Ch. 30: The Calm

Song For This Chapter: Without You — Lana Del Rey

LANA'S POV:

"Things are getting crazy, Finnigan."

Seamus smirked, I think. He had taken so many beatings these past few months that I wasn't sure if he would ever truly recover. "Things have always been crazy, Dowell."

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head at his attitude. I've quickly learned that Seamus Finnigan doesn't really take much seriously when it involved him getting injured. There was a cotton towel in my hand as I lightly dabbed at the wound on his cheek, cleaning it and rebandaging it.

"I'd tell you to do this yourself," I told him, eyeing the single, swollen blue eye that was peeking out behind the mush of face, "but you're too broken for that."

Seamus chuckled, it was muffled. Probably by a collapsed lung.

My brow hardened. This wasn't funny. Nothing about this was funny. "You look like a rotten potato."

"You look heavenly."

"That's nice," I bit out, tossing the rag from me and onto the floor of the Room of Requirement. We'd been sleeping in here ever since the return of spring break. So few of us had come back to Hogwarts, and part of me questioned why I had even returned. Seamus sighed, knowing that I was pissed about something or other.

Seamus sat up on his cot, laying his forearms on his knees and peering down at his reflection in his shiny shoes. "Lana, what's the matter?"

I chewed on my bottom lip. It wasn't in a sexy, 'let's bang and get a party going' sort of way, but a nervous, chipmunk fashion that I could tell Seamus still, somehow, found adorable.

"You're adorable, you know."

"I hate being called adorable. Kids are adorable. I want to be beautiful, sexy, amazing." My feet swung off the side of the bed as I teased him, trying to make my worries disappear. Seamus placed a hand on my shoulder, earning my gaze. Sighing, I sucked in a breath and let my mask slip. "I'm worried... about you."

"Me? Oh, come off it,"

"No, you come off it!" I pushed his shoulder. "This isn't a game Finnigan."

Seamus's face contorted as if he was trying to make an expression, but his beatings wouldn't allow it. "What's that? What face are you trying to pull, then?" My voice was tight and high strung and I felt like a nagging mother for a moment, so I reeled it back in, letting my shoulders sag as I released the pressure building inside myself.

I was ready to explode.

"I'm tryin' to arch a brow at you, to be honest," he admitted. "Who woulda thought that Lana Dowell, the man hater herself, would be worried for me, Seamus Finnigan."

I scoffed, shaking out my hair as I crossed my arms across my chest. "I don't hate men. I just... don't really care for them all that much."

"Maybe it's because you usually eat men," Seamus said. I shot him a glare. Veelas hadn't eaten anyone in a century. "So what does that make me?" He asked, turning the conversation onto a new route before I could correct him.

Hair fell over my eyes and I quickly pushed it back behind my ears. "I like you, all right? But, you knew that." Seamus didn't say anything, just watched me as I opened and closed my mouth, trying to find the right words. "I'm not afraid to say it, you know. I like you, Seamus Finnigan, and I think you feel the same way."

"I do."

"Good." I beamed.

"Good." He repeated.

"You're not the only people in this room, guys," a third year piped up from across the Room of Requirement, peering over a copy of the Daily Prophet. Seamus grunted and swiped the blood soaked rag from the floor, balled it up in his fist and tossed it at the third year, hitting him in the face. "DISGUSTING, MAN WHAT THE HELL!?" The boy gagged at the sight of the blood; clearly, it was a phobia of his.

I cackled, I couldn't help it. Plus, his pain was funny to me.

"Shut up, Crowley!" Finnigan yelled at him, a lightness to his tone. "Who saved your arse the other day? Yeah," the third-year looked away, "that's right."

Swiping at the dew left under my eyes from how hard I was laughing, I grinned at Seamus. "Are you gonna kiss me or not?"

Seamus shot a wink, more accurately a one-eyed blink, at Crowley as he dramatically grabbed me and kissed me hard. I chuckled against his lips, but kissed him back, carefully wrapping my arms around his shoulders as he wrapped me against him as well.

It started playful and light, but slowly our greediness began to take over.

"Gross, come on, mate —"

"—Crowley, I swear!"

