Heliophilia; d.m

IV

"Okay... well, there's a package for you." He handed it to her slowly, pursing his lips slightly — he was probably upset because of her bad mood.

Violet jerked her head up, looking at the package in his hand, and got up from the couch.

For the first time that day I saw her face not in profile and noticed dark circles under her drooping, exhausted eyes.

It was all very strange, but not surprising — when it came to Violet, there was always something strange.

"You're sitting here, relaxing, and we have to carry your packages, right? Look at his sweater and his hands. Everything is spoiled by stupid glitter." I wanted to get a word out of her, some emotion, but all I got was a look filled with some kind of sadness and anguish when she looked from her bundle to me. And no emotion, and no words.

"Thank you," She smiled at Crabbe, taking the shiny thing from his hand as she headed for the stairs but before she stepped on the first step, she turned to face me, "Stay away from me today, Malfoy." She spoke almost threateningly, and turning away, she walked quickly up the stairs, leaving us in a silence that was soon broken by the slam of her door.

VIOLET

I sat down on the bed, my heart pounding, and placed the package in front of me, untied the ribbon, letting spangles fell on the bed cover.

As I unfolded the paper I saw something that looked like a dress. And there was a letter on it, that took all my attention. I put the dress aside and picked up a piece of paper, recognizing my father's handwriting.

Normally, I would have been happy that he wrote me something, but that day it was difficult for me. That day, as I sat with the letter in my hand, I looked at it with a slight anxiety, as if my breath would stop as soon as I started to read. And It took me a few seconds to collect my thoughts before I finally found the strength to see everything my father had written.

Hello, Violet.
I hope you're doing well. I just wanted to say that I'm glad you have the opportunity to attend the ball and relax a little. I'm sure you'll have a good time.

By the way, I don't know how you're feeling right now, but I can assume it's not very good. I know that today is the...

I folded the letter in half after that line. It was harder than I thought. My nose was beginning to sting with the urge to cry, but I restrained myself, because I wasn't alone in the room and crying in front of someone was not something I needed.

"Come on, it's just a letter, it's okay." I spoke to myself to soothe the stabbing pain in my heart, and with two deep breaths I continued reading.

I know that today is the first anniversary of her death. And believe me, it's just as hard for me as it is for you. But please, don't torture yourself.

I can assume that mom didn't tell you about the ball, and I'm sorry I didn't either.
Your aunt Mariel helped me choose this dress for you.
I hope it fits.
Have a good time.

Dad.

As soon as my eyes fell on the last dot in that letter, I put the letter in the nightstand, between the books, and picked up the dress. I felt I needed to distract myself from replaying the lines of the letter in my head. The beginning of that day had already sucked, but I desperately refused to cry.

"A dress? Show me! Show me!" Kristen, who was absolutely silent while I was reading, ran over to me and sat on my bed with excitement in her face.