◤ ❝Oh, have no pity on the damned! They are the only ones who will escape this war unscathed; everything they had is already gone. The real pity goes to the ones still alive when the fire has burned out and the bodies are collecting around them.❞ ― Kal Radnor ◢

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: ELEOS

December 10, 1996

                  December was Andromeda's least favorite time of year. The only exception to her hate, she supposed, was that it was the birth month of her cousin. Aside from that, there was absolutely nothing that she despised more than the cold festivity of everything. Others reveled it, both in celebration of winter break and Christmas, but Mia had no fond memories to look back on like they did. Winter break was always quiet, unnaturally still in the Erebus manor. Her grandparents would come over for three days between the 24th and the 26th, and Theodore would visit, as well, but familial bonding has never been a specialty with her family. Even when her father was alive, they tended to step on one another's feet and try not to get into arguments (her family, unsurprisingly, were very opinionated witches and wizards). It had been that way for as long as she could remember. Only after her aunt's death did it get worse.

As the time approached, and both winter break and Slughorn's disgusting Christmas party neared, Mia started to feel a drastic change in the atmosphere around her. She wasn't entirely sure why, but in some ways, it felt like she was taking her last breaths of fresh air. Everything would change when she returned back to Hogwarts in January, that she was sure of. It would be a new year. Time was dwindling down significantly, and June was only a few months away. Life, she realized, was escaping her―and she had a sneaking suspicion that 1997 would not be a year of prosperity for anyone in the War.

Thoughts still running wild, Mia glanced down at the piece of paper in her hands. Earlier that afternoon at lunch, she received a letter from her mother. It was obvious that it came from her by the way that her name was written on the envelope. The elegant handwriting, curving all of the letters but her first A, was symbolic of Celicia Erebus. Theo and her only acknowledged it briefly, knowing that she wouldn't open it in front of everyone. She learned that a long time ago.

Now, she was alone to her own mind in the Room of Requirements. Sitting on the cold floor, the dusty, old rug was barely enough to make her comfortable. Her back was turned to the Cabinet, one thing that she found herself doing the second she walked into the Room. For some reason, she could not build up the courage to look at it as she read her mother's letter. Perhaps it was because Celicia always made her feel like the world around her wasn't completely caving, and the Cabinet was the resting reminder that it most certainly was. The letter was impenetrable hope, and the Cabinet was impending doom. 

Nevertheless, she ignored the fear creeping up her spine and tore open the letter.

Andromeda,

I apologize for not writing sooner. It has been incredibly difficult to find the opportunity, and the Ministry had been keeping a close eye on what I was doing as of late. The aftermath of the trial has ceased any suspicion, and the manor is finally allowed its peace. I know Atlas, that wicked cat of yours, had set his sights on Arthur Weasley if he dared disturb him again. He is doing well. He misses you.

I hope that things are going well at school and that you are enjoying your classes this year. I spoke with Narcissa a few nights ago. We have been meeting often recently. It's particularly unsettling in an empty home for the two of us. She says that Horace Slughorn is teaching again at Hogwarts. He was spectacularly mad when he taught my year, but incredibly wise in a mind of his own. He has always found intrigue in talent―I was not surprised to find that his interest peaked with you. He wrote to me recently, soon after the trial, to give his condolences. He seemed particularly fond of you and your gift with magic. Remember where he came from. How he is no different than you or I. We always did love the color green. That may provide you with later assistance.

Give my love to Theodore. Mother and Father are excited to see the two of you over the holiday break. Your Grandfather Kal has been writing nonstop about his pride over Theodore to me. Apparently, he is on the Quidditch team now? Athella would have been so proud. Just as I am of you both. She and I always knew that the pair of you were destined for greatness. It is in your names, and in the Radnor bloodline, after all. Remember that your purity comes from the heart, and not something as dry as the Sacred Thirty. You have the mind of a Radnor, the heart of an Erebus.

