Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, places, or ideas relating to or pertaining to the world of Harry Potter and JK Rowling. I graciously thank JK for her life-changing works and our ability as faithful readers to use her creations as our own for pure fanfic pleasure.

For your full listening experience, look up "Fix You" by Coldplay and let it play while you read. The song is beautiful and is my chosen melody for this chapter. The song is also on my playlist for this story which is linked on my profile and my Facebook page.

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Chapter Eleven – I Will Try to Fix You

Sweltering, hot tears ran down her heated cheeks as Isla turned onto her side and curled into the fetal position as silent sobs racked her naked body. Passionately aggressive sex was one thing but Draco's complete rejection afterwards tore at the very fabric of her heart and soul.

How fair was it that he could not remember her but he could still fuck her as if a day had not passed since their last hasty coupling at his cottage?

How could Draco touch her so expertly and claim to have no knowledge of their romantic past?

She lay curled up on the bed, time seeming to slow as her blue eyes remained unfocused on the stone wall. One leg cramped up and she turned over to fall onto her back and the pile of mixed fluids wet her calve. Isla jumped up at the contact and another wave of distraught tears cascaded past her dark eyelashes, her feet scrambling across the bed as she stood shivering, staring at the bed as if she wished it would suddenly burn aflame. Slight juices ran down the insides of her thighs and Isla grimaced, her knees bending as she waddled to the pile of discarded clothing to search for one of Draco's clean shirts. She grabbed a semi folded navy shirt and bunched the material to wipe it across her soiled thighs, throwing the blouse atop the pile as if nothing were amiss. Her gaze caught on markings around her curvy hips and tears gathered but did not fall as Isla realized the red swellings would become bruises in testament of Draco's force.

Her fingers reached for a white nightgown, the same one she had worn the first night she had landed at the theater, and shoved her arms through the openings as the scratchy garment fell over her blonde head. Determined not to shed another tear for the bastard of a man who had just walked out of the bedroom, taking her heart with him, Isla found her wand and gripped it reassuringly as she muttered a Scourgify charm at the dirtied sheets before flicking her wrist to watch the bedding fold and make itself presentable once more.

Isla dropped to the edge of the bed, her hands coming up to hold her face as she shook her head slowly at the stupidity of her actions in general. It was her fault they were in this mess and by some standards, Draco had every right to leave her hanging. But nothing excused his rough treatment.

Although Isla grinned randomly at the pain in her right hand, remembering the look of shock on his face when she had punched him.

A brief knock on the door jerked her curly head up and she looked hesitantly to the wooden frame as if it would open to reveal her worst nightmare.

"Isla, love. It's me... William. Can I come in?"

She sniffled loudly, her blue eyes wide as she nodded mutely until realizing that he could not see her.

"Yes," she hoarsely responded.

His dark and curly head was bent when the door opened but William looked up anxiously as his gaze halted at the enlarged bed before moving up to meet Isla's tear filled stare.

"I saw Drake leave ..." He began, his hand not clutching the door handle gesturing behind him to explain why he was there now. "He looked ticked. Did something happen?"

His words were innocent enough but Isla heard the eager lilt to his voice and Draco's earlier proclamation rang loudly in her head.

"I'm sure William I-can't-keep-my-eyes-off-your-breasts Shakespeare is really interested in our romantic history."

The thought forced a tight smile to her lips and Isla shook her head loosely, her horrible tendency to lie effortlessly parting her lips easily.

"No, everything is fine," she reassured him. "He's just nervous about the play and getting his lines right."

"Then what are those?" William asked, a finger pointing at her exposed neckline as his chocolate eyes stared below her jaw.

A hand reached up and Isla tucked her chin against her neck as she looked closely at her own skin. It was obvious now that he was referring to the numerous hickies Draco had left on her body and she hurriedly clutched the lapels of her nightgown to pull the pieces of fabric over her chest.

