The Mudblood

Chapter 123 : Year 6

https://www.quotev.com/29451473 found this picture and even though the ferret isn't white he reminds me of our little Smellfoy.

"Whose skulls do you reckon those are?" Malfoy asked, allowing his head to fall to the side as he studied the skulls displayed on Alecto's desk. The Muggle Studies classroom seemed to have elevated in temperature since the Carrows left, and our skin was no longer cold as we lay unclothed on top of one of the tables, his arm around my shoulders and my head resting in on his chest. Despite the fact that outside the windows it was the deep chill of night and within the walls our candle had died, I felt warmer and lighter than I had in months—years—maybe even my entire life. There was something liberating about this intimacy, about the way his fingers traced lazy circles on my arm and the way we were able to just lie here naked and speak casually about the human skulls that decorated the room.

"Hopefully they're fake," I suggested with a shrug. When he pivoted his head back toward me, his expression was dubious.

"She wanted to murder you just a few hours ago—"

"All right, so they're probably real and they're probably Muggles'. Is this really what you want to talk about right now?"

"Well," he began as his lips curved upward, "I don't really want to talk about anything—"

"You are always going to be a deplorable git, aren't you?" I interjected as I elbowed him in the side and turned my head away. "I think you've had enough of Lainey Fitzroy for one night."

"I don't," he purred against my throat before nipping playfully on my flesh. Even though I let out an instinctual laugh, I still managed to pry myself from his arms before his enticing biting could have its desired effect on me.

"Stop that. You know I can't resist. And don't make a sexual comment," I added when he opened his mouth to speak. As I slipped off the table to the rigid stone ground, I glanced back to see that he was eyeing my form through the darkness. His form was quickly being enveloped by darkness, though, by that black aura of lust that had characterized him since shortly after I'd straddled his hips. There was a strange lightness to it, though, like stars twinkling through the night.

"You're ogling at me, Mudblood," he mused through the dark fog. "It's getting pathetic, if you ask me—"

"I can't even see you right now," I countered as I reached down to pick up the sweater that Malfoy had so carelessly thrown across the room. "You've been devoured by the lust aura, no shocker there."

"Well, then, you'll have to feel your way back over here to find me—"

"Yes, I'll feel my way by punching through the darkness until I find your face." I gave him a condescending simper before throwing on my sweater, and when my head resurfaced, I found that the aura had faded enough to display his scowl. "Only joking. I have to be nice to you now, don't I, considering we're...together?"

"Are we?" he challenged as he swung his bare legs over the side of the table and raised his eyebrows at me. "I hadn't noticed."

"Well," I droned, picking up my panties and slipping my legs through them, "I know that you could never possibly be seen with the Slytherin Mudblood—excuse me, Potter's sister—"

"Now, what gave you that idea?"

I chucked one of his shoes at him, and he swore under his breath when it collided with his shoulder. "Don't make me add your skull to Alecto's collection, Malfoy."

"Aren't you supposed to call me Draco now?" he teased as he strolled toward me, his body still fully exposed.

"Do you want me to sound as pitiful as Parkinson?" I questioned as I shimmied into my skirt.

"I called you by your first name—"

"Once, and I do hope it doesn't happen again. Doesn't sound right on your tongue—"

"Lainey," he murmured, walking his fingers up my neck toward my ear. I forgot that I was supposed to be zipping up my skirt and accidentally let it drop back to the floor. "Well, if that happens every time I say your name—"

"Get stuffed, Malfoy—"

"Why are you still wearing this?" he asked as he grabbed at the fabric of my sweater and eyed it like I was wearing the skin of a dead rat.

"We need to go," I reminded him as I snatched it out of his grasp and bent to retrieve my skirt again. Luckily, he was already padding over to gather his clothing and so I was no longer mentally hindered by the presence of his nudeness.

"Go where?" he prompted as he stepped into his slacks.

"I dunno, to bed?" I offered as I nodded toward the night sky out the window.

"Mm, you're right. A bed would be nicer than the floor."

Rolling my eyes, I finally secured my skirt around my waist and crossed my arms over my chest. "Are you always going to be trying to get in my pants now?"

"No," he scoffed as he slid his arms into the sleeves of his button down. "Sometimes I'll try to get under your shirt, I reckon."

"You are insufferable," I groaned, throwing my head back as I hopped back onto the table to put my socks on. "Lucky for you, I'm the only person who will ever tolerate you and might actually permit your attempts to seduce me." I smirked at him as I yanked my socks up to my knees, but my expression faded slightly at the sight of the hazy white substance that was overpowering the dwindling blackness. "Your aura's not really black anymore, though. It's more...like...a blinding light now. I saw the whiteness there the whole time we were...you know, but I first noticed it happen in the—er—the cave. I think...well... I think it might be the aura of love."

Malfoy was the one to roll his eyes this time as he aggressively buttoned up his shirt. "Really, Mudblood? You're trying to get me to say it again? Once wasn't enough to elevate your low self-esteem?"

"I don't need you to say it again. I already know that you looove me," I taunted as I jumped off the table. "I've...known for a while, actually. I hear what you said to Moaning Myrtle last year."

"Which time?" he asked, unaffected.

"Oh, so there were multiple times?"

"Did you expect me to talk to you about you?" he grunted, avoiding my eyes as he grabbed his wand and stored it in his pocket.

"You seem to talk to a lot of people about me," I noted as I strolled toward him at a leisurely pace. "Myrtle, Blaise... I Saw the conversation you had with him after you ditched that Quidditch match last year. You said...you never have loved me and you never would."

I stood before him now, less than an arms length away, and it was becoming difficult for him to evade my gaze given that he and I were both finished dressing ourselves. There was nothing left to do but meet my eyes, and when he did, his were ominous.

"I'm sure you'd probably also believe me if I told you that I never lie."

My eyes narrowed as I studied his mask of aloofness. "Why would you bother lying to him about it? He's your friend—"

"You should know by now that I'm not good with...emotions." His jaw shifted as he stared past me. "I didn't want anyone to know."

"You told Myrtle."

"She's dead. And she's insane. Even if she told someone, they wouldn't have believed her. I didn't want you to find out."

"Why?"

"This is why," he blurted, motioning to me, to him, and to the classroom that we'd just made love in.

"You didn't want to have sex with me?" I questioned doubtfully.

"No, I certainly did," he clarified, his cheek twitching suggestively. "But...what I said in the woods—during the snowball war—it's still true. I can't be what you want me to be. I can't be what...I want me to be. Even if we abandon the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters and my parents, I'm not...I'll never be like...like Weasley." His nose scrunched in the way it did when he found something distasteful, but it was rare that his disgust was aimed at himself. "I'll never be a good boyfriend, a good husband, a good father..."

Any insensitivity I'd previously felt crumbled with the rawness of his declaration. My thoughts traveled back to the vision I'd had of an older Draco, a Draco who would have a wife and a son and treat them both with respect, admiration, and acceptance, all while maintaining the arrogance and bluntness that were rooted in his character. He would be the kind of man that, despite my initial rejection of the idea, I would love to have as a life partner.

"I was a bad girlfriend," I told him through a sigh. "I kept secrets from Fred—loads of secrets. I wasn't always honest with him, and I wasn't fair to him either. I would have made an awful wife for him. There never would be a time where I would have been fully devoted to him...because there would have always been you."

His face mollified with that, with the admission of the fact that I'd been in love with him—or at least infatuated with him—long before he had known. Before he ego could swell past the point of possible deflation, I plunged on.

"I know I'll be an awful mother. My real mother died before I can remember, and my adoptive mother was..." I paused, thinking of how his own father had brought upon Lisa's demise but then brushing past the thought before I could dwell on it. "Well, she wasn't there long enough for me to really know how it's done. I know, though, that I'm not nurturing enough, I'm not caring enough, and I'm not...strong enough. I'm too broken—maybe we both are. But...maybe that's okay. Maybe we'll be horrible at everything we ever do, but...at least we'll be horrible together."

A grin tugged at his lips as he cocked his head to the side. "I'm sure you'll be horrible enough for the both of us, Fitzroy. At least marrying you I'll be able to rest easy knowing that I'm not the intolerable spouse or the naggy parent."

I wanted to roll my eyes at his banter, but instead I bit my lip and asked, "Is that...really happening? I mean...we've glossed over it a few times but...would you actually want to marry me?"

"Slow down, Mudblood, will you? I need to see if I can even handle one day with you as my girlfriend before I commit to anything longer than that."

"Is that a thing now too? I'm your...girlfriend?"

"Don't expect a formal invitation in front of the entire school," he grumbled in reference to Fred's relationship proposal. "I think I've done more than enough—kissing you in the Great Hall and all. From here on out, all the effort's on you."

"Ah, yes, I'm sure Draco Malfoy not being the assertive one in this relationship will last so long."

"At the rate we're going, I doubt this relationship will last past the end of the week."

"You're giving us that much time, are you? I'm betting twenty-four hours."

