A/N: Aubade (noun): Origin: French. – A poem about lovers separating at dawn.
Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

CHAPTER SEVEN
AUBADE

Present all your pretty feelings
May they comfort you tonight
And I'm climbing over something
And I'm running through these walls
- Mumford & Sons, Believe

I wake up to the low buzzing of my cell phone. It's located somewhere across my left buttock as it vibrates in a whirring pattern, before picking up again. Stirring, I find a huge wet patch the size of England stretched across my midriff. I look up to find Ted's face inches from mine, and the mystery patch is explained. He's drooling, his face peaceful for once. Young.

For a long time, I stare at him. All the while my buttock vibrates slowly to the break of dawn. Then I slowly sit up, disentangling myself from his arms. Murmuring, he turns over and continues sleeping.

I look around us. It's pitch-black, except for the moon shining brightly above us. At the edge of the forest, I can see the rosy reds of dawn slowly creeping in on the lands.

We fell asleep.

I eye Ted's hand, which is still resting on my thigh. I don't think he knows that it's there. I can feel the tingling sensation all across my legs, my flesh prickling into Goosebumps. This is bad, bad.

I pick his hand up slowly and place it back on the ground, grabbing my coat as I rise. I can't help but sneak one last glance at his vacant face before I slip across the fields.

His face reminds me of a thousand other nights, spent together underneath the stars. His soft, regular breathing and shifts are like my own memory, as familiar as the pattern of my own sleep. Like you almost don't notice the turns and breaths, because they've been with you forever, but when you do notice those shifts and turns, all it does is to bring you comfort.

The sunflowers part slowly as I press into the fields, redialling Miranda after five missed calls. Behind me, the old oak tree shelters Ted's form completely from view. It's out of sight, much like the past five years, but not far from my mind.

I slide off my coat as I enter the bedroom and switch on the light. The house is silent, like an old friend welcoming me home without words.

I stop abruptly when I turn to my bed. On it lays Scorpius, still in his clothes. He looks shrewdly at me. "Where have you been, missy?"

I halt in my steps. "Out. I mean, well… we fell asleep – I – Miranda called?"

He lifts his head, "Yeah?"

I nod. "She wanted to hear how it was going. The first article was well received, but she wants more juice. I'm thinking I'll grab a few photos off the beauty-shop tomorrow? Then we can splash on where the bride gets ready for her day."

"That sounds great." Scorpius smiles. "I've been working on a few portraits as well that we might be able to use."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "I've noticed."

I climb into the bed and snuggle against his chest. Sighing he draws me closer.

"Lucy…"

I'm between his legs, resting on his stomach. I feel his breath and maybe it's time, maybe it's time for some kind of declaration. I've thought about it God knows how many times, but always backtrack. And now it's not in me. Not anymore.

"I know, Scorp. Shit, I know." This is getting way out of hand.

Scorpius doesn't say anything else, but kisses the top of my head instead, squeezing my shoulders.

"He asked me to be his best man." I don't look up, but close my eyes instead, listening to the slow drum of his heart.

Scorpius sighs. "Well, that's it, isn't it? You'll have to decide."

"Decide on what."

"Whether you're stopping this wedding, or you're supporting him."

Right.

Ted 22, Lucy 19

"You know, this would get done a lot faster if you'd help me."

I yell it loudly over the radio, as I dip the paint-roller in paint. It rolls lightly across the wall as I spread the paint evenly, the wall gaining colour slowly.

"It would get even faster if you'd let me do it by magic," comes his answering yell from the next room.

I roll my eyes. "I want to do this by hand. It's our first house, hand-painted by us. It's cute and homey."

"It's a damn nuisance and a waste of time."

"Seriously. Stop with the whole "time wasted". I want to do this, Ted. I – wait, are you naked?"

"I sure am." Ted prances into the room, wearing nothing but a spot of sunshine, his eyes bright.

I laugh. "Why are you naked? You're supposed to help me."

"I could still help you?"

"Um, no, you can't – you've got all your… jingles wiggling about…"

"Prude." Ted sniffs.

"Exhibitionist." I shoot back.

"I could be one of your naked models," he smirks, striking a ridiculous pose. "Then I'd be the only man you'd ever see naked."

Giggling, I walk over and embrace him. "You're the only one I ever want to see naked," I murmur against the back of his neck.

I feel his smile break against my shoulder as he nuzzles closer.

