Staring out of the massive window panes that had been opened, the wind gusted into the room. The snow-coloured hair fluttered along as Aine blinked at the gentle breeze. Memories of the moment when she saw her father in the dream were getting fuzzy in her mind and as soon as she had awakened, the recollections blurred as though it was meant to be forgotten and buried deep inside her bones. If there was one thing Aine had recalled from that day was that there was no need to be afraid anymore, she knew her father was with her. Though he may not walk around physically in their world anymore, just like Sirius or Cedric. They will always remain in her heart.
No fear, set it free.
The words of her father resounded inside her mind that she had kept close. It was the last piece of advice Elliot had left her, and it had given her the strength to move on. She could still feel the pang of guilt lurking by her side but she had come to terms that there was no use crying over what was already done. All she could do now was to live her life to the fullest, it was what her father would have wanted for her in the first place. In fact, the sadness inside of her had seemed to be overpowered by the wrath. She was even more vengeful than ever upon opening her eyes once more.
Despite being given the chance to live again every time she wakes up from sleep, Aine believed herself to be cursed. Countless times she had been pushed over the edge during endless tortures, inflicted with pain and anguish that both cut deeper than any slash through her skin. Times when the girl had wished to simply die so that she could be rid of the misery of being tormented, watching the people whom she hold dear suffer tragic deaths and the heartbreak she had felt to go on living without them. But the gods had wanted her to live, and each time she was on the brink of Death, she had prevailed stronger.
Was it a miracle or a mistake that she had ended up surviving? Aine could only wonder how long it will take before such blessings run out and she would, like any other living creature cave into Death.
Perhaps it was a punishment...
That she had been doomed by the gods who had befallen the girl to live through the sorrows and this cruel fate. Only time can tell.
Aine felt the seething pain crawling up to her arm again, it had always come so suddenly. She gripped the sheets on the bed, biting down a wince. It was as if her whole arm had been engulfed with flames, burning into her flesh. She narrowed her pupils at the heinous mark that Voldemort had branded her, recalling flashes of how she had attained the Dark Mark.
All she could make of in her woolly memories was that after being knocked out unconscious, there was a tremendous pain that followed. She remembered going berserk when those monsters had forced her to shut her mouth when Voldemort had stabbed her arm with his wand, infusing her with the skull markings. The way the black ink seeps into her system like poison.
She remembered lashing out at those who had restrained her, the powers she had acquired were still unstable after all and she had little to no control over them. And before she had yielded to the tenebrosity, she remembered how every Deatheater who had her seized, took a shot to get back at her as soon as their master had left the scene. A childish and petty move on their part. They had attacked her physically and mentally, battering up the little lady knowing that someone on their side would fix her up anyways. Where else would they get another chance to do so?
Sure enough, she had been completely mended. The cuts and bruises on her body healed within two days as she woke, the soreness in her muscles took longer but had nevertheless subsided. In spite of all her wounds being pretty much settled and stitched back, Aine's heart remained tainted and darker than ever. There was no way she could return to the girl she was before all this mess had started, after everything that she had been put through.
She had learnt to endure all the pain, the suffering and the insults she hear within the walls of the manor. Even the scorching pain in her arm was given to her by the Dark Mark. She had absorbed all of it in silence, numbing everything that could hurt her. She was going to adhere to the deal wholeheartedly, taking the mark of their cause in exchange for Aion and Draco's freedom so they wouldn't be hurt anymore was the best thing she could have done. They were the only people whom Aine had trusted in this house, alongside Narcissa Malfoy of course. They knew of her pain and she knew of theirs, and all of them know that there was no way out.
"Lianna." A voice came from the door prior to a couple of knocks and Aine waved her fingers, unlocking it as the wooden door swung open. Her brother stood outside her room as she stood and turn around, giving him a hollow smile. "It's time. Come on, my sweet sister."
Without saying another word, Aine minced towards Aion, intertwining her hand into his. They passed a group of Deatheaters who were loitering around the reading room, their faces uncovered from their masks and they wore sardonic grins. The Estoileon siblings paid no attention to them when they walked by. They were free to do as they wish now that Aine was part of their organization and so had Aion. Just as the Dark Lord had foreseen, the lad had followed in his sister's footsteps and got the mark as soon as he had found out about the offer between Voldemort and Aine.
