Chapter 22: Of Hormones and Lies

POV: Nia and Rose         

I was sitting in front of one of the walls of my room, my knees crossed over one another as I kept my eyes steady before me. There, hanging on the wall by nails and not magic, was a full-length mirror in the shape of a pentagon that was bordered by white marble. I didn't know how long I was sitting there, just that I couldn't look away.

I couldn't make sense of what was going on inside my head. That was a first for me. I always knew exactly what I was feeling every second of every day because things were always exactly as they should be. That's where I thrived, when things were as they should be. 

But now nothing was how it was once before and it was making my thoughts a jumbled mess. It was making me lost. I often heard you needed to be quick to adapt to change or else you'd get caught in the crossfire, and I would laugh at those idiots because Harpers were chameleons, we adapted to every change to survive. Yet, somehow when I stepped away from my favorite old armchair, folding the corner of the page of my favorite book to go make a cuppa, someone replaced my favorite armchair with an ugly, modern leather thing you see in all those extravagant home decor magazines and threw my book into the flames of the fireplace and shoved a copy of that Witch Weekly crap at my face. 

Change was a bastard. And I was going to curse his bullocks off.

"Nia!"

Okay, fine. Figuratively speaking, I was (I'm well aware I can't harm something that's a force of the universe and all that shite). Change had taken my comfort from me. And I was not someone you robbed.

"Nia!"

Someone had to be jinxing my existence. Sure, my life wasn't perfect, I didn't have a vault in Gringotts overflowing with gold and other valuables, but for sixteen years I was content (occasionally angry). I would wager the few galleons I have saved up that it was Malfoy who had someone curse me just so he could have a proper laugh, but, then again, I was a judgmental bitch that blamed him for everything because of his surname. Then again, that within itself was something that had not changed and it made me appreciate the bastard. I could always count on Scorpius Malfoy for a good row (but at the rate things were going, I wouldn't be surprised if he decided he wanted to be best mates and find enlightenment). 

"Nia Harper!"

 I choked on that defeated sigh escaping my lips at my grandmother's shrill voice calling me from the level below. Merlin fuck, I was becoming her.           

All my life I've associated my grandmother with being domineering; demanding respect, demanding purity, demanding perfection, demanding things to stay the way she has always known them to be since she was a child (which, come off it, was about a thousand years ago).  It was the way she was, as my mother always said, but now it was clear. It was the way she stayed in control over everything. So, now as I felt like I was losing my sanity because things were slipping from me, had I become what I've hated all along? Have I been clashing with her all these years because, ultimately, we were the same bossy and commanding person?

The eyes reflecting off the mirror opened wide, a paralyzing fear in them as the thought formed.  

"Oh, Merlin, no," I breathed, feeling a panicked feeling starting to fill its way inside me.

Before I could start heaving for air and pass out as cold chills started running up my spine, the door to my bedroom opened.

"Not now, Grandmother," I managed to say through clenched teeth.

"Yeah, you might want to deal with her soon. She seems very upset."

That fright  halted itself and I turned my body in angle from my mirror, my eyes meeting the brown ones of Liam. He was caught on the middle of my door, one foot on the outside hall and the other on my carpet.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded.

Liam had been unsure what way to lean, but at the tone of my voice, he stepped back a tiny centimeter. "I, uh, I just thought you'd might like to go to Godric's Hallow together."

"I don't want to go anywhere with you," I said, letting my anger, my betrayal bubble over. I was not always entirely soft-spoken when it came to him, but I had never been this angry, this cold with him. That was another thing that had changed. I resented Liam. "In fact, get the hell out of my house."

Liam winced and I wanted to repeat the action. He looked away from me, his attention on his foot still inside my room. "You are avoiding me, then."

"Oh, came up with that all by yourself, huh? Well, that's a first."

His hand tightened around the door handle. "I know you're angry," he muttered, jaw tightening, "because you'd never talk to me that way, Nia. And I get it. I do. But...But we are supposed to be best friends. Why can't you try to understand how I'm feeling?"

"I know how you're feeling, Liam. Rejected. Deserted. Hurt. It's how you made me feel."

He looked up from his lashes at me. "This isn't about you, Nia."

"No," I breathed, "it's about you. And for once in my life, Liam, I don't want anything to do with it. I just want you to fucking—"

Liam had made his choice; he stomped into my bedroom, slamming the door behind him. I barely had any time to process the thought of how fucking dare he when his hands grabbed me by the upper arms, pulling me up. 

