Twenty-Twenty Hindsight

Chapter Four

After that, the library became our unofficial meeting place. Whenever either of us had spare time, we would go to the library. We would find each other and either simply sit in silence, studying, or we would talk quietly. We became quite close, and he would listen while I vented my frustrations about life. I would do the same for him.

Eventually, he started kissing me goodnight when we left the library and went our separate ways. That was after only a few weeks of meeting each other almost every day, around the middle of January.

One day, things somehow led to me going with him to the Slytherin common room - where no one really cared if people from other houses came in - and we went to his room. Well, it wasn't exactly his, considering he shared it with four other boys, but...it doesn't matter. Point is, we got pretty into it. We made out for a long time, then he undid my bra.

That made him the first boy to do anything more than kiss me. If he had been afraid of Ron in the slightest, I'm willing to bet 100 galleons that he wouldn't have even considered dating me.

After a few weeks of that, I officially considered him my boyfriend. I don't know when he started considering me his girlfriend, but again, that's not important. I knew that we were a couple, and it was the happiest time of my life.

In February, he asked me on an actual date for Valentine's Day. I was shocked. He didn't seem the type to celebrate frivolous holidays like that, but I readily accepted the invitation and we made plans to sneak out to Hogsmeade. I had a lot of doubts about the plan, but he managed to convince me.

I met him down by the Slytherin common room and we walked together to Hogsmeade. It was rather easy - we just went to this passageway with a statue of a one-eyed witch and went through the statue to a tunnel that came up right in Honeydukes. From there we went to Madame Puddifoot's and had some tea and a little chocolate truffle Valentine's cake.

While we were there, Ryan, a boy that I knew from a coffee shop in Diagon Alley, smiled at me. I waved back at him and smiled because we had become good friends while I stayed in Diagon Alley the previous summer. Obviously, I hadn't seen him in about 6 months so I was happy when I saw him again.

We stayed to finish the rest of the cake, but he was a bit edgy. I didn't know why and I kept trying to make conversation, but nothing worked. He didn't seem to want to talk at all. I thought he'd had a fight with his father again and he was just in a bad mood about it so I didn't worry too much.

Well, it is now readily apparent that I should have worried.

We got out into the cold, deserted main street in Hogsmeade. He grabbed my wrist roughly and dragged me to a bit of a shady area of the town. There was no one out because it was bloody freezing, but at the time I still thought someone might hear us.

He started shouting at me because I'd said hello to the boy from the coffee shop. I tried to explain, but he wouldn't listen. Finally, my temper reached its limit and I just exploded at him, yelling at him to shut up, etc...not a good idea.

The second I told him to shut up I knew he was beyond angry. He was livid. He turned away from me, slowly, then lunged to face me before I could even blink.

"DON'T YOU EVER TELL ME TO SHUT UP AGAIN! DO YOU HEAR ME? ARE YOU LISTENING, YOU FUCKING WHORE?"

I was so shocked at his outburst that I didn't know what to do. I'd never imagined that he would ever yell at me like this, or call me a whore. I'd thought he loved me.

I turned to walk away, not wanting to stay with him if this was how he would treat me. He stalked after me, and I started to run. But he caught up and grabbed my arm, jerking me back and pulling me around so hard that he dislocated my shoulder. I screamed in pain; it hurt more than you could imagine. The pain was blinding. All the time, he continued to yell at me.

I pleaded with him to stop, to heal my arm, to leave me alone; I couldn't make up my mind which I wanted more.

Finally, he stopped yelling. Instead, his voice turned into a deathly quiet, hoarse whisper, filled with barely controlled rage.

"You listen up, and you listen good," he said to me, his breath hot on my neck as he said it right into my ear. "I have no use for a girl who's going to go and shag random little fuckers she meets in stupid, stuffy little tea shops. If that's what you're going to do, your shoulder won't be the only thing that's broken."

At that point, I tried to say that Ryan was just a friend. He didn't want to hear it. He raised his hand and slapped me so hard across the face that the only reason I didn't fall over was because he was gripping my upper arm so tightly that I ended up with a dark bruise there for a week.

Tears stung my eyes, but I didn't want to cry. Crying was for the weak; I wasn't weak, I told myself.

"That is fucking bullshit, and you know it. I saw the smile he gave you...you fucked him because you're a whore, and you know it, so don't lie to me!"

"I'm not...I'm not lying..." I choked out. "I shook his hand when I left Diagon Alley...that's the only time I ever touched him!"

He grabbed my other arm then, and twisted it up behind my back. It hurt, but not nearly as much as the other arm, or even the still stinging slap on my face.

"DON'T LIE!" he yelled into my ear. He twisted my arm farther, and I realized there was no use trying to convince him of the truth.

"Fine..." I sighed quietly.

"What did you say?" he asked me, the anger still readily apparent.

"I said...fine, I...fucked him..." I waited for him to break my other arm, but instead, he released it and turned me around slowly to face him.

For a moment, I thought he was going to curse me instead. Then I looked into his eyes. They seemed...I don't know how to describe it. They were no longer angry, but had returned to the soft, gentle, loving look he seemed to reserve just for me.

He reached out towards me, and I flinched back. It seemed to pain him to see me do that, which was thoroughly strange, given that he had just beat me up. I took a step towards him, and another, and he pulled me tightly to his body, clutching me like I might slip away if he loosened his hold.

He pulled out his wand and cast a spell on my dislocated shoulder. As it ground back into place, I shrieked in pain again, and passed out.

I guess he caught me, because when I awoke I was in his arms. I don't think it was for very long that I was unconscious, because we were still in the same spot. He tilted my head to face him, and the look in his eyes was pure sorrow. He looked like he had never been sadder about anything in his entire life - that's what he wanted me to believe.

"I am...so sorry..." he said softly; I could barely hear him. He was casting spells on my shoulder to dull the pain. He muttered a few on my face as well; I don't think he knew about how hard he had been gripping my other shoulder, or else he would have healed that as well.

When he had finished he turned to face me again. He just stared into my eyes, then pulled me to him like he wanted to draw me inside him. He whispered into my ear, "I love you...so much...I just hope you can forgive me..."

That was the first time he told me he loved me.

His breath was tickling my ear and neck. He was shaking slightly. It was a moment before I realized he was crying. His tears wet my neck where it was exposed in the biting cold. I didn't know what to do, so I did what I'd do for anyone who was crying: I comforted him, told him it was okay, that everything would be all right.

How I wish that had turned out to be true.