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The Grind (And Helping Heather Potter) Ch.6
🕑 Added 2023-07-27 01:59:07 +0000 UTC“I see you live up to your name, Atlas,” Heather’s eyes were practically twinkling like Dumbledore’s did but her mischievous grin would’ve looked more at home on a fox. “Ya know, holding up her whole world like that~”
Perched firmly in my lap, Hermione blushed at her friend’s teasing. That didn’t stop her from subtly grinding against me some more though.
Once the snitch had been caught, the game ended and the rest of our group didn’t have something to so readily distract them from what me and Hermione were doing. Heather seemed to take it in stride, noticing the book in my hands and piecing together the rest. Padfoot gave a woof of approval that sounded almost proud…
The older Weasleys didn’t seem to think it was any of their business, which I was glad for. The twins and their younger sister took our position just as well as Heather did, though they did look like they’d give Hermione a good-natured ribbing about it later. Ron, however, had turned so red that I thought steam was going to pour out of his ears. Thankfully, the twins saw this and took him aside so he was easy enough to ignore.
“Hermione,” I gently prompted, whispering in her ear and accidentally making her shudder in my lap. “I think it’s time for us to get up.”
With a shaky nod, Hermione did just that, leaving me feeling surprisingly empty from the lack of contact. I got up as well, thankful and regretful in equal measure that my focus on the Grind kept me from lingering too much on the feeling of a beautiful girl against me. At least I wasn’t about to tear a hole in my pants from excitement.
“What a game!” With Hermione and I separated, Heather moved on to seemingly more important topics. Though, her teasing gaze still drifted between me and Hermione as she spoke.
“Yeah! Did you see the teamwork from the Irish chasers?” The youngest redhead — I still needed to learn her name — agreed.
“I was more focused on the battle between the seekers!” Heather replied.
That’s when I tuned them out. As much as I was starting to like Heather, Quidditch would never be my favorite thing about the Wizarding World. I did notice that Hermione seemed to be unconsciously gravitating toward me before I directed my gaze to the rest of the Box.
The moment I did that, though, I caught the eye of the Malfoy Matriach. She was staring at me intently as if she was trying to decipher whatever secrets I held. I almost snorted. Good luck with that, lady. I don’t even know my own secrets and I’m pretty sure you know more than me.
I glanced away from her dismissively, hoping to piss off the Pure-Blood mother just a bit more than I already had. Her husband was doing what he seemed to do best: sucking up to the Minister. And her son, Draco, was eyeing me with a look of open hatred. I flashed him a smile to piss him off even more as well.
Movement near the Minister distracted me from my new favorite hobby of pissing off Pure-Bloods. For a moment, I could have sworn I saw Fudge’s wand float out of the pocket of his robes. It almost looked as if an invisible hand was grabbing it but it disappeared too quickly for me to tell more. Also, the House Elf I’d noticed before the game seemed to have disappeared… How odd…
Pushing it out of my mind, I turned back to our group and interrupted Heather’s conversation, “Welp, games over. We should probably be getting ourselves home.”
“Aw, c’mon,” Heather whined half-jokingly. “It’s only like 4 o’clock. The party’s barely started! Don’t you wanna stay and get to know us better~?”
“Wait, get to know you better? I thought he was your boyfriend?!” No one bothered to dignify Ron’s idiotic question with a response.
I was on the fence, honestly wanting to get out of there so I could complete my quest and Grind some more. The hopeful look on Hermione’s face was what eventually swayed me, “Fine… Did your Godfather provide you with a tent or something?”
Padfoot barked as if that was a reply I could understand. Heather ‘translated’, “Yeah, it’s a nice one too. Expanded inside, plumbing, climate control, and everything.”
I’ll be honest, the mention of the tent’s capabilities piqued my interest, “I’ve always been curious about how they enchant a tent to do all that. I guess I could try to figure it out while you girls party.”
“Or… you could party with us!” Heather suggested. “C’mon, is studying all you think about?”
“Yes…?” I half-said, half-asked.
Heather giggled, “You’re worse than Hermione. Even she knows how to have fun now and then. I guess I’ll just have to teach you to unwind as I did for her~”
“Why do I have a feeling I’m in danger now…?” I asked no one.
“Because you’re smart,” Hermione deadpanned.
