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

Chapter 67: Lost

Songs for this chapter:
What Was I Made For? - Billie Eilish
In My Head - Fickle Friends

The first part of this chapter is quite heavy and emulates themes from The Grasp of Death chapter. There are themes of self-hatred and depression. TW for thoughts and mentions of death.

For the first time since she had started her assignments as a Death Eater, Elora felt lost. Utterly and truly lost with no direction or way to go. She desperately wanted guidance, some sort of reassurance that she was on the right path.

She felt like she was drowning in a never ending cycle of good and evil, the two fighting for true dominance of her soul. Once again, Elora had no control.

Reminders of Severus working for the Order made her heart constrict. Had she made too many mistakes? When did she lose her way and stumble down this path? She wanted to blame so many people; Lucius, Draco, Blaise, her parents, Oliver. But it wasn't them. At the end of the day, Elora had made her choices.

She stumbled around the halls of the manor, vision blurred from a sudden onslaught of tears. She hadn't wanted to kill Seamus. For the first time, she realized that he hadn't done anything wrong. Had anyone in the Order done anything wrong? Were they the true enemy?

The look on Pansy's face as her blade slashed through Seamus's neck was embedded in her brain. Shock, horror, pain, disgust. Elora knew that Pansy had finally seen the realities of this life when she pushed past her and darted up the stairs.

Elora felt herself mourn what could have been. Twenty years old, but a lifetime of pain. Twenty years old, but a kill tally higher than almost all of the other Death Eaters. Twenty years old, but forced to grow up too fast.

She thought of all the other lives that had been cut too short, all of the people she wished she could have saved.

Freya,
Draco,
Aurelia,
Blaise,
Oliver,
Pansy,
Theodore,
Seamus,
And Elora.

The dark magic that pulsed through her body felt altogether different now. Gone were the feelings of anguish and thirst for blood and revenge. She felt the poison crack and sputter in her veins, almost like it was being disrupted by something. It was as if someone was finally giving her a break. She looked at her dark mark, and for the first time, it looked faded. After a few seconds, she felt the dark magic retreat from her body entirely.

She collapsed to the floor in a heap, the blood from her most recent execution smearing over the expensive wooden floor. Letting her sobs turn into cries of torment, she fought against the darkness threatening to rise in her soul again. She didn't want it to win this time. All of the emotions, though negative, were things that Elora realized she badly needed to feel.

This was her karma. All of the things she had done, the people she had killed. This was revenge from the universe. And Elora wanted it. She wanted to feel every ounce of it. As her heart and mind shattered into broken and tattered pieces, Elora felt human.

"I'm sorry," she said to the universe between ragged breaths.

Freya, Draco, Aurelia, Blaise, Oliver, Pansy, Theodore, Seamus.

Their images flashed through her mind like haunted portraits. She wished she could go back. What she wouldn't give to hug Feya one more time. The things she would do to see Aurelia smile again. What she would sacrifice to sit with Blaise on the astronomy tower another time. How much she would give to hear Oliver tell her it was going to be okay again.

She thought of all the things they would still have to endure. Draco, Pansy, and Theodore would have to watch her become another tool for the Dark Lord. Her death felt imminent now. It would have to happen. Even if the Order was defeated, surely Voldemort would let her keep a piece of his soul forever. She was just a pawn in his army, a means to an end. Another number.