THE FURIES ▸ Draco Malfoy

Chapter Eight: ERIS

◤ ❝You love her. So much so that you would allow yourself to be destroyed just to give her a life unriddled by the effects of this darkness you have weighing on your shoulders. It is a love that will get you killed. She will be your downfall; no constellation seen in her eyes can carry you away from that truth.❞ ―Narcissa Malfoy ◢

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CHAPTER EIGHT:     ERIS

January 28th, 1980

           Alastiare Erebus was nothing short of trouble, but his mischief was hidden behind his dark eyes and brightly lit smile. Celicia Radnor had been compelled by those very features since they were in their first-year. Now, look at them. Sitting in a dark room with Alastiare's eyes but a shadow underneath the red rims of exhaustion. Celicia couldn't remember the last time she had seen a smile on her fiancèe's face. He had turned weary, cold to the touch. That was when she first realized that the dark times were truly upon them. The love of her life chose to rest his loyalties elsewhere, and she had no way out. Celicia had long-since found comfort in something else. As Alastiare prepared for the Wizarding War, she prepared for a war of her own. Her swollen fingers rested gently on her growing stomach. Her only joy in the darkest of times was the small movement of the little baby rolling about in her stomach—Andromeda, if it was a girl, and Theseus, if it was a boy.

However, not even the small kicks of baby Mia (she was certain it was a girl) could distract her from what was happening in the house of recently-wedded Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. They, too, had a child on the way. The gathering was meant to be in celebration of their recent marriage, but everyone there knew that was just a facade. It was a meeting for the Dark Lord, and the hanging left arms of men and women alike showed that. He had stained them. Marked them forever. The unsettling feeling returned in her heart when she watched Alastiare snap at Rookwood, wondering what will become of the man that once a heart fit for a saint. What kind of father would he be to his little girl?

Celicia could not watch any longer, and instead went looking in the crowd of former classmates and sullen wives for one woman in particular. If only her sister had come, she would have latched onto Athella and held onto her sister for dear life. Instead, she looked to find Narcissa in the manor while her husband moved along to converse with the Lestrange's, not wanting her unborn child anywhere near the insanity of Bellatrix. It was only when she saw a blonde in the corner of the room, staring out the window a distance away from her husband and holding her stomach gently, that Celicia breathed out a sigh of relief. 

Her swollen feet carried her to the window where Narcissa stood, and even in the midst of all the chaos, Celicia smiled gently when she saw the bump that was also forming on her friend. Her child was not due until June, but Celicia did not have much longer. Sometime in late February, but she wished she could just keep her little girl in the protection of her womb until the danger was over. It seemed much easier that way. 

"Cece," Narcissa muttered, barely a whisper as she kept the attention off them. 

She didn't need to say anything more, though. Celicia had already outstretched one of her hands, gripping tightly onto the woman like they would die without one another. She knew everything that Narcissa wanted to speak about—it was everything that terrified her, as well. The worries over their lives, their husbands, but most importantly, their children. It was becoming dangerous to even step outside with the acceleration of the Dark Lord's plans, and should anyone discover their husbands' involvements, both families would feel the weight of the target on their backs.