iridescent | billie

He didn’t understand.

Which was completely fair, a voice inside her said, because she wasn’t doing a good job of explaining it. Internally, Billie was spinning. Maybe she’d been on the edge of this kind of panic for a month now, and has just been pushing it down and away? Maybe it was just a today thing, or a hormones thing, or maybe she was just particularly frail-minded today? She felt too hot, suddenly, and her heart was beating a little quicker.

“I need to get a good grade to get into the NEWT class,” she said, her voice sounding distant to her own ears. “Because if I don’t get a grade for defense, I won’t get into healing school.” A desire she still hadn’t shared with anyone but him. Not even Kendrick. Billie covered her mouth with her hands, trying to slow her breathing.

Her fears escalated step by step in her head: If she couldn’t get a good grade, she couldn't take the class to NEWT level. Without a NEWT in defense, she couldn’t become a healer. If she wasn’t studying after school – if she didn’t have a clear, structured path – she’d be untethered. It wasn’t like Kendrick would let her live with him into her adulthood: she was his ward, not his daughter.

There was a stinging sensation behind her eyes. “There’s so much to do,” she breathed, moving her hands methodically to fix her hair, then smooth the material of her shirt.

Phillip could sense there was more going on in Billie's thoughts than she was telling him. He could see how anxious she was; it was written all over her face. The anxiety, and the exhaustion, and the worry. It made him nervous but also put him into overdrive. Phillip knew she wanted to become a healer after Hogwarts, but 'after Hogwarts' had always sounded so far away for Billie. Phillip was the one graduating, she still had two and a half terms to go, but that wasn't how it worked in the wizarding world. If she wanted to be prepared and to get into the best program, she had to start now, Phillip missed his chances, and he'd paid for that for the rest of his life. He didn't understand the pressure she felt because he had ignored them during his fifth year. He'd done well enough, but that was based on luck and natural ability, not because he had a plan.

"I know," Phillip didn't really understand all of the things that were pulling at her. He couldn't, and not just because she wasn't explaining them fully, but because he didn't put as much stock into things as she did. Social expectations were nonexistent for the wizard. Other than Billie, he had very few friends, and the ones he somehow managed to keep, like Winifred and Eleanora, had grown accustomed to his lack of social etiquette a long time ago. On top of everything, Billie was also a perfect, and a mentor, and who knew how many other extracurriculars she was padding her Dily's application with. It was too much for anyone to deal with, but Phillip didn't know if there was anything he could do to help. He couldn't take any of those things on for her, and he had learned that trying to convince her to drop something wasn't going to work.

With a sigh, Phillip spoke after a moment, "As much as I hate platitudes, this one happens to be true; if anyone can do all of that, Billie, it's you," She was a gifted witch with a beautiful mind and more emotional intelligence than Phillip could ever understand. Billie was dedicated, motivated, and without hubris. And as rare as it was, Phillip had absolute faith in her.

Billie had to resist nervously asking for the time; there didn't appear to be a wall clock in this room. I know. She didn’t think he did. Again, though, probably largely because she didn’t spend too much time talking about it. The way she spent her time had been a somewhat contentious issue of late, one she’d avoided because she didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable, or unwanted. She didn’t want him to feel like he was just another stress factor in his life, because he wasn’t! Sure, she’d been feeling more and more anxious about trying to keep him happy lately, but the worry was all on her side of things; it was her fault.

“I’m not sure that that’s true,” she said, and then – horrifyingly – she started crying. Billie put her face in her hands and shook her head once. It felt overwhelming. Impossible. It was so much more than difficulty with a charm, it was a need to keep everybody happy, fear of failure. Fear in a more general sense, too; fear of the future, and his impending graduation and her post-school plans. All of her anxieties bubbled up inside of her at once, and she half turned away from him, feeling ashamed to have asked him here only to have what felt like some kind of break down. She couldn't seem to get a proper breath, but she cried like she did anything else; quietly, and with conviction.

Phillip hated what he was saying before saying it, but that didn't mean it wasn't true. He felt like he was placating her with nonsense, using some kind of platitude, but he didn't know what else to say. She was clearly upset, and he really did believe in her, but what were those words worth? It didn't feel authentic, and when she covered her face, he began to realize it hadn't been helpful either. Phillip moved from the desk when she began to cry, his frown deepening as he crossed the room to meet her.

Wrapping his arms around her, Phillip waited a moment, breathing slowly and quietly, before finally speaking. "I'm sorry you are dealing with so much all at once..." He spoke softly, his head resting above hers and one hand moving slowly down her back. Phillip knew she was overwhelmed, but until this moment, he hadn't fully understood why. As it began to sink in, the teenager felt his heart drop. He knew he was part of the problem, but he wasn't going to let go, and he knew she wasn't going to give up anything else. As much as he wanted to have the solution, the Ravenclaw knew this wasn't simple arithmetic. Words wouldn't solve it, and unless he could stop time for her, there wasn't a lot he could do besides be there and be supportive.

