Apricity - Chapter Five
Theo met Draco near the entrance arch to Hogsmeade.
"Where were you?" he asked. His hands were in his pockets and a puzzled expression was on his face. "Granger came tearing through here, and I was like, whoa, where the heck are you going? And she was like, not interested in talking to me. Did something happen?"
Yes, Draco thought. She absolutely murdered me with her words, so I lashed out and hit her harder.
"No," he said. "You ready to eat?"
"Ooh, can we go to Honeydukes first?" His eyes lit up as he looked up at Draco. "I really want sugar quills."
"Those are terrible for your teeth," Draco muttered, pushing his hair back. He felt the snow melting in the strands the moment his fingers touched them.
"Good."
They walked through the town, their footsteps quiet. It was mostly empty, as Draco would expect it to be on a weeknight at dinner.
He wasa coward, and he always had been. He had no sense of moral compass when he was younger. When he was sixteen, he possessed only a strange double-sided need to protect his mother and gain prestige with the wizard he thought was going to win. He acted out of fear—always out of fear. It wasn't until this year that he started doing the things he wanted to do, rather than the things other people thought were best for him.
The worst thing of it all was that Granger knew him based upon his poor actions, and there was nothing he could do to reverse that. Every day, he regretted fixing that cupboard. He regretted it with every ounce of wizarding blood in his body. There were so many things that would have happened differently, and it hurt to think about them all.
But he wanted to believe she hadn't cursed him. She'd told him that she hadn't, and if that were true, then what happened to him during the Summer before Fourth Year?
Why did it only feel better the one time he'd kissed her?
The boys passed the Three Broomsticks and Draco glanced at the windows. He knew Granger and the Weaselbee were probably inside. He felt a painful twist in his stomach.
There was one thing she was wrong about. He didn't pick on Granger because she was a girl. He picked on her because it was easy, and because she infuriated him. He picked on her because she always rose to the challenge. She followed a pattern: if Draco cleaned her dishes, she yelled. It was that simple.
And when she talked to him, he felt less empty.
Theo held the door open to Honeydukes, and the familiar scent of sugar and cinnamon accosted Draco's nostrils. He glanced around at the green walls and shelves, taking in the various colored sweets.
His mother always asked Draco to send her her favorite Pink Coconut Ice. Cleaning them out of her drawers the night she died was like cleaning out pieces of his heart.
"Hi, Mrs. Flume!" Theo called as he pulled his hat off, waving to the elderly shopkeep. He turned to face Draco, walking backwards again. "So, what was all that?"
"What was all what?" Draco ran his fingers along Peppermint Toad labels, pretending to read them.
"The walk down the hill," Theo said, wriggling his fingers in the air and smirking. "The distraction of one Ron Weasley. Did you ask her?"
"Ask her what?"
Theo gave him a strange look. "Draco, the whole purpose of the distraction was to find out if he was like, you know—hurting her."
Draco felt embarrassment stop his heart. He'd gotten so wrapped up in his own frustrations that he'd forgotten to ask.
In the silence, Theo studied him and then said, "D'you fancy her, then?"
"No," Draco said, his eyes flicking to meet his with cold regard. "Don't be dense."
The color drained from Theo's face and he nodded. He gathered some Cauldron Cakes into his hands. "So, we won't talk about it. We'll just ignore it."
"Ignore what?"
"The fact that you fancy her."
Draco's hand tingled. He almost reached out to smack the back of Theo's head.
"I do not fancy her," he said through clenched teeth.
"You just care about the fact that her boyfriend is a complete wanker."
Draco felt like someone was sewing his mouth shut and trying to force words out at the same time. He exhaled through his nose, struggling to contain his frustration at the situation. He didn't know why he'd inserted himself into things today. He'd never done it before.
"Weasley is a complete wanker," Draco muttered. He fingered the packaging of some other type of candy. He wasn't much of a sweets person—not anymore. "But I don't care about the fact that he's her boyfriend."
Theo added some more chocolates to his armful of candy. "But you had me pretend that we were already coming here tonight, so we could walk with them, because you don't care. Right."
Draco hmphed and followed along behind his best mate.
"Ooh, d'you remember when we got these in Fourth Year and set them off in Trelawney's tea? I have no idea why she isn't failing you on principle this year. Okay, okay, look at this. Barmy, right? Who'd eat them? I'm getting three. Draco, you've got to try these. I heard they aid with your focus for like, Quidditch and stuff . . . Salazar, I have got to get some of these."
