Chapter 10: Moon and Stars

Another week and a half passed, and still not a word from Draco. Katerina had driven herself nearly mad wondering what was going on. She'd written him again two days after the attack in London to see if he was okay, just in case he was anywhere near it when it happened. No response. She'd spoken with Blaise several times since that day, but from Draco she'd heard nothing. One night, out of pure frustration she took the chain off from her neck and put it in the bottom of her underwear drawer, slamming the drawer shut in its wake. She'd started several letters with the intention of giving him a piece of her mind, but they all turned into obviously worried love letters and she chastised herself again and again for it. Let him come to you, she told herself on more than one occasion. But each time she'd sit down on her bed, staring at the drawer the ring was in, then start to write, then chastise herself again.

She went down to breakfast one morning and found her father starting at a copy of a newspaper, concern etched into the deep ridges of his face as his eyes scanned the text. She stopped just next to him, picking up a mug of coffee but watching his eyes move across the page. For a split second he looked over at her before looking back down at his paper. She moved behind him to see what had him so worried and nearly dropped the mug on the floor when she saw the headline.

Ministry Employee Lucius Malfoy Arrested in Connection With Death Eater Activity

Her stomach dropped, a dead weight settling inside, and she suddenly felt very cold. With shaky hands she set the untouched mug back on the table and ran upstairs to her room. Is that why I haven't heard from him? she wondered. It has to be some sort of mistake. She couldn't recall actually meeting Mr. Malfoy at any point as he hadn't been at the birthday party, but she couldn't imagine Draco's family could be connected with such extremist activity. You don't even know him, her mind screamed at her. He could be one of them, too.

Katerina paced around her room, trying to decide what to do. Before she gave herself time to reconsider she penned a short letter to Draco and sent it off with one of the messenger owls. She wasn't sure she wanted a response, but she was sure she couldn't sit back and not say anything at all.

"Shit, shit, SHIT!" Draco exclaimed, throwing the letter away from him and flopping back on his bed, hands over his eyes. He groaned in frustration, unable to stop the words from forming behind his eyelids.

Dear Draco,

I heard. Please talk to me. I need to know you're alright.

- Kate

He withdrew his wand and Accio-ed the letter to him, letting it hover above his face while he read it again and again, trying to decide what to do. He hadn't sent her anything in weeks, not since the roses. Yes, she'd sent him a thank-you, and even had the caring heart to check on him after the attack in London. Which my father had been apart of, he thought angrily. However, knowing what he did now about the Dark Lord's plans, and knowing what was expected of him now that he had been given his mission, he knew for a fact he couldn't involve her, or be involved with her. But that didn't stop him from wanting to talk to her. To reassure her that he was safe, even if that safety was fragile.

He snatched the letter from the air, walked over to his desk and wrote his own response. He couldn't stand to have anyone fussing over him, and he certainly wasn't going to let this girl he barely knew stress over something he'd chosen before he knew what she was supposed to be to him.

Dear Kate,

Just like every letter he had started before and never finished. Might as well get it over with, he supposed.

If you're free tomorrow evening, I'll meet you at the Jubilee Oak at 8pm.

Everything he'd been forced to hide from even his closest friends had made him a man of few words. He signed it with the same crescent moon and star he'd signed the last two cards with. He thought back to the party and the first time he caught a glimpse of the birthday girl's backside before he'd even seen her face up close. The moons across her back drew his eye immediately, and he'd gone to bed that night with the moon dancing behind his eyelids, the soft buzzing of his magic and hers sounding in his ears. The star had been added as an afterthought the first time, only meant to represent one piece of the constellation his name came from. Moon and stars, shining together in the darkness. He grimaced at his own soppiness and shoved the letter in the envelope before he had a chance to think twice.

