◤ ❝We knew what we were giving up when we joined. I can assure you that it was not as much a sacrifice as you presume it to have been. We lived in fancy houses with silhouettes incapable of love from the moment we were children. Family moved among us like we were nothing more than a piece of furniture acknowledged every once in a while. We sat in meetings of sovereignty and listened to words of spite until they eventually became our own. Finding someone in our lives that loved us was more challenging than finding someone who would reprimand us for our foolishness, and that is why when one was found, we sacrificed everything for them. We don't hold such resentment towards you and your friends because we see you as less than us. Contrary, I believe you were given more. You know enough of compassion to keep you whole. We had so little that destroying it was a quick process, and one that we did not need to recover from. ❞ ― Andromeda Erebus ◢
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CHAPTER ONE: CHAOS
July 5th, 1996
No one knows what the world has to hold for them. Not even those with the Sight could foreshadow certainty of where they will be. If they will be. There are ever-changing decisions that could alter even the clearest of paths, possibilities that could push all previous plans to the brink of nonexistence, and an entire life of consequences that may or may not contribute to what one receives at the end of their days. Although this was true, there was also some truth to having assumptions as to where one will end up. In the Wizarding World, where you are placed at the age of eleven has the ability to determine two things: if you live or if you die at the end of it all, and if you will be the hero or the villain standing on the winning side or the losing one.
Granted, these prestigious placements seemed to be most prevalent for the newest generation when Harry James Potter entered Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with no idea how thick of a line he would draw in the school. There was never a better side. Contrary to what people might say in the history books, both sides had evil living among their flanks. Both sides chased an image of what they wanted their futures to be; both went to incongruous lengths to plead their case, and they each cared little for the person that they were pointing their wands at. One side just happened to love the darker hues, mixing black and green instead of red and white.
Anyone that attended Hogwarts—whether it be past or present—could tell you that the feud between the two of the four houses at Hogwarts reached borderline cynical, that Slytherin and Gryffindor were the elite pair when it came to mutual hatred for one another. It may have had something to do with Slytherin's wicked sense of self-preservation and Gryffindor's inability to think before they stuck their neck out, but there was something dark that had always loomed between the houses. Whether it was Slytherins hexing Gryffindors in the corridors or potions being exploded on purebloods that had half the heart to kill the brave souls that came up with it, the resentment was limitless. From that hatred came the prejudice accusations, ruin of family legacies, and the making of two monsters that had been placed in the darkness long before Slytherin attacked their titles.
Erebus and Malfoy were two of the most notorious names in the Wizarding World, known to most by the pureblood line of Slytherins that came from each descendant. They were also two of the few pureblood families that had yet to have linked heritage to one another. It was only fitting that their names went along with their heavy reputations, with Erebus rooting back to the word 'darkness' itself and Malfoy no less than 'bad faith'. Alastiare Erebus and Lucius Malfoy may not have been the bearers of the burden placed upon their families, but they did little to prevent the same fate they chose from falling upon their only children.
Alastiare Erebus was a man of many names, but the world was only interested in one: Death Eater. Who he was before the moment he received the Dark Mark no longer mattered to people, as he had made the decision at the age of twenty to side with Voldemort on his mission of blood purity and everything after that was an atrocity. He was thrown into the mix of madness, where biased beliefs controlled his motives and what he believed was right. The papers never asked questions about his involvement, barely knew who he was beyond the mask that he wore. They never considered that he had a wife—Celicia, the woman that he met when they were only eleven and sat next to one another their first year of Hogwarts. He loved her. He truly did. Spending so long getting to know someone, living and learning among them, would create a connection between anyone.
It was only rather unfortunate that the compassion he showed her wasn't allowed to overrule how loyal he was to his Lord, a wizard that had been a nonexistent part of the Erebus family's lives until suddenly he was again. This time, it wasn't just Celicia that watched Alastiare's compassion slowly drip out of his willingness to care, detoxing him of everything that he had given to his family in the years of the Dark Lord's absence. Alastiare had become a stranger to his wife in a matter of months following the news of Voldemort's return. Celicia Erebus wasn't the one who spent nights crying over his growing distance, though. No, all of her tears had been spilled the first time that the Voldemort rose and her husband followed along.
Instead, it was a young girl. A little girl that was only just growing up to understand the good and bad of being a witch. A little girl that had always been given much more than anyone else in her school suddenly felt loss for the first time. Andromeda Erebus knew that her family was not as loving as some of the others she knew of. Affection was not as common as it may have been in a half-blood or muggle-born family. She did not run up to her father when he returned home to give him hugs, and she did not go to her mother when she wanted to cry until she drowned in her own tears—but, even with that lack of affection, she still had enough to be satisfied with her life. Then, things began to change. Her father would ignore her greetings, would avoid eye-contact, disappear late at night. It went to the extent of him missing her fifteenth birthday, something that she took pride in pretending didn't affect her.
Gradually, as her father changed, so did she. Her words molded into sharp icicles and were often only covered by a smile that she learned to express once offending someone unknowingly. Her intolerance to the meetings her father dragged her to became an oppressive pain, and Andromeda found comfort in the corners of large manors alongside other pureblood children. The only thing that she ever gained out of those long nights was a developing skill of reading those in the room, questioning what they might be thinking or how they truly feel about those they're conversing with. The beautiful society that she assumed was perfect as a child grew darker as more deceit was exposed to her, and somewhere in between the scandal and lies, she lost trust in people. That left her heart cold to anyone she did not hold with one hand.
Andromeda and Draco Malfoy met long before Hogwarts was ever a part of their lives. With the close ties that Alastiare and Lucius had to each other through a cause less than saintly, it only made sense for their children to be just as closely connected to another pureblood family. So, Andromeda and Draco learned to live around the other's presence. They learned to respect each other, Andromeda that Draco was an insufferable, babbling baby on most days and Draco that Andromeda always looked ready to concoct something mercilessly with a smile. He knew he would rather it not be him, which is why they were courteous to each other when they had to be, acknowledged entrances with nods, and grew up around each other in the house of Slytherin for many years with no problems. Their conversations were particularly dull and respectful, Draco never going to the length of insulting her like he did so many others and Andromeda keeping her remarks about Pansy Parkinson to a minimum, never once stepping the boundary of commenting on their unhealthy relationship.
