Draco
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Is this how it feels? To have someone you care for so dearly... leave? I'm not sure. But I know I have to talk to her again.
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Layla
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How had I come to rely on this boy so much? How had I grown to care and trust him? I'm not sure. But I kno...
Like I said, distraction was helpful. But now, Layla was thinking again. She had managed to heal her own arm, but the leg would wait till morning due to her lack of energy.
She had taken refuge on the front porch. The breeze was relaxing, despite the fact she couldn't stand the cold.
Suddenly, the door opened. Layla cautiously watched as Harry hobbled down the front steps before announcing herself. "Where you of to, Chosen One?" He spun around, confused about why some broken Hufflepuff was watching him. But he kept walking. "Come back, or I'll chase you."
"You can barely walk. Good luck chasing me." He said over his shoulder.
"Watch me," Layla winced, standing up and stumbling over to Harry, who watched on in horror. "Holy shit. It's a good thing I have high pain tolerance. Where the fuck are you going?" She huffed, tired of the constant 'excitement.'
"I'm leaving. I can't have anyone else dying for me." She gaped at the boy's ignorance but was saved from the yelling as Ron came out and began scolding Harry.
She watched on, rolling her eye at the two. What was with it with guys and their bloody emotions? They seemed to go on forever, but Layla remained silent. Well, until Harry began saying he needed to leave alone before Voldemort got too powerful.
"Harry," she said, causing the two boys to turn her way. "Going out there and getting yourself killed. That won't do anything. Cedric, Moody, Dumbledore. They wouldn't want that. You know everyone in there who is actively fighting with you? Do them a favour and don't ruin their hard work. Now get back inside because I'm freezing."
He looked at the ground, thinking before grabbing his bag with help from Ron. They both walked towards the house. Leaving Layla to hobble. Eventually, gaining assistants from the redhead.
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The next day had arrived, and it was now Bill and Fleur's wedding. Layla had spent the morning healing her leg and helping Molly prepare food and clean. But now, she had been dragged away by Hermione, who insisted on Layla helping her get ready. Hermione had a red dress that looked very flattering on her, and Layla's dress was a green summer dress that seemed much more casual.
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It took the two not long to get ready as Layla just pulled Hermione's hair up and curled her own. They also both decided against wearing too much makeup, instead opting for a much more natural look.
Hermione fussed as she looked in the mirror, but Layla decided just to head down. She wasn't in the mood to see herself.
And just as well Layla did. She just caught the tail end of a rather awkward exchange between Harry and Ginny. They were kissing. I mean, it didn't half surprise her. She knew they would end up together at some point.
But as she stood by George, the whole thing became so much more exciting. As they broke apart, noticing her and George's presence, George chirped. "Morning." He winked as Ginny walked away uncomfortably. She giggled a little as Harry rushed off.
George and Layla shared knowing glances. "Well, you look very well today," he said, linking arms with Layla. She smiled.
Not to worry. George and Layla were more like siblings than anything else.
"Well, I could say the same. You look rather dashing with a toothbrush sticking out of your head."
The morning continued to work for everyone. The tent was put up, food prep continued, and everyone was getting ready. But another event was yet to occur. If you give it a moment, it will come into play.
Suddenly, a loud bang interrupted the unusually peaceful day.
"Bloody hell," George squinted in the direction of the sound. "What's the Minister of Magic doing here?"
Everyone murmured slightly as the rather ominous, scruffy-looking man approached.
"What, who's that?" Charles said, tugging on Layla's sleeve.
"The Minister of Magic... Charles, can you go help Molly for a bit." Her reply was rather cold, but for all the right reasons. Layla refused to let Charles get messed up like the rest of them. And the arrival of this man didn't sit right with her.
Harry, Hermione and Ron all hiked off. But on the way, Hermione had latched onto Layla, taking her with them. Layla cringed, not wanting to be near the commotion. But it seemed she no longer had a choice in the matter.
"To what do we owe the pleasure, Minister?" Harry asked.
"I think we both know the answer to that question, Mr Potter."
He ushered all of us to sit before placing something on the table. Something about the event felt familiar. So much so, a sick feeling rose in Layla's stomach.
"And this is?" Harry questioned in complete ignorance.
With the use of the man's wand, he lifted a piece of parchment in the air before reading the context aloud.
"Herein is set forth the last will and testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore." Ron fidgeted furiously beside Layla, who sat between the two boys. Still confused about why she was here. "First, to... Layla Jules Diggory."
Layla's jaw dropped. Why on earth would Dumbledore ever leave something to her? Her - The girl who had fallen in love with the boy set to kill him. It didn't make sense. Yet, here we are.
"I leave my favourite journal and quill, hoping this will give her room to express her thoughts." The man handed her the journal, the quill enveloped inside.
A simple journal.
It didn't make sense to Layla.
Now, she wasn't the closest to Dumbledore... But she knew the man wasn't the type to leave just a plain journal... There had to be something to it and the quill.
She lifted the quill from the pages passing it between her hands. But then, she saw it. Writing carved into the side. It wasn't very tidy and seemed as though a younger student had written it. But somehow, the way in which it was carved comforted Layla. Reminding her that he was still there.