When he got to the pub the next night he took a seat in the farthest, darkest corner he could find. While the Jubilee Oak wasn't exactly known for its magical clientele, the last thing he needed was to draw attention to himself. At 8 PM sharp the bell above the door rang and a petite brunette walked in, evergreen eyes scanning the pub for him. She found him almost immediately, and walked over with as blank an expression as she could apparently muster. As she approached, he noticed the way her legs looked in the tight black trousers she had on, the way her hips swayed with each step she took. Her dark green blouse made her eyes look like emeralds, and the way her brown and auburn hair looked, tied back in a long plait dropping over one shoulder, he felt the sudden urge to reach out and push an errant strand behind her ear. But he hadn't touched her at all yet, not even a handshake, and he suddenly wondered why that was. He stood just as she approached, waving a hand at the seat across from him and waited until she sat down before he resumed his own seat. He could smell her perfume from where he sat, and he wondered just how much time she spent getting ready for this.

"Glad to know you're still alive," Kate said, a hint of annoyance mixed with genuineness in her voice. He suppressed an eyeroll and nodded.

"Yes, well, your letters were rather badly timed."

"Well, excuse me."

Her eyebrows furrowed together creating a rather unflattering line between them, and he bit back his next remark, opting instead for, "Would you like a drink?" She nodded.

"Red wine, please." She handed him her ID to take with him and he sauntered over to the bar, trying to act older than he was. He glanced at her ID, noting the age. He smirked to himself. Clever girl. He'd managed a fake ID himself, and was slightly impressed that she had one as well. He'd have to ask her about that at some point. The barkeep looked skeptically at them, but apparently decided to let it slide since there wasn't really anyone else there anyway, and poured their drinks.

When Draco rejoined Kate at the table he set her glass in front of her and raised his in a small toast. She raised a questioning, perfectly shaped eyebrow at him and raised her as well.

"To… a better future," he said, tapping his glass of whiskey to her wine glass.

"Right. A better future," she replied, her eyes never leaving his as they drank. He sat back in his chair, his drink in one hand, his other arm resting casually on the table. She leaned forward, both hands on her glass, elbows holding her up on the table top. He took a look at her slender fingers, the way they curved around the glass, but stopped when he noticed something. Or rather, the lack of something. She must have seen him staring because she cleared her throat, drawing his attention back to her emerald eyes.

"It didn't seem right to wear it when we've only met once." He huffed, slightly frustrated, but said nothing. She seemed to wait for him to say something, but when he didn't she sighed and spoke herself. "Is it always going to be this awkward?"

"Maybe." She lowered her eyelids and seemed to glare at him.

"I'm not going to lecture you about how often we should talk or anything. I honestly just wanted to know what happened. Why you haven't bothered to say a word to me in weeks." He took another drink, thinking about how much he should tell her right now.

"Well, as you know already, my father was arrested." Kate nodded. "And I didn't want to come venting to you about it because, like you just said, we've only met once."

"Sounds fair," was all she said. Gods, she was as bad as him with being a person of few words.

"Plus, I doubt very much that 'Hey, heard we're soulmates. My father as just arrested for being a Death Eater. Want to grab some coffee some time and plan our lives out?' was a great pick-up line." She bit her bottom lip, seemingly to keep from laughing, and lifted her glass to her lips instead. He caught himself staring at her lips a little too intently even for his own comfort and cleared his throat as quietly as possible, averting his gaze back to her eyes. Both parts stirred something inside him but he tried to push it out of his mind.

"You're probably right. But it would have been a helluva lot better than being ignored for weeks without a heads up." He shrugged, not really knowing how to respond, and drummed his fingers on the table to fill the awkward silence.

Suddenly she reached out and stopped his hand with hers. He felt a zap of energy pass from her fingertips to the back of his hand, and pulled his arm back quicker than he meant to. In fact, he hadn't meant to at all, but the buzzing of their magicks in his ears grew louder, and he wasn't sure what had just happened. He met her eyes and found them staring deep into his, a much darker green than he'd seen moments earlier, her pupils dilated so large he wasn't sure if that green was actually just black. The line between her brows deepend, the worry plain on her face. He swallowed hard, and very slowly put his hand back on the table, face up, an invitation. She glanced from his face to his hand and back before just as slowly reaching out to take it. The magic passed between them again, but this time he tightening his grip on her hand slightly, letting the waves flow through him uninhibited. It ebbed and returned over and over, but he refused to let go this time.