"Did he do something to you?" William again questioned, his hand falling free of the metal door knob as he walked the short distance to kneel in front of Isla, his knees parting to drop to the floor at her feet. "Did he hurt you?"

She bitterly laughed and held back the band of tears that threatened to give away her proud demeanor.

"Draco has hurt me more than you could imagine." William tensed at her words, his wrinkled and bearded face opening in hasty anger before she added, "It's all in here," pointing to her heart.

He sighed heavily and took both her smaller hands in his own, his hips pushing forward as he properly kneeled.

"I would never mistreat you as your beloved does now," he solemnly promised. "You are a rose without thorns and I would spend the rest of my days writing verses about your beauty and charm if you would let me."

"What of your wife?" Isla blurted, the words drawing a shaken response from William as his mouth gaped with no noise emitting, silent for once. "Are you not married?"

Black curls fell across his forehead, his neck bending to allow his head to fall in shame.

"Anne is her own woman. We have not spoken in many months now," William admitted softly. "But she does not hold a flame to you, Isla," he earnestly added, his gaze now intent on her dubious face.

Before she could react or move her surprised jaw and realizing a second after his grip on her hands tightened what he was planning, he rushed forward to press his lips against her mouth. The kiss was more of a face rape as William rapidly tilted his head from side to side and pushed his tongue inside the confines of her mouth to wiggle it over the ridges of her teeth.

"William! What are you doing!" Isla screamed when she finally shoved his leaning body away. "Just because you think I had a fight with my lover does not mean you can come in here and attack me!"

Dark eyebrows met in a harsh line below perfect lines of wrinkles, an angry frown turning down the corners of his lips as William abruptly stood, throwing her hands from his grasp as he glared at Isla.

"Do not fool yourself into believing that you are something special, love. You are just another man's concubine," he spat before glancing her up and down pathetically and moving as fast as he could in the small space to reach the door and slam it shut behind him as he dramatically exited.

She had thought her head was spinning before but now Isla blinked slowly over her dry eyes to stop the dizzy rushing of her head, her eyebrows raised incredulously as unrestrained tears appeared once more and her big, blue eyes quivered before her lips peeled apart to let a low groan of anguish escape. Everything seemed so bleak. Nothing was going right. But of course there was no one to blame but herself. Draco's mind was fairly empty of memories and past feelings and yet she still expected him to shag her senseless whenever they were alone. She did not want to see the side of his personality that disregarded women's emotions for his own pleasure, rumors and tales from their Hogwarts' years spiraling in the vortex of her jumbled thoughts reminding Isla that he had once given himself away freely.

Ignoring the loud protests of her empty stomach, she turned to crawl back up the bed to pull the newly made sheets from their neat tuckings and slide under the covers. Tears now falling freely as her mind replayed the recent saddening events, Isla held the blankets up against her chin as her curvy figure adjusted to the large mattress and her curly head snuggled into a lumpy pillow. Her blue eyes stared blankly, happier memories floating through her thoughts as her eyelids grew heavier and heavier until they closed gently with a soft sigh, dreams capturing her consciousness that drew more from reality than she wished to admit.

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Draco lay on his side, silky black sheet draping over his naked waist as he held his blonde head in his hand and watched Isla sleep. She was lying on her stomach facing him and the even puffs of her breath were repeatedly blowing an errant curl away from her nose. Her naked back dipped seductively and the curve of her ass was pronounced slightly by bunching sheets falling over the dimples in the small of her back.

"If you keep staring at me I'm going to turn the other way," she mumbled sleepily. Draco grinned happily and a thin hand brushed across her forehead, her blue eyes opening slowly as she met his grey gaze.

This was the first morning they had woken up together after many secret rendezvouses and a hidden courtship and the blonde wizard did not know why he had ever hesitated to allow his co-worker to spend the night when waking up the next morning holding her luscious body felt so right.

"How did I ever get so lucky to have such a beautiful witch fall in love with me?" Draco asked rhetorically, his inner musings earning a slow smirk from Isla as she tilted her head to look at him better.

