Evan Rosier (Harry Potter Fanfic/ Prequel)

4 | 46 | He Can't Make You Happy

Sunday, January 5, 1975

Blair and Cynthia went to Hogsmeade without me.

That sounds bad, but I told them to go ahead and go. I wanted to stay at Hogwarts and study, or just read.

Also, because I know Evan and Ana will be at Hogsmeade.

So while everyone is at the village, I'm isolated in the Ravenclaw common room.

~ * ~ *
I'll get over it. Truly, I'm hurt, but it was just a crush anyway.

I know it has to be only natural for my appetite to drop more everyday. Everyone goes through this, what makes me special?

That's what I tell my friends when they express their concern, and I believe it, too. So what if I don't feel like eating much anymore, or if I don't feel like hanging around anyone or doing anything besides reading?

I'll get over it, I'm sure.

It just worries everyone when days and weeks past, and I haven't gotten better.

Blair is pushing me to eat and drink, and Cynthia is insisting that I should talk to her. I just find it annoying for a good two weeks, but then I realize that they might be right.

A month passes and I get frustrated at myself.

How could I let myself get so depressed for something so small?

And look at me now, I'm skinner than I should be, I don't socialize enough, and I'm starting to get stomach pains every single day.

I realized something today, too.

My health shouldn't rely on Evan, on whether or not we're together. I put my happiness on the line for him and I can't sit around and wait for him to make me happy.

I'm still figuring it out, I promise.

~ * ~ *
On a stressful Thursday, I sit in the library, which is full of other people. Baby steps, right?

Amanda Davis approaches me, which immediately brings a scowl to my already grave-looking face.

"What is wrong with you?" She asks.

I look up at her, but don't respond. If she isn't going to be more clear, I'm not going to talk to her. What does she even mean by that?

"You look like you got hit by a truck," she continues. I look around for her cronies, but I couldn't expect them to be in the library. "Seriously, eat a meal or something."

"My well-being is none of your concern," I snap.

She stares down at me, not angered or anything. Just surprised. "Looks like no one else is concerned with your health, either. Surely that Burns girl would feed you."

I stand up and grab my book with a sharp glare to the girl. "I'll say it again-"

"I don't care about your well-being," she interrupts. "I'm just saying. What the bloody hell is wrong with you if you're going to sit there and let yourself deteriorate?"

I stare at her, clutching my book with a pale, bony hand. My stomach pains are starting to act up again.

She curses under her breath. "Get a grip, (L/N). You're so pathetic."

"Just stay away from me," I threaten, weakly I might add. She snickers when I leave the room.

No matter how insufferable that hog is, she has a point.

I am pathetic, and I am just sitting here like a pile of dry bones.

I need help.

Before the next Hogsmeade trip occurs, I find Cassia lying on the grass beside the castle. I find it odd that she's just lying there staring up into the sky, but I don't question.

I sit on the ground next to her.

She doesn't look at me when she speaks. "It was only a matter of time before you came to see me. What's up?"

I sigh. "I don't know. Cynthia and Blair say I need help, and I agree. I've been kinda blocking everyone out..."

"Because of Evan and the Young girl?"

I purse my lips and nod. "It really brought me down. What else can I really say?"

"That you haven't been eating and drinking properly. That you probably haven't been getting a lot of sleep. That you're scared."

"Scared?"

"Scared that you're as pathetic as people say."

A sigh escapes my lips again while I twirl a blade of grass around my fingers. "People talk."

"As always." She gives me a look. "Belle, it's not up to Evan to make you happy. He's just a guy, one that didn't care about you enough to tell you about his girlfriend."

The way she says it makes it sound a lot harsher than it really is, but I nod anyway. She's telling the truth, I have to admit.

"Arabelle, listen to me." We lock eyes. "You're not pathetic. You just have to accept that you can't be with Evan; that's okay. He isn't worth it."

Maybe she's right.

That night, I mull it over in my head for a rough fifteen minutes before I get some good rest, better rest than I've had in several weeks.

~ * ~ *
Published 6-29-20