Hi sweet readers, thank you so for your beautiful reviews and follows. it made my heart all blossom to have you read this humble story so. I hope you like this chapter and please let me know what you think and if you'l like this story to continue and blossom into Cilka and Tom's tale. I hope you are all well and safe, there's been so many horrors this year so I hope each of your hearts are feeling comfort wherever you may be reading this from. The world needs more love, and so I wish with all my heart you may feel that so. With all my love, Elodie.
The sky was dark and wet as Cilka woke, as streams of grey pooled across the wooden floorboards in a wakening call. Cilka buried herself deeper under her quilt, pulling the fabric over her nose as her eyes flickered open and watched the wakening sky seep into their room. It was always dark, always wet now – as if even the skies had given up hope on the world beneath.
Hope. That word clung to Cilka's mind as she treasured those last morning moments in bed. She knew everyone's hope was fading, flickering under the winds and power of those that now commanding these halls. And yet one grain still rested in her heart, one grain of hope – one grain of him. Turning to lay on her back, she looked up at the ceiling above, looked up at the artificial sky her and the girls in her dormitory had crafted from magic. There floated a now wilting sun, flowers interweaving on vines between stormy clouds whose petals drooped and fell and dissolved in the air.
She outstretched her hand, outstretched it towards the wilting flowers and their tumbling petals. Closing her eyes, she held in her mind moments where they once bloomed so fully, where singing and laughter filled these sweet honey walls. It all seemed so long ago, seemed like a dream. Maybe it was, she thought. Maybe those days so untamed and happy were a dream and now they were waking up. But no, she couldn't believe that, couldn't give in to the despair which echoed within the halls.
Opening her eyes, she slowly sat up – hoisting herself onto her elbows as she looked at her sleeping friends. Hope, she thought once more and got out of her bed. Walking soft and light, Cilka thread her arms through her dressing gown and went down the stairs into the common room. She was the only one there, and she could not blame the others for wishing to sleep longer and cling on those dreams. Seeing the hot coco station in the corner of the room, Cilka busiest herself as she placed six cups on a tray and began to prepare them so. Her fingers trembled as she did, trembled in the cold that nipped and her suppressed pain which had coiled its way around her heart.
She replayed the conversation she had with Otilie last night, replayed each word and gesture. She loved Otilie, loved her since her first year at Hogwarts – but at the same time she couldn't help but feel so alone. It was curious how that may be, how you may be surrounded by others, seen as that sweet and dainty flower, and yet inside you feel so alone, so misunderstood. She closed her eyes as tears welled in her eyes, as she thought of the past she kept so hidden from her friends and why she was the way she was – why she was up each morning before everyone else and making them hot coco.
Pouring the thick chocolatey mixture into the mugs, she decorated them with whipped cream and marshmallows. Taking a sip of her own first, she then careful took them all upstairs to their room. Placing the tray on the table in the centre of their room, she went to Otilie and placed a kiss on her forehead.
"Wake up, sweet girl. It's time for a new day." Her voice was soft as she woke her friend gently, as she smiled at her Otilie's sleepy groans and repeated the same gesture to the other girls.
"Is it morning already?" Poesy asked, her voice muffled by her pillow.
"No, it can't be." Briony replied from her bed, her voice rough as sleep parched her. "It's still dark."
"Oh Cilka, don't you know I only wake when the sun rises? If the sun is sleeping then so am I." Poesy chimed, snuggling underneath her covers a little further so she disappeared, the only trace left of her being her strawberry blond hair poking up in tangled curls.
"Oh Poesy," Cilka sighed, her voice light and musical as she placed the hot coco's beside their beds. "I think if you do that then you may be asleep forever. Our own little sleeping beauty."
"Well if she's sleeping beauty, then maybe she'll finally get her sweet crush, to kiss her." Briony winked, sitting up and pulling Cilka by her sleeve to sit beside her.
"Wouldn't that be a twist on the tale," Cilka began, leaning against Briony as she sipped her hot coco. "Sleeping Beauty – a sweet little victim or a manipulative temptress luring her preeeey!" Poesy threw her pillow across the room, hitting Cilka in the chest hushing her words into laughter.
"Oh, be careful! I nearly spilled!" Briony exclaimed nursing her hot coco whilst Cilka giggled and rested her head against Briony's shoulder, pillow pulled to her chest.
"Would everyone please shush before I place a sleeping charm on each of your pretty little heads." Olive grumbled, her arm draped out of her bed as blankets and quilts mounted on top of her. "I have a headache and your giggling is making me dread this day a little more."
"I don't think anything may make me dread this day more." Briony said as she chewed a marshmallow. "I start the day with Muggle Studies and Alecto Carrow." Cilka laid her hand on Briony's which rested against the covers, her thumb caressing the scarred skin there which lingered from the beatings she had endured. Briony was a Muggle-born witch, her mother a florist and her father a builder. She was sweet and humble, a talent in Quidditch although she never praised her rare gift. She lead Hufflepuff to win more games than they ever had in their House's history, and yet Briony never made a fuss or celebrated too loud. She was quiet with her own accomplishments, timid in them and yet loud in supporting others.
"If anything happens Briony, I still have some of my salve left which may help heal you so." Cilka said softly, holding her friends hand in hers, the scars prickling her soft palm.
