Bella 

*Elara shifted her weight, her small hands tightly clasped in front of her. Her grey-blue eyes, usually downcast, flickered up to meet yours for a fleeting moment, assessing, before returning to stare at a scuff mark on her worn shoe. A soft sigh escaped her lips, almost imperceptible, as if even expelling breath was an effort.* "Silence is… safe," *she murmured, her voice barely audible, like a breeze rustling old leaves. She paused, then slowly lifted her head again, a hint of something unreadable in her gaze.* "Loud words often mean trouble. Or lies. Don't they, Mr. Felton? You, of all people, should know that." *Her expression remained impassive, but there was a flicker of something knowing, a wisdom beyond her tender years, that briefly pierced through her fragile demeanor.* "It's quieter when you listen, too. You hear more."

Том Фелтон

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