[hogsmeade] haunted pages ; the letters in between { phillip }

SEPTEMBER

They were well on their way to December – it had been a week since his birthday – and it was clear to everyone that there was no trace of summer left in the shorter, colder days. It had been raining all week; Billie wasn’t even sure they’d end up making it to Hogsmeade. It was nice to get out of school once in a while, but sometimes it didn’t feel worth the effort. Though perhaps that sentiment was driven mostly by how wildly busy she’d been lately. Between her prefect duties and her OWLs – not to mention the sickness that had been going around, even infecting her little SNAIL partner, Wendy – she hadn’t had a lot of spare time.

Billie tugged her cloak around her shoulders a little more tightly as she walked. She was running late, so her footsteps fell quickly. She caught sight of him in the distance, waiting in the cold by the gate, and she felt a tug of something.

There had been a bit of tension there recently, and Billie was at a loss for how to resolve it. Historically speaking, she’d always seemed to be the exception to Phillip’s bad moods – never the catalyst. From the very beginning, she’d always been open and soft, even when he wasn’t, and somehow that approach had seemed to find an echoing softness in him. She imagined that approaching Phillip in a bad mood with stubbornness would only be met with a brick wall – but then of course, she didn’t know for sure; she hadn’t tried.

Should she bring it up directly? The blonde wasn’t even sure what she could say, or what she’d be asking. There was a very real possibility that she was just reading into things, too. As much as she loved him – something that she hadn’t said out loud, but knew with absolute certainty – she always got a little scared when things were good, and she couldn’t really remember a time in her life that she’d been happier than now. Even after everything she’d lost. So, logically, there was a decent chance she was looking for problems, right? Just nerves or fear or anxiety.

As she approached him, though, she felt a very low but permeating sense of anxiety in the pit of her stomach. A mild nervousness. Guilt, maybe? She wasn’t sure. “Hey,” she said as she approached him, “I’m so sorry I’m late; we made a mess of our potions prac, and it took longer than I thought to clean things up after…” He was quiet, so she kept talking. “You know I’ll be fine with the theory, I’ve always been good at rote learning, but the practical part of the OWL…” She shook her head, trailing off.

“You haven’t waited long, have you?”

Phillip had been trying so hard to be patient with her. To understand all of the things she had going on. Phillip needed to realize that he was selfish for wanting all of her time to himself. It was easier said than done, but damn if he wasn't trying. Phillip had been a shitty Prefect, but he had been one, so he knew how much time the job had demanded (not that Phillip had taken it seriously, but he knew Billie would). And he knew she was studying for her OWLs, sure it was only November, but Phillip understood that it still weighed on her.

Not to mention the gaggle of new friends that seemed to sprout out of a ridiculously loud garden planter the last term. They were always around, okay, they weren't, but the now eighteen-year-old sure felt like they were. He could tell they didn't like him, well, the ones who spoke the most anyway, and he tried to act like he did not even care. Phillip didn't need their approval, but he supposed it would have made things a little easier on Billie if they could all spend time together, rather than the wizard demanding to remain separate. He should have been paying more attention to making things easier on Billie. Still, he was too preoccupied with being selfish, grumpy, and a little bit paranoid about one of her friends specifically.

Sitting on the half stone wall near the end of the Hogwarts grounds, Phillip tried to keep reading the small book he'd fished out of his pocket when she was five minutes late. Time ticked on, and he was so painfully aware of it. Billie wasn't late for things, and if ever she was, she always had a good reason, and the wizard reminded himself of that too, not that it helped at all. By the time she arrived, he didn't want to look at his watch. He didn't need any more reason to be irritable today, didn't need to know how late she was, but his eyes moved before his mind caught up to them. Sighing, he shrugged at her and the trailing end of her story.

"No, not long," He lied, and while it wasn't like she had stood him up or made him wait hours, Phillip felt like he had been waiting a lot lately. Waiting for her to have time to hang out with him, waiting for her to finish her Prefect duties, waiting for her not to be studying. "Do you still want to go?" He asked, his green eyes moving away from her face and toward the darkening skies. It was November, so sunshine was a lot to ask for, but it was growing later now, and he was sure it'd be dark by the time they even got to Hogsmeade.

