Still Delicate

The Contenders

Chapter 30 - The Contenders

I'm sitting in the waiting room of the Potions Abuse Rehabilitation Centre. It smells like St Mungo's, of disinfectant and gloom, although granted it is quite a bit more comfortable. I'm sitting on a squishy peach coloured couch, flicking through a two month old copy of Witch Weekly, waiting for the nurse to call me. There is a lady in her early forties, I'm guessing, sitting across from me and she keeps eyeing me curiously. She knows who I am. I know that look; I've gotten it for basically my entire life.

"Miss Weasley, you can come now," a young nurse says softly to me, like I'm dying. They all talk in soft, calming tones here. I find it creepy and unsettling. I'm used to shouting and arguing in basically every aspect of my life.

James has a room to himself. It's very bright, with cream walls and a yellow bedspread and lamps everywhere. It's creepy too, like everything in this place. James is sitting on a chair by the window, his feet resting up on the coffee table, reading a book.

At the sight of him, I burst into tears, and am completely mortified by my actions.

It's not that he looks bad. He doesn't, he looks fantastic. He has put on all of the weight he lost over the last few months, his hair is slightly tidier and he has finally shaved. He looks positively frightened by my reaction to him. He looks exactly like his old self, but he's not his old self.

He's reading a book.

James Potter.

It's like the thought of Molly having sex; it's sick and wrong and disturbing.

"Jesus, Red," James says, amused. "Do I really look that bad?"

I cheer up now that he's called me Red again. I really hadn't realised just how much I missed him. I'm finding it hard to get words out.

He puts down his book, folds his arms and stares at me. "You can sit down, you know."

I sit down on his yellow bed and wipe away my tears. He's definitely going to use this against me in the future.

"How are you?" I ask him gently.

"Fuck off," he replies bluntly.

"...Excuse me?"

"Every person I've come into contact with for the last few weeks have been talking to me like I'm terminally sick; the therapist, the healers, my parents...I feel like a fucking four year old. Even Laura's being nice which is really weird. I'm fine. I was an idiot and I deserve a good bollocking for it, but nobody seems to want to yell at me," James vents, getting up and pacing around the room. "They're all about 'healing through love' here and it's such a load of crap! I was depending on you to give out to me Red, it's what you're best at! You're a real disappointment."

Suppressed anger starts bubbling inside me, but I don't want to let it out yet. He's still fragile. I don't know how far I can go.

"I don't want to give out, James. I'm just glad you're doing well."

James looks a bit frightened now. He looks how I felt when I saw him reading a book. This place does strange things to people, apparently.

"You don't want to give out," he says flatly. "Really. Even though I lied to all of you for months? Even though I was a complete prat to everyone we know? Even though I missed your son's birthday, I wasn't there for Al when Jenny miscarried, I was Scorpius's Best Man -"

"FINE!" I snap. "You were an absolute and utter IDIOT! What were you thinking? You could have been kicked off the Quidditch team, it's a miracle you haven't been! What you did was reckless and stupid and illegal - are you ever going to grow up?"