Christmas was fast approaching but recent events had dampened spirits. Hagrid was on the run, there was no word whether he was dead or alive. Countless DA members had been caught at the party and tortured—and no word had come from my brother or Gennie either.
"I'm looking forward to Christmas; I'm not sure why everyone is acting like the Grinch who stole Christmas." Cole said to me one day in mid-December as we hung up wreaths of holly and tinsel around the room of requirement. "I loved that book, like Seuss is a genius."
"Considering many people want to kill us—and expose me, I'm not surprised." I snapped, and Cole's smile dropped, and the tinsel unravelled. "Sorry—I'm, just a bit tense."
"S'okay, I am too. Madam Pomfrey can't get a lot of my medication in, I'm getting half the dosage I should be, makes me more sensitive and crazy in general." Cole sighed, his high mood plummeting to sadness as we tried to fix our mistake. "But it's like an escape, you know?"
"I know," I replied, my mind not all there, stretching to the possibility of living until Christmas. I'd see Lacey again, finally get to talk to her about all of this—none of her letters were allowed through—and possibly try and get some reins on Hollie.
"So you still haven't worked out who's the mole?" Cole raised an eyebrow. "I would have thought you might have."
"So many people have betrayed me, yet it hurts just as much." I sighed. "I—I just don't' know who it could be. Who hates me?"
Of course, the obvious answer was Voldemort, then Cameron and the gang of death eaters. But my friends, my DA allies, they all seemed to like me. A poisonous voice in my brain whispered: well you thought Mark loved you, look where that turned out.
"I don't know man, but it's been like a month and nothing's happened. It might have been Cameron trying to scare us."
"That's not true and you know it." I said sharply, and finally we pinned the holly above the fireplace.
"Yeah, but it's nice to dream isn't it?" Cole said with a far-off smile. "Now, I don't know about you, but I need to finalise the food arrangements for tonight."
As a way of sending off the last week of term, we were throwing a DA Christmas party. We had pooled our money together to get the decorations, but we still needed decent food—the house elves stress was impacting on the food's quality—and Cole believed the solution was in this room, even if the party wasn't for two weeks.
"Hermione said you can't make food with magic." I pointed out, a pang in my chest at the thought of her. "So how are you going to fix that?"
"I'm not going to ask the room to make us food, I'm asking for the solution." Cole said with a Cheshire cat grin, running across the room, and sitting cross-legged on the floor. Placing his hands on the floor with his eyes shut, looking vaguely as if in prayer he spoke: "Oh mighty room of requirement that has given us refuge from evil toads and death eaters we ask you of one thing. We need nice food that doesn't taste sad for our amazing Christmas party which will have much swag."
I waited for a sign, the floor splitting or the ceiling raining with mince pies and alchohol—but nothing happened. Cole continued in his poisistion, looking as if he was trying to lay a large egg. After a moment, he opened his eyes, looking delighted.
"It worked!" he cried, and leaping upwards, he gave me a kiss on each cheek.
"Uh, it did?" I chuckled. "Cole, there's no food here."
Gently spinning me around, he pointed at the portrait that had always been over the fire. It was of a young girl in a blue dress, I'd never paid it attention before. But now—it was actually moving. The girl was giving Cole a serene wave like there were old friends.
"Ariana," Cole breathed out in awe.
"Do you mean the singer?"
"No! Ariana, as in Ariana Dumbledore," Cole said, and the cogs whirred in my head. Of course the portrait of Dumbledore's sister would be in here. "She can now move—obviously her exit is somewhere in Hogsmeade!"
After a moments silence the two of us spoke together:
"There's a way out."
"There's food!"
I couldn't decide which was better.
****
"Miss Stark? Professor Carrow wants to see you." Slughorn called, and I jumped almost scalding myself on my draft of living death. Camille was talking to him, obviously the one who passed on the message.
"Professor, you said nobody could leave until we've done the potion." I pointed out. "You said this is worth twenty percent of our final grade."
Slughorn walked right by me, up close he looked thinner and worried. "He paid me twenty galleons to let you leave, it's obviously important."
Well that wasn't worrying at all. Cole looked up at us both, clearly concerned. Giving him a reassuring smile I didn't trust myself, I packed up my things and followed Camille out of the room.
The two of us walked in silence as we walked out of the dungeons, not knowing each other that well. "Are you alright now, Camille?" I asked her. "Cole said you weren't feeling well."
