Witch and the hothead 21
Paul
I run through the forest, the cold air clearing my head as I make my way home. The silence around me is comforting, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I wouldn't have the patience if any of my pack brothers showed up right now.
I didn't want to lose this euphoric feeling.
I imprinted. Me, Paul Lahote—freaking imprinted! And on a witch, no less. I laugh as I approach my house.
I turn on the light and close the door behind me, leaning back against it. For the first time since my mother died, I feel hope.
Hope that my existence in this world isn't one of loneliness and bitterness, but one filled with a bright future.
As I head toward the kitchen for a late-night snack, I feel a jolt of arousal—and it's not mine. I smile, knowing my witch is out there, touching her body and making herself feel good. I continue making my snack, the feeling growing, making me pause and take a breath.
My cock hard in my jeans and I palm myself trying to ease some of the tightness.
When the feeling spikes and then ease up I know she made herself cum and me and my wolf purrs, I hope she rubbed herself against my tshirt so that when I get it back, I can rub it all over me.
I caught the smell of her arousal when we were making out on the sofa and then later when we were outside after she met the wolf and fuck, she smells mouthwatering.
I can't wait to taste her. She's going to make the most arousing sounds as I lick her sweet little pussy. I fish out my phone from my back pocket, ignoring a text message from Sam, and send a message to my witch, smiling when she responds just minutes later. Her happiness fills me and I smile before finishing the last bite of my sandwich and turning off the lights.
As I make my way up the stairs to my bedroom, I briefly consider taking a shower, but I don't want to wash away her scent on my body. Instead, I merely pull off my pants and climb into bed. My cock is still hard, has been since I imprinted on her earlier, and it's almost painful. Especially now after feeling her pleasure through our connection. With a groan, I grip my shaft tightly in my hand and let my head fall back. Her hand would feel incredible wrapped around me, or even better, her mouth with those pink pouty lips surrounding my head. I imagine that her small nipples are the same pretty shade of pink as her lips while working my hand faster along my cock. Is her pussy just as soft and pink? I picture her petite frame bouncing on top of me, so tight and deep. My wolf growls in the back of my mind, wanting to go back there and claim her over and over again. The thought makes me moan, and I'm so close now. I want to hear her scream my name as she climaxes on top of me, feeling her walls clench around me. With a bite to suppress a growl, I squeeze my cock hard and, in a few seconds, cover my hand in my release. Gasping for air, I swallow hard and try to calm myself down.
Fuck that was fast I think and laugh at myself, getting up and wiping my release away with my towel before brushing my teeth.
As I get back in bed, I stare at the ceiling, thinking about my mum and how she would have liked Hermione. That little witch has a fire inside her—one that reminds me of my mother on her good days, before she drank herself to death to numb the pain of my father's absence.
When Severus looked into my mind earlier, I struggled to focus on what he wanted to see. My thoughts were a tangled mess of everything I've been through. He was respectful, never commenting on what he saw, only instructing me calmly to concentrate. When I silently begged him not to tell Hermione—not yet—he promised to keep my secret.
Thinking about my pack, about Sam and Jared with their meek little imprints, I smirk. My witch would fry them alive if they ever had the nerve to say something to her. But then, a sudden worry grips me. What if Sam—or someone else—tried to hurt her to get to me? Would they go that far? No, they wouldn't. At least, I pray for their sake that they never even consider it. My wolf growls in agreement.
No, I'll keep my little witch safe—from any threat, be it vampire or wolf. Just watch me.
A loud banging wakes me. For a second, I struggle to place where I am, my dreams still vivid—Hermione's face, laughing as I chase her along the beach. Severus, trailing after us with his usual scowl, though there's warmth beneath it. Laughter, joy. And then, the insistent pounding on my door shatters it all.
I growl and stalk downstairs, completely naked. Pausing at the door, I spot Sam's face through the window.
"What do you want?" I grumble, not bothering to open it.
He stares at me, his eyes hard. "I just wanted to see how you were," he says, voice clipped, like he doesn't want to admit it.
"Well, you've seen that I'm fine. You can leave now," I say, smirking.
He steps closer, eyes flashing in warning, but I just cross my arms over my chest and stare him down.
He says nothing else—just shakes his head before turning and walking back into the woods toward his house.
I let out a relieved sigh. One asshole dodged. Now, I just have to make it to Hermione without running into anyone else.
