Bloom Again /James Potter/ ❁book 2❁

❁Chapter 7❁

Chapter 7

The school was getting more and more excited the closer it got to Halloween. The festivities throughout the school were shared with all students and Bea, no matter how she felt, liked Halloween. She loved autumn, and October didn't hold back when the trees shed and decorated the ground with leaves of yellow and dark reds and orange too, and crunching on the leaves would always be fun to Bea.

She found Bertie, actually, she was stalking Bertie as he sat alone reading in the courtyard wrapped up in many jackets and a scarf around his neck-shielding him from the nippy air. She really hoped no one would see her, she had obtained the help of Beau who brought it upon himself to bring binoculars but she didn't need them, he was just being his usual self.

"This usually leads to you talking to him," Beau nudged her but she didn't move, she was just watching him and the frown on his face and the bags under his eyes and it wasn't Bertie - well, it was, but it wasn't her Bertie. He was sad and she knew why and it broke her heart because she didn't need to be around him to make him sad, her friends could forget their pain when she wasn't there as a constant reminder.

But it was different, Bertie was different.

"He'll walk away," she mumbled, eyebrows furrowed and a frown evidently on her lips. She hated what she looked like in the autumn weather, it wasn't her, and her style of clothes hadn't been her for so long.

She loved her dresses and her tights for autumn and the bright colours she could style herself in but she hadn't been bright in the longest time, and any signs of clothes she used to wear didn't don her body, she was in the darkest of colours and a dress didn't sit on her, just trousers she didn't care for.

The only time she felt like her old self-was when she painted which was highly unusual since she had never picked up a brush until a month ago. Beau said she was naturally gifted at it, and droned on and on about in times of tragedy some people are drawn to what they are good at, and she was good at painting it seemed.

But she wasn't really, and he was just trying to make her feel better, she couldn't paint masterpieces - or something worthy of the walls in Hogwarts but that didn't stop her, she enjoyed it more than her pain, and she needed the escape that it gave her.

She liked the mess of painting, and the fact that although she couldn't express the colours of brightness on herself, she still could on a canvas and no matter if it was a mess or horrible or bad, it was something she did, and she felt something with every finished piece and that's all she wanted.

She didn't want to be a hollow body anymore, she wanted to feel again and bask in her emotions and painting helped her do that for her.

"If he is as good as you say he is then he won't," Beau nudged her slightly, and she didn't flinch but she glared at him and he replied with a sheepish smile, "I'll come with you."

"It's alright," she grumbled, pushing herself up from the ground and handing him her bag to keep safe. She climbed over the bush the two were hiding behind, almost falling flat on her face and Beau had to do everything in order not to laugh.

That didn't stop her from flipping him off.

Bertie hadn't noticed her walking over to him and she wished he had just so she didn't need to speak, to say anything. She was terribly scared of him walking away, she didn't need that kind of hurt over the pain she already felt.

"We had our first date around this time last year," her voice was quiet but heard and Bertie froze at the sound of it. Violet kept him up to date on Bea, telling him everything she knew but not once did Violet tell him that she was talking.