LOST IT TO TRYING
CHAPTER THREE

To say that Theodore Nott's betrayal rattled the Order of the Phoenix would be the understatement of the year. People were looking at Amora's friend group as if they were going to lift their sleeves and reveal a Dark Mark tattoo at any second. She wasn't as oblivious as to be unaware of all of the whispers happening as soon as she entered a room. An odd sort of nostalgia followed those hushed voices and intense stares. She had been through this before. Never was she the centre of attention for good things during her time at Hogwarts. This was no different, except maybe the stakes were higher.

"Leon reckons you have a curse," Blaise stated, planting himself down opposite Amora, immediately reaching for the box of cereal to the left of them.

Amora raised an eyebrow when Leon sat down beside Blaise, elbowing him roughly and shooting him a warning look. She stirred the coffee in front of her with wandless magic, her finger swirling circles above the steaming drink. It was all she could stomach that morning.

"And what curse would that be, Blaise?" She hoped he could detect her unimpressed tone as a dare.

"Every boy you kiss ends up following the Dark Lord," Blaise snickered.

Pansy's eyes narrowed. "That's fucking tasteless, you arsehole." She stood up from her seat, rolled a teatowel with both hands and then smacked him around the head with it.

Blaise yelped and grabbed the side of his face. "Hey! Leon said it."

"You two have shit for brains," Pansy scowled, "You don't say stuff like that. It's fucking awful."

Amora sighed heavily. "Yeah. It's too soon."

"It's been a week," Blaise said, "And if I don't poke jokes, I think I'll think about it too much."

She knew what he meant. It was so easy to lay in bed each night and think about the last five years they had spent as Order members with Theo. To try and pinpoint the very moment he may have betrayed them all. Whether it was towards the start or the end, maybe somewhere in the middle. Had it been an easy choice? What was in it for him? Did Theo genuinely believe in blood supremacy? Had the signs been obvious? Who was he—

"Amora." Pansy clicked her fingers in front of her face and the brunette shuddered, blinking back to life. "Don't listen to those two. It's got nothing to do with you."

"It was just a joke," Leon grumbled.

Amora thought of Theo and saw Draco. She could hear both their laughs— entangled into one— and wondered how such a pure sound could come from somebody who was able to be so manipulative and secretive. She saw both their smiles and felt her heart clench. Theo's forced departure from the Order was bringing up so many old feelings.

It was agonising. That pain in her chest, the palpitations that came every few minutes for weeks afterwards. The excuses she came up with in her head! After she had found out about Draco, she waited and waited and waited for him to show up with an excuse. It took her a year of Order meetings to realise he wasn't going to walk through the door with Severus Snape. She wore her charmed necklace against her skin for two years and then accepted it would never warm again before throwing it away.

Draco wasn't going to come back for her. It was real. He had no ulterior motive. He wanted to work for the Dark Lord. He had never been the person she thought he was. He could live without her.

Only when she accepted that was she able to stop mourning him. Mourning them. And most importantly, mourning the person she was when she had been with him.

With that experience under her belt, it was much easier to apply it to Theo. The sooner she accepted the facts, the sooner she would be able to move on again.

It was easier said than done.

"Meeting at half past twelve," Luna said, squeezing Pansy's shoulder, and then floated off to the next table of people to repeat the information, "Meeting at twelve-thirty." and so on.

Amora felt a lump in her throat form, solid and sharp, filling her chest and squeezing her heart. Absentmindedly she stopped stirring her drink, her fingers clenching into a fist. Her friends burned looks into each other, a collection of furrowed brows and pursed lips. A mutual feeling of dread had settled upon their shoulders, sinking them onto the seats beneath them.

For a moment, nobody said anything, and then Leon sucked in a breath and deflated. "That's never a good sign," he said solemnly as if already mourning for whatever it was that was about to happen.

"It must be the group he sent away," Amora realised quickly, and she felt queasy like she needed to rest her head on the table for a moment to stop it spinning and whirring. "The twins, Wood- Neville. For the food supplier job. It's been ages since they were supposed to be back."

