⫶⫶⫶ ᴇ ᴅ ᴇ ʟ y ɴ ⫶⫶⫶
― Edelyn Aurélia Black learned
from a young age that h e r o e s
aren't always the ones who win.
They're the ones who fight. And
so, Edelyn fights, until the green
lying dormant beh...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝓣𝐨 𝓑𝐞 𝐚 𝓑𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐢𝐫
⟠
Frederick Gideon Weasley's lips tasted sweet — sticky and sugary like the lollies at Honeydukes that Mr Diggory always told were going to rot her teeth. A cavity's galore! But like the tummy aches that followed trips to Hogsmeade, it lingered bitterly — the scorching burn of firewhiskey.
Edelyn didn't know how to feel. She didn't know what to think. Her skin flushed hot. She squeezed her eyes and tried to pull the image away — erase it from her mind! But the ghost of his lips remained pressed against hers. The scent of burnt gunpowder and a flowery shampoo. Blimey, Fred! A storm of mixed emotions raged in her mind, all of which involved his dark brown eyes and stupid freckled grin. She groaned into her pillow. Why? Why, Fred? Why?
She laid awake, staring up at the Ballycastle Bats poster atop her four-poster bed. She fought the urge to wake Hermione ( Hermione always knew what to do ). She thought of Ron. She thought of Harry. She thought of Harry and Cho snogging in the middle of the common room, his tongue entwined with hers — her tongue that once bewitched Cedric.
Was this the joys of fifteen George had spoken of?
Teenage angst, however, didn't have time to muster. As Edelyn's lashes finally fluttered closed, sleep welcoming her in its warm embraces, she was rudely awakened by Professor McGonagall and tossed into a nightmare far worse than the ones in her dreams.
"What — what do you mean Amos was attacked by a snake?"
"Quick, quick! To the Headmaster's office, Miss Black."
The Headmaster's office turned into number twelve Grimmauld Place. Edelyn clutched at the golden snitch around her neck, right leg twitching as she sat in the basement kitchen. Remus was gripping her shoulder. Harry and Sirius, meanwhile, were sat across the table, both grim and solemn. They waited in silence for Mr and Mrs Weasley's return from St Mungo's Hospital of Magical Maladies and Injuries ( they had accompanied Mrs Diggory for moral support ). It wasn't until a quarter to six did the distant sounds of metallic clinks ring followed by hushed whispers and footsteps. A few seconds later, the Weasleys entered the kitchen door and Edelyn's eyes locked with Mrs Weasley's.
"A-Amos is going to be fine," she said. "He's recovering nicely."
Sirius, Remus, and Harry all exhaled with relief, but Edelyn continued to stare at the elder witch. She felt no comfort. No happiness. Only rage. A terrible, blinding rage. It coursed through the veins of her body like lava and tingles of electricity ran down her fingertips as her hands clenched into fists.
