𝗢𝗺𝗻𝗶𝗮 𝗠𝘂𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘂𝗿, 𝗡𝗶𝗵𝗶𝗹 𝗜𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗶𝘁. - 𝗘𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝘀, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗹𝘆 𝗹𝗼𝘀𝘁.

...

When she was about to knock on the door, someone opened it from the inside.

It was a group of handsome young men who wore black cloaks with green underneath. They radiated an aura that gave Fiona a vast sense of danger, and everything in her wanted to run away.

She was petrified for a moment, because she was one-hundred percent sure that those were the Slytherin uniforms from Harry-fucking-Potter. Either these guys were real geeks or hardcore cosplayers. Or maybe she was hallucinating everything?

Before she could continue any of her thoughts, one of the guys came forward and asked, "Miss Zabini, what do you think you are doing going out past curfew?"

He was admittedly very handsome with his perfect, sharp jawline, muscular body, and dark brown hair, which shone in the moonlight. He looked at her without emotion,which only added to her uneasiness. Something about him was unsettling, but she couldn't pinpoint what.

Fiona was still too shocked to answer as they stared at her intensely. Some of them even had the audacity to check her out, their lecherous eyes looking at her legs for far too long for her taste.

By this point, she was ready to give in to her instincts and get the hell away from these freaks. With a hasty recovery, she replied, "I think I am at the wrong house - castle, whatever. Sorry for any disturbance."

She turned around quickly, and was about to escape, but someone grabbed her wrist swiftly and pulled her into an unknown, muscular chest. Her face was buried there for a few seconds before she looked up to that person's face.

She ought to create as much space as possible between them, attempting to push him away, but one of his arms was around her small waist as he pressed his large form against her small body.

It was a man who looked like he was at the same age as her, easily able to pass as a Targaryen from Game of Thrones.

But those eyes -- she could easily fall in love with those stunning light gray eyes which reminded her of a restless stormy night. If only there wasn't a sadistic gleam in them.

A shiver ran down Fiona's back. She tried to pull her wrist back again, but the mysterious man merely squeezed harder, so much that she twisted her face in pain.

She wanted to give him a piece of her mind, but he spoke up first in a deep, baritone voice.

"Fiona, what are you doing out so late? Have you lost your mind?" he asked, an undertone of anger obvious in the inquiry.

She looked him in the eyes, confused and not responding. Something in his face became darker, now brimming with uncontrolled rage. "Why are you also wearing such indecent clothes at this questionable hour?"

He came so close that she felt his hot breath on her face and whispered in her ear, "This is not over, we will talk about it later and you will be punished accordingly."

Terror ran through her veins, instincts continuing to scream at her to run. But deep inside her bones, she knew there would be no escape. The worst thing? Fiona didn't even know why she was feeling this way.

She was intoxicated, sleepy, and only wanted to lie down in her big, comfy bed.

"Who the fuck are these creeps? Why are they dressed so oddly? Were they in a cult?" Her thoughts flew a million miles a second, panic only growing with each one that came across her mind. She thought for sure she would have a mental breakdown.

Fiona was still so caught up in her trance that she didn't notice what the Targaryen look alike was saying to the rest of the group of young men.

She just heard it all in fractions, like "my dear fiancé" and "not coming" and "Dumbledore", and this is what caused the realization to finally come to her that she was somehow in the Harry Potter universe.

That was the only logical explanation for her situation right now. The person in front of her, who was dragging her away from the rest of the group, must be a Malfoy.

She gasped, shocked, as she realized that the person who had spoken to her first was Tom Riddle - the future Dark Lord, aka Lord Voldemort. The fact that they knew her name and called her Zabini had completely escaped her mind.

This had to be a nightmare. Fiona still refused to believe that she was really in the Harry Potter universe. Otherwise, how would it even be possible?

Alas, the evidence was overwhelming, and embarrassingly, she fell unconscious.

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08/08/2021 Edited by yeosangelic

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