As the Ministry was searching the manor, they came across a few pictures in one of your father's chests from when we were younger. At Hogwarts ourselves. I've sent them with this letter, and I hope that they find you well. Perhaps you can share some of them with Draco and Theodore. Their fathers were pictured, as well. My favorite is Athella and I with you and your cousin―I thought that one may be your favorite too. Just remember that you cannot live in the past but there is always the potential to learn from it.

My Mia. Stay safe. I understand it is becoming difficult as of late. The stresses of the world may seen impossible, but remember: you do not have to hold it on your own. Look around. You may find that there are people already carrying parts of your pain like it is their own. Alastiare and I learned this much too late. Friendship, as I know now, pardons much that we have not yet committed. Family, even more.

I will see you in a matter of days. Expect a conversation.

Celicia.

She carefully laid the various pictures out on the floor, noticing that there was a large amount of them concealed with the letter. It lay to the side now, her curt and beautiful cursive laying deep into Mia's heart. Celicia had a way with words that showed in everything she wrote, and although this letter was no exception, she could still feel the pain in each connected letter. Her mother was still grieving, still angry at what happened to her husband. This letter, in particular, was still like most. Detached. Always a distance away from Andromeda, never close enough to admit love.

Mia's eyes found the picture her mother was talking about within the first few seconds. She had placed it on top of the others. Athella and Celicia were both smiling brightly, her aunt's blue eyes a vivid replica of Theodore's. She and her cousin were sitting in their mothers' laps, but it was obvious that the camera was the last thing either of them cared about as Mia reached to play with his hair. They couldn't have been any more than a year old, Theo a few months older than her. She knew why her mother loved this picture so much. Athella was not only alive, but she was healthy. Aging beautifully, her blonde hair falling down her back and contrasting with Celicia's dark, black hair.

She tucked that picture into her pocket, knowing that Theodore would want to see it even more than her. The next few pictures were of her father, close to her age, and she felt a large lump form in her throat when she saw him. Alastiare was young. She hadn't realized how much she looked like her father; she had her mother's eyes, but everything else was him. He was truly her twin in another life, and as she watched him throw his head back and laugh, she wanted nothing more than to hear it. It had been so long, too long, since she had seen her father laugh like that. Her shaking fingers continued to sort through the pictures, unconsciously leaving the lone picture of her father's happiness out of the pile as well.

Edrice Nott was in a few alongside Athella, as well as her parents. He, too, looked like a different man. Still older and worn down, but no one could deny the way he looked at Athella. She moved to the next and was not surprised to see Alastiare and Lucius, the latter a few years older than her father but still grinning next to him as they showed off their Slytherin robes. The picture after was Celicia and Narcissa, smiling and holding their pregnant stomachs. Celicia's was much larger, the four months between she and Draco's birth dates showing.

Then her fingers felt for the last picture in the stack, this one slightly torn at its edges like someone had ripped fiercely at it. Her brows furrowed in confusion, putting the others down so that she could inspect it. The breath she was holding in hitched in her throat, and she heard the choke that came from her lips as she stared in horror.

Sirius Black and Alastiare Erebus were standing alongside one another, but in the arms of Sirius was a small child. A baby, no more than a few weeks old. Mia didn't need to think twice to know that it was her, and the small pinky finger she had wrapped around her hand belonged to the man who killed her father. They were young. Sirius did not look deranged like he had all of the other times she'd seen his picture, but instead, he looked happy. Content. He watched down on her like she was his pride and joy, and Alastiare watched the two of them with his own smile stretching on his young face.

What is this? she thought, her anger building her chest as she continued to look at the picture. Why had her mother sent this? Was it meant to be a joke on her? Her hands flipped to the back desperately, looking for any indication that it was another man holding her and not who she believed it was. No. Written clearly, in her mother's handwriting, on the back of the picture was the truth.

Alastiare Erebus, Sirius Black, and baby Mia.

February 28, 1980

"Andromeda?"

