Promises Kept, Hearts Full of Trust

17

The instant my senses returned to me, the homely scent of the House of Tonks, which had the power to make one feel safe and loved, entered my nose.

I lay on a plush surface, eyes still closed, as I allowed myself to bask in that comforting sensation for a little longer.

And then, cutting through the silence, I heard Draco talking, in a way that told me, he was experiencing the same soothing feeling that came with being with the Tonks'.

When I opened my eyes, a warm feeling spread throughout my chest.

Draco was seated in a snug armchair that was upholstered in a sumptuous dark orange velvet, with a blanket casually draped over one arm of the chair.

His otherwise perfect features were marred by what seemed to be the faintest hint of a black eye and a small gash on his cheekbone.

Yet, he appeared to be in good hands, under the care of his aunt, Andromeda.

She was perched delicately on the right arm of the chair, leaning in towards Draco as she tended to his injuries, applying a balm.

On the other side of the armchair stood Nymphadora, her stance one of quiet attentiveness. Her eyes were focused on Draco was telling her about the state of the situation between him and Voldemort.

"There you are," Ted's voice came softly, pulling the attention of everyone in the room towards me for a moment, Andromeda casting me a kind smile.

I stirred from my resting position, sitting up slowly. A dull ache spread across my back, a painful reminder of the weeks I had spent sleeping on a cold, unforgiving stone floor.

My shoes had been removed, the familiar silhouette of my black Mary Janes catching my eye.

Ted approached, carrying a small tray. On it was a steaming pot of tea and two cups waiting to be filled.

"It's good to have you back," Ted said as he poured me a cup and handed it over.

"Thank you," I said, wrapping my hands around the cup, the warmth seeping into my palms and radiating throughout my body, "It feels good to be back, too."

"I can imagine." He smiled.

"... I forgot the biscuits," Ted murmured, turning his head slightly to look over his shoulder. "Lyra, could you please bring them?"

At the sound of her name, I turned around, finding her standing there with her arms crossed.

Our eyes met, and a pang of guilt washed over me.

I saw the anger simmering in her eyes, the hurt apparent in her tightened features.

I had hoped that she might not be angry with me, that she would understand why I had disappeared without a word. But the cold look she gave me crushed that faint hope.

"Why can't she grab the biscuits?" Lyra scoffed, gesturing towards me, her tone filled with thinly veiled resentment.

Her father was quick to react, his voice stern. "Not now, Lyra."

But Lyra was not to be silenced. She continued, her voice rising slightly, the frustration evident. "I mean, Amelia can do everything better on her own anyway, right?"

Her sarcastic tone hung in the air, the accusation clear. I could only lower my eyes, the guilt intensifying.

An apology was ready to leave my mouth, but she was already storming out of the room.

"She's been worried sick," Ted explained, sighing and running a hand through his hair.

"I understand," I said with a weak smile, getting up. I knew I had a lot of making up to do with a couple of people. Starting with Lyra.