Never Got to Say Goodbye [Harlow]

[max walker]

Twenty minutes ago Max had been eating breakfast on a weekend morning with her girlfriend, and, less importantly, the rest of the house. She'd been happy and chatting animatedly. In typical Max fashion she'd been animatedly explaining aspects of muggle LGBTQ culture that purebloods may not have encountered or understood. That's when the letters had arrived. Max got a lot of letters from home because she and her sister kept in very close contact, and her parents wrote often, too.  She didn't think anything of receiving another letter, but as she opened up that particular letter and read the news her sister had written to her, it stopped her heart for a moment. she'd managed to excuse herself muttering about going to the bathroom but she'd returned to the common room instead. Now she sat on hr four-poster sobbing holding the soaked letter. Her grandmother was gone.

Max barely registered the sound of the Hufflepuff dorm door opening, as she reread the letter for what felt like the hundredth time. Her grandmother had hated her for being gay. But Max had never gotten a real chance to fix that. She'd never had the chance to say goodbye. Before she had come out her grandmother had been her best friend. They had a lot in common with very similar personalities, it had just been that one thing.

Max was convinced that in time they would have been able to mend fences, that Max's grandmother would see how happy young Maxine was and move along with her life. But now, that would never happen, Instead her grandmother had died suddenly, never having accepted her.  Max flopped back down in her bed  now examining the photo of her family that sat on the bedsidee table. Her grandmother was in the picture, smiling She had pretended to tolerate her granddaughter's sin long enough to take that picture, but it had been a close thing.

She took a few deep steadying breaths,  as she realised somebody was approaching, looking up with red, teary eyes.

[harlow young]

The weekend was something Harlow quite enjoyed, but she knew she needed to keep herself from slacking off due to OWL's being around the corner. But spending time with her girlfriend and learning about the LGBTQ culture in the muggle world was something that made her smile as she had eaten her eggs and bacon - but it wasn't hers entirely. The female had finished her own plate, and stole something off her girlfriend's plate playfully as she listened to her and chewed as the post had came. The Hufflepuff girl had grabbed her own mail, opening the first letter from her parents and read it. There was a smile on her face as she eyed her father's handwriting, and knew he rarely ever wrote to his children since he was a busy man.

"Well..." she had started and had watched her girlfriend excuse herself to the bathroom, earning a look of concern from Harlow. Her smile had faded as she picked up her mail, giving her friends a nod as they looked concerned. Something was wrong, and she knew she should check on her.

It had taken her several minutes to track her girlfriend down, knowing damn well she didn't even go to the bathroom cause Harlow waited a few minutes and even called for her without getting an answer. A part of Harlow wondered if she had done something wrong, but something else told her that it wasn't her. It was something else. The letters had come and she had notice the mood change.

Soon enough she was in their shared dorm, her eyes searching for the girl and she saw her on her bed. She headed toward her slowly, tossing her mail onto her bed, and noticed the bloodshot eyes.

"Max?"

max walker

[max walker]

The sound of Max's name cut the silence of the room as she took in Harlow standing over her. She didn't want her girlfriend to find her. Not because she didn't want Harlow to know but because the brunette had her own problems. Max's teary blue eyes took her in though and she knew that Harlow wouldn't leave. She was too caring, too good to let someone she loved suffer alone. Max sighed and shuffled over on her bed to make room for Harlow. Even if she didn't want to worry the other she was glad for her company. A few more tears rolled down her cheeks as she got her bearings. Max had been crying hard closing her eeyes for long periods too, her head was spinning.

"Harlow." She sniffed. "My Grandmother's d-dead." She managed to get the words out as she eyes just stayed locked with the other She gingerly reached to put the letter on the table beside the picture of her little family, before she sat up, knees pressed up close to her chin arms around them. She knew Harlow would understand but that was the thing. This was a fresh wound for Harlow too. Still she got the impression that Harlow wouldn't be the sort to leave it alone. She whispered "She's gone and I never got to say goodbye, or try to make things better."  She hoped that would be explanation enough for what was bothering her. She'd told Harlow previously about how nasty and homophobic her grandmother had been toward her. She'd also made it clear she believed that in time her  her grandmother would come around, when she realised that being gay hadn't changed who Max was.

Max had rarely ever shown this side of herself at school, she was loud, boisterous and energetic but yet here she was, curled up broken in her bed on a weekend morning. She knew Harlow wouldn't think less of her but at the same time, she was convinced that she wasn't what the other had signed up for. Max was strong and helpful and passionate, not scared, and broken, and grief-stricken.

[harlow young]

The sight of her girlfriend crying had torn at her heart strings, and it made her protective side come out. The Young's were always protective of their loved ones, and they would always find a way to make the other feel better but this was a situation Harlow was never placed in. Yes, everyone had their problems, but Harlow had to be there for her girlfriend in this time of grief. As soon as her girlfriend made the room on the bed, she had sat down, stretchering her legs out and watched her, shaking her head. Death wasn't easy, and she knew Max loved her grandmother even if she didn't accept her for who she was. Who she loved. The moment the words had left Max, she wrapped both her arms around her. She had to be strong for her, help her through this like Max helped her. This was payback in a way.