Andromeda barely registered the sound of her name as she glared vehemently at the picture, turning it back around so that she could inspect it more. The edgings were ripped because it had been. At the very least, it tried to be destroyed. Her heart fell in her chest, wondering who had attempted to destroy this picture and why it hadn't worked. Had her father placed a spell on it? Or her mother? Her brown eyes lit with a different kind of rage, and she grabbed the top in her two hands to attempt rip it herself.

As she pulled in opposite directions, roughly and desperately, she felt no tear from it. A rumble of anger fell from her lips as she tried harder, putting as much strength as humanly possible in the picture with the attempt to rip it to shreds. Still, the resistance was too strong and the only thing that happened to the picture was a small cut in the frame. Now another one of many small cuts littering the framing of it. No damage itself to the actual picture, and a strangled cry escaped her as she was left to glare again.

Before she could even shout Incendio in her mind to set it afire, the picture was snatched from her grasp and she was no longer looking at the image of her hell. Mia's head shot up with fury, prepared to snarl at whoever tried to interrupt her destruction, but it died in her throat when she realized it was Draco. Her shoulders fell in defeat almost instantly. He crouched down in front of her, looking at the picture with an indifference that made her entire body shudder. Finally, he glanced up and met her eyes, and the grey warmed all of the cold that she was drowning in. His face softened at her.

"Romy," he muttered, placing the picture on the ground. "You're crying."

Mia reacted harshly to that statement, her head jerking back as she raised a hand to her face. She was, in fact, crying. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and she felt the wet streaks coat all the way to her neck. Another fit of emotions rang through her as she quickly wiped them away, desperate to erase any trace of pain that the picture caused her. Draco knew better than that. He carefully moved to sit down next to her, still in his school uniform from earlier that day. Her brown eyes watched as he put his forearms on his knees, crossing his ankles in the most comfortable manner she had seen him in recently. 

 "Where did you get these pictures?"

"My mother sent them," she said, but to her horror, her voice broke. Draco tensed briefly. She swallowed hard, cursing herself in her mind. "They were found in one of my father's old chests after the last search."

He nodded, his eyes glancing down at the others. "I'm assuming she didn't mention the last one being in there."

"I knew that they were friends once, but not after school. Not after..."

"Not after Alastiare got his Mark," Draco finished. He looked in thought at the picture, then flipped it around to see the date. Two weeks after her birth. "Black wouldn't have been in the Order officially yet, Romy. Maybe he was working with them, but he and the others hadn't been officially inducted, if I'm correct. Father always said Black didn't become severely vigilant in the war until the McKinnon family's death and the Prophecy. Both happened after this was taken."

Mia scoffed, rolling her eyes as they filled with tears again. "And that makes it any better? That Black hadn't yet allied himself with the enemy as he held a Death Eater's daughter in his arms? It doesn't make any sense, Draco. He had to have known what my father was at the time of that picture...even if he wasn't working for the Order yet, everyone knew that the Erebus family was with the Dark Lord. So why were they friends? Why was he there? If he was so determined to fight against the Dark Lord, why was he friends with my father?"

"Maybe they were playing one another."

"No," she said, coldly as she glanced at the picture he held again. "Black played him. My father still sacrificed himself for the wretched man, and I'll bet it is because he was stupid enough to believe they were still friends."

Draco was quiet for a moment. "Romy..."

"Please, we can't pretend like there is an alternative explanation for this, Draco. I have heard a million different situations from so many people about what happened that night, and each one of them still hold the same truth: my father died because of that man holding me. My father was foolish to allow his emotions get in the way of this fight. He allowed compassion to overrule his preservation. Sirius was a better Slytherin than my father ever was!" she barked out a shallow laugh, her face twisting bitterly "...so perhaps I do understand why my mother sent me that. To never be foolish enough to allow emotion cloud my judgement."

"Or she sent it to remind you that the past is messier than we know."

Mia tensed at his words, her head shooting up to look at him with wide eyes. His brows furrowed in confusion at her reaction, but before he could ask anything, she was reaching an arm over his body and grabbing hold of her mother's letter. 

