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

Chapter 69: Trustworthy

Songs for this chapter:
Useless - Fickle Friends

"Have something to say?" Lucius asked Elora. Any sense of admiration from earlier was undetectable as he returned to his cold and closed off self.

Elora steeled herself, knowing she should tread lightly. But she couldn't ignore the thrum of darkness in her body, aching and begging for release. She remained silent as she drifted back and forth between feelings of rage and calm, not trusting which one would win the battle.

"Has Severus not yet told you of the part you will play in helping us?" he continued.

Her head snapped up, meeting his eyes. The internal battle waging through her mind ceased immediately at his words.

"The part I will play?" Elora asked, her voice suddenly brimming with suspicion and anger.

"No, Lucius, I hadn't yet discussed that with her," Severus seethed.

Elora scoffed, "Please, do feel free to discuss it with me now."

Severus shot her a look of warning. He knew they were treading on thin ice with her, knew that she was far from accepting of what they were doing. But they needed her—needed all the help they could get. The Order was barely surviving, even with Voldemort's weakened state. Battles had been won by the Dark Lord's forces or left in a stalemate when too many of their fighters lay dead on the ground, but the Order hadn't claimed a victory in several weeks. If Elora relaxed her grueling interrogations, it may just give the resistance enough reprieve to gain their footing once more.

"We need you to help us," Severus began. Elora raised her brows defiantly, knowing how much he was asking of her. "Meet us in Lucius's study at half nine to go to Essex Road Station."

Elora laughed out loud, unable to stop her initial reaction.

"You think this is a joke, Elora?" Lucius said, his tone chilling.

"You're asking me to become a traitor to the Dark Lord, a snake in his ranks? Surely you must be joking," she replied.

She looked back and forth between Severus and Lucius, waiting for the punchline. But it never came. They were serious as could be, their faces not breaking in the slightest.

Slowly, she rolled up the sleeve of her blouse, exposing the dark mark. As soon as she revealed it, she felt the darkness humming in her veins once more, ever-present and ever-wanting. She thrust her arm out, showing them the way it twisted and swirled on her skin with the dark magic.

"You think that I took this mark for nothing?" she seethed. "You think that just because it was forced upon me means that I would waver in my loyalty?"

She was met with strained silence, giving her all the answers she was looking for. It was clear that they had assumed she would go along with them, that her love and care for them would overpower whatever sense of devotion and obedience she had to Voldemort.

But they were sorely mistaken.

As the months went on and Elora climbed the ranks of the Death Eaters, she realized something: she was exactly where she was supposed to be. Her talents during interrogations and on the battlefield were not wasted or graced over by the Dark Lord. He praised her, encouraged her to give in to all of her most malicious needs. And she was fucking good at it from the start.

"Elora," Severus began, his voice soft, as though any harshness in his tone would cause a reaction that they wouldn't be able to handle. He saw the sparks at her fingertips, entirely aware of what she was capable of doing to anyone who dared to cross her.