Ft. Amelia Davis
Lily's POV
Everywhere I went people cast me long, pitiful looks and I was glad Emmaline had stayed with the Weasley's for the last couple of days of school, so she wouldn't have to endure it. To Hermione's discontent, neither Harry nor I had made any attempt to talk about everything that had happened, in fact, we'd taken it to the level of ignoring one another. I had used deserted corridors as my escape, revelling in the solitude and silence.
I was on the fourth floor, sitting on a window that looked out of the shimmering Black Lake, though it had sort of lost its beauty, when something drifted through the air towards me. It was a pink piece of paper, folded into the shape of a lily and when it landed in my outstretched hand, it unfolded to reveal cursive handwriting. My heart rate started to rise, as I followed the directions into the same side room Blaise and the others had used at the start of term. Blaise and Amelia sat back on desks waiting patiently for my arrival, but Draco was pacing anxiously and all three heads looked up as I entered.
Stormy grey eyes I could get lost in for decades locked with mine and I felt my heart shatter at the thought they weren't mine to stare at anymore. And that's when I knew that I still loved him and I always would because no matter how hard you try, a small piece of you will always belong to someone you've truly loved. I felt tears caress my cheeks and I realised I needed this, as my emotions finally caught up with me due to the events of my diabolical life.
His strong, comforting arms doubled around me, they're what I needed not to collapse to the ground. He held me up and stroked my hair. "Shhh, my flower." He whispered. "Shhhhhh."
Time stopped as the sobs racked my body and I cried out for Sirius to come back and Draco stood there through it all, even when my anger turned to him and I smacked at his chest but he wouldn't let go, stroking my hair and telling me everything would be alright. Well, it's not alright.
"Did they have a reason for breaking up?" Amelia tried to whisper into Blaise's ear behind us. "Because I'm not seeing it."
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Dean wrapped his arm around my waist from the side and lifted me down off the carriage, Harry passing me Thani's cage, no eye-contact needed of course, and Marie flew into my shirt pocket. I had released Jimmy back into the forest to rejoin his friends and I promised him I'd come to see him next year. I slung my bag over my shoulder and fell in line with Harry and Dean was on my other side. The others gathered round us as we headed for the station.
"I've been thinking about something that Dumbledore told us." Harry said.
"What's that?" Hermione asked.
"That even though we've got a fight ahead of us, we've got one thing that Voldemort doesn't have." Harry answered.
"Yeah?" Ron asked.
"Something worth fighting for." I responded and Harry and I finally looked each other in eyes, and he gave me a nod.
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We stepped off the train and were greeted by a large number of the Order, Lupin, Mad-Eye, Tonks, Charlie and Antonia, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Bill, Fred and standing at the front of the group was Emmaline, with George's arm comfortably wrapped around her shoulders. Her eyes were puffy, dark rings laced her eyes, but she greeted me with half a smile, before I dropped my bags and we ran towards each other. We collided in a heartfelt hug, Harry coming up beside us with my bags and I wrapped my arms around him too.
"We're really sorry, Emmaline." I offered my condolences and tried to smile as my eyes prickled.
She wiped her eyes and looked at us with a sad smile. "You don't have to, twins, you knew him longer than I did."
"But he was your dad." Harry replied softly.
The look she gave us broke me. "He was yours, too."
It's like there's a magnetic pull between us as I felt the Slytherin's pass by behind me and I gazed after them. They were careful not to look at me as they made their way to their mothers, as their fathers had been sent to Azkaban, but now I know I truely care for them like I would Emmaline and Ginny. That's, when I began to feel torn.