Servitium
Latin (noun.) The essence of service and devotion, weaving a tapestry of humble dedication and unwavering loyalty.
"Oh my Ivory, you may not be interested in war, but war is interested in you. You let me violate your justice, destroy what...
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"I don't want to do this anymore," Ivory said to Theodore. A couple of weeks had passed since she had killed Mulciber and since then Bellatrix had taken her on a few more excursions, and whilst she hadn't been the one to deliver the final blow on those occasions she couldn't help but feel she was becoming desensitised to it all, and that was dangerous.
The Dark Lord was succeeding in his goal with Ivory, that was what he wanted desensitisation for the teenagers, it was the only way they'd forget emotions and be of use to him. Still, Ivory couldn't, she wasn't like that, none of them were. She felt as if she was letting herself go little by little, turning into this completely different person, that wasn't Ivory.
"Ivory, I get it trust me, none of us want to do this," Theodore responded, it was true, Draco was a shell of his former self. Ivory had seen him covering up the mirrors in his bedroom room with black cloth, the boy couldn't even look at himself knowing that he was due to murder the greatest wizard of their time. Knowing that he was going to become a murderer, Draco Malfoy was many things but a murderer wasn't even close to any of them. "But you know what's at stake, our lives, our parents, your brother."
"I'd rather die," Ivory mumbled and Theodore sighed.
"No you won't. We've just got to hope...that Harry Potter...wins. Shit never in my life did I think I'd say that, but fucking hell, I really hope that idiots luck pays off this time so all this can be over." Theodore threw his head back to the ceiling and Ivory frowned.
"And if he does what makes you think that we won't be sent to Azkaban?"
"At least in Azkaban we won't be forced to do anything we don't want to, it's not a life, but it's a hell of a lot better than this," Theodore answered.
A strangled sob tore out of Ivory's mouth and she frantically attempted to scramble off Theodore's lap but his arms tightened around her, one hand tangling into her hair to bring her head closer. Ivory succumbed and buried her face into his neck, trembling wildly as the tears fell down her cheeks in salty waves.
"Hey, come on, don't cry," he begged. "It breaks my fucking heart to hear you cry princess." Despite Theodore's words Ivory couldn't stop, she gulped for air and shuddered in his arms. Theodore took to stroking her hair and making soothing noises which only made the Gryffindor girl cry harder.
"I'm a coward, a loser, evil, the complete opposite of a Gryffindor why am I even in that house!?" Ivory's voice was muffled against his neck, but Theodore's voice came loud and clear.
"You're none of those things, baby, I promise. And you're a Gryffindor through and through."
"Then help me prove it because I'm loosing sight of what I believe in and in turn myself."
Theodore gently pulled her head up, and Ivory met his gaze finding nothing but raw emotion and shining sincerity. "Okay," he whispered. He then let out a shaky breath. "Okay. I will."
