The Hunt | Regulus Black

My Beloathed

– Flashback –
– Adeline Nott –
– June 1979 –

A bitter winter's day and not only because of the weather.

My betrothed, rather my loathed, is waiting for me at the end of a dreaded aisle.

As I peer through the crack of the door I see him, with a smug grin. A grin that brings me nothing but fury. This is a situation that I never wanted to be in, a situation I'd do anything to leave safely from, but that itself is not possible.

Finding a safe way to leave was near impossible, I knew that Cassian would kill not only me but the baby growing inside me. I needed to do this, for my child.

"Are you ready Adeline?" Thea asks me sympathetically.

She's the only one that knows the truth, she has been there for me a countless amount of times.

I was there the day she became a deatheater, I recognised the dreaded and defeated look on her face. It's one I had worn only a year prior, my personal doomsday.

Thea being only a year younger than me, which made us closer in age than I was to the rest of the female deatheaters. Truth be told, the other female deatheaters scare me.

Joining the deatheaters was like signing my own death certificate, I was henceforth trapped and forced into a future. A world I was tricked into, I followed naively and blindly. What else can a girl who was abandoned do, a girl who had nothing else in the world.

"Adi" Thea asks softly.

I snap out of my trance and nod softly.

"Say the word and we leave Adi" Thea whispers.

She reaches out and holds my hands in hers.

"We both know I don't have a choice Thea" I respond.

I hear the bridal chorus begin to play and Thea nods, she knows I only have one option and that is to protect myself and my baby.

My hands shakily grasp my bouquet and Thea walks down the aisle, my future laid before me. A doomed future at that. Thea reaches the end of the aisle and takes her place, her brown eyes pouring with comfort.

One foot and then the other.

Left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right...

I arrive, I stand before my beloathed.

His presence sends goosebumps up my spine, a shiver I'm destined to experience for the rest of my pitiful life. I got myself into this mess I suppose, no fault but mine.

The eerie church standing silent and imposing, its ancient stones weathered by centuries of whispers and prayers. As I stand there the air becomes thick, the only source of light comes from the stained glass windows, their vibrant colours muted by the gloom of the surroundings. My eyes travel around the room, to the pews draped in dusty velvet, which seemed to have borne witness to countless ceremonies throughout the ages.

An ivory gown, selected by Cassian. I stand before him, your wedding day is meant to be the perfect day, one you dreamt of as a kid. This was far from that, my dress was picked out by Cassian, as was every other element of this wedding.

My groom, dressed in a black suit that seemed to absorb what little light there was, standing smugly at the altar. His eyes darted around the shadowy church, eventually landing on me.

As the ceremony began, the unsettling quiet was broken only by the hollow echoes of the officiant's words. The vows, spoken in hushed tones, seemed to merge with the eerie echoes of the past that lingered in the sacred space. Occasionally, a draft would rustle the tattered curtains, adding an extra layer of ethereal mystery to the atmosphere.

The wedding guests, their faces half-hidden in the shadows, watched in silence, their expressions emotionless. The flickering candlelight danced on their faces, casting ghostly shadows that distorted their features, giving them an otherworldly appearance.

We exchange our rings, the church seems to remain sullen. The ancient stones seem to resonate with the union, absorbing the echoes of vows spoken in a time long forgotten. The depleted church had witnessed countless unions, each leaving behind a trace of solemnity that lingered in the air, creating an atmosphere that blurred the lines between the living and the spectral.

Mine and Cassian's however, it's as if our union has sucked the life out of the world.

Each sickening smile makes my stomach churn, as we walk back down the aisle, walking to my doomed fate.

I'm doing this for my child.

"Wife" Cassian turns to me and says as we step out of the church, his revolting smirk plastered across his face.

I'm doing this for my child.

Those words echo through my mind, over and over.

–––

The night has ended and I lay in my bed next to my husband, a man whose only emotion I feel for him is resentment.

"Adeline" He says as he removes his cufflinks.

I meet his gaze and see nothing but coldness in his eyes.

"Well done today" He mutters before silently getting into bed and falling asleep.

The sensation of life crumbling is an emotional maelstrom that engulfs the soul. It's as if the very foundation upon which existence stood has eroded away, leaving a desolate landscape in its wake.

A heaviness settles in my chest, a burdensome weight that seems to press down on my spirit. Every breath is an effort, as though the air itself has thickened with the residue of shattered dreams.

I get up looking over at my loathsome husband, I walk to the balcony. Opening the doors slowly and quietly to avoid waking him up, stepping out into the cold and bitter air for a hope of finding breathable air. Unfortunately for me, I don't.

Over the coming days, the familiar becomes unfamiliar, and the routine turns into a mechanical march through a joyless procession. Time, once a reliable companion, stretches and distorts, elongating the moments of solitude and amplifying the echoes of a fractured reality.

In this emotional labyrinth, grief wraps its tendrils around the heart, constricting and pulling at the threads of hope. The future, once a canvas awaiting the strokes of dreams and ambitions, now appears as a daunting void, an abyss of uncertainty and loss.

Every corner of memory seems haunted by what once was, and the remnants of shattered expectations lie scattered like debris in the aftermath of a storm. The once vibrant colours of life now appear muted, drained of their vibrancy, as though someone has dimmed the lights on the stage of existence.

A sense of isolation permeates the very core, as connections with others feel strained or severed altogether.

My mind becomes a battleground, where conflicting emotions clash in a tumultuous symphony of pain. Regret, sorrow, and the haunting spectre of what might have been become constant companions, casting long shadows over the remnants of a once-familiar landscape.

Yet, amid the wreckage, there exists a glimmer, a flicker of resilience. It's the ember of the human spirit, a tiny flame that refuses to be extinguished. In the face of life's collapse, there is an opportunity for rebuilding, for discovering newfound strength within the ruins, and for navigating the uncertain path toward healing and renewal. My baby.

My once beloathed, now my husband.