She was the vessel to be sacrificed, the most perfect specimen of the Hawk family in six hundred years. She wanted to live, to be herself, to light a lamp for herself in the darkness. She studied ancient astronomical spells and delayed Dumbledore's curse in the stars; she invented shadow anchoring to lock targets in the dark with just her breath; she sneaked into the cellar of Malfoy Manor alone and saved seven lives from the Dark Mark.
Draco waited in the broom cupboard for the light, and she gave it. Half an orange, the words "You deserve it", and the golden eyes that he will remember for the rest of his life. He didn't know if that was like it. All he knew was that every orange he ate afterwards was not sweet.
Gardenia was reading a book in the snow, her face was frozen, and she said, "I like the cold." She took off the scarf and wrapped it around her neck. It didn't say "I'm not cold", it didn't say "you are wearing it". Just gathered around. Gardenia didn't say thank you. She lowered her head and continued reading. There is an orange peel mark on the page.
She saved everyone. She didn't save herself. She doesn't need saving. She just waited a long time. Waiting for a sentence - "The way you eat oranges has not changed." She smiled. Very small. The corners of his mouth curved a little. Enough.
Concept: black is her, white is her. The ash was the gap where the wind blew when they stood together.