No. No. No. No.
It seemed implausible that such a thing could be happening. Reality had never felt further.
Her palms were scuffed with the mud from the ground below, knees covered in bloody grazes. Her chest writhed in pain, lungs overexerted with the oxygen that she couldn't manage to intake.
It didn't take an expert to realise what she was doing there. To know why she had been portkeyed to the other side of the grounds.
The castle was still in view, beside her was the Black Lake, the water dull under the clouds that covered the night sky.
But she was too far away from any sign of life. If she tried to scream, surely no one would hear her. The Quidditch stadium was a few hundred feet to her right, but it was unlikely anyone would be able to hear. It wouldn't be worth the risk. Perhaps a Centaur would hear her from the Forbidden Forest—a ridiculous thought really when considering the majority despise Wizard folks.
"Ah. Good. You received my note," Lucius Malfoy sneered.
She refused to look up at his face, already feeling repulsed by imagining the smug look on his expression.
She dug her palms into the ground, struggling to get herself up steadily. She stumbled on her feet, wincing, but maintained a heavy footing.
"Athena Greene, yes?" he grinned. "Or would you prefer if I called you Rivière? That is your real name after all."
She said nothing, glaring at him, but not meeting his eyes. Refusing to.
"Well?" he scowled, impatiently.
"Why have you brought me here?" she blurted, already knowing the answer, but begging to be mistaken. All she could think was—how?
How did he get out of Azkaban? How did he find her? How does he know?
His face curled with menace, but appeared utterly entertained. "Oh—I think you may already have an idea."
She made no reply, but forced her eyes to his, glaring so intensely, masking her fear. Not allowing any sign of terror to falter in her expression. She would not give him the satisfaction.
His hair was whiter, almost archaic, and his face was lined with distress—the time spent in Azkaban prominently displayed upon his countenance.
It threw her off guard when she noticed how alike his eyes were to Draco's. Both silver, grey with darker shades interweaved within. Only Lucius's were old, grieved, evil. They were alike, yet so very different. In fact, not at all similar the more she looked at them.
"Weren't you locked up in Azkaban?" she spat.
"I was, yes. But I have been released as of this evening. You see, I'm paying a debt to the Dark Lord—a chance to redeem my past mistakes. In order to do so, my lord has assigned me with a task, and of course I would not refuse," he explained, implication in his tone.
When she said nothing, he continued.
"Your father made that mistake and of course...he paid the price."
"My father was never loyal to the Dark Lord. It was you who forced him there. It was you who lied to him. Everything he did was to protect himself—to protect my mother—to protect me."
"Yes, I remember," he condescended. "Once the Dark Lord vanished, and Atticus was free to bring his pathetic little family out of hiding, he ought to have known that was the biggest mistake he could have made."
A sinful chuckle escaped him, his face contorted with evil.
"So I killed him."
And there it was.
"You—" she gaped. "It was you."
"Indeed," he stated, a certain pride in his tone.
"He was your friend. Your longest friend. You betrayed him. How could you—?"
"He betrayed me!" he seethed, a sudden rage bursting from him. "The moment he abandoned everything for your muggle mother. He betrayed me."
Her throat was so thick, she couldn't even produce a sound.
"I gave him a choice. Either I killed your mother, and spared his life—or, he died, and she lived. He chose wrong."
"You tortured him," she suddenly remembered.
"He deserved to suffer."
An awful nausea overwhelmed her.
He continued. "Alas, when my son provided the information that the daughter of Atticus Rivière lived—"
"What?"
"Oh, that's right," he snorted. "Poor girl. Did you actually believe that my son— the Malfoy heir, could desire a traitorous-blooded disgrace like you?"
It was as if all of the oxygen that surrounded her had disappeared. Her heart clenched, twisted inside itself, an abhorrent burning sensation scorching through her chest.
The nausea increased. Sick to her core.
"So naive," Lucius frowned, before a satisfied smirk crept upon his face. "My son has done well in my absence. A few slip ups of course, but he's redeeming himself this very moment actually. He makes a fine Death Eater, don't you think? Subservient to his master as he should be."
"No—" she choked, inaudibly.
"What was that, dear?" he shrivelled his thin upper lip.
It didn't make sense. None of it made sense.
"No—he wouldn't—"
"Oh! but he did," another grin marked his face. "He was happy to do so. Oh you poor girl. Did you think he'd protect your little secret? My son knows where his loyalties lie, as do I. And now there is only one more task that needs to be completed."
He promised. He promised. He promised.
It replayed in her head. Every promise he made, suddenly meaningless.
