It hit her with such sudden force that she physically shook. Gripping her midsection, her vision faded out to white as the volume of conversations around her were muted entirely.
Was she dead? Maybe, that was the only logical explanation anyway. She wasn't sure if she could feel anything, but there was still an odd sense of consciousness within her brain. It was like she could see a blinding white light behind her eyelids, but it was difficult to tell.
"You can lay there all you want, sugarplum, but it's pretty boring if you ask me."
Eva jolted at the familiar voice. That was when she realised that she had been lying down on some kind of white surface, so white that it was scarcely visible. Very carefully, she began to climb up to her feet, noticing that even her clothes were the same, although slightly lighter in colour and much cleaner.
She heard a soft laugh and turned her head. Hecate was standing on top of some kind of elevated surface, a table maybe, but again it was near impossible to tell. Everything around her was white, with no ceilings, nor walls, just consistent colour.
"Where-" Eva coughed, tapping her chest to clear her throat, "where am I?"
"Took you long enough." Hecate began to pace along the table, which Eva noticed was longer than she'd initially thought. "You're everywhere, yet really you're nowhere."
Eva paused for a moment. "Excuse me?"
"Well, there are several terms," Hecate explained casually. "Some call it the Void, the Howling, Limbo, the Never-Space, Dimensional Interface, or more commonly the First Circle of Hell. I just call it home sweet home."
She hopped down from the surface and spread her arms wide around her proudly. On the floor behind her was a small mat that said 'home sweet home', which Eva was certain hadn't been there before.
"What?" Eva asked blankly.
Hecate rolled her eyes. "I'll try and explain this in human terms, but tell me if I'm getting difficult to follow. The Never-Space, my favourite term for it personally, is outside of reality itself, outside of time, space, every universe you could possibly think of. It's the furthest away from existence you can be. Nothing you see here truly exists. In the same sense, you don't exist. You're just a floating little entity of a soul, and your soul's subconscious is filling in the gaps, such as where you are, what you look like, and what I look like. We're not here, but we're nowhere else. Understand?" Eva shook her head, but Hecate ignored her. "To make a long story short, you died, and I saved your soul at the last fraction of a millisecond. You're welcome. That there?" She pointed to her left. "You might want to take a look at that for yourself."
Eva slowly turned her existing or maybe non-existing head. Honestly, she was just confused at this point. That was when she saw it, the bloodied, shrivelled up, and tiny corpse of what looked like Voldemort. It wasn't entirely dead, moving slightly, but clearly in a lot of pain.
"That, sugarplum," Hecate sat down beside it with her legs crossed, "is what remains of Tom Riddle's soul."
"Why's he here?" Eva whispered, crouching down towards the ground.
"He can hear you, you know," Hecate laughed. "Isn't that right, Tommy? No, no one wants this soul, so it'll probably stay here for a while. In all my realities, this is the worst soul mutilation I've seen, and trust me when I say I've seen a fair few."
"What do you mean no one wants him?" she asked.
Hecate sighed. "Well, to us soul-consuming entities, it's about the equivalent of how milk that's been left out for three years would taste to your human taste buds. Not pleasant, I can assure you, and not very nutritious. So, he'll stay here unless some poor loser decides to consume him as a dare."
"Then why am I here?" Eva questioned.
"Well, as I said, you're dead," Hecate replied. "But, I saved your soul at the last minute, which is why you're not where you're supposed to really be. Death just causes so much paperwork, you understand, don't you?
"So," she continued, walking away and motioning for Eva to follow, "you're very lucky to be a demon-summoner, you know? Now, I'm not supposed to do this, but technically I can respawn you into your own reality, in the same physical form you were in moments before you died."
"Wait a minute, let me get this straight," Eva began. "I'm in the Never-Space, somewhere where nowhere is. You can put me back into life, which I'm assuming you will, right?" Hecate nodded in confirmation. "And I'm . . . dead?"
Hecate nodded sympathetically and offered her hand. "Want to see?"
"Do I want to see my own dead corpse?" Eva questioned.
She rolled her eyes. "Do you want to see the mess you left behind?" she humoured.
Curiosity getting the better of her, Eva hesitantly placed her hand in Hecate's. The moment their hands made contact, there was a whooshing sound past her ears as a bright light, even brighter than that of the room she'd just been in, shone directly into her eyes.
Blinking uncomfortably, her eyelids fluttered open again. They were standing in the Great Hall, apparently post battle. Eva could see a few people she recognised, and the piles of rubble that had been left behind from the destruction Voldemort had caused the school.
However, it seemed that no one could see her, since no one remotely reacted to her walking past. At one point, she walked straight through a third year Hufflepuff boy as if she was made of nothing.
After a few moments of taking in her surroundings, she finally found herself. Where she had last been standing, Draco was crouched to the ground, and in his arms was her own body, her own green eyes staring lifelessly at the damaged ceiling above them.
Gathered around was a good proportion of the school, including Harry, Ron, and Hermione—the latter was already bawling her eyes out against Ron's shoulder—the Weasleys, including George, who had one silent tear rolling down his cheek, and Luna and Neville, both of whom were on the brink of tears.
