❝ 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...
"well, maybe we shouldn't be together then. maybe I don't need a boyfriend."
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xvi. insomnia
DELEINE PACED RESTLESSLY AROUND DUMBLEDORE'S OFFICE, the flicker of candlelight casting long shadows against the ancient stone walls. Her footsteps echoed in the room, her thoughts racing as she gnawed at her bottom lip, clearly on edge. Both Dumbledore and Severus Snape watched her in silence, their expressions unreadable. The soft ticking of an enchanted clock was the only sound beyond her hurried movements.
"Miss Chang," Dumbledore spoke calmly, his voice as soothing as ever, though there was a hint of concern woven into his words. "You've been pacing for quite some time now."
Deleine halted mid-step, arms crossed tightly over her chest as if trying to cage in the whirlwind of emotions that threatened to spill over. "Don't call me that," she snapped, her tone sharp enough to cut the tension. "You two have been hiding everything from me," she continued, her eyes burning with a mixture of anger and confusion.
She held up the necklace, the dim light reflecting off the polished surface. "Why do I keep getting these vivid dreams? Why didn't you just tell me my mother was an Ashbourne? And why in Merlin's name is she connected to Sirius Black?" Her words came out in one rushed breath, each question biting at the men before her.
"Deleine, we've discussed this—" Snape began, his voice low and measured.
"We didn't discuss anything," Deleine interrupted, her voice laced with cold sarcasm. "I asked, and you shut me down. That's not a discussion, that's you being a right prat."
Severus's eyes narrowed at her tone. "You're too young—too emotionally fragile—to handle the full truth at this point. You can't control yourself properly yet."
Deleine let out a hollow scoff, shaking her head. "I already know more than you think, and I'll find out the rest on my own—whether you like it or not."
Snape's jaw clenched, but before he could retort, Dumbledore finally spoke, his voice as soft as the flutter of a phoenix feather. "Perhaps, Miss Chang, it would be wise to remain in your dormitory for the final task. You are not in the best state of mind."
Deleine's eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you joking?" she snapped, her frustration bubbling over. "You want me to stay locked away because you reckon I can't handle it?"
"Deleine," Snape's voice was more clipped now, his patience thinning. "You couldn't even cope with Cedric Diggory joining the tournament. You're not ready for what's to come. A break would do you good—clear your mind."
