integrity ━━ george weasley

-33 || Evangeline

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xxxiii. THIRTY-THREE

EVANGELINE

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             THERE WAS NOTHING THAT MELORA COULD SEE. Wherever she was, whoever she was with, she had no idea. Instead, she felt herself standing, in what appeared to be a room with no lights, and no windows, either. She was starting to panic just a small amount - why couldn't she see? And the only noise that greeted her was silence, which she didn't like at all.

     Then, rather abruptly, a soft voice called out a name. But whoever they were addressing was not her. "Evangeline," they called out, almost sounding as though they were giving out a command. "Little Eve."

     Melora wasn't sure whether or not she should continue to be fearful or if she should allow her curiosity to take over. She was beyond confused, to tell the truth. Who was Evangeline? And, more to the point, who did the voice belong to? For some reason, she recognised it, but she couldn't tell who it belonged to.

     "My darling Evie," they said again, sounding tearful as they continued to speak. "You'll be safe at home, now. Why did you run away from us?"

      She felt a sharp pang of guilt. It was almost as though someone had taken a firm grip of her gut and twisted it, tried to knot it several times, before releasing and then restarting the process. And for what reason? She'd done the exact same thing to her own parents. Why she was hearing of Evangeline, she was still confused over, but she knew that this story linked to her own.

       Perhaps, she thought, this is some sort of warning for me. I did this exact same thing to my parents. Is this some sort of dream that holds a message for me?

       "You don't have to stay with them, darling."

       She nearly choked on her own breath for a moment. Was that not exactly what people had been telling Melora all year? Since returning to Malfoy Manor, her life had been incredibly stressful, and she couldn't blame herself for being in such an odd state of mind.

       However, her world of darkness suddenly came into colour, and she found herself walking out of the Great Hall, towards the doors, where she stopped. Melora blinked, and nearly screamed out of pure horror. For there, in front of her, was herself. It was not a reflection in a mirror, or water, or a window. There was herself, in human form, before her. Out of habit, she scowled at it. As she did so, the second version of herself changed, and appeared as a girl with hair of a bubble-gum shade.

       She could have laughed.

       "Of course, Tonks," she scoffed at her cousin, watching as she rolled her eyes. Melora was finding amusement within their argument, however. "You petty little Hufflepuff."

        Tonks frowned at her. "Of course, Lestrange. Can you not act without showing off? Is it always a fake show for the other Slytherins, Melora?"

        She narrowed her eyes even more than she already was, which was surprising. Before her, Tonks was mirroring her expression (she couldn't tell whether it was because she was trying to anger Melora, or purely because she was annoyed herself).

       "It isn't a fake show," she spat at her cousin. "In fact, I'm rather proud to be who I am. You should be ashamed; another Black has gone to the dirt."

        Tonks laughed. "You Blacks were all dirt before. You're just so caked in it, you can't even realise."

        Melora exhaled heavily, and angrily. She rolled her eyes at Tonks and her immature attitude towards pure-bloods. "Speaking of dirt, you have some all down your robes. I'm surprised Sprout hasn't banned you from the greenhouses for the destruction you cause."

        Melora's memory faded quite suddenly, and she was reunited with the black room. She wasn't particularly fearful over it anymore; getting away from her horrendous second-year memories was something she'd call relief.

       There was a brief pause, before the voice spoke again. Yet, this time, it was much more strained and hiss-y. It had lost the warmth to it, and suddenly sounded far more harsh and cold. Melora tensed after the first few words. It was worringly recognisable, and she hated not knowing who it belonged to.

        "I'll be back," they said, almost in a hiss. "Narcissa will look after you whilst I'm gone. She'll make sure that you're a great witch, my little girl."