His fingers were still clutching me with strength I never knew he possessed when his brown eyes locked in on my blue, holding them hostage. He took a deep breath, a determined flash glimmering in his gaze before he started to lean in. 

I felt my breath get caught in my throat. 

"Merlin, you're beautiful, you know that?" He looked at me like he just discovered something no one else had. "I can't believe I've never said it to you."

A warm, affectionate surge broke past the anger I had been feeling.

"I can see what those blokes have been talking about," he continued to whisper. "You're gorgeous, Nia."

Liam rested his forehead against mine, the tip of his nose nudging mine with a soft caress. The air in my room thickened, yet somehow he found it in himself to take in a deep breath again, muttering something that sounded like here goes nothing before leaning in again.

He was going to kiss me. And he probably would have done so if I had not started laughing. 

His hands released me as I stumbled back, clutching on to my ribs as the force of my laughter rattled my bones. 

"I take it you didn't want me to kiss you, then?"

I barely managed to shake my head through the loud noise I was making. 

"You don't love me, do you?" Liam then asked, effectively ending my fit. Especially when he added, "If you don't, why do you hate the idea that I want to be with Lily?"

No longer feeling like the world was going insane right inside my bedroom, I froze on my spot. My best friend was looking back at me, his brown eyes determined once more—but this time they wanted an answer. 

"Of course I love you, Liam," I could feel my non-existent manly-bits about to fall off, but I supposed I owed him an explanation. "I love you more than anything else I've ever known."

A pink flush took over his cheeks. "You do?"

"Obviously," I snorted, rolling my eyes at the need for conformation on something that was known worldwide. "I'm just not in love with you, Liam. I mean...Sure, if I was a normal girl and you weren't everything that I cherished and connected with innocence, then yeah, I would. I'd be madly in love with you."

 "What about Lily, then? Why did you always make it seem like I had to choose between you two?"

"You were confused, then?" I dodged his question for a moment. "You were wondering if you had feelings for me."

 At my statement, his eyes softened and the pink on his cheeks deepened. "It wouldn't be so bizarre, would it? We're all we've ever known."

No, it really wouldn't be so bizarre for me and him to have ended up falling in love, but things don't always work like those fairytales they tried to feed us as children. Sometimes you don't fall for the boy who's stuck by your side like a faithful puppy, but the one who came out of the blue. One who came into your life, making you feel like you were hit beside the head by an unexpected bludger as you walked by, throwing everything off balance. Yes, that boy. The one you spend years sharing jokes with, frowning, degrading, and the one you never realize you fell for.

It's never the obvious choice, is it?

"Then, I guess you've found your answer," I finally replied, sitting gently at the edge of my bed. "You're everything that I've always known, Liam. It was always me and you, even during Hogwarts. Sure, Malfoy had the biggest chance of stealing you away from me, but he's family. You're supposed to deal with him. And it was comfortable, you know? Being able to let other people in, but still being the best friends we were when we were kids."

"What changed?" he asked carefully. "Because you are still my best friend, even if Lily is part of my life now."

I shrugged, letting silence fill my bedroom, but then I broke it with a defeated sigh. The poor bloke needed his answers. "I never thought you'd find someone you can love just as much as you do me. I know it's selfish, Liam, but you've always known me to be so. Especially when it comes to you. I just assumed it would always be us, happy as ever. Because we are happy, right? Happy being best friends?"

Liam nodded firmly, his arms crossing over the front of his fancy silver button-up. 

"I didn't want to lose that. I didn't want our dynamic to change because that blasted Potter girl batted her eyelashes at you and you discovered hormones and feeling," I shuddered at the last word. Then, with another defeated sigh, I said, "I was threatened. There. That's the truth. I wanted you to choose between us because I...I'm afraid she's going to take you from me, Liam. And this whole damn world can turn upside down, but I don't think I can survive losing you."

At the clear (strange) change that was taking over me (the high-pitch of my voice and my burning, wet eyes), Liam took a seat beside me, putting his arms around me to pull me in close to him. I buried my face in his neck. "Listen to me, Nia, that's never, ever going to happen. I'll always be here for you. No one is—"

"Don't say that," I cut through his promise, the words muffled by his skin, but I knew he could understand them. "One day Lily will stop being six years-old and you'll still be a boy—a boy who has a penis and will want to use it with someone who wants to participate."

"Lily's fourteen, Nia," he corrected, sounding appalled for a second (like that made it better). "And...yeah, I really like her, but that doesn't mean because new people come into our lives that you and I will stop loving each other any less." He squeezed me. "You're the only girl in the world that feels like they're a part of my blood and soul. What we feel for others, that's just what we deserve to have."