Padfoot barked a bark that sounded suspiciously like a Human laugh. Heather just pouted, “I’m not that bad, guys. Only, like, half of my ideas end with a life-or-death situation… Maybe like three-quarters at most…”
At this point, our group started streaming out of the Top Box. The girls continued their back-and-forth conversation, with Hermione playing the straight man to Heather’s teasing. I stayed mostly silent, occasionally adding something when addressed but content to simply observe. Padfoot had seemingly taken a liking to me, sticking to my side and reminding me of my own familiar, Shadow.
We followed the Weasleys down and out of the stadium and back to the campgrounds. By no means were we the first to arrive back there though. Celebrations were already in full swing. Wizards and Witches raved and reveled, making merry in the aftermath of what seemed to have been a close game. It seemed Heather wasn’t the only one who wasn’t ready to call it a day.
I could see how Dumbledore thought this was the event of the summer. It seemed like the whole of Wizarding Britain was here. I saw classmates from my year but didn’t approach them for obvious reasons. I’d never been close to any of them and I was currently preoccupied with the task Dumbledore assigned me.
Music and the sounds of revelry filled the campsite, some instruments played manually and some animated by magic. Butterbeer and Fire Whiskey flowed freely. Like a repeat of the scene before the game, magic was used openly and Obliviators worked overtime to suppress the minority of Muggle families at the campsite.
I thought I was the only one who noticed that aspect of the celebrations but to be fair to them, Heather and Hermione seemed uncomfortable with it as well. That’s when Heather had a great idea. Seemingly inspired by a glance at her dog, Heather suggested we pull a prank…
“C’mon, It’ll be fun,” She implored, trying to corrupt me to the prank side of the Force.
It was effective, mostly because I didn’t need much convincing to pull a prank on behalf of the Muggles.
The prank started out small, with me sending discreet color-changing spells at the Obliviators as they worked. It grew as we traversed the campsite but I kept my spellwork relatively harmless and solely directed at the Wizards who were blatantly disregarding the Statute of Secrecy.
A bit of Transfiguration here and there to give some offenders innocently exaggerated animal parts. A Slippery Jinx on a bottle of Fire Whiskey or two. A conjured ice cube or three that I levitated down a Witch’s robes. The worst I did was cast Petrificus Totalus on the Wizards I saw directly targetting the Muggles. I left them frozen for the Aurors to find, not that they would do anything to punish them. It was mostly for the inconvenience.
Most of my charms and jinxes were taken in good fun. The Wizards laughed off their new rabbit ears or elephant’s trunk and simply undid my Transfiguration after a bit of effort. The ice cube trick received a squeal of surprise but not much more. The petrified Muggle-baiters couldn’t react for obvious reasons. The worst reaction I got was from the Slippery Jinx. It resulted in a broken bottle and I quickly decided it was best for us to vacate the area before drunken annoyance was directed our way.
Heather was practically cackling as we walked through the campgrounds, pranking Wizards and Witches and just generally increasing the chaos. Padfoot was leaning against my side, panting in a way that genuinely felt as if he was a Human laughing… Somehow. Even Hermione got in on the fun, suggesting spells and jinxes for me to try.
The older Weasleys returned to their tent a while ago but the younger half of the family stuck with us. God knows why the Weasley parents trusted me with their most troublesome children. Maybe they thought I was responsible enough to keep them in line because Dumbledore vouched for me. Or maybe they just wanted some time to themselves. I certainly would if the twins were my kids.
It immediately backfired, though, because the twins quickly goaded Ron into casting a spell (as a test, one of them whispered to me). When no consequences presented themselves for Ron’s usage of underage magic, the twins joined in on our campsite pranking spree.
Thanks to Ron’s bold ’sacrifice’, we quickly came to the realization that there was too much magic in the air for the Trace to effectively track underage spellcasters. Heather and the youngest Weasley (Ginny! I finally learned her name!) eagerly joined me and the twins as well. Even Hermione was drafted into the fun for a jinx or two.
I might’ve protested but I only signed up to watch Heather and Hermione. So long as the twins didn’t bring too much trouble onto us, they were free to do what they wanted. And honestly, I was too impressed with the innovative way they applied spells to pranks to truly censure them.
The sun was well into the process of setting when we reached the tent Heather’s Godfather had provided for her. We’d taken a circuitous route back, taking our time to see and prank the rest of the campsite. If we’d taken a direct route, it would’ve taken maybe half as long as it did, but none of us regretted the extra time wasted.
