even more
More! This might be the longest chapter yet, even.
Chapter 10
February 14, 2009
Brian had seen Isabel at breakfast, but she’d been mysteriously absent from classes that morning, and when she didn’t show up at lunch, he’d begun to get worried. Class was just as important to Isabel as it was to him; they both fell drastically behind if they were even ten minutes late. Afraid she’d fallen ill, Brian had first checked the hospital wing, but Madame Russiani had turned him away, saying she hadn’t seen her yet.
“Anyway, it was last week,” she said flippantly. Brian didn’t bother to ask what she meant; he had to find Isabel.
Class was due to start in five minutes, but Brian returned to the Hufflepuff common room. He was immediately greeted by Jerry, Isabel’s fat ginger tabby. The feline wrapped himself around Brian’s ankles as he stumbled into the common area. It was empty except for -
There she was. She was curled up on the couch near the fire, wrapped in a fleecy throw blanket, hiding her face with her hands. Brian knew that Isabel was sometimes prone to crying - she was a very sensitive girl, and apt to stress out on occasion - but never had he seen her look so miserable.
“Isabel,” he said softly as he approached.
“Go away, Brian,” she sniffled, not even bothering to look up. There was a crumpled, torn, glittery valentine on the floor by her feet, evidence of a broken heart on the worst day of the year.
Brian nearly obeyed her request. He turned to leave, but then was gripped by the urge to crouch down and embrace her, holding her close in his arms. It may have been the need to comfort an upset friend… it may have been hormones… but Brian realized then that the way he felt about Isabel was something much more than either of those. Without hesitation, he followed that urge, kneeling down beside the couch and wrapping her in his arms.
“Brian,” Isabel whispered, half-whine, half-warning.
“Isabel, it’s okay,” Brian said, ignoring her and squeezing her tighter. “You don’t have to tell me. You don’t have to talk.”
The tears poured out of Isabel’s eyes unstoppably. She bent her head and nestled it against his head, placing the weight of all her concerns on Brian’s shoulder - physically, anyway, if not mentally or emotionally.
At this moment Brian could remember every experience he’d ever had with Isabel Pepper. It was as though his life were flashing before his eyes - the feeling in his heart did almost feel like he was dying. He guessed, then, that this is what people might call love, although he didn’t dare speak aloud his suspicion.
The first time he saw Isabel was on the train to Hogwarts for the very first time. He’d passed her sitting alone in a compartment, and he could recall thinking that she looked far too young to be going away to school. He himself was going to be twelve in two short days, figuring he was the oldest one in his year. Isabel, on the other hand, had only just turned eleven. He was surprised to see that they were sorted into the same house once they reached school, and as that first semester went on he learned that they had much more in common than yellow-and-black scarves.
Of course, most of his knowledge about her he gleaned from other sources. Isabel was always very reluctant to talk about herself, trying to focus on studying and homework. It made Brian smile to think that they were both horrid at practically every subject but Herbology. He found out from Madame Noire that her mother had died when she was young, and she’d been raised a Muggle though she was a halfblood. It was remarkably similar to his own situation.
It was their cats that initially made them socialize. George and Jerry were both old, fat felines, and thus typically preferred each other’s company to that of the myriad kittens in the common room. Then, once thus introduced, they started struggling with their assignments together. At first Brian simply enjoyed this time together. Then he found himself looking forward to it. Once, that first year, the thought Isabel is really pretty entered his head, a thought which he immediately banished but was quickly replaced by dozens of others: Isabel is nice… Isabel is cute… Isabel is sweet… Isabel should wear her hair down more often….
Then, that spring, Isabel had gotten very ill. She spent most of the month of March in the hospital wing, no visitors allowed. He found himself missing her, even to the point where he began writing her letters that she could read in bed. He took care of Jerry. Even once she was allowed out she still returned to the hospital wing routinely for check-ups with Madame Russiani. Thoughts about her continued to bother him (I wish Isabel were here… Isabel would like what’s for dinner tonight…). Still, Brian suppressed these thoughts until he was suckerpunched by the thought I LIKE ISABEL PEPPER in capital letters.
And, at this moment, hugging a crying Isabel close to him, now he understood that I LIKE ISABEL PEPPER had become I LOVE ISABEL PEPPER.
He didn’t care if she was sick. He didn’t care that she was shy and sensitive. He didn’t care that, right now, the collar of his shirt was soaked. He would have told her how he felt right then, but even though he could be loud and friendly and enthusiastic and all those other things, he was seized by a strong fear that perhaps his love would push her away, and so he kept his mouth shut and held her closer.