"What makes you think that I love you?" She questioned playfully, honey eyebrows arching with a tease as a small hand slid up the bed to rest beside her face next to the pillow.

"For one, you just said you did," Draco replied cheekily, his muscled torso lightly shaking as he held in a laugh at the sexy pout that puckered Isla's lips. "And two, how could you not? I mean, I'm like the total package."

"Wow," Isla said with fake incredulity. "Ego much?"

Draco grinned handsomely and placed a large hand on her bare back to pull her forward against his chest, their naked limbs tangling beneath the silken sheets.

"You love stroking my big ego," he whispered, his rich voice dropping an octave as Isla grinned girlishly and placed her short fingers against his stubbled jaw.

"No," she affirmed. "But I do love you."

"Ah ha!" Draco triumphed. "I knew you did. You really shouldn't be afraid to tell me how great I am, love. I never get tired of hearing it."

Isla playfully smacked his chest but her gaze was serious when she inched her face closer to his until their noses were barely touching. Draco let the glorious sneer fall from his features to become a hesitant half frown, half smile as his full lips parted gently.

The distance was covered easily and it was a scant second before their lips met familiarly, Draco gripping Isla by the back of her neck as he kept her in place as his fervent mouth left her lips slightly swollen and parted, breathless from an early morning kiss of passion. Their foreheads touched sweetly and Draco focused Isla's gaze as he hesitated before speaking.

"I love you too," he said and for the first time since his mother's passing, Draco meant those four small words.

Tears of joy whet the corners of her eyes and Isla sighed contentedly, her shoulders relaxing as she leaned forward once more to press her lips against Draco's. New love was coursing through their veins, exciting their eager mouths and both blondes were anxiously awaiting the journeys that would come with their budding relationship, anticipating the memories that would be sure to build the foundation of their lives together.

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The sun was peaking over the tops of the shabby London buildings, a biting winter wind shaking his clothing as Draco drunkenly stumbled over the uneven cobblestones until he dazedly yanked on the door knob to enter the theater. His facial hair was more unkempt than usual and he pressed a flat hand to his matted blonde hair, stroking the messy locks absently. He staggered against the shadowed walls and cursed to himself as he struggled to find the dark outline of the hidden door to that damned Shakespeare's rooms.

Thankfully no one else was awake at the this hour or Draco would have been embarrassed to be seen so unorganized. Well better yet, he would be embarrassed at his actions once he was sober and painfully remembered any blanch worthy remarks he had made.

He had left Isla naked in the bedroom the previous night and hurriedly left the theater to escape the waves of guilt, shame, and remorse that had immediately plagued him. The strange broken look in her blue eyes had left him wondering what else he had done in their past to warrant such a distraught stare but Draco had not let himself ponder on the subject because his blonde head was still spinning with fractured memories, distorted images filling his brain as if their hasty coupling had triggered pieces of his lost consciousness. It did not take long for his feet to find the dark path to the dingy tavern from earlier in the day and he made sure he was well past inebriated by the time the sun came up and he stumbled back.

"Bloody door," he muttered when his stuttering fingers found the familiar door and slipped between the crack to peel it open unsuccessfully. The tiny lock above the door jam was carefully slid in place and Draco eyed the short metal with wobbly eyes as he felt along his body for the thin shape of his wand. Pulling the stick from his trousers, he waved it in a disjointed circle and hiccuped, "Alohamora."

His hand jerked at the door handle once the light click of the lock told Draco his spell had worked and he pulled at the door as a void of darkness told his stumbling brain that William and Isla were still sleeping. He blinked rapidly but his eyes could not adjust quick enough as tried to lightly pull the door shut behind him, extinguishing a majority of the light from the room as an even snore reverberated across the dark space. The more sober part of his mind told Draco that he was going to run in to everything in his path to find the bedroom and fall into sleep's arms but he was not thinking fast enough to realize what he needed to do in order to prevent his incumbent noises.

