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
...
ELARA WOKE EARLY next morning, wrapped in many blankets on the drawing-room floor. A chink of sky wasvisible between the heavy curtains: it was the cool, clear blue of watered ink, somewhere between nightand dawn, and everything was quiet except for Harry, Ron, and Hermione's slow, deep breathing.
Elara glancedover at the dark shapes they made on the floor beside her. Harry still had his arms wrapped around her, and she wanted to stay little while longer. The blankets hadn't done mch to satisfy the ever growing coldness that loomed in the house. However, Harry was warm.
She looked up at the shadowy ceiling, the cobwebbed chandelier. Less than twenty-four hours ago shehad been standing in the sunlight at the center of the marquee, performing a light show. Itseemed a lifetime away. What was going to happen now? She lay on the floor and she thought of the Horcruxes, of the daunting, complex mission Dumbledore had left her and Harry ... Dumbledore ...
She sighed, not wanting to think about what had happened. Harry rustled beside her, and he rubbed his eyes.
"Morning," whispered Elara as Harry felt around the hardwood floor for his glasses.
Harry groaned in response, more than obviously hating the fact he was up so early. He tightened his hold on Elara and let his head fall back on the pillow again. She struggled for a moment to get free so she could satisfy her coffee itch, but to no avail.
