In the midst of war and chaos, Eve struggles to find and keep her true love - but also herself.
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Eve and Regulus desperately wish to find their way out of their siblings' shadows - but they might just find that the darkness is the best place to be...
"If Eve was as ruthless as the man in the papers, she would kill the Black's first. She would do it slowly, over the years, so they would experience the same indescribable pain they put their children through. And right as they finally began to believe they could live with it, with the agony and hurt, she would do it again, and again, and again."
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EVELYN STARED DOWN AT THE morning paper, eyes wide in horror. The Daily Prophet was known, amongst pure-blood gossip, to hide certain things - the whole company was easy to blackmail. Every editor, publisher, writer - hell, even the interns had some deep, dirty secret that they would do anything to keep secret.
But Eve thought no amount of blackmail would be enough to cover this up.
"Eve...." Narcissa said quietly. Her voice was loud in the nearly silent great hall. It seemed every the Marauders, with their never ending pranks, had called a hold for today.
"MUGGLE FAMILY MURDERED IN THEIR HOME; ONE SURVIVOR, FOURTEEN YEAR OLD MUGGLEBORN WITCH STILL IN CRITICAL CONDITION AT ST. MUNGOS," the paper declared, words stark and harsh against the white paper, and Eve looked away, covering her mouth. She thought she might actually throw up, if she had to read the headline again.
"My father thinks it's the same bloke from last summer," Eve heard Barry whisper, "You know, the one who set fire to that muggle neighborhood and left that creepy mark above it."
Eve tuned herself back into the conversation, glancing at Barry in disbelief. "Your father sent you a letter?"
Barry laughed bitterly. "Of course not. My mother did."
They all winced. Rabastan reached out and gently touched the back of Barry's hand, and Eve watched as Barry glanced at him, face going soft.
Her and Cissa exchanged a look. The two boys had been flirting for what seemed like ages now; the night before, Andi and Bella discussed setting up a betting pool.
"This isn't the way to go about getting power," Eve switched the subject, scowling. "Politics would be much better. All this - this fighting, this arson, the bloodshed - whoever this man is, he's going to start a war. And a pointless one, at that. He'll lose."
She glanced up from the hole she had been glaring into the table and blushed a brilliant red. All her friends were staring at her, and then a few more - in particular, Bella was shooting Lucius a look, like, See what I mean? and Severus Snape gazed at her from his spot between his two sixth year friends, head tilted in consideration.
"Sometimes the only language people understand is violence," Regulus said quietly. He lifted his right hand from beneath the table; it came up shaking worse than even Sirius' had been, and this time several people bodily flinched. Bella jumped, leaning towards Andromeda, who turned whiter than a ghost; and Narcissa closed her eyes at once, turning her whole head away, like she was offended or scared by the sight in front of her.
