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MALFOY Manor was colder than usual due to the weather. Athena watched the white garden from her bedroom window, covered in snow. But even the stunning white snow and the beautiful flowers that never rotted due to the magic her mother cast on them, horrors still lay inside Malfoy Manor.

Horrors that had Athena waking up at only three a.m., her body covered in sweat, and her thoughts consumed by the red light of the Cruciatus curse that appeared in her dreams whenever she was in Malfoy Manor.

The first night was spent in a nightmare, followed by a cold shower to fully awaken from it and wash away the sweat.

Athena looked at her own reflection in the window, her black hair bringing a smile to her lips.

Her mother had noticed after picking her up from the station the night before but had been too tired to point it out.

Yet, she had given Athena a glare so sharp that it had her bracing for what might come soon enough.

But Athena paid no mind to it at this moment, staring out the window again.

The morning sun cast a glow over the manor, yet Athena still felt the darkness lurking in every corner, in every corridor, and every room of Malfoy Manor.

Towering hedges, thick and impenetrable, bordered the estate, their twisted branches forming a suffocating barrier that choked off any sense of warmth or welcome. The only path, a narrow, winding driveway, felt more like a channel designed to isolate them—as if tall bushes, hedges, and a massive, ancient gate sealed the world from them. Or them from the world—Athena did not know.

Did not know and did not care.

Athena vowed to get away from the manor as soon as she was old enough, but she knew that the only way that would happen would be through marriage.

Her parents—mostly her mother—would prefer Athena close, to keep an eye on her and shape her into a respectable marriage partner, as if her only worth was the union that would further purify their blood.

But that was a long time away.

For now, Athena glanced at the clock on the wall of her dark room and sighed.

Her bed was neatly made, thanks to Izzie, who was the only one Athena was glad to see after all these months away at Hogwarts. The house elf was, in return, excited to see her.

The fireplace at the far end of the room crackled softly, casting flickering shadows that danced across the walls, its warmth the only reprieve from the chill that lingered in the air. Surrounding it were sleek black leather couches, their surfaces pristine and smooth, untouched by time or dust.

Athena stood up and wondered if going downstairs for breakfast was really a good idea—

It was not.

She knew that. But she was expected to be there, or else her mother would have another reason to complain, and Athena did not have the energy for it.

She walked to the cabinets and looked into the mirror on the outside of it, checking to see if a strand of hair was out of place or if she simply did not look neat. Her mother would certainly have a fit.

The dark red sweater she wore perfectly complemented the rich crimson lipstick that adorned her lips, creating a striking harmony. Her black jeans echoed the deep shade of her glossy hair, enhancing the overall sleekness of her appearance.

Athena glanced at the wand on her bedside table and shook her head, knowing she could not even use it if she needed to. She was under the age of seventeen, after all. She was only fifteen.

Two more years, and she could use magic outside of school. She could use magic to defend herself if she needed to.

She knew she could use her wandless magic, but that had been a part of her that she hid away.

A part of her that her parents never knew about.

Athena distinctly remembered once using it in front of her mother after coming back from Beauxbatons one summer, who had screeched in her ear for an hour about "trying to take Abraxas's shine away."

Ever since then, she had never mentioned it, nor used it in front of them.

Abraxas, in return, never mentioned it either, even after Athena had once beaten Riddle in a duel a year ago in Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

Deep down, she wondered if it was because he did not want their parents to applaud her.

She wondered if it was because he wanted all their attention for himself—Athena would let him have it.

Better to have no attention on her than her mother's.

With a sigh, Athena walked out of her bedroom and made her way downstairs.

She reluctantly stepped into the dining room two minutes later and was extremely glad to find that her parents were not there. But her satisfaction faded when she noticed her brother there, eyes on the newspaper in his hand as he ate his breakfast.

Silently, Athena sat down.

Within less than a minute, Izzie popped in with a plate of breakfast and handed it to Athena.

"Thanks, Izzie," said Athena genuinely, pursing her lips when Izzie merely bowed and glanced at her brother before leaving with another pop.

Abraxas looked up at her, curiosity evident in his eyes about why she thanked a house elf.

"You should not thank them. It is their job to serve us," he pointed out before placing the fork containing a piece of pancake in his mouth.

Athena poured herself a cup of black coffee and merely replied, "I will do whatever I want, Abraxas."

"Athena," he sighed, his voice dripping with disdain. "You really are impossible."

"Am I?" She raised the cup to her lips, taking a slow, deliberate sip, her eyes never leaving his. "Or is it simply your stubbornness that blinds you, since you've never bothered to see me as anything but a failure?"

"Are you not a failure?" Abraxas shot back, matching her cold gaze, his own as icy as hers.

She tilted her head, not showing the pang she felt in her chest. "I don't know, Abraxas. Do our parents think I am? You do take after them in every way and cannot become your own person, after all."

His gaze narrowed. Even though he looked bored, she noticed the clench of his jaw at her words. "I have my own opinions, Athena, no matter what you may assume."

"Well," she replied smoothly, "I would know nothing of that, since you're always too busy with yourself to even try to talk to me."

"That's not true—"

"Is it not?" Her eyebrows raised, as if she were surprised by his denial. "I do hope you continue to be busy with yourself, though. As the Malfoy Heir, you have no time for your own sister, I assume."

The words were a low blow.

Enough of a blow that Abraxas's bored exterior faded for a moment, revealing hurt that was quickly covered up.

It turned into a snarl, instead.

"You have too much time, then, since you are nothing." Abraxas stood up, breakfast forgotten as his chair scraped across the floor. He slammed both hands on the table, noticing her little jump and flinch as he did so, but his anger overtook him. "You, Athena, will never be anything if you continue being this immature and holding grudges over things that have not even happened."

Athena had already shown enough emotion.

That flinch and little jump she had no control over were enough for her to tense and try not to show any other feeling.

Especially since, once again, Abraxas was too busy with his own emotions to notice hers.

Too busy with his anger to notice her fear.

"You do not know what has happened, Abraxas," she whispered softly.

She stared into those eyes she had loved as a child, the brother she so dearly loved but could never admit it.

They had many similarities as children, from their appearance to their personalities, but that all crumbled when Abraxas had been expected to uphold the Heir title. To train, learn, and focus on himself.

In return, he stared into those eyes he had loved as a child, the sister he so dearly loved but could never admit it.

Not when she had deep, undeniable hatred towards him. Or so he thought.

"I wish you could tell me what it is that I do not know," he replied, his words as soft as hers. And for a moment, Athena saw how genuine those words were in his eyes. "I would help, Athena."

A part of her almost laughed outright at his face. Another part of her wanted to tell him—but not when he always jumped at the opportunity to defend their parents. Not when he thought she was always in the wrong, and certainly not when he always blamed her.

In a way, he was exactly like their parents.

And to Athena, that was the biggest betrayal she had experienced over the years.

"You would not," Athena denied with a shake of her head as she looked into her twin brother's eyes. "You are a Malfoy, Abraxas. You would always choose yourself."

"You are a Malfoy as well, Athena." He stared right back at her, ignoring the pang in his chest at her words.

She let him speak, even though the words stabbed straight into her heart like an arrow.

Abraxas took his hands off the wooden dining table and placed them in his pockets, finishing his sentence, "You represent being a Malfoy more than you think, even if you do not have the blonde hair."

She could not stop her mouth from parting as he left, not bothering to await her reply.

She could not stop the tears rushing to her eyes almost immediately, as if his words had confirmed her deepest fears.

More than her mother's Cruciatus curse, her father's clear disdain towards her, and her brother's misconception of her. The misconception that was fed to him by their parents.