BORN TO DIE    ╱    DRACO MALFOY
꒷꒦ · ˚.‧ . written by ella . . . © -lostgardens
062 ━ ❛ the perilous tide of death eaters ❜

"Krum! Krum! Krum-Krum-Krum!" Potter, Lucas, and Weasley were chanting.

It was after the game, and they were now in the tent again, the twin boys celebrating the victory of the Irish team, while the other three raved over the brilliant Seeker despite his team's loss. Olivia sat in one of the cushioned chairs, watching the boys dance around as they continued to chant Krum's name while the twins sang to Irish music. Granger and Ginny sat on the bunks, separate from everyone else, and Mr. Weasley was lighting one of the lanterns with a match, using the fire from the fireplace.

Olivia's eyes were still on the boys, watching them dance about with a small smile on her face. She leaned back in the chair, her arms lazily crossed over her midsection, and she could hear Granger and Ginny laughing. She hadn't decided to sit with them in the bunks because... Well, she didn't have a reason; she just decided not to. A loud noise came from outside, which didn't particularly stand out to her or anyone else since the entire day had been full of loud noises. What did stand out, however, was how quickly Mr. Weasley blew out the match he held and piled out of the tent.

"There's no one like Krum!" Weasley interjected, cutting through his brothers' singing and catching Olivia's attention. She didn't even get a second to think about what Mr. Weasley had run off to check as she watched the redhead boy step up onto the small table so that he stood taller than everyone else in the room.

"Krum?" Fred looked up at his brother. "Dumb Krum?"

"He's like a bird, the way he rides the wind," Weasley continued, his face annoyed with his brother's words but gleaming at the thought of the player he spoke of. Olivia's brows raised questioningly at his choice of words, getting a matching look from Lucas, but neither said anything aloud.

Fred and George then flapped their arms like birds, repeating, "Krum, Krum," in a deep tone, earning a small laugh out of Olivia. The girl just placed a hand over her mouth to stifle it.

"He's more than an athlete," Weasley continued as Fred came up behind him, placing the Irish flag over his shoulders and head. In the same deep tone, the boys added "Dumb Krum," while their brother fought with the flag. Potter just stood off to the side, looking amused, while Lucas moved to sit in the seat next to Olivia. "He's an artist," said the boy with a 'K' painted on one side of his face and a Bulgarian flag on the other after he'd gotten the flag off of him.

"I think you're in love, Ron," Ginny teased, patting his arm with a smile.

Everyone laughed, and he said, "Shut up."

George grabbed onto his brother's hand, guiding him off of his makeshift stage, and he began singing, "Viktor, I love you." And then Fred sang, "Viktor, I do." Then Potter and Lucas joined in, "When we're apart, my heart only beats for you," as the youngest boy stood up from his seat.

The commotion outside the tent grew louder, not sounding like the fun and festive bit it had been for most of the day. Olivia's smile slowly fell off her face as she glanced towards the entrance. Fred was also looking that way, no longer poking fun at his little brother. "Sounds like the Irish have got their pride on," the boy said with a short laugh, not paying attention to how his brothers fought.

Mr. Weasley came running in a second later, telling his sons, "Stop! Stop it!" Olivia's eyes followed him as he got the two to stop hitting one another. Then he turned to Fred, placing his hand on the boy's arm. His eyes, however, were focused on the entrance of the tent. "It's not the Irish." He then moved to Ginny, putting his hand on her wrist, while Olivia and Lucas gave each other worried looks as they quickly stood from their seats. Olivia patted her hand around her body, making sure she had her wand, just in case. When she found it, she pulled it out of her coat pocket and pushed it up her left sleeve, keeping it in place with her hand for easy access. "We've gotta get out of here." His attention went to Potter, whose smile was slowly fading. "Now!"

They left everything in the tent as they rushed out of it, finding nothing but utter chaos. People around them were screaming and shouting, running around, and trying to get away. Olivia heard a man yell about it being Death Eaters, and the already-forming pit in her stomach grew even larger.