"I think you're probably right," Blaise said uneasily, "I heard people talking about it yesterday. Delacour and her friends—"

"Why were you hanging around Delacour and her mates?" Leon said, scrunching his nose up.

"Is that really relevant?" Blaise shot him a look and spoke over Leon's splutters. "Obviously she's got that thing going on with Bill Weasley, who told her he hasn't heard from his brothers, either. It's been completely silent."

Pansy sighed and pressed her hands to her face, spreading her fingers to her temples and rubbing hard circles.

"Okay. Let's expect the worst then," Pansy said and stabbed her fork into the bowl of fruit.

Amora struggled to concentrate for the next few hours. Leon went back to bed in an attempt to sleep his nerves away. They should be used to casualties being announced by now, but when those casualties were people you went to school with, there was always this secondary sort of grief that brought about panic and kicked things into perspective.

She sat in the library for hours, cross-legged on the floor of the tiny fiction section that they had— all donated from Order members' personal libraries. She read Muggle and Wizarding books. Thriller, crime, romance, comedy, coming of age... Over the last five years, Amora had discovered some of the best and worst books she had ever read. She and Pansy had bets over which witch had brought Muggle books with shirtless, ripped men on the covers, all containing cringe-worthy titles such as "The Billionaire's Wife".

At first, Amora bet on Professor McGonagall. When Pansy thought it could be Molly Weasley, she had to agree. They spent countless evenings giggling over the covers and reading lines to one another when there was nothing else to do. The boys had even gotten involved before, after a few too many drinks at a birthday celebration. Leon had been worryingly good at playing the role of the innocent, shy young woman who wanted nothing to do with Pansy's version of ripped, manipulative boss.

Dragging herself to the meeting hall was a chore. She found Pansy on the way, and the two filed into the room which used to get so full that people would have to stand around the walls but now could accommodate chairs for dozens more.

"Settle down, settle down," Lupin demanded, and chattering became whispers which became nervous silence. Rows of faces stared up at him. "Thank you all for attending this meeting today. I'll try to keep this as short as possible. It's going to be quite heavy."

Moody hobbled over, slamming his stick down next to Lupin. "As you all know, Snape was murdered by Death Eaters. As our only source of information, we relied on him heavily. We were forced to send a few of our own into a mission which had extremely high stakes."

Amora looked around anxiously. She could see no heads of red hair from where she sat. Her suspicions were confirmed. The families had already been told.

"Without Snape, we had no choice but to send our people in mostly blind," Lupin continued and pursed his lips for a moment. "The mission was unavoidable. If we had done nothing, our food suppliers would have been eradicated. Our people were successful. They saved us from starvation or disbandment due to lack of resources. However, I dread to inform you all that they were unsuccessful in returning to us safely."

There were gasps around the room, some cries, and a few whispers, but to say that most of the hall had worked it out by now was an understatement. They were days late coming back by now, and close friends and family had probably already started their mourning a while back. Amora felt her heart fall all the same.

"Oliver Wood. Fred Weasley. George Weasley. Neville Longbottom," Moody announced gruffly, and with every name, Amora felt worse and worse. Especially Neville, her first friend on the Hogwarts Express. The first person to show her kindness. "Do not forget their names. Say them out loud. Remember what they have done for us. Eat every meal— savour every bite, and never complain a-fucking-gain. They died for you to eat. For you to fight for the cause."

"A minute of silence for our fallen, please," Lupin said as if the room was not already drowning in it.

Every witch and wizard raised their wands in the air. Amora swallowed as she looked to the front and found Moody staring at one face in the crowd.

Hers.

D.M + A.B

"I think you've been acting strange recently."

If Draco was surprised, he didn't show it on his face. He stopped chopping the griffin's claw he'd working on, and still did not look at the shorter girl beside him. Amora studied him as if she would catch him— watch his Adam's apple bob in a gulp, his nose twitch, his shoulders tense...

Draco just hummed. "How come?"

"I'm not sure exactly which bits to pinpoint," Amora said softly, stirring their potion anti-clockwise, glancing down at the dark purple simmering liquid. It was easier to look at that rather than his face. It felt like she could talk properly. Say what she meant.

