YO! lol. THANKS SO MUCH FOR THE REVIEWS!!!! You guys rock. It's hard though cause this is my first story- and with people actually liking I'm becoming more of a perfectionist lol.
Quick note: I messed up his eye color on the last chapter because i started writing this before the 7th book came out. -.- ... I know, it took me forever to get the courage to put that one chapter up lol.
Do you know those days- those moments in time when you really NEED to tell someone something, but at the same time, feel you can't? That it's something eating you up, but telling isn't an option, except inside your head- telling means letting people see you for the real you- FEAR. HATRED. ANGER. It means someone can see behind your shielded self. Maybe all I need to do is tell- tell what only my very best friend knows. My true feelings on the death of my mother.
Do you want to know the truth?
The truth is that, even though I hide it very well, I tend to dwell on the past a little too much.
It was the summer of my 14th birthday. I was going into fourth year. I was so ecstatic that I had made it through another year at Hogwarts, my father could barely take it. My mother thought it was amusing how happy I was. I kept blabbering about my year and about my friends and classes. I spoke of the Quidditch team I had made it on the year previous. I also mentioned James and how annoying he was; something else my mum laughed about. She laughed often. I loved that about her.
My dad, Oliver Wood, was a big time Quidditch star, but not nearly as obsessed with it as he had been while he was at Hogwarts- or so I’m told. He and my 17 year old brother walked up ahead while I blabbed away to mum.
Oh, my mum. She was truly an amazing woman. She was so confident in herself and always looked on the bright side of things. Perfect. That’s how I’d always see her. The exact shade of perfection in every way. She was smart, pretty, funny, and she took care of the family as best she could.
My father was devastated when she died- I don’t remember him ever braking down like that before, but it was like a broom that had been smashed by the whomping willow. Flying, happily for one minute, then shred into a million pieces the next.
I could barely stand it at the wake with him like that, let alone the funeral, but that I’ll tell later.
The summer had barely started and I was planning on having a big party for my birthday. My plans, however, were ruined when something shook my small world…
My mother had been in an accident, it seemed. She was a smart witch, but when it came to the explosion… I suppose it happened to fast for her to do anything. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and that wrong place and time were lower London, June 30th, 2017- One O’clock pm. “Dark Wizard Kills Seven,” was what the headlines read. The wizard was, of course, caught and sent to Azcaban, but it was too late. Too late for my mom. Too late for Christina Wood. She was already dead.
It all fell apart after that. My whole world was spinning so fast, but I felt like I was stuck there in slow motion. That’s why I ran. I ran away from all of it. I couldn’t TAKE it anymore. I WOULDN’T take it anymore.
As I watched my mother sink into the earth in her coffin, I noticed that I too was being watched. By everyone it seemed, everyone was either watching me, my brother, or my father, and it made me angry. I’d look up to see a fellow class-mate staring at me like I’d grown another head. ALL of them, even my friends, and I hated it. Well, all of my friends EXCEPT one.
James was respectfully bowing his head, watching too as my mother was lowered to her grave. I noticed this and was grateful, if only for a second.
When it was all over and people kept coming up to me, I snapped. I first backed up, and then turned on my heel and ran. I ran faster than I had ever run before, all the way down towards the woods. I was being followed, this I knew, but I didn’t want to be caught. When I was stopped by someone’s hand, I fell into the arms of none other than James Potter.
Tears were in my eyes when I looked up at him, people were coming for me, I knew it, and he was stopping my escape.
“Please James,” I cried, “Don’t let them get me, I can’t go back.”
James simply looked at me, a soft expression in his warm brown eyes.
“Libby,” he said quietly, “You have to.”
“No! You don’t understand! Everyone keeps talking to me, James. Talking and talking and talking, but I can’t understand a word they say. Please, I don’t want to go back, not now.”
I watched his eyes for some sort of sign of what he was going to do. I saw a look cross his face of surrender. He sighed, looking behind him, then took my hand in his and began to run for the woods, dragging me behind him.
He’d understood, he’d taken me away. I’d never be as grateful for anything. I couldn’t think anything as we ran together through the woods behind my mother’s grave. I just let James drag me along with him, not realizing that that
particular moment- that day was the end of it, there was no turning back. We were stuck together, even more than we had been before.
I stayed with James and his family that night. Our fathers had discussed it and daddy agreed that perhaps I needed time to be away from all the going-ons at home. The whole time I was there, Mr. and Mrs. Potter looked at me with nothing but warmth in their eyes. Lily and Albus, each younger than me by at least two years, seemed a little nervous about saying the wrong thing by mistake, but I appreciated their company anyways. I liked te soft silence; the fact that, for once, no one was telling me how sorry they were. I didn’t have to see my father look away every time I caught his eye because I have her eyes- my mother’s mischievous blue eyes. They fed me, let me sleep in the same room as Lily, and everything seemed almost normal.
At least until nightfall… when nightmares of mother woke me from my sleep.
I carefully got up and slipped quietly out of the room. Sneaking into James’s room as silently as I could, I was startled to find him sitting up in his bed, wide awake.
“Libby?” he asked in a hushed tone. “What are you doing in here?”
I stood still, my eyes wide for a whole second before half running, half walking to his bed. I threw my arms around him and cried, quietly, into his arms. He seemed startled at first, but slowly came to hug me back, soothing my weeping form. I realize, now, how awkward it must have been for him, but he helped me much more than he knows.
I always say that everything happens for a reason, and I think that James was MEANT to be the one to run after me. He was the one who had always been there for me; he is still
always there for me. He understands that even though I seen like I’m never unhappy, memories get to me too. Those are the things I hide from everyone else, for I’ve never cry in front of anyone one else again. Ever
. I never saw the reason to. James saw the weakness in me no one else has. That’s why he’s my best friend.