Evie paced their bedroom for the umpteenth time.
She calculated the minutes the Death Eater meeting went on and by the second hour, nobody had left the manor.
Fear was digging its nasty claws into her heart.
So many minutes passed that Evie wondered whether somebody was playing a practical joke with a time turner and replaying it back over and over again.
She stared at the barely moving grandfathers clock in the hallway. Blimey, the thing probably didn't even work.
Time will come, she told herself. It will happen. They will come out at some point. They have it. Unless someone from the terrorist organization played a stunt and killed everyone quietly in the process.
Well, that'd be stupid. The Dark Lord wouldn't allow that. Not in his lifetime.
In what felt like forever, the doors finally opened and many Death Eaters scattered out, apparating back to their homes. The only one who didn't was a marching Draco Malfoy, who made a beeline for Evie.
He took her by the arm and pulled her up the stairs toward their bedroom.
She didn't bother arguing, for the fierceness in his compressed expression said he was one eggshell away from cracking and bursting into raging flames.
Draco, yanking her into the bedroom, slammed the door closed and enchanted it to lock. "Why didn't you tell me you were conducting business with the Dark Lord?"
She gestured at him. "Because I knew you'd react exactly like this."
"You had no right. You're still healing," he hissed, stepping closer.
"If I feel like I can help our cause in any way then you better understand I will do anything. I hate playing housewife. I will never be one, never have been so stop expecting me to all of a sudden be alright with it, "Evie spat, breathing heavily.
She paled as the realization of her words sank in. Even Draco's eyes rounded with surprise.
Unsure of how to piece his sentences together, Draco held out his hands. "At least tell me you're not doing magical tasks."
Evie shook her head. "Of course not. Even the Dark Lord thinks I'm not ready for that yet. I'm only helping him with non-magical things. Like this."
Draco dropped his gaze to the floor. Almost as if to hide the smirk that soon replaced his scowl. Unfortunately for him, Evie noticed it instantly.
Not very often does one see something warm accentuate a rigid beast.
"That was..." Draco's smirk widened. "Quite impressive, actually."
Evie blushed.
"Don't get ahead of yourself," he then quickly iced his tone again. "You've only impressed me once."
They stared at each other in silence. Evie couldn't help herself. She burst into a giggle, earning no more than a light twitch from the corners of Draco's mouth.
Almost a smile — better than nothing, she supposed.
"What was said in the meeting?" Evie asked, plopping onto their bed and swung her legs that didn't quite touch the ground.
Draco brushed off his suit jacket and began removing his cufflinks. "We have a feeling that the terrorists will start communicating in code."
"Thank Salazar you had me then," Evie said.
He unclipped his suspender belts and threw them in the dirty clothing hamper. "You say that but I think they'll be getting more sophisticated. More creative."
"Y'know, you should hold more faith in me. Remember, you couldn't crack that letter and I did."
Draco huffed and rolled his eyes. "I'm going for a bath."
Victorious, Evie giggled once again and rolled back onto the bed, feet kicking the air and all.
She'd impressed both the Dark Lord and Draco in one afternoon. Well, now evening, seeming that the sun was starting to hide, ready to rest.
While Draco bathed, Evie dressed into a silky green nightdress, then sniffed the two pillows to see which side Draco preferred. The left was potent with his cologne so she opted for the other end.
She conjured the main chandelier to dim dark but kept the bedside lanterns alight.
Evie thought of her meeting, what she'd unraveled and the reactions of her peers.
Lupine and Weasley were alive. She remembered those names vaguely, but not enough where she could place faces to names. Something told her that finding any information of the terrorists wouldn't be Narcissa approved for the Malfoy Library.
Evie wondered whether Lupine and Weasley were students in her year, maybe even in her classes. If they were spoken of between the traitors, they had to be on the wrong side of war. Hardcore Gryffindors or Ravenclaws probably.
From what Phoebe said, Evie didn't have the confidence in believing that Hufflepuffs were made for war.