However, in Aion's case. He had not only gotten it because of Aine but of the threat that Voldemort had warned him should he not follow. He would go after the party that Aion had considered his second family, the family of his lover and best friend— the Delacours. Either way, Aion was not going to let his sister shoulder everything by herself, knowing that sticking together was better than fending alone.
The air around the Estoileons cracked when Aion apparated along with his sister back to their home. Standing by the massive tree was a man dressed in black head-to-toe, just like the two of them. Snape loomed over a carved rectangular stone beneath the beautiful old tree. The oldest and biggest tree on the land where the Estoileon's cottage resided. Little pastel pink flowers had bloomed on it, dangling down like wisteria as it danced with the wind. Moonflower bushes lined next to the grave with blue rosebuds growing from it. It was a peaceful area that was fitting to be the resting place of their father.
"Thank you," Aion said to Snape, knowing that it was he who had their father's grave arranged. It was also Aine's professor who had collected the remnants of their father that day after they had been captured. He had placed the shattered crystal pieces in a porcelain urn and buried them under the tombstone. It was a small little gesture that he need not do but nonetheless, Aion and Aine appreciate it greatly. Despite the many years where Snape may have held some disdain for Elliot due to the rival they had shared, both having an interest in potions, he was still a good companion to Snape.
Snape responded with a short hum, he took a step back and decided to let his friend's children pay their respects.
Aion bent a knee and gently placed a bouquet of blue roses on the marble monument. The flowers were their favourites, the flower that symbolized miracles. A flower that had a greater meaning in their family. Then, along with his sister, they sank their heads and closed their eyes, praying for their father to find peace now that he was free.
Aine's eyes were bloodshot and shadows in the shape of half-moons were visible under her bags. Her white hair had been tied back with a black satin ribbon, matching her full black mourning dress. She then brings forth a little flower crown that she had made, it was nowhere as perfect as the one her father had made but she had learnt it from him. Kneeling down, she sets it on top of the tomb.
With the basket of flowers that she had gathered around her home, Aine began to decorate her father's grave. It was looking so depressing and empty with just the bouquet and crown there. Only when she was done, did the grave look livelier and full. Aine knew that Elliot wouldn't want his grave to remind them of the sadness whenever they visit. Furthermore, she didn't want her father's resting place to be looking so lonely, especially since she would be returning to school soon. She hoped that the flowers she had placed enveloping her father would grow when she was gone, keeping him company when she couldn't. Her fingers trailed across the engraved cursive words on the stone.
ELLIOT CAIUS ESTOILEON
BORN 31 OCTOBER 1960
DIED 29 JUNE 1996
Until the Sun shines no more, his warmth will never be lost or forgotten.
Aion watches his sister stroke the tomb, resting her forehead on it as she muttered something he couldn't quite make of. They were words of another tongue that had sent chills down his spine. He did however catch a name.
Cal Moran.
The older Estoileon felt tears suddenly prickling in his eyes again, his mind traced back to when Aine had told him about the dream where she had seen their father. He couldn't help but sniffled, a part of him feeling that he had failed as a son to his father. But he was going to uphold what his father had wanted for him, to live his life without regrets, to be the person he was going to be. That was a promise he had sworn to Elliot to do.
Aine stood back up, she held her brother close and rubbed his back to soothe him and offer him comfort. She wanted him to know that he wasn't alone, as much as it may have felt. She could see how much he was trying not to show any of his tears, by remaining valiant.
To Snape's surprise, unlike her brother, Aine showed no tears and no emotions whatsoever. Almost as if she had been washed away from all sentiments, the girl merely gaze at her father's name. Not a single hint of expression plastered, her dull golden pupils bore down as if deep in thought. Nevertheless, he knew that Aine was obscuring herself, she was done being weak.
She had cried too many times and her tears were all dried.
The girl's fists balled tightly, her brows furrowing very slightly. She could feel the crescents etching into her palms, her heart wrenching together. She wondered at that moment if she had been a good daughter to her father. Though she may not have been his true blood daughter, Elliot was the only father Aine had and will ever accept. He was the father Aine had loved.
And the only father she accepts.
Sometime after both Aine, Aion and Snape had left the Estoileon's home back to the manor. A figure had materialised before the tomb and crouched down to meet eye with Elliot's name. With a hand tracing over the dead man's name, droplets of tears had fallen on the marble from lilac eyes. Shoulders trembling as a hand covered their mouth to prevent a heart-wrenching sob.
