◤ ❝Could you feel it? When my heart broke in two? Did you see it?❞ ― Andromeda Erebus◢

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CHAPTER FIVE:    MOROS

September 2, 1996

              The way to the dungeons was eerily different. Blaise was the one to point it out as he followed Mia, Draco, and Theodore to their Potions classroom that had been Snape's for so long. It was not the familiar pathway that was different; it was still difficult to see, and at times awkward to get around corners, but the feeling of walking down them that made it so odd. They were expecting to walk into the same classroom it'd for five years. Not the one that their new professor, Slughorn, took over. Knowing the man's bubbly persona, Mia had a feeling that his class would be completely opposite from what they previously knew. She would hate it. But she wasn't allowed to hate it, which made her want to hate it even more. She had to muster all of her good inside of her and throw it in Slughorn's face.

"You reckon he'll talk about his Slug Club?" Blaise asked, walking ahead of her as they neared closer to the classroom. He glanced back to Mia, the only other one asked to be in it, with raised brows. "I suspect he'll want to speak with you. He looked at the compartment doors every time they rattled to see if you would be joining us."

Draco scoffed. "I'm sure he will. He depends on students' success to keep himself relevant in the Wizarding World—why else would a pureblood want the company of a Weasley and a mudblood? He's wasting his time, really. Not like anyone besides the two of you will have a successful career in his little club anyway." 

Theodore and Mia both curled their shoulders uncomfortably at how slickly Draco threw the derogatory term into the conversation. Blaise snickered, his family raising him to use the term 'mudblood' as casually as Draco's did, but the Radnor women had raised both of their children well enough to stumble on the word. If Mia abhorred Granger's existence as much as she did Potter's, maybe she would use it. But until that day came, she would settle with letting her friends have their beliefs and stick to what her family taught her. Even if those lessons were often disregarded. After all, her mother hadn't raised her to be a Death Eater either. There she was, though, struggling every day to conceal the mark burned onto her left arm. 

They made it to the corridor where Potions class was and noticed that two of the three other houses had beat them. Four Ravenclaws were there, along with a single Hufflepuff that shuffled around a bit uncomfortably as the only one from his house—Ernie was his name, Mia faintly remembered. He was a pureblood. Mia hummed out thoughtfully at how few people were progressing onto N.E.W.T. level Potions. Just as they arrived, the Gryffindors Mia hoped all flunked the class came. Her day couldn't have gotten much worse after that, noticing that all three of the Golden Trio were walking to the same classroom. 

"You've got to be joking," she muttered under her breath, her head going back against the stone walls. Maybe if she closed her eyes, they would disappear. To her left, Draco didn't look any more pleased than she did. Their luck was complete shit.

Potter ended up making small-talk with the lone Hufflepuff while Mia kept her eyes on the ceiling, pretending that he didn't exist. She just wanted Slughorn to open up the doors, that way she could be further than three feet from Potter. After this morning, she didn't trust herself. Thankfully, her wish was answered with a particularly loud 'whoosh' when Slughorn swung open the door. A small nudge from Theo had her straightening her neck, watching as the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs went through. It already looked too bright to be the Potions room. 

Blaise went in first, and Slughorn's face brightened with enthusiasm as he greeted the boy like he oozed hidden treasure. It made Mia sick. Draco was next, and she noticed that their professor made efforts to get him through the door as quickly as possible without making eye contact. Apparently, Slughorn's reputation against involvement with the Dark Lord did hold up.

He'd spotted her after Draco's slim body stepped out of view. "Oh! Miss Erebus! I was delighted to see that you would be in my class! I was so sad that you couldn't make it to the meeting on the train—come, come, come. We'll have to set up arrangements to speak later on..." his eyes caught sight of Theodore's tall frame coming through his door, and his expression changed again "...Mister Nott. Welcome to Potions." 

