"I don't think people would let themselves fall in love if they knew how dangerous it is."
"What if the risk is worth it?"
"It rarely is."
A story of a girl who was always on the run. Never had home - the idea of one was foreign to her. And she w...
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[ It's lonelier in a group than being on your own. ]
. . .
Adara wanted to leave. She'd already started packing her things when Sirius stormed into her room. There was no doubt they were talking about what was published about her in the Daily Profit moments earlier.
It had taken a lot of convincing from Sirius to get her to stay. She cried, he comforted her. She yelled, he yelled - Blacks didn't go down without a fight. Soon, Remus had to stop their bickering. Both adults had convinced her to stay, but not without protest.
To say the next few days were awful was an understatement.
Almost every hour there were dozens of new hatemail being addressed to Adara from random owls, who wouldn't miss the oppurtunity to bite at her fingers if she reached for the packages, drawing blood. Even the owls seemed to have a grudge against her.
Adara hands were sore from the amount of hatemail being sent her way: puss that caused boils and rashes, joke tricks from a shop run by the Weasleys - even envelopes which had somehow been bewitched to cause rashes on the hands of whoever held them. It seemed the ministry hadn't realised the affect leaking her address would have on Adara's day-to-day life.
Her hatred for Dumbledore grew stronger each passing day. He'd come to tell her the details of what would happen next, how she would have to return to Hogwarts for her sixth year; she hardly listened.
Eventually, Adara was forbidden from opening any unknown parcels addressed to her by both Remus and Sirius. They took it themselves using protective gloves and immediately burnt them in the fire place.
Lily had ensured to help as much as she could. She used magic to try and heal the rashes and wounds left on Adara's hands but no luck. If they disappeared, the rashes would soon arrive once again, more vigorous and red than before. They left marks and scars on her hands which looked like the marks made from brutal claws of a canine.
"At least we're kind of matching now, Moony." Adara had commented softly when Remus examined yet another one of her scars that trailed down her left hand. "Now you're not alone." Remus had only smiled lightly.
Adara, Lily and the rest of the Marauders had all decided it would be best to try and use some muggle creams to mend the wounds. But no luck.
Adara could barely do anything with her hands without a sting or accidently opening a wound back up from stretching her hand too much. It was torture. She hated this, but tried not let the marauders see this. They all did. She wasn't that good at hiding it.
