Alina Nightshade doesn't think much about James Potter. Only that he seems rather keen on being annoying.
James Potter thinks Alina Nightshade is a mystery all wrapped up in a very pretty girl. And he is keen on trying to be her friend.
James Potte...
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Make sure you're on the right chapter!! I think wattpad glitched again💔
"Please help!"A young girl sprints through the forest, dodging fallen trees and scorched ground.
Alina can't move.
Can only watch.
"Please," the girl screams, her voice echoing through the woods as she flees from an unseen terror.
The girl stumbles into a village. "Help–" Her plea is abruptly cut off.
"Avada Kedavra!" A cruel laugh follows the curse.
The girl freezes, her expression locked in terror before she crumples to the ground.
Dead.
A large group of Death Eaters, their silver masks gleaming in the rising sun, moves in. Alina can only watch as they set the village ablaze, mercilessly killing the Muggles, even the children.
Only watch as the Muggles scream for mercy, begging for someone to help.
A gasp escapes Alina's lips as she shoots up in bed.
Her heart races, her breathing heavy. Despite years of these visions, her body still reacts as though she is dying.
As though she can't breathe.
Alina clenches her eyes shut. It's fine. She's used to such violence, such terror. Her first visions were of death and destruction.
It's fine.
She allows herself a few minutes to calm her racing heart until it settles back into its normal rhythm.
A chill wraps around her arms. Merlin, why do the dungeons have to be so cold?
Alina unclenches her hands and gets out of bed, glancing at the clock.
Early.
Too early.
Still, she gets ready for the day, donning her uniform and placing a black headband in her light colored hair before slipping on her shoes, grabbing her bag, and leaving.
The common room is empty and rather cold.
She continues on, making her way outside the common room and down the halls.
Maybe she can go outside, take a walk.
Alina knows that attacks like the one she just saw can't be stopped, which is why she never tells Dumbledore about them. At least she is the only one burdened by these visions; no one else has to see them.
She traces the scars on her hands, finding comfort in the sensation. It reminds her that she is real, this is real, and it isn't some vision.
As Alina turns a corner, she quickly stops at the sight of Peter Pettigrew pacing up and down the hall. He turns to begin pacing her way but freezes when he sees her.
