.21.

For days Dorian attempted to persuade Hermione to tell her friends about what she had confessed to him by the lake – the truth about her heritage. Each time she vehemently refused without explaining why. Even without explanations, it was obvious to him that Hermione was desperately afraid about how they would react to it.

Despite protesting that her friends had a right to know, particularly after what they had all been through together, he was aware that telling them would be problematic. Draco Malfoy was as big a git as he had ever met. So telling them that he was technically her twin brother? Talk about teething issues.

All the same, Dorian wondered if the right moment to tell them would ever occur. Life had gotten frightfully hectic over the last few weeks. Not only did Dorian have to put up Aedion and Rowan's grudge, which showed no signs of abating, he also had to put up with Tamlin hounding him.

He wondered vaguely if Tamlin was jealous of how much time he was spending with Hermione. From what he had observed, Tamlin was still very much jealous of the relationship Feyre had with Rhysand. So it wasn't totally inconceivable that he was jealous of the friendship that he had struck up with Hermione.

No matter how hard he tried, Dorian could not for the life of him see what Hermione had ever seen in Tamlin. He was stuck up, prejudiced, deeply arrogant, completely obsessed with the girl who had jilted him, and also deeply jealous of whom Hermione spent time with. It was as though Tamlin thought he had to watch her, in order to make sure that she was behaving "appropriately". It was also pretty clear that Tamlin was irked that Hermione spent so much of her time with boys. Dorian hated him deeply – Tamlin was far too controlling for his liking. Jealousy wasn't a good look on a man. Dorian wondered how Hermione put up with him, though to be fair; Hermione seemed to become a much nicer person when Tamlin wasn't around.

After a couple of weeks, however, Tamlin and Hermione were pushed to the back of Dorian's mind. At breakfast one day, it was announced that Professor Flitwick had died in the night. Dorian barely heard the details of the funeral that was to be held the following day in the school's cemetery. In that moment, all Dorian could think about was Aelin. He knew how hard the news of Professor Flitwick's death would hit her, and was horrified at how casually Headmistress McGonagall had told them.

"Hey Dorian," Hermione panted, running to catch up with him as hurried out of the Great Hall. "I was thinking of telling my friends the truth later, and was wondering if you could be there for moral support—"

"Maybe another time," Dorian muttered, looking around wildly for Aelin.

"But—"

"Another time," Dorian insisted. "There's something I need to do right now." Finally spotting Aelin, Dorian scurried off, leaving Hermione staring after him in bewilderment.

"Hey, Aelin!" Dorian called, literally running to catch up. "Aelin, wait up!"

Aelin paused momentarily, turned and saw Dorian and then stalked off with Aedion and Rowan tailing her.

"Aelin!" Dorian called again impatiently. He wasn't about to take no for an answer. "I need to talk to you, Aelin. Please stop."

Once again Aelin paused, turning back to glare at Dorian. "Well for your information, I don't want to talk to you, so you'd better bugger off."

"I just wanted to make sure that you're alright," Dorian panted, finally catching up. "After what the Headmistress just announced about poor old Professor Flitwick…"

"Yes, I just heard the Headmistress' announcement," Aelin snapped, tears welling in her eyes. "I'm pretty sure that we all did. And by the way, why on earth would I be alright?"

Dorian started. He'd been prepared for Aelin's anger, but not for her grief. Although, at the same time, he didn't know why he was so surprised for. He had been witness her grief for Nehemia, after all.

"I know that you're hurting, Aelin," Dorian said gently, smiling a faintly smug smile. "I know what Professor Flitwick meant to you. He was a good man, and we all cared about him. He did so much for all of us this year. But please, don't shut me out. I'm your friend, and I care about you."

"Are you my friend now, Dorian?" Aelin asked, rising to her full height and glaring obtrusively. "As far as I remember, you only ever considered yourself my friend when there was some benefit to you. Material benefit, my money, the acquisition of my kingdom, the possibility of using me for sex; does any of this sound familiar to you, or should I keep going?"

Dorian stared at Aelin blankly. Did Aelin really think he was so materialistic and so venal? If so, he didn't know what he would do. He couldn't bear losing her as a friend, although he feared that he already had.

"That's not true, Aelin," Dorian said earnestly. "I have always genuinely cared about you as a person. And I always will."

"That's a lie," Aedion snapped, speaking for the first time. "If Aelin believes it's true, than I have no reason to disbelieve her. Especially not when I know your past, your personality."

"My past?" Dorian stumbled back a step, startled. This was not how he expected this conversation to go. He had expected Aelin to accept his comfort and be grateful for his offering it. He had not expected to be castigated and dragged over the coals. "What are you talking about?"

