the girl who lost it all [d.m]

twenty four: contactus

contactus: touch, contact, touching

———

ELARA wasn't going to give up.

If Draco Malfoy thought she would, he was sorely mistaken and she couldn't wait to see the look on his face when she succeeded.

The thought brought a smile to her face even as she prepared herself for the wholly unpleasant task that she was about to undertake.

Lifting her hand, she rapped twice on the door in front of her, bracing herself. She wasn't sure what to expect and would've taken practically any other alternative, had there been any.

"I'm not in the mood, Demetrius," came the harsh reply from inside the room and Elara cringed, internally.

"It's Elara."

There was a rapt silence—one that probably involved Carolyn rolling her eyes towards the ceiling. Then—

"Who?" came the sarcastic answer.

Elara gritted her teeth. She was at the end of her tether. The bloody headache hadn't let up once—not even when Malfoy had showed up at the safehouse a day ago—and him denying her even when she pleaded had only added onto her annoyance, along with Harry refusing to let her accompany them to get Ginny out.

"Carolyn," she forced out, trying her best to keep herself in check. "I need to speak with you."

There was another short silence and Elara debated saving her ego and leaving—but then the lock of the door clicked. She pushed it open, revealing Carolyn's room.

It looked much like her own—and every other room in the house—except Carolyn had an entire wall covered in small doodles. Birds, flowers, fire, trees—anything and everything about nature covered the wall from top to bottom. Paint buckets lay piled up in the corner, brushes gathered on the dresser.

"Well?" Carolyn demanded from the armchair. She'd obviously just got done painting, her arms splattered in oranges and yellows, some blue caught in her short blond hair. With the three slashes down her scowling face glowing red, she made an intimidating picture.

"You paint?" Elara asked, her eyes flicking back to the wall. It was quite impressive—a tapestry of forests, seas and animals, all randomly scattered.

"No, I hired an elf," Carolyn responded, dryly. "Yes, I paint. Aren't you a Ravenclaw? You know creativity is one of our traits, right?"

Elara startled, nearly forgetting they'd both been placed in the same house. "Right. I mean—I sketch."

Carolyn raised an elegant eyebrow, crossing one leg over the other as she sat in the armchair. "Charming. Now, care to tell me why you're cutting into my painting time?"