"I think one of us has too many clothes on…"

We don't have a lot of money, and the apartment is horrible. But it doesn't matter, I muse as Ted peels off my clothes, pulling me down on the floor. Nothing matters. Our love is great enough to eat.

The next morning, Scorpius cheerily greets me from the dining-room table as I descend the stairs.

I stop in my tracks. "What are you wearing?"

"Oh this old thing? It's nothing, found it in the cupboard."

The garment in question is a pair of large mint-green overalls. Along with the overalls, Scorpius is wearing a large Icelandic sweater and a large hat that barely covers his ponytail. I eye him warily.

"You look ridiculous."

"Ridiculously handsome, you mean."

I take a seat at the table, grabbing a muffin. "Nah, just ridiculous. Where are you headed?"

"Fishing. With James and his dad." Scorpius wiggles his brows at me.

Ice fills my stomach. I clear my throat, pushing aside the unease. "Out for gossip with Ted's godfather, then?"

He taps two fingers against his head in acknowledgement. "You read my mind, love."

"Have fun." The words taste funny in my mouth as I head out the door, heading towards Lily's. Behind me, Scorpius waves. "You too, honey."

I wish it were easier. I wish I didn't feel like I do. As if my two worlds have merged, and all it does, is to tear my guts out.

Lily is huge. Ginormous. The sheer size of her keeps on taking me by surprise. Whenever I see her, it's like getting the news sprung on you once again. Like, I've forgotten it the moment I look away. Forgotten that all these years have passed and that she grew up. That we all grew up.

She pulls me in close when she opens the front door.

"So good you had time before the beauty-salon. I feel like we didn't get a chance to talk last time." Lily attempts to hug me despite the obvious obstacle between us, as her huge belly makes it a half-attempt at best.

The house is huge, with wide hallways and pretty paintings on the walls. I press a hand gently against the sharp curve of her, smiling despite myself. "How did all of this happen?"

She pauses, her smile big. "It was just one of those things. It felt right, you know? And now I'm the size of this house!"

Lily laughs but I don't.

"Come on in," she waves me inside, and I squeeze past her into the entrance.

"Dom's just arrived."

There's a huge teapot between us, its flowery shape seething steam into the silent room.

Lily's in the kitchen, stirring something together. We've finished shuffling an obscene amount of furniture around the halls of this house in absolute silence. And now it's time for tea and biscuits.

I'm finding it hard to look at her. And I don't know what to do to change the sticky atmosphere. The room just grows more and more silent with the ticking of the clock.

"How are you, Luce?" She's trying, she is. I stare at her, unable to form words, unable string together a sentence that describes adequately the series of emotions I battle.

"That's such a bullshit question to ask, Dom."

Dom's eyes snap up to meet mine, blue and wide. She laughs then, tucking her hand under her chin. "Merlin, I know. That was a… ah, shitty question to a shitty friend."

And it's one of those moments when her face looks so much like her usual old expressions that it's comforting. And frightening.

I pull back. "Can we… Can we just skip this part, and go back to being us again?"

Dom looks at me. "It's not that easy."

My mouth wrinkles, my hand hovers over the air between us, contemplating reaching for her, but thinking better of it.

Dom raises her teacup in an armed defence, the porcelain clattering against the saucer as if the sound could drive away the years.

"I was… hurt, Lucy," she says then. "You just upped and left and never contacted me again. I thought we were better friends than that. I thought we owed each other more than that."

"We were." I turn to her, my eyes watery, my chest heaves. "It wasn't… It wasn't about you or anything like that… I was just – "

"That night in the cottage, though. Something was wrong, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"I wish you would have told me. Confided in me. Trusted me."

I bring the cup to my mouth. My lips press into the rim and I force myself to swallow. I cough. "It was very complicated… I'm not even sure I knew how to talk about it. I was just really hurt."

"I know. They… told me. But running has never resolved anything."

"I know." I sink.

"And Ted…"

"How… how bad was it? No one will tell me the truth, they only hint at it. Tell me, please." I ask, half-hoping she won't answer, half-hoping that she will.

Dom looks at me sideways. "It was… bad. Real bad. I'm not sure… I'm not sure he'll ever be quite alright."

"I'm not sure that I'll ever be alright."

"He… He got kinda… wild… after you left. Slept around a bit. Dropped out of the Auror-academy and came here… got the job as a blacksmith, working with Darren. They… They both came back to Grimsby to work together. I don't know. They… found peace here."

