38 ~ My own Life

Some mistakes are recognised only when the damage is done

Phil's POV:

     "Phil!" I heard someone call behind me and rolled my eyes. I did not pay the call any attention, because I knew who it came from.I kept walking along the path to the gamekeeper's hut, Lily, Alice and Dorcas beside me. The three of them, however, looked back and watched Potter, who was almost rolling down the slope.     It was Monday and the day before yesterday I had argued with the Marauders. I had not told the girls about it yet, because on Saturday I had still been with Dumbledore. Since that day the matter with my father had been following me and I had completely forgotten that I currently could not stand the Marauders, that they had hurt me with their words. The intention behind their words did not matter to me, because it always depended on the way those words were delivered.

Words simply cannot be taken back.

     "Phil!" Now Potter had caught up with Pettigrew, since Black and Lupin did not attend Care of Magical Creatures. I was glad about that as well, because those two in particular were the ones I did not want to see.     In the following moment the tension among all of us grew, even though the girls were confused. They at least knew that I was upset. I had told them about neither of the two events, because Dumbledore had told me that I was not allowed to tell anyone about my father. Besides the Ministry, my father had many other enemies, and if it became known that he was alive, he could quickly be forced to retreat again. I did not know what Dumbledore's goal was, but I trusted him more than anyone else I knew.     The fact that I was planning to misuse Dumbledore's trust hurt all the more because of that. The wise wizard would never allow me to seek contact with my father in order to get answers. But I wanted answers.     Since childhood I had carried this curse with me. Now my father had told me that I did not know everything, knew nothing about my nature. A nature that he had created.     Yes, I hated him, but I also had to bring my inner war to an end. Only he could explain to me why I existed in this world the way I did.

Can only he tell me the truth, I asked myself, but received no answer.

     That was why everything inside me was tense, and I did not need Potter and Pettigrew at my back. I needed no one who tried to interfere in my life.     Everyone had interfered in my life again and again; my father, who had given me this curse without asking; my mother, who had decided how I was supposed to grow up, and according to the letter from my father she had never wanted to send me to Hogwarts; my stepfather, who had had to control everything; and now finally the boys and girls, who annoyed me because of my conversations with Lestrange. The girls had stopped, but I had absolutely no patience left for people who wanted to interfere in my life without being asked.

It is my, yes, my own life, damn it!

     "Phil, please, let us talk," Potter's voice spoke to my right and the questioning looks of the girls drilled into my skin. My gaze, however, remained stubbornly fixed ahead. The girls could already guess that the boys had done something wrong. Surprisingly, Potter did not even address Lily, which made the urgency of their approach clear.     "Phil makes it clear that she does not want to talk to you," Lily said, and although she did not know what had happened, she defended me. Immediately I felt bad that I had not told her anything.     "Thanks, I can see that," Potter replied slightly mockingly, then turned back to me, "Please, let all of us talk about it once more"          "Have you not said everything already?" I asked dryly, "Black gave quite an impressive speech about how well you all know me?"     My voice sounded cold and I looked at the boy with glasses. When I had mentioned his friend Black, his face had twisted. Whenever I was alone with the boys, usually at full moon, or in Potions, I called them by their first names. So it was serious when I switched to surnames.     "We want to apologise to you," Potter made clear and the girls listened with interest, but did not interfere. I knew, however, that after this conversation I would have to tell them about what had happened with the boys.          "Oh, let's assume I am as naive as you believe I am and listen to your apology, what would it bring me?" I raised a brow, "What would it bring me, hm? When you spoke to me, you were so confident that I cannot imagine your apology bringing me anything, that you truly mean it. Your words hurt me, rather your assumptions. An apology will not change that, so I will repeat myself: stay out of my life."     With those words I took my gaze away from Potter's brown eyes, then gave Pettigrew a look that kept his friend from continuing to walk beside me. The two of them fell back. The girls looked at me in confusion.     I breathed in and out. On the way to the lesson I gave them a short version. That I had been told that I had finally learned the true face of the Marauders had been expected. However, whether the girls were right, I did not know. It certainly felt that way, even though it hurt in my heart.

Remus' POV:

     "Stop right there!"     The boys and I stopped in the corridor. Lunch had just finished and we now had two hours of Defence Against the Dark Arts, but a certain Lily Evans wanted something from us. She came around the corner with her friends, McKinnon and Summer were there as well. The former received a wink from Padfoot, which she returned with a shy smile.     Yes, somehow over the last month he had managed to get her to give him a chance, which, with Lily as a friend, bordered on a miracle. Sirius had told us that McKinnon was not interested in anything serious either, but it did not matter to me.     "What do you want, Evans?" Sirius asked and was as charming as ever. The next moment she stopped in front of us, her friends remained behind her.          "You know what I want, Black."     "I can't offer you my body in the middle of the corridor right now, Evans."          "Argh!" came the threatening response.     Prongs jabbed Padfoot with his elbow between the ribs. It was obvious that Lily was here to give us a lecture about the matter with Phil.     "We know why you're here," I said therefore, and green eyes met mine.          "Good, then I only have to say that you should leave Phil alone and that you're arseholes."     "Thanks," Padfoot replied dryly, looking at her, "but not even you can deny that Lestrange is not good company for Phil. You are Phil's friend."     For a moment Lily thought about those words. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest and her red hair framed her face.          "That is also Phil's decision, Black. Objectively, the name Lestrange does not appeal to me, but not all Slytherins are bad, and yes, I am saying that. I was friends with Severus, but just because our friendship ended does not mean I will now see him as a completely bad person, as a deceitful snake. Yes, the rivalry between the houses has its reasons, but you are no angels either. You do not know much about this Lestrange, and neither do I. However, after her account, you do not seem to know much about Phil either. Follow her words and stay out of her life. If not, then we will make your lives difficult, and yes, that is a threat."     I looked at the Gryffindor. Afterwards she turned around and went back to her friends.     "We really messed it up this time..." Prongs muttered, and he was absolutely right.