"Muffliato," he slurred. And then, "Silencio," as his tired grey eyes peered into the vast shadows. A barely there sliver of light ran parallel to the wooden floor and somehow Draco knew it was coming from the bedroom he sought. His feet shuffled and he miraculously avoided any large collisions as the line of brightness came closer, tentatively placing a hand out to feel for the door before sliding his fingers down the wood to find the metal handle and effectively close around it's circular shape.

The hinges creaked as the rectangular entryway opened and Draco held himself surprisingly well as he waited at the threshold. Isla's hour glass figure and curly head were outlined by the crisp, white sheets and he dropped his head in shame as his last occurrences in this room, and the reason why he was still drunk, resurfaced. Her face was turned from him, effectively hidden in the crook of her elbow as her nose buried in the pillow, and Draco absently let a smile tug at one corner of his lips as the fleeting thought from his memories reminded him that she slept that way when she was upset or scared. A frown pulled down the slight smile and he grimaced at the notion and remembrance of his vague cruelty to her the night before. His hands itched to roam over the sinful curves of her beautiful body, caressing her flesh until all coherent thoughts were stricken from her mind. His lips begged to remind the witch that somewhere deep down he still loved her, he just needed to find himself before he could return her obviously passionate emotions.

As silently as he could, Draco slipped into the room and shakily pressed the door back into it's frame before he tiptoed along the two feet of space between the wall and the bed to brace himself against the rough stones as he stumbled through removing his clothing. His boots fell atop the random piling of clothes the magical pair had amassed and goose bumps rose across his underwear clad body as Draco turned in the short space to knock his calves against the frame of the bed. Glad that his silencing charms were still in place, he placed both hands on the mattress as his knees met the sheets and he gently moved up the bed until he was lying atop the covers on the empty left side facing Isla's back. Long legs kicked behind him several times until he picked up the edge of the sheets and he picked up the coverings to maneuver himself underneath as quietly as possible. The gentle rising and falling of his bed mate's back hypnotized Draco and a large hand separated the distance across the sheets to lay soundlessly next to her form, the tips of his fingers grazing her cotton nightgown as he quickly slipped into a tumultuous sleep, whisps of blonde curls just out of his reach as he chased a phantom woman through his dreams.

Turning over to stretch her stiff arms Isla immediately recognized the presence of another heavy body in the bed beside her and she hastily glanced to her right only to release a relieved gasp when she saw Draco's peaceful sleeping form. Her blue eyes traveled across the expanse of the bed, noticing his outstretched arm and her heart lurched painfully in her chest as tears threatened to spill over the brims of her eyelashes and visibly identify her sorrow.

A thick lock of flaxen hair angled across his wrinkled brow, his grey eyes moving rapidly behind his eyelids as his full lips twitched with irritation. The veined marble of his pale skin glistened where sweat was forming and Isla kept her hands tucked beneath her pillow so as to not trace her fingertips over the tempting planes of his bare chest. How did this happen? She thought. How did we let it get this far?

They were lying so close, yet the distance seemed insurmountable as Isla stared sadly at the sleeping Draco. She could faintly smell the alcohol on his person and her nose wrinkled, her mind whirling, at the prospect of how much he had drank and what else he had done to dispel his anger. A handful of memories replayed in her thoughts of Draco becoming belligerently drunk when they were out and then picking a fight with any wizard or Muggle who stepped in his path. Since there were no bruises or scratches anywhere to be seen, she assumed that he had merely drowned his sorrows in pint after pint of ale.

When the sight of his comatose, angelic face became too much, Isla pulled the covers off herself and crept down the bed as silently as possible. Knowing that he had probably just entered the realm of dreams she turned her back to the bed when her bare feet hit the cool wooden floors before padding to the far corner where she searched for a suitably warm dress to wear for the day. Deciding black was appropriately fitting for her mood, she pulled a thick, modest dress of ebony velvet from the pile and quickly pulled the cotton nightgown over the curves of her torso and the swelling of her breasts, tossing her blonde curls about as the fabric left her body. The black gown fit as perfectly as every other garment William had loaned her and Isla smoothed out the wrinkles across the slightly rounded pudge of her stomach, frowning at the feel of several pounds added to her frame and thinking passingly that she needed to spread her wings more often to get some exercise.

