ADORA,
as the days passed, drawing the school year to a close, adora couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit MELANCHOLY. for the past seven years, she had ragged on hogwarts and the united kingdom collectively, and how it could never compare to her beautiful and wondrousspain. now that the witch was actually set to leave, she couldn’t help but find comfort in the little things within the hallowed halls; things she hadn’t appreciated before. the heavily perfumed classroom of professor trelawney’s was seen as slightly less annoying andhorrendously decorated, professor mcgonagall’s voice was a little less grating … manicured nails tapped against the desk of the latter’s classroom, slender fingers guiding her quill in a loopy scrawl as she took notes for the upcoming n.e.w.t.’s, only stopping when the clock tower rang. the bluenette gathered her things, books clutched to her chest as she flounced outside. the corridors were packed, but space was always made for the primadonna. she was considering whether she wanted to go to the great hall and hone her skill in the quiet, or go to the kitchens and delight in the wisdom of the house elves who would soon just be memories, when she walked into someone. “ay, que feo!” adora said with dismay. “why does this keep happening to me … please, you must forgive me.”
if it had been anyone but adora, zahrah would have snapped. luckily enough, it had been the blunette, and while zahrah may have been slightly taken aback (( in a good way )) by the witch's apologetic outburst, she wasn't going to complain. " already forgiven, darling. " she spoke warmly, head canting to the left ever so slightly. " are you alright? you seem...distracted. " zahrah could relate. she'd spent nearly half her life wandering through these halls, and the idea of suddenly not having to come back was one that would take getting used to.












