#camillabbott

[ficra-blog1]

🔸 !!!!

name: Camilla 💛🌻🖤ringtone: “Kinder Blumen” by Real Estate

[leaguerpg]

🔸 !!

name: delete this also ringtone: who are you? – the who

alternatively

name: camilla abbott (Hufflepuff | 6th)ringtone: baby – justin bieber

[ficra-blog1]

Date: 1 September, 1944

Location: the kitchens beneath Hufflepuff Common Room

Time: Minutes after the explosion

Status: Closed ( @camillabbott )

Her heart was beating about her chest like a frantic bird. The din around her was frightening and overbearing, completely unlike the rumbling chatter of dinner only a handful of minutes before. People are crying, and when she errantly rubs at her cool cheek she finds that she’s been crying, too. She felt a little numb from all the confusion, to such a point that she couldn’t quite bring herself to reach out and comfort her nearest housemate. The fresh memories replay in her mind. One moment, she’s eating dinner, the next... Oh, that sound. Fiora hears its echo recreated in her head, biting the inside of her lip as she remembers the way her heart dropped, but that was nothing compared to when the school was struck. She swallows a whimper, releasing only a small and wavering exhale. Her bones still quake from the power of the impact. She can’t stop thinking about it, all of it. It’s horrifying.

The group of Hufflepuffs reached the kitchens, everyone pouring into its warmth and promise of safety. But, didn’t Hogwarts itself promise such a thing? Safety, Fiora thought, feels like little more than an illusion right now. Still, she entered into her refuge with a sense of relief lifting just a little of the weight from her shoulders. It’s enough to bring her back to herself once again. Concern filled her up, toe to crown; she turned to the person beside her and opened her arms. A younger boy looked up with cheeks wet like hers and rushed into the hug she’s offered. She holds him tight, smoothing his hair, murmuring comforting phrases to him: they’re safe here, everyone is together and safe—it will be okay.

Kharmali tells everyone to sit against the walls, like they did during the drills. Fiora lets go of the boy—she’s almost sure he’s a first year—and he gives her a watery grin as they make their way over to the far wall. As she walks, Fiora scans the crowd for Camilla. She’s a prefect, so Fiora expects her to be herding students or comforting someone in the crowd. She must be so worried.  She herself tried not to worry so much just yet. Camilla was surely fine. Worried, stressed, disturbed as much as anyone else, but fine enough all the same. That was Camilla’s way, to be fine. When Fiora spotted her, she couldn’t deny that her sigh was one of relief. Looking to make sure her new friend was still with her, Fiora waved her hand over her head, calling out Camilla’s name to get her attention.