Then, something changed—or, rather, a lot actually, because the righteous Harry Potter had decided to target their families. Suddenly, all of the presumptions about the Malfoy and Erebus line were being backed up by statements from a boy who knew nothing about what the truth could do to a Slytherin's reputation. Suddenly, the acknowledging nods they gave one another turned into narrowed eyes of understanding; conversations lengthened, and the courteous relationship that they had became one of allegiance.
If someone asked Andromeda who she hated most, who she wished she had the opportunity to curse with every Unforgivable, a moment's hesitation would not come between her lips and Harry Potter's name. Up until her fifth year at Hogwarts, she had stayed away from all of the drama that surrounded the Chosen one. Yes, she participated in the sneers and joined along in rolling her eyes at his idiocy disguised by what people called 'heroism' but she never openly made it her mission in life to destroy his. She didn't have time for that, nor the patience like Draco did.
Her mission changed when Potter began spitting words about how her father was a Death Eater to The Quibbler, blabbering names of those present during Voldemort's return like they were chocolate frogs on his tongue. Her reaction to it had not been as volatile as the ones administered from Draco and Theodore Nott, who both looked like someone gave them the courage to kill without care the moment that they got their hands on the paper. The Slytherin common room had been in uproar that day, with Malfoy using words that would have him condemned to Azkaban in a matter of seconds and Theodore dissolving his quiet persona quicker than Rita Skeeter's quill could write.
The younger years knew to scatter in any direction, while those older than them calmly moved to their rooms and left them to deal with their anger in private. It was one of the few moments where the fifth years began to truly see how close they had become—as Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass kept a close eye on an unnervingly calm Andromeda, Blaise was left to handle Malfoy, Nott, Crabbe, and Goyle while they all radiated off the other's rage. It was no surprise that Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode had not been in attendance.
Life became increasingly difficult after that. People began to stare at the five of them like they murdered all of those people themselves—like they were their fathers. Even though they kept themselves composed enough not to actually inflict any violence upon Potter or his little friends, it couldn't erase the damage that was done. They were still the children of Death Eaters. Still supporters of the Dark Lord by blood, and that wasn't something people forgot. Their identities began to morph around their fathers' crimes, and what little good they thought they possessed seemed to disintegrate the longer that they coped with the pointed looks and tense postures. It was enough to drive anyone mad, no less five fifteen-year-old children that had always been protected from such situations. Their end was much heavier than Harry Potter's. Their lives were also easier to forget.
Andromeda didn't find herself justifying the actions of her father as much as she found herself questioning her own. She wasn't sure when her life snapped in half, bent and jagged and uneven in every area as she gave up efforts to repair it. Her first assumption would be the moment she was born. The next, the moment the Dark Lord returned and took her father with him. The third would be when the school found out the affiliations her family had with the Death Eaters—or maybe all of those assumptions were just paving the path to the final moment where the flexibility of her existence broke. She was unyielding, just as her wand, just as her heart.
"Your mother sent me up here to see if you were ready."
Andromeda flinched at the sound of the voice, her shoulders curling unnaturally towards her chest. She had lived off days of silence for so long that her ears rang slightly at the sentence. No words needed to be spoken between her and her mother as they developed a routine of sleeping through the day, eating every so often that they never once saw one another. It would be the first time since last week that she even met eyes with the woman.
"Andromeda."
Her name fell off her cousin's lips with such effort that she was forced to turn her head. Theodore Nott looked worse off than she remembered him on the last day of school. Wearing his expensive dress robes and fixing his hair didn't change the dark circles under his eyes. Standing straight didn't cover his sullen attitude no matter how hard he tried. After a few moments, his face became blurry, and she had a hard time seeing him stepping forward through her impaired vision. She almost believed she would resist the urge to blink away the weight on her eyelashes, but the second that she felt arms wrap themselves around her, bringing her forward, she let the panic set in. Theodore didn't say anything as she gripped tightly onto his black clothing, ignoring the growing sting from his heart that grew by the second. He parted his lips, trying to figure out what to say to calm her down before they were forced downstairs.
"Mia...Mia, you need to calm down. There are people downstairs that will dig into your wounds without hesitation, and you're going to feel everything from rage to grief when they do, but don't let them think that you're weak. Let them think you are cold. Let them think you have no love. Let them think that you have no heart to bleed for your father, but don't give them the satisfaction of seeing you fall apart. They deserve nothing from you. They definitely don't deserve to have your strength."
"I can't be in a room with them, Theodore," she dismissed sharply, lifting her head just so she could shake it to solidify her claim. She didn't need to go into any further explanation of who 'them' was, nor that they were downstairs for a purpose greater than grieving over a friend. "You know what he will ask me to do in my father's place. They've already begun speaking to the Malfoy's. You know how much judgement those at the Ministry have towards his name for being there that night. Mother saying he was under the Imperius Curse isn't going to protect us forever, no matter what they choose to believe. It might not be spoken aloud, but it will still exist. Even in his death, he is one of them. That mark cannot be erased by something so simple as Sirius Black's wand or Fudge's declaration of innocence!"
Andromeda knew that she was not going to be protected by the Order of the Phoenix or the Ministry of Magic, despite what they saw her father do in his last moments. That was a death sentence within its own to test the limits the Dark Lord had to wavering loyalty. If he found out she sided with the Order instead of him, her mother and Theodore would be dead in seconds. The statements that the Order gave of her father's small act of heroism might have been enough for the Ministry to believe he was under the Imperius Curse for so many years, but it wasn't enough to change the image people had of her family.
It, especially, would not change that a follower the Dark Lord thought so highly of had deceived him. Because of her father's mistake, she knew that she was the one who would have to pay the price. Even at sixteen, she understood very well how the hidden hierarchy worked. They were coming for her, and it was only a matter of time before she was sitting in a meeting in preparation to become everything Alastiare Erebus died defying.
"Listen to me," Theo urged, grabbing a hold of her face to stop her panicking before the whole manor heard their conversation and retaliated. "You are not your father's actions. Those that love you know this. You will never be your father, no matter what the Dark Lord tries to get you to do in place of his death. You told me once before that we aren't defined by who they are, but what we choose to be ourselves. Give them loyalty if that is what they want. Give them every bit of that hatred you feel right now. Bloody hell, Mia, give them nothing. As long as you stay alive long enough to see seventy more years."
