Not That You Asked

Thank you for not asking? Why had he said that? They'd given him his space; they'd not pestered him with questions. They didn't want to intrude on what they knew had to be a traumatic experience.

They were concerned to see him throw himself into his studies. They had rationalized he was focused on not living through a repeat of last year.

They were happy he had been made captain of the quidditch team. Ecstatic he had been named a prefect. He was a role model for the students, even if he didn't think so.

They had decided not to tell him about themselves, they didn't want to appear selfish, they didn't want to put him in the middle or make him feel like an outsider. They didn't want to hurt him. They wanted him to be as happy as they were. They wanted to show him what it was like to be a teenager.

They had been eager to have him spend time with them at his house over the summer but were content with themselves when told they would have to wait.

They explained to him nothing had changed because of what had happened to them. He hadn't said anything; he simply sat there, looking as withdrawn as he had at the end of last term.

They were happy he was keeping busy. He was happy, and so were they, they had each other. They found out so much about each other that they never realized before, they grew closer as he drifted apart.

They returned to his house for Christmas. They invited him, but reluctantly accepted his refusal. They assumed he wouldn't be alone. There would be someone there for him.

Christmas had been wonderful. His family had congratulated them on their happiness in such dark times.

They returned to school and found his gifts on their beds. They promised each other to find something for him when they went to Hogsmeade. They had wanted to make sure their first Christmas would be special for each other.

They sat in the common room playing chess by firelight. He sat across the room from them, he must have been reading.

He stood up and they asked him where he was going.

When he told them where, they automatically assumed he wanted them to come with him.

They were confused when he told them no, that he was used to being alone. They never questioned why he was thanking them or what question it was they were supposed to have asked.

They waited for a moment, and then silently followed him. He walked away from the kitchens. He turned into a classroom. They heard him talking, they only heard one voice, his.

They heard him slump against the wall and begin to sob.

They heard him curse them. They heard him curse their names.

They heard them curse what they had.

They heard him curse that they had left him and forgotten all about him at Christmas.

They heard his sobs echo in the darkness.

They heard him profess his hatred for them.

They heard him curse the kiss she had given him.

Kiss? They looked at each other and wondered what he was talking about.

A sudden realization dawned upon her face.

A memory rushed through her, shaking her to the core.

She turned and ran away into the darkness of the night.

Confused, he stood there a moment before running after her, leaving him behind. Alone.