The campsite lit up with the coming darkness. People crowded around campfires or underneath the light of charmed Bluebell flames. The campsite looked like even more of a wonderland at night, like some twisted Wizarding idea of a circus with flamboyant fabric tents that rose multiple stories above the rest and enough colorful lights to make the mist of the moor glow.
Heather’s tent was nothing special to look at compared to those around it. It was circular and came to a point at the tip, forming a cone. The fabric of the tent was made from some sort of hide and the whole thing looked handcrafted with a level of care that astounded me.
“It’s an authentic Sioux Tepee,” Heather informed me when I asked. “That what Sir-… er, My Godfather said anyway.”
“Fascinating…” I said, admiring the tent.
Padfoot barked proudly. I continued inspecting the tent as the Weasleys with us began to set up a campfire in front of it. It really was a masterwork of craftsmanship and charmwork. To the point that I couldn’t even begin to decipher all of the enchantments on the temporary structure. I could sense the enlarging charms and the charms that controlled the tent’s temperature. Almost all of the other enchantments on the structure were too complex for me to easily decipher at first touch.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, Hermione accompanied me as I walked around the tent and examined it, trailing along behind me almost like a little duckling. She watched me do my thing for a while, trying to figure out what that thing was. Eventually, Hermione’s curiosity won out over her ability to stay silent. I had a feeling that that happened often.
“What are you doing?” She asked.
“Trying to figure out how this tepee was made,” I answered.
“How?” Hermione blurted out somewhat rudely, curiosity overcoming courtesy. “Are you using Magesight or something?”
“No, I’m pretty sure Magesight is a myth…” I said, distracted slightly by a particularly interesting matrix of spellwork.
Hermione seemed to be getting irritated by my distracted half-answer, “Then how?!”
“By touch and feel,” I explained more thoroughly. “See how I’m constantly keeping contact with the object I want to examine? It’s a bit of a tricky skill to truly develop but all Wizards and Witches can feel the magic in an item. Think about how it felt when Olivander had you trying different wands. If you understand enough about Magic Theory, you can sort of feel the kinds of spells or other magic on an object and tell them apart from that…”
“Teach me!” Hermione demanded, once again forgetting her manners but in an adorably excited-to-learn kind of way.
I chuckled and motioned her over to me. Taking her hand, I placed it on the side of the tepee beneath mine. Her face scrunched up cutely and I knew she was trying to force herself to feel what I’d described.
“Don’t force it,” I advised. “Here, take out your wand. Now, just let yourself relax and focus on calling upon your magic but not using it.”
When I saw Hermione try to do as I’d said, I added some more guidance, “Each spell has a unique feel to it. Sort of like a frequency or sometimes even a song. Do you feel the way some of the magic forms what almost feels like a vacuum in one place? That’s the enlarging charm for the tent’s internal space. That’s what makes the tent bigger on the inside.”
“Feel the part that feels like…” I struggled to find the correct words. “Like that one part in Fantasia that everyone remembers? The part with the brooms and mops and stuff? That’s the animation charm that allows the tent to set itself up.”
“Wow…” Hermione whispered breathlessly. “This is amazing… I’ve never even thought to pay attention to these sensations but now that you’ve brought them to my attention, I can remember feeling them everywhere!”
I smirked, “Yup, that’ll happen. The first time I knew what I was actually feeling there, I ended up holding onto Chocolate Frog for the entire day, trying to figure out how they gave a piece of chocolate life.”
Hermione turned to gape at me, “Chocolate Frogs are alive?!”
“Not alive, just animated. There’s a big difference as it turns out,” I corrected. “C’mon, let’s see if you can sense anything differently from inside the tent.”
< +1 to Enchanting for Deepening Your Understanding of Sensing Magic >
< Enchanting 29+1=30/100 >
< +2 to Teaching for Teaching Hermione an Essential Magical Skill >
< Teaching 32+2=34 >
< Your Social Skill is Now Tier 2 >
She followed me back around to the front of the tent and we entered through the small flap there. Heather, seeing us go in alone, grew a teasing grin on her face and moved to follow us. We didn’t notice her presence until she spoke.
“My, what do we have here~? Are you two lovebirds trying to sneak off and get some time alone together~? Aren’t you supposed to be chaperoning me, Atlas~? This doesn’t seem very ~responsible~” Heather teased.
Hermione rolled her eyes, “Honestly, Heather, Atlas was just showing me something.”
