◤ ❝Darkness festers. It lingers, and it haunts, and then finally it consumes until you are filled hollow with it. Pitiful, really, thinking that I could ever be saved. My consumption of darkness is unrivaled.❞ ― Alastiare Erebus◢
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CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE: MENOETIUS
May 2, 1997
The atmosphere at Hogwarts cheered up from an air of doom and gloom for a few days. The Daily Prophet was now garnered the Deathly Prophet by the Slytherins, seeing as the only updates written anymore were damp and depressing notices of deaths. Andrew mentioned more than once that editing them was getting to his father, Corvelius Vaisey used to writing the drama of the Wizarding World and now only answering to murder. While everyone else buzzed around excitement over the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw Quidditch match coming up for the championship, the Slytherins were less-than-pleased to be so low in points for the year. They had, of course, had a terrible year with a terrible amount of misfortune happening to their players.
"―well it all went awry when Malfoy decided to ditch the team like his girlfriend's name―pansy," Tracey scoffed under her breath, crossing her arms over her chest in frustration at the table. Everyone was half asleep as they listened to her rant. "Then our best player got bludgeoned in the head with a bludger―sorry, Vaisey, sensitive topic, I know, and THEN right when I suspected things were looking up for our House, Nott goes and gets ill an hour before a match, leaving Mattins to break a spine and lose the match for us... AGAIN! I'm telling you. Potter cursed us when he became Captain."
Theodore and Andrew met eyes briefly, falling in the same line of thought before they returned back to their lunch. The topic of Quidditch was sensitive for both of them, especially Andrew seeing as it was his last year of playing and they were already out of the running. Sitting diagonal to Theodore was Draco, his glower only becoming unbearable on the head of the girl in front of him, who had her forehead pressed down on the table and threatened to get soup in her hair.
Blaise scowled at Tracey, looking up from his plate. "Are you quite done yet? I have a migraine, Davis. I'm only a word away from naming it after you."
"No, I am not 'quite done' and if Daphne would hurry up and get here, she'd be taking my side. You lot are acting like it's perfectly fine that Potter gets to boast around this year claiming the Quidditch Cup! He has Weasley on his team. He should be thanking every one of his damned dead relatives that Bell returned in time to play the championship. "
The mention of Katie Bell's return to Hogwarts struck the nerve of more than one person seated at the table. Andrew's face fell blank, the vivid image of seeing the girl strung up in the air still haunting him, and even the time after when he visited her in the hospital wing. His reaction was minimal compared to two others. Draco's stare could have cut through the air, thankful when the head he'd been glaring at looked up and instantly caught his gaze. For the first time in too long, she paid attention to him, concern lighting up at the mention of Katie Bell around Draco.
"―can you believe that? The girl is gone all year, and then she just happens to come back right before―"
Mia sat up straighter, her face cold upon Tracey's rant. "Mute yourself, Davis. No one wants to hear it right now."
Davis grumbled silently into her lunch much to everyone's relief. Mia relaxed, her and Andrew catching one another's eye so that he could send her a thankful smile. She nodded once and then turned straight ahead again, plenty prepared to lay her head back down against the cool wood. Before she could do so, there was an aggressive kick to her shin, waking her up instantly. Her dark, brown eyes scalded the boy in front of her, whose previous discomfort over the mention of Bell was masked by his frustration over Mia. He scowled back at her, his grey eyes burning into every feature on her face.
Andromeda was not telling Draco anything and he was ready to blow a fuse. Ever since she returned from meeting with Slughorn, she'd been acting differently. Unfortunately for her, Draco knew her better than that by now. Her dismissive and distant attitude toward him meant that Slughorn told her something she hadn't wanted to hear―or, perhaps, something true that she didn't believe―and rather than hearing Draco agree with it (or provide rational understanding) she shut him out in all her stubborn, frustrating glory. He truly hated her sometimes.
