Alice Fortescue was a simple woman. She never craved extravagance or power, nothing extra, nothing too much or over the top in any way. Alice was, however, a romantic. She wished for a sweet love, the kind little kids dreamt about. She never knew Narcissa Black would be that love. She never considered that Narcissa would one day be her reason for waking up every morning and getting adequate sleep at night. The love they shared was beautiful and heart-wrenching and strong and ever so painful. Their love was not simple, it should have been. In a perfect world, it would have been. Narcissa Black was a woman filled with so many intricate scars and gorgeous lines of deceit. She was a survivor and Alice did everything she could to help her feel alive. Living instead of surviving. But it wasn’t enough. Because one day Alice boarded the train from platform 9 and ¾ and picked up the latest edition of the Daily Prophet titled ‘Narcissa Black and Lucius Malfoy finally tie the knot!’.
The rest of the school year was a blur in Alice’s mind. She was out of it more than not. She didn’t know what to think, how to feel, how she was supposed to react, what she could say. She thought they loved each other, that they were enough for each other. She was wrong. The only parts of Alice’s 7th year that she remembers clearly are the moments where she would catch Narcissa’s gaze, and then that gaze would rip away from her like it was burnt. She faintly recalls Frank and Rabastan snogging in a broom cupboard one night. Rabastan promised Frank he would never marry another, that they were it for each other. That they would never be separated by stupid pureblood whatnot. Alice held her breath as she listened from outside. She was a prefect, she was doing her rounds. She was supposed to catch them and give the two boys detention with a scolding. But then she caught a glimpse of hope and sweet, sweet, love in Frank’s eyes. And she left them there, she let them be. Because she knew that feeling all too well. And if anyone deserved that happiness, it was Frank. She didn’t know much about Rabastan Lestrange, but she knew that there was a solid certainty behind his words: he truly loved her friend. Alice saw a shooting star that night when she went up to the astronomy tower. She was not superstitious. She made a wish anyway. She pretended not to see Regulus Black and James Potter sitting down with their heads together on the other side. It made her wonder. How many of them were victims of this bizarre complex thing called love? Well, forbidden love, she supposed. And how many of them would make it?
It was in January of her 7th year that Frank came to her in shambles at 2am. He came from the direction of the dungeons. She didn't need to ask what happened. Instead, she held him, perhaps a bit too tight. She didn’t need to figure out how he was feeling, to ask what he needed in those moments, because Alice Fortescue knew that damnation called love all too well. Just like her, he lost his spark. The light that followed them both before was gone. It broke her heart to see him go through the same thing as her. She checked in on Frank all the time, and in doing so, she forced the lingering devastation of Narcissa Black out of her mind every time.
Slowly, they got better, just a bit. But a little better was better than nothing. She found herself dissociating less, Frank was no longer crying every night, he didn’t need to fight tears every time he caught sight of Rabastan Lestrange across the great hall anymore. They had each other, and held on tighter than ever. Over time, they realised that two broken souls helping each other heal, is love. Both knew it was not the kind that left them broken, it was different. But it was safe for them, it was a simple, sweet love that they were both content with. Eventually, Narcissa Black was a less painful thought, but it still came back to her every now and then. She knew it was the same for Frank, and he probably knew what she was thinking as well. They didn’t call each other out on it, because they understood each other, they both knew that the love they had shared with those people was unforgettable and inescapable, no matter how much time had passed.
One night, in April of their 7th year, James Potter came knocking on their door. Alice had never told him about Regulus Black. But it seemed that Frank already knew. The boy was hyperventilating, they sat him down in her bed between them. James held onto them, the tears didn’t stop for about an hour. They shared a knowing look. James couldn’t go to his friends with this. He didn’t have anyone who understood, Sirius would be more angry than comforting. They decided to help him through it. He didn’t ask how they knew, but he asked how to numb the pain. How to get over it, how to get over him. How to move on. How to forget you ever met someone. How to lose a part of your memory. How to erase a part of your life. How to never fall in love again.