I walk back upstairs, grab a pair of basketball shorts, and pick up my phone, scrolling through my mail as I head back down.
I send my witch a good morning text before starting on breakfast. Cracking six eggs into the pan, I frown when I realize I'm out of bacon. With a sigh, I chop up some mushrooms and fry them with onion, adding a splash of soy sauce and a sprinkle of toasted sesame seeds. I slice some bread, spread the mushroom and onion mixture over it, then top it with the eggs.
Groaning in delight at the first bite, I smirk. I'm a fucking genius. In minutes, my plate is empty. I wash the dishes quickly, grinning as I think about Hermione using magic on them yesterday. Man, I wish I had that ability too. That would make my mornings even better. Chuckling to myself, I dry my hands on a towel.
I check my phone. No reply yet.
I hop in the shower, rinse off quickly, then step out and wrap a towel around my waist as I walk to my wardrobe.
Maybe I should ask my little clever witch if she can enchant my clothes to be cooling so I can wear them more often. I have to remember to ask her that.
I grab a simple black T-shirt and the same pair of jeans from yesterday, running the towel over my damp hair.
Before I phased, I had long hair, like the rest of my pack brothers. Another curse of being a wolf. My mother used to say my hair was an extension of myself—of my aspirations, my dreams. It carried my history, and I wore it with pride.
I guess those aspirations and dreams died the moment I became a wolf. In a way, it was fitting that I had to cut it off.
But it still hurt.
I still have it, though—braided and tucked away in a box on the shelf in my wardrobe.
The buzz of my phone snaps me out of my thoughts. I hurry over to my bed and pick it up.
I groan and sit down, shaking my head. That little tease. She's telling me she's about to shower—and that I can come over.
"Sounds like an invitation if you ask me," I mutter under my breath, texting back that I'm on my way.
I don't bother with shoes since I left mine at her house yesterday and jog toward her place. The forest is calm again, but this time, I hear the soft thud of paws hitting the ground. By the sound alone, I can tell it's Leah. When the wind shifts, carrying her scent, I smirk.
"Phase back, you sneaky bitch," I call out, slowing to a walk so she can catch up.
"Where are you going, dipshit?" she asks, smirking at me.
Ever since Leah joined the pack, I've found her entertaining. She always manages to annoy Sam and make the others uncomfortable with her vicious thoughts and taunting comments. She's goaded them into fights more than once, pushing Sam's patience to its limits.
"I'm heading over to Hermione's. You should meet her."
She gives me a doubtful look before shrugging. "Some other day, maybe. I'm not in the mood."
I laugh. "You're never in the mood, Leah."
She grins, waves, and disappears into the bushes. I hear her phase and take off in the opposite direction.
As I step out of the treeline, I see the faint shimmer of the wards—what Hermione calls them. She told me I had to announce myself; otherwise, I wouldn't be able to pass through them. But I doubt some magic can stop me from reaching my imprint.
I walk toward the house, my pulse picking up as I get closer. What if she's right? I take another step, feeling the magic hum and zap against my skin as I pass through. Pausing, I glance back. The shimmer is still there, undisturbed. I grin.
Just as I thought.
I jog up the steps and knock on the door—just to be polite—then let myself in.
Severus sits on the sofa, a thick tome in his hands, one eyebrow raised as he stares at me, mouth curled into a frown.
"No manners, I see," he grumbles, turning back to his book.
I snicker. "Oh, don't mind me. I'm not here for you."
He glares, but I ignore him, my ears tuning in to the sound of running water. I can hear my witch's heartbeat, the soft movements of her hands running over her bare skin. My cock twitches, and I shake my head, smirking as I force my focus elsewhere.
The bitter wizard on the sofa is the perfect distraction.
I stroll over and sit at the other end. "You know, I just ran into Leah on my way here. You two would make a great pair—both such joyful souls." My tone is teasing.
He stiffens, slowly turning his head, dark eyes sharp, mouth set in a thin line. "Is that so?" he sneers, snapping the book shut with a heavy thud. I flinch.
I chuckle, but it's slightly uneasy now. Maybe I pushed too far. I watch as a dark look flickers across his face, but it's gone just as fast. For a brief moment, I think I see disappointment before he masks it with indifference.
"An old man like me with a beautiful woman like her? Certainly, a match made in heaven," he mutters under his breath.
