"I don't think people would let themselves fall in love if they knew how dangerous it is."
"What if the risk is worth it?"
"It rarely is."
A story of a girl who was always on the run. Never had home - the idea of one was foreign to her. And she w...
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[ It's just like seeing her, for the first time. ]
. . .
September had rushed by faster than anticipated. It was now mid October. The once fluorencent leaves were now hues of orange, brown and flaming red, crippling under hundreds of feet. The trees began losing the pieces that once made them whole in summertime.
Adara always wondered why seasons acted the way they did. Not in a scientic but more philosophical way. Does rain in summer show that nature's tired, melancholic even when she's meant to be at her brightest? Does the autumn sun illustrate the fight between light and dark, happiness fighting relentlessly to stay in the grey conditions of autumn. Does snow in winter show nature's breaking point? The point she's at her lowest; she needs to do more than just cry her tears through raindrops.
Right now, the sky was raging. Wind raced past the grounds as if it were battling with itself. Adara stared at this through the only window in the dungeons.
She was making her way to her seat next to Harry and the Golden Trio. She recieved the same looks from Ron as usual: tormenting and full of distain. But she noticed Hermione's was different. The minute the young girl sat down, her eyes glowed at the novel Adara had buried in her firm grip.
The whole lesson, Hermione Granger seemed to be aching to get views of the book as Adara had it set on the table. Adara didn't take notice to these as she stared at the window majority of the lesson.
This is how Adara drifted into a never-ending cyle of longing, unkown questions - the ones that would, annoyingly, never be answered. The times you wonder what happens after death, how we even came to be and more. And at this point, Adara was questionally her own existence and lightly pinched herself to ensure she was infact real.
"Lestrange, pay attention." scolded Snape, who had been observing his students whilst they did their research. Adara fought the urge to roll her eyes and picked up her quill. Snape was clearly a jaded man. She wondered what happened to him as a child.
That's when someone infront of her began to whisper. She heard them whisper to the boy next to her excitedly.
"Hello." the voice spoke softly. Adara looked up in surprise.
Adara saw Hermione Granger, a bushy-haired witch with an enthusiastic expression, facing her expectantly.
"Hi," Adara said cautiously, but still polite. She didn't want to appear rude.
"That book's really good, by the way." The witch spoke, pointing her finger at Adara's copy of Little Women. "I used to read it all the time with my mother."