"You could try," Draco snorted slightly, and then started to dice the claw even smaller. "Then I'll know what I'm doing wrong."

"You're not doing anything wrong," Amora said, and couldn't help but reach a comforting hand out, squeezing his bicep through his dark robes. "I'm just slightly worried. You seem to be keeping to yourself a bit more this year. Pans, Blaise, and Theo have said the same thing."

Draco sighed. "I'm just trying to pay more attention this year," he replied, "Doing some extra homework and whatnot to get on the teachers' good sides. What with my father being sent to Azkaban and all... it's good for the family image if at least one of us is excelling at something."

Draco lifted the wooden board and used his knife to scrape the griffin claw into the potion. "Three more stirs," he said.

Amora did as he told her. After three gentle turns, she took out the large spoon and placed it in the decontaminator jar. Instantly, purple glitter evaporated from it, dispersing in the water and dissolving completely. She wiped her hands on the apron she wore before untying it from around her waist and rolling down her sleeves.

Draco was lifting their small cauldron to the other side of the classroom. He left it behind the label that had both their names on it. On the same shelf sat the cauldrons of other pairs in their class, some of which looked amazing, and others which were already going wrong.

"Now we need to leave it for ten days and then add some more griffin claw, then ten more stirs whilst on the heat," Draco said, and ticked the worksheet beside their assignment. Sixth year Potions was such a chore.

Amora grabbed Draco's hand as soon as he released the quill, pulling him around. She grabbed his face, fingertips reaching the soft lengths of his platinum-white hair, and then yanked him down to a kiss. One of his large hands planted on her shoulder, as if to steady himself from the surprise, and dug in as his lips moved against hers roughly.

She gasped when Draco's other hand moved down towards her backside, giving it a small squeeze. Her nails grazed his neck, his entire body shivering, a thigh moving between her legs. Draco shoved her backwards against the cabinet, a mess of billowing robes and tangled mouths, hands everywhere, and then Amora was pushed too roughly and there was a loud crash and the gushing sound of liquid.

Amora yelped as they tore apart, dark eyes wide, her arms flying around Draco's neck as he yanked her quickly off of the side. A warm liquid covered the back of her robes and had seeped into her uniform beneath it. She quickly pulled it off of her body. Draco grabbed it from her hands.

"Shit," he said, "You have about ten seconds before that burns through your skin."

"What!?" Amora screeched, but before she could start yanking her skirt down in the empty classroom, Draco was bending over, laughing. "What on earth? Help me!"

Amora faltered, cheeks warm, feeling utterly flustered as she watched the corners of his eyes crinkle, his lips turning up into a wide grin. His laugh was like hearing a song she hadn't heard in years. A good one.

"That is a horrible joke," Amora spat at him and shoved him with her elbow, though she couldn't help the corners of her lips twitching, too. "Absolutely awful."

"I couldn't resist," Draco grinned easily, and rested his hands on her hips, drawing her closer. "I mean, it would have burnt you, so that was stupid, but luckily it was Weasley and Potter's potion." he gestured to the name tag that now had nothing but a knocked-over cauldron on it. "They haven't updated their healing potion in three weeks. The worst thing in it is dragon liver right now."

"Nice," Amora cringed, pinching the bottom of her skirt and grimacing. "I'm all soaked in dragon liver."

"Here." He shrugged off his robes and then placed them delicately on Amora's shoulders.

She secretly inhaled the smell of his clothes. Peppermint. Aftershave. Fresh linen. Her heart fluttered as if she was just a girl with a stupid crush on him. This was her boyfriend of two years and she swore those butterflies would never be set free.

"Thanks," she tried to sound as though she was still annoyed. "What do we do about their potion now?"

Draco glanced over at it and pulled his wand out. "Scourgify."

The liquid cleaned itself up, and he manually grasped the small cauldron, pulling it back onto its stand. It was now empty. He hummed for a moment, deep in thought, and then his silver eyes twinkled the way they always did when he had something up his sleeve.