Whoever they were, she'd have to check the newspapers. Maybe they'd be somewhere in a Hogwarts yearbook? At least she had somewhere to look if Draco didn't want to be helpful.
The bathroom door creaked and a sudden waft of steam curled into the room. Sweet peppermint shampoo caused her nostrils to flare, taking in the scent she hadn't realized she enjoyed so much.
There was shuffling. From what, Evie was too scared to look. Fearing that even if she peaked, she'd see too much skin and regardless if she'd seen all of Draco in one of her memories, it was all too much.
Gods she felt like such a Hufflepuff.
Draco rounded toward his side of the bed, dressed in a stripy pajama set. He sank into the bed like quicksand, yawning the moment his head hit the bed.
Maybe asking him questions about Lupine and Weasley now wasn't the best time. But then again, if she didn't, she may never ask at all.
The reaction of everyone - including the Dark Lord, sent many questions left unanswered and the itch to know was becoming unbearable.
And like a mosquito bite that couldn't be ignored, Evie opened her mouth.
"I don't want to talk about work," Draco interrupted. "Not when we're in bed. Bed is for resting."
Evie clamped her mouth shut. "Alright. What do you want to talk about, then?"
"Nothing." He turned to his bedside table and pulled his wand, and said, "Nox."
The bedroom fell into a distilled silence, unmatched from the darkness that swarmed around her.
Evie hadn't slept in the dark since she returned home from the hospital and the sudden change, the vulnerability, her heart was in her throat.
She pulled the covers to her chin and swallowed her breathing. It didn't stop the fear from creeping in, however.
There was darkness everywhere.
Any moment where a dementor could pounce at her and swallow her happiness. Or for a terrorist to jump out and attack her, killing her before either her or Draco could get their own wand to protect themselves.
They could find her, pin her and threaten her — all in the dark. It'd happened before plenty of times.
Her eyes finally settled into the dark where she could make out vague outlines of everything in his bedroom. Bookshelf, desk, wardrobes and cabinets. Oh gods - what was that?
Odd shapes began moving. Shapes of things she couldn't distinguish. Animals or creatures of another kind. They weren't animals or people. Were they ghosts? Demons?
They moved so strangely and they were getting closer. Nearer to eat her face. To scream in her face until she cried out.
"Evie?" Draco mumbled. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," she managed to whisper.
"You're shivering."
She didn't want to admit it. Couldn't. The embarrassment was too humiliating. Big fighter and Death Eater, soon-to-be wife of Draco Malfoy and proud daughter of the Carpathia family, was afraid of the dark.
Sensing her complaint, Draco shuffled and lit a singular candle on her side. "Better?"
Evie nodded, hoping he sensed that too, but Draco twisted as if to visibly see her response.
"Yes," Evie mumbled out. "Much better. Thank you. Goodnight."
She twisted to face away from him as rapidly as she could. Mortification admitting her cheeks and glistening eyes.
"Goodnight, Evie," Draco said.
And that was that.
—
"There you are my dumpling!"
"Good morning, Eveline," Evie said with a smile.
"How are you, I missed you," Eveline gushed, embracing a hug. She picked at Evie's hair, pinched at her cheeks. "You have grown so much."
That morning, Draco briefed their family's practitioners quick show at the manor. Curnán wrapped a stethoscope over his shoulders and rummaged deep — shoulder deep into his briefcase.
"Is she eating well?" Eveline turned to Narcissa who sat in the corner of the miniature infirmary.
"Better than my son, I will admit. I've asked the elves to proportion the meals properly," Narcissa replied. "Though she does like biscuits a bit too much."
Evie wanted to snarl. Who didn't love biscuits?
Eveline took her wand and tapped Evie's skin in the innermost part of her elbow. Within seconds, her big vein bulged out, glowing like a phoenixes wing.
Evie flinched at the strange sensation. It was cold, but so cold it could've been hot.
A nearby printer started clicking out parchment. When it beeped, Eveline removed the wand and the sensation withered away.
Eveline hummed, reading the paper. "Your Sovereign says you sleepwalk, huh?"
Narcissa's eyebrows lifted with surprise.
