Do you ever have a feeling that you’ve done something that is inexcusable? Something that you’ll never be forgiven for? Like Merlin is going to come out of the woodwork and make you beg for death? That is how I felt. I felt like someone had punched me in the gut and then while I was down was stomping on my face. This feeling wasn’t only because I was hung over.
This feeling was because a married man was lying next to me.
His eyes were huge and he seemed unable to move. I was locked in place. I was very much naked and not willing to expose my body to him (again). Not that he hadn’t seen it before last night. I had brown in way too many ways for him to like my body again. Why was I caring if he liked my body? He was married. There was a part of me that cringed at the word. I had slept with a bloody married man. If things weren’t already complicated, I had made it ten times worse.
I didn’t know what to say to him. I was at a loss for words. Do I crack a joke? I think that would be highly inappropriate, but no one ever said I was very classy. Do I cry? Scream? Puke? The latter sounded very promising as my stomach was in knots and I felt a pounding behind my eyes. Being hung over was definitely not ideal in the current situation. There we go! I could crack a joke about the alcohol. Blame it on the booze.
I should probably just let that one be.
“This isn’t good,” James mumbled. I could still vaguely smell the whiskey on his breath as it tickled my face. I flushed at the sound of his hoarse voice.
“No kidding,” I retorted. His eyes narrowed slightly on me. Right, the wrong time to not take something all too seriously. I understand I have a problem.
“We should get up,” James told me. I nodded in agreement, but neither of us moved. I sure as hell wasn’t moving first. He wasn’t seeing my naked arse anymore. Not that I particularly wanted to see his naked arse. Not saying it isn’t a nice arse, it really is….okay, I’m losing either way here. I pulled my blue sheet tighter around my chest, as though it would erase what he saw last night. I wasn’t the teenage body I used to be.
“Well, get up then,” I demanded. I saw a blush form on James’s cheeks.
”Err…right,” He mumbled. Slowly, he pulled the sheets away from his chest. He searched the ground over the edge of the bed, not pulling the sheets away from his waist. That didn’t mean I didn’t have a good show. He was way too fit for my liking. A sick part of me wanted to touch his stomach and claw as his back. He finally managed to find his boxers and put them on underneath the blanket. That sick part of me was a little disappointed.
I managed to find my own undergarments and threw them on, all the while covering up my body from his view. Not that it really mattered. I’m sure he got a fantastic view last night. I wasn’t particularly sure how I was supposed to react to this. Do I classify it as a one-night stand? Seeing as how we were together for two and a half years, I don’t think so. Do I say it was alcohol waking me up? Hardly, he was married. Not as though we could get back together. He was married after all.
As we both got dressed, backs turned to one another, the bitter sweet feeling began to sink into my stomach. I had shagged for the first time in about a year. I was actually afraid I was going to grow moss down there at the rate I was going at. But there was a catch. There’s always a catch. It had to be James freaking Potter. A married James Potter. A James Potter that had broken my heart not too many years ago. A James Potter that I had vowed I wouldn’t allow to ever come near me again. Woops. Broke that rule ten times over.
I went straight for my door without turning around to make sure he was following. I needed to get him out. This wasn’t right. I felt like vomiting everywhere. This was disgusting of me to do. I cannot believe a drunk me would do that. I wanted to smack myself a few times, but to save the embarrassment, I didn’t. I could hear the soft pats of his feet on my floor as I neared the front door. I swung it open, gesturing for him to leave.
“Aren’t we going to talk about this, Vi?” James asked. I stared down at my feet. I didn’t want to look at him. I already felt way too ashamed.
“No.” I told the floor. I didn’t want to look up into his dark brown eyes and to feel myself lose control like I have done so many times. I didn’t want to see him run his fingers through his tangled mop that he liked to call his hair. It hurt me to even think about it.
“Vi, come on,” James said. I saw his arm reaching out to me and I immediately cringed away.
“James, we can’t do this. You’re…you’re married. To a beautiful woman who you should probably go home to. So go. Please,” I demanded, rushing through my words. I looked up in time to see so many emotions sweep across James’s face that I wasn’t sure how to react myself. He looked hurt, disappointed, but most of all conflicted.
“Err…right. I should get going,” James said in a soft voice. It almost made me feel for the lad.
But I didn’t.
