Vacivitas

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

She can't stand the silence.

In her room, in the halls, in the library. It's oppressive, weighing upon her shoulders as heavy as the guilt she knows she'll carry for the rest of her life. Harry, gone when their hopes were at their lowest. Ron, nowhere to be found, lost like everyone else that she'll never see again.

The last piece of the golden puzzle.

What Malfoy didn't understand was that by telling her that, he'd told her the one question she'd wanted an answer to most.

Ron was dead.

She's got plenty of tears. Years of them, born the second she and the group escaped from Hogwarts to her first night in the pit. And this morning was no different. She woke with the realization of Malfoy's words in the forefront of her mind, and she'd been unable to keep her grief at bay. She'd wept, gut-wrenching and bone-deep, tears soaking her pillow as she screamed her sorrow into it. The pain has always been there for her, but this was the pinnacle. There's nothing more from her past to hope for. No way for her to get any of it back.

She finds herself in the library again, curled up in the same chair with a book in her lap. She can't seem to see the words but for the way her vision blurs with tears. Her fingertips swipe at them as they fall, somehow too slow to catch the next trails as they weave their way down to drip off of her jaw. Emptiness is all she feels. Despair.

There's nothing. There's just...Nothing.

The sobbing starts again, her tears soaking the pages of the book. She buries her face in her hands to try to gather herself, but it only gives her the urge to cry harder.

It's been hours of this, and it'll be hours more.

When the sun starts to get low, she still hasn't made it to the next page. She feels overwhelmed, like the only choice she has is to give in. Malfoy hasn't given her a real choice–he's going to take her blood anyway. At this point, it's just a battle of wills. A challenge between the two of them to decide who's the one in charge. Because even if he paid for her, it's clear that he's made space for her to retain agency. He lets her roam the manor and the library. He's given her fancy clothing and gourmet food to eat. All she has to do is stay inside, follow the rules, and make her choice.

She hates the way it feels to be beholden to him. That she lives in a way that he allows, likely fulfilling some sick fantasy he had when they were in school to have her at his feet. What she doesn't understand is why he would want to award her as many liberties as he has. Why is he giving her so much freedom within the confines of his home?

What kind of choice is it that he's given her if none of it benefits her? Feed him, or he feeds from her. She chooses between death and death, by her hand or his, and there's nothing standing in the way of it. Harry's gone. Ron's gone. Most classmates from her year are gone.

What's the point in living when everything you love is gone?

Tillian and Faye.

They're her friends, too. They're all she's got.

She wonders if she's got room in her heart for them. What if she's only holding onto them because Harry and Ron are gone? Are they filling a void for her?

Guilt once again eclipses her, and she tries to quell the bad thoughts with good. She does love them, in spite of the fact that she was only near them for sixty-one days. Even if she didn't know Tillian's name until right before she left, or that the only physical contact she had with Faye was through holding her hand. She remembers their conversations, reminiscing about their pasts, talking about their families and the things they used to enjoy. All that time, and she'd felt like she didn't really know them. But now that she's been pulled away, she realizes she does love them. Harry and Ron were her friends. Tillian and Faye are her friends.