Gods she'd forgotten about that name. She'd been so personal about him that she'd familiarized herself with informal chatter.
Evie couldn't begin to understand how awkward it must've been for everyone around her.
"Yes," Evie said, "I only realized a few days ago."
Eveline nodded, exchanged a strange look with Curnán.
"Alright," he said, "I'm just going to take a look at your heart so that we can rule out any arrhythmias."
Evie smiled, nodding. "Alright."
"Cardiovultus."
Quite like the extraction of her blood, Evie's skin turned almost invisible. Her heart glowed like the gold on her fancy necklaces, beating to a funny rhythm. Both Curnán and Eveline watched, as though they were counting.
After a while, her skin regained color and no longer was she able to see inside her body.
"Your bloods are fine," Eveline said, Turning to Narcissa with a wink. "No vitamin deficiencies, also. Blood pressure is a little high. Any comments, Mr doctor?"
Curnán nodded, humming. "We'll prescribe you two potions, one for sleep and one for stress regulation. Pain management — the norm until your head wound is cleared and your amnesia is better handled. Take one of each at night, no more than that to save yourself from addiction. They're incredibly strong so I'll have the Sovereign monitor your prescription."
Evie nodded, saying nothing more.
A free moving quill that floated in the air wrote a prescription. The paper ripped at the top and swirled over to Evie's lap.
"Any other concerns?" Curnán asked, turning back and forth between Narcissa and her.
When they shook their heads, unanimously stating 'no', both Curnán and Eveline smiled and linked arms. With a zap they disappeared into thin air.
"That went rather quickly," Evie commented.
"They're the best for a reason," Narcissa replied, grinning.
Mimicking their action, she linked arms. "I'll take that," she said, snatching the prescription. "I'll go to the pharmacy and have the bottles delivered to your room."
"Thank you," Evie said.
They left the infirmary and passed the library. Heading toward the large greenhouse, their peaceful walk was intercepted with someone Evie hadn't recognised before, apparating into the hallway.
Narcissa, immediately alarmed, shielded Evie from them.
"What are you doing here?" Narcissa snapped. "You're not supposed to be here!"
This mans features were sharp. Jagged. With shoulder length hair, almost mimicking Severus' hadn't it been a little swirly. His skin was as pale snow, perhaps paler should it be possible.
He wore a dark suit with a black shirt, dark green tie and with one breath, Evie felt the heaviness of his magic weigh down the room.
As he opened his mouth, his eyes fell onto Evie. Those silvery-blue hues stared, not studying her head to toe but rather her face. Almost like he sniffed the vulnerability on her.
"Answer me!" Narcissa barked. She pulled out her wand and pointed it at his chest.
The man held up his hands in a defensive manner. "Don't bother," he said, voice a startling hollow, shattered whisper. "I've surpassed my house arrest." He then lifted his left arm and unravelled his shirt, revealing his Mark.
Narcissa, still hesitant, said, "Why are you here?"
He barely shrugged. "I was hoping this was Hogwarts."
"Hogwarts has been warded off for several years, now," Narcissa said. "Nothing but a pile of rubble. Our children go to Durmstrang now."
Another shrug. "I still want to see it." He then leaned to the side and waved at Evie. "Hello."
"Hi," Evie stammered.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Don't answer him," Narcissa interrupted. Wand still out and tension thick, Evie took a step forward, earning a tight writhing hand holding her back. "Stop."
"It's alright," Evie said, sharing a knowing look.
She didn't know this man, but his face was innocent enough. Haunted by darkness and suppression like she was.
Evie closed the distance between them before holding out her hand. "I'm Evie. Evie Carpathia, soon to be Malfoy."
The man stared at her hand as though it were foreign.
He took it, gripped it firmly and shook it. "Credence," he finally got out. "Credence Barebone."
"I can't take you to Hogwarts, but I know somebody who can. Would you like some tea whilst we wait?"
Credence swallowed hard, but then nodded.
