Atheyas

𝟑𝟖: 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊

               Atheyas' eyes fluttered open as she tried to take in the world of grey and dull blurry greenish hues. She had a dreadful headache and groaned, touching her head. Beside her, Regulus laid. His eyes closed. She reached for his hand, gently brushing them over with hers. "Finally awake, I see. I was getting bored." Gray eyes stared at her coldly from a pale-looking face at a far distance. She scrambled to stand upright, forcing the pain in her leg to the back of her mind whilst drawing her wand. "I'd slow down if I were you, Atheyas." She walked towards him, observing her surroundings. 

            "I've kept my side of the deal. Now, you keep yours." It seemed a battle had taken place. Bodies lay everywhere. Some she recognized from The Order and some from The Deatheaters. The carpet was shredded in places, the courtroom tables were turned upside down and all over the place. Even the throne was disfigured and stained with blood. Perhaps that's why Voldemort was in such a pathetic state. "Release the boy," he ordered. He sat on his throne, tired and weak. It looked like his energy had been sucked out from him by a Dementor. Yet, he still looked proud. This would be an easy kill. An easy target. Once she got Sirius, she would make her move.

             "You're really like your mother, aren't you?" Atheyas stiffened at the mention of her mother. He had caught her off guard. "What do you mean?" The moment that question poured out of her mouth, she regretted it. All this while, she was searching for an answer and now when she was going to get it, she didn't want to hear it. "Dheyanhera Rigel Alden. That's your real name, isn't it?" Her name sounded ugly rolling out of his vile tongue. "How did you find out?" she asked through clenched teeth. 

              "Did you really take me for an imbecile? The day you stepped foot in my court, I recognized you instantly. The resemblance between you and your mother was uncanny." Memories of her mother had started to flood her mind. It was true. When she was younger, everyone had told her that she looked just like her mother. And she couldn't be more proud. "You radiated her aura. Beautiful, intelligent, strong..." Voldemort groaned as he pushed himself to sit up. "Stubborn, may I add. So, I had my, -what do you call it?" She clenched her wand harder, desperate to not lose control. "Minion," she answered.

               "Ah, yes. Minion. I had him do all the snooping around. Dumbledore should really start securing his office better. Besides, I'm sure you know my minion." She didn't care. She only wanted reprisal. She wanted her hands to be stained with red. And then she wanted to get out of here. Forget it all ever happened. "Then when I suspected you were a Hera, I tried to kill you on countless occasions. Poison but your body kept rejecting it. Now, I'm tired. And so are you. Why don't we just cut to the chase?" But before Voldemort could attack her, Atheyas had already seen it coming. "Expelliarmus!" she yelled, disarming him.

                Not giving him a chance to retrieve back his wand, she quickly kicked it to the side and pounced herself onto him. Her hand wrapped around his throat, squeezing the air out of his esophagus while another hand, dug her wand deep into his neck. She could kill him this instant but she wanted to appreciate this moment of glory. "What did you say, Voldemort? That we're more alike than I know," she let out a dry cackle of someone who had outlived her enemies. "Oh, I know but guess what?" She tightened her grip on his throat, bring her face closer to his. 

               "I'm worse." Her words struck like thunder; ominous and commanding. He had tried to rein her in to contain the power she possessed but she was never under his control. A precious gift from heaven but his worst nightmare from the depths of hell. "The Potters are dead," a well-known voice confirmed. Her cockiness went away as soon as she heard those four words. She turned around to see James and Lily's secret keeper. Peter Pettigrew. His blonde hair was disheveled and his face showed no remorse. She turned back to face Voldemort. "It can't be. This wasn't part of the deal."