AN: Written for Haley.

Warnings: self-harm, smoking, PTSD, trauma bonding

...

Oh, when you go down all your darkest roads

I would have followed you all the way to the graveyard.

- Halsey

I found you in the Astronomy Tower, on a night when clouds suffocated the stars. It was a few months into the start of term, the year the castle served as a prison.

You hid behind a telescope when I walked in, afraid, I'm sure, that I would rat you out to the Carrows

I rolled my eyes at your cowering, so (wilfully) oblivious as I was to the suffering of students in the other Houses. I only wanted some peace and quiet to have a smoke. Leaning over the rails, I surveyed the shadowy school grounds, the air cool and expansive. It didn't feel like we were in a war up there. I felt like a bird, above it all.

The flicks of my lighter sparked on the cigarette and I took a drag in silent meditation. You slinked up to my side, as though I were a fire breathing dragon who might easily be spooked. Looking at you up and down, I blew smoke into the ether.

Robes crumpled, auburn hair dishevelled, eyes red raw from crying. Shadowy and indistinct, posture bowed. It made me uncomfortable, like a discordant organ chord ringing in my ears. It was hard to ignore suffering when she was standing in front of you, begging to be noticed.

So I plucked the cigarette from my lips and handed it over.

You frowned and eyed it suspiciously, as though it were poison. (It was, of course. An olive branch of cancer.) Then you leant your forearms over the baluster next to mine and took a puff. We traded the poison between us till it burnt out and the sky above cleared to the deepest of blacks.

…

You had never had the luxury of ignorance. Your family had been slaughtered by the Dark Lord before you had taken your first breath. Though you knew the price of heroism was death, you never shied from their legacy. You were brave in the small ways, every day of that gruesome year.

Once you entered my field of vision, there was no unseeing you. Brewing healing potions for students recovering from gruesome punishments. Convening meetings in the greenhouse or kitchens. Comforting traumatised first years. Despite constant assault from the so-called teachers, you never stopped resisting.

I hovered on the fringe of your haunts, just hoping to catch a glimpse. I wanted to be near you, but wouldn't risk it. Wouldn't ruin it all with my sullying presence.

You were too busy to pay mind to a skulking admirer. Save for those precious nights in the Tower when we'd hide away, smoking and whispering and glancing.

And you were brave again in the grandest of ways, fighting in the Battle itself. I left with the image of your fierce face imprinted in my mind, the sinking fear that it would be last time I ever saw you, settling like ice in my chest.

…

In the small cohort of us that returned for our Eighth Year, I was the only Slytherin girl. You were the only one that didn't ostracise me for that. You saved me a seat at meals and roped me into your study circles. Kindness I have never shown and certainly never deserved.

We shared a dormitory and slept side by side. At least, I slept. Whenever I rolled over and peered at your bed, you were sitting or tossing and turning. Dark circles stained under your eyes like the brown rings you left at the bottom of your coffee mug each morning.

You ran on sheer Hufflepuff determination. Though ambition is supposedly my House's trait, you put me once again to shame, fuelled by your goal to become a Healer.

I had no plans. I came back because I had no better place to be. I shrank from my family, avoiding the whiplash from belligerent Pureblood supremacy to abject disgrace that they personified. I neglected to write to my former friends, knowing they brought out a version of me I could no longer bear. At school, there was structure and routine to mollify the inevitable existential crises. And there was you, who in turn, amplified them.

Who was I, when you looked at me?

…

I found you in the bathroom, blood streaking over your skin. A line for everyone you had lost. Everyone you had failed to save. Blood that was never on your hands.

I reached out to you, hands shaking like my voice. You screamed at me to get out. Stood up and pushed me through the door but I wouldn't go. Your breathing cut jagged through the oppressive air. My heart pounded, every beat in my throat, and my eyes stung.

"Please."

"Piss off, Daphne, it's none of your business!"

"Let me help you."

"I don't need your help."

"Let me stay with you."

"Why?"

"Because. I care about you. I don't want you to sit here in the dark, all alone and-"

"Well I am alone. You wouldn't understand."

"Help me understand."

You leant against the doorframe, glowering, spitting out replies until the anger bled into hurt and you cried. I pulled you against my chest and rocked you side to side and you let me tuck you into bed. I wouldn't let you be alone that night.

…

I never fell in love with you. I jumped.

I decided to be everything you needed me to be. You were terrified of getting close to people because you were afraid of losing them. I stuck close to you anyway.

You were selfless to a fault, always putting others over yourself. I put you first.

You overlooked the faults of others easily, but held yourself to an impossible standard. I forgave you everything.

…

I found you in a compartment by yourself. Raindrops slithered over your solemn reflection. You turned to me with a smile and pat the seat beside you. I hauled my trunk into the overhead compartment and joined you, watching the drenched countryside roll by.

"What are you doing next weekend?"

I blinked. "Nothing…"

"Wanna hang out?"

My chest swelled and my lips kinked. "You still…want to be friends?"

You rolled your eyes. "Of course! Why wouldn't I?"

I shrugged, worrying the hem of my robe. "I thought after graduation, you might…Move on."

The crease between your eyebrows deepened and you slipped your fingers between mine. "Certainly not."

I squeezed your hand back, caught in your intense gaze like a butterfly in a web. Your irises were brown and steady like the bough of willow tree, your nose freckled and snub. I trailed down to your lips, pink and shiny with gloss. The cabin seemed to shrink around us, your body warm beside me, the puffs of your breath soft against my cheek. The rain trickled endlessly in a moment pregnant with anticipation.

I wanted you. Drawn by your magnetic eyes, I slowly leant forward, swallowing dryly. You tilted your face up to meet mine. Our lips brushed softly. I cupped your cheek with one hand and kissed you. Tasted the sweetness of jam, bitterness of smoke, swirliness of cherry Chapstick. We kissed and breathed and kissed and breathed and kissed and laughed and kissed again.

…

The War never left us. You kept it together while you were working, treating injuries with a cool, detached head. When you got home, the walls holding back the trauma fell like a broken dam.

The lights were too bright, but the dark was too dark. The silence was unsettling, but the noises were grating. You were starving, but everything you ate turned your stomach. I tried to make it bearable for you. With every misstep I learnt to navigate the minefield. An ever-receding territory you had not mapped out.

I felt sick to see my reflection, face puffy and red. Who was I to be angry with you? Though it wasn't your fault, I still shouted back at you and hated myself for it.

After hours of fighting we would retreat to bed, bawling and exhausted. I curled up against you, burying my face in your chest, I love you's and I'm sorry's washing over my ears like distant waves crashing on the shore. I clung to your love, my life buoy of redemption.

"Please don't leave me."

"I won't. I promise."

…

I know I'm not enough, Susan. I wish often that you had chosen better than me.

But I love you deeply, with my whole inadequate, selfish heart. And so I will stay with you, for as long as you want me, as long as you need me. All the way to the graveyard.