Fierce Consequences [a main character x Snape/Malfoy fan-fiction]

Chapter 38: Severed Strings

Songs for this chapter:
Softcore - The Neighbourhood

Flashback 3 - Draco's POV

Elora and I ignored each other completely after that. I was blissfully letting her slip from my mind as I let my cock slip into Pansy every night. By the time my own birthday rolled around, I felt lighter. Until I saw her make her way down the staircase of the manor.

Elora was fucking breathtaking. Magnificent. And she knew it. She stared at me as she descended the steps. She knew exactly what game she was playing. I tried to confront her about it later in an abandoned hall, but as soon as I started to follow her, my forearm burned and I realized that Voldemort was coming. The dark magic coursed through my veins as my anger at her resurfaced. I left her alone after that. I didn't trust myself around her anymore. I was either going to spill secrets, kill her, or fuck her. None of those were acceptable options.

But then she walked into the fucking meeting room. Right into Voldemort's cold, dead hands. And guess who was following her? My father.

There was something going on between them, I knew it. I could tell by the look in his eyes. He used to have that look for my mother, but that had disappeared long ago. The day I took the dark mark was when it ended for them. They argued- fucking hell, they screamed at each other. I could hear it all throughout the manor. My mother didn't want this life for me, but my father was too loyal, too important of a pawn in the Dark Lord's army to not have his only son follow in his footsteps. They had barely looked at each other since. Separated but together. Still married, but no longer tied to each other. It was out of pure convenience, but they wanted nothing to do with each other anymore.

And then he bent Elora over the fucking table and let Voldemort carve into her skin. I left. I couldn't stop myself. I knew I would face some sort of consequence for my outburst, but I couldn't sit there and watch it.

I paced the empty hallways. My hands were pressed against my ears and I banged my fists against the wall. Anything to drown out her fucking screams. I sat slumped on the floor when they finally stopped. I was in a daze, my mind was foggy and messy.

The sound of Snape's footsteps came into earshot, getting louder until he was right in front of me. I stared up at him, too tired to lash out. He sat there the whole time and watched her arm get mutilated. He did nothing. Fucking. Nothing. Part of me knew he was powerless. He wouldn't have been able to do anything if he tried, but he still sat there and watched.

"We failed," I had finally said. My voice was hoarse from my own yells trying to drown out hers. "We failed and now he has her." Snape was silent as he looked down at me. After a few long seconds, he turned on his heel and left without a word. I knew he was going to find her. It wouldn't be difficult. The way she was screaming I was sure there would be a blood trail to follow.

Theodore appeared after a while. He silently handed me a bottle of expensive whiskey from my father's precious collection before continuing to his room. I uncorked the top and took a long swig. The burn of the alcohol was a welcome distraction. I easily downed half of the bottle in minutes, need something to lull me out of whatever the fuck was happening before smashing the bottle against the wall.

I woke the next morning to light shining in my face. I felt like hell and I know I looked like it too. I sat, still slumped against the wall in the hallway. There was glass from the shattered whisky bottle all around me. I willed myself to get up and find Blaise.

"We need to check on her," he had said. At that point, I was uncharacteristically angry, even for me. I didn't want to check on her. I knew my father would have follow her. I knew his sadistic ways.

"By all means, Blaise, go ahead. But I'm done trying to help her. She clearly doesn't want to be saved," I had fought back. The words were bitter coming out of my mouth, but I was done. I couldn't keep doing this. Blaise left, going to her room. I didn't panic until I heard him yell out for me.

I sprinted down the hall towards the room Elora had occupied. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight my eyes landed on through her doorway.

Blood.
Fucking everywhere.

It looked like a murder scene. How was she even alive? And then my eyes landed on Elora, tangled in the red stained duvet. A single bloody handprint around her neck was all the evidence I needed.

"Don't lie, Elora. I know my father was here!" I spat before I could take it back. The rest of the interaction was a blur. She was scared but it was too late. I was too late.

-

The next few weeks, I shut her out. I could barely look at her. Instead I looked at Pansy. Rather, I fucked her. I needed to feel something- anything to pull me out of the darkness that was threatening to swallow me whole. Thankfully, the Dark Lord hadn't put two and two together. He wasn't aware that Elora was his mystery girl from the boathouse. I would do everything in my power to keep it that way.

But the price I was paying at Elora's expense was high. The torture was worse. Voldemort knew that I was holding back valuable information. He taunted me with her. He knew there was something about her that I was protecting, he just needed to weasel it out of me. But I wouldn't break. I went to Snape's office after every meeting, begging for potions and counter curses to heal me and conceal the residual trembles from the hexes. No one could know.

One night, I was feeling particularly desperate. "Where does she go, Elora, when she disappears?" I had asked Snape. I needed to find her. I had to warn her about my father's plans. He was going to force her to take the dark mark. Regardless of whatever my relationship with Elora had become, I couldn't let that happen to her.

"The astronomy tower. It seems Zabini has been supplying her with an endless stash of drugs to help her cope. Not the best idea in my opinion," Snape had replied. I explained the situation to him, trying so hard to keep my expression emotionless.

"She won't be happy to see you, Draco, regardless of your intentions to warn her" he had said. I spat out a hefty string of insults before I turned to find her.

When I reached the astronomy tower, my breath caught in my chest. She was so close to the edge. One tiny push or movement too far and she would tumble down to the earth below. When she noticed me, she threw the blunt she was holding. It cascaded off the side of the tower effortlessly, just like her body would.

I apologized. I didn't know what else to say. But she looked dead inside. I was so angry with myself, with her. After she didn't respond, I let it take over. Instead of reconciling whatever was left of us, I yelled at her, chastised her. I pushed her away. She spat back at me, her words just as fueled and spiteful.

The strings holding us together were so strained under the pressure of the Dark Lord, fraying under the pressure. It was over. She was done for.