The morning of the first Friday of March, when Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ben were having breakfast, Timothy came hooting by, flying gracefully over the students' heads, and landing on top of one of Ben's books.

"I hope it's from Alycia," he commented as he untied the letter from his paw. "Have any of you got any owl treats? I forgot mine upstairs."

Harry took out some of his own, making the owl jump over to him while Ben unfolded the letter and was relieved to see that, as usual, it was from Alycia.

'Hello Ben,

You won't believe what I just found out! This has to be a short letter because Mother wants me to go shopping with Ebony, so I haven't got much time.

Well, I just heard Audrey talking to Mother and Father in his office. And I heard them mention something that surprised me a lot. They said something about her getting married! With Steve, her Hufflepuff boyfriend.

I can't believe it, but I'm not supposed to know yet, so please act like I never told you this!

Anyways, bye Ben, I love you!

Alycia.'

"Merlin!" he gasped as soon as he was done reading the letter.

"What happened?" asked Ron, munching some toast as he looked over his shoulder to take a look at the letter.

"Audrey's getting married."

Ron choked on the toast, so Ben smacked his back.

"With who?" Hermione's eyebrows had lifted up in surprise.

"Steve..."

Harry's eyes widened. "And your parents... approved of it?"

Ben shrugged. "It seems so. Alycia overheard them, so maybe she was wrong, I don't know."

"The world is going crazy," commented Ron. "Does this mean your parents' views have... changed?"

"I don't think so," replied Ben gloomily. "There's gotta be some sort of hidden reason behind this."

"Well, I think it might be a good sign," said Harry casually.

"Me too," agreed Ron, nodding effusively. "It might mean they'll allow you to date whoever you want to."

Ben stared at him. "No, I assure you it doesn't."

Ron's smile faded slowly. "Why not?"

"Because it's... Not the same."

"What are you talking about?" asked Hermione, looking very confused.

Ben suddenly realised Hermione had absolutely no clue of what had happened. Well, maybe she did suspect something, but he was quite sure neither of the boys had told her.

It made him feel slightly guilty, but he thought it'd be better like that. The more people who knew about it, the more danger there was that word would spread.

"Nothing," he said immediately.

And, less than a week later, when Ben and his friends were hanging out outside school, taking advantage of one of the first slightly sunny mornings of the year, Timothy appeared again.

"Is it from Alycia again?" asked Ron.

Ben shook his head, reading the name written on the envelope. "Audrey."

He was somewhat scared of finding out what she had written. It had been over half a year since they last spoke to each other, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to break the streak now. His hands shaking slightly, he unfolded the letter.

'Hello Benjamin,

I know you might be surprised by me writing to you, but I'm doing it for two reasons. Firstly, I want to make amends with you. I wanted to reach out, to ask if you would be willing to have a conversation with me this summer. I think that there is so much to say, so many explanations I ought to give. Because, no matter what, you still are my brother, and I am still your sister, and it will always be like that, despite all the stupid things I said when you became a Gryffindor.

And, secondly, I want to invite you to my wedding. Mother and Father were hesitant about it, and recommended not to do it, since they were scared you would cause trouble. But I told them you had been behaving properly for quite a long time now, and that the last time it happened was three years ago. So they agreed. I think you already know who my future husband will be... And that's also another of the reasons why I want to talk to you, because I feel the need to thank you for helping me understand that there's times in which love is worth any kind of fight.

And it seems like this was one of those times.

I hope you have read this, although I think I would understand it if it turns out you have burnt the letter. I don't expect any sort of answer from you, but I would be very grateful if you accept the invitation and are willing to talk to me when you come back home.

See you soon, Benjamin.

Audrey.'

His face was emotionless, but his insides were a mixture of every single feeling he had ever experienced. Harry, Ron and Hermione were looking at him, waiting for him to speak, but he didn't know what to say. Or to think, honestly.

"Is everything okay?" asked Harry worriedly.

"She wants to talk to me once school is over," he replied. "She said she wanted to give me explanations."

"Explanations?" repeated Ron, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

"About what she's become, I assume..."

"Well, I'm glad she finally decided to do it," announced Hermione, looking quite annoyed. "It's not okay, what she's done to you. Feeding you with empty promises and then betraying you..."

