Noyade | Rabastan Lestrange [2] ✔︎

06 | MORNING HOURS

Phoenix woke up shaking.

Her eyes still closed, she tried to breathe deeply and slowly she felt her muscles relax. Nonetheless, when she opened her eyes, she still felt Bellatrix' hands around her throat that were trying to choke her. She still saw her cousin's furious eyes just inches above her own. Phoenix looked at her hands, which were still slightly trembling, and pushed the damp hair out of her forehead. "It's just a dream. You're fine."

She slowly sat up, placing her bare feet on the cold floor next to her bed. Her gaze wandered over the other girls. All of them were still sleeping in their beds. When she caught sight of Maureen's face she couldn't help but smile faintly. Somehow she had seemed older during the previous month of school, but now that she was relaxed and the corners of her lips were slightly tucked upwards, she looked just like she did the year before. If only everything was still like it was supposed to be.

She had once read a book about two lovers that were separated by the young man being drafted for the second Muggle world war. They had continued to write letters to each other while he was at the front. The young woman sent him letters for years after he didn't answer anymore, thinking – or hoping – that he was too busy to respond. Five years after that she had found out that he had died during the second year of the war. Although she had cried over the book when she read how the young woman dealt with it, she had believed that there was nothing more beautiful than how she still loved the young man even after his death. However, now that she knew what heartbreak felt and looked like in real life she wanted to throw the book into the flames of the fireplace in the Common Room. Even if love was a beautiful thing while it lasted, she couldn't stand the sight of her best friend being so heartbroken. In reality, there was nothing beautiful in losing someone.

★

Climbing up the steps to the Astronomy Tower felt like an escape. With every step that she took, Phoenix felt like she left one bad sentence that she had heard about herself in the last three weeks behind. The air seemed less tense and the weight on her heart was slowly lifted. It was almost as if she was flying.

However, when she reached the top, the tower was already occupied. Opposite the stairs there was a slim figure leaning against the railing. The tall boy was dressed completely black with the hood of his jumper pulled over his head. It was almost like he wanted to merge into the darkness that was still surrounding the castle, but was slowly fading into morning light as the sun crept up on the horizon.

With one look the weight was crushing back down on her shoulders.

She would have known this figure anywhere, even with a costume. There was nothing she wanted to do more than sneak her arms around his torso and take in the scent of sandalwood and old parchment that usually surrounded him, resting her head against his shoulder. Before the summer holidays she could have done that. He would have smiled at her and slid his fingers between hers, but now there was a huge distance between them. Almost as if an ocean was separating the two shores on which they were standing. She could barely even bring up the courage to walk over to stand a few feet apart from him on the railing.

He didn't move or indicate in any way that he noticed her standing next to him while a cold autumn breeze tousled through her dark hair. He just stood there like a beautiful statue and stared at the horizon.

"Will you ever talk to me again?" Phoenix asked. Her voice was just a whisper and she was afraid that the breeze would carry it away instead of him hearing it.

Rabastan grabbing the railing so hard that his knuckles turned white, indicated otherwise. He didn't look at her, but she watched him shake his head. "There's nothing to bloody talk about."

"Please, Rabastan," Phoenix begged. "We don't even have to talk about what happened. We can talk about anything else. Whatever you want. Just please don't keep ignoring me. I don't know how to deal with that."

"You don't know how to deal with it?" Rabastan inquired, his voice full with disbelief as he finally faced her. "Do I look like I know how to deal with the fact that you're engaged to one of my closest friends?"

She looked up at him. His face was partially covered by the shadow of his hood, but she still saw the dark circles under his eyes and the hurt look in his eyes. She slowly shook her head. "Of course not. I don't know how to deal with it either. I..."

"Oh please." Rabastan threw his hands into the air. "As if you didn't know about it. Don't act as if you're innocent. You simply kept me by your side because you liked to have somebody near you that's weaker than you are."

"That's not true. I don't think you're weak, Rabastan."

"Sure," he snorted, stepping closer. "Then why did you make me believe that you cared when in reality you knew that you would marry another? I was ready to be your Mr. Darcy, Phoenix, and then I had to find out that you didn't even mean it. Do you know how cruel that is?"

Her real name out of his mouth was like a stroke into her stomach. He hadn't called her by her full name for months and to her his nicknames had felt like a special connection between the two of them. She didn't stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks as she ran a hand over her hair, which was pulled back into a ponytail. "I didn't know that I would have to marry Jack. Please, Rabastan, just listen to me for a minute."

He ran his sleeve over his cheek. "I can't."

"Why not? I never intended for all of this to happen, none of it." Phoenix' voice was shaking, but he shook his head.

"I still can't." She saw a tear trail down his cheek as he hesitantly brushed hers away. His fingers felt cold against her skin, but she would have given anything for him not taking his hand away, which he did only a blink of an eye later. "Every time that I see you I want to pull you into my arms and kiss you. I want to comfort you when you're sad and laugh with you when you do, but I can't have that. There's a huge distance between you and me which I can't cross, which I'm not allowed to cross." He pushed the hood of his jumper back to reveal his nearly white curls. "And it shreds me in pieces."

Despite all of his accusations she didn't cease to feel drawn to him. Maybe she would have believed the same thing, maybe there was still a chance.

He kissed her forehead and stepped away from her and towards the stairs. "The only way to mend them back together is by staying away from you."