A LOST TIME AGO
Her ancient, golden cloak billowed over the edge of the chasm. It's frayed edges that had swept the grounds of many lifetimes left a trail of speckled, sacrificial blood from which it's fabric had been woven. This cloak had walked worlds, hiding its master beneath its blessed hood. It blew like liquified riches in her wind as she peered through the edge of the dense, barren forest below. It was a desolate winter in this passage of time — this small, sacred haven where she had chosen to settle all those years ago.
Of course, she hadn't known she would call this place home for over nine lifespans then. It wasn't until she had met him — the one who had dared to capture her black-blooded heart and had vowed to follow her across the stars if she wished. He was a conqueror of worlds in his own right, and would burn his own empire if his people dared to take her from him.
It was only fair that she did the same, or so he had told her.
She pressed her trembling hands together, sensing they had come as called. She shut her glittering eyes. The thought of what must be done weighed too greatly.
"I cannot," she whispered. Her voice shook from even considering such a heinous crime.
He stepped forward, his boots crunching the snow beneath his heavy step. His rough, tan hands hung on her hips in a gentle and alluring embrace. It was a touch she couldn't bear to part with.
"You must." Her lover's whispered carried behind her ear in a heated breath.
She wrapped her worries in his summer scent. The sun and the salt air would forever kneel before his mortal bones for the rest of time. Hell, she might even kneel before him on her own gilded knees. Wasn't the forging of a god merely the doom of old beliefs? He had turned her coveted immortality into a curse.
"My time — us. It will come to an end," he murmured as if he were cooing her with a lullaby. He pulled back the hood of her cloak and pressed his lips against her temple. "They hold my precious life in their hands."
Her lover rested his chin upon the hollow of her neck. His raven curls entwined with her silken strands in the harsh gale, as if the wind knew something wicked was unfolding.
She swallowed, still fluttering with apprehension as he pressed his lips to her skin. His voice vibrated from the depths of his cruelty. "Take it from them."
— — — — — — — — — —
[Saturday, January 18th, 7:36 PM]
It's a Saturday without my supervision. Don't get into too much trouble tonight.
— — — — — — — — — —
The thrum of music echoed through the dungeons. Dahlia could feel it, even within Draco's dormitory. The steady pulse was still somehow quieter to her than usual, as the voices of the stars were barely audible beneath the shallows of the lake.
She stared at Theo's empty bed as she sprawled on Draco's own, navy book in hand. She remembered the day Theo had met her father. She had awoken in his bed instead and stared at Draco as he slept in the early morning, wondering what it might be like to wake up in his arms. She now knew, but at what cost?
His bed remained pristinely put together, almost like he had calculated the most efficient method of how one should make their bed without a wrinkle. It was as if Draco and the others hadn't dared to disturb it out of grief that he might be truly lost, or hope that he would someday return.
Dahlia was in the camp of the latter. Their hope was wasted on him. They had better things to pray for at night, even though Dahlia was sure they didn't pray at all. A promise from Theo was jinxed. He wouldn't return — not even for her. He would always be chasing the hope of something better, which came far before her.
Draco exited the bathroom in a burst of steam.
Dahlia tilted her head to the side upon his emerald sheets in his direction, all morose evaporating in the moment their eyes connected. She smiled, so deeply smitten.
He grinned. "I have something for you."
Dahlia pushed up onto her elbows. She was quick to admire the view as Draco strolled across the circular dormitory with a towel loosely folded at his hips. He opened his armoire and gathered clothing to her dismay. He turned and read the disappointment in her expression and the heat in her heart-shaped cheeks.
"Miss Aldair, are you having dirty thoughts?"
He slowly stalked towards the bed.
"Me? Never." She shook her head as he grabbed the railing of the canopy above her and leaned down. He held his mouth close to hers, enough to spark electricity between them. A cocky grin was upon his face, like he knew exactly how he affected her.
"I actually find you quite repulsive," she sang with a smirk. She tilted her head back to siren her eyes.
"Is that so?" He dropped his hand from the railing, then released the towel. Draco stood in front of her wearing nothing but a smug grin, gorgeous as ever. His muscles freshly worked from the quidditch match earlier.
Her stomach danced with anticipation. She blushed, even though she had pulled his body into hers almost every night. She averted her eyes, noting that he was nearly hard from nothing but this slow banter.
Like I could judge. He had her pulse racing with a single look lately. She bit her lips together and snapped her knees shut.
His smirk only widened as he noted how she shifted beneath him.
"You should probably get to the party then. You know, since I'm so revolting," he whispered. He made no move to put on the clothes he had gathered and tossed onto the bed next to her
Dahlia sat up straighter, a breath away from the bare skin of his torso.
"You're right. You always are," she replied sweetly. Her sarcasm was best served candied.
He rolled his eyes as if her antics were his achilles heel. She went to stand but he quickly blocked her with his knee, dropping his smirk. This was usually the point where he barrelled past all games and took her without mercy.
She brought her lips to his warm skin and dragged them up his chest. He held back a moan as she rested her chin against his lower sternum and pulled his storm-grey eyes to her.
"Maybe I'll find someone less offensive to bring to my bed tonight," she teased.
He scoffed, balling her long hair against the nape of her neck and lowering his mouth to the hollow. "What did I tell you about sharing?"
He forced his hands between her knees. The coldness of his metal rings against her heated skin had her catching her breath. He pried open her legs, spreading them wide.
He looked down on her nearly jealous, which quickly morphed into his darkest shade of arrogance as his lusting eyes locked on hers. He reached beneath her short, leather skirt. Her pulse was racing dangerously, and Draco knew it.
Please don't rip this. It's Amelia's.
