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💔
Alina's eyes narrow as she scans the shelf in front of her. It is November 5th.
She is quite glad she doesn't have to go home for the holiday break. She only hopes they won't send a letter demanding her return.
Pushing those thoughts aside, Alina focuses on the task at hand. She is in the library, searching for books on complex potions. She feels quite... bored, and the only thing that seems worth her time is learning something new.
Alina selects a few books from the shelves and begins flicking through one as she slowly makes her way to the counter to check them out.
She pauses mid-step when she notices someone sitting at a nearby table.
It is Peter Pettigrew.
He has a multitude of books spread out in front of him—potions books, she is pretty sure. He seems to be working on their potions essay, but he is struggling. He mutters to himself, flipping between pages and scribbling furiously.
Curious, Alina walks closer until she stands beside his chair, her eyes narrowing as she reads over his essay.
"It's moonstone," she says suddenly.
Peter flinches so violently that he almost falls out of his chair. His head snaps up to look at her. "Merlin, you scared me!"
A ghost of a smirk appears on her lips. She repeats, "It's moonstone," and points to the last sentence of his essay.
Peter looks back at his essay, rereading the last sentence. "Thank you... Alina."
She simply nods before turning and continuing her way to the counter.
~~~
The fire is hot, and it is coming for her.
Another fucking vision.
The flames are bright and all-consuming. Alina can feel the searing heat against her skin, the wall pressing into her back as she tries to escape. But there is no escaping this vision.
She gasps, bolting upright in her bed, her breaths heavy and ragged as she tries to calm her racing heart. The sweat on her brow feels cold against the chill of the dungeons, a stark contrast to the inferno she has just witnessed.
Alina places a trembling hand over her chest, feeling the frantic beat of her heart through her silk pajamas. She lets her hand fall, digging her nails into her palm, trying to ground herself.
It is fine.
She is fine.
By now, Alina thinks she should be used to this. Yet she isn't. The aftermath of a vision always leaves her with an empty, longing feeling that settles deep within her.