"Do we really have to spell it out for you?" Aedion retorted furiously. "You're used to the material goods you grew up with and used to being doted on and generally adored by everyone you meet. You might not have approved of your father's conquest of our known world, but you did nothing – absolutely nothing – to prevent it. Not when it wasn't your people who were suffering. Just safer not to worry about them, wasn't it? And well, you were always a bit of a whore. Don't even pretend otherwise, Dorian. Not with me. I know you better than that. I've watched you for years. You are nothing but a child playacting at being a man."

To say that Dorian was hurt was an understatement. Was this really how those he had considered his friends thought of him? Did Chaol think of him like that? As a no good little piece of shit? Maybe he had always been a little selfish, but there was no need to go that far. Hermione didn't think of him that way, he knew, but then again Hermione didn't know him very well yet. But when she did get to know him better, would she continue think of him the same way? He didn't know. The thought didn't bear thinking about for very long.

"I thought I told you to bugger off, Dorian," Aelin said, controlling her tears and her anger at last, her signature flames suddenly swirling around her clenched fists. "Don't make me burn you. You would just hate to see that pretty face of yours burnt."

Dorian backed up a step. Then another. Then Dorian turned around and walked away. It was always safer not to risk Aelin's wrath. She always meant her promises. With every step, Dorian felt something primal shatter inside of him. His soul, shattering into a thousand pieces. This was what happened when the people you had always thought of as your friends turned their backs on you.

He had never truly gotten along with either Aedion or Rowan, it was true, but he had always respected them. Like Aelin, they had survived when everything they had held dear was lost. They had always held firm. They had survived the war when so many had not. They had survived when so many innocents had perished due to his father's actions. There was much to admire in a survivor. Briefly, Dorian wondered if things would have been different if he had told the pair of them how much he had always respected and admired them. He doubted it, though. Their first allegiance was always to Aelin.

Dorian didn't know how long he walked for. But, judging from the changing shadows and the strain in his legs, it must have been hours. A part of him couldn't quite comprehend the fact that he had been so cowardly. Had he really just given up and walked away from a fight? It wasn't what his father would have done. But perhaps that had been the right thing to do at the time. Perhaps his father had been wrong about that as well.

Note to self, never pick a fight with anyone unless absolutely necessary, Dorian viciously thought to himself. Especially not with Aelin. You know what a vicious temper she has.

But he hadn't been attempting to pick a fight with Aelin. He had just been trying to let her know that he sympathized with her loss, because it was a loss that he, too, felt. On the other hand, he had heard her speak about Professor Flitwick a few weeks ago, about how much he reminded her of her lost family, and in that way he truly didn't understand. Aelin had loved her family, and mourned them every day, grieved by the fact that she had not been able to say goodbye. He, Dorian, on the other hand, hated his family and had never considered himself to have an actual family. His friends had always been his family. In that way, Aelin had been right. He didn't understand. He never would.

Dorian had lost all sense of time and direction when he vaguely heard someone calling out to him. The voice was familiar, but he was unable to place it. All he was able to discern about the voice was that it was female and sounded quite urgent. Perhaps it's Aelin, come back to apologise, he thought hopefully.

It wasn't Aelin. It was Hermione. Despite everything he knew Dorian was unable to think of her as a Malfoy. It just wasn't possible. Hermione was far too nice, far too decent a person, to ever be considered a Malfoy.

"What is it this time Hermione?" Dorian snapped at her as he whirled around angrily.

"I told them," Hermione sniffed. "I told Harry and Ginny. I told the both of them everything."

"And?"

"And they were absolutely furious! They're never ever going to speak to me again!" Hermione wailed desperately, heartbroken.

"Did you really think that telling them today of all days would be a good idea?" Dorian griped at her. "How could you honestly think that telling them now was a good idea? Just after being told that that their Professor has just died! Did you even think about what they're probably feeling? No, of course you didn't. You just thought about yourself. Come on, Hermione, honestly!"

"Why are you being so mean?" Hermione sobbed.

"Maybe you should start thinking more about how you affect the people around you," Dorian snapped. "You do realise that the world doesn't revolve around you, don't you?"

Hermione just sobbed harder, shaking her head furiously – not in denial, but more as though to protect herself from the onslaught of Dorian's angry words.

"Please, Dorian," Hermione choked out brokenly. "I did ask you this morning to be there for me when I told them, but you just brushed me off."

"Is that your way of saying that your problems are more important than mine?" Dorian asked indignantly, standing tall and firm. "Because if it is, I'll have you know that I'm starting to suspect that you have to be one of the most self-centred, selfish people I have ever met, and that's saying something."

"No! NO!" Hermione cried. "You have it all wrong!"

"Just what the hell is going on here?" a new voice said sharply, as Tamlin, Harry and Ginny rounded the corner to face them.