Working Through the Rest

Green Boats

I think I register the throbbing pain in the side of my head before I register that a book has just come crashing into me. Scorpius is asleep beside me, still wrapped in my robes, and I look from him to the person who hit me – Karl Jenkins. He's stood above me, scowling unpleasantly, the Hufflepuff badge on his robes incredibly prominent.
"Wake up," he snaps.
"You're not allowed in here," I mutter. "This is the Slytherin Common Room."
"Yes, well, you're meant to be awake," Karl points out. "So get up. And wake up the freak."
"It's also a Saturday," I don't move, deciding to ignore his comment about Scorpius; it's not worth picking a fight over.
"And it's also Craig's memorial in an hour. So get up and get your shit together."

I watch silently as he stalks out the room. No one even comments and I lean back into the arm of the chair, breathing out slowly. I don't think I can face this right now, but I have to accept this. Because at least part of it is my fault. I shouldn't shy away from that.

Beside me, Scorpius begins to stir. I don't move until he is awake and begins to sit up without relying on me. He looks at me as I continue to stare at the ceiling, breathing in and out slowly.
"Are you okay?" he asks quietly.
"It's Craig's memorial service today," I murmur. "Karl just – came in."
"Oh."

He starts to say something about the mark on my face but I stand up, starting to pick up the books that fell on the floor last night. Scorpius watches me silently as I get more and more agitated, eventually slamming the piles of textbooks into the table and pushing myself into the wall. Scorpius stands up quickly, putting a hand on my shoulder to prevent me from doing something worse. I want to. I don't.
"Sorry," I mutter.
"You don't have to go," Scorpius says quietly. "If you can't face it, no one who actually knows what happened could blame you."
"I have to come," I say firmly, surprisingly calm. "I have to come because I – need to apologise. As best I can."
"This wasn't your fault."
"I'm not innocent."
"Albus," Scorpius says. "Albus, if it's a question of innocence, then we're all screwed. We all messed up. You can't blame yourself."

I smile weakly, nodding, although I don't really believe him. Messed up is a light way of putting it. We got someone, we got a child, killed. He probably knows that I don't believe him, because he picks up the pile of books and squeezes my hand gently.
"I'm going to be right there," he says gently. "If you don't want to come, don't. If you need to leave part way through, leave. It's okay."
I nod. "I'm going to shower and change."
"I'll see you in a bit," Scorpius says. "I can put your robe away for you."
"Thank you."

*

I tread slowly down towards the bathrooms, towel folded in one hand, clean robes in the other. I know that going to this is the right thing to do. I just wish the thought didn't terrify me so much. But it does, and I am still going to go. It's the least I can do. To say sorry. To try and set something right.

The bathroom is almost empty and I step into one of the showers, starting to unbutton my shirt. I need to do this, however slowly. Slow steps. Slow steps will make some sort of difference. If I can step steadily enough, maybe I'll walk the marathon in the end.

The shower is almost too hot when I step in, but I don't flinch away. I just stand with the water running over me, so hot that it almost stings. I close my eyes. The water seems to be a decent enough distraction for me to think clearly with my eyes closed.

And I use it. I think. I think about before all this. I think about when I wasn't by any means happy, but I wasn't scared. I wasn't about to go to the memorial service of a dead classmate.

*

I don't actually realise how long I spend, standing with the water running over me, until there's a knock on the door.
"Albus?" Scorpius calls. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," I turn off the shower slowly, beginning to shiver as I wrap the towel around myself and open the door. "What is it?"
"You've been in there for quite a long time," Scorpius smiles softly. "I thought I should make sure you were okay."
"Thanks," I wipe the moisture off my hands and pick up my clothes. "I'll be quick."

Scorpius nods and I shut the cubicle door again, drying myself off and pulling my new shirt and trousers on. They're normal. They're part of a routine. And that is relatively calming.

I hang the towel up on the pegs and walk out into the hallway, where Scorpius is waiting for me. He smiles at me and I take a breath.
"Are you okay?" Scorpius asks.

I nod and we start walking. Out the Common Room. Up the stairs to the Great Hall. Out into the grounds. It's quiet and cold and I pull my robes closer around myself, shivering as cooling water drips down the back of my neck.

There is a crowd of students gathering by the lake and we speed up a little as we realise that we are probably late. This is confirmed as we get closer and Rose glares at us pointedly.
"You're late," she hisses at me.
"Sorry," I mumble. "I didn't realise how long I was in the shower for."

It's small. It's something that should be a joke, something to laugh over. And it can't be. Because my life has now just become one distraction after another. The shower was just something else that kept my mind occupied for a bit.

Rose rolls her eyes and we look back at the lake silently. I try to catch my breath while simultaneously adopting a suitably sombre expression. It's harder than I thought it would be. Because, no matter what, I can't cry. I can't give the wolves more food to play with.

There's a boat that I recognise as one of the boats that First Years arrive in floating in the lake. It's filled with blue and white flowers and the people I recognise vaguely as his friends stand around it, all holding more bunches of flowers and cards.

I don't really react much as a few speeches are made. Talking about Craig. Talking about what he was like, how much we'll all miss him. And something unpleasant hits me. I knew Craig for years. We shared a dormitory. And yet, I somehow knew almost nothing about him. I can't help but hate myself for that.

I say nothing as I watch them push the boat away over the lake. It does not need guidance as it drifts in the vague direction of the shore where we caught the boats in our first year. As the wind starts to pick up again, I start shivering, leaning, for some reason, into Scorpius.

He doesn't react, so I don't move away. There's something oddly comforting about him, being close to him. I feel safe. I feel like it doesn't matter if I cry. It probably does. But I can't justify why it would.