𝖮 𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖮𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 ʰʲᵖ

• ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔑𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔱𝔢𝔢𝔫 : 𝔒𝔭𝔢𝔫 𝔘𝔭 •

• Chapter Nineteen : Open Up •

[••• ––– •••]

"You're making me nervous." Harry blurted out even before he could stop his mouth from saying something.

(Y/N) blinked, looking sheepish as she pursed her lips in anticipation.

"Sorry." she mumbled, hoping that Harry won't see the red tint on her cheekbones where her blood rushed on.

Clearing her throat, she fixed the collar of her shirt and looked beyond the view.

"I don't have anyone else to talk to." (Y/N) started and Harry sensed the meaning behind it — which he didn't like to acknowledge at all. "But, you see, I don't want to tell this to anybody in the group yet. I'm scared that they will say something that can hurt me again."

Harry wanted to ask "What?" but he composed himself and waited for her to speak again.

"I think Andrew's mad at me." she continued, breathing heavily.

"How — how do you know that?" the boy replied, his breath began wafting through the air as he speaks.

"It's... I was drunk... well, half-drunk." she said hastily, turning to Harry for a side glance.

Harry, by instinct, nodded as his answer. With that, (Y/N) began to narrate the whole story to him. She told him everything, about what she felt, what she hadn't told the girls, what she wanted anyone know.

When she finished, (Y/N) stared hopefully at the Gryffindor boy, wishing for him to understand what she said rather than telling him all over again.

"Oh." was the only word that came out of Harry's lips.

(Y/N)'s feelings sank when she saw how Harry's eyes avoided hers. Maybe it was a bad idea to tell him what has been bothering her. Maybe he doesn't want to talk to her at all. Maybe she shouldn't have called him in the first place.

All of these ideas were washed out when Harry suddenly smiled at her, causing the girl's heart to skip with familiarity.

"Have you tried reaching him out?" he asked softly, his voice sounding genuine. "Like, calling him or sending him letters?"

"What if he won't answer?" (Y/N) worriedly asked.

"What if he will?" Harry stated back, raising an eyebrow.

Harry knew he formed a point on (Y/N)'s mind.

She licked her lips and looked down at the white snow.

"Okay." she mumbled, more to herself than to Harry. "I'll call him."

(Y/N) felt Harry's eyes as she pulled out her phone and searched for Andrew's number.

It didn't take a minute when she found it. She looked at Harry for reassurance — which was provided immediately — before she clicked the telephone icon.

There were a few rings. (Y/N) supposed either Andrew was still at school — packing — or at home — unpacking.

A few more rings — with (Y/N) nervously breathing raggedly — before it was answered.

The Ravenclaw girl looked at Harry, alarming him that Andrew was on the other line. He replied with a soft grin.

"Hello? Andrew?" she muttered through the empty line.

There was muffled shifting on Andrew's side, making (Y/N) assume that Andrew was indeed unpacking at home.

"(N/N)? Hey." Andrew muttered back, his voice low as though he has been on a one-kilometer marathon for three days straight. "I'm sorry I picked up late. I just got home and I was unpacking my things."