《The Chance of Falling》Chapter Thirty-Three

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-December-

*Lilah POV*

I stared up at the canopy of my bed, heart pounding, fingers clenched, sweat beading on my forehead.

It was torture.

The sheets twisted in my grip, forcing myself to even out my laboured breathing, not wanting the girls to realise what was currently taking place.

I sat up, ignoring the sock missing from my left foot as I tried to calm myself down, resting my head in the palms of my hands. It was just a dream. It's not real.

Well, it's not real anymore.

Every day I was growing more and more weary, snapping for no reason, lashing out and the flashbacks, dear Merlin the flashbacks. Apparently, it's common to experience these occurrences after a traumatic event, the muggles having dubbed it PTSD, better known as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Not that I had it but Dumbledore was adamant.

I no longer felt the stress and the pressure that accompanied war but now I was forced to relive every moment of it – whether that be conscious or unconscious.

I could hear the whispers of Alice and Lily, believing that I was yet to wake. It stung but I knew it was the truth, I was going crazy.

Not that they knew why they just assumed that I was having a mental breakdown.

It was moments like these where I was grateful that I did not share a dorm with the Marauders for fear of them realising what was going on. They were more intuitive than they appeared to be at first glance.

I threw back the curtain of my bed, ignoring the embarrassed look shared between a certain pair, walking past them and out the door, rushing hurriedly down the steps towards the common room and towards the boy's room.

If there was anyone who could make me feel better it was them.

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Ignoring the shocked looks of my pyjama clad figure, I paced up the stone steps, grateful that the founders had not bothered to think that a female would attempt to enter a male's dorm.

Thank you obliviousness.

I closed the large wooden door quietly, padding over to James' bed. I pulled back the red quilt softly, not wanting to wake him. I slipped in slowly and awkwardly, my attempt to not jostle him proving futile.

"Love?" He groaned out huskily, his voice lined thickly with remnants of sleep. He blinked up at me dazedly, not being able to comprehend the situation just yet. A small smile lit his face as he moved over, tugging the corner of the blanket down further, allowing me to slide in next to him.

His arm wrapped around me, the slight scruff of his stubble tickling me as he burrowed his head into my neck. "Sleep," he huffed out, tightening his grip, "we'll sort it out together when we wake up."

He placed a soft kiss to the side of my neck; his body relaxing as sleep lulled to him once more.

"Together," I whispered out, not knowing whether or not I was ready to tell him the truth.

I wasn't ready for him to leave me, not yet.

*James POV*

"Oi," Remus called out, flinging back the curtain on my bed to glare down at me.

I grinned sheepishly up at him, silently motioning to a still sleeping Lilah.

"I don't like this!" He whispered, motioning at our close proximity before closing the curtain once more, shutting the door behind him as quietly as he could.

"Well that was interesting," Lilah commented, smiling up at my shocked face.

I brushed stray strands from her forehead, loving the feel of her soft skin underneath my fingertips before sitting up, leaning against the wooden headboard in one swift movement.

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"So care to explain?" I prodded cautiously, having noticed her odd behaviour for the past month.

"I don't think you want to know," she whispered, interlinking her fingers with my own. At my encouraging nod of the head, she sat up with a sigh, leaning against the board next to me. "I've been having these moments of recollection, well they're more like flashbacks, of the past few years. It's just been a bit hard, is all. Dumbledore said that is was completely normal to experience this after one traumatic event, let alone several over the past seven years. Just a bit of PTSD, nothing to worry about. Some coffee and I'll be good to go," she trailed off, refusing to look at me.

PTSD? Traumatic event? Several traumatic events?

Maybe I didn't know Lilah as well as I thought I had.

"I may not be versed too well with Muggle terms Love, but I am well aware of what PTSD is. You can't just say that without going into detail and saying not to worry is only going to make me worry more!" I breathed out, now stressing over the mental state of my girlfriend.

Girlfriend.

Lilah is my girlfriend.

A goofy smile lit my face as I recalled the events at the dance before quickly wiping it away with an awkward cough, hoping that she didn't notice my moment of idiocy in the midst of the serious atmosphere.

"Where I came from, a war was on the horizon during my schooling. My friends and I got tangled up in it, which, of course, if you knew them then it wouldn't surprise you all that much. The battle happened in my final year there, people died." She shrugged casually but her voice failed her, breaking and cracking until it was no longer identifiable.

"Who died?" I squeezed her hand tighter, glad that she was finally opening up to me but not at the extent of her pain.

"My dad." She forced out, leaning her head on my shoulder as she breathed in quickly. "He died in my arms, James. I begged him, I-I..."

I pulled her onto my lap, ignoring how her short night dress rose dangerously high on her tanned upper thighs. Swallowing the lump of lust and the thirst of desire, I vowed to never let my girl go through that pain again.

Not if I could help it.

"What were their names?" At the confused glint in her red-rimmed eyes, I clarified, "your friends?"

"Oh," she breathed out, her shoulder's slumping slightly in relief. Why would she be glad about that? "Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley and Harry Pott- Harry Potts." She stuttered on the last name, her face filling with a brilliant red.

"Potts?" I questioned, "That's a rather odd name. Muggle-born, I presume?"

"Half-blood." She corrected, leaning forward to rest her head on my chest. "Can we just stay like this forever?"

"If that's what you wish, Love. I always wanted to name my kid Harry, you know?" I chuckled lightly, running my hand over the nape of her neck and bottom of her high bun.

Her soft snores slowly drifted me to sleep, my last action was to pull the comforter up, encasing her in the warmth it provided.

My last thought, however, was that I'd track down these friends of hers.

It would make her happy.

And her happiness was all that I needed.

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