ELLE'S POV:

There was no news of Harry and my sister breaking into Gringotts. It made my increasing anxiety even worse as the days passed, cooped up in Aunt Muriel's and having no word about them. Wouldn't it be all over the news if the bank was robbed?

I could smell it as I sat up in my bed. Somewhere in this house, coffee was being made. That coffee was going to be mine. I'd fight Aunt Muriel for it.

My body rocketed out of the bed and, before I knew it, I was rushing through the bedroom door and flying down the staircase, a robe half thrown on over my pajamas. I used my nose to navagate through the rooms, locating the kitchen through stench alone. It was impressive.

"I give it two minutes," George's voice was on the other side of the door. I prepared myself to tackle him for the coffee, rolling out my shoudlers. I could do it, I was sure.

My hand brushed the brass door knob as Fred's voice responded to his brother, mockingly. "You don't know Elle's obsession as well as I do. She can find this in her sleep. Trust me, any second now." I paused, squinting a the wooden door in front of me.

"I don't know," George chuckled. "She may be your wife, but I don't doubt my bet."

Silently, I scoffed at them from behind the door. Why were they always betting on me? Shaking my head, I pushed down my craving for the coffee on the otherside of the door and crossed my arms over my chest, planning to stand there until both of their bets were void.

That would teach them.

The smell of the coffee was almost too tempting.

"Looks like I'm going to win, Freddie." I could hear a chair scraping against the floor, and the sound of liquid being poured into a mug; the scent of delicious coffee drew stronger.

Patience. Patience.

"Morning, Eliza!" Blake chirped behind me, scaring the shit out of me. I nearly jumped into the air at her unexpected appearence.

Swallowing my scream, I pat my chest and turned to watch the glowing frame of Blake, who was wearing a light coloured jacket over a pair of jeans, her curls tucked tightly into a couple braids. "Jeez, Blake, where the hell did you come from? You scared me!"

"I always scare you, Elle," Blake chuckled, her lips quivering as she tried to hide her grin. "You aren't really the most observant person; I came from outside. Didn't you hear the door open behind you?"

Fred and George cheered and booed from the other side of the door. I pushed it open, shooting them a glare. "You know, coffee addiction isn't a thing!" I looked at Blake as she made her way around me, no longer hiding her grin, "And, no, I didn't hear you."

"Too busy trying to make me loose a perfectly valid wager, love?" Fred arched a brow. George muttered something under his breath but reached in the the pocket of his waistcoast, pulling out a small money pouch and digging out a couple Knuts for his brother's outstretched palm.

"Only because I love you." I blew him a kiss.

Fred offered me a large mug, the coffee inside already calming my nerves and making my day better. "If you only looked at me the way you look at coffee."

"I look at you perfectly fine!"

Fred gave me my morning kiss, the mug between us. "How'd you sleep?" He could see the bags under my eyes just as well as I could feel them on my face, weighing a couple pounds. "Still worried?"

"Don't you think that it's odd? I mean, Gringotts gets robbed, but they don't announce it? There's no man-hunt? No media about it?"

Blake and George slipped out of the room, tossing some excuse about 'errands', but we hardly paid them mind. We were both too afraid to ask any real questions about where the two of them slipped off during the day.

Fred placed his cup of coffee down onto the counter and leant against it, thinking hard. "I've been wondering about that. But, I think I've got a theory." I leaned in closer, showing him that I was listening as I sipped. "You see, if Harry had been caught, there would be a fire storm of media about it, right? You-Know-Who would want people to be fearful, because for a lot of people, Harry Potter is their only hope."

"Mhm," I nodded.

He waved his hands as he talked, growing more animated as he described his theory. "So, if Harry did manage to steal from Gringotts, maybe they wouldn't want to broadcast that to the masses of people who are already beginning to think that their 'saviour' has abandonded them. So, I think no news is good news."

I sighed, feeling the weight of worry lift from my shoulders as he finished his belief. It sounded logical enough. Of course, You-Know-Who would want to keep the successful robbery under wraps, the news about Death Eaters being tricked by Harry Potter, Undesirable Number One, would reflect badly on them.

"You're so smart."

Fred smiled, rolling up his sleeves and picking up his drink. "That's why you married me, isn't it?"

