He was glad of Lily's support. No matter what Hugo had done, Lily always seemed ready to forgive him. She'd bitch him out, of course, if he were in the wrong, but she always had a hug waiting at the end of the conversation to tell him that, really, all was forgiven. He supposed this was what came of growing up like brother and sister, even if you weren't. Like Rose, Lily was honest with him, but always understood him at the end of the day.
Lily bounded onto Nick's bed and Hugo hastily made his own with a flick of his wand. He rarely bothered in the morning-- what was the point whe he was just going to mess it up again that night? -- but he had company now. He sat on the edge of his bed, shoulders sagging, bravado gone. He felt truly rubbish, and the worst bit was, he hadn't really done anything wrong per say, but he'd managed to upset just about everyone and handled everything extremely badly. He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked up again at Lily. "I don't understand it, most of the time, Lils."