The Crown of Thorns was a notoriously painful way to die. The wizarding way, that is. When placed atop a witch or wizard's head, it would dig in its poisonous spines and constrict its red vines slowly, always slowly. It hadn't been used for executio...
When Kingsley deemed it safe enough to leave, Eloise's eyes snapped open, and she allowed Susan to help her to her feet, ignoring the witch's knowing look. Their group convened at the counter and followed George into the back room and around stacks and stacks of boxes. There was a back door that led to an alleyway that he ushered people into. Eloise was the last to follow, and she caught him giving the back room a longing look before he left and locked the door behind him.
They split into two groups. Hestia, Kingsley, Percy, and George snapped out of the alleyway without much preamble. Susan said they had some important meeting to attend. Seamus, Ginney, Susan, and her awkwardly stood there for a moment as Ginny checked her pockets for something. Then, Seamus broke the silence, "So, how was Azkaban."
Eloise swivelled her head to stare at him in shock. Susan went rigid. She opened and closed her mouth for a moment before settling on, "cold? Awful? I don't know."
Seamus nodded, his face bright red. He'd clearly not thought before he opened his big mouth. Susan took ahold of her arm to side-along Apparate, and she caught sight of Susan whacking Seamus upside the head.
"Where are we going?"
"Somewhere safe," Susan squeezed her good arm, "Somewhere you can heal."
Eloise's stomach lurched, and they whizzed through the air.
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She was unsteady on her feet when they hit solid ground, and she had to lean heavily on Susan as she got her bearings. There was a thick layer of snow everywhere; that was the first thing she noticed. Then, she saw the sea, and her heart dropped. Freedom. So close, yet so far.
"This is Shell Cottage," Ginny murmured, "Fleur and Bill live here with Mum. They'll patch you up."
Eloise shivered as the cold began to seep into her thin clothing. She glanced down at her feet, where she wore an old pair of George's shoes that had been shrunk to fit her feet. There was snow up past her ankles, and the snow began to melt against her skin, pooling inside unpleasantly.
"Let's get you inside," Susan said, taking off her jacket and throwing it around Eloise's shoulders.
The four of them trudged through the snow towards a whitewashed cottage with little shells embedded within the walls. It looked inviting in a way Eloise was hesitant of after so much time on the run.
But then the door was slammed open, and Molly Weasley was yelling about the cold and something about proper clothing. She felt her insides thaw from the permafrost that had enveloped them since the day she'd fled Hogwarts. Time moved jerkily from then on. It was as if Eloise blinked, and she'd been moved to a different room, then she was holding a bundle of clothing, then she'd moved again to a room filling with steam.
Molly Weasley took such care that Eloise didn't remember when she started crying, but it just poured out in a steady stream of grief and horror. It was never-ending. Even when Molly gently undressed her and helped her into the clawfoot tub, and washed her grimy skin, the tears kept flowing. As Molly dunked a bowl under the grey-tinged water and poured it over her hair, she wondered if there would come a point where the tub was half-filled with her tears, her grief.