Their exchange was cut short when the evening mail came, the Daily Prophet and other miscellaneous packages landing on the dining tables of every House as they scrambled to pick it out of their food. Mia knew something was wrong instantly. The twitch in her muscles told her that eyes were suddenly boring into her back, and she sat up straighter. She turned to look in the direction of the Evening Prophet Daphne had in her hands. The blonde girl sat down quietly, staring at the paper. Blaise stopped eating suddenly when he saw the front page, his gaze flickering over to Mia and Theodore.
"What?" she gritted out through a clenched jaw. "What is it?"
The sounds of whispering got louder behind them. Theodore's eyes narrowed on Daphne, who was now refusing to look at him, her eyes welling up with tears. "Daphne. What's wrong?"
Mia had had enough of the secrecy and lunged forward, quickly ripping the Prophet out of Daphne's hands before she even had the chance to keep it away. Theo leaned up against her shoulder, the two of them looking at the front page at the same time.
"I'm so sorry."
Her eyes traced over the words a million times, never managing to get to the end before she was rereading the sentences over and over again. Then, a sickening feeling erupted in her gut and she felt the urge to vomit, pushing herself up from the table and leaving the paper behind. She hadn't realized her fingers were secured tightly to the robes of Theodore until he was being yanked up, blanched and cold to the touch as he refused to let go of the Daily Prophet.
Draco watched the faces of Theo and Mia morph from frustration to a gut-wrenching horror that he would never forget―the way her fingers clutched on Theodore, hands turning white as a ghost as they traced every word―and when she finally looked up, Draco had to remember that too. Mia was up and out of her seat in seconds, Theodore stumbling to his feet directly after her, lost in a daze until he dropped the Daily Prophet completely. Draco instantly reached for it, his eyes traveling over the Prophet quickly, and then his blood turned cold.
THE EVENING PROPHET
Edited by: Corvelius Vaisey
"DEATH ROLL RISES WITH FIRE AT RADNOR MANOR"
Aurors from the Ministry of Magic have just confirmed that the death toll has been raised. After an anonymous report of an incident happening at the Radnor manor, home of Kal and Eleanor Radnor, Aurors arrived on scene to discover the manor ablaze. There has been official confirmation of Kal Radnor's death at the age of ninety-one, with Eleanor Radnor currently in St. Mungos awaiting further diagnosis. They are the parents to the late Athella Nott, whom the Ministry lost nearly a decade ago to dragon pox, and the in-laws to the late Alastiare Erebus, murdered by Sirius Black nearly a year ago. Kal Radnor is survived by his youngest daughter, Celicia Erebus, and his two grandchildren, Andromeda Erebus and Theodore Nott.
There is speculation that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was involved in the incident at the Radnor manor, but there has been no further notice of this. More updates will come as they are delivered to the Ministry.
―――――――――――――
Draco ended up on his way to the Room of Requirements after making a stop in the common room and realizing the cousins were not there. Three quick paces, and he was entering the dusty, old room and walking the broken path to the center where the Cabinet sat. Just before he stepped completely out of the lining of miscellaneous things, he paused. Andromeda and Theodore were leant against the chair, their hands locked together so tightly that Draco wondered how they hadn't turned blue yet. Something hollow was left in the faces of the cousins as they muttered quietly to one another, neither one showing any present emotion―not even grief coming out to say hello. Draco had to remind himself how acquainted the two of them were with loss by now.
Theodore's jaw clenched, and he glanced down at their hands, rings dim in the light. "I'll write to Aunt Cece."
"No. I'll do it," she replied hoarsely, nodding once. Her eyes flickered up from their unwavering spot on the creaky floor to see Draco standing off to the side. "Dumbledore will want to meet with us. When Father died, he requested a meeting to speak with me. I'm sure he'll do the same now."
"Do you want to speak with..."
She snorted and darted her eyes away from Draco to Theo. "Not particularly, no."
"All right then. I'll stand by whatever you decide to do," he nodded. His blue eyes finally picked up on the shadow in the corner, his mouth twisting tightly in indifference. "I need to go find Andrew. He'll be worried about us...you'd think we'd be used to the pitying stares by now, wouldn't you?"