Ben didn't reply.

Although he knew she was right.

———————————————

March really seemed to be 'Ben receiving letters from his family' month.

However, the third and last one wasn't as... happy as the last ones, that was for sure. It arrived in the last week of the month, on a Saturday morning.

"Can't wait to read what she's found out," commented Ben, watching Timothy land, for the third time in the month, beside him at the table. However, his heart dropped instantly as he realised it was, in fact, not from Alycia. "Oh no."

"Is it not from her?" asked Hermione, looking over his shoulder, and her eyes widening at the sight of the names written on the envelope.

From: Sébastien and Katherine Walker.

To: Benjamin Walker.

He stared at it. He read the names. He read them again. He observed the furious strokes of his mother's handwriting. He observed the ink she had chosen. He noted the way the words were written tightly against the envelope, as if they had wanted to carve it into it. Instead, the realization of the fury of each letter had been forged in Ben.

He heard another owl flying by, and Hermione's attention drifted towards the newspaper she had just received.

He breathed in deeply, and tried to open the envelope. But he was so scared, so terrified, that his hands didn't respond correctly. They were shaking, more than they ever had.

Why was he so scared? Perhaps he was just overthinking the handwriting. Perhaps his mother was just in a rush and didn't feel like putting more time than necessary into having her usual neat and elegant handwriting.

But he couldn't calm himself. There was something inside of him that was telling him it was over, that was it.

"Do you want me to do it for you?" offered Harry, from his left side, in a whisper, his eyes fixed on Ben's shaky hands. He nodded, so Harry took it, and carefully opened the envelope. "There's two parchments here."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he handed him a folded letter, and something that looked like an article. "There you go."

"T-Thanks."

Why was he stuttering now? So pathetic. At least only Harry had heard him, since Ron was watching Hermione as she read her own newspaper.

Ben placed the article on top of the folded letter on the table and rested his hands on the bench where he was sitting. Around an inch away from Harry's hand. He wished he could hold it.

"What newspaper is it from?" wondered Harry.

"W-Witch Weekly."

Will I stop stuttering? he thought.

Harry seemed to understand what was happening, and moved closer to him. Their fingers touched. It wasn't too risky, since it looked like a mere coincidence to anyone who could've noticed. But it was more than enough to give Ben the strength to start reading.

HARRY POTTER'S SECRET HEARTACHE

A boy like no other, perhaps... Yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen year old Harry Potter thought that he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss.

Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the last Quidditch World Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affections. Krum is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to stay with him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays and insists that he has "never felt this way about any other girl."

But surprisingly, this is not all!

Some trusted sources claim that Harry Potter and Viktor Krum have not been his only victims, but there is a very shocking third...

Benjamin Walker, only male child of the Walkers (due to the fact that Jonathan Walker is still single), one of the most prestigious and oldest families in the wizarding world as we know it, famous for their purity of blood, seems to have a special love for Miss Granger.

"I'm quite sure they have more than just a friendship," says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth year student. "Which is weird as hell, given how close Walker and Potter are. It seems to me that their friendship is very strong, and I don't think Granger is someone worth ruining it for."

However, it may not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms that have captured these unfortunate young boys' interests.

"She's really ugly," continued Pansy Parkinson, "but she'd be well-up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it."

Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart on a worthier candidate.

"What is this?" exclaimed Hermione, holding out the exact same article. "Oh, Ben, you've got it too?"

"I have," he replied, in an almost robotic voice. "My parents sent it to me."

Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide in horror.

Before he had the chance to feel anything, he unfolded the letter, and was half surprised and half relieved to find out it was rather short. At least, they wouldn't scold him for that long, for now.

'Benjamin Walker,

We cannot believe you thought your father and I were stupid, and decided to fool us like this. You have no idea how angry and disappointed we are with you for making us believe that you had finally changed and understood the reason for our way of seeing the world.

We hope you are fully aware that there will be repression for making fun of not only us, but our pride and the honor of our family.

If you happen to do something to avoid them, you will finally find out what a Walker is capable of doing if he or she is led to do it.

Katherine and Sébastien Walker.'