Andromeda looked at her cousin to see that his blue eyes were set to steel, liquefying the world whole with a resilience for her to stay alive that screamed that of a Slytherin. After so long of looking at her own, it was reassuring to see the expression on someone else. Her breathing slowly calmed down as she took careful steps out of his grasp, hands reaching up to wipe away the streaks on her newly pale complexion. It was a long second before she spoke again, his previous words still pressing hard on her skull.
She wasn't looking at him the next time she opened her mouth, rather the grey color of her walls that grew duller the longer she stared at them. "How did you deal with it? When your mother passed away."
Theodore was the one to stiffen now, thoughts of Athella Nott taking over his mind as he tightened his jaw with bitterness. The teenage boy knew that he was inclined to answer, regardless of how the topic made him feel, but that didn't make it any easier to peel back all of the protective layers he lived in since she died nine years ago. His mother—Celicia's older sister and Mia's aunt—left him before he had the chance to know much about her. What he did know were bits and pieces. He knew that she had an unfathomable amount of love for him, Mia, and Celicia. He knew that she disliked what her husband did and made sure he knew that. He knew that witnessing her die scarred him in more ways than he would ever admit to anyone. He knew that he had never been the same after seeing the woman who was supposed to love him for much longer wither away until she became nothing at all.
Theodore waited until Mia diverted her eyes away from the walls and back to him, chewing down on his lips with an ancient anxiety that he knew very well. There was something about telling another person, even if it was his cousin, how he felt that terrified him—or, maybe, it had never been necessary until now for him to realize for himself.
"I didn't."
Andromeda's face fell, morphed into something that Theodore didn't know well enough to read. He wasn't going to lie to her, though. There was no point in telling her that she would eventually feel different than she did now, or at the very least, better. Her views on her father's death would change over time, and she wouldn't look at it the same way, but it was always going to hurt. She was always going to feel like a part of her was missing; all of the things that she should have done with him before he died, everything that he missed out on. Theodore just wasn't sure how to tell her that she would never be done missing her father. He would haunt her until the day she died herself.
"Time to face death once again, Theodore."
And so they did.
――――――――――
August 6th, 1996
"Sir, would you like to buy an amulet? It'll protect your pretty friend from evil."
Three heads turned in the direction of the voice, but the one closest to the newest sound just so happened to be Draco Malfoy. Alongside him were his mother and Andromeda, of whom had been the first to see what exactly attracted their attention. A wizard was standing in front of a small booth, looking as though he had just crawled from beneath a pile of soot and grime, with a cardboard sign pinned to the front of the store he was under. Mia didn't need to lift her eyes to recognize it as Flourish and Blotts—or what was left of its former status. The sign said exactly what the sleazy wizard claimed, 'AMULETS' written in large letters with small wording underneath that she could barely distinguish. Only when their footsteps slowed did she see the six words: 'Effective Against Werewolves, Dementors, and Inferi!'
Andromeda's lip quirked slightly in amusement at the irony of the wizard's words, dragging her attention through the small selection of silver amulets that he had in possession. The jewelry couldn't protect her from evil, not when it would have to burn away her own skin to ensure safety. Draco's interest fell more on the culprit behind the merchandise, his back straightening after realizing the question was directed at him.
Narcissa Malfoy, to her left, seemed less that pleased to have been stopped for such a reason and let a gruff in mild exasperation before urging them forward. She and Draco slowly walked behind as they got even closer to the booth. Something about the way the man stared at her as she passed set her off, and even when Draco adjusted his eyesight over to her in warning, it didn't stop the trigger inside of her mind from pressing play. With a careful movement from her wrist that anyone could have misinterpreted and the chime of Incendio pressing on her skull, the booth set to flame as they walked past.
The wizard's shout in alarm was enough for Narcissa to turn her head back around to the two teenagers, her eyes boring holes into them before glancing past at the vendor who was failing to put out the fire. A sigh escaped her lips before she turned back around. Her small scold was nothing compared to the moment that she turned around, though. Draco's hand was on her arm in seconds, grabbing a tight hold of her flesh through the thick material of her sleeve.
Hissing under his breath at Mia, the blonde-haired boy didn't bother with kindness. "What the hell happened to subtlety, Andromeda? The Ministry will be onto us in seconds!"
Mia's eyes were cold as she glared at the boy, the two of them stopping just outside of Madam Malkin's place. "As if they could determine it was me who set the flame when there are dozens of other underage wizards in Diagon Alley right now. The Weasels have their store just down the street, Draco. I wonder how many imprudent Gryffindors are parading in there at this moment. Now, release me before your hand ends up worse than that wizard's precious amulets."
Draco was just as direct with his irritation, glowering her way before releasing her reluctantly. He harshly grabbed a hold of the door, jerking it open and walking through before she even had the opportunity to step forward. Mia ignored the urge to scream in frustration, or at least burst every single window in the vicinity of her body, before going into the store herself. She knew that he was irritated with her for more than just her impulsiveness.
Having to be stuck in the Malfoy manor with him for the last month had been challenging to say the least. Much more, the activities that Bellatrix Lestrange had forced them into pursuing during their break. Draco, in an effort to learn Occlumency, had to have someone to push into his mind. Bella had adopted a sick, sadistic way of accomplishing that by making Andromeda go through his mind. It lasted for two weeks. She knew because she counted every morning she dreaded waking up. For two weeks, she rooted through the mind of Draco Malfoy until he lost his sensibility to emotion. Learning the ins and the outs of his subconsciousness. Knocking down walls and barriers that he had carefully placed to hide secrets he wanted no one to know.
She wished she could say that everything she saw made no difference in their relationship. That seeing memories of Lucius Malfoy screaming at him to behave weren't permanently branded into her own mind, or that all of the times he was reprimanded for his foolishness didn't make her flinch as if it were her own skin being scarred by hatred. Bella knew what she was doing by sending her into a friend's mind. Something was broken between them in those fourteen days—a part of Draco cowered away from her presence now. She knew more about him than anyone else, and it terrified him to the point of pretending it didn't.
