𝔟𝔲𝔯𝔫𝔢𝔡 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔡𝔬𝔴𝔰 | 𝔣. 𝔴𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔶

4.

At two o'clock in the morning, Elin was outside of Fred Weasley's bedroom window, Hestia gripped in one hand. The blade was a lot more thicker and wider than Athena, a different gem situated in the cross guard above the hilt. The gem, an amethyst, was the reason for it being one of her favourites, the purple crystal beautiful as it glinted in the moonlight.

Her dark hair was pulled tightly into a high-ponytail, the hood of her coat covering her features as she peered inside. The wine fabric flapped in the wood, accompanied by her usual black gear.

Inside, the light from outside was dim, making it difficult for her to precisely find where the Weasley boy lay. After a few moments, and a kicking of his pale leg out from under the duvet, her eyes adjusted to the night and studied him and his room carefully, cautiously aware that she had yet to reach a decision whether she should kill him. Or she should let him live.

It was so easy. He was right there, defenseless, unsuspecting of her weary eyes. His ginger hair was ruffled by the constant moving of his head against the pillow, his face lay peaceful, the ghost of a smile on his lips. He lay under a deep red duvet, the bed only a few inches to the left of the window.

Everywhere else was completely blind to her. Her focus was on him, his deep breathing, his moment of peace, the dark wooden structure of his bed, the clattered pile of thin books lying on the floor beside the bed, an old coffee mug not far from him. He was the owner of a thriving business and he couldn't bother to get a nightstand.

She rolled her eyes at the thought, before the knife clutched in her right hand caught the corner of her honey eye.

This should be a mission like every other, if it wasn't for the fact that she had taken on the role of judge and jury. It irritated her, the interaction she had with him further than a name, place and a price.

Her head had run through the pros and cons so frequently that they didn't aid her anymore, instead like a poem memorized at the back of her head as she had in her early school days. She was stuck at a complete cross-roads, unlike the usually decisive version of her but she had also never been put in a situation quite like this one.

The biggest thing that made her question the plan was knowing Ambroos would likely find his death in the Daily Prophet and simply question why she wasn't beyond upset or, even worse, she would have to pretend to be upset and attend the funeral and wake where she would have to face all those that loved him. It was horrifying. She wished it could be a simple kill, like every other one, and never face them again, like every other kill.

There was also the fact that she couldn't be certain he told nobody. Hypothetically, if he was found murdered in the morning and it was only a few nights ago that he was talking about the girl walking around late at night with a cow's heart, that was the end for her. Only an idiot wouldn't put the two together and when they inevitably would, she would be hunted to the ends of the earth, by aurors, by loved ones, by the hundreds of people she had hurt for the right price.

The thought was so overwhelming that she turned away from him.

That was what stopped her.

Those were the reasons that she couldn't go through with driving her blade through his heart.

It was shoved back into the space at the small of her back. The streets were dead silent as she carved her path along the rooftops, focusing only on the balance of her feet on some of the more difficult houses and the breath filling her lungs.

Perhaps she had a more hectic and violent job than most but she found that it was place she found herself most at peace. It was peculiar and something she often found herself laughing at the irony of but it was true. It brought her tired bones with a new found energy, all tension gone and calmness easing through the blood in her veins. It was indescribable but one of the best feelings in her heart, like she had found a home in the darkness and they became one with each other.