Lucius and Narcissa had finally rejoined Draco. Lucius just stared at her body emotionlessly before averting his eyes to the ground, while Narcissa crouched down beside Draco and began to attempt to soothe the blond boy who was heavily sobbing, his constant tears falling from his face and staining the pieces of grey broken stone beneath him.
In another blinding flash of light, it disappeared again. Eva found herself standing back in front of Hecate, who was examining her nails under the brilliant lighting of the Never-Space. The demon glanced up at her.
"Quite finished?" She didn't wait for her to respond. "Good, now we can get this bit over and done with. Bear in mind that I don't do this very much, so often finding the right section of your timeline can be difficult."
Eva opened her mouth to ask but was interrupted with a sensation which was identical to that of whenever she apparated. She could feel her organs twisting in all directions, gradually increasing until she felt plainly uncomfortable. Every limb was stretched massively out of proportion ,before she was thrown haphazardly onto what felt like tiny pieces of gravel.
"What?" she muttered.
Climbing up off the ground herself, Hecate checked her wristwatch. "2 months after your death day, not bad if I do say so myself. I was aiming for a week, but one slip and you could've ended up in Viking England."
"Is this . . ." Eva dusted herself off and glanced up at the tall, looming building above her, "Malfoy Manor," she whispered.
Glancing around her, she realised that Hecate had disappeared once more. Rolling her eyes, Eva took the moment to glance herself over. She was in the same clothes as before, but every dirt and blood stain had been removed. The small injuries on her face were gone, but she was disappointed to see that her Dark Mark was still present.
With a sigh, she started forwards along the long driveway towards the tall metal gates. She was surprised to find that they were already unlocked, allowing her to pull them open and proceed towards the grand front doors.
She remembered being dragged along this way by the Snatchers, most of whom were probably dead or incarcerated in Azkaban by this point. Warily, she climbed up the few steps towards the door, lifted the knocker, and tapped it against the door a few times, each knock echoing through the house.
That was when the nervousness began to set in. Eva could feel her heart racing in her chest. What if he was no longer there? What if he no longer wanted to see her? It had been two months after all, so she wouldn't have been surprised if he'd moved on. Just as long as it wasn't Pansy, then she could pretend not to care.
A pair of sharp footsteps pulled her out of her thoughts. The door was partially pulled open, and standing in the doorway was Narcissa, actually looking much healthier than she had been during the war. Her hair had been styled neatly behind her head, and she wore expensive-looking dark green robes. In her hand was her wand, clearly a new one since her previous one had been destroyed in the Room of Hidden Things. The woman narrowed her eyes at her.
"I don't know what you think you're playing at, but I would leave my premises and my family alone right now if I were you," Narcissa warned her. "I already have a criminal record, and trust me when I say I have nothing to lose."
Eva held her hands up in mock surrender. "Whoa, I'm . . . I'm . . .," she sighed, "this sounds stupid, I didn't really rehearse this well."
Narrowing her eyes, Narcissa began to close the door when Hecate jumped in front of Eva and held it open. "There's no need to get you thrown into Azkaban just yet."
Narcissa froze, and her eyebrows raised slightly. "How are you . . .?"
"Alive?" Eva finished. "It's a demon-summoning thing apparently. But it really is me, Mrs. Malfoy," she put emphasis on her name since she had a habit of accidentally calling her Narcissa on occasion, "it's Eva, Eva Infernum. We first met in Diagon Alley 2 years ago, and I sort of attempted to apologise for what happened to Lucius—I-I, mean, Mr. Malfoy. You met my Pygmy Puff, Draco Jr."
Narcissa furrowed her eyebrows together. "Well, Miss. Infernum, I . . . must say I'm surprised, is all. After all, your funeral was reported in the Daily Prophet mere weeks ago. At least half of the wizarding world paid their respects." She eyed her up and down, as if still uncertain, but stepped to the side to allow her through regardless. "Draco? You have a visitor," she called up the grand staircase that led to the upper floors of the manor.
"Um . . . how's things been since, you know . . . everything?" Eva asked.
She sighed heavily and pressed her palms against her robes to adjust them around her hips. "It's been difficult, as I'm sure you can imagine. Lucius has been struggling, but not quite as much as Draco has." She turned her head towards her. "He truly didn't take your passing well, as you will see in a moment."
Eva then heard movement near the top of the stairs. She watched as Draco descended the staircase, staring down at his feet as he did so. Even from the other side of the hall, she could see that he had heavy dark circles under his eyes, his skin was a ghostly pale tone, and his hair looked slightly dishevelled. He wore a black suit as usual, except it seemed unkept, and he'd removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves.
She felt her heart thumping in her chest as a wave of nervousness began to set in. Feeling unable to make direct eye contact with him, she glanced down at the floor and took a deep breath.
"Eva . . .?"
Eva's eyes slowly rose from the floor to Draco. Now that he was standing only a metre or two away from her, she could clearly see the state the battle had left him in. He looked no better than he had 2 months prior.
"No," Draco averted his eyes away, "no, you're—you're dead, you've died already, you can't . . ."