She felt cold, so cold. As bitter as the ring that hung around her neck. The ring that was stinging cold, now burned into her flesh.
"I find it only fitting I be the one to do the honours—providing I also took your father's life. It's almost tradition," he snorted, sounding like a mad-man.
She didn't even care. Couldn't bring herself to care.
Here she was, being told she was arriving on the doorstep of death, about to stumble through its entry, meanwhile doing nothing about it. Not even feeling scared.
"But I may as well have my fun with it first."
She wondered what he meant, her mind shutting down. She noticed him drawing his wand, seeing the 'Crucio' escape his mouth, but not hearing the words. Hearing nothing—and observing the red light explode from the tip of the wand.
The blast connected with her body, before she could do anything to prevent it. And the pain was excruciating—overly excruciating, even that was an understatement for the feeling. As if she was being stabbed again and again with scorching knives. Slicing every inch of her body.
She was surely going to implode. She had never screamed so loudly, her voice box strained, but projecting outwards into the open air. Screaming and screaming. Writhing in unbearable pain.
It would not stop. A never ending cycle of agony.
Her screams were so wretched, so ghastly, she no longer recognised her own sound.
Her lungs, her heart, her head: all about to explode. Everything in her life suddenly reduced to one single feeling—pain.
Pain. Pain—constant pain.
But then it stopped.
Like an outward flush of water, drawn back in all at once—it ended.
She struggled for air, gasping violently, her body spasming on the ground. There was a ringing in her ears. No sound, but the ringing, a constant squealing in her head.
Her jaw hung open, air passing mechanically through her mouth. It hurt to breathe.
Her eyes stared up at the night sky, death feeling as if it had already come.
Until Lucius Malfoy stepped over the view.
"Get up," he spat.
She did not reciprocate, her eyes fixated on the vast space above.
"Weak."
His words, his insults meant nothing to her. She couldn't feel anything—numbed by the agony she had just experienced.
"Get up!" he repeated, seething.
She tried to speak, but words failed her.
Before she could get herself up, her body was taken control of. Forced onto her feet by the Imperious Curse.
Her eyes rested on a distance ahead, past Lucius's shoulder.
Nothing seemed to matter. Nothing mattered. She was going to die. She had already accepted it. What could she do to prevent it?
She couldn't move. Couldn't fight. The Imperious barring her from reaching into her back pocket, snatching out her wand, and defending herself.
With a mocking grin, Lucius leaned forwards, almost as if he was trying to catch her smell, to breathe in the scent of his victim before he stole her life away.
His fingers brushed against her collarbone, and a chilling shiver trembled through her body at his touch. He found the silver chain of her necklace. He pulled it up, revealing the ring and his eyes widened.
He said nothing, glaring at the ring, then snarled wickedly with a vicious curl of his lip as he tugged at the chain, ripping it off of her neck and winding her as he did so.
She felt the absence of the necklace heavily, as if the silver had been embedded into her flesh.
He rolled the ring around in his hand, aimed his wand at the silver and muttered an incantation that melted it into nothing.
She brought a trembling hand to her throat, releasing a sharp sob.
"Athena!" a familiar voice yelled from beside them. It took her a moment to place who it was.
No. No. No. No.
Cedric came sprinting over, dressed in his Quidditch uniform, having just come from a late night practice. He snatched out his wand immediately, intaking the sight in front of him and stood guardedly.
"No—Cedric! Go!" she choked out, desperation clear in her tone.
"I heard screaming. Did he—?"
"Leave, boy!" Lucius snarled. "This doesn't concern you."
Cedric raised his wand in front of him, his body language now defensive.
"Get away from her! Don't hurt her again," Cedric seethed, getting closer to the two of them.
Athena looked at him, shaking her head continuously, tears falling from her eyes.
She tried to move her feet, but was unable, still under Lucius's Imperious.
Lucius rolled his eyes, appearing utterly bored.
He dropped his Imperious, making Athena collapse, where her head smacked the ground below. But she forced herself to recover quickly, her legs trembling furiously as she attempted to straighten up with a wince and a frightful groan.
He aimed his wand at Cedric and the red light of the Cruciatus curse soared from the end, throwing Cedric to his knees, gut-wrenching screams ripping out of him.
"No! No—please! Not him! Don't hurt him!" she screamed.
His torture wouldn't falter.
"It's me you wanted! Stop! I'm begging you. Please!"
Lucius lifted the curse, sniggering wickedly as he did so, turning a blind eye on Cedric.
"Very well," he snarled.
Athena didn't stray her focus away from Cedric, staring at his crumpled form that spasmed with the agony she herself could feel.