The thin wooden door opened with a slight creak and she winced at the noise, her neck rotating to glance at the bed and to make sure Draco was still sleeping. His light snoring had not paused and he clenched his fingers around the fabric of the sheets, grasping for someone who was not there, as his arm twitched and he mumbled incoherently. Isla's chest constricted, painfully aware that his unconscious mind and body were needing her despite his waking demeanors.

I can't dwell on this now. Time is running out; we need to be ready to find the necklace and leave in two months.

That thought in mind, Isla pushed her hips sideways through the crack of the open door, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she crossed over the threshold and pulled the door shut silently behind her. Exhaling with a slight sigh, she brushed her sweating palms down the front of her dress and turned to walk through the small office lounge and realized with a startle that William had been trying unsuccessfully to move through the outer door to escape to the open theater. His steps faltered when he saw that Isla had seen him and he hesitated with his hand on the door knob as she slowly walked to meet him.

"Good mornin'," he said politely when she stopped in front of his nervous form.

"Good morning," she replied but held her mouth open as if trying to find the right words to say. "I'm sorry about last night, William. Your advances were improper but I should have - reacted better."

Black eyelashes narrowed around his chocolate gaze as William's dark, scratchy beard jumped around his ticking jaw and he took a moment to peer accusingly at Isla in the darkened room before he nodded his dark curls slowly.

"I appreciate that," he said with timed rhythm. "I shall apologize this once but never more on my feelings upon this matter. I feel great sorrow for any undue hardship I have placed upon your relationship with your intended. I can understand now that you are truly in love with that despicable man and I will remove all attempts to win your heart and convince you otherwise. You are a brave and kind woman, Isla, and I do not hope you are choosing the wrong path but he will only cause your heart pain." At her incredulously raised eyebrows, he blushed and turned his gaze after his hasty words. Even a well versed playwright could become tongue tied when speaking on matters of love. "I apologize once more, you will only hear the sounds of my opinions when you ask for them."

"Oh William," Isla gushed, and although it didn't help his jittery nerves or his pledge to become a platonic friend, she wrapped her arms tightly around his torso and hugged the dark haired man who stiffened in the circle of her limbs. Her tangled curls scratched his bare neck and their even heights allowed her breath to pleasantly roll over the whispy spirals at the bottom of his hairline. "If only we had met under different circumstances..."

The open ended statement gave rise to his fluttering heart and William placed a warm hand against the curve of her back as he stroked the velvet dress awkwardly. He hoped by removing that little contact and leaning his weight backwards away from her pressing hug that Isla would understand his anxious stance and take her reaffirming arms away from his tense body. His uncomfortability did not reach her radar but Isla stepped back anyways as relief drew a small smile across her facial features, happiness apparent as she retained the most valuable friend she could have right now.

"Well - um - we should get out to the stage," William faltered after clearing his throat to kill the silence in the space between them.

Isla nodded eagerly, anticipating the fresh air and frivolity of the play's progression to clear her mind and ease the tension across her shoulders, but furrowed her brows and frowned slightly when he then asked cautiously, "Will Drake be joining us soon then?"

"Oh ... uh - I don't think so," she admitted. "He was pretty knackered when he came in from the pub -"

Even in the very dim lighting she could see the disapproving scowl that marred William's face. The play was set to open the night after next; surely the writer and director was not happy with a feature actor denouncing last minute rehearsals for a session of binge drinking.

"He has his lines memorized, he knows them all," Isla hurriedly added, her deploring tone weakening William's building temper as his shoulders relaxed slightly and he hmph'ed disagreeably.