Draco tuned him out, staring at the Pink Coconut Ice. He could almost feel himself reaching out to gather a tub. He imagined he would ask for it to be gift wrapped, as he had always done. His mother liked nice things. Witches deserved nice things, his father had always told him, and so Draco had ensured that even her candy was presented to perfection.
"I think I should tell her."
Draco's thoughts dissipated and his attention focused on Theo. "Tell who what?"
"Granger." Theo was grabbing his sugar quills, an exorbitant amount of them. "About Weasley and Katie Bell."
Draco blinked as he followed him through the store to the register. "Katie Bell? I thought it was with . . . Gregoria Thistlewait?" And Pansy and Hannah . . .
Theo's eyebrows shot up. "Okay, so he's even more of a wanker than he was before. Did you see them, or something?"
Draco shook his head. "Pansy told me in class today. Where did you see him with Bell?"
"It was last night. In the Library."
"Weasley goes to the Library?"
"For that, apparently."
The Weasel was getting his rocks off with not one, not two, but four witches at Hogwarts? Had he gone completely mental, or was he living in the clouds above the aftermath of war? Did he find some sort of rush from playing both sides of the Quidditch field? He was no Seeker, and he was a shit Chaser. Even worse as a Keeper.
Draco had the urge to tell Granger, if only to watch him fumble the Bludger and lose the game.
But what would that achieve? What would be the purpose? Draco kept asking himself that question even as he made his decision.
"Don't tell her," he said when they got to the register.
"What? No. No! We can't just sit on that information, we—"
"Theo," he said in warning. "All it's going to do is cause problems. Just stay out of it."
Theo eyed him before he turned and began to chat with Mrs. Flume. She wore her waist-length grey hair in a braid that fell over the front of one shoulder, and her dress was bright blue. She was almost as talkative as Theo, if not more so, so Draco had no need to share his own words.
He wondered to himself again whether or not he should tell Granger about the Weasel. Why should he have any interest in her life? If he told her, then it would mean that he cared.
Selfish.
"No Pink Coconut Ice this time, Mr. Malfoy?"
"Hm?" Draco looked up from the counter. His heart wrenched and his lungs constricted. "Oh . . . No, not this time."
"Shame," Mrs. Flume said, and then she offered him a beaming smile. "I ordered extra this year, just in case you decided to come back for the special Eighth Year."
Draco stared at her for a moment, wondering. Did she know that he was an ex-Death Eater? Did she know about his mother? She had to, if she read the Prophet.
Mrs. Flume's eyes twinkled. "Be sure to come back sometime soon, Mr. Malfoy. Honeydukes is always open to you, my boy."
Draco's heart clenched again and for the first time in a while, a genuine smile graced his features. He wasn't used to being treated this way—like he was just another eighteen-year-old wizard, not the person who spelled death for Professor Dumbledore. Like he mattered.
"Thank you, Mrs. Flume."
"Of course." She handed the bag to Theo after he set the galleons on the counter. "Here you are, dear."
"Thank you so much!" Theo gushed, and then he set an extra couple of knuts down for her. "Cheers!"
The two of them waved their goodbyes to the woman, and then they headed back out into the brisk, cold air. Draco bit his lower lip, trying to make sense of his swirling emotions. Grief and confusion stuck out the most of all.
"Draco," Theo said in a quiet voice, placing a hand on Draco's chest to stop him from walking forward. He looked up at him with sincerity. "It's okay if you see Hermione as a friend, or even as an acquaintance. It's okay if you like, care about what happens to her."
Draco averted his eyes. "I don't care about her."
"Circe, Draco. You're insufferable. Here."
Draco watched as Theo reached into his goodie bag and pulled something out. He held it out to Draco, whose hand turned palm-up to receive it on instinct.
"What's this for?"
"For your not-a-friend-not-an-acquaintance, Granger." Theo grinned. "If there's one thing I know, it's the sentimental side of witches."
Draco held the cauldron cake awkwardly in his hand. He didn't want to give anything to Granger, lest she think it was him trying to tell her he fancied her. Or worse: think he was acting guilty.
"Witches deserve nice things, Draco," Theo said, pulling his hood up onto the back of his head. He turned to cross the cobblestone street. Draco could almost hear his father's voice echoing in his head.