Ben got up so suddenly, the letter crumpled in his hand, that it scared his friends. He tried to tell them something, but the world around him was blurry. And so was his mind. It was suddenly very cold, so cold so that he felt like he was freezing inside, like his blood was turning solid.

He was too scared to think properly. And, before he could realise, that fear shifted into a range so intense it shocked him. He walked over to the Slytherin table, glaring at Malfoy, who was already watching him approach. The blond's usual smirk whenever he was around faded immediately as soon as he realised how furious he actually looked.

"What's wrong, Walker?" he asked, looking genuinely worried for an instant. But Ben didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed his arm very roughly, and led him out of the Great Hall.

As soon as they were outside, out of anyone's sight, Ben pushed him against the wall, so furious his eyes stung.

"Are you crying, Ben?"

"Don't call me Ben!" he shouted, exploding. "Don't you dare call me that after everything you've done to me!"

He didn't reply.

"I trusted you! Twice!" he continued, the stinging in his eyes getting worse. "Back then, and you betrayed me, and you ruined my fucking life! Just because you're a coward, Malfoy, and I hate you more than I've ever hated anyone!"

Malfoy blinked very quickly.

"But I still trusted you again, last year, when you promised to keep my secret."

"And I kept it," he mumbled, his voice slightly shaky. "Both my promise and your secret."

"Well now they know!" he threw the crumpled up letter at him. "They know!"

Malfoy didn't read the letter, but he seemed to know what he was talking about.

"I didn't tell Skeeter that you two were friends," said Malfoy, his stormy grey eyes deep into Ben's light brown ones. "It was Parkinson."

"I know it was her, it's literally written there," he snapped. "But I bet you didn't even try to convince her to not say anything about me."

"This is not my fault, Be- Walker!" cried Malfoy, suddenly. "As soon as she told me what she had told Skeeter, I asked her to not include you in it."

"Do you expect me to believe that?"

"I'm telling the truth," he insisted. "I promise I tried, but it was too late. I guess it was too interesting for Skeeter to not add it in her article... I know you don't like me-"

"Oh, I certainly don't."

"Okay," he said, very seriously. "Then I assume you don't want me around you, so can I go now?"

And, for some reason, it made him even angrier. Everything about Malfoy made him angrier. All of the hatred welled up inside of his body was now fully directed towards him, and that was something he didn't like in the slightest. Because it made him want to lose his mind and make him feel the pain he had been feeling for years because of him. Because of that stupid accident when they were kids.

He knew he could punch him, he could hurt him physically. He could project all of his pain, rage, fear and hate onto him by hitting him, and it still wouldn't equal even the slightest bit of what he had done to him. He knew Malfoy wouldn't fight back. Because he had never had to prepare for something like this, lucky him. Also because, even though the blonde was somewhat taller than him, Ben was much stronger than him. He always had been, but since last summer he was much more evident to the eye.

He could have done it, but he didn't. Because he knew that, deep down, Malfoy wasn't to blame for the article. Or, at least, not in its entirety. He didn't do it, because he knew it wouldn't do any good. It would not return his parents' love. It wouldn't make his life go back to how it was. It wouldn't erase all those years from his memory. And it wouldn't make them go back to being those little best friends who were inseparable.

He didn't do it, because he wasn't like them.

———————————————

No matter how much his friends insisted on going outside that afternoon, Ben refused to join them. Everything that had happened that morning had shook his entire mind, making him uncapable of stopping all the thoughts and memories inside his head.

Every sort of advance regarding... Anything, actually, was now gone. He felt exactly like the young kid he used to be back when it happened for the first time.

He had never completely forgotten about it, but now he remembered it all too well.

So, since he didn't want to leave, his friends insisted on staying with him, to distract himself from everything. But he wasn't sure if he wanted to actually avoid thinking. It was what he had been doing for his entire life; forcing himself to think of other things whenever something went wrong.

"If you want to be on your own, that's okay," said Ron, as he, Hermione and Harry stood in the boys' dormitory. "We can come back in a couple of hours."

"Okay," he said, sitting on his bed. "Thank you."

Hermione smiled kindly at him, and opened the door.

