"I was a fool to think I could ever stay away from you as a kid. Just a taste of temptation and you'll have its sweetness on your lips forever."
Draco Malfoy and Estelle Vaile were allowed to care about each other once. How long can you ignore the...
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❝You think...
If there is a heaven,
our parents are watching over us together?❞
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Chapter 28
Till September Comes Again
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As welcoming as the Weasley family was, Harry and I were perfectly aware that they needed at least a little alone time with Ginny. They almost lost her, and they were all looking at the pale girl like she was about to disappear at any moment. A sea of red hair was huddled around her bed even when she took a brief nap. It was a good thing they didn't stray from the bed because she awoke suddenly with terrified screams until they dissolved into soft sobs muffled by her mother's chest.
Harry and I moved off to the side, seemingly unnoticed by the Weasleys because of their focus on their youngest member, and sat side by side on the edge of one of the infirmary beds. We wore white pajamas without any noteworthy aesthetics. The white cleanliness clashed with our scuffed, cut, and battered bodies despite washing away the layers and layers of filth. The color of the water that ran off my body in the infirmary shower was sickening.
My ribbon laid forgotten somewhere down in the chamber, and Molly Weasley, after watching me wince with every stubborn knot, had brushed out my long black hair and braided it into one French braid. Listening to her humming as she motherly combed out my hair lulled me away from the tense memory of Riddle, and the hot cocoa I sipped on soothed me even more. I couldn't help but feel disappointment once Molly finished my braid and quickly returned to her daughter's side beside Arthur.
After so many years of wearing the half up half down style with my ribbons, exposing my neck made me feel naked and exposed but Molly's movements were so full of love and gentleness that my hands subconsciously ran along the bumps and weaves of the braid like I was hypnotized by maternal love.
Shoulder to shoulder, Harry and I were both extremely exhausted, but too little time had passed since facing our parents' killer to fade off into dreamland. It was the kind of exhaustion that surpassed the desire for sleep. Our bodies had grown used to the state of foggy heaviness like it was the new normal. All the energy we had was burned up by the mental challenge of digesting what we just went through. Neither of us spoke.
I know I can't claim to read Harry's mind, but I couldn't help but assume he was thinking the same thing as I was. Or rather, yearning for the same thing as me. Watching Molly and Arthur gather Ginny in their arms to soothe her made me want nothing more than to sob into my mother or father's chest until I felt safe again. I wanted them to be the ones who ran into Dumbledore's office and have no stupid social appearance to uphold when they gathered me into their arms and squeezed so tightly that all my injuries ached. It would have been a good ache. A smothering ache that sung into my ear warmly, 'It's okay, my darling girl. Nothing will ever hurt you again. Tom Riddle is gone. I'll protect you. I'm so proud of you. Please don't cry. I'm here.'