Theodore gave a small, polite nod in his direction. If Mia hadn't been so hell-bent on getting Slughorn to like her, she would have glared at him for how rudely he acted towards her cousin. He could have at least pretended to be a bit nicer to Theo instead of acting like he'd just watched him murder his first-born right before his very eyes. After all, Theodore was the good one in their family. She just hated that his reputation, much like Draco's, would forever be tarnished while she only just scraped by because of her skill. If Slughorn gave either of them a chance, he'd see that their futures were worth much more than the likes of Granger or Weasley. Had he not seen what she did on the train, she suspected her entrance would be as strained as the ones they received. If not, more.

The four of them ended up grabbing a table near the darkest corner in the room, unsurprisingly still trying to get used to all of light. There was a cauldron close to them, boiling and looking rather uninteresting. Mia's eyebrow quirked in interest, knowing immediately which potion it happened to be. Figuring that Slughorn would be asking them something about the cauldrons surrounding the room, she peered over at the others to try and figure out what they contained. Granger, it seemed, was doing the same. Time to play. 

"Now then," Slughorn started, moving his large body to the front of the room after closing the door behind him. "I've prepared a few potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest, you know. These are the kind of thing you ought to be able to make after completing your N.E.W.T.s. You ought to have heard of 'em, even if you haven't made 'em yet. Anyone tell me what this one is?"

He pointed to the cauldron closest to them. Just as he moved to lift it for the class to see the inside, Mia's right hand raised quickly. She just managed to peer out the corner of her eye to see that Granger had hers up, as well. Only just a little bit after Mia. Slughorn looked to her first, eyes bright with pride. She became a teacher's pet just like that. "The potion is Veritaserum, professor. It has no odor nor color, and it can become a dangerous potion because it forces the drinker to tell the truth. Depending on the dosage, it will wear off after a few hours." 

Draco snorted loudly, no doubt realizing what she meant earlier when she said that Granger would hate her. Theodore and Blaise just exchanged glances, wondering what had gotten into her. She'd never been this eager to explain something. Slughorn, on the other hand, was beaming happiness Mia's way. 

"Very good, very good, Miss Erebus! Now," he continued, shuffling a couple of feet to the table of Ravenclaws. Already preparing herself for more self-hatred, Mia had her hand ready to be raised. Oh, how much Draco would joke on her. "This one is pretty well known...Featured in a few Ministry leaflets lately too...Who can—"

"It's Polyjuice Potion, sir," Hermione blurted out before Mia could even attempt to raise her hand. The curly-haired girl sent a panicked look at the Slytherin table, almost concerned that she hadn't said it on time. Instead, she said it too early. 

She won either way, now that the girl had been disrespectful by cutting her professor off. Slughorn looked over at Hermione before continuing, turning to see if Mia had anything to add. She ignored Draco's snickering. "It's a difficult potion that allows the maker to assume the form of someone else. Witches and wizards rarely attempt to make it, given that the ingredients are often hard to come by and it takes a month before completion." 

She was reaching the end on the information she could rip out of her brain for the day. Even if she did read the books, that didn't mean she could pull definitions like Granger could. She probably ate them for dinner. That's why when he continued onto the next cauldron, Mia didn't bother. She allowed Hermione to quickly stutter out the answer, "Amortentia!" like she was being chased through the Dark Forest. 

"It is, indeed," Slughorn confirmed, nodding his head as he moved closer to Granger's table. "It seems almost foolish to ask, but I assume you know what it does?" 

Of course, she did. "It's the most powerful love potion in the world!" 

"Better hurry, Romy. You're losing," Draco whispered over the table, a grin stretching on his face. 

It wasn't one of happiness. His grins were more sadistic and twisted at the ends, and they were always unsettling for anyone who didn't share the same Chesire look as him. He was enjoying her attempts to better Granger far too much. Mia knew he would. If only he knew that she remembered every Dark spell in her father's books easier than she remembered these potions. She only glared at him, wishing that she could kick him in the shin. Even doing that was a mockery of her talent when she knew she was capable of so much more than physical contact.

"Quite right! You recognized it, I suppose, by it's distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?"