"You think you can find someone better than me?" He whispered, breathing hard against her jaw. She was blinded by her need. Numbed by his touch. She didn't dare nod. He fisted her sheer, dotted tights until they tore at her inner thigh.
Dahlia yelped in shock, half expecting it to hurt. His grin widened.
He leaned forward, forcing her to lean back. Before she could even think properly, he plunged his fingers within her through the rip in her tights. She gasped loudly and he groaned as if there was nothing sweeter in this world than being inside her.
He was quick to place a hand behind her neck as she leaned even farther back, rolling against his hand. She closed her eyes and let her knees fall open entirely, wanting to give herself to all of him out of the deepest depths of her vulnerability. She was docile prey in the arms of her hunter. He had struck her heart true in a hundred lifetimes.
"You think someone could love you more than I do?" He whispered against her mouth. She tried to close the distance but he held her back. He traced his lips from hers to the front of her throat. "That's entirely impossible."
He lowered her fully onto the bed, finally releasing her from his iron grip. She couldn't get her shirt off fast enough. He didn't spare her a moment as he pulled off her tights.
"Spin," he motioned. "On your stomach." He was flush and dazed by his own need for her. It was irresistible.
She leaned up and caught his bottom lip with her teeth and pulled. He moaned into her mouth as his rough hands squeezed every ounce of her body. She wasn't sure how much longer she could be teased until the energized stars within her threatened to combust. He ran his hands upwards and cupped her breast with a lustful grunt.
"Now, baby," he whispered.
Dahlia spun onto her stomach and elbows. She shook with a new, blinded anticipation. The weight of the bed shifted as Draco pressed his knee onto the mattress to lean forward. He brushed his hand up her bare back, arriving at her bra. He unclasped it and let the straps fall to her shoulders.
He finally reach for the zipper on the back of her skirt. He pulled it down slowly, teasing her of what came next. She looked back and he grinned wordlessly before stepping off the bed again and shimmying her out of it, their eyes never parting.
He took a moment to appreciate the sight of her naked upon his jeweled sheets, completely bare and irreversibly in love with him. It flashed in his eyes — that this was all he had ever hoped for and worth every painful moment of waiting and holding out for her.
"It's ridiculously impossible," she laughed, breaking the silence.
He shook his head and kicked the feeling off, giving into his need again.
She looked down at his sheets as he traced up her thighs and over her bum. She squealed this time in surprised anticipation as his weight met the bed again. He bent over her. Her skin electrified from where he llcked from the bottom to the top of her spine. She felt the long length of him press against her thigh as he reached the nape of her neck. He slid his hand between her hips and the sheets and found the ache where she needed him most. A soft moan escaped her as he applied the sweetest pressure.
"Is this okay?" He murmured, pressing the tip of himself at her entrance between her legs.
She nodded. "Yes," she answered, already losing her breath.
She wanted him to take her like this. Have all of her. She could already imagine how much tighter he might feel from this angle. She wanted him to do his worst, honestly. She pushed her hips against him with a darkened, smoky grin that conveyed every awful thing that she wanted from him.
With her hair on his lips, he murmured, "good, because you're fucking mine."
He lifted her hips higher, and bit her shoulder. She gasped as his teeth scraped against her tender skin and he worked himself into her, slowly and down to the hilt. He held his breath until her was fully inside of her.
"Fuck," he groaned on a heavy exhale as she adjusted to him.
She let her head fall forward. He couldn't possibly feel any better than this. No one could make her feel anything close to this. The insistent crave she felt for him was primal as if they had been separated and starved in the distance of worlds.
Muscles low in her stomach tightened around him in pleasure. He waited for her to make the first move, set the pace. She dug her nails into the skin of his knuckles as she cracked back against his length — and he knew.
He held her hip, and began. Moving and coiling, all in instinct. His unforgiving thrusts strong and deep. She was quickly lost in him. There was nothing but him. Beyond the pulverized bones of fallen kings and the shattered spool of time, they withstood to worship each other relentlessly.
Dahlia took heavy breaths, skin slickening beneath the heat and weight of him as he towered over her.
"Look at me," he whispered into the crown of her hair as he slammed into her, his curve finding new depths. "You look so fucking good for me like this." His voice was worship.
She looked over her shoulder, meeting his darkened gaze as they moved together. Her hips followed his lead as she would follow him for lifetimes. He guided her with the confidence and sureness that he would always lead her home, no matter how far they strayed. He was steadfast, in love and pace as he surged into her, again and again.
She watched as his muscles rippled, flexing and tensing as he sawed his jaw to fight the pleasure.
"It is not enough to say that I love you." He squeezed her fist harder and she tore into his sheets. Their bond ricocheted in the expanse of their love, whipping their love and lust from one end to the other.
His thumb returned to the her aching center as he leaned down, tracing the sharpness of his teeth across the marking that had solidified their love. His thumb moved precisely — his way of telling her that he wanted her release, and now.
He circled his hips along with his hand and Dahlia nearly trembled and fell from sensations she had never felt before. She nearly worried that it was the well of her power responding, answering his call. She almost pushed him back but she could hardly find words. Only choked moans released into the thickened air.
"Does this feel good, baby?" He teased with a mocking grin. The way she shook and how her mouth refused to close told him everything he needed to know.
"Do you want it?" He teased in a whisper, already knowing the answer she could not find the oxygen to answer.
Her heart might have stopped. The world might have ended. He licked the dampness of her neck and the tension snapped. It whipped through her in sweet, pulsating waves. He held her up as her muscles gave out from what he had given her. She wasn't sure if she moaned his name or anything at all as she gave into him.
"Fucking gods," she gasped.
