❝ THERE'S A KILLER ON THE LOOSE,
YET WHAT I'M MOST AFRAID OF IS YOU. ❞
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
*˳༄ 𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬.
Where Harry Potter and Hazel Finch try to
rebuild their lives after the War, but the
return of an infamou...
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A FATEFUL MEETING, TAKE TWO ◦ *˳༄ ❨ chapter ii. ❩ ━━━━ February, 2003
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◦ *˳ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ˳* ◦
THE first thing he noticed was her hair. It was several inches shorter than the last time he'd seen her. And it was lighter too. Or perhaps it was merely the bright lights overhead playing tricks on him; it had, after all, been well past twilight the last time he'd seen Hazel Finch, and back then it had been difficult for him to register anything, really.
Now, however, he could see her clearly, and what he saw made something churn inside him. Still and solemn, she sat with her hands clasped together, and an ugly, purpling bruise colored the left side of her face. It ran along her cheekbone and disappearing into her hair, right above her ear. A melted ice pack rested on the table before her, condensation glistening at its surface.
Momentarily dumbfounded, he simply stared at her. When he'd made his way to the holding rooms and pushed into the one Connie Burton, another Senior Auror, had indicated towards, Hazel was the last person he thought he'd come face to face with.
"Ms. Finch?" he asked, voice cracking slightly.
At the sound of his voice, her head jerked up, and brown eyes met green again for the first time in three years.
She swallowed, the sound audible in the stillness of the holding room.
It drew him back to the task at hand. Clearing his throat, he moved in more purposefully and held out a hand as he drew closer to the table, "Harry Potter."
She grasped his hand with a firmness he had not been expecting. "I know."
"How are you?"
"Not terrible," she replied nonchalantly, though her voice cracked slightly.
Harry's head jerked in what he hoped she understood to be a sympathetic nod and not a testament for how terribly well he was clearly handling this situation.
