"What are you up to, Luna?"
The other girl smiles up at Hermione from her modified muggle laptop; Harry had braided her hair, so her face is fully visible for once, eyes popping with the matched shade of the t-shirt she'd borrowed from Harry when her own blouse felt uncomfortable.
"Working on an article for the Quibbler," she smiles, eyes happy as they always are when she mentions her father's publication.
Sofia peeks up at her brother's girlfriend from where she hums while coloring, laying down on the carpet. She's only ever half-interested in what they're doing when Ginny's not around—she'd quickly decided the redhead was the coolest person on the planet, and stuck to her like glue whenever she was over.
(She's similarly infatuated with Blaise, who's visited twice now, partially because of his status as Ginny's soul mate and partially because of his own snarky charm and propensity for funny insults.)
"What's this one about, Lu?" Harry asks, eyes genuinely interested from his seat at the chess board with Ron, a hand absently moving to pet Crookshanks in his lap.
"How the exploitation of centaur habitats is both morally wrong and contributing to climate change." Luna makes a face. "I know it feels hard for things like that to matter when there's a war on the horizon—it's difficult to take a threat that seems so far away seriously when just surviving through to graduation feels impossible. But if something doesn't change soon, there'll be nothing left when we do survive." She rolls her eyes. "Not that people should need a self-serving reason to care about other creatures, but I'll appeal to whatever I have to."
Hermione gives her a bright smile. "I love you." She sighs, tilting her head onto Luna's shoulder. "Always, but especially when you're fighting for what's right. I'm so glad I have you."
"We were destined to be friends," Luna grins with a wink, knowing how the mention of fate will make Hermione groan, giggling when the brunette mimes retching.
Hermione fades into silence, book in front of her but thoughts far away from its contents.
She thumbs at the necklace around her throat—a simple but beautiful piece, silver with the smallest red gem at the center, one Draco'd managed to coerce Blaise into buying under the guise of a peace offering for his girlfriend's best friend so that Hermione could wear it freely.
After a few minutes Sof grows tired of her coloring book, abandoning it to clamber over on the couch with a modified muggle toy, leaning up against Hermione until she makes room for Sofia to put her head in her lap.
(Hermione rolls her eyes at the younger girl's attempts to bat the book out of her hands, disinclined toward reading as she is.)
"Any new word from the Order on what's happening?" Ron asks as he takes out one of Harry's pawns.
(He doesn't ask if there's any word from Draco—they'd all learned weeks ago that bringing the matter up sent Hermione into an anxious panic.)
(And given that they hadn't heard from him since the start of summer…if there were any news on that front, she would've brought it up before anything else.)
Hermione lets out a weary sigh, ignoring the annoyed faces Sofia makes when the movement of her diaphragm jostles her head. "Just that he's recruiting, and trying to cause as much damage as he can while he does to weaken us before the direct fighting begins. There's a lot of instability in the Ministry since they're going through the process to replace Fudge. It's looking like it'll be the head of the Auror Office, Scrimgeour; Tonks isn't a huge fan of his, but she says he's definitely not corrupt nor as big of an idiot as Fudge, so that's something at least."
"That's good. Hopefully it'll help with some of the unrest; my dad and Percy have been working around the clock—everyone is, with how many attacks there've been."
Harry rubs at his eyes tiredly. "You'd think with some of their major players being arrested a month ago they'd be a bit more limited."
Ron grimaces, like this is the part that's been haunting him. "Exactly. The fact that they're still this active…Voldemort's too careful for it to be a risky move. He's a skilled strategist, so he wouldn't be expending all that effort to cause chaos and panic unless he can afford to do so."
Hermione winces, eyes knowing. "You think he's recruiting even more heavily than we know."
"Has to be."
"And with leadership in shambles, he can appeal to supremacists' darkest thoughts. Make it seem acceptable for even those who think of themselves as rational, unbiased wizards." Hermione's expression is grim. "People will stand behind a rationale that makes them think themselves better than the rest of the world. And telling them it's their very blood—that they're superior because of something so inherent, that they come from magical stock and others don't…" She shakes her head. "Things are going to get very, very bad."
They're all quiet for a moment, and then Ron jumps to his feet. "That's it!" His eyes, wide with epiphany, are on Luna. "That's the answer!"
Harry makes an awkward, closed-mouth smile. "Right, that's not creepy at all, mate." He sighs. "What's the answer?"