He stared at the cake. In all his years of knowing Granger—of bullying her and treating her like scum—this was the first year where he saw her as a witch. He couldn't imagine her deserving anything less than something nice.
Theo gave him a very serious look, one that Draco rarely saw on his face. "Granger deserves nice things like cauldron cakes from someone who cares what happens to her. She doesn't deserve to be pulled so hard that she falls down."
For the second time that day, someone was right.
Draco followed Theo across the street and into the Three Broomsticks. It was toasty and warm when they walked inside, and the smell of food already had Draco's stomach rumbling. He cast a casual glance around, seeing the wooden tables empty save for a table of merry wizards, a few Seventh Years he recognized from a couple of his classes drinking Butterbeer and giggling in the corner, and the Weaselbee and Granger somewhere near the center of the room.
Madam Rosmerta greeted them with a tight smile. "Mr. Nott. Mr. . . . Malfoy."
Ever since he was convicted of his crimes but sentenced to parole, any time he encountered anyone who didn't side with the Dark Lord, he got one of two reactions: forced politeness, or outright vitriol. He'd been kicked at, spat upon, had doors slammed in his face, and had been hollered at in the streets of Diagon Alley. At Hogwarts, everyone forced their politeness for fear of retribution from McGonagall since Draco wasn't the only ex-Death Eater walking the halls.
He was used to this treatment.
"Madam Rosmerta," Theo greeted. He gestured to Draco with his thumb. "May we get a table?"
She nodded, gaze lingering on Draco's neck tattoos. "Take your pick. Place is rather empty tonight. Butterbeers?"
"Firewhiskey," Draco said in a smooth voice, combing his fingers through his snow-damp hair. "For me."
"And you, Mr. Nott?"
"Uhh . . ." Theo looked at Draco and then nodded. "Yeah, I think I'll take a shot of Firewhiskey, too. Oh, and a couple of menus! I'm famished."
Theo and Draco chose a table near the door, and Draco sat down with his back to it. Theo plopped down across from him with a loud exhalation of excited breath, drumming his hands on the tabletop. Draco peered past his head.
Granger and Weasley sat on opposite sides of their table from each other. The Weaselbee was tucking into his food with zeal, and Granger was leaning forward over her plate with her elbows on the table, picking at her burger without talking.
What an unfortunate couple.
"You are so buying me whatever I want."
Draco tore his gaze away from the other table and then looked at Theo. "You got Honeydukes, so this trip was mutually beneficial. A free meal was never agreed upon."
Theo pouted. "Okay, stingy. Then you can buy it for me because we're mates."
Draco rolled his eyes but couldn't stop himself from letting his lips twitch. "Fine. But you've got to tell me who you're seeing."
Theo shot him a look. "I'm not seeing anyone."
Madam Rosmerta came to give them their drinks and menus, and Draco took his shot almost immediately. The liquid burned in his throat and settled into the pit of his abdomen.
"You must be. You've been way to interested in whatever flame you think I'm holding for Granger. So, if you're not talking, I'm not paying."
"So who's paying, then?" Theo pulled a disgruntled face after he sipped some of his shot. "Yuck, I hate this."
"If you want it to be me, then tell me who you're trying to keep me from finding out about." Draco snatched the shot glass from him and knocked it back. "And if you hate it, then why did you order it?"
"I just wanted to be like you, big brother."
"Come off it."
Draco picked up his menu and Theo followed suit. As they perused the options, he looked up and across the room at Granger again. She was walking toward the bathroom, and her plate was empty. Weaselbee's plate was empty, too, but Draco wasn't surprised about that.
He was surprised that she had gone from a full plate of food to an empty one in less than five minutes. He almost regretted not seeing her chomping down on that gargantuan hamburger.
Weasley was sitting back in his chair with his fingers laced behind his shaggy-haired head, and his face was turned towards the Seventh Year witches in the corner. Their giggling had increased, and one was clearly looking right back at him.
Draco narrowed his eyes.
Gregoria Thistlewait.
As if on cue, Weasley leaned forward to fold his arms on the table, sending Thistlewait a look that only promised debauchery.
Draco snorted. Granger could return from the bathroom any moment, and Weasley was ogling the witch he was fucking on the side openly at their dinner table?
She could do better than that.
