ᏕᎮᏗᏒᏦᏕ

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖴𝗇𝗏𝖾𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀

The fire crackled in the Slytherin common room, casting long shadows across the stone walls as Snape's words hung heavily in the air. Rhea's pulse raced as the weight of his revelation settled over them, her mind spinning with the implications.

"The darkest magic of all," she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. "What does that mean?"

Snape's eyes flickered to her briefly before returning to Draco, his expression grim. "It means the curse you face is not just a family affliction, Mr. Malfoy. It's bound to forces that go beyond your bloodline. Forces rooted in ancient, forbidden magic."

Draco clenched his jaw, his fists tightening at his sides. "Why didn't you tell me this before?" he asked, his voice edged with anger. "You've known about the curse all along, haven't you?"

Snape's gaze remained steady, but there was a coldness in his eyes that made the hair on the back of Rhea's neck stand on end. "I knew enough," Snape replied smoothly. "But what I suspected has only recently been confirmed. The curse was not created by your ancestors, but by someone far more powerful."

Rhea's stomach twisted. She could feel the tension radiating from Draco, his shoulders rigid with suppressed rage. "Who?" Draco asked, his voice barely controlled.

For the first time, Snape hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line before he answered. "The Dark Lord."

The name hit Rhea like a blow, the air rushing from her lungs. Voldemort. Of course. It always came back to him. His influence, his dark magic, still reached out from the grave, infecting everything it touched.

Draco's face drained of color, and he took a step back, as if the weight of Snape's words had physically knocked him off balance. "You're saying my family is cursed by Voldemort?" His voice was low, dangerously quiet.

Snape nodded. "The Dark Lord created a series of enchantments to bind his most loyal followers to him, ensuring their obedience long after his death. The Malfoy family was among those most deeply tied to his dark magic."

Rhea's heart sank. Draco had always carried the burden of his family's past, but this... this was something far worse than she had imagined. "So what do we do?" she asked, her voice breaking through the tense silence. "How do we break the curse?"

Snape's gaze shifted to her, his expression unreadable. "You don't," he said flatly. "Not without a price."

Draco's head snapped up, his eyes blazing with fury. "What price?"

Snape's mouth curved into a slight frown, and for a moment, Rhea thought he might actually look remorseful. "The curse is woven into the very fabric of your bloodline, Draco. Breaking it would require... sacrifice."

Rhea swallowed hard, her mind racing. Sacrifice. The word hung in the air like a death sentence. She didn't need to ask what kind of sacrifice. She already knew it would be something unbearable, something that would change everything.

"You're saying I have to die," Draco said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "A blood price."

Snape's expression darkened, his silence confirming Draco's worst fears.

Rhea's heart pounded in her chest. "No," she said firmly, stepping forward. "There has to be another way. We can't just accept that."

Snape's eyes flickered with something like pity. "There is no other way," he said softly. "The curse is ancient, its roots too deep to simply be untangled. It requires a blood sacrifice to break it completely."

Draco stood frozen, his eyes wide and his face pale as he stared at the floor, lost in thought. The fire crackled behind him, but he seemed miles away, trapped in the maze of his mind.

Rhea's chest tightened. She couldn't let this happen. She couldn't lose him. "Draco," she whispered, reaching for his hand. "We'll find another way. We always do."

His hand tightened around hers, but he didn't meet her gaze. "There is no other way, Rhea," he said, his voice hollow. "I'm the last Malfoy. If I die, the curse dies with me."

Rhea's eyes burned with tears. "No," she said fiercely. "There has to be something else. You can't just give up."

Draco finally looked at her, his eyes filled with a pain so deep it made her heart ache. "I'm not giving up," he said softly. "I'm accepting what I've always known. This is my fate."

"No!" The word came out sharper than Rhea intended, and she could feel her frustration bubbling over. "You don't get to decide that, Draco. We've come too far to let it end like this."

Snape, who had been watching their exchange in silence, finally spoke again. "There is one possibility," he said slowly, his voice cold and detached. "But it is dangerous. More dangerous than any of you are prepared for."

Rhea turned to him, her breath catching. "What is it?"

Snape's eyes narrowed. "There is a ritual. An ancient form of dark magic that can sever the bond between the curse and your bloodline. But it requires immense power. Power that comes with a cost."

Rhea frowned. "What kind of cost?"

Snape's lips twisted into a bitter smile. "The ritual requires the caster to channel the darkest of magic, magic that can consume the soul if not wielded with care. Even if you survive, you may not come out the same."

Draco's brow furrowed. "You're saying I have to use dark magic to break the dark magic?"

Snape inclined his head. "Exactly. The curse was created using dark magic, and only dark magic can destroy it."

Rhea's stomach churned. The thought of Draco—already so entangled in his family's dark legacy—delving even deeper into dark magic terrified her. What if he couldn't come back from it? What if, in trying to break the curse, he lost himself entirely?

But Draco's eyes hardened with resolve. "Tell me what I need to do."

"No!" Rhea said sharply, stepping between them. "You're not doing this, Draco. There has to be another way."

Draco shook his head, his expression set in stone. "There is no other way, Rhea. I'm not afraid of the darkness. I've lived with it my whole life. If this is what it takes to end the curse, then I'll do it."

Rhea's chest tightened with fear, her mind racing. "You don't have to do this alone," she whispered, her voice trembling. "We'll figure it out together. But don't give in to the darkness."

Draco's eyes softened for a moment as he looked at her, his hand brushing her cheek. "You've already saved me more times than I deserve," he said quietly. "But this... this is something I have to do."

Before Rhea could protest again, Snape spoke, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "The ritual must be performed under the light of a full moon," he said. "You have three days to prepare."

Draco nodded, his face set with determination. "Three days."

Rhea felt the room spinning around her, the weight of the situation pressing down on her chest. She wanted to scream, to shake Draco and make him see reason, but she knew it was useless. He had already made up his mind.

As Snape turned to leave, his dark robes billowing behind him, Rhea felt a cold dread settle over her. The path ahead of them was fraught with danger—danger that could consume them both.

And as Draco's hand slipped from hers, Rhea couldn't help but wonder if they were walking straight into the heart of darkness, with no way back.