Word Count: 5,168

        "No, not Amelia, please, not her!"

        "Stand aside, you foolish woman, stand aside now!"

        "I'm not letting you harm my daughter!"

        There was a flash of spells as the two began duelling, both aiming for the kill. The stronger witch would've had the upper hand, but in her desperation, she allowed the love for her daughter to get in the way of the murderous intent necessary to defeat her opponent.

       "Avada Kedavra!"

        One figure crashed onto the floor, dead, while the other walked away, victorious, from the scene of the crime.

-

        "MUM!" Amelia shouted, rapidly sitting up, her weak, shaky arms supporting as her eyes flew around the room. She felt her arms give way and her whole body dripping with sweat.

        Immediately, a small house-elf Apparated into the room, a mixture of worry and panic on her petite face. "Are you alright? Can Daisy help Miss in any way?"

        Amelia's heart practically thumped out of her chest. After taking a few quick breaths, she finally trusted herself to speak. "No, I don't think there's really to help, I just had another nightmare. Thank you for offering your help, Daisy," Amelia sighed, slumping back down onto her bed.

        The house-elf was about to Disapparate, but she suddenly stopped. "Why don't you tell Daisy about your nightmare? Daisy might be able to help." Once the girl nodded, the house-elf sat on a pillow at the head of her master's bed.

        "It was about Mum again," Amelia muttered. "I haven't had one of those in a while."

        "What else?," the house-elf urged, gently stroking Amelia's soft brown hair.

        "A baby in a cot was there. It was me, I think. Mum was standing in front of a door, but then it slammed shut. Then, the Dark Lord appeared. He wanted to kill me, but Mum began duelling with him. She almost won! But then, he used Avada Kedavra on her, and well, you know..."

        "... there's no recovery. Just death." Daisy finished, staring at Amelia sympathetically. "After that?"

        "Nothing else," the girl whispered. "The nightmare just ended the moment he killed her. He just walked away without looking back. I don't even know what happened to me!"

        The house-elf frowned. "Miss just had a nightmare though, right?"

       Amelia smiled sadly. "I wish it was. I've had flashbacks as dreams before, and I bet this is one of those." After a moment, she spoke again. "I don't think I can return to Hogwarts, because of my nightmares, Daisy. They're getting too intense, and I don't want to bother Daph, Millie, and Tracey with my screaming." Then, with an afterthought, "That and because the Dark Lord's back. Hogwarts isn't safe anymore."

        "Daisy knows Miss is scared," the house-elf comforted her. "but Miss is a Knightley. You're a strong witch! Even the other house-elves know! Daisy was in the Hogwarts Kitchens once, and Daisy took great pride in declaring that Amelia Knightley is my master." Amelia's face split open in a soft smile. "And about the Dark Lord, you have to be brave enough to face him. Don't worry about picking sides, fight on your own. Fight on your own side. With patience and deductive thinking, you'll find that the Dark Lord in dead in your hands."

        Most visitors were shocked to meet such a literate house-elf, but what could she say? Amelia's personal house-elf had to be the best of the best.

        "I hate Voldemort!" Amelia complained angrily. "He started this war! Because of him, children are forced to fight!"

        Daisy's face paled. "Miss, please lower your voice..." she implored. Pausing, she addded on reluctantly, "Miss... Daisy wishes she didn't have to, but your aunt and uncle wanted Daisy to wake you up. There's a guest waiting in the sitting room."

        Amelia didn't think about why the house-elf reacted the way she did, and assumed that the guest was one of her friends (most likely Blaise Zabini, who travelled so frequently throughout many places with different timezones that he never knew what time it was at home). "Thank you for your comfort, Daisy," she said gratefully. "I'll go to the guest. You are dismissed."

        "Be careful!" the house-elf squeaked, Disapparating from the room. Again, that was another small sign of what was yet to come, but in her tiredness, the witch didn't catch onto the hints.

        Amelia went down the stairs, through the hallway, and found herself standing in front of the large door to the living room, suddenly filled with dread. Why was every bone in her body telling her to run away? Why was the powerful protective amulet (which was charmed by the most competent and skilled witches and wizards) hung around her neck burning against her skin? She should've made the connection then, but she wasn't called the Gryffindor-like Slytherin for nothing. Rash decisions were just her forte, so she ignored her gut feelings and pushed open the door, walking forward with her head held up high.

        "Ah, hello there, Miss Knightley," a cold voice greeted her, acting as though she was the guest and him the host.

