◤ ❝What a beautiful ending we could have been.❞ ― Alastaire Erebus ◢

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CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN: CLOTHO

June 17, 1996 (1 Day Before)

"You're hovering."

Celicia Erebus flinched at the sound of her husband's voice, having fallen so far deep into a trance watching him at his desk that he startled her back to reality. His green eyes were looking back at her when she focused on his face, his pale complexion an indication of how ill he'd grown in the last few months. With the report in the Quibbler that came out from Potter about those he witnessed with The Dark Lord...there was no lack of concern in the Erebus family. Celicia for her husband, and Alastaire for his daughter―who had to face the wrath of hundreds of students that now knew her father was a Death Eater. How could she ever look him in the eye when she returned home for the summer? The only solace he had was knowing she had her cousin.

Her worried eyes burned against his flesh. "You haven't eaten in days, Alastiare, and the last time you properly slept was weeks ago...it will not matter what happens next if you allow yourself to rot from the inside out first. You must keep yourself well if―"

"―Celicia," he interrupted, sighing in exhaustion and laying his quill down. "I have already begun rotting from the inside out. The effects of this are only just catching up to the outside perception of me, as well."

There was a deafening silence shared between the married pair. Celicia knew that her husband's mental state had been tried worse this time around than before. They didn't have a daughter before. Alastiare hadn't known sacrifice to the degree he would give for Andromeda―but now he knew, and that in itself was enough to rot him from the inside out, knowing what he'd put his daughter through because he chose the wrong side. There was nothing he could do now for himself, but he could surely still fight for them. He could block his mind from his Lord, pretend he was loyal, and pray that the ending of the story would favor his daughter and wife's lives better than his own.

"You promised me you wouldn't give up."

His jaw clenched, but he kept his eyes focused on the ground ahead of him. "You call it giving up but it is the complete opposite, Cece. I've made my peace and decided my fate. That is not defeat, that is acceptance. This journey...has brought nothing but sorrow and grief to those I love most. I infect others as deeply as his Mark does, and it is more than just a poison to my own soul but to yours as well―to Andromeda's―to your family...it is my family's dues that must be paid with Death, and He hovers around every corner."

Celicia's eyes widened at him. "You choose to put your life to a children's book?"

"I put my life to history," he corrected calmly, noticing that his wife's patience was wearing thin for him. So was her composure. He knew every move she made, and every tear threatening to fall. "Not one person in my family has lived to tell the tale of a long life, Cece. You know that my lineage is written in blood. Each of us has been cut off, sacrificed to Death to pay our dues. We were not one of the tales that cheated Him twice. I was granted my first pass when I joined the Dark Lord all those years ago, and now I am paying my price. That does not mean you and Andromeda must pay the same as me."

"You continue to say this...'you and Andromeda'...what do you think your death will do in the end? We've discussed this before, Alastiare. No letter is going to fill that emptiness for her. She has already changed as a result of your coldness. You may think it be for the best―pushing her away, pushing me away―but that does not dull our love for you. All it does is hurt."

"I do so in hopes that it will hurt less when I am gone."

"So you truly have decided then."

Alastiare and Celicia stared at one another, a ways across the large room, the books providing company against the echo felt in their hearts. For a moment, they were just children―seventeen years old once again, and the talk of the First Wizarding War was hot on everyone's tongue. Celicia remembered the pressure that he felt to join from Eldrice Nott and Lucius Malfoy, just as she could tell you every detail of the painful arguments he had with Sirius not long after. I see what brother you have chosen, Sirius had said. Alastiare was still full of life then. Draining, dripping, messily and painfully every step led closer to the Dark Lord. Now, there was nothing left inside of him. Nothing left at all.

It was the memory of the life that once lived inside of her husband that brought forth the burning sensation of tears in her throat. A funeral for all of the pieces of him she'd lost along the way, only to have him bury himself in the end. No amount of fight she produced would deter him. She'd been trying for months, unsuccessfully, but his mind was made up. She stared at the love of her life and tried to figure out when would be the time she finally said goodbye.

"We were seventeen when I first told you how I felt about you. Do you remember?"

