Déjà Vu

Chapter 24

a/n

surprise! i'm not dead. it just feels like i am.

i'm really sorry that this update has taken so, so, so, long. school has been absolutely kicking my ass this year and i'm just coming out of a depressive episode, so writing hasn't really been on the front of my mind lately. i hope that I'll really get back into writing soon and provide you guys with more updates, but unfortunately, i'm not sure how long the next one will take.

i might take a break and get back to writing some more after i finish this book, but i have a feeling that this is going to be my last :(

i love you guys, enjoy the chapter :)

~ Fred ~

He cannot take it anymore. He physically cannot take it anymore. It's been 12 hours since what he is now calling "The Misunderstanding" took place, and he cannot. Take. It. Anymore. He's already heavily struggled with the knowledge that Evelyn hasn't loved him back over the past four months, that she has actively chosen someone else over him, but now that he knows that she likely hates him right about now? He wants to scratch his eyes out. He wants to rip all of his hair from his head, just to try to numb the absolute darkness that he feels taking over himself when he thinks about what he's done to her.

That's not what he really wants, though. No, all that he really wants is to see Evelyn. To hold her face between his hands and tell her that he's an idiot, that he would do anything for her. Anything to make up for what he's done. To show her just how much he loves her, and how much he always will.

Fred reaches up and runs a hand through his hair, letting out a breath filled with too many emotions to even begin to name them. He's sitting on the edge of his bed, fully dressed in his uniform and with his packed bag sitting by his feet, his foot tapping away anxiously. He hadn't been able to sleep much the night before, just tossing and turning as the sun slowly prepared to rise above the horizon, and now he's sitting here ten minutes early, just waiting to walk down to the dining hall for breakfast. He's not quite sure what to expect, is the thing. He had been ready to chase after Evelyn when he followed her into the castle the night before, but against every single cell in his body, he decided to leave her alone. He knew that she wouldn't have wanted to see him, and he knew that the best thing that he could have done–for Evelyn and for himself–was to give her the night.

So now he sits and waits. Waits as the seconds slowly pass by, the time for him to get up and go to the dining hall quickly creeping up. He has so many things that he wants to say to her, needs to say to her, but he's not sure that she'll want to hear any of it. Actually, he's pretty sure that she won't want to hear any of it. Not a word.

When he looks back to the clock again, it's already nearing 8:30, and he knows that everyone is probably already at breakfast. He takes one more deep breath before pushing himself off of the bed, a pit of nerves settling into his stomach. He can do this. He will make it up to Evelyn. She can't possibly hate him forever.

He can't look up from his feet when he walks into the dining hall, wringing his hands together as he follows the familiar path to the Gryffindor table. When he does finally raise his line of vision, it's followed by a frown when he sees that not one of the girls is sitting there. It's just George, Ron, Harry, Neville, and some other fourth year whose name he doesn't remember that's talking to Harry.

"Where are the girls?" he asks as soon as he approaches.

Ron's the first to answer, shrugging his shoulders and lazily gesturing to the Ravenclaw table. "They're eating over there today, apparently. Merlin knows why."