"Get back to the Portkey, everybody, and stick together!" Mr. Weasley ordered, his voice growing louder and more stern towards the end. "Fred, George," the man continued, turning to his sons. "Ginny is your responsibility!"

The screams continued, piercing Olivia's ears as she inched closer to Lucas. She pulled on her brother's wrist with her right hand, drawing out her wand with her left, and went towards Potter, who stood around, taking in the scene with a frightened look. Granger shouted the boy's name, catching his attention. He turned around, his shoulder bumping with Olivia's, causing her to wince from the odd, searing pain she felt. It only lasted a second before he was no longer touching her. The three ran towards Granger, with Potter in the front and Olivia and Lucas trailing behind him, her hold still tight around his wrist.

If it was truly Death Eaters, she was not letting her brother out of her sight.

She'd rather die than lose him.

She was pushing through the crowd of people, trying to keep up with the others, but all she could do was Potter. Her hold on Lucas's wrist continued to slip, but she was quick to catch back onto it, keeping him as close as possible. She was pushed and shoved, but she still had her hold on Lucas. She was going to get back to the Portkey where everyone else would be; she was going to get Lucas to safety; and she was going to be fine.

Another push from her right and another shove from her left, and she no longer felt Lucas's skin. She reached for his wrist once more. He was still behind her, of course. But then she felt nothing, and her heart dropped. Quickly, she turned around, trying to catch sight of her brother, but she couldn't see him.

Her eyes darted around as she pushed past people who pushed back in return, causing her to go further backwards rather than forwards like she was trying. She didn't give them any mind. She didn't pay attention to the loud screams and shouts. She just needed to find Lucas. He was behind her; he had to be.

"Lucas!" she called out with no response. And her heart sank a little deeper, and her stomach began to ache. She continued to frantically shove people out of her way. She had to find him. She had to find Lucas. "Lucas!" she yelled again. Still no answer. Her eyes couldn't find him either, and she'd felt her heart begin to race rapidly, more so than it already was, ramming against her chest.

Her head whipped around a few more times, trying to find someone. Anyone that she knew. But all that was around her were the scared faces of wizards and witches she didn't know the names of. She began to run in the opposite direction that she and Lucas had been going, her heart banging against her ribs, her wand clutched tightly in her left hand, and her breathing ragged. A few more pushes and shoves, and she was thrown onto the ground.

Her hands hit the dirt, and so did her bottom, causing her to wince in pain. It was an odd feeling she had at that moment. She felt like sobbing. Her brother was gone; her sight couldn't find him. He was gone, and it was all her fault. He was her responsibility! She was supposed to keep up with him. She was supposed to protect him. Keep him safe. If she had held onto his wrist a little harder, if only she had made him go in front of her instead of dragging him along behind her. She should've done better. She had to do better. It was her fault. He was gone, and it was her fault.

What was going to happen to him? Was he going to get hurt? Or worse?

If something did happen to him, she'd be to blame. Her and her stupidity.

Most of the people who ran past her dodged her presence, but one person, whom she now wanted to curse, stepped on her right hand, causing her to cry out in pain. She cradled her injured hand with the untouched one, keeping her wand in between her fingers, and let out a breath. She needed to get herself together. She wasn't going to find Lucas if she sat on the ground all night and wallowed in self-pity.

With that state of mind, she stood up. The number of people passing her was slowly becoming less and less, but she was still fighting her best through the swarm. The determination to find Lucas was strong in her bones. But as she went to move forward, she felt a hand come around her wrist and her waist, pulling her backwards and into a hard body.

She screamed loudly, flailing her arms and legs. But no one seemed to pay attention to her as she was pulled away from the scene. Her left arm was pinned to her side, and she couldn't lift her wand because of it. The hand not holding her was placed over her mouth, muffling her screams. And she thought it was over. She was going to be killed.

Continuing with her muffled screams into the hand, Olivia was dragged into a tent. The hand was removed from over her mouth, and she inhaled deeply as she was put down. The scent of this lunatic tosser seemed familiar to her.