Alastiare's heart could be seen shattering ahead of her own. "Of course I do."

"I said I would love you always...through every fault and every flaw you showed me along the way...through every pain you put me through....I loved you from the moment I met you, Alastiare, but I always knew...I always knew you'd take my heart and I would never see it again," she answered pitifully, her words breaking up under the pressure of her tears. "And now you tell me you are going to take it away for good, and all I feel is this emptiness growing inside of my chest knowing I'll never see you again...and you ask me to accept that..."

"I never asked for your acceptance, Cece...all I ask is that you continue holding my heart in return."

"While mine dies with you. While Mia's turns cold―"

His words were thick in his throat as he glanced down at his desk, the picture of baby Mia with Sirius in a frame that had been thrown at every wall in his office more than once. He'd tried ripping it, burning it, but never once was it destroyed. Celicia had placed a spell on it, of course. He appreciated that now. He could see the man holding his entire life. Sirius would be the reason Mia received a better life―a second chance. He was sure of it. He had to be.

"―she has a heart like yours, Cece," he muttered softly, his tearful eyes catching with adoration on his little girl. "One built to understand and empathize, to love and not destroy...she will battle this pain because she has your strength. I must believe in that...but she deserves a life that is not led by my mistakes. I want her free of my burdens―my pain―and this is the only way. You hold the largest piece of my heart and that will follow with you until we meet again, my love, but for now...I must give the rest of me away knowing that Andromeda will shine brighter without me...my littlest star..."

Alastiare Erebus looked up at his beautiful wife, the woman he had loved since he was eleven years old, the witch brighter than anyone else in their year but modest enough to hide it away from the world—and he finally understood what it meant to see what you loved most before death. He could see it all clearly―it was, after all, what he was sacrificing himself for. A love greater than himself.

"What a beautiful ending we could have been."

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May 10, 1997

"What does it say?" came out of Draco's mouth first, ever the impatient one, growing concerned at the silence from Andromeda. He didn't have the strength to push himself out of the chair without being in pain, but if the silence continued, he'd do his damndest in order to find out what was wrong. "Romy."

Andrew's hand fell comfortingly on Theo's knee, nudging him softly.

"Our mothers were only half-sisters," Theodore began painstakingly slow. His brows furrowed on the pages. Then he cleared his throat, glancing over at Mia whose eyes were still latched onto the Erebus family tree. "Mia..."

"I, um...just..."

The stuttering, perplexed words from Andromeda were the best indication of how her mind was failing to process the new information. Theodore looked up in concern when she stood and darted around the couch quickly, her schoolbag nearly taking out Andrew on the way. Rather than getting up and following after her, Theo diverted his eyes over to Draco, who broke contact from Mia for a split second to catch Theo's stare. Draco nodded quickly and pushed himself up off the chair with a wince, ignoring the pain as much as he could by rushing his way out of the common room where she was disappearing.

While Andrew stood up and moved in the spot where Mia was to comfort Theo, Draco thanked Merlin that he was taller than Romy because even injured he was able to catch up to her rather quickly after a few curses in pain. He was surprised that she didn't immediately race up the steps to the seventh floor like usual, but made a hard turn out of the castle to get to the courtyard near the hill outlining the Black Lake. She finally stopped to his relief just outside, and he paused in concern when Mia grabbed a hold of the side of the castle and curled down like she was going to vomit.

"Romy," he called out, his footsteps working much faster than before until he was in front of her. He grabbed her hair and pulled it back to get a better view of her face, and instantly brown panicked eyes stared back at him. He took another step forward, grabbing one of her arms. "Mia, are you all right―Mia―Romy, you look like you're going to pass out―"

She shook her head and pressed a hand heavily to her chest, managing to muffle out through heaving gasps for him to know what was happening, "having a...panic attack..." only to feel dizzy and scuffle down the side of the wall with one hand. The wave of nausea returned just the same as last time, but she tried her best to ignore it by curling her knees tightly to her chest. Mia could feel Draco slide down next to her, his eyes burning in gut wrenching concern on her.