Theo began chattering on about the different food choices, how he'd tried them all, and his favorite things about each one. Then, while Draco was still watching, Weasley turned his head and looked around. His gaze settled on Draco's and a silent tension grew.
Draco arched one eyebrow, sending a pointed look towards the bathroom hallway, where Granger had disappeared into. Weasley's response, however, was not what Draco expected.
He smirked.
So the Red Weasel knew what he was doing. He knew he was a prat, and he didn't care. Weasley cared so little for Granger's feelings that he was content toeing the line, flirting with another witch while his girlfriend was in the bathroom.
Was it because he loved the feeling of getting away with it? Or was it because he thought he was so much better than Granger that she deserved to be lied to?
Something about that bothered Draco. She was Hermione Granger. He didn't know what type of wizard she deserved, but it certainly wasn't a cheating arsehole like Weasley.
That was fucked up.
Draco set his menu down and contemplated getting up from the table. He may not have been able to pull his wand without violating his parole, but he could throw his fist. The Weaselbee was huge in muscle, but what Draco lacked in musculature, he made up for in speed. He'd be able to punch the Weasel right in the center of the—
"I'm getting a damn burger," Theo scowled, slamming his menu down. The sound jolted Draco, drawing his gaze.
"Yeah?" Draco folded his menu shut. "I will, too."
"I'm so sick of the food at school," Theo grumbled. "I mean, it's good, but it's not like, a burger, yeah? Madam Rosmerta!"
Once their food had been ordered—with another wary expression from Madam Rosmerta sent in Draco's direction, clearly showing discomfort with the tattoos—Draco settled back into his seat with his hands in his lap. Theo began to rant about Professor Werrin again, finishing the tale he'd been trying to tell on the hill.
Draco's gaze lifted when Granger walked back from the bathroom. She had a bit of a dreamy expression on her face, almost like the one Luna Lovegood wore daily. Her skirt waved about her thighs, adding to her altogether lofty disposition.
Suddenly, she held the heel of her palm against the left side of her forehead. She took another couple of steps and then—
Bam!
She ran into a table, causing its legs to scrape against the floor. Staggering forward with a loud gasp that could be heard across the dining area, she clutched a hand to her thigh. She winced, limping back to the table. The Weaselbee said something to her, but otherwise made no other movements.
Draco felt his body tense. He almost wanted to . . . Go over there.
When Theo turned back around, he looked irritated.
"I don't know what she sees in him."
Draco started to speak, but Madam Rosmerta came by with their plates hovering in the air at the tip of her wand. She gave Draco another strained smile, refilled their glasses, and then was gone.
"I think he won her by default," Draco said, picking up his burger and taking a bite. "You fancy her, or something? Is that why you're not seeing anyone?"
"What? What?" A large amount of tomato and ketchup fell from Theo's burger as the shorter boy glared at him. "No. No! Stop."
Draco laughed, watching as Theo withdrew his wand and vanished the mess. He glanced over at Granger's table as Madam Rosmerta walked over to it, setting an ice cream sundae the size of his hand in front of her. He watched as she tucked into it, her leg shaking under the table as though she'd rather be anywhere but there. Weasley shifted in his seat in impatience, drumming his fingers on top of the table.
"Tell me what the Hell is going on," Theo said.
Draco blinked. "What?"
"This whole situation is like, so, so, so bizarre. You've done nothing but bicker and row with Granger all year, and now we're walking down the hill to Hogsmeade together, so you can watch her on her date with Weasley? There's an obvious dynamic, or whatever. So, what happened?"
Draco opened his mouth to speak, hesitating.
Behind Theo, Granger raised her hand to signal Madam Rosmerta, pointing at the menu and ordering something else. She smiled at the elder witch, and when she lowered her eyes back down, they caught Draco's and held his gaze. She was still smiling.
His heart skipped a beat.
When he looked at Theo again, his friend had his arms crossed over his chest. "Okay, you're telling me what's happened. Like, now. Right now."
Draco took another bite of his food, focused on his chips as he searched his mind for an answer to give him. He didn't want to just tell him that he'd been dreaming about Granger for five years, especially since she'd said she hadn't cursed him.
He didn't know why the dreams were happening, and it was killing him.
"Nothing's happened," Draco said. He took another bite.
Theo held his burger with both hands. "You're lying."
"I'm not lying."
He took a bite of his own, nodding to himself. "Yep. You're lying."