"Last year, during ASA, you said Voldemort was half-blood—his real name was Riddle, right?"
Luna hums with understanding. "You want me to write an expose—that's quite brilliant, Ronald."
Hermione holds up her hands. "Wait, I'm confused. It's not as though he's muggle-born—why would it matter that much to everyone to know he's a half-blood?"
"Yeah, I'm confused too," Harry agrees, looking back and forth between his best friend and his girlfriend.
Ron blows out a breath, leaning forward while he searches for the right words. "It's—because you both were raised by muggles, I don't think you fully realize the way blood is perceived by purebloods." His voice is gentle—it's clear he knows the topic is sensitive, and doesn't want to accidentally say the wrong thing. "Even in houses that were against Voldemort's regime, like mine…he's spoken of as something of a legend—a terrible person, don't get me wrong, but—infallible, unbeatable, the champion of the sacred twenty-eight's cause."
"It's true," Luna says, making a face. "He was in power from the time our parents' generation was young, and he'd already taken on the Lord Voldemort moniker. That's why Susan was so shocked when you mentioned it, Harry—her family was on the frontlines of the Order, and even she had no idea he wasn't what he claims to his followers."
"But that's just because it's an easy rallying point," Harry blinks. "I mean, we talked about it, right? He claims it's a blood thing because then people back him, it's a way to get them all to fight, especially when times are tough and people are especially glad to find someone to blame. What good would exposing him do?"
"It undermines the cause," Ron explains, gesturing to the game board between them. "Think about it like chess—the king doesn't need to believe he's right, or even be right. He just needs to convince the pawns of it so that they'll defend him, stand between him and the enemy, conquer everyone who gets his way so that he's the only one in power. But if you can convince them he's not worth defending, that the claims he's made are all lies, some will realize the cause doesn't serve them the way they thought and abandon it. The ones who truly do believe in blood supremacy might turn from the thought of following a half-blood—which, problematic, obviously, but works in our favor. And then the ones who were drawn in by the idea of power and not being the ones targeted realize the fallibility of the ideology and abandon it as well. In theory, anyway."
"Not all of them will, though," Hermione cautions. "People are—erring, illogical, and often self-serving, especially when we have such a deep and blind allegiance to a person or thing. For a lot of them—especially the ones who supported him in the last war—to acknowledge Voldemort's illegitimacy means confronting their own part in aiding and enabling him, and acknowledging that they've been a part of something horrible. Many will come up with excuses to deny the truth and buckle down twice as strong on their beliefs to avoid the cognitive dissonance of realizing they're not the good they believe themselves to be."
"Still, even if it just keeps him from recruiting any further, it could make a difference," Luna muses softly. "I'll do it."
Hermione's frown is worried, and Harry looks likewise alarmed. "Lu, that would be so dangerous—you'd be making yourself a target. He wouldn't just let it go—he would come after you."
Luna rolls her eyes, looking unbothered. "Babe, I'm the Chosen One's soul mate—he was always going to come after me eventually. And I can't let fear stop me from doing my part. This is what I can do to help, at least a little bit."
Harry turns to Hermione, beseeching her to talk the other girl out of it, but she grimaces at him. "Sorry, Harry, but as much as I want her to be safe…she's right. This could be a game changer. And I can't—Draco is in the middle of the lion's den right now, and we'll never know if something happens until it's too late, and he and Pansy will only continue being in so much danger…" She swallows thickly. "We have to do whatever is in our power to help end this war. You know that as well as I do—if it were you on the line you wouldn't hesitate."
(It's brutally honest—lets them all see through the cracks of her act, how truly terrified she is for Draco however much she assures them all she's fine.)
Luna grips her shoulder in thanks, even as Harry bites his lip, looking betrayed.
Sofia pads over to him at the sound of his distress, holding up her arms for him to pick her up; he's calmer as she hugs him, soothing both of their touch-starved souls, Harry wholly focused on her well-being the way he always is with Hermione.
"It'll take me a bit—I'll need to find some concrete sources, find out if there's anything else I need to include. I should take a trip to Little Whinging…" Luna trails off, fingers already typing away as she begins looking up more information, thoughts miles past the conversation.
Ron meets Harry's eyes with a grimace. "Hey. She'll be okay. You're soul mate's a badass—in a kind of nerdy way, mind you, but badass all the same."
They return to their game, Harry still on edge but distracted by their conversation.
