In another time, Harry was in this very same office, sitting on this very same chair as the very same Headmaster once more delayed what needed to be told, what needed to be put into action, what needed to be said. Adeline, unknowing of his inner turmoil, waited patiently for him to speak, her ankles crossed, resting on the floor beneath the worn stool, hands together in her lap, eyes wandering around the intriguing decorations scattered around his office. She was so loving, so polite—she'd done absolutely nothing to deserve this. But for her safety, her wellbeing, this needed to be done—it was, ultimately, for her own good.
For a girl who sits so poised, her back so naturally straight, whose charming English accent like birdsong ringing from the woods on a warm afternoon, this news wasn't easy to break. A girl so strong yet so scarred—who still flinches at the raging storm beyond the room, forked lightning striking across the cloud-ridden sky as thunder clapped like a giant's applause, rain pelting against the somewhat grimy circular windows.
And when he did tell her, his voice low, nearly impossible to hear from the crashing sky, the candles in which lit the office extinguished, their light and their warmth disappearing, plunging the office into darkness. Smoke curled from the candlewicks and gradually drifted through the air, leaving comforting though almost sickening scents of vanilla and cinnamon to flood the room, the small tap of her shoes on the floor being the only sound Adeline made as she stood and walked to the door. It creaked as she opened it and stood there for a moment before tentatively slipping through the gap, leaving the Headmaster alone in the now dark and dreary office. The thunder didn't stop for a long while, and the fat raindrops and rigged lightning only grew.
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She walked through the corridors with Harry, Ron and Hermione, two of which in their maroon and gold Quidditch uniforms, polished, shiny broomsticks in their gloved hands—courtesy of a spell Hermione discovered the previous stormy night.
Misty rain still poured from the cloudy sky, however; the grass that usually enclosed the Quidditch Pitch turned muddy; the kind that sticks to the bottom of your shoes just to dry up later and drop fragments off, no matter how soft you walk across the carpet. Hermione was well prepared for this weather—bundled in a soft scarf beneath her rain jacket, tying her hair up as they walked, ready to tuck it in her hood in order to save it from frizzing. Harry, who was walking right beside Adeline, had been appointed Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. She was very happy for him, even if she didn't exactly understand the sport, as it was something he clearly enjoyed very much. Tryouts for the team were being held this morning, and though fun, it was difficult to play Quidditch in the rain, and the sheer look of the clouds showed they weren't going to stop anytime soon.
Seeing Adeline didn't have her own rain jacket, Harry had let her borrow one of his. It reached down to her mid-thigh and hid away her small hands in the long sleeves, a small smile on her face despite the bad weather as the brand new, cream sweater generously given to her from Hermione warmed Addie up significantly beneath the black jacket.
As they parted, the boys heading to the centre of the pitch toward the already gathered Gryffindor's, Hermione and Adeline walked up to the stands, sitting a few rows behind Lavender Brown and a couple of seats away from Luna Lovegood—who came to support Ginny, one of her closest friends. The Weasley daughter had come down earlier than the others had in order to fit in a last minute practice before the tryouts, shown from her drenched uniform and hair from the rain, her nose and cheeks pink, radiating heat—something the others couldn't relate to as they stood shivering, crossing their arms or breathing into their ice-cold hands for warmth.
Adeline was keen to watch her friends; it was always fun to see people flying on broomsticks—to her, anyway. Their techniques of speeding up and tricks like spinning they had up their sleeves were always entertaining to her—she could never get bored during one of the games, especially the intensity between the Gryffindor and Slytherin games.
However, just as she settled in, just after Harry sent her a wave and Ron shot them a grin and Ginny winked at them, followed by a laugh, Professor McGonagall walked over to them in the stands, her back straight and head held high as per usual. Her typical smile to Adeline, one that was motherly, caring, was however replaced with her usual, almost emotionless, expression—she wore it like a mask to which concealed her truthful mood.
"Miss Riddle," She said, grabbing both Adeline and Hermione's attention, the latter watching with confusion scribbled across her face. "You know what Professor Dumbledore said."
"But he said I could be outside as long as I'm with someone!"
From the pitch, hearing Addie's raised voice, Harry looked over, taking his eyes off the Quidditch game he was supposed to be monitoring in order to squint to see her better, the wind pushing his already messy hair in all kinds of directions.
"Only for absolute emergencies or under a Professors' instruction." McGonagall recited Dumbledore's exact words, reluctance threaded through her tone.
"Please, Professor! I'm with Hermione and I'm near all of these people," Adeline motioned to the Quidditch players, her hand purposefully lingering as she pointed to Harry for emphasis. "I'll be safe; I am safe. Besides, they haven't even gotten through the shield."
"No exceptions. Moreover, it's freezing out here! Weather like this surely won't help your condition." Addie's brow furrowed slightly at that word; 'condition'. What 'condition'?
Harry's previous smile had long gone as Addie stood, mumbled something to Hermione, and began walking back along the stands with McGonagall in the lead. His eyes following them, he looked for clues as to where she was going or why, but to no avail, Adeline looking back once more before disappearing into the castle doors.
"Harry! That was a foul—wasn't it?" The echoing voice of Ginny reached his ears. He turned back to the, now paused, game to see all players on their hovering brooms watching him. He felt the tips of his ears turn red.
Ginny was face to face with Cormac McLaggen, a rather bigheaded, over-confident Gryffindor going for the same place on the Quidditch team as Ron was, not to mention it seemed he'd taken a fancy to Hermione—which only added to Ron's hatred for the blond and his consistent arrogant smirk.
"Uh... yeah. McLaggen's foul."
a/n:
i wish i uploaded this on my birthday a couple days ago but whoops
i feel so bad for addie aw
also trust hit 31.9k um excuse me what
and for the new readers—hey guys! i'm georgia, which is kinda obvious, given past authors notes you may or may not have read and it's literally my display name but whatever,, welcome to my story!
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