Theodore and Mia shared one last look with one another. The cousins had experienced loss in every degree possible―a parent, a grandparent, an aunt and uncle―and every time it happened, their reactions became less...of something that could never be explained. They lost more every time. Theo pressed a kiss to the side of her head and squeezed her hand, then he released it to stand up. He stuck his hands out to pull her to her feet as well, then he was turning around in the direction Draco stood. A small nod was passed between them before her cousin disappeared, and Mia stared at Draco. He took a step forward into the Room.
"Romy, I―"
"What is the likelihood that it was Grandfather who was killed?" she asked bluntly, her eyes narrowing ahead in thought. "My grandmother is a foul woman, constantly berating her blood because no one met her expectations of a perfect family. She has abused my mother her entire life without end and neglected to care for either of her daughters, even when Aunt Athella was ill. How is it that she managed to survive? And he died? Him―who remembered every birthday Theo and I have had for seventeen years even when our parents didn't, and loved us, and―" she stopped, glancing ahead at the Cabinet. "Is that all my family is good for? Death and wrongdoing?"
Draco didn't know what to say to her. For once in his life, no words could comfort her. "It must have been him. Grandmother has been running her mouth off about how the Dark Lord is a buffoon and she would rather rot in a grave than see anyone else in her family follow after him," she flickered her eyes over to Draco, and his back straightened. "I'm sure he didn't feel much hesitation in the matter of them being my grandparents. He probably jumped at the opportunity to see it happen. He's been punishing me this whole time―"
He frowned. "You mean more than just your grandfather's death."
"I completed my mission."
Draco's eyes bugged out of his head, widening as he watched Mia walk over to the chair and set herself down, grabbing ahold of Epps' book. They had five chapters left. She never opened it, though, only stared down at the pages as opposed to meeting his eyes. If she had, she would see the crossed expressions of astonishment and disbelief. He stood there, gaping his mouth open and shut, trying to figure out what to say. He'd been expecting something, but certainly not that.
"You...you...what?" he blurted out. Then, the feeling of elation settled in, and he let out a rippled laugh out of his chest before he came over, crouching down in front of her so that he could grab her face in his hands. "Romy, that's―"
He stopped his praise when she looked at him, and he only saw anguish. That was when he realized that whatever mission she had completed, it had not gone as she expected it to. Whatever Slughorn had told her, she did not want to hear. A flare of something dangerous lit in his chest and his smile burned away like acid. He fell from his crouch down onto his knees and brushed his thumb up against her cheekbone, searching for something in her eyes that would tell what her words were not.
"What happened?" he muttered.
"Fifty years ago, Tom Riddle went to this school and convinced every one of his professors that he was a gifted wizard. He was cunning, and he could manipulate his way to get what he wanted. I've read it, in Slughorn's diary, how highly they all saw him. So when he asked about the Horcruxes, Slughorn answered because Tom knew just what to say to make him believe that he was good," her words were quiet as she tilted her chin, pulling out of his grasp. "I did the same thing last night, Draco. That was the mission I completed. He never wanted to know if Horcruxes could be indestructible. He wanted to prove that I could be just as deceptive Tom Riddle was all those years ago, all while bearing his Mark on my arm―and I did. I was."
Draco had already begun shaking his head. "You're overthinking it―"
"How am I overthinking it, Draco? He would have to know whether or not the Horcruxes were indestructible before he first made his. Merlin knows how many he even created. Why would he put a sliver of his soul into something and rest his hope in it if were some mundane trophy that could be easily destroyed? He knew what he was doing. I was the fool not to realize it until now."
"Even if you were speaking the truth, you had no choice in the matter. What was your other option? Not complete the mission and face the repercussions of that instead? You were smart, Romy. Cunning. These are qualities that make you Slytherin, not Tom Riddle's shadow."
"Maybe."
Draco leaned away from her, frustration lining the creases of his face. "You're so quick to believe the worst possible scenario when it comes to yourself but every time I try to prove you wrong, you refuse to believe it. You are only eager to see the absolute worst in yourself. Why?"
"Am I supposed to be seeing something good?" she scoffed. "Anything good in me died the moment I became his follower―"
"So that must mean there is nothing good in me either, if that is what you are insinuating."
