Pity the living- Slytherin boys (part 2)

I have to be

"So you and my brother haven't done anything then?" We sit in the Astronomy Tower at sunset, drinking beers and smoking cigarettes.

"No," she shakes her head, "I've tried, that one time I wanted to make you upset. But, he said no. At the beginning I got really upset, you know."

I turn my head to look at her. "Yeah?" I question.

"Hmh..." she nods her head, "I was upset he didn't want me. I mean, how could he not want me? But then I realized he just cares about me." She sips from her bottle.

"How does that mean he cares about you?" I ask.

"Well, Tom knows me best. He knows everything about me. And, he knows I am kind of addicted to sex. He knows it's a problem, he is constantly trying to get me to stop. He doesn't want to contribute to the problem."

I bite my inner cheek. "Problem?" I respond.

"Yeah, Matty." She says, "I have been making some bad decisions over the last few years. Ever since Cheryl got killed." She breathes smoke into her lungs.

"Bad decisions make good stories."

She looks up at me with a small sad smile, "Maybe."

We get quiet. We both just stare forward at the sunset reflecting over the black lake.

"I don't think I would have still been alive without your brother. Tom is like... the most caring person. I never thought I'll say that about Tom Riddle, but it's true. I think he is my best friend. I love him, I really do. You two are really similar. The only real difference is that when tom gets angry, he could kill. You are just more generally angry. You're angry all the time, but in small amounts."

I chuckle, "I'm never angry when I'm with you. I'm happy... when I'm with you, with all of you. I'm calm when I'm with you. I'm never calm, ever. I don't have that privilege. But, I am when I'm with you." A smile crawls on my face as I speak of my friends, I can see she's glad to hear it too.

"You make me happy too, Matty."

We stare into each other's eyes. Something is different about the way we look at each other, there is something that connects us.

It's already dark at this point. The stars shine in the sky.

We used to fight here when the sky looked like this.

"You remember what this place used to be for us?" I question.

"Our bloody boxing ring." She jokes.

"It's strange how it turned from such a bad place to such a good one. This place calms me down." I look up at the sky.

"I always found this place calming. I always loved it here." There is silence again, but it's not awkward. It doesn't feel weird. It feels familiar, and nice. Like the calming silence before falling asleep after a difficult day.

"It's so strange how much you and Tom have changed. You used to be so... full of rage. Not to me specifically, but to the world. Like the entire world was against you and you needed to destroy it."

I sigh, "It was like that. I mean, it felt like it. It's what my father taught us. He taught us who was with us and who wasn't, and he showed us very clearly what happens to us if the people against us didn't get why they 'deserved'."

Her eyes squint, "How did he show you?" She asks.

"He cursed us, hit us, those sort of things. If he didn't get what he wanted he always did that."

He eyes turn sad. She feels sorry for me.

"But," she shakes her head slowly, "you... you were so angry... was it because of that? Or...?" She really cares. She really wants to know how it was growing up there, at my house.

"I wanted to hurt all the people who hurt me. I wanted them to feel my pain, the pain of growing up with my father, the pain he showed me when he failed. And every enemy of my father hurt me, because whenever they won, Tom and I would be to blame. He would do to us what he wanted to do to them."

"I'm so sorry." She speaks quietly, almost whispering.

"It's not your fault. It never was. I realized that because of you, actually. Seeing you try to protect yourself from us made me sick. It made me realize that all those people I thought hurt me so bad, they were just protecting themselves from my father. It was like I was my father and those people were me. I did to them the exact thing my father did to me. I acted like my father." I never told this to anyone before.

Something about her makes me feel safe. Like she would never judge me, like she'd always understand, or at least try to.

"You shouldn't feel bad for hurting us. Just like I was trying to protect myself from you, you were protecting yourself from your father by hurting me." Bloody hell, she's amazing.

"Yeah, but I was still acting like my father. And I'd rather get tortured everyday for the rest of my life then be like him."

My eyes widen as she wraps her arms around me. I didn't expect that. I didn't expect a hug.

"I'd rather you, or anyone else cursing me, hitting me, doing anything to me then you getting hurt. I'd rather do anything then you getting hurt." She whispers in my ear and moves away from me, pecking my cheek on the way.

I'm flustered. I don't know what to do.

"What made you finally stop hurting people?" She asks.

I breathe, truly thinking about the question.

"I'm trying to be better then my father. I have to be."