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𝐌𝐑. 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐌𝐀𝐍

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HOW DID YOU SURVIVE? they ask.

how much did they have you bleed;

how long did they make you suffer;

how long did they force you down;

how dark did they tint your dreams?

—until you had their blood glistening on your teeth;

—until your suffering paled in comparison to their own;

—until it was their heads pinned under your boot;

—until you learned to enjoy the sounds of screams.

I DIDN'T you reply.

— to defeat monsters: become the greater monster | m.a.w.

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐃 no hope for Elara. The days and grew longer and bleeker as each rise of the sun brought nothing but torture and dullness. Whenever she was awake, Elara would endlessly run over the words of Aunt Cissa in her head, trying to make sense of what she'd heard. First, it was these 'Constellations' that Dumbledore had mentioned. Then, that Elara's only purpose was to die in this cruel war. And then this woman Narcissa had seen in the halls. . . . it all made no sense.

The cell was quiet.

Dean, Jane, and Luna had seemingly given up on making Elara smile. Rarely were there more than two words uttered in conversation from any of them. They heard nothing except for yelling upstairs. Elara didn't know and frankly didn't care what they screaming on about. Whatever it was had no importance to her.

"Stupefy," screamed Bellatrix, her voice muffled above. "Stupefy."

Dean shifted from his position, his expression showed nothing but excitement as he stared at the ceiling.

"D'you think someone's here to save us?" he whispered.

"If they are, they don't seem to be doing a very good job," noted Luna at the sound of two bodies slamming into the marbled floor above.

There was more indecipherable screaming, and then:

"No! You can have me, keep me!"

Elara jumped at the sound of Ron's voice. It had been so long. Her heart began violently pounding as she quickly thought of Harry and Hermione. Had they found each other? Were they here? Ron's angry yells became louder as he advanced down the stairs and closer to the cell she was in. Was Harry or Hermione with him? Who was still upstairs?

The foul stench of Greyback filled Elara's nose as the cell door opened and two people were thrown in.

"Harry? Ron?" said Elara.

A hope she hadn't known in what seemed like years filled her.

"Tonks," snarled Greyback, "you're coming with me."

"Wait — No," protested Harry, writhing against his bonds, "Don't you fucking touch her — "

It was too late. Greyback had already crossed the musty cell, picked up Elara by her arm, and begun dragging her to the door. She tried to fight him off to no avail. In any other situation, she could have thrown him across the room as she once had done, but she was humiliatingly frail.

She forced down hot tears as the loud protests of Harry and Ron trailied after her.

The drawing room dazzled after the darkness outside; even with her eyes almost closed Elara could make out the familiar wide proportions of the room. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, more portraits against the dark purple walls.

There lay Hermione, arm outstretched, in the overwhelmingly frightening familiar position Elara was in not too long ago. Her eyes met Elara's in a surprised and panicked manor.

Before Elara could say or do anything to help Hermione, Greyback forced her onto her knees.

"Elara," commanded Bellatrix, "torture the Mudblood or you'll suffer an even worse fate."

Elara laughed weakly, wincing when a stabbing pain seared in her side.

"No."

Bellatrix snarled. Sweat was beading at her forehead, pale as a ghost.

"Draco, torture the girl."

He instead took a few steps backward, looking around at Elara. It didn't take a lot of thought to understand that he was beyond afraid.

"FINE," snarled Bellatrix. "Someone give my itty bitty daughter the Drink of Despair."

Elara's eyes widened. Anya warned her of this potion. She had seen Dumbledore go through it's effects. Weakly, she struggled against her bonds as an familiar Death Eater advanced towards her. The last thing she saw was silent tears streaming down Aunt Cissa's face and Draco's fist shoved into his own mouth to prevent him from retaliating.

Elara was floating. She had no idea where she was. Over and over, she told herself that what she was about to experience was not real and only an illusion meant to render her powerless in the face of her enemies.

She plunged down into the darkness to find herself in her own home.

Nymphie, Ted, and Andromeda were back to back, their wands pointed at at east a dozen death eaters surrounding them. Elara froze as she looked upon her family about to fight to the death against unfair odds.

"It's not real, It's not real, It's not real..." Vehemently muttered Elara.

But when the first curse was fired, all sense left her. She immediately sprung into fighting alongside her family. She was powerless. No curse left her wand, and no jet of light flew from her hand.

"Lara, don't just stand there!"

A tight feeling closed in on Elara's chest as it became harder to breathe. Try as she might, but not no spell or flame appeared. Her hands shook violently as she slowly came to the realization that she was completely and utterly powerless.

