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

Chapter 66: Sweet, Sweet Control

Songs for this chapter:
Escapism x The Hills (TikTok Mashup) - Xanemusic
you should see me in a crown - Billie Eilish

TW for violence and scenes of torture. This is the longest chapter we will ever get, but it is incredibly crucial to the plot.

Elora quickly made her way to the cellar of the manor. Wiping tears from her eyes as she moved through the halls, she tried to push the reality of Pansy being a Death Eater from her mind. But it was too real. Just another person Elora couldn't protect. If the war didn't kill her, the guilt she had been feeling for the last year certainly would.

As she walked down the stone steps of the cellar, Elora tried to force her mind to disconnect, but she was distracted. Voices swirled in her head, screaming and taunting her with each truth they spoke.

You're a Death Eater.
Aurelia and Blaise are dead.
You killed Freya and Oliver.
Draco, Severus, and Lucius are working for the Order.
He wants you to be a Horcrux.
Pansy is a Death Eater.
You let all of this happen. It's your fault.

The voices continued to overlap, screaming and chastising her over and over again. She fought the urge to cry out from the agony of every truth lacing its way into her mind. It was too much, and she was too tired. Her head continued reeling until Elora grew dizzy and disoriented. She stumbled the rest of the way into the cellar.

At the bottom of the stairs, grasping the stone wall for support, Elora took a deep breath and slammed her Occlumency walls up. They were weak, fragile and on the verge of crumbling, but they were something. The voices lessened, growing softer and less prominent.

She looked around the room, needing the familiarity of her routine to ground her. Her eyes landed on the small table at the far wall. Sitting on top of it were her normal tools; knives, vials of various potions, and empty jars for memories if she needed to collect them. She looked to the center of the room to find the chair she so effortlessly tied her victims to. But it was empty.

Instantly, Elora was on edge. Usually, if she was called to the cellar like this, her victim was already tied to the chair, waiting to face their fate.

She grasped her wand, pulling it from its place on her thigh. The dim light of the cellar made it difficult to see. It was too dark; there were too many pockets and shadows to hide in.

"Homenum Revelio," Elora whispered. She held her breath as she waited for the revealing charm to yield any results.

One second.
Two.
Then three.

No one. Elora was alone.

Until footsteps from the stairs made her heart jump. There were two sets, each distinct in their own way, but uneven. Someone was struggling.

Coming into the light, Elora's fears were eased when she saw Theodore. Her heart began to return to its normal pace at his presence.

Not alone, her mind reassured her.

But then she saw his prisoner, and her heart once again resumed its panicked thumps in her chest. Her mind swam with memories and realities.

Seamus Finnigan. The Order contact.

Elora did her best to reinforce her Occlumency walls. She couldn't let anything slip. She had to play her part and do her duty. But what would happen to the Order? Would Draco and Severus continue meeting with them? Did they have other contacts?

She looked to Theodore. His face was giving it all away— he knew absolutely nothing of Draco's continued treachery. He looked partly exhausted, making it clear that Seamus had put up a fight. But there was that infamous smile, the giddy expression he would get before torturing someone. It was chilling.