There, keeping the company of the deceased, the shadow stayed for a long time. It was only until the Sun had gone down and night had come that a single stalk of a flower was left behind— A white Iris.
"Forgive me..."
Later that evening when Aine returned back to Malfoy Manor, Draco was the first to welcome her. He immediately walked up to the girl and wrapped his arms around her, knowing that she needed a hug. Aine closed her eyes, finding warmth in Draco's embrace as she rests her head on his chest.
"I'm so sorry, my love," he whispered to her with a gentle voice. He knew that there was no way to bring a dead person back to life and that Aine had been greatly traumatised by the death of her father along with the torture and abuse. She wasn't the same anymore but he still loved her.
Aine clutched onto Draco's shirt and she murmured a very soft 'thank you', she was glad that he was by her side ever since she had regained consciousness. In fact, he had gotten even more protective of Aine, he never wanted to see her hurt ever again and the sight of Aine haunted him constantly.
The pair moved to the balcony where they usually spend time together, watching the skies and counting the stars and wondering if her father was amongst the infinite stars in the heavens. The quietness helped them to find a little peace in the chaos that enwreathed them, trying to find themselves once more to be whole again. Aine leaned on Draco and the boy held her hand, "What do you think is going to happen from now?" she asks him.
Draco sighed through his nose, not wanting to think about all the harrowing things that could happen. He had been told by his aunt that the Dark Lord had great things planned for him and Aine, although it was mostly on him. Hinted by Bellatrix, it had something to do with taking the fall for his father's failure. "I... I don't know..." he replied honestly, drawing circles on the back of Aine's hand with his thumb. "Whatever it is, I'll figure it out."
"Draco..." Aine said, looking at him with softened eyes. "I'm with you, till the end. You know that right?"
"Of course, M'lady. So am I," he smiles back at her, planting a small kiss on her hand.
It wasn't long until Aine's arm started burning, signalling the girl that the dreadful meeting was coming. She took a sharp intake of a breath and with Draco, they mentally prepared themselves before proceeding to the drawing room.
As usual, Voldemort had taken the seat in the middle of the table. Except unlike before when the Estoileon siblings were absent, they had attended their first formal gathering. Aine took her seat next to Draco, with her brother beside her.
The meeting had been mostly a one-sided conversation, Voldemort announcing to his followers about the recent attack on the Millennium Bridge that had been brought down by his finest squad of Deatheaters. It was a warning to Cornelius Fudge to step aside from his position as the Minister of Magic and if he hadn't done so, there would only be more mass murdering of Muggles. To reign with even more terror should things not go the way he wants them to.
"What of the giants? Have they selected a side to ally themselves?" the Dark Lord questioned Walden Macnair who had been sent to recruit the large humanoid beings into their conquest.
Macnair gave a devilish smirk, "It seems that Dumbledore had sent his people down to convince Karkus prior to our arrival."
"And?"
"Unfortunately, Karkus is no longer the Gurg," Macnair stated.
Aine had heard of the term once during her class with Hagrid. 'Gurg' was the title that had been bestowed to the leader of the Giant tribe. If Karkus was no longer leader, that meant another giant had taken his place. She felt a terrible feeling in her gut, knowing that Karkus might have been defeated or worst, murdered.
"The giant that has taken his place was Golgomath who had engineered an uprising. He is now the new leader of the giants and has pledged their allegiance to you, and our cause, my lord," the man added proudly, he exchanged prideful looks with his subordinates who dipped their heads.
"Wonderful! Good work, Macnair. You have proven your purpose to me," Voldemort complimented with a grin.
"You flatter me, my lord. I am simply doing what a loyal servant will do..."
Moving forward with their pursuits to plunge both the non-magical and magical world of fear, the meeting deepens into the night. It felt like forever and Aine was beginning to get bored, she made little to no effort to hide it.
"Now that we have made the necessary plans, let us come together to rejoice!" Voldemort said, bringing himself forward as he clasps his hand with a delightful twinkle in his eyes. He shifted his gaze to Draco, "Draco Malfoy..." he calls out to the boy.
Draco whipped to Voldemort, warily eyeing around at the new attention. He grips Aine's hand and she squeezes it back, nervous just like him. They waited for Voldemort to proceed on, the stillness in the air was heavy and they could hear the faint crackle of the firewood.