"She mentioned something about the past in her letter," she explained, her eyes sorting through the words. "Here: 'Just remember that you cannot live in the past, but there is always the potential to learn from it.' What if she was talking about my father and Black?"

Draco's face twisted in confusion. "What? That you shouldn't trust those you call friends? We've known that, Romy. No one is trustworthy enough to keep your life safe in their hands. Why do you think we have only ever had one another throughout this?"

"I don't know," she sighed. "It just feels like there is more to this. All of this...to my father's death, his friendship with Sirius."

Draco never said anything in reply, but the frown that stayed present on his face showed how he felt. They were quiet for a while as her tears dried to her cheeks, and Mia watched with a sudden hit of exhaustion as he shuffled through the pictures. He paused briefly when he saw his father, but continued on until he had reached the end of the pictures. Back to a particular one, one that seemed to be his favorite, he kept his eyes on the picture of Narcissa and Celicia. His lip twitched momentarily, the only indication of a smile as he turned around the picture to see if there was any script on it. Mia kept her eyes on him, curious as his mouth formed the words of their mothers' names silently.

It was certainly peculiar that they were staring at their young, pregnant mothers, both of them resting close to their hearts as they readied themselves for the cruel world. Sad, as well, that the four people in that picture full of so much life now knew the concept of loss so well. The smile on Draco's face dropped, and she wondered if he had the same thought. She reached to grab a hold of his left arm, squeezing it gently as it held on tightly to the image. It was the only consolation she could offer him.

Then, Draco spoke and his voice was no louder than a whisper. "How did we end up here, Romy?"

He hadn't needed to explain. She could tell what he meant, and it was a question that sunk deep into her heart as she loosened her hold on his arm until it slid down, resting overtop his hand so that she was also touching the picture. Only then did she realize that Draco's hands were trembling, shaking with an emotion that she could only imagine was fear. Pain. The loss of something he had not yet lost. Her hand tightened unconsciously.

"We have always been here, Draco," she muttered. "Before it all, this was always our destiny."

His fingers gripped onto the edges tightly, flexing around her grasp. "So there was no hope for something better? No chance of change?"

He knew the answer to that. There was no reason for her to answer. They come from the names of a Malfoy and an Erebus, two of the most well-known and easily-disliked names in the history of magic. It was their lineage that invoked darkness, intertwining with something else deep inside of their veins and scalding their Dark Marks with a blind flame. No, there was absolutely nothing that they could have done―and neither could figure out which was worse. If they could have done something, then they would spend their entire life wishing they had...but because they had no choice, did that give them any justification for what they were doing now? No. They supposed it didn't, but they would have to believe that it did, if only to survive.

"We grew up with no knowledge of hope and change. How were we meant to believe in anything better than this?"

He sucked in a deep breath, curling his hand around hers. "And now that we do?"

"Now it's too late."

―――――――――――――

December 18, 1996

Mia was stupid enough to believe that Snape would hold off on his interrogation of them. Both she and Draco had been avoiding him expertly, darting out of Defense class before he had the moment to speak to them and ignoring all of the notes he sent for a meeting. Snape was smart enough not to assign them detentions; any attention like that their way would just make their mission more difficult to hide. While it was difficult, they survived the glares their way and the looks of accusation. Since the incident with Katie Bell, they had hardened and intensified with a new kind of heat. She and Draco only hoped that it would hold off a bit longer, and that when the time came, they would be together to handle the argument.

She had been very tragically mistaken. Snape had caught her on her way out of his class that morning, which she had to bear without her counterpart after finding out that Draco slept in. Theodore wasn't much help either, giving her a worried frown as he glanced between her and their professor, before finally deciding that it was better to leave them to their own. That left Mia alone, still seated in her chair, with an erratic heartbeat and grinding teeth. She was sure he could hear it, but she didn't dare look his way in fear that he would try and use Legilimency on her.

"You have been avoiding me, Miss Erebus."

Mia looked at the glass case of different potions. "I wouldn't say that, professor...there have just been larger matters at hand than a conversation with you."

