"You're so insufferable, I hate you!" Hermione exclaimed, disdain filling her eyes.
"The feeling's mutual, you stupid... Muggle-born." Y/N retorted, Hermione's nose twitching out of frustration.
...
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Y/N and Draco strolled down the echoing corridors of the ancient castle, the soft glow of torchlight flickering on the stone walls. Their destination was the Great Hall, where the evening's festivities awaited. The air was charged with a mixture of excitement and anticipation, yet an unexpected turn of events was about to cast a shadow over their journey.
As they walked side by side, engaged in light conversation, Y/N's steps faltered. A sudden, sharp pain shot through her wrist, causing her to wince. At first, she dismissed it as a passing discomfort, perhaps a strain from a previous activity.
But within moments, the pain escalated, its intensity becoming almost unbearable. The ache that had once been easily brushed aside now clawed at her, as if it sought to consume her from within.
Draco noticed her abrupt halt and turned to her, his expression shifting from casual to concerned. "You all right?" he inquired, his voice laced with worry.
Y/N shook her head slightly, her features contorted in discomfort. "No," she managed to utter, her voice strained.
"It's like my palm is on fire." The pain seemed to radiate through her hand, the sensation akin to a thousand needles pricking at her skin. Her stomach churned in response, adding to the unsettling feeling that had taken hold of her.
In the midst of this agony, an unusual phenomenon unfolded. Y/N's once normal eyes now burned with a bright vivid shade of red, like smoldering embers. For a fleeting moment, her gaze intensified, almost resembling the pulsating glow of a lightbulb. It was as if her eyes held a hidden secret, a glimpse into an enigmatic world beyond.
Frowning in confusion and battling the waves of discomfort, Y/N couldn't help but feel a flicker of something extraordinary happening within her. She was sure she saw a delicate dance of flames within her palm, a fleeting vision that left her questioning her own perception. Was it a mere trick of her mind, a result of the searing pain that gripped her? Or was there something more profound and mystical at play?
The pain gradually subsided, retreating like a tide pulling away from the shore. Y/N took a deep breath, her furrowed brows slowly relaxing as she regained her composure. She exchanged a bewildered glance with Draco, his concern mirrored in his stormy eyes.
"What was that?" Draco inquired, his voice hushed with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.
Y/N's gaze lingered on her now-normal palm, the memory of flames dancing within it still vivid in her mind. "It must have been a reaction to the potion's ingredients," she murmured, "I have sensitive skin." her tone thoughtful as she adjusted her robes. Gathering herself, she started walking once again, determined to put the unsettling experience behind her.
Draco fell into step beside her, the mysteries of magic and its unpredictable nature lingering in the air. The Great Hall awaited them, but an unspoken understanding passed between them – magic was full of surprises, some more personal and mystifying than others.
