Starlit Death ✹ harry potter (on hold)

𝖝𝖝𝖝𝖎. my hands are the past of others' mistakes

chapter thirty-one.
( my hands are the past of others' mistakes )

              ASCELLA STUMBLED THROUGH THE FIREPLACE IN A BUILDING THAT CAUSED A SENSE OF DEJA VU to cascade through her body like electricity bolts at full speed. She blinked drowsily, her eyes instantly scanning her surroundings, taking in the blinding, white paint that decorated the walls, and the towering ceilings with chandeliers hanging gloriously, the diamonds resembling small droplets of pearly water.

              It was beautiful, Ascella had to admit, in an ethereal sort of way. She didn't know where she was, and the thought shook her to her core, goosebumps arising on her skin. Although, in spite of her not knowing where she was, a feeling of calmness washed over her, as if this building had a way to make her feel protected and comforted. A small part of her never wanted to leave. Ascella was half expecting Dumbledore to follow her through the fireplace, but when he didn't, she felt somewhat relieved.

              "It's wonderful, isn't it?" A deep and masculine voice tore her from her inner thoughts, and Ascella spun around, her hand pressed against her chest in shock. A man, stood, dressed in a suit ( that Ascella could instantly tell cost hundreds ), his hands raised slightly in defence. "Apologies, I didn't mean to make you jump. You were so deep in thought."

              Ascella chuckled lightly, "Yeah, I tend to do that a lot. This place . . . it's just . . ."

              As though he could read her mind, the man smiled, "I know. I built it many moons ago, and it's one of my proudest inventions. I do adore this place, almost as if it's my child."

              Ascella glanced around once more, before furrowing a brow. "Sorry, who are you . . .?"

              The man rushed forward, shaking his head amusedly and outstretching his hand. "My bad, I'm Elijah. Dr. Elijah Halloway."