        It was then that many thoughts flew through Amelia's mind. Firstly, she realised her aunt and uncle were never trying to protect her, they were grooming her into becoming a loyal follower. It was only then that she realised that Lord Voldemort was in her sitting room, smirking at her horror-struck expression.

        He was handsome, unlike the image Amelia built up in her mind. Instead of an extremely pale white face with snakelike features, no hair, and glowing red eyes, he had beige skin, dark brown hair, and his eyes were red, just not glowing.

        "Sit," he ordered.

        For a moment, Amelia paused. Who was he, a guest in the grand, Knightley Manor, to tell her what to do? At her hesitation, Voldemort's nostrils flared and he twirled his wand around threateningly. She then remembered how he was the most powerful evil wizard alive, so, rather reluctantly, she sank down onto a plush armchair close to the fireplace.

        Once Amelia settled in her seat, the Dark wizard spoke once more. "I have waited years to kill you, Miss Knightley, but that is irrelevant now." Amelia wanted to argue that it wasn't irrelevant that he once wanted to kill her, but decided against saying anything. "After disappearing at the hands of an infant and returning just a few months ago," Lord Voldemort continued, "I am still recovering. However, it has come to my attention that you have powers that will prove helpful for when I plan to overtake Hogwarts— and soon after— the Ministry."

        "Wh—"

        Voldemort raised a hand up to silence her. "I am still talking. Now, my plans to raid either are foiled by one person: Dumbledore. I could send one of my Death Eaters to get rid of him, but they're still too incompetent for me to fully trust them with the job. Besides, Hogwarts is impenetrable, so the easiest person to send is a student." He looked Amelia in the eye. "Of course, that won't be you, because I have much bigger problems for you to assist me in taking care of. After Dumbledore is taken care of, I will attack the Ministry."

        "Why the Ministry?" Amelia inquired. "Isn't Hogwarts the easier target?"

        "No," the Dark Lord replied. "Hogwarts still has people such as Minerva McGonagall there, along with many loyal followers of Dumbledore, Potter, and the Order. The Ministry, however, is rules by Cornelius Fudge. He is far too cowardly to be viewed as a threat, so I can simply exterminate him and use a few Imperios to get one of my men in his position. I'll plant a few more seeds in other departments, and then I can begin my plan to take over Hogwarts."

        There was a long silence, in which Lord Voldemort relished the idea of a world built just the way he liked it, while Amelia's mind began running over the terrible things that could happen if the ambitious man had his say in how the aforementioned world would be run.

        "Why are you telling me this?" Amelia asked suspiciously, breaking the silence. "You do realise that I could just head to the Ministry and warn them that you plan to overtake the Wizarding World?"

        "You won't," Lord Voldemort said simply. "Firstly, I haven't told you much, so even if you make it that far, you don't have enough evidence to prove that I am up to something, much less than I have even returned. Secondly, you're a teenager and a Slytherin at that. No matter how powerful your family's influence is, the Ministry is full of fools who will not believe a word you say. And, if you fail to follow my instructions, you'll find all your loved ones dead because of your foolishness."

        Amelia took note of how quickly Voldemort was to make a threat. It was quite interesting how defensive he got in such a short matter of time.

        "I don't love them," the young witch hissed at him, gesturing toward the door where she knew her aunt and uncle were trying to eavesdrop (to no avail, since a Silencing Charm was in place). "They mean nothing to me."

        "I wasn't talking about them," the Dark wizard replied. "I was referring to your friends. I believe their names are Daphne Greengrass, Millicent Bulstrode, and Tracey Davis? You are also friends with the Zabini heir, am I correct?" Amelia's face told him that he was correct. "I believe some of your other friends aren't suitable for a pureblood such as yourself, so what do you think would happen to your friends if your aunt and uncle found out? How would you feel if something happened to your beloved Longbottom boy, Lovegood girl, or Weasley twins because of your refusal to assist me in my plans? One of your friends was tragically murdered already, of course."

        Amelia's blood boiled at the mention of Cedric Diggory, one of her closest friends at Hogwarts. That, and the threats laced in the so-called Dark Lord's words. "You wouldn't dare!"

        "I would, actually," he corrected her. "I would go to any lengths to get you to work with me."

        With me. Not for me. He meant 'with him' like an equal. A Dark Lady, perhaps. Amelia cringed at the thought. "Why do I matter so much to you?" she inquired. "You just admitted that you wanted to kill me."

        "You have incredible powers that haven't been seen since the great Merlin. In fact, rumors have been spreading for decades of the relation between Merlin and the Knightley family."