Mia's jaw clenched, looking at him. "You know that isn't what I meant. Don't twist my words around."
"Don't twist your words? It's the truth. You're a Death Eater. So am I. Both of us are Slytherin, you can't make that an excuse either, just like you have no reason to use our missions. Our fathers were both followers of the Dark Lord, just as other members of our families. We fall on an equal playing field here. What is the difference between you and I? What makes you see good in me and not in yourself? Because I may not be a bloody Saint like Potter, but I know I am no replica of him either."
She stood up, rounding on him angrily. "Your father wasn't murdered, Draco! Lucius may have been incarcerated but he is still breathing. He is still alive. You don't know death―you don't know how it leaves you―hollow, broken. This unholy revenge that can never be satiated, not when you have to live every single moment in the grip of the man that got him killed―not when you have to walk the same halls as the godson of the man who caused all of this!"
His eyes stayed on hers, watching as they started to well up with tears. Her bottom lip trembled, throat clenching in an effort to conceal them before they fell. Draco knew she wasn't mad at him. Whatever anger she was directing his way was misplaced, and true as it may be, he wasn't going to be one to take her fury to heart. She was in pain, and a blind man could see that. He took one step forward and she fell back one, darting her eyes to the side so he wouldn't see the first of the tears fall, holding her hand back warningly.
"I'm sorry about your Grandfather, Romy."
"My father was seventeen when his parents were murdered. No one ever discovered who was to blame. They say that his father got into a brawl over something stupid―a book, or a wand, or a magical relic―and someone came and murdered both of them in the manor while my father slept down the hall," she explained, voice blank and dull of any emotion. "Death guided him throughout his life. Death coerced him. Death was his friend, and among the many things that fell upon me after he died, that was one of them. There's no need to apologize, Draco. Death and I are friends, why should I even mourn anymore?"
Draco suddenly felt a disconnect from the girl in front of him. Like he'd just watched a sliver of her be carved away, and there was absolutely nothing in the world he could do or say to etch it back. His mouth opened and closed, trying to find something to say to her that would make sense to the both of them, but he was at a loss for words. He was fighting a losing battle anyway. Mia wasn't looking for advice or comfort. She was looking for someone to deal blows to. His hands fell helplessly to his side, realizing all he could do was watch.
"Death isn't your friend, Mia. Death doesn't give a damn about you. I do. I am the one who was there when you were thrown into what your father left behind. I was the one suffering with you when Aunt Bella used those curses on us for hours. You were the one who stuck by my side when I failed those missions, and you can try to push me away as much as you want, but I won't leave your side. You want someone to be there? You have me. So yell at me all you want, I'm plenty used to it, but that doesn't mean I'm going anywhere."
"And what happens when you get hurt because of me?"
"I won't."
She turned her eyes to him finally, dangerously hot with tears. "You don't know that. He's targeted me, Draco. He wants me to feel this way, to lose everything. My grandfather is dead. My grandmother is in critical condition, and there's only so many people left on the small list I have of people I care about. I told you this would happen. I told you he would―"
"Romy," he took another few steps forward, and that time, she stayed where she was. He continued until he was directly in front of her and grabbed the back of her neck so she wouldn't look away. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise you that. I will be by your side until the very end, do you hear me? We've come this far. Whatever happens...you are my partner, and we'll face it together."
Mia could feel the resistance growing in the back of her throat as she tried her hardest not to cry, but in the face of Draco staring at her that way, saying so much with a single look, she had no choice but to believe in him―to believe in them.
―――――――――――――
May 6, 1997
"Today we will having our final evaluations before your application for next year's NEWT exam in this class on non-verbal skills. You will each partner with my selected choice in front of the class, and I will ask that at the end of the demonstration, you provide the list of defensive spells used. Once completed, you and your partner will switch and the other will then demonstrate their usage of defensive spells, as well. Would anyone care to assist me in showing the class?"