"Draco," she said, barely above a whisper. He thought again about how he'd never actually touched her until just then, both glad for it and mad at himself for not doing it sooner. He wouldn't have had to bother with that stupid Midsummer spell at all; he'd have known right away. Immediately he wanted to apologize for ignoring her, for how he'd acted at her party, for not seeing her sooner.

But his pride wouldn't let him. So he stayed quiet, staring at their linked hands, hoping she'd be the first one to talk.

"We both have our secrets." Her words drew his eyes back to hers. "Secrets I can handle. Just no lies."

He searched her face, her cheeks pink either from the wine or the heat passing between them he wasn't sure, and found no judgment. So he nodded and squeezed her hand tight.

"No lies, then," he replied. She gave him a sad half-smile and he felt his heart wrench in his chest. Why the hell does she already have such a hold on me? he thought. "I'd ask if you'd like to take a walk, but it's probably not safe given the… circumstances." She didn't miss the pause in his voice, but apparently was choosing not to comment on it.

"Probably not. But at least we can talk in here. Try to get to know each other a little better," she offered, trying to reach a middle ground.

"Fair enough." He paused, trying to decide where to start. "So, a fake ID huh?" He kept his voice low to the barkeep wouldn't overhear them. It's one thing for him to have an idea, it's another entirely for him to be sure.

"Who says it's fake?" she asked, her eyebrow raised again, voice equally low.

"Well, considering you're younger than me by several weeks, I suppose it was a guess," he remarked, raising his glass to his lips. She sniggered at that, taking a sip of her own drink. "Plus, I was at your birthday party."

"Yes, well, very observant."

"Why only eighteen, though? Isn't the drinking age in America twenty-one?"

"It is, but it's not for alcohol purchases. I wanted a tattoo, so I only needed to be eighteen."

"Is that what's on your back? I thought it was just a very odd looking bruise," he remarked. "Where'd you go for that? We don't have any magical tattoo artists in Britain that I know of."

"I went to a No-Maj shop in Boston, just outside of where I live," she said, taking another drink, her eye studying him. He bristled at the comment, but tried to hide it as best he could. She associates with muggles? On purpose? You-Know-Who would kill her for sure. So would my father for that matter. Why don't I, though?

"Ah well… it… suits you," was all he could manage.

"Thank you, I guess." Oh great, awkward again, he thought. Think of something, quick! "So," he tried again, her glass reaching her ruby-stained lips as he spoke. He wasn't a particular fan of wine, but seeing it on her lips made him think he probably could be. "Did your mother tell you any stories about her experience at Hogwarts?" It was well known her mother was a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, earning this young witch's family half her precious pureblood standing, and he was curious just how much she was aware of her place in this world.

"Oh, yeah, it's her favorite thing to talk about," she started, clearly thankful for a change of subject.

They chatted more easily after that, testing the waters with small jokes and subtle flirting. He tried again with his compliment of her tattoo, opting that time for "I couldn't take my eyes off it at the party, or you." Her face had been blushing to begin with from the alcohol, but he watched it deepen at his comment and gave himself a mental pat on the back.

Before either of them realized what happened it was 10PM, their glasses having been refilled and emptied twice each in the meantime. They were both laughing openly about a comment Draco had made about the state of Theo's hair at her party when she suddenly stopped laughing, looking down at her lap. It wasn't until she reached awkwardly with her right hand toward her left hip that he realized he hadn't let go of her hand the entire time.

"I think I'd better go. I'm sorry," she said, biting her lip as she looked back up at him. He could feel his face fall, but tried to let it fall into a look of disinterest.

"I suppose so should I," he replied, still not letting go of her hand. She noticed, glancing from his eyes to their interlocked fingers and back. He stood, lifting her up from her own seat with him, and they walked from the dark pub hand-in-hand.

"Thank you," she whispered, once they were outside. He raised a inquisitorial eyebrow at her. "For seeing me tonight. It was… a lovely time." Even in the darkness outside the pub he saw her face redden slightly. He smirked, more a smile than a sneer, and stepped back to bow slightly, raising her hand to his lips. Her breath hitched noticeably when his skin connected with hers. He watched her pupils dilate again, the green sparkling with flecks of gold.

"Draco," she breathed, taking his breath with her. "There's something you should know."