APPROACHING his family's cottage, Ollie couldn't help but feel an eerie and intimidating presence emanating from its dark and desolate facade. It was strange to him how the home where he had grown up and spent his entire life could appear so forbidding under the veil of night. He instinctively reached for the dark woolen fabric of his Death Eater's robes, an action that seemed to offer some comfort.
Standing there, in front of his house, a wave of uneasiness washed over Ollie, a feeling he experienced every time. He raised a shaky hand to his tired eyes and rubbed his rough skin, frustration evident in the faint sigh that escaped his lips. Letting the hood of his robes fall over his broad shoulders, he closed his eyes, seeking a moment of respite.
In a spontaneous gesture, he stretched out his palm, and his magic surged within him, conjuring a pristine pure white flower. Opening his eyes, he gazed at the small, delicate thing now resting calmly in his large and calloused hand. Bathed in the dim light, the plant's colors appeared almost blindingly bright, exuding a sense of lusciousness and purity. The memory of meeting the witch his master paired him alongside for the mission flashed vividly in his mind. Norah Wydman's laughter echoed in his thoughts as if she were right beside him.
He could almost see her fair blonde hair dancing in the moonlight outside the Malfoys' home, resembling a beautiful painting. Her smile was so sweet and captivating that Ollie believed no other witch in Europe could compare.
Yet, as his mind wandered further into thoughts of his new partner, a sudden sharp pain pierced his heart. He felt conflicted, as if something about his feelings for the witch was not right, that it shouldn't be this way.
It had to be wrong, he convinced himself.
Ollie's heart pounded relentlessly in his chest as a haunting voice, a voice that bore an uncanny resemblance to his late father's, chimed a warning in the back of his mind, casting doubt on Norah Wydman.
"You truly believe a witch like that could care for a bastard and a wretch like you?" The words echoed with ire, tinged with his father's gruffness, clouding Ollie's thoughts. "She's only going with you because she has no choice, boy," the voice continued, calloused with bitterness. "The moment she learns of the monster you truly are beneath the surface, the people you've killed, the atrocities you've committed, she'll flee from you like the plague. You're a bastard, a fool, and will never be anything more. You delude yourself to think otherwise," his father's voice whispered into his ear, tormenting him with memories of his past. Fear and uncertainty gnawed at Ollie's resolve.
The reminder of his dark deeds and his status as a bastard sent shivers down his spine. He struggled to push away the intrusive thoughts, aware that they could be a trap set by the darkness that had once consumed him.
"If you let yourself get distracted with thoughts of the witch, the Dark Lord will cast you aside without conscience and take everything from you," his father's mocking laughter reverberated in his mind, taunting him mercilessly.
Ollie knew he had to stay focused on the mission, on his duty as a Death Eater. But the pull of his feelings for Norah was strong, and the desire for redemption clawed at him just as fiercely. The memory of Father's voice was veiled, yet the black-haired wizard could still vividly recall his imposing figure and cold, stern gaze, devoid of any warmth.
From a young age, Father had instilled in Ollie a deep sense of wariness toward women. He had been repeatedly warned about the danger he posed to society, and Father had cautioned him not to allow himself to get too close to anyone. Despite Father's relentless advice, Ollie couldn't fully embrace the notion. How could he believe that he was destined to bring harm or destruction? It seemed unfathomable, and a part of him resisted such a dark prophecy.
As he pondered these conflicting thoughts, Ollie couldn't deny the ache in his heart. He yearned for connections, for companionship that went beyond the confines of his father's ominous warnings. Deep down, he wanted to believe that there was more to his existence, that he could find acceptance and love despite his past and heritage.
Even now, the witch's serene sky-blue eyes remained etched in his memory, but there was a hint of sadness within them that puzzled him yet drew him closer. Ollie had never expected a witch to evoke such unfamiliar emotions in him, especially at a time when he felt broken, scarred, and beaten. Still, he couldn't deny these new feelings, which held a peculiar sense of familiarity, like fragments of a distant, fond memory viewed within a Pensieve.
Yet, a part of him resisted these emotions. Though they were light and breathless, darkness lurked within him, threatening to consume the fragile bloom of affection he felt for Norah Wydman. The pristine white flower he had conjured earlier lay nearly forgotten, slipping from his grasp as he approached his cottage's front porch.