He hauled her over onto her back to face him. She smiled ear to ear as his jaw ticked and his eyes set on her like a target. He flung her back and spread her legs for him. She arched as he entered her once more. It was an intensity she rarely experienced as he surged against her, losing all sense of his carefully monitored control. He pressed his forehead against hers. His muscles flexed and rolled under her hands upon his back. His head fell back as he cried out, shuddering.
She kept him close as he moved against her until he finally dropped his head to her neck. He breathed heavy and she thought they might have stayed frozen in this moment for an everlasting moment. Their skin cooled and their hearts settled back into same, slowed beat.
He brushed his hand over her marking, then his mouth. "You're so beautiful. I love all of you. I'll always love you, no matter what happens," he whispered.
Dahlia tilted her head and met his eyes. "You don't think it's dark magic? A curse?" She murmured as if the thought was deadly.
"No," he laughed softly, unbelievably. "Even if it is, I don't care. It's a part of our story. It's beautiful. Plus, I'm particularly fond of dark magic, haven't you heard?"
Dahlia snorted, then smiled before dressing. "You said you had something for me?"
"Yes." He grinned proudly "I do."
Draco stood from the bed and took a deep breath, his high cheekbones still flushed. He pulled on a fresh pair of grey sweatpants before reaching into the drawer of his nightstand.
"I stole something for you," he whispered like it was a dangerous secret.
Dahlia said nothing but laughed lowly, remembering how Theo had stolen the journals for her when they first began dating. Stealing seemed to be the only true way to win her heart.
"Hold out your hand," he murmured.
Dahli sat on the edge of the bed and put her palm in his.
He smirked to himself as he placed a golden snitch within her hand. The one that had decidedly won the match from earlier. It spread its delicate wings as its metal found her warmth.
Dahlia opened her eyes. Her expression brightened.
"I didn't give it back after the match. I've never seen a snitch soar so high, and this one was particularly tricky to get my hands on — always just out of reach. It was as if it wanted to be in the heavens, so I thought I would place it in the stars."
He closed her fingers over the golden sphere as it tucked its wings in a docile nature. "You are where it belongs."
Dahlia grinned as she looked up into his shimmering eyes. She remembered how it had felt to fly with him when they had searched for the crystal. It had been absolutely terrifying yet completely exhilarating — like falling for him.
She often watched him above in the early mornings or during the Slytherin matches. Even when her eyes were supposed to have been on Theo, she couldn't help but tilt her head back and look up. He flew as if he was racing time itself, or as if he might capture a comet instead.
"I know there are much better gifts to give you — and I will-"
Dahlia interrupted him with a small kiss. "I love it." She nodded down to her crystalized marking that was bone deep. "I think I'm set for life on jewels."
He chuckled, cupping her face. Dahlia released the snitch and it began to gently buzz around the room, refusing to stray too far from her. She leaned up to meet his lips and he kissed her like he had waited all of his life to catch her heart too. He pulled back and brushed his knuckles against her temple.
"I love you," she sang, beating him to it. "And I'm proud of you," she added.
He had caught the winning snitch, making it his first successful match as the newly appointed captain.
He smiled, true and all too rare. "I love you — what did you say again? From my stars to yours?"
"Mhm," she nodded.
"I think I like that," he murmured against her forehead. He ran his hand through her hair before stepping back to retrieve a shirt.
Dahlia swung her legs onto his bed again and reached for the old book. They had procrastinated in the best of ways.
He eyed her with a smirk. "I like seeing you in my bed instead."
She huffed lightly, a bit taken aback. "That's fairly obvious."
He narrowed his eyes as if he had hoped she would take the bait while he pulled on a white shirt. She sensed he wished for her to open up more about Theo. He didn't dare ask her if he still wrote, or if she wrote back.
He grinned devilishly as he passed Theo's perfectly pressed bed. "You know, since you fucked him in my library, it's only fair-"
"No."
Draco held up his hands apologetically, backing off the subject.
"Hint taken." He stepped back.
Dahlia loosened her glare. She opened the small book as she rested against Draco's pillows and the dark, wooden headboard where a winding serpent had been carved. She shuffled through the aged pages with worn edges. It was a personal journal written entirely by hand in swooping letters, which was partly why she had struggled to finish reading it.
"You still haven't finished that book?" Draco asked, strolling towards the white-stone fireplace opposite of his bed. He lit it with an upwards curling of his fingers.
A knock rapped on the door. Before Draco could unlock it, Xavier kicked the door open and sauntered into the room. The sapphire sweater he wore made his eyes all the more striking. He glanced around boredly.
"Are they clothed?" Eloise peeped from behind him with hands over her eyes.
He sighed, disappointed. "Unfortunately so."
He lazily stepped further into the dormitory. "I've been waiting impatiently for over an hour out there. Eloise fought me, insisting you needed more than five minutes to finish."
"That's four minutes longer than you," Draco bristled.
"It wasn't an hour," Eloise scoffed. She went to take a seat next to Dahlia, but thought better of it.
"You haven't finished that book yet?" She asked, eying the text in Dahlia's hand as she sat on Theo's bed. Dahlia nearly flinched. It was like she had sat on his grave.
Dahlia shook her head. "No, I keep falling asleep. It's terribly boring. The author talks of nothing but how his wives compare to different fruits."
"That's wretched," Eloise shivered.
"You'd be an orange," Xavier called as he relaxed into the velvet couch in front of the fireplace.
Eloise turned, more than befuddled. "Why?"
Xavier grimaced, folding his hands uncomfortably. "I don't know. It just fell out of my mouth. Please don't smack me."
Eloise turned her glare to Draco, who nodded and smacked Xavier across the back of his head.
