Scars
  • Reads 249
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  • Parts 3
  • Time 1h 1m
  • Reads 249
  • Votes 0
  • Parts 3
  • Time 1h 1m
Ongoing, First published Nov 27, 2020
Mature
"This...this should've been perfect. During that summer I was so happy, everything was right, how did it even..." But as she trailed off the series of events played out in her mind. Every mistake, every mishap, every broken promise, everything that led them here to this moment of exquisite pain.

"Because it was built on lies," He muttered softly next to her, his hands resting limply on his knees as he leaned back into the wall. "Nothing that happened that summer was real." Again, the sequence of bitter memories played out. The one that had been repeating in her mind over and over until it seemed to be marked on her mind - a permanent scar of his love.

"It was real for me."
***
Scarlett Black, daughter of Sirius Black, has been invited along with Harry and Hermione to the Weasley's Bungalow for the summer before their 5th year. Whilst nice in theory, Scarlett would normally be spending her summer in her father's empty, old flat and finds herself missing the familiarity of that dingy apartment. Fred Weasley is the unlikely friend who she finds distracting her from her unique homesickness, and the two find themselves falling into something a little bit bigger and a little more complicated then they could've ever expected.
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𝖈𝖆𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖈𝖎𝖔𝖚𝖘

17 parts Ongoing Mature

c a p r i c i o u s That was certainly a very good way to describe Elizabeth Black. She was capricious and careless with most things. She didn't care about school, or homework, where she lived, who she spent her time with. Her life was a whirlwind of whimsical decisions and disasters, just the way she liked it. Having never grown up with a structured life, bouncing from foster parents to care homes, it was expected that she would live her life so unbothered, so arbitrarily. She didn't care about many things, aside from her friends. But one thing she did care about, so passionately and endlessly, perhaps too much, was him. Oh, she cared about him so much that it hurt. As she lay her gaze upon his form, the streaks of bright colour glittering in the firelight as his back was turned to her, she was sure she cared. Far more than cared, but she would never admit that. She was certain, Fred Weasley would be the death of her, and she was certain she wouldn't mind it either.