CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── "I fell, okay?!"
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─── Y/N POV ───
The next morning, my owl, Skye, propped herself up on the windowsill, her feathers ruffling in the cool breeze as she dropped a letter onto my head, awaking me from a deep, dreamless sleep. My eyes slowly opened, taking in the sight of the parchment now lying across my chest.
"What is it, Skye?" I muttered.
For a moment, everything felt...ordinary. The world was still, the kind of quiet that made it easy to believe nothing had changed. But the illusion shattered the second I noticed the familiar, delicate handwriting on the envelope. My mothers. The parchment crinkled slightly under my fingers as I opened the letter, the wax seal splitting cleanly in two.
As my eyes scanned the pages, I carefully read:
Dear y/n,
I've heard about you and Draco. This letter comes with news I know you may not take well, but it is important for you to understand. As you know, your father and Mr. Malfoy have grown close over the years. Recently, however, we've come to learn of Lucius's involvement with darker allegiances. While I want to assure you this is for the best, it's time to be honest. Your father and I have pledged our loyalty to the Dark Lord. He has promised protection. Power. It is the only way forward for families like ours. I know you may see things differently, but please understand, this is what is necessary.
P.S. Honey, please make up with Draco. We would not want the Dark Lord insulted by your childish actions.
Love, Mum.
My chest tightened as I finished reading, the letter slipping from my hands and slowly falling to the floor. The words my mother had written were repeating in my mind, growing louder and more insistent until it was all I could hear. This couldn't be real. It couldn't. My parents were better than this. They had to be.
I clutched my knees to my chest, the wave of panic taking over before I could stop it. It felt as though the walls were closing in, the room too small, the air too thin. I couldn't breathe.
Beside me, Skye hooted softly, as if sensing my distress. I looked over at her, my vision blurring.
"No," I whispered aloud this time, as if saying it would make it true. "No, they wouldn't."
But they had.
The letter lay there, staring back at me like a threat — a promise of everything I couldn't escape from. My hands moved on their own, picking it up. My fingers curled into fists, crumpling the parchment into a small ball.
