'love opened a mortal wound.
in agony, i worked the blade
to make it deeper.'
[sor juana inés de la cruz]

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Shell cottage held the kind of peace Addie had only felt when in Harry's arms. Breakfast was spent cross-legged by the open window as the fresh ocean breeze caressed her face, ruffling the light blue curtains that framed it. Mesmerised by the waves, she breathed with the sea, letting its white noise lull her mind to a state of solitude, a gentle quietness as she ate her cereal.

Behind her, Harry spoke quietly with Bill. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but their conversation ended with a smile and handshake. Bill patted Harry's arm and stepped out of the room, leaving Harry to step over to Addie and stand behind her chair, hands coming to rest on her shoulders as he pressed a light kiss to her head.

"What was that about?" She asked quietly to match the solemn atmosphere—Hermione and Ron on the plush couches, the former with her nose in a book, and the latter asleep on her shoulder. Luna was outside somewhere with Fleur, and Dobby was busy knitting himself another little jumper on the kitchen table, lying on his stomach and absently kicking his feet like a little kid.

"Hm? Oh," he said, busying himself with pulling her hair out from where it was tucked in her sweater and running his fingers through it. "I was just asking him about Griphook. He says he's difficult to work with, so we'll have to convince him to help us pretty well," he sighed.

"You've got it," she smiled up at him, leaning back so her head rested against his stomach. Addie had tried helping him, Ron and Hermione with their plans to question Ollivander and Griphook, but Harry had insisted she focus on her health instead—to let them handle it.

Under different circumstances, she might've protested this, but she recognised the importance of rest. This war had already been so unpredictable that she needed to be prepared for anything. They had a safe haven for now, but it wasn't a guarantee. She had to use the resources here while she could—including the very comfy bed she'd stayed in for hours more than usual. Today she'd woken at noon after a long sleep, curled in the strong arms of a certain boy who'd been awake since dawn but hadn't wanted to leave her side.

For the first time in what felt like forever, her eyes didn't sting with fatigue, and the anxiety that lived in her chest had dulled to what seemed like an all-time low. Everything felt okay here, and her body felt it too.

With one last little peck and a "Wish me luck," Harry stepped away and got Ron and Hermione to follow him upstairs to the Goblin's room. Done with her cereal, Addie set the bowl down on the floor and closed her eyes, bringing her attention to the distant caws of seagulls flying overhead and the faint murmur of chat between Fleur and Luna floating in from outside. The quiet clicks of Dobby's knitting needles and his adorable quiet humming. The soft notes of the seashell wind chimes. The chair against her back, underneath her. The comforting weight of her locket laying against her chest.

She breathed in, out. In...out. Focusing not on the dull pain of her ribs, but of the ointment that was steadily healing them. Thinking not of her scars, of the dark mark, of her blackening veins, but the sun filtering in through the clouds, the warmth lingering on her shoulders from where Harry's hands had been, and the love that swirled in her chest just at the thought of him.

"Impressive," someone said quietly.

Opening her eyes, Addie saw Ollivander sitting in the chair beside her. She hadn't even heard him come in.

It was then she noticed the various objects floating around her. Her empty cereal bowl, books, vases, picture frames—even Dobby's ball of wool (he hadn't seemed to notice) and her own locket, all hovering in the air, balanced, barely moving. Her concentration fading, the objects came back down with soft thuds. Her locket rested back onto her chest, and she touched it instinctively.

She turned her gaze back to Ollivander. He had the same wrinkly lines, sporadic white hair, and kind eyes that he did when she first saw him all those years ago—when they'd discovered that she couldn't match a wand.

"I...didn't know I was doing that," she chuckled softly, and he warmly laughed with her, hands clasped around a mug of tea.

"Your magic is quite a spectacle, Adeline. You're quite the extraordinary witch." He observed kindly, an inquisitive look in his eye as though she were a rare specimen he couldn't quite figure out. He reminded her of Dumbledore, in a way. The less-scheming, more grandfatherly (or, Godfatherly, she should say) side of the deceased Headmaster. He shared the curious twinkle in his eye.

"Not lately, though," Addie said quietly, fiddling with her locket. She explained the way her magic had weakened ever since she fell ill, and how it hadn't really been the same since. That she couldn't perform spells or so much as think of it without pain shooting through her body. He listened thoughtfully; gaze fixed on the waves outside.

Once she finished, she waited expectantly, like maybe he could tell her exactly how to fix it, list how she could get better. But all he said was: "Hm."

Addie looked out the window again, biting her cheek. Maybe she'd said too much. Should she have told him all that? He hadn't actually asked, and she'd gone ahead and spilled her guts for him to make meaning out of when he didn't even want to, and—

"The pain you described," he started, and relief washed over her: she hadn't over spoke. "Did you feel it just now when you were meditating?"

"...Meditating?"

He smiled fondly. "You were grounding yourself, yes? Calming your mind, bringing yourself into the present?"

She thought about it. Nodded. "I think so."

"Well, that's meditating, and it's a very wise thing for a young witch like you to practice. A calm mind, a clear one, paves the way for wondrous magic." He sat back in his seat a little, taking a sip of tea. He studied her then for a moment. She fidgeted under his gaze, then—

"You don't trust yourself, do you?" A rhetorical question. One she wouldn't have an answer to, anyway. Those words stripped her bare. He saw right through her.

She cleared her throat. "I don't know what you mean," she tried.

"You've done terrible things in your past, haven't you?" he spoke objectively; matter-of-factly. So blunt that it hurt. She felt it in her chest, that heavy weight, that ache.