She nodded, looking oddly ashamed as she pulled her sleeves over her hands. Noticing bandages wrapped tightly around her wrists, I averted my gaze. "Will you be alright for the party tonight?"
"Yeah, you know me if there's free food I'm there." She said in a mock cheery voice. Raising an eyebrow, she gave another smile. "It's nothing, I just—"
She cut off with a muffled scream, and I soon saw why. Going through the main entrance hall was Madam Pomfrey and several of the death eater guards—including Cameron—carrying a stretcher between them. The stretcher was covered in a white sheet, and a small pale hand was dangling out of it.
Feeling numb, I glanced automatically at Cameron for his reaction— and even he looked troubled by the clear dead body he was carrying. Who was it? What had happened? My heart pounded—what if it was Hollie?
"And everyone says Slytherin is the evil house, sis." Cameron spat as he passed us. "An eleven year old murdered in her bed—how disgusting."
"You can say nothing with all you've done, Cameron." Camille said cooly. "Isabelle Hastings death was an accident."
Scoffing, Cameron lifted the stretcher up higher and the crowd of teachers carried on with the small body of Isabelle Hastings.
"I—I, she doesn't go to DA, does she?" I said, my brain all in a fuzz as the two of us carried on. How did a first year die in her bed? "I've never seen her."
"No, she was scared of breaking the rules—but she hates, hated death eaters." Camille said, and I could see now why she was so shaken and distant. "How could somebody hurt her? She was tiny and loved birds and jazz music—completely normal."
"How—how did she die?" I stammered as we hurried up the steps to the Carrow classroom, feeling sicker with each step.
"Her throat was slashed in her sleep—she was choking so much she woke the other girls up when she was half-dead." Camille said in a dead voice. "She was going to come to the Christmas party too."
Feeling as if a cinderblock had been dropped onto my heart at the thought of a small girl—who I remembered seeing around now, with fluffy brown curls and freckles—being violently killed right before Christmas, before freedom awaited her.
Reaching the classroom, Camille knocked on the door. Screams came from inside, and the two of us exchanged worried looks until Carrow called, "Come in!"
Stepping through into the classroom, I nearly threw up again. It was the lower Ravenclaw class—first, second and third years—and they were performing the unforgivable curses.
And in the centre of the room, performing the cruciatius with skill and precision I'd only ever seen Cameron do—was Hollie.
Carrow was watching on looking very proud, and the third year boy was writhing and screaming under her control, a malicious smile on her face.
"Hollie!" I shouted involuntarily, and she looked up, the smile vanishing, stopping the spell. The boy started crawling away from her, looking terrified.
"He started it!" she cried. "He—he called me a murderer!"
He wasn't wrong.
"There's no problem here, Miss Stark," Carrow said with a pleasant smile. "Children need to learn how to vent their frustrations on the world."
"She killed Isabelle Hastings—my little sister!" the boy spat from the floor, and I recognised him as Warren Hastings, a boy I sometimes saw with Alia and Colin.
"I didn't!" Hollie screamed, and the boy winced, covering his face with his hands.
"Hollie, you're making a scene!" Camille hissed, and seized her by the arm, but Hollie pushed her off and stormed out of the room, swearing so colourfully she could paint two rainbows with it.
Staring after my little sister, I was stunned. Who had she become?
*****
Later on, Hollie was nowhere to be seen in the Christmas party. There was a subdued feeling in the room of requirement as we paraded around in Christmas jumpers with mugs of firewhisky—especially from the Ravenclaws.
The death of Isabelle Hastings had shaken everybody up, even if she wasn't well known. Her brother was sat in the corner of the room, downing glass after glass of firewhisky, and Camille was trying to comfort him to no avail.
"You okay, Cole?" I said, nudging him. He had been staring at the portrait of Ariana Dumbledore for the last ten minutes with a blank expression. I wasn't sure if he wanted to escape through there to break Gennie out, or if it was the fact a girl had died.
"It's nothing—just that girl, she—she was too young." Cole shook his head. "Is Hollie alright? I knew they were in the same room."
"Warren Hastings says she killed Isabelle." I said nervously, and going back five months I would have automatically said Hollie wouldn't kill anyone. Now I wasn't so sure.
"He's blinded with grief, ignore him." Cole said. "Poor lad—wait is it ten past?"
Checking my watch, I nodded. A smile burst onto Cole's face, one of those rare genuine ones. Kissing me on the cheek he dashed over to the portrait, and gave thumbs up to Ariana. Nodding, she walked off out of her portrait.
