𝐎𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 | | 𝕝𝕦𝕔𝕚𝕦𝕤 𝕞𝕒𝕝𝕗𝕠𝕪

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐫

A warning to the people
The good and the evil
This is war

That night Katherine laid alone atop her bed, the layers of satin covers pulled over her creating a warm pocket of familiar comfort. She didn't know if what she felt was anger or defeat or both simultaneously. She wasn't upset with Lucius, the distraught man had wailed over her trembling body for what seemed like hours after Voldemort had left the manor. Deep down she knew he blamed himself, dare she say hated himself, for unintentionally hurting her. What her anger was directed at was the evil in charge, Voldemort, who had created the suffocating darkness she was involved in. Her one hope was that the other side would win and the Dark Lord would perish.

Before she could close her eyes to try to get at least a few moments of sleep, she heard her bedroom door creak open followed by the tapping of heavy footsteps against the wooden floor. Lucius, of course. She had memorized the sound of his steps so she could immediately know when he entered her space. It was a familiar sound, one she had heard many times over the many years, but that night it sent a wave of dread through her body.

"Katherine? Are you still awake?"

Her palms rubbed against her eyes before she sat up against the pillows, giving the man in front of her a meek smile. He was dressed for bed in his satin pajamas with his flowing blond locks messily thrown back in a bow, but his deadened eyes were red and sorrowful. He must have been crying again. Always one to prefer putting on a strong face, the sight of him in a mournful and guilty state broke her heart.

"I was just about to go to sleep. Is there something you need?" she responded coldly. Her words didn't mean to come out as icy as they did. But she couldn't help it. His fingers ran through his hair before his arms crossed against his chest, sighing before he moved to sit on the edge of her plush bed. He reached into his pajama shirt pocket to pull out a brown envelope with a Hogwarts seal. Waving emerald calligraphy blazoned on the front read Severus Snape. Lucius's facial expression turned from sorrowful to envious as he held the letter in front of her face.

"Actually, my dear, I would love to know why you have a letter from my dear friend Severus Snape. An owl delivered it this evening, of course, it was not one of my owls nor was it Severus's owl. If you are trying to be sneaky you are very poor at it," he scoffed. Katherine snatched the letter from his hand immediately, her stomach knotting. Did he read it? What had Snape written to her this time? She also found it particularly funny that of all the things that had happened he was distracted by a simple letter. Not that he was the type to dwell on his emotions, but she thought that even a simple 'How are you after I was just forced to torture you' would be sufficient.

"He writes to me about Elowen and how she's doing, Lucius. Nothing to worry about," she reassured, tucking the letter underneath her pillow. He was jealous, jealous that she was with Snape. As much as she called him a 'friend', Severus Snape was closer to a frenemy than someone she would actively sleep with. Despite Lucius's envious streak, she thought he was terribly silly for insinuating anything was going on. "And the owl, whose name is Archimedes, is a gift from Severus; he wanted me to have my own owl that's all. I can assure you, Luci, you don't have to worry about it," she added, pressing her lips on the corner of Lucius's mouth which caused a slight smirk to appear on his normally serious face.

He gave a reluctant nod before going to move off of her bed, but she reached her hand out to lightly tap against his arm.
"Stay, please. I need you here," said Katherine quietly. "Tonight is not a night I want to spend alone." It truly wasn't. Still shaken from the day's events, all she desired was the comforting touch and reassuring silence that Lucius often gave her. Although he was never one to show affection in the public eye, behind the private bedroom door he craved soft touches and gentle reassurance. He complied with her suggestion, soon finding himself laying against her seemingly endless pile of soft satin pillows.