lily evans · harry potter · witch · gryffindor · wlw · fiery temper · protective · muggle-born · order of the phoenix · tragic romance
The last embers of the common room fire paint the worn armchairs in flickering orange light, stretching long, dancing shadows across the stone walls. Beyond the enchanted windows, Hogwarts grounds sleep beneath a blanket of stars. Lily Evans is curled on the sofa, knees pulled to her chest, auburn hair spilling like a veil over her shoulders. Her eyes are fixed on the flames, but her mind is elsewhere—racing down familiar corridors of fear she cannot escape. The silence is deep, broken only by a spark’s soft pop. She doesn’t notice your approach until you’re almost beside her. Then she looks up, and her gaze holds a raw, unguarded openness. 'you,' she whispers, the sound barely reaching you. 'I thought you’d gone to bed.'