"And the steam rising in characteristic spirals, and it's supposed to smell differently to each of us, according to what attracts us, and I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and—" Hermione's ramblings ended abruptly, most likely as she came to the conclusion of who exactly she was smelling.

Rather than trying to steal the girl's limelight anymore, Mia was more curious about what she would smell from the potion. She was too far away at the moment, but she still wondered what attracted her. As far as she knew, she wasn't interested in anyone. If anything, it would be what things attracted her—and the scents of what she was interested in would leave the class in a deadly peril. Did darkness and deceit have its own aroma?

Slughorn, on the other hand, was very interested in Granger. "May I ask your name, my dear?"

"Hermione Granger, sir."

His brows lifted excitedly. "Granger? Granger? Can you possibly be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?"

"No, I don't think so, sir. I'm Muggle-born, you see."

"As if there was anything extraordinary about a muggle," Draco huffed, sniggering at his own joke. Theodore and Blaise joined in, catching the attention of the Gryffindor (and the lonely Ernie) table. 

Although Mia didn't laugh, she did glare at Potter the second he met her eyes. She was only happy to see that he was smart enough to turn away. The events that morning drained any ounce of defiance out of the Boy Who Lived. Maybe he finally caught onto the seriousness of Mia's hatred. Maybe he even realized that she was not someone he wanted to cross paths with. Their fates were already aligned enough as is. 

Slughorn didn't even notice the small interruption that came from the Slytherin table, instead focusing wholly on Granger. "Oho! 'One of my best friends is Muggle-born, and she's the best in our year!' I'm assuming this is the very friend of whom you spoke, Harry?"

Andromeda could feel the sourness of jealousy festering inside of her as she narrowed her eyes further on the Gryffindor table. Slughorn couldn't possibly believe that Granger was the best in their year. Not Granger. Not when there were things Mia could do that the girl would never even dream of. Why was it that the girl always got all of the praise—as everyone else was left behind to sit in her shadow because they did not find it necessary to answer the questions they knew? Granger was eager. Impatient. That did not become an equivalent of intelligence, no matter how many definitions she could recite. Her eyes narrowed menacingly on the Gryffindor's table, barely noticing how tightly her hands gripped the wooden tables. She wouldn't have been surprised if she caught splinters from how annoyed she was. 

What made it even worse was that Potter nodded in agreement with Slughorn. "Yes, sir."

"Very well. Take twenty well-earned points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger."

Mia's eyes widened in exasperation. This was not a part of her plan. Already, Gryffindor was beginning to take back the points that she and Theo got them in Defense that morning. From across the table, Draco shared her reaction as he gawked at Slughorn like he'd gone mad. "And what about Andromeda? Surely, she deserves some recognition, as well, professor."

Harry took his attention away from Hermione's ramblings to look at the Slytherin's table again in shock. When did Malfoy begin defending Andromeda? He knew that they were willing to stand by one another, but he never thought that Malfoy had the heart to defend anything but his own ass. Neither looked pleased that Gryffindor received points; probably because Mia spent the first few minutes of class rambling on like Hermione's double. Harry did notice, however, that Mia whipped her head to look at Draco with wide eyes as he defended her. It just convinced Harry more that they were hiding something. Draco didn't glance her way, though, defiantly staring at Slughorn until the man met his eyes. Their professor hadn't even looked Draco's way, though, and instead turned to look at Mia. 

Ron let out a grumble when Slughorn's face changed happily. "Of course! How could I forget—twenty points to Slytherin for Miss Erebus' sharp eye in Potions. Two bright witches in my class this year!"

"Huh," Ernie MacMillan said suddenly, interrupting Ron's ramblings about the unfairness of the house points. Even he was a bit stumped by the change of character from the Slytherins. "Never seen Malfoy care about anyone but himself."

