Leave Out All The Rest

The Pressure of the Moon

Leave Out All the Rest

Chapter 28: The Pressure of the Moon

POV: Emily

My Emily,

I'm sorry I have neglected to write you for more than a week now. Unfortunately this blasted illness has kept me bedridden under Healer's orders and my mother is obeying it like it's law, so that means I'm not allowed to do anything but sleep or homework. 

Illness or no illness, I have craved your company. Don't forget that.

I'll see you soon, I promise.

Lance. 

I stuffed the letter into my schoolbag as I looked up at the moon. I felt the pressure of both, pushing me down into the ground, trapping me there. Everything Scorpius had said about Lance Greyback came tumbling into my head, confusing the already messed up train of thought in there. I did not miss Lance, not in any way that could be deemed romantic; I just missed the break from reality he was. There were no appearances to keep up. I never had to say anything. I never had to be anyone.

Maybe there was something cryptic about that, but I was no one to judge.

"Oi, Taylor!" Approaching me as I now turned to gather the remaining of my belongings was Lysander Scamander. He already had a helping smile on his face as he asked, "Need some assistance there?"

The rest of Astronomy class had dispersed, hurrying back to the castle to get away from the cold, sharp wind of this bitter night. Of course I would be the last one, too caught up in my own world, and of course Lysander would be the one to linger back, trying to reel me back in to the present.

"I've got it," I said to him, "but thanks."

His blue eyes were especially bright despite the darkness overhead. "I don't think you do," he said with a tilt of his head.

"Meaning?" I returned with a raised brow as I carefully tightened the lid of my ink bottle before tossing it inside my bag. "I know it's a mess, but I'll get around to fixing it," I added a laugh, "Rose inspects our schoolbags every weekend, you know. 'An organized person makes for an organized brain' she always says."

Lysander kept his smile as he looked down at my crumbled parchment, but still said, "Everything about you is a mess. And as every day passes you lose more of yourself in that head of yours."

I froze just as I was about to secure the strap of my schoolbag.

He knows, that voice screeched in my ear, unsettling my bones. 

"At first I just thought the Wrackspruts were messing with your head, but it's you that's messing with it." The smile slowly faded from his lips. "Mum noticed it one day. She saw you talking to Mrs. Potter at the platform, the day we were coming back from holidays. She said you carried too much on your shoulders. It reminded her of Dad, right before he died."

Tell him, that voice continued, tell him the truth. Tell him what you want.

I swallowed the knot that had formed in my throat, forcing out that carefree pitch that made people look away and forget what they saw in me. "I just have one of those faces, you know? I always look upset, but I promise I'm not," I finished with another laugh.

Nice try, idiot.

"I'm a lover of life, Em," he said, his brow now raised at me. "I love being around people who are passionate about every single day, even if it hasn't gone their way, because they have dreams, because they want to make everything count. Mum says I got that from Dad. And I figured as much, seeing as he died doing what he loved."