"Attention, members of Dumbledore's Army!" Cole shouted, and everybody looked up. "Obviously, today was meant to be a fun day—but well, things have changed. Isabelle will be in our hearts and thoughts," he nodded over to Warren, who gave a watery smile. "So this kind of dampens the surprise—but I organised somebody special to come in."
"A murderer to kill all the teachers?" somebody piped up, before Warren thumped them on the arm. "Cole, seriously, who?"
"A member of the Order of Phoenix," Cole said and he caught my eye. "Lacey Oswin,"
At that very moment, Ariana returned to her portrait, and the door opened, Lacey sticking her head out of the entrance. Letting out a mixture between a squeal and scream, I flew at her, practically wrapping my arms around her neck.
"Chill out little sister, it's only me." She giggled, but I felt close to tears because she smelt of baby formula and home cooked food and proved that we weren't trapped in her, another world was outside these worlds.
Pulling back, Lacey looked so fine, considering I'd spent the last few months worrying about her. Her hair was pulled back into a small bun, her face make-up free but happy, a gun strapped to her leg.
She noticed me staring at it. "Come on, I have no magic I need an advantage point." She turned to everybody else. "Cole called me here today to give news of the outside world—I know they're blocking letters and papers."
I then realised that she had a backpack slung over her shoulder, which was bulging with letters and newspapers and photos. "Just call me the teen mother version of mother Christmas," she said with a smile, sitting down on one of the tables.
Everybody gathered around as if it really was Christmas and Lacey pulled out letters from parents, news about whereabouts and even cookies and cakes from concerned relatives. Neville ended up with a long letter from his grandmother and Luna ended up with several copies of the Quibbler.
"My father's been talking about what's been happening in here," she said in her usual dreamy voice. "He's the only paper telling the truth—profits have gone up."
"Luna, that's not a good idea," Alia said, sounding uneasy. "I mean people are getting arrested for knowing Harry and Rory—he could get into serious trouble."
"Well he's been fine for four months," Luna said, almost sounding annoyed, gathering her papers up and going off in a huff.
Alia's mood soon turned around when Lacey gave her a photo and letter from Colin. With her eyes budding with tears she read the three paged letter, and glancing over her shoulder I saw the shaky picture of Colin surrounded by sheep.
"You don't have him in your bag as well, do you?" Alia said hopefully, her eyes now swimming with tears, and Lacey shook her head looking disappointed she couldn't deliver Colin. "I miss him so damn much.... I worry every day that they'll find him."
"He'll be fine; he blends right in with the sheep." Cole said, and Alia didn't even have the strength to sass him, settling instead for hugging Lacey and heading off to speak to Warren and Camille.
Now only the three of us and Ginny were left, and Cole turned hopefully to Lacey. "Have you—"
"No, we haven't been allowed in to see her." Lacey finished grimly. "We're trying everything to try and get her out but she's in maximum security like Sirius was. No visitors."
"Bull, I know Bellatrix Lestrange had visitors." Cole said angrily. "It's just because she's on our side!"
"There is a rescue mission in the works, Cole don't worry." Lacey said in a soothing voice.
"Well I won't be happy until I see her again," Cole said, looking furious. He got up, and grabbing an entire bottle of firewhisky left the room, Camille scurrying after him.
While Cole was hurting, I knew that we'd find a way to get Gennie back. But almost everybody else looked as if Christmas had come early, their faces brighter, smiles genuine and an oddly festive atmosphere was in the air.
"So how is everybody?" Ginny said desperately.
Lacey gave her a smile, passing a letter I recognised was in Mrs Weasley's handwriting. "They're fine. I mean, Arthur is getting tracked at work, but we're all okay. Bill and Fleur are hiding out in their own home; the boys are carrying on their business through the post.... Oh, and Maia's grown so much. She's already got a tooth."
She showed the two of us a picture of Maia who looked extremely adorable in a Christmas pudding outfit and hairband over her ginger hair as she chewed on a teething ring. "The costume was George's idea of course," she said fondly. "God, I miss her."
"Where have you been?" I asked worriedly.
"Getting all of these letters and gifts for everybody, this has taken me almost two weeks to do.... But it's worth it to see all these happy faces...." She trailed off. "Where's Hollie?"
Ginny and I exchanged a look, should we tell Lacey that she was accused of slashing a girl's throat? "Um, she wasn't feeling vey well," Ginny lied. "Rory, can I talk to you a minute?"