Despair overwhelmed him, and he buried his head in his hands, black locks sticky and tangled within his fingers. The flower met the hard step, its petals bending under the weight of his internal turmoil.
Ollie felt vexed and almost hysterical, his lungs burning as he struggled to control his breathing, but the torment within his mind seemed unyielding. Amidst the chaos, a moment of deafening silence descended upon him, granting him a brief respite from the inner voice that had haunted him.
All he could hear now was the sound of the wind swirling around his trembling body. He kept his head pressed against his hands, trying to find solace in the silence. Gradually, the burning sensation in his chest subsided, and the tears he had fought so hard to hold back threatened to escape. Yet, as the silence enveloped him, a bitter realization settled in the pit of his stomach. His father was the source of his torment, the reason he was the monster he was.
Ollie shook his head vigorously, trying to banish the frenzied thoughts that threatened to derail his resolve. The weight of the Dark Lord's mission bore heavily on him, leaving no room for failure.
He couldn't afford to falter, and neither could Norah or the consequences would be catastrophic.
Under his breath, he murmured a fleeting prayer to Merlin, though he doubted the ancient and wise advisor could hear him or would even bother to heed the plea of a mere bastard like himself. Nevertheless, he found a moment of solace in the gesture. Gently picking up the delicate flower he had dropped, Ollie held it in his palm, studying it with thoughtful eyes. The sight of the small plant reminded him of Norah, and he felt a mixture of confusion and longing.
Pressing the flower to his chest, he closed his eyes, allowing the memories of their encounter to swirl in his mind. Amidst the chaos of his emotions, he couldn't deny that something good had emerged from their meeting.
Collecting himself, Ollie rose to his feet, still clutching the flower to his chest. He began to ascend the rest of the porch steps, moving slowly under the weight of exhaustion and inner turmoil. However, the sound of leaves and twigs crunching underfoot caught his attention, causing him to whirl around in surprise. There, approaching him with an air of arrogance, was Antonin Dolohov. Ollie's heart sank at the sight of the Russian wizard.
Antonin's dark eyes gleamed with amusement, clearly reveling in the discomfort he was causing his comrade.
Ollie's jaw clenched, and his grip on the flower tightened even more as he felt his body react to Antonin's taunts. The Russian wizard's lips twitched with the beginnings of a smile, and his heavily accentuated voice oozed amusement as he mocked Ollie.
"Having a moment of weakness, Black, are we?" Antonin's words came like a smooth, buttery purr, accompanied by a sinister grin. "Or are you just another fool swayed by a pretty face and the promise of an empty smile?"
Fighting to control his temper and the rising darkness within him, Ollie closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down.
The demon within him threatened to surface, making him shake and gasp for breath, the world around him threatening to fade away. As he regained composure, Ollie refused to look at Antonin in his agitated state, not wanting to give the Russian wizard the satisfaction of his distress.
"Get to the point, Dolohov. I have no time for your games," he grunted, his voice carrying an undertone of anger that he struggled to suppress. He flinched as Antonin chuckled darkly, his unease growing. When he finally opened his eyes, he was met with a confusing mix of emotions from the Russian wizard.
"I came willingly of my own accord, Black," Antonin replied with an air of calculated calmness. "I thought you might merely need a reminder. The Dark Lord has given you a chance, and your mission partner, Norah, is valuable to our cause. If she falls into the wrong hands, it will be your head on the line, but you seem intelligent enough to know."
Ollie's heart pounded in his chest. The weight of responsibility settled heavily on his shoulders. He couldn't allow his feelings for Norah to jeopardize their mission or put her in danger.
But he also couldn't shake the sense of protectiveness he felt for her. Ollie's anger flared as Antonin continued to taunt and belittle Norah. The Russian wizard's mocking words about her beauty being a shame due to what she was piqued Ollie's curiosity, but he knew better than to engage in a battle of words with the cunning Antonin.
"It's almost a shame, such a creature as her," Antonin said, a cruel glint in his eyes. "But then again, I suppose that's what makes her so useful to the Dark Lord."
The insinuation infuriated Ollie, but he held back his temper, determined to maintain his composure. When he attempted to force the truth from Antonin, the Russian wizard only responded with arrogance.
"It's not my place to tell you your place, Black," Antonin sneered. "But trust me when I say that she's no ordinary witch."
