The Gifted

Chapter 28: Act 6

The diner's pay is less than stellar. Draco stared impassively at the measly $150 that they earned in that week put together. Estella sighed, rubbing her hand over her face, smudging her eyeliner across her cheek. Seth had left a small book while they slept, full of basic spells that Draco had turned his nose up at. When they weren't working in the diner, Estella was either teaching him muggle music and technology or practicing magic.

"I'll work some extra shifts. Don't worry about it." She reassured her little brother. His pale eyes, lined with dark circles, stared at her defiantly. "As if I'd allow you to work even more when your stomach still bleeds when you reach too far." 

The runes over Estella's core continued to flare in pain daily, irritating the self induced scratches that were refusing to heal. Black veins lined the injury as if infected.

She supposed she'd deserved it for dragging Draco across the multiverse. The poor boy hasn't had a proper nights rest since their kidnapping. His pale skin's gone flat and pale, and his eyes hung as heavy as his shoulders. 

Guilt gnawed at her gut, and what little hope she had left of their chances of making it home on their own began to crumble. 

They'd been in this world for a week and a half. Every passing day is harder on their bodies. Draco, unused to working and being away from his magic filled environment frankly stressed him out. He missed his friends, and his mother. Maybe his father too.

Estella knew how he felt. The absence of her connection to The Gods, and Jeremy and Caroline being too busy to call with Klaus coming to town, she feels like there's a hole in her chest. She's always been used to being alone. Now she feels alone, guilty, and responsible for her brother's stress.

He'd already worked himself up over his father's attempts of coaxing him into deceiving Estella, and Voldemort's inevitable return. 

"Go to bed. I'll cover your shift in the morning." Draco offers with a half smile. A dimple appeared on his cheek but his eyes were dull, near void of emotion. "You're exhausted, Draco... You need the extra sleep more than I do. I'll work tomorrow, you'll be rested when i get back, and then we can go get some clothes, alright?" The boy chewed on his lip and reluctantly agreed. Estella was technically dead, while she could feel fatigue, hunger, and pain, she didn't need anything but her connection to Tartarus to stay alive. 

Settling into the comfortable bed, Draco sighed, murmuring a quiet 'goodnight' to Estella. 

Muffled footsteps lead to the conjoining room, pattering against the carpet. She entered her bathroom and looked in the mirror, grimacing at her own bruised eyes. The previously bright dual toned eyes were murky. Her flushed cheeks were sunken and pale with a streak of eyeliner disrupting the lack of valor. Her skin so light that veins peaked at the corner of her temples, leading to her eyelids. 

The sight was depressing.

Mustard yellow wasn't her best color. Brown buttons led up to her throat, securing the diner's uniform to her body. She wondered if she'd be able to dye it another color without being fired.

40 minutes of scalding water later, Estella felt clean enough to lay down and close her eyes.

No sleep came to her that night.  Her restless mind raced  through every scenario on getting back to Hogwarts, however, not a single one could be accomplished without either finding another witch, breaking the seals over their cores, or gaining their magic back. 

A chime jingled from her phone at an early 4 am, mercilessly insisting that she leaves the comfort of her bed. Slowly, she made her way to the bathroom once more, fishing out what little makeup she owns to cover her corpse-like skin. Tight-lining her waterline, she whispers swears as her eyes mist over. Aggressively fanning her face with her hand, Estella refused for her make-up to run.