The Darker Side of the UniversePairing:
the beautiful side of evilRating:
Everything changed then. She just couldn't see it at the time.Author's Notes:
A series of ficlets and drabbles all related to the same universe, where the Dark Lord still lives.Link to Prompt Table: Table
She finds the note one night, neatly folded and placed on the lower right hand corner of her working desk. For a moment, her hand hovers above the letter before she draws it back. She has no doubt that it was written by him.
To: Hermione Granger
The neat handwriting is too familiar.
Slowly, she reaches for the letter again. She feels a slight chill run up her spine as her fingers touch the thick parchment. Like with all other written materials, she unfolds the letter with utmost care. She slips in her wooden chair. The letter’s contents stare silently from below.
“Stay indoors; stay safe for me.”
The words echo in her mind, spinning little spirals. She rereads the words on the page, touches the ink lightly with the tip of her fingers. The ink hasn’t dried yet. There are little black marks all over the rest of the paper.
Then she refolds the letter and places it at the very back of the desk’s upper right drawer.
She doesn’t follow the words on the letter.
Raging red and blue sparks whip around her ears. She dodges once, twice, but then the last hit manages to land on her chest. She stumbles back and is surprised when she feels hands around her shoulders.
She gets pulled somewhere, away from the battlefield, before she hears—
“What are you doing here? I thought I said—Hermione, you’re—” He sighs and says something under his breath that Hermione can’t quite catch.
She pokes a finger at his chest with enough strength to bruise. “Gone for five months Theo.”
He shrugs. His face looks older, marred by a little scar under his left jawbone and the bruises around his cheeks.
“What were you doing with all that time?” she demands with her bossy tone that is well-practiced and honed from years of being friends with Harry and Ron.
He looks at her and slowly brings his hand to her cheek. It feels cold, but she says nothing. When he speaks, it’s almost a whisper. “What do you think?”
She feels her heart run cold and opens her mouth to start her protest. He stares at her. He raises an eyebrow, as if to show her how ridiculous she’s becoming. She muses that it does not match the sadness in his eyes. The moment is ruined when a loud noise forces Hermione to stumble forward. Her head crashes into Theo’s chest.
“Are you okay?” he asks. She knows the underlying meaning behind the words, understands that he isn’t asking if she managed to obtain a wound so easily from today’s battle.
She straightens her chin and looks directly at his face. “Are you?”
He frowns, “I think you should worry about yourself—
He stops talking when she grabs his left arm. She gently pulls up his sleeve. Her hand freezes at the familiar sight of a skull entwined with a black snake.
“You’ve become a Death Eater.” Now she’s frowning too, hissing her disapproval.
He stares at her strangely.
“Why?” She claws at his arm. “Why are you—Theo—I thought—
All her thoughts die prematurely at her throat.
She realizes numbly that he’s laughing at her. She’s heard it so many times, but never with today’s coldness. Finally, she musters her voice. “What’s funny?”
When he speaks, he uses his lover’s voice. It is soft and boyish and Theo, but she can’t sense the warmth at all. It brings an uncomfortable chill.
He says something that she doesn't understand, something about the beauty of evil.
All the happy moments are fading, she thinks. The man in front of her is strange and foreign. She does not understand his words so she shakes her head.
“No. I don’t.”