"Too bad you've got no money to gamble with," he mused, shooting me a wink. Though winking had always been Fred's signature move, nothing about this so far resembled my relationship with Fred at all. This was entirely new territory, and not because it felt more thrilling or romantic, but because it felt...steady, permanent. I'd thought I was going to marry Fred when I first started dating him, but the consistency of our relationship deteriorated quickly, leading to confusion and uncertainty at every bend.

With Malfoy, even though we joked about the duration of our relationship, I knew exactly where it would lead. If he did get sick of me within a day, it wouldn't matter because he'd be forced into marrying me anyway. My only hope was that it never got to that point; that we could remain committed enough that he wouldn't have to learn of the Vow that bound us, the Vow that in no way increased or decreased my desire to be with him.

∆

The day after becoming Draco Malfoy's girlfriend was not one of romantic bliss—or, more accurately, a day in which I was ridiculed by all of Slytherin House—but one of impenetrable sleep. With the exhaustion from the previous night's activities, I slept until nearly seven in the evening that Sunday, which was much later than I'd ever slept even during my depressive stages. Melancholy did not plague me now, though; I felt energized when I finally awoke due to the completeness and contentedness that had resulted from the new status of our relationship.

It wasn't necessarily the fact that I had a boyfriend that was bringing about such elation; my happiness did not derive from Malfoy, but rather from the liberation from the lies that had weighed on me. For years I'd denied my attraction to Malfoy, the natural feelings for him that festered within me. It had always felt immoral to harbor the slightest bit of intrigue or infatuation for the prick, but despite all we'd endured, or perhaps because of it, I couldn't dispel my sentiments for him, and now I didn't feel that I had to.

Still, though...I was hesitant to tell anyone about the events that had transpired the previous night. I had no intention of explaining the intimate details, of course, but even admitting to Astoria when I finally woke up that Malfoy was my boyfriend was daunting. In the end, I opted not to divulge any unnecessary information, and simply asked if she'd seen him at all that day. "No," was the answer, and "I've been creating beauty products in the lavatory with the occasional break to snog Vince" was the explanation.

When I emerged in the common room, I asked Ashley and Crabbe if they'd seen him, and Ashley informed me that he was on Head Boy duty for the rest of the evening. Melody, who sat in an armchair reading, proceeded to ask me if I'd given the Carrows the proper amount of hell in last night's detention.

"I don't think any amount would ever be enough for them," was my reply. For once, she actually agreed. And, for once, she was looking at me rather than her book, trying to decipher what exactly had occurred with Malfoy and the Carrows through my facial expressions. The hint of concern in her green eyes was enough to unsettle me, and I quickly escaped the common room before anyone else could pry.

After visiting the kitchens and acquiring some food from the house elves, I was going to return to my dormitory and go back to sleep, but while I was strolling toward the Slytherin common room, I saw a faint light shining deep within the dungeon corridor, where all of the cells resided. It could have been one of the Carrows, but I went along with my instincts and approached the person anyway.

As I got close enough that whoever it was might be able to spot me, I slipped into one of the empty dungeon cells and retrieved a moderately sized rock. When the sound of footsteps grew louder, I chucked the rock out into the corridor, wincing slightly as it collided loudly with the stone ground. All noise ceased as the light of the wand went still, and I heard him clear his throat before demanding, "Who's there?"

Smirking, I drew an object out of my pocket, but it wasn't my wand; it was a piece of black licorice. As soon as his wand started casting shadows on the corridor walls in search of me, I jumped out of the cell and extended the licorice toward him. Before he could react, the candy magically elongated, flaring out at him like a whip and wrapping around his body like a rope. His wand extinguished as it clattered on the floor, drenching us in darkness as I reeled him in by the tough cord of licorice.

"What the bloody—Fitzroy!" he exclaimed when our eyes adjusted to the lack of light, and he found that he was staring down at my face. "Are you mad? I almost used a Full Body-Bind Curse on you—"

"Hm, well, it appears I'm the one that's bound you," I sang as I pulled the licorice until it was taut. His motion was restricted, but he was wiggling and struggling to free his arms...until I brought my cool fingertips to the heat of his flesh above his shirt's collar. With that simple touch, his body went rigid, allowing me to trail my fingers up his jaw, along the stubbly cheek. "What do you think I'm going to do to you, Malfoy?"

"H-How should I know?" he stammered, his eyes watching warily as my other hand began to toy with the buttons of his shirt. "You just—attacked me in this dungeon—"

"Did I scare you?" I teased as I undid the first button, exposing the top of his pale torso. "I s'pose I've been a naughty girl. Perhaps you should lock me up in this sexy cell—"

"I'm assuming you want me to join you?" he inquired flatly.

My hands fell to my hips, allowing the licorice to slacken, but he didn't budge as I glowered up at him. "You're not playing along, my love."

Malfoy's nose scrunch was evident even in the darkness. "My love?"

"Fine, do you prefer 'honey', or 'sweetums', or 'my beloved Draco'?"

"I prefer...'Malfoy'," he admitted, brushing off the licorice and kicking his feet out of it. "I prefer if what happened last night doesn't change anything—"

"Doesn't change anything?" I repeated incredulously. "How do you expect what happened last night not to change anything? We're—I mean...we are dating, aren't we?"

"Sure, but that doesn't mean I want you to call me 'your love' or—you know—start being nice to me."

"I just scared you half to death and ensnared you in a Licorice Lasso. Did you find that to be an act of kindness?"

"Licorice Lasso," he murmured as the realization dawned on him. "A Weasley invention, I presume?"

I chewed on my lip and wished that it were dark enough that I couldn't see his expression of disapproval. "I'm anticipating a seriously heated discussion and I'm not sure that I'm in the mood."

"You're expecting me to be an over-controlling boyfriend who demands that you abandon what you love most?"

"I don't—I don't love Fred—"

"I'm talking about pranks," he interjected dryly, his eyes roving my face suspiciously. "I know you love your pranks, so I won't stop you. As for Weasley...I assumed that after last night, you were completely over him. Correct me now if my assumption was wrong."

"It wasn't," I assured him with sincerity. "It isn't. Fred is still...important to me, though. Like...a brother. I can't excommunicate him entirely. We still share a love for pranking, but that's the only love we share. If that makes you uncomfortable...then I'll stop—stop talking to him, stop using his prank products. If we're going to do this—this relationship—then I want to do it right. I want us to be honest, and I don't want to do anything that hurts you. Well, that bad, anyway."

He licked his lips, his eyes dancing playfully with my last comment. After a moment, he bent down and picked up the licorice, admiring its length. "I don't mind it. I enjoyed being bound by you, surprisingly. Turned me on a bit."

"Really?" I challenged with raised eyebrows. "Looked more like it made you poop your pants with fear a bit."

A scowl overcame his features as he slapped one end of the licorice on my wrist, wrapping it around my arm with magic that rendered any hope of escape futile. "Looks like you're my prisoner now, Fitzroy," he growled while yanking me toward him. His body was warm in this heatless dungeon, and his breath was minty and fresh against my cheek as he murmured, "Should I lock us up in that cell and have my way with you?"

A laugh escaped my throat as I shook my head. "That doesn't even sound like a punishment to me, Head Boy."

"Good," he breathed against my neck before pressing the full weight of his lips to my skin. Excitement coursed through me, but it was short lived as wisps of light began to surface on the walls, bringing with it sweeping footsteps. Whipping around, I wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or embarrassed that it was the Headmaster who had found us on the verge of bonking in the dungeons.

"This again," Snape spat as he stalked up toward us and pointed his blinding wand in our faces. "Didn't you two learn your lesson after yesterday's punishment?"

"Ironically, yesterday's punishment only led to more snogging," I commented nonchalantly. Malfoy was tense beside me, shooting me nervous and almost reprimanding glances.

"You are both the Dark Lord's representatives at this school," Snape reminded me with his usual coldness. "When the other students see your disregard for the rules, they begin to believe they can get away with the same actions. I could have stopped the Carrows from punishing you, but it is more difficult for me to make excuses for others. Do you enjoy seeing your peers tortured and chained? Do you like the idea of others suffering what you suffered last night?"

"We didn't do that much suffering," I insisted, but when Snape's expression soured even further, I sighed and added, "but, no, I don't. We'll behave...in public. This is not really public. You're the only loon crazy enough to venture down here, I believe—"

"I'm here to scold you for your rebelliousness, as well as be reassured of your good health. The Dark Lord would be displeased if his precious Seer were to become fatally injured." Whether he was being sarcastic or not was unclear, so I chose to keep my mouth shut as he continued. "He wishes to see you both at the Manor over the spring holiday. For what I am unaware. You have been taking your potion at night, haven't you?"

"Yes... Do you think he wants to see me so that he can dig into my mind?"

