Veronica felt the sensation of falling, the world around her spinning faster and faster. The light was blinding, and her body felt weightless, as if it didn’t belong to her anymore. The void she had once been in faded into the distance, and she was falling through what seemed like an endless tunnel of light and colors.
Is this really happening?
Her mind swirled with disbelief, her body twisting as if she were being pulled in every direction. She didn’t know how long it lasted, but it felt like both an eternity and an instant.
And then, with a sudden jolt, she hit something soft, her body crumpling in on itself. She gasped for air, feeling her lungs fill with cool, fresh oxygen. But as she opened her eyes, she was met with an unfamiliar ceiling, one that wasn’t the sterile white of a hospital or the dim lighting of her old apartment.
She blinked, confusion flooding her mind as she slowly sat up.
What… where am I?
The room around her was small, cozy, but so... different. The walls were a pale shade of yellow, decorated with simple yet charming drawings. There was a small window letting in the sunlight, and she could hear birds chirping outside.
This doesn’t look like anything I’ve ever seen…
Her hand went to her chest, and she gasped again when she saw it. The small, delicate hands of a child stared back at her—hands that were far too small, far too soft to belong to the 18-year-old girl she had been just moments before.
She stood up too quickly, her head spinning as the world seemed to tilt. The floor was far too close. Her legs felt unsteady, and the mirror on the wall reflected an 8-year-old version of herself—a face she recognized, but not entirely.
Her heart pounded in her chest. I’m a child again... but this can’t be real.
A heavy breath caught in her throat as she staggered back, her mind racing. The memories, the thoughts, they weren’t all hers.
Why am I... why am I a kid? Her hands shook, and she tried to steady herself, but it felt like the world was spinning around her.
But then, it came. A flood of images—memories—crashed into her like waves. Faces, voices, moments. But they weren’t her moments. They belonged to someone else, someone who had lived a life before this one. A girl named Veronica.
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ᥒ᥆ᥕ (ᥲ𝖿𝗍ᥱr rᥱіᥒᥴᥲrᥒᥲ𝗍і᥆ᥒ, ȷᥙs𝗍 іmᥲgіᥒᥱ sһᥱ's 8)
She saw her parents, a warm and loving couple, much like the memories of her own parents, but different. They were vibrant and full of life, but there was an unsettling sense of foreboding. She saw herself, a child with brown hair and big eyes, running through a beautiful garden, playing with her parents. She saw the mansion she once lived in—a mansion that felt both foreign and familiar.
And then the memories shifted. She saw the war—flashes of violence, the chaos of battle that was far too close for comfort. But her parents didn’t fight. They were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. They had been drawn into the madness, caught in the crossfire of a conflict they didn’t choose to participate in. Their deaths were accidents, the result of a war they hadn’t asked to be a part of.
Veronica could feel the weight of their loss, a grief that wasn’t quite hers but felt as if it had always been. It gnawed at her chest, a hollow, aching void that couldn’t be filled.
Her knees buckled beneath her as the flood of memories overwhelmed her. She pressed her hands to her face, trying to make sense of it all.
This can’t be happening. This is not real.
But it was real. The memories were vivid, clear, like they had always been a part of her, even though they weren’t.
Tears welled in her eyes, but this time, they weren’t tears of grief for her old life. No, they were the tears of a child who had just woken up in a new world, one that didn’t make sense yet.
She wiped her eyes with the back of her tiny hand and took a deep breath. She felt small. Helpless. She wasn’t the person she used to be, and the realization of that sent a shiver down her spine. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.
Her mind raced. Am I... in the world I was promised? The Harry Potter universe?
Her heart stuttered in her chest as the weight of it all sank in.
I’m alive... but am I really living the life I thought I’d have?
The little girl in the mirror stared back at her, her wide eyes uncertain, filled with the same confusion that Veronica felt deep inside. She stood up straighter, forcing herself to look at the reflection, taking a moment to center herself.
Okay. Calm down. Take it one step at a time. I’m still me... even if I’m not the same me anymore. I just... need to figure this out.
Veronica closed her eyes for a moment, focusing on the swirling, conflicting emotions inside her. The shock. The loss. The confusion. She had to let go of what she had been.
And now, she had to live as this girl—this version of Veronica Kyra Le Fay.
This is my second chance. I’m going to make the most of it.
The faintest smile tugged at her lips. It was a small step forward, but it was enough. For now.
