I sat on the edge of my bed that first night, twisting the Yew wand around to memorize it's patterning and heavy energy. The wood was foreign in my grasp yet perfectly synchronized with my needs and newfound abilities. I chose to allow the warm summer air to creep in through my cracked window, and outside the moon in the sky was full and attentive to my every movement through the huge wall of glass.

Despite having such a narrow emotional range to play with, it felt odd to me that Draco was sleeping on the first floor and I all alone in my room on the fifth.

The shift in our relationship was perverse and sudden, mirroring the changes in our own personalities coming back from the war. Only weeks ago we would never have slept apart. Now, neither of us truly knew who we were anymore, and this time I had the task of being the one who had all of the memories whereas he was scrambling to understand. The damage had finally caught up to us at the very last moment that it ended. I shifted backwards on my bed and pulled up the covers with a lonely, gnawing feeling blossoming deep in my gut.

I struggled to sleep for some time, finally removing the silken glove and inspecting my right hand apprehensively. My nails were black and so were the tips of my fingers. Gradually as the scorching moved down my hand it grew into thin lines that blistered outwards like small veins on a leaf, twisting away into nothing at my wrist. The blood flow and nerves to the appendage seemed to remain undisturbed, so I took this as being a form of surficial trauma. I would have to wear the glove from then on out to avoid dramatic stares and unwanted conversations regarding my unsightly hand.

I desired to go home to my family where I truly belonged, but I couldn't be sure of their receptivity towards me after all that I had done during the war. The deception was unprecedented, and my father had perished as a result of my involvement.

I decided it would be best to shut my eyelids and force sleep, but visions of the wizarding newspaper I had read before bed continued to swim in my mind. They had coined me The White Witch, and plastered it all over the front page which explained the young boy's reaction to me at the alley. Rita Skeeter had gone so far as to completely twist the story into her own false account:

The mysterious young Veela from France , Madeleine Malfoy, who burned Hogwarts to the ground has disappeared after the defeat of the dark lord. Witnesses to her actions describe her use of ancient magic as apocalyptic and unsettling, subjecting innocent bystanders to walls of black flames that could have easily burnt them to dust. Informants describe her appearance as uncanny, ghostly, and supernatural, with long white hair, pale skin, and morbidly obsidian eyes. She is not yet classified as an undesirable, but only time will tell as Ministry investigations into the battle of Hogwarts continue to unravel. Amongst gossipers, she has been coined The White Witch - be warned if you spot her, she may be dangerous.

The article went on to rant about the rest of the Malfoy's, other aspects of the battle, and a long list of all identified Death Eater's who were currently on trial or listed as undesirables. The section dedicated to black listing me had left me feeling more isolated than I already did. No one comprehended what it was like to wake up hollow and lost to the darkness that had latched itself to my heart within; it was akin to an alien parasite that could not be removed even with surgery. It had spread it's tendrils down through every vein in my body like the root system of a tree. I was filled with malice that I could not describe, and entirely alone dealing with it. The only person who could've possibly understood had been taken from me, and what remained of him was sleeping five floors below me in equal pain and confusion that I in return could not help him through.

Behind my closed eyes I could see his sincere face as he had left that day from Hesellø, his words ringing in my ears.

I'll always love you, Madeleine. No matter what.

Except he hadn't accounted for Lucius possessing a secret plan of his own, likely to ensure that Draco did not fail the dark lord. No one could have accounted for such a possibility. And now he didn't love me any more, and his words were nothing but empty ideals rattling around in my brain to mock my memory of our love.

He had been cruel and relentless at lunch, and I would have to learn to give him space to accept his new reality and adjust to his current life. My presence was evidently nothing but antagonistic for him - a stranger who was claiming to be his wife that he didn't recognize. I finally understood how he must have felt bringing me back from the Order obliviated.

I gradually fell asleep with a dull ache throbbing below my ribs in place of a full blown emotional heartbreak. The next morning I was startled awake by a thunderous bang as lightning struck outside of my window. I opened my eyes to see that my room was awash in a dim navy hue. The sun had apparently decided to hide behind the stormy clouds, making the time of day resemble the late evening, not early morning. Something about the fabric of reality felt strange and surreal.

I had barely lifted my head when I heard him call my name from beside the fireplace. "Madeleine," Draco simply stated from where he stood leaning on the white bricks of the hearth, dressed in a familiar tight black suit with his arms crossed. His eyes were boring into me with unblinking deliberation. They were oddly low in hue, almost purple, and his voice released itself in a peculiar echoing as though we were underwater.

I slipped out of the bed and approached him wearily. He looked as he had before the war had ended, with his hair perfectly combed and his demeanor commanding and confident. As I closed the gap between us I saw an unnatural grin seep across his pointy face. My hand had been outstretched to touch his arm but then I paused midway by the sense of threat rippling up my spine, and I retracted my reach nervously. It couldn't be him; he couldn't even stand. He was in a wheelchair.

The image of him hadn't blinked once in the minutes I had noticed him there, simply continued to burn his eyes into me. "Don't you miss me?" He asked in a bizarrely smooth tone that didn't belong to him.