Dahlia narrowed her eyes. "Anyways-"
Xavier sighed loudly. "Ugh, Dahlia, if you really want to get to the good part just search the text for a keyword."
Xavier stood as if he was annoyed to have to get back on his feet after waiting so long. He strolled over to Dahlia and pulled his wand out. "What shall I search? Teas to poison an obsessive ex? Petals for engorging?" He winked at Draco.
"Speak for yourself," Draco muttered, smug as ever.
"Searching for 'Bloodwood' will do," Dahlia answered bluntly.
Xavier tapped the parchment with his wand twice and the pages began to flip rapidly.
"You Ravenclaws never wish to skip a page. Figures you wouldn't know such a simple spell."
Dahlia glared into his cold, glacial eyes. He raised his brows quickly then knuckled her hair as if she were one of his younger brothers.
Draco shot her a look, making sure he hadn't crossed any of her boundaries as he restlessly manipulated the golden snitch with his magic in an olive-shaded chair by the fire. He was just as worried as Dahlia that their next discovery would be equally horrendous as the last one, and the one before that.
The pages slowed, revealing an illustration of tree bark and darkly-colored sap dripping down the page in a sweeping motion. It reminded Dahlia of the shape of her own marking, as if the text were leaves lost in the wind.
Dahlia inhaled sharply as she read the first three words in fanciful hand-writing upon the page.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Well that's never good to hear."
"What is it, Dahl?" Eloise quickly raced across the dorm and hovered over her shoulder as Dahlia began to read aloud.
"God's Killer Grove is home to many anomalous flora, all magnificent in their unique properties. Located in the Northeast knoll beneath the ridges within The Wolfwood, a circular row of trees is said to be the birthplace of this unusual magic that breeds powerful plantlife. Local folklore claims a smaller goddess was slain upon its roots, and in her last breath, she blessed the forest with the promise of everlasting life. The roots drank the last of her spilled blood and cursed the god slayer for an eternity for what they had done.
Noticing the unique, crimson hue in select blooming petals and a particular network of trees as the vegetation flourished, the surrounding village gave the forest its first name — The Bloodwood. As the legend passed of the god killer, who was said to be born of the Goddess of Night and for which the wolves thrived upon the new, claimed land their moon-blooded had claimed, the forest became known as The Wolfwood.
Muddled petals and sap from the tree bark of the crimson flora are known to bestow second chances upon unfortunate souls if brewed properly and ingested under a red moon. Risks are disastrously fatal if combined in an incorrect nature, and there is limited record of telltale signs when the brew has been perfected. Those who are brave enough to ingest the near deadly potion are said to have altered the course of their destiny. Ingredients include purified essence from The Bloodwood, a pulse from the purest of magical blood, the essence from a creature of the moon..."
Dahlia took a long blink, steadying the sudden dose of horror.
"...and an incurable drop of...deadly nightshade."
Anger pulsed. She had been so stupid — naive.
"Fuck!" She seethed as she hurled the book onto the floor.
Eloise jumped back in surprise. "What is it?" Her face fell in concern.
Dahlia stood and began to pace. Everyone stilled, afraid she might raise her blinding darkness in her temperamental fury. She raised a hand to keep Draco at bay as he threatened to come to her aid, fueled by her own betrayal as it beat into him through their bond.
Her mind tumbled, putting together all the pieces.
"Fuck!" She kicked Draco's bedpost.
"He's known about this for fucking months! He's been planning this for ages!"
She huffed as she gripped her forehead. The betrayal wasn't about how long he had been plotting. The betrayal lied in the extent of his lie. The lengths he had gone to while keeping her blissfully in the dark with his charming grin and his ability to say all the right things.
Eloise took a careful step forward. "Dahlia, you couldn't have known he would try to do something like this..."
"I sure did," Xavier chimed.
Dahlia wilted at his admittance, crouching to her knees as she rubbed her eyes.
"I should have known! I've known he's been turning time since October! Since he fucking met me! Fall Break? When I arrived at his manor, he even pointed out the belladonna — the deadly nightshade." She snorted as if this whole thing was poetically hilarious.
"Essence of a moon creature?" She raised her hand. "I'm sure the ring I gave him will do! And if he brewed it beforehand, I'm sure he had plenty of strands of my hair from all the times he offered to brush it for me! He's a pureblood! That forest is his fucking home!"
She angled her eyes to Draco. It was enough permission to have him storming over to her. "You were right," she scoffed.
He was right about Theo's dwelling being too eerie to be a coincidence and he was right all these months later that Theo would consume every bit of her, leaving nothing more to give to him. The part of her heart he had claimed with a swift grasp was poisoned by the same touch. It left a shell carved out by his betrayals.
Draco was right — he had irrevocably broken a piece of her.
Her features twisted in sorrow. She hadn't cried for him in days, long enough for her to think the worst was over and she was done spilling tears.
"Draco..."
Her voice trembled in a broken plea to fix it — fix her. She fought back starlit streams from her prickling eyes.
He crouched down next to her, meeting her at eye level. He tucked her hair behind her ears and read every line of her and Theo's broken fairytale in her expression.
"Darling, come here." He reached out and Dahlia was soon encompassed within his calm embrace. He kissed her forehead and said nothing for a moment. It was a healing silence he had gifted her.
"I won't let him hurt you. Ever again." His words were colder than she had expected. It was a lethal promise that conveyed all bets were off.
He softened his tone. "That potion will only alter his fate, not ours. We are a singularity that can't be changed. Your mother said it — the universe resists changes to its ending."
"Then there is still something he knows that we don't," she snapped harshly.