She looked back to Lucius, standing still, despite the tremors in her body from the torture. His expression was vile—deriding and infuriating.
"You deserve nothing," she raged, a chilling terror consuming her.
The possibility that every moment, every little thing endured over the past few months, had been limited down to this very second, now seemed perceptible. Obvious.
The irony of the situation mocked her ruthlessly, cackling straight in her face in the form of Lucius. Acted as a reminder of how ignorant she had been.
Her mind would not, could not even try to think of Draco. Her last moments would not be spent saddened over this heartbreak. This betrayal that now, when looking back, seemed so inevitable all along. Oh, how irresponsible she had been.
But it didn't matter anymore. Nothing did.
Because here was death—approaching, almost in slow motion as Lucius Malfoy raised his wand predatorily, and she shut her eyes, holding her breath. Heard the killing curse escape him in a forceful shout, and the green light flashed behind her closed eyelids.
And she was knocked backwards, like the weight of a body being thrown against hers. Smacked the back of her head on the ground, and—
Was this death?
She could still feel the pain, the bitter chill of the night on her skin, the metallic taste of blood in her mouth, a ringing sound once again.
The breath she held still hadn't been released.
Until her eyes opened in a flash, only to come to the realisation that she was indeed still alive, the night sky strewn above her like an eternal painting.
She forced herself to sit up, her vision blurred, distorted—like being drunk. Drunk from pain.
Her eyes adjusted to the figures in front of her. Lucius Malfoy stood impassively, and a body—an unmoving body.
"Stupid boy!" she heard through the ringing.
And then the realisation reigned down on her like a tsunami. The force of the realisation like the waves, wiping her out.
"NO—"
There lay Cedric. An unmoving body. A corpse.
His eyes were blank. The remnants of agony from the Cruciatus curse engraved within his still features.
Cedric, once with the light in his eyes—now with nothing.
Nothing. He was gone, thrown off of this mortal coil.
Athena sank to her knees, trembling, her entire body frozen through with shock.
With a shuddering hand, she drew her wand, holding it above her chest, a sudden rage compelling her. A rage that had the potential to conjure Dark Magic. To brew up a storm.
But before the incantation of the Cruciatus Curse could leave her lips, her wand was thrown aside by an effortless flick from his.
She sank to her knees beside Cedric's corpse, a miserable, soul destroying, depression, guilt, remorse consumed her being.
Breaking through from the surroundings, another figure emerged from the shadows.
"Father—what have you done?" came Draco's yell from a few meters away.
The shock stilled her, unable to remove her fixation from Cedric's expressionless, cold face. She acknowledged Draco's sudden presence, and felt nothing.
Nothing at all.
"Go away, Draco," Lucius snarled, tending back to his original mission.
His wand pointed at Athena once again, impatience clear in his haste.
"No—" Draco's voice echoed. "Expelliarmus!"
Lucius wand was cast aside, flicking straight out of his hand. It caught him off guard, the astonishment clear in his expression.
Draco dashed in front of Athena and Cedric, shielding them from his father, who was now so possessed by evil, it controlled his every move.
Lucius's arms flinched outwards towards Draco, attempting to seize him, but failing as Draco cast an Imperious Curse.
"What are you doing?" Lucius seethed through his teeth, struggling against the Imperious, but Draco maintained its strength.
Athena forced herself to look up at the exchange, her movements all mechanical.
Her eyes rested upon Draco's hand that hung by his side, noticing the slight spasming of his fingers. But his body was still—not faltering in fear.
"You will not touch her," came the icy malice of his voice.
Lucius was stricken to silence, trying to speak, but unable, only glaring viciously at his son.
"Go," Draco ordered, his tone clipped, emotionless.
Lucius was forced to comply. He turned on his heel and trudged into the Dark Forest.
Athena glanced back to the limp body beside her. No feeling at all. Just the empty wilderness that her soul had become.
Draco rushed to her, dropping to his knees in front of her, refusing to look at Cedric's corpse. He placed both hands on her face, cupping her jaw. The cold of his touch spread through her like a blizzard, her heart strings turned to ice, all plucked out and torn.
"It's ok, Athena. You're alright, I've got you," he uttered, what once had been a stern tone traded for a softer one. "I'm so sorry. We're going to be ok. I'm here, I've got you."
She heard his words, but they took no effect on her. Just hearing them for what they were—meaningless.
He splurged them out for reassurance, not a promise.
Empty words, empty promises.
Her eyes did not lift from Cedric. Remorse, so much remorse.