The walls of my room began to bleed downwards as though acid was making it's way through the sixth floor. The exterior of the room washed away like acrylic paint oozing down a canvas along with all of the furniture, giving way to a raven forest with pale blue tendrils of light that were not assigned to any obvious planet or source above. The floor transitioned to an earthen plane with glowing purple plants below my feet. Little spores of dark energy detached themselves from the ground and floated upwards in rotund globules, disappearing in the gray leaves above. The guttural sound of hoarse, ambient wind echoed around me, as if the world went on endlessly.

I had been in a similar expanse before, when I was sleeping in my chrysalis, only this time it had actualized to a more recognizable environment, with characteristics that could be compared to to the Earth. Above in what could only be assumed was a placeholder for the stratosphere, I could see swirls of blue and purple hues and thousands of glittering stars, some far too large for me to be in the solar system that I was acquainted with.

Before me, where Draco had stood, he was replaced with a woman. Her white hair was floating off of her pale shoulders much in the way mine tended to. She was gorgeous, dressed in a trailing black dress that could not have belonged to any modern civilization, and her head was adorned with dripping black beads. Her dark purple eyes continued to drill into me with patience, her head slanted to the side like a predator to follow my movements in curiosity as I spun around with my heart racing.

"Am I asleep? Where am I?" I managed to breathe out in awe of the landscape.

She smiled gently and subtly, "Royaume des Lune, petite Edana." Her voice was silky and sultry, yet dripping with danger. Kingdom of Moons, she had said. She spoke in an accent I had not heard before in any contemporary culture and I was distinctly aware that she could be some form of ancient being. She continued, tilting her head around as though it were loose on her spine, "She who has shown herself worthy, has been so invited to this sacred Veela realm. In thousands of moons, not many have entered."

I swallowed, gaping on the spot with my heart racing. The spectral vibe of the domain was unnerving and I wasn't so sure that it was a blessing to be invited there. I looked up at the tall woman who did not look so phenotypically different from myself. She had suggested we were in a Veela realm, so did that mean she was also a Veela?

"Yes, young Edana, I too am a Veela," she calmly answered my internal thoughts, and my eyes widened in fear. Her voice was like butter or a floating cloud, sending little tingles down my neck with the perfect control of her vocal cords. It was sedative yet alarming.

"Who are you?" I queried in return, trying to straighten my posture and get a grip. My own voice also echoed away, bouncing off of invisible matter.

She languidly rotated her arms at her sides to bring her palms outwards and face the mockery of a sky, moving like liquid in the air. It was at that moment that I noticed black feathers along her arms, fading away at her wrists. They ruffled in and out of her skin as if they could not make up their mind whether to stay or go, "I am Ascelin, the keeper of this realm. You have come to me, and I have answered." Her voice warbled through the thick air that felt subaquatic.

I stared at her terrifying, unwavering gaze, before flitting my eyes to the ground. My vision trailed over the multitudes of exotic foliage my feet were disappearing into. "Is dis because my magic has been poisoned?" I asked. I wondered if I was asleep or stuck once again in another ethereal dimension.

She moved suddenly, floating around me and my eyes followed her, unable to keep up. Her dress and skin smeared in the air temporarily as if the fibers of her being were getting stuck in the atmosphere. She reappeared behind me where tendrils of dark purple fire licked off of her body and long fingers wrapped around my bare shoulders. Her cool breath snaked along my neck, "Poisoned is a misnomer, Edana. You have ascended to your highest self. Embrace the darkness, for it is one with you now."

Something about the entire affair felt horribly wrong. I reached around my slip for where I normally slept with my wand but it was gone. "A true Veela has never required the aid of Elvin materials so insipid as wood Edana, you will learn this with time," She whispered into my ear.

I inhaled sharply, worried that I was trapped somewhere evil, "Why do you keep calling me Edana?" I boldly requested to know with my heart rate pounding below my rib cage. I was afraid to turn my head to look at the beautiful being hovering behind me.

"Young, fiery one - is that not what you are?" She prompted me with a lighter voice. I felt a cold suction of air on my back as she floated away. I finally turned in trepidation, only to see that she was now drifting away through the black, tall trees. I could see the purple glow of her eyes and her aura several meters away. I moved to follow her out of instinct, but her pace quickened until she was but a mere faint shimmering in the distance, and I was lost in the forest much like Alice in Wonderland when the dustpan dog erased the pathway she was on. In her absence, the darkness folded in on me once again.

I sat up in my bed, sweating profanely and panting. Narcissa was standing in the open doorway with Nibs at her ankles, holding a lantern before their faces. The fireplace had randomly died out and the room was pitch black. The expression on Narcissa's face spoke volumes to how frightened she was, heaving in air with wide blue eyes. Nibs clung to the door frame with similar features.

"Madeleine, you were screaming and sleeping with your eyes open," Narcissa explained in a tight voice. "Is everything alright?"

I nodded and smeared my sweaty ivory hair away from my face, "I think it was just a nightmare." They nervously dismissed themselves, and I could tell that they believed no more than I did that it was a nightmare.