The Soul
The weeks passed dreadfully slowly, and somehow also at the speed of light for Amira. Every day she woke up early, ran her laps outside, went to breakfast, and then went to the library. She was a fast reader, and she was combing through the sections of the library quickly. She had stopped using Draco's small library because she'd read all of the books and it made her miss him too much. She also wasn't afraid to wander the Manor or go to public places anymore. She looked for tips on her training, and discreetly looked for anything that might help her bring down the Dark Lord.
She often spent lunch with Narcissa, who seemed to welcome her company. Narcissa would talk to her about pureblood etiquette and politics. Amira was shocked by how much she didn't know, but she saw the importance of being a well-behaved lady in society. There was such power and elegance that Lady Malfoy exuded and Amira wanted to have it too.
In the afternoons, she dueled Bellatrix. The Dark Lord stopped showing up to those sessions. Amira didn't know where he went.
Then, she had dinner with him and all of the Death Eaters. She started being invited to attend the nightly meetings. They were boring, but she paid close attention. She carefully filed away each and every piece of information. At night, back in her room, she wrote it down and stored it in the deepest and most heavily guarded compartment in her trunk.
At the dinners, once a week or once every two weeks, Yaxley would attend to do his check-in with her. The Dark Lord had made it an order of business, so Amira didn’t have to worry about spending any extra time with her uncle. She wasn’t afraid of him anymore though, she was fairly confident that she could defend herself against him.
After dinner, when Bellatrix headed down to the dungeons with the other Death Eaters, she went to the Dark Lord's study. He taught her about runes, wards, rituals, and other obscure and complex magic that no one else would have knowledge on. He was immensely interested in her ability to simply feel and replicate magic without going through all of the proper techniques.
Slowly, Amira realized that he himself did not have that ability. He was careful not to let on, but overtime, she sensed that his attempts at replication were clumsy. He could almost feel things, but could only get a general sense instead of a clear image. Sometimes, she would try to conceal a magical signature from him, and he never noticed. He also couldn't break her spells. When he started to grow frustrated and his angry eyes started to turn on her, she would silently break her spell. She no longer needed to move her hand to cast magic. He never knew.
Magic was becoming scarily easy for her. The only thing that remained a challenge was her stamina and multitasking. Even those were improving rapidly. She didn’t get overwhelmed so easily anymore. Her necklace with Draco’s magic worked wonders for grounding her. There had only been two times that she’d completely lost control, and they’d left her there to orient herself, and she had been able to do so. It was almost not a problem anymore. She was a capable duelist. She would still lose in a duel against the Dark Lord, by a lot, but she was getting better. She half suspected that was why he himself had stopped training her. It was to ensure that she didn't learn all of his tricks.
He was playing a dangerous game and they both knew it. He was training her as a powerful weapon, knowing that she didn't truly want to follow him. Her bracelets kept her under his control, but she could still turn on him, and she had. His control over her was weak, and the stronger she got, the more it would dissolve. She wondered if he was aware of that. And if he was, what his plan was to regain control over her.
She wrote to Draco most nights. The only times that she wouldn't were the nights that she literally passed out the second she hit the bed, and she would always apologize to him in the morning. It happened a few times on his end as well, so she didn't feel too guilty.
Draco seemed to be doing ok. He was busy with classes, but he said they weren't too hard. He spent some time with his friends, but he said his time was taking up a lot of his time. He wouldn't elaborate, but she could tell he was frustrated. Secretly, Amira could tell that he was working on the cabinet. Its pair was at Hogwarts. He was trying to fix it. Amira wanted to help, but knew she wasn't allowed.
They didn't talk about the kiss either. They would make veiled comments about liking each other at the beginning, but that grew painful as they missed each other more and more. Sometimes, they just talked about random things. He'd tell her stories about his peers, or his childhood, and Amira would tell him random things that she'd learned.
On Sunday and Wednesday nights, they'd agreed to try to work on Draco feeling his magic. She gave him advice as best as she could. He slowly improved on being able to feel his magic more clearly when he really tried, but it was still nowhere near where Amira's talent was.
As September turned into October, the Dark Lord started making her go down to the dungeons and observe Bellatrix work after their private lessons. Amira hated it. The magic they used was painful to even be around. The Dark Lord liked to watch her during those times. She tried to hide how it affected her, but she couldn't stop herself from flinching or shaking as the nights wore on. The Unforgivables were the worst. They would leave her with tremors that would last for hours.
When Bellatrix used non magical methods, it seemed to prove to the Dark Lord that Amira's reactions were not mental or emotional, but purely physical. He tested her mental strength by making the male Death Eaters rape and assault women and young girls right in front of her. Amira had to stand there and watch as they laughed and taunted, bile in her throat and fear thrashing through her veins. Those caused horrible dreams, and panic attacks when she returned to her room. Her mind was filled with old memories and new ones.
