!!! TW: r*pe & torture
Please skip this chapter if it is triggering or sensitive. 💙

Andromeda, nicknamed 'the Chained Maiden', is one of the largest constellations in the sky, spanning an area of 722 square degrees. She was the daughter of the vain Queen Cassiopeia, and as punishment for her mother's narcissistic bragging, was chained to a rock as sacrificial offering to sea monster Cetus.

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She was on fire - she was certain of it. Her body was up in flames and she would be nothing but a black, charred skeleton in seconds. Except she wasn't dying.

"Where is Potter?!" A voice she thought might belong to Bellatrix asked for what felt like the tenth time, but her mind was hazy and her vision was long gone, and she couldn't be sure.

"I don't know," she cried, seeing sparks behind her lids. "I've told you, I don't know!"

Another shock of white hot pain coursed through her body. Like poison, it flowed through every fibre, every nerve, every blood vessel. She screamed until she thought her lungs were going to explode. Or maybe they already had, because she could no longer hear herself anymore.

"Oh, but you do know. I know you do," Bellatrix trilled. "WHY else would you try to stop us that night at the Tower?"

"Girl," another voice said, stoic but gentle. "Just tell us what you were doing in the forest, and you can go."

What had she been doing in the forest? It was to meet someone - someone very important to her - but she could not put a name or a face to it. How much time has passed since she arrived? Days? Weeks? She could no longer remember anything.

The Cruciatus Curse hit her once more, and this time, she no longer had the energy to scream anymore. She just wanted it all to be over.

Through the window above her, the stars were calm, twinkling in blissful ignorance to what was happening below. As she drifted in and out of consciousness, they seemed to form a face. No, two faces now. They smiled, and she knew them. Their names were Jacob and Grace Dawson.

I'm so tired, dad... She looked at them, praying they would hear her. Please take me home with you... I'm so tired...

Nothing happened. She was trapped in purgatory, treading the edge of the knife between life and death.

The little white dots seemed to be forming a third face now, just below her parents'. It was a boy. Unlike her parents, his mouth was downturned, and his large, woeful eyes looked down to her with regret.

Draco. That was who she had been on her way to see.

Her body contorted as the Curse hit her over and over, but Bellatrix's shouting had become inaudible, as if she had hit the 'mute' button on the telly. She could only focus Draco now. She felt her heart calling out to him. What's wrong, Draco? You can tell me anything.

"Alright, that's enough."

A careless laughter echoed in the background. "Fine. We'll use her as bait, then. Itty bitty Potter can't stand the thought of his friends in danger. Yaxley, she's all yours! Take her to the cellar when you're finished."

"Bella, I think-"

"See, that's the problem with you, Cissy. You think too much." The voices faded off before finally dying down.

Someone tugged at her waist. The cold tiles seared like fire against her bare bottoms and legs. Unfamiliar hands scraped at her skin, roaming her body, touching her where she did not want to be touched. They cut like river rocks, but the sting from the curses before had dulled the pain.

Wait. Wait. She belonged to herself, and herself only. They would not take that away from her. "No..." she summoned all her strength to say. Then, louder - "No!" But it was nothing but a hoarse whisper. Her hands fought and her legs kicked, but they were like parchment in water. He was stronger, more determined. Something wedged in between her thighs.

Unlike Draco, he was cold and unfeeling. He ravaged her, like a beast tearing into the flesh of its prey, his lips curled back with fervoured animalistic grunting.

She tried to cry. Perhaps releasing her hurt might make it more bearable. But as much as she tried, there was not an ounce of strength left in her body to spare even that. And so, she kept her eyes heavenward. Polaris shone in Draco's right pupil. That's the way home, her father had told her.

At last, the motions stopped. The air was cold against her skin. She felt her body sliding across the floor, and the boy in the stars watched her go sadly. He disappeared from her view and darkness finally enveloped her.

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Her screams had died down long ago, but they echoed, on and on in his head. And it was the silence now that suffocated him. Was she dead? Driven into a mad muteness, mouth hanging open like some of the patients at St Mungo's?

The doorknob rattled, and he bolted up. "What did you do to her?" He had never hated his mother more than now.

"Quiet! You'll wake everyone," she hissed into the darkness. "She's alive, if you must know. They've put her in the cellar." A wave of relief rushed over him, and he allowed himself to breathe.

Narcissa regarded him carefully, before stating coldly- "But the next time you pull a stunt like that, she will be nothing but a pile of ashes and you'll only have yourself to blame."

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Draco finally saw his chance the next night. Someone had tipped them off on what could be Potter's location, and they had gone to investigate. The house was empty, save for the usual two guards  at the gates.

He passed the bedroom corridors warily, holding his wand out to the darkness in case he was wrong about him being home alone. After making sure the drawing rooms and main hall were clear, he flew down the stairs and to the cellar.

The barred gates flung open at his command and he stumbled into the dampness, calling her name.

A figure sat huddled alone in the corner. His wand clattered to the floor when he realised that it was indeed Angel.

