❝Good people are like candles. They burn themselves up to give others light.❞
order of the phoenix » deathly hallows
plot credit: vioietends
amandla fitzgerald stand alone
cover by lokidyinginside
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CHAPTER FOURTEEN. RECOVERY
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It felt weird. Everything felt weird. She imagined that she would feel the cold of a floor, or have any discomfort, but instead she was met with warmth of a blanket, and hand in her own, and another life caring about hers. There was only comfort, and Amandla knew that she was safe.
Maybe it was the blanket draped over her. It didn't reach her shoulders, leaving them quite cold, but the thought of it. Someone else was caring about her. The air was a bit warm, enough for her bare shoulders not to cause her to shiver. Amandla slept with every part of her body covered except her face, and this was different.
Someone had reached under her blanket as well to place their hand in hers. It was soft, not calloused or rough, dainty enough, barely touching her like she was made of porcelain. Cevira, she decided. It had to be. The hand didn't move, and she could hear faint snores. Definitely Cevira, she always snored. Not loudly, but loud enough to be heard from the next bed over.
There wasn't any other noise, though. It was probably late, Cevira was sleeping and she just awoke. There was no pain, no ache, nothing. Perfectly content, but it felt too weird.
Was she dead?
Probably. She was probably dead and on the other side and her mind created the image of Cevira and comfort and she was dead. Her heart raced at the thought and her throat ran dry. It was a possibility, she had been hit by a spell from Bellatrix Lestrange earlier that day...or was it? Truthfully, Amandla didn't really know of what happened or how long she was out.
Her eyes fluttered open then. There was barely any light, only the stars dimly illuminating her surroundings. Her doe brown eyes shuffled over to a curtain before seeing Cevira. She was asleep, curled up in an uncomfortable chair with a blanket over herself as her hand poked out to hold Amandla's.
Amandla felt bad that she stayed, sleeping in that chair when her back and neck would be killing her tomorrow. But that she true friendship. She looked around again and found no one else. They were probably told to leave for the night and Cevira just so happened to sneak back in after curfew to stay with her. Pomphrey would be made when she found the Stature girl, but wouldn't give her detention. Probably.
Overall, Amandla realized, she felt tired. Even after she had just woken up and probably could've stayed up until the sun rose and people began to wake, she didn't. She yawned, knowing that a little bit more sleep wouldn't hurt her, and then she closed her eyes again, swiftly falling back into the paradise.
And then she felt light on her eyes. Amandla wanted to groan, like she usually did in the mornings when she woke up, but she didn't. There was probably a grimace on her face, though. The Fitzgerald found no warmth from another hand in her own, a feeling of disappointment following it.