“Oh. That’s good,” Billie answered, feeling a little breathless for no good reason. She waited for him to start walking, or elaborate, but then he looked away from her and up to the sky. There was clearly something wrong, and she didn’t know how to approach it at all. She felt compelled momentarily to keep talking about potions and OWLs, but was glad when he spoke first.
                                                     
“Yes… Unless you don’t,” she answered, a little hesitant. It was half a lie, though. They’d stayed up quite late talking last night, and she’d had to wake up early this morning too. She was tired, and she didn’t really want to go to the small village today, especially when they could be warm and comfortable in the Ravenclaw common room together. She could feel a dull sense of alarm somewhere in the back of her mind, though, and she answered before she even had time to process the question. I want whatever you want, said her eyes.

Tentatively, Billie started to walk. “How was your day?” she asked, feeling uncertain and falling back on safer conversational shores rather than ask what was wrong.

Phillip's face was cold, his eyes a bit distant, as she began to answer him with about as much hesitation as he felt. Maybe he was projecting because of the way he was feeling but Phillip couldn't shake the idea something had shifted between them. It wasn't an end of everything type of shift, but there was absolutely some sort of tension they had yet to face head-on. And it was uncomfortable.

He sighed again, shifting his weight as he stood up from the wall and tucked his book back into his overcoat. "Yeah, we can go," He answered her question without actually answering her question. He wanted to be around her, it was all he ever wanted, but the idea of walking through Hogsmeade together had even less appeal than it typically did.

Falling into step beside her Phillip kept reminding himself not to walk too fast so that she could keep up, and his hands slid defensively into the front pockets of his jacket. He should have been holding her hand, but it felt like it was miles away now, and he wasn't sure how to cross the distance.

"It was fine, the same as always," He said softly, and while his voice wasn't angry or dismissive, it certainly wasn't the usual tone he used with Billie. The one he saved just for Billie. "How was yours?" Phillip fought the urge to ask who she was working late on potions with, afraid to hear the answer he was pretty sure he already knew.

“Busy,” she answered honestly. She was quiet for a moment, not really sure if she should elaborate or not. Usually she could tell when he wanted silence and when he’d rather she fill it, even when he didn’t feel like talking. Billie was quiet for a little while before she started talking, feeling an unusual and confusing pressure to do so.

“Wendy’s still quite sick,” she said. “She went to the hospital wing again yesterday, and they gave her another pepperup potion, but she wasn’t feeling so good today.” Billie stole a glance at him, her gaze flicking to the hands he’d tucked into his jacket, then onto the ground ahead. “I’ll probably catch it at some point.” She adjusted the shoulders of her cloak once more, feeling a little self-conscious.

“I did some Defence theory this morning. It’s my weakest subject by far,” she admitted. She’d complained about potion-making this morning but really, her potions work was pretty good. She liked the precision of it; it was like cooking. Difficult to focus on that, though, when there was such a weird tenseness in the air.

As much as he wanted to let the irritation inside him blow away and have a regular conversation with his girlfriend, Phillip was starting to feel more and more like that wasn't going to be a possibility. He'd let things go; he'd pretended he didn't mind when she sat with Killian or the others who'd look at him and whisper things; he'd tried to keep the disappointment off his face when she told him she needed to study and wouldn't be able to meet him.

Phillip had never wanted to be around another person as much as he longed for Billie. They had been dating more than six months now, and that feeling hadn't even begun to fade, but he worried, the more time she left him with his paranoid thoughts, that maybe her feelings were changing. The Ravenclaw wanted to tell himself he was ridiculous, but he had never been able to shut out that pessimistic voice in the back of his head. He knew he didn't deserve her, she was way too kind for someone like him, and every moment they were apart, he was worried she'd realize it also. Her friends certainly already had.

Pushing the thoughts down, all of the worries shoved into the back of his mind to fester, Phillip slowed down his pace again. He hadn't noticed he had sped up again, his usually stride being much further and much faster than Billie's. "Yeah," He nodded. Phillip hadn't gotten it, and he hoped Billie wouldn't either; they both knew she didn't have the time to be laid up in the hospital wing.

"Have you begun passive defensive spells yet?" He asked, mildly curious and always interested in what she was saying, but there was a lack of enthusiasm in his voice, and it was apparent.

She could feel a part of herself wilting under his lack of enthusiasm. It was an overreaction, she was sure of it (perhaps he was just having a particularly bad day?), but whatever was happening… It didn’t feel good. He was walking more quickly, and she lengthened her too-short strides to keep up. She felt torn between clinging more tightly – proving, somehow, that she cared about him, or maybe complimenting him or, or kissing him – and giving him the space he seemed to be indicating that he wanted.

