❝ STEPPING, I'M STOMPING, I'M ALL GONE. ❞ ☓ 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭
this book has been fully re-edited and its original name being "his destructive little wildfire" but as it was created in 2021 and was hor...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
vii. do you like chocolate?
DELEINE WAS MORE THAN BAFFLED IF SHE WERE BEING HONEST, "Weasley's girl"? The trouble was, the Gryffindors had started to call her 'Weasley's girl', and worse still, they were starting to notice her at all. Truth be told, she neither hated them nor particularly liked them. Not to mention, recently, her and George were very visibly avoiding each other.
But at that moment in time, it wasn't George avoiding her; it was she who was avoiding him. She didn't quite know how to feel about the situation—or about him. They were getting along rather well, despite being complete opposites, but every time anyone mentioned anything relationship-related, they'd both instinctively back off. You'd think it would just be her, but there George was. Flaking. Again.
The boy strolled right past her in the corridor, barely giving her a glance, while she stood next to Cassia. He didn't even acknowledge Cassia's presence.
"This has got to stop," Cassia said, watching the ginger walk down the hall with two of his mates. Deleine sighed and shrugged nonchalantly. "No—don't give me that. This isn't something you don't give a toss about. You can't look me in the face and tell me you don't care," Cassia insisted, her eyes narrowing with determination.
"It's not that big of a deal, Cass. He's probably just nervous—totally understandable. It's a lot to handle," Deleine responded calmly, trying to brush off Cassia's concern.
Cassia eyed her friend warily, "What?" she asked.
"I'm being serious. It's understandable." Deleine shrugged.
"So you're not losing your marbles over the silent treatment? I heard when you chat with someone nearly every day and it becomes the norm, if they stop talking, you lose the plot—it's like your sleep schedule, mess that up and you're knackered all day," Cassia ranted. "Not yawning yet, are you?" She asked, raising her eyebrows.
Deleine rolled her eyes and began to walk off, Cassia quickly following. She carried herself with such a cool, calm, and collected air—it was like nothing ever got to her. She was perfectly fine throughout the day. But when midnight rolled around, and Severus caught her in one of those rare, piercing stares, asking if something was wrong or if she was alright, it was a different story. Suddenly, she'd have nothing to say, her blank stare and a slight nod were her only responses.
He was like a father to her, though, and parents always knew when something was off. Severus wasn't fooled; he could tell she was lying. And like any father, he kept a close eye on her and everyone around her. It wasn't obvious at first, but by midweek, the signs were there. Deleine sat at the table, smiling after sharing a laugh with her friends. But the smile didn't last long; soon enough, she was staring into the void, her thoughts drifting far away. She was starting to disassociate.
