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chapter twelve: hogwarts is my home.
word count: 9.3k
uh so hi. longest chapter i ever wrote. has
like one spencer reid quote, see if you can find it.
enjoy! last chapter for the rest of the month
bc i've got midterms coming up </3
warnings: mentions of death, fire, bruises.
very, very vague allure to azalea having a flashback
about r4pe. lmk if i missed anything!
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THE PASSAGE REMINDED THEM OF GRINGOTTS.
Azalea's heart gave a lurch — she could remember reading that dragons guarded the vaults of Gringotts. And if they were to fight a dragon. . .an actual fully-grown dragon. . .Norbert had been bad enough. . .
She shook her head, smoothened her crumpling Bob Marley t-shirt, and walked ahead. The passageway sloped downwards. There was something akin to an entrance ahead of them, one made roughly and with no precision whatsoever, the stone arch completely crooked. Clinking and the occasional rustling of feathers broke through the silence.
"Is there a ghost?" Azalea tilted her head, stopping just a few centimeters short of the arch.
"Yes, because ghosts need wings to fly. Because that sounds like wings to me, Lea."
"It was a wild guess." Azalea rolled her eyes. Castor hadn't allowed her to have too much of coffee, only half a cup. And that made her grumpy. "Wings? So Dumbledore or Snape or whatever retarded brain walked through here left fucking birds down here to peck our faces off?"
"Why must all your thoughts be so gory, Azzie?" Hermione raised her eyebrows, half concerned half amused. "Besides, there's light coming from in there."
"Light coming from a random dark place almost always resembles walking to your death."
"Then let's walk to our death, dammit." Ron stomped ahead, surprising everyone with his burst of courage. Azalea and Hermione followed, Castor in toll.
Their attention was caught by the fluttering golden mass in the corner of the ceiling, opposite to where they stood.
"You think they'll attack us if we run across the room?" Ron frowned.
"I wouldn't blame them for attacking Cas, I'm tempted too." Azzie shrugged.
"Hey!"
"But they might, yeah."
"They don't look too vicious, but if they all swooped down at once. . ." Castor pretended to shudder.
"Wanna try it out?" Azalea looked at him.
"3, 2, 1, go!"
"Hey it's not a race!"
"'Course it is, Lea."
They reached the end of the passage, Azalea blaming Castor's taller stature for his win, clutching at her chest, shallow breaths puffing out of her reddening cheeks.
Nothing. No random, impromptu attacks by flying objects. Ron and Hermione made their way over to them, walking instead of running like maniacs, as they did, gazing at the fluttering golden trinkets in question.
Hermione clutched the handle of the door. It was too easy, there was no way it would open just like that, would it?
She was right. She tried again, the knob still stubborn. They tugged and they heaved and they tried charms, but nothing worked.
Azalea gave up. She was quite good at that, she noticed. Exasperated, she let her gaze wander around the room.
There is no mystery that has no solution. Mr. Godfrey, the music teacher at her school back in Surrey, had coined it more or less as his tagline. Everytime she got a puzzle wrong, when she was stuck on a math problem and he was looking after her at the Dursleys request, that's what he reminded her.
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CRIMSON CURSES , the wizarding world
FanfictionHE WAS THE sun, she was the moon. He burned people, she gave light in the darkness. He was candescent, she was hidden. Beautifully tragic, two souls combined in a flurry of love, destruction, ashes, and magic. marked mature because it gets dark late...