“Oh~?” Heather’s grin grew into a knowing smirk.
“N-Not like that!” Hermione stuttered. “He was showing me how to sense magic!”
“Well, I certainly sense magic in the air~”
I couldn’t help but enjoy the chemistry between the two girls and the way they played off each other. Our purpose for entering the tent was forgotten thanks to Heather but I didn’t mind all that much. I let her tease Hermione for a bit as I looked around the tent.
Of course, that plan was almost immediately derailed by a cacophony of noise from outside. This wasn’t the Wizarding chaos that we’d grown accustomed to from the campsite. This was violence and panic. A monumental explosion rocked the air even inside the tent and I felt the telltale signs of a stampeding mob shaking the earth.
Heather moved faster than I could track, instantly dropping her teasing and getting serious. She peeked her head out of the tent’s flap and I followed close behind her, looking out over her shorter frame. The sight that greeted my eyes reflected the chaotic noises we’d heard from inside.
People were running for their lives. They raced past our tent, not even looking back or paying attention to those who’d fallen around them. Thankfully, no one was trampled over… No one that we saw, at least.
The Weasleys were nowhere in sight. The campfire they’d set up in front of the tent was kicked into still-burning debris that littered the grass of the moor, spreading quickly. Quick thinking from Heather put out the flames before they could spread further and trap us in the tent.
A darkly-robed, masked man crossed into our field of vision and instantly set about burning tents, hexing the fleeing people, and generally creating havoc. I pulled Heather back into the tent before the man could see us, cursing under my breath.
“We have to help!” Heather declared, frantic but determined.
“That was a Death Eater!” I hissed at her. “If they recognize you, they’ll drop anything they’re doing to go after you. And that’s not even mentioning the danger of trying to help in an already chaotic situation. There’s no guarantee that the Aurors will see us as the good guys, even if we’re trying to help.”
The mention of Death Eaters just seemed to further firm Heather’s determination, “That’s all the more reason we should be out there fighting!”
I took a step back to just look at her. From the look on her face, I knew there would be no convincing her otherwise. She was deadset on helping people, on doing something. And it wasn’t like I was going to stun her and apparate us out of here. I had a feeling Dumbledore wouldn’t quite be happy with me for that, even if it was to keep Heather safe. But… he wouldn’t be happy with me for letting her do this alone either.
< Observe >
< Heather Potter >
< Title: Girl-Who-Lived >
< Combat Skill (T5) >
< Magic Skill (T2) >
< Social Skill (T3) >
< Creation Skill (T1) >
Oh, come on… Why did Heather’s Skills look more impressive than mine? Even with my recent Social Tier increase, the total of her combined Tiers was 11 to my 10. Well, I couldn’t see her Discipline levels so maybe they weren’t actually as high as her Tiers led me to believe. But her Combat Skill was kind of ridiculous, no matter what. I guess that’s what being in life-or-death situations since you were one year old gets you.
Still, that did change things a bit. I now had firm evidence that Heather could keep herself safe in a fight. Hell, she might keep me safe in a fight. And a not-so-small part of me did want to help… I could hardly imagine the horrors Death Eaters would visit upon the Muggles in the campsite if they found them.
“… Okay,” I eventually agreed. “If you’re going to do this, you should at least do it with an adult on your side. Well… someone who passes for an adult if you squint enough… But you stick close to me. And if I tell you to cut and run, you do. Even if it means leaving me behind. Put yours and Hermione’s safety first, okay?”
I looked over at Hermione and was utterly unsurprised to see the same determination on her face as on Heather’s. She clearly didn’t become best friends with the Girl-Who-Lived by being a coward.
Padfoot woofed, drawing our attention to him. Somehow, he had the same determined look on his dumb doggy face. I was past the point of questioning how Human Padfoot seemed. Maybe he was just a frighteningly intelligent familiar like Shadow was.
“Yeah, buddy,” I said. “Protect your girls for me. Make sure, no matter what, that Heather and Hermione get out of here alive.”
“Stop with the defeatist talk!” Heather scolded me. “We’re all making it out of here alive! And we’re going to help others do the same! Fucking Death Eater bastards picked the wrong after-party!”
“Language, Heather,” Hermione chided gently but it was easy to tell her heart wasn’t in it.