Mint. Cider-sweet. Firewood. Saltwater taffy.

She quickly whipped around, her eyes narrowing and her face twisted in disbelief as she focused on the familiar blonde hair and cloudy gray eyes. Draco was still clad in his all-black suit, staring at her with wide eyes.

She'd been wrong. She was going to kill him! Not the other way around.

Taking a large step forward, she shoved her hands into his chest. He staggered backwards, giving her a confused look. "What is wrong with you!?" she shouted, staring at him like he'd lost his mind. She pushed him again. "You wanker! I thought you were going to kill me!" She kept hitting his chest with her fists, taking her frustration out.

He didn't seem fazed by it as he fought to grab her arms so she'd stop hitting him. When he captured her wrists, he pulled them down to her sides and moved forward, crowding her space and making up for the distance he added when she shoved him. "Keep your voice down. I don't know if you've noticed, but there are Death Eaters out there," he told her in a low tone.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Yes, I am fully aware," she replied snarkily, but she lowered her voice nonetheless.

"Why were you alone? What happened to Saint Potter and the Weasley clan? Where's Lucas?" He questioned her, ignoring the attitude she had. He seemed worried about her, and Olivia wanted to laugh at him. At his audacity. But nothing was humorous. He had pulled her away from trying to find Lucas, dragged her into a tent as she was quite literally kicking and screaming, and yet still had the nerve to ask her why she was alone. None of it was amusing.

"We got separated," she answered, huffing out a breath. "Now, if you don't mind," she ripped her wrists from his hold, keeping her firm grip on her wand. "I need to go find Lucas."

And with that, she turned, rushing out of the random tent without another word, not caring if he was saying something or had something to say. She was met with the chaos of the night. People continued to scream and run; the fire was still burning brightly, destroying everything in its wake; and she could see the Death Eaters in their long black cloaks, matching pointed hats, and silver masks as they chanted. Olivia ran further into the field, moving past the fallen witches and wizards, ignoring the churning in her stomach at the sight of them as she tried to stay discreet.

"Olivia!" she heard Draco call from behind her in a slightly loud whisper. She ignored him, piling forward as she clutched her wand. But the stupid boy didn't know how to let up, and he grabbed her wrist again before she could get too far.

She swiftly turned to him, giving him a sharp look as she yanked her wrist back. It was the hand that had been stepped on. She rubbed her finger over it, over the cuts from the person's shoe. It was going to bruise; there was no doubt in her mind that it would if she didn't properly heal it soon enough. It might even be broken. But that wasn't what was on her mind.

"What happened?" Draco softly asked, his gaze trained on her hand.

Her eyes found him, and he looked up. The anger over him wasting her time came back to her in an instant. She rolled her eyes and turned away from him. She began walking hastily away, and he followed. She could feel his presence behind her. And then his hand caught her arm yet again. He couldn't seem to take a hint. She faced him, tearing her arm from his hold. She didn't like the feeling his touch gave her. "Just leave me alone," she ordered harshly, seething at him. "I have to find Lucas, and I don't need you to follow me around."

"Olivia..." he muttered as she took off into the crowd of people, going to find her brother.

She didn't hear his words, and she didn't see the devastation on his face. It didn't matter either way. She was sure a certain other Malfoy was involved with this attack in some way or another. Old habits die hard, and she was sure Lucius would be the other to die rather than give up his twisted habits and hobbies. His loyalties.

She hoped Draco didn't become like him but instead learned from his father's mistakes.

Running into the mostly empty field, she moved past more of the fallen wizards and witches, the fire, and destruction, trying to make her way to the Portkey. The hope that Lucas would be there with the others and not one of the dead folks lying on the ground was the only thing on her mind—the only thing she could hold onto that wasn't going to make her lose her mind. She pushed out all of the other thoughts and worries and tried to stay out of sight of the Death Eaters.

