"All I wished for was to not be a Slytherin. Pure blood supremacy was woven into the material of those jade coloured ties and I would rather strangle myself with one than wear it."
After returning from her time spent on the run, Lyra, unruly, sarcas...
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-Lyra Emerald- I couldn't move, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't see. I didn't even have the energy to cry as I lay in a heap on the floor of my own bedroom. There was no room I hated more on this earth, it had been my cell for 16 years, suffocating and confined and utterly vile.
Now, I thought to myself, now I am definitely at rock bottom. There was nothing left. My legs ached as well as my head, and I couldn't quite seem to get my thoughts into order.
But all I could think was how I had done this to myself. No one else was to blame. I choose to become a death eater, I choose to not tell the Dark Lord about the diadem. And, with all that was going on, all I wished for was to know. Know what it did, know why it was held with such importance. I couldn't understand. What relevance was a Ravenclaw tiara?
I wondered where Draco was but my mind felt tangled and lost and I didn't know what was really going on. I didn't have the strength to weigh up possibilities, I just prayed he wasn't dead. He needed to be alive. He had to.
I wanted to sit up, survey my surroundings and fix myself a plan. But I just couldn't. And this vulnerable feeling was one I was not accustomed to.
I closed my eyes. If I could be anywhere but here, I allowed my mind to wonder, I didn't have the strength to stop it.
My mind drifted, to a place I craved so strongly, it ached even more. But this was a place where pain was not even a contemplation, pain did not exist in this realm.
The grass was soft under my feet, fresh but not cold, and the warm sun spread across my fair skin as though welcoming me with a close embrace. The cottage stood only a few metres away from me now, and I smiled at its presence. The sound of the stream and the birds and the hum of the surrounding woodland carried on the afternoon breeze, there, yet not loud. Quiet yet not silent. It was peaceful.
The house stood strong but not so grand that it intruded its surroundings. It was stone, and simple, sturdy. Unruly, green ivy made its way across the brickwork, captivating most of the house with its grassy leaves. From the large windows I could see Draco inside, washing the dishes at the sink by hand, his wand tucked behind his ear, his face flushed with a summer glow, a happy radiance that made me happy too. He was humming to himself and I could hear it faintly through the open window. By the window grew an apple tree, not quite a sapling but young and tender, fresh in its new roots. I would one day put a rope swing there, I thought to myself, once the tree had grown.
A smile snuck onto my face. I was happy. So utterly, consuming my happy here.
Flowers grew along the path that led into the forest and I followed them with my eyes until the pathway disappeared from view. The woods were bright, they welcomed me in a way, it was entrancing as the sun set just below the tops of the branches. Turning back to the house, Draco now sat on the bench, just beside the door, a familiar book in one hand, an inky quill in the other, a basket of green apples sat near his feet. He looked so engrossed in the pages, his blue eyes following the words without a care in world, his quill making small notes as he went along. It was then, I noticed Ebon, sitting on the fence beside the cottage. He was cleaning his feathers, perched comfortably, nearly blending into the late summer scenery behind him. This was the only future I could possibly want, this was peace. Perhaps this is heaven I thought.