The nervousness that waved out of him reminded her of when she first stepped into the manor. Scary, large manor with too many corners to get lost. Too many faces she didn't recognise and couldn't trust. For some reason, she felt necessary to befriend them.
She turned to Narcissa, who gave an unsteady nod. "Alright. I'll send for Blaise."
Evie took Credence by the arm and led him toward a dining quarter nearby the kitchen.
Willow summoned two pots of tea, a fresh platter of buttered crumpets and biscuits for dipping. Narcissa didn't join them, but Evie didn't doubt she had all the portraits spying on their interaction for safety measures.
"So, Credence, tell me about yourself. Why Hogwarts?" Evie asked, pouring them both a cup.
Still unfamiliar with his surroundings, Credence stared around.
The walls were as tall as mountains. Every crevice was pinned with pictures and family portraits, glamoured warm and bright from floating candles, it appeared that Credence hadn't been around magic in a while.
"I'm looking for my phoenix," he said. His accent wasn't local. Not local to the UK either or any European country for that matter. At first Evie thought it to be Irish, but the more he spoke, she realised it was an odd mixture of old English and American. "I remember being told it was in Hogwarts."
"Did you go to Hogwarts?" Evie dunked a biscuit and chewed.
Credence flinched and shook his head.
"Ilvermorny?"
Another shake of the head.
"I wasn't taught magic in any school," Credence barely replied. "I was taught at home."
"Oh," Evie said, "I didn't know you were allowed to do that."
Credence shrugged, not bothering to bate further.
"You must be pretty good if you got your Mark, though," Evie rambled on. She added two cubes of sugar to her tea. "The Dark Lord chooses carefully who he brings in."
"It's itchy," Credence blurted. He brushed a hand over his inner arm, flinching as the serpent wriggled against the skull.
"When did you get it?"
"Last night."
Right. When he completed house arrest. How had she forgotten that house arrest was given to criminals? The colour drained from Evie's cheeks and she slurped her tea a little too loudly.
As she was going to ask more questions, Blaise zapped into the room. His face didn't move an inch when his eyes fell onto Credence, though tightened as he noticed Evie sat beside him.
"Barebone," Blaise drawled in greeting.
Credence's gaze dropped to the ground. "Zabini."
"You two know each other?"
"Everyone knows who he is," Blaise said, nodding over at Credence who shifted in his seat.
Was that a bad thing? Being known?
Lots of bad people were known, Harry Potter for one. But Credence had the dark mark so why was everyone so bitter with him?
"I was told you were looking for Hogwarts, so I've come here to take you." Blaise gestured for Credence to move, who did so with urgency. Before apparating away, he turned to Evie and said, "Wait for me to return. We need to talk."
Confused, Evie didn't have time to respond before Blaise vanished. Minutes later, he returned, his expression a little more condescending.
Blaise sat where Credence did and leaned back in his chair. It took a moment for him to speak. "Although I trust you to hold your own now that you're capable of learning magic with your wand again, but I insist on warning you to keep away from someone like Credence Barebone."
Evie's mouth twisted. "Why? He's got the Mark, surely he's trustworthy."
Blaise took a long breath. He eyed the room around, as though to think how to piece his next sentence together. "Barebone only got the Mark to keep him in line. The Dark Lord still cannot trust him fully."
"Is he some sort of criminal?"
Blaise laughed at that one. "No? Yes? He's got a history of being a dark wizard. Has a history of flipping between allegiances too."
That'd be why people were uncertain around him, then.
"He mentioned that he never went to a wizarding school..."
Blaise nodded. "Gellert Grindelwald taught him." A name she'd definitely heard before. "Then trained with the Dumbledore family."
An incredibly skilled wizard, no doubt. These names, all she'd remembered and heard of. Powerful — incredibly powerful people. And yet, Credence looked like he wouldn't hurt a bat. Funny how looks can deceive.
"What did he do to get his Mark?" Evie asked, her curiosity growing wilder than vines attached to a pillar.
Blaise drank the tea she'd poured out for Credence. "From what Barebone himself admitted, he was angry at Grindelwald for using him as a pawn in his own revolution years ago. When the Dark Lord was searching for the Elder Wand, Barebone told him where Grindelwald was imprisoned."
