CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:
INTO THE DARKNESS

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        There came a nightly routine to everything. It started in the kitchen, just sitting there for at least an hour or two just drinking one bottle together as they barely spoke. She didn't want to speak, hear anything else because then she wouldn't sleep. It would plague her mind, everything he had told her about the mission – about what he had to do. She hated it, so they didn't talk. But then it came to where he didn't show it until half the bottle was gone and he didn't talk about it, he didn't say a word, and she never questioned him.

         Then she did. There were too many questions in her mind and she had to question him, ask everything she wanted to about the situation and he told her. He had a mission to do, and everything waking moment he had not spent on school was spent trying to fix that fucking Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Requirement because he had to. Because he was scared they would kill his parents.

         And then the routine changed. They would meet in the kitchen, take a bottle, and head to the room and he would work as she would try and help. She hated it. It was terrible, she shouldn't have been doing it. Amandla knew that, knew that it was wrong and she was helping the people she never wanted to become. But it was for family, it was Draco and she couldn't just let him drown under the pressure. She had to help, even if he didn't admit he needed it. He didn't want her help, but he needed it. Emotionally, mentally...he needed her help, so she would be there for him.

         Because he was falling. He was falling fast and he was growing paler, sicker, and there were bags under his eyes and he never looked happy anymore. There were very few times she had seen her cousin happy in the last few years, but now it seemed he had forgotten that happiness was an emotion. Forgotten that the word existed and everything because he didn't feel it anymore. But what was there to feel happy about? Nothing. Not for him anyways.

         So she was blinking, and there was a bottle in her hand as she sat at the table that had appeared for her and she was watching her cousin mutter all the spells he could to fix the fucking cabinet before taking an apple and placing it in there. Every time, though, he was failing. Amandla shouldn't be happy about that happy not fixing it could mean the deaths of her aunt and uncle, but she couldn't help it. Not fixing it meant more time, meant that Dumbledore wasn't about to die.

         Sip.

         He let out a frustrated huff, tugging at his hair a little as a strand fell out. "You're losing hair," Amandla muttered, "That's not a good sign."

         A humorless laugh escaped his lips, "I don't care about a few strands of hair if it means that I'll fix this."

         Sip.

         "Sit down, Draco, you need a break," Amandla coaxed, "It's been about an hour since your last one. It won't hurt anyone."

         "Amandla, if I don't finish this they'll die," Draco snapped, "They'll die and it'll be my fault, and I'll have to live with that forever. I'll die knowing that they're dead because of me, that because I didn't work fast enough...they died."

         Amandla sighed, "But you'll kill yourself if you don't stop stressing. Take a small break, you need it. And then you can get back to hurt. Please...for me."

         He turned towards her, "I don't want to do this either, but I want them to live. I want to know that I'm not responsible for their deaths – that I didn't have to see it. Because I know – I know – that I'll have to see them die...and I-I won't be able to handle that."

         She felt like crying. Dead parents, yeah, she knew a lot about that. She had seen the faces of her own only hours after their deaths, the fear in their eyes as their wands were in their hands, ready to fight but they didn't. They didn't fight. And again, she thought of her mother and that stupid spell book. She had to have known about the counter-curse, she had too, yet she didn't use it. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

         Swing. Not sip, but a whole gulp.

         "They won't die. Not today or tomorrow, anyways," Amandla blinked away the tears, "Now sit down, please."

         Draco nodded mutely, sitting down next to her and roughly taking the bottle from her hand and taking a large gulp for himself. She didn't blame him, he needed it more than she would ever need it. Her parents weren't at stake. But how could they? They were dead.

         "This...this and Dumbledore," Draco shakily said, "That's what they want. This to work and him dead, and I can't get this done. But...but what if I already kill Dumbledore? It would be easier, and at least then they know I'm working. I could buy more time."

         "Draco, no. Don't," she pleaded, "Please don't. And how could you? Surely they won't let you just walk into his office and kill him! Just, please, don't think like that."

         He shook his head, "It needs to happen – it will happen. I know that you and your parents were able to escape, but we won't. I can't leave now, my parents can't leave now."

         "Yes you can! You can leave, fake your death, and run! America, France, anywhere you want to go! And I can meet you during summer!" Amandla looked at him with a sad, longing expression. She just wanted him to be alright, she didn't want him to become a murderer.