The Dark Lord experimented more and more as the weather grew colder. He would make Amira stand next to Bellatrix, and then next to the victim. Both were horrible and they hurt, but it was all Amira could do to keep standing when she was next to the victim. When he himself cast, Amira did fall. She didn't cry out, but she landed on her knees and her vision went black. They found out that she could just barely tolerate it if she stood behind him. The cruciatus curse made her feel like she was on fire even by witnessing it.
Amira's only source of relief was that she was only made to endure this two or three times a week. There was a noticeable difference in her abilities in training the next day, so she supposed that the Dark Lord didn't want to stunt her progress too much, just enough to prove his dominance over her.
It was the week before Halloween and Draco was sitting in his room waiting for Amira to write to him. He wasn't sure if she would tonight or not, there were many nights now that she didn't, or she would show up a little bit late. He knew she was very busy with everything she had going on, and he was worried about what these late night meetings actually were. He hoped and prayed that she was being subjected to what he had been. She hadn't mentioned it, but she was gone more and more, and Draco knew what the Death Eaters did at that time of day.
The school year was dragging by. He barely saw his friends, he barely made it to classes. He spent all of his time with that godforsaken cabinet. He'd made only the slightest bit of progress. He could now send things through the cabinet, but as of yet, nothing would come back. He was almost ready to try his cursed necklace idea, but then he remembered that the Dark Lord didn't want Dumbledore dead until he announced Amira.
Still, he needed to be ready as soon as he had the go ahead. He didn't want to kill Dumbledore, but he supposed there were worse targets. He didn't have a choice, and for his safety, and his family's he wanted to be successful on the first try.
He knew the girls were annoyed with his absence, but worse, Theo and Blaise were displaying a growing concern for his well being. It was getting quite difficult to avoid them and their questions about what he was so busy with. They asked why he seemed thinner, why his grades were slipping, and why he always looked so exhausted. Pansy was barely speaking to him after a huge fight that they'd had two weeks after term began. She'd confronted him about Amira and what their relationship was.
"You're cheating on me with her!" she screeched in the hallway of the dungeons after he'd dropped her hand when she'd tried to hold his. "And now you don't love me anymore."
"Pansy," Draco said tiredly, "We are not together. We never have been."
"We are in love!" she demanded, "We are going to get married, everyone knows it."
The rest of their friends had awkwardly walked away to give them some privacy.
"No, we are not," Draco said, "You need to stop acting like this."
"This is all her fault," Pansy growled, "She's gotten in your head and manipulated you."
"She has not," Draco said calmly, "I never felt anything for you, I'm sorry."
"Convenient, the timing, when that trashy whore-" Pansy hissed, but Draco cut her off.
"Do not speak of her that way," Draco snapped, "Ever."
"She-"
"No." Draco said harshly, "Give up Pansy. And don't ever let me hear you saying anything about her."
He had stalked away before she could speak anymore. He had a charms essay to do.
Draco was putting the bare minimum of an effort into his school work. He attended classes and barely finished his homework. The only class he tried in was Defense because Severus was teaching it. He wished Severus was still teaching potions for two reasons. One, because it was easy for him to do well and not have the bat hovering over his shoulder, and two so that Slughorn's obnoxious love of Potter wouldn't be shoved in his face every lesson.
Potter was cheating, somehow. There was no way that he should have been doing as well as he was. And Slughorn just ate it right up. The whole class did really. Draco and Granger seemed to be the only two that had any issues with it. Granger had been furious with Potter on that first day when he created a miraculously good potion. Since then, she all but ignored him in class and focused on herself, casting angry glances at him and Weasley and curiously enough, their potions text.
Other than in Potions, Draco paid no attention to Potter. He didn't matter at all. It was hysterical to Draco that the whole world thought that Potter was somehow capable of saving them from the Dark Lord. Potter had ridiculous luck, but that was it. He was a strong wizard, but he wasn't powerful like Dumbledore, the Dark Lord, or Amira. He would never be able to out duel the Dark Lord. No one was even training him. He was just a school boy. Draco didn't know how he'd survived this long. He wouldn't survive much longer if he kept antagonizing Severus in defense either.
Severus wouldn't leave him alone. It felt like once a week he was pestering Draco about how and what he was doing. He kept saying that his mother had told Severus of Draco's task, and he'd promised to help. Draco didn't want Severus's help. Either he was lying and he was truly trying to check in on him for the Dark Lord, or he was being honest to his mother. But Draco had to do it alone. And on the small chance that he was lying but working for Dumbledore, Draco really didn't want him to know. Though he yearned for his godfather's help and wisdom, any scenario with Severus knowing could lead to Draco being dead and the risk was too great.
Draco looked down as his journal glowed.
Are you still awake? she wrote. Draco frowned as he looked at the writing, it looked shaky, and the letters came very slowly.
