𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐒𝐄𝐒.
Eris Achlys believed nothing could save her. She was another puppet waiting to be mastered. A witch crafted from Hades' hands and cast to Tartarus, doomed for all eternity to fail. A talented girl born purely to be used...
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October of 1976
Hogwarts, Scotland
⋆ 。° ⋆ ━━━━━━━ ⋆ 。° ⋆
Sirius Black had never known the pressure of having the world rely on him. But looking at the faint Eris Achlys in his arms, he saw she had. She had lived it, and she continued to live it. Her stiffness and the way her shoulders seemed to hunch more each day, holding the weight of the world upon herself. Eris had been punished by many and this was her fate. To hold the sky above, acting as a pillar between life and death - a modern-day retelling of the Greek titan Atlas.
Sirius had known this girl for well over a decade now, she practically had lived with him at times. And in all this time, never once had he seen the utter destruction etched onto her beautiful face. She had never been a big smiler (other than when she was with his brother, but even then, sometimes it seemed . . . strained). But Merlin, Eris Achlys looked heartbroken. He watched how her lips curled downwards, creating a crease on her forehead, how her eyes squinted, trying to keep him in focus.
She was hanging on by a thread. A thread that was held together by glares, hidden tears, and the hope that one day, she might be free. And for a second, he wondered if Eris Achlys was truly in danger.
He couldn't explain what was going through her head but he wondered if she was delving into treacherous waters. He wondered if there was a reason for this misery. As he continuously stared into her eyes that strained to cling to his blurred face, he couldn't shake the feeling of the dimming hope they portrayed. The way they glowed with a watery lens incasing them, letting her see through her lake of disdain.
"Where the hell do we take her?" James Potter had sprinted after the trio once he had finished his performance in the Great Hall at wowing his 'Lily Flower'. Not that he had needed to run; the trio had made little progress as Sirius Black and Remus Lupin attempted to drag her body along - which was a feat in itself (Eris understood this struggle all too well with her victims).
"At the rate we're going, a grave." Eris hissed as she felt her lungs constrict around the effort of vocalizing her remarks. The blood from her arm continued to seep out whilst her headache worsened.
James Potter harked a laugh that sounded too strained to be real, as he swiped at his messy hair, stress eating him alive.
Remus Lupin, the only sensible one in the group, cried, "How about the bloody hospital wing?!" His stress-induced tone fell over the four in a blanketing silence.
Eris violently shook her head in Sirius' arms. And even though they only held each other's gaze for a fleeting moment, it spoke enough to him.
