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She tucked a stay curl behind one ear and knew that it was winning--that curiosity, that manipulative wondering, that small thing that said it is better to seek than to find.
It was too much to take at some moments; that everything her life had been pointing towards had failed her.
She verged on speaking several times, but things were weak about her just then; she was having a bad hair day, she was catching a cold, she had a weird feeling that something was probably stuck between her teeth.
But she guessed that there was a freedom in allowing oneself to realize that one really didn’t have any idea about another person, no matter the kind of past one had...
Astoria realized that Draco had come farther, much farther than her in understanding that they were not unique in their feelings towards their families...
It had been a month since that day, give or take one or two, and enough had happened in that month to render the rest of her graduated life almost entirely worthless.
It’s the pain of impossible finds. That’s it. That’s all. And the light coming in through that window and its blinds which Astoria thinks have never seen proper daylight, not in Diagon Alley, not here, not here, is tragic.
“Oh, right,” she said. “Hannah made me stay. Said I couldn’t apparate.”
“You’ve felt the cold, I think,” Hannah said, nodding at the windows. Snow had gathered in the wooden panes.
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