(Hermione's mind is a million miles away, with a boy in a manor curled in the fetal position, breathing heavy in between curses.)
/
They've just wrapped up an Order meeting, Cedric and Fleur staying behind along with the Weasleys for a round of drinks.
Fred's grumpy because Oliver is out of the country for work all week, while George and Cedric are both a bit down and perpetually anxious as comes with the territory of having a Slytherin soul mate at the moment.
(Hermione wishes she could tell them she understands—wishes they could share their fears, commiserate over the horrible way it feels so out of their control.)
"Fleur that is the least appealing thing I've ever heard," Ginny scowls at her future sister-in-law, where the blonde sits half on Bill's lap, expression pleading. "You know I hate shopping."
"Yes, but I simply must get new cloze for Order business now that things are more public," Fleur insists. "And I 'ate shopping alone—besides, you 'ave phenomenal style, I want your input. I'll buy you lunch! And we can go to the Quidditch supply store you love. Cedric, Fred, George you care about Quidditch things—vat is a new Quidditch gadget I can buy her to convince her to come?"
"Oh there's this fantastic new broom polish—"
"Or the practice Quaffle that will randomly fly away from you to mimic other players' attempts to steal it—"
"Traitors! That's just—rude," Ginny cries, scowling at her brothers. She narrows her eyes at Fleur, but sighs nonetheless, knowing she's definitely going now. "Ugh. Fine. But only because I love you. I'm going to complain the whole time."
"I expected nothing less," Fleur beams at her, looking delighted at the prospect. She catches Hermione sticking her tongue out at Ginny and smirks. "You, too, 'Ermione. I find I need a third set of eyes."
"But—"
"Non, it's 'appening. Cheer up, we'll go to ze bookstore too." Fleur smiles wickedly when Hermione groans, all too pleased with herself.
"I'll tag along," Tonks says. "I've been avoiding buying actual maternity clothes, but I haven't been able to button my jeans for about a month now, so I think I have to cave."
Fleur claps her hands together. "A real girls' day, zen. Perfect."
Clearing his throat, Percy gets to his feet; Tonks, Harry, and Hermione all roll their eyes, knowing where this is going.
He takes a deep breath before speaking. "Dora, you are—the light of my life. I've always been a bit too uptight, terrified of getting it wrong. Being with you reminds me to actually live—reminds me of everything good in this world. I can't believe I'm lucky enough to start a family with you."
He drops down to one knee, making the rest of his family gasp excitedly even as Hermione presses her face into Harry's shoulder to keep them from hearing her laughter.
"Please do me the honor of becoming your husband," Percy says, holding out a simple but beautiful ring, topped by two jade gems, "I can imagine nothing better to be in this world."
The Weasleys all hold their breath; meanwhile, Tonks raises her eyebrows at Percy. "Did you really think that would work?"
Harry and Hermione can't hold it in anymore, both bursting out laughing.
Meanwhile, Percy sighs, slipping the ring back into his pocket and returning to his seat beside her. "No, but I figured it was worth a shot."
Ron's expression is baffled. "What in the bloody hell?"
"I give that one a seven out of ten," Harry comments, still snickering under his breath.
Hermione nods, adding, "Yeah, seven point five from me."
Percy huffs. "What are you taking off so many points for? That was definitely better than the second time, and you both gave that one an eight."
"Yeah but you called her Dora," Hermione reminds him, tutting teasingly. "Plus, you talked a lot about how great she is—which yes, she is, you absolutely should—but you didn't mention all the things you're going to do for her. Last time you promised to be her humble servant till death—you've set a precedent."
"Of course I have," he rolls his eyes. "I'll be sure to keep all of that in mind for the next one."
George raises his hand. "Hi, what in Merlin's name just happened?"
"I proposed. For the fifth time," Percy explains, snorting as Tonks tucks herself into his chest. "After the second, Harry and Hermione took to rating my attempts and providing their feedback."
Bill's eyebrows pull together as he turns to Tonks. "So you said no to his proposal. But you're not broken up…but you don't want to marry him?"
"Oh, I totally want to marry him," Tonks assures him, hair turning pink at the thought, an occurrence which makes Percy grin. "But we're not getting married before the parasite gets here."
"Would you please stop calling our baby names reminiscent of insects?" Percy begs, tilting his forehead against hers.
"Never," she winks cheekily. "They know I mean it affectionately—don't you, hitchhiker?" she croons to the swell of her stomach. "I think I'm allowed to call someone a parasite while I let them use my ribs as a ladder. Did I mention I'm currently receiving hits to the kidney?"
