Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
|| DEATH || CHAPTER 41
ABRAXAS HAD BEEN FIGHTING ON the outskirts of the battle, his mind consumed by the chaos and the roar of spells colliding with shields, when everything around him suddenly felt—wrong.
The battlefield, once filled with screams of anger and pain, had grown eerily silent.
He could no longer hear the clash of swords or the crackle of magic.
The air was still, thick with tension and something darker.
Abraxas' heart began to pound in his chest as an unsettling feeling crept into his gut. His instincts screamed at him that something had happened, something irreversible.
His eyes scanned the field, searching for the source of his anxiety, when they fell on Tom.
Tom was kneeling on the ground.
And in his arms—
Abraxas' breath caught in his throat.
Nyx.
Lifeless.
The sight hit him like a physical blow. His blood ran cold as his mind tried to comprehend the scene before him.
Tom's face was a mask of absolute destruction, his eyes wide with disbelief, rage, and an unholy amount of sorrow.
Abraxas had never seen Tom like this. Never. There was nothing left of the calculating, charismatic man that everyone feared. This was a raw, broken soul that had just lost everything.
Nyx—his sister in all but blood—lay still, her face pale and devoid of the life that had once shone so brightly in her. She had always been a force of nature, a whirlwind of energy and power, and to see her like this, unmoving, was—unbelievable.
Abraxas took a step forward, his feet heavy as though the earth itself was weighing him down. His vision blurred with the pain of it. No. No, this couldn't be happening. This couldn't be the end.
Tom's voice, a guttural, broken cry, tore through the silence, "No!" His scream echoed in the stillness of the battlefield, and it was a sound that would haunt Abraxas for the rest of his life.
The agony, the fury, the desperation—Tom's soul was exposed in that cry.
It was as though the entire world had collapsed under the weight of what he had lost.
Abraxas stopped in his tracks, rooted to the spot. His breath came in shallow gasps, a lump forming in his throat. He had seen death before—he had seen countless friends, enemies, and allies fall in the war.
But this—this was different. This wasn't some faceless soldier or some random victim.
This was Nyx. His best friend. The woman who had been a constant in their lives. She was gone. And Abraxas couldn't even bring himself to move.
The rage in Tom's eyes was like nothing Abraxas had ever seen. A burning fury that filled the air like a storm, crackling with raw power. His eyes were locked on Dumbledore, who stood frozen at the center of the battlefield, his face a mixture of horror and sorrow.
The Light side's forces crumbled like paper in the wind—
But Abraxas barely registered it. His eyes were still on Nyx. Still on Tom, who cradled her broken body with an intensity that spoke of a love so deep it was beyond human comprehension.
As the last remnants of the Light side were vanquished, Abraxas slowly, hesitantly, made his way toward Tom and Nyx.
His legs felt like lead, but he couldn't tear his eyes away. He had to be there. He had to help, even though he had no idea how.
His mind was a whirlwind of confusion and grief, but one thing was clear: Nyx was gone, and their world had just been torn apart.
He dropped to his knees beside Tom, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch Nyx's cold skin. Tears blurred his vision, and for the first time in years, Abraxas Malfoy—stoic, proud, and cold—felt utterly powerless.
"Tom—", Abraxas whispered, his voice breaking. "I—I don't know what to say."
Tom didn't answer. He couldn't. His body was rigid, unmoving, save for the way his hands clutched Nyx's body like he was terrified to let her go.
His breathing was shallow, ragged, as though every breath he took was a struggle against an unseen force.
"I'm so sorry, Tom," Abraxas whispered again, his heart aching for his best friend.
He reached out, placing a hand on Tom's shoulder, but it seemed like nothing could comfort him now. Nothing could fill the void that had opened in Tom's soul.
Abraxas couldn't bring himself to leave. He stayed there, kneeling beside Tom, his heart breaking for the friend who had lost everything.
For the first time in his life, Abraxas couldn't find the words. There was nothing he could say to fix this. No magic in the world that could bring Nyx back.
Tom finally spoke, his voice so quiet that it barely registered. "They took her from me, Abraxas." His words were a whisper, barely audible, but the pain in them was so raw that it shook Abraxas to his core. "They took everything from me."
And in that moment, Abraxas realized that everything they had fought for, everything they had endured, had led them here—to this moment of devastation. To this broken world where they had lost not just a friend, but a part of themselves.
"Tom," Abraxas whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I—I don't know how to help you."
Tom's gaze flickered up to meet Abraxas' eyes, and for the first time in his life, Abraxas saw something in his best friend's eyes that terrified him—utter, consuming rage.
"I will burn this world to the ground," Tom vowed, his voice a low, menacing growl. "And no one will stop me. Not Dumbledore. Not anyone. They'll all pay for what they've done."
Abraxas nodded, not speaking, because he knew in that moment, there was no turning back. The Dark Lord was born anew, and this time, no one would be safe.
The battle was over. And the war was just beginning.
