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...
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May 21st and 22nd, 1981
The world snapped apart.
Avery hit the ground hard—knees, palms, shoulder—her body folding into the cold stone of a front step she barely recognized through the ringing in her skull. The disapparation had torn at her injuries, leaving her vision swimming and her lungs clawing for air.
For a second, she could only lie there, face pressed to the stone, the night cool against her burning skin. She tried to push herself up, but her arms trembled violently and gave out. Blood dripped from her fingers onto the stone. She swallowed hard, the taste of smoke and copper thick in her throat. Behind her, in her memory, the green flash struck again. Her breath shuddered.
Her ribs ached with each gasp, but she raised her fist and tried knocking. The door didn't open. Avery tried again, her knuckles smearing blood on the wood. This time the knock carried.
Then the door cracked open by two inches. A wand aimed straight at her forehead.
"Ave?" Dorcas's voice wavered between suspicion and horror.
Avery tried to say her name back, or anything at all, but the words tangled on her tongue. She swayed.
Dorcas's eyes widened. She yanked the door open fully.
"Merlin—Avery, get inside. Now."
Avery couldn't move. When Dorcas reached for her, Avery flinched so violently she nearly toppled backward.
"Hey—hey," Dorcas said softly, hands raised. "It's me. You're safe."
Safe. The word finally cut through the ringing in her head.
Dorcas eased her inside and kicked the door shut behind them with a sharp thud.
"Who did this?" she asked, voice quiet and tight.
Avery's mouth trembled, "Riddle."
Dorcas froze. "Is he—are you being followed?"
Avery shook her head. "No. Father—he..."
Her throat closed. She forced a breath. "He held him off."
Dorcas didn't ask anything else.
She just wrapped an arm around Avery's back—carefully, gently—and guided her into the dim living room, where the shadows were warm and the lamps stayed dark for safety's sake.
Avery's vision blurred again. The last thing she saw before everything went weightless was Dorcas kneeling in front of her, hands pressed to her wounds, trying to stitch the worst with magic.
"You're not dying here," she whispered firmly.
Then Avery's eyes slipped shut and the world finally went dark.
✧˖°.☾
Darkness didn't lift all at once. It thinned slowly, like fog burned away by weak morning light.
