hiraeth - d.m

one

      Gwen stared at herself in the wooden stand mirror that followed them through each year. The one they had carved their names in first year. She stared at how her robe barely reached the floor from how tall she had grown, and how the soles of her loafers were fresh and crisp. She had bought new ones, the ones from last year and holes ripped in them from the battle.
Her knees seemed to be permanently bruised from falling on the flagstone, and her skin maintained a sickly fair color. As if she was just imminently on the brink of death. Her bones were plagued with exhaustion, and her body ached with each day she woke.

    It was a mere few months since the battle. She didn't even know why she came back. She could've sworn the events from her sixth year would've been enough to permanently scar the spot Hogwarts held in her soul. To burn it entirely from her being would be impossible, but to return is another thing. It still felt like a fresh wound, and standing in her old room was like rubbing salt directly into it.

    "Gwen, you coming?" Faith asked from the doorway. First feast of the year. She felt like a statue standing in that spot, her legs molded into stone and the weight of her marble feet made it near impossible to walk. Her foot skidded across the stone slightly as she tried to move, but the idea of standing still soothed her mind

    "Yea, go ahead without me." She replied. Faith slowly shut the door, and once more Gwen was left in her own hurricane of silence. Eyes felt like whips on her skin. She could only ever feel salvation in the expanse of her lonesome, and even being around Donnie and Faith felt like damnation. She knew it was irrational, and yet she couldn't convince herself the pain was her own doing. They wouldn't understand it, not in the way she wanted them to, at least.

      Gwen choked down her self pity and turned to the door. Her mind caught onto her trunk. The little bag that sat at the bottom. The bag that brought color to her grey skies and made water warm again. The temptation to turn towards the trunk was enough to make her knees buckle, enough to force her to crawl in desperation. She shook her head, and filed out of the room.

       The smell of pine and charred oak from the fireplace filled the common room as she passed through. She ran her hand across the leather couches, and smelled the wax that resided on her fingers afterwards. Reminded her of previous years, a memory that seemed so far out of reach that she couldn't even remember. The door creaked incessantly when she left, and the portraits lining the halls whispered silly rumors at the sight of her.

        After the Malfoy boy had saved her they were both in the infirmary for ages. Nearly all her ribs had broken, one pierced through her skin. Took more than one healer to fix. The boy on the other hand, he was fine. The only thing that kept him there was Gwen, and he refused to leave until she woke up. He stayed and waited for three weeks. When she awoke, he left. She never found out why. Some sort of savior complex, she bet.

        She didn't know what had become of him. What the ministry chose to do. Part of her hoped they'd give him a pardon for protecting Hogwarts and turning on his own family, but to be fair she didn't know best. She barely knew him. For all she knew he could've been just as cruel and vindictive as rumored. It didn't make sense though. Not for the boy she imagined him to be, at least.

       Gwen entered the great hall, houses still rambunctious with conversation waiting for the final students to fall in with them. There was a distinct energy in the room, a familiar sense of anticipation and relief. Like coming home after a long vacation. The teachers were all sat at their table, and McGonagall took her rightful place at the head. Gwen rounded the room and sat down with Donnie and Faith at the Ravenclaw table. Her eyes caught a head full of white hair at the end, and her face contorted once she recognized the elfish features of Luna Lovegood. A recognized war hero. Donnie pulled Gwen down by her hand to the table. She plopped down onto the bench and looked between him and Faith, wordlessly questioning if they knew what was going on.