things i'll never say ~ l.l.p.

thirteen - shut

I didn't go to Susan Bones' funeral.

I wanted to. Really, I did. But after that day in the hallway outside the head's office, I hadn't spoken to Mason. He packed up his things and left Hogwarts that night, not sparing a goodbye for me, who had betrayed him. And in the days following, I heard nothing except from my own mother, who was so persistent in inquiring about my correspondence with him that I was forced to confess our row to her in its entirety.

She told me to write to him. That he wouldn't stay angry. That he would want a friend.

I wrote a long, pleading apology. He didn't write back. When the day of the funeral came, students were allowed to leave school to attend. Charlie went, along with some other boys in our year. So did the entirety of Hufflepuff house. I stayed in my dorm all day. Autumn stayed with me.

I didn't tell Autumn what happened in detail; simply that I had fought with him. She didn't ask any intrusive questions, for which I was grateful. I sat on my bed, wrapped in a blanket, and wondered about Mason. Autumn did homework.

The next day, I wrote to him again. I said, I'm sorry I lied to you. Please write back. I just want to know that you're okay. Tell me when you're coming back.

No response. I heard through my mum three days later that he was moving in with his grandparents. To America. Permanently.

I wrote a third time. When are you leaving? Can I see you before you go?

The next letter from Mum informed me that he was long gone. He never said goodbye. That day in the hallway was the last time I saw him, until three and a half years later, when he stood looking at me in Flourish and Blotts, unaware of how he was about to turn my world upside-down.

---

"Mason's coming back to Hogwarts."

I stared at Charlie for a long moment, then glanced at Mason. He was still staring at me. He shifted on his feet, and met my gaze. I looked away.

"Oh," I said, directing my words to Charlie. "That's, um... certainly a surprise."

Charlie draped his arm over Mason's shoulder. "Yeah, I was thrilled when I heard. Dom won't be happy, though... This guy's become quite a talented keeper. She won't be able to get a single score in... our team is doomed."

Mason swatted Charlie away, chuckling awkwardly. "You overestimate my abilities."

Oh. His voice was different. I had been expecting the same light, cheerful one I had always known him to have, but this was deep and dry, and he'd developed a slight American accent. It was the same personality in a different tone.

As I looked at him, I felt the resentment over the years of silence start to slip away- but, no. I wasn't going to let it go. Why should I? What had he done to deserve forgiveness? He hadn't even asked for it. If I opened my heart, soon enough he would pack up and leave, and I would be left feeling bad about myself all over again. That was the last thing I wanted.

I tried to smile, but it may have come out as a grimace. "Don't bet against yourself, Charlie. Mason isn't quite the exemplary person he's cracked up to be."

Mason looked at me, hurt flickering across his face. He clearly hadn't expected that. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then said, "Perhaps not, but at least I've never lied about what I am."

It was like a slap in the face. I took a physical step back, and stared at him, stunned by the sharp bitterness of his words. The Mason I knew didn't know the meaning of the word bitter. But then again, I supposed this boy standing in front of me was not the Mason I knew.

Charlie glanced back and fourth between us, as if noticing the tension for the first time. Then he said, "Hey, um, I've got to go pick something up for Allison... I'll leave you two to catch up, alright?" He looked at Mason. "Meet me outside Fortescue's in ten minutes or so?" Mason nodded, although I could tell he wasn't really listening. He was too busy pointedly not looking at me. But when Charlie had departed, he did look at me. Very directly. There was something surprisingly like regret in his expression.

I dropped my head. I didn't want to see those warm, chocolatey eyes. It would be far too easy for them to melt my heart of ice.

"Lily..." Mason sighed. His new voice caught me off guard once again. "It's good to see you."

I avoided his gaze. "Is it?"

"Yes."

I chewed on my lip and didn't respond.

He said, "You stopped writing to me."

I said, "You never wrote back." I finally looked up at him.

Mason ran a hand through his short, dark hair. "Did you expect me to?"

"Did you expect me to keep writing when you didn't?"

His gaze dropped to the floor. "I just... you gave up sooner than I expected you to."

I laughed softly. Sadly. "What did you want me to do? Keep writing letters for as long as it took to get your attention? For three and a half years?"

"Lily, I..."

I shook my head. "No. Whatever you're going to say, I don't want to hear it. You don't get to come back now and be sorry, after years of nothing."

Mason's face fell. "But..."

"No." I crossed my arms, folding the Charms book against my chest. "That's not a challenge. It's a fact." I started to turn away, pausing only long enough to say, "I'll see you at school, Mason." Then I left, before he could say anything else.

Well. That went quite wonderfully.

Part of me wondered what I thought I was doing. This was Mason. Mason, my childhood best friend. But another part reminded me that he wasn't that person anymore. This was Mason. Mason, who had shut me out after his mum died. Who had moved away without saying goodbye. Whose long silence had chipped away at my heart, breaking it one little piece at a time.

Who did he think he was, coming back after more than three years, wanting to talk to me like everything was fine? Did he really think things could be the same? Did he really think he deserved for things to be the same?

Well, it didn't matter what he thought. Our friendship was no more. That door was shut; his own hand had closed it. And I was done letting that distance hurt me.