Leave Out All The Rest

Whispers

Chapter 24: Whispers

POV: Scorpius

I want to say after the little mishap during Christmas dinner that things went back to normal, that conversations and laughter continued to ring through the cold, cheery night, but I'm sure Mrs. Weasley would wash my mouth out with a bar of soap if I said such a bloody lie.

Truth is, I fucked up. 

By the time Mrs. Potter announced it was time to open gifts, I realized this truth, but, of course, it was too late. 

The others were too busy letting themselves get caught up in the presents (seeing as the alternative was to think back to the awkwardest dinner in history), but I found it hard to smile even when Mrs. Molly Weasley gave me a hand-knitted, emerald sweater with a silver S on the front. It matched the ones Al and Lucas got (to go with our Slytherin pride, I suppose). I placed the sweater among my pile of unopened gifts, reaching into my pocket to pull out a small, thin parcel I had saved in there.

I knew it was guilt the moment my heart picked up in rhythm when I thought about facing Emily. I thought it was anger before, for her distancing herself from me at the start of term, for her not trusting me enough to let me know what happened inside her head, for her dating someone like Lance Greyback. And maybe it still was anger. Maybe I was still mad that I did not know my best friend, but Emily was...is my best friend. And I hurt her.

No amount of courage was going to brave me into going up to her, but I knew it had to be done. I forced my feet forward to where she stood silent, pale, and lonely. I saw the distance in her emerald eyes, so I pressed my palm on her shoulder, trying to reel her back in. No words were going to be good enough, I knew, so I extended her the parcel after waving my wand over it, ending the enchantment that made it compact.

Emily did not look at me as she slowly peeled the glitter wrapping to expose a smooth, silver picture frame with thin, gold letters engraved along the edges. I saw the reflection in her eyes, the reflection of that picture perfectly snuggled in its frame. It was of us. It was the last day of Fourth Year, we were sat on the grass, she in a pretty dress, sunglasses on the tip of her nose, long, black hair tied up at the top of her head, as I had my arms wrapped tightly around her, giving Louis Weasley the most stupid grin I could come up with when he requested a serious pose for his photography project. 

I remember thinking then, Salazar, how I love this girl. I remember thinking then, She knows just how much I do.

I don't think that's true anymore.

Emily let out a breath as she turn the picture frame over, hiding our smiling faces over her chest. She leaned over, pressing a kiss on my cheek before she turned on her heels, heading to the backdoor of the Potter home. 

She never looked me in the eye.

Mum came to find me a moment (or an hour) later, telling me it was time to go home. We made way to the Floo, balancing gifts and my father as the Potter/Weasley clan bid us a good night, as well as thanking us for having attended their festivity (equally as drunk as my father was, Ron Weasley had called out that it was the last time, too). We vanished in green flames as Hermione Weasley smacked her husband over the head at the same time as Mrs. Potter had.

Sleep had arrived in hour episodes before I had the energy to call it a new day. It was a mindless one the first hours as I sat with my cousin Liam, playing Wizard's Chess and hearing him talk about his new girlfriend Lily Potter (much to my annoyance), his almost-kiss with Harper (much to my disgust), and how, no, he had yet to hear from Emily (much to my dismay).