It felt like forever she was running, not even noticing how her legs were burning, how fast her heart was beating, or how her heavy breathing made her chest and lungs hurt. She didn't even pay attention to how she could practically smell the dark magic in the air, the strong scent making her nauseous. All she was focused on was finding Lucas. Getting to the Portkey and finding her brother standing with it and the others.

Finally, coming over a familiar hill, she moved down it. And much to her relief, she saw that familiar head of brown curls on that still-growing-taller-with-each-day person. She rushed over to her brother, probably scaring the others because of how dark it was now since the sun had set. He turned just in time for her to wrap her arms around his neck in a tight hug. He hugged back instantly, and she muttered, "I thought you were gone."

They pulled back from one another, and he softly smiled. He had a couple of cuts on his face, but he seemed fine overall, and that helped Olivia's mind settle. "You're not getting rid of me quite yet, Livvy," he told her.

She playfully rolled her eyes, letting out a calming breath, and the stress somewhat fell from her. Then she looked around, her eyes finding the twins, Granger, Ginny, and Weasley. There was just one person missing besides Mr. Weasley and the Diggorys, who she was sure found their own way out of the mess. Her brows furrowed, and she asked, "Where's Potter?"

Granger sighed, seeming understandably stressed. "We were hoping he was with you."

≀⋆⁺₊⋆ ꗃ 𖦹⨳✺

The field was now dead silent, with not a soul in sight besides the ones that lay lifeless on the ground—though some wouldn't consider them souls anymore since they were no longer alive. Olivia didn't know what she considered them. She didn't even want to think of them—the thought of them only being dead because of idiotic, monstrous, vile blood purists—Death Eaters—who got off on hurting those they deemed lesser than them. It made her sick. And the sure fact that Draco's father was mostly one of those people, and how the boy that she... and how Draco was exposed to that was something that made the pit in her stomach even larger.

She, Granger, and Weasley were walking about in search of Potter. They had made Ginny and Lucas stay back for their own safety, and since the twins were responsible for the sister, that meant they stayed back as well. Olivia didn't know why she had followed the two Gryffindors when they'd first come up with the brilliant idea to go back into danger to search for their friend, but she had. The vivid memory of what happened last time she followed two of the three as they went after the third was clear in her mind.

"Harry!" Weasley called out, his voice trembling with worry. "Where are you?"

They continued to search high and low, looking for the boy, but he was nowhere in sight. But luckily, it only took a few more moments before they saw the outline of a familiar boy, and the three of them raced towards him.

"Harry!" Granger shouted, running closer to her friend.

As they came to a stop, Weasley said, "Been looking for you for ages!" Potter turned around to face them, his own expression twisted in fear. Granger placed her hand on his arm, and he turned around quickly to stare at the spot he was in when they first saw him. "Thought you we lost you, mate," the redhead continued, his breathing heavy.

Olivia's eyes cast up at the same time Potter's did, focusing on the sky. "What is that?" he asked, staring up at the green skull with a snake coming from its mouth that was in the sky, reminding Olivia all too much of the carvings of Salazar's head in the Chamber of Secrets, where the Basilisk resided until called upon. She shuddered at the thought. This wasn't that, however. She knew what it was, only having seen it in pictures or drawings or described in real-life stories. It was the Dark Mark—Voldemort's mark.

A weird feeling filled her body and bones, causing her stomach to ache, and the odd tingling feeling she remembered from first year when she swore Snape's contact with her hand had burned her—like she'd felt when Potter bumped her shoulder. She felt lightheaded, stumbling back slightly as the trio in front of her kept their eyes trained on the sky. Potter winced then, bringing his hand to rest on his forehead, where his famous scar was.

Rumbling sounded behind them, causing the four to whip around quickly, only in time to see black smoke from wizards appearing all around them. "Stupefy!" the wizards called out in unison, aiming their wands at the four of them.

Red light beams shot at them from all different directions, and they ducked down quickly. Granger let out a startled scream as they continued, and each of them covered their heads so they wouldn't be hit as they crowded together on the ground. Olivia felt Weasley's arm on her back and shoulder, keeping her close, and usually she would curse the boy for such an act, but she wasn't sure he was even aware that he was doing it. Plus, she wasn't sure it was the right time.