"What do you need me to do?" he asked, hesitant to lay a hand on her given how much she was trembling. "Can I...do I need to help you breathe? Or get your mind off it? What―"

She shook her head, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the wall, trying to swallow down the pit in her stomach growing the longer she sat there. Draco felt helpless. He knew what she was going through, from back in the bathroom, but she'd been there immediately to calm him down. Mia always knew what to do. He didn't know. When she went to quickly take off the sweater she was wearing, he helped her get it past her head. Just when he felt a pit of despair that he was doing absolutely nothing for her and should get Theodore instead, he stopped second-guessing himself and decided to do what she had done for him.

"I'm right here, Romy," he assured softly, turning his body in her direction. "I won't let anything bad happen to you, I promise. You're safe. I'm here."

He wasn't entirely sure how many times he repeated those words. Every so often, her breath would hitch like she'd forgotten how to breathe all over again, and another spike of concern would run through his entire body. He had to send a few deathly scowls in the direction of students that even attempted to walk their way, trying his best to keep her out of the public eye, knowing how she'd react to someone seeing her in such a state. What could have been ten or fifteen minutes later, her chest no longer labored and her breaths steadied slowly until they were a soft sound in the wind. She finally lifted her head after having ducked it down and looked his way.

Draco let out an exaggerated huff of air, tilting his head slightly to give her a look. Mia ran her hand through her hair, messy now and sweaty from the chills she'd had, and then she gave him a blank-slated stare in reply. When he inspected every inch of her face to make sure she was better, he finally spoke. "I'd much rather it have been me."

"That's funny," she muttered, still trying to catch her breath, leaning her head back against the castle wall. "I was just about to say the same thing."

"What happened?"

Mia frowned, staring up at the cloudy sky, realizing that they were close to where the Astronomy Tower was. Just above them, it looked like. Then she moved her head to look at the bag she'd dropped somewhere. When she saw it a few inches away, she leaned over, tugging it to her body and grabbing what she'd shoved into it. Handing Draco the family tree with the Erebus side showing, she waited for his reaction with the remnants of before still tugging at her chest.

Draco's eyes traced up from her name slowly, paying attention to every name as they passed and realizing that so many of them were deceased now. Almost all of them, if he were being honest. She had an elder grandmother but he'd never heard of her, which meant she wasn't close with Mia. Then, finally, he got to what she was waiting for.

"Antioch Peverell?" he asked in disbelief, staring down at the name like it was a crime to be written down.

"I suspect you read the Tale of the Three Brothers growing up."

Draco paused, and then his eyes dulled knowing where she was headed with things. "No. We are not doing this, Andromeda―"

"―you know as well as I do that those tales are not a work of fiction―"

"―they're a children's book, Romy," he retorted back quickly, their words hushed but working fast against the other's rebuttal. "A fairy tale. There has never been any proof that the Deathly Hallows even exist, much less that the Peverell's were even who the tale was written about. It could be as much about morals―"

"―morals? Really, Draco?"

"It makes more sense than you thinking Death killed your ancestor!" he paused when he saw someone pass by them, looking at them momentarily like they were insane. It was a fourth year, Ravenclaw. Irrelevant. He gathered himself, rubbing his hand down his face in exasperation. "This is just you reaching to support your insane theory that you are destined to die, and I will have none of it."

She looked at him like he was crazy, her eyes widening. "Insane theory? Nearly everyone on that damned family tree is dead, Draco."

"Not you. It won't be you."

Mia's eyes softened on him. "Draco."

"You need to read your father's letter, Mia." The statement created a barrier between the two of them almost immediately with the way that Andromeda recoiled at his words. He noticed, but continued despite it. "You can't keep cutting corners to avoid him anymore. We're too close to the end here―what if whatever is said in that letter could help us? What if it explains your family tree? You have to stop avoiding what you don't want to know. It does nothing but extend the unknown."

Mia knew that he was right. She could already feel the nausea resurface knowing that she was going to have to get over her worries of reading the letter eventually. Draco waited patiently for her response, seeing the crease in her forehead that told him her thoughts were running a mile a minute. The soft current from the Black Lake was creating a gust of cold air, and the lack of sun was only setting the tone toward how Mia and Draco's tumultuous path was headed. Finally, Mia turned her eyes away from the water and back to him.

