'I clung to your hands so that something human might exist in the chaos'

-Hélène Cixous

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It was Christmas day, which meant that, through a joyous feast cooked by Molly Weasley, Addie was able to forget everything for a while, and immerse herself in the warm chatter and laughter across the happy dining table. At the teenager-end of the table, once the food was all eaten and the clatter of cutlery against plates died down, Addie was sat between the twins, and could hardly take a sip of her drink without feeling the need to laugh at their undying inputs and commentary in her ear to the rest of the group's—Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny's—conversation. One instance had the seven playing a muggle card game called 'Bullshit' (though, with Mrs Weasley in earshot, called 'Cheat'), and for a reason she forgot, Ron slammed his hand on the table much harder than he'd intended, knocking over his glass; spilling its contents over the tablecloth, leaving Mrs Weasley to scold him and the other six to burst into laughter—even Hermione from behind her hand.

Adeline, Hermione and Ginny, a few hours later, now sat together in the youngest Weasley's room. Surrounded by woollen blankets and pillows, Addie and Hermione, the latter with Crookshanks over her lap, sat upon mattresses on Ginny's floor that would be their beds for the holidays; hands warm as they circled mugs of hot chocolate. Ginny lay over her bed on her stomach, facing the two girls, fiddling with a yellow paper crown from dinner as she talked.

Addie had always admired Ginny's room. Like the rest of the burrow, it was warmly lit, and she had moving photographs stuck to one of her walls. Her carpet was an old design—though clean, thick and soft, and her walls were dark wooden boards; her small, though cosy room complete with warm colours and a hand-made quilt over her bed; a single window on one of the walls, its curtain drawn as the hour hand on her clock struck eleven.

Pulling her new woollen Weasley sweater closer—crimson, with a white 'A' in the centre—, Addie took a sip of her hot chocolate; studying what she could see of the patterned carpet absentmindedly.

"Well, that's enough from me about Dean," Ginny put the paper crown on her head, and, noticing Addie's eyes trained to the floor, tried bringing her into the conversation, her voice serious, though warm. "How are you, Ads?"

"Hm?" Addie looked up to her. "I'm good."

"I don't believe you." Ginny spoke, and her gaze softened as Addie averted her eyes. "Addie, we're here for you," she motioned to herself and Hermione, who nodded intently. "I know everything you're going through must be really hard. You can talk to us about it."

"And it'll stay between us three." Hermione chimed in, placing her hand over Addie's. "It never has to leave this room."

"I—" Addie spoke, looking up to the two, swallowing, fatigue pulling at her eyes. "I don't really know where to start."

"We've got all night," Ginny smiled, resting her chin on her arms, her orange hair cascading the edge of the bed. Addie finished her drink and put it next to Ginny's empty one on her nightstand, looking down at her hands to be met with those vivid, black lines.

"I hate these," she mumbled, lightly scratching the skin over the veins. She looked back up to the two girls. "They're just reminders of...of everything."

"Wait—I know what to do!" Hermione perked up, placing her now empty mug on the floor before turning around and rummaging through her backpack, Crookshanks, now awake and grumpy, leaving her lap for the end of the mattress. Facing the two girls once more, she showed them the objects in her open palms: compact powder and a brush. Ginny started laughing.

"Ooh, since when did you start wearing make up?"

"Shut up," Hermione rolled her eyes, laughing, scooting closer to Addie, lightly bringing the Riddle girl's arm closer. Opening the compact, Hermione swiped the brush over the powder, and, once there was a good amount of colour on its bristles, she moved Addie's sleeve up to her elbow before meticulously applying it to her skin. The shade was too dark to match her wrist, and, as Addie opened her mouth to say something, she stopped, as the powder had now changed its colour to perfectly match the pale skin tone of her wrist.

"Where'd you get that?" Ginny asked, intently watching as the black veins disappeared beneath the powder.

"Hogsmeade," Hermione spoke, patting the brush on the powder once more, smiling as she caught eye of Addie's look of delight. "It's really good quality, actually—you guys can borrow it when you want. It doesn't rub off on clothes or anything either, Addie, even in water—I'm pretty sure that's just to make you buy their makeup remover, though," Hermione started on Adeline's other arm. "But it's perfect in your case. If you want it off, though, just ask."

Ginny hummed, nodding, and began talking once more as Hermione grew quiet in concentration and Addie stuck to looking over her arm in amazement. "Sooo, Addie, when're you and Harry getting together?"

Hermione let out a laugh at her boldness. Addie looked up at her in confusion.

"What?"

"You should've seen the way he was looking at you earlier at dinner," Ginny giggled, Hermione nodding as she added more powder to the brush. "He's in deep."

"He was looking at me?"

"Yeah. A lot."

"Oh," Addie looked down, watching as Hermione brushed the foundation over her skin. "I'm still mad at him, though. I think."

