'There is some good in this world,
And it's worth fighting for.'
[J.R.R. Tolkien, The Two Towers]
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Her eyelids were heavy as they opened, weighed down by a seemingly endless, almost drunken fatigue. Addie's thoughts felt painful, as though she'd been dreaming for days and was only just starting to recognise the reality suddenly around her.
A month had passed since she'd first been taken to the Manor, but she'd been in wavering consciousness the whole time; falling into dreamless sleeps for days on end as the summer month of July progressed. It was an effect of her sickness mixing with the antidote potion; a brew of which had only just pulled her from death's hands.
She only had very faint, blurry memories of the potion in question—which tasted sour and foul all at once—that had been given to her daily in specific amounts. Addie thought she could remember Snape's familiar drawl of a voice whenever one of the Death Eater's was forcing the antidote down her throat.
It took a moment for her to register the cold metal of tight chains around her wrists; binding her to a stone wall with her arms above her head. Faint daylight—or moonlight, maybe; she couldn't tell—seeped in through a single, thin window at the top of the wall opposite her, barely illuminating the small, bare room she was in.
Suddenly, memories came rushing back to her like a tidal wave.
She was trapped in the Malfoy Manor.
Everyone thinks she's dead.
They are going to use her as a weapon for the war.
Her breathing became quick as a buzz of anxiety ricocheted in her stomach. She has to escape before they use her to do anything—to hurt anyone. She has to get out. She has to get out. She has to get out.
Addie tugged her numb hands—but the chains only seemed to painfully tighten. She closed her eyes, trying to concentrate; to force herself out with a spell—but nothing happened. The energy she usually felt when performing her magic wasn't there; it felt sluggish. She tried again, and again, and again, but it didn't work.
The back of her Adeline's head rubbed against the wall as she looked up at the chains—but stopped when she saw it.
The shock Addie felt rendered her frozen for a moment, until a heavy sob wracked her chest at the sight of the Dark Mark etched onto her pale skin.
It felt unreal—but there it was, as black as ink; the mark of a Death Eater, a supporter, of Voldemort, the one who took everything from her, right there on her arm, forever. From the way her skin burned a little beneath it, she assumed it was new.
Another sob came—and then another, and then another. Tears helplessly flooded down her sickly pale cheeks. She yanked her wrists forward, pulling the chains, and they rattled as she tugged them over and over—but they never released from the wall. The sharp metal dug painfully into her skin, but she didn't care, and only tugged harder, over and over again.
Her chest ached in fear; in anger; in the painful desire to be back at Hogwarts amidst her loved ones; to be safe, to be with Harry. He was the one person that could truly make her feel comforted, make her feel safe amidst the fear she felt with this rising war, but he wasn't there—and he never would be. He thinks she's gone. He won't come to save her. She would never be with his comfort again. She would never be with his safety again.
She would never be with him again.
"LET ME OUT!" Addie screamed as loud as she could amidst her crying, but it felt like her voice reached nowhere. The chains cut into her wrists. "LET ME OUT! PLEASE!"
Silence followed.
"PLEASE!" She cried, her yells echoing throughout the small cell. It felt hard to breathe, so eventually, Addie slumped back against the wall, collapsing into sobs that wracked her chest. She let her hands hang loose from the chains as a trickle of blood trailed down her arm; it's crimson running over the Dark Mark.
Suddenly, the loud clunk of a heavy latch met her ears, and she grew quiet.
Addie looked to wear it came from—and finally noticed what was a dense, impenetrable cell door that had a small gap at the bottom from where it hovered above the floor. The light from outside leaked in through the gap, and she could see the wavering shadow of someone's legs intercepting it.
The door opened slowly with a loud, creaking noise. She looked up to see the worn face of Lucius Malfoy staring down at her with a sour expression. His platinum blonde hair contrasted against the black of his fancy, armour-like robes, and his face was mean and wrinkled.
Behind him emerged Peter Pettigrew, and the two stepped into the cell. Addie tried backing away as they approached, but the chains restrained her. "Don't touch me—!" she yelled as Peter made to grab her wrists, but Lucius stopped him.
