Same long brown hair, same nose and smile, same face shape and bone structure. Everything about me is a reminder of her. Everything except my eyes. My eyes are grey. Not brown like my mother's and not black like my father's. My eyes are mine.
But it is not just looks that my mother and I shared.
She was a private person, secretive some would say, quiet and distant with everyone but me. But she had an excuse for all the things that she held back. She was an Unspeakable. You would have to be one too to know what she did. You would have to be one too to know how she died.
I am not one, so I know neither.
All I know is that this is probably something my mother would have done. Try to ignore something, lest that it affected her.
I've found too that pretending nothing ever happened is probably the best course of action. After all, there were only three of us present in that bathroom and if I can manage to avoid the other two, then I can happily get on with my life.
Or just plain get on with my life. Happiness doesn't have to be a part of it.
Surprisingly, it's turned out to be easier than I thought. Avery and I cross paths often enough despite my best efforts not to, but he still hasn't mentioned anything about our fight. It makes me wonder if there is any possibility that Black somehow managed to punch him into oblivion.
Black. Bloody Black whose behaviour is as normal as ever, something that I should have been relieved about, but for some reason I'm not.
It doesn't make any difference, I've realized. It doesn't matter that Black is not saying anything because he doesn't have to say anything to bring back what transpired that night. I can still hear his words in my head, clear as if he were uttering them anew.
As if I could ever do that.
As if I would, even if I could.
"Grey, are you okay?"
Lily's voice brings me back to the present.
I look around the half-empty libary, feeling disoriented.
"Yeah... Yeah. Great."
"You've been a bit jumpy lately," she says hesitantly. "Is there something going on?"
But I'm not lying, am I?
There is really nothing going on. There would be, if I was actually thinking of running away, but I'm not. I do not hate my father, like Black did his parents. Sure, I hate that he can be so cold at times and always such a coward when it comes to our pure-blood relations, but I'm one to talk. Cold and Coward are fighting over which one gets to be my middle name.
So far it's a draw.
"Okay. Are you joining me and Mary in Hogsmeade on Saturday? Alice is going to go with Frank."
I'd forgotten about that stupid trip. Which is unbelievable considering that it's this Hogsmeade weekend and Wilkes' wish to spend it with me that caused all this mess.
"Yeah, I guess," I mutter.
Then out of the corner of my eye I see Black and Potter enter the library.
Okay, that's enough studying for me today. Time to depart.
"I've got to go," I tell Lily quickly, as I jump out of my seat.
She looks like she's about to say something but I leave before she gets the chance to.
If I'm going to avoid someone I might as well do it properly.
And what is wrong with Potter and Black anyway? I swear they've visited the library more this month than they've done the past six years combined.
On the way out of the library I pretend that I have not seen them, even though I can feel Black's eyes follow my movements.
I hate the expression that I know is on his face.
All things considered, between Avery's anger and Black's pity, I would choose my cousin's wrath any day.