Andromeda watched with tired eyes as everyone in the class shrunk further in their seats, not a single person daring to make direct contact with Professor Snape's beady stare as he looked around for his sacrificial lamb. The Gryffindors knew that he'd roast them alive and send them through a wall, especially Ron Weasley who seemed plenty entertained by his textbook at the moment. Mia saw Blaise slouch down in his seat, trying to make himself as small as possible in the dark alcove he and Draco sat in off to the side. Theo even found interest in his quill, leaning back to make himself smaller as well.
Mia saw Snape's glare land on her in the back of the room. She stopped tapping her fingers against the table, already recognizing what he was about to do. Safe to say he was not very pleased she and Draco were still avoiding him at all cost, and he was not a confidant of theirs.
"Miss Erebus, please join me up front."
Relieved exhales escaped people's chests. Theo hesitated, tensing up to her left, and she could already feel Draco's warning stare on the side of her face. Mia only stared at the front of the room, raising her eyebrows at Snape. "Are you sure you'd like me to assist, sir? Perhaps a less qualified student would favor leading from your example."
"For the love of..." she heard Theo mutter under his breath, leaning forward in his seat and rubbing his eyes in exasperation.
"Now, Miss Erebus."
Mia glowered and pushed her seat back, letting it scrape against the concrete floor as she did so. Everyone kept their head down as she walked up the front, clearing their throats and shifting around uncomfortably as they watched the unfavorable tension grow between the professor and his protege. Most of the students and faculty in the castle had been avoiding her and Theo given the recent news, aside from the Slytherins of course, who were there to steer away the nosey ones with a staring problem. Mia raised her wand to Professor Snape and moved to the other side of the room, letting him know that she was ready.
"You will be using defensive magic. I will be the offensive."
Before Mia could even register what he'd announced, a blast of white light was aiming directly overhead and her mind had a split second to process what he'd just cast. Her wand thrust out quickly, the general counter-spell Finite coursing through her mind and halting the full-body bind spell Snape had cast her way. Snape scowled when he realized she'd properly deflected it, unaware of the eyes that were now warily on the two of them up front. He was raising his wand once again, no light emitting from his wand this time but Mia already prepared herself for what was to come next, and in one impressive flick of red, Snape's wand was flying halfway across the room.
There was a moment of silence before she stepped back, lowering her wand. Snape paused, glancing over in the direction where his wand disappeared, only to have it reappear in his grip a moment later. And then in an orange flash, with her wand still at her side, another curse was being sent her way.
"Protego!"
The spell cast off by Snape clashed into the shield-charm, and Mia stumbled back a few steps. Her wand was still at her side, and Snape blinked, his eyes narrowing on her across the room when he realized that she had cast a spell out-loud instead of non-verbally. But she had done it without her wand. He glanced down by her side when he noticed the fact, but there was no acknowledgement about the accomplishment.
"This was meant to be an evaluation on non-verbal defensive spells, Miss Erebus," Snape said bluntly, lowering his wand, but Mia wasn't stupid enough to let go of the tight grip on hers. "You unsuccessfully did so because you lowered your wand after you believed yourself to have won. Had you not let your guard down, perhaps you would have been able to administer the defensive charm non-verbally. You were lucky to have been quick enough to see the curse and preform a wandless shield charm. Not many would be so lucky. Quick thinking, but next time, complete the evaluation on the given assignment. Take a seat. Next, Chang and MacMillan―"
Mia wanted to strangle someone, blistering at the heel because she knew he had set her up for the failure. He had to have known she would eventually use the disarming spell and think the duel was finished. That was on her. With eyes fiery with frustration and a jaw set tight enough to scare the Devil himself, she returned back to her seat. She didn't notice the winces from her Housemates, Blaise muttering about how he didn't want to be on the awaiting end of Mia's anger. Draco was more enraged at Snape, who he knew caught Romy off guard on purpose.
The rest of the defense class consisted of everyone else's evaluations, many of them subpar and leaving the rest of the class bored. There was mild excitement when Finnigan nearly blew off Bulstrode's head after a blasting curse went awry. Mia was the first one out of the classroom when class ended, still bristling as she threw open the door. Her Housemates were smart enough to let her be for the time being, deciding that it was best to let her cool off at the dining table. Theo and Draco met eyes on their way into the Great Hall as she strode ahead of them, wondering who would be the one take on her mood.
