Bloom Again /James Potter/ ❁book 2❁

❁Chapter 24❁

Chapter 24

"Beau I need to talk to you," Bea said suddenly, a frown on her lips.

A day, he thought to himself, a bad day.

"What's wrong, Bea?" he stood, bidding a goodbye to their friends who merely shrugged with their encouraging smiles that Bea just couldn't handle. She had already pushed James off her that morning when he went to kiss her with a smile on his lips, only to be matched with a frown and silence.

So, he squeezed her hand as softly as he could to show that it wasn't a big deal, she was just sad and she squeezed back. She hated the feeling, the feeling of pain, the anger that coursed through her at what happened because she didn't get justice and that was what frustrated her the most.

That the auror's on her case hardly tried, they said he was gone and that he wouldn't bother her again and that was it, but to her, that wasn't it.

She didn't reply to his question and instead turned on her heel to walk out of the great hall, and he walked behind her. He knew she was particularly pissed because she was having a bad day, it was making her even angrier because she thought her days would be good and alright, maybe not too bad but cope-able.

But this was hardly cope-able, all she wanted to do was cry and scream and maybe...harm a few people but she wasn't going to do that - obviously - she just wanted to disappear, but she also wanted to help.

She wanted to help people like her.

"You painted more flowers," Beau commented as they entered the gallery. He saw some had bloomed - regardless of her bad day they still bloomed, showing proudly the vibrant colours that she had painted in detail.

Bees from the hive near the door had started to float around the walls too, nestling into the very few flowers that had bloomed on the walls and he smiled at the creativity she had, knowing that regardless of not knowing her last year - painting was her favourite thing.

Or well, one of her favourite things.

She plopped herself onto one of the desks, sitting crossed legged in her painting dungarees that she really needed a new pair of, though she didn't think the ones she had on were that bad, the denim under the many streaks of paint just didn't look like it was there.

"You are the only person who understands what I'm going through," she whispered, "because you have been through it. I'm not asking you to tell me what happened because if someone made me relive what happened to me I think all of these flowers would close back up again...I can't do it, and I don't want to do it, so I'd never ask you to put yourself through that.

But I need you to know I'm here, because I feel so...fucking useless, and I don't want you to tell me I'm not even if you think so because it won't help but I can listen - it's all I've been doing since September is just listening!"

"I didn't want to tell you because reliving what I went through could bring back what you went through, Bea. So, I will tell you, I'll tell you everything - and more. I'll tell you of what happened to me that night, what I went through to put us in the same boat, and I'll tell you how I got into that boat.

I'll tell you about my shitty family, as well...it's not linked to what happened to me, maybe it is a bit actually, but I'll tell you it all.

But not right now." He shook his head, "I'm not telling you that now because you're happy...sometimes. You haven't healed fully but when you do, when you have healed and you're better then you'll know."

She nodded silently, bringing out her wand from the back pocket of her dungarees and aiming it at a desk she had dragged into the middle of the room, "it's not all I wanted to talk to you about...there's more, but I want you to do something for me."