         "And what happens if I do? They won't stop, this won't end anything. Someone else...they'll find someone else here and give them the same mission that I have, and then they'll be the murderer – they'll have the guilt," Draco said, "They only gave it to me because of my father. The same I used to praise, think was a fucking god or something, and now because of him I have to do all this. I'm the one protecting him. If I fail, he dies. And yet I still won't let myself fail."

         "Because of your mother," Amandla softly concluded, "You can't let her die. And like you said, if you fail, someone else will succeed. This won't end with you."

         Draco nodded, "I know, but I wish it did. I wish it were that simple; that I could just run and no one else would have to become what I ran from. And I wish that I were selfish enough to let that happen, that I could allow myself to run to Paris or anywhere and live a good life, but I wouldn't be able to."

         "I know. I know that now," Amandla took another sip, she needed one, "I wish that you could leave too."

         He turned to her and brought her into a hug. She brought her arms around him and allowed him to have comfort from her because that was what he needed, and she would always be there. This was out of routine, but she didn't care. If he needed a hug, she would be there for him. And she allowed her eyes to close as she sunk into the hug, and squeezed him tightly as he breath stilled for a moment. And it was nice and peaceful, there was nothing else in that moment besides them. It was as if there was no mission, no murder coming in the future, just them. And that was all. There was quiet and comfort and she allowed herself to think again that everything she was doing was good.

         She was helping the enemy but for a good reason; for her cousin right there who was falling apart because all of the weight on his shoulders from everything he had to hold together. In front of others, he was cold and collected, he was strong and prideful and would never need to be comforted. But this was happening now and all he needed was a hug and to know that he was loved through everything bad deed he was committing.

         But Amandla needed something too. She needed to know that her deeds were good, even when they weren't. Because never in a million years could this be considered good; knowing about a murder, a conspiracy, and not telling anyone just because she wanted to protect and help her cousin. She didn't want her aunt and uncle to die, no matter what they had done to her, and she didn't want Draco to hold any guilt in his heart that she had.

         Because she had guilt, so much guilt. Guilt because she had kept all these secrets, still keeping the secrets, guilt because she was doing this – helping the enemy – all for him. All for family. This was something her parents never wanted. They never wanted her to help them, to become them, and here she was now. Here she was helping the people that killed her parents, and yet she was still trying to convince herself that she had a good reason for doing so. To help her family, to help her cousin, even though she was falling deeper into the darkness that was never wanted for her.

         And she was letting herself fall because it was easier to sink than to swim. Feeding into that, pulling her down more, Draco's small voice rang through her ears, "Thank you for staying, Amandla. Don't ever leave me...please."

         How could she fight against that? She pulled him closer and muttered a promise that was sure to destroy her, "Never."

―

         Her eyes lit up at the sight of the socks in the store. She usually didn't have money, seeing as she didn't have a job and Anastasia didn't usually give them any money, but now she did because Caesar and coaxed his mother into giving her and Cevira some money for Hogwarts. And the first place she went to was Gladrags Wizardwear, a place you could find many crazy socks. And if there was one thing Amandla loved, it was just that.

         There were socks that glowed in the dark, though they were quite plain, and ones with dancing ladies. There was another with a broomstick, though she suspected that this was more for Quidditch lovers, and another with a Snitch – definitely for Quidditch lovers. If she were better friends with him, maybe she would get a pair for Harry, but she suspected that he might not even like socks that much. Cevira didn't, she liked cozy jumpers more, and Corey always rolled his eyes at the thought of them.

         ("Honestly, Amandla, you could spend your money somewhere else instead of wasting it on fucking socks!" he would roll his eyes.)

         But Amandla liked socks. They were nice, and that was basically the only things her parents would get her for her birthday and Christmas. Not that she minded, she tended to lose her socks easily, and now she liked buying them because they reminded her of the two she had lost years ago. And she didn't mind the fact that not many others had the same love for the wonderful socks because it was her thing. She liked having her own thing.

         But she now had a dilemma. There was a cute pair with snowy owls, which she loved, and another with black cats. Both were lovely, and she loved both animals, and she didn't know which one to buy. She really only had money for one pair and then a butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks and she didn't want to leave without a pair because she couldn't decide. Now Amandla was pouting because she really wanted both and she didn't know which pair to buy.