"No matter. I can stand in for him today, they are my words after all," he responded arrogantly and Isla gritted her teeth at his obvious and repeated disapproval of Draco. William finally was able to finish turning the door knob and he opened the wooden entryway to walk outside. She was right behind him and for once was glad that she would not need someone to distract her from watching Draco recite his words poetically. They parted to go their separate ways but William tugged lightly at her arm just as she was walking up to the first step to the rows of seats, his dark head bent expectantly as he asked, "I do wish to speak to you more about the topic and idea for the Queen's play. Will you meet with me after we are finished Thursday night to discuss everything?"

Her mouth remained parted as her blonde head tilted to the side and she inhaled quickly, scrutinizing the possibility that his invitation was proposed as a friend rather than a man still looking to find a way inside her knickers.

"Yes, that will be fine," Isla cautiously responded, thankful that they would endure the first night of the play before they had to speak.

William nodded eagerly, his hand gripping the wooden banister as he smiled wide. "Excellent." The grin slapped across his features twinkled merrily in his brown eyes and Isla felt her shoulders tense at the intensity of his gaze, an adoring look that she had not seen directed towards her in many months. He turned easily, releasing the wooden beam as went, and loped off to brace his hands on the edge of the stage and vault himself over the ledge.

"Fantastic," she muttered and trudged down the empty aisle to plop down in her usual spot facing the center of the stage.

The actors were struggling through the Third Act, William stopping their lines every other phrase to add pointers from his intimate position within the troupe, when the door below the seats slammed against the stone wall and Draco strutted out into the foreground. He was wearing the navy blouse, blatantly smeared with their dried juices covering the back as Isla had mischievously done earlier, and a pair of brown trousers. Horribly mismatched but he did not seem to notice as he moved to the edge of the stage and loosely placed his hands on his hips in a somewhat dramatic gesture.

"Did ya start without me, Willy?" He called, his words slurring slightly as his blindingly still drunk movements swayed his body.

Isla was standing against the wooden railing, her small hands clutching the banister as she leaned over the edge to watch wordlessly.

The men on the stage looked at each other questioningly, their stares eventually turning to William as the dark haired man had the decency to blush at the wizard's brazen actions and he moved through the throng of gathered actors to shortly walk to the ledge where he towered over Draco.

Glancing side to side to make sure no one heard him, William harshly whispered, "I do not think you are in any state to get up on this stage today. You are still intoxicated. Go back inside and sleep it off."

Draco dropped his hands and guffawed, his bearded face stretched in nefarious anger as he began making loud noises of discontent.

"You're telling me what to do now?" Draco called when William turned his back and began walking back to the curiously watching men. "That's it. I've had it with this charade we're playing here."

"Draco no!" Isla screamed across the relatively short distance as his slender hand fumbled within the band of his trousers to grope for his wand. His motions stilled and his blonde head popped up when she yelled and he rotated his neck to find the source of her voice. William strutted back to the edge of the stage and sneered at Draco as the blonde turned his attention back to the dark haired writer.

"Listen to the woman, she might be able to knock some sense into that thick skull of yours."

"Why I oughta-" Draco leered, his hand once more searching for the handle of his wand as he rushed forward in attack mode. In a second split thinner than time itself, William blinked and suddenly Isla was right next to Draco, her entire body wrapping around his staggering frame as she held his arms at his side and kept him from bolting forward anymore. Her closeness was not weakening his intent to fight so her grip must have been fairly strong as the blonde witch held tight with her chin resting on the corner of his left shoulder.

"Stop it, Draco," she soothed. "Calm down."

"Calm down?" He shouted, straining harder to remove the vice like grip her arms had around him. "This bloody wanker has been taunting me since we got here! And he can't keep his damn eyes off you! He deserves a good thrashing if you ask me!"

William crossed his arms over his chest, his eyebrows raised in humor as he watched gleefully as Isla successfully held Draco captive. The blonde man struggled relentlessly but his drunken body was tiring quickly and soon his exhausted muscles stopped, Isla's hands running up and down his stomach calmly to soothe his temper.

