She squeezed the pillow tight to her chest, staring into the green flames of the fire in the Slytherin common room. Draco sat in the high-backed chair beside the sofa she'd claimed. She had hardly said anything since she'd walked in and it was beginning to make him nervous. It wouldn't be beyond his expectations for her to still be shaken up over the Cruciatus Curse incident earlier that day – or the previous day it would be, then. But this seemed a little off.

"You talked to him, didn't you?" He prompted, looking at Rem, who seemed to snap back to reality at his voice.

She glanced at him, then back at the fire. "Yes." She replied. "I couldn't just- not. I-" She started quietly.

"I understand, Remington." He said, still eyeing her. "And?"

She shrugged and exhaled heavily. "He said it was okay."

"But it's still bothering you."

She set her jaw and turned her gaze on him. There was a short pause before she spoke up, "Of course it's still bothering me!" She said sharply. "He would never have done that, Draco! He would never have cast the Cruciatus curse on me! And I did it to him! I-"

"You're in different positions-" He began, his voice lower than hers. It probably wouldn't be best if someone overheard their conversation.

"Different-" She began, "We are friends, Draco! Good friends! And I tortured him! Just because some evil soul-sucking hag told me to! How-" Her voice cracked in a mixture of anger and disgust.

"Calm down, Rem-" He started to say. It wasn't hard for him to realize that she wasn't paying any attention to her volume, at this point she was too distraught to care. She'd been trying to force it down all day, and now it was resurfacing with all that built up momentum.

"Calm-" She began incredulously, "Calm down?" She stood up in pained frustration and swept past him, towards the tunnel entrance. She wasn't sure where she was meaning to go, but she needed to go somewhere, or do something-

He got up to follow her, snatching her wrist to stop her. She pulled her hand from his grasp, but turned to look at him, crossing her arms, looking at him reluctantly, her eyebrows were furrowed and her forehead creased. She was clearly deep in thought. "Look, Rem-" He began, but she shook her head.

Her arms relaxed in front of her and she looked torn, almost like she was in pain. "I don't think I can do this, Draco." She said quietly. Her stomach dropped as she thought more about it, but she couldn't stand the idea of this charade. Doing all of these things against her own nature, fighting against everything she believed in. Because she loved him. She wanted to protect him. But what if he didn't need to be tied to her actions anymore?

Draco looked at the conflicted expression on her face for a moment or two, then his eyes trailed down to her fidgeting hands, where he realized she was playing with the engagement ring. That's what she meant, he realized with a jolt of anxious panic. "You can't take that one back, Remington." He said. But the threads of dismay were already clutching at him. It was too late. If he knew just one thing about Remington for certain, it was that she was unbending.

"You said after the war, Draco," She said under her breath, pained but decidedly, "It's still the middle of it."

"I am not taking that ring back." He pressed, giving her an almost harsh look, though his chest felt as though it might cave in. She couldn't be serious. Now? So close to the end of their final year at Hogwarts?

She looked down at her hands, pulling the engagement ring off her finger and looking at it. "It'd only be for a while." She whispered. Of course she'd come back. She just couldn't handle the expectations that came hand in hand with being engaged to the heir of the Malfoy line – the demands of a dark regime that that family had ensnared themselves in. She felt like a pawn on the wrong side of the chess table.

"No, Remington," He said determinedly, with finality, but as he watched her, he very well knew that she was beyond the point of listening to him. He was stuck in between anger and some sort of undignified desperation. He wanted to convince her that this was stupid, that there was no reason that she should give the ring back, no reason at all. But the offended and self-serving part of his mind warred against that desire, telling him that he was stupid. How could he ever believe that this could work? Why on Earth did he – even for a second – think that it was a good idea to let her in, to fall for this blood traitor? He wanted to punch something.

"I can't handle this giant lie anymore. I can't do both." She said, looking up at him, "I don't know what to do." She knew what her mother would want her to do. Of course her mother would want her to keep up this act, like she'd been convinced to give up the good fight. Like she was some weak, selfish idiot who took the easy path and threw away everything she'd worked for. Everything she believed in. Everyone she cared about, just for this boy. Sure, it was more complicated than that and she loved Draco, but in reality, that was more or less what she was pretending to do. Was she even really pretending anymore, though? She wanted to think her beliefs hadn't changed, but what had she done less than a day prior? She'd tortured someone who she was close to, someone she had fought beside once, in order to appease Draco and those who threatened him. She was no longer doing things for herself or making her own decisions. She was only following orders.

Draco had opened his mouth to say something, but the words never came. Remington thrust her hand out, the ring between her fingers. Her heart ached. No, she didn't want to do this, but she felt like she had to at this point. She'd let things go too far. She felt regret grasp her tightly as she watched Draco's walls go up, closing off every detail of his eyes, face, posture that she may have used to read him. She was reminded suddenly of how good of an Occlumens he was, with how thoroughly, easily, and quickly his guards went up.

"It belongs to you." He said tersely before turning and walking towards the stairs to the boy's dormitory without looking back at her.