He walked past me, brushing his arm against mine. It left goosebumps there. He turned towards me, like he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. He smiled weakly at me. I forced a smile back that probably looked like I was ready to go into NEWT potions and knew I was going to fail, but had better get it over with before too many people saw me blow up my cauldron.
“It was great seeing you, Vi,” He said before apparating away.
“VIOLET!” I heard someone shriek in my ear. I sat up so straight and fast that I’m pretty sure I snapped my spine in half. I let out a groan in pain that seemed to be mixed with a shriek of shock. I blinked a few times up at Pam, a mid-fourties woman who also worked front desk with me. Her hair was greying slightly and her cheeks looked ready to slip into her eye sockets. She was wearing loose dress clothes, not honestly caring if she looked like shite. She was amazing.
“What’s going on?” I asked her, blinking at an empty front desk.
“You’ve been sleeping for the last hour. If Healer Bennett would have walked past, you would’ve been without a job,” she scolded me, handing me a file to put in the desk I was sleeping on. I slipped it into a drawer before pushing myself toward her on my wheely chair (is there really anything else to call it?). I looked at the nearly empty waiting room. This was a first.
“Where’d everyone go?” I asked her.
“They’ve got a fresh batch of intern healers in, so we’ve been going through patients like crazy,” Pam told me. I felt a familiar pang in my chest at her words. New interns. That’s where I should be. Not stuck behind some damned desk.
“Avada me, Pam. Please. Put me out of my misery,” I said dramatically, resting my head against the amazingly placed wall next to me. She patted my shoulder, turning back to the magazine in front of her.
“You’ll live, lovey,” She said, flipping a page obnoxiously. I groaned, finding myself staring at the clock as it slowly ticked. Very painfully slow. It must not have been five seconds before someone was obnoxiously clearing their throat in front of me. You know the noise. Like they want your attention and they think they are better than you so you better give your attention to them. Immediately. This caused me to turn slowly towards them.
A intern healer. Fantastic.
“Can I help you?” I asked her, my tone very cold. She blinked a few times at me, her long eyelashes shielding her bright blue eyes. I wanted to stab her with my quill.
“Healer Bennett wants Wilma Culvin’s med reports,” She said, her pointed nose sticking high in the hair. I really wanted to strangle her. No doubt she came from a prestigious pure blood family who didn’t taint her name.
“How did you get an internship with Healer Bennett? Daddy pay your way in?” I asked her. She looked offended before Pam quickly handed her the med notes. She scurried off, not even giving me a retort. Oh come on. I live for the retorts.
“Why do you always find it necessary to fight with interns?” Pam asked me. I shrugged.
“It’s fun,” I told her. I could see the smirk at the corner of her mouth. She was proud even if she wouldn’t admit it.
“You’re going to get in trouble because of that mouth someday,” Pam told me. I shrugged again. It wasn’t like it would be shocking to me.
“If I’m going down, you’re coming with me,” I threatened. She raised her eyebrows. It probably wouldn’t go quite as planned, but Pam was the one who taught me how to throw a mean right hook. Before that I was all wand.
“Girls?” someone said in front of us. I wanted to groan again. Standing in front of us was Healer Bennett. Immediately behind him was the intern, a large smirk on her face.
I threw my wand directly at the couch. There was a small spark that flew out of it, but missed hitting anything important (not that I have anything important in my flat anyways). It had been three days, eight hours, and thirteen minutes since I had last seen James Potter but it hadn’t made the memory disappear any. Actually, it had made it worse. I could still taste his lips on my own and I could still smell his cologne underneath my nose. It all made my nose and eyes burn. Why was I putting myself through this over a married man?
I sprawled out eagle style on my living room floor. The carpet was hard and not at all comfortable. There was a stain not too far from my face where I had spilt tea and never got around to scrubbing it out. In all reality, I wasn’t going to scrub it out either way. I Just liked to convince myself that I would eventually. I felt like that stain. Dull, boring, and never being able to clean up my act.
Damn, I’m pathetic.
There was a loud knock at my door. I groaned and rolled over onto my back. “It’s unlocked!” I shouted.
“So how was getting trashed at the reunion with Potter and Weasley?” I heard my brother ask, the door clicking behind him. My body stiffened.
“W-what?” I asked, sitting up. He crossed the room, sitting down on the couch next to my wand.