Ollie gritted his teeth, his patience wearing thin. "I know what's at stake, Dolohov," he snapped, his voice laced with anger. "I don't plan to let anything happen to Norah in the Forest. Did you come all this way just to tell me what I already know?"
He saw a flicker of surprise in Antonin's eyes as if Ollie's assertiveness caught him off guard.
But the Russian wizard quickly regained his composure, his triumphant smirk returning.
"You may think you know your new partner already, Black, but I can promise you that you do not know," Antonin said with a condescending tone, "but there are always hidden depths, secrets you can't even begin to comprehend."
Ollie's frustration boiled over, and he shot Antonin a rueful look with raised eyebrows.
He scoffed, refusing to be manipulated by the cunning wizard. Despite the tension in the air, Ollie's dark brown eyes remained sharp and cold, matching the intensity in Antonin's gaze.
"You're wasting your time, Antonin," Ollie retorted. "I won't be swayed by your mind games. Norah's safety is my responsibility, and I won't let you or anyone else jeopardize it."
Antonin's smile widened slightly, but it held a predatory edge. "You're a fool, Oliver, if you think you can protect her from everything that lurks in the Forest. There are forces at play beyond your comprehension."
"I'll take my chances," Ollie said firmly, his resolve unwavering. "And I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe."
Ollie shook his head, trying to deny the fear that gripped him at Antonin's words. Anger welled up inside him, and he squared his shoulders, preparing to turn away from the sinister wizard. But before he could fully retreat, his gaze caught on something held between Antonin's thumb and forefinger.
Curiosity mingled with his anger, and Ollie couldn't tear his eyes away. His hands trembled at his sides, and the darkness within him surged, urging him to lash out at the Russian wizard and silence him forever.
As Antonin studied the object with a hardened gaze, Ollie's heart pounded in his chest, and his mind raced to comprehend what it could be. Then, realization struck him like a bolt of lightning, and his breath caught in his throat. It was a single strand of Norah Wydman's blonde hair, inadvertently caught between Antonin's robes during his confrontation with her earlier.
Anger and fear intertwined within Ollie, and he struggled to control his emotions. Antonin's clouded look of lust and intrigue at the sight of Norah's hair only fueled his fury. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to act on the dark thoughts that swirled in his mind.
Antonin sensed Ollie's gaze upon him, and a sinister smile played on his lips, unseen by the dark-haired wizard. He taunted Ollie with his words, mentioning the mission and the allure of being close to the pretty little witch.
"Your mission will be worth it, Black, won't it? To look at her so close? It's almost a pity, considering...what Willas Wydman's daughter is," Antonin purred with a mocking tone.
Unable to bear it any longer, now knowing the man was mocking him, Ollie snapped, his voice almost cracking with emotion.
"Just go."
He refused to give Antonin the satisfaction of witnessing his turmoil any further. Ollie turned away, his back straight and his resolve unwavering. He wouldn't allow himself to be toyed with by the Russian bastard any longer.
He knew Antonin had sought him out merely to taunt him after their meeting at Lucius's home. With a mix of anger and frustration swirling within him, Ollie strode up the steps of his home's porch.
His hand gripped the chipped doorknob tightly, and with a forceful twist, he wrenched the door open and vanished into the darkness within. The door slammed shut behind him, the resounding noise nearly drowning out the sound of Antonin Dolohov Disapparating off the property.
Inside the safety of his home, Ollie leaned against the closed door, taking deep breaths to steady himself. His heart still pounded in his chest, and the encounter with Antonin left him feeling unsettled and on edge. The lingering sense of danger clung to him, a reminder of the threats that surrounded him and the mission he had undertaken.
Gazing around the dimly lit interior, Ollie tried to find solace within the familiar surroundings. His home, though modest and worn, offered him a refuge from the outside world and the darkness that lurked within it.
As he paced the living room, his mind buzzed with conflicting thoughts and emotions. He couldn't shake the feeling that Antonin's presence was a foreboding sign, a reminder that the path he had chosen was fraught with peril.
But he had made his decision, and he wouldn't back down. Protecting Norah and fulfilling the Dark Lord's mission was of paramount importance, no matter the challenges or enemies that stood in his way. Taking a breath, Ollie tried to push aside the unsettling encounter with Antonin. He knew he needed to focus and strategize, not let his anger and fear cloud his judgment. The night stretched on, but Ollie's mind remained active, planning and preparing for the mission that lay ahead. As the darkness outside deepened, he felt a sense of determination grow within him.