The Dark Lord had finally gotten to them only days after the meeting with the few other Death Eaters. This time, the meeting was one-on-one. There was no reason for why they couldn't stare into the red pupils that screamed an unjust crime. Mia didn't have Draco there as her crutch to stare upon; she didn't even have Bellatrix's nails in her thigh, digging deeper and deeper to remind her she could still feel pain.
What she did have was a mission—or three, to be exact. One would be accomplished with the aid of Draco, another on her own that involved a specific teacher at Hogwarts. The last one, however, was much different. The last mission was only a possible scenario that she would have to make her own. It would only be hers if Draco failed his, a situation that she would do everything in her power to prevent if she had her way. Their failure to complete any part of their missions would mean the deaths of their families. They had no choice. Not when it came to the few that they loved.
"Oh, it's horrible! People are terrified to go anywhere now-a-days! You wouldn't believe how many customers I've lost in the last few months!"
Madam Malkin's voice interrupted Mia's train of thought as she drifted silently to the racks of dress robes. The woman's outburst made her lips spread to a thin line. It was true that fear had spread like wildfire, not just in the Wizarding World but everywhere. The Death Eaters were growing ruthless in their antics. Their lord was back, and chaos followed along with no one to contain them. Not only did Diagon Alley look like it had been scorched to the ground by a Norwegian Ridgeback, but only a month ago did they tear apart the Millennium Bridge with hundreds of muggles on it. The Dark Lord was gaining momentum in the war, and the Ministry of Magic had only just begun fixing the issue within their own walls with the news of Fudge's replacement. Andromeda's bemused expression was followed by a bitter taste of iron in her mouth as she tried to shake her mind of the events she was now assisting in.
Narcissa didn't seem interested in engaging in a conversation with the hysteric witch, her mind elsewhere as she shifted her eyes between the colors of dress robes for men and women. Draco was determined to be as far away from Mia as possible, hidden from her view by a few wooden compartments meant to hold more robes. Rolling her eyes didn't seem to justify her agitation as she continued to move through the dresses accordingly, curling her lip in disgust at a select few designs.
At one point, she did manage to find a styling that she rather enjoyed. The only issue was that it was in white, and she didn't see herself wearing white much anymore with current circumstances. When showing it to Narcissa, the woman's eyes immediately shifted to the long sleeves before nodding in approval. It was at that time that Draco moved from behind the cabinet, a set of emerald green robes on his body, with Madam Malkin and his mother both inching towards him to inspect.
Unbeknownst to the three that were shopping inside, the Golden Trio of Gryffindors just decided on entering the same place. Harry Potter did not expect to hear anyone but his friends' bickering when he walked into Madam Malkin's. So, when a familiar voice fled through every wall within the store, he couldn't help but jump in surprise at the abruptness of it. Maybe the surprise was more from the person that spoke rather than the disturbance itself because, just as the door closed behind them, they caught the end of a previous conversation that had to have begun moments before.
"... not a child, in case you haven't noticed, Mother. I'm perfectly capable of doing my shopping alone. Celicia isn't even here."
If Draco Malfoy had not been enough to stir weariness within Harry, the name of Celicia Erebus did. Even Hermione and Ron were in the right mind to hesitate before they took another step further into the store. Any mention of the Erebus family was enough to have them treading on a thin, thin piece of ice. He figured that if Malfoy decided to bring up Celicia's name, her daughter would not be far behind, which shouldn't have been much of a surprise. The Quibbler already informed the world that the two families spent the summer together. It wouldn't be that shocking to see that they were shopping for dress robes together, as well. Knowing that Draco Malfoy was the least of his worries unsettled Harry so much that he had the urge to call for Hagrid, who opted on standing outside.
There was a scoff that Harry barely heard, hollowed out by the racks of dress robes, before a clucking noise and voice followed after in response to Malfoy's complaining. "Now, dear, your mother's quite right. None of us is supposed to go wandering around on our own anymore, it's nothing to do with being a child..."
"Wouldn't want you caught up in the wrong crowd, now, would we, Draco?"
The response came from another familiar voice, now clearer than the scoff had been, yet this one created a sliver of panic beneath his spine. Harry hadn't seen Andromeda Erebus for more than a month. Not since he accidentally caught her eye as she was walking past their compartment on her way to the other Slytherins the last day of school. He may have envisioned her father in his nightmares just as much as he did Sirius, but he took pride in trying not to think about his classmate in the middle of it all. He didn't need to feel any grief that wasn't his own.
"Could you create any other color besides white?"
Harry assumed Madam Malkin looked back upon the question, enough for her to lose her focus for a moment because Malfoy was shouting at the woman only a second later. "Watch where you're sticking that pin, will you!"
Harry, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger were all glued to the floor as they attempted to process the chaos that they just willingly gave themselves up to. They might as well have trapped themselves among a sea of serpents. Not five elevated heartbeats later was Draco Malfoy shuffling into their view, wearing a set of dress robes that looked too glamorous for someone with such pale hair to own. The teenage boy still hadn't noticed the three standing in the doorway, examining himself in the mirror the same way Harry was examining the boy with distaste. His face was pointed, still as sharp as it had been for the last five years, and still eager to sneer at anyone he thought to be lesser than him—which, in his eyes, was everyone. So, when he happened to look past his own reflection and saw just that, he twisted from revulsion.
"If you're wondering what the smell is, Romy, a Mudblood just walked in."
The same could not be said for Andromeda's health. The sixteen-year-old had been speaking softly with Narcissa about the color of the dress in her hands when she heard Draco's announcement. She was more surprised that he called her Romy—a personally designated nickname limited to himself only—as he hadn't titled her that way since she invaded his mind. That, along with the disgust in his tone, was enough to gain her attention and lead her towards the front of the store. Even she could not hide the look of resentment on her face at the sight of Harry Potter. More precisely, the sight of him and one of the little Weasels with their wands pointed at Draco. Still, she remained calmer than she thought she would the first time she saw him, moving slowly to Draco's side.
