Heliophilia; d.m

XVIII

We were looking for light, but we were plunged into even greater darkness.
We came together only to part again after a short moment.
And when that moment came, I felt the earth split in half, just like our hearts.

—

VIOLET

I'd been at Hogwarts for two years, but I was still considered new. I still didn't know a lot about the secrets of the castle and its inhabitants, I still didn't see a lot of things, I still haven't been to a lot of places.

I'd only been at Hogwarts for two years, but I've grown to love this place and its surroundings.

My favorite place was a small clearing under a wide and tall— majestic tree, which, like a canopy, separated me from the sky with its lush crown.

When the cold weather came, I was drawn like magnets to the ceiling in the great hall. Although I did not like winter, the sight of snow, falling snowflakes, caused me delight.

That day, at the end of the school year, the sun shone brighter than ever before, or so it seemed to me.
My head was resting on Draco's shoulder, who had barely left me alone since the day we'd made up.

I could clearly hear the rustling of leaves in the light summer breeze, the chirping of birds, the distant voices of other students who, like us, decided to spend time outside.
And everything at that moment was wonderful.

But then it stopped.

Tinnitus instead of birds chirping. Black shroud before the eyes instead of the view of the lake. A heavy head and a sense of anxiety instead of calm and enjoyment.

I lost consciousness, I was disconnected from the beautiful world, before I could tell Draco that something was wrong. I lost consciousness and blacked out from the beautiful world at the same moment that Voldemort and his entourage of death eaters attacked Harry Potter and his friends at the Ministry of Magic.

The Dark Lord, who has gained great strength, has returned to finish the job he started a few years ago.

And that was the day Hogwarts was over for me.

—

"Please, what can happen to me?" I asked, not daring to raise my voice to my father, who was sitting in the chair across from me, his head in his hands, his heavy gaze fixed on the floor.

There was a tension in the room, and it seemed to me that the air was nothing but a viscous and dense consistency, like honey.
It made my chest heaving, and I had to swallow hard every five seconds, waiting for my father to say something.

I didn't know how, but he found out everything.
He found out that I was periodically plagued by terrible nightmares, headaches, and strange feelings of anxiety and fear. He found out that Voldemort was alive, that he could attack anyone at any time, including me— he found out everything. Even that I had a relationship with Draco. And this was unacceptable, because his family was connected to Voldemort better than anyone else.

"He can do a lot of things," Father spoke in a low but firm voice, "You don't understand what he can do, Violet." He rubbed his hands over his face and stood up, walking to the window.

He was angry, absolutely furious, but he hid it behind a pretended calmness, speaking in such a flat voice, as if he was on the verge of breaking down and destroying everything.