Messy love | Matheo Riddle

32

CHAPTER 31

TW : tr*ma, c!rse

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CHAPTER 32 - Ruined Life

"Not everyone will hold your hand till the end, Azura." 

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The ancient wooden chair creaked as the headmaster rose and approached Feyre. Extending his hands, his gray eyes bore deeply into hers, signaling her to join hands for the spell of apparition.

Feyre's distrusted eyes, inspected his hands before tentatively clasping her own with his wrinkled ones.

Her stomach churned as her vision snapped  to swirling , the sensation of sinking and exploding simultaneously. A wide range of colors flashed before her eyes in an instant, before abruptly halting as her foot landed on solid ground after the harrowing seconds of apparition. Gasping, she opened her eyes, finding herself and the headmaster circled by a group of peculiar wizards.

Snapping her hands out of Dumbledore, she held onto her wand pointing it shakily towards the unfamiliar figures.

It was a dimly lit, spacious room, the moonlight barely seeping through windows. It was a manor protected in secrecy, one owned by Dumbledore himself. The Headmaster had expertly apparated the frightened girl to the top floor, where light was lacking immensely. In the middle of the wizard circle, Dumbledore and Feyre stood at the center. 

"Is this the special one?"  A witch finally spoke with a fierce, feminine voice after keeping her eyes focused on Feyre. 

The witch had a pale, heart-shaped face with dark, twinkling eyes and short, spiky hair in a vibrant violet shade. Locking eyes, the violet-haired girl stepped forward her playful eyes examining Feyre's figure. Extending her hand, smirking lightly. "Tonks," she acknowledged as she shook Feyre's hand forcefully. Nymphadora's eyes moved to the figure behind Feyre as her next words were meant for  him, "We'll have her in good shape in no time, Albus"

Nymphadora Tonks. Feyre inwardly acknowledged her. The young witch had heard her name circling in Professor meetings when she would wander in the corridors late night. 

Nodding, Feyre's eyes moved to the wizard beside her.

A tall man with long black hair and gray eyes. His face carried a spoiled, haughty look. Grinning, his gray eyes slightly widened, "After all these years, Albus, have you finally told her?" the man asked, grinning.

"Well, I figured the time was right, Black," Dumbledore answered to the tall man. Sirius Black took a step forward, his hands grasping Azura's shoulders on each side as he studied her features, making Azura flinch.

"Poor little thing, Sirius, she looks frightened," Tonks commented on Azura's expression, appearing beside the man.

"Surely you didn't force her into this?" the man asked, snapping his head to Dumbledore, his expression hardening.

"Believe me, it was fully her choice," Dumbledore responded defensively, his voice void of emotion.

"Sirius Black, Azura," the man finally acknowledged his identity. Sirius smiled as his hands cupped Feyre's cheeks affectionately, as if reuniting with a long-lost daughter.

Feyre's face flushed upon seeing Sirius's intense gaze. Although she had heard various rumors about the wizard's escape from Azkaban, she hadn't kept up with the Daily Prophet and the wide range of events in the wizarding world. All she knew was that Sirius Black, the alleged murderer of Peter Pettigrew, had escaped Azkaban after twelve years of imprisonment.