"I'm not lying."
"You're lying, but I'll let it slide. For now. But next time you need me to go with you to Hogsmeade to cover for you?" He pointed at him with one finger, still holding his burger. "It's gonna cost you."
"Oh, it's gonna cost me?" Draco drawled, setting his own burger down. He wanted to steer the conversation away from Granger. "Yeah, all right. I'm guessing it's gonna cost me this time, too."
"Yup."
They finished their meals in relative silence, Draco unable to stop himself from sneaking glances over at Granger's table. She was already almost done with her sundae, which was a miracle, since Draco still had half of his burger left. He couldn't believe she'd ordered food three times already.
Anyone with a pair of eyes could see that Weasley continued to look at the corner table where the lovely Gregoria was batting her eyelashes at him. It was sickening, if only because it was Weasley, and—Circe, could Granger pack it down. She didn't even seem to be getting a freeze in her brain.
"Have you heard back from your contact at the Ministry?" Theo asked. He'd finished his burger and was now dipping his chips into ketchup on his plate.
"Yes," Draco said, now watching Gregoria's reactions. "He's going to ask around, see if anyone is willing to take on an intern."
"Are you excited?"
"Excited?" Draco ate a chip, the taste of potato feeling muted on his tongue. "Of course I am, and hopeful. But things are different now, and the Malfoy name is a curse and not a key. There's a chance that nothing will come of it."
"Have you thought about what would happen—like, what you would do if no one wanted to take you on?"
Draco shrugged his shoulders and looked down at his plate. He ate another chip. "No."
Theo was quiet. Then, "Draco, you can't seriously be this uncaring about your future. How does it make you feel?"
It terrified him.
"I feel fine."
Theo sighed, finishing the last bite. "Well, I'm done. I'll get Madam Rosmerta."
As they were getting their galleons out, Granger and Weasley both got up to leave. Granger held up a finger and then started toward the bathroom again.
"I'll just use the loo quickly," she called. "Before we go back."
Weasley sent her a sour look when she wasn't looking. "All right, but hurry. I need to get back to my room. I'll wait outside."
He left the restaurant just as the Seventh Year girls did, the Weasel holding the door open for them. They walked by him, giggling, and then he touched Gregoria's lower back through her coat. Draco nearly burst out laughing.
Weaselbee was a Gryffindor, all right, because that was brave.
Draco and Theo paid their tab and then got up, leaving out the door into the night. He saw the Seventh Year girls walking into Tomes and Scrolls across the street, the streetlight illuminating their bodies.
He frowned.
In the restaurant, there'd been five of them, but now, he only saw four.
Where was Gregoria Thistlewait?
"Hurry. You've got to hurry, Ria!"
Draco stopped when he heard the voices in the darkness, causing Theo to stumble against his back.
"Quickly, qui—ah . . ."
Draco glanced behind himself and held up a finger for silence to Theo, whose face took on a rare serious expression. Together, the two of them crept down the sidewalk in front of the restaurant, Draco's back to the corner and his arm holding Theo back. They looked down the alleyway.
There was Weasley, his back to the wooden wall of the Three Broomsticks. Gregoria Thistlewait was on her knees before him, and she was doing something that one would have to be blind not to comprehend.
Granger was in the bathroom inside the restaurant, and Weasley was in the alley outside of it with another bird on her knees before him?
Draco now knew for certain that Granger was giving the Weaselbee absolutely nothing. He would not be surprised if they rarely snogged. He also knew for certain that he pitied Granger.
"What the fuck?" Draco whispered, and he looked down at Theo with wide, troubled eyes.
"That's it." Theo's face had darkened. "I'm telling her."
Draco felt unease twisting its way through his body. Something akin to panic. Fear. The fear of something that didn't quite make sense.
"You're not telling her, Theo."
"Draco, it would hurt her—"
"It's going to hurt her worse to know," Draco growled in a low tone. "Let her live in bliss."
"I need to—"
"No."
"But we can't just—"
"No." Draco shook his head. "Listen to me, Theo. No."
Without a second thought, Draco whipped out his wand and cast a silent Disillusionment spell on Weasley and his rather enthusiastic companion. The last thing Granger needed to see—the last thing anyone needed to see—was that. He wasn't her friend. He wasn't her acquaintance. But he wasn't interested in living a life of cruelty anymore.
