheated on her. I'm sure he didn't give a damn about her'
'Just because there are such girls doesn't necessarily mean he cheated on her' she continues faltering, brushing her palm on the grass and throwing me a flickering glance. Her hand rests on the ground and it's so close to mine that I have to fight the urge to take it. I don't want her to go away because of a rush act.
'I mean…' she adds even more faltering with a lower tone 'It's the same for you, innit?'
I wake from my reverie on taking her hand to fall straight in another one looking at her hazel eyes that with the first light of the day take a warmth that menace to pierce my self-control. Therefore, I'm not very focused.
'What do you mean?'
'You have plenty of girls around you as well' she says moving her hair on one shoulder and watching the lake that is slowly getting the same pinkish tint of the clouds 'What if you would find one you like so much to engage with her. There are still gonna be stunning girls, so much better looking than her, tempting you. Would you cheat on her?'
And I finally get her meaning. Yes, I realise now I'm indeed in the same situation of my dad. Then I look at her long fingers interlinked on her knees, her lips slightly parted, so pink and delicate, and surely as sweet as peaches, I look at her eyes almost yellow now, brightened by the sun that is starting to rise, and I see admiration in them for the show that nature is putting up for us. She appreciates it as I do, she can see the beauty in it as none of my other girls, stunning as they are, sexy as they are, ever could, all taken by their vanity and petty trivialities.
And I know that if she would accept to be mine I would never and ever cheat on her. She would be the only one for me. She wouldn't believe it but so it is.
And a consideration appears in the back of my mind. If my dad, when he looked at my mum, did indeed feel even only a tenth of what I'm feeling right now looking at Ophelia, perhaps, he has never done it either.
I'm staring intensely at her hoping she will get what I'm totally unable to express in words, but she looks purposely away which make my heart sink in desperation, she'll never accept not even to try.
I see her shivering, so instead of my declaration that surely would be rejected, I ask, 'Are you cold?'
'A bit' she says smiling faintly 'I didn't think to grab a cloak'
'I would give you my hoodie, but I'm afraid it's not that fresh' I say frowning thinking at the state of my garments after work out, not very adapted to cover something as fresh and clean as her.
'Don't even think about it! You are going to catch cold if you take it off now!' she reply steady, but I see another shiver, therefore I suggest what I think she won't accept but I hope very much she will. I part my legs to make space for her 'Come on here' I gesture her to sit in the middle of them so I can warm her up with my body.
She looks suspicious, not very convinced. I laugh 'Come on! I won't eat you! And I promise I won't try to endanger in any way your precious relationship with that dork of Davis'
I see her still undecided, so I reach out for her, and she allows herself being drawn in my arms.
This is indeed one of the loveliest sensations ever felt while at Hogwarts. Having her so close to me, encircling her with my body.
We stay there watching the sunrise in silence and I'm not really sure if it's me who is warming her up or the other way round because, slowly, I'm feeling the knot in my stomach loosening up and my muscles doing likewise.
I can see the slope of her neck half hidden by her dark hair so temptingly asking me to be noticed, and I stroke gently those hair away to be able to follow that curve with my eyes, her head tilt slightly toward me while I'm at it, but then her gaze rests again on the sun and I find myself wanting to smell that skin, I want to know the scent of her. I know I shouldn't, I ran the risk to make her go away with my recklessness, but the longing is irresistible. So, I lean my face over her neck, and I take a whiff out of her, her skin so close I can feel the warmth, so close, my lips slightly brush it, waking my body with sheer desire for her.
'James… What are you doing?' she asks uneasy.
I do so totally love when she calls me by my name.
I chuckle 'I'm not doing anything. I only want to know what you smell like'
She doesn't answer immediately but she doesn't even push me away which I take it as a good sign.
'And what do I smell like?'
Emboldened by this question, moving her hair gently on the other shoulder, I take a god sniff at her pale skin going up to her neck and up behind her ear, allowing my lips, though only barely, to feel the softness of her, and I perceive a slight shivering, surely not because of the chill this time, that turns on all my senses in a powerful way.
Ok, calm… Calm… Let's relax and focus on the task ahead.
