𝗨𝗡𝗘𝗫𝗣𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗗 ━ Golden Trio Era

━chapter 9

Chapter 9
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warning: use of the word 'terrorist'

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IN VERY OBVIOUS WAYS, HARRY AND ADHARA WERE THE SAME.

Both lived similar childhoods, shaped by women with rough hands and even rougher words. The familiar feeling of being locked up was common to them both. There was a reason Harry and Adhara understood each other so well.

However, in ways even more obvious, Adhara and Harry were the complete opposite of one another.

Adhara hated the Furnace Room as much as Harry did the Cupboard Under the Stairs. But whereas Harry feared the enclosed space and being abandoned, Adhara feared the fire and being remembered.

Aunt Petunia could forget Harry, and he'd be stuck inside for too long.

Matron Hallewell would remember Adhara and lock her up for too long.

Harry and Adhara were the same as much as they were not. They were alike in their childhoods and the problems they faced. But they were different in how they confronted said problems.

Adhara dealt with her problems quite easily. She ignored them, she looked away from them, she pretended as though they didn't exist until they left her alone, bluntly cutting the threads of said problems.

And as much as Harry tried to ignore his problems, he didn't have enough patience for that. In no time, white-hot rage crawled up his throat whenever he faced someone, escaping from his mouth in the form of words until he ran out of them, until the knots in his throat untied.

Though both learned silence more out of necessity than chance, one befriended it and used it as her weapon, while the other saw it as an enemy and fought it until exhaustion overwhelmed him.

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With her thumb, Adhara skimmed over her father's handwriting, his words washing over her without her taking in any of it.

Usually, Adhara stayed engrossed in whatever Regulus ranted about in his diary. Today, however, the stifling atmosphere of the compartment prooved too distracting.

Adhara tried, though. She flicked through the journal, forcing herself to ignore the awkwardness that loomed over Harry and her. But that would be an impossible feat. The energy was too overbearing to take no notice. If they opened the door, Adhara had a feeling that anyone walking past their compartment would sense it as well.

Everyone inside did so anyway. Though Ron was asleep, head pillowed in Harry's lap as usual. But Adhara didn't doubt that Millie and Mione could feel the tension.

It wasn't that Harry was mad at her. Harry's anger took up space, too much space. It wasn't one that could be ignored. Everyone knew when his temper got the best of him.

But he wasn't speaking to her. In fact, over the month Adhara spent at the Grangers, he hadn't sent any letters, which was what surprised Adhara the most.

Harry had sent her letters every single day during the first half of summer, even though Adhara responded to none — the girl hadn't written a single letter since the end of third year. So, it couldn't be her lack of answers that pushed him away.

Adhara wasn't angry, either. There was absolutely no reason to be. They weren't fighting. Yet, there was this sort of discomfort that settled between them one day. Not that night after the World Cup, not when she escaped from Aleyne, and not even when Harry had snuck into the orphanage.