I must become a lion hearted girl, ready for fight before I make the final sacrifice. Here I am, a rabbit hearted girl, frozen in the headlights. It seems I've made the final sacrifice.
Charlie watched as the hesitant hands of dawn began to leak from the horizon. He had fortunately been an early riser for most of his life which managed to keep him a step ahead of the general chaos of the Weasley home, but where there had once been perpetual, imperceptible movement, now he was still; elbows propped on knees, gaze even and steady as it stayed fixed forward.
It seemed that no matter the time that passed, this home remained constant. Moving on had meant moving out but now there was nothing unfamiliar about the back porch he’d spent half his childhood on, nothing unnerving about the silence that meant the only creatures he’d encounter would be chickens. Old wood supported his weight the way it always had and he couldn’t help but think the comfort was out of place.
Of course it was. He chose not to dwell on it.
It was spring but the air had not quite caught the memo; even as light began its slow, heavy duty of flooding out the inky twilight he let himself indulge, just for a moment, in the jarring juxtaposition. It was not something he’d keep with him for the rest of the day- there was too much to do, too many other things that needed to be dealt with. And, had there not been, he’d never been particularly skilled at wallowing anyway.
Though, contrary to popular belief, he was rather good at planning ahead. Which he could have done now- had been doing for weeks as if it had any beneficial effect at all on his mother’s well being. Even now there was the steadily increasing threat of checklists and chores and everything that had been so recently second nature. But that wasn’t the point now- not in this moment. He exhaled the bullet points, let them fade into lingering ghosts.
In the silence of the morning’s shadow, the back door’s opening was more than a little noticeable no matter its objective volume. He didn’t flinch, merely waited the length of a breath before shifting his weight to the left hand braced behind his back and turning his head.
“-You’re up early.” Even though his voice was even and light, the grin he went for took maybe a little too long melt into something proper. Later, he’d blame it on the early hour.
She hadn’t realized that there was someone else who had the same idea as her. Having been woken up, she could not find it in herself to try and sleep more. With a novel in her one hand, she headed out to get some reading in before everyone else awoke – she was fairly certain that she would be asked to help out around the house and whilst she did not mind that, she did want some time to herself.
Even so, the sight of the eldest Weasley sibling gave her a feeling of comfort rather than a sense of awkwardness between the two. She felt like family, despite having no relations to the family name, something that was not easy for a person of her background in this world. She was still thankful for the kindness she was showed throughout these years of getting to know the ginger haired bloodline.
Hermione gave him a small smile and then moved over to sit down beside him, the book finding a secure place in her lap. “I see you had a similar idea. Can’t sleep?”
It had been a particularly bold move of him, and he wasn’t quite sure of what had spurred him on. He was already feeling dreadfully embarrassed, the tips of his ears burning a bright crimson. Still, he had gotten it into his head that he was going to dance with her, and he wasn’t going to back out now. Even if it was somewhat awkward with no music.
“Still. I acted like a prat, making a scene and all that. — I wanted to ask you, y’know. I mean, I know I did ask, but I meant it. It wasn’t coz you were a last resort.”
she didn’t need music, because in a way, he was her m e l o d y.
She nodded her head in agreement to what he said – “Good to know you’ve realized that.” – but she fell silent when he confessed that he had wanted to ask her in the first place. Her head rested gently on his shoulder, a small sigh escaped her lips ; she was surprised to know that, knowing her own complicated feelings toward the ginger haired boy. “–what stopped you from asking sooner? I mean.. I was waiting for you. But you never bothered.”
”Hi… are you waiting to get into this class? I was hearing at breakfast that it had been shut off for the day, but y’know what rumours are like.”
“Yes, I actually was.” Hermione said as she approached the girl, eyes looking up at the door. “I don’t exactly see why it would be. Most likely students just wanting to get out of class, something else I don’t understand.”
“Look, I’ve got this paper t’write fer potions, what d’ya need?”
“Nothing,” she responded, finding a spot opposite of the female – mainly because everywhere else was taken in the Gryffindor common room. “I’ve also to finish a report, though it’s only the final draft.”
weaslae-blog: "I'll carry you, hold still or it'll hurt more."
“I’m fine–”
But before she could finish her sentence, George had lifted her up off her feet, in a way that it might seem as though she didn’t weigh a thing.
Her eyes widened a bit, arm immediately wrapping around his neck to prevent her from falling– her foot had gotten twisted, or broken, she hadn’t the time to asset which it was.
“— Hey Mione? D’you think… well, I know I ruined the Yule Ball for you and all….”
They were lazing about Grimmauld Place, waiting for Harry to show up eventually. Mrs. Weasley was busying herself with making sure he had dinner waiting for him, and Ron and Hermione had escaped her for a respite from cleaning. He stood up, smoothing down his pyjama top before offering her a hand.
“Wot I mean is, could I make it up to you? ‘m a shite dancer but…” When her hand was placed into his, he helped pull her up to her feet, before pulling her closer. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he placed a hand on her waist before quickly leaning in to kiss her cheek.
“—Sorry for ruining it. Y’looked really nice.”
Honestly, he had caught her off guard. She hadn’t been thinking about the Yule Ball – had actually forgotten about it for a good while there. Yes, remembering the incidents of the Ball, she would normally become quite spiteful at the mention, but the way he had said it seemed to play to his favor; she did not feel mad and was rather calm.
When his arm wrapped around her waist, she felt just at home, as though this was where she belonged. A smile which was impossible to hide came forth at the kiss, her cheeks tinted pink as embarrassment flushed over her.
“–you’ve already made up for it, Ron. Really, you have.”
Never had she seen someone so broken. She had not been terribly close to the female, only recently gotten on her somewhat good side– but to see her like this bothered the Granger girl greatly.
She moved closer to her, arms slowly wrapped around her figure and a small, delicate kiss to the forehead was given, purely in a comforting way.
{ ☾ } —- ” because ‘m not.. what are you going to do? tell on me? —- what’s it to you anyway? “
Her snappy attitude was enough to drive the girl mad. Sure, she was not as uptight as she had been when she was younger, but that did not diminish her respect for the rules. “Perhaps it would do well for you to get into trouble if you’re willingly going to break the rules like this.”
Send me “&” for my muse’s reaction to yours tracing one of their scars.
His fingers moved over the scarring that faintly read ’mudblood’ which had been carved by a particular dark witch; one that often occupied her nightmares.
Her breath was hitched, stuck in her throat - since that night, she kept herself covered, always wearing a coat or a long-sleeve shirt to hide away what bothered her greatly.
She was not ashamed of her blood status, but she was ashamed of the lack of control she had when the scar was given to her. There was absolutely nothing she could do as the blade carved into her. She merely had to wait until it was over, but in that moment, the end seemed unimaginable.
Her eyes moved up to his face, a frown evident on his features. She forced a smile at him, cleared her mind and then attempted to speak in a way that sounded less forced than it was.