"Mostly for the money," I said.

"Ha, good one."

April was melting away too quickly, soon it would be May. It was like someone had hit fast-forward on the film of my life, speeding up all my time. Something was coming, and it was painful. The Wizarding World was on high alert and soon enough everything was about to hit its boiling point. Any day now.

"Let's go swimming," Fred said, placing his mug in the sink and rinsing it out, absently thinking of something completely different than me, apparently.

I pulled a face at that. He and I both knew that Aunt Muriel didn't have a pool on her property. Gulping down the very last drops of caffine, I placed my cup in the sink and stood beside Fred, the both of us looking out of the wide window. "What? There's no pool."

"There's that stupid fountain." He nodded towards the fountain in the middle of the garden in Aunt Muriel's property. It was a gaudy, stone fountain large enough to bathe twenty flocks of birds and deep enough to keep a couple mermaids. One could look at it and know that too much money had been spent on it.

However, the thought of swimming in it sent a shiver down my spine. Like swimming in a still water lake. "Gross," I shook my head at him, turning the water off on the sink, "besides, your aunt would kill us."

"All the more reason to do it."

A few hours later, in the heat of the day, there I was, standing over the over-the-top fountain, peering into the stone basin of it and trying not to gross myself out before I even attempted to put up with it.

A wild yell came from behind me. I glanced behind me just in time to see Fred emerge from the manor and strip off his shirt, his red hair flapping in the wind as he took a running start at the fountain I was standing beside. With the grace of a teetering, giant bean pole, Fred Weasley rushed at the water and dove in, arms outstretched in front of him.

Cringing, I swayed away from the spray of his wake, still trying to talk myself into it.

"Ouch, for fuck's sake!" Fred yelped, sitting up in the fountain and craddling his knees. I leaned over the rim of the fountain and peered down at his scraped and brusied skin.

I tried not to laugh at the pained and shocked face he was pulling. "Fred, you jumped into a fountain. You swan dived into one. I mean... what an idiotic stunt." Fred shielded his eyes from the sun and smiled up at him as I stood over him and the stupid, gaudy fountain. With him in it, it seemed a lot smaller.

"So, you coming in, Letter?" Fred asked, pushing away from the rim of the fountain and backstrocking towards the other side. He reached it in little time, but the fact that he could move around in the fountain spoke about how ridiculous it was. "The water's fine."

"How'd I know you'd say that?"

Fred splashed fountain water at me and I dodged it, clenching my fists. "You know me too well." He paddled back to the side I was standing by and reached out for me, his wet hands cold against the skin of my waist. I didn't have a bathing suit so I decided to improvise with shorts and a sports bra.

"Tell me the truth." I eyed the ripples in the water, not sure if the fact that I couldn't see the bottom of the fountain was a bad thing or not. "How slimy is it in there?"

Fred stuck a hand back into the water, running his limber fingers through it, frowning. "I'd say it's about twenty percent slime." I shuddered. Fred backtracked, trying not to laugh at the face I was making. "Eighty percent is water, so that's good. I mean, could be worse. Could be pee."

"I'm going to regret this," I told him, kicking off my tennis shoes.

Fred made some room for me, holding out a hand to help me over the wide rim and into the awaiting fountain water. The rush of cold between my toes was refreshing and felt nice, but I was still trying to push the reality of the fountain from my head.

After a few minutes and a lot of distraction from Fred, I let myself relax. The water lapped gently against my skin and Fred and I talked about everything and nothing, just little things that didn't really matter. Distraction was a nice feeling. The ability to let go with him was everything that I didn't know I needed.

I wished we could stay in this moment, soaking it all in, being with each other, forever. Or, at least for a long time. It was nice. Fred pulled me into his side and I lay my head on his chest as we watched the birds chirp, angrily, from the trees at the two of us.

But, like everything, it was fleeting. We were fleeting.

"I'll always be by your side." Fred told me after a long period of comfortable silence.

I kissed his exposed shoulder, meeting his eyes. "You're gonna miss me when I'm gone."

"You think so?"

"I know so." I pressed my cheek against his skin and peered out into the horizon. "Who else would fountain swim with you. Other than George, of course."

