Venom & Virtue

chapter 57

I just stared at the tube, simultaneously trying to process what I was seeing, how I felt, and what the consequences would now be because of it.

Despite the circumstance, the test had afforded me one thing: an understanding of where I had come from.

I was a muggle-born witch.

The status of my blood purity had gone from a complete mystery, to a concrete fact, in one swirl of liquid.

It felt like precious information to know, a hint at the type of people my parents might have been, and certainly not a realisation I'd expected to have in front of a crowd of people.

I desperately wanted to linger upon it, to enjoy the scrap of identity that I'd gained and mull over what type of muggles I'd been born to.

But, with the threat of Bellatrix's wicked smirk just before me, I couldn't afford the luxury to wonder about such things, my entire existence now at risk.

And that brought back the most important question: what would the consequences now be?

I tore my gaze from the muddy mixture, looking directly at the deranged witch before me, a strand of black curly hair falling across her face.

Time seemed to slow down as we stared at one another, all understanding passing between us.

From her, malice and hatred and bloodthirsty desire. From me, acceptance and expectation and eerie tranquillity.

I knew it instantaneously, the very moment the liquid had shifted to reveal the result, I knew I was going to die because of it.

That was to be my fate, there was nothing else to hope for, dying now seemed as tangible as the very ground below us.

And that was the only reason a peaceful acceptance overtook my body, the thoughts of my mind entirely at ease with the knowledge of what the witch planned to do next.

Because there was no point fighting the inevitable.

It suddenly seemed as if every decision I'd ever made had led me to this exact end, even in the past week; sitting with Violetta to study, refusing to stay behind despite Draco's warning, attempting to send the SOS, placing myself so close to Narcissa in the row.

The only possibility to truly change the outcome had been in the Minister's office, every other option would have only delayed the unavoidable.

I'd sacrificed myself the moment I'd hesitated in opening the alarm vial, my safety slipping away as I debated who I wanted to save more; myself or Draco.

And that was the real reason I embraced Bellatrix's steely gaze, because my death meant his salvation.

I smiled slightly at the realisation, a fact which seemed to enrage the witch greatly as she gripped my hair, slamming me down into the ground with such force, a sickening crack resounded through my skull.

I groaned from the impact, screwing my eyes shut and opening them in an attempt to clear the black spots from my vision, dizzy and nauseated.

As I rolled on the ground, my eyes found Draco, his form lopsided because of the strange angle, but unmistakable and heart-breaking pain etched into his face.

I desperately wanted to reach out to him, to say that it was okay, that death would be a welcome relief if it meant his safety, that I loved him terribly and I didn't regret a second of it.

But it was all too dangerous, an action which would cause him to be exposed, our affection for one another vulnerable to the cruelty of his aunt.

So once the ringing in my ears calmed, I decided that if I was to die, I would protect what we'd shared at the very least, our attachment being the final secret I would take to the grave.