━━ chapter 55

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that was the last time you ever saw me


°• ♔ •°



Their home was becoming a frequent meeting place for the Death Eaters. 

Celeste's gaze from the long table never strayed each time. She had studied and memorized every pale streak and white vein of the empress green stone in the area in front of her seat. The opulent table always seemed to silently shiver; the cold surface of it whispered to her in warning. 

Quick, quick, run! or This is not a place for you! were little rustles and heedings that Celeste hallucinated. She liked to convince herself that they were treacherous mirages and phantoms. And surely not words of her own head.

"The Potters," The Dark Lord drawled, "have vanished. As have the Longbottoms."

Celeste couldn't hear the slow spread of murmurs over the wild terror in her body. Fear and hysteria roared through her ears.

"It is clear that Albus Dumbledore has used the Fidelius charm," he went on. His venomous voice dripped with annoyance and ire as he spat, "So the secret keeper must be found at once. The Potters will be dead before Christmas, do you all understand?"

"Yes, my lord," the members echoed lowly.

Voldemort rose, ready to adjourn the meeting. "The half-blood child," he warned. "It is mine to kill." 

As he scanned down the long table, his gaze stopped on Celeste. He smiled lightly as a great, whirling cloak of inky shadows wrapped around him, shooting his figure into the air. 

And then he was gone. 

Celeste finally raised her head. Her neck hurt from the position. Still, she stood and stepped around her chair to leave. There was a strange urge in her head that thought something was wrong. 

"Celeste," Evan started, reaching for her arm. 

She paused to look at him, remembering to maintain their appearances. She forced a smile for him. "Later," she said quietly. 

In order to not cause a scene, Evan let her go and turned to speak to the other members. Celeste gathered herself and left the hall. For some reason, her heart was hammering as she turned down the corridors and walked towards her chambers. 

Her intuition had never been that strong. Convinced that she was just being delusional, she pushed open the door to her bedroom.

Nothing in the world could've prepared her to see the Dark Lord standing in her bedroom, the second piece of the prophecy in his hands. He carelessly tossed them between his hands, as though it was nothing more than an apple. 

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