Zhyra Potter, a talented young witch and the sister of the infamous James Potter, finds herself caught in a web of secrets and mysteries during her time at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As she navigates the complexities of friendships...
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𑁍𑁍𑁍
Tw: Torture, language
Zhyra
With the recent happenings, I could no longer deal with all the buzz around Hogwarts. The news about Regulus and me spread like wildfire, becoming the talk of the town. Many were skeptical, questioning the unlikely union between a Death Eater's son and a Potter, or vice versa, a blood-traitor dating the Pureblood Supremacist's son. The rumors swirled incessantly, fueling the already tense atmosphere within the school.
Ever since the incident, Regulus and I hadn't been in touch. I didn't know if he was avoiding me because of the rumors or if he was simply looking out for his own well-being. Regardless, it didn't matter to me anymore. All I wanted was for the rumors to die down, allowing us both to move forward.
With a heavy heart and weary steps, I made my way to my next class. The weight of the situation hung heavily on my shoulders, dampening my spirits and appetite. I pulled my cloak over my head, shielding myself from prying eyes and avoiding any unnecessary interactions.
As I reached the third floor, I unexpectedly found myself face-to-face with Narcissa Black, flanked by two of her Slytherin cronies. I desperately tried to navigate past them, hoping to avoid any confrontation, but luck seemed to have abandoned me in that moment.
"Well, well, if it isn't the blood-traitor bitch," Narcissa sneered, her laughter echoing through the corridor, amplified by the gleeful encouragement of her loyal followers.
My blood boiled at her words, a surge of anger coursing through my veins. However, I refused to let her provoke me. Summoning every ounce of strength, I took a deep breath and met her cold gaze head-on. "What do you want, Black?" I retorted, the name dripping with disdain.
Narcissa's smirk widened, relishing in the discomfort she was causing. "Oh, nothing much, just wanted to remind you of your rightful place, in the shadows where you belong," she taunted, her words laced with venomous disdain.
Despite the fury rising within me, I clenched my fists, determined not to let her words break me. I refused to let her narrow-minded judgments define my worth. With unwavering resolve, I held my head high, my voice steady. "Your twisted ideals only serve to expose the darkness that resides within you, Narcissa. I won't allow your prejudices to define who I am or what I am capable of."
Narcissa's expression twisted with anger, her eyes blazing with fury. She took a step closer, attempting to intimidate me. But I stood firm, unyielding in the face of her cruelty.
"Watch your back, Potter. Your day of reckoning will come," she hissed, her wand aimed at me with malicious intent. Before I could react, a stunning spell was cast, striking me with a sudden force. My vision blurred, darkness enveloped my senses, and I succumbed to unconsciousness, collapsing to the cold stone floor.
