Invisible Threads | Blaise Zabini

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A/N:

Hello everyone!
Well well, where to begin?

It's been quite a year, hasn't it? I believe the world has at least ended four times in the span of one year. I hope you're all being safe, and taking every precaution to stay healthy and protect those around you. Trust me, my whole family is just now recovering from COVID-19, it is not fun.

And that's one of the reasons why I have been neglecting this story. The others being University, work, and figuring out some mind blowing things about myself. I mean have you seen women? How great are they? The point is: I'm very sorry about slacking, but naturally real life always has to come first.

But onto the more important stuff. As you can see I have decided to unpublish my story. I am sorry if some of you were not finished reading it or eagerly waiting for me to post the next chapter, but if I have to be completely honest I was starting to hate my work, especially from the characters' fifth year, and it's hard to feel inspired to pursue something that's disappointing you. I felt the need to rush myself and post chapters even if I didn't think they were perfect, which is definitely not the way to go. But I know I am a slightly better writer now, and I'm definitely more patient, so I want to fix it.

Let me know what you'll think of this updated version of Invisible Threads. You will find that some parts are entirely different, and better, in my humble opinion.

Thank you for being this patient with me and for every vote and comment, I may not always reply but I read all of them.

Enough if my blabbering. Please enjoy :)

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Licorice snaps

SHE WAS LEAVING AGAIN.

Excitement and sadness were fighting inside Clementine to prevail over the other. She kissed each one of her sibling and her mother with a smile and tears at the corner of her eyes. Then she climbed on the train with her father following behind. Gaspar huffed as he settled her luggage in the first empty carriage they could find, then turned to his daughter.

The face he made quickly drew Clementine's attention away from the prospect of finally seeing her bed again and on him. It was his 'no bantering for just a minute' face, one that she didn't get to see unless the situation was really serious. If he happened to call her by her name then she was really in for it.

"Remember to be nice, birdie," her father began. Birdie. Clementine thought, she wasn't in trouble yet, "and if your classmates start giving you problems again you have to tell me. I don't want to hear any more stories of you injuring students."

"That was two years ago," Clementine complained, "and Smith deserved it."

"He just - " Gaspar sighed heavily as Clementine's face turned tumultuous, "there are teachers and prefects all around the school, if Smith bothers you you ought to be smart and tell them, alright?"

"Alright," Clementine nodded, knowing that she wouldn't.

"And most importantly..." Gaspar made sure no one was listening and knelt in front of her. "Do you remember the incantation?"

"Expecto Patronum," Clementine promptly said.

Gaspar's expression was momentarily substituted by satisfaction. "Very good, but beware: one thing is to practice with a stick in the safety or our home, if you actually do end up in front of a dementor it will be much harder, so you must promise you'll practice during the year, and that you'll never go searching for them."