“Hey, Jay? Jay?”
Jay didn’t bother to glance at the door. There was only one person who would ask for him in that voice, soft and slightly concerned without being overwhelming. Besides, Abby was the only person other than him who knew that the Room of Requirement had survived its ravishment by Fiendfyre and certainly the only person who would think to look for him here.
“Bad day?” his best friend asked.
Jay shrugged noncommittally. Abby, of course, was not fooled. People who were not feeling like shit didn’t sit curled in a blanket in a secret room only one other person could access.
“Want me to go down to the kitchens for some chocolate and watch Pride and Prejudice?”
Finally Jay looked at her. Abby had ditched her robes as soon as March had given her the excuse of weather occasionally above 10°C. Her blouse had a purple stain on it, either from hair dye (only the tips of her hair, because apparently any more would be “just overkill, Jay, come on, I have taste!”) or from some potion and someone, probably Emi, had embroidered flowers up her dark school trousers.
He tried a smile. Probably he didn’t succeed, but Abby understood it.
“Thanks,” Jay said softly.
“Hey, it means I get to watch Pride and Prejudice again,” she said.
She smiled at him and then vanished back into the school. Jay dropped his head back onto the sofa. He wished he hadn’t decided to talk to his brother today, of all the days. He hadn’t even made it to the Great Hall, because Dad had been there, in the middle of the Entrance Hall, and he had been talking to Al, and they had left. Al was spending the day with Dad. And that was fine, that was fine, because Al had been struggling lately, and there had been that whole confusing thing that Jay still didn’t understand but it had been hard on him.
But…
But it still hurt. It had hurt the whole time, when Dad would come to the school to talk to Al and Professor McGonagall, when he’d try endlessly to talk to Al at home.
It had hurt because Jay couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken to his father.
Sure, Dad spoke to him sometimes – calling him for dinner, telling him to hurry up to get on the train, asking him to be good. But they never had conversations. Most of the time Harry didn’t even notice that his son hadn’t replied, because he was too busy turning to Al, worry written all over his face. Mum wasn’t quite as bad, but it was clear she was worried for Al too, and believed Jay every time he said he was fine (he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been fine).
Al had told Jay once that Dad didn’t care about him and loved Jay far more. It was so blatantly the other way round that Jay hadn’t even been able to respond.
“So we have chocolate frogs or Heroes,” Abby announced, kicking the door closed behind her and sinking onto the sofa beside Jay.
“Heroes,” Jay said promptly.
“Thought so,” Abby said. “What about the film? Colin Firth or Keira Knightley?”
Jay considered. “Keira Knightley, I think.”
“OK,” Abby said. “Alexa, play Pride and Prejudice with Keira Knightley.”
The wall in front of the sofa Abby and Jay were curled up on sprouted a TV and flickered on. This was one of the only parts of magic Jay actually liked: the film they wanted started playing immediately. Technically it didn’t even need someone to say its name; Abby had once asked for “that one film where Elrond plays a villain” and The Matrix had started up.
“You don’t have to call it Alexa,” Jay pointed out.
“But it’s fun,” Abby said. “It’s either Alexa or Siri, and my phone will respond to Siri. Besides, I’m waiting for the day I call the Room Alexa and one of those pure-bloods who know nothing about the Muggle world are just like: It HaS a NaMe?”
Jay snorted. Abby could always make him laugh, no matter how upset or tired or fed up he was. She always knew when he needed to watch a Muggle film and eat chocolate. She knew when he wanted to sit in silence and when he wanted to talk about something completely random and when he just needed someone to listen. And he was the same about her. It was why, no matter how many people tried to displace her, she would always be his best friend.
Abby leant her head on Jay’s shoulder and he rested his against hers. Onscreen, characters in regency costumes fell in love and hurt each other and, against all odds, eventually made up.