"You know why I can't," she said quietly.

Draco could see that she was trying to explain it to him without so many words. He knew what she'd said in the past. She didn't want what the letter said to be an excuse for her father's actions, and he understood that, but he also knew that it was so much more than that. Draco recognized the defeated expression on Romy's face when she said those words because he felt them all the same―it was acceptance that they had no other option―they could not be given a second one because they feared they may choose the wrong one. He opened his mind to her, and they met eyes, allowing for her to say those words through a connection between them that fell on deaf ears.

What if what I read in that letter changes what we must do?

Draco paused, the thought projected into his mind weighing heavier. Mia turned to look back at the water, peaceful and dangerous all the same, while Draco moved until he was seated shoulder-to-shoulder with her, watching as well. Neither one of them said anything for a while. They could hear the sound of students in the distance, and see some passing by on the wooden bridge to get dinner.

"I'll see this to the very end with you," Mia finally said, breaking the silence between them. She could feel Draco's eyes on the side of her face, but she didn't look away. "I can't promise when I'll look at that letter, or if I truly believe that I'm not cursed by some ludicrous fairy tale because that's entirely within my realm of terrible luck but..."

She pursed her lips to one side, trying her hardest not to get emotional.

"But?"

"I won't give up on me...because I know that means I've given up on us―and I believe in us."

Another pause was in the air as Draco thought over her words. Then, Mia was surprised when his hand came out and turned her face in his direction. When he didn't instantly kiss her, she looked at him, their faces only centimeters apart to where the slightest twitch in their lips would make them touch. His grey eyes warmed upon her brown ones, a color he'd come to declare his favorite with ever small speckle and hue in them.

"I believe in us too," he muttered back softly, the words pressing against her lips as he said them.

She smiled knowingly and kissed him without warning, ending the little space. Draco grabbed the side of her face, his fingers getting caught in her tangled mess of tendrils with his ring, but she didn't care. Draco, who loved any form of personal display of affection in public, and Mia, who would rather drown herself in the Black Lake than do so―but perhaps the whole 'relationship' thing they were trying had to deal with compromise. Then, Mia pulled away to Draco's protest, and she quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Don't get all soft on me, Malfoy."

"Speak for yourself, Erebus."

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June 3, 1997 (27 Days Before)

"Normally I wouldn't complain about your unusual level of clinginess, but knowing that it is for reasons other than my charming appeal, stop hovering, Romy. It's been a month."

Once again, the two of them were settled in the Room of Requirements. Draco was standing on the far left side of the Cabinet, and her on the right, the two of them going through the list of spells for their new approach of healing the Cabinet. So far? Not much had happened. They felt more optimist than they had before with the reparation spells, but now it was only a matter of finding the right one. They just hoped it didn't take too long, otherwise they would be as dead as the bird Draco sacrificed last night testing the Cabinet's efficiency. Clearly not efficient enough, was the answer there.

She also still hadn't opened her father's letter but that was a stern scolding from Draco for another day in her hopeful, distant future. Despite the fact that class would be ending at the end of the month, and both of them might actually be dead if they don't finish the Cabinet. So, to combat those worries, Mia decided that she would divert her pessimistic concern on something else.

"Oh, I apologize for being concerned about your well-being after seeing Potter slice you to bits right before my very eyes. Next time I'll leave you to drown in your own blood on the bathroom flo―"

Mia was interrupted of her snarky comment when Draco suddenly appeared in front of her, kissing her unannounced to stop whatever remark was coming out next. He knew by now that whatever it was wouldn't be kind. Her shoulders relaxed immediately and she kissed him back, ignoring the urge to roll her eyes when she felt the smirk tugging on his lips. Draco remained his usual habit of a hand going for her jaw, holding her in place and paying close attention to her bottom lip.

Then she grabbed a fistful of his polo, bringing him in closer to her, and had it been anyone else kissing Draco, they wouldn't have noticed. Mia did. A twitch of his mouth and the muffled grunt made her pull away from him, her hand dropping from his shirt but hovering over his chest nonetheless. The moment was broken up between them. She went to press her fingertips softly along his covered chest where she knew the largest scar was healing while he sighed heavily in defeat.