Then he freezes, eyes widening as he realizes I heard him. He stands abruptly, nearly knocking over the book, and rushes upstairs, his door shutting with a soft click.
I sit there, stunned. Does the broody dark wizard fancy Leah?
Before I can dwell on that thought, Hermione's door opens, and it vanishes completely. I look up and smirk as my little witch steps out, moving toward the stairs.
She's wearing a burgundy sweater and dark jeans, her cheeks slightly flushed as she smiles at me. She skips down the steps, and I close the distance quickly, catching her as she reaches the last one.
She jumps me and wraps her legs around my waist, arms around my neck.
"Hi," she mumbles, her voice warm.
I grin, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other gripping her thigh as I carry us back to the sofa.
"Hi there," I murmur, settling her in my lap. She buries her face in my neck, and I close my eyes, inhaling deeply.
My wolf hums with satisfaction.
So do I.
"Did you sleep well?" I ask, running my hand through her slightly damp hair. She hums, a shiver running through her, and I smirk.
"I bet you did, little witch. That little pleasure spike after I left tells me you fell asleep very satisfied," I tease, pulling her closer.
She gasps, lifting her head. "You could feel that?"
I laugh, kissing the top of her head. "Of course I could."
She groans, hiding her face again, and I grin.
"You don't have to be embarrassed," I murmur, my lips against her temple. "If anything, it pleases me to know you took care of yourself since I couldn't help you."
She giggles, finally leaning back to look at me, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright. That spark of mischief is there alongside the fire I've seen before when she looks at me. She bites her lip, fingers trailing over my scalp and down my neck, toying with the collar of my T-shirt.
I reach up, gently pulling her lip free from her teeth, running my thumb over the soft curve of it.
Her eyes darken.
"Did you fall asleep satisfied?" she asks, catching me off guard.
I pause, my thumb still resting against her chin, and she giggles at the look on my face.
Then I grin. "I did, little witch." My voice drops as my thumb drifts back to her lip. "I was thinking about this pretty little mouth."
Her eyes blaze with lust.
And now, I can smell her arousal.
I growl and flip us over, hovering above her small frame on the sofa. Her eyes are hazy with lust as she stares up at me, lips parted, chest rising and falling with every breath.
"Mmm, you smell so fucking good, little witch," I murmur, inhaling deeply. "I want to taste it so bad."
I press soft kisses along her neck, letting my teeth graze her skin. She whimpers, her fingers tightening around my biceps.
"Will you let me taste this wet little pussy?" I whisper in her ear, my voice dark and rough as I grind myself against her crotch.
She nods, but that's not enough.
I grip the nape of her neck, tilting her head so she's forced to meet my gaze. "Say it," I demand, my voice low. "Tell me, and I'll do it right now. Right here."
She shudders, her breath catching as her teeth sink into her lip. Her cheeks flush deeper, hesitation flickering in her eyes.
I can tell she's not used to voicing her wants and needs. That's okay. I'll wait.
And when she does… she's mine.
I lean in, kissing her slowly, teasingly, before catching her bottom lip between my teeth and giving it a soft nip.
"When you're ready," I murmur against her mouth, my voice low and thick with promise, "just tell me… and I'll devour you, little witch."
She blinks up at me, her eyes unfocused, dazed with need
I sit back up, pulling her with me, settling her on my lap again. She snuggles in close, and I close my eyes, just enjoying the warmth of her body, her scent, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.
My mind drifts—unexpectedly—to the leech lover. How can anyone choose to be with someone without a pulse? The thought sends a shudder of unease through me, and I instinctively tighten my hold on my witch, grounding myself in her warmth.
Her soft voice pulls me from my thoughts.
"Do you want to come with me to Forks? I want to check out the locations you pointed out."
I glance down at her and nod. "Yeah, of course. You don't have to ask. Just tell me what you need, and I'll do it." I press a kiss to her forehead.
She leans back, smiling, her eyes glittering with something I can't quite name. I reach up, caressing her cheek, but then pause, my brows furrowing.
Vampires—like us wolves—have an acute sense of smell. Just as their scent lingers wherever they've been, so does mine.
"You need to mask my scent somehow," I murmur. "You said you could do it for yourself, right?"
She nods, and I can tell by the flicker in her eyes that she already knows what I'm thinking.
