Lorraine Winters was born into a secretive death eater family. They were known for being spies for Voldemort and so far no one on the outside knew. She was the youngest to wear the dark mark on her arm, having gotten it when she was a year old. When...
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[WORD COUNT: 1889]
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"How are you feeling?" Lorraine asked quietly as she played wizard's chess with Ron. She was yet to leave the Gryffindor common room after the shit show that was the Yule Ball.
Okay, maybe it wasn't a shit show. She actually had fun. She had so much fun and she had an inkling that it was only because of Ron. The boy could brighten even the darkest room, she imagined.
After that night she'd most definitely be close enough to Ron for him to share anything and everything. Although, she was also close enough that she was...hesitant to use him. Spending the last two--nearly three--months with the golden trio already led to the nurturing of a seed of doubt within her mind.
For the first time in her life, she didn't want to be on her parents' side.
"Alright," Ron replied simply, eyes trained on the chess board and eyebrows furrowed deeply. Lorraine watched with a small smile, making her move without a single thought in her head. Her mind was only focused on the boy in front of her.
"Checkmate," he said with a grin. "Gave up, did you?"
Her cheeks flooded with crimson and she bit the inside of her lip in the hopes of restraining her blush. There was no way she got lost in thought because of him. "I-I wasn't thinking," she muttered, shaking her head dismissively. "Want to go again?"
"I think you need to go back to your common room, actually," Ron said, tilting his head as he analysed her face. "You look like you have a fever." He pressed the back of his hand to her forehead and her mouth went agape at his confident action and how it made her not confident at all.
"You're burning up," he said with furrowed eyebrows, standing from his chair and holding out a hand for her to take. She tentatively touched her forehead and glanced at him briefly, before nodding.
She needed to get out of there.
"Y-Yeah, alright, Ron," she whispered, following him to the common room exit/entrance. Her eyes widened when he walked out and began walking in the direction of the Hufflepuff common room.
"Coming?" Ron asked, stopping briefly to ensure that she was following him. She nodded and hurriedly began following him to avoid further embarrassment. She was a mess.
The walk was quiet but comfortable. Lorraine stewed in her thoughts of Ron and the night she had. It really was because of him that she had such a delightful night. For one night he flooded her dim and grey world with a splash of colour, bringing life to the dead. Bringing doubts to her head, like a torrential rain that flooded her mind and threatened to drown her. Her gasps for air--her oxygen--was him.
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