"Romy," he started knowingly, grabbing her wrist. "You need to let your wounds from that day heal too."

"You wouldn't be saying that if you were the one in my position," she disagreed, clenching her jaw and reluctantly dropping her arm from him. "Every corner I turn, I see him and his face reminds me of what he did to you―the fury that I felt rushes back again, and I..."

When she trailed off in her own world, Draco's hands reached up to grab her face on either side, forcing her to look up at him. If she were stubborn enough, she would have resisted, but she allowed him to with a bitter scowl growing. The expression only made a smile ghost over his lips. He'd known already that she would react in such a way. The humor was not disguised in his grey eyes because she noticed it, reading his silent emotions just as well as any other.

"This isn't funny."

"I never said it was."

"Your eyes don't lie to me."

"Neither do my lips."

"They lie as much now as they ever have, but your attempt to be witty and charming was not missed," she said, unable to hide the amusement lighting up in her eyes now. He noticed it as well, a swell of happiness that he'd been able to change her mood. She paused. "You're distracting me."

"People do say I'm quite distracting―"

"Draco."

He sighed, his demeanor falling lax. "I don't find a need to settle deeper into something that I barely recall, Romy. All I know is that Saint Potter will get what is coming to him at the end of the day, and I sleep best at night knowing he lives in fear of you as he rightfully should. What more is there to talk about? My wounds are healing. I've accepted that they'll never be gone, and I'll have hideous scars as grotesque as Snape's face―"

"Open your shirt."

Draco's eyes lit in surprise, caught off guard by her abrasive comment. "Pardon?"

"Open your shirt," she repeated, and when a certain look lit smugly across his face, she narrowed her eyes at him. "Not like that and you know it."

"Well the implications were unclear..."

Draco did so nonetheless. Had it been anyone else but her, he would have refused. In the past, he would have no problem showing off his figure. It wasn't defined or cut as much as other Quidditch players, but he was proud of his physique enough to bask in the attention of showing it off. That was before this year. Now, he slowly unbuttoned his polo until his porcelain skin was showing all. He sucked in a deep breath when her warm hands reached out to pull the rest of the white polo down until it dropped completely. So Draco stood there with all of his scars on full display.

She frowned instantly. So many small scars were displayed along his body, still red and raised from the healing process, but nowhere near as painful to look at as before. Mia let her index finger trace the ones on his left shoulder down to his side. For some reason, his left side had been injured more than the right. Not even Pomfrey could explain, although her horror never left until Draco was no longer dripping blood on her hospital floor. Mia didn't see them as hideous. Not any different than the birth mark on his right bicep or the callouses on his fingers from Quidditch.

Draco watched her as she inspected him. Never once did her eyes flicker to disgust over his scars. The brown color he adored so much showed pain, but never did it become anything less than that. Goosebumps were appearing on his skin when she continued to trace her soft touch along the ugly reminder of what happened. She did pause when she got to his left arm. He didn't look away from her once. He knew her mind went back to what she'd done for him―how she'd sacrificed for him. The Mark was back to its glooming glory, all cast of it gone from Theodore, but the trauma still remained.

Mia looked up finally and fell under the warm gaze of Draco. A look she'd not seen before was shadowing his grey to a darker hue, but she didn't dare speak on it. Instead, she watched as that color flickered down briefly to the white polo that she was wearing as well. His fingers reached out and started at the first button near her neck. He didn't say anything when she sucked in a breath, only looked up at her and saw the confirmation in her eyes. That gave him permission to continue down the track of her shirt, button by button, until more of her skin was exposed to him.

He pushed the clothing off her shoulders the same way she did him, and then he was able to see every inch of her like she had him. She watched him that time as his fingers traced her soft skin, running along her right arm, to just underneath her bra where her ribs lay, across until he found her left arm. The gentleness of his touch never stopped even when he reached her Mark. The color was dark as ever, moving against her skin, but he didn't focus on it too long. He continued down until he reached her wrist, taking it fully in his hand and turning it palm-up. The scar she'd received from the Dark Lord was there, still raised but faded more than his were.

