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I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night
· ━━━━ · ✣ · ━━━━ ·
The shock of losing Moody was around the house, distilled in the air and forcing its way into the consciousness of the mourners.
However, there was no time to dwell over his death; Bill and Fleur's wedding preparations were enough to get Addy's mind off of anything in reality.
Meanwhile, it seemed to have the opposite effect on Harry, who had tried to run away several times to keep everyone in the Burrow safe. He didn't want the distractions and had the urge to search for the horcruxes.
He was never successful however, being stopped by Ron each time.
Addy managed to avoid Harry whenever he entered a room or took a seat beside her, afraid that she wouldn't be able to control her emotions.
Everything was still fresh, she realized, and the pain in her chest hadn't gone away.
But it was amusing seeing Sirius chase him around the house with countless hexes on the tip of his tongue.
The day before the wedding arrived quickly, which was also Harry's birthday. She obviously couldn't steer clear from him today, so she mentally lectured herself to act serene and unbothered.
She made her way down the staircases of the Burrow, clutching her present to him in her hands while walking stiff and slow.
A scoff left her lips as she wondered what gift she might've given him if they were still together, just like he'd given to her birthday.
Addy entered the kitchen, where Hermione and Ron sat at the table, examining the pile of Harry's presents that had already been unwrapped by him earlier. They were speaking with each other with a smile playing at the corners of their lips, head close together.
"Where's Harry?" she asked the two, glancing around and taking note of his absence.
"In the attic!" Ron replied overenthusiastically.
Hermione nodded eagerly, "Go on! Give him your gift!"
Addy rose her brows, surprised by their behavior and shook her head with a sigh. However, she turned away and began to ascend up the stairs again.
Her heart thudded as she elevated higher up the Burrow; why couldn't she have just placed his present on the table to avoid conversation with him?
But there was something in her that forced her body to move up towards the attic. She was going to have to speak with him civilly and she couldn't keep a distance from him all the time.
