''𝙅𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙛𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙞𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙚, 𝙨𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙧𝙪𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙖𝙡𝙡. 𝙄'𝙙 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬- 𝙨𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙢𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙣.'' Loving you was the most exquisite form of self destruction.
- VOLUME I of the HOUSE OF B...
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• ── ≪ ✧ ◦《✩》◦✧ ≫ ── •
WITH A FLASH, ESTELLA TUMBLED HARSHLY ONTO gravel. A sob leaving her as thick hot pain oozed from all over. She dragged herself to her feet with a whimper, clutching onto the wand in her hand like it was her only lifeline and looked up at the Manor in front of her. Unlike the Black's ancestral home, Potter Manor looked less imposing. With it's red brick build and line of oak trees that followed all the way down the front drive, it looked grand yet homely.
Estella's legs trembled with relief as she pulled herself up the Manors front steps, wincing as her skin, torn and bloodied, caught against the stone. She could make it to the doorknocker- she could, yet her legs gave out on the third step and Estella collapsed, raw and bruised just inches short.
Pain was everywhere, in her head, her arms, legs, stomach. Worst of all though, was her hand which had a gaping hole between the first two knuckles from where Druella had crushed the bone with her heel. As Estella surveyed the bloody hole nausea swirled in her stomach, violent and unrelenting.
Clear sight was quickly becoming a thing of the past as dark red tinged the borders of her vision and when Estella tried to scream for help, all that escaped her mouth was a mangled animalistic cry. Hot tears pooled in her eyes as she lay paralyzed on the front steps of the Potter mansion, so close yet not close enough.
A wave of black tugged at her, threatening to pull her under- save her, from the gut wrenching pain. And just as she began to give in, the door of Manor was wrenched open, and a figure sprinted out, heading down the steps to where she lay, crumpled.
A figure with untameable curls, round glasses, and a crooked grin.
• ── ≪ ✧ ◦《✩》◦✧ ≫ ── •
As the early hours of the morning tinged the windows of the Potters sitting room a milky blue, James and Sirius reclined head to toe one the plush sofa, still clad in yesterdays clothes- Sirius absentmindedly strumming his base as James thumbed through a pack of playing cards the two had yet to start playing.
Euphemia and Fleamont had headed to bed a while ago, and although the days vigorous packing for the return to school should've left the two boys exhausted, here they were, sat on the sofa, minds idle yet awake all the same.
''We'll have to re-do the quidditch plays.'' Sirius spoke, his tone absentminded as he ran through offensive and defensive strategies. ''Slytherin will keep adding new rotations that we won't be able to anticipate.'' Although James hadn't heard a word of what he'd just said, he nodded all the same
