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 Chapter 8: Truth

The next morning was, if possible, worse.

Rhea woke up with a splitting headache. She kept staring at the blank, white wall, wincing as the memories of the night before flooded her mind.

Everything was much clearer.

She finally found out the reason for the return of Rose Weasley. She finally understood the redhead’s thirst for revenge.

But there was one thing she still hadn’t figured out. There was one thing she still didn’t understand. Her feelings for a certain black-haired person haunted her mind every waking moment. She hated the way she felt. It made her feel weird and wrong on many levels. Rhea was sure she had never felt such a strong emotion before. It warmed her to the very core of her heart.

Her feelings scared her.

Rose obviously hated it. Rhea wondered whether it was Rose’s disapproval and hatred for the way that she felt that was fueling her emotions even further. Rhea had finally given into the demands of Rose Weasley. The blonde could feel the redhead inside her mind, silent yet smug at the same time.

The urge to see Albus was too overwhelming. Rhea glanced at the clock desperately, willing for it to skip the next forty eight hours, so that she could be with her dark-haired, green-haired angel.

Stop. It.

Rhea groaned internally. “Good morning to you too, sunshine.” She had no qualms about talking out loud to the voice in her head while she was safe at home. Nobody would hear her there. There wouldn’t be anyone to shoot her weird looks saying ‘Are you mad or something?’ written all over their faces.

Stop with the feelings for Al. That is my cousin.

“I do not have feelings for your cousin. Your mixed feelings for Scorpius don’t allow me to.” Rhea noted with surprise that her tone sounded almost bitter.

For once, I’m thankful that I find my murderer attractive.

“So, Weasley, you really are attracted to your best friend’s twin.” Rhea stated, smug.

So, Sanchez, you really are attracted to the cousin of the person who brought you back to life.

Rhea stopped in her tracks on the way to the kitchen with a glass mug in her hand and turned to glare at the empty air at the general direction of Rose’s voice. She could just pretend that Rose was standing in front of her, being a nuisance, when in reality, Rose was inside Rhea. Or she was inside Rose. The body was Rhea’s, her thoughts were first Rose’s, and then suddenly, there were two of them inside her mind, which was starting to get awfully cluttered.

This needed to stop.

The confusion, the mixed feelings, the contradicting thoughts, all would one day become too much for the fragile blonde to handle. One day she won’t be able to take it anymore. One day she would fall apart. And that day wasn’t far away. Rhea could feel it. And when that day finally came, Rhea would be in big trouble. Her lies, hidden secrets, everything would be out for the world to see. She was going down; and Rose Weasley was going down with her. That was a promise.

Her eyes suddenly felt heavy. The feeling was familiar. Rhea knew that another memory was on its way.


“Ms. Malfoy, are you sure you are capable for this job?” A stout man behind a table asked her. She wanted to yell that she won’t do it and run away from the men surrounding her, the fat man behind the desk, from her father standing behind the man, discreetly nodding his head pointedly at her.

Of course she wasn’t going to agree for the job. She wasn’t a murderer like them. She locked eyes with her father, bright blue eyes staring into the cold grey ones devoid of any emotion. Her father stared back, eyes unforgiving. Swallowing, she turned her gaze back to the man. “I – yes, sir. I’m sure I can do it.” She replied, stomach coiling with disgust at the ghost of a smile on the man’s face which lasted for a millisecond.


“I won’t do it, papa!” she yelled, crossing her arms in defiance, flopping on the sofa at her father’s place. Her father had somehow had enough money to live in a luxurious bungalow while his own daughter was kept at a dingy one-roomed hut.

“You disgrace the Malfoy name.” her father snapped.

“Well,” she snapped back, “Draco Malfoy, maybe that’s because I’m Rhea Sanchez and not Malfoy. I do not want to be a Malfoy.” With that, she pulled herself off the sofa and stormed off.

“Rhea! Come back here this instant!” she could hear her father shouting. She paid no heed to his words, breaking her promise to her mother.

She hated Draco Malfoy, her devil of a father, from his blonde hair she had inherited to his stone-like heart.

Rhea could feel Rose shocked to silence in her head, the sound of the glass mug in her hand shattering into a million pieces sounding in her ears.

They did not sign up for this.

Hello, Rhea Sanchez, daughter of Draco Malfoy and sister to Scorpius and Freya Malfoy.

Rose’s words had no effect on the shocked blonde. She slid to the floor, not caring about the shreds of broken glass on the floor, cutting into her arms, legs.

Numb with pain from the bleeding glass cuts all over their body, Rhea Sanchez and Rose Weasley broke into tears, their tears, their pain, perfect accompanies for each other.

And hey everyone! This is like, my comeback chapter which I wrote in about fifteen minutes because I had a lot of muse for Rhea at that moment and I missed you guys!

The next chapter will come sometime in April so keep a look out for that! Love you all, and thank you for all the support you are giving Rose, Rhea and me!

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