        "I am just like any other witch," Amelia insisted. "My powers are just like anybody else's."

        Voldemort's red eyes narrowed. "You haven't triggered your powers yet. Never mind that. Once you pledge to join me, I shall personally assist you in the discovery. However," he added, "I do know for a fact that we have a common enemy. Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter, and their band of bumbling heroes."

         "I don't hate Potter," Amelia blurted immediately. "He's simply an annoying arsehole who seems to think that he's better than everybody else. And Dumbledore? He's just a biased old man who's too cowardly to face you himself and prefers to use children as puppets. As for the Order of the Phoenix, I respect them and their efforts. In fact, I'm due to join them next summer."

        "Well, that will work out wonderfully. You can serve as a spy alongside Severus. That is, if he is still doing his duty..." Voldemort frowned, deep in thought. Seconds later, the man stood up and faced her. "Now, I waited a few months to meet you so I had enough energy to brand one person, and not any more than that. Tonight will go down in history, Amelia." Amelia shuddered at the sound of her first name coming out of the man's mouth. "Tonight is the day that a member of power, ancient Knightleys joined my cause." As Amelia opened her mouth to argue, he added, "Your aunt and uncle don't count because neither go by the surname."

        "I never agreed to join you!" Amelia argued.

        "Do you want your friends' lives endangered?" he challenged. "Just imagine what might happen if you refuse..." Voldemort taunted.

        "No, I'll take the mark" Amelia muttered in defeat, staring down at the ground and accepting her miserable fate.

        "Well, then, hold out your left arm. This won't hurt much."

        With that, he pressed the tip of his wand to Amelia's porcelain skin, muttered a spell, and smirked as a black, ink-like substance spread out and formed the shape of a skull with a snake for a tongue; the symbol of a Death Eater.

        It turned out that not only was Lord Voldemort a master manipulator, he was also a liar. The Dark Mark came with unbearable pain; a burning sensation that just wouldn't go away.

        Studies done by Muggles (they were surprisingly very accurate) proved that in moments of great danger, the body went into a fight or flight mode. Amelia's body chose the latter. Amelia screamed and tried to rip her arm out of the Dark Lord's grip, but it was like breaking away from iron shackles. Her whole body began twitching and she could feel her heart slowing, a reaction that only happened when the human body was in excruciating pain.

        Whimpers made their way out of her mouth, so Amelia's right hand occupied itself by covering her mouth to muffle the sound of her violent sobs. Her left hand was flailing and twisting to no avail; she couldn't get her arm out of Voldemort's.

        She was stuck. There was no way out. She would never be free.

        Voldemort was chanting; the spell must've been in Parseltongue, however, because Amelia couldn't understand a word. He ignored Amelia's sounds of pain and continued the rhythmic chant. Risking a glance down at her forearm, Amelia saw a half-formed snake tattooed onto her usually flawless skin.

        Thankfully, she thought, the mark can be hidden for hours at a time with a simple Glamour Charm. That mildly comforting thought was the last conscious one before she passed out. Then, and only then, did the Dark Lord release Amelia's left forearm from his vice-like grip. By then, it was too late. The damage was done. The ugly tattoo had burned itself onto her skin, and there was no getting rid of it. At least the bruising caused by Voldemort's tight grip would disappear...

        It was a moment of déjà vu as the evil man walked past, not throwing a second glance at the body he left behind. It was just as it was years ago: a wise, strong, young woman sacrificing herself for her loved ones, only to be in lasting pain herself.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

        The Malfoy Manor. A place that for the longest time, Amelia swore she would never step foot in. However, times had changed, and she decided that new allies needed to be made. Visiting the Malfoys wasn't on her bucket list at all, but she didn't want to disturb any of her friends with her troubles.

        The door opened moments after Amelia knocked on it. "Hello?" The Malfoy matriarch herself stood at the entrance, zeroing in on the girl and looking baffled as to why Knightley, of all people, was there.

        "Hello, Mrs. Malfoy," Amelia greeted kindly. "Do you mind if I talk to you and your family? Malfoy— Draco, too. It's rather urgent, otherwise I wouldn't have bothered you at this hour." Now that she thought about it, asking to speak with the Malfoys at ten in the night wasn't the best choice, but she wasn't exactly thinking rationally.

        "Of course, dear," the woman replied kindly. "Come inside, and do call me Narcissa."

        "Thank you, Narcissa," Amelia said gratefully, quickly entering and shutting the door behind her with a snap.