Gently, I lift her off my lap and set her back on the sofa before standing up.
"I ran into Leah while I was on patrol. Let me call her—see if she can come over." I pull out my phone and dial her number.
"Need rescuing from the wicked witch?" Leah answers, her voice dripping with amusement.
I laugh. "No, not quite. Probably the other way around."
She groans. "I really don't want to hear it. What do you want?"
I fill her in on our plans, and she falls silent on the other end. I wait.
"I'll be there in fifteen," she finally says. "Just need to finish eating." Then she hangs up.
I toss my phone onto the coffee table and throw myself down on the sofa, resting my head in Hermione's lap. She laughs, looking down at me, waiting for an update.
"She'll be here in fifteen," I mumble.
Her fingers thread through my hair, nails scraping gently against my scalp, and I let out a deep, contented moan and breath in, her scent overpowering.
Fuck. I'm so close to her pussy I can almost taste it.
The scent of her arousal teasing me.
I bury my face in her stomach, breathing her in slowly and deeply, trying to focus on something else while we wait.
"20 questions. You start," I mumble, and she laughs softly.
"Favourite spot on the reservation?" she asks, her voice light and teasing.
I chuckle and shrug. "Right here," I reply, grinning when she laughs.
"There's a spot not far from here," I continue. "You can only get to it from the water, and when the tide's low, it's a small cave. I used to spend a lot of time there when I first phased and wanted to be alone."
She hums thoughtfully, not questioning me about why I wanted solitude. I know she leaves it alone because she doesn't want to pry, and I appreciate that more than I can say. I'll tell her more—another day.
"Do you have any siblings?" I ask
She shakes her head. "No. But I always wanted one. It would've been nice to grow up with someone... someone like me, you know? To share memories with."
I nod, understanding exactly what she means. Having a sibling might've eased the loneliness, made it feel a little less heavy.
"Top three movies?" she asks, and I let out a relieved breath that she's keeping the questions light.
"That's a tough one," I say, trying to focus, but her fingers still running through my hair makes it hard to concentrate.
"Fight Club, The Lord of the Rings trilogy—"
She opens her mouth to protest, but I cut her off. "Nooo, they count as one."
She sticks her tongue out at me, and I laugh.
"And the last one?" she asks, a smile playing at her lips.
"The Lion King," I reply, and she giggles but nods.
"Great choice. I love Disney," she says with a grin.
A distant howl interrupts our moment, and I quickly get up, holding out my hand for her. She takes it, and we step out onto the porch.
Hermione lowers the wards, and I see Leah hesitate for a moment before walking toward us.
"Phase back!" I call, pointing to the garage. Leah disappears from view for a few seconds, then reappears, now fully human.
"Judging by the way you stand in front of her, shielding her from me, I'd guess you've fallen into the imprint trap. Am I right?" she sneers, her eyes eyes hard and sad at the same time.
I just nod, and she sighs, her gaze shifting out toward the ocean. I can see the struggle in her eyes.
Hermione makes a move to get past me, but I stop her.
"If anyone deserves it, it's you," Leah mutters quietly. I rub the back of my head awkwardly, unsure how to respond.
"Tell anyone I said that, and I'll castrate you!" she growls, but there's no real malice in her tone.
I hear Hermione giggle behind me, and I see Leah's mouth twitch into a smile at the sound.
"Are you done now? Can I say hi?" Hermione asks, a bit annoyed. Leah laughs and I step aside, letting her move past me.
"Hi. Nice to meet you under more relaxed circumstances," Hermione says, offering a warm smile.
Leah laughs, nodding her head. "Yeah, council meetings with a bunch of idiots with restricted minds aren't exactly my idea of fun," she jokes, and Hermione laughs in response.
"What do you need me for?" Leah asks, and I quickly fill her in on our problem and how we need her help to trace my scent.
She looks intrigued and nods.
Hermione continues "Okay, so I'll cast the spell over Paul while you're inside. He'll run into the forest, and you can try to find him."
Leah heads inside the house, and I hear her settle onto the sofa. I nod to Hermione.
She pulls out her wand and casts a spell over me. It feels like a cold gust of wind, and then it's gone.
"Okay, I'll give her five minutes. That's how long it should take for her to find me if shes able to smell me," I say, heading toward the forest.