"Stop!" a familiar voice shouted, and the spells ceased. "That's my son!" As the four looked up, their eyes fell on Mr. Weasley, who was racing towards them. They stood as he stopped in front of them, asking, "Ron, Harry, Hermione, Olivia, are you all right?"

"Came back for Harry," Weasley replied, not exactly answering the question.

"Which of you conjured it?" Bartemius Crouch Sr. came into view as he questioned them more accusingly than anything. His wand was pointed at each of the teenagers, waving between them.

Olivia just rolled her eyes.

"Crouch, you can't possibly—" Mr. Weasley tried to defend them.

The man ignored him and continued pointing his wand between the four of them, letting it linger on each for a second, not knowing which one was to blame. "Do not lie!" he ordered, and the distant sound of an apparition snapped. "You've been discovered at the scene of the crime."

"Crime?" Potter asked.

Two people came running towards the group, causing Ministry wizards to direct their wands at them. "Crouch, please remove your wand from in front of my daughter's face," the stern voice of Olivia's mother said, seeming almost calm as she stopped beside Mr. Weasley. Olivia just sighed, knowing that the woman did not actually care.

Mr. Weasley glanced over at Clodagh at the same time Crouch did, raising his brows, and Olivia was sure she saw the man shudder. He then turned back to Crouch, his expression twisted and his eyes gleaming pleadingly. "Barty, they're just kids."

Olivia felt her mother tug her closer to her side, which she subtly fought against. Keeping her focus on Potter, she watched his confused face as he questioned the man further. "What crime?"

"It's the Dark Mark, Harry," Granger whispered to the boy, her eyes glancing to the sky with fear swirling in her gaze. She focused on Potter again. "It's his mark."

"Voldemort?" asked the famous boy.

Olivia boredly rolled her eyes, no longer in the mood. The fun of the World Cup was over. She stepped forward to stand in between Crouch and Potter with her arms crossed over her chest and her left hand still clutching her wand. "Yes, Potter, Voldemo—"

No one noticed the faint whisper of the killing curse from behind them before it was too late. And no one saw the stream of green light that came Olivia's way, cutting off her words and hitting her square in the back, before it was too late. It happened so suddenly, before anyone could react, blink, or even catch a glimpse of the person who cast the spell before they disapparated.

The girl fell to the ground on her hands and knees, a strange sensation coursing through her body as her mother gasped and fell to her side. A hand was placed on her back, and she felt cold, like she had when she'd been suffering the effects of an infected wound during her second year. Then there was a hot flash, and she was back to being cold. She felt the darkness run through the blood flowing in her veins, coming back up to the surface. And she coughed, like she had that infectious time as well, throwing up black blood onto the dirt.

She coughed and coughed and coughed as the commotion around her picked up. The black, thick sludge that escaped her mouth pooled on the ground as everyone stared down at her. "Olivia," she heard her mother say faintly. "Olivia Katherine, get up."

Was she dead?

No, she couldn't be. But was she?

She didn't think she was. If she were dead and had met peace, her mother surely wouldn't be there with her.

Perhaps she hadn't met peace but instead went down under. That would explain her mother's presence.

No, she wasn't dead, but she felt close to it.

Her gaze met her mother's icy blue eyes, and she felt the woman's cold hand rest on her face, studying her thoroughly.

"Did she just..." Weasley muttered. "Was she hit with..."

Crouch stepped forward. "Clodagh?"

Olivia's mind was hazy, but she slowly brought herself up from the ground with the help of her mother. She was held close to the woman's side as she found everyone staring at her, all with wide-eyed, confused looks on their faces. She didn't blame them.

