Villain's Love || Draco x OC

(25)

(Mara's POV)

I reluctantly pull away from Draco. I need to do this. I could help finish him. And... Killing that snake, killing a part of his soul might give me some sort of relief; soul for soul. He took a part of my soul when he killed my mother and sister. And I will take a part of his.

Wand gripped tightly in my hand, I warily approach the shrieking shack. Why does Voldemort want to talk to me? I don't know. But it can't be anything good. He would never ask me to join his side. Never. He has dignity, has ego, he would never let his pride shatter.

He wants to kill me. Get rid of the daughter who betrayed him. Get rid of someone that ridiculed him and his power.

Voldemort is already there when I reach the shack. It's an old place, with cracked walls and dusty floors. Cobwebs hang from the roof, trailing all the way to where he stands. The floorboard creaks beneath my feet. I meet my father's gaze, before looking down at his snake.

Nagini is next to him, her body wrapping around his feet. Her head tips in my direction, her tongue flicking. She hisses, before her beady eyes look up and down my body. Prey.

"Mara," he says, his voice deep. He has the confidence to smile at me; a vicious one full of contempt. He releases another condescending laugh, clapping his hands together. His wand--the elder wand-- remains gripped in his left hand.

"What do you want?" I say, going straight to business. I'm not going to play his game. I'm not going to let him win. I'm going to kill that filthy snake, and watch him writhe in pain. Watch him die. And I won't feel any guilt at all.

"You see, my daughter," he ignores my pointed look. He glances down at my hand, looking at my wand. Voldemort smirks before proceeding.

"This wand," he lifts the elder wand. It's magnificent. I can almost feel its power. Voldemort directs it in my direction; not aiming it at me, but more for me to grab.

Confused, I hesitantly reached out for it. He grins when I take it out of his hand. It feels normal. I don't feel any connection to it, as expected. But, for some reason, I think he expects it to.

"You know I love you, Mara," he continues. His voice is thick with deciet and lies. Love... The way he speaks of it reminds me of how I used to think of it. And I couldn't be any more wrong. He had taught me that love was worthless, and... And I fell for it.

"You don't," I respond. Every child needs their father's love, but I don't feel anything at all. I might even feel proud that he doesn't love me. I don't need a cruel man's love.

Voldemort's grin broadens. He seems amused by my bluntness. He raised me to avoid love, but he also taught me to be unfeeling. And in times like this, I thank him for it. Never let your opponent know your true feelings.

"Yeah, you're right," he shrugged slightly, his next words meaning to provoke me. "Why should I? You're just like your mother."

And the mention of my mother, I freeze. He notices my reaction, and I hate myself for amusing him.

"Untrustworthy. Unloyal." Voldemort takes a step closer to me. I take one step back instinctively. "And you know what happens to traitors?" His voice drops to a dangerous whisper. "They die."

"How dare you kill them?" I shout, my body shaking with anger. I wish I could kill him now. I wish!

"They betrayed me," he said. "Your mother, and your sister. They lied and lived in my house, all while they were betraying me. What do you think I should have done? Left them to be? No, then they would have fought against me. Convince them to follow me? Impossible. They were both stubborn wenches. Untameable. Give them the fairytale they thought they would get being a part of my family? Pathetic. This is reality, child. All the smart ones know it."

His tone is vile, full of hate. "You could have given up your power for them," I say helplessly.  Whatever I say, whatever he says, it doesn't matter. It won't change the past. It can't. "Isn't that what love is about it? Sacrifices."

Voldemort scoffs. "What do you know about love, Mara? You think what you feel for the Malfoy son is love? He'd leave you to protect himself. He'd ditch you the moment he had to make a choice between his life or yours. I thought I raised you better, Mara. Now look at what you've become. Soft and weak."

When I shake my head, he continues. More firm, more loud. "That is why power is the only thing you should love. Your mother and sister were holding me back. Malfoy is holding you back. You had potential, Mara. But then you wasted it, and killed Dumbledore."

My eyebrows raise. Why did he bring that up? Not that I'll ever let him know how much the guilt eats me up. "How does that make me lose my potential? That only proves that love is real. I... I sacrificed for Draco."

"You sacrificed your life," he says. He chuckles sadistically. "The moment you said the spell, you sacrificed your life."

At my perplexion, he explains it for me. "The elder wand. It feels great, using it. It doesn't exactly obey me, though. It obeys someone else." He takes the wand out of my hand before I can stop him. "It belongs to the person who killed Dumbledore."

My eyes widen. "And who did that?" Voldemort grins. There's no remorse in his tone, none at all. "You did."

My body stiffens. Yes, yes I did kill him. He was preparing me like a lamb for slaughter. At first, he didn't need to kill me. I was on his side. He could have made me do his work. But now... Now that I betrayed him, he has no use for me.

He can just kill me. And he will.

"Nagini," Voldemort says, gesturing towards me with a wave of his hand. "Enjoy."

As the snake slithers towards me, I attempt to deflect it off. Voldemort sends a spell my way, knocking me into the wall. My head comes in contact with the bricks behind me, and I can feel blood leaking from the new wound. I think I even hear a crack, but I don't know where it comes from. I groan loudly, too focused on the gash forming on the back of my head to move away. Nagini lunges at me continuously, giving me no time to breathe. My world goes dizzy, and I swear I can see stars amongst the blur.

Voldemort and his pathetic snake move away when I'm on the verge of death. I'm bleeding everywhere. I can feel my blood trickling from the wound on my neck, soaking my shirt. I can taste it in my mouth too, a metallic taste. I spit it out before I choke on it. I feel weak, unable to breathe. I don't know if I'm dreaming or not, but I hear the floorboards creak again. Harry, Ron and Hermione enter the shack, rushing in my direction. Hermione begins weeping when she sees me, covering her face. Ron wraps an arm around her shoulders, comforting her. His expression is penitent, helpless.  Harry kneels to the floor, ripping a part of his sleeve. He presses it against the wound on my neck, trying to stop the blood loss. I think he realizes that I'm bleeding everywhere, and I can see the defeat forming in his gaze.

"T--" I manage to stammer. He looks up at me. All hatred he holds for me for killing Dumbledore fades as his gaze turns helpless.

"Hold on, Mara," he murmurs to me. "You can't die just yet. There's a war! We need you." He's shaking too. Not like me, but with emotional vulnerability. Can he take it, to see another person die in front of him?

"Tell..." I take a breath in. It's getting hard to breathe, with the blood. That's all I can see now, and feel.

"Tell Draco."

And I can't finish my sentence, as one last tear slips from my eyes and everything goes black.