( currently under polishing, multiple chapters in the works )
|| 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒚 • ginny weasley ||
|| Ginny Weasley x fem!oc ||
|| Summery;||
IN WHICH GINNY WEASLEY DANCES WITH AMORA NOTT AND CANT GET THE NOTT FAMILY HEIR OUT OF HER HEAD.
|| achievem...
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Limerence; the state of being infatuated with another person
Day thirty two.
【 ϟ 】
March 16th 1998. Amora She had to focus. There was something in the back of her mind bugging her, but she had to focus. Luna was still missing, and considering the timeframe things weren't looking great. In the muggle world, if they don't find the kidnapped within the first 24 hours it's unlikely that they'll find the victim alive. For wizard kidnappings, however, that statistic is halved. It had been over three months since Luna had gone missing. What was worse, is that they knew exactly where she was.
Amora hadn't been to the Malfoy manor in a decade, but she could still imagine it just the same. That icy feeling deep in your bones, twisting it's way like twine maliciously around your soul. She had a plan, she always did. Though this one was selfish. As many of her plans were, what sets this one apart from the rest is that she knew it would fail.
She never knew much of her father. As she'd said before, he was Theos burden. The shadow behind his smirks, the bright red staining his cheek. His eyes were brown, droopy with exhausted undertones, his hair was a midnight black... that was the extent of her knowledge. She saw a lot of herself in him, and that made her throat close up. Ha, there it was, the bitter cold again.
She glanced up when Fluer gently handed her a glass cup filled to the brim with bland lemon flavored tea. Her oatmeal sat untouched in front of her. 10 new muggleborns were found dead just before five AM that same morning. Most started like that then anyway.
The reporter on the Raido had a habit of sounding uninterested. The kind of voice you hear about in books that puts you to sleep. Amora would've dozed off if she wasn't listening to report after report on death.
Death, death, death.
After breakfast Amora went back to bed. Talking to Ginny would be lovely if it wasn't so hard. Ginny never slept, Amora slept fifteen hours a day. Every time they got to talk, it was to plan. Plan, play chess, sit in silence, eat. Sure, they did random things out of reckless impulse but after a high always comes a fall.
The sun never seemed to shine quite as bright anymore, it appeared the rain loved the taste of war. She sometimes wondered if the sun knew what was happening, she was glad at least one of them got away.
She woke up from her nap at around dinner time. All her sense of time left with her energy. The radio stood in the middle of the table, they all sat as they anticipated the statics leave. The rain pattered particularly heavily on the windows, when it felt particularly quiet she could feel the entire house shake.