     And so the day passed. I was still cursing myself. I felt bad that we had treated Phil like that, because it truly was her own life.          Why I always felt the need to take care of Phil, however, I did not know. Since the day she had arrived at Hogwarts, I had felt the urge to help her. It had taken a long time before Phil had even started talking to me at all, properly. She was not shy - yes, I had realised my mistake -, she had been cautious the entire time.     But as I said, I could curse myself, would rather throw myself off the Astronomy Tower. My current mood would match that, which was also why I could barely stand my friends anymore.     It was still Monday. During dinner Prongs and Padfoot had again come up with ways in which we could apologise to Phil. They did not understand that she did not want to see us.     Unfortunately, I did not understand it either, because after dinner I was on my way to the library to return books. Okay, I was on my way to the library because I had overheard the conversation between Lily and Phil. During dinner in the Great Hall they had walked past us and Phil had told Lily that she wanted to go to the library, alone.     So yes, I was no better than my friends, because I was looking for Phil. My reason advised against it, but not my heart.

I have to apologise, even if she does not want to see me.

     I could not get the expression of hurt off her face out of my memory, when she had started talking about her past and had been hurt by our words. She had guessed our intentions. In that conversation in the courtyard she had understood that we had seen her as a girl who often needed help. We had probably formed that image of Phil because we had seen her only once at the end of her strength.

Of course, the image of helpless, naive Phil had been wrong.

     But it was useless to keep thinking about the same thing again and again. For that reason I lifted my gaze forward and entered the library. Madame Stuart was just making her rounds, with her crooked back, but I did not pay attention to her.     I walked past shelf after shelf, searching for a head of red hair. Phil's almost fiery red hair was impossible to miss and I found her quickly. She was sitting, as always, at the back of the library, where there were a few single desks between the rows of shelves. The Restricted Section was also located at the back and further towards the centre there were stairs on both sides that led upwards to the next floor. However, it was not a full floor but rather a small path running around the library with more shelves. This second level could also be reached from the fourth floor, where there was the eastern and western study room. Upstairs there were mostly books that were not needed for lessons, but that did not matter, because Phil came into my view.     She was sitting beside a window, packing her things together.          I had arrived in time.     My eyes watched her. Slowly I moved closer. No one else except us was here and in the next moment Phil noticed me. She became aware of my presence and for a moment she startled. Calm returned to her face immediately afterwards. Interestingly, there was not much anger visible. More hurt and disappointment.

Yes, worse.

     Without saying anything, I stepped closer to her, then quietly raised my voice: "Please, let us talk."          She continued to look at me with her blue eyes. Phil stepped closer, and when she stood in front of me, I had to look down at her. She tilted her head back slightly.     "But I do not want to talk," she made clear and tried to walk past me, which I could not allow. Quickly I stepped in front of her and out of reflex I held her by the upper arms, gently turning her with her back towards the wall. Her body tensed because of the touch, so I let go of her. My right hand, however, remained against the bookshelf.     Phil's eyes examined my hand, then she looked at me expectantly, though she did not seem convinced, slightly startled. Perhaps only tense, because as had already been shown, I could not read her body language.     "I want to apologise, even if I know that they are only words," I said, studying her face, waiting for a reaction.          "Yes, they are only words," she repeated and I could not remember a single moment in which I had been this close to Phil, if I left aside the fact that I had already carried her twice to the hospital wing.     In that moment I realised that Phil had changed during her time at Hogwarts. She seemed more like a person, even though she had always been one. She seemed like Phil and not like the frightened girl who had appeared at full moon. I realised that I did not seem to know the real Phil at all.

But I want to get to know her, even if I do not know whether she will give me a chance to do so.

     In any case, Phil seemed more unfamiliar than usual. That made it easier for me to list all the mistakes that the boys and I had made.     "I know, only words," I said, "but I only want to tell you my words as well, if I may?"          A nod came in return, though a very small one.     "I know that it was not right that we told you what you should do about Lestrange. We should not have surrounded you and made assumptions. The two of us have spoken often, but the other Marauders less so. We behaved like complete idiots, as if we had any right to tell you what to do. We do not know you well, we have no right to determine your life. We also should not have made you angry, should not have provoked you. You told us something about your past, but it felt as if we had pushed you into doing that as well. I am sorry that my words hurt you. I only wanted to tell you that, you do not have to give me an answer."     I finished and lowered my hand. I looked Phil in the eyes and it had never really occurred to me how beautiful they were. They shone blue, just as her hair was of an intense red. Even in the dim library her hair appeared more red than brown.     "The problem is not that you were not allowed to tell me," her voice sounded, "You did it too often. You kept trying to get into my head, to explain to me that only you were right. Once would have been fine, maybe twice, but not so often and not like in the courtyard. You told me that I could always come to you if I had a problem. So why did you not come to me alone? Instead, you knew what Black is like when he talks about Elizabeth, what his family is like. A bit of thinking would have helped you discover the problem beforehand, before it escalated. Yes, Elizabeth may be a Lestrange, but you are friends with a Black. Just because someone is in Slytherin does not mean anything. Even my father was a Gryffindor, so you should have had prejudices against me as well. You were intrusive and it felt to me as if you wanted to control my life. I want to decide about my life myself, even if I make mistakes, without someone interfering beforehand. Your words hurt me and it will take time until I forgive you."     With those words she set herself in motion and I did not know whether I felt better or worse than before in that moment. Rather worse.