"Wait," Ben stood up, all of a sudden. "Harry, could you... Erm-"

Ron smirked to himself, though he did his best to cover it by pretending his cheek was itchy.

"Yeah?" asked Harry.

"Could you please stay?" he dared to say.

Harry's face lit up, and he, too, attempted to cover it. "Yeah, sure, of course... Yeah."

Ron let out a chuckle, and Ben could've sworn he had caught a glimpse of a knowing look on Hermione's face before they left.

Ben sat back down, and Harry did the same, but on his own bed. "Are you alright?"

"I don't really know, honestly," he replied. "It feels... weird."

"Rita Skeeter is such an awful woman."

Ben looked down at his hands. "It's my fault anyway."

Harry's eyes widened. "What? How?"

"I shouldn't have said what I said to her... Merlin, I'm so tired of constantly saying things like that, they keep getting me into trouble. It's always been like that, with everyone. It started with my parents, then with my sister Audrey, then with my entire family, and now with pretty much everyone. And I hate it, but I can't stop it. Like I genuinely can't. I get mad, and I lose control, and I start saying this I then regret... I'm so sick of it." All of a sudden, the lump in his throat broke, and a sob escaped his lips. "I hate that it's all my fault. I hate myself so fucking much."

Harry nearly jumped to his feet and sat next to Ben, facing him. "Don't say that, Ben, please. Nothing that has ever happened to you is your fault."

"No, but it is, Harry, it really is."

"Why do you think that?" he asked, so softly that his voice felt like a hug.

"Because it's the truth," he insisted, and that feeling of intense coldness invaded him again. "If I wasn't the way I am, everything would've been easier. Everything. I wish I was different. I wish I was like they wanted me to be."

Harry was silent for an instant, while Ben was fighting with all of his will to stop himself from crying. He had already cried enough. Twice, that year.

"Well, I personally adore the way you are," confessed Harry in a whisper. "Actually, I adore you."

"I adore you, too."

Harry smiled. "And I know I'm not the only one who does. Ron and Hermione adore you, too, though in a... different way than me. And so do your other friends. Thomas, Cedric, Leah, Mei-Xing... Oh, and, er- Marina."

Ben couldn't help but chuckle at the tone in which Harry had said Marina.

"And, of course, your sister Alycia," he concluded. "I don't know her very well, but I know for sure that she loves you more than she loves anyone else, and that you're the best brother she could've ever asked for."

Ben took out of his pocket the crumpled parchment that he had been trying to flatten. Harry watched him unfold it, and hand it over to him. "You want me to read it?"

He nodded. "And I want you to tell me if you think I'm overthinking something about it."

"I don't know if I'm the best person for that, Ben, I tend to overthink a lot."

"I want to know your opinion. Not anyone else's."

So Harry took the letter, adjusted his glasses, and his absolutely magnificent eyes shifted from side to side as he read the letter. When he finished, less than a minute later, he looked up at him, his face paler than usual.

"You can't go back there..." he began.

"I have to," he interrupted. And, before Harry could insist, he spoke again. "So, do you think that the last part could also mean they might get mad at Alycia?"

Harry stared at the letter, reading the last part again. "I-I think that it might?"

"Fuck."

Ben stood up, feeling a rush of both fear and anger running through his insides, and walked up to the window. He opened it, desperate for some fresh air. It was slightly cold outside, although it could've just been the contrast between how stressed he was.

"But I don't think they will. I mean, why would they?" said Harry, who had gotten to his feet and was behind him. "She's done nothing wrong."

Ben didn't look away from outside the window. "But have I?"

Harry frowned. "What?"

"Have I done something wrong?"

He blinked. "Of course not... I- Did I say something that implied it?"

"No," Ben closed the window, and turned to Harry, taking a deep breath. "No, you haven't. I'm sorry."

"Ben, I hope you know that I would never, ever, say or even think that you deserve any of the awful things that might have happened to you," he said, approaching him.

Ben took another step towards him, the proximity making his heart flutter. "I know."

Harry's eyes were fixed on him in a way that made his mind spin. That boy really was driving him crazy, Merlin... It was incredible how someone's mere presence could alter his feelings and thoughts like that.