“Um, yes. I’m better at those than offensive spells, but still…” She shook her head. “I just, I need to do well if I want to be a healer,” she added, though that part was mostly to herself, with a hint of frustration in her tone. She didn’t have the time or energy to work harder, but she wouldn’t let herself slip, either. What would be sacrificed to make more time? She chanced another glance his way. Sleep, perhaps?

“Could you slow down a little?” she asked, the words slipping out despite her reluctance to say anything. "Please," she added, needing to soften her request.

Phillip hadn't meant to walk so fast, and after spending so much time with her over the last few years, it had become almost automatic to slow his paces when he walked with her, but today he was distracted. Consumed by worry and his bad mood and he instantly felt bad for taking it out on her. "Uh, yeah, sorry," He grimaced, slowing down to nearly stopping, and considering doing so, as he turned to look at her. "Didn't mean to," Phillip continued with a half shrug and then made more of an effort to walk at her speed.

The last thing he had wanted was to make her uncomfortable, they were supposed to be having fun, but this weirdness was starting to get to him. He wondered, by the way, she was speaking, if she was feeling it too, or if it all was in his head. Darkly, he asked himself if she even noticed, or if she was too busy for that also, but he pushed the thought away as quickly as it dared to surface. Billie did not deserve his negativity.

"I'm sure you will do great on your exams, I know you will," He finally said after a long pause, and his words rang true. Phillip had never doubted Billie would succeed. She was wildly brilliant and more dedicated than anyone he had ever met. Somehow she had figured out how to walk the line between motivation and obsession, something he had never learned, and her grades reflected that.

"I could help you study if you want?" He had offered before, and it wasn't like they had never spent evenings studying together, their noses in books, but this offer seemed strained. Phillip wanted so desperately to go back to the summer. They were able to hang out almost every day, far fewer distractions and responsibilities, and he missed the simplicity of it.

“Hope so,” Billie said, and she would have smiled at his compliment if it hadn’t been so long in between it and the last thing he’d said. Thankfully, he’d slowed down enough that she could keep up with him as he walked. They were just entering the village now, and Billie caught her reflection in a shop window. She frowned at herself a little, then looked ahead. “Phillip,” she started. He’d just asked about studying, but the strangeness between them was making her feel anxious.

“What did…” She trailed off, caught between asking what she’d done wrong and not wanting to center herself in the conversation. Had she done something wrong? Would he tell her if she had? “Are you okay?” She asked instead. She’d already asked how his day was, and if he answered with similar levels of specificity (same as always), then there wasn’t much else she could do. She already felt like she’d overstepped just by asking the three-word question at all. Being so direct wasn’t her usual style, and she had to look away to soften it.

Phillip considered telling her what was on his mind, he knew he should have been open and honest, but he was also a little ashamed to be in such a mood about it in the first place. It wasn't like she was absolutely ignoring him, though he did notice her sidestep his offer and had no idea what to think about it; still, he felt like she was too busy for him now that school was back in session. It was not a good feeling, especially after he had become so accustomed to being around her all the time. Phillip had spent years on his own, perfectly content in his solitary and silent darkness, and then Billie had lit up the room. Now, he was worried that he was going to flicker out too.

He should have told her what he was feeling; if he had, maybe she would have been able to reassure him and make everything go back to the way it was before. But he didn't. Instead, he shirked off her question the same way she had avoided his, by saying nothing and moving forward. "Do you want to watch the meteor shower on Wednesday?" He asked. They had briefly spoken about it before, but it had been weeks since it last came up, and Phillip was feeling anxious about the possibility of her not being available now.

They had reached the village, and Phillip was happy that it wasn't as crowded as usual. The weather was dreadful, it was cold and crisp, and the sun was setting, so he wasn't surprised.

She felt hurt, somehow, that he hadn’t answered. And not just hurt, but confused. Was a non answer, in fact, an answer? Was he not okay? Was he upset with her? The anxiety didn’t abate, and Billie's emotional response was to turn inward. To look for mistakes she'd made, or ways she could do more – or less, if that was what he wanted. And then he asked –

“I…” The meteor shower. Merlin, she wanted to. Especially now that he was asking her to do it with him, and not just ignoring her question. She felt a little twisted about it, actually, and was having trouble speaking; she wasn’t very good at saying no. “I have prefect duty Wednesday night,” she told him reluctantly. She couldn’t leave it though; “Maybe I could try to swap with someone, though? Or, after…?” Afterward, she would be going to bed. They didn’t sneak out after curfew anymore, not really at all. Billie had already been reluctant to do that before, and now that she was the one with responsibilities, she was even more hesitant to break the rules.