"It's alright Cilka, you risk too much by doing so. I don't know what any of us would do if the Carrows got their hands on you. You're so dainty and darling, the only light left within this Castle. I can't risk that, I can't risk them blowing you out." Cilka smiled shy at her friends words, dipping her head down so her eyes rested on their intertwined hands. Her hand was so small to her friends, so unmarred and soft in comparison to the harsh tale that painted Briony's. She wished she could paint over it, paint over her friends scars and heal her flesh and heart. It made her wilt inside.
"I think you mean we can't risk that." Otilie chimed, getting out of bed and padding her way to the fireplace where her clothes lay. "And Poesy can't risk it either as your hot coco's are the only thing which will get her out of bed." Otilie threw Poesy a cheeky grin as Poesy sipped at her hot coco, her long strawberry blond hair framing her freckled face like mane.
"She's right." Poesy said. "If it weren't for your hot chocolates, then my darling Prince Philip would be forced to come and wake me with a kiss from my slumber."
"Prince Philip? I think you mean Robin." Olive grumbled from under her blankets. Poesy blushed at the sound of his name, her cheeks turning a strawberries and cream shade which matched her hair. She had been sweet on him since her fourth year, since the Triwizard Tournament and she peered a little too far into the water during the second task and accidentally fell in. Seeing her tumble, Robin dove in and rescued her. He barely said a word to her, and yet the look in his eyes left a mark on her day dreamers heart. He was a Ravenclaw, tall and lean – athletic just as he was smart.
"We shared a look the other day you know." Poesy said, slinking down her pillow as her eyes glazed over with glee. "I was drawing underneath one of the trees in the courtyard during lunch when he walked past with his friends. He caught my eye and oh goodness! He just stared at me so! It was so warm and comforting, and the way he smiled…oh goodness! It makes me look forward to going to breakfast today!"
"Speaking of which, what time is it Cilka?" Otilie asked, sitting by the fire as she buttoned her shirt.
"It was 7:30 when I woke you so, we have a little time to get ready and have breakfast." Cilka answered, her fingers playing with the hem of her white night dress as she still sat at Briony's side.
"What about you Cilka? During this time of fear and unknown, do you have a fella who's captured your eyes to make the days go by a little less dark?" Poesy asked, her eyes sparkling with those daydreamer hues.
Cilka smiled timidly, brushing her hair behind her ear as she suddenly became nervous. She never had a boyfriend before, never had a crush that made heart blossom and her eyes shine with those hues nestled in Poesy's. She hadn't fallen for anyone here, and no one had fallen for her, not really. She was pretty and innocent, dainty and small. Some compared her to that of a fairy, with her big doe eyes and gentle mannerisms. She was shy, very shy and so whilst boys looked her way – no one had approached her with such intentions – as if her innocence and purity was a barrier they were too afraid to break through.
But despite all of this, despite not having experienced love in real life, her heart had fallen deeply and oh so completely in love with the male characters in her books. She would spend hours daydreaming about them, imagining little scenarios of where she could craft a new spell and slip into the stories she read – to meet them and fall in love with the soul expressed through the words that she already read and adored. Sometimes when she was lonely, she would imagine one of them with her – laying next to her as they held her in their arms and whispered in her ear. To be in someone's arms, to feel safe and protected…she longed for what more than anything.
"No one comes to mind." Cilka said, her eyes timid and bashful as she looked to her books which were stacked high on her nightstand.
"No one expect a Death Eater perhaps." Otilie said, fixing her tie with mischief in her eyes.
"A what?" Poesy exclaimed, her hot coco dribbling from her parted mouth in surprise. Cilka stiffened, stopped playing with the hem of her skirt as she felt all eyes rest upon her. Even Olive had braved pealing back her covers to peep at her, her fringe a mess upon her forehead.
"All I said Otilie was maybe our fight against fight strategy may not win us this war. Maybe," her voice grew small as she felt the weight of their stares upon her. "Maybe the answer may lie in saving them, in understanding the misunderstood and opening their hearts to, well…to love." At her words, Briony placed her empty mug down and rested the back of her hand to Cilka's forehand as if to check her temperature.
"Is she alright Briony?" Poesy asked, her knees now pulled to her chest as she looked at Cilka with such concern.
"Her temperature feels alright, but there must be something strange if she's suggesting such things." Briony said, leaning in close to Cilka as if to inspect her eyes.
"I'm being serious." Cilka said, getting off Briony's bed and resting against the pillar of her own. "I…I know it sounds odd, but my mind can't help it, can't help but wander there. That what if all of this may solved through love, what if all this may be saved through a gentle touch or caress before it is all too late." Her fingers traced the wood as she talked, traced the patterns of the engraved daisies and vines which climbed the wood in etchings. "They still have a heart, it's just deprived of something soft, something loving and oh I just can't help it." Cilka exclaimed, twirling to sit on her bed and hug her pillow close. "I know I must sound like a whimsical daisy who's lost her petals but, but I can't stop thinking of it. Thinking of them and him before all this happened - why it had to happen. If only I-" her voice trailed as she thought, as an idea came to her in waves so hesitant and yet offering.
"If only you what, Cilka?" Olive asked, sitting up – her eyes hard and unwavering as they bore into Cilka's honey brown ones.
"If only I had a time-turner."