Normengard Castle, Austria.
"But didn't everything with Grindelwald happen nearly a hundred years ago?" Evie couldn't wrap her mind around it. "Shouldn't he be...old and wrinkly?"
Blaise snorted. "Barebone supposedly died in 1932 but between then and 1937, he trained with the Dumbledore family. When the Dumbledore's learned that Barebone's magic was unpredictable and explosive, unmanageable even by a family as powerful as theirs, they froze him."
"Froze him? What do you mean 'froze him'?" Evie blinked back rapidly.
Blaise took out his wand and summoned a cloud where a picture emerged.
A tiny but sleek instrument — needle more specifically. Detailed with swirls and a handle on the end, nearing to a dagger fairies would use in battle.
"Burkynstad Needle," Blaise explained, the picture zoomed in to further appreciate its refined detail. "A metal pin, extremely rare and believed to be one of a twin set owned by Merlin himself. When jabbed into the side of a wizard's or witch's neck, the needle will neutralize them completely. They won't age and won't recognise the world around them unless it's removed."
"The Dumbledore's did that to him?" Evie's mouth dropped in shock.
A family once respected, completely down the drain simply because they couldn't handle the power of another wizard. It was ironic, seeming it'd been the same story with the Dark Lord.
"This wasn't the first time the Dumbledore's abandoned him, Evie. Where do you think he gets that atrocious accent from? They left him for America with that god-awful aunt of his."
Gods it gets worse and worse by the minute.
Thank Salazar Draco got rid of that family.
"When the Dark Lord awakened Barebone again, he was furious. Betrayed, of course. Wanted to kill the Dumbledore's himself but Malfoy was already tasked with doing the job. He's been relearning everything just like you, though he's been having more trouble. Powers and all, he's the only one whose an obscurial."
The Dark Lord gave him the Mark to keep him in line.
It was all making sense.
Evie heard of that before, also. Remembered reading it in a book somewhere, either years ago or only recently. But hearing it, she realised what he meant and soon realised why Narcissa was terrified when he arrived at the manor.
A dark, parasitic force created when a child consciously decides to suppress their magical abilities. Or were forced to do so through physical or psychological abuse.
Not even the Dark Lord had that power. It made sense why he'd want Credence in alliance with him. Hell, she'd want that too if she were fighting for a cause.
Then she began understanding Credence's timid-ness. The world had some dramatic changes in the past one hundred years and understandably so, was he nervous around anything and everything and everyone.
If she struggled herself with only twenty or so years, she couldn't believe what one hundred could make her feel.
The atmosphere around her suddenly hollowed. She felt far too selfish and lucky to be brooding about her losses when people like Credence had lost more.
"Barebone is vulnerable and volatile. You have to be careful around him. Not only is he susceptible to his power, but he's incredibly powerful. We need Barebone on our side, so everyone thinks five times before they speak around him."
"How powerful?"
"Apocalyptic."
"Bloody hell," Evie lost her voice. Fear scratched at her throat. She'd linked arms with this man and he had the power to snap her out of existence with the snap of his finger. "Is he..."
She probably shouldn't have asked and from the troubled expression Blaise gave, it was a stupid question.
"Don't tell anybody I told you because quite frankly, what we're talking about now is illegal. I'd be dead if Malfoy hadn't warded the manor so many times. But without the Elder Wand, Barebone belittles the Dark Lord's magic. He was smart to put the Mark on him."
"It doesn't defeat the purpose that he's still more powerful than him," Evie stupidly implied.
"No, I suppose it doesn't. It does keep him controlled, though. He answers to the Dark Lord, now."
None of that was settling. Evie bit her lip, unable to hear any more.
Blaise leaned across the table and squeezed Evie's shoulder. "You'll be alright," Blaise said. "Just don't go around telling people you're being friendly with him. Barebone makes people skittish. Even Malfoy's."
Evie nodded. "Of course."
"I'll see you later."
"See you later, Blaise."