        "Poppy!" Narcissa called (Amelia found it rather amusing for a moment how both her house-elf and this one were named after flowers). Seconds later, a house-elf appeared, wearing a tunic made out of a bed sheet.

        "Yes, Mistress?" Poppy squeaked, barely giving the other girl a second glance.

        "Call Lucius and Draco down to the Drawing Room, please."

        "Of course, Mistress." With a pop, the house-elf Disapparated.

        "Follow me, dear," Narcissa instructed, walking down the hall and navigating her way around the manor and toward a room with a large archway for an entrance.

        Walking underneath the archway, they were met with two men, both identical, but one looking noticeably younger than the other. Sleek blonde hair, pale skin, glittering grey eyes, and identical smirks. However, this time, their hair and hair weren't as well-kept, their eyes lost their malevolent gleam, and their tired, downturned mouths almost made it seem as if the signature Malfoy smirk was never there.

        Almost. Amelia's heart, for once, shattered with sympathy as she stared at the soon-to-be fifth year, a boy who was just two years younger than her. Amelia Knightley and Draco Malfoy never had a good history, but all that seemed to fade away as Draco, too, noticed how the previously serene yet cheerful witch had dark circles underneath her eyes and seemed to have lost all her light in just one summer.

        "Knightley?" Draco asked Amelia, looking confused. Turning to his mother, "Why is she here?"

        "Yes, Narcissa, do enlighten us," Lucius agreed. "To what do we owe the pleasure of having Amelia Knightley in our presence?"

        He scowled darkly at his son as if reminding him of who their guest was. As if Draco would've forgotten. In his first year, Draco boasted about making her pass out in a duel, when in reality, she was wandless while in the Common Room past curfew and he decided to provoke her. Why would he forget the supposed 'best moment of his life?'

        "The Dark Lord came to visit me this evening, around 5 or 6," Amelia responded instead, somehow keeping a straight face instead of revealing how truly afraid she really was.

        Draco had no qualms in allowing a horrified expression to take over his face. The adults, on the other hand, exchanged a look before sighing in unison. "Please, sit down and tell us everything," Narcissa said.

        The Malfoys sat down in their respective seats at the large table, leaving Amelia to sit next to Draco.

        She began speaking after a few moments of silence. "A few hours ago, I was called downstairs by my aunt and uncle, only to see the Dark Lord waiting for me. It turns out that Aunt Irene and Uncle Damon were in league with the Dark Lord the whole time, so that's lovely," Amelia chuckled dryly, though there was no amusement in her tone. "He gave me a brief explanation— an extremely brief one at that— then demanded that I join him in the war against Dumbledore and Potter."

        "You refused to join, didn't you?" Draco blurted. "And now you came to us for help? Do you realize how incredibly stu—"

        "Draco!" Narcissa scolded. "Do not interrupt her."

        "No worries, Narcissa," Amelia assured the older woman. "I did refuse," she agreed, and Draco smirked triumphantly. "At first." His smirk fell as quickly as it appeared. "But, then he threatened my loved ones... What was I supposed to do? I've already lost one of my friends, and I can't afford to lose the others. I had no choice. I took the mark." Her breath hitched and a tear slipped out of her eye. She quickly wiped it away, but she knew that the family saw the water beginning to pool in her eyes. Clearly, talking about the occurrence affected her much more than having to deal with it on her own. "I passed out afterward, and only woke up about half an hour ago," she added in a whisper.

        Lucius stood up rather abruptly, worry written all over his haggard face. "My apologies, Miss Knightley, but I have to send an owl. If you need me, send Poppy." With that, he left the room in a hurry.

        "I'll make tea," Narcissa decided. "Draco, be polite." Her dangerous scowl dared him to disobey.

        "Yes, Mother," Draco rolled his eyes as she left. He then glanced at Amelia before muttering, "you can cry, you know. I'm not going to judge you for it."

        "What?" Amelia asked.

        Draco sighed loudly. "I said, you can cry if you want to. Scratch that, you look absolutely miserable. Letting it out might help."

        At his words, Amelia allowed her misery to take over for just a moment. Just as she let out the first sob, her mark burned, filling her body with excruciating pain. It burned, so much. Her arm felt like it was being burned and stabbed with a thousand sharp knives at the same time. Pain raked her whole body and she yelped loudly and suddenly, her chair falling to the ground with the force in which her arm twitched.

        Draco looked frightened and jumped off his seat. Just as he opened the door to call his mother, Amelia stopped him.