"Come on, Draco, let's go back to bed," she stated, both hands leaving their circle around his torso as she grabbed one set of fingers tightly and jerked him back towards her. William remained standing haughtily above them, smirking boldly as the wizard glared daggers at his proud chest. He watched as Draco allowed Isla to pull him away from the near public disaster, his chocolate eyes narrowing slightly at the ease with which she forgot the previous night's events and how she had cried herself to sleep. He would never tell her so but William had followed the pair into his office last night and he had leaned carefully against the door while they had argued inside the bedroom. He did not have to see them having sex to know that it had not been completely pleasurable for either. Shaking his head sadly for the woman who deserved so much better and for the man who was a dark enigma for all, William clapped his hands and turned back to the gossiping actors, ready to start from the beginning and begin fresh with a near perfect rehearsal.

It was only twelve hours later but Isla had a strange sense of deja-vu as she dragged Draco through the dark study lounge before hastily turning the door knob and throwing the bedroom door open. It was her turn to toss Draco into the room and he blankly stared at her as she rounded on him to begin kicking and screaming until she got her point across.

"What in bloody hell do you think you were doing out there?" She accused, breasts heaving distractingly. "I don't care how drunk you are, there is NO excuse for you to bring out your wand and curse a Muggle!"

"I don't exactly think he's a Muggle the way he's bewitched you!" Draco lamely retorted, his grey eyes bulging as he attempted to keep his angry mask in place when he leaned too far to the left and wobbled precariously until he almost gracefully landed on the edge of the mattress.

"Just go back to sleep, Draco, and we'll discuss your stupidity when you're sober," Isla sighed, her blue eyes rolling impatiently. Without waiting for his response she shook her head at him pitifully, hand turning the door knob as she turned sideways to slip through the opening door.

"How were you going to get the necklace?" Draco called as she was pulling the door shut, Isla paused and she glanced at his nervous face through the sliver of open door. "Before we left Scotland, what was your plan to get into the palace?"

She hesitantly pushed the door open again and barely stepped over the threshold before she stilled with her shoulder pressing against the wooden frame.

"I've been thinking about it all night," he continued, his strong fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on the seam of his trousers as his grey eyes steadily avoided looking up to see the emotion on her face. "How were you going to get there and back safely with the jewelry?"

"I was going to fly," Isla responded simply.

Draco jerked his head up and cocked his head questioningly until realization brought the spark of ah ha! into his silver orbs.

"That's it?"

She shrugged shortly, meeting his gaze easily as she nonchalantly replied, "That's it. Still my plan too."

A wide yawn stretched his mouth wide and prevented Draco from asking another question that would surely be lost in his drunken memories. Isla let the corner of her lips turn up in a small smile and she nodded curtly when he reopened his mercury eyes and peered curiously at her still standing in the doorway as if she was really going to leave.

"Are you not going to lay with me?" Draco asked innocently and she was reminded of his innocuous behavior earlier when she had woken, his hand reaching out to her even in his sleep.

"I don't think that would be a good idea," she responded truthfully. He looked dismayed but nodded agreeably anyways. "Sleep well, my dragon," she said before stepping out of the bedroom and shutting the door with a soft click and another crack in her heart.

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A Midsummer Night's Dream opened on All Hallow's Eve to a full house. The last forty eight hours had been stressful for every person involved with the show, so much so that Draco and Isla saw little of each other besides when they were getting into or out of bed. She had volunteered to help the seamstress with last minute alterations, removing her solitary presence from rehearsals as the company of actors cracked down to perfect their lines and scenes before the big night.

When the first Act began, Isla was in her perfunctionary seat, waiting expectantly with the crowds of excited Londoners for the quieting ripple that preceded the beginning of the show. The flames surrounding the circular stadium seats were dimmed and the lights nearest the stage were lit aflame as the first scene opened and the people were silent as they watched in awe.