Could he figure out how to do that?

Billie felt his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. She didn’t protest, even though his comforting came with a swell of guilt. “I’m sorry,” she breathed, almost at the same time he did. She barely noticed it, her thoughts fixating so acutely on the tangled up web of pressures she was feeling. The blonde tried to catch her breath, but her chest was tight and she only seemed to be able to breathe in short, silent gasps, while tears streamed down her cheeks. Her face remained firmly in her hands, resting on his chest.

Her words came between uneven breaths. “I’m not doing... a good job... of anything, am I,” she said, but the question was sad and clearly rhetorical – a flustered and despairing expression of her feelings, rather than something that needed an answer. “I’m sorry,” she whispered again, trying and failing to get her breathing under control. “You shouldn’t have to… I didn’t mean to…” her thoughts were scattered and her voice was muffled against his chest.

"No, don't say that,," Phillip had begun to say but cut himself off before he finished the sentence. Something about Billie crying made him feel out of sorts. This was far from the first time they had shared something deep, he'd seen her cry before, but this wasn't the same as those times. Every other time Phillip had felt firmly on the right side of it, next to her, helping, not a part of the problem. Now he felt like he was part of the reason she was crying, and the wizard was fairly certain he had never felt anything worse in his whole life. The idea that he had hurt her, that he had put extra stress on Billie when he should have been helping her navigate what she was already dealing with, was awful. Like a knot in his stomach.

Phillip never felt the need to say things around Billie just so that one of them was talking. He enjoyed the comfortable silence they so often shared, but right about now, he really wished he was the kind of person who knew what to say. Wished there was something he could do that would make her feel better and fix everything. Life wasn't simple like that, and he was all too aware of it.

"What can I do?" He asked; instead, feeling lost and helpless was not something Phillip cared for. "How can I help?" Phillip whispered, his head resting softly on top of hers as they stood closely. The Ravenclaw went down the list of things he assumed were weighing on her and tried to think of things he could do to fix them, but none of it needed 'fixing'; Billie just needed more time to deal with them all. He couldn't stop himself from wanting to be around her all the time, and he wasn't going to try, but maybe he could be a little more patient and a little less demanding. She deserved a lot more than that, though.

“I don’t know,” she breathed, into his clothes, her eyes shut tightly. Then, a moment later: “No, it’s my fault. I just, just have to—“ She felt frustrated at herself for losing it. Frustrated that she couldn’t seem to get a whole lungful of air. “Just. Have to focus. Better,” she finished lamely, her words staggered and uneven between rapid breaths. She pressed herself into him, his clothes absorbing her tears. She felt guilty for that.

It was dramatic, and she knew it. But it didn’t seem to shift the feeling.

If she didn’t do well in her defense OWL, she wouldn’t be able to take the class to NEWT level.
If she couldn’t get a NEWT in defense, she couldn’t get into healing school.
If she didn’t have a solid plan for after school, her whole future would be ruined.

Would Kendrick let her live with him after she graduated? No. She supposed she could live in her aunt’s old house, alone and in the middle of nowhere. What other kinds of jobs could she look for? What was she good at? Their age gap flitted in and out of her mind from time to time when it was or wasn’t relevant, but she really felt the disparity right now; what was she going to do after Phillip graduated? Two years of not being able to see him every day? Would he really wait for her, when his life was actually happening and she was just a stupid schoolgirl — one who couldn’t even cast a basic protego when she needed to?

Then there was the other stuff. The stuff that had caused problems. Could he bear to only see her on Hogsmeade weekends, knowing she was at school with her friends? One Gryffindor boy in particular? Billie couldn’t see a way to keep everyone happy, even if she put herself at the very end of that list, which was exactly what she did, whenever possible. "I'm so stupid," she whispered, mostly to herself.

Phillip wanted to say the right thing, to make her feel better or somehow ease the stress she was so obviously suffering under, but he was lost. Despite how much he loved her, Phillip was not a very good friend. Instead of trying to say anything (and potentially failing miserably), Phillip just pulled her in closer. His hands fell a little, wrapping around her waist as she buried her face into his chest. They had spent hours like this over the summer, but she had never been crying. When saying goodbye was the most significant worry they had. Phillip thought of the long goodbyes on the steps up to the porch; everything had been so much easier then.

And while he couldn't stop time or lighten her schedule, Phillip still wanted to help. Her classes were challenging; he knew because he had taken them two years ago, but she couldn't drop out of them. Phillip didn't know what to say, but the wizard could be here for her. And maybe he could even help her master the Protego spell. He wasn't a good friend or a good student, but he was rather intelligent. Billie whispered something against his shirt, but Phillip couldn't tell what it was. He pulled away slightly, his hands still had her waist, and gave her a puzzled look. "Huh?" He asked, wanting so badly to see Billie look up at him without tears in her eyes.

Phillip thought to ask if she wanted to try the spell again. Emotional control was half of any charm, though, and he was aware of that fact. Maybe she wasn't ready or wanted to stop for the day, so many maybes, so Phillip said nothing.