        "Draco," she whispered, tears streamed down her face as she stared up at him pitifully. Amelia knew that she'd regret showing so much weakness. "D-Draco, please! Y-you seeing this is b-bad enough, d-don't call your parents. P-please," she whispered, speaking despite the immense pain it caused to stop herself from screaming.

        In her books, it was pride before pain, though Amelia'd already swallowed some of her pride when she'd stuttered in front of the young Malfoy.

        Draco sighed and retreated. "Fine. But if you die, don't blame me. You're the one who refused to get help." He cast a quick Silencing Charm on the door.

        Once she realised that there was no point in hiding it, Amelia let out another loud cry and clutched her arm in agony. For a moment, Draco looked concerned, but he forced himself to sit still and give the older girl some privacy. Amelia risked glancing up for a second, and noticed that Draco was staring at his cuticles with too much interest for it to appear genuine. She appreciated the respectful gesture, though. At her silence, Draco glanced at her with a look that clearly said, just fucking cry you dumbass.

        Amelia sobbed, allowing tears to stream down her face and splatter over her simple velvet dress. The splotches of water glistened for a few seconds upon the emerald fabric before fully soaking in. Amelia's Dark Mark was visible for just a second as her long, flowy sleeves slipped back.

        It was a dark skull with a snake for a tongue. A binding to the Dark Arts. A call for hatred to any who opposed the Dark Lord. Amelia was one of those who'd do anything to overthrow Lord Voldemort, but all her plans swirled down the drain the moment she received the accursed mark.

        Amelia curled up into a ball and screamed in both physical and emotional pain. It hurt so much. She wanted to cut her arm off so she'd never have to see or deal with the ugly mark, but she knew that wouldn't solve the problem. This pain was inevitable, she just needed to hide it. Taking deep, steadying breaths, she soothed her arm by squeezing it and slowly calmed down. Once she fell silent, except for the occasional whimper, Draco walked up to her.

        "Can I see it?"

        Although she wanted to pretend the Dark Mark didn't exist by cutting her whole arm off, she wasn't about to tell the younger boy that. So, she nodded, allowing him to gently push her sleeve back to reveal the Dark Mark on her left forearm. He ran his finger over it, tracing the skull.

        "It's really ugly, huh?" Amelia commented, laughing weakly to fill the silence.

        "It looks like a regular tattoo," Draco muttered. "But I've seen my father's mark long enough to know that no tattoo would radiate such... dark energy. I can actually feel its power..."

        "I'm stuck with it," Amelia wailed, feeling pain course through her arm once more. She bit back a scream as she continued, "I'll be bound to the Dark Lord for the rest of my pathetic life!"

        "Unless he kills you," Draco pointed out, slapping a hand back onto his mouth as he comprehended his own words. "Sorry, Knightley."

       "Gee, thanks, Malfoy," Amelia sighed. "It's not like he'll kill me, though," she added with an afterthought. "Apparently I'm a valuable asset to him."

        Draco furrowed his brows. "That's strange."

        Amelia smiled to lighten the situation. "Exactly. How am I a valuable asset when a puny, first-year ferret defeated me in a duel?"

        Draco rolled his eyes at the memory.

        It then hit Amelia how she was having an almost casual conversation with the younger boy. The moment seemed so innocent, so unreal, and she'd do almost anything to have it last. Almost as a reminder, her mark burned again, and she winced. Immediately, Draco's eyes flew toward her arm before glancing back up at her face.

        "You said he threatened to kill your friends?" he asked her rather suddenly. When she nodded again, he shot another question her way. "Who? Did that include Zabini?"

        Amelia saw the concern written on his normally expressionless face, which was also laced through his words. She then remembered with a jolt that her younger friends did have other friends that were in their year. Amelia also knew that Blaise was Draco's closest friend, along with Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott (she wasn't very fond of Parkinson, and she'd never actually spoken to Nott). Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle didn't seem too close to Draco, but they always trailed after him. She ran into the pair of boys once, and decided that they were a pair of lumbering fools. But, she wouldn't deny that they were extremely loyal.

        "Yes," she replied.

        Anger flashed in Draco's eyes, the first hard emotion that Amelia saw in them since she entered the room. "Then if he dies, it's your fault. He's my best mate. I won't let this happen." He gripped her shoulder (causing her to wince in pain, though he didn't seem to notice) and shook her. "Please, I beg you Amelia, I don't care what the Dark Lord says, but don't let Zabini die. His life is in your pathetic hands, but you're competent enough to protect him. I know it."