I nestled closer into him. "You have that," I mumbled. "Merlin knows why you fancy the Potter baby, but you do. And I'll have to see that. I'll be alone."

Liam snorted, shrugging his shoulder as a cue to look up at him. "Bullocks," he said when my eyes met his. "You're well aware of the long line of poor sods that want to be with you. Lorcan Scamander is one."

"Lor is not—"

"Lor," he snorted again, sounding something close to jealous and disgusted, but then he added, "And let's not forget Al."

"Al who?" I demanded, pulling myself away from his comforting warmth. "Albert Troy? That Sixth Year Slytherin scumbag I punched last month for looking under my skirt?"

Liam rolled his eyes, laughing as he stood from my bed. He didn't have to say anything, but I knew what he meant. I didn't have to say anything, but he knew what I meant. 

We always knew when it came to each other.

Huffing to myself, I stood as well, smoothing out the crease on my tight dress. "Are you sure little Lily Luna Potter won't throw a tantrum because we arrive together?"

"Hopefully not," he said, slightly concerned. "I did snog her once before so, you know, hopefully that sent a good message of my loyalty to her."

I gagged at the image my head conjured. "Uh, please refrain from telling me anything of the sort. You shall remain a virgin in my eyes forever. Now," I said before he could sputter, "let's go before the Potter baby has enough time to poison my plate of Christmas roast."

X

Silence was not something anyone entering the Potter residence was welcomed with. It was either arms wrapping around your neck tightly as a form of a loving embrace or a loud 'JAMES SIRIUS POTTER!' that rattled your bones. Seeing as Lily was no longer a child, but a rather moody teenage girl who would now be more likely to put her arms around your neck to choke you, it was the latter that my family and I were met with. The scream was provided by my darling Aunt Ginny.

Dad snickered to himself as Mum dusted off the soot from Hugo's hair. 

"It's not funny, Ronald," Mum said instinctively (as was her reflex whenever Dad laughed at something he was not supposed to).  "The poor child is probably a minute from dying."

"That's exactly why it's funny, 'Mione," Dad told her with a large smirk. "I always knew it'd be Ginny who ended up with a kid just like Fred and George." He reached over to help Mum shake off the soot caught in her brown curls. "And ours are perfect, just like you."

Mum pushed Dad's hand from her hair after he caught his finger in one of her curls, tugging rather harshly at it, making her wince. Dad sputtered an apology through a chuckle, but Mum had not found it amusing. She was a second from smacking him upside the head, but a loud, "Hiya!" came from the top of the staircase.

"Hey, Al," I smiled at my cousin, grateful for his opportunistic entrance. "Happy Christmas."

"Yeah, yeah," Al snorted as he hurriedly marched down the steps. "Happy holidays, whatever. Forget about that. I've got something to tell you, Rose."

"Oh, would you look at that?" huffed Hugo from beside Mum."How unusual is it that Al only sees Rose in the bunch? We might as well be invisible."

Al rolled his green eyes at my brother before pulling on a huge, forceful grin. "Happy Christmas, family! So lovely to see you. Especially you, Hugo. Wow. I haven't seen you in ages. It must be all the times you've blown me and Freddie off for your Ravenclaw friends."

Hugo smirked. "I'm busy, mate. Time slips me by."

"I hate you," said Al with a scoff.

My brother let out a loud laugh. "Quite right, too. Besides, we all know what you're going to tell Rose. Don't we, Mum?"

Mum looked at Al with nostalgia in her brown eyes, the same way she looked at me earlier this evening when I was trying to remember everything Dominique taught me on how to apply makeup. Still, it was Dad who said, "Oh, I know what this is about." 

Al paled for a second before narrowing eyes at me, accusing me of something I had not done. 

"This is about Albie turning sixteen tomorrow!" Dad added, clapping his nephew on the back. "You've told everyone your wicked Uncle Ron is buying you your first real glass of Firewhiskey."

Mum lost her sad glint to frown. "You will do no such thing."

"Why not? One more year and he's an adult. There's nothing wrong with a shot."

Exiting the kitchen, Aunt Ginny appeared before us looking more radiant than ever. Her long, flaming hair was curled to perfection down her waist, her pale face glowing silver in its highest points, a dash of pink blush on the apple of her cheeks, and her eyes were painted silver to enhance the golden flecks in them. 

"Don't tell the boy lies, Ron," she said to my father, "he's nowhere near being an adult. And don't call him Albie. You know he hates it."