"How about..." He grinned, "We help Potter and Weaselbee out with their potion?"

Amora tried to resist the urge to smile. She knew it was wrong, but Merlin forbid they have a little bit of fun that year.

Into the ingredients cupboard, they disappeared.

How could she put herself through that again? How could she look Draco in the eyes again and pretend that she would do anything to hurt him as he hurt her? Like he hurt her friends. How could she see Theo whilst his betrayal was so fresh?

Amora paced back and forth in her bedroom. Most people had retreated to their own confide spaces after the meeting, some silently and some audibly processing the news, but Pansy had gone somewhere with Luna. No matter how much Pansy insisted she only liked Luna as a stress relief, Amora knew her best friend was only kidding herself.

It was silent aside from sobs coming down the hall, in one of the rooms. Amora banged her head against her small desk, keeping in there, closing her eyes, painfully slumping against the wood. She couldn't believe that people her age had died— an entire group of people— and it could have potentially been prevented.

All she kept thinking about was Neville. His kindness, his bravery, his willingness to always do the right thing. He was dead. He was dead and somebody could have done something. Somebody could have helped him.

She could have. She could help others in the future. Selfishly, she wanted absolutely nothing to do with the Death Eaters that murdered people like Neville Longbottom. She didn't want to associate herself with people who believed Purebloods were superior to everybody else. Nor did she want people to think she could ever possibly agree with the side that murdered innocent families— children!

It made her feel nauseous. She rubbed her temples and closed her eyes. Inhaled. Exhaled. Thought. Debated out loud. Even cried a little bit. She slept on it. By morning, she had her answer for Moody and Lupin.

D.M + A.B

The sterile office felt colder than ever. Amora wondered if it was supposed to be that way so you felt intimidated. So that Lupin and Moody appeared more in control, and more powerful. Perhaps so you would associate the room was the utmost importance— with nothing but business.

This was just business to them. She was a sacrifice that they were willing to make.

Neither of them smiled when she said they would do it. It made her more nervous. As if she had just signed away her life, which, she supposed she had for a while, if she made it out of this alive. It was for a good cause. She knew this. Amora knew that if she was going to die, she had always wanted it to be for something. Something noble like this.

"Thank you, Miss Buckley," Moody said, "We think you have made the right choice. You'll be a very valuable asset from now on."

Asset. From now on.

"We'll have to go over the plans," Lupin nodded in agreement. "We won't send you in without as much training and information as we can possibly give you. As long as you're a quick learner, you should be on the field in the next... three weeks, I'd say."

"Three weeks," Amora breathed. "That's— that's nothing."

"Times are hard, Miss Buckley," Moody said gravely, narrowing his eyes at her. "We cannot afford any more casualties. The Order are dropping like flies. There's talk of people wanting to leave due to our worsening conditions. So much sacrifice and death, little reward. Morale is at an all-time low. We could be wiped out within the year if we're not careful."

Amora swallowed that lump in her throat. The one that had been there for days now. She forced a nod, though her head felt as if it weighed a tonne and her neck was stiff.

"Right." She cleared her throat and straightened her back. "I'm eager to learn it all. I want this to work."

"Of course you do," Moody said, "There are grave consequences for yourself if you fail. I'm sure you can read between the lines and realise that."

Amora winced. "Yes. I'm not... I'm not stupid, Moody."

Lupin sighed and sent a pointed look to the shorter man. "Buckley, we're going to need you to learn Occlumency. I know you've already been trained in it, but you'll need more. We have people who can help you with that. We'll give you some books on dark magic, too. You'll need to know some dark spells, most likely they will ask what you know— you'll need to seem interested and know a thing or two."

Amora nodded along. "Should I... Can I take notes or something? I don't want to forget."

Lupin chuckled a little. "No need for notes. We'll take it day by day. You'll be spending a lot of time with Moody and me from now on. We'll go over the process the Death Eaters take when you need to prove your loyalty to them. They use a Pensive. We'll have to create some fake memories for you. Some information... will have to be Obliviated, Miss Buckley. In case of worst case scenario, so the Order is not compromised."

