The Slytherin Common Room - D.M. ✔️

ᴘᴀʀᴛ 67

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Y/N Y/L/N

As soon as you returned to Hogwarts after enduring hell, time flew by much faster than you would've expected. The rest of January and February went by within a blink. The two months were spent writing vague letters to Voldemort, revealing enough but not too much.

Gradually you began to close yourself off. The group that had just begin to reunite fell right back apart. The only person you spent time with recently was Theo. You were only ever with him if you were with anybody. At first, it was awkward getting back to hanging out with Theo considering everything that had happened since before Christmas Holiday. However, things slowly set back to their usual pace. 

Every day was spent with Theo, usually in comforting silence. When the two of you did talk, it was all gentle and soft. Like both of you were walking on eggshells around each other. It bothered you that there was a limit to how close you could get with Theo, but you dealt with it.

You could speak up if you wanted, but you didn't want to. If you began to complain, you were afraid Theo would leave, and currently, he was the only person you confided in. The idea of losing yet another person seemed so frightening you just kept your mouth shut.

Once a week, you wrote a letter and sent it to the Malfoy Manor for Voldemort. It was now March, and there was still no sign from Voldemort on what to do next. Well, at least, you didn't receive any notice of signs. You hadn't heard anything since Christmas Holidays.

Signs of a brewing war were everywhere, and everybody at Hogwarts seemed to be on edge, which is only fair. It now only dawned on everyone that without Dumbledore, nothing would be stopping Voldemort. When you stopped to realize this, it was about the only time you wished he was alive and not dead in a grave.

You never necessarily cared for Dumbledore. But in moments where he seemed to be the only way to win, it was hard to not wish he was here. You hadn't seen anybody who was in the Order around school, Ginny, Neville, Luna, but it's not like you went out looking. And you were sure they heard the recent news of you becoming a Death Eater.

A Death Eater.

Sometimes you'd forget, and in those moments, you felt your best. Except for a moment later, your eyes found their way to look down at your arm, and instantly a thick fog of suffocation clouded around you. Both you and Theo suffered from the ink in your arms, but neither of you talked about it properly. It was fear, taboo, nobody wanted to talk about, because in the very end, nobody even wanted it.

Most of your time was spent getting lost in thought, thinking of thousands of ways your life would end. Sometimes if it got too dark when you've returned back to reality, you found yourself shaking.

Some endings were if Harry won, others if Voldemort did. Some were happy, others were sad. Some included Theo, some didn't. Some included Draco, most didn't. Death is inevitable, but you'd think about how you'd meet it. In war? Old age? An unforgivable curse? You didn't like thinking about it for too long.

Schoolwork was the last thing on your mind even though, technically, NEWTs were coming up. All the teachers did their best to remind you of the exams, but even they seemed weary in the seats. They drowned you in homework that you never did, possibly to distract from the Daily Prophet and talk of war.

When you worked on your letters, you sat at your desk for hours figuring out the best way to write what they'd want to hear. Once your owl had been sent off and then you'd proceed to look down at your fingers, they were always stained with ink.

Your father's ring lays beside a framed picture of you and your parents together smiling, only you've flipped the portrait around. You still couldn't find the nerve to put the ring on, but you still wanted it insight.