He hadn't been quiet enough. His words carried over the Ravenclaws heads, landing directly in the sea of serpents. Mia's dark eyes turned in their direction again, but even when she looked ready to curse them until their bodies were as black as Malfoy's eye third year, there was still a hint of fear that she couldn't contain. Before Potter and his friends could say anything else, she was turning back around and pretending the last few seconds hadn't happened. That way, she could ignore how Malfoy continued to do exactly what he told her not to. Her point was portrayed clearly then in the face of Harry Potter—it was dangerous for her and Draco to be close to one another right now, and unfortunately, that was one thing they had to do to stay alive. 

Separating the two was turning out to be harder than expected.

――――――――――    

The elegant, aristocratic handwriting against the plain white had everyone worried for Andromeda all day. It'd come unexpectedly during lunch, surprising them when the owl came swooping in, dropping the wretched thing in Mia's lap before flying away. It was now just a few minutes past dinner, and she had yet to open it. It was crumpled up after spending the day in her bag, shoved beneath the many books and parchment. Now, they were back in the common room, and there was nothing stopping her from opening up the letter. Aside from blind fear, of course, that whatever lay beyond the elegant handwriting was news she did not want to hear. 

She ended up in a dark corner of the room an hour before she had to meet Draco, and she found herself noticeably wary whenever she heard the sound of footsteps. That was why she made the decision to wait until the only people left were a few first-years on the opposite side of the room, taking notes and talking to the portraits for Binns' class. Then, she waited no longer to open it.

Andromeda, 

You may have to.

Narcissa Malfoy left her with four, simple words that she knew only Mia would understand. With them checking every letter filtered in and out of the school, it was the easiest way to get a message across that would go by unsuspected. The note was not signed by the woman, but the conversation that they'd had just a few minutes prior to her leaving for the train rang in her head like a siren. Narcissa was sending her a warning. She just wasn't sure which part of the conversation it applied to--would she have to sacrifice herself for Draco Malfoy, or would she have to sacrifice someone else? Narcissa knew more than she was letting on. Something about what the Dark Lord was making Draco do. Something that Mia already knew would become her responsibility if he failed.

Did Draco have to kill someone? Glancing down at the words once more, Mia's body littered with a cold front, and she was curling the letter into a ball in her hands only moments later. She didn't waste a second to dispose of the evidence that could cost the lives of three people should anyone find out about the nature of Narcissa Malfoy's warning. Possibly even more. "Incendio."

The paper was on fire within seconds, only the tip of it left untouched as she escorted herself over to the fireplace. Once it was dropped in, the only word legible through the flame was her name. Soon enough, that disappeared too. The cold never subsided though, even standing in front of the warmth. Instead, it started to recede down her spine, and all she could think about was the four words lingering in her mind. 

"Mia?" She was brought away from the blazing fire in front of her eyes when someone laid their hand on her shoulder. Turning her head, her lips twitched into a small smile at her cousin. Theodore's face was full of concern. He squeezed her shoulder tightly before releasing her. "Is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine," she replied, dismissing his worry and moving to face him. He didn't look convinced, so she pressed further into a better lie. "Mother just sent me another letter asking how we were settling in this year. She's worried that people are talking about us. I think she's trying her hardest to make us believe that she's better than she actually is."

That worked. His face hardened at mention of his aunt's state, frowning deeply. "What are you going to tell her?"

"Surely, not that her daughter almost drowned the Ravenclaws because they don't know how to keep their mouths shut," Mia said, her jaw tightening as the memory resurfaced. It wasn't much better than the others from yesterday. "I don't think she would enjoy knowing I was causing all kinds of terror upon our classmates. I'm sure she'd love to hear that you were able to knock me down in Defense, though. Maybe, then, she won't be so concerned about you." 

Theo snorted. "I don't think I'm the one she's concerned about." 

"Okay, Golden Boy," Mia huffed out, nudging his shoulder when he let out a laugh. A smile broke on her face, knowing that there was definitely some truth to what he said. It didn't last as long as she would have liked when she glanced back at the flames to see the black ashes of the letter now coated the bottom of the fireplace. She sobered up quickly after that. "Theo?"

"Hm?"