Percy gives her a look. "Just tell me what kind of ice cream you want today, already."
"The muggle strawberry cheesecake," she tells him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "My knight in shining armor."
"Still confused about the proposal!" George exclaims, gaze flickering between the two. "Why don't you want to get married before the baby's born?"
Rolling her eyes, Tonks gestures emphatically. "Because, then everyone will think we're just getting married so lovebug's not born out of wedlock, not because we actually want to be together. I want to make sure it's clear to the world that I am happy to be pregnant out of the realm of propriety."
"She's ridiculous," Percy says, though his gaze smolders. "It's also a little bit because she wants the world to know she's marrying me because we're in love, as much as she doesn't want to admit to such a cheesy rationale."
"Never!"
"You're straight-up insane," her soul mate mutters.
"Only thing straight about me," Tonks grins in reply, laughing when Fred reaches to high-five her, Harry and Cedric likewise cracking up.
"By the way," Fred says, looking to George as they both grow visibly excited, "Our grand opening for the shop will be one month from today. Whoever doesn't come will find nosebleed nougats in their food for the next year."
Cedric raises an eyebrow. "Am I exempt as I'm not family?"
Harry snorts. "Bet. You're as good as."
"He's right," George agrees. "Close as Theo and Daph are, you're stuck with me for the rest of your life."
(He's smiling, but Hermione can see the familiar tension behind it—cracking jokes like the worry isn't killing him inside.)
(Cedric does too—and gives her an odd look when he catches her squeezing her eyes shut at the comment.)
"You need any help—running the register, or anything?" Ron asks tentatively. "I'm trying to get some extra cash so I'm not broke by the time we graduate."
Fred shrugs. "Sounds good to me."
"He just wants an employee discount," Bill teases, laughing when Ron shoves at his shoulder.
"I mean, yeah, but also we don't all make big bucks working for the bank."
Ginny gets to her feet before they can start teasing each other in earnest, stretching with a yawn. She sets down the blue gel pen she's been using to speak to Blaise, who's sequestered at his wealthy family's place for the month, the bright blue ink showing up better against the charcoal shade of her soul mate's skin. "We ready to head out? I am tired and Mum is still insisting we have to de-gnome in the morning, which you know means she'll be harassing us to get up when the sun's barely risen."
"Don't remind me," Ron moans.
"We should be leaving, too," Bill agrees, helping Fleur to her feet. "I have an early day at work, and this one has a host of meetings with ministry officials about the wolfsbane bill she's proposed."
They all make their way through the floo, until only Hermione, Harry, Percy, and Tonks are left, everyone but Tonks finishing off their butterbeers with a pleasant buzz.
Remus peeks his head into the room. "Are all the guests gone?"
Tonks rolls her eyes. "Yes, you ridiculous introvert, it's safe now. Come sit."
He beams, pressing a kiss to her hair as he makes his way to an open seat, Sirius right behind him, just having tucked Sofia in. They sprawl in their seats at the table and Remus starts eating the chocolate cake on his plate.
Harry frowns. "I want cake."
"You already had ice cream today," Sirius rolls his eyes at him. "Surely you don't need even more sugar."
"He had ice cream too, Dad! And we just had a meeting about how a madman is trying to kill me, again—I feel like I deserve as much dessert as I want."
Sirius glares at Remus. "Your influence. This is—all you."
Remus laughs drily, before accio'ing Harry his own slice of cake, which Harry then pushes between he and Hermione to share.
(Ridiculous, she mouths to her brother, even as she takes a bite. You're ridiculous.)
"So," Tonks says, hands moving to her ballooning stomach. "The freeloader will be here in just a couple months." She smirks at Percy's pained face. "Is that not better than parasite?"
He gives her a look but waves for her to keep talking.
She reaches for Remus's hand. "We want to know if you'll be the godfather."
Hermione gasps, ecstatic for him as she looks to Harry, but he's grinning like he already knew this was coming.
Remus blinks in shock, before coughing in a way they all know to mean he's trying to avoid crying. "I—what? Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure," Tonks scoffs, rolling her eyes even as she squeezes his hand gently. "You're family, but—you're also my best friend. And I know that you'll love the little leech unconditionally—I've already seen it in your love for Harry and Sofia, the easy way you're there for Hermione. If something were to happen to Percy and I—" she shakes her head. "The only way I could handle not being there for my kid is if I knew they'd have you. Because then I could trust that they would be happy and healthy and loved."
