Two
Books: a noun, but so much more. Books are something that give life and hope to millions of different people. When you are a kid you learn to read simple words and phrases, when you a teen you have your nose into books after books and when you're an adult you know that books are the key to freedom.
Books held a dual significance in the world of our dear Alexandra—they were both a balm and a benediction. Page after page, she embarked on literary voyages, voraciously consuming the thoughts and visions of authors. Through their words, she beheld the world through their eyes, yet seldom glimpsed it through her own. This was the blessing of knowledge, bestowed upon her by the tomes she cherished.
However, there lay a curse entwined within this literary realm. Alexandra's mind ceaselessly whirred, refusing to grant her respite or allow her to slow her pace. To pause was to risk capture, or so she believed, though deep down she knew this notion to be only partially true. Yet, when your entire childhood is shaped by such a belief, how does one discern the truth? Often, the truth proves more disquieting than the comforting embrace of a lie.
And so, we find ourselves witnessing a book nestled in the delicate hands of our dear Alexandra—a book of such exquisite craftsmanship that it could easily grace the hallowed walls of a museum. The thin, ink-filled pages seemed to transcend time itself, inviting readers into a realm below, where fairies danced in resplendent, colorful dresses, and castles rose majestically like the peaks of Mount Everest. Every stroke of the brush, every sweet golden detail painted upon those pages spoke of timelessness.
Lost within the enchanting narrative, Alexandra remained poised for any unforeseen attack, even though the likelihood of such an event was minimal. Yet, the realm of the impossible was a realm she knew all too well. Seated in the reception of a towering edifice, reaching skyward as if yearning to touch the heavens, seemed an unlikely setting for an assault. However, the same could be said of her runes lesson—a place equally unassuming, yet unforeseen dangers could always lurk in the shadows.
That's why we could see a book in our dear Alexandras small scared hands. A book as well written as if it could been a painting in a museum. The ink field thin pages was a expression of timelessness. A land down under, a land with fairy's with colorful dresses and castles as big as mount Everest; painted in the most beautiful pink color with those sweet golden details.
Even if she was lost in the book she was as ready for attack, even if that was unlikely to happen. But you never really know what's impossible, our dear Alexandra is prof of that. But seating in the reception of a tower ,as tall as it could touch the sky wasn't one of the top ten places to get attacked. But neither was her runes lesson.
Why she was sitting there was easy to explain- as she was now a Stark, (even if she hade hade that name for years) and that meant living with him and his fiancé. A man that hade no name till her yet, but she then again didn't know her dads name Either. She did know her dads fathers name and his history but that's as close she got.
It didn't matter, as she planned on going into her room, well if she got a own room and never go outside tills she was old enough to move.
They didn't want her here, if they did they wouldn't have sent her away from the beginning. They didn't want her, she didn't want them.
She wasn't incapable of love; she was just hurt.
Tonks died, a sister
Snape died, a quite morally grey teacher she had spend days arguing with
Dumbledore died, a man as bright as she
Hedwig died, a pet she cuddled with
Collins died, a kid with a smile as bright as ever
Cedric died, a best friend
Lavender died, a independent woman she looked up to
Moody died, a hero
Dobby died, the cutest creature that have ever walked one earth
All of those names was close to her heart. She was still a puff, a huffelpuff. You could think that she of all people would be in Ravenclaw. But for the ones eleven year old girl wasn't reading the most important thing but love was. She hade learned only through books how love could make such of a big difference.
" Hey! Don't just sit there. We are over floating on work. Assist the doctors in lab three." A angry voice snapped on her, as she looked up she was meet with the storm grey eyes of a man in his 50s.
" Sir, I don't know what you mean." She politely reapplied. Her teachers would be satisfied of her if she still was in the Castel. But now was she just standing in front of a very angry man.
"Ah, I show you." As he angrily snapped on her, he toke her elbow and dragged her up from her chair and till a elevator that went up to what she guessed was lab three. Lab three was a McDonald's sized white room field with books and crumpled papers. A black chalkboard with equations scrupled down sloppy.
" Perfect une assistance, Come et help moi!" A French voice echoed through out the buzzing lab. A simple push was everything she needed to start helping the middle aged women. After a while was the first terrifying experience now a thrill.
Harmony thrived within the confines of that room, where amiable connections flourished between each individual present. "Everyone" encompassed the diverse assembly of five individuals: a charismatic male, a free-spirited non-binary person, a gender-fluid individual (currently identifying as she/her), and two/three radiant women.
She abstained from laughter and refrained from active participation in the conversation, yet her countenance bore a serene smile as she mingled with the others. Their appreciation for her assistance was evident, while our dear Alexandra's skills, though slightly rusty from her prolonged absence from the laboratory, still possessed enough scientific prowess to impress them.
Despite what one might have surmised, she did not appear burdened by stress or apprehension regarding her father. Perhaps she contemplated that if he had forgotten her in the past, he would simply forget her once more.
Let us not cast a harsh light upon our dear Alexandra, for she harbored no expectation of his presence in her life. She was unaccustomed to experiencing care from another, as she had never had the opportunity to wander freely within the confines of the castle or find solace at Hogwarts, where nobody deemed it necessary to offer her their concern, even when she was a respected professional. Though they cared in their own way, it was a prevalent notion that being the brightest witch of their time absolved her from the need for care.
One might argue that the twins displayed a semblance of empathy towards her emotions and well-being, yet genuine worry never beset them.
She arrived at adulthood before she could fully embrace her inner child. There were few individuals who truly cared for her, with Molly and Arthur Weasley being among the rare few. Their care was evident only during those fleeting moments when a colorfully adorned tree with an angel atop graced the corner of the living room.
In conclusion, she had no reason to perceive any fault in her actions.
Unknown by our dear Alexandra a panicked Tony was desperately asking Friday were she was.