         "Are you ready to leave yet, Amandla?" she heard Cevira's voice call after her, "Because I'm ready for a drink."

         A drink. She never really had a drink before, not Cevira. Not one with alcohol that gave her a buzz and left all her worries behind. Shit. Her addiction was getting out of hand – but just a little now. She could still control it...right? Shit. She needed to stop drinking, but she couldn't. Amandla liked how the liquor made everything a little fuzzy and how her mind didn't have to properly comprehend anything.

         "Almost," Amandla smiled, "I just don't whether to get the pair with owls or cats."

         "Really?" Cevira rolled her eyes and Amandla nodded, "Get the owls – the base color will look better with uniforms and you probably won't get detention for not being in dress code."

         With a smile now on her face, Amandla placed the pair with cats back on the rack and walking to the register, "Thanks, Cevira. You're a lifesaver."

         "I get told you which pair to get," Cevira muttered confused, standing in line with her as she paid for the socks with the coins Anastasia had given her.

         After paying, the two of them walked out, Amandla still with a smile on her face, and towards The Three Broomsticks. It didn't take them long to reach the place as they swung open the doors and went to take a seat at an empty table near the back. Amandla could see Hermione and her friends there, though they were staring at something behind her.

         Before she could turn her head, Cevira asked, "Want me to go up and get us drinks?"

         She nodded, "Yes please, and I'll pay you back later, don't worry."

         Cevira shook her head as she stood up, "That's not necessary. I didn't buy anything today, nothing good at Scrivenshaft's today. Well, nothing that I didn't already have. Be back in a second!"

         And she was gone before Amandla could protest. Then, she turned her head back to see Ginny Weasley and Dean Thomas snogging each other. Well, wasn't that a sight. Not one she wanted to see either, but now she had.

         Wrinkling her nose, she turned back at around the same time Cevira placed down the two drinks and took her seat again. "There you go!"

         "Thank you," Amandla smiled and took a sip, savoring the butterscotch taste of the drink, "Hm, this is so good!"

         Cevira giggled, "I know, I know. And what's got you looking so disgusted?"

         "Oh, Ginny and Dean are snogging back there, don't you see?" she pointed her head towards the area they were at, "It's a little uncomfortable, you know, seeing them just going at it without a care for anyone else."

         "Oi! You would be doing the same thing with Granger if you could – and don't even try and deny it because we both know that's the truth," Cevira exclaimed.

         Amandla turned scarlet, "Shut up, Cevira, it's never going to happen anyways."

         "Well of course it isn't, not with that attitude!" Cevira rolled her eyes, "You need to have more confidence if you're ever going to have a chance with her! Show her that you really mean it and everything, I've heard that works in hetero relationships, so what's the difference with you and Granger?"

         "The difference is that Hermione is straight and fancies Ron – a lot, if you wanted to know," Amandla pointed out, "Was all jealous when Lavender Brown flirting with him and everything, though I don't think she was actually flirting with him."

         "There you go! Get Lavender with Ron, comfort Granger and then strike!" Cevira smiled, "She'll be yours and everyone will be happy."

         "I-I can't do that, that's not right," Amandla shook her head, "If I strike while she's vulnerable, I'll be taking advantange of her and that's wrong, Cevira."

         "Well of course I don't mean when she's all mopey and heartbroken, but when she's feeling better and back to her ole Granger self again, duh," she rolled her eyes, "You're right about that; it is wrong."

         Amandla scoffed and shook her head, seeing Draco walk out of the pub in a hurry. Curiosity overtook her and she was tempted for a moment to flee after him, but refrained herself from doing so. That wouldn't end up good, she couldn't do that. Not with Cevira right there, smiling at her and concocting plans for her and Hermione – not that they would actually happen.

         "Nope," Amandla disagreed, "She'll end up Ron, and I think it's better that way. She won't want me even if she was gay."

         "Why not? You're a great catch; a beauty, funny, and great at listening but will talk for you if you don't feel up to it. And don't get me started on how loyal you are to your friends. See; you're a catch!" Cevira listed off.

         "But, Cevira, you've got to think about my family – my past," Amandla looked into her eyes, "Nobody wants me because of that."

         Cevira looked straight into her eyes and sternly said, "Amandla, I want you. I don't care about who your parents were pledged to before they ran off or what your background is because you're different. You chose different from them; you're good. And if Hermione can't see past that, then she isn't worth it, alright?"

