A Kiss of Trouble

039: The One That Got Away (And The One Who Let Her Go)

James was a mess. And that didn't happen very often.

The last time he even felt remotely close to this, was when Gryffindor had lost to Slytherin in the Quidditch finals— twice in a row. But even then, his misery had an expiration date. Sure, he sulked for a week— trashed the dorm, whined to McGonagall, and then got it over with. That's the thing with him— he was sunshine personified, the kind of person who doesn't dwell in the dark. He was the boy who got everything— good grades (when he actually tried), a perfect family, great friends, talent, charm, and a life that always seemed to fall somewhere near flawless.

But not now. Now, James felt like he had just been dropped from the heavens above and got sent crashing into the ground, unable to move, breathe, and do anything but wallow in the ruins of everything he once had.

His dorm was locked tight since the three boys' insisted on knocking on it every bloody hour. He knew they were curious, and he should've been telling them everything. He knew they could help, but he wasn't ready to talk. He was afraid that if he said it out loud, everything would feel real. Too real. Because right now, he could still pretend. Pretend that if he walked into the Great Hall, she'd still be there, looking or glaring at him like she always did— like what he wanted.

But she was gone.

The worst part was that she wasn't really done— she was still here, breathing the same air, still walking the same corridors. But she wasn't his anymore. And James doesn't know how to exist in a world where Octavia Mikaelson wasn't his.

Her scent still clung to his sheets, her clothes were still stuffed in the corner of his closet because she had forgotten to take them. The memories of her, her touch, her voice, the way she looked at him before she walked away, had burned into his brain, tormenting her at every second.

He had spent the whole weekend locked away— sulking, crying— Merlin, he hated himself for that— and trying to process what the hell happened. But it didn't work. His brain refused to make sense of it.

But that's the thing, life didn't care that he was heartbroken. So he forced himself out of bed, dragging and forcing himself to go through classes, showing up late, ignoring the concerned glances from Remus and Peter, and the teasing ones from Sirius (though he stopped after realizing James wasn't joking). His mind, however, never left her. Every second, every moment, was consumed by the thoughts of her.

And now, as he stood in front of the mirror in his dorm, fixing his Head Boy badge onto his coat with trembling fingers, he felt a wave of undeserving shame wash over him.

Head Boy. Gryffindor's Quidditch Captain. Brave and bold and everything like what a leader should be.

But he wasn't brave. He wasn't courageous. Because he had let the one person who truly mattered slip through his fingers— all because he was a coward.

He wanted nothing more than to skip the night, bury himself under the covers, and drown with sadness and self-loathing, but McGonagall had personally come up to him and scolded him for skipping out on his supposed meeting with Lily. Now, she had given him a parchment filled with notes about the upcoming event for the prefect's meeting. She had given him no choice, so he had to go.

His heart was pounding as he entered the classroom, where Lily was already waiting in front. Her eyes were trained on him, eyeing him carefully.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

"Yeah." He said too quickly, too flatly.

Lily pursed her lips, clearly not buying it. But luckily, she didn't press the issue further. "Well, I do hope you've already read the discussion points in the parchment. McGonagall was too strict for this Ball to be a mess."

James hummed, not even sparing her a glance. He busied himself by looking at the said parchment, while his eyes were flickering towards the door every time someone came in.

And then, she entered.

Octavia Mikaelson, walking beside Remus, looking effortlessly put together. Her face was unreadable, guarded— more so than before. But occasionally, she still smiled at whatever Remus was saying. A soft, small, familiar smile.

James' heart clenched.

Because that smile used to be his.

And now, she was avoiding him like it was her second nature like she wasn't even trying. Meanwhile, James was in front, struggling to even breathe in the same room as her.

Surprisingly, the meeting went well.

Lily had efficiently assigned tasks to the prefects, while James, despite the uneasiness brewing inside him, laid out everything that needed to be done for the upcoming event. It was professional and organized— no unnecessary comments, no snide remarks, and no chaos. It felt too peaceful, too unnatural.