Then, he let her wrist fall slowly back down to her side and returned to her awaiting eyes―and while it was never spoken, something to their connection with one another had just become sealed. The mental scars they shared every moment of every day, but the physical ones were more personal. More sacred, more intimate. Mia did not run away after seeing his scars. She showed him her own. That meant a degree more than either of them could ever explain.

Draco's hand raised up again and found a place on her face, his thumb rubbing along her cheekbone. Words felt demeaning to the connection, but he couldn't help it. "Romy..."

An understanding graced her lips, already knowing. "I know."

He nodded, and then his eyes fell on her pink lips, finding the sight to be the most beautiful thing in the world. He'd thought that for a while, but now he could do something about it. So he leaned forward and kissed her unafraid, finding relief when the space between their flesh was gone and he could feel the warm from her skin against every painful scar. Mia was quick to kiss him back, thankful when Draco's other hand went to grip onto her hip tightly, backing her up until she was flush against the Cabinet. The thought amused her enough for her to break the kiss for a moment, unsurprised when Draco immediately started to press open-mouthed, wet marks down her neck and to her chest.

"Perhaps somewhere other than what is already broken enough?"

He scoffed against her skin and pulled back momentarily to look at her, his eyes blown and hooded with lust, but full of affection for her nonetheless. "Not much more harm we can do to it now."

"I loathe you."

"It looks quite different from here," he disagreed, grinning at her and going to kiss her again. Then he paused, pulling away too quickly for her liking to give her a scowl. "If you say one bloody fucking thing about this hurting me, I may actually go drown myself in the Black Lake―"

She interrupted him by kissing him abruptly, trailing down to the corner of his lips, and then to his cheek, her words coming out as she did so. "Would you quit talking so much?"

"What, you don't like dirty talk in―ow, Romy―"

"―you said it didn't hurt you―"

"―it does when you bite my lip―"

Before the banter could continue any further, their lips connected again and stopped their usual bickering. The cold ring on Draco's finger ended up touching her warm skin and sending a shock through her body, surprising her enough that he took his opportunity to let his tongue slip into her mouth without any protest from her. Mia could feel her heartbeat thumping loudly in her ears, warming up along with her entire body and ringing like she'd never felt before. Not that Draco wasn't experiencing all of that and more, every thought in his mind clouded by the realization that whatever gut-wrenching feeling in his stomach was more than anything he'd felt for someone before.

When Draco pulled away for a moment, he was out of breath, his hand going down to take a fistful of her school skirt in his hands. "Gonna need you to say whether you want this or―" before he could continue the question, Mia captured her lips in his once again, fingers tangling in his messy blonde hair in the process.

"You still need an answer?"

Draco got her back for that comment very quickly. If you were to ask either of them back in July if they'd expected to end up exactly where everyone assumed they were, they'd likely laugh in your face. Things had changed. Now, there was no one in the world that knew every hidden pain to Draco Malfoy as well as Andromeda Erebus did. No one knew the extent of the love Andromeda Erebus had to give like Draco Malfoy did either.

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Author's Note:

Heeeeeeyooooo. Happy New Years Eve by the way. I figured this might be a good way to end the year for some of you (or start a new one depending on when you're reading this, Happy New Year!)

So the scene between Cece and Alastiare was actually their last goodbye. The past is finally starting to mesh with the present, and there's only 1 day left in the 'past story' until Alastiare's death (which is the count-down). I have loved writing them every step of the way and showing the differences of the way Mia is in the present to the way things happened in the past.

This was a SUPER Draco and Romy oriented chapter in a different way than usual. Normally it's casual in passing but both moments in this chapter were very important for them. I hope you enjoyed it! To those who are unsure, yes they did have sex―no, I do not write explicit context or smut for any of my characters that are underage. Please respect that.

Without much else to say, let me know what you thought!! I have appreciated all of your comments. I work hard to get these chapters out to you all as fast as possible and going through the comments helps motivate me to continue. Let me know what you think is going to happen at the end. I'd love to hear your ideas.

All love.

CLOTHO: One of the Three Fates, spins the thread of human life with the power to choose who is born or put to death.