i ⟶ Scar Tissue

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i. Scar Tissue
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FIRST AND FOREMOST, Thea Cindercroft knows that there is nothing subtle about her.
It helps her, sometimes, like when she needs to stand up for someone, or herself. It does not help her when her face is plastered across the front page of the Daily Prophet, the slogan 'UNDESIRABLE No. 2' stamped above it in thick, black letters.

Her childhood home, silent and all packed up in boxes, surrounds her, and she can just make out the 'FOR SALE' sign outside in the darkening summer evening. She lets out a sigh and glances around the room, her eyes landing on the perfectly folded Gryffindor uniform in a cardboard box on the chair next to the one she's sat on. She won't get rid of it because if she gets through this shit, the first thing she's doing is finishing school. Like a normal witch would. She isn't normal, but that's besides the point. She decides that pretending is almost as good as the real thing.

She can't stop her gaze from focusing on the markings of her height on the doorframe, one mark for every year from being one up until she was fifteen and Lyra had more important things to remember than her daughter. She rolls her eyes, but only so she doesn't cry.

Looking at the clock, she notices that there are only ten more seconds until the clock strikes eight, when someone from the Order will come to pick her up to take her to the Burrow. They still haven't taught her how to Apparate, which sets her nerves on edge. She still can't help but feel out of place with them all, even though she's Harry's girlfriend. Speaking of Harry, they also decided, without consulting her, that she would not be taking part in the mission to save her boyfriend. They seemed to have forgotten that she's an adult who can make her own decisions, thank you very much. It took Ron an hour to calm her down, to the point where he ended up shouting at her that she'll put them all twice as much at risk by simply being there and he'd never forgive her if Fred, George, Hermione, his father, any of the Order, or her, died. After, she mumbled a quiet, "Alright, alright you could have just said 'anyone',". He retorted, "It was for effect."

She knows that. And it worked, alright, which is exactly why after his little lecture, she fell silent and hugged him tight.

She sighs again, just as a loud crack bounces around the room, startling her a little.

She smiles widely at Mrs Weasley, a little surprised by their choice of who they sent to pick her up, but comforted and warmed by the sight of her. She fills the gap her mother left, even though she doesn't see her often. Thea thinks maybe Mrs Weasley is just the kind of person who fills gaps. Kind of like the opposite of her and Lyra, who make them. Well, made them, in Lyra's case. She's still getting used to that.

"Hello, dear, are you alright?"

Thea makes her way over, grabbing her bag from under the table. In it, she has her purse, her wand, a few changes of clothes, and her toiletries. She also has a small photo of her, Harry and Ron that Hermione took because the two girls had bickered over something stupid, thus causing Hermione to refuse to get into the photo. And a photo of her and Dean. There's an old letter from Jude that she makes herself leave behind, tucked into her pillow case in one of the boxes, safe and sound.

"I'm OK, just...worried."

Mrs Weasley doesn't say anything for a moment, and Thea knows exactly why. She simply offers her a weak smile before taking her arm. Mrs Weasley speaks in a soft voice, one that Thea only just hears.

"Everyone will be safer this way. You're doing the right thing."

Thea is sure she's right. She just can't calm the nerves in her body, because if there's anything she hates more than being helpless, it's not knowing.

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