LANA'S POV:

I was beginning to hate being locked up in the Room of Requirement. I needed fresh air. I needed space. Everyone was just so close to everyone else and I was starting to lose it. Cabin fever was a bitch.

I scribbled some doodles onto a crumpled scrap of paper, trying to keep myself busy and not focused on how much I hated human beings. I could recognize Seamus's broken walk as he approached my cot. "Lana, I wanted to talk to you."

I wanted to talk to you. Great, more bad news.

My stomach churned in nervous worry as I lifted myself from my bed and followed Seamus to one of the back corners of the Room of Requirement, where less people could overhear the conversation. Something told me I knew what he wanted to say, and my heart wasn't up for it.

Seamus's potato face shifted between a few shades of colors before he decided on how he wanted to begin this talk. "Look, I know you hate labels."

I fucking knew it. "Oh come on, don't do this —"

Seamus took my hand in his and I tried to ignore the way my whole body ignited in desire. "Why not?"

My heart began to pick up speed. "I-I just." I blinked stupidly a few times, unable to find the words. "It's just we've got something, you know, like... really great here. Do we really need to ruin it by proclaiming anything?"

"You're really against being monogamous aren't you," he asked, the surprise in his tone felt a little abbrasive, but I knew he didn't mean it that way.

"No, it's not that it's just —"

"—Just a lot?"

What could I say? I had never had this problem before. Hell, I'd never bothered with boys before, so I didn't really know what to say. I felt like the walls were pushing at me. I've never wanted a boyfriend. "Boyfriends mean that there's someone outside of my circle of friends. Something that I can... I mean,..."

"Care for?"

I flinched. God, I hate cheesy, romance conversations. Why did Seamus have to do this to me? "Lose." I wanted to rip out my tongue. I knew I'd regret this. "Because right now, after all of this, you could decide that I'm not what you thought."

That seemed to take him by surprise. "What're you saying?"

I eyed the stone wall beside us, swallowing all my insecurities that were rushing to the surface. I could just bang my head against this until he left, until I was bleeding out of my eyes. That would be a better alternative to this conversation. I had always been so reserved. So cautious. I was aware of what I was. I was a Veela, and after that charm and novelty wore off, men never stayed. My father hadn't.

Seamus was waiting for some excuse. I couldn't think of one.

"I'm saying I might be too much for you to handle, Finnigan," I winked, hiding the shot that ached my chest at that lie. I couldn't form the truth into words. We were a fling and I couldn't dump that kind of emotional baggage onto him right now.

"I doubt that." Seamus smirked. "Commitment freaks me out too, Lana. But, if you're willing, so am I. I bet you seven Galleons you'll leave me first anyway; I'm not as ruggedly good looking when all this," he guestured to his face, "fades."

I gave him a pitty giggle, but couldn't help the smile on my lips. Seamus began to talk, but an obnoxious imagine in the corner of my eye distracted me. Jenna, acting like an idiot, was waving at me, jumping up and down.

     What? I asked, speaking with my eyes, not wanting to interrupt Seamus's talking.

      From across the room, Jenna pulled out her wand and wrote with golden letters in the air: SAY YES!

     I shifted away from Jenna, embarassed that she could hear the two of us. I sputtered out an incoherent response to some question that Seamus had asked. I could tell he was confused by the odd scrunch in his face. "Sorry, what was that?"

      "Uh," Seamus scratched the back of his neck, "Well, I was wondering if you would like to be my girlfriend."

      Before I could say something, Jenna, waving her arms like a madwoman behind him, cheered me on, eyes hopeful. Seamus continued to cushion the situation. "You can wait to answer -- give it a day, or a year, I'm available."

      Somehow, hearing Seamus say that out loud made my heart sing.

     How could I say no to that? "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

"Good." He grinned.

"Good."

      Seamus tilted his head, a grin trying to break across his stupid, mashed up face, using my words from the day before. "Are you gonna kiss me or not?"

------

Favorite Comment (s) on the last chapter:

It honestly shoots pain through my chest thinking about this book ending ! I'm gonna lose my mind too, seriously. And, thank you fiery_redhead, you've been around forever and your support pushes me (: