CHAPTER 13: Damage Control

Disclaimer: I do not own anything belonging to JK Rowling or the world of Harry Potter.

…

Draco doesn't give me an answer by the time Monday is over.

Or Tuesday.

Or Wednesday.

So, when Thursday rolls around, I am understandably frustrated and a little bit anxious. Was I too forward? Too stupid to let my cover slip like I did? Have I made the wrong decision altogether by proposing allyship? Should I just kill him and be done with it all?

It did feel good at the time be in control again, however brief it lasted, but now the feeling has worn off and I can't stop the doubt from crawling in. From occupying too much time in my brain and causing me to second-guess myself.

It's currently after dinnertime, and Daphne and I are tucked away in a small alcove in the library getting ahead on homework (I think she has a touch of Ravenclaw in her too). It's quiet in our corner, save for the occasional scratch of a quill against parchment or the gentle turn of a page, and the candles above us are starting to burn low in their candelabra.

It feels peaceful. A nice contrast to my constant inner battle.

That is, until Daphne shatters the silence.

"So, Arachne, what's going on between you and Draco?"

"What?" I look over at her and shrug in nonchalance. "Nothing."

She smiles a knowing smile and the gleam in her eyes is cat-like. "Well, something happened between the two of you on the night of the Christmas party. I didn't miss or forget that odd exchange the next morning, however much you were hoping I would."

Ah, shit. I completely forgot about that amongst everything else, and now that she's mentioned it I kind of was hoping that she'd forgotten about it too.

"Great," I intone and look back at my homework.

"Care to explain?" She raises her eyebrows.

"Not particularly."

"Let me tell you, then, what I think."

I start, "Let's not, shall we?"

"I think that there's always been some tension between you two, ever since that first morning in the Great Hall, way back in September. And all term that tension has been platonic, unreadable, but since the night of the party it's changed. It's now-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence."

"-sexual."

The staccato click of Madame Pince's heels against the stone floor approaches our nook, and Daphne and I simply stare at each other in silence for a few minutes, assessing. Waiting. When the sound moves away again, Daphne whispers, "Did you sleep with him?"

I choke on my own spit.

"No," I say firmly through my coughs.

She taps a perfectly manicured nail against the tabletop. "You know, I believe you, actually."

Still coughing, I reply, "Gee, thanks."

"Have you slept with anyone?"

My choking subsides and I frown at the sudden change in topic. "You mean… ever?"

"Yes."

"You know, curiosity killed the cat, Grass," I bite out, still thrown by her assumption that I slept with Draco.

And then thrown by the fact that I can't seem to get the image of him naked out of my head – of me being naked with him – and subsequently realising that I don't want to get rid of that image, that I actually quite like-

Merlin, I need to stop.

"I suppose that was a bit personal. You don't have to answer," Daphne replies, averting her gaze to her parchment.

I sigh, a modicum of guilt slouching on my shoulders at my harsh response, and say, "No, I'm sorry – I do."

Daphne sends me a questioning look.

"We're f-friends," I explain, still not used to the word. "And friends should know this stuff about each other, right?"

Also, I've never had anyone to have this type of conversation with and it would actually be really nice to talk about it.

Not that I'd ever admit that aloud.

"Generally speaking, yes." Daphne nods.

"Then it's settled." I smile reassuringly. "To answer your question: yes, I have had sex with someone before. Once. A Spanish boy on holiday."

The truth. If you replace 'holiday' with 'mission'.

She smiles suggestively. "Very exotic."

"Indeed. Yourself?"

Daphne's smile wanes and she shifts in her seat uncomfortably, replying, "No, I haven't. Not yet. The magical world can be a small place and I haven't met anyone I like enough yet."

I reach out and grab her hand atop the table. "You don't need to justify it to me, Daph. Or anyone, for that matter. There's a lot more to life than sex, you know."

"I know. It's just- it feels like I'm being left behind while everyone else is..." She gestures her head to the side.

I squeeze her hand reassuringly.

She goes on, "And Pansy – while I love her to pieces – she thinks it hilarious that I'm waiting for someone special, rather than just getting it over and done with."

I scoff. "It doesn't matter what Pansy thinks. Hell, it doesn't bloody matter what I think. You just need to do what's right for you, at the end of the day. You're the one who's got to live your life, nobody else."

"Thank you, Arachne, truly."

"We're friends, Daph." I hold her gaze, trying to convey my sincerity with my eyes. "It's what I'm here for. And no matter what happens, I've got your back, I hope you know that?"

I squeeze her hand once more before retracting it.

Daphne nods, "I do," then sighs loudly and looks back at her work, adding, "I'm sure I'll find someone soon, anyway."

"No!" I exclaim, and then lower my voice, "Sorry. But that's the wrong mentality – you need to figure yourself out first before you can deal with anyone else in your life."

I mentally roll my eyes at my advice, since I don't seem to be taking it myself in terms of a certain blond at the moment.

It's definitely the amortentia's work.

Checking the time on my watch, we have a little while longer until the library closes for the night, and I look back at my homework.

"All right." Daphne beams for a second before her expression turns wicked again, "But don't think you're getting out of my original question; what happened between you and Draco before Christmas?"

No matter how much I want to, I can't stop the small smirk that rises to my face. "We almost kissed."

"Almost?"

"Theo found us and it kind of ruined the moment."

"Hold on," she holds up a hand. "So, Theo knew, yet you didn't tell me or Pansy about it?!"

"I haven't had the chance!"

She narrows her eyes at me, hissing, "Don't give me that bullshit, you've had plenty of chances."

I gasp. "Did you just swear, Miss Greengrass?"

"Don't try to change the subject."

Rolling my eyes, I respond, "Well, Pansy has a big mouth, and she told me she saw something between us and I knew she'd get smug about it if I told her. And I intended on telling you, I really did."

Daphne sighs in exasperation, but there's still a small smile on her face. "Either way, I'm happy for you."

I frown slightly.

Daphne adds, "Wait, we are happy about it, right?"

"I don't know," I say with complete and utter honesty before levelling her with a look. "At the time, it felt right, but now I just feel so conflicted about it. And he seems to feel the same – that's probably the tension you were on about earlier."

"Mm," she agrees, absently picking up her quill and doodling on a piece of spare parchment. "Are you going to address it with him?"

"I already did. On Monday. I've been awaiting his response since."

Daphne sends me a sympathetic look, surveying me for a minute before talking, "It'll work out. I know it."

"We'll see," I say half-heartedly, worried that it actually will work out. Because, even though I've all but mentally cast my parents aside, there's absolutely no way I'm going to tell them that hey, that really dangerous target I'm supposed to kill? You know, the one who's supposedly trying to assassinate Dumbledore? Well, I'm now allies with him, potentially also romantically involved, and he doesn't seem that dangerous to me. If anything, he's incredibly witty, and funny, and good-looking to boot…

And the only other option would be to lie to them, something I'm still not sure I can bring myself to do.

I'm broken out of my reverie by Daphne starting to pack up her belongings, our conversation taking more time than expected. "In other news, Spider Girl, are you going to the quidditch game on Saturday?"

"I should imagine so. Who's playing again?" I follow suit and pile up all the textbooks to be handed back in to Madame Pince.

"Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw."

"That should be a close one. From what I've heard, Ravenclaw have a pretty decent team this year."

"Yes, I've heard that too."

She shoulders her bag and I do the same, and we leave the library via the front desk to drop off our borrowed books silently.

Just as we've shut the heaven wooden door behind us, Daphne turns to me and adds, "Also, if you are coming to the game, I'm not sure if you've heard but Pansy has come up with this awfully childish song you should learn. She's probably teaching it to a group of innocent first-years as we speak."

I raise an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Oh yes," she nods. "'Weasley is our king' or something along those lines. It's about the Gryffindor keeper, of course."

"Of course." I laugh, very much aware of Weasley's poor performance in front of the goal hoops. He shouldn't have made the team – and wouldn't have under normal circumstances – but I suppose being friends with the Chosen One has its perks.

Daphne laughs along with me and we make our way back to the dungeons, chatting breezily along the way. After our small heart-to-heart in the library, I feel much more at ease around her, finding it increasingly less difficult to call her my friend in my mind, and I sincerely hope that Draco decides to be allies and that I don't have to kill him.

Because I really don't want to hurt Daphne.

Is this what caring about someonefeels like?

And this waiting around for an answer in the first place doesn't help – because the longer he stalls, the closer I'm going to get to the group, and the harder it'll be to complete my mission should he decide to be enemies.

Maybe, then, I should impose a deadline of sorts?

Yes, that would work. I'll give him until the quidditch game on Saturday – the day after tomorrow. That should suffice. He'll have had almost six days to think on it by then, plenty of time in my opinion. And if he doesn't give me an answer?

I'm sure students have been jostled a bit too harshly and fallen off the stands accidentally before.

If Draco is playing some sort of game by not answering, then it has to be done. This situation doesn't affect just me and him – the entire wizarding world is potentially hanging on our decision – and it's getting all too easy to forget that.

Besides, I'm tired of playing games.

…

The next evening, I find myself walking to the owlery to send a letter to my parents.

I know, I know, I'm shocked too – I mean, wasn't it only yesterday I said I couldn't bring myself to lie to them?

Well, it turns out I can.

And I have.

I wrote the letter during a free period earlier in the day. Damage control, you see. Because, allies or enemies, something is about to happen between Draco and I, and the last thing I need is my parents posting over another howler. I don't think I can take the pressure.

In the correspondence, I acknowledge their apology from before Christmas and tell them I've made a couple of small breakthroughs, though the mission feels far from complete as my target is getting suspicious of me, and that communication should stay at a minimum. A plausible letter, if I do say so myself. Specific enough yet vague enough. A lie without being a lie.

I do feel slightly worried, though. As if I'll get caught out.

Throughout my entire life, I have lied. It's what I've been trained to do. But no matter how deep my cover has gone, I've always been honest with my parents. Given, I sometimes omit details, but I've never deliberately fed them false information.

Until now.

As I avoid a trick step between the third and fourth floor, I reason with myself. I still haven't received an answer from Draco and, despite it making me feel antsy, I am a little glad since it's bought me some time to plan my next steps. Technically speaking, I'm not lying to my parents if Draco comes back to me and says he wants to be enemies. Then, at least, I know that however much I'm prepared to compromise myself for him, that level of willingness is one-sided in its depth, and killing him is the best course of action.

Because I'll be damned if I'm risking everything I've worked towards my entire life for someone who won't do the same.

On the other hand, it's if he doesn't want to be enemies is where things could potentially get tricky. Because then I will be lying to my parents. But I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. At the moment, I have no inclination as to what he will say to me, if he talks to me at all, so right now all I can do is prepare for the worst.

Thus: damage control.

I let out a sigh and am rounding a corner on the fifth floor when I see Theo heading in my direction with a silly grin on his face.

"You lookdisgustingly happy, Nott," I call out, and it's only then he notices my presence.

"Arachne!" he calls back cheerily. "What brings you up here?"

"Owlery." I wave the letter clutched in my hand. "Care to join me?"

Theo nods enthusiastically. "You know what, I think I just might."

He pivots on his heel and we carry on walking for a minute before I ask, "So, what's got you looking like the Cheshire Cat?"

"What?" He makes a face.

"Oh right," I shake my head a little, "muggle thing. I mean, what's got you smiling so much that I'm surprised your face isn't hurting?"

Theo laughs and slings an arm over my shoulder. "Can you keep a secret, Spider Girl?"

"Always."

"Well," Theo sighs dreamily, "my mystery lover told me he loves me."

My jaw drops in surprise and I stop dead in my tracks. "Theo!"

"That's my name!"

"I'm so happy for you!"

I step forward and sling my arms around him – again, much like with Lavender all those weeks ago, it's an action that I'm not aware I'm doing until he's in my grip. Theo reciprocates with a brotherly affection, arms around my shoulders. He pats my back a couple of times then lets go and ruffles my hair with one hand.

I reach my own free hand up and attempt to smooth it down. "I don't care how happy I am for you, Nott, that's crossing a line."

He chuckles and we resume walking towards our destination. I pepper Theo with questions the entire way there, but he doesn't give anything else away apart from that he told his mystery lover that he loves him back, and by the time we reach the owlery I find I'm grinning idiotically along with him, unable to help it.

As we cross the threshold, I let my eyes sweep over the available owls and choose the least assuming one before making my way over to it and tying my letter to its leg, a ghost of a smile still on my face the whole time.

"So, I know this person is male and he's in Gryffindor, and I know you promised him you wouldn't tell anyone about you two," I glance up Theo, who's leaning against one of the curved walls of the tower with crossed arms and an amused expression. "But if I guess at who it is, you could give me 'yes' or 'no' answers and still be honouring your promise."

I finish tying off the letter and give the owl a treat from my pocket. It nips at my finger and hoots once before taking off into the cold January night, tawny wings fading into the darkness.

"Hypothetically, you could," Theo replies.

I turn back and face him. "Hypothetically?"

He pushes himself upright and holds the owlery door open for me. "Yes. I could do that and still be honouring my promise. But I won't."

"But Theo…" I pout at him as I duck past him out of the entryway and he lets the door swing shut behind us.

We start down the first of many staircases back to the dungeons, and Theo sighs, saying "It's not that I don't want to tell you, Arachne – I really, really do. And under normal circumstances I would, even if it broke my promise slightly."

He pauses, and when he doesn't add anything else, I scramble to fill the silence, "Look, I'm sorry, Theo, I know I shouldn't pry-"

"Stop it." He shakes his head at me. "I want you to pry, Arachne, you're like a sister to me. It's just-"

He looks around us before leaning into me as we walk and continuing in a lower tone, "It's dangerous. If word gets out that him and I are together, we're fucked. Both of us. And it won't be just us two in trouble either. Do you think the rest of the Slytherins and their Death Eater parents are going to think you and the rest our friends are loyal to the Dark Lord if they find out I've been fraternizing with the enemy?"

Theo looks at me, chocolate eyes ablaze, and as much as I want to feel ecstatic that he thinks of me as a sister, I can't because I realize what he's doing.

He's sacrificing his own happiness to protect us. To protect me.

Damage control.

Tears threaten to well up behind my eyes and I push them down, instead grabbing Theo's hand in encouragement as he carries on talking, "You've surely figured out by now that our group – we're not the blood purists everyone thinks we are. We don't want this, this war, and I know you don't want it either. But our parents do, have been gunning for it since the First Wizarding War, and have been using us younger generation for their own gain since we started Hogwarts."

He runs his free hand down his face. "Being here is Hell, Arachne. We're hated and ostracized by the rest of the school – and the worst part of it? We brought it on ourselves because our parents told us to, because if we didn't listen to them…" he trails off, eyes glazing at some distant memory I can all too easily imagine, especially with Draco's face and Pansy's words still fresh in my mind. "But at least we have each other. If our elders get even an inkling of an impression that we're not dedicated to the Dark Lord, the first thing they'd do would be to separate us, isolate us – from each other and from everyone else; either by homeschooling or sending us to different countries. And while being here is stiflingly awful, being apart would be infinitely worse."

By now, we've reached the top of the Marble Staircase, and we come to a stop a few paces away from it.

