Break Me || Harry Potter

Chapter 70 - Not What I Wanted

We had all gathered in the tiny and filthy dining room of number 12 Grimmauld Place, the entire Weasley Family, minus Percy and Bill; Hermione, Harry and I; and Moody, Sirius, Remus, Gazzy and Tonks. It was a crowded disaster. I was squeezed between Ron and Fred, and barely had any room to move my elbows to eat. We had arrived yesterday, Gazzy immediately jumping into my arms when I saw him.

Fred and George were, as usual, talking about their jokes and pranks, and Ron, who was deeply immersed in his food, was trying to pay attention to what Hermione was saying. Gazzy was talking to Remus and Tonks, showing them the small tricks he had learned how to do. I looked around, and saw the red headed family, all sitting together, and laughing and having fun. Together. Happy. Healthy. Alive. Melancholy swam inside of me as I remembered my family for the first time in a long time.

My mother, singing Christmas carols and dancing around in reindeer socks and Santa hats. My father, wearing ugly sweaters out in public to embarrass me, and making my brother and me warm hot chocolate and sneaking us extra marshmallows when mum wasn't looking. My brother, my wonderful, wonderful brother. He would sing along with my mom, pick me up and swing me around as he bellowed out the lyrics to all my favorite songs (horribly of course). Us as a happy, healthy, wonderful family, all just enjoying each other's company. My ears stopped working and all I started to hear was static.

I suddenly jumped up and stormed out of the dining room, earning me a few odd looks from the adults. I couldn't keep it together. The memories of mine and my brother's hot chocolate mustaches, or of my dad tickling my toes in their fuzzy socks, or my mother handing me lovely wrapped presents, kept flashing through my head.

Running up the stairs two at a time, I headed up as far as I could, to the attic of 12 Grimmauld Place. The only thing I heard was a high tea kettle screaming in my ears as I threw the door to the widow's walk open, and silently crept onto the wooden balcony. It was frigid cold, but nothing could break into the stone cage I had trapped myself in. I grit my teeth and clenched my hands into tight fists as I tried to push the heart-aching memories of my family out of my mind, but I just couldn't. Seeing the Weasley's and everyone all together had pulled a string in me. My magic flared.

I didn't notice footsteps coming up the stairs to the attic until someone was standing next to me. I didn't need to look to know it was Harry; his awkward posture gave it away. But that didn't make me feel any better. Harry was a long gone friend. I didn't give a shit about him anymore.

I scowled to myself as I took in Harry's presence. He was wearing his own emerald green Weasley sweater, and a pair of dark grey jeans. I rolled my eyes, inwardly of course. I wanted to punch him – wanted to feel the crunch of bone beneath my knuckles. But something held me back.

Harry was so similar to me - in personality and personal experience both. We had both lost our families to Voldemort and we were both marked as his sworn enemies. We knew each other better than the backs of our own hands. Or at least we thought we did. But that was before last year. That was before this year. Now things were different.

"Saige? You okay?" he asked in a small, quiet voice. I turned away from him, my anger flaring. He had no right to be talking to me – no right to ask whether or not I was okay. I hated him for it.

"I'm fine." I spat, clenching my fists and trying to conquer the loud humming in my ears. I saw Harry take a small step back out of my peripheral vision, but he didn't leave. I was about to tell him to, when I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. This set me off. I tried to swat his hand away, but he griped my shoulder hard. "Harry, honestly, you're really pushing your luck with me," I said, trying to get the message across that I wasn't really in the mood for this. For him. Harry still didn't budge.

"No Saige, I can tell very clearly that you are anything but fine. You angry. I can see you hands, their pulsing." He reached over and took hold of my hand, turning it over to look at the bright lines of magic underneath my skin. I growled at him and tore my hand away.

"You have no right to talk to me – not after you hurt him," I whispered deadly calm, looking Harry dead in the eyes. He faltered.

"You miss them, don't you?" He said. I narrowed my eyes. "I understand." I knew he was trying to comfort me, but it wasn't working. He was just trying to change the subject. I set my jaw.

"No you don't understand. You don't understand at all!" I said, raising my voice. Harry took a step back but grabbed my hand. He opened his mouth but I threw my hands into the air in fists and cut him off. "You don't understand because you didn't know them! You don't remember what they were like or how they acted or how much they provided for you! You can't even remember your parents! You didn't get put through hell and tortured. You weren't controlled and forced to watch your own hands kill countless people! You don't understand at all Harry. Don't try to feel sympathetic. Don't try to understand when you are part of the reason I can barely stand myself," I spat at him, my voice deadly low.

Harry opened his mouth in horror, and then set his jaw. He grabbed my shoulder and threw me against the wall of the house. My back ached. I held my ground though, and looked him straight in the eyes.

"Maybe I didn't know my parents, but I care about you. I don't want you to go around crying on rooftops. That leads to suicide. And I don't know what I would do if you died." He said, keeping me pinned against the wall. I wanted to point out that I was not crying, but I didn't say anything. I just narrowed my eyes and glared at him.

"I don't give a shit about you anymore Harry, so you can forget about protecting me. I can handle myself, thank you very much. And besides, why do you care if I die? It would do the world a lot of good if I did," I growled, venom dripping off my words. Harry looked absolutely horrified.

"Because you are my friend. And I'm sorry that you hate me for hurting that ferret, but he deserved it. If he hadn't talked to you earlier, you would be fine. He is using you. Saige, listen to me, he will turn on you," he said, his voice getting dangerously low. Barely above a whisper. I held my withering glare.

"Draco is my friend, I know him better than I know myself. He will not turn on me. Harry, you can't just assume that of people. You can't just assume Draco's bad because of what his father did. Harry, listen. I wouldn't be alive if not for him." I said, trying to convince Harry of the truth. He pulled back slightly and looked at me with widened eyes.

"You're wrong. You would've found a way. " He whispered. I rolled my eyes.

"No Harry, I wouldn't have. I couldn't. I was being tortured in my own mind – the only reason I could break away was because I saw him. It was because I saw how hopeless he looked – how hopeless the world was with me on his side." I said, glaring at Harry.

"Saige-" Harry started, but I shoved him back.

"No. Don't give me that 'oh Saige' bullshit. Not when you owe me. Not when you hurt him. If you really think that about Draco then so be it- but just know..." I paused, trying to emphasize my point. "If you try to hurt him, you might as well be hurting me." I whispered. My eyes were on fire, my mind in a fit of fury. All of my instincts told me to light the boy in front of me on fire and watch him burn.

But then Harry did something I never though he would do. He swooped down and shut me up by kissing me. His lips were hot against mine, but I could do nothing but let my eyes grow wide in shock. I didn't know what to do. I stayed still as Harry pulled back and looked at me. My mind was numb.

I let my anger flare as Harry leaned in and pressed our foreheads together. He whispered things quietly, like "it will be okay," or "we can get through this". Then I broke out of my trance.

"What the hell was that," I whispered, horrified. I growled and shoved Harry back, throwing him against the railing of the widow's walk. I stalked off, holding my head in between my hands as I fought the raging battle inside my mind. My veins glowed.

"Saige-" Harry grabbed my wrist and twisted it up. My reflexes kicked in and two seconds later I was pinning Harry against the wall where I had just been. Harry's breathing was quick. I let my mind take over as a killing calm spread over me.

"Like I said before," I said, my face just inches from his. Harry's eyes were filled with hurt. "Go to hell," I spat, then slammed my fist into Harry's face. Blood erupted, but I was already walking back inside.