good things fall apart • sirius black

Abandoned

Ellie had been in this position before - standing before a mirror in a dress she probably wouldn't wear in any normal circumstance.

But this wasn't any normal circumstance, this was the day of her mother's funeral, and suddenly wearing a dress didn't feel as awful as it used to. Instead, there was some solace in it, knowing Adelaide would be happy to see her in one. Though that didn't make the prospects of the day any better.

Black had never been Ellie's colour. She stuck to brighter ones instead, happier ones, for those ones made her smile. But now her dress was the dullest of colours there were, reflecting the darkness that seemed to be spreading everywhere. In Ellie's soul; seeping into the walls of her home; following closely behind wherever she went. Painting vibrant flowers of the purest pinks and reds made her momentarily forget that everywhere else was grey. Even her mind felt absent of any light. So, in many ways, the black dress she wore was a good representation of how she felt. Yet, Ellie found herself not wanting to have to display that so openly with everyone.

It was the first time she'd had been in her room since she'd returned home, having Clementine bring her clothes down to the Orangery, but mostly living out of her Hogwarts trunk once it arrived. The white of it all was quite blinding really, the pure colour seeming so wrong now such a pure soul had been taken from the world. And the black dress looked odd against the colour of fresh snow everywhere else. It made the dress feel uncomfortable, as if the brunette was out of place in her own room. But then, Ellie wouldn't really call this her room anymore, the Orangery was her space now. And whilst the room she stood in housed her bed, and her possessions, and was decorated exactly to her taste. It was also decorated exactly to Adelaide's taste.

Like everything in Ellie's life.

In fact, the brunette had never despised her own appearance so much, looking so much like her mother as she did. The soft curves of her features which she got from her mother; her stance and posture which was taught to her by her mother; her smile that matched Adelaide's so perfectly; every single one of her mannerisms, right down to the way she blinked, which looked like mirror images of how Adelaide was. Used to be.

The only thing that wasn't the same, were her eyes - the only safe thing to look at in the mirror.

There was no way to be free of her, when all Ellie had to do was get a glimpse of her reflection to see her mother again. And that was the difficult question she'd pondered over for a while: whether she wanted to push the memories of her mother away or just feel everything and try to live on that way. Pushing it all away was easy, but clearly that meant pushing everything Ellie knew about herself away too. Not only did she look like the splitting image of Adelaide, but she was so much like her, that trying to forget her mother only called for a complete change in personality. Ellie didn't have the strength needed to take such a different direction in life. That only left the feeling. But that wasn't an easy task either.

Euphemia had picked out the dress she wore, for Cyrus had no knowledge of anything of the sort, and Ellie did think it was pretty. But pretty dresses hardly seemed important anymore. Mum would want only the prettiest of dresses - she told herself, trying to keep in mind that right now, everything was for Adelaide. And if she was going to try and continue with the memory of her mother, instead of trying to suppress it all away, that was something she was going to have to get used too.

Pretty dresses for mum - which surprisingly didn't seem like too much of a chore. Now there wasn't anyone forcing her into the dress, being in one wasn't so bad, she figured. In fact, Ellie craved the works of art which hung carefully in her wardrobe, usually never having eyes lay on them. Anything other than this depressing colour.