Still, it made me laugh enough to dismiss the last of my nerves. We were doing this. I was doing this. I’d been expecting danger this year. I just hadn’t expected it so soon. Red-hot blood began to pump through my veins. I wasn’t going to back down now that we’d gotten this far…
“Right… Let’s go,” I said, moving to the tent flap ahead of Heather and Hermione.
I peeked my head out of the tent first, planning on dutifully doing my duty as a meatshield if it immediately came to that. I saw nothing on the other side. The stampeding mob of people, Magical and Muggle alike, had already passed. The Death Eater we’d seen had moved on as well. All that was left in their wake was a mess of burned-out tents and a few motionless bodies.
The sight of the bodies steeled my determination. Based on their clothing, there was a good chance they were Muggles or at least Muggle-born. And I couldn’t tell if they were alive or just unconscious. Before I knew what I was doing, I was standing over the closest one, checking their pulse. I found nothing.
The next faired better. There was a pulse but it was weak. I cast the few medical spells I knew, hoping to make them more comfortable and promising myself to research healing more in the future.
< Actions Acknowledged… New Discipline Unlocked… Calculating Preexisting Progress… >
< Healing 25/100 >
AN: Forgot to make a Healing Discipline lol. I decided to put it under Combat for those who are interested. It could’ve gone under Magic as well but I feel like there will be enough Disciplines crowding that category in the future (I.E. Wandless Magic, Dark Arts, Illusion, etc.)
Not the time, System… I stabilized the second body and continued my work, securing a third. Once the bodies were dealt with, I raised my wand to the sky and shot off red sparks in the shape of a cross. Even Wizards knew the symbol of the Red Cross, right? I just had to hope the Death Eaters wouldn’t find it before the Aurors did.
I threw up a quick and dirty ward set just to be safe, burning Runes into the grass around the bodies. It was just an ill-intent ward and a hasty magical shield though. I didn’t feel like we had time for much more.
We kept moving, wands drawn and ready. Padfoot and I took point as we walked through the campsite that now looked like the setting of an apocalypse. In the distance, we could see fires still raging amongst some of the tents as we passed tents that were already ash and debris.
I nervously twirled my wand, just needing something to do with my hands. Thankfully, we didn’t pass any more bodies. It gave me the tiniest bit of hope that most people had escaped the riot before they could meet an unfortunate fate like those we’d already come across.
Smoke from the fires added to the mist of the moor, further obscuring our vision as we pressed on. We heard screams from the hazy darkness, some far and some close. We headed for the one that sounded closest.
As we grew closer to the scream, a silhouette appeared in the haze. We instantly raised our guard but still crept closer. The silhouette revealed a figure. Dark robes and a mask made the person’s allegiance clear. As did the fact that they were standing over a prone body, aiming at it with their wand and cackling as it screamed.
A blast of red light streamed at the Death Eater from behind me. I barely had time to process that Heather had cast the Disarming Spell silently — and powerfully, at that — before the Death Eater was sent flying back and their wand went flying. I followed up her spell with a Stupefy at the disabled Death Eater before they could react to the first spell.
Heather and Hermione instantly went to the victim’s side, helping him stand. He was twitching vigorously as he was helped up, tears streaming down his face along with all the other distasteful effects of being under Crucio. He was in poor condition but seemed able to walk with considerable effort.
“T-T-T-Thank y-y-you…” He stuttered, already stumbling away. None of us stopped him. It was obvious why he would want to get out of here as quickly as he possibly could and we weren’t done yet. The only thing we could do was let him go.
Tightly controlled rage showed on Heather’s face as she watched the man limp off. She didn’t say anything though, simply turning toward another scream and taking off in a jog. Hermione, Padfoot, and I joined her, similarly silent and serious. A shrill, sobbing, feminine scream split through the chaos of the night and we sped up even more.
Soon enough, we arrived at the scene. Several Death Eaters — four, with one as the obvious leader — stood in a loose line before a young girl who looked just a year or two younger than Heather and Hermione. She was on the ground, scrambling backward on her butt as they closed in on her. The Death Eaters just chuckled at her panic and even though they were wearing masks, I could tell their faces were twisted into cruel grins beneath.
The Death Eater at the front petrified the girl with a spell and went about fiddling with his robes. Their intentions quickly became obvious with that reveal and pure anger, dark and violent, surfaced in my heart. They wanted this poor girl aware and conscious of what they were about to do. They wanted her to suffer…
Before I could think twice, I began moving quicker than I ever had before. My wand swished twice in seemingly the same motion, once in a zigzag and once with a sharp slash. My mind instantly called upon some of the more violent and permanent spells I knew, the smoothness of my movements enhanced by the System.