By the time the rest of the Slytherins filed into the Hall and sat down to eat their lunch, Andromeda was dripping her fork tightly in one hand and glaring at the back of Dean Thomas' head since he was the unfortunate soul in her line of sight. Andrew noticed her mood the moment he sat down, his brows furrowing in confusion at Theo who only shook his head once, warning him that bringing it up would only increase the likelihood of Mia taking his head off with the fork in her hand. Then, the evening mail came for the day. Mia and Theo held their breaths now.
However, it was neither Radnor cousin who received any news. Draco did. His brows furrowed down at the letter dropped in front of him, obviously his mother from the clear script of his name on the front of it, and his pale fingers were moving quicker than he anticipated to rip open the envelope. Mia's frustration was muted, her grip on the fork loosening in concern as she watched Draco closely across from her. Her attention caught every feature of his face, the slightest twitch an indication of what was in the letter―and then she saw it. Her back straightened when she noticed something dull in Draco's grey eyes, light lost and replaced with emptiness as he dropped the letter back down on the plate.
And then he was pushing himself up, his fork and knife clattering behind him on the ground as he raced to get away. Theo turned to look over at Andromeda. "Mia―"
But she was already gone, pushing herself up hastily to the confusion of everyone else at their table. Up ahead at the front of the Great Hall, she watched Draco nearly topple right over Katie Bell entering the room with her friend, that freezing him for a moment before he was darting out of sight. Mia picked up her pace then, her heart pounding in her chest as she rounded around the corner, noticing him disappear up the steps. She followed, pushing her way through the students all rushing to lunch, glaring at a Ravenclaw who momentarily had her lose sight of Draco on the sixth floor.
Then she noticed a flash of white hair disappear into the men's bathroom. She didn't think twice to shove her way in through the door, hearing the sound of water running, then she caught sight of Draco in the center of the row of sinks with his head ducked low. His breaths were ragged, and he only just started trying to tug at the vest on his body when she rushed over to him, her hands falling on his arms to try and get his attention.
"Draco. Draco, what's wrong? Draco," she rushed out, her fingers tugging on his arms as he pulled aggressively at the fabric, not stopping until it was on the ground. She managed to grab a hold of him and slide in between his body and the sink, forcing his eyes on her instead of himself. Tears streamed down his face as he hyperventilated. "Draco, I need you to talk to me―"
He shook his head, tugging at his tie. "I can't breathe. I can't breathe. Romy, I can't―"
"Draco, look at me," she pleaded, her eyes burning. "Draco. I think you're having a panic attack, all right? I've had them before. You need to breathe―"
"I can't. I can't."
His sentences were choppy and strangled. He looked at her helplessly, his eyes wide as he continued to tug at his tie until it was loose around his neck, failing to provide any relief. Mia reached for his face, his cool tears stinging against her hot flesh as he sobbed in her hands. Sweat was beading around his forehead, cheeks reddening already, but it was the utter panic in his eyes that made her nauseous. She had been there. She knew what he was feeling, and there was nothing she could do to help.
"I can't―" he shook his head. "He said he...he said..."
She leaned forward, shaking her head in confusion at him. "Who said, Draco? What happened? What was in the letter?"
"I can't breathe, Romy―"
"Draco, please, you need to listen to me. Just close your eyes. You're all right. You're going to be okay. I'm right here. You're safe," she continued to say those words in a mantra, and Draco's head fell against hers as he gripped on tightly to her robes with trembling hands, his chest still falling up and down in a rapid pace as she muttered to him. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. You're okay. Just breathe for me."
Minutes later, constantly repeating the same words, Draco's body was not shaking as much as it once was, and his tears were falling down slower. "I can't. Romy. Mother...I can't do it...it won't...he says he'll kill her―he'll kill you, and then..."
"Draco, what are you talking about?" she whispered, tilting her head and nudging his chin up so that he would look her in the eyes.
