[𝕸𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖆]
(Aj) Unrelenting and deadly;
involving loss of divine grace
or spiritual death.
❝This is the story of becoming a hero the hard way.❞
The Prisoner Of Azkaban - The Deathly Hallows
Started - 30 December 2020
Finished - ??
Theo Not...
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"𝗔𝗵, 𝗠𝗶𝘀𝘀 𝗕𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗸."
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐈𝐀'𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐒 𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 her weight as she trudged along the dark and void corridors of Hogwarts.
It was later the same evening as Professor Umbridge's first lesson, which, in Cassiopeia's opinion, was an absolute shit show.
The Professor had wanted to speak to Cassiopeia, for reasons unknown to her, but what she did know was she was nervous.
She knew Professor Umbridge already disliked her, it was obvious, she had said one thing in the lesson and already she seemed to be on Umbridge's hit list.
Although Cassiopeia was sure Umbridge hated her before she even met her, the most obvious reason being that Umbridge was apart of the ministry, the same people that wanted Cassiopeia dead.
Cassiopeia released a soft yawn as she turned in her heals and strode into Umbridge's classroom.
She walked quietly up the stairs, not wanting to annoying Umbridge with sound, and waited patiently outside her office, knowing Harry was currently there for his detention.
After what felt like years the door to Umbridge office finally swung open and out walked a shook up Harry who was gripping his hand tightly as he shut the door behind him.
"Harry, are you okay?" Cassiopeia asked in a hushed whisper.
"Fine fine." Harry tone was sharp and rushed, letting Cassiopeia know he was obviously lying.
"No you're not." She shot back, now walking after Harry as he made his was back through Umbridge's classroom, "What's wrong with you hand?"
"Nothing."
"Stop lying Harry, let me see."
Cassiopeia reached her hand out and grabbed Harry's wrist, stopping him in his tracks. She grabbed his other hand and, before he could protest, started to inspect it. Cassiopeia eyes widened once she realised there was writing on his hand, writing not done by any quill.
