Savagely
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Summary
The spell leaves her mouth before she can stop it. Finite Incantatem.
A flicker. A fracturing ripple. The air warps, and for a breathless, disbelieving heartbeat, she sees them - wings, raw and blood-slick, the skin around them grey and wasting. Bone pushing through where no bone should.
She understands in the split-second before Malfoy turns around in horror, wand raised, wordlessly reanimating the Glamour charm: he has wings.
And it's a death sentence.
Bookmarked by Savagely
03 Sep 2025