Obsidian & Bronze {Fred Weasley}

14. The story of the scar

I had never been the type to show off my body, not that I was ever given any kind of opportunity, but after the accident it was almost like I had been given a free pass to hide away from the world, under big t-shirts and oversized jumpers because it was easier that way. I didn't hate my body, just wasn't particularly fond of the questions that would inevitably come with it.

And as much as I enjoyed my time with Fred, things were becoming progressively more intense and I wasn't sure I would be able to hide it any longer.

I wasn't sure why I was so adamant that this scar was a part of me I wanted to conceal, I just always assumed it would less complicated that way, because I was no hero and I really didn't need anyone to think of me that way, I did what anyone would have done, didn't I?

Regardless, I had more pressing matters to worry about, as the trail was slowly drawing nearer and I still had no idea of what I was going to present as my statement.

Truth be told, I still hadn't actually confirmed with Remus I was even presenting a statement, because honestly this whole potentially reuniting with my dad business was proving harder than I could have predicted and I had neared changing my mind on multiple occasions.

I couldn't disappoint Remus. The foundations of my life were built upon false hope and broken promises, I was not going to give Remus the same thing.

The masses of questions were continuing to pile up within my mind as I sat on my bed, the clock beside Hermione reading 4:00am, surrounded by balled up pieces of parchment and not a shred of sanity in sight. I was exhausted and had seemingly got nowhere.

I glanced over to my nightstand and pulled out a familiar piece of parchment from the top draw and began reading once again. I had done this every night I couldn't sleep since I found the letter a few days ago, which turned out to be every night, because somehow I had become an unintentional professional at evading sleep.

I let the words consume me once again, I allowed each and every paining sentence to burn away at the broken pieces of me I thought I had escaped a long time ago, obviously I had not.

And once again, I found myself in a toxic cycle of longing for a man I never knew, a man I never needed, sobbing over the life I was robbed of and crying for the girl I was supposed to be, all because of a few words on an old piece of parchment. A piece of parchment I had stolen, might I add.

But this time was different, for the burning sensation of heated tears that stung my eyes at an intensity that imparied my vision, did not subside like it usually did. The tremor in my hand did not die down, but in fact increased and I was left unable to hold the letter within my grip.

The quiet chirps of morning birds, and the gentle patter of rain tapping against the window panes were no longer soft noises I found comfort in, but instead blinding sounds that consumed my senses as I lost all perception of my soundings.

Why did I let myself get like this?

The heat that started in my heart had now extended as far as my fingertips as my whole body burnt with a sickening sensation I longed to escape, I tried to shout for safety but the only sound comprehensible was violent sobs that convulsed through my body as I shook uncontrollably.

"Ari, you're safe, I'm here" A gentle voice had suddenly made itself known at the end of my bed, one I recognised to belong to Hermione.

She gripped my hands tenderly, forcing me to look at her as she displayed deep and heavy breaths I could only assume she wanted me to replicate. Although as I copied her intake of breath, my chest stung with a harsh touture I couldn't help but choke on slightly, disrupting my steady pattern and returning my breath to an agonizingly quick and shallow pace.