Restoration

43

"We can be our worst enemy if we let ourselves wander too far."

Soft and shy sun rays glazed Elara's cheek as she tossed in turned in her bed, slowly waking her up. The window was cracked open, just a bit, as the fresh breeze glided past her bare legs. She didn't expect it to be this warm, still thinking about how cold these fast few months have gotten and how many new jumpers she had to buy.

She blinked a few times, her eyes adjusting to the brightness around her. She turned to her side, facing a wall, which had the oddest structure she'd ever seen. After staring at its patterns, she looked up, at the window which had definitely seen better days. And only once she moved the blinds aside, she realized the sky was not the same sky she woke up to every morning.

Elara jumped up, now sitting in her bed. This is not my bed. Her heartbeat paced up as she firmly grabbed her bedsheets, trying to ground herself. Looking around, she did not recognize a single object, nor the room itself. She wasn't at Hogwarts anymore, which she assumed as soon as she started to wake up.

The room was significantly smaller than her dorm, and the simple furniture reminded her of the holiday apartments her family rented in Spain. She peeked through the window once more, only to be met by meadows on the far right and a sea line nearby.

She kept pinching herself, trying to figure out if she was still asleep, or if she had somehow shifted realities. Her first thought had ironically been far darker - she feared someone had kidnapped her. Bellatrix, to be exact. But judging by the choice of location and the peaceful state she woke up in, she concluded that she wasn't brought here by force.

Elara studied the glass of water on the windowsill, staring at her reflection. She immediately reached for her hair, which had been cut short, now barely reaching her shoulders. For a moment, she thought they could've had one too many butter beers last night, and this was a result of a spontaneous after-party. Daphne must've cut my hair. She was the only one who still possessed some grace and stability when drunk.

Wait. Where is everyone?

It was too quiet. No sounds, aside from the sea crashing against the shore, and the wind dancing in the trees. As she stood up, nearing a tiny mirror on the wall, she noticed how her hand veins protruded out more. Her face was slightly different, too, her cheekbones sharper and her eye bags darker than ever before. It was as if...she had aged. Not by many years, but just enough to notice.

Exploring the rest of the house, she concluded this must've been a vacation cottage of some sort. The kitchen was simple, but clean, with fresh flowers placed in a vase. There was also another bedroom, with a similar layout, only hosting more decorations and a dozen of plants.

Elara poured herself a glass of water, testing it multiple times in case it had been poisoned, before sitting down, trying to remember what had happened and how she ended up here. It felt like banging on her memory's doors, but something wouldn't let her in, perhaps even herself, as she still yawned and struggled to keep her eyes open for a while.

Let's retrace and go back. What's my last memory? Where was I last night? She said to herself loud and clear as if the walls will offer her a reply. She tiptoed around the cottage, trying to gather clues. She thoroughly searched the other bedroom, too, trying to find an element that would help her identify the person who stayed there.