Harry and Mia inspected one another at the same time. Brown eyes peered questionably into green ones, Andromeda's head tilting slightly as she curled her shoulder inward towards Draco's larger frame. While she was much more acquainted in the art, Harry could see enough from the girl's physical appearance without having to look any deeper into her expressions. She was much paler than she had been before. Even her eyes seemed paler, hollow and withdrawn in more than one way. He noticed how she stood beside Malfoy, too, and how they moved in a familiar routine of being by the other's side. Like clockwork, they depended on the other. An unlikely friendship formed between a pair Harry knew only spoke briefly during school. He couldn't help but feel a grainy taste build up in his throat, as there was truth in knowing that his godfather had caused a large portion of the teenage girl's deathly shape.
Harry wished that Alastiare Erebus had killed Sirius Black instead of the other way around that night at the Department of Mysteries, or that the two of them had been battling each other until they both caught an open window, but that never happened. Instead, the room moved in slow motion as Order members faced off against Death Eaters. Alastiare deflected Avery's curse off Sirius, Malfoy took the chance to aim Sirius's way during his surprise, Sirius's anger from when Malfoy tried his hand at Harry heightened, and the man who saved his life only moments before had been standing a bit too close. Harry wasn't surprised that Sirius had been pushed to the lengths of such a curse. He wished he were. Lucius Malfoy cared little for the lives of other people, and Sirius had already showed on Peter Pettigrew that he did not fear implicating death on those who truly deserved it. It was just unfortunate that it happened on the wrong person.
The weighted stares from Harry and Andromeda were broken when Madam Malkin squealed out at Draco's use of such a profane word, coming out from her place in the back to see the scene unfolding in her store. "I don't think there's any need for language like that! And I don't want wands drawn in my shop either!"
"Like they would actually do anything," Mia muttered lowly so that only Draco could catch her retort, setting the white dress on one of the nearby racks slowly. Raising her voice so that it carried across the room, she let her eyes move over the three with a scorning disapproval. "Is this what constitutes as bravery in Gryffindor? Daring to do magic outside of school? How bold."
Her mockery of their house wasn't enough for Draco, who felt the need to add onto her question as his attention met with the witch who was hidden behind the two larger bodies of Potter and Weasley. "Who blacked your eye, Granger? I want to send them flowers."
"That's quite enough! Madam, please!" Madam Malkin struggled once again to break up the altercation happening inside of her store.
Her disapproval of such things had been clear from the first moment she opened her mouth, but apparently, the woman believed that Narcissa had a better chance of ending things before they got out of hand. As, surely, they were well on their way with the look in the Gryffindors' and Slytherins' eyes. Narcissa came out from the back of the store looking just the same as Andromeda had. Animosity radiated off her as soon as she laid eyes on Harry Potter and his friends, coming from her own place of bitterness that rivaled the others.
Seeing them with their wands pointed at Draco and Mia, however, was another story of her wrath. "Put those away. If you attack either one of them again, I shall ensure that it is the last thing you ever do."
"Really?" Potter's confidence returned despite his discomfort being near Andromeda. It was enough for him to stand up to Narcissa, who he was beginning to compare to Bellatrix. They looked similar enough for him to feel a rumbling emotion in the pit of his stomach. "Going to get a few Death Eater pals to do us in, are you?"
Madam Malkin was the only one to have a reaction, another squeal coming from her lips as she clutched her heart at the accusation of her costumer. "Really, you shouldn't accuse...dangerous thing to say... wands away, please!"
Her request was not granted. It only brought more tension to the room as the three across from Harry took their time to digest his words, all skilled enough on the subject to keep themselves vacant of any relation with the Death Eaters. Draco's hand did move lower to the wand kept in his pocket, though. Andromeda—no matter how well she maintained control of her expressions—felt a cold front pass through her bloodstream, freezing her in place as she tried desperately hard to keep herself from murdering Potter herself. If he truly wanted a Death Eater to do him in, she would gladly be the one to take the offer. Her methods would not be any more merciful than if she were Fenrir Greyback or Voldemort himself.
Narcissa, however, only smiled unpleasantly at the young boy. "I see that being Dumbledore's favorite has given you a false sense of security, Harry Potter. But Dumbledore won't always be there to protect you."
"Wow, look at that. He's not here now!" Potter had completely lost his mind as he looked around the room, acting as if he just swallowed a bottle of liquid courage before entering the store. Mia bit down on her tongue, the idea of Potter thinking he had no consequences to what he said only heightening the desire to show him that he did. "So, why not have a go? They might be able to find you a double cell in Azkaban with your loser of a husband!"
Draco's compartmentalization went straight out the window at how Potter dared to speak. Forgetting the long length of the robes on his body, rationality was blinded by the rage of Potter mentioning his mother in such a way. He made a quick move for The Boy Who Lived, all but lunging at his jugular in an attempt to throttle him until he was The Boy Who Died. Andromeda had foreseen the problem of the situation, and stepped to grab Draco's upper left arm the same moment he stumbled over his robes.
The damage had been done, though, and Weasley's laugh burst through the room as Draco snarled his next words with venom present in every syllable. "Don't you dare talk to my mother like that, Potter!"
Mia was still restraining the blonde-haired boy, half of her body turned in his direction to keep her left arm across his figure. Her only hope was that the Golden Trio didn't notice the caution she took to the hold she had on Draco. Just a few inches lower on his arm and just a strong push against hers, they'd both be howling like wolves. If they put the pieces together, there was no telling what would happen to them. She might have been trying to keep him controlled for her safety as much as his own, as no good would come from Potter dying but their own personal satisfaction. He hadn't once glanced down at her, but she could see with a quick, concerned glimpse his way that he wasn't going to fight against her.
Her head was still in the right direction for her eyes to meet Weasley's, who was clutching his chest to laugh up until he caught her sharp gaze. "Continue your laughing and you won't have a tongue to choke on, Weasley."
"It's all right, Draco." Narcissa didn't turn to her son as she spoke, acutely aware that the teenage girl behind her was controlling the situation. Mia let out a muted sigh of relief when Draco's muscles relaxed enough for her to hesitantly let go of his arm, able to turn herself back right again from behind Narcissa's right shoulder. "I expect Potter will be reunited with dear Sirius before I am reunited with Lucius."