"She was just hit with the killing curse! And she's still alive!" Weasley practically shouted when what had happened finally hit him, causing Olivia to wince at his loudness and everyone else's gaze to find him. Olivia slowly found his red hair and scared eyes as he stared at her. Their eyes met, and he quickly looked away, like she was about to curse him, focusing on all of the others. "Why are you all acting so calm!? She was just hit with the killing curse, and she's still alive!" he repeated even louder this time with a toss of his hands in her direction, trying to get his point across.

They didn't seem calm, but more confused and frightened than anything.

"No one speaks of this," Crouch ordered.

Olivia hunched over, holding her hair back, as she began puking some more black blood, coughing and heaving along with it. Everyone stared at her with disgust and wide eyes, clouding over the confusion about how she was still alive. Potter was the only one known to survive the killing curse, due to the love and protection of his mother, but Olivia knew that wasn't the case for her. Merlin forbade it, but her mother was still standing alive and well next to her, as was her father. There was no love or protection there.

"Those people tonight, in the masks, they're his too, aren't they? His followers?" Potter inquired, looking at Mr. Weasley.

The redhead man nodded, his gaze on the boy. "Yeah." Then he turned to Crouch, who still had his wand raised at the Golden Trio. "Death Eaters," he elaborated.

Crouch gave him a side glance, the severity of the situation finally coming to him. Olivia felt her father's hand on her shoulder as he stood her up straight, handing her his handkerchief. She clumsily took it, ignoring how her mother rubbed circles between her shoulder blades. She wiped her mouth, somewhat ridding her face of the black sludge.

"Follow me," Crouch instructed the wizards behind him. He looked at Clodagh and Andrew, who stood on either side of their daughter; his wand gestured towards them and then to Olivia. "Again, no one can know of this." He looked at Mr. Weasley and the trio. "No one speaks of this."

Perhaps Weasley had been right. Perhaps they were acting too calm over this.

The man wearing a bowler hat turned to leave with his fellow Ministry wizards when Potter stepped forward. "Um, there was a man," he informed as the man stopped and turned to face him again, "before." He paused, pointing his finger behind where the man whom he spoke to stood. It was also where the curse that had been so graciously sent to Olivia had come from. "Uh, there!" He then glanced at Olivia. Her parents were holding her up straight, as she was too weak to stand on her own. "He's probably the one who did this to Olivia." He focused back on Crouch.

"Would've been nice to know before, Potter," Olivia said, her voice strained and raspy.

"All of you, this way!" Crouch ordered the other Ministry wizards, and then they walked off.

"A man, Harry?" Mr. Weasley said quietly. "Who?"

"I would also like to know," Olivia added, coughing profusely.

"Stop speaking," her mother told her.

The boy turned around, facing his friends and Mr. Weasley once more. "I don't know." He paused as Granger breathed heavily, and everyone who was still there watched him closely. "I didn't see his face."

"Wonderful," Clodagh sighed.

And then they all focused on the sky, staring up at the infamous, glowing green mark that let out a loud hiss. Olivia winced with pain at the sound, her brain pounding against her skull. She still felt cold and weak, leaning further into her mother, which was something she'd usually wouldn't do, but she'd almost died, so this once would be passed off because of that.

She'd almost died.

≀⋆⁺₊⋆ ꗃ 𖦹⨳✺

Lucas assisted Olivia as she walked through the doors of their manor. Their parents were in front of them. She was still weak from the killing curse. The one that she somehow survived? That was still an unanswered thought in her mind, but any time she pondered it for too long, she felt as if her brain was on fire.

Bobbin and Trinky rushed over to them, looking worried. Clodagh faced the house elves, running a hand over her forehead to relieve the stress on her brow. "Heal Olivia and give her a Dreamless Sleep potion. She was hit with dark magic, so she'll need something for that too," she instructed the house elves, who nodded, and then she faced her daughter. "Rest up. Tomorrow, we will work on your defense. You need to learn how to be more alert and quicker when dueling," she told Olivia, then turned around.

"Are you just going to ignore how I almost died?" Olivia called out, her voice still raspy.

Clodagh slowly turned around and stopped in her tracks. "What do you mean?"

