a.n: it's probably really easy to guess who these two are here, but anyway :)
Thanks to The_Seeker12 who beta'd this story. Read and review!! Amazing chapter image by Niika at tda! Isn't it amazing?
Her hair fell to the floor in folds; landing in a small heap on the ground. The scissors sliced through her hair easily — as though they were cutting a simple slice of cheese. The girl did not wince when her hair fell, she did not laugh nor smile; her face remained emotionless. When her hair resembled nothing of its former self, she decided to stop. Dropping her shoulders, she stared at herself vainly in the mirror. She could point out every single one of her imperfect flaws, but quickly, she decided against it. Everywhere she went, people would complement on her hair; they would say how lovely and long it was.
she thought, allowing a small smile to prance on her lips. Lifting her hands up to her hair, she ran her fingers through it; allowing a small sense of accomplishment to seep through her clever exterior. ‘What would everyone think?’
Feeling a common wave of nausea fall upon her, she sat down on the bed; nostalgic memories running through her mind. This was a common occurrence. Memories flashed through her mind quicker than she flipped a page in a good book. The contrasted flashes of red and green as the screams of innocent people erupted throughout the Hogwarts courtyard; the innumerable amount of bodies strewn across the battlefield, flung to the side like rag dolls; the hopeless feeling that she — and everyone else who fought in the rebellion — felt when they saw The Boy Who Lived dead in the Giant’s heavy arms.
“You okay?” His voice jolted the maudlin girl out of her reverie. Snapping her eyes open, she saw her savior. The person that had pulled her through every hardship. “It’ll go away eventually,” he said, leaning against the doorframe.
“When?” She sighed, letting out a long aspirated sigh, “Why can’t we go back to the way things were before?”
Taking a step forward, he sat down on the bed next to her, then, clasping his hands in hers, he looked at her. “The world we knew won’t come back.” He was never one for giving advice, but this was the best advice that he had ever given her. Nodding, she batted away her tears. He was right. They had their fairytale when they were younger, but their happy ending has been wrenched from their young, sweaty palms. Now, they all sat in their Kingdom of ash and dust — not knowing where there future was going to take them.
“We have to build our own happy ending don’t we?” She asked, staring into his blue eyes. He nodded. “I thought life was going to be easy; being a witch and all, but it really isn’t. It’s as hard as anyone else’s life, if not harder,” said she, irony filled her voice.
“I don’t know much, but what I do know is that it’s never too late to start again.” He nudged her gently in the ribs in a forlorn attempt to cheer her up.
The short-haired girl sighed and looked out the window; her eyes surveying the picturesque scene. “But people have died. People we care about! I can’t stop thinking about them — what where there last words? Their final thought? Did they die in vain? Why did we live when others died? It’s not fair.”
He muttered something under his breath before turning to the evocative girl, “I know exactly how you feel. Everyone lost someone in that war; there is not a person who came out of that war unscratched. But do you know why I still smile? I still smile because I have you and because they would want me to. I love you just as much as I love the Chudley Cannons, if not more. So smile woman, because the best is yet to come.” After his small speech, he gave her a fleeting kiss before standing up and leaving the room.
Closing her eyes, she allowed his words to soak in. He was right, the best was yet to come, she just needed to keep her head up and think like the optimistic and smart girl she was. Giving herself a small smirk, she stood to her slender feet and, opening the closed window, she allowed the wind to surround her body.
Turning around, she opened her eyes and saw a red-haired boy poke his head up from the stairs. She opened her mouth, ready to tell him off for spying, but he beat her to the chase. “By the way, your hair looks bloody amazing.” Smiling, she thanked him and closed the door.
‘He was right,’ she mused as she locked the door to her makeshift room, ‘the best is yet to come, and I get to spend it with you.’