Useless.

Disappointment.

She watched helplessly as the Death Eaters overpowered her family, leaving each of them lifeless on the carpeted floor. She launched to run over to them, being forced backwards and towards the darkness of the abyss.

She was floating again. A tsunami of relief crashing over her trembling body, finally remembering that she was not powerless and only a cruel trick played upon her by the gods. As soon as she composed herself, however, she was pushed forward into another scene.

It was Ron and Hermione.

Surrounded by the familiarity of the Forbidden forest, they were on their own, hiding behind trees. Behind them were Snatchers, advancing towards their hiding spot, leering.

"Elara!" whispered Ron, "Thank Merlin you're here!"

"We need — We need you to fight them," panted Hermione, clutching her side, "We've been running for ages."

"I — I can't—"

"Elara, please," begged Hermione, "you have to save us."

She prayed to whatever cruel gods that were up there to have even a thread of mercy.

A large weight crashed over her as, once again, she was powerless. A Snatcher grabbed Hermione from behind and she screamed in pain their arm was tightening around her open and bloodied wound. Ron, yelling stupidly, thundered out from his hiding spot to come to Hermione's aid, but was tackled to the ground by another Snatcher.

"We trusted you," bellowed Ron, "You were supposed to save us!"

The sunny clearing to not reflect her thoughts as Elara stumbled backward against hit a tree. Her shaking hands drew her attention as she did not have the courage to face Ron.

"I'm so sorry. . . . I'm so sorry. . . ."

The merciless force pulled her back out into the abyss.

"Please," she begged softly, "Just kill me — Just kill me..."

And once again, she was shown no mercy.

Bodies were littered around her as Elara landed in the midst of a ruined Hogwarts. A gory battle raged around her. Blood stained the rocky ground as people she didn't recognize were being killed left and right. The familiar red hair of the Weasleys pulled Elara to them.

Ginny fall over on the ground, scrambling backwards as Bellatrix advanced on her.

"I always hated you most..." cried Bellatrix gleefully.

"ELARA!" screamed Ginny, as she fell over dead.

And cruelly, Elara was forced to watch as each Weasley was struck down ruthlessly. The worst of all was Aurora, who was fighting valiantly alongside George. She was the last one standing, swaying on her feet, panting. Their eyes met.

In a sickening turn of events, Aurora displayed a melancholy smile.

She forgave Elara. She was supposed to save everyone and even though she couldn't, even though she just stood there, Aurora forgave her.

Elara crumpled to the ground just as Aurora did.

She couldn't do it.

She didn't want to go on.

She couldn't go on.

All the wind was sucked out of her lungs. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't see, all she could feel was the rocky ground beneath her. Her hands wrapped around some sort of solid object, clawing for some sort of hope, for some sort of stability. All she could do was pray it was over.

The gods had no mercy.

"Please—"

Once again, she was forced through the air, through the darkness, and into another nightmare. Only the cruel god that was hellbent on tearing her limb from limb knew what was next as Elara fell onto a mossy forest floor.

She couldn't stand.

Her heart began pounding wildly in her chest as her teary eyes lay upon Harry and Voldemort stood facing each other.

Would she be shown mercy?

"Elara!" exclaimed Harry, voice cutting like a knife.

He was relieved. His voice was full of hope, as if a savior had been sent down from the heavens to fight with him.

If only he knew.

"Elara, thank Merlin, I thought I lost you."

He was so hopeful. She had to go on. She had to get up. Every bone in her godforsaken body was sore. Everywhere ached. She fought against the bloodthirsty will of the gods as she forced herself to stand on trembling legs.

She was too late.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

"EXPELLIARMUS!"

A strong sense of Deja Vu washed over Elara as she remembered the graveyard. She was so naive then, believing that she was capable of saving the world. That she was worth something. The aching of her soul forced her to stay, rooted in her spot as she watched Voldemort's spell slowly, agonizingly take over Harry's. Elara wanted to move, she truly did, but something was keeping her rooted to the spot she was standing in, just like the graveyard. She struggled as hard as she could.

The forces that kept her there before seemed hellbent on not letting her win this time.

Desperation flooded her senses as she began sweating and screaming and cursing to break free from her bonds. They would not move.

She watched as the man she was so desperately in love with, the man who stood with her even when she was struggling, the man who sacrificed everything to save everyone, fly backwards as Voldemort's curse hit him square on the chest.

Elara screamed. She screamed until her throat was raw.