Nodding, I followed Ginny to the corner of the room, where Neville and Luna were waiting. "I didn't want to mention it in front of Lacey, but I thought you should know." Ginny said nervously. "Tomorrow the three of us are going to steal Gryffindor's sword from Snape's office. We need your help."
"What?!"
"Look, we figured that Harry's trying to kill him somehow," Neville said quietly. "And the sword killed the baslisk in second year, it has to help."
"Oh yeah, and if you get the sword what will you do with it then?"
"You can take it to him." Luna said with a smile.
"You're all mental, if we don't get caught—which we probably will—how am I even going to get out of the school with a giant sword?"
"Stab some people, like that bitch who's threatening to turn you in," Ginny said eagerly. "Look, Rory—you aren't going to be able to stay at Hogwarts much longer, that is a fact. And I know you want to stay with Malfoy and Hollie, but you're putting them in danger by staying."
Her words hit me like a slap to the face. I'd gotten too comfortable under my disguise and my secret double life with Draco. And if I did stay and discovered, then everybody would be worse off for hiding me.....
"I'll do it." I blurted out. "I just—I need to say goodbye to Draco first."
With bricks weighing down on my heart, I managed to slip out of the room without detection. I didn't want to leave him, but I'd have to if I wanted to survive. As much as I loved him with everything I had—if being here put him in danger, I'd rather never see him again than watch him die.
By the time I reached his head boy office, he was just coming out of his door. "Hi," he said brightly. "Did you—"
I cut him off by kissing him hardly, and we stumbled backwards into the office. Standing chest to chest with heavy breaths I said, "You weren't at the Christmas party."
"Well it's obvious, isn't it?" Draco replied. "Everybody thinks I'm the one to betray you."
"I know you wouldn't do that."
"You don't think that?" he whispered, something so vulnerable and raw about his voice.
"Draco, you are one of the only people in the world I trust entirely."
Looking relieved, Draco cupped my face in his hands, running a finger down my cheekbone. "I'm going to kiss you now."
And he did.
While I knew that Draco wouldn't betray me like that, relief was filing my veins and I felt so thankful for this boy who was fiercely kissing me with everything in him, that he loved me in the same way that I loved him.
"I'm leaving tomorrow." I blurted out, and the kissing stopped. "I'm stealing the Gryffindor sword and I have to go before I put you all in more danger."
Letting go of Draco, I sunk to the floor, the mood lost. As he sat in front of me with those wide grey eyes, I felt my heart break again. How could I ever leave him? I knew I had to, but everything was breaking inside of me that after so little time we were going to be pulled apart again.
Expecting him to fall apart, I felt I was in a dream when he whispered, "I'll come with you."
"What?"
He let out a little laugh. "Rory, I'll come with you. Do you know how long I've wanted to get away from this place? I want to be with you, I want to help end this."
Leaning forward, I kissed him again, but this time it was different.
Things were fiery and rushed but in the exciting passionate way, and soon enough we were on the floor, the kisses softer and feather-like on shoulders and collarbones, fingers brushing skin underneath fabric.
Both flustered we pulled away from a kiss, I felt like Draco was a drug. I wanted him, I needed him like a heart needs an arrow, a ship needs a compass and a rope needs an anchor. His eyes were wild and bright, his face flushed but he was smiling so hard it looked like his face might split.
Feeling nervous I knew immediately what I wanted; one last night where we could be normal teenagers in love, before we had to try and escape this fortress. I wanted to show Draco how much I loved him--how he was mine, and I was his.
"Do you want to do this?" I whispered, my heart beating in my ears as I pressed a gentle kiss to his collarbone, fiddling with the top button of his shirt.
"Y-yes, yes, of course. I—I love you so much, Aurora," He stammered, so nervous and vulnerable I intertwined my hand with his and kissed his knuckle. "Do you want to?"
"I love you Draco--yes," I whispered in his ear, and sharing a shy, hesitant smile, we kissed again, fabrics being lost as we became as close as two people could be in this world.
____________________________
A/N Well this happened *shady moon emoji*
Song on the side is oddly relevant and also about two particularly members of a certain band.
So anyway, next chapter is going to be explosive—and the next two. What to expect: Rory's tattoos, the mole revealed, Hollie really going off the deep end, Gennie and a lot of blood.
I have nothing else to say apart from we had to get 3-4 summer reading books for English and I picked 7 #sorrynotsorry