Draco said nothing in return. He kept steady, rubbing her back.
Eloise sighed. "Or there's a piece of the plan we're missing..."
"In my vision I learned that Themis gifted the Fates her blood to make corrections when needed. The Wolfwood was born from the blood of a goddess. There's a connection there..." Dahlia mumbled.
"And we can only assume the Fates are gone," Eloise added.
Xavier crossed his arms. "Theo didn't believe the Fates were dead when we spoke. He might know something, or we might know the truth Theo refuses to believe."
Draco and Dahlia nearly winced at his name, almost afraid if they repeated it thrice he might appear like a hellish ghost.
Dahlia willed herself to be as clever as him. She could almost imagine what he might say now. How he might push her to find the answer on her own with an irreverent smirk, like he thought he was smarter than the gods — smarter than her. She could practically feel his drawled whisper against the back of her neck.
Come on, love. Maybe if I give you a kiss, you'll think of it sooner.
She thought back to the moments shared in his manor, shaking her head.
I knew I liked you then. You were clever like me .
Why couldn't she see it then — the pride in his eyes had been for himself, not her. She tilted her head back, apologizing to her stars that she had failed them. She knew what he would say once she told him that she had put the pieces together.
Nevertheless. Right, my Dahlia? I will always love you. Even when our bones return to the earth, I'll find you.
When had his proclamations of love turn to threats? Or had they always been two edges of the same blade. A blade that now felt like it had cut her wide open.
Draco laughed scornfully, a stark contrast to how he cradled her protectively within his arms. "I know what he immediately thought of when he read that passage." He shook his head. "I've known him my whole life. It wasn't The Bloodwood or the potion that he found most informative."
Dahlia pushed herself to remember, wake through her memories with him as painful as it was.
"No more secrets," Theo had mumbled.
She was nauseated as she recalled the cold oath that had been in his eyes as the lie fell on her heart, sworn to the monster she had made.
"I'm going to sever your ties to Draco, and Dahlia, I'm going to kill them for it."
She stood. Xavier opened his mouth, but Dahlia beat him to it this time.
"He realized gods can be killed."
— — — — — — — — — —
[Sunday, January 19th, 11:04 AM]
You told me no more secrets.
[Sunday, January 19th, 11:06 AM]
Seems you've been reading up. I will tell you whatever you wish to know.
[Sunday, January 19th, 11:10 AM]
How are you connected to The Bloodwood?
[Sunday, January 19th, 11:12 AM]
That still mystifies me.
[Sunday, January 19th, 11:13 AM]
You're lying. I know I can't trust you.
[Sunday, January 19th, 11:14 AM]
You can. I may have hidden a small amount of my findings and broken a few promises, but I would never deceive you or willingly hurt you. You're the air I breathe and the light within me.
[Sunday, January 19th, 11:15 AM]
I'm sorry.
[Sunday, January 19th, 11:15 AM]
Dahlia, baby. Please.
[Sunday, January 19th, 10:59 PM]
Dahlia? I love you.
[Monday, January 20th, 9:20 PM]
Happy birthday season, my little Aquarius. Is there anything you might wish for?
[Monday, January 20th, 9:43 PM]
I can't write to you any longer. I can't love you anymore.
[Monday, January 20th, 9:44 PM]
Don't break me. You're all I have.
[Tuesday, January 21st, 10:06 PM]
I love you. Please.
[Wednesday, January 22nd, 8:17 PM]
I love you, my Dahlia.
[Thursday, January 23rd, 10:31 PM]
Please answer me.
— — — — — — — — — —
Dahlia awoke in the night, fluttering her eyes open peacefully. Her senses had gently warned her that something — or someone — was nearing. Her head remained on the pillow in a dreaming haze, unafraid of the amethyst eyes that glowed through her window, painting her in a beast's loving light.
—
A storm raged in the deepest hour of winter. The fury of the black skies met the clashing waves of the raging sea, blurring the horizon into one.
Theo grinned, having never felt more like he belonged.
He stood on the frigid edge of the bluffs, a day beyond Hogwarts valley. The precipice of worlds laid just beneath his dirt-soaked boots. The rain slashed against his hollow cheeks and left the curls of his hair plastered against his paling skin.
The earth sank beneath a great weight. Valeria rumbled lowly as she stepped forward in warning. He turned, unafraid. She belonged to him. Their souls now bound till his last breath. Her enormous snout and violet eyes emerged through the fading smoke of his apparition as he had just arrived.
"Will you follow me across worlds too?"
She heaved a large breath of faithful conviction. It's warmth turned to steam, which the wind manipulated into an angry murmur. It cut against his cold lips like betrayal. It didn't want him to go further, but he had grown accustomed to persevering in the disappointment of the ones he loved most. He would break the heart of the wind to mend the heart of its master.
"Don't," he hissed as he set his mouth into a sneer. The wind beat against his chest. His black coat flailed in the harsh updraft.
I'm doing this to save her. Selfishly, he couldn't bring forth the thought.
Valeria twisted her wide neck to the north, her nightshade-toned scales finding reflection even in the worst of weather. She emitted a tearful squeal in the direction of his true home. He wondered if she could sense her proximity as if his jealousy and the sickness of his heart had forged its own star-jinxed connection to her in tandem with his bond to his dragon.
"Not just yet," he yelled to the skies. "We have unfinished work."
Theo took a horrendously close step to the tip of the bluff. Valeria outstretched her wings in a fresh panic. The wind whistled and pushed against his back in rising fear. The ocean sprayed his neck in a sinister welcome.
"I'll race you?" Theo smirked.
He reached his arms out to match Valeria's stance. He tilted his head to the stars he could no longer see and fell back on his heel, plummeting towards the dark sea.
