CHRYSALIS - FRED WEASLEY

CHAPTER 14

Lillie is sitting on a long stone bench in the clock tower courtyard. She sits there with her elbows at her knees, leaning forward with her hands tucked under her chin. If one stumbled upon her, they would think she was praying; her reverent pose, the long, pew-like seat, her closed eyes. She supposes, in a way, she is.

Her leg bounces, the taps of her shoe filling the silence between each resounding tick of the giant clock above her. The sounds fill the hallway, a symphony of percussion created in the fermata. She is attempting to steady her breathing, timing her inhales and exhales to the ticks of time passing. She's frustrated with herself; she thought she mastered breath control long ago in New Mexico. She knows it's him that's making her anxious. The mere thought of him throws her off her rhythm, scrambling her thoughts and breaking her concentration, which she thought had been honed to perfection. She sighs and sits up straight once she's regained a semblance of control over her racing heart, wiping her palms on her jeans and stretching her legs out in front of her, flexing her ankles idly.

She looks around the courtyard, and her eyes fall on the old tree that sits in the middle. She gets up and walks to it, sitting on the bench that wraps around it. She runs her hand across the weathered wood, feeling its fine grooves and tracing her finger over a carving of a heart, singed into the wood by a wand. She looks up; a branch of wisteria is sprouting rapidly over her head, extending in an arc that allows for the bunches of flowers to hang over her like a garland. She closes her eyes and inhales, trying to control her emotions.

"Do you remember our first date?" Charlie says, twirling a strand of her hair in his fingers. They lay in a giant, canopied bed in one of the many guest rooms at Malfoy Manor. No one knows that Lillie is here.

"What, Puttifoot's?" Lillie replies, furrowing her eyebrows.

"No. Well, I guess it wasn't a real date," he says, "When we smoked with that Weasley git."

Lillie looks away, bothered by the way he talks about Fred. She doesn't admonish him, though, and he doesn't notice her discomfort.

"Do you remember when we sat under the tree, waiting for him? And I told you I liked you?"

She nods, urging him to continue. She hasn't looked up from where she's tugging on a loose thread in the bedspread.

"Do you remember what flower bloomed in front of us?" he asks tenderly.

She looks up, "Yeah. A wisteria. Those are my favorite."

"I knew that, because I heard you say it one day in potions. So before I asked you to hang out, I bewitched the tree."

"You what?" Lillie says, her eyes widening.

"I bewitched the tree to grow wisteria when you sat under it," he says, smiling. He was obviously happy with himself, for thinking of such a romantic gesture. 

Lillie presses the heels of her hands into her eyes and shakes her head, attempting to clear the memory away. She did so much work with her healers in New Mexico to avoid these types of reminiscent memories. Healing herself from his abuses would never happen if she kept romanticizing the past. She gets up from the bench and walks around the courtyard, forcing herself to drag up a less pleasant memory.

Charlie is startled by the cracking pop, signalling Lillie's apparition into the room. He's bent over a book, reading frantically.

"Fuck, Lillie. I told you to tell me before you come over."

"I'm sorry," Lillie says lightly, walking over to his desk, "I just wanted to see you." She leans down to kiss him on the cheek; he jerks his head away, shrugging her arm off his hunched shoulders. She raises her eyebrows at his coldness and walks toward the bed, sitting at the foot of it. "So," she attempts again, "How are you?"