Black's Prophecy || Book 3

Sixteen

Cordelia was sitting on the dirty floor with her face buried in her hands which rested on her propped up knee. She was breathing heavily, concentrating on her breathing pattern, trying to calm down the burning fury in her veins.

During this, however, she failed to notice the figure advancing towards her. A short, plump, balding man walked towards her quietly, knife in his hands.

But Cordelia's senses were heightened because the full moon was the day after tomorrow and when the man was two to three steps away from her, her head shot up in alarm.

The first things she noticed was the filthy appearance of the man as she shot up. She eyed the knife in his hand as he grinned widely at her, mockingly.

"Who the fuck are you?!" She asked. She was already furious and this psychopathic man looking at her like she was his prey was very unsettling and only fuelled her anger. She scowled at her own question as realisation hit her.

"Peter Pettigrew." She observed as his grin grew at his name and said, "rather sharp, aren't you?"

Cordelia clenched her jaw and gritted her teeth, "you dare speak to me that way, you treacherous bastard?!" she seethed.

Her eyes glowed green and she brandished her wand from under her sleeve at him. His eyes widened, he knew what she was capable of, he has seen what she did, both years she was here. He has been there all along. And at that realisation, she became more angry and the winds got stronger.

Pettigrew ran towards her all of a sudden, knife held to stab her but she dodged right in time. She didn't use her wand as it slipped out of her hands and clattered beside her, rolling down to the side at the sudden unexpected jerk.

She cursed under her breath and scrambled towards her wand. But that was a mistake, since the next moment, Cordelia was pinned to the ground, Pettigrew hovering above her with the knife pressed to her throat.

He laughed loudly at the way Cordelia's eyes widened and said, "don't meddle in things you shouldn't be a part of. Stop helping your fool of a father."

Cordelia glared at him, itching to punch him but stayed her ground and gritted out, her eyes still glowing green. She could push him of with her powers but she could not risk another scar, she had enough this year.

She spat at him, "don't talk about him, you filthy bastard!"

Pettigrew let go of her one hand and wiped his face before pressing the knife harder against her neck, drawing blood and glared at her, "you have some nerve saying that when you are under me. Just like your father," he scoffed but then smiled mockingly, "you look like him as well, such a pretty face he had, pity it got ruined in the azkaban."

The taunt and mocking tone did it, Cordelia could no longer hear anything except the blood rushing in her ears, she couldn't see anything except red and she couldn't feel anything except the blood lust coursing through her body.

Peter gasped when he saw Cordelia's eye turning red as the knife melted against her skin. He yelped and jumped back, his hand burning and sizzling as the remaining part of knife fell onto the ground.

He watched as his hands blistered with wide, frantic eyes as Cordelia stood up slowly, blood dripping down her neck, eyes glowing a blood red colour as fire covered her hands. Her necklace glowed red.

"My father is everything you could never be. My father has the very thing you gave up for power, love. When people will know the truth, he will be back and he'll have all the help from people who love him to heal the wounds but you," her voice was calm and the fire in her hands didn't burn her instead it comforted her. She spat his name venomously.