"Amaranthine"

Immortal, undying; unfading

10 January 1998

Camille stared at her daughter's wand, the polished wood gleaming in the dim light of the room. It felt like a relic from another life, a reminder of a vibrant spirit now extinguished. Mountains of condolence letters lay unopened on the table, sent from every corner of the wizarding world. Each one was a reminder of the influence she still held, and the void left by her daughter's absence.

All Camille wanted was to shut the world out, to retreat into the silence of her grief. But the thought of her daughter-in-law, Fleur, enduring this sorrow alone stirred something within her.

"Cami?" Fleur's voice broke through her thoughts.

"Oui?" Camille replied, her voice barely a whisper.

"Nothing," Fleur said, sitting down on the sofa. Camille could see the unspoken words in her eyes and waited patiently. "Your grandchild is kicking."

Camille's heart leaped. She hurried over, her hands trembling as she reached out. Fleur took her hand, guiding it to her belly. The gentle thump of the baby's kick was a spark of life amid their mourning.

"The little one is strong," Camille said, her voice thick with emotion. She smiled at Fleur and kissed her forehead. "You're so strong."

"Hey loves, I got some fruits—what's going on here?" Lucian asked, closing the door behind him.

"Your grand-baby is kicking," Camille said, her voice filled with a rare note of joy.

Lucian's eyes lit up as he set down the plate of freshly cut fruits. Fleur took his hand and placed it under Camille's.

"Don't cry, please. If you cry, I cry," Fleur muttered with a smile, brushing away a tear as it threatened to fall. Lucian quickly wiped his own eyes. "Can I get some oranges?"

"Of course, darling," he replied.

"Athena was very giddy when she first kicked," Fleur said softly, her voice tinged with nostalgia.

"Really?" Camille asked, eager to hear more.

Fleur nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. "It was a long day at work. I was panicking, thinking something was wrong. But Athena, always the calm one, just smiled. 'The little shit is kicking,' she said, and laughed."

Lucian peeled the oranges, handing them to Fleur one by one, sensing when she needed a moment to compose herself.

"She was so happy," Fleur continued, her tears flowing freely now. "She said it was our baby's way of saying hello. Whatever bad day she had at work just melted away."

"Sounds like my baby," Camille sniffled, gently wiping Fleur's tears.

"You're letting your daughter's foul words go? How outrageous!" Lucian teased, giving Camille a playful nudge. Fleur laughed softly, nestled between her in-laws, feeling their warmth.

It was the first genuine laugh they had shared since Athena's death, a small step towards healing amidst their shared grief.

— | —

"Babe, I got lunch," Ava called softly, stepping into the room.

"Oh, thanks," Damon replied, his voice thick with exhaustion. He placed a gentle kiss on Ava's cheek, his lips lingering a moment longer, seeking comfort in her presence.

"Damon," Ava said, her voice tender but firm as she cupped his face in her hands.

"Yes?" he responded, his eyes filled with a turmoil of emotions.

"What happened wasn't your fault," Ava assured him, looking deep into his eyes. "It could never be your fault."

"I couldn't do anything," Damon murmured, his voice breaking.

"You were never supposed to," Ava said softly. "Your sister knew that, and that's why she didn't take any of you with her. If she was afraid of dying, she wouldn't want to do it alone. Athena would have taken your mother and your aunt with her. She did it to protect all of us. There must be something she knew and kept from us. You and your family meant everything to her."

"You're her family too, you know?" Damon said, his eyes searching Ava's face.

"Am I really?" Ava asked, doubt creeping into her voice.

"She addressed you in the letter. Athena said she would haunt me if I didn't take care of you," Damon revealed, finally picking up the sandwich Ava had brought him and taking a bite. "I've been a jerk, praying that she would come back and haunt me."

"Baby," Ava whispered, her heart breaking for him.

"I am so sorry," Damon said, his voice cracking. "I missed my sister so much."

Ava let her tears fall, pulling Damon into her arms. He collapsed into her embrace, sobbing uncontrollably. He had been holding everything in for so long, and now the dam had finally broken. Ava held him tight, whispering soothing words as he let it all out.

"I know. I missed her too," Ava said, her own tears mingling with his.

"She adored you and Angel," Damon said between sobs. "She always wanted a sister, and thank Merlin the two of you showed up."

"Don't make me cry anymore," Ava joked, trying to lighten the mood. Damon let out a small chuckle, a glimmer of relief in his eyes.

"She showered me affectionately," Ava continued, her voice soft. "Of course, I know. I adored her too."

In that moment, they held each other, sharing their grief and finding solace in their love for Athena. It was a painful reminder of what they had lost, but also a testament to the bonds that remained, unbroken and strong.

— | —

"Corvy," Angel whispered, her fingers gently running through Corvus's hair. He mumbled in response, nuzzling deeper into the crook of her neck, seeking warmth and comfort.

"We have a dragon to chase," she reminded him, her voice a mix of urgency and affection.

"I am so comfortable though," Corvus murmured, his eyes still closed, savouring the brief moment of peace.

'Please don't be guilty. Be happy with your wife and check in on mine.'

Athena's words echoed in Corvus's mind, providing a balm to his troubled heart. She always knew how to ease the burden on her family, even in her absence. Those words were a lifeline, a reminder to cherish the love he had and to support those who needed him.

"Lovebirds!" Christopher's voice cut through the morning calm as he burst into their tent. "The dragon is not going to catch itself."

"The Romanians will be fine for a few more minutes," Corvus muttered, reluctant to leave the warm cocoon of his bed.