        Amelia's face reflected her shock at his words. Merlin, he really cared about his friends. It was because of that, she agreed. "I promise, Malfoy. I'll do everything in my power to keep him safe."

        Suddenly, golden light flashed around the pair. Strings of the light swirled in a majestical pattern, radiating and bouncing off the walls, until it wrapped around both their forearms. To her surprise, the light hit the darkness on her left arm. As she stared at the shimmery remains, it then hit her that the magic was a powerful form of the Unbreakable Vow. A similar thought seemed to have passed through Draco's eyes, because she saw awe in his grey orbs, and it turned into relief. Without warning, Draco leapt into Amelia's arms and hugged her tightly.

        As Narcissa entered the room with a tray with three cups of tea, she saw her son and Amelia Knightley sitting on the floor, embracing each other. She smiled softly at the sight and fought the urge to get out her old camera and take a picture.

        One side of her, the power-hungry side, hoped that they would get together so a Knightley would join the Malfoy family line, but her motherly side saw an understanding between them. She also saw a faint glimmer of gold on Amelia's left arm, a sign of a freshly-made Unbreakable Vow. As Narcissa thought about why they would make an Unbreakable, she remembered how Amelia mentioned how the Dark Lord threatened to kill her loved ones, and realised that Draco and Amelia probably had a few mutual friends at Hogwarts. They were, of course, both in Slytherin, and knew many of the same people.

        "I brought the tea, children." Narcissa set down the tray with a clank, and the silence was shattered.

        The pair broke apart, and Amelia smiled kindly at Draco. "I'll take care of Blaise," she assured the boy. "Though," she added, "I think we should get over our petty hatred if I'm going to help you."

        Draco cracked a smile. "Fine, Knightley. Just don't expect me to hug you ever again."

        "I'm not counting on it," she chuckled.

        "Have some tea," Narcissa suggested. "It'll take your mind off the matter for now."

        "Thank you, Narcissa," Amelia said.

        She took a cup from the older witch and sipped it lightly. Hiding back a grimace, she swallowed the mouthful and added, "Er— could you add some sugar?"

        "Of course," Narcissa smiled, hiding her awkwardness well. "Poppy! Be a dear and bring our young guest some sugar!"

        Poppy Apparated into the room and added three sugar cubes into Amelia's tea, as per the girl's polite request. Amelia cautiously took another sip, much smaller this time, snd smiled in content. "It's perfect, thank you, Poppy."

        A wide beam spread across the house-elf's small face. "Thank you, kind miss! Poppy appreciates compliments, especially from the extraordinary Amelia Knightley!" With that, Poppy took a great bow and Disapparated from the room.

        "What a sweet elf," Amelia complimented. "I love Poppy, Narcissa. If she ever disappoints you, which I'm sure she won't, I will gladly take her from you with open arms."

        Narcissa laughed lightly. "Poppy loves Draco too much to even dare disappoint any of us. However, we should be wary, because I think she likes you more than anyone else."

        After a few minutes of small talk, Amelia drained the rest of her cup and stood up. "I think I should get back home. It's nearly eleven."

        "Be careful," Narcissa warned her. "Since you're branded, and because your aunt and uncle are also Death Eaters, you're in more danger than ever. Unfortunately, I don't think you can relax much, at least until you go back to Hogwarts for your final year."

        "Thank you for having me, Narcissa," Amelia said gratefully. With that, she walked over to the fireplace, grabbed a handful of Floo Powder, and spoke. "Knightley Manor!"

        And she was gone. She hadn't departed from just the Malfoy Manor, but from her old life, too. Any childlike innocence she may have harboured had left the moment she made the promise to the young Malfoy heir. She would serve the Dark Lord as a faithful servant, and would also make it her duty to protect her friends. All night long, a single question rang through Amelia's mind. Will anything ever be the same again?

-

A/N - Well, that's the prologue!! I hope y'all liked it!! I spent HOURS editing this, adding on to it so it became longer, trying to make the writing ~fancier,~ etc.

Question: Do y'all prefer longer or shorter chapters? Shorter ones are easier to write, even if I try to make them long 😭 I consider short chapters being anywhere between 1k-5k words, while long chapters are anything more.

By the way, DRACO IS NOT A LOVE INTEREST! He's kinda like a younger brother. I don't really care if you ship characters (as long as the ages are appropriate), but please don't ship Amelia with Draco.

Anyway, if anything seems confusing or feels like it could be revised, comment your questions or suggestions here! ===>

Thank you for reading!!