Snape ignored my question, and instead, rather grudgingly, said, "Return to the common room before I take away House points from Gryffindor, Fitzroy, or revoke your authority as Head Boy, Malfoy. And next time you plan to make an excursion down here, be mindful that your voices—and other noises—echo."

∆

The announcement that Lainey Fitzroy and Draco Malfoy were formally an item did not meet as much animadversion as I had expected. When I arrived late for breakfast on Monday, the truth had already been spewed from Malfoy's big mouth, and Pansy Parkinson was the only one who seemed miffed by the notion. I was probably the most surprised out of anyone, and not because we were dating, but because I'd expected him to want to keep the entire affair a secret.

Other than the fact that we sat beside each other at meals, with the seventh years on his right and the Slytherin Six at my left, nothing else altered at the Slytherin table. Conversations went on as they usually did, more boisterous and clamorous than any of the other Houses'. No one pried into the details of our relationship—or what had happened between us and the Carrows on Saturday night—and the specifics of that evening remained a secret between the two of us...until I entered the Muggle Studies classroom after breakfast on Monday morning.

We'd taken great care to ensure that there was no trace of what we'd done in this room, and Alecto, standing behind her desk with her sinister smile, seemed to have no suspicions. Astoria, though, immediately scrunched her nose, sniffed the air, and said, "It smells like sex in here."

Heat surfaced in my cheeks, and I avoided answering Astoria's observation by hastily assuming my seat. She was still sniffing and contemplating when she plopped down beside me.

"It really does," Anderson agreed with Astoria as he took the chair on her other side. "Hey, Pucey, have you and Stuffed Crabbe been banging in here?"

"Banging what?" Ashley questioned from where she sat before us, scribbling notes on her clipboard.

Anderson's eyebrows shot up beneath his shaggy hair. "Um, each other?"

A dramatic gasp expelled from Ashley's mouth as she dropped her clipboard on her desk. "I would never hit Crabbey!"

"You slap him whenever he's being dumb, which is often," I commented in an attempt to keep this conversation off track.

"I mean banging in a good way," Anderson amended before Ashley could make a retort. "As in the fun activity that couples sometimes do, you know?"

"Is it a sport?" Ashley inquired, screwing her eyebrows together as she pondered.

"For some people," Melody droned without glancing up from her vampire encyclopedia. "Like Greengrass."

"I do not bonk for sport...anymore," Astoria insisted with an upturned nose. "Vince is the only boy I sleep with now, I'll have you know."

Anderson's face lit up at her public confession, but when he glanced in her direction, his face quickly morphed into an expression of confusion as his eyes focused on a spot beyond me.

"Hey... Hey, Palmer, toss me that thing under your desk," he commanded, drawing Noah Palmer from whatever he'd been scrawling on his parchment. When the boy peeked beneath his desk, he displayed instant disgust at what he found there.

"Is that...?"

"Whoa!" Carl Vaisey exclaimed as he reached beneath Noah and retrieved the undergarment that everyone was now gawking over. "I thought everyone was naked because I just drank some Nice&Nude, but it looks like some of you are stripping in Muggle Studies. Brilliant—"

Astoria inhaled sharply. "Lainey, is that your nasty old bra?"

"Well, what do you know," Melody drawled with a wry smirk as she glanced up at my bra, which Vaisey was dangling above his head for all to witness. "Fitzroy finally disposed of it."

"Ew, this is the Mudblood's?" Vaisey sneered as he chucked the bra at me. It landed on my desk, as old and broken as it had been since Malfoy ripped it off of me on Saturday night.

"This means...that Mud bonked Mal in this room!" Anderson proclaimed as he nearly jumped out of his chair. "We thought Malfoy was joshing with us when he said you two were dating! You actually slept with him. On which table? Ooh, did you do it next to Alecto's skulls?"

"Gross, Anderson," was my grumbly response, but this was how the rumors began. Malfoy and Fitzroy "dating" was one thing, but the truth that we'd had sex, discovered by my rotten old bra, was enough to set the Slytherins into a frenzy. Throughout the next two weeks, stories flew around the school about how the Carrows had forced Malfoy to sleep with me as a punishment, since the idea that a pureblood would willingly sleep with a half-blood was outrageous. People began to jump to the conclusion that I was now pregnant, which would explain why Malfoy would stoop so low as to date me, and that our baby would be a half-blood monstrosity.

Slytherins. The most inconsiderate, prejudiced assholes this school had ever seen. Thankfully, not all of them were so cruel. Astoria was ecstatic, and Ashley kept enthusing about how we could go on a quadruple date once Harper woke up from his Melody-induced coma. Melody was not so chuffed by this idea, and every time Ashley began make a proposition about where our date would be, Melody would continuously repeat the word "No" until Ashley became so disgruntled that she stormed off in a tantrum.

Malfoy handled everyone's criticism surprisingly well...mostly by hexing anyone who giggled at us in the corridors and giving detentions when he overheard someone whispering crude notions about us. I approved of his methods, not because it really bothered me that people thought such foul things, but because he wasn't backing down to others' judgment in the cowardly way that he always had. Perhaps it was because he cared so deeply for me, or perhaps it was because of Voldemort's looming presence over the wizarding world, but Draco Malfoy no longer had the desire to maintain his public appearance, and it was a flattering quality he'd adopted.

By the time March began, the talk of our "half-breed baby" (yes, it had jumped from half-blood to half-breed rather rapidly) had waned, and I was starting to hope that Hogwarts as whole might move on and accept that this was reality when Ryan Harper marched up on the Slytherin table at breakfast and slammed his hands onto the table as if it had attacked him.

"You snogged Mal on this table?" he demanded loudly enough for half of the Great Hall to hear. People were already staring at him since he was wearing a skimpy hospital gown, and I was so shocked by his sudden appearance that I barely registered the words he'd said.

"I—you—You're awake," I stammered as a loopy smile began to stretch on my face.

"You did snog him on this table," Harper decided as he slid onto the bench beside Melody, who wrinkled her nose at him.

"Why are you alive?" she asked, but he waved her off like an annoying gnat.

"You snogged Mal on the same table that you snogged me."

"She does enjoy snogging on top of tables," Malfoy reckoned as he bit into an apple. A sly smirk slid across his lips when he added, "Among other things."

My jaw dropped as the seventh years began to snicker, but Harper was unfazed, his brilliant blue eyes trained unshakably on me.

"You snogged Mal on this table—"

"Fine, yes, I did—"

"And then you two got tortured—"

"How do you even know this?" I questioned in disbelief. "Didn't you just wake up?"

"And then you two bonked?" Harper concluded with the slightest tilt of his head.

"You're a little behind," Melody observed as her eyes skimmed her book. "Some might say you're the last to know."

"I have known subconsciously since the moment it happened," Harper snipped, finally allowing himself to glower at her. "Even in my coma, I was aware of it because I just love them so much."

Malfoy's face contorted with distaste while I just shook my head.

"How did you know? Does Madam Pomfrey know?"

"Vaisey's in the hospital wing because of a mild potions overdose, and he told me everything. And I mean everything." Harper wiggled his eyebrows as he glanced toward my stomach, and Anderson snorted water from his nose.

"You think she's pregnant!" Anderson exclaimed with a laugh.

"She better be. The only reason I came down here in this gown is because I wanted to claim my title as godfather," Harper explained as he motioned to his hospital garb.

"I am not pregnant!" I almost shouted, causing even Snape's eyes to slide in my direction.

"Well, this is disappointing," Harper sighed. "One day, though, right? I mean, he was good enough that you'll do him again, right?"

"Harper—"

"Why is that even a question?" Malfoy snapped, even more appalled than I was.

"It's a valid question," Astoria insisted. "Lainey has high standards—"

"And I don't reach them?" Malfoy challenged impatiently.

"Well, you're not her first," Harper mumbled, causing me to blanch with his reference. "Ooh, we need a comparison, Lay: Weasley to Malfoy. Go."

"What? I—I am not—No, I am not answering that. I am—leaving—"

"You can't leave!" Ashley declared as she scurried over to the table and slapped her clipboard onto it in the same fashion that Harper had slapped his hands. "I'm about to announce March's competition!"

"We're still doing that crap?" Malfoy griped, but I could tell his resentment was stemming from what Harper had mentioned.

"Don't act so ungrateful!" Ashley snapped. "The last competition was what made you and Lainey finally fall in love!"

"Very deeply in love," Harper crooned with an eyebrow wiggled aimed in my direction. I rolled my eyes as Anderson chuckled.

"Just get on with it," I grumbled to Ashley. "I need to leave this place as quickly as possible."

"Why are we discussing March's task already?" Harper asked as he picked up a croissant. "I still haven't given Melody her Valentine's Day kiss."

"Valentine's Day passed two weeks ago, you moron," Melody barked, causing Harper's bite of the croissant to drop from his mouth.

"It's...not Valentine's Day anymore?"

"It's March! Which is why I must explain March's competition to you all!" Ashley persisted, nearly smacking Crabbe with her clipboard. "We are going to have the competition next Saturday—"

"Can't," Noah Palmer interjected from further down the table. "Got an exam on Monday that I need to study for."

