give her love » james potter

17

I had gone to sleep late last night. My mind filled with thoughts of a secret life Siobhan had led, a life no one was aware of, then of all the weight, she had carried on her shoulders for the past months. Which caused me to sleep in the next morning.

I'm getting ready to go to breakfast when I see it.

A boy, younger than me, probably in his first or second year, crying. He was sitting on the floor, curled up into a small ball almost, hiding his face in his knees.

Some part of me, the horrible part, told me it wasn't my business and I should leave. But then the good part of me, the part of me that's a Hufflepuff, drags my body towards the boy. It makes me sit down beside him and ask, "Is something wrong?"

He looks up, his face a little red and wet. "You're Angelina."

"Yeah," I mumble, seeing recognition flash over his face. "But, you didn't answer my question."

"Your family got murdered."

I flinch, hating the word. Murder just makes it all sound so real, so scary, so final. But I know he doesn't mean it badly, so I shrug. "I guess so."

He finally loosens up a little. "My parents work in the ministry," he says quietly, "yesterday, a professor talked to me and brother, about how they were killed by some death eaters. How it was a big attack. That there are lots of other kids who's parents were injured or killed, too."

He starts to cry again. He looks so tiny, so young, and it makes so sad. The thought of losing your parents at such a young age. How he's barely gotten to spend any time with them. At least I had gotten seventeen years.

I wrap him in a hug, and he cries a bit harder, so tighten my hands around. I don't say things like, it's going to be okay or anything. I just hold him, trying to make him feel a bit safer, the way I wish someone had done for me.

"Does it getter better," he asks me.

I haven't really thought of it much, but I think about how I felt in October and how I feel now. "I'm still sad, but," I pause, trying to figure out how to word it, "the sadness just kind of becomes a part of you. Once and a while it's like really bad, I miss them so much, that I can't even get out of my bed. So I choose to take the day off, to let myself get better emotionally. It's kind of like spraining your ankle, have you ever sprained one?" He nods his head. "You have to nurse it back to health. Whether that means staying in bed to not use it too much, or going to a doctor. And when it feels better, that pain still lingers when you run too fast or jump. Even after months have passed, it'll never feel the same as it did before."

My words don't really make much sense to me. I don't even know what's come out of my mouth, but he's breathing normally again, and his tears have stopped. So I continue.

"Yeah, it gets better. It takes time though, so don't rush it," I say, looking at back at him, trying to give a reassuring smile. "There's no set date on when you're supposed to suddenly go back to how you were before. You probably won't, things like this change you, sometimes for the worse. But, you seem like a good kid. So, here's something for you, I believe in you. I believe that no matter how hard the next few weeks or months or even years might be, you'll come out it stronger than you were before."

"You mean it?"

I nod.

He smiles a little. "Thanks," then he cuts himself off, "oh sorry, I haven't even introduced myself. I'm, Amir Patil."

Then it clicks. He's Raj's brother! But unlike Raj, who's a Ravenclaw with curly dark hair. Amir has straight brown hair that falls into his eyes. Then I look down at him, they both have the exact same eyes, the lightest shade of brown, that feel so bright. Like they almost twinkle.