"That's fair," Ginny nodded. "But if it helps...he's the reason you don't have to be in the hospital wing anymore."

Addie looked up. "That was him?"

"Yeah," she said. "He practically stormed Dumbledore's office the other night and confronted the old bugger. He didn't even get a detention or anything—perks of being the chosen one, I guess."

"Just cutting in—" Hermione interrupted as she finished Adeline's other arm. "Want me to put it on your neck?"

"Really?"

"Yeah," Hermione spoke, and as Adeline grinned and sat up straighter, tilting her head upward, though still looking at Ginny, Hermione leaned closer with her brush to cover the black veins.

"So, I guess none of it was really Harry's fault," Addie spoke, thinking out loud; trying to make sense of where she stood with him with this new information. "It actually was just...Dumbledore, like he said. I don't—I don't know what to do—What do I do?"

"It's up to you, really," Hermione chimed in, brushing the bristles over the powder once more. Addie looked over to her. "He still chose not to tell you that you're...y'know, but then again, Dumbledore is a bit of a control freak—and that's coming from me."

The two started laughing, and Hermione grinned as Ginny wiped her eyes, bringing the brush to Addie's neck once more. After a moment of successful beckoning to Crookshanks, who leaped onto Ginny's bed beside her, she spoke.

"Well, Ads, how much do you miss him?"

Addie scoffed—picking up Ginny's mannerisms. "Like hell."

"Well, there you go!" Ginny brought Crookshanks to her lap. "You'll be under the mistletoe in no time."

"What mistletoe?" Addie asked, to which Ginny laughed in response, shaking her head.

"Done!" Hermione brought the brush away from Addie's neck, smiling as she admired her handiwork. "You wouldn't even know they're there."

Standing up, Addie moved to a mirror hanging on Ginny's wall by the closed door, a grin spreading across her lips as she moved her head and found no trace of the awful, sharp black veins across her neck. She looked like her again.

Looking to Hermione's smiling reflection in the mirror, she beamed; giddy, almost laughing as she mustered a "thank you!", restraining herself from jumping up and down on the spot. Ginny's smile stretched as wide as her own, and for a moment, everything was okay; they could be teenagers, normal teenagers, if only for this night.

The hours ticked by, but it really felt like no time had passed, so Addie was surprised to glance at the clock and see the hour hand at three; only now acknowledging how hard it felt to keep her eyes open. Hermione, the only one out of the three with a healthy sleep routine, had been still beneath her blankets for a while now, her breath steady and bushy hair strewn across her pillow as light snores exposed her slumber. Ginny, on the other hand, was basically wide awake, and, sensing Addie's fatigue, stopped her account of Quidditch techniques she'd been wanting to try, and whispered, "Addie, go get your pyjamas on. You've been wearing those jeans for so long your skin will grow over them," and at Addie's sudden look of horror, she added, "Not actually."

Relieved, Addie sat up, and peered around her mattress for her trunk, though to no avail. "Did you hide my trunk again?" She asked quietly; careful not to stir the sleeping bookworm beside her.

"No," Ginny whispered back, holding back a laugh as she remembered Addie's poor bemused expression those months ago. "Did you bring it up here?"

"No, Ron said he would," Addie's voice trailed off before the rest of her words left her mouth.

Ginny rolled her eyes, muttering "Forgetful bugger," beneath her breath. "Well, it's not downstairs, so it's probably outside his room. Want me to get it for you?" She asked, sitting up and swinging her legs over her bed's edge. "It'll be dark out there."

"It's okay," Addie smiled. "It'll just be upstairs, yeah?"

"Yeah."

Standing, Adeline tip-toed across the thick carpet, being careful to step over the ball of fluff that was Crookshanks, before slowly turning the door's knob and pulling it open just enough to slip out, unheard, into the Burrow's sleepy darkness. The light from Ginny's room, leaking onto the shadowy floorboards, was eclipsed by darkness once more as she slowly closed the door, though faint light remained.

It came from upstairs, and its dull, flickering glow illuminated the staircase as her hand brushed against the rail, her foot hovering over the wooden step for a moment, tentative, unsure, before she finally lowered it and shifted her weight so that her other foot left the ground; face scrunched, dreading the obnoxious creak to resound through the house at any time—though, to her surprise, it was silent, and she let out a breath.

Stairs had been tricky, lately. Her movements had grown sluggish over the past week, and too many times she'd fallen over her own feet on flat ground, almost twisting her ankle that very morning, and other times her toes would just catch on the ledge as she climbed the stairs, or she'd miss a step while trying to keep up with those in front of her. It would not do well to stumble now at three in the morning, and have everyone wake at her commotion. Especially Mrs Weasley, who'd been so worried for Adeline lately, and failed to hide it on her kind, rosy face; eyeing her as though she'd drop dead at any moment; tentative to let her stay at what she thought to be a vulnerable location, even with Dumbledore's (surprising) assurance and several members of The Order staying there for the holidays, too.