Though she was gritting her teeth, Ashley glanced down at her notes and said, "Fine, then we'll have it on Saturday the fourteenth—"

"Can't, got an essay due on the sixteenth—"

Ashley screeched, frazzling Crabbe to the point where he dropped all of the food in his hands.

"Then we will have it on Friday the twentieth!"

Noah was oblivious to her agitation and merely shrugged. "I wouldn't really care if I missed the competition anyway."

"The real question is, why do you still care about school?" I prompted. "Are you aware that the Dark Lord plans to destroy the entire world as we know it?"

"That doesn't mean I should fail my classes—"

"Stop talking about school!" Ashley commanded shrilly. "I need you all to agree that you'll be in the Slytherin common room on the evening of March twentieth."

"If I have nothing better to do," Malfoy agreed noncommittally.

"Good, that better go for all of you!" Ashley threatened as if Malfoy had actually obliged to her request. He met my gaze to exchange a brief, cunning smirk that mollified any awkwardness we'd shared over Harper's mention of Fred.

"I'll see you all there," Ashley continued, sweeping her eyes over the table with authority, "and Melody, make sure your sister is there. It might be blasphlegm, but—"

"Blasphemy," Anderson coughed.

"Fine, it might blasphlegm me, but even though she's a Gryffindor, she's a good ref, and, sadly, there are actual rules in this competition..."

∆

The outside world was beginning to thaw when the twentieth of March rolled around, but the dungeon corridor was as cold as ever as Malfoy and I trekked from the depths of the dungeon cells toward the Slytherin common room. We hadn't been bonking in the bowels of Hogwarts, surprisingly, but instead had been sent to feed a fourth year Gryffindor that the Carrows had chained up down there. Naturally I'd freed the kid, and he'd sprinted away from us without saying thank you, which Malfoy was rather sour about.

"If we're going to get punished for helping that little bastard, he at least could have shown some gratitude," were his exact words, and I didn't really disagree. Even after what they'd done to us, though, the Carrows didn't really scare me the way they should have. Maybe it was because we were leaving for the spring holiday tomorrow, and we would then be under Voldemort's dominion rather than Snape's, but the Carrows seemed meager in comparison to all we had endured and all we would endure.

"I'm debating what will be the least painful way of telling my parents that I'm dating a half-blood," Malfoy pondered as we strolled through the dank corridor. "Perhaps it'll be best if we let them think that you have me under the Imperius Curse."

"You're an incurable pureprick," I teased as I lightly kicked him in the calf. Apparently the blow was too hard, though, because he began limping after that. "Your mum will be happy to hear the truth. She knows you're in love with me. Shouldn't her greatest aspiration be to see her son's dreams come true?"

"I'd hardly say dating you was one of my life goals," he scoffed, but I could hear the playfulness buried in his tone. "And what do you mean she knows?"

I swallowed, knowing I'd said too much. "I just mean...she's your mother. She must be aware of how you feel. It was probably obvious to her—and everyone."

"Except you, because you're oblivious."

The light from his wand danced over his face as I glanced over at him with dry eyes. "You know me too well."

"So well that it's shocking that I've managed to put up with your nearly constant presence for the past month." He paused as the common room's entrance came into view ahead. Students were filing in, all eagerly whispering about what Ashley's couples' competition might be this month. "Have I been...doing all right?"

"At what, exactly?"

"You know..." he mumbled, his eyes flitting around uneasily. "At being your...boyfriend?"

"Well, considering I'm only dating you to improve my Arithmancy grade and I'm no longer failing, I'd say you're doing swell." He didn't share any of my amusement at that comment, so I cleared my throat and added, "You're doing great. You've been as much of an asshole as I expected you to be, and I haven't felt the urge to kill you in quite some time—"

"Fine, I get it, you're not in the mood to be serious—"

"I'm sorry—I... Fred and I were never really serious," I admitted quietly. "And I can't pretend that my past relationship didn't have an effect on me. I know this is different, though. And I think I prefer you because you know how to be serious. You don't try to evade our problems, and even if it leads to a fight, at least we talk about it. You are doing great. I don't expect you to be perfect. But...if you lose this competition for us tonight, I will dump you."

His eye roll was accompanied with a smirk as we started toward the common room's entrance again. "You're the incompetent one in this relationship, Mudblood—"

"Hey, I never even thought to have sex in the dungeons!" Anderson exclaimed animatedly when he saw Malfoy and I emerge from the darkness. "You two are geniuses. We gotta try it, Astoria—"

"I'm too high class for dungeon sex," she insisted as she flipped her sparkly hair over her shoulder. She'd abandoned her school uniform and was wearing a pink dress that's zipper wasn't completely closed.

"Right, because bathroom sex is much classier," I snorted as I reached around her back and zipped up the dress. She squeaked and then scowled at Anderson, who merely shrugged.

"Hey, Mud, did you talk to Mal about spring break yet?"

Malfoy shot me a quizzical glance as he slipped his wand into his pocket. "No."

"Aw, c'mon, Mud. I invited the Slytherin Six members and their significant others back to Astoria's place for the holiday. My place isn't posh enough for the queen," Anderson added as he nodded his head toward Astoria. She was too busy studying her pink fingernails to catch his sarcasm. "It's gonna be wicked though. Butterbeers and firewhisky for breakfast, and I hear they've got an indoor pool, and you two can have your own bedroom—"

"We're going back to the Manor," I interjected with an apologetic smile. "Sorry."

"Why would we go back to the Dark Lord when we can easily avoid him?" Malfoy questioned. "And the Greengrasses are purebloods, so it's acceptable."

"Snape said we had to. And...I thought you wanted to tell your parents about...us?" I reminded him as we passed through the threshold into the common room. Everyone was gathered at the center of the room around Ashley, whose blonde head was just barely visible beside Crabbe.

"Everyone listen up!" she commanded as we joined the rest of the crowd. I expected Malfoy to answer my question regardless of Ashley's orders, but his attention was fixed on her even more than Crabbe's. "This month's competition is a game, but it's not as fun as Quidditch. It's a game I invented, though, called Toss the Ferret!"

"What!" Harper instantly exclaimed as he barged through the crowd of Slytherins. "Vince and I invented Toss the Ferret!"

"You can't expect me to let random strangers throw Smellfoy around!" Anderson chimed in just as ferociously.

"None of us are strangers. We all live in the same dungeon, and we all have Slytherin's blood!" Ashley insisted, rousing a few snickers.

"No one here has Slytherin's blood!" Anderson fumed.

"Well, then, how did we get into Slytherin House, hm?"

Anderson groaned as he began to stomp over toward Smellfoy's golden cage. "We are not playing Toss the Ferret with Smellfoy. He could get hurt or—Hey...where is Smellfoy!"

People began to check under their feet for signs of the ferret after Anderson motioned to his empty cage, all while Ashley cackled to herself.

"Goyle!" she exclaimed, motioning to where he stood on the outskirts of the crowd. "Release the beast!"

Goyle's cheeks reddened as everyone spun to look at him. "I—uh—thought you wanted to toss him?"

"Yes, fine, then toss me the beast!"

I had to peer over a few people's heads to witness as Goyle held up the terrified white ferret and flung him across the room toward Ashley. Her athleticism allowed for an easy catch, but Anderson was still wailing the whole time.

"Crabbey and I will toss first," Ashley announced after consulting her clipboard. "Each couple will have a turn, and whichever couple has the most tosses wins!"

"What if Smellfoy gets dropped?" Harper questioned as he fought to restrain Anderson from lurching at Ashley.

"Then our expert referee will save him!"

A blue head of hair popped up amidst the cluster of Slytherins, and her green eyes were wide with alarm. "Me? I don't know how to save the ferret—"

"Of course you don't," Melody droned from where she lounged in one of the armchairs with a book in her lap.

"I—er—can teach you," Harper suggested as he dropped his grip on Anderson and approached Harmony, the lone lion in a pit of snakes.

She didn't acquiesce to his offer, though; her voice was impassive as she replied, "I'll figure it out" and then began commanding the Slytherins to make room for the ferret tossers. We spread to the perimeter of the room, all four teams clustered together to watch Ashley and Crabbe's spectacle. Anderson was grumbling near me to Astoria about the ethics of this competition, and I was so distracted as Ashley made her first, graceful throw that I didn't notice Malfoy lingering beside me.

"You don't want to spend the holiday with your friends because you'd like some alone time?" he murmured in my ear, causing me to jolt back into the wall.

"Do you even think we would get any alone time at the Manor?" I countered in an equally low voice. "I'd probably prefer not to go back, but I don't want to displease our temperamental Lord."

"You don't want to be rebellious?"

My head tilted back and forth as I ruminated. "Hm, you're right. Greengrasses' it is."

His smirk broadened as Harmony announced that this was Ashley and Crabbe's fifth throw. "You just like the prospect that we'll get our very own bedroom at the Greengrasses'."

