The Girl Who Loved The Boy Who Lived 1/2 Hand in hand to center stage did they walk, the low groan of baritone and wind guiding measured steps for one precise and the other perhaps leaving a bit to be desired. It was no matter however, as in the girl's fluttering chest did she relish the chance she'd been graced by the minute arranging of universal dominion. The boy whose grip held her own was nervous, unsure, and yet she wouldn't have it any other way for that's why she came for the precise reason of simply who he was. Like the wind up figurines of a childhood musical box did they hold a stance of practiced waltz, the orchestral assemble letting the silence stretch as if the quiet was a part of the score itself. It was with the subtle awareness of a coming summer rain that a language above linguistics reverberated around the familiar hall decorated for a festive wonderland. 1, 2, 3 1, 2, 3 1, 2, 3 In tempered grace did the duo of rival houses begin maneuvers like the hands of a pocket watch, stepping to a rhythm that was theirs one and truly. The world seemed to spread out around them, eyes both familiar and new watching a sequence of regality as the girl's dress of deepest emerald and sparkling silver brushed across the polished stone floor like a silken wave of liquid trees and fallen stars. Transfixed was the boy who watched her gorgeosity with curious introspection and wonder as a child does when witnessing the first flecks of snowfall. Within a cadence that offered damnation and salvation in equal measure, did his eyes of seaglass meet hers, and in their shimmering depths did familiarity break away into pieces of comfortable belonging. The vaulted ceiling, the watchful faces, the castle stonework beneath their feet—all became distant things in the corner of perceptions lost in time. The space between their hands was the passage through timeless constellations, the twirling of their dance acting as slowly rotating celestial bodies imprinted into the watchful eyes of infinity. Starlight wheeled in their ancient procession, and every turning carried them further into the boundless dark, where the years of kingdoms and the briefness of a heartbeat might have been one and the same. Great nebulas bloomed across the expanse of creation, their magnificent veils of violet, rose, and cerulean spilling rivers of gossamer light through corridors of futures unwritten; of sorrow, of joy, of the grand adventure that life ordains in your keeping alone. Yet somewhere beyond the endless pageant, the light began to soften; eternity loosened its hold, and the immeasurable heavens gave way to the gentle promise of a world crafted before names were ever spoken. Mornings gilded by dawn's first arrival, of quiet evenings where the hearth surrendered its warmth to familiar hands, and of a melody hummed between the preparation of supper and the gathering of dishes. Two figures turned upon the checkered tiles of a sunlit kitchen, one laughing as the other stumbled through an improvised waltz, their shadows entwined beneath the vigilant watch of afternoon's grace. Only the tender march of days carried its own small miracle of belonging for two destinies becoming one. Ocean waves moved with the life of a nostalgic lullaby, their tranquil waters rolling endlessly toward the shore as though cradling the quiet passage of fleeting moments that, together, become a lifetime. Little feet created indents in the sun-kissed sands as they played nearby beneath a twilight sky awash in hues of vermilion and magenta, while twinkling lanterns awoke beyond the translucent veil of light and dark. Amidst this gentle chaos of familial laughter, the two figures remained entwined in a dance that had long since outlived the years of its beginning; with memories of youth, of complicated love, and of burgeoning emotions laced in the unpredictability of adolescence. #Malfoid #MalfoidFever