Bound By Blood.

ch.91~ I chose.

"I'm not going to say I don't want you, if thats what you're thinking. 

Because it would be a lie.

I'm saying I want a chance to live, beyond this. 

We both know we don't have a shot at that, if there is an us."

Recovered translated correspondents between Order Member Alexandra Brooks, to Death Eater Mattheo Riddle, 2004.

The Order Safe house, 2004.

Alexandra.

Sleep never found me, not after that argument with Harry. So, I found dreamless sleep instead. 

The light filtering through the curtains felt harsh against my skin, as if it were mocking the turmoil in my mind. 

My chest ached with the weight of my confession, that staggering admission that had slipped from my lips like a treacherous serpent.  

The words replayed in my head, over and over, a relentless echo that deepened my despair. 

I had never expected to feel this way, to be so vulnerable. It wasn't like me. 

I lay there, staring up at the ceiling, thoughts spiraling into chaos. 

How had things come to this? 

As I swung my legs over the side of the bed, a creeping sense of dread followed me. 

The house was eerily quiet, and I felt the silence hang in the air, thick and heavy. 

Where was he? 

Would he be pacing the living room, replaying our argument in his mind? 

Or would he be out, clutching the weight of my betrayal and hiding it from the others?

Or in the meeting room, telling the others exactly what I had done. 

I shook my head, willing those fears to evaporate. 

I had to face the uncertainty head-on; running wouldn't change what I had done. 

Pulling on the first clothes I could find—an oversized sweater and a pair of old jeans—I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked like a ghost hovering between two worlds.

With a deep inhalation that felt more like a battle cry than a breath, I headed downstairs

The soft creak of the wooden stairs echoed in the stillness, amplifying the anxiety gnawing at my stomach. 

As I reached the bottom step, the faintest sound drifted through the air—the low murmur of voices. 

I held my breath, the knot tightening in my chest. 

This wasn't just Harry's voice I recognized, but others too—members of the Order. 

Had he already told them? Were they planning on how to get rid of me?

Against my better judgment, I pressed forward, inching closer to the living room door. 

There was an urgency in my step now, a desperate need to understand where I stood in the chaos I had created.

"Morning, Brookie." George's voice wafted over from the kitchen, light and teasing, breaking through the tension that had settled over me like a heavy fog.