"As if you don't practically live in my bedroom at the Manor—"

"Seven..." Harmony shouted, but as the word spewed from her mouth Smellfoy plummeted toward Crabbe, who fumbled and would have allowed the poor ferret to splatter on the floor if Harmony hadn't thrown up her wand to cast the life-saving spell. Trembling, Smellfoy gravitated across the common room, landing safely in the referee's arms. "Seven," she reiterated, lightly stroking his white fur.

"Seven!" Ashley shrilled, stomping her feet furiously. "That is pathetic! We are going to have a serious talk about this later, Crabbey."

"Who goes next?" Harmony asked, but Ashley was too busy ranting about their insufficient score to hear.

As Harmony glanced around at the mumbling Slytherins, Malfoy stepped forward and drawled, "I s'pose we'll get this rubbish out of the way so we can go create a half-breed baby back in my dormitory."

I glared at him from the corner of my eye as we approached the center of the room and then announced, "He's joking, everyone."

"Or is he?" Harper challenged with an eyebrow wave that made me roll my eyes as we positioned ourselves in the same spots that Ashley and Crabbe had occupied only moments ago. As if this were some sacred ritual, Harmony strolled up to me and placed the ferret gently in my hands. He was shaking much less than he had been in the last couple's clutches, probably because I'd participated in some rounds of Toss the Ferret with Harper and Anderson before.

"All right, ready?" Harmony prompted, her question directed mostly at Malfoy, who was gazing around the room disinterestedly. I almost thought about throwing Smellfoy at his head just to startle him, but then I remembered that this was a team effort with a goal that we were meant to work toward together. After the past seven months of being a "couple" and the past month of being an actual couple, it should have felt natural to be on Malfoy's side, and yet there was still that childish remnant within me that wanted to beat him in every competition and then gloat. He felt the same, I knew, because when his grey eyes settled on me, there was a provocative edge to them.

"I'm ready whenever this lazy Mudblood is—"

I felt rather guilty about how violently I chucked Smellfoy at Malfoy—not because of how the human grunted when pelted in the face, but because of how the little ferret squealed upon making contact with his human counterpart.

"Mud! Don't kill Smellfoy!" Anderson roared.

"I won't—" I began to insist, but as I did, Smellfoy collided with my chest and nearly collapsed to the ground before my hands caught him. "Malfoy—"

"Don't you mean 'my beloved'?" he prodded craftily.

"Smellfoy is my beloved now, sorry to break it to you," I retorted rather unapologetically as I launched the poor ferret through the air.

"Is he, now?" Malfoy questioned as Smellfoy landed awkwardly in his clutches. After examining the little rodent for a moment, I thought he would aggressively hurl him back at me, but, instead, he loosened his grip and watched remorselessly as Smellfoy plunged toward the stone ground. Caught off guard by Malfoy's callousness, Harmony didn't have enough time to react, and so Smellfoy slammed against the floor at full force, silencing the entire room of Slytherins.

We all waited with wide eyes and bated breath for the ferret to rouse and scurry toward his cage, but he was utterly still where he lay, his eyes peacefully closed and his chest unmoving.

"Who's your beloved now, Fitzroy?" Malfoy mused, inclining his head cruelly in Smellfoy's direction.

"You—"

"Yes—"

"You killed him," I blurted in bewilderment.

"I think murdered is the word you're looking for," Melody drawled unsympathetically from her armchair.

"It was about time that ferret met its end," was Malfoy's heartless comment.

"You—monster!" Anderson bellowed as he charged at Malfoy. I was unmotivated to stop him, but Harper darted out at the last second to restrict his friend from pummeling Malfoy—my boyfriend whose actions I now also felt responsible for. Fred hadn't been perfect, and some of his pranks had been insensitive, but this...this wasn't a prank. This was an act of injustice. How could I even attempt to support Malfoy in his crimes? Was I even supposed to support him in such wickedness? He was a Death Eater, yes, and we'd done worse than murder a ferret, but this wasn't just some random rodent. This was Anderson's pet—one of my best friends' pets. Normally I would have taken Anderson's side in an instant, but now...

"You ruined our game!" Ashley complained as she marched into the middle of the room.

"He ruined a life!" Anderson cried as actual tears began to surface in his eyes. He tried to wrench himself from Harper's grasp, but he was too worn by his emotions that he simply crumbled into his best friend's arms. "Smellfoy was my child!"

"He was a ferret," Malfoy scoffed as he nudged Smellfoy with the toe of his shoe. "I'm sure your mummy can get you a new one. But you can't bring it into this common room. I'm Head Boy, and I won't put up with this nonsense anymore. I just did this House a service—"

"What a hero," I spat as I stalked over to him. Apprehension sparked in his expression, but I didn't assault him in a violent manner; instead I knelt down and scooped up the little ferret in my hands. His body was still warm, but it was limp and growing cold.

With a shaky breath, I stepped over to Anderson, who was seething and wheezing through his tears. After Summoning a blanket from the couches and wrapping Smellfoy up in it, I carefully handed him off to Anderson, who was shuddering so tremendously that he could barely hold on to the bundle.

"I'm sorry," I barely whispered. The two stupid words wouldn't mean anything; they wouldn't bring his furry friend back. But they seemed to console him nonetheless, and so I added, "We'll have a funeral for him."

"Right now?" Anderson whimpered as he coddled the blanket in his arms.

"Right now. C'mon, if we're quiet, we can sneak out—"

"You can't sneak out!" Malfoy exploded in a panic. "It's freezing outside the castle—and the Carrows will see you—"

"Well, perhaps you should have thought about that before you murdered Smellfoy," I snapped with the same amount of coldness that he'd displayed toward the ferret's death. "Astoria, we'll need you to come and use your warming spell on us—"

"Of course," she agreed with a solemn nod as Anderson and Harper passed her. Ashley was at our heels with Crabbe in tow, and Malfoy, with his relentless Head Boy-ish-ness, was speed walking to catch up with me.

"To be honest, Lainey," Astoria whispered in my ear as we emerged in the dungeon corridor, "I'm relieved that the ferret is dead. I hate to see Vince so distraught but...the scent of ferret is not pleasant, you can imagine, and I've had a hard time concocting a potion that will rid Vince of the smell."

"Always so selfless, Astoria," I droned just as Malfoy caught up to me. His pale face was pinkish, and he was beyond flustered by this situation.

"We cannot have seven Slytherins sneaking out of the castle—"

"And one Gryffindor," Harmony added as she popped up beside Astoria. "I would like to say this is entirely Malfoy's fault, but I was the one who was supposed to catch Smellfoy—"

"If he was accidentally dropped," I injected with a pointed scowl at Malfoy, "which he was not. None of this is your fault, Harm—"

"It's Pucey's fault!" Anderson wailed with zero regard for who might hear him. "She subjected Smellfoy to this cruel game—"

"Be quiet!" Malfoy hissed as we began to ascend the stairs. "If we get caught, my Head Boy privileges will be revoked—"

"Yeah, well, that would be a treat for the rest of us," Harper barked back at him while continuing to haul Anderson up the staircase. When glancing over his shoulder, he nearly tripped on a step, but then, as if by magic, his leg rapidly raised, and he avoided calamity. He seemed slightly baffled by the incident, but I was far more flabbergasted, my eyes darting around the group to see who might have saved him from his fall. No one was wielding a wand, but Harmony's eyes were bulging as she stared ahead at Harper.

"Did you just...?"

"I-I dunno," she stammered quietly as we landed in the entrance hall. The torches were dimmed and the castle was eerily quiet as we trekked toward the exit. "I...saw that he was about to trip, and I thought that he should raise his foot a bit...and then he did."

I watched Harper, who was too busy keeping Anderson upright to hear our conversation. "Do you think you spoke into his mind?"

"I... I don't know—"

"Well," Malfoy drawled through a sigh, "I s'pose I could let you all speculate for the rest of this walk, or I could just tell you what happened—"

"You know?"

"You should know as well—"

"I don't, but—but I'm not talking to you right now," I added hastily. "I'm cross with you, so I don't want to hear whatever you have to say—"

"I want to hear it, even if he's a murdering git," Harmony piped up. "Tell me what I just did."

"You heard my father," Malfoy huffed to me without really meeting my eyes. "He said that Gaudiums can be controlled by those who they've Latched onto."

"Yes, I remember," I said, recalling the night that I'd threatened to kill Lucius over the winter holiday, "but Harper's not a Gaudium—"

"But she's an Anti-Gaudium." He scrunched his nose in Harmony's direction. "Everything seems to be opposite for her. So perhaps instead of being controlled by the one she's Latched onto, she can control him."

"Mentally?" Harmony whispered as if Harper would hear her. He and Anderson had already slipped out through the front doors to be consumed by the cold wind.

