Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
'the fire can't touch me,
for i have burned one too many times
& the sea can't harm me,
for i've been drowning my whole life.
oh but you could rip my heart open,
darling,
for I have never known love before.'
-R. /asthreria
><><
Adeline awoke to a dark room; her eyes stinging with fatigue as she adjusted to the lack of light encasing the Hospital Wing. Lifting her head from her pillow smelling of fresh linen, she gently pushed her arms against the bed's mattress to sit herself up, feet tangled in the crisp, warm sheets as she twisted to face an arched window to her left, the stars blinking back at her fondly. Turning around slowly, Adeline eyed the other hospital beds cloaked in shadows, though no other body lay beneath their sheets, and Madame Pomphrey's lamp had been extinguished. She was alone.
Lying back down with a soft thud, Adeline brought her hands to her face, rubbing her eyes with a loud sigh as she recalled the words she'd spat to the boy of whom she cared the most for. It had been a long time since they'd had an argument—the first being over a year ago in their transition from fourth year to fifth—and even if that had ultimately brought them closer, with Harry's acceptance of her family origins and the sheer amount of apologies he'd given her, whether it be by a note in History class when he was bored and lost in his past wrongs in the warm, dazed classroom, or by uttering it to her one night by the common room fire as her head lay on his shoulder and her eyelids were restfully closed a year after it had occurred, this time it felt as though they were being pulled away from one another, and she was scared that one day, if she reached out for him, his own hand would be too far away for her to grasp.
"Hey," A voice brought her from her thoughts with a flinch; hands flying from her face, she turned to where the word had come from, though couldn't make a figure out in the dark; squinting her eyes. Seeing her struggle, he whispered Lumos, and the light from the tip of his wand illuminated both of their faces. He sat on one of the visitor's chairs beside her bed; turned around so his front faced the back of the chair, arms leaning across the top of the chair's back.
"Draco?" She whispered. "Why are you here?"
"I've come to break you out," The blond shrugged light-heartedly; she looked at him, brow furrowed. Standing up, he pulled the chair to the side and tossed her a pile of soft, grey fabric, landing on her hands. Lifting it, she eyed the hoodie before slipping it on over her pyjamas of a black singlet and dark red, plaid sweatpants; it swam on her, though she paid no mind to this as she pulled her hair out from the hoodie and swung her legs over the side of the bed, slipping her sock-covered feet into her pre-laced boots on the floor. Standing up, she wobbled; Draco instinctively reached for her, grabbing her elbow; steadying her.
