Hell Heart ❤️‍🔥 Harry Potter [1]

xxviii ⟶ Lyra

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xxvii. Lyra
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CHRISTMAS SOON APPEARS around the corner, and Thea's glad to finally get the chance to relax and have a break from work and maybe, just maybe, take some time to herself to get her mess of a life together and figure out what she wants to do. She's realised she's not very good at balance.

The worst thing about almost finishing the term is that her biggest distraction from the horrors going on with the war is taken away. Soon, thoughts of Draco's tremor and Jude's dark circles and Eden's pasty skin start to trickle in, and she notices the terrible breakouts on her face she's getting and her habit of biting her nails down to the bone has come back in full force.

Today is the day of Slughorn's party, and she's so full of nerves that Polly has to literally drag her down to tea at five that evening.

"For God's sake, woman, you're going to a party, not a funeral!" Polly says as they make their way down to the common room, Polly's arm linked firmly in Thea's.

"I know that! I'm just...nervous." Thea looks down when the heat rushes to her cheeks.

She's going on a date with Harry! A date! At least, she thinks it's a date... maybe he doesn't want to go with her anymore? Thea frowns for a moment, before telling herself he would've told her if he'd changed his mind and found somebody else to go with, which he hasn't done, so...

"Earth to Thea!"

The girl jumps a mile in the air, turning to Polly with eyes as wide as an owl's.

"Sorry, I zoned out." Thea's response is short, her lips tightly pressed together in an effort to minimise the incessant nerves dancing through her whole body.

"Again," Polly replies curtly, before sighing. "Thea, if there's something going on –"

"I'm fine, Polly, I promise. I'm just really hungry." Thea tries to give the girl a convincing smile, one she's tired of trying to form.

An hour later, Thea trudges back up to her dorm to get ready, leaving Polly with Parvarti Patil in the Great Hall.

She starts sorting through her trunk and tries on all things from tailored trousers and satin blouses before her fingers land on a familiar material right at the bottom.

After a moment of debating, she pulls it out, ignoring the cascade of items flowing onto the already chaotic floor.

She smooths her fingers over the sleek green silk and the scent of sea salt and sandalwood fills her nose. Her mother's perfume seems to have been stitched into her old dress, along with the initials L.V sewn into the inside in silver.  Thea rolls her eyes; her mother wasn't even in Slytherin, but she would've fit in so well it hurts. Deciding it's the only appropriate outfit she has for the occasion, she slips into it and likes the coolness of the material that reaches before her knee and the straps that are tied in delicate bows of ribbon.

She fiddles in Polly's makeup bag for a moment, struggles with necklace clasps and earring backs before she's staring at herself in the mirror.

She shivers at the sight of her scarlet lips, long eyelashes and curls falling down her back, and then she can't look anymore. She turns around and pulls on a pair of black flats before rushing out, because she looks so much like the young Lyra that she saw in her father's memory that she could cry.

It's two minutes to eight when she reaches the Entrance Hall, where Harry told her to meet him. He's not here yet, but a flock of girls are, and she can hear them whispering about him.