Malak Aboul Gheit is no stranger to suffering. To death. But she is neither a stranger to love.
The path of this young Egyptian witch as she joins Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy in 3rd year seemed uncertain, but she will soon be trapped i...
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After an exhausting day re-trapping the doxies and de-gnoming the garden, everybody was ready for a much needed rest, resulting in the household sleeping early that day.
Sleep however didn't seem to be finding Malak Aboul Gheit, who after a couple of hours of restless wallowing in her bed, had finally decided to make herself a cup of tea, in an attempt to calm her nerves.
Why was she nervous?
Malak could not quite put a finger on it. Maybe it was the imminent start of the end — one of her last years at Hogwarts and the beginning of her adult life. Maybe it was the multiple career paths that opened for her afterwards. Maybe it was just excitement about the Quidditch World Cup. Maybe it was... well, why not admit it? Charlie Weasley.
The Egyptian witch bit her bottom lip softly, in a futile attempt to prevent the idiotic grin that never failed to appear on her face whenever the image of the dragon tamer crossed her mind. Whenever his name was mentioned.
It was probably a combination of all of the above. Whatever the cause, the fact remained — she couldn't sleep.
With a steaming cup of tea in hand, Malak sat outside the Weasley residence. She was immediately greeted by the cool breeze of that English summer that inevitably brought goosebumps to the skin of the Egyptian witch, accustomed to a much benevolent and warm weather.
Malak sat down on the floor, resting her back against the cold outer walls of the house. The soft tweeting of Thoth, her majestic thunderbird, flying around the structure, and his delicate iridescent feathers melting with the the stars of that summer sky immediately calmed her down.
She closed her eyes, taking deep breaths and small sips of tea, so as to increase the sensations and the awareness of her surroundings.
"Can't sleep, bunny?"
His soft whisper startled her slightly, but as soon as her eyes found his, all her efforts to hold back that dumb smirk were pointless. She just couldn't. Malak Aboul Gheit was not physically able to contain her smile when graced by the presence of Charlie Weasley.
"How is it that you always manage to find me when I'm lost in my thoughts, Charlie?" the Egyptian witch spoke, turning her attention back to her cup of tea.
"I will always find you, Malaki" he simply stated, while sitting down next to her, careful not to drop the cup he was holding.
Against her better judgement — or simply without thinking at all, Malak's head found its way to come to a rest on Charlie's shoulder, as she stared in front of her at nothing in particular.
Charlie's arm maneuvered with delicacy yet swiftly, placing his hand on her waist and moving the Egyptian witch graciously, as if she weighed no more than one of her thunderbird's feathers, but with equal finesse and care as if he was dealing with the plumage of the animal.