There's a pregnant pause in which I sense there's more to this story. And in a way, we've both been left behind. Darren from Dom and Ted from me. I grab her hand, instinctively.

"I think I've made more harm than good, Dom. I… I think I might have caused too much damaged for it to ever be alright again." The confession pours out of me, and I am somehow unable to contain myself any longer and all my insecurities come, bursting out of me.

There's a hesitation and then she leans forward, her eyes warm. She brings me into her arms, reaching around me, attempting to hold me together. I blink into her shoulder, feeling her exhale.

"It'll get easier, I promise." Her promise breathes gently.

"It needs to. It needs to get easier."

We sit there for a long while, holding each other. She pulls back again and I wipe my eyes, smiling. We sit cross-legged on the couch, facing each other. She asks questions and I shoot questions back.

France. Ted. Scorpius. My job. India. There are so many things we have left behind that need retelling. So many heartaches and pains. Troubles and storms.

And here, inside Lily's living room, with our legs touching, it feels like I've come home, finally.

Ted 22, Lucy 19

"How's the painting coming along?" Dom says it like it's something else she's asking about in that voice that makes it clear it's not even a question. But I won't bite.

I look up from the array of colours, to gaze at her. "It's going well," I answer carefully. I continue looking at the paint-supplies, picking out a few new brushes. "I've finished a few, begun on a couple of others. It's going well."

I like how ascertain I feel when I say this. It feels sturdy. Like the tube of red paint in my hand, I can feel the purpose lying in my right hand.

Dom nods slowly, picking up another tube of paint. She studies it with such vigour uncommon for her, and I wait, with bated breath for the assault. And sure enough, it comes,

"Does your mum know you didn't apply to the Ministry, after all?"

"No." I hesitate. "She… She thinks I'm taking a course in communication before applying."

Dom nods silently and we continue browsing the shop in silence.

"I think I've got everything I need now." I make my way to the till and pay. The lady there is nice, chattering about different pallets and brush-sizes. I nod absently as she bags the items, my mind sizzling.

Dom's stands by the door, watching me with uneasy eyes as I make my way down the aisle.

I stop up, "Okay. Out with it. Now."

Dom hesitates. "It's just… it was bad enough when you and Ted moved in together. I… I mean, we both know how your mum is… and with Molly doing so well at the department of regulations…"

"And what should I do? Go into the Ministry and demand a job?" I laugh. "It's not like I've got the grades or experience to show for it."

"I know. Shit, I know, Luce." She reaches out to squeeze my arm.

My throat is tight. "It's not like I'd like it, either. I'd wither up there, Dom. It'll kill what's left of my spirit."

I can feel the sharp hint of panic, this starchy grey threatening to pull me under. "And I need that spirit, Dom. I need it. I can't remain plain Lucy. I need more. Something that's mine. And Ted, he gives me more."

Dom's eyes are bright. She grips my arm, fingers digging deep with something akin to understanding. "I'm just saying… Don't let the ambition burn out your priorities. You mustn't lose yourself in this fight."

My arms are loose, uncomprehending, at my sides. "I just want to paint, Dom. That's all."

Chin down, Dom's eyes turn up to meet my gaze. "I know. I'm just saying… Maybe that's not all you want."

The thing is, you never get what you want straight away. And what I want is for Pippa to be a horrible person. But she's not. She's actually really nice.

I try and plaster a smile on my face as we lie on our backs getting a massage and a manicure at the same time. Lily's passed out and is snoring beneath her face-mask, having had one cucumber slide off her eyes. Pippa is babbling on about wedding plans while Dom and I ooh and ahhh.

It's hard to hate her, especially when she explains how all her friends are still in Scotland and how she hopes we'll be good friends. It reminds me so much of how I'd felt when I'd first moved to London that I find it hard to not return her smiles and squeezes.

"So Ted finally asked you to be his best man?" Pippa turns attention to me suddenly.

I blink, panic blistering my stomach. "Uh. Yeah?"

"You did say yes, didn't you?" Pippa asks, her eyes wide. "Because he'd be devastated if…"

"Yeah. Um, I said… yes. I said yes." I nod, my voice an octave higher than usual, as I turn pink with embarrassment. This situation is outlandish even for my messed up life.

"You what?" Dom sits up on the bench stuttering, but recovers herself. "I mean. Seriously?"