Amora froze. She thought of Pansy, Blaise, and Leon.

"Like what?"

"Locations of Order headquarters, important passwords, current plans and strategies we are taking, any secret magical defences we have..." Lupin listed, "Things like that."

Amora furrowed her brows and thought for a moment. "But... How will I explain these gaps in my memory to them? The first thing they may ask me is what you are planning, and where the headquarters are. What do I say?"

"We'll fabricate a memory for you, that they will see at your trial," Moody said, "An entire spectacle in which we confront you, and Obliviate you before releasing you onto neutral territory– like we do with most of the Death Eaters we interrogate."

All of the Death Eaters were released after interrogation to keep as much peace as possible, and all were Obliviated from the point of turning up on the mission they had been captured on. Most of these Death Eaters had memories inserted that felt real but were fake. For example, Moody often gave them wrong addresses for headquarters, or wrong details of attacks, so the Order could turn up and attack with the upper hand. Some were also given a new version of the Trace that Slughorn and Snape had co-developed, in which the Order were able to see where the Death Eaters went— until they realised that they were being tracked and managed to remove the Trace. Now, the Death Eaters knew to expect it— the first thing they often did after being captured was find somebody who could deactivate it for them. How they had learned to do it was beyond Amora. Despite their morals and values being completely stupid and irrational, she supposed they must have some smart wizards and witches among their ranks.

"Okay," Amora said, "And how will they ever believe that I have defected? My mother was the Muggle Studies teacher— and they murdered her! Publicly, nevertheless. They know I would have seen it. They know I would be fucking furious."

"You use just that," Moody said, "You use your anger and you direct it elsewhere."

"Elaborate, please."

"When your mother was murdered, you had always blamed the Order deep down," Lupin said, "That is what you will say. You will say the Order did not do everything they could to protect her. A part of you has resented them since. When you felt strong enough to read her work, you couldn't believe she had put everything on the line to defend Muggleborns, especially when you were Purebloods. You thought it was stupid she would sacrifice herself for a cause that didn't impact you. You realised—"

"I realised I share the same ideologies as Death Eaters," Amora deadpanned, a bitter expression on her face.

She breathed in and thought of that day about five years ago now. The day her mother left her behind. Elle Buckley had been missing for weeks, then months. When the Ministry had finally been fully infiltrated by the Death Eaters, Voldemort celebrated with the public execution of many of his prisoners.

Garrick Ollivander.

Arthur Weasley.

Andromeda and Ted Tonks.

Madam Pomfrey.

Xenophilius Lovegood.

Hermione Granger.

Elle Buckley.

"We know it will be hard," Lupin attempted to sympathise. "We know it is most likely the last thing you will want to say. We attempted to create other reasons— such as using your relationship with Draco Malfoy as an advantage point. We thought you could lean into that, but we've decided you would be at more of an advantage if people were not aware of your past connection."

Amora furrowed her brows. "I have to hide it."

She was good at that. She certainly had experience in it.

"Yes," Moody said, "Malfoy will know, of course, but if he has any sense he'll keep it to himself. He'll want answers from you. You use that. Negotiate. But if others find out, they may try and keep the two of you apart— or they will keep a closer eye on you, or exploit it as a weakness. Either way, it's not safe. You just need to blend in and keep your cover. The Dark Lord does not have a sympathetic bone for star-crossed lovers, Buckley. It will only heighten tensions."

"Got it," she muttered. She supposed it made sense. Besides, she didn't want to play the part of the lovesick girl who was willing to change sides to be with a man she had not seen since she was seventeen. That would only make the situation harder.

"Great," Lupin said, sliding some Muggle money across the desk. "Go and spend the day doing whatever you please. Tomorrow, come here straight after breakfast. You'll start your training right away."

Amora took the money and crumpled it in her palm. If rationed properly, she could take her friends out for a meal. And maybe she could pick up her last pick'n'mix for a while on the way back.

...
Hope you enjoyed despite how long it took to write!! It's starting to get juicy though, you'll meet draco again soon! 

Dyiansobrien.

w/c: 4200