"Matters like Katie Bell?" he asked. She could hear the accusations laying heavy in his throat. "Yes, I suppose those matters do seem to carry a heavier weight."

"I had nothing to do with what happened to Bell, and I would appreciate it if you did not accuse me of such vile things, sir." Even Mia could sense the distance between her words and any kind of meaning. If there was one thing that she felt more than anything, it was the frustration rising in the pit of her stomach like an angry monster. "I don't know if you recall, but I was one of the students who found Bell in that state."

"Ah, yes. With Andrew Vaisey."

"Are we going to talk about the issue of distraction now, professor?" she asked coldly, her hands gripping tightly onto each other as she kept them steady in her lap. "Because I can assure you that Andrew Vaisey is the furthest thing from a distraction to me. My grades are stellar in every single course―as you know from my work in your class―and I have not veered away from my direction of success because of him or anyone else."

She could feel the stare darkening at her. "And how is your success favoring, Andromeda?"

"Spectacularly, sir."

"Is that so? Because it seems like you and Mister Malfoy haven't been sleeping much recently. He missed my class today because of it, did he not? Many of your housemates are very concerned for the two of you, and I can see that your health is a growing matter of importance. While your grades are, in fact, Outstanding, I'm afraid Draco's are beginning to slip in a majority of his classes. Professor Sinistra has brought up your collective absences more than once recently, and Professor McGonagall does not seem to enjoy the lack of motivation Draco has shown in her classroom."

Mia bit down hard on her tongue. "That sounds like other people's opinions, Professor Snape. I can assure you that myself and Draco are looking after ourselves and doing our very best to stay motivated."

"You are playing me to be the fool that I am not, Andromeda," Snape's words suddenly dropped down lower, and she could feel the heat of them. "You and Draco are far too arrogant for your own good."

"Really? Some people say my arrogance is endearing."

"It only shows that you are a child," he hissed. The slamming of a book onto the desk hollowed out the room, echoing on every dark wall. "I assumed that you were wiser than Draco, but I am beginning to fear the worst out of the two of you. The Dark Lord is already watching you closely, Andromeda, after that traitorous father of yours―"

That set her off, and she whipped her head around to glare at him. "Don't you dare talk to me about traitors, Snape, when you have been playing both sides of this war like a fiddle. Whatever manipulative allegiance you have proven to Dumbledore and to us, you are a traitor all the same. If you want to speak on my father's name, then consider your own first. I may be an arrogant child, but I am not stupid. Call yourself what you are, and I will call myself the same."

"You proved my point just then, Andromeda. You are showing me no signs of wisdom in this mission you have to the Dark Lord, and you expect me to believe otherwise? Only an idiot would make such a careless mistake like the one with Katie Bell, and the argument with Mister Potter in the middle of class―"

"Don't you dare bring him up!" she snarled, standing up from her seat now. He challenged her with a wicked look all the same. "You have hated Potter in spite of his father your entire life, and all for a woman who still chose James' arrogance over your treachery in the end. Don't you come to me about arguing with Potter when he is the very reason my father is dead! Lily Potter was nothing more to you than a blasted hallucination of what could never be."

Snape's eyes flared with an anger that she had never seen in him, and she knew that she hit him in the very heart of his most dangerous emotions. Mia heard stories from her parents about how in love Severus Snape had been with Lily Evans, and that so many in the Slytherin house opposed their friendship throughout Hogwarts. Lily would always be the one piece for him that provoked weakness, just like Theodore and Draco were to her. To see its truth reflect in the eyes of the man only burned her bitterness brighter. 

"I see this is the game you want to play," he said, and the dead of his voice sent a shiver down her spine. "If you will not show me the truth, then I must see it for myself. You and Draco are untrusted with this task at hand, and I do not wish to have the rest of us brought along this reckless path with you."

She bristled. "Coming from the most untrustworthy of us all."

