'And he's the best fuck that ever walked. He's beautiful - rich, in money and everything else; he's a rockstar to boot, trapped in the body of a fighter. And how he fought; at a state of turmoil with himself - somewhere inside his soul that only she...
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♱
'Past is filled with silent joys and broken toys Laughing girls and teasing boys Was I ever in love? I called it love, I mean, it felt like love There were moments when
Well, tomorrow's a long way off Maybe someday I'll have somebody's hand Maybe somewhere someone will understand You know I used to sing
A tisket, a tasket, a green and yellow basket I'm all packed up and I'm on my way and I'm going to fall in love But at the moment it doesn't look good At the moment it will never happen again'
CW: mentions of drug/alcohol abuse.
Hera had slept in many beds over the years — none truly her own.
She could only burden her friend's parents for so long before being overcome by guilt and that sneaking reminder that she would never be accepted in a place that was supposed to be her home.
The single bed she and Harry shared at the Dursleys didn't belong to them and frankly, they were counting down the days until they could live in a place of their own. They made do only by wedging pillows down the small gap between the wall to allow for a little separation. Oftentimes, Harry slept closest to the wall, his leg falling onto the pillows that cushioned the bed frame, while Hera's leg dangled over the opposite end of the bed, nearer the floor.
At Hogwarts, Hera was one of the few students that did not decorate the walls surrounding their bed. What use was it? It wasn't her room, it was merely the place she laid her head to rest at the end of the day. That wasn't to say she hadn't tried to decorate before, but the fact of the matter was, Hera didn't have all that many possessions.
She'd accumulated some clothes over the years from charity shops (mainly vintage coats and boots) but whenever she was at the Dursleys she was dressed like one of the Stepford Wives — or, put simply, like her aunt.
She had one handbag — a cheap turquoise 'leather', which, as the seams deteriorated to reveal the ugly floral print within, she concealed with some fabric from the scraps of a leopard scarf.