But instead of looking at her, Draco noticed something over her shoulder in the mirror. He whirled around before Mia could realize what was happening, drawing his wand. A flash of light and the hex coming from Draco had her instantly reeling, staggering to the side and wrenching her own wand out instinctively. A lamp exploded on the other side of the room, and Mia barely had the chance to realize who it was meant for before a jinx was sent their way, separating her and Draco on either sides of the bathroom as Draco deflected the spell.
Harry Potter was on the other end of the room, and all judgment disappeared in that moment. Mia only saw fire in her path, an absence of awareness in where she was as she aimed her wand at Potter the same moment Draco did. He only just managed to duck out of the way, the portrait and bin behind him shattering into oblivion by the force of their shared jinxes. Potter was outnumbered and he knew it, his wand forced to make its decision on who he wanted to target next.
Mia noticed his eyes lock on hers, and a moment later, a flash of light was sent in her direction. She was faster though, already deflecting his curse to the side. To the left of her, she heard the cistern shatter, water spilling out of it immediately and flooding the floor within moments. She didn't even glance over at Draco. She had already sent Potter fumbled around the stalls, attempting to hide from the next attack. Evertestatum burst through her mind as she aimed her wand, watching as Potter fell back into the water and slipped trying to get up again.
But that wasn't the curse on her mind. One more foul and grotesque surfaced in the crevices of her heart, screaming and begging to be used. Draco and her had gotten away from one another at some point, both of them too distracted to pay attention to anything but Potter. Mia had an opportunity, though, and when Potter showed back up in her line of sight, she found herself blinded―all thought disappeared, all reason, all control. Her wand stuck out in an anger unlike anything she had ever felt before, and the beginning of a word rippled out of her tongue.
"Cruci―"
"SECTUMSEMPRA!"
Mia only realized a moment too late that the curse Potter bellowed out so loudly it echoed off the walls hadn't been for her. She whirled her head around when he heard the guttural sounds of someone choking, and then a loud splash against the floor―and then everything stopped for a second. Draco laid in a pool of his own blood, gashes cutting into his skin and blood appearing in haphazard trauma across the entirety of his white polo. What she remembered next was a blur, falling to her knees ungracefully next to him, gut-wrenching and painful sobs wracking out of her mouth as she quickly drew her wand.
"Vulnera Sanentur," echoed in broken sentences underneath her breath, her hands shaking as she traced every inch of Draco's body, trying her hardest not to look in his eyes because all she could see was the agony flashing through them with every added slash from an invisible sword.
Behind her shoulder, she heard the horrified sounds of someone speak. "No..."
Mia's red-rimmed eyes stilled, the tears spilling down her cheeks as she whirled her head over her shoulder, her body shaking uncontrollably when she caught sight of Potter standing over her with his wand limp at his side. Suddenly there was nothing in between her and him, not an ounce of care for what may happen to her, not an inch of rationale left to deter her from what she had been desperate to do for so long. Andromeda, with her hands coated in the blood of Draco Malfoy, seethed with an anger unrivaled to any enemy Potter had ever stared in the face before.
It was just when she held her wand to him, and the letters "Ava―" escaped her stuttering lips that the door was burst open. Mia's head whipped to the side, and before she knew it, her wand was being sent across the room. She only stared at Potter for a moment after that, both knowing what she had been prepared to do, before she turned back to Draco. Snape rushed further into the room, dropping down onto his knees into the bloody water opposite her, his wand already out to continue the Incantation that Mia began. What she hadn't completely stitched together was knitted tightly, and she leaned forward over Draco's body, grabbing the sides of his face so that she could wipe away the blood.
"It's okay. You're okay, you're going to be okay," she murmured over and over again, nodding her head to Draco as she looked down at him, noticing the fear struck in his blue eyes. "It's okay. I'm here. You're okay...you're okay..."
"Andromeda, help me get him up...Andromeda," Snape's words were barely registering in her mind but she acted quickly, rubbing her nose on her robe before the two worked to lift him to his feet. Instantly, a harrowing sound rippled out of Draco's body, and Mia squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the weight of him holding onto her. "You need the hospital wing, Draco. There may be a certain amount of scarring, but if you take dittany immediately we might avoid even that...hurry, Andromeda..."