'Sometimes, it's better to shield from pain than to draw attention to it. Even though the wound still bleeds, it's better to die in peaceful ignorance than in shameful agony. Some things are better left in the shadows, my dragon.'
"We'll wait for her by the gate," Draco said, shaking off the despair that tried to wrap itself around him at the memory of his mother's words. "And we'll tell her he left without her. We don't need to tell her because someone else likely will; he's not exactly subtle. Come."
He started to walk and Theo followed, but remained silent. Draco knew he was angry, but he didn't care. This time, Draco was the one who was right. If Granger found out that Weasley was this careless with her heart, she'd be devastated. Draco had caused her enough pain. He didn't want to cause her more.
As they made their way underneath the streetlights, Theo broke.
"You're so bloody infuriating, Draco."
Draco bristled but didn't turn around. "Why's that?"
"I know why you don't want me to tell her."
"Oh, do presume to read my mind, mate."
"You just don't want me to tell her because you're afraid of what will happen when she's looking for someone to pick up the pieces," he hissed, following Draco down the sidewalk, towards the town entrance. "You're afraid that she'll come looking for you, and then you won't be able to stop yourself from doing what you do with every witch. Sweeping them off their brooms and then dropping them to the ground. You're afraid you'll be worse than Weasley."
Draco saw red. He whipped around, gripped the fabric of Theo's coat, and slammed him up against the wall. He understood that it was Theo, that it was his best friend, but the storm inside of him was filling him to the brim. It was telling him that everything was going to fall apart and he was livid.
"Shut up," he snarled. "Shut the fuck up, Theo. You don't know anything. You don't know a damn thing."
Theo glared back at him, his eyes full of unshed angry tears.
Draco backed away, turning to continue on, but Theo ran ahead of him and whirled to face him, holding his forefingers up.
"Tell me the truth, then. Why are you so invested in Granger and Weasley? Why do you care how she finds out?"
"I don't—"
"You do, or else you would let me tell her!"
"Why do you want to know?! Why can't you just . . ." Draco gasped, his lungs squeezing. "Just leave it alone!"
"Because I'm tired of you acting like you don't feel anything!"
Draco knew he cared, but he didn't want to think about anything. He didn't want to have to face the fact that he'd shut himself down against anything and everything. Granger reminded him of his mother in so many ways.
He just couldn't pinpoint why.
"Why, Draco?!"
Draco's panic exploded like a confringo spell within him.
"Because I feel guilty, all right? I feel fucking guilty for how badly I treated her when we were younger. I feel bad for tearing her down, because she wouldn't be with that tosser if it weren't for me making her think she was worthless. If I . . ." He trailed off, overcome. "She's with him because I made all the wrong choices. I don't know why I feel that way. I just know that I fucking do."
"So, what? You're saying she would . . ." Theo's brow furrowed. "She would be with you?"
A flash of his father's sneering face crossed his mind.
The Summer of First Year.
The night his father discovered who the Granger family was.
"And I suppose you thought you could hide it from me, didn't you? You thought I wouldn't look into it and find out?"
Theo's facial expression softened. "Draco, you can't possibly be the reason why. It's his fault. He's the one who's hurting her. It's not your fault."
"It is my fault!" Draco shouted. "Maybe not directly, but my actions when we were kids were my own. If I hadn't—maybe if things had been different—"
"If you live that way, you'll never be satisfied. We all wish things would have been different. That the Dark Lord had never returned. That the war had never happened. We all wish we could go back and do things a different way."
"It's not the same." Draco hissed out his words, his eyes flashing with caged ire.
"We need to tell her," Theo said, sounding desperate.
"It's not our business that the Weasel's cheating on her," Draco said, running a furious hand through his tousled hair. He glared through Theo, rather than at him. "But I plan to make it my business what happens after she does find out."
Theo started to speak, but his eyes widened at a point somewhere behind Draco's shoulder.
Granger stood behind him, a few meters back, and she was alone. The corners of her lips turned downward as her brows met in the middle. There were tears on her cheeks, but they didn't look fresh. She looked devastated, like her entire world was crumbling out from beneath her feet, which she swayed upon as though the revelation of her wizard's betrayal was enough to topple her. When she spoke, her voice came out as a whisper that seemed loud against the backdrop of the snow-covered ground.
"I thought Ron left. I thought he left me here, so I came to look for you two, and . . . Ron's cheating on me?"
