'She was designed as the weapon,
Yet he's the one fighting
To protect her'
><><
It was childish of them to think Hermione wouldn't figure it out—that she wouldn't react the same even after an entire week to them sneaking out.
This left the trio to visit the snowy Hogsmeade without Addie, much to Harry's dismay, as Hermione didn't exactly trust them being alone together again, 'the consequences would have been so much worse if anyone other than me had found out; you do realise that?' she'd reasoned. 'Addie isn't meant to leave the castle!'
The two agreed with her statement completely—though even after she scolded them, much like a mother with her misbehaving children, and made them promise never to put themselves at risk like that again, regret was non-existent between Harry and Adeline, sending goofy faces to each other the second Hermione's back faced one of them. An action she also caught sight of—due to Ron's laughter followed with Hermione spinning around too quick for Addie to uncross her eyes and stick her tongue back in her mouth.
Breathing as rhythmic as swells on a sea, Addie wandered the stone corridors, hugging herself as the icy air crawled through her clothes. She was pale, and though that was normal for the winter months, given her skin was already so light, she was too pale. It had become noticeable to Adeline that warmth was something very difficult to achieve by herself out of the blue. She'd informed Madame Pomphrey of this, whose face turned an expression that would've been alien to Ad at the beginning of the school year—unfortunately, however, it was a lot more common these days.
The quiet, watery light reached in through the cold glass, its dismal shine disfigured from the drying raindrops that scattered the window as it brushed the wall. She shivered, yet further approached the frame to outside just as it began to snow onto the greyscale landscape, the Black Lake rippling from indistinct creatures lurking beneath its surface. Her eyes switched focus to that of her reflection, and that girl, that innocent, scarred girl, was tired. It was in the tired dark circles beneath her tired light eyes that used to twinkle feverishly—it was in her dehydrated skin and tangled hair and wrinkly clothes and tired, tired smile.
So, so tired.
A figure appeared behind her reflection's sunken shoulder, and she turned around to meet Draco's also tired light eyes; one of their few similarities.
"Can I talk to you?" He asked without a greeting; she nodded, and they began walking.
><><
"Look. I know Potter doesn't like me," Draco started, and though his voice was quiet, it echoed through the deserted corridor—along with their subtle footsteps.
"He hates you," Adeline stated bluntly, though it was intertwined with innocence—an unknowing of how that phrase could be interpreted.
"He hates me," Draco nodded, chuckling. "But...that doesn't mean we can't be friends. You're...you're fantastic company and I think we could make a very strong duo."
Adeline stopped walking.
"But..." She thought, her brow furrowed as she studied the floor—a habit of hers when she's thinking. Addie looked back up to him. "But what would Harry say? Wouldn't he be...sad?"
"We don't have to tell Potter. You should be allowed to be friends with whoever you want; his opinions shouldn't limit you." He encouraged, Adeline nodding gradually as he spoke.