"What is that?" The blond asked, pointing somewhere at the chains where she couldn't see. Peter's brow furrowed pathetically in confusion as he looked to the man.
"Chains," he said, dumbfounded.
"No, you idiot," Lucius seethed and grabbed her wrist harshly, bringing her hand to Peter's eye level, leaving the chains to dig painfully into her skin more. "It's blood. How many times do you need to be told that her blood is too precious to be spilt?" He spoke through his teeth, and quickly pulled out his wand; guiding the lost blood back into the open wounds before sealing them and stepping away.
"Hurry up!" he spat curtly at Peter, who cowered under his sharp gaze and scurried closer to Addie—pressing two of his fingers just above the Dark Mark where her heartbeat would be felt if she still had one.
"Get off me—!" She tried to yank her arm away, but his grasp was too tight, and suddenly a shadowy smoke appeared at Addie's feet and travelled quickly up her figure before covering her whole. When it disappeared, her dirty uniform was replaced by a long, black dress, and her body was no longer under her control.
She watched from the back of her mind as Peter undid the chains around her wrists, and the monster stood.
Addie heard a little whimper of fear tremble from his mouth as the monster looked at him, and noticed that Lucius had lowered his gaze to the floor. The monster followed the blond man as he left the cell, and Peter quickly trailed behind the two.
The monster stood tall, and her face showed no sign of emotion; her skin free of Addie's freckles, of her tear streaks; her eyes no longer a soft grey, but a deep black instead.
The shoes she wore clicked on the sleek wooden floorboards as she followed Lucius, her back straight and head held high. They reached two tall closed doors, and the monster followed him inside as he pushed them open. The low voices she had heard faintly from outside became silent as she stepped in.
"Here she is now," she heard Voldemort say.
A long table lined the middle of the room, and every seat was filled except for two. There were at least fifty pairs of eyes staring back at her as Lucius took a seat halfway along the table, which left a seat at the head of the table empty.
She recognised some of the faces—Voldemort, Severus Snape, Bellatrix Lestrange, Christine Lestrange, Fenrir Greyback, Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Draco Malfoy—but the rest she had never seen. Many either had missing teeth and dishevelled hair or stony, threatening faces and slick robes.
Addie felt breathless as fear clawed at her chest in the presence of so many death eaters, but the monster didn't show this emotion, and simply took the spare seat, directly opposite Voldemort at the other end of the table. In the corner of the room, a woman hovered above the ground; silenced by a charm, seemingly being held captive. Everyone seemed to have already been talking about her, because many of the death eaters were eyeing her sceptically.
"From now on...My daughter, in this form, will be known as Dabria..." Voldemort said slowly—almost softly; eerily. "A name that also means angel of death. I find it quite...fitting," he chuckled lightly, but no sign of amusement was on his face.
Silence followed for a moment, until it was broken by a death eater with a large scar around his neck and a layer dirt smudged across his wrinkly, scary face. "How ain't she dead then, eh?" His voice was rough as he spoke, and his words slurred as though he were drunk. "Didn't Malfoy's boy report that she was dyin'?"
"Not anymore...Severus here brewed an antidote, and last night, in fact, was the last dosage of that antidote, was it not?"
"It was," Snape spoke.
"How d'we know she can't break out?" The death eater spoke up again, seemingly unsatisfied. "Was she, or was she not, capable of killing a man with a single flick of 'er hand, eh? What about that?" He motioned to her. "How d'we know she won't snap 'er fingers right now and kill us all, hm?"
"Severus has brewed another concoction for that..." Voldemort announced to the table, unbothered by the man's manner. "One of which dulls Dabria's magic when in her human form. Whilst in her cell, this means that she will be incapable of such magic. It will be administered nightly."
"Won't that jus' dull the magic we want, though?"
"They are seperate entities, so no," Snape spoke up, and the death eater looked between him and Voldemort confused.
"Say that again, mate. This time in english."
"Let me dumb...it...down for you, then," Snape stared blankly at the man across the table. "Every witch and wizard has one strain of magic in them. Dabria has two, one of which is the dark magic we seek that is only available to her when in this form. This potion simply targets the other magic. Is that...clear enough for you?"