There was a vicious crack as if reality itself was momentarily torn asunder and the three Death Eaters closest to us exploded into showers of gore and heat. The last remaining Death Eater didn’t even get to react before my second spell, a darkly-charged Cutting Curse, severed his arm and sliced deep into his back. He fell backward despite the force of my spell and I blinked, only to find myself standing above him, barely aware that I’d moved.
It was like I was in a dark trance of retribution and righteous rage. I loomed above the fallen Death Eater, a dark silhouette in his fading vision. My face, only faintly illuminated by the flickering fires of the campsite around us, was set in a stony, blank expression.
“B-B-Bella-…” He stuttered, shaking in fear from whatever his dying mind had come up with to explain the last thing he would see.
I didn’t even let him finish. My wand slashed again and I left him to bleed out on the grass with his throat now slit. With all the threats taken care of, the dark trance that had taken over me faded into the background and I went to check on and revive the young girl.
“Y-You killed them…” I heard Hermione whisper behind me.
I had. And I didn’t feel an ounce of remorse. This was justice in my mind. Dark, yes, but deserved. Hell, better than they deserved, a dark part of my mind whispered. Scum like them should have suffered the same way they were going to make their victims suffer.
I pushed that thought away, less influenced by the dark nature of my magic now that the trance had passed, “I have no patience for rapists and sadistic bullies.”
“B-But-…”
“Hermione, this is a conversation we can have later,” I cut off Hermione’s protest with a firm voice. “Right now, there is a victim we need to tend to. Someone more deserving of our attention, consideration, and care.”
“… Yes, Atlas,” Hermione seemed to at least somewhat realize how insensitive she was being. I don’t think she was entirely against me killing the Death Eaters either, just shocked at the brutality of it all.
I turned to the poor frozen girl and went about reviving her. The worst part was they’d only petrified her, not stunned. I could still see the light in her eyes. She would have been completely conscious of the actions that could have followed if we weren’t there to stop the Death Eaters. Thankfully, that also meant reviving her was only a matter of a simple counter-charm.
Her body went limp as the counter-charm took effect. She lay there for a moment, seemingly stunned, before jackknifing herself upright and launching herself toward me. I could barely react before I found myself being hugged and bowled over by a hundred-plus pounds of thankful teenage girl.
The reason she was targeted in this way was obvious. She was a beautiful young girl and there was just something else that seemed to call out to my soul. A sort of energy poured off her uncontrollably, one laced with Lust and Desire. It didn’t take long for me to realize she was a Veela.
Even without her Allure, she was gorgeous though. Long, silky blonde hair like spun white gold hung around her head like a halo. Her icy-blue eyes were wet with tears and still seemed to sparkle. Plump pink lips parted and quivered prettily. Looking at her, I was suddenly struck by how cute a perfectly shaped button nose could be, slightly upturned and oh-so perky.
Then she spoke French with a voice as beautiful as she was, “M-Merci… Merci, Mon Ange…”
I patted her back as she buried her face in my chest, fighting hard to ignore her Allure and retain control of my body, “N-No… No problem. M-Maybe dial back the Allure though?”
“Ah!” She gasped, showing that she spoke very passable if accented English. “Of course, of course, anything for Mon Ange!”
The almost overwhelming pull of desire and infatuation she was emitting faded slightly and I breathed a sigh of relief, “That’s better. What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Gabrielle… Gabrielle Delacour…”
She drew her head back slightly and gazed deeply into my eyes. I could have sworn I felt something click into place inside her soul. Her eyes widened and for a moment, it was like she was drawn to me just as her Allure drew me to her. She leaned forward, breathless lips parting slightly.
Her lips just barely brushed against mine before sudden noises forced us apart. But that brief contact seemed to be enough for whatever Gabrielle was experiencing to fully take hold of her. Electricity and magic passed between us with that touch. It was almost as if I could sense something finalize and settle deep within her, something that led back to me.
Still, we were forced apart. The night took on a green hue around us. I looked around to see Heather and Hermione gaping at the sky, seemingly ignorant of the moment me and Gabrielle had just shared. I considered how that might have been a good thing as I followed their gazes, looking just in time to see the Dark Mark rise over the campsite…
Comments
Mordeus
looking forward to the next chapter
