𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑 || H.P

𝟓𝟓

I absolutely loathed him.

With every waking minute of every day, my hands ached for something to garb onto. A quill, maybe. Oh how would love a quill. A sketchbook too.

No amount of tossing and turning would fix it. No amount of hatred for him could deny the fact that all I wanted to do was be pressed up next to him, under a thin quilt.

So I justified my crude feelings. I told myself that he lied to me—that he should have told me. I deserved to know where he was—

"He'll get me.."

—and I didn't need him to protect me.

Maybe the next time I woke up, there will be no war. Just pure bliss. Just empty reassurances of things that never happened. Maybe it was all a nightmare, and we were all dead.

There would be no nightmares in paradise.

One..two...three weeks. Twenty-one days.

"Alicia..."

"No one's coming to get you."

"Alicia Shallow..."

"Master has given soup!"

The guest wing was freezing, yet I was sweating profusely under the covers. I wiped away the unexplainable crusted tears under my eyes and watched the house elf appear inside.

"Lolly apologizes, miss, for waking you."

"That's okay," I managed, sleepily. "Pucey sent the soup?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Where is he, do you know?"

Adrian came to see me twice in the past couple weeks. Both of those times to remind me what day it was, or to nag at my vulnerable state. At least, I would call it nagging. He would remind me to 'clean myself up' or 'don't go insane.' Very terrible acting, why would he put an effort into checking in? My father could get him arrested just for what it is.

Other than that, the house elves have been my only company.

"I'm afraid that can not be revealed, miss," she explained in her squeaky voice.

"Don't be silly, Lolly." For a moment, I thought the elf had turned into a grown man. "I'm right here."

"Oh! Master!" Lolly squeaked again as I glared at the doorway.

"Good morning to you, as well, sunshine." Pucey examined my drained face. "You've got mail." He clumped a pile of bags and books beside the bed frame.

Lolly scurried away and I looked confusedly at my school bag on the ground. "These were in my bedroom."

"They were."

I looked back to him. "How...?"

He shrugged. "Does it matter? You've survived long enough to go back to Hogwarts."

I shifted to see him more clearly. The past couple weeks I've felt like a sick patient, being nursed as if I had been starved. "What day is it?"

"Twenty-second."

I stared down at my school bag. "Did you break into my home?"

Adrian stood patiently by the doorway. "Didn't have to," he said, but didn't care to elaborate.

I connected the dots myself. "You were invited. There was a meeting?"

"You can call it that."

I bent down to pick up my books, mostly consisting of charms and potions, but also some manuals about prefects. "I made head girl, you know." At this point I was just trying to make pointless conversation with the intention of getting him to stay. As much as I'd hate to admit it, I didn't know how much more silence I could take.

"Well, congratulations." He wanted to leave. Had something more 'important' to do, perhaps. "Snape really had me convinced he despised you."

"Snape? No- Mcgonagall's Headmistress..."

He looked puzzled for a moment and rubbed the back of his neck. "Sure... look, i've got some things to take care of. If you need anything, you can call Lolly. She makes some lovely stew."

I nodded. "So i've heard."

His lips stretched into a thin line and he turned away.

"Wait!" I said, rather loudly, but he was quick to stop himself. "Er... and, Harry?"

He shook his head. "Nothing." But then, he took out a newspaper and placed it next to my bed, now, really leaving me alone.

Strange. And it really was, because it was from almost a month ago and the headlines made no sense at all. And- the pictures... shattered glass, blood, and muggles.

Wanted: Harry Potter, last seen: Luchino Cafe, London, England.
-

I wouldn't assume that Harry would murder a bunch of muggles without reason. No, surely there's something more that Wizard media is trying to hide. I'm willing bet there were no casualties at all.

It was raining on September 1st, 1997. Or perhaps it always was. Death eaters tend to have that affect on things. Nonetheless, it was the kind of rain that made me gloomy, not calm. It was the kind of rain that resembled tear drops; the kind that reminded me I had a secret to keep, without even knowing the secret myself. It was the kind of rain that confirmed another entry in my sketchbook.

The clothes in my school bag were left untouched. My robes were old, but they still fit. If anything, I've become thinner.

"Sunshine! Your lease is up!"

I straightend my robes and scrunched my nose at Adrian. "Don't call me that."

"You're right. You're a grumpy. Grumpshine!"

"You seem strangely happy today."

"Well, I'll have less of a bounty on my head."

"Funny." I used my fingers to untangle my hair.

Lolly was here, too, dusting or something. "Oh! Miss you've forgotten something." She handed me a small cloth bag.

I peeked inside and saw the fake locket. What use did it have? None that I knew of. I clutched it tightly, though, wondering of many ways I can make it valuable. "Thank you, Lolly."

The house elf smiled as if just the acknowledgment was enough.

"Got everything?" Adrian asked.

I picked up my luggage and held my wand in the other hand. Maybe if I started talking, I would be able to express my conflicted emotions in a more critical way. I smiled. "Thanks, Pukey."

The nickname brought a lightness to his expression. He hesitantly touched my arm. "Keep yourself in line."

I nodded my head. This conversation was more difficult than it should have been. "I hope I never see you again."

He swallowed and stepped away. "If everything stays the way it is, I do as well." And I knew exactly what he meant. It wasn't hatred, it was fear. At the end of the day, no matter what kind of darkness divides us, we would both have equal wounds. I respected him for it.

Not a goodbye, a longing look. And then my guts were twisting and the apparition process felt worse than ever. I barley noticed how empty the platform was under the cloudy haze.

I made sure the sketchbook was the first to come out of my bag.