The Stars Aligned

Chapter 46

I sank to my knees, wheezing. I can't breathe, I can't think, I can't feel.

I'm not okay. I'll never be okay. Not after falling in love with him. Not after watching his face as he revealed his evil plot. Not after he made it crystal clear that everything was a ruse.

His affection was fake. His stories were fake. His love was fake. Everything. Fake.

He stabbed me through my goddamn heart, and walked away as I bled out on the floor.

Strong hands on my shoulder, someone kneeling beside me. Theo. "What the actual hell," he growled, rubbing his thumb between my shoulder blades.

Luna's hands are clamped over her mouth. Blaise has such an utter expression of betrayal on his face that I have to look away. Pansy is seething, sending a menacing death glare Draco's way.

Or Malfoy, I should say. I guess I shouldn't call him that anymore.

A short yet substantial wave of relief rolled through me. From their reactions, I could tell at least my friendships with them are real. At least I have that, I tell myself. At least I have that.

"Well done, Draco," Voldemort crooned, embracing Malfoy, who returned the gesture eagerly. "And to break a Mudblood's heart, on your own merit? I've taught you well."

A tear escaped, and I wiped it away quickly. Malfoy would not see me cry. He would not see what he was doing to me.

Malfoy pulled back, smirking. "It was quite fun to screw over a piece of filth."

I had no choice but to watch the events unfold in horror. With every word said, I felt myself breaking further, even though I was already shattered into a fine dust. Theo slid his hand through mine, gripping it almost painfully tight. "Holy shit," Theo muttered.

Voldemort chuckled, patting Malfoy on the back. "Go join your parents, Draco. You deserve it."

Malfoy glowed with satisfaction, striding over to stand with Narcissa and Lucius. His father stood a little taller, glancing approvingly at his son. Narcissa smiled grimly, handing Draco his wand back. She must have taken it off of Harry's body. Nagini was curled in front of the Malfoys, ready to pounce.

I felt them first. His quicksilver eyes, glued on me. When I finally dragged my eyes to meet his, I felt taken aback. I had been expecting a hard scowl, a loathing expression. But his eyes were warm, the soft grey of the clouds. I have never been more confused than at that moment.

His lips moved, mouthing something.

The moon is beautiful.

Even from afar I could make out the words. I used to watch him say it in complete adoration; I had memorized the movement of his tongue, the rhythm of his lips, the flash of white teeth.

He tilted his head almost imperceptibly, stray curls falling over his brow.

I inhaled sharply, pursing my lips together. What the hell is he doing? Is he trying to screw with me, mess with a Mudblood, even still?

Voldemort was still talking, but I wasn't listening. I was just looking at him. God, how pathetic. He betrayed me, broke my heart, and I still could look only at him. It was always him.

That's when I noticed something peculiar: his hands were stuck in his jacket pockets. The black fabric was moving, rustling ever so slightly, like he was grabbing something.

He was still looking at me, and he shook his head once.

That's when my eyes flickered down to his hand, at the curved object peeking out of his pocket, at the unmistakable ivory gleam of a Basilisk fang.