He would face whatever challenges came his way. The demons of his past and the sinister presence of Antonin Dolohov would not deter him from his purpose. With newfound resolve, Ollie was ready to confront the darkness, both within himself and in the world around him. He was prepared to protect Norah and ensure that the mission's success was the one bright spot in the shadows that threatened to engulf him.
Ollie leaned against the now-closed front door of his home, his body still trembling from the intensity of the recent events. The minutes that had passed felt like an eternity, and his weary bones ached with exhaustion. His black robes clung to his body uncomfortably, the heavy fabric adding to his fatigue.
In the silence of his home, Ollie tried to collect himself, but the weight of anxiety weighed heavily on his shoulders. This place should have been his sanctuary, a respite from the darkness outside, but now it felt tainted by the encounter with Antonin Dolohov. With a heavy sigh, he ran a hand down the side of his face, trying to ease the growing tension. The emotions and memories of the night swirled in his mind, leaving him drained and weak.
But he was back in his home, a place he had known all his life, and that brought some measure of comfort.
Moving with a slight limp, Ollie made his way to the sofa in the corner of the room, pushing aside the thought of removing his boots. He sank onto the cushions, not caring about the discomfort.
All he wanted was to close his eyes and find respite in sleep, to escape from the turmoil that plagued his mind.
His eyes felt heavy, and he welcomed the darkness that crept into his vision as he closed them. The events of the night were still fresh, and he knew that he needed time to process them. But for now, he craved the peace that sleep could offer, even if only for a short while. As he lay there, the quietness of his home enveloped him, offering a brief moment of solace. Ollie tried to push away any further thoughts, knowing that he couldn't bear another distressing or terrifying moment. He longed for a respite from the burdens he carried as a lonesome Death Eater.
For this fleeting moment, in the solitude of his home, Ollie allowed himself to surrender to exhaustion and drift into a restless slumber. The night still held its secrets, but for now, he sought refuge in the comfort of his own space, hoping to find some semblance of peace amidst the chaos that awaited him beyond the walls of his home.
As he lay there that night, sleepless on his sofa and staring numbly up at the ceiling, Ollie was filled with uncertainty as he contemplated the Dark Lord's demand. He half-expected that the Dark Lord might have changed his mind overnight. However, when he woke up to the sound of Norah Wydman's sweet and shy voice in the Patronus message she had sent him, he knew he had to meet her outside The Leaky Cauldron as instructed.
Despite feeling tired and groggy, Ollie mustered the determination to prepare for the mission, fully aware of the possibility that Norah would reject him as her partner. He couldn't shake the knowledge of her disdain for him. As he double-checked the essential belongings they would need for their camping expedition in the perilous Forbidden Forest before Disapparating, a wave of bitterness surged through his stomach, making him feel physically unwell.
He worried that Norah might not have seen the burn mark under his eye from the previous night or sensed the darkness lurking within him. These thoughts haunted him even while he tried to sleep. Ollie couldn't deny his intense desire to be alone with Norah, even though he was frightened by the intensity of his feelings.
Anxious nerves started to get the better of Ollie, and his stomach growled loudly, reminding him that he had forgotten to eat breakfast. He was surprised that his family's house-elf hadn't woken him up as usual, adding to his momentary panic. Quickly, he glanced at the clock on the wall across from him, nearly in a state of frantic urgency. He realized he was running late to meet his new partner, and he was already almost ten minutes behind schedule.
Frustration washed over him as he groaned, knowing that his clock was broken and he had yet to find the time to repair it despite always intending to do so.
Exhausted, Ollie closed his eyes and concentrated on the destination in his mind, preparing to Disapparate outside his home. Though his heart was filled with trepidation, he knew he had no choice but to carry on with the mission.
As he materialized on the cobblestoned streets, he wearily opened his eyes and let out a sigh of relief.
Norah Wydman stood there, dressed and ready, outside The Leaky Cauldron. She looked surprisingly well-rested, her clear eyes meeting his with a sense of determination. Her blonde hair, now shoulder-length, cascaded in untamed waves around her face, and her dark blue coat with a fur-lined hood appeared worn and in need of repair.
