Flames Of Destiny // HJP [1]

Chapter Thirteen : An Awful Feeling ⛈

「 ✦ 13 ✦ 」

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

⋆˚࿔ (Y/N) 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

(𝖄/ᥒ) was very young when she learned that she had cancer—an especially deadly kind, where only a few ever survive. From that moment on, everything changed. Her hopes for a carefree childhood, full of laughter and play, had been cruelly snatched away.

Her school days? They never came. She never set foot in a classroom again.

The rest of her life in the real world was spent in the same lonely hospital room, surrounded by sterile white walls. Her days followed a routine as monotonous as it was heartbreaking: watching TV, reading books and comics, drawing, crocheting, knitting, sewing. The taste of bland, healthy hospital food became all too familiar, as did the cold touch of the window glass when she gazed outside, wondering when—if ever—her hair would grow back. The chemotherapy sessions came and went like clockwork, and with them came hope, pain, and exhaustion, all in equal measure.

That was her world. That was all she knew.

Eventually, (Y/n) came to terms with it, as much as anyone could. This was her life now, she thought. There would be no high school, no close friends, no petty crushes, no piles of homework to stress over, no frustrating teachers to gossip about behind their backs. She had accepted that she'd never feel the thrill of a new romance or the heartache of young love, nor would she experience the overwhelming exhaustion of trying to juggle it all.

Then, she died.

But death wasn't the end. It was just the beginning.

When (Y/n) woke up in this strange, magical world, everything was different. She now lived the life she had only dreamed of while lying in her hospital bed. She attended classes, met new people, and experienced the overwhelming chaos of a school life she had thought was forever out of reach. At times, she questioned whether this was a second chance or some kind of curse. It was hard to tell.

Most of the time, she was grateful. But sometimes, late at night, when the castle was silent and her thoughts ran wild, she wasn't sure. She had memories of her past life—memories of her parents, left heartbroken by her death. Memories of a world she had left behind. And then there was the strangest part of all: she knew that this life wasn't her own. She was inside a story—a book, to be exact—living a life that didn't belong to her.

Despite it all, she had to admit, moments like this made it easier to forget.

When Professor McGonagall announced that a Yule Ball was to be held on Christmas Day, (Y/n) couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement. A traditional event tied to the Triwizard Tournament, it was the closest thing to the prom she'd never had in the real world. She had once dreamed of dressing up for such an event, and now it was going to happen.

Her heart danced at the thought of it.

She didn't want to feel selfish, especially knowing what she had left behind. But she couldn't control the thrill that ran through her at the idea of finally experiencing something she had longed for.

In the weeks leading up to the ball, Hogwarts was abuzz with excitement. Hermione had told her that this was the first time so many students had stayed for Christmas since they had started at the school. Every fourth year and above seemed to be staying, and all anyone could talk about was the ball. The girls, especially, were caught up in a frenzy of giggling and whispering in the corridors, excitedly comparing notes on what they would wear on the big night. (Y/n) wasn't immune to the excitement either, though she tried to keep her giddiness under wraps when she was around Harry, Ron, and Hermione.