"Don't ask me, I'm not an expert," Malfoy scoffed, but judging by the way Harmony had compelled Harper to move his foot without speaking a word, it did appear that her powers could be conveyed by sheer mental will. We were all oddly mute after that; the only sound as we exited the castle was the howling wind and the muttering of Astoria as she cast the warming spell on each of us.

When I'd suggested a funeral for Smellfoy, I'd meant that we should bury him about five steps from stone path and then hurry back inside, but Anderson showed no sign of slowing as we descended down the hill toward the Forbidden Forest. Patches of snow littered the ground, creating a strange mosaic of white, green, and brown across the landscape of Hogwarts. The snow became denser as we neared the shadow of the forest, and I was grateful when Anderson finally halted his strides at the edge of the woods.

"This is ridiculous," Malfoy griped as Harper began to remove snow from the earth with the flick of his wand. "Why must we bury a ferret? Wouldn't it be better to burn him back in the common room fireplace?"

"We're already out here," I said as Harmony and I started displacing the snow with our own wands. "You might as well help, considering this is all your fault."

Malfoy was grumbling to himself as we finally cleared a patch and began to dig into muddy earth. I thought he might actually help us, but instead he said, "We're going to get expelled for this. All this is doing is proving how daft you all are. But the worst part about this is that your dumb ferret isn't even dead."

All motion ceased as every head pivoted in Malfoy's direction. His hair was white in the light of the moon, but his face was dark with the shadows of the trees.

"What are you talking about?" I finally demanded when no one else could find the words. "He isn't breathing—"

"That's because I gave him a Cadaverous Cookie," Malfoy admitted tartly. "I thought it would be a funny prank—"

"What is it with you and those cookies!" I erupted, throwing my arms up in a way that nearly sent my wand flinging into the darkness.

"Mind you, I saved your brother with those cookies last time, and this time it was meant to be funny, but you all took it too far—"

"You took it too far!" Harper exclaimed while Anderson dug through the blanket to find the "dead" ferret. "Pretending to kill a ferret? How is that a prank?"

My head was shaking continuously as I said, "It's a terrible prank."

"I bought them from Weaselbee, so you can blame him—"

"You could have at least told us before we came all the way out here," Astoria insisted with her arms crossed. "If I didn't have a magical salve to clean my shoes, they'd be ruined—"

"Why would you even play a prank at all?" Harper demanded hotly. "You hate pranks! You were just trying to impress Lay, weren't you?"

"No, I'm not pathetic—"

"But you are evil," Anderson reckoned, his voice much too calm compared to the dramatic sobs he'd just been emitting. "You fed a ferret a cookie, Mal. What kind of vile human being are you? Smellfoy is on a strict, healthy diet—"

"Really, Anderson, that's why you're pissed?" I questioned flatly. "Not because Malfoy pretended to murder your beloved ferret, but because he fed your ferret a cookie? That is the least pressing issue. We just snuck out of the castle to the Forbidden Forest to bury an animal that isn't even dead! Why wouldn't you say something earlier, hm, Malfoy? Like, before we even left the common room?"

"Because the prank hadn't elicited any real amusement from me yet, and I was hoping it would. All it's managed to do is irritate me, though. I can't imagine what kind of pleasure you and those Weasleys gain from these shenanigans—"

"Lainey just likes to feel a sense of cleverness, I reckon," a sly voice mused as a figure suddenly materialized from the darkness of the forest. Ashley yelped and Astoria stumbled back into Malfoy while Harmony immediately raised her wand toward our new guest. I recognized him even before seeing his pocked-face in the dim light of the night.

"Rookwood?" Malfoy and I both blurted in unison.

"I'd prefer that you call me Augustus, considering we are colleagues," the Death Eater said, smirking sinisterly at our friends. "What are you all doing out in the Forest so late at night? Are you sacrificing this Gryffindor?" He nodded toward Harmony's Gryffindor crest on her robe, but then when his eyes trailed toward her hair, they lit up with recognition. "Flemming, correct? The void Gaudium, the one that the Dark Lord seeks. How convenient that you would be out here all alone, where I can easily capture you—"

"If he wanted me so badly, he could have had the Carrows kidnap me months ago," Harmony insisted defiantly. "I'm useless to You-Know-Who without the Gaudium powers."

"Perhaps..." Rookwood muttered, eyeing her shrewdly. "I suppose we will have to wait until we learn who you've Latched onto. Is it one of these boys, perhaps?"

"What are you doing here, Rookwood?" I intoned before Harper could get squirmy enough to give himself away. "How did you know we'd be in the woods at this very moment? This was a spontaneous excursion—"

"I had no idea you'd be out here, actually. It's more of a pleasant coincidence. I Apparated here—"

"How?" Harper demanded. "The school's warded against Apparition—"

"Perhaps for common folk it is, but you'll find that I'm well esteemed with the current Headmaster." Rookwood flashed his teeth in a crooked grin and returned his gaze to me. "I Apparated here to retrieve Lainey, actually. I had plans to make an appearance in the Slytherin dungeons, visit my old common room, but then I heard you all shouting out here—very, very noisy. You're all lucky the centaurs haven't come to gobble you up—"

"Centaurs!" Ashley squawked. "I never want to meet a centaur. They're like humans but they can't ride brooms so they can't play Quidditch—"

"They also probably eat people, so there's that too," Anderson interjected sarcastically.

"Anyway," Rookwood cut in, "we'll leave the rest of you to scurry back to the castle before I alert the Carrows of your whereabouts. Lainey?"

I bit my lip as my head rotated toward Malfoy. His expression was so emotionless that it was impossible to read. "What about him?"

"You'll see him at the Manor tomorrow since he'll be home for the spring holiday," Rookwood assured me briskly. "Can you handle one night without your lover?"

"Yeah," I said as I turned away from Malfoy and took Rookwood's extended arm. "I definitely can."

∆

"I probably should have asked you where you were taking me before I let you whisk me away."

"You probably should have," Rookwood agreed patronizingly.

"Well, I suppose I should be relieved that you haven't brought me to my death," I said as my eyes roved the establishment that we now stood in. The Leaky Cauldron was rather empty for a Friday night; the lights were dim and there wasn't even a bartender at the bar. The only other soul in the entire pub was a haggard looking man with messy brown hair and a scar running along his face, and he was seated in one of the booths in the far corner of the room. I didn't have to look twice to recognize him, but he didn't even notice my presence until I was hovering beside him with a beam on my lips.

"Remus," I greeted, nudging his arm to get his attention. Slowly, his head pivoted in my direction, and his tired eyes sparked with the tiniest bit of light.

"Lainey. When Augustus invited me here, I feared he might plan to kill me." My uncle's eyes trailed behind me, to where Rookwood was looming.

"Likewise," I said with a wry glance back in the Death Eater's direction.

He smiled complacently at us before saying, "I reserved rooms upstairs for both of you. 309 and 310. I'll return you to the Manor tomorrow—"

"Why?" was my immediate interjection. "Why would you reunite us like this? What are you scheming, Rookwood?"

"No schemes," Rookwood insisted as he held his hands up in innocence. "Remus expressed a desire to speak with you when I last saw him, and so I am fulfilling that desire."

"I didn't realize you truly wanted to make that deal," Lupin stated dryly as he stood from the booth.

"What deal?" I demanded.

"I suggested, in passing, that if Augustus could arrange a meeting for us, I would arrange a meeting for him and Lisa." Lupin licked his lips before adding, "Your mother's room has been warded against Death Eaters, of course, so only I can permit him access to her."

"Seeing her at the wedding wasn't enough?" I challenged, raising my eyebrows at Rookwood.

"I didn't speak with her at the wedding, you are aware. I considered what you said to me at the wedding, though, and I would like to restore my relations with her. She seemed ready—"

"Ready to serve the Dark Lord, you mean?" I asked with a spiteful laugh. "Or ready to serve you?"

Rookwood's placid expression turned acidic, but he made no retort and simply said, "I will see you in the morning" before Disapparating from the restaurant entirely.

Sighing, I spun back toward Lupin. "Are we getting dinner? I already ate, but I'm up for round two. I've been eating more, you'll be happy to hear—"

"Dinner sounds nice, but I'd prefer a walk, if you would. I've been spending too much time in run-down pubs lately, I'm afraid." He smiled meekly, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"All right... Will you be spotted if we walk around Diagon Alley?"

"My face isn't on wanted posters. That's your brother's, sadly." A nod toward the wall alerted me of the wanted poster hung there, the poster with Harry's face plastered on the front. I'd seen this ad in the newspapers, almost every day, but it still infuriated me. "Besides, you're...well, you're a Death Eater. You can get away with more than you think."

"Doesn't feel like it at Hogwarts," I muttered as we crossed the pub toward Diagon Alley's entrance. "The Carrows are psychos, you can imagine. They don't give a damn if I have the Dark Lord's Mark."

"I don't doubt that," he agreed lowly as I tapped on the brick wall with my wand. As the bricks slid to the side, the Alley came into view, but two men cloaked in black were obscuring the entrance. Their teeth were as crooked as their grins when they saw us emerge.

