The Serpent and the Spark

Chapter 6

The tension was palpable, hanging over Elena like a storm cloud as she sat in the Slytherin common room, staring at the crumpled letter from her father. It had been hours since she had received it

Lucius Malfoy didn't make idle threats. If she defied him, the consequences would be swift and severe. But what other choice did she have? The person her father wanted her to be—the obedient Malfoy heir—wasn't who she was anymore. Not after Fred. Not after finally realizing that there was more to life than pureblood politics and family legacy.

Across the room, Draco sat with Pansy and Blaise, pointedly avoiding her gaze. The distance between them had grown into a chasm since that night on the Quidditch pitch. She hadn't confronted him since, and the silence was suffocating. They had always been close, closer than most siblings, but now it felt like they were standing on opposite sides of a battle neither of them had chosen.

"Elena."

She looked up to see Draco standing in front of her, his expression guarded. His usual arrogance had been replaced with something more serious, more... resigned.

"Draco." Her voice was flat, tired. She wasn't in the mood for another argument, but she knew it was coming.

"Father's letter," he said quietly, nodding toward the parchment still clutched in her hand. "What did he say?"

Elena hesitated. She knew that if anyone could understand the weight of Lucius Malfoy's expectations, it was Draco. But she also knew that her brother wouldn't see this the way she did. To him, defying their father wasn't an option.

"He wants me to come home," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "He says I'm disgracing the family."

Draco's jaw clenched, but he didn't seem surprised. "You should listen to him, Elena. You don't understand how serious this is."

She stood abruptly, her frustration boiling over. "Of course I understand! I've lived under his control just as long as you have, Draco. But I'm not going back to that. I can't."

Draco's eyes flashed with anger. "So what, you're just going to throw everything away? For what? A Weasley? Do you think he's going to protect you when our father decides you're not worth keeping in the family?"

Elena's heart twisted at his words. She knew Draco was scared, that his anger came from fear of what could happen if she continued down this path. But she couldn't turn back now.

"I'm not doing this for Fred," she said, her voice steady but strained. "I'm doing this for me. For the first time, I feel like I'm making my own choices, and I can't just—"

"You're delusional, Elena!" Draco snapped, his voice rising. "You think you can just walk away from everything? From the family, from the name? This isn't a game!"

His words cut through her, sharp and painful, but she held her ground. "I'm not walking away from everything. I'm walking away from a life I never chose. A life that's been suffocating me."

Draco stared at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger, disbelief, and something else—something closer to hurt. "You think I want this?" he asked, his voice suddenly quieter, more vulnerable. "You think I enjoy being Father's puppet? I don't have a choice, Elena. None of us do."

She blinked, taken aback by his words. For as long as she could remember, Draco had been the perfect Malfoy—ambitious, ruthless, and obedient. Hearing him admit that he felt trapped too shook her to the core.

"Draco..." she began, her voice softening.

But before she could say anything else, he cut her off. "You don't get it, Elena. You're not just risking yourself. You're risking all of us. Father... he won't just let you walk away. He'll punish you. And he'll punish me, too."