Truth Written in Ink || hjp.

1. numb.

"You can do this," she muttered. "You just have to be nicer, that's all."

✠

The sound of birds chirping pulled her out of Morpheus's arms. Elora wished she could stay in bed forever, not wanting to have any responsibilities or the obligation to face reality. But instead of sinking back into her thoughts, she rubbed her eyes and stood up. She had to start someday.

It just wouldn't be the same without her, it wouldn't be the same going back to school knowing that she will never be there again to welcome her with open arms and tell the things she did over the summer or stuff like that.

Stop it, she thought. This is just going to make it worse.

The ride to the station was pretty quiet. Her mum and dad took her to the station in her grandad's old car, another person she trully missed. She hadn't seen him in a really long time, since he worked as a teacher in another wizarding school besides Hogwarts.

El also never quite understood why couldn't they just apparate to the station. They were wizards after all, weren't they? But her father insisted she was still too young. If she was young then, maybe apparating would be an option once she turned thirty.

"This is it," her father said, parking the car. "Everyone ready?"

She nodded, he gave her a soft smile and they got off the small car. He wore his usual brownish jacket, covered with pins from around the world. Elora used to joke about how he had to leave that jacket to her once he didn't want it anymore.

"Oh no," he had said, sipping his butterbeer. "Over my dead body."

That was when she did not feel so distant to them, specially to him. There seemed to be a lot on his mind lately, not to mention he was the only person she tolerated at home. But grief hasn't been generous to her either, so it was quiet in the Pembroke's home. All besides her mother's yelling.

Feeling very small, she slowly slipped a hand between his. Her dad raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything, just squeezed back and continued walking while looking straight ahead.

They went through the wall and wallah, they arrived to the prettiest place in the whole universe. Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. The big, scarlet train welcomed them with its loud whistle, letting everyone know it was almost time for them to leave. And for a moment, she expected her kind eyes to show up, to pull her out of her summer's misery with her stories and jokes and laughs and smile and. . .

But that didn't happen. And it would never happen again. She had to keep that in mind.

Elora pulled her hand away from her father's grip and took a deep breath. At the train she would have even more time to overthink, meaning Olive's death would only feel worse with time. Lovely.

It's not like she could help it, her absence was a piercing knife through her heart. But no tight throat, no tears, just her and the emptiness of the situation.

"I know it's hard," her father began, attempting a small smile. "But remember that you're strong. Don't think otherwise."

"Yeah but," the words slipped out of her. "I-," she swallowed. "I don't want to go." ...Without her.

"I know El, but, she would've liked you to move on remember?"

The famous words all people tell the grieving. She, He, They would've liked you to. The best phrase of manipulation there could be out there to someone suffering a loss.