Eva raised an eyebrow. "Then explain why I'm here right now. I'm trying to think of evidence," she groaned in irritation. "Catrina, help me out here." Nothing. "Fine, be like that," Eva snapped to the currently invisible and silent demon. "We went to the Yule Ball together during the whole Triwizard Tournament thing, remember? We left half way through to yell at Ron because he was an asshole to Hermione." He still seemed unconvinced, staring at the floor beneath them, so she continued. "And the night Cedric . . ." she trailed off, unable to say the word. "You let me stay in your room to sleep so I wouldn't have to fall asleep in the same room as Pansy." Eva pretended to gag before stepping closer to him. "That was when you first told me about Voldemort's evil scheme to destroy my life and yours, permanently ruining our left arms. Draco, it's me, seriously ferret boy."
At least now he seemed convinced. He glanced up slowly, his expression blank. "H-how . . .?"
Eva shrugged. "Told you I can't die. Not permanently, anyway."
It was so sudden that Eva gasped. He threw his arms around her, holding her so closely that he was almost suffocating her. Once she'd gotten over the initial shock of the embrace, she managed to wriggle her arms slightly free and hug him back while he pressed his nose against the side of her neck.
"I thought you were gone for good," he whispered as his voice broke.
She laughed quietly. "Nice try, but you can't get rid of me that easily."
Eva sat on the edge of Draco's bed. Honestly, she felt kind of weird about the fact that she'd never actually seen his bedroom before. Of course, she'd visited his wing of the house, including a room for pretty much every purpose, but never where he usually slept.
It had a very similar layout to his old Slytherin dormitory, only considerably larger. In the centre of the wall closest to the door was a large four-poster bed, and all around them were tall and wide windows, letting in massive amounts of light, although the light levels were beginning to dim as evening approached.
"What the hell are you looking for?" Eva asked him.
He knelt down in front of a cabinet beside his desk, eventually pulling out two small boxes. "If you had no patience before, respawning has brought your patience levels to 0."
"Very funny," she deadpanned. "I have a question though. You didn't go to school before Hogwarts, so how did you learn to read and write and count etc.?"
He shrugged. "All pureblood families teach their children themselves. My father was the one who taught me maths. I still remember the lecture he gave me on the uselessness of it since muggles are so reliant on the skill." He sat opposite her and slid both boxes towards her. "I kept these behind, figured you'd want them back."
"Like Christmas come early," she humoured as she reached for the first item, a long rectangular black box. "I don't know how the fuck I'm gonna tell the Daily Prophet about all this. What do I even say? 'I'm back because I didn't feel like dying'?"
"As valid excuse as any," he remarked.
Very carefully, worried she'd break something, Eva lifted the lid on the box. Inside, on a dark red velvet cushion, was her wand, apparently cleaned since the battle, since she last remembered it being in quite a state. She lifted it up and held it in front of her, unable to resist the smile that graced her lips.
"Incendio."
The fireplace opposite the bed instantly lit up, making soft crackling sounds that filled the otherwise silent room. "You seriously kept this?"
He seemed confused by the question. "What kind of question is that? Of course I did." He nodded to the second one. "You missed one."
"I was getting to that, chill out, ferret boy," she snarked.
The second small box felt all too familiar. Placing down her wand on the bed in front of her, she pushed the lid of the second box up and lifted out her promise ring, the emeralds embellished into it sparkling magnificently in front of her eyes.
She laughed happily as she slid it back on her right middle finger. "I almost forgot about this. I guess I'm just so used to having it on at this point. Thanks." She glanced up at him and smiled, finding that he mirrored the same expression. "So," she moved back against the pillows and kicked her shoes across the room, "what did I miss while I was gone? How normal are things?"
Draco crawled over to sit beside her, much closer than he usually would, while absently playing with her left hand. "You've missed less than you'd think. The new Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, pardoned our family due to our shift of allegiance, especially mine with you. Your family finally returned to their normal lives, just . . . without you. Oh, and Dolores Umbridge was found guilty of the torture and death of muggle-borns, so she's now in Azkaban."
"And Voldemort?" Eva questioned with slight worry to her tone. In her mind, she had only just left the battle after all.
"Gone," he assured her. "Completely gone."
She smiled contentedly as she rested her head against his shoulder. "Oh, and Draco?"
"Mhm?" he asked.
"When we first met on the Hogwarts Express at the start of first year, and I said 'nice shoes by the way', I was talking about your shoes," she told him. "I just thought you should know."
"You're just as weird as I remember," he chuckled, "but your weirdness is the reason I love you, demonic girl."
She laughed under her breath. "I love you too, ferret boy."
THE END
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
Author's note: And finito, done, caput, the end heheh. Holy moly, I forget that I've been writing this story for such a while, but it's finally over. Hopefully I resolved everything well enough for it to make sense, but obviously I had to give Eva and Draco the happy ending they deserve.
This still feels wrong, like it all being over. Of course, I'll be putting an epilogue up soooonnnnn, but other than that, this is the end I suppose ughhhhh.
For the last time (I'm not crying, you are) thank you so much for reading, stay safe, and ily lots!
