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fourteen // blood of the sacrificed
summer, 1993 !
𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐘, 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘, 𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐒𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓, covered in disgusting slime and mud. She collapsed into the nearest seat the moment they arrived back in the castle, feeling oddly anxious and jittery. She couldn't seem to sit still; she was practically shivering, her muscles dancing beneath her skin in an inexplicable trembling that didn't feel warrant at all.
Was she scared? She didn't think she was. The danger was gone. The diary's projection of Tom Riddle was gone—dead, if the concept even applied to something like whatever he had been—and the basilisk was both safe from threats and not presenting one. Everyone had survived, and surely now everyone would—so why was Chiara shaking like a bowtruckle in a storm?
"GINNY!" Came a scream, and the three kids turned to lock eyes with Mrs Weasley followed by Mr Weasley, their identity revealed by the woman's most red hair. The two of them flung themselves towards their daughter.
Chiara sat awkwardly, fiddling with the rings on her fingers as Mrs Weasley brought Ron and Harry into a hug that practically strangled the two boys.
Then came McGonagall, and the second she laid eyes on the head of blonde strands, the worry from the woman's face vanished.
"I'm so glad you're safe," McGonagall, much to her surprise, grabbed Chiara by the arms and brought her into a tight embrace, and then instantly pulled away with a strict face, "that was such an idiotic thing to do, going down there all by yourself."
"I just ended up there, dunno how," she answers, rather truthfully, although the matter was hard to explain. "Please, don't tell my mother."
"You forget I've taught your mother for seven years," McGonagall says with a sly smile, "she'd be rather proud about your rule-breaking notions. You're a magnet for trouble, Miss Chasseur, just like her."
"Oh, you have to tell me more about her mischief." Chiara gasped in excitement, eyes wide now.
The professor nods slowly, "Oh, yes, I'll tell you all about it when I can."
"Merlin, is that really you?" Mrs Weasley gapes, looking at Chiara and then locking eyes with McGonagall, "is that Everest's girl?"