Her eyes were squeezed shut, her hands on his chest, curled into the material of his shirt. She still couldn’t get a lungful of air, her heart was still racing and she felt like she was zooming out of herself somehow, experiencing everything from a progressively further step back from reality. It was very overwhelming for the witch.

Billie buried her face deeper into his shirt, her thoughts chasing themselves around in her head endlessly. She felt like she was stuck in a catastrophic thought cycle — with lots of sections repeating themselves — but also that thinking about anything else was currently really difficult. She pressed her forehead against his chest, like if she just pressed a little harder she could push herself out of her head, or something. If he said anything, she didn’t hear it.

LATER  ——

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been in that space; it hadn’t felt like time had passed the right way until, well, until now. Or something. And Billie felt tired now.

“Thank you,” Billie said, blinking as he pressed a mug of, what was that, water? Into her hands. She didn’t remember him leaving — had he conjured that? Gotten it from his bag? She really had no idea, and was too tired to ask. She brought it to her lips obediently, took a small sip, then lowered the mug to her lap. “I’m sorry,” she said, though it must have been the ten millionth time she’d said it in the past… Well, this afternoon, anyway. Billie wiped her eyes again, but she wasn’t crying anymore.

They were quiet for a while, Billie pressed against his chest, and Phillip was careful not to move too much. His hands around her back, Phillip's thumbs brushing lightly in a repetitive motion, the teenager could feel her calming down. Then, when he'd thought it had been enough time, he moved away, the cold air shifting to hit his chest, and Phillip conjured some water.


They had been standing like this for a while now, quiet and close. And Phillip wondered if she was feeling better. He hadn't realized how anxious he had felt when they were practicing or when she had initially broken down, but every second with Billie pressed up against his chest calmed him down. Phillip's hands had moved around her, his thumbs brushing against her back in a light repetitive motion. After a while, Phillip realized they were swaying a little, standing too still, knees locked, and he gave her a little squeeze.

When the wizard moved away, a rush of cold air replaced the warmth from embracing Billie, and Phillip felt little goosebumps pop up on his arms. He busied himself summoning a cup and conjuring some water, easy enough spells for a seventh year, but he was careful not to make it look too easy; some part of his brain convinced him that was the sympathetic thing to do. Finally, Billie spoke, and Phillip paused to look at her as she took the cup from his hands. And then he shook his head and replied. "You have nothing to apologize for."

She was sitting down now, her gaze a little unfocused. She still felt distant, but more than that she felt tired. She licked her lips. “I don’t know…” She started slowly. It wasn’t the first time she’d felt so overwhelmed she’d felt like that, but it was the first time when someone else was around. Billie sighed. “I just felt really stressed.” She looked down at the water in her lap, held between two hands, then raised it again and took another compliant sip.

She looked slowly to her right, then her left, and felt like she was only just really remembering where she was. It was disorienting. She sighed again. Once again, she found  herself wishing for somewhere they could really relax away from school — a two-seater couch on a small back porch, maybe. Overlooking a field, maybe.

Billie glanced out of the window, her eyes following the trails of water mixed with sleet as they dragged down the glass. Maybe not outside, then. Maybe somewhere cosier. The Maidstone house had a fireplace, she thought distantly. Not that they’d ever used it when they were there in the summer, of course. It would be cold during the break, though.

Her head was hurting now, from tension or crying or something. She had a couple of little vials in her bedside table in her dorm for that. "I think I need to lie down," she breathed, looking back at him. "Would you come with me back to the tower?” She assumed he would, but already felt guilty for cutting their session short. She was too busy to flake out like this.

Phillip knew he was part of the problem; he knew that he had added to the things that made her feel really stressed. And that realization ate at him, gnawing uncomfortably in the back of his mind even though he knew he needed to focus on her right now. Billie was under a lot of pressure, and as her boyfriend, he was supposed to support her so that she would never have to carry the stress alone. And yet, he had done the opposite. What a jerk, he thought of himself and frowned as she looked away.

Stuck somewhere between self-centered and absolutely in love with her was like a bit of war in his mind. Phillip was jealous and paranoid, he demanded too much, but when he realized what it did to Billie, he felt the sudden and overwhelming urge to change his entire personality. It would never stick, but at this moment, he was desperate to be a better boyfriend, a better person. And Billie was the only person in the entire world that could garner such a reaction from the typically stubborn teenager. Whether it was true in the long run or not, right then, Phillip felt like he would be willing to change everything about himself if it made her even the slightest bit happier.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” he said quickly, hurrying to gather up their books and things. He was careful as he packed her bag and then shoved his things messily into his own and slung them both over his shoulder. “Hopefully, it’s not too crowded right now,” He was still trying to be supportive, but some parts of Phillips's disdainful personality were always bound to bleed through, and he still hated crowds. Even like-minded, typically anti-social Ravenclaw crowds.