May Death Do Us Part | RB ✔︎

NINETEEN ☆ MONHAGEN

Play the song at the ~~~ for the best fitting portion.

It's December sixteenth.

How Regulus is expecting to get past Voldemort's guards, I'm not entirely sure. And that's if he passes the Malfoy's security.

But here I am, sitting in all black lace undergarments, covered by a black silk robe. I have it tied loosely around my waist, my hair falling in loose waves down my back.

There's a knock at the door and I huff in annoyance, getting up and yanking the door open. Mattheo stands there, his lips parted as he drinks in my appearance.

"Expecting company?" He asks with a quirked brow.

I roll my eyes and move further into the room. Mattheo follows like a lost puppy, sitting on the edge of the bed. I lean against the wall beside the window, watching for any movement.

"Mona?" He calls out and I hum in response.

I twist my neck to get a better view of him, his eyebrows furrowed as he studies me.

"The Dark Lord was pleased with your brutality in Bulgaria, Hungary, and Lebanon. He's offering you a permanent position in his inner circle." He says softly, fiddling with his hands. "You'd be leading some of his death eaters into fights, ordering attacks, ordering slaughters... you'd be unstoppable."

Bulgaria, Hungary, and Lebanon. The three places of the Temptress's bloodiest slaughters. The locations with the most disturbing crime scenes.

He says everything with a monotone voice, too robotic for my liking. It's as if it was rehearsed, over and over and over until he got it right.

The offer is meant to sound appealing, meant to sound like something so luxurious that I'd never refuse it.

But the way he says 'unstoppable' sounds like a bad thing.

I know Mattheo. He doesn't want his dad to have world power. He doesn't want to be a part of his father's army. He doesn't want to be used like a puppet.

My mind flashes back to Bulgaria. The endless pools of blood, the handprints and splatters on the walls of my old home. The lifeless bodies littering the ground. The bloody teddy bear. Regulus.

"I'll pass." I mutter in response, keeping my voice cold in case of someone else listening in.

And then I think back to Hungary, the slaughtering of children in the name of a better world. A muggle-free world. The small bodies lining the streets as other witches and wizards are forced to watch helplessly, held in the stupefy jinx.

"He's not giving you a choice." He says, his eyes downcast on the floor. "You don't have a say in this. He's already putting together some members of his army to make up your own division as we speak. I'm sorry, Mona, but you're a leading head of the Dark Lord's army, now."

It's my last fraction of freedom.

And I remind myself of Lebanon, the place where I murdered the last living heir of the Scamander's. Or so Voldemort thought.

Aurelia, I think to myself, is still alive.

And she'll crave vengeance.