"As many of you know, a few months ago I tasked Lucius Malfoy to retrieve Harry Potter's prophecy. A mission that he had bitterly failed to accomplish—" Voldemort spat, glaring at both Draco and Narcissa who had frozen in their seats. The Dark Lord stood up and sauntered over to the Malfoys. "Not only was he unsuccessful in bringing me what I want, he even had it broken!" he mocked the mother and son in front of his army. The room erupted with a long string of laughter, further humiliating the family.
Narcissa tensed up, her jaw hardening as she composed herself, holding her head high as her back remained straight. Her scarlet-tinted lips were twitching, unable to disguise her embarrassment.
Draco's fists were shaking so badly that his knees began to tremble along under the table. He mustered every strength to calm himself down with the help of Aine. Their hearts beat dangerously fast, pounding on their ribcages as they await the verdict.
The Dark Lord fixed his attention back on the boy, he runs his long slender fingers through Draco's platinum locks. The boy held his breath, he shuddered when he senses Voldemort over his shoulder. Nagini slithered towards her master's side. "As punishment for your family for failing me... I order you, Draco Malfoy—"
Voldemort's army quietened down, eager to hear what task their master will give the son of their incarcerated accomplice who had failed. He took a secret glance at the Malfoys before snickering to himself. Out of the blue, he ordered, "Everyone who is not a Malfoy or Estoileon, get out this instant!"
His followers fell into a pit of confusion, they were all waiting to hear what plans their master has for the young boy. Before they could even catch a glimpse of it, their excitement was left hanging abruptly. It was a mere courtesy given to Narcissa Malfoy by the Dark Lord, knowing that they had their share of being publicly disgraced.
Everyone remained in their seats, still rather unsure if this was a test or a command. When there had been little to no movement, the Dark lord became irritated. "Were my instructions unclear?" he questioned, eyeing every face.
Snape was the first to stand, he had taken the honour of leaving first. He had no place here and wanted no second wasted to be in the room where he wasn't needed. Following his footsteps were the rest of the army, dragging their foot as they disapparate out of the hall, feeling pity that they were not there to witness the great plan.
Cal huffs, frowning as he cast a final look at Aine. "Don't play with our hearts like that, master! We were waiting for some fun news too!" he pouted.
Voldemort chuckled under his breath, turning to Cal. "Don't worry, Cal. I have another mission for you to do. In time, you shall know. Now, leave."
"Of course, my lord~" Cal smirked, he gave his master a salute before bidding a wink in Aine's direction. "See you later, darling~"
Bellatrix was about to stand and leave before Voldemort instructed her to remain. She had been Narcissa Malfoy's blood sister after all. She was given the chance to stay behind and listen.
Left planted in the velvet plush seats were Bellatrix, Narcissa, Draco, Aion and Aine. Voldemort sighs, "Now that our distractions are away. Let's get down to business, shall we?"
Voldemort's second-in-command giggled as she taps her fingers excitedly on the table. He went on, "What I want, Draco... What I want you to do..."
There was a foreboding atmosphere in the air, a nerve-wracking moment for the boy who gulped.
"... Is to kill Albus Dumbledore," Voldemort charged.
Draco's face had completely drained of blood from the words that the Dark Lord had uttered. He couldn't even fathom it at that second, he was just baffled as everyone else in the room. His lips gaped apart but no sound had come out. He wanted to scream, he wanted to beg for mercy but there was nothing but shock. Then it hit him late, this wasn't just an ordinary task to reclaim the honour of his family.
It was a suicide mission.
"MY LORD!" Narcissa finally burst out, tears in her desperate eyes. She looked to her son and to Voldemort, horrified by the mission.
"CISSY!" Bellatrix hissed to her sister, beckoning her to sit back down.
Aine and Aion cast a side-eye at one another, sharing the same terror that Draco and Narcissa were experiencing. Neither of them had expected this outcome, it was an impossible task that anyone knew.
How in Godric's name was Draco going to assassinate the most powerful wizard? Who would succeed at such a preposterous assignment?
It was utterly absurd.
A million thoughts raced past Draco's mind. This was Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Dumbledore they were talking about. Not some old random man. This was their headmaster that had loved lemon sherbet candies. How the hell was he going to kill the man who was on par with the monster in front of him? It wasn't as if he could just poison those lemon candies or just stroll into his office and curse him to die then and there.
"Well?" Voldemort pressed, cocking his head to wonder why he had not replied.