"Will you promise me something?" she asked. When Theodore made no sound, she continued. "Promise me that you'll trust me. Even when you don't agree with me. Even when there are certain things I can't tell you. Promise me you'll always trust me. I don't know if I can get through this without you." 

It was quiet for a while. The faint chattering of the first-years on the other end of the room was just a dull ring in their ears, but Mia didn't dare turn away from the sea of orange that was burning her corneas. She was afraid of the answer he would give her. Though she would never admit it out loud, everything terrified her now. The fear of losing her family—of losing Theodore, specifically—outweighed it all. There was no possible chance of her surviving without him. He was her sanity. 

"Only if you promise to be careful," his voice rumbled deeply, cautiously. She could feel him step up next to her, his arm level with her shoulder. "I don't know what's going on or what you've gotten yourself into, Mia, but you need to promise me that you'll stay safe. If I'm going to trust you, I have to know that you're not going to do something stupid and get yourself into trouble."

Mia swallowed with difficulty; that was promising the impossible. She had already broken it before he said anything. "I'll try not to." 

"You need to promise me you'll be careful with Malfoy, too, Mia," Theodore continued, lowering his tone in disapproval. "The boy doesn't understand how to care for other people. Don't depend on him to be there for you when he has only ever been there for himself. Whatever is going on between the two of you...don't trust him too easily. You'll find yourself disappointed with what you find. There are certain people who do not deserve the benefit that you give so easily. Draco Malfoy may be your friend, but that doesn't mean he won't throw you in front of him just to save his own skin."

Mia's eyes darkened. There was something gnawing on her throat, urging her to defend Draco against her cousin. Theodore didn't know the weeks of torture that Bellatrix--and, by proxy, Mia--put him through just so he could learn Occlumency. He wasn't aware that she already knew everything there was to know about the bristly, blonde boy. All of his fears, his past, his thoughts had been bared to her that summer. Nothing she saw then made her disappointed in Draco. It made her disappointed in the life he'd been bordered into living. He would kill her himself if she ever spoke it aloud, but she pitied him. He had no chance of being anything more than what his parents compelled him to be. 

While she and Theodore didn't have it much better, they were given the freedom to be their own people rather than reflections of their parents. Draco had always spent his time trying to occupy parts of his life to his father's standards. However, she also knew that there was some truth in her cousin's words. If it came down to Draco sacrificing his life or saving it, he would undoubtedly leave her in the middle of a war. 

Mia didn't defend him. "I doubt Malfoy and I will be spending much time with each other now that we're back in school. I won't pretend that he and I didn't befriend one another this summer, though. I won't deny helping him if he needs me, either. You and I have each other, but he has no one. The two of you used to be friends once upon a time. What happened to that?" 

"A lot has changed, Mia," Theodore said, an ugliness in his voice that made her skin crawl. She turned to him with a raised brow. "You can try and convince your friends that your father's death has had no impact on your life, but you can't fool me. I know you're trying to make me believe that you've recovered after his funeral that morning. Today was just evidence of that. It's alright to let some people see that you're different." 

Mia frowned, her back curling as she crossed her arms over her body. Protectively. "And if you don't like the me I've become?"

"I'll stand beside her anyway," Theodore confirmed. "We're family, after all."

"Our family is cursed, Theodore." 

He scoffed. "What an understatement."

And an understatement it was. Their family was much more than cursed; they were bound by the darkness in their blood, so pure. Wherever they went, the only thing that followed was destruction. It was only a matter of time before it caught up to the last two in the bloodline. 

――――――――――    

The way up to the seventh floor made Mia weary, and she swallowed the swell that was forming in her throat with every growing second. Sneaking around like they were would be a lot easier if Draco hadn't resigned his position as prefect. Now, there were a million things drifting in the corridors that could expose them. Parkinson's face was one of the more frightening possibilities. She just hoped to all bloody hell that wouldn't happen. The last thing she needed to deal with was Pansy's spite for her indirect insinuation about her relationship with Draco over the summer. Naturally, Andromeda fashioning any bit of hope usually turned out horribly.