"Plenty," the death eater said simply, and sat back in his seat, crossing his arms. "Except—" he began again, but was interrupted as the rest of the table groaned in protest for his annoying questions.
He continued above the noise. "Ain't she in love with Potter? Will this or will this not literally effect the entire mission?"
At his name, her heart ached. She did not know what this 'mission' was, but she noticed Christine shift in her seat at the mention of Harry.
There were marks beneath her eyes, and her face was slimmer than the last time Addie had seen her. Her curly, frizzy hair was shorter than her mother's, and a bit more tamed, though the resemblance between them otherwise was scarily similar, except for her tanned olive skin. Her arms were crossed; eyes trained blankly to the table before her as though bored.
The rest of the death eater's seemed to brush off the other man's question, not giving him their attention—except for one.
"Walker makes a point, my Lord," Lucius Malfoy spoke up past his former hesitancy, and they quietened. He looked directly at Voldemort. "How can we know for sure that Adeline won't override Dabria and ruin the plan? How do we know Potter won't try something? How do we know we can trust her—?"
"It is bold of you to speak about trust, Lucius," Voldemort cut him off with a threatening anger in his eyes. "DABRIA IS MORE TRUSTWORTHY THAN ALL OF YOU BEFORE ME," he bellowed suddenly, standing, and the Malfoy failed to suppress his flinch. "She does exactly what I say without question. She is loyal to me. And this loyalty is unchallenged."
"As the main weapon of this war, Dabria will undergo training to harness the true strength of her dark magic. Watch," he continued, and everyone followed his gaze trained on her. "Stand," he said, and the monster—or, Dabria—stood. "Tell us, Dabria. Do you love Harry Potter?"
A voice deeper, more assertive, than Addie's responded without a flicker of emotion. "No."
Some of the death eaters traded surprised, impressed looks. Addie watched as an expression she couldn't pinpoint flash across Draco's face.
"Would you hurt him if I instructed you to?"
No, Addie said in her head, but "Yes," left her lips.
"Would you kill him if I became incapable of doing so myself?"
No. Never. "Yes."
"And if that is not proof enough for you all that Dabria here is not one of us...Dabria, bring Ms Charity Burbage over the table, if you will..." Voldemort motioned to who Addie recognised as the muggle studies teacher at Hogwarts hovering silently in the corner.
Dabria's hand rose in the woman's direction, and Addie could sense what was coming. STOP! She screamed in her head desperately, unsure if the monster could even hear her or not. STOP IT!
But Ms Burbage floated through the air by Dabria's control until she hovered over the table as instructed. Voldemort kept talking, but Addie didn't listen to his words; instead focusing on trying to feel her limbs to take back control—but nothing was working.
"Kill her, Dabria," Voldemort instructed. The death eaters watched in anticipation.
NO, NO, DON'T—YOU CAN'T—PLEASE JUST STOP—PLEASE!
But a bright green light emitted from the tips of her fingers and struck the woman beyond Addie's control. She fell onto the table below with a sickening thump, and her body was limp; lifeless.
Adeline felt her emotions caving into a mass of grief. She just killed an innocent teacher. She just killed an innocent teacher. It was Sirius and the Veil all over again. What if they make her hurt someone else? What about Ron, Hermione, Ginny? What about Harry? No one would ever forgive her. Maybe she isn't the one who cut, but she's the one holding the knife. She's the guilty one. She's a death eater now, and there's nothing she can do about it.
Despite the emotionally overwhelming deja vu that Addie felt, Dabria's face remained stoney and unreadable, with no sign of regret or sliver of feeling.
The death eaters seemed convinced at her trustworthiness; impressed, if not fearful, by her power as they warily eyed the dead teacher and her outstretched hand—unbeknownst to the breaking girl within her.
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a/n:
HELLOOOO
sorry for the wait on this chapter lol but thank u all for your patient & continuous support!!
i'm so excited for this book!! i have it completely planned out, and if you think you're emotionally ready, trust (ha) me when i say you're not
mwahahah i mean what—
also pls let me know if something is confusing to you and i'll explain it! (unless it will be covered later in the story).
okay bye ly
-g