Next time you won't be so lucky

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Saffron woke up in the morning to find a knife pinned to her bedside table. Startled, she bolted upright, and as she examined the specimen, more out of curiosity than fear, she noticed there was a note underneath the blade. It read:

Next time you won't be so lucky.


Tears of shock flooded her eyes. Tomorrow, she could be... dead. Her parents weren't actually her parents. She was the granddaughter of Voldemort. She was in great danger, and probably right now people would be tracking her down. 

She let out a scream. She picked up her lamp and threw it carelessly at the wall. She fell back onto her bed and sobbed into the pillow.


Who knew taking the Hogwarts express on your own back to King's Cross would be so lonely. The headteacher and the professors had agreed that staying at Hogwarts would not be safe for Saffron any more. For now she would go home, keep a low profile, and stay in the house as much as possible. 

But Saffron knew this wouldn't help. She knew eventually they would find her; who 'they' was, she didn't know.

But she could feel it; this chill in the air. 


And she knew one thing; it was going to be a long Christmas.


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