I move in a zigzag pattern through the dense woods, my senses sharp, my heart racing. After a while, I stop, find a cedar tree, and climb it, waiting in silence.
I know she's going to hear me once she gets close but if the spell works, she will have no clue to tell her in which direction I went.
I count the minutes in my head and once I reach five, I climb down and head back towards Hermione.
I see her on the porch looking down at her phone, I let out a high whistle and wait for Leah to join me. A few minutes later she comes running. I gesture for Hermione to lower the wards and we make our way towards her.
Leah disappears behind the garage and as I move towards my witch, her eyes curious
Leah jogs up to the house, now back in human form, and punches me in the shoulder as she passes by. Without another word, she climbs the stairs and drops onto the lounge sofa.
"It worked. I couldn't tell which way he ran—I got lost tracking his old scents," she says, her eyes alight with both excitement and frustration at her failure.
Hermione beams, her expression mirroring Leah's energy. She moves to sit beside her, but I stop her.
"It's cold. Let's go inside—I don't want you getting sick," I grumble, glancing at her bare feet.
Leah laughs, draping an arm around Hermione's shoulders.
"I hope you like having a protective asshole for a boyfriend, girl. This one's going to treat you like a princess," she teases.
Hermione blushes, glancing up at me as she walks past. I wink at her, and she ducks her head with a smile.
Leah sprawls out on the sofa, stretching comfortably. I motion for Hermione to sit, but instead, she picks up a pencil from the table. In an instant, it transforms into a plush armchair.
I glance up and notice Severus's door cracked open just an inch. I smirk, knowing he's up there listening—too much of a coward to come down.
"Hey, Leah," I say casually. "Why don't you just stay here while Hermione and I head to Forks? No one from the pack will bother you here."
Leah gives me a look that clearly says, Are you stupid? But before she can voice her thoughts, Hermione speaks up.
"Yes, please stay! Or at least come back later for dinner? I'd love to get to know you better."
Leah hesitates, studying Hermione for a moment before sighing and sinking further into the couch.
"Sure. I don't have anything better to do anyway. You better stock up on food, though. If I get bored, I'll eat whatever you have," she grumbles.
Hermione laughs. "That's more than okay."
I grab my shoes, pull them on, and hand Hermione her coat as she finishes packing her tote bag with maps and notes.
Just before we leave, she calls over her shoulder, "Oh, right—Severus is home, so don't freak out if he comes downstairs."
I smirk at Leah over Hermione's head and shut the door before Leah can respond.
Outside, I take the tote bag and grab my little witch's hand as we head to the car. I walk to the passenger side, and she grins as she climbs into the driver's seat.
She starts the engine, letting it warm up for a few minutes before backing out. Tossing me her phone, she says, "Put on some music."
I glance at the screen and burst out laughing.
"What?" she asks, throwing me a quick glance before focusing on the road.
"The grumpy wizard sent you a text: How is it in any way acceptable to leave a stranger alone in the house and just leave?"
She giggles, shaking her head. "Tell him she's not alone—she has him for company."
Still laughing, I type out her response and send the text before putting her phone down.
We spend the drive to Forks playing 20 questions, keeping the conversation light and playful.
"Are you serious you've never been outside the U.S.?" she asks, shooting me a quick glance.
I shrug. "Yeah. I've been to Canada a few times when we had to chase a vampire off the rez, but other than that, nope."
She pauses, then blushes. "Sorry, I shouldn't be so shocked. Not everyone dreams of traveling."
I wave her off. "Don't apologize. If I had the chance, I'd go. But, you know, little problem—the whole turning-into-a-wolf thing. I'm not exactly allowed to leave."
Her small hand reaches over, wrapping around mine.
"Now I feel even worse," she murmurs. "It was ignorant of me to just blurt that out."
I squeeze her hand. "It's okay, little witch. I have a feeling the rules are gonna change now that you've set foot on U.S. soil."
She smirks. "Damn right. You can bet on it."
I ask Hermione which countries she's traveled to and which one was her favorite.
"I love Greece," she says, her face lighting up at the question. "You would love the food—it's absolutely delicious!"
She laughs as my stomach growls at the mention of food.
"Let's get this done quickly, and then we can grab some lunch before heading to the store," she adds, smiling.
My wolf purrs—not just at her consideration for my need to eat, but because she wants to spend more time with me, just the two of us.
