"My heart is so tired." - Mark Zuzak, The Book Theif
The sharp sound of paper crumpling filled the morning air. James lifted his eyes to see Lily Evans reducing the Daily Prophet to a sad, paper ball. All he could make out of the headline was MURDER; that was enough, he understood.
"You okay, Lily?" Remus asked over his cup of steaming coffee, nodding at the wrinkled paper on the table.
She took a deep breath as if she were seriously considering her answer. "I'm just tired."
Remus sipped his coffee quietly, waiting for her to elaborate, and Sirius' attention was shifted to the redhead.
"Tired of the death," she continued. "Tired of the fear. Tired of being so anxious that I'm going to read a name that I know. Just...tired."
Remus nodded. "I get that, and I'm sorry that it's worse for you, being muggle born and all."
"Yeah," Sirius nodded through his bite of toast. "Fuck those muggle borns, just don't be one. Problem solved."
Remus knew he was only trying to lighten the mood and get a laugh out of Lily, which it did, but he still rolled his eyes at the comment.
"Where's Charlie?" Marlene asked, changing the subject, as she sipped her pumpkin juice.
James shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "Yes, Prongs?" Sirius asked with an arch of his eyebrow.
"She's been weird lately," James mumbled, moving the eggs on his plate around with his fork.
Remus quirked an eyebrow. "I've noticed. She's gone kind of quiet."
"When did it start?" Peter inquired.
James scrunched up his face, going deep into thought. "New Years-ish?"
Sirius snorted. "What'd you do?"
"I didn't do anything!" James' words flew from his lips in a buzz.
Lily gave him a look. "James."
"I didn't!" He insisted.
"We love you, dude," Marlene said taking a bite of her toast. "But, there's every chance you did do something."
"You can all fuck off," he muttered bitterly.
"Where are you going?" Peter asked with a mouthful of cereal, as James got to his feet.
James threw them all an annoyed look over his shoulder. "To find my girlfriend."
Two floors up Charlotte Riggs was laid across a bench tucked away in a far corner of the Hogwarts library. She flipped through the pages of a book she had found at a muggle bookstore but was too distracted to keep her mind trained on the lines of the paper and threw it to the side in disgust.
She covered her face with her hands, suppressing the urge to scream. The tips of her fingers dug into her skin in her madness. Tears began to sting her eyes, and it made her want to scream even more. She didn't figure Madam Pince would appreciate that too much.
Charlie had been living in turmoil for the better part of three weeks. She had returned home after her New Years at the Potter's. She hadn't quite known had to act around any of her friends after her return to Hogwarts; so, she had begun to slip into her old ways of just avoiding people all together. She felt alone.
She wanted more than anything to spill her guts within the pages of her journal, but every time she went to write, no words could convey what was going on within her. It made her feel even worse because when she had nobody to talk to at least she had the parchment pages of her worn out book. But, right now, she had nothing to say.
As she continued to spiral within the depths of her own mind, James Potter entered the library. He looked through each row of books, eyeing the tables, looking for her. He finally came across the study benches, and he saw her. She was tucked in the corner, laid across a bench, her hands over her face. His heart sank; something was wrong.
He walked towards her, his limbs feeling strangely heavy. He nudged her knee with his own. She gasped loudly and shot up straight, griping the desk.
"What the fuck?" She demanded, her breathing accelerated.
"I'm sorry," he responded, unable to hide his amused grin.
Madam Pince arrived from beyond the stacks of books. "Out!" She demanded sharply, pointing her finger towards the exit.
Charlie rolled her eyes, but she grabbed her bag and book and stomped out of the library with James hot on her heals.
"Can we talk?" James asked when they arrived outside of the library.
Charlie's heart began to race. "Why?"
"I think you know why," he responded, eyes never leaving her.
She averted her eyes and walked into the nearest classroom, tugging nervously on her hair. She leaned against the teacher's desk as James closed the door. He kept his head down as he walked to stand in front of her. He kept a distance from her, and even though it was a small gap, it felt like an infinite amount of space.
It remained quiet for some time; neither knew what to say and was hoping the other one would start the conversation. When a significant amount of time passed, James sighed.
"What's going on, Charlie?" He finally asked.
She swallowed, still not knowing what she was going to say to him. "I'm not sure, James."
James huffed. "Well, that's not fair. You've been acting super distant lately, and I've been pretty patient, but you can't keep me in the dark like this."
She nodded, feeling the sting of tears again. "Do you still have feelings for Lily?" The words just came out, and whether she wanted to talk about it or not, it was on the table now. There was no going back.
The blood left his face, and he stood up a little straighter. He wasn't sure what he was expecting from her, but this– this wasn't it. His body prickled with cold. "What?" he asked weakly.
"I," she cleared her throat, chin trembling. "I see the way you look at her. I don't think you look at me like that, James."
And, Charlie had. After what she had heard Lily say, she observed the two. She knew it was over when she saw the look in his eyes when Lily laughed, when she looked at him, anytime she was near him really. And, even though James didn't notice, Charlie saw the way Lily looked at him too.
James' knees felt weak. His heart hammered against his ribs, and he wanted to be anywhere but here.
"Where is this coming from?" He whispered. His insides turned hollow, and he wondered if this is what it felt like to be falling down a very long hole.
