46: Heartbeat

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[victoria's pov]

It was not a myth that all actions came with consequences. Or in other words, karma existed. With the locket in my possession, I've been feeling drained for the past ten years.

Ten years since Hepzibah, that greedy witch, had been dead. And ten years since Tom had disappeared from the end of the earth.

But despite it all, my "personal fountain of youth" had sparked a rumour around the corridors of Hogwarts. Students were beginning to notice my odd youthness. I was supposed to be forty years old. Or rather, look forty years old.

As much as I enjoyed my youthfulness, I craved for something more than just a locket and ring. I craved for something more than what reminded me of the past.

In mention of the past, I now only had letters of Gwen.

Only memories. Not a photograph.

In my mind, she was the cheerful young woman who raised me. Her curly brown locks and thin lips. Her bright brown eyes that gleamed with wonder and curiosity at every story I had to tell with my infrequent visits.

It would remain that way for me, the way I saw her.

The last time I saw her was the last time I heard from her. In 1959, death meeting her only at forty-eight. She was still young to me as much as I was to her.

It was not a time I wanted to relive.

The guilt of believing it was the consequence of taking what wasn't mine, though she was already slowly dying. It was hard to make myself understand that everyone around me would slowly leave the earth and I behind.

Hence why I had to find Nicolas Flamel.

Hence why I stood in the middle of the unknown. Albania's darkest forest, full of the world's most mysterious creatures and legends. It was no wonder why Nicolas Flamel would hide here in the aftermath of his assistance in the first battle between Dumbledore, the new headmaster of the school, and Grindelwald.

The compass-watch on my wrist flicked left and right as I hiked through the forest. It had been a week since I had journeyed away from Scotland.

With me, I carried a blanket, clothes, and the two heirlooms of Tom's. Being immortal, I would not need much. And the time turner was stuffed in my pocket, too precious to lose.

I felt my legs grow weak as I stumbled across a sudden stone on the ground. Ahead was a small hut and the watch ticked right and left quickly. He was near.

Making my way towards the hut, my muddy boots scraping across the stone ground, a young woman emerged from the hut.

She was of Asian descent and had long black hair. Her face was very pale as she raised her brow. She wore brown rags and had a broom in another hand.

I thought to myself that she was perhaps a cleaner of Nicolas Flamel.

"You are trespassing," she calls out. "Go back to whence you came from."

"I'm looking for Nicolas Flamel," I explained. "He has answers to my questions."

"What questions?" she demands as she approaches me cautiously. Under the moonlight, her skin shimmered like dragon scales, almost inhumanly.

"I- I want to discuss it with Nicolas Flamel," I say. "Of all people, he knows most of immortality."

"Immortality?" she questions. "You're an immortal?"

I nod and she slowly grins with realisation. I don't catch along to her silence.

"And that thing brought you here?" she asks, nodding to my compass-watch. I nod and her response is, "How peculiar."

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