As we approach the border between La Push and Forks, I tell her to slow down. "We're about to pass the Swans' house," I explain.
She nods, her face turning serious, and I can't help but smile. She's so cute when she does this—pursing her pouty lips, her eyes bright with laser focus. It's adorable.
I scoff at myself, but it's true.
I point to the house as we pass. She slows down, taking it in.
"There's a lot of forest behind the house, and it's comfortably close to the reservation," she muses. "This might be a good meeting spot."
I nod in agreement and direct her to a small dirt road a few blocks down. When she parks and shuts off the car, she turns toward me, and I can tell by the way her pulse races that she's nervous.
"Okay, the spell should still be good, but I'm going to cast it again just to be safe," she says.
A familiar cold breeze washes over me as she casts the spell. I nod.
"Is there anything else you want to do as a safety precaution?" I ask, letting her take the lead so she feels more comfortable.
She nods, unbuckling her seatbelt. "I'm going to cast the same spell on myself and then a Disillusionment Charm. I don't want anyone noticing us wandering around in the woods behind the house and spreading the word."
I frown. "What does that charm do?"
She smiles sheepishly, as if she momentarily forgot I'm not used to her magic.
"It makes us blend in with the environment—like a chameleon. If people don't know we're here, they won't look for us."
My mouth falls open. "That's cool… but also kind of creepy."
She giggles, then casts the scent-masking spell before putting the Disillusionment Charm on both of us.
I blink as she fades into the car seat. "What the—" I mutter.
If I didn't know she was sitting next to me, I wouldn't have seen her at all.
We step out of the car, and I nearly jump when I feel her grab my hand. She stifles a laugh.
"Sorry," she whispers.
We move toward the forest, silent and cautious. She surprises me with how agile and sure-footed she is, never stumbling or making a sound. She effortlessly avoids dry branches, slipping through the trees like she's done this a hundred times before. I'll have to ask her about that later.
I stop and whisper, "The house is to your left, a bit further ahead. We should be able to see the backyard from here."
She hums in acknowledgment, and we continue, scouting for a clearing or an open space that would be suitable for a meeting.
Since stepping into the woods, I've had to fight the overwhelming urge to grab Hermione and run back to the car. The stench of leeches lingers here—it's thick, suffocating. They're here frequently. Probably keeping an eye on the Chief.
About a mile from the house, the forest begins to thin. Soon, we step into a small clearing. I hear the faint ripple of water nearby and the occasional chirp of birds, but otherwise, it's eerily silent. The wildlife knows the scent of a predator. The leeches have tainted this place.
We circle the clearing, making sure there are no blind spots or areas where we could get trapped.
"Okay, I've seen enough. Next time, I can Apparate directly here now that I know the location," Hermione whispers.
I squeeze her hand. I have no idea what that means, but I can ask her later.
We turn to head back when I hear it—something moving toward us. My body goes rigid, muscles coiling, and I feel the tremor of an impending shift.
"There's something coming," I whisper, barely moving my lips.
Hermione lets out a shaky breath.
"Muffliato," she murmurs, squeezing my hand. "I placed a spell to block most of the sounds we make. Don't let go of my hand."
I squeeze back in confirmation.
The sound moves fast—unnaturally fast. I know what that means.
Vampire.
I steady my breathing, forcing myself to stay in control. I have to trust Hermione. I have to trust her magic.
She moves closer, wrapping her arm around my waist. We stay perfectly still, watching, listening. My wolf snarls in the back of my mind, but surprisingly, he remains calm. We trust our imprint.
I blink, and when I open my eyes, I see it—a shadow in the treeline.
Then the smell hits me.
It's nauseating. Rotting flesh, sickly sweet.
The vampire steps into the clearing, slow and deliberate. Hermione holds her breath.
Now, we'll see if her magic truly works.
The leech is male, maybe 5'9", slim. Scars—jagged, silvery, unmistakable vampire bites—mark his face and neck.
Then he turns his head.
Looks straight at us.
Blood-red eyes locking onto where we stand.
.
.
.
.
Dun dun duuun…
Do you think Hermione's spells are working, or can the vampire see, smell, or hear them?
Finally, Leah is in the game!
I love her character—I always felt like she didn't get enough space in the books or movies.
And what's up with Severus? Something is definitely going on with him...
Hope you enjoyed this chapter!