⫶⫶⫶ 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...
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
SAUSAGES, EGGS, AND FRENCH TOAST — such is the pleasant concoction of aromas Edelyn awakes to on the eleventh of November, and she is instantly reminded of those winter Sundays back in her youth when she would sip hot chocolate with Cedric by the fireplace, watching the snow fall from outside the window as Mrs Diggory cooked breakfast in the kitchen. "The dragons aren't going to be happy," Mr Diggory would say as he looked up from that day's Daily Prophet, and Cedric would pipe up, "But this means snowball fight on our brooms!"
The memory brings a smile to Edelyn's lips and her fingers instinctively reach up to wrap around the golden snitch that still hangs around her neck. She inhales deeply and sighs softly, snuggling herself deeper under the covers. Is it her imagination, or can she even hear Mrs Diggory's soft humming drift in through the door? She allows herself to listen for a few more moments, then scrunches her brow; the sound is far too vivid.
Blinking her eyes open, she rolls over her shoulders and mutters, "Harry, do you hear—?" But upon seeing his spot on the bed empty, she cuts herself short. Sitting upright, she rubs her face and scratches her head.
The cool air from outside seeps through the window and nips at the bare skin of her lower thighs, uncovered by her pyjama shorts, as she crawls out of bed. Pulling on one of Harry's jumpers, which she was pretty certain once belonged to Dudley Dursley for it draped over her like a dress, she ties her hair into a quick bun and steps out into the hall, following the alluring scent into the living room.
"AH!" she yelps as a pair of arms suddenly wrap around her waist from behind. Her feet leave the floor as she is lifted, twirling 360 degrees in the air, the sight of Ron and Hermione sitting on the sofa passing by in a blur, before she is settled back down to the ground. "What the—?"
"Morning, sunshine," a voice chimes, and Edelyn feels the familiar touch of Harry's lips press into her cheek.
"You're chipper," she remarks, spinning on her heels to give him a curious look.
He shrugs and captures her into a quick kiss. "I'm excited," he says.
She tilts her head. "Excited for what?" she asks.
Harry opens his mouth to respond, but then quickly closes it as colour drains from his face. His arms drop from around her and he steps away, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Edelyn looks at him questioningly, then turns back around when she hears a cough from behind.
"Oh." Her cheeks flush a light shade of red. "Amos," she greets with an awkward smile, wondering just how much of the exchange he had witnessed.
It appears that he has witnessed far too much for his liking, for the expression on Mr Diggory's face is far from impressed. He sends Harry a stern look, eyes slightly narrowed, but then his features soften as his gaze lands on Edelyn. He outstretches his arms and chugs, "Happy birthday, Lyn."