"Yeah, Ted asked me yesterday." I say, and I'm surprised at how even my voice sounds. Dom's eyebrows disappear behind her fringe in surprise.

"It's going to be such a joy!" Pippa just beams with her perfect smile and squeezes my arm. "This wedding is going to be the best wedding ever! I'm so glad that we get to share it with you, Lucille."

"Me too," I hear myself say, in a voice that doesn't even sound like my own.

Behind Pippa's beaming face, Dom rolls her eyes, her expression a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

"Hey, do you know where Ted went off to last night?" Pippa asks, "he never made it home."

I blink at her. "No. He left after we spoke. I - I have no idea where he went."

"Okay." She smiles genuinely at me. "Oh, well. Thought you might have an idea."

"Nope, sorry." I sink, lying down and remain silent for the remainder of the appointment.

We end up at Daisy's, which shouldn't surprise me, seeing as it's just about the only decent bar in Grimsby. Pippa is her usual self, exclaiming "Shots!" and "Girls' night!" within frequent intervals. Lily is just as enthusiastic, screaming along with her while downing shots of water.

"It's just not fair." I murmur at Dom. "Lily's nearly half my age, yet she's got everything. And I? I've got nothing. I've got a cat and a rubbish Muggle-car…"

"And a pony-tailed boyfriend…" Dom raises her glass at me with a meaningful glance.

"That too."

"Well. You've got me, too."

"Yay." I stare into the bottom of my glass dismally.

Dom elbows me. "You could sound a bit more enthusiastic."

I turn to face her. She's wearing a mixture of sadness and humour on her face. I sigh. "How did we become the spinsters? We had so promising futures…"

"Lucy…" Dom leans back in her chair, slightly exasperated.

I brace an arm against the sticky table, tilting my head at her. "Let's just have a good night, yeah?"

Dom hesitates before nodding. "We'll have a great night and get smashed."

Ted 22, Lucy 19

"I'm just saying that –"

"No, Mum, you're just saying what you'd like me to do, not what I'll be happy with."

Mum puts down her coffee cup. "It's not that simple, Lucille. You don't just get to do whatever you want and be done with it. It needs to be practical, and –"

"Practical? How is being ruddy unhappy practical?" I ask pointedly.

"You're living on your own with Ted, you've barely passed your Hogwarts degree and you're broke – Lucy, you need to start thinking longer than the next five seconds!"

I feel her gaze on me, choking in its sympathy. The people in the café around us are all happily chatting and laughing, while we stare daggers across the table.

My voice is surprisingly even. "I am, Mum. I'm painting. I've –"

"Painting?" Mum rolls her eyes dramatically. "That's fine for a spare-time hobby, darling. But you're not going to get paid for that. You can't just expect Ted to provide for both of you. Molly's providing for herself and Charles. They've got a plan."

"Oh, and I suppose that if idle Molly's got a plan, nothing can go wrong, eh?"

We stand, facing each other. She looks mad, madder than I thought she'd be. I had never guessed that my life would evoke such emotions in her. Outside cars zoom past us, passing in a blur of the city. I can feel the cleft between us. And it doesn't feel as comforting as I thought it would. This secret may tear us apart.

Mum digs out money from her purse with immaculate precision, her voice rational in a off-hand version of herself. "No, I'm just saying that they're prepared. Your father and I won't stand by and be able to help you every time you trip over your own two left feet."

"I'm not asking you to help us!" I nearly yell, her eyes burning in mine. "I'm not asking you for anything."

"Oh, that's what you've been doing all your life, Lucy." Mum's voice is soft, but her back is rigid. "You need to take responsibility. I was hoping that with the internship you'd upped your game, now that Hogwarts failed at making you present in the now."

I feel the stab much too close to my heart as I try and control my emotions.

"I have taken responsibility. There's a place down at Covent Garden who've contacted me. They want to do an exhibition with some of my pieces."

"That's lovely, dear. But I'm just saying that you can't live off painting. You'll need more." She tells me in a tone similar to my Transfiguration teacher's when she'd told me I'd never make it out of Hogwarts. Condescending and disapproving.

"I have more. I've got Ted. And all I want to do is paint. This is my more, Mum. Accept it." My voice is thin as ice.

"Oh, grow up, Lucy. Start seeing the world for what it is. And the fact is that you need to find a job."