He stared deeply into her eyes with the furiousness of a serpent, and Mia knew exactly what he was trying to do. The fire building in her chest finally snapped, and she did not break away from the eye contact as she glared at him in return. It was with such force that the band separating their two minds snapped and pulled each of them into a twisted image of the horrors that lived inside their memories. Scraping away at all of the corners they folded away because they were just too harmful to relive.

"Stop it!"

Immediately, she realized that she was in the mind of someone else. A young girl with bright, red hair was in front of her, and she could feel the adoration that soaked out of her professor's skin when he was around this girl. Warmth of its own degree stung her heart. Lily Evans. She was smiling at him, with bright green eyes that Mia had the misfortune of recognizing to be the exact same as Potter's. Of course. The familiarity between Potter and his mother was undeniable, where even though he must have got his father's unruly dark hair, he was a mere spitting imagine of everything that made his mother.

"Severus! Come on!" she grabbed his hand, and tugged him away. "There's a doe over here!"

The memory faded like a dim shadow, and she was sucked out of it and into another before she could break free from the contact. To her horror, she recognized it to be her own. Snape's attempt to use Legilimency had backfired on both of them, and now they were suffering through their deepest and darkest kept moments with no way of stopping the pain.

"She's gone."

The sobs that came from Theodore brought a shiver down her spine, and Mia wanted to retch at the mere sight of her cousin's younger self breaking down in front of her. She couldn't see his face, but the sobbing on her shoulder reminded her of this exact moment when she found out that her aunt had passed away from Dragon pox. Snape had no right to see this. A hot flare of pain seared throughout her body, causing her to twist the memory, pushing it down to the depths of herself until it was gone from her mind. 

Mia wanted out, she wanted out of this now, but it felt inescapable as she was sucked in again to another memory.

"Make the Unbreakable Vow."

Bellatrix Lestrange was staring with those cold, dark eyes of hers. Mia would have trembled at the sight, remembering all of the times the woman cursed her in the Malfoy manor...but this memory was not hers, and Snape was not afraid of Bella. She could not feel the familiar intimidation that the Lestrange woman always made Mia feel. To the side of the mad witch was Narcissa, Draco's mother already watching Snape when he turned to her. Her eyes, stricken with worry.

"Promise Cissy that you will protect Draco. Make the Unbreakable Vow."

There it was, the small ripple of fear in her mind. Snape was afraid. "And what of Alastiare's daughter?"

Too late. The memory was gone.

"It's over. He knows. They're dead. We're dead. It's all my fault."

Mia remembered this. It was in the library after she received the letter saying Dumbledore wanted to meet with her. The familiar feeling of fear bubbled in her chest from that day, but she was surprised at the expression on Draco's face. She had been too distressed in her own mind to realize it before. He was terrified, his eyes warm on her with a concern that she had never seen before. A look that she hadn't known he gave her.

"Would you stop it? Don't do that, Romy. You have no idea what this is about. He could just be checking up on you because of your father. Slughorn may have asked him about you. Don't forget what just happened in Snape's class. It could be anything."

"And if it's not?" The terror could not have hid itself in her words if she tried. "What do we do then? Go to Azkaban? Join your father, rotting in a cell for the rest of our lives? Or do you propose spending the rest of our lives running from the Ministry like dear Aunt Bella? I'd rather die."

A piercing sound in her ears made Mia cry out, and it was loud enough to break whatever twisted connection the Legilimency had just caused between the two of them. She stumbled back, falling into the back of a desk in the classroom. The persistent agony returned from the resistance, and she reached a hand up to clutch her head with a moan. From across the room, Snape had nearly crashed into his desk, gripping onto it tightly with stone cold, white hands. She set her eyes on him, daring him to look back as she glared heavily.

"You made an Unbreakable Vow."

He turned to look at her, still holding onto the table. "Are you truly surprised, Miss Erebus?"

"That's why you are so concerned with how we are doing," she breathed out in realization, her words more leveled than she expected. "Because it isn't just us that die if we mess up, you die along with us. Along with Draco...of course...it all makes sense now."

