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chapter twelve. ( the end has come )
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ASCELLA HAD NEVER BEEN PART OF A STRANGER GROUP BEFORE. Crookshanks led the way out of the tunnel; Lupin, Pettigrew and Ron went after him, all chained together. Professor Snape drifted eerily along, controlled by Black's wand, his head repeatedly hitting the ceiling of the tunnel at Black's power of the wand.
Ascella staggered behind, her breathing shallow. Her vision, in a matter of minutes, had become blurry, her eyes squinting instensely so she could see what was in front of her and to ensure she didn't trip over any miscellaneous bits of rubble. Harry, who had noticed her troubled state, grasped her hand softly and murmured, "Ascella? Are you alright?"
Her head felt heavy on her neck, but she lifted it nonetheless, to meet Harry's eyes. "Me? Oh, yeah, I'm fine," she brushed off with a nonchalant wave of her hand, but the slurring of her words caused Harry to immediately see through her facade.
"Okay, well, watch your step," he mumbled, steadying her as she almost stumbled over a tree root that had sprouted out of the ground. Ascella muttered a small thanks, brushing her dishevelled hair out of her face, her fingers interlocked tightly with Harry's.
Eventually, after what felt like hours, they fell out of the hole at the start of the Whomping Willow, greeted with the luminous lights Hogwarts emitted. Ascella felt herself take a deep breath of relief, the light winds of summer comforting on her face. Her hand fell from Harry's, a dull coldness spreading through her hand as the warmth Harry held disappeared almost instantly.
"Ascella?" Black's sheepish voice rang through her mind. She whirled around, Black's — almost ashamed — face shining under the silver gleam. "Can I — er — speak with you?"