"We'll need to see proof of your blood status before you're allowed into Diagon Alley," the first man said. Neither of them appeared to be Death Eaters, and I certainly didn't recognize them from any meetings, but it was clear they had no qualms with doing Voldemort's bidding.

"Only real wizards are permitted within," the second man jeered.

I made my eye roll evident as I yanked up the sleeve of my sweater to reveal the Mark beneath. The sight of it startled me as much as it always did, but I kept my disgust hidden from these two gaping goons.

"I-I—Enter, please," the first man said as he stumbled aside.

The second man was just as apprehensive, but there was wariness to his gaze as we passed. "What about this fella?"

"This fella is with me," I snapped before looping my arm with Lupin's and sauntering on. I could have threatened them further, but I didn't want my uncle to see the worst side of me, the girl pretending to be an evil Death Eater.

"Hopefully those two aren't reporting back to You-Know-Who..." Lupin mumbled as we strolled down the cobblestone.

"I doubt they do directly. And the Dark Lord has more important things to worry about than who I spend my weekends with. And I think you're forgetting that I'm accustomed to torture now, so—"

"Lainey—"

"I don't really want to talk about any of it, Remus, really. It's all gloomy. Let's talk about you, hm? How's Tonks?"

"Well...that's part of the reason I wanted to speak with you." Lupin cleared his throat as he gazed out at all of the abandoned shops. Only a few had survived, and I noted that even Madam Malkin's was closed. The dreary ambience was only intensifying Lupin's morose mood. "I didn't want to tell you earlier, in fear that You-Know-Who would discover, but I suppose the truth will come out soon enough... Tonks is pregnant, Lainey. She's due next month—"

"What!" I exclaimed, my voice echoing through the empty Alley as I tore my arm from Lupin's to stare at him. "That's wonderful! Oh, Remus, why are you so miserable?"

"I'm a werewolf, Lainey. I shouldn't be a father." Puffing out a breath, he ran a hand through his disheveled hair and then shook his head. "I'm irritable, I'm dangerous... Tomorrow night's a full moon, and I'll be a mess. I can't have that for my child. I should have never married Tonks—"

"Stop," I insisted as I grabbed both of his shoulders. "You are one of the most loving, caring people I know. You've been like a father to the Fitzroy brothers and I since Ray died. Babies are different than teenagers, yes, but this baby is going to love you so much. You won't disappoint it, I promise you. Just don't introduce it to cousin Lainey. I'm not exactly the best role model—"

"Actually," Lupin cut in as we began to pace down the alleyway again, "the reason I wanted to tell you was because—Tonks and I both agreed—that we'd like you to be the godmother."

My jaw dropped as I stumbled over a stone. "You—er—what? Did you pick my name out of a hat, or did you just think of the first female that popped into your brain—"

"No, no, Lainey," he said with a chuckle, "we want you to be the godmother. If I ever see Harry again, I'm going to ask him to be the godfather, but...with the way things are going now, it seems almost unlikely that anyone on our side will make it out alive. I hate You-Know-Who and what he's done to you, but if it keeps you alive, then perhaps you can keep our child alive. I just want you to promise that if anything happens to Tonks and me, you'll protect our child."

"I—well—um—you know I have to marry Draco Malfoy, don't you? Would you really want him...you know...?"

"To be like a father figure to my child?" Lupin finished with a half-smile. "I trust you, Lainey. I know that you would raise my child to be a Gryffindor. Or a Hufflepuff, like Tonks, perhaps."

"Ah, so you're saying you don't want me to corrupt your child into being in Slytherin?"

"I didn't say that, necessarily—"

"I get it, Remus. You just want to see your child be a good person. And, if the time comes, I will ensure it. But let's stop talking about your death, hm? I have no plans of allowing you to die any time soon."

"Of course not. I hope to live long enough to see you at least get married, even if it is to a Malfoy." He paused as his eyes wandered over toward the shop that bisected the alley ahead: Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. The lights were on inside, but unlike the other time's I'd been here, the shop looked almost deserted. There was no line out the door or funny posters hanging on the windows. But, there was a pair of redheads moving about within...

"We never did...discuss what happened between you and Fred," Lupin practically choked out. "What I walked in on at the wedding..."

My cheeks blazed with heat as my body seized with the awkwardness of it. "I...I thought you were purposely avoiding this discussion."

"Well...ah...as your father figure, I thought I ought to at least...advise the use of protection—"

"Okay, no, we are not having this discussion. Not now, not ever." Pausing, I met his eyes with a cringe and added, "But if it eases your conscience, we did. And that's the end of it."

"Right—good," he stammered as he clapped his hands together. "Well...the twins have been doing well, if you were wondering. They've been living in their shop to ensure that none of the Death Eaters try to break in."

"Hm, well, wouldn't it be ironic if a Death Eater were to break in?" I wiggled my eyebrows at my uncle, hoping I could evoke his inner mischievousness.

"I will accompany you, but only to watch," he informed me before gesturing toward the prank shop. It was easily the most colorful venue in all of Diagon Alley, but I could see the decay in the depleting amount of merchandise on the shelves and the lingering advertisements for products that I knew were old. Standing at the front door, I was devising a way to make a grand entrance when the threshold suddenly cleared, allowing for two tall twins to peer out at me.

"Well, if it isn't Fitz," Fred drawled with his dashing smile. The outfits he and George were wearing today were rather drab compared to the usually brightly colored suits they liked to sport, but their expressions were vivid enough to elicit positivity.

"Come to claim your job at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?" George inquired as they both leaned on either side of the doorway.

"I was going to break in, actually, as a prank," I admitted sheepishly. "How'd you know I was here?"

"Saw you coming down the road," Fred explained as he nodded toward one of the many windows that lined the walls.

"You two are the only people brave enough to wander around the Alley these days."

"The only people brave enough and willing to come into our shop," Fred added somberly. "We haven't had too many customers thanks to good old V-man."

"I believe Lyle once dubbed him 'Voldemoron'," Lupin chimed in. "You don't reckon that's Tabooed?"

"Well, the other Death Eaters haven't descended upon us, so I reckon not," Fred answered with a wink in my direction. "Come on in—unless this is a trap?"

"A trap?" I repeated, nonplussed.

"Oh rubbish, Fred, Lainey wouldn't trick us like that," George insisted as he ushered the two of us into the shop. "Fred and I have been getting a little nervous, considering our family has been classified as 'blood traitors'."

"Haven't you always been in their eyes?"

"Well, yes, but now it's official," Fred explained as he led us over to a corner of the shop that was like a cozy little lounge with tattered orange couches. "All of these have Magically Reinflating Whoopee Cushions in them, just a warning."

Indeed, when we all plopped down on the couches, my uncle and I on one and the twins on another, there was a chorus of disturbing noises that had the twins giggling and Lupin suppressing a smirk.

"Delightful," I commented dryly before marveling at the prank products displayed on the walls around us. "Are you planning to downsize?"

The twins exchanged a look, something I'd never really seen them do before. Usually they both knew what was on the other's mind without even a glance, but now they were unsure whether to give me the news.

"We're planning to vacate, actually," Fred answered diplomatically. "And close down shop until further notice."

"You're...going out of business? Are you broke?"

"No, but we will be soon, considering no one's got the nerve to come to Diagon Alley anymore," George responded.

"We'll sell stuff on the go, like we used to at Hogwarts," Fred said breezily.

"On the go? Where do you plan to go?"

George's expression was eerily grim as he rested his elbows on his knees. "Not sure, but we know we'll probably have to go into hiding soon."

"Once all the Muggle-borns have been rounded up, 'blood traitors' will be next," Lupin put in, sounding equally as weary. "At what point he'll start offing half-bloods, I don't know..."

"You'll be free to roam, though, I imagine, unless You-Know-Who gets bored with seeing the future." Though Fred's tone was light, I could sense a bitter undercurrent to it as his brown eyes bored into me. "Which is why we've decided that if we can never come back to this place, we'd like you to reopen it."

I blinked and then shook my head as if I'd tasted something sour. "What? No, I—You two'll be able to come back...eventually."

"Well, if not, you're in charge," George retorted bluntly. "We're going to tell you and only you how to get in once we've locked the place up."

"Remus can know too, as a fellow prankster," Fred added, though Lupin didn't look too pleased to be linked in this group. "What you have to do is tap on the front door with your wand and say the magic words."

My eyebrows arched skeptically. "Magic words?"

"To get in," they chorused.

"All right...well, what are they?"

Fred's grin stretched wide as he recited, "'Fitz is ickle'."

"Ha-ha, Weasley, you're hilarious," I droned, clapping my hands slowly.

"There are also some traps to deter intruders," George said, "but we have faith that you'll survive them."

"That's so reassuring—"

"Oh, this conversation reminds me that I have a gift for you," Fred said abruptly as he reached into pocket. The movement made his cushion shift, eliciting an unpleasant sound, but he ignored it as he pulled a quill from his pocket.