Remus presses a hand to his mouth, and Tonks scowls. "Don't you dare get emotional on me."
"You're the one who said a bunch of nice things!"
"Okay, well, I take it all back you boring old man!"
Remus lets out a laugh, but then grows somber. "I don't want to take the place of one of Percy's brothers, if you'd prefer, or Harry, if you'd rather someone young—"
"Oh my god, you ridiculous werewolf," Tonks groans as she shakes her head at him. "I was teasing you. Wizards live to be five times the age you are now, you are not old. Second of all, Percy's brothers don't care—and honestly, the only one of them responsible enough is Bill, but he and Fleur want kids of their own soonish. Third of all, the last thing anyone here wants is Harry having more responsibility."
"It's true," Harry agrees. "I do not need one more person dependent on me. The thought is terrifying, honestly—I'd probably drop the baby on its head once a day."
Percy puts his head in his hands, "Not to mention that referring to them as an it is a red flag to begin with. Merlin, you people." He sighs, but looks up at Remus. "Even if none of that were true, you would still be our first choice. We can't imagine anyone better."
"Please say yes," Tonks wheedles.
"Please," Percy pleads in tandem. "This one is bound to get herself killed doing something batshit crazy, and I'll go down trying to stop her. It would greatly reassure me to know when that happens there's someone responsible to look after our kid."
Sirius puts an arm around his husband encouragingly, and Remus smiles despite himself. "I—well, alright, then. It would be an honor."
Tonks cheers, and Harry moves to hug his uncle whilst Sirius mutters something about there not being a good enough wolf-father pun.
So Hermione's blindsided when Percy turns to her and says, "You'll be godmother?"
She gapes, mouth opening and closing as she tries to form words. "I—me?"
"Obviously," Tonks says. "You're practically a Weasley, what with how close you are to Ginny, Ron, and the twins, and Fleur, and Arthur, and—"
Percy snorts, "I think she gets it, sweetheart." He smiles at Hermione. "It's true, though—you're family on both sides, and you've already been half-raising this one for years," he says , tilting his head towards Harry, who nods in agreement.
"And," Tonks adds, looking thrilled. "Obviously I don't want me, Percy, and Remus to all die, but can you just imagine how many blood supremacists would roll over in their graves if a muggle-born and her Malfoy-Black soul mate were raising the child of a half-blood Black and a blood-traitor? Like, really, imagine it. Even if you weren't already the perfect pick, I'd beg you to do it for that alone." Her grin is devilishly infectious, and Hermione finds herself smiling.
"I mean—yes, of course I will," she stutters, cheeks flushed. "Not because of that, though. That's just the icing on the cake."
"You're gonna be great, Mia," Harry promises.
"Poor kid," Sirius sighs sadly. "The two most stick-in-the-mud godparents in the entire universe. So many books for birthday presents."
"Pads, you are married to me."
"Yes, which is why I am the most qualified to insist that you're lame."
Remus raises a shrewd eyebrow. "You and your hand enjoy each other later if I'm so lame, then."
"Oh, god, don't talk about sex while I'm eating," Harry whines.
Percy mimes gagging. "I'm gonna have to agree with Harry on this one—I think Sirius and Andromeda are rubbing off on you, Remus."
"Don't!" Hermione exclaims when Sirius opens his mouth at the comment. She clears her throat. "Also, I thought we should discuss how to proceed with destroying the horcruxes. Or at last brainstorming what and where they might be."
"I mean we know the snake and locket for sure, both of which need to be destroyed," Harry says. "Both of those are Slytherin-y—and the diary was also from his time in Slytherin and talked about opening Slytherin's chamber. Maybe the rest are similarly themed?"
Remus purses his lips. "Perhaps, although given how intelligent he is it seems too predictable."
"Although he did think they'd never be discovered," Tonks points out. "No need to make the objects themselves un-guessable when you think no one could ever find them, or even know about their existence."
"We still need to decide how we want to go about destroying them." Sirius pulls his hair into a bun. "There's merit to waiting till we have them all, just in case he can sense it. But then there's always the possibility that he somehow gets them back, or something happens to us and no one else can destroy them in time."
"I have a friend who's an Unspeakable," Percy offers, hand instinctively going to his unborn child at the reminder of the place they'd been in so much danger recently. "I can find out what information they have on Horcruxes—perhaps she knows if the maker can detect their destruction."