Her eyes held a hint of dark eyeshadow, making the blue of her irises stand out, but they also revealed an underlying sadness and fear that nearly stopped him in his tracks.
"Norah," he whispered, concern evident in his voice. "Are you okay?"
Norah hesitated for a moment as if struggling to find the right words.
Finally, she spoke, her voice shy but uneasy, and her eyes widened as she stared past Ollie's shoulder. "Ollie, I-I'm fine, y-you're sweet to worry. I-I didn't want to wait alone for you, but I didn't expect...him," she whispered.
Alarmed, Ollie turned to see what had caught her attention and his heart sank when he spotted Antonin Dolohov leaning casually against the bricked wall of a building opposite The Leaky Cauldron. The twisted grin on the Russian wizard's sharp features sent a shiver down Ollie's spine, and he could feel a coil of tension tightening in his gut.
Antonin's voice oozed with smugness and arrogance as he addressed Ollie, using Norah's name in a way that made Ollie's blood boil. The Russian wizard even dared to speak in Russian, adding insult to injury.
Ollie's hands trembled with rage, but he forced himself to clench them into fists at his sides. The urge to draw his wand and confront Antonin was almost overwhelming, but he knew he had to maintain control.
"Speak up, Dolohov," Ollie snapped, his voice dripping with disdain. "You know very well that I only speak English and a tip of my nail's worth of German," he added, his teeth clenched in frustration. His blood boiled as Antonin Dolohov's smirk grew wider, smugly crossing his arms.
"I was saying to your lovely partner whom you do not deserve, Black, how gracious it is of you to be punctual in welcoming your new partner, Black. Miss Wydman and I were just enjoying a little chat while waiting, isn't that right, darling?" Antonin's voice oozed with a mocking tone, fueling Ollie's anger and irritation. Without waiting for a response, Antonin turned towards Norah, reaching out to stroke a lock of her hair.
A surge of burning rage coursed through Ollie, overwhelming his emotions. Anger and a hint of fear blended inside him as he witnessed Antonin's unexpectedly tender gesture toward his partner.
"Let her go! Now!" Ollie's command escaped in a low, vicious growl, his chest resonating with the intensity of his words. He kept a vigilant eye on Antonin but also spared a glance at Norah.
The fear he saw in her glistening blue eyes propelled him to take immediate action. Antonin was proving himself to be even stupider than Ollie thought, daring to lay a hand on the only person in Ollie's bleak life who saw him differently, without contempt, and as something more than a monster. At this moment, he abandoned all pretenses of gentleness, knowing it would be futile. In a blur of movement that surprised both Antonin and Norah, Ollie lunged at his fellow Death Eater with a furious snarl on his lips. A shadow passed over his face as the inner monster stirred, threatening to engulf him, a relentless force that had been with him since a young age, for better or worse.
His commitment was unwavering; he would never allow harm to befall his newfound partner. To the Dark Lord, he had promised Norah Wydman's protection, and he would uphold that vow at any cost—even if it meant taking a life.
With no time for Antonin to draw his wand, Ollie's hand shot out like a claw, unleashing the lurking demon within him. The darkness exuded from him like a malevolent mist, coiling around his form, and he felt his blue eyes flick black.
Amidst this transformation, he vaguely heard his new partner gasp in surprise, but he paid it no mind.
"You will not touch her, Dolohov. Norah Wydman is mine," he growled sharply, his hoarse and low voice now a fusion of his own and that of the inner entity—an unsettling, deeper, and harder tone that bordered on the monstrous.
Ollie's fingers closed tightly around Antonin's throat, exerting a crushing grip that stole the very air from the Russian's lungs. The choking hold was unrelenting, a display of the intensity with which he would protect his partner. The aura of darkness surrounding him painted a fearsome picture, showing he was not one to be trifled with.
As Antonin gasped for air, his eyes wide with fear and shock, Ollie's grip remained unyielding. The darkness emanating from him seemed to intensify, shrouding both of them in an eerie atmosphere. The surrounding onlookers watched in stunned silence, unsure of what they were witnessing.
The moment stretched on, with Ollie's inner battle raging between the desire to protect his partner and the realization that he was on the brink of succumbing to the monstrous force within him.
His mind struggled to regain control, to quell the surge of dark energy threatening to overwhelm him entirely.
During this internal conflict, a soft voice cut through the chaos.