It wasn't Parkinson that she noticed as she walked through the sixth floor, but Professor Slughorn. Mia's jaw immediately clenched in distaste, stopping where she stood as she watched the man hum his way toward his office. She was far enough in the shadows that he couldn't see her if he looked over his shoulder, but that wasn't her main concern. The book that was in his hands, thinner than a textbook and no larger than a diary, was what caught her attention. Her interest was peaked the moment she saw the dark leather. That definitely wasn't something related to Hogwarts. It definitely was something that she wanted, and she had a sneaking suspicion that no one else was supposed to know about it.

She pulled her lips back in frustration, glancing back down the dark corridor then returning to where Slughorn was slowly disappearing. Either she followed after him and got cozy enough speaking to him that she could peak at what the book was, or she ignored the temptation and met Draco upstairs instead. The parchments in the pocket of her robe were the only thing that they had found to fix the cabinet so far. He would need them. 

She needed that book. Whatever it was, she knew that it was important. With the thought of the mission that the Dark Lord gave her in mind, Mia made her decision and drifted down the silent hall until she was watching as Slughorn slipped through the door of his office. Thankfully, it was nearly bedtime so she could use that as an excuse to escape Slughorn's enthusiasm before it suffocated her—and, hopefully, meet Draco before he brutally murdered her for making him wait.

Preparing for the worst, Mia knocked on the wooden door. And she waited. Unsurprisingly, Slughorn had the door open in seconds. His eyes looking rather exhausted until they focused on who was standing before him. 

Then, they got wide with electricity. "Oh, Miss Erebus! How lovely to see you. What can I do for you?" 

"I actually have a few questions about what we learned in Potions today, Professor," Mia explained, the charm rolling off her tongue like poison as she smiled politely at him. "I would have come up to you at dinner, but I noticed you were speaking to Professor Dumbledore and didn't want to interrupt."

His face lifted higher in glee, and he was gesturing for her to enter his office. Thanking him, she entered the large room. The same feeling she got earlier when she walked into the Potions classroom returned, like there was too much light. Although, that may have had something to do with the large fireplace that was directly in the center. Slytherin's colors were sported. Spots of silver and green were found haphazardly all over the place, subtle enough that it wasn't thrown in anyone's face but definitely detectable. A round dinner table was in the corner of the room, and she suspected that she would be sitting there before the year was up. To the right of her was his desk, and placed on the edge of it was the book he had been reading.

Humming under her breath, she began to inspect all of the pictures of the Slug Club that hung on the wall closest to her. While doing so, she began her lie. "My question was regarding the Amortentia potion." 

"I see! Well—I hope you aren't planning it on using any young wizard here," Slughorn stated, laughing a bit as he walked around to his desk. He didn't seem bothered at all by her appearance. "Though, I wouldn't doubt that making such a potion would come easily to you."

"Thank you, sir, but I don't plan on making the potion any time soon. Merely curious about a few things after leaving class today," Mia explained, her eyes tracing over a picture of the Slug Club more than a decade ago.

Lily Evans' red hair was the first thing she noticed. Her mother was standing in the picture a bit away from Lily. Celicia Radnor was very different to Celicia Erebus. This girl was smiling, laughing alongside another member of the club. It was odd, how much Andromeda looked like her mother and how little she looked like her all at once. Mia couldn't remember the last time she truly smiled, and God forbid the last time she laughed as hard as her mother was in the frame. They all looked happy. Now, some were dead. Others had lost their lives to a fate worse than death.

What she recognized next was the picture frame next to her mother's, and the boy that was in the center of the moving picture. Tom Riddle. He was younger there, her age. She'd only ever seen a picture of him once when she was small, but somehow she still knew which one was Tom. Her uncle was in the picture, as well. Theodore's father was next to Tom, but Eldrice Nott did not look nearly as terrifying as he did today. Her Lord stood proudly in the center with a smirk, Slughorn's arm wrapped around his shoulder as if claiming that Tom Riddle was his treasure. Her lip quirked, and her eyes darkened a bit when she realized just how much she truly admired how cunning he was. Even so young. All the power he already knew he had. 