Olivia's brows furrowed. "I was hit with the killing curse," she reminded her mother, as if the woman had already forgotten despite how she had just mentioned the dark magic. Knowing how little she cared, she probably had—blocked it out of her mind as soon as she was done with her orders. Bobbin and Trinky gasped at the mention of such a curse, placing their hands over their mouths. They'd known it was dark magic, but not the incantation from which it had come.

"You heard what Crouch said; we're not to speak of this," the woman retorted. "So drop it."

"But—"

"I said drop it, Olivia Katherine!" Clodagh's voice grew so loud that the two house elves at her daughter's side whimpered in fear, stepping closer to the injured girl. She took in a calming breath, closing her eyes for a moment, and turned back around, her shoes clicking against the floors.

"Clodagh," Andrew muttered, following his wife as she made her way towards the study. And before anything else was said between the couple, the door was closed, blocking out their children and the two house elves from hearing anything.

Olivia let out a ragged breath and felt a tug at her hand. She looked down, only to see the big eyes of Bobbin staring up at her. "Is Miss Olivia all right?" she asked, her voice shaky with concern.

Simply nodding, Olivia offered a small, not-as-reassuring-as-she-wanted-it-to-be smile and mumbled, "Yes. I'm fine." She just stared back at Bobbin and Trinky as they stared back at her for a moment, not paying mind to the worried gaze her brother was giving her. Then she began moving forward, with Lucas stepping along with her. She stumbled a bit, her brother quick to keep her upright, and she let out another annoyed breath.

It was a slow process to make her way to the stairs, but she did it with the continuous help of Lucas. Bobbin and Trinky trailed behind them, the magic at their bony fingertips ready to help the girl they'd practically raised. She didn't know how her mother expected her to be well enough to practice dueling the next day. Did she really believe that simple healing spells and a Dreamless Sleep potion would help her?

It had to; otherwise, Olivia would hear an earful.

She was led to her room, where she sat on the edge of her bed. Lucas lit the candles placed around her room to give them some light while Bobbin and Trinky got to work, and then the boy sat in Olivia's desk chair, watching them closely.

They started with her hand, an easy fix. A few bones were cracked, but it wasn't anything major. The bones were mended and the cuts healed, then they wrapped it to keep it from getting reinjured. Next, they healed the cuts on her face, as well as banished the remnants of the drying black blood on her chin and in her mouth. Then they moved onto the main issue—the effects of the usually deadly curse. They gave her a blood-replenishing potion for all that she had thrown up and some cookies to go with it to settle her stomach. And then another potion that they didn't tell her the name of. The taste of it was just the same as what Pomfrey had given her for the infection. There was dark magic coursing through her veins still, but Bobbin assured her that it would work its way out in the matter of a few days. And finally, a late dinner was brought to Olivia, which she picked at, not really having an appetite, before she was given the sleep potion.

Lucas had wanted to stay in her room to make sure she'd be alright, but she refused, practically having to kick him out. He eventually left and went to his own room, quite reluctantly. Bobbin and Trinky cleaned up everything from their caretaking and blew out the candles before they followed the boy out.

It didn't take long for the potion to work on Olivia. She laid her head on her soft pillow, tucking her wand under it and snuggling close to Mr. Snake and under her duvet and sheets. Then she was out like a light. And for the first time in a while, she slept with a completely blank and peaceful mind.

If only that would have lasted forever.

≀⋆⁺₊⋆ ꗃ 𖦹⨳✺

━━━━ ella's speaking !
okay... so there is a reason on how and why olivia survived the killing curse, i promise! i swear this isn't one of those fics where the main character is just this all-powerful (or overly powerful) person for no reason, so bear with me on this because it will be explained at some point !!

n e ways, i'm so excited for the rest of act four, y'all have no idea!

make sure to comment and vote 🫶🏻

kisses.

━━━━━━━━━━ born to die,
© -LOSTGARDENS, mar 2024

word count: 5763. written: 2.22-25.24. published: 3.13.24.