“Everyone saw you drinking with them and I know you. You never drink if you don’t plan on getting drunk,” He said, a knowing smirk on his face.
“Well… I woke up in my room. All I remember,” I told him. Maybe I was missing the small part that Potter was next to me when I woke up, but details aren’t pertinent I suppose.
“Anyone next to you when you woke up?” Adam asked. I felt my face burn with embarrassment.
“Glad to hear!” Adam said, smirking at me as he layed out on my couch, his arms behind his head. Way too comfortable here.
“What’re you doing here, Adam?” I asked him, taking a seat on a stack of Daily Prophets resting on my coffee table.
“I do have an ulterior motive for being here,” He said, closing his eyes as a smile crossed his face. Not a good smile either, but not quite a smirk. I didn’t like it, either way.
“Spit it out,” I demanded. He turned towards me, staring at me for a few seconds. I knew it was bad if he had to choose his words wisely. I was getting ready to tell him no.
“Mother and Father-“
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say!”
“You started with the worst possible thing. I know it can’t be good.”
“You could at least let me finish.”
“No point.” I hissed. I rolled over on the ground so I was back on my back, propping my hands behind my head like he was doing. I felt anger boiling in my stomach. I was not going to discuss Mother and Father. It wasn’t going to be possible.
“Well they were discussing their will yesterday with me,” Adam interjected. I clenched my jaw harder.
“And they mentioned how they are not giving me any money? Fantastic,” I said dryly. I didn’t want to hear what my ‘lovely’ parents had to say. I had obviously had enough of them.
“That’s not what they said. They want to see you. Talk to you about possibly putting you on their will,” Adam tried, but was greeted by my harsh laugh.
“They can go to hell. They probably will, if we are being honest. They can take their damned will and shove it up their arse!” I hissed in a low, threatening voice. Adam sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. He was tired. He probably had already argued with Mother and Father today about me.
“Fine. I thought I’d try. At one point in your life your family meant more than anything to you.” Adam mumbled. I felt the hit straight at my chest. It stung more than I thought it would. Especially coming from someone like Adam. He didn’t say things like that. Ever.
“That was before Mummy and Daddy dearest didn’t like the way I was leading my life and cut me off in every way possible,” I said in a sarcastically sweet tone. Adam blinked a few times, obviously feeling the blow I sent him.
“They are your parents, Vi. You can’t ignore them forever!” Adam said as a final statement.
“Oh, but I can. And I will.” I told him. He sighed, giving up on the cause. This happened about once a month for the past five years. Adam would try to fix the relationship between myself and our parents. It always failed.
“Why don’t you stay and watch some Quidditch with me?” I suggested. Adam nodded moodily. I turned on my wiz telly and turned it to the Cannons v. Harpies game.
I laughed at Adam and took a bite of my greasy, pepperoni pizza. It tasted delicious. The worst things for you normally gave you the best sensations. I suppose that was true in every aspect of life. The worst things made you feel the best. I shifted on my couch. I was glad Adam couldn’t read my mind or anything. Things would get pretty awkward if he could.
“Do you realize that the Cannons have a losing record right now?” Adam asked me, digging his whole hand into a bag of chips.
“Do you realize they are one game below five hundred? This could very well be that game, my brother,” I told him, a smirk playing on my lips. I saw his cheeks flush slightly. When it came to his Holyhead Harpies, you didn’t mess around.
“Vischov will save it for them. Just watch.” Adam mumbled moodily, glaring at the screen as though that would help the Harpies play.
It didn’t. His precious Vischov dropped another pass and the Cannons came back to score with it. I wasn’t aware that Adam had such a colorful vocabulary until now. I didn’t have to wonder where he got it from. He was really spending way too much time with me. I knew that I didn’t have a life, but I didn’t see Adam as being as anti-social as I was. Maybe he just never slept and worked his social life around the clock.
There was a knock at the door and I looked at Adam curiously. He shrugged nonchalantly and turned back to his bag of chips he was busy devouring. I took a final bite of my pizza and set it down on the box top, wiping my face on my sleeve unattractively. Who cares? It’s just Adam in my flat. It isn’t like I expect my prince charming to swoop in suddenly.