She felt no pity when she watched Potter recoil at the mention of Sirius, holding his wand higher as a way to compensate for the evidence of pain. Good, Andromeda thought. He deserved to hurt. He deserved to have that small second of panic where he remembered that Sirius was gone and that he could do nothing to bring him back. She'd not been able to relinquish her own thoughts of her father. Evidence of his very demise was scarred on her skin forever. She simply wasn't allowed to forget, and if she had it her way, she would make sure Harry never forgot that same feeling for as long as he lived, too. If she could not hate Sirius for what he did, then she would hate the person that he died protecting. Death followed Harry Potter wherever he walked.
Hermione was the only one who see how bad things could turn if Harry attacked any of the three. "Harry, no! Think... you mustn't... You'll be in such trouble!"
Andromeda could have replied with a thousand different responses to the intelligent girl, who looked absolutely horrid with her bruised eye as she tried to push his arm back down. Possibly that the Ministry loved the Chosen One too much to ever charge him for underage magic outside of school. It'd happened before. Maybe they would use the excuse that Draco or she had raised their wands first, a statement that was entirely untrue as they were currently without any defense against him. Maybe it wouldn't make any difference what happened. With their ties to Voldemort in the last few months, there would be nothing stopping the Ministry from accusing them of initiating the assault if they did so or not.
Regardless, her words were silenced before they ever left her mouth when Madam Malkin subtly walked over to Draco, moving into the empty space between the two teenagers to continue sizing his dress robes like nothing happened. "I think this left sleeve could come up a little bit more, dear, let me just..."
"Ouch! Watch where you're putting your pins, woman!" And like that, Andromeda's caution evaporated into thin air when Draco jerked his left arm harshly away from Madam Malkin. His eyes were covered with hatred from his anger at numerous amounts of people in the room, and that showed when he turned to his mother, livid. "Mother, I don't think I want these anymore."
To prove his point, he pulled the dress robes over his head and threw them at Madam Malkin's feet. The white dress that Mia considered forgotten in the back of her mind as she readied herself to leave alongside the Malfoy's. They had done their damage for the day. She wasn't going to continue to push at the boy with remarks that only wounded his precious ego, no matter how amusing it might be. In the end, they would be forgotten. She refused to let the pain she made Potter feel be forgotten because it was concealed with insults that of a first year.
"You're right, Draco. Now I know the kind of scum that shops here... We'll do better at Twilfitt and Tatting's," Narcissa said, past the matter of concealing her emotions from the three. She made sure to look Hermione's way when she said so, tying blood purity back into the mess that was already created before it ever came to that.
Reassured that they had the last word, Draco and Narcissa started on their way to the door; Draco, of course, made sure that his shoulder banged as hard as possible into Ron while exiting. Andromeda was still in the same place as before, staring heavily at Harry Potter with her thoughts still ringing in her skull. She was almost unwilling to leave, knowing that this would be the last time she saw him before school began again. That would leave her back to creating scenarios of his destruction. It wasn't enough. Ten minutes of his time was not enough to avenge the month that she spent in absolute hell, giving Bellatrix permission to question her sanity and control the switch she had on her compassion. She wanted to see him withering on the floor because he hadn't properly deflected the Cruciatus curse. She wanted to force him inside of Weasley's mind and learn about all of the things he hid from his best friend.
But she couldn't. Instead, she had to settle for the ten minutes as she bitterly clenched her jaw together. She moved for the door that Draco and Narcissa already exited, trying to stay silent while three pairs of eyes cautiously wondered what she was going to do. She would have done nothing. If Potter hadn't made the decision to open his mouth, she would have kept her mouth shut, but he did and she didn't.
"Andromeda—"
"If I hear anything else come from your mouth, you'll lose your tongue alongside Weasley." She could hear her anger rising to the surface as she got to the end of her sentence, turning to look at the boy only a few inches from her. The look on his face was still not rewarding enough. "I am Slytherin, Harry Potter. I have always been just that, even before you knew that there was magic running deep inside of you. If you believe for one moment that I am anything less than capable of doing unforgivable things to you without a moment's hesitation, you are wrong; but that will not be because of my house or the color you see on my robes. It will be for my family, as you have tied the rope around my father's neck and condemned my mother to a life as a widow. I am not Draco. I do not have fun watching you stumble on insults, and I will not push back with petty remarks. I am the silence of his storm, Potter, and he is the calm beneath my rage. You will find hell in our names and darkness in our hearts. Mine has always been thicker than his. Expect no mercy from me."
Mia finally got what she wanted. Potter's face dropped quicker than she had ever seen, and she knew that she struck a nerve deeper than anything Narcissa and Draco would ever spit in his face. He could see that she truly meant all of what she said. And he might believe it was an empty threat and that she was acting out of grief, but he would see eventually what he had done to her life. Her hatred stemmed deeper than he would ever understand, her loss on a scale much larger than the death of her father. Her family was now a target to the Dark Lord. Her mother, a widow. Her reputation, stained. Her life was now following a wizard who believed in annihilation and destruction, who found a thrill in the Dark Arts that brewed with cruelty and injustice.
She was now a witch who believed in annihilation and destruction, and found a thrill in the Dark Arts that brewed with cruelty and injustice. Harry Potter took everything from her and left her no better than the person she promised herself she would never become. Because of that, she would never forgive him. Theodore had been correct when he said she was not like her father. Instead, she was worse.
――――――――――
Andromeda was now a distraction. She and Draco realized after the previous discussion at Madam Malkin's before the Golden Trio decided to interrupt that it would be difficult to get away from Narcissa, who had insisted the three of them stay close together while shopping in Diagon Alley. It didn't help that Potter and his friends had their wands out and ready to curse the two Slytherins at the mere sound of their voices; there was no telling what someone else would do if they recognized them as the children of convicted Death Eaters.
Contrary to what his mother believed, their purpose for leaving the manor was more than just finding appropriate dress robes for the new school year. Therefore, Draco and Mia had come to the compromise while harshly whispering in a corner of Twilfitt and Tatting's that she would keep his mother occupied while he went to Borgin and Burkes to ask a few questions regarding their mission to the Dark Lord. Draco had made a point to ignore his mother the moment they fled the store, making it much easier to lessen the suspicion of his absence if she were to call out for him.