Yes, he said, Are you alright?
There was a very long pause and an ink blot appeared on his page. Finally she wrote.
Yes, it's been a long night.
Draco checked the time and saw that he had been waiting well over an hour for her to write. Her handwriting was even worse now.
Amira, are you okay?, he asked again, You're shaking
I'm fine, she said, I just have some tremors
Why? he asked. She got tremors when she was overwhelmed. But she wouldn't be able to write if she was overwhelmed. People got tremors after they'd had the torture curse, and that thought made Draco's stomach curl in dread.
I'm okay, but I don't want to talk about it, she wrote. I'm just writing to tell you that I might be missing more of these meetings.
Why? he asked sadly. He looked forward to talking with her all day long. It was literally the only good part of his day.
He's keeping me later and later, she said, And you need to get sleep. But you can write, and I'll read it later. And then I'll write back
Is he hurting you?
Draco couldn't drop the subject. Something was very wrong, he could tell.
If he was, it doesn't matter.
That told Draco everything he needed to know.
I wish I could be there he wrote
Me too
There was no writing for a few moments.
I'm really tired, she admitted.
Sleep then, he encouraged her. Goodnight
Goodnight Draco, I miss you
Amira watched the snake carefully during their nightly meeting a few weeks after All Hallow's eve. Now that she had Draco's magic in a necklace around her neck, she was more interested in figuring out just what of the Dark Lord's was sitting in Nagini's head. Draco's magic wasn't that heavy, and it was that sentient. There was something much more complex about the piece of magic that surrounded Nagini. It came to life whenever the Dark Lord was in the room. It almost had a layer that seemed to mirror emotions. It shifted when the Dark Lord was angry, confused, or gleeful. It was ecstatic whenever the Dark Lord caressed it. It was almost like there was more of the Dark Lord there than just his magic. Perhaps it wasn't magic at all. Amira looked back at the Dark Lord and tried to sense past his magical core.
It was hard to do, his core was shielded by that painful layer of magic. But when she got through it, she found something very interesting. There was an aura there, like everyone else had. Amira compared his to Bellatrix's who sat next to him. It was very difficult for her to see to this level without touching them, and without alerting them that she was looking so deep inside of them.
Behind Bellatrix's magical core, there was a large red and black mass. It was spastic, and electricity seemed to shock off of it every couple of seconds. In comparison, the Dark Lord's mass was a very small fraction of the side, and it was mangled. It looked like it was torn and frayed, and it was pure black. It made Amira feel nauseous when she looked at it for too long.
It also looked a lot like what was sitting in Nagini's head. What was it?
Amira pondered what was sitting inside of the magical cores. She felt her own, and tried to see deeply into it. Her own was a golden color, it was warm, and it was full. It wasn't moving like Bella's and it was solid. She looked around the table to everyone else.
Most of theirs were deep colors, and most of them had little tears and rips. The more vile death eaters had their nature's replicated in whatever it was that Amira was looking at. The exception was Narcissa. Hers was a very dark green, but it wasn't black. It wasn't torn, and it still felt warm.
Suddenly, Amira realized she was incredibly dizzy and fatigued, so she pulled back. Her head spun, and she couldn't understand anything that was being said. Her head pounded and her heartbeat was loud in her ears. She was extremely worried she was about to pass out. It felt like her heart was almost going to stop.
When she calmed down, thankfully it appeared that no one had noticed. Her magic felt extremely strained. Almost like it was injured. She made a mental note not to go looking so deeply at other people's magic again.
The rest of the meeting passed with Amira thinking over what she had learned. What was it that sat in all of them? It wasn't their body, their mind or the magic that ran through their veins. It was connected to all parts of them, but mostly their heart and head. It was protected by their magical cores. And they were all unique.
A soul.
Amira stumbled upon the realization. It was their soul, their consciousness, what made them who they were. It all clicked into place. She had been looking at souls. Was that even possible? Were souls something that she was supposed to be able to see? Or feel?
Questions rapidly fired themselves in her head then.
Why were so many of their souls damaged?
Why were they all so ugly?
Why was his so small if his magic was so great?
Why was there a piece of the Dark Lord's soul in the head of his snake?
Amira stood when the meeting was dismissed and swayed.
"What's wrong with you?" Bellatrix snapped at her.
"I'm just fatigued, I'm sorry," Amira said gracefully. Bellatrix looked her up and down.
"You are," she said, "You are dismissed tonight. Rest up, we need to train tomorrow."
Amira nodded, and relief flooded her. She could simply go to sleep tonight. The walk back to her room was tremendously difficult. She was seeing spots and stumbling before she even pushed open her door. Her breath was hard. It felt like she'd been running a marathon. It was all she could do to write down what she'd discovered when she was back in her room. She scribbled a hasty goodnight message to Draco, already half asleep and then passed out.