Each line he spoke, Isla mouthed with Draco, every phrase and wording perfect as Oberon ruled the forests, the Erkling in costume and attitude. When the very last scene was coming to an end, she sat on the sharp edge of her seat, waiting on bated breath for Draco to poetically finish his last bit of monologue.

"...Every fairy take his gait;
And each several chamber bless,
Through this palace, with sweet peace;
And the owner of it blest
Ever shall in safety rest.
Trip away; make no stay;
Meet me all by break of day."

He proffered his arm and Henry, decked to the nines as Titania in a fashionable fiery wig and sumptuous earthen gown, wove his hand through as the pair glided into the darkness of the stage, exiting silently as Theodore hoped about playfully reciting Puck's final lines and the last words to the show.

" ... So, good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends."

Theodore dipped his head in a mock bow, praising the audience as he backed off the stage to a sudden uproarious applause.

Nearly a half hour later, once the overjoyed crowd had dispelled and the actors were able to leave the company of politicians, family, and various people claiming interviews, Isla stood waiting under the low hanging roof that ran along the railing of the second floor of seats inside the theater. She nervously awaited as Draco's blonde head weaved through the remaining persons in front of the stage, his grey gaze intent on her blonde head as he politely dodged questions and well wishers.

"What did you think?" He asked with a bright smile when he reached her leaning against a wooden pillar. "Maybe when we return home I could find work as an unpaid actor," he joked and they both laughed awkwardly, glancing away when the forced stare became too much.

"You were great," Isla conceded, her hands twisting as she nodded earnestly to reaffirm her point. "Bloody fantastic, actually."

His chest seemed to puff slightly and his blonde head and bearded chin tilted just a bit higher as a broad smile widened his lips and revealed the white tips of his teeth.

"Why thank you. Someone had to carry the show," Draco boasted playfully, his serious tone betrayed by his full grin at her praises.

They lapsed into a strained silence; Isla watching his now anxious face as Draco nervously bit at the inside of his lip. Wordlessly her left hand slid around her waist to flick behind her back and carefully she pulled her arm back around as she produced a single white rose, magic still glistening on the edges. His grey eyes shifted and widened at the flower, his gaze jumping to her blue orbs as Isla smiled tightly.

"For you," she said pushing the rose towards his moving hand. "I know it's usually a bouquet but - time restraints and all." She shrugged aimlessly and Draco pinched the stem between two fingers, mindful not to prick himself on a thorn. He stared at the open petals of the rose thoughtfully as Isla waited for anything, his response or a truthful gesture that would give her even a slight glimpse into what he was thinking.

"I'm sorry for the other night," he apologized quietly, her ears perking up and honey eyebrows raising slightly as she listened carefully to his words. "I cannot promise you much but I will try."

The rose was nearly crushed between their bodies as Isla pressed her curly head against his rapidly beating heart, her hands fisting in the lapels of his foresty costume as her blue eyes shut peacefully.

"I just want us to get out of this together, Draco," she mumbled against the extravagant fabric. "No matter what it takes, I'm not leaving here without you," she promised and the large hand that was not captured between their bodies gently pressed into the small of her back as he held her there.

"That's all we can hope for," he responded, sighing easily as Isla nodded against his chest, her errant curls brushing his chin as they stood peacefully, their bodies melded together like puzzle pieces. "We'll be just fine, love. We'll be just fine," Draco repeated and for the first time since he had woken up missing a majority of his memories and seemingly all his senses, the blonde wizard believed the affirmation as he held Isla tighter to his strong frame and glanced to the bright night sky, thanking his lucky stars that they truly were in this together.

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A/N:

Thank you for reading! By the time this is posted the next chapter will be up and running (if not posted if you're a slacker reader) and will be that much closer to the final chapters. Not too much more to go, I'm anxious for the ending parts that have been long planned out in my bouncing brain.

So hold tight kiddies, another chapter is soon coming. But until then ... leave a review, won't you?