Like a sweet post-battle melody, the wizarding world tries to guide its wounds towards healing, clinging to the fragile promise of a new equilibrium.
In the wake of the Battle of Hogwarts, ten years of calm have passed, giving the impression of a fr...
The blue glow of my hands cast a familiar luminescence in the dark corridors, creating an unearthly atmosphere that contrasted with the coldness of the place.
My progress was determined, one sure step after another, propelled by an anger that consumed every trace of sadness or tears.
This fierce determination was fueled by a deep conviction that this tragedy must come to an end, and quickly.
When I opened the gold-detailed cabinet, the concerned voices of my friends and Mattheo's cries seemed distant. Their worry was lost in the din of my thoughts, because at that moment, nothing else mattered.
Mattheo was no longer himself anyway.
The eerie creak of the Undercroft's gates opening revealed a macabre scene, lit only by the braziers hanging from the ceiling. Mattheo stood there, clinging to the wall, arms stretched out to either side, exhausted. His fatigue was palpable, but it couldn't compete with mine.
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The sound of my footsteps echoed in the large, dark room as I approached him, uncaring of the questioning looks from my friends. Mattheo's face bore the marks of torture, blood streaming from his nose and cuts tearing his skin through the tatters of his sweater.
"Val, what..." Theodore began, his voice tinged with worry, but I ignored him. My eyes were fixed on the man who had possessed my heart, breaking it time and time again.
Paying no attention to my friends, I slowly raised my hand towards the bound man, feeling my hate-driven powers focus. Mattheo looked up, meeting my gaze.
An exhausted, but cruel, crooked smile stretched his lips.
And in that moment, our gazes met, the silent anger giving way to the impending storm. Fury boiled inside me as I prepared to put an end to this endless tragedy.
My hand trembled slightly, charged with power and clear intention. Mattheo's gaze, although tired, gave off a glimmer of challenge and anticipation. I tried to collect all the negative emotions, the rage, the hatred, in the hope of making him feel them, even if only for a moment.
The blue flames danced around my palm, coiling like ice snakes ready to bite. I held my hand inches from his face, hoping that something in him would respond.
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