Al grinned triumphantly.

"Dad's forgetting Rose's birthday is just two weeks after Al," Hugo said with his same smirk. "She's already been talking about moving out near her four universities of choice."

Dad frowned now. "She's not leaving."

"Dad," I sighed. "We've been through this."

He started to protest, but James had exited the kitchen just as Aunt Ginny had. He was carrying a cage, Lily's white owl glaring at him as it swung rather carelessly with his walk. When James got closer to us, the orange and gold glow of the living room provided enough light to see the claw marks on his cheeks. He had been annoying Hedwig again. She attacked him again (and with good reason).

"I'm a few months from seventeen," James said with a scowl, "shouldn't we be talking about that celebration?"

Aunt Ginny scoffed loudly. "Boy, you're lucky you've made it to sixteen. And after all the stupid things you pulled this day alone, James—"

"If you want me to vacate the premises sooner, Ginevra, then say so. I'm always welcomed at Uncle Charlie's. Say the word and I'll be flying into a pitch of dragons by tomorrow morning."

The pink on Aunt Ginny's cheeks started turning red when Mum put a loving hand on James' chin. "Sweetheart," she said calmly, "put Hedwig back in Lily's room. You know she can't stand the noise."

"Mum or Hedwig?" James asked with a snort.

"Do as you are told, please," Mum then added. "It's Christmas. We don't want you to spend it in St. Mungo's, would we?"

James muttered something like it wouldn't be the first time, but he managed a genuine smile of obedience at my mother before heading for the staircase. 

"He drives me mad," Aunt Ginny said through clenched teeth. "If he did not look so much like the Potters, I'd swear they switched him at birth, Hermione. None of my children are little devils."

"Not that you are aware of, Aunt Gin," Hugo said. 

"And you've always been mad," said Dad. "Don't blame it on the kid."

I frowned at my father. "Don't provoke her, Dad. You know she'll end up maiming you."

"Again," said Uncle George, the flames of the Floo barely burning green when he jumped out. A grin on his face and a bottle of vodka in hand. "With my assistance, too."

Dad growled when Uncle George ruffled his red hair, jabbing a finger at the little pouch of his stomach.  "She's always been your favorite," he grunted as he tried to put distance between him and his older brother.

"Obviously," said Uncle George.

"Where's Aunt Angie?" I asked my uncle. "And Roxy and Freddie?"

"Got into a fight," said Uncle George with a laugh. "I had to get out of there before Angelina realized I gave Roxy the beater's bat she used to whack Freddie with. You know how your aunt gets, always threatening to take my good ear. Complete menace that woman."

"I think the men in this family have a type," Hugo said. 

"I'll say," Uncle George laughed. "The only one who isn't a nutter is Audrey."

"Maybe she is," Dad added. "She married Percy."

The three laughed with each other, giving Al the perfect opportunity to reach over and tug my arm. "Rose," he muttered urgently, "about that thing I've to tell you?"

I pulled myself out of his grip. "All right, you can say it without taking a limb."

"I think I made a mistake."

]"On the Ancient Runes essay? Merlin, I told you to pay attention in class, didn't I? You never listen. Come on, then. I'll look it over before dinner—"

"No, not the bloody homework," Al interrupted me. "I mean...I asked Evanna to be my girlfriend."

I kept waiting for his terrified expression to crumble away, laugh and tell me he was just joking, but it never came. "Oh," I said, clearing my throat. "Congratulations?"

Al groaned, turning around to hit his forehead on the marble railing of the staircase. "I'm an idiot."

"Yeah," I muttered.

He turned in angle, frowning at me.

"Well, you're the one who said it. I'm just agreeing."

"So you do think it was a bad call?"

"You going on a date with her was adorable, Al," I said, smoothing out the hem of my dress, "but asking her to be your girlfriend is just a desperate and selfish move that Nott did not deserve. If word around the lavatories is correct, not that I'm one to pay attention to such gossip," I clarified when he rose a brow at me, "then she really, really fancies you. A feeling you do not return."

He hit his forehead with the railing again. "I wouldn't say I do not fancy her at all," he mumbled. "I'm attracted to her."

"That doesn't count."

"It's all Nia's fault."

I smiled now, standing up straight. "Well," I said a little too loudly, a little too happily, "I never thought I'd hear you say that. I always assumed I would have to pry it out of you one day."

Al did not look pleased by my positive reaction. "Of course you knew."

"Of course," I grinned.

