𝗽𝗼𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗵 | 𝗷. 𝗽𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿

𝗶 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗼 𝗳𝗶𝘅 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳

A/N: wow look at me go. another chapter, and not even a month later! i can't believe i've gotten this far with something i wrote on a whim nearly 3 years ago :)

after this, there's just the epilogue, so please stay tuned. and i apologize for any feelings you may have after this.

•——————•°•✿•°•——————•

In an attempt to distract herself, Cherry throws herself into her N.E.W.T. preparations with an almost manic fervour. Ink stains her fingers, quills fray and snap from overuse, and textbooks and parchment pile high around her like fortresses. The common room blurs into a haze of late nights and early mornings, the candlelight flickering against her numerous pieces of parchment covered in frantic scribbles. She isn't just studying — she's drowning in it.

The pressure weighs on her, squeezing the air from her lungs with each passing day. It isn't just about passing or distracting herself, though they are reasons too — it's about survival. Failure isn't an option. She is taking three more subjects than most students, and every single one matters. If she wants any hope of securing a future outside of the war, outside of the cage she's forced herself in, she has to succeed. Sleep is a distant memory, one she chases but never quite catches. The quiet hum of the library becomes her lullaby, and the textbooks her only company.

Then, a letter arrives from Ollivander.

Her hands tremble as she breaks the wax seal in the privacy of her dorm, eyes scanning each line with growing anticipation. She barely registers the words, but the message is clear — provided she achieves at least four Outstandings in her N.E.W.T.s, she would be offered an apprenticeship under him. The deal Professor Sprout mentioned oh-so-long ago is now official. It's the sliver of hope she had been clinging to, a future beyond the war. For the first time in months, she allows herself to feel something like joy. Her hands clutch the letter tightly, like a lifeline, chest rising and falling in disbelief. It is real.

And she tells no one.

Cherry returns to her studies as usual, if with renewed determination. It doesn't go unnoticed. One evening, just as she is about to cast a Lumos to keep reading through yet another sleepless night, Lily and Dorcas storm into her dormitory like a well-planned ambush.

Dorcas snatches the book from her hands. "That's it. We're staging an intervention."

Cherry blinks at them, her mind sluggish and disoriented from lack of rest. "I don't need an intervention," she mutters, reaching for her book.

Lily holds up a plate of chocolate biscuits. "You do if you're willing to fight us for this textbook."

Cherry hesitates, her stomach betraying her with a quiet growl. There is something infuriatingly pleasant about Lily's concern, something that makes it so, so difficult to hate her.

And isn't that the problem?

Lily Evans makes it impossible for Cherry to keep pretending she could win this fight against her own heart. Regulus had been right — she had to try and get over James Potter. Holding onto something that had never been hers was only hurting her.

She is trying, she swears. But it's in times like these when Cherry feels especially guilty about her past actions.

With a reluctant sigh, Cherry allows them to drag her away from her books for the day, letting herself be wrapped in her friends' laughter and warmth, even if just for a little while. Mary and Marlene pull her into a game of Exploding Snap, into meaningless conversation with Lily and Dorcas about things other than war and tests. And for a moment, she forgets about the suffocating weight pressing down on her. The way Dorcas throws her head back laughing, the way Lily scrunches her nose when she loses, the way Mary and Marlene smile in pleasant surprise every time Cherry does — it's a world away from the paranoia that had settled into Cherry's bones.