There once was a girl.
She was sweet like a baby.
But you fucked her up.
Made her think she was crazy.
I'm that girl.
But I look different lately.
Cos now I'm a monster.
The monster you made me.
- Chloe Adams.
Magical Luck has changed, Magical Luck...
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Let the wind carry us To the clouds, hurry up, alright We can travel so far As our eyes can see We go where no one goes We slow for no one Get out of our way
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At long last, the day had arrived. Rosalie was nervous, but she was ready—ready to face the first task head on. Tom had spent countless hours helping her practise her Parseltongue, ensuring she could perfect it so the nesting dragon would truly hear and understand her. As the crowds outside the tent roared with excitement, people were taking bets on the outcome, their voices a constant buzz in the background. Rosalie was pacing nervously, her hands trembling and her heart pounding so loudly she wondered if the dragon might hear it too. Each step felt heavy, her thoughts swirling—how would the dragon react to her words? Would she remember everything Tom had taught her? Tom stood just on the other side of the tent door, whispering words of encouragement through the canvas, his steady voice a lifeline pulling her back from the edge of panic. Their connection anchored her, reminding her that she wasn't alone, even as the world outside waited breathlessly for the spectacle to begin.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice soft but steady as she stood in front of the tent door. The distant roar of the crowd and the rustle of canvas seemed to close in around her.
"I'm okay," she whispered, her words quivering like her hands at her sides.
"Okay?" Tom leaned in, concern etched on his features. "The key is to concentrate," he murmured, brushing a reassuring hand across her back. "After that, you just have to—"
"Battle a dragon," she finished, voice dipping lower as nerves tightened her chest. Tom entered the tent; his gaze filled with gentle determination and pulled her into a firm embrace. The warmth of his arms steadied her, grounding her against the swirling anticipation.
