In Greek mythology, ambrosia is the food or drink of the Greek gods, often described as a 'nectar'. It was thought to bring long life and immortality to anyone who consumed it.

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a m o r a

The tray rattled with each step I took up the stairs. On it was bowl of porridge, a spoon to scoop it with, and an apple. A prisoners meal. There was also a large glass of water that swirled with a pearly sheen. It smelt strongly of wild grass, cedarwood, and cold metal.

I knocked the door, more out of politeness than to ask for permission to enter. She sat hunched on the bed, knees wrapped in her arms. The shackles on her ankles clanked as she turned.

"Dinner," I said softly.

"Mm. Thank you," she murmured.

She had only been surviving on tiny sips of water for the past two weeks. Her cheeks had become gaunt; her lips beginning to blister. The knobs of her spine poked through skin like the ridges on a dragon's back, and my index and thumb could wrap around her wrists fully. I knew this because three days ago, she had tried to take my wand, but her movements were sluggish, and I caught her hand easily.

She eyed the water as I set the tray down. Her first glass was still full. "You have to drink," I said, forcing any trace of emotion to the back of my tongue. 

"No."

Oh, for the love of Rowena. As much as I wanted to wring her throat right now, my heart wrenched. No matter how hard I tried, I could not suppress the pity I felt every time I saw her. "Angel, think of the baby," I urged, lowering myself onto the foot of the mattress. "It's the only thing you have of Draco's now. You have to take care of it."

"Why? So you can kill it?" She lifted her head to meet my gaze. "And you have no right to speak his name to me." It was meant to be a retort, but the words came out as a hoarse whisper. I had opened my mouth before I could think of what to respond, and it hung open rather stupidly now.

In my silence, she turned away again. Tiny crystal balls of tears fell from her red-rimmed eyes, her wet lashes clumping heavily. I fought the urge to touch her hands, my voice stiff as I spoke: "What can I do to make you feel better here?"

"Just let me go. Please."

"I can't do that," I said, reluctantly. "Mr Malfoy will punish me."

"Then bring me something without the potion in it," she begged. "Please, Amora."

"I- I can't do that either."

She began to sob. I looked at her trembling body, thinking of anything else I could do for her, but there was nothing. She cried into the nook of her arms as I silently collected the empty bowl and old glass of water.

On the way down, I emptied its contents into one of the potted plants in the hallway.

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It was the next afternoon, when I was sitting at the dining table having lunch with Lilith, Erebus, and the others, that Codrus stormed in. He was shouting incoherently, something about the stupid cunt.

"AMORA!" Rage carried his voice across the hall. "She was supposed to drink the water."

I did not look up from my plate. "Has she not?"

"Well, I don't hear her begging to fuck me, if that's what you're asking!" he roared.

"Maybe if you stopped shouting for two seconds, you'd be able to," I responded calmly. Codrus only chuckled. "Fine," he said, a wicked glint in his eye. "If you won't make her, I will."

"Wait." I set down my bread and butter, the sound of silverware against ceramic deafeningly loud in the silence. "I'll go. Can't have you hurting the baby in your uncontrollable fits." I pushed past him as hard as I dared, and started my long ascend up the stairs.

Angel was lying on her bed, unmoving. Finger marks bloomed pink over her pale skin. For a moment, I feared she was dead, but as I closed the distance, I saw the slow rise and fall of her chest and let out a sigh of relief. 

My fingers brushed her sore arm as I sat down beside her. She twitched slightly, but could not gather the strength to move away. "Angel, you have to drink the water, or you and the baby will die," I warned.

She stared at the ceiling, refusing to speak. I wanted to shake her, to tell her that if she did not drink it, Codrus would make her regret it. "Angel-"

"I'd rather die."

"No," I insisted. "You really wouldn't."

"I already did once. What's another time?"

I heaved another great sigh. Why was she being so difficult? She was hardly in a position to negotiate. Follow orders and you will not get killed. Was this not common sense? Did she think Lucius or Codrus were playing around? Because they certainly were not.

I thought of Codrus downstairs, feral with anger, and of Lucius, who had placed complete faith in me to do things right. I had to make her drink the water, somehow.

I left once more, running about the other rooms on the floor, scouring for items. I fetched a bucket, a hand towel, and a comb. I also found a lipstick, probably Narcissa's. I carried all these back to her room by hand - using my wand would have felt too much of a cruel taunt to her.

I washed her every day, for she was not even allowed the decency of a private shower. They were scared of her, I reckoned. We have all heard of what she had done for Draco three years ago. It was a powerful, unexplainable thing. Barnabas was lucky the Killing Curse had not rebounded back toward him like it did for Voldemort two decades ago.

