Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
'I still my heart and I can hear you'
[Rustin Larson]
><><
The afternoon sun beamed through every window of the living room, igniting universes of dust as they floated through the air, and she squeezed her eyes to drown out its light as she woke, before sitting up way too fast, leaving her with what felt like the biggest headache in the world pulling at her skull as the couch seemed to sway beneath her.
Wincing, Addie brought a hand to her head as she gradually opened her eyes, brow furrowed in confusion as she was met with the Weasley's living room—empty, except for herself—where she sat on the comfiest couches of them all with three woollen, hand-made blankets of varying colours and patterns laying over her. As faint, warm chatter in other rooms and floors of the Burrow met her ears, she finally remembered the previous night, and, despite getting a solid eight or more hours of sleep, she felt more exhausted than ever, and couldn't find the energy—or the will—to stand, as her limbs felt hollow, fragile, numb.
"Hey sleepy-head," a warm voice from the doorway stifled a laugh, and she half laughed, half groaned in response, covering her face with her palms. Feeling the couch dip beside her, she rubbed her eyes and opened them again to see Harry sitting on the edge of the couch, balancing two mugs with swirling steam in his hands. Sitting straighter, back against the couch's arm, she tucked in her legs so he could sit back, and gratefully accepted one of the warm mugs with both hands.
Hot chocolate.
Looking up at him, she failed to keep a straight face, and burst into laughter along with him despite the way her head throbbed as a result. Just as they tried to still their shaking shoulders from spilling the drinks, Ron, Hermione and Ginny walked in, each carrying their own steaming mugs.
As chatter filled the room and the five lounged around the room, Addie tuned in every now and then, though found herself disassociating from every group conversation—either by absentmindedly watching the flickering flames in the fireplace or eyeing the way Harry was also struggling to keep his eyes open. The sheer warmth of the room didn't help their cases either, nor the fact that it was beyond freezing outside, so everyone in the Burrow had silently agreed that today was going to be an inside day.
Mrs Weasley, in the other room, had an old black and white movie playing as she did the ironing, and the lull of the indistinctive voices and theatrical, wailing strings instruments beneath the low words passed between Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were soft and comforting. So comforting, in fact, that Addie was almost asleep before she even closed her eyes.
Sliding down the seat cushion, resting her head on the low arm of the couch, she stretched her legs out, still covered in thick socks and plaid pyjama pants, and closed her eyes. Given their proximity, her lower legs came to rest over Harry's lap, who, in the middle of a conversation with Ron on a nearby armchair, didn't think twice about it, and absentmindedly, almost instinctively, rested his hand over her leg. Ginny and Hermione, however, immediately traded silent but animated wide-eyed looks.