Continuing up the stairs, slowly, very slowly, but surely, she narrowly skipped the stair that would always whine like there was no tomorrow, heart dropping to her feet as she swayed backward for a moment before regaining balance. She was nearly at the top, where Ron hopefully left her trunk outside of his room. Just as she had one step to go, and was starting to think about whether she could even carry the trunk down or not, eyeing her feet to maintain this newfound balance, Addie reached the top, and barely took one step before abruptly knocking into something solid, sending her backward.

Her heart lurched just as it did a minute ago, hand too loose over the rail to catch herself in time, and just as she started to brace for thick pain along her back and a fall she couldn't control, a hand met her elbow. Well, two hands met both her elbows, steadying her and pulling her toward them, away from the edge of the staircase.

She blinked; her sleepy mind unsure if this was some weird, 4D hallucination, until she finally comprehended the silhouette before her, with tousled hair and warm hands and the scent of vanilla soap lingering on his skin; figure covering the flickering light of a candle she'd seen from below. As he stepped back, the light met their faces.

"Addie?" Harry whispered. Over his shoulder, she could just see a circular window on the wall adjacent to Ron's closed bedroom door, showing a snippet of the night's infinity of twinkling stars that captured her short attention span. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," She spoke softly, moving her gaze from the window to him. The warm light brushed his face, and, despite the ungodly hour, he too remained in the same clothes from earlier that day; worn Converse and all. "I think Ron brought my trunk up here by accident."

"Oh," He looked behind him, then back at her. "It's probably in his room, I'll get it for you." He made to move away, but stopped as she reached out, and tugged on his shirt's sleeve; fingers brushing against his arm.

As he met her eyes in the low light, her lips parted to say something—though no sound came out, unsure whether she wanted to say something or just have him stay there, in the low light, with her. He waited patiently, and she couldn't tell if it was the way he looked in that lighting or the way they were standing so close that the only thing she could smell was that soft vanilla that rendered her speechless. Maybe it was the fact that he stayed when she found it hard to find any words. He didn't shrug her hand off like someone else might; he didn't huff and roll his eyes in impatience as she fumbled for something to say. He just stayed.

"I—" She was cut off by a sudden eruption of flame through the window behind him, her mouth agape, and, seeing its reflection in her eyes, he spun around. Eyeing the familiar black trails of smoke whirling through the air, he manoeuvred around her, bolting down the staircase.

Death Eaters.

It's weird how fast a moment can change, because now she paid no mind to the creaks and groans of the stairs as she trailed after him; she didn't cringe as her loud voice echoed throughout the many floors of the Burrow, trying to wake the others whilst trying to keep up with the sprinting boy before he did anything stupid. Somehow her feet found the steps without hesitation, and she was down the many staircases and out the door before she could comprehend what the hell was happening.

Hot air immediately stung her face from the ring of fire that circled the Burrow; her blood running cold as Bellatrix Lestrange's cackle rang through the air as she caught eye of the psycho's mangled curls jumping through the flames and out of sight, baiting Harry to chase her, which, of course, he did. Bellatrix yelled tauntingly, egging him on and her words sliced open such a fragile wound of Addie's:

"SHE KILLED SIRIUS BLACK! SHE KILLED SIRIUS BLACK!"

Burying the familiar ache in her chest down, Addie stumbled slightly, though managed to keep her balance and maintain her surprisingly fast pace, boosted from adrenaline. As Harry neared the flames, she knew he wouldn't stop—so neither would she, even as yells rang out from the door of the Burrow as the Weasley's, and guests, emerged. Before she knew it, Harry jumped through, and so did she, to be met with the field of reeds that reached just above her head and surrounded the Burrow for miles. Pushing through them, eyes trained to the back of Harry's head for what felt like forever as her soaked shoes splashed against the ankle-high water, something gave way—and this time, she did fall.

Shaking hands and legs submerged in the murky water, she looked up in front of her where Harry had just been to be met with reeds everywhere, rustling in the cool wind, the dark sky, and the eery quiet; far from the Burrow, and, seemingly, Harry. Struggling to catch her breath, coughs suddenly wracked her body, and she lowered her head to face the water below her, blood as black as tar dripping from her mouth. Watching as it blended with the dark night sky reflected in the water, she spat out the remaining blood and gasped as the coughs finally subsided; breath fast and shallow as her lungs ached for air.

Remaining on the ground, a distant shrill of laughter from Bellatrix made her shudder, and, despite wanting to crawl into a ball right then and there, she jumped to her feet as a growl came from behind her. Turning around, she only needed once glance to recognise Fenrir Greyback and bolt in the opposite direction toward Bellatrix's laugh—the last direction she'd seen Harry go— despite her legs and lungs and whole body begging her to stop as the reeds brushed and flicked against her face and adrenaline pumped her away from the hairy, sharp-toothed maniac pursuing her. She was too weak for this, too weak to use any magic, but she kept going. She had to.