How could I not? Al and I were cousins, yes, but we were also best friends. Throughout our Hogwarts years we had drifted in and out of the friendship stage, but we never lost our connection. We knew each other much better than others knew us. I was perceptive of his train of thought because I had spend years picking it apart. 

As much as I pride myself in that, I could not be entirely sure he was not as perceptive of my own train of thought as I was to his. Al had just become mute about the things he picked up throughout the years. Something I was not sure I liked from him or not.

"How'd your date with Lysander Scamander go?" 

Merlin. He did know.

"Just friends," I muttered, trying to keep my voice even. "We both came to that conclusion early on."

"Wouldn't it be easier if that conclusion was wrong?" Al asked, turning over so he was finally looking at me.

"A lot easier, I assume," I told him. "Mum would have liked him."

"I bet," he said. "He ranks number three in school."

"And is less eccentric than his brother Lorcan."

Al frowned at the name. 

Aunt Ginny marched back in to the living room, her silk emerald dress flowing behind her. "Al," she said, "go warn Lily she has exactly one minute to leave her bedroom before she no longer has one."

Al nodded once before heading up the staircase, his footsteps a lot heavier.

"Why are you all so moody?" Aunt Ginny asked me. "We weren't at your age."

I tried to smile at my aunt. "Well, you were at war. There was not a lot of room for hormone-driven dramas."

"I could tell you a few about your parents, actually," she said with a small laugh. "Honestly, though, Teddy never gave me such grief. He was always happy."

Teddy drank a lot during his time at Hogwarts, but that was not something I wanted to tell his adoptive mother. Instead, I said, "You look great, Aunt Ginny."

Aunt Ginny was not an idiot, but still decided to smile at me. That was one of her many qualities, she never pushed. She always waited for you to come to her. 

 "As do you, sweetheart," she said to me. "Is that eyeliner I see? That's a first. It looks lovely, of course."

I wanted to hit myself on the head as Al had previously done. He got his perceptive skills from his mother. Aunt Ginny never pushed, but she knew. 

As it was fate, the fire place roared with green flames that spewed out a silver-eyed reason why I fussed over my makeup and dress for. Scorpius looked as handsome as always, with his pressed suit and perfectly unkempt hair that fell over his eyes.  

I was sure you could hear my heartbeat pick up an aggressive pace when our eyes locked, but thankfully, he had not shown up alone (not that I was keen to notice the rest of the world when he was around). 

"Astoria," Aunt Ginny greeted happily at the beautiful, tall regal woman behind Scorpius. "I'm glad you could make it."

"Malfoy," Mum sniffed at the blonde, silver-eyed man that resembled Scorpius so. 

"Granger," Mister Malfoy returned with a clearing of his throat. He raised his chin at my mother, but there was a twinkle in his eye I doubt came from the golden glow of the room.

"It's Weasley," Mum reminded with a tired sigh. "You know this."

"I try to forget it, actually," Mister Malfoy said before Mrs. Malfoy ever so discreetly nudged him with her elbow. "Thanks for the invitation," he then directed his words at my Aunt Ginny.

"Scorpius!" Al greeted loudly from the top of the staircase. He wasted no time in rushing down the flight of stairs, grinning like all his woes were nonexistent now that his best friend was near. 

Turning his silver eyes from me, Scorpius returned my cousin's grin when the two hugged in greeting. "What were you doing up there, mate? Fixing yourself up for me?"

Al punched his shoulder. "I was going to wear a dress, but Rose took it."

Silver eyes flashed at me again, making something sing in my bloodstream. "Good thing, I reckon," he said, "she looks beautiful."

Never was there a time I was more grateful to be a part of such a meddling, huge, outrageous family than in that moment. Scorpius had gave his compliment to me, but we had a crowd around us. I could feel his father's and my mother's eyes on me, searching for a reaction, but luckily, Uncle Harry stumbled into the living room from the kitchen door.

"Hermione," he had said, "George is torturing Ron with a spider again. He's hiding in Al's old tree house and...." 

He stopped when he finally noticed his guests.

"I am not! Harry's lying, Mum! You know I would never—" Uncle George bumped into Uncle Harry, stopping his far-fetched defense and adopting his famous grin. "Thought Mum had Flooed in. Thanks for that, Malfoys."

Mister Malfoy cleared his throat. "Right. Happy to assist."

Uncle Harry scratched his head, looking uncomfortable as the former.

The silence formed, but it was broken by the loud cries of my father coming from the garden outside. "Get it off me! Get it off!"

It wasn't a Weasley Christmas without someone crying, after all.