As Draco swiftly made his escape, Mia was left alone with the woman who created him. Her relationship with Narcissa was not as complicated as one might have expected. She had been a part of her life since she could remember, both because of Alastiare and Lucius being acquaintances and she and Celicia friends. Given that Bellatrix found any means necessary to spit disapproval into her skin, the same was to be assumed by her younger sister. Sharing a name with Andromeda Tonks worked against her more than her parents believed it would when they named her after the constellation, but not with Narcissa. Even though she noticed the small discomfort any time she said her name, it was hidden by the reminder that the girl in front of her was not the older sister she disowned, but the daughter of her closest friend.
She walked out of a changing compartment to reveal the set of dress robes that she picked out first to Narcissa. It hung a bit awkwardly at her neck with how high it raised, and the bottom of it was so long that she was nearly tripping over her own feet, but the red lace bodice covered enough so that the stinging reminder on her left arm was hidden. That was one of the main reasons she had been forced to buy dress robes in the first place. She had grown familiar with long-sleeves in the past weeks, where even in the security of the Malfoy manner, her clothing almost always covered her arms. She still hadn't determined if it was because she feared someone would notice the mark that was scarred into her skin or if she simply didn't want to see it herself.
Regardless of the flaws that could easily be mended, the dress was still beautiful, even if it was in a color that represented many things she despised. "That one looks beautiful with your hair. The neck will have to be adjusted, as well as the length, but it suits you. Much better than the white one."
The compliment was not lost in Mia's ruffling of the tulle-like texture as she stood in front of a mirror, inspecting the dress and its traits. The teenage girl looked beyond her reflection to see that Narcissa was shuffling around the different fabrics and designs currently present for witches, but had stopped upon seeing Mia. While her lips never moved further than a straight line, her eyes showed obvious enjoyment in being able to shop for dresses. When Andromeda was younger, Narcissa and Draco often joined she and Celicia while shopping. Only ever having a son meant that she was limited to these special moments, especially with one absence in their grouping of four. Even with the dark cloud looming over their shoulders and recent events with Potter, Narcissa wasn't going to ruin an evening that she rarely had the opportunity to be a part of. No less, have an incredible input on.
Narcissa moved closer to Andromeda with a handful of other dress robe styles, all long-sleeved and in a variety of colors. She was pleased that they had the place to themselves so that they wouldn't be disturbed, and carefully reached for the teenage girl's left arm. Even though it was healing quickly, it didn't stop Mia from flinching slightly just as Draco had done back at Madam Malkin's. The only difference was that she kept her tongue in her mouth, and instead let the woman inspect her arm to be certain it covered the mark before letting anyone start the measurements. It was unsettling that nothing could cover up the symbol of the Dark Lord, as Andromeda admitted to have tried every product in her bathroom at the manor to no avail. She was stuck with it, and her opinion on it no longer mattered.
"I wish Celicia were here," Narcissa muttered.
She gently let her limb free, frowning as she waved the seamstress over from her place in the front. The woman, unlike Madam Malkin, was in the right mind to keep her head down as she quickly walked over. She had been around enough pureblood families to understand that her ears did not work properly when in the store, and anything said was immediately forgotten. That, and she had probably heard Obliviate so often that her mind was already a jumbled mess of things.
Narcissa glanced up briefly. "Have you spoken with her?"
Mia's throat dried at the mention of her mother, shuffling uncomfortably and barefoot to the work area in front of another set of mirrors, letting her body stiffen involuntarily when the woman came forward with the pins. Her mother had decided a few weeks ago that she would return back to their own manor, simply stating that she wished to be alone for a while and would inform them if she needed anything. They all unanimously decided that it would be better for Andromeda to continue staying at the Malfoy manor like she had been all summer, if not because of their mission to the Dark Lord than simply because they were in the same, small box of understanding and Narcissa couldn't risk taking that away from either of them. Also, putting Andromeda in a house with her mother while she handled her grief of her husband would only anger the daughter more, and there was already enough vengeance inside of her at the moment.
"She's been sending me letters—asking how Theodore and I are, if you and Draco are well. She's been telling me stories about Father. I think it's her method of coping."
Even if it wasn't Mia's. She put her mother's condition into as few words as possible, her eye on the seamstress as another needle was pushed into the bottom of her sleeve. She hated thinking about her for too long. As much as she loved and cared for her, she couldn't handle grief. She learned that the day she was meant to go to her father's funeral and unraveled in front of Theo. There was something that disgusted her about the idea of being vulnerable in front of someone, another reason why she was empathetic with Draco's detachment to her. Being vulnerable was proof of weakness, just as fear and just as compassion. If she could not exclude herself from fear, she would try to limit herself to compassion and vulnerability at all costs.
All who knew her mother could understand why Celicia Erebus wished to be alone. Not only had she lost her husband—as that would be enough to drive any wife mad, but her brother-in-law had been condemned to Azkaban, as well. Eldrice Nott had been a participant in the battle months ago, and following his capture, Theo was now without a father just as much as Draco. The only difference was that Draco still had his mother. Theodore did not, and that left him closer to his cousin than ever before. They both lost two parents. One to death, and one to a life worse than it.
"Stories?" Narcissa asked, her eyebrows raised in question as she looked away from the emerald dress in her hands. It was nearly the same color as the robes Draco nearly bought in the last shop, except that they were slightly darker. She seemed to have been displeased with the design and put it back on the racks before returning to the others in her hand.
"Of his time at Hogwarts."
Andromeda paused, her tongue pressing up against her teeth as she recalled the last letter sent to her by her mother. It surprised her, to say the least. She would be lying if she said she wasn't upset by it, or that it hadn't added fuel to her desire to fight in the war. More than anything, it hurt her to read. She fled from the thought of her mother's pain while writing it.
"She mentioned that he had been friends with Sirius Black when they were young."
Narcissa stopped what she was doing, the dresses in her hand nearly falling as the blonde woman found an attraction to the wooden floor that she hadn't noticed before. Andromeda hadn't believed her mother would lie to her, but seeing the reaction that came from Narcissa at the mention of the friendship Alastiare had with her cousin only solidified its truth.
A brunt hum fell out of Mia's mouth. "Then, it's true?"