The hesitation in her voice rang out like an emergency siren's in Phillip's head. He'd heard that tone before, the faltering right before she told him she couldn't, and he was already building his case in his head. They always watched the meteor showers together; going to the Astronomy tower after hours used to be their things; prefect duty wasn't all that important. All of his thoughts roiled around in his head as she explained why she couldn't. The attempt to ease the blow, the possibility of switching shifts, did very little to calm Phillip's nerves. He clenched his jaw, wanting her so badly to have just said yes, that she'd of loved to, but that wasn't the case.

His mind took him back months ago when she said she'd go anywhere with him, to the way her face had glowed in front of the globe in the Keithcairn library, so much for that. "Forget it, it's fine," He said quietly, not wanting to snap at her but also desperately wanting to tell her everything that he thought so that she would know it. Phillip had never been very good at keeping his mouth shut, and it often got him into trouble, but this was Billie, and everything was different where she was concerned.

"I just," he started and stopped, sighing a little as his eyes moved forward, staring past where they were heading and a million miles away. "I feel like we never hang out anymore, you're always busy," Phillip understood she was busy with all of the academic things she was doing. And he told himself if it was just classwork, OWL study, and that stupid mentor program, that he would have been able to get past it. But it was more than just that; he felt like she hung out with her group of friends, Killian specifically, more than she spent time with him, and honestly, the teenager was jealous.

She noticed the tension in his jaw, and immediately wished she hadn’t said anything. Shouldn’t she just have agreed, and then tried to swap shifts with someone else? Wasn’t he the best thing in her life – the most solid, present thing? Shouldn't he come first? Billie didn’t know what he was thinking, but if it was anything along the lines of those things – the things she was thinking – then she knew he was right. She felt a swell of guilt, then an urgent need to make promises and kiss him and somehow make it right.

He told her to forget it and Billie swallowed, dropping her gaze again, but feeling something intertwining with the guilt. Fear, maybe? Fear of losing him? The idea really felt like a suckerpunch deep inside her chest. Phillip had told her to leave it and she would have done as she was told, except that he started speaking again. He stopped walking, and after a beat, Billie took a couple more steps so she could turn and stand in front of him. She wanted so badly to take his hands in hers. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t volunteer to do everything,” she agreed. There was a little neediness in her tone, like she needed him to believe her. “I–I can make more of an effort, you’re right.”

Phillip stopped walking when she moved to stand in front of him, not caring that they had this personal conversation in the middle of the path into Hogsmeade. He focused on what she was saying, and even though she agreed with him, he felt like she wasn't. Phillip had built all of this up in his head that it was like an uncontrollable wave when he finally said it out loud. And whether she resisted or gave in to it, he'd still feel the same pressure.

Billie said he was right, but it didn't make him feel any better, and she promised to make more of an effort, but all he could think was why it had to take an effort in the first place. Two months ago, they were blissful; it was just the two of them with no distractions; she didn't have to make time for him. How had it changed so much, so quickly? He felt like the wave was going to pull him under.

"Yeah," Was all that escaped his lips as his mind reeled. Did Billie have to make the time to see her new group of friends? Did she have to make an effort to hang around Killian and the others? Phillip doubted it. "It shouldn't be a chore," He told her, his green eyes focusing on anything except for her face. He knew if he saw her face, he'd give in, accept the small amount of time she could give him, like a dog with scraps, but Phillip wanted things to go back to how they were before. Billie was the most important thing in his life, and he selfishly needed to know that she felt the same way.

Billie’s heart was beating quickly in her chest now, and her mind was spinning. Maybe she actually should pull back from some of her responsibilities. If she was busy to the point of hurting him like this, then wasn’t that selfish? She couldn’t change the fact that she was in her OWL year, but maybe she could try to study more with him and less with her other friends; she had been spending more time with them, the Gryffindors especially. The thought that she could step down from being a prefect crossed her mind, but that was overreacting, surely? She felt a little shaky; she was only half convinced.

A chore? Spending time with him? She shook her head. “It’s not a chore,” Billie said, reaching for him properly now, unable to stop herself. She move closer so she could rest her hands on his chest, tilting her head a touch to try and get him to look her in the eye. Billie felt a kind of anxiety she hadn't felt in a long time, but she tried hard to keep that out of her expression. There was still a little pleading tone in her voice, though. "It's not. I promise. The other things are chores," she added.

A cool breeze ruffled her curls, and made her cheeks ache. "I'm sorry Phillip," she said.