Reaching a clearing in the reeds, with Greyback just behind her, she spied Harry in its middle, holding his wand out, and Bellatrix circling him like a vulture in the surrounding reeds; a smirk reaching her face as he, unsure of the death eaters' whereabouts, unknowingly turned his back to her. She raised her wand, and gleefully recited the Cruciatus Curse, loud enough for Addie to hear as water splashed around her, Greyback hot on her tail as she came hurtling in Harry's direction before throwing herself at him: pushing them both into the water as the curse came barrelling toward them.

For a second, she only knew cold water and adrenaline; a moment of peace in the chaos, before she lifted her head and gasped for air; hair sticking to her face and clothes clinging to her skin, utterly soaked and as drenched as Harry right next to her, who, whilst coughing, pushed his hair out of his eyes that were bare of glasses. She immediately heard screaming, and snapped her head in Harry's direction, worried that her split-second plan had failed—but it wasn't him.

Before them, a horrible mix of screaming and gurgling erupted from Greyback who thrashed around in pain in the water. Addie was relieved; grateful it was him rather than the boy beside her, though she still cringed at the sound. Movement to her right catching her eye, Addie almost forgot about Bellatrix until she raised her wand once more, this time pointed to her. Face screwed in fury, she bellowed "CR—" until she was cut off as Addie stood, took a breath, dripping wet, and clicked her thumb and forefinger; leaving Bellatrix's wand to fling from her grasp just as Remus, Athur Weasley and Tonks showed up; wands ready, though stopping in bewilderment as they watched Adeline catch the wand.

Greyback, arm shaking, managed to bring his own wand out of the water, leaving Addie to do the same click manoeuvre to him, stepping back as he lurched toward her from the ground, catching his wand. Snapping them in half, one after the other as they watched, stunned from being outsmarted by a girl so young and weak, Addie threw their now broken wands away into the abundance of reeds behind them. As Greyback rose to his feet and Bellatrix took a threatening step toward her, Addie sucked in a breath and aimed her open palms at each of them before they were sent flying back in opposite directions; so far away that she lost sight of them in the night and miles of reeds before letting them drop from wherever they were: stranded. It was safe to say they wouldn't be back any time soon.

She sank to her knees in the water beside Harry; exhausted, barely able to move, though, somehow, still awake. Her chest rose and fell quickly as she relived the last few minutes in her head over and over again; gaze trained to the stars that rippled in the water's reflection, numb to the cold gusts of winter's wind as her eyelids grew heavy. Harry stood, clothes dripping relentlessly, legs sloshing through the water as he stepped in front of her and outstretched his hand. As she put her shaking, pale, wet hand in his, he pulled her up and enveloped her in a hug just when she thought her knees would give way.

She couldn't remember the last time he'd hugged her, nor did she realise how much she'd missed him and the safe haven of his arms around her, his head on her shoulder, or how, even when they were completely drenched, standing in the freezing breeze with their shoes submerged in the water and hair stuck to their faces, she felt warmer than she had in a while. Soon, the sound of several pairs of feet splashing toward them reached their ears, and the voices of Ron, Hermione and Ginny comforted the two like never before: Addie cocooned as the three wrapped their arms around herself and Harry.

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She sat on the carpet in front of the fire, her back leaning against the coffee table, despite the many comfy armchairs and couches around the Weasley's living room. Arms circled around her legs tucked into her chest, leaning her chin on her knees, Addie's wet hair descended into small ringlets down her back; drying as she stared into the flames before her and pulled Harry's woollen Quidditch jumper—that was way too big for her—closer; warmed by its faint scent of vanilla.

Like Hermione had said, the foundation hadn't rubbed off in the water, though her eyes felt too droopy and fatigued to really appreciate it as the weight of the night caught up to her—making her feel physically weaker than ever before. It was 4am, maybe, and she'd been awake for so long that falling asleep right here, sitting up, didn't even seem that bad.

The house was quiet once more, although Mrs Weasley had only just gone back to bed as it took some convincing to explain that she really was okay; she was just tired. Really tired. She didn't even think she could use her magic—it sort of just...happened. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or the surge in emotion when trying to protect Harry, who, now in a T-shirt and pyjama pants, fresh out of the shower, sat next to her by the fire, arm-to-arm. That is, until she, almost subconsciously, leaned into him, and rested her head on his warm shoulder, closing her eyes. He didn't think twice about it, though, and wrapped his arm over her back, bringing her closer into his side; content as the scent of her green-apple shampoo filled his senses.

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a/n:

i love this chapter so much so here u go c:

-g