The House of Hawke has been called the traitorous, filthy and scum house the entire time that name was known to the living.
Past or future, one would accompany it with the adjective "Horrifying".
It was a matter of grief for the youngest daughter...
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It's not a question so I follow blindly, he leads me with his hand in mine outside the portrait hole and down the corridor to the Come and Go room at the very end of the floor.
"Have you," He asks as he paces in front of the wall thrice. "ever slept under the darkest and the brightest sky?"
"I don't understand." I tilt my head as the door appears
Sirius extends his hand towards me again and I gratefully take it. When he opens the door, my mind is buried in snow.
The sky is as dark as the blackest black and there are stars there so dazzling that it doesn't feel real. One corner has the Aurora Borealis and the other has the Orion's belt.
There is a king sized bed in the middle of the room with the endless sky above it and there's a cosy-looking blanket on top of it.
"Well?" He breaks my trance.
"I love —" I look sideways at him with glassy eyes. "it. I love it."
He grins widely and I notice the beautiful smile line.
I smile back and run towards it, falling on top of the squishy mattress with a groan.
"I can't wait to sleep for eternity."
"I'll have my room's ceiling look like this."
"I want my room to look like my old one." I tell him. "I want no memory of my grandfather to be forgotten. I'll also visit him every weekend, perhaps more often."
Sirius smiles softly, "You can visit him everyday, I'll come with sometimes. . .if you don't mind. I like playing riddles with him."
I laugh and rest my head on the pillow. Sirius covers my body with the blanket and then moves my head on his shoulder.
I can't help but lean infinitely in his embrace. I go closer and he pulls me in tighter.
I am still smiling when I think I hear him say something, but my eyes are closing and sleep takes over.
╭ ╮ Sirius ╰ ╯
Elena.
She told me nothing of her heart, nothing but the surface of what is and what could be. But I know she is neither ready to love nor to be loved.
She is laying by my side, the day before our last exam. We've both studied very hard and neither is worried about tomorrow.
A tear rolls down my eye.
I doubt she ever went to sleep thinking about me the way I think about her. I doubt she realises how her beauty could make Shakespeare startle.
I doubt she knows how much she is needed here. I doubt she realises how much I have started to need her. And not for her body. I needed her way before she kissed me.
And the worst part of them all, I want her more than I need her.
I know how she chews, I know her left molar hurts sometimes when she bites hard food. I know that she likes to dance with her hair unbound, I know it gives her an illusion of utter freedom in some vague way. I know she changes perfume twice a day, one of them being the one I scented in Amortentia. I know she doesn't like to eat fruits at night. I know she could get agitated at random moments and I know how to deal with it. I know how she wants to be alone during the evening, how her mind requires more alone time than other people. How she's always wanted to fly. Not on the broom and not with a spell. Fly.
How she wants to be a phoenix if she was an Animagus. I know she gets mad when she's tired and I know she'd love a Hazelnut chocolate at that time. I know her pupils dilute when she sees a niffler, her favourite magical animal. I know her red hair looks like a blood halo in sunlight. Not the afternoon sunlight, which is harsh and warm, but the morning one. The cold rays make them look magnificent. I know she says she's allergic to pumpkins but she's actually not, she just doesn't like them. And nothing about her scares me away, contrary to her beliefs.
I found her the most beautiful when she wasn't prettied up for the sake of others but when she was lying beside me with her hair unruly and her eyes all teared up from laughing so hard about something very unfunny but it was just us both and it didn't matter for laughs came easily with the ones who made you happy.
Sometimes, during my most desperate moments, I'd imagine for the sake of my heart that whenever she'd look at me and then glance away, it was a glimpse of longing. And not of desire. I want her to want me, why of course. But the feeling of longing was something that I was craving. My heart was so full of it that half the time I wouldn't recognise if it were just me or if she was feeling it, too.
Maddening hunger for emotions. Something I have never felt before. Elena doesn't bring out the best in me, she brings out my worst version. And that's not because I feel angry or uncomfortable around her, but because my monsters have found a home in her heart. I have never wanted something more than to have that one person, that one person who was mine. Not in the way of owning, but in the way of connection.
Someone who'd stay no matter how many left. Someone who'd fight to stay when pushed back. Someone, someone, someone.
Elena can and can't be that person.
I want her to be that person but there is something I've known since the day I left Regulas at the door of Grimmauld Place, as he cried and begged me to not leave and as I cried and begged him to come with me. That you can't force someone to stay.
Elena doesn't want to be loved or to love. And no matter what, her priorities are going to stay important to me.
So I watch as she smiles and then it goes faint and her eyes close on my chest, right above my heart.
