In which James Potter
is a pyromaniac
and realizes
there is something
more scorching
than Lily's red locks.
because if Lily's bright hair were a burning flame, Ella's blazing blue eyes would be found at its centre, where everything turns to ash...
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𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕟 had started a few hours ago, and most students were hurrying inside the castle, hidden under an umbrella or a copy of the Daily Prophet. But not Ella Summers. The girl stood beside one of the thestrals, those dark, winged horses that only a few people in school could see, and petted the creature absentmindedly, her gaze glued on the high towers of the castle. The eagerness she felt at the thought of the Gryffindor common room was almost enough to make her forget her boyfriend's cruel words.
Stupid. Useless. Squib.
Her brother's voice echoed through the carriage's walls. Ulrich was pleading with his best friend to give Ella another chance, promising him she would behave, that she needed him, had no one else. Ella met the thestral's gaze and wondered if people could see in her eyes what she could read in its cold, white orbs: a longing to be seen, loved, acknowledged.
"My brother's wrong," she whispered, leaning closer to the creature. "I have you, and you have me."
"Could you not do that?" Evan asked, startling Ella. She hadn't noticed the conversation in the carriage had ended. "It's freaking me out."
She glanced past her shoulder to see her boyfriend watching with his arms crossed, forehead wrinkled in annoyance. Beside him, her brother acted like he couldn't see the creature either. With his hands in his pockets, his foot stomped the ground impatiently. His eyes were saying: "you're not helping."
Hypocrite, she wanted to scream. But she didn't. Contrary to Ulrich's belief, Ella understood self-preservation enough to know when to keep quiet. Instead, she dropped the hand petting the thestral and stepped back, unaware of the group of boys passing behind. She bumped into one, and he stopped her with a hand on her hip that sent jolts of electricity through her entire body.
"Careful, Summers," James Potter whispered in her ears, sending shivers down her spine. And then, louder, he added: "You don't want to scare your crybaby of a boyfriend even more."
"Fuck off, Potter," Evan growled, fetching his wand, but Ulrich stopped him.
James winked and hurried after his friends, his wet, curly hair bouncing.
"See you at the feast," Peter shouted then, and when Ella realized he was talking to her, a warmth spread from her heart to the tip of her ears.
"Since when are they talking to you?" Evan asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and knocking her against his chest.
