THE FURIES ▸ Draco Malfoy

Chapter Twelve: PHTHONUS

◤ ❝You could never understand the sacrifices I would make for her. You can run yourself dry talking about all that you would do, but at the end of the day, I am the only one in this world who would gladly give my life if it meant she had five more minutes of hers. I suggest stepping back and reevaluating your place next to mine.❞ ―Theodore Nott ◢

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CHAPTER TWELVE: PHTHONUS

November 8, 1996

                        Andromeda was keeping a watchful gaze on her left hand as she walked through the hallway of the dungeons, barely able to see anything but their shadow as she focused on the way they trembled. It was slight, but her fingertips shook with a tenderness that she had never felt before. Ever since she used her Legilimency on Draco, the unfamiliar sensation had been there. Because of the ill reaction she had to his Occlumency, she was focusing her readings on the defensive magic rather than reparation magic for the Cabinet. It was odd, the way that her mind recoiled away from Draco's. Legilimens in the past never had such a hostile reaction, and she wanted to know why she was still feeling the effects of it two days later when it hadn't happened once that previous summer.

Theodore was beside her, quiet as they walked together from their Charms class. Draco hadn't shown up today, and she didn't miss the looks that her housemates had given her as a result of it. Everyone was on edge because of the Slytherin and Gryffindor match tomorrow, so to find out that their best Seeker wasn't showing up to his classes or breakfast the day before the game was not comforting. Mia was quiet, and she only shrugged her shoulders when Daphne asked if she knew anything. Truthfully, she didn't know much. Draco had been acting colder, uninviting since that night. A different kind of cold―a kind of cold that was defeated, not angry. The dark circles under his eyes had grown darker, and she was beginning to see that there were weights on his shoulders even more severe than killing Albus Dumbledore. He just wouldn't reveal what.

"Are you coming home for Christmas?" Theodore said softly to her left. She glanced up from her hands to look at him, his silhouette reflecting off the stone walls. "I thought your mother may want to see us. She hasn't been writing recently."

Mia's mouth dried. Truthfully, the last thing she wanted to do was go home to the manor that only carried bitter memories for her, nor did she want to see her mother as much as she loved her. Their relationship had been twisted since her father's dead; Celicia clung to her daughter with an iron grip those weeks she had stayed at the Malfoy manor, and it prevented Andromeda the means to breathe through her own pain. Only after she left did Mia feel true peace of mind, even if it was only just long enough to morph into fear. Going home, with everything that she had been through, was a horrid thought. The last time she was in that place was the day of her father's funeral.

However, one look at the hope in Theo's eyes, and her heart deflated with acceptance. She would do anything for her cousin, after all. "Of course. I was hoping to bring Atlas back with me if mother no longer needs him."

"Do you think Grandmother Eleanor will be there?"

"Oh, Merlin's beard, I bloody hope not," she cursed, scoffing as they rounded to the wall of paintings near the entrance of the Slytherin house. "If she comes, that only means we'll be hearing about the disgraces our fathers were to her daughters. Not that it matters much now, does it?"

Theo snorted, rolling his eyes. "Well, she always liked Uncle Alastiare better than my father. Not like she can speak much about either of them without Grandfather Kal silencing her for the rest of dinner."