The seething waves lurched forward like a reaching hand to claim him, but he was gone in a crack. It wailed in fury for failing fate as it crashed into the black rock.
The world bent to his volition, and Theo stepped forward onto the cursed beach. The sand was darkened to the shade of death — fitting as it was a graveyard of sorts. The bones of both prolific and forgotten seers pulverized to sand. Their souls rested beneath within the great cavern just beyond.
He had seen this stretch of earth only once before, when he had pushed the bounds of his time-turner to follow her here and see for himself the workings of the dark magic she had casted upon herself.
She wouldn't speak of it, but he had seen firsthand how she had bled and broke upon these sharp shores, ruining all that they had as the magic tangled and hexed her heartstrings. She had done it though in the hopes of saving him, so it was only right that he saved her in return. She was owed a freed heart; a chance to return to him on her own will if she so wished. How could she not when he could one day say he had quite literally given her the world? A world that would owe him a great deal for breaking its chains too.
Valeria landed behind him, tucking herself tightly upon an outcropping of black, jutted earth that rose from the ripping tides. She blinked slowly and rumbled a worried plea for him to be careful.
Theo turned to face the bluffs. From down below, they towered so high it was if they stretched into the ether beyond. He swallowed any reservations and pressed on. Dahlia's bleached footsteps remained, guiding him towards the entrance of the cavern.
It was nothing more than a shadowed hole in the crook of the cliff. Theo reached a shaking hand into the iridescent blackness, hoping he would be welcomed. After all, he had read in Dahlia's book gifted from Professor Trelawney that only those blessed by the Fates were welcomed within this sacred resting place.
The bone ring shined brightly like a beacon upon his hand as he successfully took a step forward. He grinned similar to that of a winning fox. Whether somehow blessed by the Fates himself or through a hijinks thanks to the essence within Dahlia's ring, Theo had managed to enter the cavern without complications. Dahlia had gifted him the solution without even knowing of the obstacles within his plan. It was as if fate wanted this too.
Theo steadied his thoughts and continued into the hollow of the bluff.
The cavern held the silence of a thousand watchful eyes. It took no journey to find the shallows. He gaped in awe as the cavern widened, revealing its secret. The rock above the pool was luminous with crystallized matter, reflecting stardust and the bindings between life and death; the lightness and darkness.
The pool stood frozen in time. Constellations of old and new written within its depths. No ripple broke its starry, smooth surface upon the rocky shores of the cave. Theo winced and averted his gaze. It was so black and blinding and seraphic, he could no longer imagine how Dahlia had the strength to submerge herself whole if she was not truly born from the same matter, yet she had claimed that it had rejected her. He was everything she wasn't. The darkness balancing her light. There was no hope he would be allowed and accepted within these celestial waters.
He chose to strip himself of his clothing, anyways. He had come too far to give up now. If he took his last breath in these waters, his soul would at least be with her for an eternity along with his cracked heart.
He thought of the old seer from the dragon pits and her spoken riddles. She had told him those made of crystal can be shattered with the opposite or same matter. She had helped him by confirming his own potential theory even though she had verbally refused. It was she who had made him sure of it.
He knew the souls of seers lived and died in an endless cycle, returning to a void of dwelling, such as this one, across the vast expanse. The crystal Dahlia had absorbed from this dwelling and pushed into her very bones had rebirthed her entirely, but what had given Dahlia renewed life could also end it.
Devereaux at least believed so, as he had insinuated Dahlia would only find death amongst the heavens if she attempted to absorb another amplifier — bone or crystal. Theo didn't like the man, but he would be a fool not to listen to him. Devereaux had been equally obsessed with the workings of the seers for far more many years. He had collected decades of research, even after marrying one.
Theo had thought tirelessly on the subject. How could a Fate be killed? He knew that Dahlia's bloodline could be traced to the Fates, which meant — or he hoped — that they were made of the same crystallized bone. The opposite matter of a crystal meant the weapon would need to be amorphous, something entirely structureless that he could possibly wield with his own magic.
He had been briefly stumped until he took a step back and refocused his hunt. He had asked himself what Dahlia might make of the riddle. Then the realization had bloomed.
The world demanded balance, and it was often poetic. These crystals forged within cosmic graves were structures composed entirely of perfectly ordered matter. Dahlia's power was blinding and painfully pure. The opposite and the same would be dark in nature — black matter around its perfect edges. Matter restructured into chaos, and tainted. He had come to steal from the stars; rip another crystal from the Earth and defile it.
Theo stood entirely bare before the starlit pool, as she had. He removed his rings one by one. He set aside an emerald ring that had been gifted to him by his mother after he had been sorted into Slytherin. Next, a silver band that Narcissa had gifted to him after her death. It was engraved with the Rossier House motto when warmed. Finally, he tucked his one remaining signet ring into his coat pocket. The one his brother had left behind all those years ago. Dahlia had the other — the one he had been gifted from birth. Whether she hated or loved him, or something in between, he was glad it was with her. If he died sooner than later, it would be one of the last heirlooms from a treacherous and most cunning house.
He paused on the bone ring from Dahlia. It glowed brightly, almost calling to the liquified stars to return home. He contemplated removing it, as well. The idea of even her essence moving on too left him gutted. It was a piece of her he would always have, no matter what transpired between them.
He sighed, then removed it from his left hand, and his skin ignited with a skin-pebbling cold shiver. He was abruptly aware that he was no longer alone.
A decapitated whisper circled the cavern. "He's of the God's Killer."
He thought he might truly be mad. A crippling fear rendered his heart still for a moment. He nearly trembled as if he were on the cusp of witnessing a miracle, a universal prophecy suddenly laboring to be born.
