𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟑 - 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

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╭────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────╮

𝐎

August 30th, 1996

Dear Margot,

I think Mum and Dad are getting a little bit too emotional nowadays because, just as I picked up the strength to accept Ron's invitation for a sleepover at the Burrow, like every summer, they turned a bit cold and argued that they wanted me there for my last day before returning to Hogwarts. I understand, of course. Things are getting more unsure out there, which only makes them think of the worst.

In any case, my parents were soon happy that I would be "socializing" and offered to take me to the Burrow themselves.

The Weasleys were very happy to hear that I would be staying with them for the last two nights before Hogwarts and they insisted to have us all over for dinner - well, they didn't have to insist much because we all love Mrs Weasley's cooking.

I spent the whole morning cleaning and tidying up the room and gathering the last things I would need for my year in Hogwarts. There are only a few things that I will take back with me, apart from the usual. That nice necklace of yours, the one from that summer festival, is one of them. I'll try to wear it as often as I can, but I'm so terrified of losing it.

"Swan Queen, you don't need to go if you don't really want to..." said Mum as Dad loaded the trunk in the car.

I took a look at her troubled eyes and now I knew. Yes, my parents wanted me to linger in the house for a few more days, as any parent would but today's argument wasn't just about that. I now understood that part of them knew that I was not ready to go back to my usual life and saw these two days as another pressure, another commitment to the obligation to go back to normality. It was the same as on I would go to Diagon Alley; they could smell that I was only meeting my friends because to do otherwise would only add to my problems.

At first, I had to hear everyone exclaim and ask where I had been all this time - the usual. But once we sat on the dinner table and started laughing at Mr Weasley's jokes as he was drinking with Dad, things seemed much plainer.

It was one of those rare afternoons that I felt like I owed it to life itself to be grateful for. When you are surrounded by the people you most love in the world, things ought to seem ideal.

Harry, Ron and George lit up a fire in the back yard and Hermione and Ginny brought the marshmallows as I cut some sticks from a nearby tree. Fred brought an old guitar and started tuning it.

"Are you going to play us something tonight, Ophelia?" he said. "Muggle songs are always better."

"Yes! Yes! Play that... that really cool one... Sweet love of mine."

"Sweet child o' mine, George."

"Yes, that one!" said Fred.

"I don't remember any songs anymore," I answered and spread the sticks to everyone.

"Come on! Play because, if you don't, I am going to have a go - and have you ever heard a Banshee dying while stepping on a cat's tail?" said Ron and sat heavily on the ground.

"Not today..." I said and focused on the flames in front of me. With my peripheral vision, I saw Harry eyeing Ron. I suspect that the two of them have already discussed my very recent, incomprehensible behaviour.

Margot, if I don't put my act together, I will have to answer some questions very soon and I don't know if I could bear it.

After that, the night flew smoothly and it almost felt like time had rewound. It reminded me of the lazy nights in the Room of Requirement, waiting for Filch to leave the corridors so that we could return to our common rooms. Yes, it was stressful but at least we were all together.

𝑆𝐴𝑉𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐷𝑅𝐴𝐶𝑂 𝑀𝐴𝐿𝐹𝑂𝑌Where stories live. Discover now