"I'm so sorry you've all had to go through this, Theo. I really am." I squeeze his hand.

"Thank you," he levels me with a gaze, "and don't think we haven't noticed that you're like us too. You pretend like you're normal and happy when there's people around, but we see the expression on your face when you think nobody's looking. You look haunted. Troubled. I don't know what you're going through, but you know that you have us now, right?"

My eyes well up with tears again, sharp and sudden and unexpected, and I let a couple fall down my cheeks.

"Fucking hell, Nott, look what you've done," I complain weakly, gesturing to my face.

He pulls me in for another hug and I let him, and we stand there in silence for a few minutes before footsteps echo our way down the corridor.

Theo steps back and holds me at arms' length, eyes boring into mine. "No one can know about any of this."

"No shit," I drawl and wipe away my tears, squaring my shoulders and plastering a bored expression on my face. "How do I look?"

"Like a Slytherin." He smirks proudly, and we head down to the common room.

…

I wake up the next day to an unusually quiet dormitory, and in the process of blinking away the haziness of sleep, I realize the room is empty.

Fuck.

Checking my watch only confirms the suspicion that I did, indeed, oversleep, and I tear my way around the bathroom before upending my trunk in search of appropriate clothing. I settle on a long sleeve top and a pair of jeans then grab my coat and dash out of the room.

I'm the last one out of our group to make it to the Great Hall for breakfast, where everyone else has almost finished their food (including Draco, which is a surprise as he's been continuing his pattern of absenteeism since my ambush on Monday).

I throw myself down onto the bench next to Daphne in a huff. "Thanks for waking me up, guys, really appreciate it."

Theo chuckles and Daphne looks on with amusement dancing across her features, but I continue, "And you, Pansy. You woke me up for the last quidditch game. Is that just a one-time thing for the newbie, is it?"

I glance quickly around the table while grabbing a couple of slices of toast. Draco is sat next to Blaise and the two of them are whispering fiercely, mouths half-shielded by Blaise's Daily Prophet, and I can't make out what they're saying.

What would they be talking about that's so serious?

I mean, it's pretty evident that Blaise must know more about what Draco is up to than the rest of the group, but surely Draco hasn't told him about the proposition I made, has he? Because something tells me that Blaise won't like the idea of us being allies.

I mentally shake my head and butter my toast while Pansy defends herself, "You looked so peaceful, Spider Girl! We wouldn't want to wake Sleeping Beauty, now, would we?"

I snort to cover my slight shock at the muggle reference. After the heart-to-heart Theo and I had yesterday, I really shouldn't be surprised.

Yet it seems as though I always am.

People start rising to head to the quidditch pitch and I search for some tissue to wrap my toast in so I can eat it on the go. But just as I'm rifling through my pockets, I realise that in my haste to get out of the dorm, I forgot to snag a weapon in case things go south.

Nothing is ever simple, is it?

With a sigh, I abandon the toast on my plate and make up some excuse about leaving my wand in the dorm, before rising from the table to make my way down there. The others simply nod, and Pansy says she'll save me a seat in the stands.

I practically run back down to the dorm and grab the first weapon I can find – which happens to be Genevieve as I used her on Monday – and tuck it into the pocket of my jeans before going straight to the quidditch pitch in the same manner. I jog up the several flights of stairs that lead up to the stands, almost breaking a sweat, and emerge into the weak January sun and start scouring the many faces already up there for Pansy.

She's sat in the front row and waves me over enthusiastically when she spots me. I make my way through the hordes of Slytherins, and as I get closer I see that Theo, Blaise, and Daphne are in the row behind her, leaving Draco sat next to her in the front row with the only available seat next to him.

Of course, this would happen to me.

Dread trickles down my spine slowly as I contemplate leaving, but the entire group has seen me now and I can't think of a viable excuse.

So, with a steadying breath, I make my way over there.

I can do this. I have to.