Being a Greengrass after all should sound pretty serene.
But being a part of "the Emeralds" should not, especially when hearts become entangled with the infamous Regulus Black.
Goodness, lawfulness, or evilness. Which path will they tread in the ti...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
December 27th, 1978
Avery and Regulus arrived in a crack that shattered the silence of the cliffside.
The cold wind greeted them first — a sharp, shrieking thing that pulled at their coats and hair like a creature desperate to warn them away. Avery landed on uneven rock, her boots skidding slightly before she steadied herself. Regulus appeared beside her, already pale under the washed-out sky. A few feet away, Kreacher popped into existence with a soft grunt, his hunched form trembling faintly in the bitter wind.
The sea stretched before them — dark as spilled ink, roiling and endless. Clouds pressed low against the horizon, dragging long, bruised shadows across the water. The cliff was jagged and sharp, its edges worn by centuries of violence. Somewhere far below, waves slammed against the stone with a sound like bones cracking.
Kreacher crept forward, ears flattened against the cold. "Master Regulus," he croaks. "This is the place. Kreacher remembers."
"Good," Regulus says hoarsely. "We do this quickly."
Avery nodded. She reached into her enchanted satchel, ticking off the items one last time. "Water, potions, enchanted rope, spare wand, fire conjuration runes, floating lanterns, anti-Inferi measures..." She paused, pulled out a tiny sealed jar. "Salt. Just in case."
Regulus gave her a look — a mixture of disbelief and admiration. "You brought salt?"
"Salt is purifying," she shrugs, eyes fixed on the cave. "Old magic sometimes respects old rules. You never know what he layered this place with."
He didn't argue.
Regulus reached out without a word, and Avery clasped his arm. Kreacher clung to Regulus's other side, his gnarled fingers shaking slightly. With a sharp crack, the cliffside vanished. They reappeared in near-total darkness.
The air was immediately different — thicker, staler, heavy with the scent of salt and something fouler beneath. The cave walls rose around them in jagged, glistening silhouettes, wet with condensation. A faint green phosphorescence pulsed from the stone like the heartbeat of something ancient and slow.
Avery drew her wand. "Lumos."
The light was swallowed almost greedily, barely illuminating a few feet ahead. Beside her, Regulus did the same, and the cave walls flared briefly in twin glows — revealing centuries of erosion and mineral buildup that coated the stone in dark, scabbed veins.
Kreacher was the first to move, inching forward until he came to a dead halt in front of a smooth, seamless wall. Unlike the rest of the cave, this surface was pristine — unnaturally so. No cracks, no mold, no signs of erosion. Just cold, unyielding stone that radiated quiet menace.
Avery stepped forward and examined the wall closely. There was something off about it — something subtle. Magic swirled just beneath the surface like a dormant current, sensing them. Testing.