The things she'd tried so hard to push down and forget resurfaced in her mind. The muggles she'd been forced to hurt, to kill at the manor. Some she probably hadn't witnessed, passed out from exhaustion while Dabria took control day after day. The torture she'd put them through. Even Death eaters she'd killed or injured in the past—all of them like weights on her heart, good or bad. And worst of all, the look on Sirius' face as the green light struck him. A touch-sore wound she'd buried deeply. Harry may have forgiven her, but she hadn't forgiven herself.

Did Ollivander know? Had someone told him? Or was he assuming it? With dark magic comes dark actions, unforgiveable things. He knew she'd been used at the manor, at least. Knew she was Voldemort's experiment, his weapon, his 'daughter'. Even if he didn't know the extent of her past, the specifics, everything she'd done, everyone she'd hurt, he could probably see it all over her face. The Dark Mark on her forearm was still covered with the bandage Harry had applied, further buried beneath the sleeve of her long shirt—she didn't wear short sleeves anymore—but it may as well be tattooed across her forehead for everyone to see.

"Terrible things," he continued, and she blinked away tears as her eyes stung. She couldn't look at him. "You've been forced to make decisions no child should ever have to make. Forced away from a peaceful life, a normal one. You were born with the weight of the world on your shoulders. But listen to me, Adeline. None of it was ever your fault."

She couldn't hold back the tears now. His face was blurry as she finally looked at him.

"I understand the fear you feel. I understand you don't trust the dark magic within yourself, and by extension you don't trust yourself with any sort of powerful magic...but you must. You must. You have a good heart, and now is the time to irrevocably have faith in its power. It's the only way."

Addie took in a shaky breath. Her voice was thick and wobbly. "But how can you know that? How could you know it's good? This is the second time we've ever spoken. You don't know what I've become. What I've done. You don't know me."

"Maybe not." He looked at her kindly. Took yet another sip of his tea. It must be a good tea. "But what I do know is you are so full of love, Adeline. Despite everything the world has put you through, you remain a gentle soul. You have found love in a world so eager to hurt you. That is strength. That is good. You're holding it between your fingers right now."

Addie looked down. She was still fiddling with her locket. It was like he knew exactly what was inside it.

"Love and magic can entwine in powerful ways." he said, a twinkle in his eye. "Let it consume you. Let it heal you. Trust that it will guide you. Trust in your abilities, your morals, and no one will control you again. That's where your power lies, Adeline. Your magic has an influence that the Dark Lord could never truly embrace: love. That is your advantage. It is a strength he has always underestimated. Use that knowledge against him. Use it for you."

Addie nodded, wiping her tears away with her sleeve. "So it's like when I cast a Patronus? When I think about something happy?"

"Precisely!" Ollivander exclaimed. "You don't have to think about it too hard. Just feel. If you can draw your magic from an inner sanctuary of love, of peace, like when you were meditating just before, truly grounding yourself, it will strengthen the output. You will achieve marvellous things—better than you thought possible—as long as you trust yourself enough to achieve it. Do you understand?"

Addie nodded again. "I do. Thank you so much, really, Mr Ollivander. You don't know how much that means to me."

In the background, the footsteps of someone coming down the stairs. She turned in her seat, and it was Harry's gaze she met as he reached the bottom step. His soft smile switched to concern seeing her puffy eyes, but she smiled a little to let him know she was okay.

She turned back to Ollivander.

"The cure you're seeking is already within you. All you need to do is find it, dear." he finished his tea, nodded to her with a friendly smile, and stood as Harry lingered by the foot of the stairs, watching the interaction. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an afternoon nap to tend to. It was lovely speaking with you, Adeline. Remember what I said."

As he made his way to the next room, Ollivander sent Harry a polite smile as he walked by him. Harry returned it, albeit a little confused, and made his way over to Addie.

"You alright, love?" he asked fondly, reaching down to wipe a stray tear still on her cheek. She held his hand to her cheek, smiling up at him. His hair was ruffled as always, hand so gentle on her face, that familiar warmth in his eyes.

"More than alright," she laughed quietly, drinking in the sight of him. She was almost overwhelmed with gratitude for him. Everything about him. Everything that he was. Just that one touch made her chest burst into bubbles of love and adoration. He was so gentle. So him. She just wanted to hug him and kiss him forever and ever; engulf him in a tight squeezing hug and never let go.

It was then that something glowed between their hands.

Addie took her hand off his, and saw it was coming from her palm. Harry's hand slid from her face, trailing down her neck to rest on her shoulder, watching her palm. Then, the glow became small silvery wisps, and from that, emerged her butterfly patronus.

"Is that..." Harry trailed off.

"Yeah," she laughed, watching as it teetered on her hand, perched on her finger, and fluttered around the two, casting a soft glow over their skin.

"It didn't hurt?" he asked. She shook her head in amazement, speechless, and as she met his eyes, watched as a smile developed on his lips.

"I didn't..." she watched the delicate patronus circle them at a loss for words. She stood up slowly. "I didn't even cast it. I was just looking at you."

He stared at her, trailing down her arm, lips parted. "You mean..."

She almost choked up, nodding feverishly. "It's coming back. My magic is coming back!" she cupped a hand over her mouth and screamed a little as he scooped her into a tight hug and lifted her up, spinning her around as they laughed and cheered—Addie a mix between laughter and sobs of delight, wrapping her legs around his waist, pressing her face into his shoulder.

"You're brilliant. Fucking brilliant!" he cheered into her hair as she clung to him tighter than ever before, laughing as he pressed kiss after kiss to the side of her face, the butterfly coming to land on top of her head.

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a/n:
sorry for the wait on this chapter lovelies! i think subconsciously i've been procrastinating writing this story because i never want it to end 😭
but i'm so excited to do these two justice and holy hell is there so much in store in the remaining chapters of this series...
LOVE U ALL <33 as always let me know what you thought of the chapter!!!! i love hearing your feedback <3
so much love,
-g <333