"You can stop with the gifts, Fred. I think I have enough magical quills—"

"Ah, but this one you can use to communicate with George and me. It's an upgrade from the blackboard. Write on your arm with the quill, and the words will appear on my arm. Only for emergency use, though."

"You don't want to talk to me all the time?" I challenged in a way that earned a disapproving look from George. "What? That was not too flirty of a thing to say, was it?"

"It was a little," my uncle admitted uneasily.

"I'm...sorry. Thank you for the gift," I added, refusing to meet his eyes as I reached over to retrieve the quill. "Emergencies only, I promise. I'm not...trying to lead you on. I—er...I'm officially dating Malfoy now, actually..."

"Really?" Fred mused as if he weren't my ex-boyfriend. "This is an interesting piece of gossip."

"Indeed," George agreed. "I'm surprised Ginny hasn't mentioned it. Reckon she will over the holiday when she's home."

"How long has this been going on?" Fred asked so casually that I was beginning to think perhaps he was feeling casual about this.

"Well, um, we got together in February, on the fo—oh...on Valentine's Day."

"Ooh, so romantic," George sang, but Fred was laughing so loud that I could barely hear his twin.

"Valentine's Day? Well, Fitz, of all people, I didn't expect you to find love on Valentine's Day. It is love, isn't it? Or is this simply because of the Vow?"

I was so taken aback by the forwardness of his question that I could only splutter, "Is that what you want to hear?"

"No, I want to hear that you're happy and that this is what you want and that this is what you would want even if the Vow hadn't been made."

I didn't have to ponder long; the fact that I preferred Malfoy over Fred was not something that was still a debate in my mind. Even sitting here now, I didn't have any doubts about my decision to start dating Malfoy. He was moody and arrogant and rude and, I couldn't possibly forget, an atrocious prankster, but most of the time I wasn't much better, and Fred definitely deserved someone who was. Even if the Vow hadn't been made, this was how it would have gone, and I didn't Know that with my supernatural powers but with my heart.

"It is what I want," I confirmed with a genuine smile. "And this," I added, waving the quill and motioned around to our circle of reunited friends, "this is what I want too."

∆

Remus and I spent hours laughing and chatting with the twins, and by the time we retired to our separate rooms, I was exhausted. Upon waking up in the morning, I found that my uncle had departed from the Leaky Cauldron, and I sincerely hoped that he would return to Tonks.

Since Lupin was gone, I ate breakfast alone down at the pub, where I was greeted by the ugly sight of Augustus Rookwood. He didn't demand that we return to the Manor immediately, though, and so we spent the rest of the day roaming around Diagon Alley. We made a few stops in Knockturn Alley as well, where, unsurprisingly, Rookwood seemed to know everyone. After getting dinner at one of Knockturn's dingy pubs filled with werewolves, we were going to get ice cream at Florean Fortescue's, but found that it was closed. Rookwood made a comment that sounded like, "Forgot we killed that bloke", but I didn't want him to elaborate so I didn't ask.

It wasn't really that I enjoyed spending time with Rookwood, or even that I was trying to avoid Malfoy, but something about our day out had been oddly enjoyable. Maybe it was the fact that I wasn't trapped somewhere—either Hogwarts or the Manor—and that I was passing the time with someone whose opinion of me didn't matter. He didn't ask nosy questions like most others would, he wasn't expecting anything from me, and he wasn't trying to ruin my life so...for the briefest period, I had no qualms with Rookwood. I even mentioned, after we Apparated to the front gates of the Manor, that it might be good for Lisa if he rekindled his relationship with her.

"You want me to be your new father, do you?" he joked rather haughtily as we stepped through the opening gates. With the sun long gone, the air was brisk, but somehow it didn't affect me, and I could only assume that some remnants of Astoria's warming spell hadn't yet worn off.

"I don't expect you to marry her," I said as I kicked a few loose pebbles into the bushes. "I don't think she is or will ever be mentally stable enough for a relationship of that sort. But by spending time with her, perhaps you'll magically make her sane enough to get out of that care facility and into a home of her own."

"You trust me enough for such a task?"

"I don't trust you at all. But you seem to be the only option, unfortunately. If the whole world is going to burn, it'd be nice if, at least, the woman who raised me could find some peace."

"Hm, perhaps I can find a way to coax her into joining our side," Rookwood said, stroking his chin pensively. "She might be at the prime mental capacity for such a persuasion. You two would make the perfect mother-daughter duo—"

"My God," I groaned, pulling at my hair as we ascended the steps toward the grand front door. "You always know exactly what to say to make me hate you, don't you?"

Without knocking, he turned the handle and pushed the heavy door inward. "Some might call it a gift."

I was about to make a sassy retort, but when we stepped into the foyer, there was a sudden explosion that sounded like the shattering of glass. Screams of terror echoed through the Manor, but Rookwood only glanced toward the drawing room with disinterest.

"That dumb house elf probably dropped something."

"Like what, exactly? A fifty kilogram vase that crushed everyone?"

"It wasn't that loud—"

But he paused when the shouting continued, as if there was an intense squabble going on. It took a moment for me to catch onto what was being said, but when I heard, "Dobby has no master!" my body immediately spiraled into panic. I sprinted toward the drawing room before Rookwood could stop me, and when I yanked open the door, I found chaos within.

Crystal shards were scattered throughout the entire room, embedded in the walls, in the leather chairs, in people's skin. Draco was huddled against the wall with his mother, his face dripping with his own blood, but he wasn't the one that's presence shocked me to the point of immobility: beside the wreckage of the crystal chandelier, arms linked with a goblin and a house elf, stood Harry Potter. His face was swollen and bloody, but he was unmistakably my brother.

My appearance disorientated him for a moment, but before I could blurt even one word, he, Dobby, and the goblin had Disapparated—but not before Bellatrix, her face smeared with blood and her hair as wild as ever, launched a silver dagger at the three of them. It warped out of the room as they did, disappearing into nothingness.

"What...the hell?" I demanded as my protuberant eyes raked the scene. Fenrir Greyback was unconscious near the fireplace, while Lucius Malfoy was struggling to stand near the table. Bellatrix was panting like she'd just gone out for a jog, while Narcissa was hugging Draco's head against hers and cooing soothingly into his ear. Rookwood staggered up beside me, appearing as breathless and flabbergasted as he did whenever being scolded by the Dark Lord.

"Did you just kill Harry?" I asked Bellatrix, who was too consumed by her own fury to even hear me. I couldn't shake the image of the dagger headed straight for Harry from my mind, but instead I chose to focus on the massacre before me, on Draco, who was injured and could receive my help.

"What happen?" I asked quietly as I approached him and his mother. At the sight of me, she abandoned her son and hurried over to aid her husband into a chair. Draco was left trembling before me, his grey eyes bulging and wet as his face oozed blood.

"S-Some snatchers caught Potter," he sniveled, wiping his nose. "His face was all messed up, they couldn't tell if it was him..."

"But you knew?"

"Of course I knew. He was with Weasley and Granger, who else could he have been? He was also dumb enough to get caught by that stupid Taboo on the Dark Lord's name—"

"You...you didn't tell the others that it was Harry, did you?"

"I had to—it was too obvious—"

"You gave Harry away to the other Death Eaters? How could you? How could you sell him out like that?"

"I couldn't lie! You know what they would have done to me!" he exclaimed loud enough that Rookwood heard and strolled over to us.

Any bewilderment at the skirmish had vanished from Rookwood's expression, and he was all arrogance as he said, "Lover's quarrel, hm? This relationship doesn't seem to be going well. Fighting in the forest, fighting in the Manor... Perhaps your mother should consider arranging your marriage with a different half-blood, Draco—"

Rookwood was halfway across the room before another word could spew from his lips. My teeth were gritted and my wand was tight in my hand as I kept it aimed at him, ready to use another offensive spell if necessary. He was sprawled on the floor, though, and having a difficult time righting himself as Narcissa marched over to him.

"Augustus—"

"Oh, Draco doesn't know about the marriage arrangement?" Rookwood said as if he were surprised. With that crafty grin, he pushed off the floor and stood straight, towering over Narcissa as she glowered at him.

"What...marriage arrangement?" Draco asked slowly, using his hand to clear blood from his cheek.

My wand was shaking in my hand as I pointed it at him, but I knew that even if Rookwood didn't say it, the truth would come out. It would have to, now.

"If you two are going to have a row anyway," Rookwood began, "why don't we add this to the list of problems—this secret she's been keeping from you? The secret of the Unbreakable Vow she made with the Dark Lord. Yes, Draco, now you're beginning to understand. Lainey doesn't really want to be with you; she has to be with you, because the Dark Lord commanded her to. Because if she isn't, she'll die."

The events in this chapter correlate with The Deathly Hallows Chapter Twenty-Three, "Malfoy Manor".