Book one of two.
Post war.
Odette Elara Viotto can't help but feel foreign in the place she grew up in, and seems to believably lie that she is coping like others around her.
After one dark wizard perishes, another forges- reeking havoc within the...
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Odette Viotto-
Then again, maybe we don't have years; everything good could end tomorrow.
-Courtney Peppernell, pillow thoughts II
Fire engulfed everything around the pair as they whispered prayers to themselves— one held the other in their arms, whispering words of comfort as the building around them crumbled and burned.
It felt as though time had rewinded as they stood there, the air thick with smoke as embers blew in the wind.
It felt as though the pair were back in Hogwarts, watching as buildings burned and crumbled around them.
They prayed it were enough, they prayed it was over.
All they hoped was that it was over.
༺⚘༻
24 hours earlier
A lonely boy sat himself in a dark, desolated study— a yellow paged book sat open in front of him, a glass of firewhiskey held tight in his grip.
His eyes glanced over the same sentence in the book again, and again, and again— never truly committing all his attention into taking in its information.
In fact, he hadn't even realised he wasn't reading the book he thought was, no— if someone with more alert eyes where to glance at its cover, they would see that he was in fact reading a very good beef stew recipe belonging to Vivienne's mother.
His mind was elsewhere, beyond his current location— it was in the past, thinking of times where he had noticed a girl, always alone in his houses' common room, her face hidden behind long, dark hair.
It was thought that he had never paid her a second glance... except he had.
He was intrigued by her, the mysterious and concealed nature that surrounded her being.
Malfoy had seen her with the Granger girl, and that saint Potter— she seemed different when she was with those pathetic Gryffindor's, as though she were putting up an act... as though she didn't want them knowing who she truly was.
Sometimes, during lessons, he'd catch the only mere second that her bright eyes and infectious smile faltered, when it became too difficult to retain the mask she forced herself to adorn each day.
It must have been exhausting, a laborious effort to constantly adorn a false façade— but why did she hide her true self from her friends?
