𝐎, 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃 ⎥ "He wants a fight with
a God? I'll give him one."
﹙ from stardust we came, to stardust we return ﹚
Prisoner of Azkaban - Deathly Hollows
...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
* * *
ELARA HADN'T SLEPT MORE THAN HALF AN HOUR. her dreams consisted of dragons and flashes of red and green light. thankfully, her dreams weren't as terrifying as they had been when she dreamed of the dark mark snaking through a sky lit by fire just last week. she hadn't found a need to record this particular dream as she came to the conclusion she was just reminiscing the time she casted a corporeal patronus.
in chipper spirits, elara snuck downstairs to brew coffee.
she was already dressed and ready for the exciting day ahead. uncle ted's old dark grey jacket was snug around her shoulders. of course, elara had to hike up the sleeves or else they'd flop over her hands, but she didn't mind. she liked the feeling of oversized jackets and jumpers; safe and warm.
sat at the worn table with her hands placed on the warm mug, elara watched as the moon and stars slowly began to sink towards the horizon line, waiting for everybody else to wake. sometimes being an early bird and a night owl had its perks.
mrs. weasley came bustling down, looking as stressed as ever. she jumped slightly when she spotted elara sitting at the table. she certainly had not expected the young girl to be up and at it this early. mrs. weasley had also noticed a cup of coffee exactly how she liked it -- two sugars, one cream -- sat across from elara. steam was still rising from the liquid.
"oh, elara dear, thank you so much," said mrs. weasley after taking a sip.
elara smiled at her and turned her attention back to the night sky. she finished the last of her coffee and placed in the sink before briefly washing it out.
mr. weasley came down the stairs and spread his arms out. he was wearing what appeared to be a golfing sweater and a very old pair of jeans, slightly too big for him and held up with a thick leather belt. he looked very much like the muggle man that worked at the coffee shop near elara's house.
"what d'you think?" he asked anxiously. "we're supposed to go incognito — do i look like a muggle, elara?"
she nodded, and mr. weasley took a spot at the table and began rifling through the quidditch cup tickets.
mrs. weasley was busy stirring the contents in a large pot on the stove. deciding to make herself useful, elara began brewing coffee for the people that drank it. it was a long and frankly boring process, but the quiet stillness of the house paired with the rising sun and smell of coffee had elara feeling a sense of serenity.
