The cold vanished as the roaring fire grew in size, gifting you a warm and cosy feeling.
"I'm sorry." The words were so faint, that for a moment, you imagined not having heard them. When you looked to your left, you saw Justin's eyes directed straight at the fire and not at you. His expression was a solemn one.
"What?" You asked, not sure if you had even heard a thing.
"I did not help you, back there … Against Montague and Goyle, I mean." The cracks of the wood, burning themselves into ash were the only sound in the vicinity. The sun was setting as the forest and hills around you turned to darker shades.
"You did not have a wand," you tried.
"I could have still done something. But I didn't because I was afraid," Justin said, still looking into the fire, as he hugged his legs close.
"You don't need to say sorry, either way," you answered, not comfortable with the direction your conversation was taking.
"Jacob," the Hufflepuff started, before halting his words to think about how to proceed. "I am not very brave, never was. The hat knew it and I knew it as well."
The fire was casting dark shadows under his eyes, making his face look surreal. Instead of watching him closely, you averted your eyes to look at the fire, too.
You heard him chuckle, as he was laughing about a joke only he understood, before he said: "Gryffindor was out of question the moment I put that hat on."
The fires danced in front of your eyes, moving left and right, guided by the wind. For a moment a small part at the upper left looked like a snake that was trying to bite the sky, before the illusion disappeared again.
"Now imagine, being a Muggleborn, not brave enough to stand for himself," Justin said with a low voice.
"But I was working hard and studying in first and second year to close the gap between me and you guys, who had always known about magic, who knew so many things I had to actively learn first." Justin took a stone from the ground between his legs, throwing it into the air for a few inches and catching it repeatedly. "And just when I think I had you, when I thought that I was almost there, finally knowing things as well, even able to teach something to the others … just then, with my luck, I saw the Basilisk's eye through the Gryffindor ghost and was petrified."
Oh, you forgot about that. Your eyes fell on him again, looking at Justin from the side as he threw the stone into the fire before him. He had been one of the victims back then. The shadows over his face were now almost completely black as day turned to night around you, the fire moving the shadows on his face around as if alive.
"The year was over, when I woke up. Five bloody months, gone, just like that. I was just at the beginning again, just where I had started and frankly … I don't have that drive to catch up anymore."
You looked up at him, feeling like there was a possibility for you to say something. "I could help you," you said. Only now did your eyes meet again. There was hurt in his expression … and anger as he stood up.
"I don't need your help, damnit." Another stone was thrown into the fire. "I don't need anyone's help. I'm a bloody Finch-Fletchley!"
Not knowing how to react to that, you chose to say nothing.
"If that gorilla of a Slytherin calls me a Mudblood again, I swear to god, I'll cut him down."
The third stone was thrown with more power behind it, crashing into the burning pit and pushing ashes into the air behind the flame. You looked on as the anger on Justin's face vanished almost instantly after he had said those words, as if his anger had just needed an outlet. Then he sat down again.
"I don't even know why I'm saying this to you. We don't know each other at all," he said.
You didn't answer at first, looking up at the night sky. Even if you knew that there were a billion stars above you, you did not see a single one of them. Your eyes were still accustomed to the bright flame burning in front of you, masking the sky in darkness.
"There is a very old man on the island I come from," you said, still looking up at the sky, trying to make out the faint lights.
"He is the oldest man I know, sometimes telling me stories of his youth in France," here you chuckled. "I imagine the France that exists today is very different to his stories, he hasn't been there in decades, but still, what he always told me was of how much he loved his country."
There were some noises in the hut behind you, a door opened, but you just kept on talking.
"I was young, mind you. Only knew my home island truly, even if I loved to read novels about characters around the world, I had rarely seen a thing but my home island. So, you can imagine how much I bothered him for stories."
Your smile stayed on your face as you thought of the Evenings in their living room. The neighbours had been just part of the family for you, which had made every single death a tragic one.
"So, one day, I asked him why he loved his country so much? What had made it such a great country, when I was reading so many wonderful things about far away places like Japan and The Americas." You still wanted to see those places, see all of the world, learn so many things. But you would come to that in time. Growing up around so many old people had made you quite patient – even if your curiosity won out at times.
"And he told me of the country he had grown up in, how it had been a place ruled by the old, governed by the ignorant and without vision. A country without care for its own people. So, naturally, I asked him, how he could love such a country, because I did truly not understand."
There were loud steps behind you, making Justin look back, before he turned back to you. The Professor stepped to the fire, a large teapot in one hand and a bag in another. He did not say anything, listening to you as well as he started preparing tea.
"The France of his telling was nothing I would like to visit at all. But then he told me about the anguish the people had felt, how they had fought against these old principles again and again. They failed many times, he told me, not able to make things truly good, until … one day, they realized that things had gotten better in the end. He told me that there had been no specific moment in time, but after all they tried and risked, at some point they realized that things had changed."
The teapot was cooking above the fire, when Professor Hagrid took a few sweets out of the bag and passed them to you and Justin. Every single one was as large as a cake. You accepted them with a smile.
"And then he told me about the France he now loves so much. Only then did I understand. If you have something that is good, that is not a bad thing. There are many countries just like France, that care for their people, are tolerant and competent. What makes it special for him, is that he remembers how it was before. He remembers the struggle they had to go through to get the country to this new form and that is why he appreciates it so much."
Now, you looked back at Justin who was biting into his large cupcake-cake. You followed suit and while it was chewy and not in any kind or form handy and easy to eat, it was still good.
"So, its only worth something if it was difficult to get there?" Justin asked.
You shrugged, before you said. "I don't know, maybe, maybe not. You'll have to see yourself in the end."
Justin looked back at his cake and then at the Professor.
"Thanks, Sir," he said.
And so, you sat together for a while, drank tea and ate the cake Hagrid had given you as a thanks for helping him, before you made your way back to the castle and into your common room. Well past curfew, there were only few still awake.
Physically tired and with having downed the entirety of the cake, you found yourself in a queer mode, something you hadn't felt in quite some time.