Well, I was not afraid of her. My knowledge of spells far exceeded hers, I was certain. Besides, she did not even have her wand. All the same, I prided myself in retaining some form of respect for human rights. I had not yet lost myself to the void of wickedness that Codrus and Lucius had. It was terribly unfair for her to be living in this beautiful mansion and yet be subjected to such squalid conditions.

This time, I sprinkled fresh sprigs of lavender in the water. The scent was beautiful, and as I washed her, she seemed to notice as well, breathing it in deeply.

As I wiped her arms, I eyed at the necklace that hung on her bare and boney chest - the little orb within three rings, in which a bright star floated amongst miniscule constellations. My attention had been drawn to it from the very first day.

She must have seen me staring at it, because she spoke suddenly, surprising me. "Polaris," she said, touching it.

"I know."

"You do?"

"I love Astronomy."

"You mean like Codrus does?" She sounded like she had just eaten on a lemon. I pursed my lips. I did not know what lies Codrus had told her to bring her here, but that must have been one of them. "No," I said. "Not like Codrus."

She was quiet again, twiddling the orb between her fingers. "That's Ursa Minor, isn't it?" I pressed, hoping to show her some geniality. Godric knows there is not enough of it to go about in this godforsaken Manor.  Her eyes widened slightly. "Yeah," she managed to smile. "My parents gave it to me. To help me find my way home, wherever I am."

"That's lovely," I said. I did not tell her that she probably was never going home.

I brushed her hair and dabbed a little lipstick on her cheeks and lips, patting it in with my fingers. "Thank you," she whispered when I was done. I had almost forgotten how beautiful she had looked when they first brought her here. 

"He's going to come for me, you know? Draco."

It had been two weeks, and no one had come yet. I nodded in agreement anyway. "He's probably already on his way," I indulged.

"You're not worried?"

"What do I have to be worried about?"

"Draco, of course!" She sounded surprised. I wanted to laugh. He and what army? Besides, I had heard how much of a useless feck he was, nothing but a cowardly, trembling bag of weeds. But anything to keep her little fantasy going, I guess.

"No," I said. "I'm not worried." Let him come. Let him try to take this away from me.

A thought seemed to strike her suddenly, and she turned at me in worry: "You won't hurt him, will you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well... when he comes. He'll want to fight - he's silly like that. But there's no need to hurt him. Really."

Was she being stupid on purpose? I could not tell. "Angel," I said, patiently. "We can't let you go, do you understand? The baby has to be born. We can't let him come and take you home like nothing ever happened."

"So you're saying he would get hurt if he comes?"

I did not recall Hufflepuffs being quite this dull-witted. "If he tries to take you away, yes." That is, if he ever finds you, I wanted to add.

"Then keep me!" she exclaimed. "Lock me in this room, tell him I'm not here - anything! Just please don't let anyone hurt him."

This was the perfect opportunity, and I seized it. "I'll tell you what. Let's make a deal. You drink this water for me, and nothing will happen to him."

Her brown eyes darted over mine, wilting me with their unusual intensity. "Promise," I added hastily, before I could stop myself.

"Alright," she said eventually. I handed her the glass and watched as she gulped the whole thing down, trying to ignore the guilt that pinched my gut.

She had just saved me from the insatiable wrath of Codrus and Lucius, and in return, I had bathed and decorated her like a show horse at the circus, to be used and abused. Now, I have gone and made her a promise I knew could not be kept. I croaked out a 'thank you' when she returned the glass to me - it was the least I could do.

Codrus was waiting outside her door when I left. "Did she drink it?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes." I moved to walk away, but stopped in my tracks and whipped around. "Is this all really necessary?"

"It's the only way to keep her compliant," he responded simply.

"Compliant?" Annoyance seeped into my voice. "You have her bound and shackled in a room all alone, with no shower and barely any food! We only need her baby, nothing else. The rest is all for yourself. She's married!"

Codrus laughed, an irritating, cocky braying that curdled my insides like spoilt milk. "That good-for-nothing Draco is useless, weak, and fucked up in the head. Hardly a fitting husband for someone like her, don't you think?"

"That in there?" I pointed at the door. "That's not love, Codrus."

There was a flash of white shirt sleeve, and I was slammed against the wall. It knocked the breath out of me, his fingers bunching the collar of my dress. I gasped in surprise and pain.

"Oh, Amora," he growled, baring his perfect, white teeth. "Or should I say, little Morie? Tell me, what do you know of love? You were unloved by your father, and now unloved by your darling Erebus. I think you are hardly in a position to tell me what it is and what it isn't, don't you?"

"Fuck off," I hissed, hoping it sounded more threatening than I felt. He released his hold without warning, and I stumbled on my feet. "I don't think Lucius will be too happy to know you've grown to care for her."

"I haven't," I lied.

He eyed me for a moment, his ice-cold sapphires searing my flesh. "Good," he said, before disappearing into the room.