Heâd asked Laura to meet him.
It had been a split second decision, a moment of weakness, when heâd written her the note and asked some Hufflepuff heâd seen in the corridors to deliver it to her. He hadnât really thought this through. It was just last year that Felipe had been wrapped up in the wishes of the Carrows, doing what was asked of him in order to save his own skin. Laura had always been a particular target of his, getting assigned to him again and again.
In the beginning, heâd disciplined her without issue. Heâd tortured her, hurt her, made her scream and cry and beg without so much as a shred of guilt overcoming him. He was doing what had to be done. He was doing what he was told, and he was making his father proud. In the beginning, those had been the only things that had mattered to Felipe.
Then, little by little, things began to change.
Laura wasnât Felipeâs only victim, but she seemed to be the one that kept coming up over and over. It was easier when he didnât know the faces of the people that he was torturing, when they were nameless strangers who may have even deserved what he was doing.
Laura didnât deserve this, and deep down, he knew that. She was a kind, gentle, sweet girl, the kind of girl who hadnât done anything wrong. The only thing that she had against her was her blood statusâand that was beginning to feel like it wasnât a good enough excuse to be hurting her. Each time he disciplined her, Felipe felt the guilt weigh a little more heavily on his shoulders.
Then, there was the final strawâthe time that Astoria caught him torturing Laura, the time that he went blind with rage and hurt her until she was screaming and begging him to stop. Honestly, he didnât know what would have happened if the little Greengrass hadnât stopped him. He might not have stopped on his own. He could have permanently injured Lauraâor worse. Felipe didnât allow himself to think about that.
During his time at home, after heâd fled from the castle by request of his father, Felipe had had a lot of time to think.
That was when the guilt really began to settle in like shackles and chains draped around his neck, over his shoulders, across his chest. The weight was almost enough to crush him, to suffocate himâand he truly felt horrible for what heâd done. There was no excuse. Somehow, heâd have to fix this, and heâd have to do it without his father knowing.
Daphne was one step in all of this. She was his redemption, his light at the end of the tunnel, the silver lining behind all his stormy clouds. That was the biggest reason that heâd requested for her to be the one that he would marryâand somehow, even though he didnât deserve it, he was granted that wish. If only he could get her to look at him with something besides disgust.
This, though. This was another step, and an entirely different one. Felipe had requested for Laura to meet him. He didnât know whether she would come, whether she would want to be in the same room with himâespecially alone, as heâd requested. If he were her, he knew that he wouldnât do it. Heâd stay far away. But still, a little glimmer of hope flickered in his chest as he sat in the empty classroom, his face stoic but his mind racing a mile a minute.
Maybe, just maybe, she would come. And maybe, if he was very, very lucky, he could make up for what heâd done.
Laura tried reading the words out loud, tried pronouncing them so she could only believe they were true, but they kept stuck behind her mouth. That name, it... it made her want to run. Not away, but to the nearest restroom, somewhere she could throw up, erase the horrible feeling in her stomach, the pain brought back along too many terrible memories, too many feelings - and the voidness of it.
It took her ten minutes to stop staring at the note, and almost half an hour until she breathed easy since reading it. She would never, not even in her craziest dreams - or nightmares -, think that he could do it. That he would be the one to present her something like this, even if through a younger person. That note wasn't a peace offering, an apology, something her mind could work with, no... it was an invitation. A call. She wondered how he got the guts to try it, after everything they had been th- no, after everything she had been through. After everything he made her been.
If there was a name she could ever hate, it would be his.
But she didn't. Now, as a writer - and presenting myself for the first time -, I can surely affirm that the lack of hate doesn't mean she had forgiven him, or would ever. I can also say not hating him was far from meaning the feelings she held last year were gone, actually the truth was much the opposite. But there wasn't hate inside Laura's heart. Not because she felt any kind of pity - despite Megan saying they were all victims, he was the one to prove her there were exceptions -, and not because she was a pure naive girl. Anyone should know better than this after analyzing the things that happened in the past with those two.
Why, of course, is something I can't answer - maybe Laura can't as well.
In spite of all those negative feelings, she managed to go. To try. This time, Laura didn't speak to anyone - not even Adelaide, or Megan, or any person who could understand. If that meeting was supposed to be a prank, a trap - a valid thought, even though it made her sick -, then she would be the one to face the consequences. But Laura went anyway. It wasn't more than a five minute walk, but it felt like twenty.
During the short amount of time, she could feel her own heart beating too fast, as if ready to escape through her mouth, her knees so weak it scared her. Sometimes, her foot hit the floor and she heard not steps, but herself running away after a section of torturing, or the sound her feet made while fighting people that forced her to stand still. She could hear the laugh of others, see the terrifying look in her friend's faces, and feel her voice weakening as each scream became quieter - and more desperate - than the one before. Most of all, she could see Felipe - the looks in his face, sometimes almost as if he was happy to do whatever he was doing. She remembered moments that still made her sick, almost one year later, and memories that followed her in nightmares frequently. Why, she asked herself, am I going there?
Finally, Laura made her way through the entrance of the classroom. The relief, though, died as fast as it came. Suddenly she couldn't walk, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but stare and let her right hand rest as it pressed her wand. She looked at the boy that now stared at her, and everything inside of Laura froze. Her throat refused to act after one gulp, her eyes could do nothing but look at the boy who had made her life hell the year before, and her body was nothing but statue. She knew that if he tried something, anything, she wouldn't have the strength to run or ask for help. She could only stay there, looking, wondering, trying to disappear but for some reason not able to leave.
The so called pure Felipe.
Poor little one, don't you know you should have run?