Opia / D.M 18+

T H A N T O P H O B I A

{The phobia of losing someone you love}

✧✦✧

~Amethyst~

We all sat in the common room, sitting around the blazing fire as the flames danced around in place. I always admired how the flames could stay in one place. Usually—fire represented an uncontrollable rage, something waiting to burst. But I always found it interesting how a fire could tame itself like the one in the common room.

I sat in silence while the others spoke about the night before, the night I never wanted to relive. I wanted more than anything to take everything back, I wanted to leave everything that happened behind.

Blaise and Blaire had apparently become accustomed to the idea that they had been exposed, and it hurt to see them in such close proximity. It hurt to see Blaise holding her so close—as if she were to float away like a feather in the wind. I hurt because my hand was twitching and my ribcage felt tight. It hurt because I couldn't have him near me.

But it was all for him. For him and for Opal.

Everything I did was always a carefully constructed plan. The subjects I'd take for school, to be able to find a job at the ministry that would allow me to earn a good amount of money as well as letting me have enough time to care for Opal. I didn't expect my parents to suddenly succumb to their bad behaviours and raise Opal as they should. That was why I had prepared myself, every step of the way—I had carefully constructed every stepping stone it took. I carved them out of stone to be the perfect and precise measurements that would allow me to succeed in taking care of her.

When Draco manoeuvred his way back into my life, I carved and sculptured more stepping stones. A path that would lead far away from my father, that would lead him away from getting hurt. Everything had been carefully thought through. I spent countless nights thinking of my plan, carving and chipping away at the stones that would lead to a positive future.

Not just for me.

For Opal.

For Draco.

I spent most nights thinking of the worst, of the things my father would do. He had never been a violent person, though he showed no remorse when it came to anyone who took a slight interest in me. I was brought back to the memory in Diagon Ally—how he punched a boy in the coffee shop, all because he smiled at me. My father was always the kind of person who could hold his façade in front of anyone. He was a strong believer in the fact that weakness meant you wouldn't get anywhere in the world we lived in. I could always tell he was bitter about having two daughters, and not a single heir. He raised me to be the 'strong son' he never had.

"Ames?" A voice was speaking, though I couldn't concentrate, "Ames?" It urged again.

I blinked a few times in order to recenter myself. And there it was, the flicker of the contained fire, rageless and calm. I looked up to Luis who was leaning his elbows on his knees, looking deeply into my eyes with a slightly worried expression, "Ames?" He asked calmer.

"What's up, Luis?" I forced a smile, placing those thoughts about my father behind my walls.

He leaned forward with a small box in hand, "This came for you this morning, but you weren't there." He passed the box to me carefully.

My brows furrowed as I analysed the box wrapped in brown paper. I unwrapped it carefully and opened the box to reveal a short silver candle holder. My breath hitched as I realised it was the Greenwood family portkey. I looked up to Luis who was holding a letter in his hands. I snatched the letter from him instantly and ripped open the green seal.