Chapter 10
February 14, 2009
Brian had seen Isabel at breakfast, but she’d been mysteriously absent from classes that morning, and when she didn’t show up at lunch, he’d begun to get worried. Class was just as important to Isabel as it was to him; they both fell drastically behind if they were even ten minutes late. Afraid she’d fallen ill, Brian had first checked the hospital wing, but Madame Russiani had turned him away, saying she hadn’t seen her yet.
“Anyway, it was last week,” she said flippantly. Brian didn’t bother to ask what she meant; he had to find Isabel.
Class was due to start in five minutes, but Brian returned to the Hufflepuff common room. He was immediately greeted by Jerry, Isabel’s fat ginger tabby. The feline wrapped himself around Brian’s ankles as he stumbled into the common area. It was empty except for -
There she was. She was curled up on the couch near the fire, wrapped in a fleecy throw blanket, hiding her face with her hands. Brian knew that Isabel was sometimes prone to crying - she was a very sensitive girl, and apt to stress out on occasion - but never had he seen her look so miserable.
“Isabel,” he said softly as he approached.
“Go away, Brian,” she sniffled, not even bothering to look up. There was a crumpled, torn, glittery valentine on the floor by her feet, evidence of a broken heart on the worst day of the year.
Brian nearly obeyed her request. He turned to leave, but then was gripped by the urge to crouch down and embrace her, holding her close in his arms. It may have been the need to comfort an upset friend… it may have been hormones… but Brian realized then that the way he felt about Isabel was something much more than either of those. Without hesitation, he followed that urge, kneeling down beside the couch and wrapping her in his arms.
“Brian,” Isabel whispered, half-whine, half-warning.
“Isabel, it’s okay,” Brian said, ignoring her and squeezing her tighter. “You don’t have to tell me. You don’t have to talk.”
The tears poured out of Isabel’s eyes unstoppably. She bent her head and nestled it against his head, placing the weight of all her concerns on Brian’s shoulder - physically, anyway, if not mentally or emotionally.
At this moment Brian could remember every experience he’d ever had with Isabel Pepper. It was as though his life were flashing before his eyes - the feeling in his heart did almost feel like he was dying. He guessed, then, that this is what people might call love, although he didn’t dare speak aloud his suspicion.
The first time he saw Isabel was on the train to Hogwarts for the very first time. He’d passed her sitting alone in a compartment, and he could recall thinking that she looked far too young to be going away to school. He himself was going to be twelve in two short days, figuring he was the oldest one in his year. Isabel, on the other hand, had only just turned eleven. He was surprised to see that they were sorted into the same house once they reached school, and as that first semester went on he learned that they had much more in common than yellow-and-black scarves.
Of course, most of his knowledge about her he gleaned from other sources. Isabel was always very reluctant to talk about herself, trying to focus on studying and homework. It made Brian smile to think that they were both horrid at practically every subject but Herbology. He found out from Madame Noire that her mother had died when she was young, and she’d been raised a Muggle though she was a halfblood. It was remarkably similar to his own situation.
It was their cats that initially made them socialize. George and Jerry were both old, fat felines, and thus typically preferred each other’s company to that of the myriad kittens in the common room. Then, once thus introduced, they started struggling with their assignments together. At first Brian simply enjoyed this time together. Then he found himself looking forward to it. Once, that first year, the thought Isabel is really pretty entered his head, a thought which he immediately banished but was quickly replaced by dozens of others: Isabel is nice… Isabel is cute… Isabel is sweet… Isabel should wear her hair down more often….
Then, that spring, Isabel had gotten very ill. She spent most of the month of March in the hospital wing, no visitors allowed. He found himself missing her, even to the point where he began writing her letters that she could read in bed. He took care of Jerry. Even once she was allowed out she still returned to the hospital wing routinely for check-ups with Madame Russiani. Thoughts about her continued to bother him (I wish Isabel were here… Isabel would like what’s for dinner tonight…). Still, Brian suppressed these thoughts until he was suckerpunched by the thought I LIKE ISABEL PEPPER in capital letters.
And, at this moment, hugging a crying Isabel close to him, now he understood that I LIKE ISABEL PEPPER had become I LOVE ISABEL PEPPER.
He didn’t care if she was sick. He didn’t care that she was shy and sensitive. He didn’t care that, right now, the collar of his shirt was soaked. He would have told her how he felt right then, but even though he could be loud and friendly and enthusiastic and all those other things, he was seized by a strong fear that perhaps his love would push her away, and so he kept his mouth shut and held her closer.