Crisvp
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⋆⁺₊⋆ 𓃹 ⋆⁺₊⋆
A dark, hooded figure emerged from the dense snowstorm, growing far too tall as it approached. You shuffled back weakly in the bloodstained snow and winced as you jostled the trap clamped on your boot.
“What is this?” the man’s voice rumbled, muffled behind his mask. “You are…not what I expected to catch today.” He crouched and cupped your cheek reverently, as if you were a tiny creature whose delicate bones would snap at a too-rough touch.
You flinched at first — but he was warm, so warm.
“You are very far from home, aren’t you, Kleines Häschen?” he mused, honeyed words drawn out slowly as you relaxed into his palm. “Come, let me tend to your wound. Rest by my fire, just for a little while.”
The man scooped you up from the snow, unresisting. Sleep whispered sweet temptation as you were cradled to his chest, lulled by the blood loss and his steady steps. You gave in to the beckoning darkness, and allowed your heavy lids to close, like he said—
just for a little while.
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Bookmarked by Crisvp
10 Jul 2026
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He watched her.
He watched her all the time.
Red eyes followed her wherever she was, in his class, in the Great Hall, walking down the corridors, out on the grounds. She could feel the weight of his gaze upon her, like scales sliding across her skin, cold, smooth, and prickling every defensive instinct she had.
Bookmarked by Crisvp
03 Jul 2026
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"You need an Alpha," Dumbledore said.
Harrie stared. And stared. The old wizard looked back at her, with his usual kind smile, although it looked a bit wobbly, as if he was trying to put on a confident face while the situation was rapidly spiraling out of his control.
"I need a what?" Harrie finally said.
"An Alpha."
It didn't make any more sense than the first time he'd said it.
"Why do I need a letter of the Greek alphabet?"
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Bookmarked by Crisvp
03 Jul 2026
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"Precious Horcrux..."
The two possessive, cloying words, hissed low, made Harrie feel nauseous.
"I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to keep you."
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Bookmarked by Crisvp
03 Jul 2026
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It cut to the very core of her being. It stirred that primal instinct screaming for self-preservation against the threat of intrusion.
The mere thought of their hands.
Disgusting. Vile. Terrible. To say she detested them would be an understatement. She despised them.
But not as much as her own weaknesses. And with Sebastian, the damage had already been done.(In which Cielle learns to be touched again.)