A collapsed voice of many spoke in a gnarled invitation. It caressed the tip of his ear, yet he did not flinch. "He can be shown the way."
His head nearly fell back in bliss. It was the sweetest taste of dark magic he'd ever known. He closed his eyes, utterly intoxicated. His skin heated, and he was newly aware that the wind didn't blow here. He rolled his tongue against his teeth as the voices roamed up his spine.
"Vengeance." A fingertip dancing across his neck.
"Deliverance." A lip pulling against his cheek.
"Doesn't that make sweet, prince of curses?" It swooned into his ears.
Was this what loving a god was like? Was this her true form?
"Step forth, and you will be shown."
Theo sharply inhaled and opened his eyes. He was without them too soon. His bones now empty and weighted. His heart deflated. He stepped closer to the pool with all reservation lost. He just needed to hear them one more time. Just one more whisper. The pain would be worth it — his life could be worth it.
The pool rippled once from its center with a shifting rumble. Something had arrived.
The water lapped against the furthest touches his skin. He moaned as if Dahlia had licked him from groin to neck. He was no longer afraid. No, this was paradise.
He walked deeper into the cosmic waters, nearly certain he would find eternal heaven. Each new drop against his flesh was euphoric. How could the seer say the water no longer spoke? It was a gentle kiss of all knowledge, an answer to every last question.
Dahlia still loves me, and she always will. My mother hadn't died in vain. It was a universal singularity that shapes my essence in every life. My father loves me tirelessly. My brother loves me, and would die for me in return. I am loved. Painfully loved. I am enough.
The shallow slope came to an end, and Theo plummeted beneath the constellations into the black. A thousand souls screamed in terror, horrified by what he had done. How he had dared to taint these waters. Theo was swiftly being pulled deeper into the cavern's deep by skittering hands. He cried out as they scratched and choked him. They would kill him for what he had done.
"Traitor, traitor, traitor, traitor," they wailed.
Theo realized he had never experienced true terror. This was the pathetic moment where most men would beg and pray for their life to be spared, but Theo wasn't made from the same cloth as most men. He was born one with insanity, and woke up feeling extraordinarily murderous today. They would accept him or perish.
He contorted his hands, fighting the weight of souls. He got his palms close enough to create a ball of emerald light — a repelling charm. He sent it forth beneath the surface in a powerful rage. It exploded around him in silence. All he could hear was the last of his air being expelled in a furious cry.
The souls screeched as his magic descended in a vast, striking wave. They removed their phantom touch as if to cover their ears. He quickly kicked himself to the surface as fast as he could. He needed air, and he needed it now. His lungs throbbed and he had to fight the urge to breath in the depths.
He saw the glowing stars above of the cavernous ceiling. He was going to make it. Almost there. His fingers numbed.
Something jagged broke through the skin of his back. He emerged from the surface, gasping and grunting in pain. It burned. Fuck, did it burn. The waters surrounded him became murky as he sloshed in his own blood. He needed to get to shore.
He roiled in his spite. The whispers had lied. There was nothing to be shown and now he would leave empty handed. They had lured him here to die. He hadn't been deemed worthy enough for their Divine visions or these sacred waters.
Theo spat onto the surface in disgust. His features twisted into a sneer before he dove into the depths once more. This time, staying close to the cavern wall. He kicked downwards, this time forming a curse within his palms. If even one soul was ignorant enough to try him again, they would all suffer the consequences.
"Murderer. Monster. Savage," the voices spat as they wept.
Theo could no longer see in the growing blackness so he brushed his hand against the wall. He felt blissfully sharp edges — crystals. Thousands.
Bodies for binding.
He was bleeding out.
"Take." The loveliest of all the whispers returned.
He obeyed without question. He bellowed as he heaved the crystal from the earth. It broke free from the rock, but before he could take pride, a hand reached from the hole and gripped his neck.
Theo gagged and kicked in a fiery panic. He couldn't properly defend himself without dropping the crystal into the depths. His panic turned to terror as the numerous voices silenced, stilling like prey.
What had previously arrived in a ripple, now cradled his neck for the breaking. He heard nothing but his own struggles as the voices hid. He had freed a beast — a leviathan from the very painting above Dahlia's mantle. He had been blinded by his need to win Dahlia back as quickly as possible. He should have thought better than this; been more patient. He was going to die — he was certain — but that didn't mean he wouldn't fight like a fiend till the end.
He railed against the blackness, kicking and punching at nothing. He felt the hand around his neck tighten. He coughed as he soared towards the surface. Or was being brought deeper into the void?
His magic was rendered useless in the palm of the beast, but he raged on regardless. He was a Nott — he would die fighting till his last breath. No one would easily take his destiny from his cold-blooded hands and bloodied knuckles.
He smashed the crystal against the beast. It pried it from his hand without flinching. Theo cried out in a blind fury until his scream was made real as he broke through the surface of the stars. He finally glimpsed the hand around his neck. It was black as night down to the fingernails, supernatural in nature.
A fresh wave of adrenaline coursed through his body and he attempted to shove the womanly figure away from him.
"Fuck off me!" He hissed, vision blurring.
He was thrown by the neck upon the darkened shore. He cough, gasping for fresh air but was ready to try again — to take another crystal from the depths. He rallied himself, until he saw the midnight hands crawl out of the pool and upon the same shores. It dug its claws into the damp earth as it pulled itself free from the depths.
It was feminine in nature, but completely disguised beneath a shroud of blinding constellations. It heaved in the delicate fabricate as it beckoned oxygen, almost as if it had been depleted of it for a millenia.
