Working Through the Rest

The Annual Mess

Halfway through the first week, we have the annual family gathering, which of course requires everyone in the entire family to come and hang out in our garden. After last year, I fully intend to hide in the house as soon as the Quidditch starts. It is going to go wrong.

I sit near the hedge as more and more people start to arrive. There's a lot of noise and I don't feel well anyway. If I just get through the next few hours, well I don't know what the incentive is. But it'll be okay.

"Hey."

I look up as Teddy approaches, smiling at me, and I try to smile back instead of groaning and turning.
"Can I sit?"
"Yeah," I nod.
"Thanks."

He sits down next to me and, for a moment, we both watch the mounting chaos in front of us. He laughs as several younger cousins chase each other through the flower beds, and I look at him.
"How are you doing?" he asks.
"Kinda shit," I mutter. "You?"
"I'm doing okay. Do you want to talk?"
"Not with this many people around."

I feel bad for keeping silent. I used to talk to Teddy whenever I needed to get something out. He always listened. I always felt completely comfortable talking to him. And now I can't even do that.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Teddy says softly. "I get it. Talking about it with so many people around – it sucks sometimes."
"Thanks," I smile.
"If you need someone to rant to," he says quietly, "my door is always open."
"I may need that," I mutter, half-bitter. "So, are you playing later?"
"At Quidditch? Nah. They put me on commentary."
"I look forward to it," I find the energy to smile.

Teddy grins back and we chat for a bit longer about a few different topics. I try not to derail the conversation when I get uncomfortable, but I'm not particularly successful. Teddy says it's okay. He doesn't mind. I love my family. In moderation.

About an hour later, the Quidditch starts. I'm a little more at ease, though that departs a little as Teddy goes to take up his commentary post. It'll be fine. Family Quidditch. Family-friendly Quidditch. I mean, I know Potters verses Weasleys isn't a great idea, simply because of how much mum, Lily, dad and James are outnumbered, but they are all brilliant players, even if Lily refuses to go near a broom when we're at school.

The game is, somewhat predictably, near-carnage, and I have to stop myself from watching, even if I've decided not to go back to the house. I know that all of our Quidditch games are a little insane, but I really don't want to see it. I don't want anyone to get hurt.

I shouldn't worry. It's all controlled on some level. Any injury won't be serious. We're wizards – we could heal it. But still, I'm unnecessarily nervous. It's stupid. It's all stupid.

It's stupid that I can't even attend a fucking family gathering without feeling like all anxiety in my mind has gone through the fucking roof. It's stupid that I can't stand the noise. It's stupid that I'm crying myself to sleep because I can't spend a day without Scorpius anymore. It's stupid–

James screams.

And the noise stops.

For a moment, the noise stops.

And in that moment, my mind snaps and I'm back. It's dark. We're on the Pitch again. Except it isn't Scorpius screaming. It's James. It's James begging and pleading and crying. And then it's mum. And Lily. And Rose. And–

I collapse, my knees hitting the floor as I struggle for air. I can't breathe. I can't see. I can't hear anything except the screams echoing in my ears. And it's over. We're going to die. Because of me.

I've killed Craig.

I've killed Scorpius.

And I'm going to end up killing James.

Help me. Please. Someone. Please someone help me.

I know I don't deserve it. I know I deserve to be alone. I know I deserve to die because I failed everything that anyone ever threw at me. But I need help. Please. Someone. Anyone. Anyone.

"Albus."

That isn't a scream.

"Albus, can you hear me?"
"Don't hurt him," I sob. "Please...please! Help him."
"James is fine, Albus. James is fine. He got hit by a bludger."
"No. Delphi...Delphi..."
"She's gone, Albus. She's not here."
"James! She's got James!"

They keep talking but I don't hear them anymore. It's only screams that fill my head, my entire existence. And I can't fight it. I can't stop it.

An arm loops itself around me, and I don't fight them either, as they pull me to my feet and walk me somewhere. I don't know where we go. I don't care.

I can't breathe. I still can't breathe and it hurts. Everything is spinning. The world is going to collide with something. And everyone will die. Because of me. Because I'm too weak to fight back.
"Albus. Albus. I'm going to put something on your head. Okay?"

*

And then everything is clear. The screaming is gone, replaced by some music that Lily used to play at ungodly hours. I force myself to listen, trying to time my breathing now that it's starting to return properly.

I open my eyes slowly, looking around at where I am – Lily's bedroom. With Lily and Teddy. There are two strange cushioned discs over my ears, and a wire that leads to Lily's record player. I start to remove them, and then I stop. I don't want the screaming to return. I feel like it will if I take the discs away.

I sit like this for a few minutes, until my heart stops pounding in my chest, and then I pull the discs off. The music stops.
"How are you feeling?" Lily asks.
"Better," I mumble. "Tired. But I can breathe. Thank – thank you."

Silence.

"Is James okay?"
"James is fine," Teddy nods. "He got his by a bludger, but he's fine."
"Good," I say. "That's – that's good."
"Maybe we shouldn't play Quidditch next year," Lily mutters.
"Probably a good idea," I nod.
"Probably."