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'love opened a mortal wound. in agony, i worked the blade to make it deeper.' [sor juana inés de la cruz]
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Shell cottage held the kind of peace Addie had only felt when in Harry's arms. Breakfast was spent cross-legged by the open window as the fresh ocean breeze caressed her face, ruffling the light blue curtains that framed it. Mesmerised by the waves, she breathed with the sea, letting its white noise lull her mind to a state of solitude, a gentle quietness as she ate her cereal.
Behind her, Harry spoke quietly with Bill. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but their conversation ended with a smile and handshake. Bill patted Harry's arm and stepped out of the room, leaving Harry to step over to Addie and stand behind her chair, hands coming to rest on her shoulders as he pressed a light kiss to her head.
"What was that about?" She asked quietly to match the solemn atmosphere—Hermione and Ron on the plush couches, the former with her nose in a book, and the latter asleep on her shoulder. Luna was outside somewhere with Fleur, and Dobby was busy knitting himself another little jumper on the kitchen table, lying on his stomach and absently kicking his feet like a little kid.
"Hm? Oh," he said, busying himself with pulling her hair out from where it was tucked in her sweater and running his fingers through it. "I was just asking him about Griphook. He says he's difficult to work with, so we'll have to convince him to help us pretty well," he sighed.
"You've got it," she smiled up at him, leaning back so her head rested against his stomach. Addie had tried helping him, Ron and Hermione with their plans to question Ollivander and Griphook, but Harry had insisted she focus on her health instead—to let them handle it.
Under different circumstances, she might've protested this, but she recognised the importance of rest. This war had already been so unpredictable that she needed to be prepared for anything. They had a safe haven for now, but it wasn't a guarantee. She had to use the resources here while she could—including the very comfy bed she'd stayed in for hours more than usual. Today she'd woken at noon after a long sleep, curled in the strong arms of a certain boy who'd been awake since dawn but hadn't wanted to leave her side.
For the first time in what felt like forever, her eyes didn't sting with fatigue, and the anxiety that lived in her chest had dulled to what seemed like an all-time low. Everything felt okay here, and her body felt it too.
With one last little peck and a "Wish me luck," Harry stepped away and got Ron and Hermione to follow him upstairs to the Goblin's room. Done with her cereal, Addie set the bowl down on the floor and closed her eyes, bringing her attention to the distant caws of seagulls flying overhead and the faint murmur of chat between Fleur and Luna floating in from outside. The quiet clicks of Dobby's knitting needles and his adorable quiet humming. The soft notes of the seashell wind chimes. The chair against her back, underneath her. The comforting weight of her locket laying against her chest.
