The Girl Who Begged To See | HP

The voices never stopped.

They whispered in the cracks of her mind, in the hollow space where her family used to be. Some murmured secrets, others only laughed. A few screamed.

Morgana Bellrose sat in the corner of her cell, fingers pressed to the cold stone floor. The walls of St. Mungo's had held her for seven years, wrapped in layers of enchantments designed to suppress her magic, to keep the curse at bay. But it never left. It only waited.

Tonight, the air was different.

The torches flickered. A shadow passed beneath the door.

And then, the lock clicked open.

She didn't move as the door creaked, revealing the figure standing in the dim corridor beyond. A man cloaked in black, silver fingers gleaming in the torchlight. He stepped forward, silent, patient.

"Morganna Bellrose," he murmured. "It's time."

She said nothing.

He knelt before her, watching. Waiting. And when he finally spoke again, his voice was soft, almost reverent.

"The Dark Lord has not forgotten you."

A shiver ghosted down her spine.

The lights flickered again, then died completely.

And in the darkness, she rose to her feet.