𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 𝐀 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐒.
⊰•*⭑☽ ͏
One of them, an amateur artist, is at her wit's end and often wonders what new thing will take place each year. After all...
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The walk back to the castle after what they heard was not in any way pleasant at all.
Carina and Harry had both broken away from Ron and Hermione to get back to the Honeyduke's cellar, and back through the tunnel they went. It didn't take ages this time, probably because the both of them were lost in their thoughts, their heads still pounding and were still quite in a great deal of sorrow. The strong grief taking its toll on them by resting it's weight heavily upon their shoulders.
It was starting to give Carina a headache, a doom of migraine grasping at her mind.
Crawling back up the slide and muttering the spell at the hunchbacked witch, crawling out of it and setting their feet down on the cold hard stone floor of Hogwarts. Harry hastily folded the invisibility cloak, tucking it in under his arms and mindlessly walked back to the Gryffindor common room. He stopped in his tracks though, when he realized that Carina was walking in an opposite direction.
"Where are you going?" Harry questioned. His tear stricken and bloodshot face looking at her.
"For a walk, in the forest. I need to clear my head." Carina curtly said. Picking up her pace, not sparing Harry a glance.
He only just nodded his head, His swollen green eyes looking down at the ground beneath him. They both needed their space right now and some time alone.
Going back to the common room alone the boy quickly ran up the staircase, and into his shared dormitory. Throwing the invisibility cloak on his bed, he pushed his books aside and grabbed what he was looking for. A leather-bound photo album that Hagrid had given him two years ago, which was full of moving photographs of his parents. He jumped up on his bed, sat down and drew the hanging curtains around him for privacy and began turning the pages searching for a specific picture.
And he found it.
His parents wedding day.
There was James Potter, his father, waving up at him. His face was shining with blinding happiness, practically beaming. His curly, untidy hair— much like Harry's, standing out in all different directions.