She blinked, and the first tear began to make its path down her cheek. "That's not an answer, James."
James' throat became sandpaper as he swallowed. "Charlie," he whispered. "I want to be with you."
She crossed her arms, hugging her middle tightly, trying to keep herself from falling to pieces. "If Lily came up to you right now and said she had feelings for you, what would you do? Who would you choose?"
"I," he started, but he stopped short. He didn't have an answer.
Charlie let out a humorless laugh. "You love her, don't you?"
"Charlie."
"You like me, I know you do," she continued as if he hadn't spoken, looking at him with shining eyes. "This is the longest relationship you've ever had, and I know you wouldn't risk our friendship if you didn't have true feelings for me."
"Charlie."
"I was almost enough, wasn't I?" Her voice broke.
"Charlie," a tear fell from his hazel eyes.
"You're too important to me," she continued, her voice quiet, as she attempted to hide the pain in her tone. "I need you in my life, whether it's as a boyfriend or just a friend. We've already been dating for a few months, and I'm scared if it goes on any longer we won't be able to go back to being just friends."
"Charlie, what are you doing?"
She sniffed. "I think you know what I'm doing."
"Don't," he whispered, the cracks in his facade beginning to show.
"You want to be with Lily," she whispered, and it hurt her.
Charlie could feel it in her chest. Heartbreak was something you heard about from the time you're a small child, but it's not until you experience it for the first time that you realize that's what it's called. Nobody can explain to you how it feels. Like there's a giant pressure in your chest that is overwhelming enough to suffocate you. Like your heart actually, physically hurts. She had once read in a book heartbreak being described as when the butterflies die; that book was right.
James closed his eyes. "She doesn't want to be with me."
He cursed himself for that being his response. He wanted to tell her that he didn't care about Lily Evans anymore. He wanted to tell her that it was only her that he cared about. He wanted to take her in his arms and reassure her that this wasn't an issue. But, he wasn't a liar, and as soon as Charlie mentioned Lily, he could feel it inside of him– those damn feelings for the redhead.
"I deserve to be more than second best, James."
More tears fell from his eyes. She's right, he thought. "You do, and I promise, I'm getting over her."
She smiled, and it hurt him to see the pain burrowed in her eyes. It hurt him to see how much she was trying not to hurt him.
"No, you're not, James. You want to be over her, but you're not. I don't think you ever will be. Maybe, you two are meant to be together."
"Charlie, don't." His hazel eyes gleamed as he stared at his girlfriend. A lot of emotions bounced around in his head, and he had never felt this way before. And, the more that he hurt her, the more angry he became at himself.
"I won't stand between the two of you," she whispered. "If she's what you want. I want to be able to go back to being friends because I need you around."
"Don't do this, Charlie," he whispered. "I'll get better." Right now, Lily Evans was a disease that had been infecting him for years, and he would be cured. He would get better.
She smiled again and stepped forward, closing the space in between them. She placed her hand against his wet cheek and felt more of his tears pool against her skin.
"I think I may have loved you, James. But, I can't make you happy enough, and I care about the both of you too much to stand in the way."
"I don't understand why you think she likes me that way," he sounded desperate as he placed his hand over hers.
She opened her mouth to tell him. To tell him everything she heard that night. To make all of his dreams come true. But, she couldn't. It wasn't her story to tell.
She pressed her lips to his softly. He gripped her shirt in his hand, hoping this meant that they could move passed this.
"I'm sorry, James," she whispered once she pulled away. "I can't. We're done."
She took a step back and made no attempt to hide the tears as they made their way down her red cheeks. "I'm sorry," she said again.
Why does this hurt so much? She thought to herself. I'm breaking up with him; it shouldn't hurt like this.
"Charlie," he whispered, tears staining his own cheeks. "Don't do this. Please."
"Goodbye, James," she said, forcing herself to turn away from him. She couldn't bear to look at his heartbroken face any longer. She exited the room in a hurry, her chest feeling as if it would cave in on itself.
As soon as she was out the door, she was running. She received concerned looks as she sped down the corridors with tears streaming down her face. She continued on, hurting too much to care. She made her way to Gryffindor tower, to sanctuary.
When she entered her room, she noticed her bedside table was open to reveal the several polaroid pictures she had taken since she had been gifted the camera at Christmas. On top of the pile was one of her and James, he was chasing her through the snow, and they were both laughing.
Charlie slammed the drawer shut and face-planted onto her bed. Her sobs were muffled by the pillow, and she wanted nothing more than to stay here forever. To sink into her bed sheets and never come up. Never to face the outside world again.
Downstairs, James stood where she left him. He felt empty and confused and hurt. He continued to have tears stream down his face, and his nose began to run. It took a lot to make him cry this much. He had known he liked Charlie, but now, with her absence, he realized just how much he had cared for her.
He lowered himself to the floor, staring at the stone wall. He didn't understand how they had gotten here. He had just wanted to talk to her, to see what was bothering her, to comfort her. He had never imagined that they would end up breaking up. How did we get here? He thought to himself. I don't understand.
James leaned back until his back was flat against the cold stone floor. He stared up at the blurry ceiling wondering where Charlie had run off too and if she felt as alone as he did.