         Whelp, would you look at that? Cevira just lodged another arrow into her heart because of the guilt. She was keeping secrets again from her friend; she wasn't being good. She was being terrible, helping the enemy that Cevira thought she was against (she was, but still) and now she was praising her. Amandla didn't deserve to be praised, she was helping the enemy by helping Draco! But she couldn't stop, she promised Draco that she would never leave him, and she intended on keeping that promise.

         But Amandla nodded anyways and cracked a smile, "Thanks for that, Cevira."

         "Anytime," the Asian girl smiled back, gulping down her butterbeer, not intending on savoring the sweet flavor. Amandla giggled at that and drank hers as well, and soon enough, it was all gone.

         Instead of staying there any longer, because Hogsmeade did get boring after years of searching through the town and they did have schoolwork to catch up on, the two girls got up and left a top before leaving the building.

         As they stood outside, a body collided with Amandla, sending her into Cevira who stabilized her. And of course, it just had to be Corey Lovegood himself. "Sorry," he muttered, leaving quickly without another word.

         Amandla looked at him hurt, as did Cevira. It seemed that he didn't care for them anymore, even though they had been friends for so long. Cevira shook her head, "So rude, not even staying to see if you were alright or anything."

         "He didn't mean to run into me, Cev," Amandla muttered softly, knowing that her friend was only speaking so harshly to cover up the pain she felt because of Corey.

         "Still," Cevira rolled her eyes, "And not to mention the fact that he hasn't even spoken to us this year! I mean, I sit beside him during Arithmancy and we're partners for a project, but he still barely speaks to me. It's quite rude, really, just nodding at everything I'm saying and only speaking when he wants to argue with an idea of mine."

         "But you don't hate him, do you?" Amandla asked, knowing that if anyone else did this would be practically being skinned alive.

         "You're right, I don't," Cevira huffed, "But I should. I should hate him for throwing away our friendship like it was nothing and not even telling us why. And it's not like there's a clear reason; I haven't seen him hanging around anyone else that would explain his absence, and it's honestly driving me mad. Because I don't know if I did anything wrong, and he's just acting so cold now.

         "But I should hate him because of this, but I can't. Unlike him, I can't throw away our friendship. I can't throw away the amount of times you two have comforted me over Caesar, but he can. And I hate that – that's what I hate, how easy it was for him to leave us," Cevira wiped away a tear, "Because it just leaves with all these questions that I know will never get answered."

         "I'm sorry," Amandla automatically said, even though it wasn't her who had done anything wrong, "I shouldn't have said anything, really."

         Cevira shook her head, "It's fine, honestly, you didn't mean anything by it."

         And they were walking down the bridge back to Hogwarts when they heard a scream and saw someone rise six feet up into the air. Her hair was thrashing violently in the wind but her mind held nothing; like she was in a trance. And then the girl in the air screamed a horrid screech. Harry and Ron, who were behind the two girls, took her ankles and the girl in the air immediately fell to the snow.

         "I warned her! I warned her not to touch it!" the girl's friend exclaimed out of shock and fear.

         Amandla saw a package in the snow, torn, probably what the girl had touched. "Harry, she's swallowing her tongue –" Ron said.

         "I'll get someone –"

         "There's no time!" Harry cut Hermione off as large figures came running onto the scene.

         "Get back! All o' yeh!" Hagrid commanded the students watching the scene, "Now, now. Now, now..."

         He calmed the girl who was once in the air down before looking at the surrounding students, "Don' go touchin' tha' but by the wrappin's. Unnerstan'?"

         They all nodded, and a sickening thought dawned on Amandla. She looked some ways over, almost missed the figure to be honest, looking at the scene before leaving in a hurry like before. It was Draco, staring with a grim expression before he continued to leave, escaping back to the castle. And she knew then, she knew that he was completing the only part of the mission that he could; he was trying to kill Dumbledore. The package was meant for Dumbledore, but she wasn't the one who touched it.

         And Amandla gulped, eyes glossing over with fear and sadness as she looked back at the scene. She wouldn't say a word; she couldn't say a word as she swore to protect her cousin. And maybe this would send her to hell, but it was already decided to stay quiet. They didn't need to know, no one did, except her and Draco what just happened there.

         And she felt herself sinking deeper into the darkness.