What does she smell like? Something fresh, clean, but at the same time exciting and adrenaline. It reminds me summer holidays when going running with my dad. The freshness of the morning, the cleanliness of the dew, the quietness of the wood where only our breathing could be heard, the energy gathering up in my body, the enthusiasm but at the same time the serenity, the sun rising and the silent admiration of it, the companionship, the sharing.
'You smell like a summer morning' I say in the end, and I finally let my lips touch her skin, I rub them on it, following that lovely curve, sucking it slightly, to savour it in all its sweetness.
'James, you promised…' she murmurs faltering, but I can sense the awakening of her body under my tongue and the little conviction she puts in that sentence.
'What did I promise?' I mutter not moving away my lips, loosening her tie, the collar of her shirt to try to reach her shoulder.
'You promised not to do anything' she says with a voice so low is barely audible.
'Nope… I promised not to endanger your relationship with the geek. And I'm not doing it' I say, letting my hand rise from her calf slowly to her thigh.
'Is it not what you are doing?!' she says trying with not much spirit to stop my hand that therefore continue slowly its voyage accompanied by her own rested on mine.
'Nah and do you want to know why?' I whisper in her ear.
She nods imperceptibly and I can see her blush, so I pull gently her face toward mine to be able to look in her eyes.
'Because you are over with Davis in this exact moment'
And I kissed her.
Yes, that's right. I kissed her. I kissed Ophelia. I kissed her! After three long years imagining this moment, I'm finally living it!
And it's just… wow… Mind-blowing. This is my first kiss, my first real kiss. And it's so different from all the other snogging I've ever had.
It tastes, sweet and delicate, it reminds me the fruits my mum would put on the blankets during picnics in summer and us eating it looking at the sky, Lily thrilling excited at every strange cloud that would pass over our head, Albus exclaiming what it looked like, Lily saying something ridiculous that would make me laugh and mum and dad kissing each other.
It tastes like happiness and that happiness produce something at the pit of my stomach that soar in me transforming in a laugh as soon as ours lips part.
I don't remember feeling like this for a long time.
She laughs too and turns in my embrace to face me, and we kiss again, and I cannot believe this is happening for real.
And this kiss it gets dense on my part because had waited for so long and I'm crazy for her, everything of her makes me crazy, I'm losing my head completely, inebriated by her. My hands almost trembling by the excitement and the longing, undo her tie, undo her shirt and I have to control myself not to tear off everything, they are slipping around her waist, and finally one makes its way under her bra on her breast, so small and turgid, rests perfectly in my hand. It seems almost as though my hand has been created with this only purpose.
This touch makes my blood run so fast I don't understand anything anymore, I part my lips from her own only to make her rise enough to remove her stockings and make her sit on my lap, her legs crossing behind my back. My hands are on her thighs, on her bottom, everywhere. Her arms are around my neck, her mouth open, slightly panting, wet, inviting, and she is looking at me with that desire I always dreamt to see on her face, and I thought I never would. And with this feeling swelling I finally find the courage to utter what I always wanted to tell her, what I know I always felt for her 'Ophelia…' I say staring those dazzling hazel eyes, that arousing red mouth 'Ophelia, I think I love you' I gush. I press my lips on her own straight after that though because I don't care to hear it back, I don't want her to say it. I want to conquer that love, day after day, showing her I'm worth of it. I don't mind my being a one-way love at first.
I move slightly her knickers with my fingers, and she is just ready for me, extremely wet and so deliciously tight and I know that I would just need to lower my trousers a little bit to make it happen but I'm also aware that this, after so much sex, is going to be anyway like the first and with none other than Ophelia. I want it to be perfect.
I want nakedness, I want to see her body, I want to taste it all, I want her to cum at least twice, but I'm sure I can manage more. I want to make her burst with pleasure. I would like a bed too but in this bloody place it seems impossible. Well, we will make grass work.
So, I take out my hoodie and my t-shirt spreading them on the ground, and I make her lay down on it. I busy myself in removing what clothes are still tenaciously on her body while devouring all the skin is revealed to me, my mind already savouring everything, totally regardless of the sub-zero English morning, my sweatpants too are no more to be seen and I'm just getting down on her slowly, following that delicious line that starts from the base of her neck, between her breasts, down on her flat tummy, when she murmurs urgently in between moans 'James, stop' and I want to cry.
Oh my god, please no! Not now! I cannot stop now.
'Why?' I ask all taken by my descent, obviously not stopping it 'You won't get preggers. I'm a pro in this kind of spells' I mutter.
'No, it's not that. I've never done this'
'What?' I say confused having finally reached her belly button 'Nobody ever went down on you?! The geek is more of a moron than I thought. Don't worry, you'll love it and what comes next, it'll be even better'
'No, I didn't mean that either' she says trying to stop my fingers that are already where I want my mouth to be, and getting all rigid, trying to sit down 'I meant… what next'
I halt immediately as a sudden strange and unbelievable doubt, supported by what my fingers were discovering, cross my head killing my verve in an instant. I look at her flushed face 'What do you mean by "what next"?' knowing already the answer '…You never had sex before, do you?'
She looks away coyly and I'm flabbergasted.
Blimey. What did she do with Davis?! Played Gobstones?!
'But…' I stammer stupidly 'But… You have a boyfriend... Did you never…?' She is already slipping from under a very bewildered me, wearing her knickers back on.
'But Davis…' I gabble again. I just cannot believe this. She is basically seventeen. Most of the girls I had at seventeen have already quite a lot of experience in the field.
She shrugs retrieving her shirt lay abandoned on the grass, covering in two simple gestures all what I toiled so hard these three years to have the privilege to uncover. I was so close my eyes are almost tearing up.
'He was even too up for it of course, but I didn't want to'
The tearing up is swept immediately away replaced by a vicious joy at the thought that Davis tried and didn't manage to score. Filthy liar.
'Why?' I ask curious.
She busies herself with her shirt still quite flustered 'You know… The first time is important. I want to do it with somebody special'
I feel, all of sudden, a sinking sensation in my guts and my hopes get back again under my shoes where I should have learned to keep them by now but apparently, I still don't.
'I see…' I say disconsolate retrieving my sweatpants from some bushes, wearing them on and sitting beside her with a reassuring arm around her shoulders, I even manage a smile 'Don't worry, I understand. You are right, it should be with somebody special. I'm sorry. I behaved like a jerk. I spent the last three years wishing to be able to show you that I'm not a horny, sex addicted, arrogant arse and at the first chance I got I've done nothing but to confirm your idea of me. You definitely deserve somebody special'
It's good to know that when I get one chance to prove myself, I can burn it as fast as the speed of light. She is so right. I am an overbearing moron full of myself after all. I suddenly feel the biggest git in having declared myself. I should have kept my mouth shut. And I remember my first time with that bitch of Bianca as well, who treated me like shit for months before I realised that she was only using me. I was really convinced she was in love with me, I think I was in love with her. I was still sentimental at that time and overall naive. But she has never been. And when, the day she invited me to her place, I finally opened my eyes on the truth, I simply shagged her out of spite in the shed beside the swimming pool and then I dumped her just after I cum when I was wiping myself clean from all that blood. She wept. A nice first time, innit? Unfortunately, I already gave her our address by then. I guess she printed out leaflets after that. The funny thing is that now she is actually in love with me. I see it in her eyes when she corners me out of lesson and literally begs me to fuck her which is not seldom. I swear, I'll never understand girls. For months I did all she asked me to, I was nice and sweet to her and she only treated me like a dog and now that every time we have sex, I make sure to humiliate her, treat her like an object and I always conclude the whole thing saying quite clearly what I think of her (and it's never anything flattering) she is in love and always crawls back for more. Unexplainable. Although, despite my bitterness increases after every encounter of that kind, I'm glad of it. Now it's me using her, so she can taste what it feels like.
Anyway, getting back to us, because of all of it, I can sympathise with Ophelia, I want her to have a nice experience out of it. I'm just sorry it won't be with me.
She is silent for a moment watching me. Then she snuggles up on my side.
'You are the somebody special'
My heart lurch and my hopes soar again until I remember who I'm son of. This is not the first time that happens. I had girls that wanted to be broken in by me. They think is cool to lose their virginity by Harry Potter's son. It happened a couple of times, but I discovered pretty fast it's not worth. First of all, you can't just use a broom cupboard, or against a tree or in a disused classroom, as I usually do, if it's their first time. It doesn't seem right so I always need to arrange to have the room for myself since we cannot use theirs and it's a bit of a hassle every time. And then it seems that more precautions you take to make it nice and more their expectations raise unreasonably. To cut it short, it wasn't worth the trouble therefore, when the intention is made clear, I always refuse.
I really want Ophelia though and if she wants me to do it, I'll do it. At least I'm sure she'll get a nice one, but it puts me off in a hateful way. It reverts immediately to sex when I wished so much to be something different with her.
I smile bitterly and arch my eyebrows 'Harry Potter's son, hey? Quite a prize.'
She searches for my gaze and when she locks it, she softly kisses my lips 'Not quite Harry Potter's son.' She says smiling 'I was thinking more about James'.
I have only time to regain my breath, that has been blunted by her sentence, when we both hear some noises amid the bushes behind us that make us jerk. Ophelia launches herself on her skirt and stockings and as fast as the speed of light start to put them on trying at the same time to gather other pieces of uniform scattered around.
Then a head pops between two bushes, Patrick. Who as soon as he sees me bellows behind his shoulders 'Francis, I found him! The prat is here!' Then spotting Ophelia who is still quite busy in making herself presentable, smiles and add 'In sweet company' making her become the same colour as a cherry.
Her tie is still laying on the ground close to my t-shirt.
I take both and wearing back my t-shirt, I reach for Ophelia who is all flustered. I try to calm down her flush smoothening her hair back in order, combing them with my fingers and, smiling, I whisper to her ear some reassuring words. Patrick in the meanwhile has extricated himself from the branches and I hear Francis' voice coming from somewhere a few feet away 'The git! Give him a good kick from me!'
Patrick sits himself beside Ophelia with an idiotic smile observing her flush and dishevelled state.
'What are you doing here, guys? Is it not a bit too early for you two?' I ask busy in knotting Ophelia's tie around her beautiful long neck.
'You know after your kind of deranged behaviour of the last few days we were getting a bit alarmed' he says trying to catch Ophelia's gaze who studiously stare the ground while I'm busy over her 'and not seeing you in bed we had a kind of spooky suspicion that we may find you hanging from a tree or something.'
I roll my eyes 'I was just doing my workout like every day'
'Yeah, right…' he says picking Ophelia's bra that in the heat of the moment is finished on a nearby bush 'I see… Is it every day so exciting? I'm kind of regretting to have scorned your invitation to join for so long'
I snatch it from his hand enraged. At that point Francis make his appearance, shacking off leaves from his uniform. Spotting Ophelia he stops a moment and then a huge beam appears on his face.
'Hello, hello!' he says ambling over us and, sloping down beside Patrick, joins him in the Ophelia-staring/grinning.
'Would you stop staring at her?' I snap irritated taking her protectively under my arm.
'We just wanted to thank her' Patrick says in a mock offence.
'Exactly' Francis adds.
'What for?' Ophelia asks defensively.
'What for? For saving his bloody life! Still a few days and we would have found his body floating in the lake if it weren't for you.'
I see her repressing a smile while I scowl 'I was fine'
'Sure! When is the last time that you ate something without puking it?'
'How do you bloody know?' I ask aghast.
'The bathroom is not soundproof' he answers with sufficiency 'You were wasting away. We are not stupid you know. You were not sleeping, not eating, getting out of bed only to hide from McGonagall. We nagged Albus until he spilled the beans about your dad.'
Francis follows up annoyed 'Don't you think is about time to bend a bit your not-talking-rule?! It's not nice to know that you prefer to leave yourself die of starvation instead of talking it over with us like rational people'
I don't know what to answer because they are right but also because their preoccupation gets to me. They do give a damn after all.
Ophelia, hearing of my erratic behaviour, glances at me concerned.
Francis, seeing it, manages a smile that goes all around his head twice and addressing her 'Don't worry. Something tells me that now he is going to eat alright and, if you'll allow him, he'll sleep too' picking up my hoodie from the ground and giving it to me with glee making Ophelia glowing like a lantern.
I grasp it scowling worse than ever. The sun is quite up now, and the rays are warming my skin nicely, but she looks so fragile I don't want her to catch cold, so I help her wearing it, I know now she won't mind having my smell on her, as I know, for some reason, that I won't feel cold without it. Actually, I have got this odd hunch as though I won't feel cold ever again.