Serendipity:
/serənˈdipədē/
(n) The good fortune of finding something valuable or special by accident.
"You once told me that the line between love and hate was a blurred one. How do we know once we've crossed it?"
In which a prophecy tears apart Q...
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~Sixth Year~
The two weeks that I spent at McGonagall's house passed by in a blur. She was rarely home due to the upcoming school year which I was grateful for. Most days I spent laying in bed and staring at the ceiling, trying to permanently lock up my feelings.
They always resurfaced at the weirdest times. I'd be in the shower then get hit with the pain so hard that all I could do was sob on the ground. It was always gone by the time I stepped out. Always numb again.
I wished they wouldn't come at all.
On my bedside table letters had begun to stack a mile high. All of them from Briar, Apollo, or other students that had heard about what happened and wanted to send their condolences. I hadn't opened any of them.
The only thing that I did bother with looking at on my bedside table, was the coin that I kept in my pocket or in my hand at all times. It didn't comfort me. I wasn't sure that anything could. But it was almost like keeping a real life memory with you.
All I had left of myself now was memories.
There was no tomorrow anymore. No more future. Just surviving and breathing and making it long enough for fate to take me out one day or another. There were no more memories to be made, no more relationships to grow, no more life to truly live.
A shell is what I'd become.
So hollow and empty that my chest often felt like it had a gaping hole right in the middle. My mind was a graveyard of dead hopes and dreams.
"Are you ready to go to King's Cross?" McGonagall asked from the doorway of my room as I closed my trunk
I stood up and nodded before following her out of the door to the living area. I hadn't ever actually sat down in this room, only passed it on the way to the dining room. It wasn't like I ate much anyways.
McGonagall held out her arm for me to which I grabbed onto and closed my eyes against the feeling of apparition. The temporary reprieve from the world's weight came back a moment later and I opened my eyes to the sight of different muggles running to different trains. McGonagall was already gone, most likely to deal with more important things.
In front of me was the entrance to Platform 9 3/4 waiting for me to go through. I took a long breath, letting the numbness spread over my body before running through the wall.
Usually I loved the atmosphere here every time I stepped onto the platform. Usually I smiled at all the bustling students saying goodbye to their loved ones and hurrying to the train. Usually I was one of those students, giving my father a gigantic hug and before running to my friends.
Now, I felt nothing.
My movements were robotic as I walked over to the loading area and set my trunk down before going to the train doors and waiting for them to open. I was hoping I'd get in quick enough to find my own compartment and avoid everyone.
