Bloom Again /James Potter/ ❁book 2❁

❁Chapter 11❁

Chapter 11

The greenhouses were bright as Bea sat at the back of the class, a frown on her lips and her parchment in front of her but she was hardly taking notes. Beau was sitting next to her with his head in his hand and copying the notes Bea had given him that she had already studied last year. She knew what Sprout was talking about, but she just liked the normality of her old life, of going to class and being there and participating but she wasn't doing that, she was silent and quiet and the rest of the class chatted to each other and Violet sat a few seats in front of her and she was quiet too and her eyes bore into the Gryffindor's head.

She wondered why, it was a simple thing to ask and a question on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't bring herself to say it. Her friends had taken so long, Remus had taken so long to finally talk to her and she had to talk to Bertie herself and as much as she loved them and loved having them back - she couldn't stop herself from thinking about it, about them, and about the fact that she had been so lonely.

The fact that she had James, but he had them too and he was with them a lot and he didn't think to say anything to them, but she knew she shouldn't bring him into it when he was the only one who seemed to care enough to push his own hurt to the side in order to be there for her.

If she didn't have Beau, then she'd have no friends. James was her best friend, but he was her boyfriend and he loved her far too much to leave her, he had to push what he felt about it all to the back of his mind because Bea was the most important thing to him and he didn't care how much pain he felt because of it because he knew that Bea was in a lot more pain and she needed him.

But her friends didn't seem to think that and every time she found her mind wandering to that, she could feel the anger pulsing through her and her hands curl into fists. They had left her to fend for herself after it and she finally realised how bad it was, how her pain was more than valid, and she felt all of it.

She had understood their excuses about it being hard for them too, but she didn't know why because it wasn't about them. They weren't the ones that had to feel that man's hands on them, or his lips and tongue and feel him inside them. They weren't the ones begging and pleading for him to stop and screaming or feel the pain of his claws on their skin, but she did, she had to endure that nightmare and she endured it every night when she slept too.

She couldn't be mad at James because he never once complained, and he didn't have anything to complain about, he had her and that was the only thing that mattered. She didn't die, she was alive and breathing and Bea and he only cared about that. If he thought over what happened to her he would get so indescribably angry that he wasn't himself and he knew he would do something, he knew that he would think of ways to kill the man that did it, but Bea saw it.

If she was sadder one day or she had that look in her eye or she woke from another nightmare she saw the look in his eyes that told her, that confirmed that he was ready to snap, and she was too. She was ready to listen to him scream as loud as he needs to because he didn't react to what happened to her and she knew sooner or later that he would need to because he was pushing it to the back of his mind and she thought maybe getting it out would help him, but she didn't know. She didn't know if it would help or not, but she thought it could, she was sure that it might.

Her snapping was coming sooner too, and she knew that if any of her friends used that same excuse for ignoring her, that they were hurt too, that she would say something - she'd shout and scream and blow up because she didn't care.

Her eyes snapped to her left, in front of her but just down a desk and she heard her name followed by giggles erupting around them and her eyebrows knitted in confusion. She narrowed her eyes when one of the girls sitting there with her friends turned to look at her, snorted and then turned around with a snide look.