James had made it through the three-hour-long meeting without throwing a glance at Octavia. It had taken every ounce of willpower in his body to keep his eyes trained on the parchment in front of him or the faces of the other prefects. His palms were sweaty, his tie felt too tight, and at one point, he was so tense that he nearly snapped his quill. But he did it. He never looked at her once.

And somehow, that made him feel worse.

The walk back to the Gryffindor tower was eerily quiet, which doesn't usually happen when James and Remus are together. Usually, the two will gossip about the recent happenings in the castle or converse about something dumb. But not right now. Remus was oddly keeping silent, and normally, James would've appreciated it. But knowing Remus, who had been throwing him these small, knowing side glances, James had an idea that he was waiting for him to say something.

But James pretended not to notice.

That was, until, Remus sighed loudly.

"I know what happened," He said casually.

James hummed, barely reacting. Still dazed and mind flying elsewhere.

"Octavia didn't tell me. I just sort of... guessed. Think I'm good at that, eh?" Remus nudged James playfully, his elbow knocking against his ribs.

James didn't budge.

Remus sighed again but this time, it was heavier and more exasperated. "Look, mate, I get it. It's miserable, you're miserable, and I know you're too proud to admit it, but you're a total wreck."

"I'm not a—"

"You've spent the entire meeting looking constipated just so you won't throw a glance at her. Prongs, we've been friends for almost seven years! I've seen you piss your pants when you saw me turn into a werewolf, and we've been undeniably close ever since. Don't you think I won't realize what's happening to you?" Remus hissed, looking around to see no one was nearby.

James opened his mouth and closed it again. Okay. Fair.

"You need to put yourself together, man up, and tell everything you feel. Ask her back. Talk to her properly. Just... just bloody do something!"

James clenched his jaw. "I did talk to her. She ended it."

"And you let her."

"Well, what am I supposed to do, Moony?" James ran a frustrated hand along his curls. "She wanted to end it."

"Did she really? She likes you, I know that!"

James stopped in his tracks and stared at him, a guilty look on his face. Remus and him locked eyes for a minute, a knowing look was shared between them. The lanky guy's eyes widened in shock, and James couldn't help but curse himself at his idiocy.

"Look, I'm not judging you, mate. But bloody hell?" Remus looked at him unbelievably and then sighed. "Listen, I didn't really know what went down when you two talked before, and I won't force you both to speak up. But you and I know she's not fine. Sure, some people might buy her cold act that made her seem like she was doing well, but she's not. And if you don't do anything about it, someone else will."

James' entire body went rigid.

The thought of another man touching Octavia, looking the way he did, whispering sweet nothings to her ear, making her laugh, touching her— Merlin, he felt sick.

"—I swear. Octavia looked beautiful these past few days."

James and Remus both snapped their heads in the direction where Apollonius Nott and Ethan Davies were walking. They were going in different ways, but their conversation was still within earshot.

"I mean, she always looked beautiful, but there was just something about her this week, y'know?" Apollonius sighed dreamily. "When I saw her walk in our common room earlier with that intimidating glare she has, all I could ever think was... she's magnificent."

James' eye twitched.

Ethan laughed. "Just ask her out. But if I were you, I'm going to be a little careful. She's friends with my ex, and also probably with his friends. She might be trouble."

Remus scoffed, shaking his head unbelievably.

Apollonius groaned. "Mate, I wouldn't care about that. She can hex me on the spot and I'd still probably cream my pants. She's way out of my league. But I might have a little crush on her. Can you blame me?"

A little crush?

Oh, he'd show him a little crush— by kicking his arse across the bloody castle.

Beside him, Remus threw an arm on James' shoulder, forcing him to walk with him. "See what I'm talking about?"

James took a deep breath, counted to three, and forced his voice to sound casual. "No, I don't."

Remus grinned. "Uh-huh. You sure you still don't want to talk to her before Apollonius writes her sonnets?"

James scowled. "As if he can even do that."