━━ 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬;
The wizarding world is facing their darkest period of the war, led by the formidable Lord Voldemort. Despite his efforts to plunge the Order of the Phoenix into eternal night, Octavia Cunning's prophecy offers stars...
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❛ you cling to your papers and pens ❜
· ━━━━ · ✣ · ━━━━ ·
December 31st, 1996
The thunder shakes the walls of the room, awakening Octavia on her seventeenth birthday. She rubs at her temples aggressively to cure the headache from the blindness of the light in their room. She pulls her comforter over her chin to chase away the chilliness that gnaws at her skin.
It's half past five, meaning Hermione is bound to wake up soon. Her other roommates were gone from Hogwarts. It's lonely without Parvati and Lavender's bubbly personalities counteracting Octavia and Hermione's rational ones.
She sighs softly. The past several weeks were draining as Hogwarts continues to implement new changes in correspondence to Professor Dumbledore's death. The magical castle that used to burst with laughter and delight is now an urgent haven for combat. Classes were cancelled and replaced solely with healing and combat lessons instead. The sixth and seventh year students spend their time amongst the Order of the Phoenix, shedding any trace of childhood to make room for their intruding maturity.
"Octavia." Hermione's whisper arises.
"Yeah?"
"Happy birthday."
"Thanks." Octavia sits up, hugging her knees to her chest.
She faces a bushy-haired Hermione, who manages a bright smile in the darkest of times. Of everyone she knew, Hermione became the most optimistic one in the new chapter of the war, which is unexpected. She remembers holidays, special occasions, and even reminded people to eat. Her positivity is very much needed.
"Harry's called a meeting for late this morning." Hermione says.
Oh, Harry. The mention of his name sends shivers through her body.
"You two should really talk..." Hermione continues reproachfully, "I know if it weren't for the circumstances, you'd-."
"I don't want to think of what we could've become."
After Dumbledore died, their relationship never went further. Between his determination to lead the war and her grit to stay formidable, there simply wasn't the right time to continue.
Their budding relations didn't exactly come to an abrupt halt. Fizzled out almost. Over the past weeks, burdened with their responsibilities, they grew distant from each other. They acknowledged each other less while locking away the fond memories together in the past.
Christmas Day, however, forced them both to face what they were avoiding. Vivid memories of boiling tempers and regretted exchanged words flash in her mind; she tries not to think about it. After that night, their distances continued to grow, but at an even faster rate.