He knelt down and reached for her, but she flinched away, her dark eyes chasms of black; wide and filled with terror.

"Angel, it's me. Draco," he said, confused. The air was musty and humid down here, but she was shivering as if she had just gone swimming in the Black Lake in the middle of winter.

"She's still in shock. She hasn't said a thing since last night." Luna emerged from the other corner, looking worse for wear.

"Luna! Luna, what have they done to her?"

"The torture curse. They were at it for hours. I could hear." She paused, as if considering her next words with great deliberation. "Her jeans... they were around her ankles when they threw her in."

His face fell when he realised what she meant. No. Not his girl. Not Angel. He would have rather died. Anger flared within him, greater than he had ever known.

"Who? Who was it?"

Luna looked at him oddly, as if surprised he cared. "I can't be sure. It could have been Yaxley."

"I'm going to kill him." There was an unsteadiness in his voice, but he was not going to cry. Not now, in front of Luna.

"Luna, this is all my fault. I told her I needed help. I was going to sneak her in so the two of you can Apparate out of here, but I made a mistake, and..." his voice trailed off. Saying it out loud now, he realised how truly stupid and flimsy his plan had been.

"That was very bold and ambitious of you," Luna observed kindly.

"Listen, Luna, I'm going to get you out of here. Just give me some time to think."

"It's alright, Malfoy," said Luna, placing a hand on his shoulder gently. "I think it's best we didn't risk any more lives tonight. Besides, we've already tried everything." She gestured to the back, and it was only then he saw that Ollivander and Griphook the Goblin were here too.

"No, we have to do it tonight," he insisted. "Barely anyone's home, and if we're careful, we could go right now."

"I don't think she's well enough," cautioned Luna. "If we don't do it properly, she might get splinched."

They both turned back at Angel resignedly. She had buried her face into her knees, mute - just as he had feared.

Slowly, he lowered himself onto his knees in front of her, and she cast her eyes away from him. "Angel... my darling..." he said, as softly as he could. "I'm not going to hurt you."

His hand inched towards hers. It was ice cold, as it had always been. This time, she did not resist. Luna smiled in understanding as she retreated back into the warm corner.

His thumb caressed the back of her palms, just as she had done for him once all those nights ago. "Angel, can you hear me?" She was staring into the distance again, a dazed and frightened look in her eyes.

"Well, I'm Draco Malfoy," he began, almost in a whisper. "We... we met on the train in our very first year. You asked if the seat was taken, and I said it was, even though it wasn't. I still regret that to this day." He paused, not entirely sure where he was going with this.

"W- we got sorted into different houses, then. You're in Hufflepuff and I'm in Slytherin. You're friends with Hannah, Susan, Ernie, Zach... Cedric. D'you remember them? You were always... so kind to me, and in return, I pushed you. A lot. I never noticed you, but you always noticed me." She remained expressionless, but her eyes moved as if she was thinking about something.

"Well, we only ever really became friends when we both met in the Astronomy Tower that first night. We spent a lot of time there. You told me about your world. Your family, your life, your friends... the galaxy... And eventually, I told you about mine. I- I was really lost back then." He brought her limp hand to his cheek, warming it.

"You were grieving, but you still listened to me... and I don't know why, but when you talked with me, I just wanted you to be nothing but happy. And then remember when I tried to buy you an apple strudel from Madam Puddifoots? Pansy thought it was meant for her and ate it all. I was so annoyed, you wouldn't believe!"

He snuck a peek at her, searching for any trace of recollection on her face. Her gaze flickered over his face briefly before darting away again. He knew she was listening, so he carried on, saying whatever came to his mind.

"I still remember the exact moment I fell in love with you. It was a Tuesday night, and we were on the deck in the Astronomy Tower. You had stolen some fruit and whiskey from the kitchens, said I needed to eat." He chuckled softly at the memory before noticing that she was crying, the teardrops darkening the earth they sat on. He did not want to stop. He was reminding himself too.

"You were wearing this... disgustingly soft, white jumper. I wanted to kiss you then, but I didn't. The night I finally did, though, I suddenly... didn't feel so lost anymore.

"You brought me home once, and we danced to Michael Bublé - you know Michael Bublé. And then, I took you to see the secret Thestrals. And- and remember how I made the stars dance? You know, when I saw you standing there in that dress that night... right there. That was when I knew I wanted to marry you."

Angel turned to look at him then. The cloudiness had faded from her eyes, and his heart leapt in small rejoice. She leaned into him as her body gave way to heaving sobs.

"Oh, my love.... my Angel," he whispered into her hair, rocking her gently. "I'm so... so sorry for bringing you here. But I'm with you now, and you're with me. Okay?"

He tucked the strands behind her ears and stroked her head. His strong, beautiful girl - they had absolutely destroyed her, dismantled and taken her apart brick by brick. And it had all been his fault.

He held her the whole night, humming softly as he cradled her to sleep. Now, he was more determined than ever to get them out.