"This puts food on the table faster. The quicker we get this done, the sooner we can relax. Get your asses up," Christopher commanded, waving at Angel before stepping out of the tent. His no-nonsense attitude was a stark contrast to the tender moment they were sharing.

Angel was already dressed, having been pulled back into bed by her reluctant husband. She sighed, giving Corvus one last affectionate look before gently extricating herself from his grasp. "Come on, let's get some breakfast," she said, her tone coaxing rather than commanding.

Corvus finally opened his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched her move gracefully around the tent. She was his anchor, his reason for getting up each day. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, stretching as he stood. "Alright, alright, I'm up," he grumbled good-naturally.

As they stepped out into the crisp morning air, the camp was already bustling with activity. The scent of cooking food mingled with the earthy aroma of the forest, and the distant sounds of dragons could be heard, a reminder of their looming task.

The camp was a makeshift collection of tents, with dragon handlers and researchers moving about purposefully. Smoke from cook fires curled into the sky, mingling with the mist that hung low over the ground. The clatter of pots and pans, the murmur of conversation, and the occasional roar of a distant dragon created a symphony of sounds that was both chaotic and comforting.

They made their way to the communal area, where a simple but hearty breakfast awaited them. Christopher was already there, stuffing his face with bread and cheese. "Finally decided to join us?" he teased, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Better late than never," Angel replied with a playful smile, grabbing a piece of bread and handing it to Corvus.

They ate quickly, knowing they had a long day ahead. The hunt for the dragon was a dangerous task, but it was necessary. It was their livelihood, and it kept their minds occupied, giving them a purpose.

Christopher kept Athena's letter in a pocket, close to his chest—he made sure that he started his day with that letter in his pockets. He knew that his baby niece was protecting them everywhere they went.

— | —

Back to 25 December 1997

"What the fuck?" Athena groaned, looking around in a daze. Pain radiated from her abdomen where a giant splint had pierced through. Above her, a man muttered spells, his wand weaving intricate patterns in the air. "Who the fuck are you?" she demanded, her voice strained.

"I didn't know my niece knew such foul words," the man replied, his tone hinting at amusement.

"Answer the question," Athena gritted through her teeth. The man carefully pulled out the splint, and she screamed in pain, her nails digging into his arm in a desperate attempt to cope with the agony. He quickly took out potions and bandages, working with practised efficiency.

"Remember Uncle Reggie?" he said, his voice soothing yet familiar.

"Impossible, he's dead," Athena gasped, her vision blurring from the pain and shock.

"I assure you, I am very much alive," he responded gently. "My dear niece, rest. I've got you now."

As he continued to treat her wounds, Athena's mind raced. Memories of a kind man from her childhood surfaced, a man she thought she had lost forever. His hands were steady, and his eyes, though older, held the same warmth she remembered. The pain in her abdomen was intense, but the familiarity of his presence provided a strange comfort.

"Uncle Reggie," she whispered, her voice weak. "How?"

"It's a long story, and one I promise to tell you once you're safe," he replied, applying a potion that numbed the pain almost instantly. "For now, focus on healing. We're not out of danger yet."

"How am I—"

"Love. You were protected by love," Regulus whispered, his hand caressing Athena's cheek. "Save your breath now. I will explain and teach you everything I know."

Athena closed her eyes, her body finally succumbing to exhaustion as the pain began to fade.

Days blurred together as Regulus vigilantly watched over his niece, ensuring her recovery despite her persistent unconsciousness. Athena drifted in and out of sleep, her mind a chaotic battleground where her memories and Voldemort's intertwined in a nightmarish dance.

"My wife," Athena muttered weakly, her voice barely a whisper. Regulus hurried to her side, his heart pounding with hope that she was returning to him. "My Fleur."

"She's safe," Regulus reassured her, his voice gentle but firm. He watched as Athena slipped back into unconsciousness, her expression tortured. From what he had pieced together, Athena had fought valiantly to keep Voldemort out of her mind until she had been struck with the killing curse. "She's safe."

Regulus exhaled deeply, memories flooding back. He recalled Athena as a toddler, full of boundless energy, playing with Narcissa. Barely two years old and already showing signs of magic. He vividly remembered the joy on Camille and Lucian's faces. Their delight only grew when Atlas, Athena's twin, displayed magical abilities soon after. The twins had been inseparable ever since.

"W-where are we?" Athena's voice, though weak, broke through his reverie.

"Somewhere in France," Regulus replied.

"I-I need to go back!" Athena's voice rose in panic as she struggled to get out of bed. Regulus moved to restrain her, but she recoiled. "Don't fucking touch me."

"Sorry," Regulus said, backing away to give her space. "You can't leave."

"Why not?" Athena demanded, glaring at her supposedly deceased uncle. She winced, clutching her side in pain.

"It's not safe," Regulus explained.

"I couldn't care less about myself—"

"For your family," Regulus interjected, handing her a glass of water. "Your family—your wife is safe. The Death Eaters won't go near an Ashryver or an Auclair. The one they wanted is gone. They aren't foolish enough to wage war on France, knowing she has allies all around the world."

"Fleur's—I can't just leave my wife," Athena said, her voice wavering with uncertainty. She didn't know if she could trust Regulus or if this was another trick. He is a Death eater after all—that is what she knew or was told.

"You have to, at least for now," Regulus urged. "We have to fight this war in our way."

Athena stared at him, her eyes filled with pain and confusion. Regulus reached out, but hesitated, unsure if she would accept his comfort. He wanted to tell her everything would be okay, but he knew the road ahead was fraught with danger.

"We'll find a way to end this," he said softly, his resolve strengthening. "Together."

— | —