Theo remained, dwelling in shock. Terrified to move. He had an overwhelming sense to bow, but he shook it off. He would do so for no one.
The creature groaned stretching its mouth beneath the shroud. It lifted its veil, revealing vile, blood-crusted lips. It reached into its mouth and pulled a black crystal with golden webbing through its lips. Was this the crystal he had pulled from the rock?
A caress against his wettened curls. "Bleed upon it."
The woman of sorts outstretched her hand. The crystal lie between her clawed fingers — talons. Had the beast been the one to rip open his skin?
Theo brushed his hand down the slick of his back — plenty of blood for an offering.
He placed his crimson-covered hand upon the crystal, and through the bindings of blood magic and the scorn of a goddess, a Divine weapon was born from their cradles palms.
As the beast carved a shapeless blade from the crystal and wove mayhem into its perfectly ordered structure, the souls screeched out in a warning to the worlds.
"He hunts. He hunts. He hunts. He hunts. He hunts. "
—
The transfiguration classroom was particularly dreary this morning as the rain pounded against the stone of the castle. It streaked down the stained glass windows high above as if the portraits were weeping.
Draco followed their delicate tears down the towering stone columns below the window panels to the silver bow placed perfectly in the back of Dahlia's hair. She was seated in front of him, laughing and whispering softly with Juliet as they played an origami fortune-telling game beneath the table.
"You'll have a raging affair with Moaning Myrtle in Hagrid's bathroom."
"You'll be impregnated by Tom Riddle's sexy diary," Dahlia murmured.
Juliet coughed to hide her fit of hysterics.
Draco had concluded that absolutely none of these fortunes were in any shape or form of a serious nature.
Juliet move her fingers within the four-pronged origami until she landed on a new fortune. "Snape will give you a front wedgie at the Spring Ball."
Dahlia hid her face behind her hands, turning pink from holding in her laughter. She rested her head on Juliet's shoulder as she turned away from the professor's McGonagall's sceptical gaze as she headed into her office.
Dahlia's eyes met his, tearing with amusement.
"You're ridiculous," Draco mouthed. He smirked slowly. Her happiness was intoxicating and infectious.
"Are you planning on taking her to the ball?" Lucas whispered next to him.
"Well she's not going with anyone else," he quickly replied.
Lucas pushed his golden hair back. He remained sun-kissed even in the throngs of the darkest winters. His tie was always falling loose and his shirt was rarely not disordered. One corner of his mouth raised in a serpent smirk. "Everyone knows you're together. Fess up to it already."
Draco took his eyes off Dahlia for only a moment to glare at Lucas. "I don't owe an explanation to any-"
His attention snapped forward as a chair clawed against the thick ground. He was up in one furious second. The surrounding students gasped as Juliet fell backwards onto the floor, reaching to catch Dahlia's head before it could collide with the hard stone.
Juliet landed with a painful thud on her side, but had been successful in her efforts. She grunted, ignoring her own pain and slid beneath Dahlia's limp frame. Juliet's tears were instantaneous, falling upon Dahlia's greyed cheeks as she held her close between the desks.
His stomach plummeted and his veins caught fire as he registered what was happening. The other students who quickly gathered in a circle. He shoved them aside to kneel by Dahlia. They circled like vultures, as if she had never been anything but a source of entertainment to them.
Draco fought against his nature to lash out in the worst of ways — it wasn't the time and they would all pay soon enough. He chose to focus on Dahlia, where his bitter rage turned into hot panic. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else would ever matter.
"Dahlia..."
Her limbs twitched unnaturally; neck spasming. Her eyelids fluttered while her green irises rolled back in a horrid convulsion.
"No, no, no," Juliet murmured through quiet sobs. She wiped her falling tears from her cheeks as Lucas kissed the top of her braided hair, comforting her the best he could.
Draco wiped Dahlia's forehead, feeling closer to helpless than helpful. He had never seen her like this. When she had touched the vanishing cabinet she had seemed in control of her Sight as she sensed the future with a small touch. Her vision in the woods had been like witnessing a mythical come to power — something entirely different. She was nothing more than a victim to whatever seemed to be possessing her now. Eloise had warned him against touching her in such a state, but he couldn't help but consider it.
His hands shook, hovering just above shoulders.
Juliet' looked to him for guidance with her doe eyes. "Can you help her?" Her whisper was desperate.
"I don't know," Draco answered. It was horribly honest, and had him growing nauseous. "I can try," he nodded.
He sat on the floor and reached behind Dahlia's neck. "Give her to me."
Juliet nodded, giving him permission to bring her body into his lap. Dahlia loosened and stiffened within his arms, as if she were fighting something from beyond.
"She's been cursed!" Lavender Brown cried out in hysterics.
Draco had almost forgotten a crowd hovered above.
Lucas scoffed at the crowd of shocked students.
"Don't just fucking stand around! Get help!"
Draco paid them no mind. He continued to whisper into her ear and focused on the strings of their bond, hoping to pull her home — back to him.
"I love you. Come back to me," he murmured into her ear, cradling her delicately in his arms. "Don't make me burn your gods to bring you home. Come back to me, baby."
Her hands contorted as if she were reaching for her neck. She gasped as if something was choking her. She coughed like she was fighting words.
"Don't fight it. Let it pass," he whispered.
She fell limp once more, eyes closing. McGonagall finally came to their aid after disappearing to gods know where for what felt like hours.
He scowled, noticing her late surprise.
He looked back down, noticing Dahlia had begun to whisper beneath her breath, her eyes moved back and forth beneath the lids as if entranced.
Draco brought his ear to her lips.
"He hunts. He hunts. He hunts. He hunts. He hunts."