Mia was already moving toward the door, whimpering the same words of "you're okay," in an effort to remind herself of the fact just as much to comfort Draco. When Snape stopped abruptly at the door, she'd shot her head up to shout at him, only to be interrupted by him sneering over his shoulder. "And you, Potter...you wait here for me."
They were out the door in seconds. Mia's thoughts were chaotic and messy, her only focus on getting him to Madam Pomfrey as soon as possible before he bled out in her arms. Nothing in the world would ever take away the image tangled in her thoughts, repeating every two seconds of her turning around to see him on the ground in a pool of his own blood.
"Andromeda," Snape hissed under his breath. "Andromeda, you must remain levelheaded―"
Mia turned to him over Draco's bent head, her eyes wickedly strung out. "Remain levelheaded―he just tried to murder him! I ought to go back there and do the same!" but in between her seething threats, she paused when she noticed something dark shadowing underneath the damp white clothing on the arm she held. Her eyes widened at Snape. "Snape. Snape, we can't take him. They'll see―"
"I will ask to―"
"No," she protested, shaking her head in a fit of panic. "No. We can't―"
Then her face fell when an idea sparked in her mind, realizing it was the only option they had. She grabbed a quick hold of Draco's arm, trying her hardest to ignore when he flinched, and she darted around quickly to find Snape's wand in his robes. When she'd recovered it in the lining of his pocket, she wasted no time stealing it, muttering something quickly under her breath as she pointed the end of the wand to Draco's arm.
"Andromeda, what are you d―"
"What I have to."
Snape did not ask any more questions after that. Draco was barely lucid, his head lolling to the side every so often, and shutters of agony rolling off his tongue to remind them he needed attention. When they arrived at the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey took one look at the state Draco was in before she was gasping and darting forward, ushering them to lay Draco on the first available bed quickly.
"He needs dittany immediately," Snape ordered, and there was not a moment between the statement and Pomfrey moving to find some. The moment that she was away, he turned to look at Mia, his brow tight before he moved to Draco's left arm, rolling it up quickly. Then he paused. "Andromeda. What did you do?"
"What I had to."
Mia sat down next to Draco as Madam Pomfrey came back, refusing to let go of the grip she had on his hand, just like his iron-clad fingers only shackled tighter the moment Pomfrey started to take off his shirt to discover the scars. Snape disappeared behind her shoulder at some point, but she did not pay attention. Not even to Pomfrey's request to let go of him, not even to the thoughts in her own brain, nothing else mattered. All she could think about was the boy laid on the hospital bed, and how close she had just been to losing him. His blood on her hands, and the image of that scorched in her mind for eternity.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, her tears running cold down her cheek, and glanced over at his left arm as Pomfrey worked on it. Draco's Dark Mark was no longer there, only dark spots that could be misplaced for bruising in the rough shape of where the Mark used to be. On the opposite side of the castle, within the dungeons, Theodore Nott had just received a gut-wrenching surprise on his.
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Author's Note:
TADA! We finally got the chapter! What did you think? I have been waiting so long to do the cliffhanger at the end. All will be explained in the next chapter on how it was even possible, but for now, comment and let me know what you thought about this chapter!
I appreciate all of the love I've gotten recently on this story. While I may not reply to every comment, I read EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. and I appreciate them all. The kind words you give inspire me to continue writing this story. Just like Epps' book, there is only five more chapters left of the Furies.
As always, give me some inspiration and love! I hope I did this chapter justice. I have been eager to write it for so long and wanted to make sure it was done correctly.
MENOETIUS: GOD OF VIOLENT ANGER AND RASH ACT
(And just to give you a sneak peek into the last few chapters to let you comment some of your theories on how things will end, here are the chapter titles for the remaining chapters: Chapter Thirty-Six: DEIMOS; Chapter Thirty-Seven: CLOTHO; Chapter Thirty-Eight: LACHESIS; Chapter Thirty-Nine: ATROPOS; Chapter FORTY: CRONUS)