𝐎, 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃 ⎥ "He wants a fight with
a God? I'll give him one."
﹙ from stardust we came, to stardust we return ﹚
Prisoner of Azkaban - Deathly Hollows
...
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☾✶☽
"C'MERE, LARA, HARRY . . ."
"No."
"Yeh can' stay here, Harry. . . . Come on, now. . . ."
"No."
Neither wanted to leave Dumbledore's side, they did not want to move anywhere. Hagrid's hand on Elara's shoulder was trembling.
Then another voice said, "Come on."
A much smaller and warmer hand had clasped around Elara's waist, tugging her upwards. She stumbled before Harry snapped out of his stupor to come to Elara's aid. Incomprehensible voices battered her, sobs and shouts and wails stabbed the night, but Elara, Harry, and Ginny walked on, back up the steps into the entrance hall. Faces swam on the edges of Elara's vision, people were peering at her, whispering, wondering, and Gryffindor rubies glistened on the floor like drops of blood as they made their way toward the marble staircase.
"We're going to the hospital wing," said Ginny.
"I'm not hurt," said Elara stubbornly.
"You literally have a bloody gash across your face. Besides, it's McGonagall's orders," said Ginny, ignoring Elara's usual affinity for pretending she's fine. "Everyone's up there, Ron and Hermione and Lupin and everyone —"
Fear stirred in Elara's chest again: She had forgotten the inert figures she and Harry had left behind.
"Ginny, who else is dead?"
"Don't worry, none of us."
"But the Dark Mark — Draco said he stepped over a body —"
"He stepped over Bill, but it's all right, he's alive."
There was something in her voice, however, that Elara knew boded ill.