"And the two of you are making the task incredibly difficult with your negligence."

Mia's eyes narrowed on him. "Negligence? The Dark Lord gave us impossible missions. Missions that we are meant to fail in because of our fathers. Do you think we are walking around this place with the intention to fail and kill everyone we love? No. We do value our lives. We are doing everything we possibly can to complete these tasks, and your persistent efforts to get involved aren't helping us any."

"My persistent efforts could help you stay alive, Andromeda," he said, scowling at her. "If you would stop acting like only you and Mister Malfoy are intelligent enough to complete these tasks, perhaps they would actually be completed. You need my help."

She stared at him, coldly. "We don't want your help, Snape. Can't you understand that? We don't trust you. I don't trust you. If you think that you are the only one who made a vow to keep Draco alive, you are mistaken. I am more determined than I have ever been to finish these missions―for him and for my family. I know my fate in this, Snape. I have always known my end. I am dead whether I complete the missions or not, but Draco has every chance to survive this. I am doing this for him just as much as you are."

Snape's brows raised slightly in surprise, his annoyance changing to surprise for a brief second. Then, his eyes narrowed, watching her in a way that made her flinch from the last time he did so. It was only moments ago when that stare was the reason they exposed so many memories to one another. This time, Snape had no intent to go into her mind. He could see the surface of her thoughts without needing any magic. 

"I did not realize you cared so deeply for him." 

"You...didn't realize?" Mia looked taken aback for a moment, her eyes lighting in surprise. "I would have thought you'd catch on quickly that two dead-men-walking tend to cower in corners together, Snape. Draco is the only person that understands―the only one that carries this weight with me. When you only have a single soul to rely on, one person to keep all of your secrets, you tend to become just a bit close. There is no way I can complete the Dark Lord's mission without him. I would have given up months ago." 

His lips pulled down into a hint of a frown. "That is the very thing the Dark Lord feared, Andromeda. That you would become too close with Draco, and he with you...that you would fail the tasks because you and Draco are too much like your fathers. His intention was to test you and see how you favor under circumstances like this one. You are failing."

"Every waking moment reminds me that compassion is a dead man's compromise with life. No one needs to be worrying about whether or not I will fail my mission to the Dark Lord because I hold any degree of compassion for the other side like my father did..." Mia paused, her eyes losing their focus. Realization dawned on her like the black plague. She turned to Snape with a new, unforgettable look in her stare. "You asked about me before the Unbreakable Vow was administered―I was never meant to be included in it, was I? You did not make a Vow for my life. Because everyone has come to the same fate for me in this war, haven't they? That I will die. You did not want to be tethered to a cemented death...because there is hope for Draco, but none for me." 

Snape did not speak, and it made the bitterness burn the sides of her throat. His silence was answer in its own. All of the other Death Eaters, the Dark Lord, everyone had come to the unanimous conclusion that she was going to die. She was not fated to live in their world any longer than her father had. Perhaps that was why none of the others had gone for her neck because of Alastiare's traitorous move―they wanted to wait until she ended herself. Maybe they were waiting until Potter killed her, or someone in the Order that her father had been secondhandedly protecting through Black.

Finally, he turned to look at her directly. "The only reason the Dark Lord has hesitated in your death this long, Miss Erebus, is because he recognizes your hatred for your own self the same way he recognized his own...he sees that you are tethered to darkness the same way that he was..and he is only waiting to watch if you will fall into it or deny it like your father had."

Like your father had. 

Like your father had. 

Learn from the past, Andromeda. 

Choose the darkness. 

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

Author's Note: 

Heavy stuff, but this is definitely a very important chapter. A turning point for Andromeda as we get closer to the halfway point of this story. Mia interpreted her mother's warning about learning from the past as choosing the darkness, but do you think that was what Celicia meant? What do you think she meant? 

And do you believe that Mia is making the right choice by giving into the darkness―does she even have a choice?

ELEOS: GOD OF PITY AND MERCY