"I'm so sorry..." she whispered softly, kissing her head and shook her head. All she wanted to do was make things better, but she knew there were five stages of grief. Usually teenagers would ask how the loved one had died, something she had experienced and she refused to talk about. Harlow knew not to ask that question because it was downright rude, and she wouldn't stand for Max to become victim of such questions. It was no one's business but Max's and her family. No one needed to know this at all.

It was breaking her heart to see Max like this, and all wanted to do was hold her. Her hand stroked her arm, as she looked over at the photo on the stand. A beautiful woman like her granddaughter.

max walker

[max walker]

Max slumped sideways against Harlow, glad that someone was there for her, glad that she would be looked after in this hard time. Words simply weren't coming. she couldn't thank Harlow, but her legs slowly slid back down, and her arms opened up, arms wrapping around Harlow. She still sobbed, chest heaving, struggling to keep her eyes open through the stream of tears as she just held the other. What was she supposed to do, or say, or even feel? She was hurt, conflicted. A woman who had hated her and judged her had died, but so had her best friend. Now she was being comforted bby someone the deceased wouldn't have approved of, but in this moment she needed this. Everything was mixed up and wrong.she pressed herself closer against Harlow in this moment.

"Do..." She trailed off the question not forming properly in her mind, she took a deep breath tightening her arms around the other. "Do you think she really hated me? Or..." The words still weren't coming and she gave up. she pulled away again flopping weakly down beside Harlow. She reached for Harlow's hand meekly, holding it as her body went limp and numb, and the whole world just spun. This was Max's first real taste of grief. She was glad that she had already prepared for it in some ways. Having accepted that there may never be a properly healthy relationship between her grandmother and herself again. Even if they did mend fences. It didn't make it much easier.

She just looked up at Harlow, sorrowfully, mouthing a silent thank you for her company.

[harlow young]

Confronting someone through a death wasn't easy -Harlow knew this well because she had been grieving for the past two years over the twins deaths. Losing someone was unbearable, knowing you can't sleep at night without thinking about what had happened to their loved one. Even if Max's grandmother wasn't entirely happy with her sexuality, it was still hard and all Harlow wanted was to be the one Max cried too, cried on. The young Hufflepuff could remember when she cried herself to sleep after the twins had died, and she could sense the grief all over the Young household. It was understandable if one didn't want you to see them cry, and be broken but some didn't have a choice. Max was stuck with Harlow one way or another unless Max wanted to spend some time alone.

When Max asked her that question if her grandmother hated her for who she loved, and she knew she couldn't just use a one word answer. When the grieving Hufflepuff girl had flopped down onto the bed, she thought it over. She knew it wasn't going to be easy for Max to get over this. It was never easy but Harlow will be there no matter what. It showed as she stroked Max's hand with her thumb before she lied down next to her.

"I doubt she hated you." she whispered softly as she looked at her, giving her a small frown. "You told me about the bond you two had, and how...it just went after you told her the truth. I don't think that bond was ever broken, Max. She was your grandmother." she tried to help and was lost.

She really sucked at this.

Instead she just reached to stroke her cheek with her free hand, just looking at her. "What can I do?"

max walker

[max walker]

"I don't know." Max said quietly in response to her girlfriend's question. She didn't know what Harlow could do to make things better, she didn't know if there was anything specific. What she did know was that the other was calming her. Harlow was speaking sense, or at least saying what Max needed to hear. Max knew that Harlow was being honest, though. She believed what she was saying and that meant a lot Max had felt that she was hated for a long time, and this had hurt her most of all because she thought there may never have been a way to make things better. Now, though, she felt like maybe not everything was lost and her grandmother, though intolerant, wasn't hateful. Maybe she had simply been raised with certain values that were hard for her to change.

"Thank you for being here... I didn't want to put this on you but... I guess I was being stupid. Knowing you're looking out for me really helps, Harlow." She said quietly as she put her arms around her girlfriend holding her close. She honestly did feel a little dumb for not telling Harlow right away, and going to hide out with her, rather than sobbing alone in the dorm. It didn't feel awkward sharing this moment with Harlow. It was actually comforting, knowing that the other was there fore her, offering love and support.

Max began to pull away. She could tell the other was a little uncertain when it came to comforting her but she'd done a good job none the less. Max kissed Harlow softly on the cheek as she pulled way. "Thank you. I needed to hear that... I guess I always knew she didn't have long, she was an old woman when I was tiny. I just... I always though that she and I would make up before it all ended." She confided in her girlfriend. "But I think you're right, I think maybe she was just bought up a certain way. That doesn't excuse it but I do understand."