"I apologize, Miss Erebus. I forgot I even had that picture up," Slughorn gushed, appearing by her side. 

"It's no worry, Professor. Tom Riddle is not the enemy. He is," Mia explained, warranting a surprised look from Slughorn. "Tom Riddle was a young boy who had his life ripped away from him at a young age. I'm not angry with him for what happened to my father—I'm angry with how the system of life works. People are not created with evil in their hearts. Tom Riddle was not born with the intention of growing up to become The Dark Lord. I believe that, while he did not have an innocent heart, he would not have wished to let an innocent die. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is the cause of Tom Riddle's death, as well as my father's. That is the system of life. We live, and we could die as quickly as we could heal."

She knew that some of what she just said was a complete lie, but not all of it. Staring into the face of the young boy, she saw some shadow of hope for him that she didn't see in the Dark Lord today. Maybe, it was because the picture was taken before he split his soul into seven different sections, but she suspected it also had something to do with the lack of blood spilled on his hands. Yes, he was corrupted by the Dark Arts and had a terrible childhood created from the main topic of their discussion, but he was only a child. He had a chance to change. He just chose not to.

Mia suspected she justified Tom Riddle because he was so much like herself. Turning her head slightly, she watched Slughorn. "You knew him well?" 

"I don't think we should discuss—" he paused, his eyes catching the boy once more and the smirk that spread along his face in the moving picture. He sighed. "While I try my hardest to not feed into favoritism, he was, by far, a student who captured my interest early on. I saw something in him that I believed would lead him to extraordinary things in the future...I see now that I was wrong. All that...that creation is is bitterness. Everyone ought to learn from his mistakes. I have. He was a mistake in the system of life, Miss Erebus." 

It was silent for a few moments, Mia letting what he said sink in as she shifted around on the heels of her feet. It was only when Slughorn cleared his throat, removing himself of the dreadful memories roaming in his mind, that she finally stepped away from Tom Riddle's face. "What was your question, Miss Erebus? I'm afraid it's getting late, and I wouldn't want to get caught up in the past and neglect you of learning." 

All I want to know is the past, Mia thought stubbornly, but instead blinked harmlessly and nodded. "Of course. I was just wondering what Amortentia may smell like to someone who has no particular interest in anyone specifically—if the potion itself cannot discern the traits of someone, what would they smell?" 

"A very good question! It would be certain aromas that they enjoy, then...that is, saying that the person truly doesn't have an interest in anyone. What they may be smelling is simply something that they enjoy because of that person—because they are around them so much, or care for them so much, that they've impulsively convinced themselves that it has nothing to do with anyone else. I believe everyone has an interest in someone, though...even the most wicked of us find something to care for, yeah?" 

Mia's lips turned into a false smile when he directed his ending statement her way, letting it replace the frown that was growing the longer he discussed his theory. It sounded correct, but she also didn't want to believe that she actually had any interest in anyone at the moment. She hadn't made a break for the Amortentia like some of the other girls in the Potions room, but she was still curious like anyone would be. It, however, was not the reason she was there. 

"Thank you, sir," Mia said. "I was just curious. I've always been interested in reading about the potions' histories, and I couldn't find anything about this particular subject."

He beamed, nodding as he moved back to his desk. "Well, I'm glad that you stopped by. It's always nice to fuel a bright mind with wisdom. You should be returning to your house, Miss Erebus. It's getting late...I'll see you in class tomorrow, bright and early." 

"Have a good night, Professor." 

On her way out, Mia made sure that she walked close enough to his desk to see the book. Although she didn't see much, she did notice that his initials were carved neatly on the spine of the book, and it was sealed shut by a lock that looked practically impenetrable. What was he hiding?

Mia, on her way out the door, found herself asking more questions than she was answering them.

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I love Andromeda. I love Theo. I love it all.

MOROS: BEING OF IMPENDING DOOM, DRIVING MORTALS TO THEIR DEADLY FATE