❛ 𝗪𝗘'𝗟𝗟 𝗕𝗘 𝗔 𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗘 𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘 ❜
❪ ·˚ ༘ °˖✧˚ * ೃ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ ˚₊༉ ❫
in which mavis black was known all around hogwarts, but mostly for her name. after losing both her parents on one fateful night, she has many questions about who she is and i...
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FINE LINE - PATRONUSES
Mavis stood in the shrouded mist of a field, a small outline of a church was just visible if she squinted. Shadows loomed all around and unfamiliar whispers echoed from far away. A sense of dread crept through Mavis as the ground felt unstable beneath her feet.
Shapes darted in her peripheral vision, blurring the lines of reality. The air was thick, suffocating, filled with an acrid scent that heightened Mavis' anxiety. Every step she took felt as though she was walking through water, struggling to break free.
A cold draft brushed across her face, sending shivers down Mavis' spine. In the distance, an endless labyrinth of distorted images and eerie sounds lead Mavis into deeper confusion and fear. Vague silhouettes shifted and swirled, their forms indistinct.
The moonlight shining through the branches of trees created erratic shadows that twisted and stretched like dark fingers reaching for Mavis. A chilling silence prevailed, punctuated only by the sound of Mavis' own rapid heartbeat, each thud echoing loud in her ears, drowning out any rational thoughts. The deeper she explored, the more pronounced the sense of being watched became - a prickling sensation dancing across the back of her neck.
As Mavis turned a corner, the temperature dropped sharply, biting into her skin like shards of ice. The whispering voices grow louder, unintelligible yet haunting, swirling around Mavis like an insistent storm, fueling her disorientation.
Desperation filled Mavis' chest as she tried to remember why she was here and where 'here' even was, but it all slipped away like sand through her fingers. The sensation of being utterly lost intensified, ensnaring her in a nightmarish loop she couldn't escape. Until she heard it. A voice. One so familiar.
'Get back to the cup!' it was Harry's voice. His words cut through the silence in a far off whisper.
A sense of dread enveloped Mavis - she knew where she was. She was back in the graveyard. Looking down at her body, she was wearing the same exact clothes to the ones she wore during the third task.
Gulping back her fear, Mavis took a cautious step towards Harry's voice, the earth shifted beneath her feet, threatening to trip her into the grave's embrace. An inexplicable dread tightened around her chest, urging her to flee, yet something compelled her to stay.
With each step she took, Mavis felt the cold seeping into her bones, chilling her as she went. After rounding Tom Riddle's grave, Mavis came to a sudden stop. From the deep shadows, Mavis caught a glimpse of someone who wasn't Harry or Voldemort but still so familiar.
"You could've saved me," they said, their back to Mavis as they circled the cauldron in the centre.
As they rounded and faced Mavis, the young Black stepped back in shock, her body being swept up by the grave behind her, trapping her just like it had to Harry. Cedric stood, his skin once youthful now pallid, almost translucent, reflecting a ghostly hue in the fractured light. His eyes were hollow, dark and sunken, his gaze was unfocused yet strangely aware.