Behind my back, I make a fist so tight that sharp pain begins shooting up my forearm. I bite the inside of my chin to stop the words, but they spill out anyways.

"Just… Just leave, Mum. Butt out of this. It's my life. Just leave."

And she does. Out the door, and down the street before the words have flown off into the air where I can't catch them anymore. The cars keep on zooming past me outside as the chatter in the café continues. The world doesn't feel one bit different, yet everything has shifted.

The half-mooned crescents in my palms, marked by my nails, don't fade for a week.

The doorbell clings as Ted, Scorpius, Darren and Albus step into the foyer, and, to my despair, each turned towards our table. As they make their way to our table, my eyes catch Ted's in a silent moment of recognition. I look away a second too late as he smiles at me.

"What are they doing here?" I turn to Dom. She shrugs, emptying her glass with an upturned mouth. "I don't know, but I- I need to go, Luce. I've got… something."

"You don't have to leave just because he's here," I say, looking at Darren who's right behind Scorpius. "You'll need to get used to it at some point, like me."

"It's fine." Dom smiles and gets up, kissing my cheek. "I'll see you around."

I give her a look, but she shrugs in a vain attempt at indifference. She hesitates, "I'm so glad we're alright."

It's a slow moment as our eyes meet. My smile is slow with an unpractised clumsiness to its curve. Dom squeezes my hand gently and with that, she's gone in a whir of perfume and smiles.

I only have a few seconds to process it, before Scorpius's long fingers are pressed against mine, his smile big. "Hi snuggles! The fishing-trip was uuhhh-mazing."

"Oh, it was? Learn anything exciting?" I ask with unease.

Scorpius looks smug. "You betcha. I'll tell you all about it when we get home."

"Great." My smile is weak.

And suddenly Ted is next to us, kissing Pippa's cheeks, lips and forehead. And all I can think is about how that used to be my spot. And suddenly, all I can think about is his thighs between my legs, the wall at my back.

And I'm not quite sure what that says about me, other than that I miss him.

Like crazy. I miss him like crazy.

Ted 22, Lucy 19

Let's play a game of truth or dare. I dare you to stay. I dare you to be right here, by my side. Stay here. Be here.

I gaze around the apartment. There are a million pictures and small anecdotes scattered about every corner of our little world. It's too much to let go off. It's too many sorrows we'll have to wave goodbye to.

"Don't leave. I know I'm horrible, but don't leave."

Ted sighs, his voice creaking as he turns to face me with sleepy sussed eyes. "This needs to get better, Luce. It needs to."

"I know. I know." It comes out like a breath.

"You can't keep running away. I need to know what you want. How you feel."

It's a distant memory, what happened before. What the argument was about. How it began. Even the anger's disappeared. All that remains is a blistering panic.

"I know." I sink. "It just… It feels like the end every time we fight."

He turns to face me. "It's not. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, bickering about where the couch goes or how I leave wet towels on the floor."

"You always leave them right in the middle of the bathroom, honestly –"

"Lucy Weasley." His eyes are brown, wide with mirth, as he murmurs, brushing my ear with his lips. "I'd rather spend a thousands nights with screaming fights than wake up without you."

Our breaths mix. My heart soars. "Likewise."

"So, do you approve?"

Ted has inched over to me, his smile secretively sweet as he sips his beer, his gaze resting on Pippa. He's got dirt across his jaw, still in his overalls and smelling like sweat and the ocean, and honestly, all I want to do is embrace him. He's a stranger in a different world, but somehow he's the same.

I look down, fumbling with the pink straw in my drink.

"She makes it hard to hate her," I answer finally, my voice unnaturally loud in the club. "And I truly, really wanted to hate her."

Ted laughs. "I'm glad. I mean, I could say the same for Scorpius…. But, you know."

"Heh," I scratch the back of my neck, my reply trembling with my faltering breath "Yeah, I do know."

We settle into an awkward silence, so uncommon for us that it rattles my bones. I sip my drink again. Ted is staring at Pippa from across the room, just like he used to look at me, and it hurts. It hurts like nothing I've experienced before, deep in my gut. It's a chilling pain, as I stare at them, unable to look away.

"So, you're the blacksmith of the village?" I ask in a frail attempt at conversation. I try not to, but my voice is blaming, the anger ill-masked. I am back at staring at him, waiting for that final sense of resolution, for something to step back into making sense.

