'if you had really loved something,

wouldn't a bit of it always linger?'

[susan orlean]

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Several weeks passed—and Adeline felt worse than ever.

Every day since she had first been brought to this cell, the death eaters had given her a potion to fatigue her magic and thereby restrain her from using it to break out. And it had worked—as any amount of energy she had was never enough to transgress the sluggishness of her powers.

Only lately, they had been doubling the amount given to her; one at dawn, one at dusk. This led to Addie randomly fading in and out of consciousness for weeks; every day seemed to blur together. She would wake randomly—sometimes in her cell in the dark, sometimes in the middle of a training session with Dabria in control of her body.

This was one of those times.

She became conscious after god-knows how long. In front of her was a muggle—different from the last one she remembered—chained to a chair in the middle of the room.

Addie looked around Dabria's peripheral vision at the room. Her head was angled to the right, so it was difficult to make out exactly what the small pile to the left of the room was—Addie settled on it being a lot of dark fabric. To the right side, where Dabria was looking, there was a new, see-through wall that a few death eaters stood behind, presumably as a protective measure.

One of the death eaters, whom Addie didn't recognise, called over;

"The spell is Avada Kedavra—"

"I know!" Dabria responded sharply and rose her hand to the muggle before her, who quivered in his seat. He looked just as scared, just as vulnerable, as the last one that had nearly been hit with the Cruciatus Curse.

Addie tried to move Dabria's hand the way she had last time—but already found herself fading back into unconsciousness. She struggled to stay focused on the moment; to remain present; to gain back any sort of control.

Her vision began to darken, and the voices around her became incoherent and distant and fuzzy—and then, Dabria's lips moved with the curse, and a vivid green light shot from her palm, hitting the muggle squarely in the middle of their chest.

The person's arms dangled helplessly, and their head slumped; lifeless. Addie felt a wave of nausea wash over her shock as she spotted a bright red circle drawn on the muggle man's shirt, exactly where the killing curse had struck him.

This was target practice.

She felt sick.

But what escalated her horror was the way one of the death eaters—wearing a smug smirk, having succeeded in this training session—sauntered over and undid the chains still binding the muggle's unmoving limbs. He then used his wand to levitate the man and move him to the pile of dark fabric on the left side of the room.

Except, as Dabria turned her head in its direction, Addie found that it wasn't a pile of fabric—it was a pile of bodies in worn, holey, dirty clothes. Motionless bodies slumped against one another.

This couldn't be happening. But it was.

Dabria winced and put a hand to her stomach. The death eater looked at her questionably as he brought over another shackled muggle from a cage in the corner of the room.

"It's the girl," Dabria said, and actually laughed a little bit. "Somebody doesn't like what she's seeing."

And then everything went dark.

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Addie groggily opened her eyes as she felt the clink of chains tightening around her wrists; the metal digging into her skin. She felt dizzy as she looked up—the room seemed to sway around her, until it stilled, and she was met with the sight of Christine kneeling before her.

Addie tried to move away, but the Lestrange had already roughly grasped the side of her face and put an all familiar goblet to her lips; letting the potion pour into Addie's mouth until she had no choice but to swallow it. Her face scrunched up as the sour, disgusting taste filled her senses as the thick, chunky liquid moved down her throat until Christine finally moved the goblet away once it was all gone.

Keeping a stony gaze, Addie looked away; refusing to acknowledge the Lestrange before her. An immeasurable guilt simmered through her bones, similar to after Sirius was killed, as Addie thought about the muggles she had inadvertently killed. All she could see in her mind's eye were their scared faces; their pleading, weary eyes. The pile of bodies on the floor. Distraught, she felt like crying—but no tears fell. Her eyes felt too dry—her body felt too hollow.

"I don't know why you keep fighting this," a voice spoke, and it took a moment for Addie to realise that Christine was still in the cell with her. "It'd be easier if you just gave in."

"Of course you'd say that." Addie spoke hoarsely, staring at the floor, but felt too tired to say more—to argue.

"It's true. Resisting just makes shit difficult." Christine lurked in the shadow that went over the wall she was leaning against. "I know the kind of person you are. You're just like them. Just like him. You all have this saviour complex and your morals and blah, blah, blah. Always trying to save people who don't need saving."

"...why'd you do it?" Addie's voice was quiet. "Why did you betray them?"

"I wanted to play my part. It's as simple as that." She said. "My mother was in Azkaban. I wanted to do something—something that she would do. Everyone thought I was too young, that I couldn't help. But I was the one who gained their trust over three years. I was the reason Pettigrew escaped, which led to the Dark Lord coming back, which led to all this. None of this could've happened if it weren't for me...yet here I am." Christine laughed darkly. "Still being treated like I'm too stupid to do anything. And here's Dabria walking around like she owns the place when she hasn't done shit compared to the rest of us."

"You're jealous?"

"I'm not jealous," she scoffed annoyedly. "I just give credit where credit is due—and she sure as hell should not get as much as she does..." Christine continued to ramble rather loudly, but Addie largely tuned her out. All she could think about was Harry, Ron and Hermione, at such young ages, finding out that who they thought they could trust had been plotting against them all along.

"How could you do that to them after everything you all went through?" Addie asked, interrupting her.

"Because I DIDN'T RESIST!" Christine suddenly bellowed, stepping out of the shadow. "They had it coming. Harry had it coming—" something inside Addie stung painfully at his name, "—I knew what I had to do so I did it! Maybe there were times I forgot about the mission, where they seemed like friends, where I wanted to resist, but I got over it. I gave in and did what I had to do!" Her chest heaved. "And you should too." She spun on her heel, pushed open the cell door, and slammed it shut behind her.

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a/n:
quick updates??? omg???? since when???

and btw y'all are not emotionally ready for the next chap
-g