"Ollie, please...don't...he's not worth this...don't." Norah pleaded, her voice filled with concern.
Her words pierced through the haze of anger, reaching some semblance of the man she hoped to still know beneath the darkness.
For a moment, Ollie hesitated, torn between the need to safeguard Norah and the fear of what he might become in doing so. His fingers loosened their grip slightly, allowing Antonin to gasp for a desperate breath.
Before the wizard could react, Ollie seized his new partner and pulled the witch close so she was flush against him, Disapparating without a word and smart to not look back.
As the dust settled, Norah gently approached Ollie, her hand outstretched as she pleaded, "Ollie, oh please look at me."
Reluctantly, he turned his gaze toward her, and his heart sank as he saw the worry etched across her face.
He was afraid of what she might see in him now, what he had allowed himself to become. Norah's eyes widened in shock as she caught sight of his once brilliant blue eyes, now engulfed in the deepest black.
"What…what are you, Ollie? You're…you're not just…a normal wizard, are you?" Norah stammered, finally realizing the truth of Ollie's hidden abilities. He had gone to great lengths to repress and hide them from her until now. "You're an Obscurial?" she asked, sounding sure of herself.
Before Norah could say more, Ollie's anger flared up, fearing that her discovery would lead her to leave him like others had in the past.
"Don't, Norah! Just…don't say it!" Ollie growled, his voice trembling with rage and desperation.
His outburst surprised Norah, and she flinched away, hurt by his defensive response. However, something inside her compelled her to stand her ground. She had seen something in Ollie last night that made her want to help him, just as he had helped her thrice.
"I won't leave you," Norah said firmly. "It doesn't matter if you…if you're an Obscurial, Ollie. Whatever you're going through, I can handle it…if you let me. You are not alone in this and…neither am I."
Ollie looked torn, still struggling with his emotions, but her words started to break through the darkness in his mind. He couldn't help but be moved by her compassion.
"Norah, you do not know the things I've done," he whispered, his voice trembling with shame.
Norah shook her head, reaching out and placing her hand gently on his chest. She refused to let him retreat into self-doubt any further.
"Then tell me," she urged, her voice gentle but insistent. "Share your burdens with me, as partners are meant to do for each other, and we'll carry them together." Her sincerity touched him deeply, and the darkness within him wavered, unsure of how to respond to her unwavering support.
Ollie hesitated for a moment. He was lost in the overwhelming emotions that gripped him as he gazed at her, unsure of what to do next. The ache of longing in his heart left him breathless, and he found himself unable to resist her.
"Yes," he finally managed to say, his voice low and scratchy. The experience of speaking to someone else, stringing together many words in conversation, felt strange to him. He was more accustomed to speaking to himself and his house-elf, finding comfort in the old house-elf's company.
Briefly, he wondered where the elf had gone off to his morning and why she had not greeted him this morning. But he shoved aside thoughts of his family's house-elf for the moment and returned his gaze to the fair-haired lovely witch in front of him. Prolonged periods of silence often left him with a peculiar sensation of his brain vibrating within his skull as if seeking some form of stimulation. Norah smiled at his response, and he felt a wave of relief wash over him, grateful that he had agreed to whatever she had in mind.
"Good," she smiled warmly, reaching for his arm and leading him away from the forest clearing they had Apparated into. Ollie said nothing as he reluctantly allowed Norah to take the lead, merely thankful that the Forbidden Forest was immune from the protective enchantments surrounding Hogwarts, allowing them to Apparate within its bounds.
As they walked, Norah's soft and shy voice broke the silence. "You can tell me while we find a place to shelter for a while. A storm's coming," she said eerily, her concern evident as she strained to peer through the thick canopy of trees. The distant rumble of thunder confirmed her words, and the wind picked up, rustling the autumn leaves at their feet on the woodland path. Her gentle grip on his arm reassured him, and he found comfort in her presence.
But suddenly, without warning, Norah's smile warmed Ollie's heart as she reached out and took his hand. He could only stare at her, his eyes wide with both surprise and a flood of unfamiliar emotions.
Nervously, he licked his lips to wet them, trying to quell the knot forming in his throat.
With a heart beating painfully fast, and a mix of emotions he couldn't quite grasp, he silently followed Norah as she led him deeper into the heart of the Forbidden Forest.