The cold layer that coated those three words was stronger than she meant for it to be, but Andromeda couldn't deny that she wished it was a lie. It only made her father's death more sickening knowing that the man who killed him was not just a familiar face, but a former friend, as well. Alastiare had to have known it would happen in time when he joined the Dark Lord, but she was sure that he didn't realize that the connection would be threaded so deeply. From the words in the letter, it was clear that they had been close enough for Sirius to care about him—which said a lot, as Mia constantly heard about how much of a traitor the man was to the Black name. Not only was he a Gryffindor, but he also ran away from home and befriended the likes of blood-traitors and muggleborns. Her father blinded himself from all of his prejudice beliefs for another boy who blinded himself from his own, too.
"They were well-acquainted with one another, yes," Narcissa muttered, clearing her throat as she recovered quickly and returned to glancing through the dresses. "What did your mother tell you about them?"
"McGonagall partnered them in Transfiguration their fifth year... they would never admit they were friends if ever asked," she paraphrased. She raced through the paragraphs she was envisioning in her mind, sorting through what was important and what she wanted to leave between her and her mother. "That was before he left your family's house, was it not? Mother mentioned that he ran away from home at sixteen once before. Things must have changed after that."
Narcissa didn't speak as an answer, and Andromeda knew that she was uncomfortable with how the conversation was proceeding. When she moved over to the sixteen-year-old, holding up two black dress robes as if to determine which one she liked better on the brunette's figure, Mia knew for certain that was the cause. The seamstress, still silent, moved to measure the circumference of her waist for the current dress on the other side of her body. Mia's attention moved to Narcissa's concentration before she raised her head to look at the door in the back of the store where Draco had slipped out. Even she knew that she was pushing herself on time. It wouldn't be long before his mother requested his presence, if only to see what his robes looked like.
"The one on the left," she decided, nodding to the dress that was being held up. If she was more willing to speak about the attire, then that was what Mia would key into instead of her father and Sirius Black's affiliations. "I have one at home that looks like the other. I wore it to the Yule Ball during the Triwizard Tournament."
Granted, that dress was without long sleeves and would be useless in her life if she ever found the urge to wear it again. She would have to pass it along to one of the girls in her house. If Tracey Davis, one of her closest friends at Hogwarts, had been born into the aristocratic setting of wearing dress robes every day like most pureblood families, she would have considered her first. Maybe she would get use out of it. More than Mia would ever again.
Narcissa pressed her lips together as she inspected it before turning to the Seamstress. "Your... talent gives you the ability to put gold embellishments on the neck. I hope I'm correct to assume you can at least manage that?"
Mia ignored the quick change of attitude between the conversation they were having and her addressing of the Seamstress, knowing that Narcissa's kindness had its limits. The dress in question was already bold with the keyhole that raised to the bottom of her neck, but she couldn't help but silently agree that Narcissa was right with her opinion on the fashion. Adorning the dress with gold embellishments would make it more acceptable in their society, if not because it flaunted her wealth around than because it would make it less austere to what everyone else wore. The last thing that she needed was to show up somewhere with something similar to another pureblood witch's robes. Both she and her mother couldn't face that kind of embarrassment, not now that they were the only ones left to uphold the Erebus name.
The seamstress looked up at the acknowledgement of her existence, glancing at the dress that Narcissa had in her hands before squinting a bit as she contemplated the possibility. "I suppose. How far would you want the embellishments to raise?"
That began a conversation between Narcissa and the seamstress, where the Malfoy woman took great interest in the conversation as they took temporary absence from the red dress that Mia was still wearing, pins and all. It gave her the opportunity to look to the back once again, this time noticing that the door had just been cracked open and a body slipped through. A deep sigh in relief coursed through her nose, letting her stiff body relax slightly as she was now in the clear of being the distraction. That may not have been her brightest idea, seeing as one of the pins in her wrist went directly into her skin, hitting the exact area of pain and leaving her to hiss out quietly.
"Watch the pins, Romy. They can be quite sharp."
The brunette let her eyes narrow at the voice as she carefully turned to look at the blonde boy that made his reappearance known, sly smirk present on his face and all. He had been smart enough to grab a pair of dark green robes to quickly put on before coming over to her, making it seem like he had only been trying on different ones before he found a suitable match.
She raised her eyebrows at his entering statement before replying with one of her own. "You've already figured that out, though, haven't you?"
Draco's lips dropped to a scowl as he glanced down at his arm, her words reminding him of how his arm still stung from Malkin's attempt to maim him. "My hatred seems to have grown in the past weeks."
Andromeda could only let herself smile halfheartedly, knowing that he was struggling just as much as she to accept their new status. Yes, they knew what they had been getting themselves into when they entered, but that didn't mean that they were given the choice to back out if they so wished to. They were, more or less, the pawns that replaced their fathers. It was only a surprise that the Dark Lord hadn't reached out to Theodore, something that Andromeda knew would be coming in the near future as the second war's mayhem dawns closer and closer each day. She might not have been given a gracious personality to care, but she did have loyalty that could combat with a Hufflepuff. If it came down to it, she would do everything in her power to prevent her cousin from following her path with his father incarcerated and she already caught in the middle of it all.
Just when Mia opened her mouth to ask Draco what happened, Narcissa returned from the front seconds later. The black dress was out of her hands as the seamstress moved to put on the embellishments, which was unsurprising considering her ways of convincing others. At least Mia knew that she would be leaving with two more dress robes to add to her collection, as the number was recently cut in half. Maybe she was bitter.
Narcissa glanced over at her son, eyes lighting up the way only a mother would look at her child, before diverting them down to the dress robes on his body. "Those are much better than the rags that useless woman was trying to sell us... they'll do. Now, let's get your measurements before anyone else is brave enough to threaten you."
As if they had prepared it beforehand, a scoff escaped Draco and Andromeda's lips at the same time. They may not be strongest when standing alone, but together they were able to fill in what the other lacked. His usage of a wand counteracted her comfort without one. Her invasion of one's mind was blocked by his deflecting of such. She was the silence of his storm, staying behind and watching as his hatred filled up the entire premise; he was the calm beneath her rage, giving her enough time to see the larger picture instead of the smallest one covered by her resentment. They caught one another's stare, and Mia didn't need to look inside of his mind to know that he was thinking the same thing as she: let them try.
Because, together, they were enough to drive anyone mad. Possibly even themselves.
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Let me know what you think!
CHAOS: VOID BETWEEN HEAVEN AND EARTH