blooming (h.g x fem oc) book 1

Chapter #16

---Flashback---

In a lit room filled with old, leather-bound books and the musty scent of ancient parchment, Isadora Jackson stood before the fireplace, her eyes fixed on the dancing flames. The soft crackle of burning wood accompanied her contemplative silence, shrouding the room in an air of mystery.

As the firelight flickered across her face, it revealed lines etched by time and a gaze that held a depth of secrets. Isadora's thoughts seemed to drift back to a moment from her past, a scene played out in the recesses of her memory.

In the haunting echoes of that distant encounter, a figure emerged—an enigmatic character whose presence left more questions than answers. Their words exchanged in hushed tones, obscured by the passage of time, hinted at a connection that lingered in the shadows of Isadora's history.

The air in the room whispered with the weight of untold stories, and the subtle tension hinted at a mystery waiting to be unraveled. The flickering flames cast dancing shadows on the walls, concealing the secrets hidden within Isadora Jackson's past and foreshadowing the enigmatic path that lay ahead.

She rubs her hand over her growing belly, she was determinate to protect the life living inside her, from the terror she was yet to discover.

---End of Flashback--

The common room crackled with an unexpected tension. Hermione's attempt to ward off the possible danger from Harry's new Firebolt had not been well received, at least not by the two boys who sat sullen and brooding.

Harry's lips were pressed into a thin line, his gaze fixated on the now-vacant space where his treasured broomstick once lay. Ron, his expression an unsettling mix of anger and disappointment.

Alexia, seated a bit away from the boys, observed the growing distance between her friends. She couldn't bear the thick fog of tension that enveloped the room. She cleared her throat, casting a quick glance at Harry and Ron, who remained steadfastly silent.

"Guys, come on," Alexia began, her tone gentle yet imploring. "We've faced bigger issues than this before. Hermione was just trying to help, you know that."

Harry's gaze darted towards Alexia, softened by her sincerity but still heavy with disappointment. "She didn't have to go and tell McGonagall, though, did she?"

"Yeah, mate, now McGonagall's gone and taken the Firebolt away," Ron grumbled, his voice thick with annoyance.

"She was just worried," Alexia offered, her eyebrows knitted together in concern. "You know Hermione, she wouldn't do anything to hurt us."

"Wouldn't hurt us?" Ron's voice was sharper than he had intended, the frustration evident in his tone. "Hermione's practically ruined Christmas! What if it's not cursed? What then?"

There was a pause, an unsettling lull in the conversation. Alexia knew Hermione remained seated in a cornerback in the Library, her nose buried deep within a book and it hurt to see her like that.

Just a couple of days ago, the three of them were working together on a plan to cheer Alexia up and bring them all together, and now... the tables have turned.

Alexia found herself torn between two worlds, each demanding her attention and loyalty. On one side was her steadfast friendship with Hermione, a connection that had weathered many storms. On the other side were Harry and Ron, who, blinded by their anger, distanced themselves over the broomstick incident. Frustration gripped her heart as she navigated the delicate balance, trying to mend the rift that threatened to fracture their trio. Each moment spent with one group felt like neglecting the other, leaving her torn and yearning for the harmony they once shared.