I pulled open the door and my jaw dropped straight to the floor. Standing in front of me, dressed in neat dress robes, was James Potter. He was nervous. Far too nervous to just be delivering me the forgotten breadsticks. I blinked a few times, very confused. Adam was shouting at the telly behind me, but nothing seemed to reach either of our ears.
“Violet, can we talk?” He asked tentatively. I was at a loss for words. The images of us tangled in each other kept flashing through my head. I tried to push them away but they were always there, haunting me.
“About?” I questioned. James shuffled his feet.
“You told me I could come to you with anything, remember?” James whispered his question, staring down into his hands. I felt a pang hit my chest. I had said that right after we had split up. I felt obligated to.
“Yes.” I told him. I didn’t think he’d ever use it.
“I’m taking you up on that. As long as the offer is still there.” He said, finally looking up at me. My breath hitched in my throat as his eyes met mine. I felt a familiar desire crawling its way up my legs and into my spine.
“Of course it is,” I said breathlessly. A small smile appeared on his lips.
“Can I come in?” He asked. I felt myself cringe.
“Adam’s here.” I told James. He nodded in understanding. “Let me get rid of him quick.”
Without an answer, I shut the door in James’s face. My heart beat was going at such a rapid rate that I was sure Adam would know something was up. I turned towards Adam, going back to the living room. He was so transfixed on the telly that He didn’t see the anxious expression on my face. James was waiting on the opposite side of my door. Adam needed to leave now.
“Who was that?” Adam asked, not looking away from the game.
“The pizza guy,” I lied.
“Did he give you the breadsticks?” Shit. I didn’t think of that.
“No, he just gave me coupons.” I tried again. I was horrible at this lying thing. Adam didn’t glance away from the telly. It is amazing how well a Quidditch game can help a woman when she needs to lie to a man.
“Any good ones?” He asked. I sighed, flopping down on the couch. I wasn’t sure what would get Adam away. He had seen me at my worst. He was my brother afterall.
“Adam, I don’t feel good.” I whined in my best girly voice. He cringed a little, frowning at me.
“Aren’t you the healer? Fix yourself.” He said, turning back to his bag of chips.
“You can’t fix this, Adam! I’ve got menstrual cramps.” I complained. Adam frowned at me.
“What’s that mean?” He asked.
“It means I’m on my bloody period!” I shrieked. Adam’s eyes widened at me. He hated talk about all things womanly. He covered his ears like a small child and got to his feet quickly.
“I’m leaving!” he shouted, heading straight for the door. I felt panic rise in me. I jumped to my feet, guarding the door before he could leave it.
“Just apparate now! My landlord is peeling the halls. He’s a magic hunter, I swear.” I said quickly. Adam looked at me suspiciously, but did as I asked and apparated with a POP!
I sighed with relief. Adam was gone. That was just one less problem to deal with. Needless to say, the biggest problem was waiting for me behind my door. I regretted ordering the garlic dipping sauce. I ran my fingers through my hair but felt them meet knots that would take me hours to untangle. I slapped my cheeks a little to get some color in them. I saw that move in some movies before. I pulled open the door and James was leaning against the wall next to my door.
“Err… come in.” I said awkwardly. James pushed himself off the wall and elegantly floated into my flat. He didn’t bother looking around, but turned right to me when I shut the door.
“I have something to tell you and I’m afraid if I don’t say it right away that I’ll never say it.” James said quickly. I’ve heard this kind of thing before from him. Whenever he had been mulling over something for a long time and it was eating him away, he felt like he needed to shout it out to the world. He needed to tell someone. Why he wanted to tell me, I’ll have no idea.
“What is it?” I asked, crossing the room and sitting down on my couch. James followed me, taking a huge breath. I saw the sweat above his brow. I could practically see his brain working at 100 kilometers per minute.
“I’m not in love with Veronica!” He blurted out in one shout. I stared at him in disbelief, my eyes wide.
“A-alright-“ I started, but he shook his head.
“I haven’t been in love with her for a while. I think I'm still in love with you.” James said. He looked like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. Sadly it had been put onto mine. Bollucks.
Author's Note: Insert suspenseful music here? Well, if any of you out there are reading, please please please review! It makes an author feel ten times better about their work and would make me feel better about what I'm writing. Make it all worth it and all that nonsense. So, Vi is hating on interns, her parents want to put her on their will (maybe), and James still loves her!? What?!?!? Review please! Let me know what you think!
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