the girl who lost it all [d.m]

four: memini

memini: remember, recollect, think

———

ELARA couldn't breathe.

He was beautiful.

As soon as he'd turned to face her, dressed in all black, his cloak sweeping over his shoulders, she had staggered back, a stab of pain shooting through her head.

Strands of white-blond hair were falling onto his forehead, his features sharp and almost aristocratic. Straight nose, cut jaw, icy eyes and a scar cutting across his cheekbone.

He was tall and broad and owned every inch of his height and frame, power rolling off him in waves and the memory of him had ripped through Elara like a jagged edge.

She felt the scene around them flicker until she wasn't staring at him in the grassy field anymore—but against a railing, the moon high in the sky behind him, casting moonlight over his features.

His hair was shorter, his build thinner and more lean, and there was no scar on his cheekbone. His lips were contorted in a cruel smirk.

The scene flickered again, dissolving into darkness, but it wasn't empty. Hands ghosted across her skin, metallic rings cold in contrast to the warmth of his palms as he trailed fingers up her spine and—

It faded and she was left staring at the Death Eater in front of her, his face stony.

She knew him—didn't know how but she did.

And as she followed him up the stairs of the porch, watching as he strode through the doorway, not even bothering to hold the door open for her, she felt nostalgia wind through her ribs, felt her head ache a little more.

Her friends were sprawled across the sitting room, Oliver on the couch, fiddling with a radio, trying to get it to work, Maria curled up on an armchair, reading a book, Leo and Valerie playing cards over the coffee table.

As soon as Malfoy stepped in, Elara close on his heels, everyone jerked to attention, surprised. She saw Oliver reach for his wand.

"Don't bother, Wood," the Death Eater sneered in his direction, not stopping as he crossed the sitting room in long strides. "If I wanted to kill you, I would've done it already."

Valerie stared at Elara, raising her eyebrows, as Elara hurried to keep up with Malfoy. She gave a quick shrug in her friend's direction, ignoring Oliver's heated gaze.

Even if Malfoy was on their side in the war, it didn't mean anyone liked him.

"You can't just walk in here and—" Oliver was on his feet now, chucking the radio aside but Malfoy had already exited the room, striding down the long hallway towards the stairs.

"He's right, you know," Elara put in from behind him as their footsteps echoed in the large house. "You—"

"Which room?" he demanded, barely paying any heed to her.