A cold, scaly hand lifted her chin up, forcing Elara to look into the triumphant face of Voldemort.

"You are nothing" hissed voldemort, a disgusting joy ringing in his voice. "You are worthless. everybody trusted you, and you did nothing but let them down. Did you really believe the fairytale you were fed that you could actually defeat me?"

Elara's eyes met his.

"Please — Please, I beg you — Kill me."

He simply laughed.

"No. . . . killing you would just end your suffering. I want you alive and powerless so you can live with what you've done."

All Elara heard were all the voices yelling at her. Nymphie, Andromeda, Ted, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, George, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Aurora, and finally Harry.

It truly was hell.

The screams grew louder and louder. Elara tried to plug her ears to deafen the voices, but found that she truly was nothing. They rang through her violently pounding head, through her body, until they became overwhelming. They repeated their pleas and their cries over and over and over and over and —

Air.

A sweet rush of air filled her lungs. Head pounding violently, Elara gasped and sat upwards, coughing.

"You're alive!"

Shaking her head so as to get rid of the incessant ringing, Elara turned her head to find Harry beside her. A great, comforting joy lit his tired features.

Harry's alive?

She had no time to ask what had happened, as familiar arms wrapped her in a warm embrace. Caring about little else, she hugged him back. He's alive. He's alive. He's alive. The exhaustion Elara had grown used to in the past months slowly faded away as she felt her long-lost strength and energy flood her body.

"Would you two like to get a move on before we're killed?!" shouted Ron.

Elara's senses came back to her as she realized there was a small battle raging on around them. Fueled by her newfound strength, Elara cracked her knuckles and pushed herself up. Unused to standing on her own, she stumbled for a fraction of a second before regaining her balance.

On cue, magnificent flames rose from her palms, automatically firing towards Bellatrix, who whirled around and fired a curse back.

"You tried," said Elara indifferently, waving a hand, burning Bellatrix's spell middair. "You should know by now, you can't fucking kill me."

Rage.

"You think you're so scary, Bellatrix — But I've seen scary. You just don't have it's smile."

At the last word there was a peculiar grinding noise from above. All of them looked upward in time to see the crystal chandelier tremble; then, with a creak and an ominous jingling, it began to fall. Bellatrix was directly beneath it; she threw herself aside with a scream. The chandelier crashed to the floor in an explosion of crystal and chains, falling on top of Hermione and the goblin, who still clutched the sword of Gryffindor.

Glittering shards of crystal flew in all directions: Draco doubled over, his hands covering his bloody face.

As Ron ran to pull Hermione out of the wreckage, Elara took her chance: She leapt over an armchair and wrested the three wands from Draco's grip, pointed all of them at Greyback, and yelled, "Stupefy!"

The werewolf was lifted off his feet by the triple spell, flew up to the ceiling, and then smashed to the ground. As Narcissa dragged Draco out of the way of further harm, Bellatrix sprang to her feet, her hair flying as she brandished the silver knife; but Narcissa had directed her wand at the doorway.

"Dobby!" she screamed, and even Bellatrix froze. "You! You dropped the chandelier — ?"

The tiny elf trotted into the room, his shaking finger pointing at his old mistress.

"You must not hurt Elara Tonks and Harry Potter," he squeaked.

"Kill him, Cissy!" shrieked Bellatrix, but there was another loud crack, and Narcissa's wand too flew into the air and landed on the other side of the room.

"You dirty little monkey!" bawled Bellatrix. "How dare you take a witch's wand, how dare you defy your masters?"

"Dobby has no master!" squealed the elf. "Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends!"

"Ron, catch — and GO!" yelled Elara, throwing one of the wands to Ron; then she bent down to tug Griphook out from under the chandelier.

Hoisting the groaning goblin, who still clung to the sword, over one shoulder, Elara seized Dobby's hand and spun on the spot to Disapparate.

As she turned into darkness she caught one last view of the drawing room: of the pale, frozen figures of Narcissa and Draco, of the streak of red that was Ron's hair, and a blur of flying silver, as Bellatrix's knife flew across the room at the place where she was vanishing.

She had disappeared into the unknown.

A searing in her abdomen pierced her, and the weight of the goblin bore down upon her; she could feel the blade of Gryffindor's sword bumping against his back. . . . And then they hit solid earth and smelled salty air.

Elara fell to the ground as, once again, strength failed her. Her hand flew to her stomach as she felt the cold handle of a silver knife.

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

AUTHORS NOTE

— girl cant catch a fucking break

Written: December 10, 2020

Published: December 10, 2020