Arcane (h.potter)

sᴇᴠᴇɴ- what you dont notice.

After being internally stripped into millions of tiny pieces, it's hard to try fit those parts back together. The human anatomy is like a huge puzzle, you see. Each organ, each cell, each limb, each bone. They tie together to create something so magnificent and so majestic that some people can't fathom to watch it bloom, a human life.

In reality, stripping a life from its roots and placing it into a situation it isn't satisfied with will only ever cause great harm. Whether that's emotionally or physically, it's enough to personally humiliate oneself.

So, as she lay in the moss of decaying brick woven walls, she felt alone and helpless, something she had never felt so openly about before. Her flimsy body was left to rest itself against a thick pillar, which helped the many other pillars around the dismal room support the stability of the space.

Continual droplets of rain fell from the ceiling of the room, which seemed to be bewitched to forever rain, splattered against the young girls face, making a puddle lay beneath her head. The distant shadows clouded the reflection of any source of light, allowing Alora to have nothing but darkness to stare into.

The mixture of exhaustion and lack of visibility made Alora's consciousness barely identify-able. However, as the slow buzzing in her ear faded out, everything around her fell silent.

And suddenly, the silence had so much to say.

Harry Potter wasn't a stranger to the silence, the days at the Dursley's home was every definition of silence. Not necessarily in the way where everything was quiet, it was more in a way that he was invisible to the family. No one spoke to him, no one acknowledged him and no one even accepted him unless it was completely necessary, even then they couldn't open their stone shut hearts enough to let him linger any longer than a minute or two.

However, the burrow was anything but quiet and sometimes that was overwhelming for Harry. The constant love and support he was offered there was unmatched from what he ever recalls feeling.

From above, Lily and James watch their son with absentminded smiles. The love they still hold for the young boy is strictly unbreakable and they feel truly grateful for Molly and Arthur being able to reciprocate those feelings towards Harry, for them.

So, seeing Harry in any sorts of danger broke their hearts. But after all, he was the son of James Potter and somehow Harry couldn't escape it, even if he tried.

Fleeing the scene was the obvious decision for Mr Weasley. So, after he met with the rest of his family, they were quick to head back to the port key and travel back home. Arthur stayed abnormally close to Harry that night, never letting him be unattended in case danger was to strike again.

Though, nothing further had happened.

At their return, Molly was eager to welcome them all inside with large wide eyes and panicked hugs and kisses. Insisting that they must eat, despite eating before the match, they all knew not to disturb the woman's distressed cooking as it was the only way she could distract herself from the intense emotions she felt in the given moment.

Sitting at the table, everyone had many questions they wished to receive answers for. One being the only thing that clouded Harry's mind.

"Dad. Who were they? You know, the ones that attacked." Ron suddenly broke the thoughtful silence, the sound of sizzling coming from the kitchen.

Arthur took a deep sigh before replying. "Death eaters. Followers of— You-Know-Who."

"But— how is that possible? Half of them fled at the sight of the— mark." Asked Bill, the oldest Weasley child.  "You would think if they truly were followers then they would have admired it." The mention of the dark mark sent shivers down all of their spines.