'And he's the best fuck that ever walked. He's beautiful - rich, in money and everything else; he's a rockstar to boot, trapped in the body of a fighter. And how he fought; at a state of turmoil with himself - somewhere inside his soul that only she...
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♱
'One day maybe we will dance again Under fiery skies One day maybe you will love again Love that never dies One day maybe you will see the land Touch skin with sand You've been swimming in the lonely sea With no company
One day maybe you will cry again Just like a child You've gotta tie yourself to the mast my friend One day maybe we will love again And the storm will end Make it easy on you The times, the highs, breaking up your mind Can't you hear there's beauty in life?'
Much to the couple's relief, Harry had chosen to spend the last few weeks of the holidays at Hera's house. He didn't provide much explanation, but that seemed a given when as a child he'd never been particularly vocal:
Hera remembered he was always so well-mannered and still — unusually so, though she likely made up for whatever energy he didn't exert. From the little Harry had told them, they figured he felt out of place with the intimate nature a wedding tends to bring out. Fleur was there to get to know Bill's family, not Harry as he wasn't a Weasley and certainly not among her future in-laws.
Harry couldn't help but ponder the meaning of Malfoy's behavior in Knockturn Alley, so much so that he soon caved and told the story to Hera and Sirius, regardless of the consequences he may face in admitting to sneaking out.
To his slight annoyance when he'd spoken with Ron and Hermione, neither seemed quite as curious about Malfoy's activities as he was; or at least, they seemed to get bored of discussing it after a few days. Which, in part, was what encouraged him to spend the rest of the holidays at his sister's.
Sirius was sitting on the windowsill in their bedroom while Hera propped herself up at the side table, shifting through various records and occasionally brandishing one that reminded her of a specific moment to either Harry or Sirius.
Harry faced the couple from the other side of the room, his trunk split open as he pulled random articles — namely books from Hera's previous year that ought to come in useful — and placed them again in his own.