He didn't remember moving nearer to him, but now they were so close that it would only take a small, unimportant in other circumstances, movement towards the other for it to happen again again.

He wanted it to happen. He needed it. And it seemed like so did Harry. His eyes weren't whispering it, but screaming it at the top of their metaphoric lungs.

Harry leaned forward, very slightly and, on the split instant their lips brushed against each other, everything hit him with a strength it never had before.

He didn't even understand what was happening inside his mind, but he was there. He was five again. Or six, he didn't even remember anymore. But the thing was, he really was there. Although he wasn't really... Or, was he? He had no clue. He suddenly had no clue of what was real and what wasn't. He moved away from the boy in front of him, whose face he couldn't make out. It was blurred. His whole body was. The sensation of recently having kissed someone was hanging on his lips, but he couldn't tell if had been an accident or not, that time. What did he mean by 'that time'? He was six, there hadn't been more times than that! But he wasn't actually six.

He closed his eyes shut.

No, he wasn't actually six.

He wasn't actually six.

He was fourteen, turning fifteen that August.

He squeezed his eyes tighter, even though they couldn't close more, and he was quite surprised to see they were incredibly wet. He had cried. Or he was crying.

He was against a wall.

Was it his bedroom's wall? 

No, it wasn't. 

It was the wall of the boys' dormitory, at Hogwarts.

He was at Hogwarts, because he was no longer six years old. He wasn't six anymore. He would never be six again. He would never go back to being that kid.

The boy in front of him wasn't a kid, either. He was older, but not old enough to be his father, whose voice was ringing inside his mind, and not only inside his mind, although maybe it was. The same word kept echoing in that dark, big and nearly empty room at the Walker manor. He didn't know what it meant, but he associated it with pain, so he was sure it was something that would be awful to be.

However, he wasn't in that room at the Walker manor. He was at Hogwarts. And, now, he knew perfectly well what that word meant. The only thing that had stayed the same was its association with being hurt.

The person who had been in front of him was calling for him. The voice didn't sound too deep, or too angry. It sounded youthful, and worried.

It was not his father, yelling at him. He was sure, now. Completely sure. It belonged to a boy, a young one.

Maybe Malfoy?

No. He wasn't calling him by his last name. Or his full name. He was saying, "Ben!"

It was Harry. His best friend. His Harry.

He opened his eyes, fearing his confidence in it being Harry would disappear, and he would go back to when he didn't even know him.

He was right, Harry was there. The only thing that disappeared when he stopped squeezing his eyes shut and met Harry's gaze was that suffocating, agonising feeling.

They were both very close to the wall. Maybe Ben had tripped, or he had simply decided to, but he was on the floor, shaking. Harry was crouched down, in front of him.

"I'm sorry," murmured Ben.

"No, no, don't be," said Harry, shaking his head. "I'm the one who should apologise. I'm so sorry, Ben, I said I would wait-"

"I don't think I can do it."

"Do what?"

"This," he confessed, shakily. "It will never be safe."

"It...It might be."

Ben shook his head, his heart feeling heavier every second. "Not for us. I don't know what will happen when I go back there, but I know it'll be much worse if they find out about this."

"Don't go, Ben," repeated Harry. "Talk to Sirius, tell him everything you haven't told me, everything you have never told anyone... He ran away, why couldn't you?"

"Because I've got someone I must protect, Harry," he said. "Someone whose safety matters to me far more than my own. I'd rather go back there, and deal with the consequences of what I've done, than being a coward and leaving her there. I'd rather die than abandon her."

"Let's talk to Dumbledore, too, then. I'm sure he can do something to help you and Alycia get out of there-"

"Harry. Has he helped you get away from the Dursleys?"

He didn't answer at once. "No."

"Do you think that he will help me, then?" he asked. "He won't. If he hasn't done it for you, the boy who killed Voldemort, the boy who lived... He won't do it for an unimportant boy who hasn't done anything special." 

A/N: remember when, on last chapter, i said ben's happy self would be gone when fourth year ended? 

well, it was actually gone as soon as he read the letter 🤭

anyways hope you enjoyed my loves 💋💋

OH AND HAPPY NEW YEAR!! AND THANK YOU FOR ALMOST 90K READS!!!