All I can think about his hand on my thigh this morning and his peaceful face underneath the starry sky. How can he be so casual after last night?

Ted stares at me for a while, his blue eyes unreadable. "Yeah, I am. Got a problem with that?"

"Nope," I say, popping the p.

"Great."

"Uhu."

I can't help but stare at his silhouette. I don't want to look at him, but it's like an unstoppable urge to look closer. It's odd, learning new things about him. It distances us further, reminding me that I haven't known him forever. That there are these years, here in the space between us, that I'll never have back.

I open my mouth to say something – what I don't know, but then Pippa swirls in, her cheeks flushed prettily.

"We need tequila shots!"

"Uh, no we don't." James leans forward, shaking his head.

Pippa pouts. "Does no one want to take tequila shots with me?"

"Sorry, sweetheart." Ted kisses her softly. I look away.

"Seriously?" Pippa looks bewildered. "Everyone loves tequila! And everyone has a tequila story. Isn't that right, Lucille?"

I sink. "Nope. Don't have a tequila story."

Pippa laughs. "Oh, come off it, everyone has a tequila story."

"Not me. Nuh uh. I don't have anything like a tequila story."

"Oh, come off it, Luce," James laughs. "I've seen you and Ted get hammered by those shots alone, and tequila's one nasty motherfucker, you've got to have one."

"Cut it out, James," Ted says lowly and I turn away from the crowd, ordering another pink drink off Daisy. Pink is safe. Pink has never hurt anyone. Not like tequila and wicked lime.

Ted's hands are going further and further up Pippa's skirt as I order more and more pink drinks. I feel Scorpius's hand on my thigh, a condescending tone, but ignore it for another blushing cocktail. They make me feel girly and pretty, which is the first time today.

In the early hours, the conversation turns predictive. Pippa is going on about weddings and planning, Ted is smiling at her and Scorpius is listening with rapt attention while Darren and James are playing Black Jack.

"So, you must have done a lot of planning, yeah?" Scorpius asks in a sad attempt at interest. I guffaw into my drink at his sad pathetic attempt, stirring my drink idly.

"Oh, yes. Me and Ted both." Pippa nods enthusiastic. "A wedding needs to be planned properly. I mean, who runs off to get married somewhere scrummy without rings?" Pippa laughs. "That just won't do."

"Yeah, who does that?" James asks suddenly, looking up from the card game. I catch Darren's widened gaze from across James.

Pippa laughs. "I honestly don't know, but probably stupid drunks who get an annulment straight ahead afterwards. Those weddings never last."

"You'd be surprised to know that a lot of those weddings are actually without any alcohol consumption." Darren's mouth twists.

Pippa laughs. "Yeah, I'd like to see proof of that."

"What do you think, Lucy? Got any idea how many of those weddings are happening a year?" James looks to me. Ted shifts next to me.

"Nope. I haven't got a clue, James." I shrug, stirring my drink.

"Really?" James looks confused. "You must have done tons of news-reports on it."

"I honestly don't remember."

The cocktail glass hits my teeth; a curse and there's Scorpius patting me on my back while James stares at me. The pink drink spills on the bar and okay, admittedly, I may not be in the best shape to handle this. All I know is that I'm going to kill James Potter and his smirking face.

"Let's go home." Scorpius's voice is soft.

I flash him the finger, old news.

Ted mocks me, even with his back turned. I know the feel of his chest expanding beneath my hand, of his smile curved into the hollow of my neck. I remember cheap whiskey and splitting smiles and I feel stuck between laughing and crying. I know him, and he just keeps on looking the other way. I watch them as they stare at each other with matching blue eyes, their fingers intertwined. There's no choice anymore.

I slide off the chair. The ground feels wobbly, uncertain and hostile beneath my feet. And Scorpius is there in front of me, his hand large and cold. I tighten my grip on his shoulder, feeling his jumper bunch beneath my fingers.

It's funny how snapshots of sensations keep on playing off and on, like a broken record. I glance at them again, but swing back to Scorpius's wide eyes. "Lucy…"

Minutes seem to pass, maybe even hours?

Ted laughs loudly, grabbing Pippa's thigh like it's the most natural thing. And I still can't look away. The memories are stacking high between us as the night blurs and I'll hate him, I swear. I'll hate him forever. It sounds frighteningly simple. But I should have stopped him. I should have told him.

Today, we fall in love –

My mouth is dry. "Let's go."