"I... I... I cannot—" Draco stammered, gulping. His words were no more than a soft whisper. He could feel the lump in his throat, he felt sick. The panic surged up as he felt a knot in his stomach.
Voldemort chuckled at the flustered boy, "It seems you have mistaken what I'm saying, Draco..." His smirk flickered away, "I am not asking you. This... This is an order from your master, boy!" he bellowed.
Draco glanced at Aine, he was absolutely bewildered. He refused to believe the task given to him, it had to be a joke. If the boy he was years ago were to hear this coming from Voldemort, he would no doubt be honoured to do so. But Draco had changed, he had come to dislike supremacy and the actions of being a faithful aide to the Dark Lord no longer tempted him. He longed not for the mere title anymore, he just wanted to be normal. Just like any other kid that he went to school with, only to be worrying about their future career plans, not about whether he was going to live for another year or not.
He was about to open his mouth to speak again, in hopes to say something that could ease the Dark Lord's displeasure with his family. Regardless, as he was digging into his mind to think of something to say, Voldemort beat him to it.
The pale fingers cascaded down from his head to his neck and then on his shoulders, giving it a firm grasp. "I trust you will succeed. For the fate and safety of your family—" his words brushing across Draco's nape. The boy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, perturbed by the distance he shared with the man. Voldemort adverted his gaze to Narcissa and the boy knew that should he not compromise, his mother would be killed. "Do not fail me like your pathetic father."
Voldemort pulled himself away, amused by the shivering boy who could only imagine the worse. He extended his hand out to the boy who looks at it with a quizzical look, "Your arm, Draco," he commanded.
Narcissa was already fighting back her tears, clenching her skirt as she looks away, she couldn't bear to witness the ceremony. She had been lucky that the Dark Lord did not gift her the mark but her son was now taking the misfortune of having it.
Hesitantly, Draco did as he was told, putting out his arm as Voldemort pierces his skin with his bone-like wand. A toothy grin lathered on his face as he was thrilled that he had gained another follower.
Strained grunts escaped from Draco's lips as he tried his best to shut up. He didn't want to give the Dark Lord pleasure of hearing his screams, of his suffering, of his pain. He was holding onto Aine's hand so tightly that he was worried that her bones will crack. Their knuckles were white and numb. Though she had been semi-conscious when she had gotten the mark, Aine knew perfectly well how painful it was and so did everyone who had gotten the Dark Mark.
It felt like they had been branded with a hot white iron, feeling their very flesh sizzle. And the aftermath sensation of a parasite clawing and polluting their body.
Sweat had grown on Draco's furrowed forehead, discomfort evolving into agony. His breathing ragged and all he could feel was pain. He could only watch as the ink develops into the form of a skull and a snake, swirling in his arm, blackening his soul and mind.
By the time the mark had settled, the boy panted. He releases the tight grip he had on Aine but the girl continued to hold his hand. He was not alone.
"Welcome home, my boy," Voldemort said to him before stepping away. He was met with Aine's glaring eyes, anger and hatred beneath those pristine golden pupils. He had always loved Aine's eyes, not only did they remind him of the most flawless yellow diamond, they seemed to hold so much more secrets and power. The power he had lusted for, just like her mother, Aris.
He could tell what Aine was thinking even without her saying, he could see the disgust in her eyes. He could feel the blazing raw detest that was hurled in his direction. A brilliant idea struck him and he approaches the girl. He took a lock of her white hair and twirled it. "Why don't you assist Draco in this operation, Aine? I'm sure he would like that very much."
Aine's lips remained sealed, she uttered nothing to him.
"I shall anticipate success from the two of you. And I should expect you to know, failure is not an option... For the fate of your family rests in both of your hands."
─── ⋆⋅☀⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☀⋅⋆ ───
At last, Elliot's story is slowly coming to a close. The next part of the plot is approaching... I just wanted to give Aine and Aion some closure with their father before we embark forward. It is just sad and bitter and tragic... But rest assured for any Elliot fans, we will hear more of his tale in the future chapters. I still need to tie up some loose ends for his arc!
And yes, if any of you needed some clarity. What Aine was muttering about at Elliot's grave is that she had sworn to kill Cal for justice for her father. What do you think? This is just the beginning, of the steps Aine will take as she spirals down. With that much torture and abuse, our girl is no longer the same. She will become more unhinged, dangerous and corrupted.
Leave me your thoughts! Do upvote if you enjoyed and see you in the next one!
- Zeneria