THE FURIES ▸ Draco Malfoy

Chapter One: CHAOS

Alastiare Erebus was a man of many names, but the world was only interested in one: Death Eater. Who he was before the moment he received the Dark Mark no longer mattered to people, as he had made the decision at the age of twenty to side with Voldemort on his mission of blood purity and everything after that was an atrocity. He was thrown into the mix of madness, where biased beliefs controlled his motives and what he believed was right. The papers never asked questions about his involvement, barely knew who he was beyond the mask that he wore. They never considered that he had a wife—Celicia, the woman that he met when they were only eleven and sat next to one another their first year of Hogwarts. He loved her. He truly did. Spending so long getting to know someone, living and learning among them, would create a connection between anyone.

It was only rather unfortunate that the compassion he showed her wasn't allowed to overrule how loyal he was to his Lord, a wizard that had been a nonexistent part of the Erebus family's lives until suddenly he was again. This time, it wasn't just Celicia that watched Alastiare's compassion slowly drip out of his willingness to care, detoxing him of everything that he had given to his family in the years of the Dark Lord's absence. Alastiare had become a stranger to his wife in a matter of months following the news of Voldemort's return. Celicia Erebus wasn't the one who spent nights crying over his growing distance, though. No, all of her tears had been spilled the first time that the Voldemort rose and her husband followed along.

Instead, it was a young girl. A little girl that was only just growing up to understand the good and bad of being a witch. A little girl that had always been given much more than anyone else in her school suddenly felt loss for the first time. Andromeda Erebus knew that her family was not as loving as some of the others she knew of. Affection was not as common as it may have been in a half-blood or muggle-born family. She did not run up to her father when he returned home to give him hugs, and she did not go to her mother when she wanted to cry until she drowned in her own tears—but, even with that lack of affection, she still had enough to be satisfied with her life. Then, things began to change. Her father would ignore her greetings, would avoid eye-contact, disappear late at night. It went to the extent of him missing her fifteenth birthday, something that she took pride in pretending didn't affect her.

Gradually, as her father changed, so did she. Her words molded into sharp icicles and were often only covered by a smile that she learned to express once offending someone unknowingly. Her intolerance to the meetings her father dragged her to became an oppressive pain, and Andromeda found comfort in the corners of large manors alongside other pureblood children. The only thing that she ever gained out of those long nights was a developing skill of reading those in the room, questioning what they might be thinking or how they truly feel about those they're conversing with. The beautiful society that she assumed was perfect as a child grew darker as more deceit was exposed to her, and somewhere in between the scandal and lies, she lost trust in people. That left her heart cold to anyone she did not hold with one hand.

Andromeda and Draco Malfoy met long before Hogwarts was ever a part of their lives. With the close ties that Alastiare and Lucius had to each other through a cause less than saintly, it only made sense for their children to be just as closely connected to another pureblood family. So, Andromeda and Draco learned to live around the other's presence. They learned to respect each other, Andromeda that Draco was an insufferable, babbling baby on most days and Draco that Andromeda always looked ready to concoct something mercilessly with a smile. He knew he would rather it not be him, which is why they were courteous to each other when they had to be, acknowledged entrances with nods, and grew up around each other in the house of Slytherin for many years with no problems. Their conversations were particularly dull and respectful, Draco never going to the length of insulting her like he did so many others and Andromeda keeping her remarks about Pansy Parkinson to a minimum, never once stepping the boundary of commenting on their unhealthy relationship.