"I need you to stand up for me, baby. We have to leave this place now," his voice continued.
But she did not respond. Pretended he wasn't even there.
"Athena—look at me," his grip on her face strengthened. She wouldn't look at him. "Please, I'll explain everything, but we really need to go."
The twitching agony in her chest suddenly resurrected some life into her.
"No," she murmured, attempting to shake her head out of his hands. "No—No—"
Her throat grew thick, her voice cracking at the seams.
"What?" he gaped, his hands resistant to drop from her face.
Her mouth twisted, trying to hold back the sobs that were brewing within. She shook her head rapidly, trying to break free from his menacing hold.
"Get off—Get off of me," she choked, squeezing her eyes closed, trying to escape. To vanish and to fall into the ground. To be swallowed whole by the roots of the earth.
His response was inaudible, but worn so loudly upon his face.
Everything he'd ever feared, becoming true.
Then it suddenly struck her whole, all in one overwhelming comprehension, Cedric was dead. Here he lay in front of her—gone. Just gone. Never to return. Never to see another day. And Draco—she'd trusted him with everything she had. Gave herself to him. Only to him.
A gasp burst out from her, a gasp so loud, screams cracked their way through.
"How could you—?" her voice broke. "How could you do this to me?"
She finally looked at him, piercing her eyes into his, the pain consuming her, suffocating her like a chokehold. His chokehold.
He just stared at her.
"I gave you—everything—every part of myself. And you took it—like a thief—and have turned it into nothing."
"What are you talking about?" he frowned, standing vacantly in front of her.
"You promised! You said you'd keep me safe—but you lied and I trusted you. And now look what we've done. Cedric's dead—Oh god he's de-ad," she cried, submerging into hysteria. "Has this been your plan all along? This whole time—was it all a lie?"
"No," was all he said.
"Then what happened, Draco? How did Lucius find me? Tell me what happened—please, just tell me you didn't—do this."
She watched his face, observing how his eyes strained, frustration in his expression.
A mask fell upon him—the fear, the agony, the torture, all covered by a blank facade. He made no reply, allowing her to draw her own conclusions.
"Say something for god's sake!" the words came out in a sob. "Tell me you didn't—"
Nothing.
A blankness in his expression.
"Really? How wicked is your game?" she raged, shooting up onto her feet.
"Athena—"
His hands reached out for her, brushing against her arms, but she tugged away.
"Don't. Don't fucking touch me—ever again!" she yelled, so intensely, it stunned his movement. "Leave."
"I'm not going anywhere without you," he protested.
"Leave."
"Athena please—I love you. You know I love you."
She glared at him, grimacing and overly offended by his use of the words.
"You're sick. You're fucking sick," she cried. "Don't say that to me. You don't love me. I don't think you even know what love is."
His expression flashed—hurt.
Good.
She turned away from him, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, trying to hold back the tears. But she failed as an abrupt sob escaped her.
A facade of possessiveness drew over his expression. A ravenous look that once made her heart flutter. One that used to make her feel safe, protected, better than she could've ever known. But now, all she could feel was the pain of it all. Like a spear impaling her chest.
A sudden rage possessed him, as he seethed, "You're mine. You belong to me!"
"No I am no longer yours, you have lost me."
Her heart slashed apart with each word.
"Please—" his voice quivered.
"No—no—" she choked. "Leave."
His features laced with guilt and regret.
Her chest ached so violently, she thought she was dying. All was irrevocably broken, the icy shards crumbling away as they spiked her lungs, pierced into her soul.
She couldn't bare to see him any longer, and forced herself to look away, Cedric's stone cold face being the only thing in sight.
"Why are you doing this to me?" his voice split apart, desperation breaking through in his tone. Breaking down his reserve.
She did not reply, or look at him again. Only raised her wrist to cover her mouth in a pathetic attempt to conceal her pained sobs.
She listened as he walked away, sunk her teeth into the fabric of her sleeve that had been stressed over her hand, biting convulsively as the tears squeezed their way out.
She collapsed to her knees, beside Cedric's corpse. A wreck. Sobbing, hyperventilating, overwhelmed by the shock of it all.
"I'm so sorry," she wept to the lifeless entity, drowning in the tears.
She shakily grabbed her wand from where it had been disbanded earlier on, cast a Periculum spell into the sky, and watched as the red flare exploded above.
And she couldn't help herself as she took one more look behind her, only to find that Draco had disappeared. Gone from sight, but still painstakingly heavy in her heart.
The world suddenly seemed a thousand shades darker.
So did her soul.
-
fifty third chapter complete /*
rip ced :(
oop he do be deadric