Sirius holds up a hand. "Which begs the question of how we'll actually destroy them, being that the only means at our disposal currently is fiendfyre and that's not at all stable or worth the risk if we can avoid it."
"Oh!" Hermione exclaims, pulling out her wand. "I'd nearly forgotten. I can't believe I—accio backpack!"
The bag in question flies to her, and she hushes their questions as she rummages around through it.
"What on earth can you possibly be looking for in such a small bag?" Harry questions, only for Hermione to shush him again.
Remus's eyebrows shoot upward. "Did you cast an undetectable extension charm on that?"
Hermione pauses in her search, looking up to give him a bashful smile. "I may have."
"That's very impressive, Hermione," he says, looking both shocked and proud. "I don't even teach them in my NEWT course—not even for extra credit."
She blushes. "Thank you. I—it seemed useful to know, so I practiced until I got it." She returns her attention to the bag, at last tugging out a messenger bag from within. "Here. Be careful."
Hermione passes the bag to Harry, who peeks inside and gasps with a delighted chuckle. "You didn't! Oh, god, I love you. I can't believe I never even thought about doing that. Wow. I am an idiot."
"What is it?" Sirius asks expectantly.
"Well, we were already meeting there, and I knew the need would eventually rise and we didn't know when so I figured I should get some to keep on hand so we could all be prepared—"
Sirius narrows his eyes. "What, Hermione?"
"Basilisk fangs," his son tells him with a grin. "She's taken basilisk fangs from the Chamber of Secrets."
/
Hermione jerks awake, unsure as to why she's so abruptly come to—she wasn't having a nightmare, and there are no noises or lights around her.
She reaches for the water on her nightstand, and spots it, then—the ink scrawling across her arm makes her breath catch.
Have five or ten minutes max. I'm alive. I love you.
She can't hold back the sob that escapes her reading it; has spent the whole summer thus far telling herself she'd know somehow if Draco died—would feel it in her bones.
(She hadn't realized how much she didn't believe it until the relief that he's alivefloods through every cell of her body.)
Are you okay? Your mother?
As much as we can be, he writes back. A pause—she knows him well enough to know he's contemplating whether or not to tell her something.
Say it, she writes hurriedly. Whatever it is, it's okay.
His handwriting is messy as it forms beneath—from his hand shaking as he writes.
He's going to Mark me. That's why I have a few minutes alone—to prepare for the ceremony.
Hermione's heart breaks—shatters, knowing how desperately he's always wanted to avoid this. Hating that he's alone.
(That this is only the beginning.)
Before she can reply, he writes, I'm so sorry. I hate it will be on your skin because of me. If there were any way I could—
Hey, no, she scrambles to interrupt him. Don't worry about me. And don't wish for a way to make this go away—the reason we'll both have the Mark is the same one that's allowed us to speak since we were ten.
And the reason you're getting it is because you're brave and good enough to bear such awful circumstances for the sake of what's right. Draco, I am—I am so lucky to be your soul mate. So proud. And this Mark is just one part of that.
I don't want you to have to pay the price of my choices, Juliet.
She huffs out a breath, trying to ignore the tears sliding down her cheeks. You have been there through all of my darkness. All of my baggage and trauma and pain, you held me carry every single day. The Mark is—my turn to carry your pain. I bear it with you—I will gladly bear it with you for the rest of our lives.
I love you, Draco writes, grip so forceful the letters are thicker than the rest of the conversation has been. I have to go. It's time. Don't do anything stupidly Gryffindor.
Hermione chokes back cries, grateful he can't see her face. I love you too. We all miss you. Don't let it get to you, okay Romeo? You're doing what you have to do to survive.
She watches as everything from his end disappears as he siphons his skin clean—she does the same.
She grabs extra blankets in an attempt to distract herself; lays them one on top of the other, pretends like she's not checking the skin of her forearm every five seconds.
Crawling underneath the pile, she forces herself to take several deep breaths, letting the pressure of the blankets' weight soothe her.
(A moment later, ink so black it's visible even in the dark of her room appears all at once across her skin as her soul mate's fate is decided.)
(it's only the beginning.)
A/N: chapter title from moral of the story [specifically the niall horan edition]
Next chapter will also be ~spicy~-ish, and will actually have draco (poor bby) so expect that in a few days
take care of yourselves, y'all
much love as always