❝ 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...
"It binds the memories of the giver from the last generation."
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xv. sirius
THE FINAL TASK WAS ONLY TWO DAYS AWAY, and the tension in the air was almost unbearable. Deleine couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. Ever since she'd received the necklace, an uneasy weight had settled over her, and no matter how much she tried to brush it off, it lingered like a shadow.
She was happy, of course—George was brilliant, everything with him was better than she could've hoped for. But there was this constant itch at the back of her mind, a nagging feeling that made her restless. It wasn't the usual nerves about the Triwizard Tournament; this was something deeper, something that chilled her even in moments of warmth.
She'd tried speaking with Severus about it, hoping for some kind of reassurance. But he, as always, had been frustratingly dismissive.
"It's nothing, Deleine," he had said with a wave of his hand, barely looking up from whatever potion he was working on. "You're letting your nerves get the better of you. Don't focus on trifles."
She wanted to believe him, truly. But the feeling gnawed at her, making her doubt. She wasn't one to get worked up over 'nothing,' and the way Severus had brushed it off only made her feel more unsettled. She had hoped for more, a proper answer, or at least something to help quiet her mind. Instead, she left his office feeling even more uncertain than before.
Maybe he was right. Maybe it was just nerves. After all, everyone was on edge with the final task approaching, and it wasn't as though she could just ignore the fact that Cedric would be out there, facing Merlin knows what dangers. Still, as much as she tried to convince herself it was just that, the ominous feeling clung to her like mist on a cold morning.
Instead of brushing off the unsettling feeling, Deleine decided to head to the library, slipping away quietly without offering much explanation to her friends. As she made her way through the dimly lit corridors, the quiet hum of her footsteps was interrupted by a sudden, rough bump. It sent her nearly stumbling backward, and she found herself face-to-face with Mad-Eye Moody.
"Black," he muttered, giving her a curt nod before attempting to walk off like he always did. He had a habit of doing that, acknowledging her with the wrong name, then disappearing before she could get a word in. It was infuriating, and this time, she'd had enough.
"Chang," she corrected sharply, her voice clear but calm for the first time. Moody paused, his scarred face twisting as he slowly turned to face her again. His magical eye swiveled, unnervingly fixing on her.
"I'm Deleine Chang," she said, her tone casual but pointed. "I think you've been mistaking me for Indigo Black."
There was a brief silence as Moody's gaze drifted down toward the necklace hanging from her neck, his expression unreadable.
