Mad-Eye had apparently taken a keen interest in the arrival of Draco Malfoy. As he explained the architecture and grounds of the castle with the help of a finely dressed woman name Minerva, he began to present options to get the entire army inside. The battle would be fought from the outside in, save for whatever role Harry could provide from the inside if he managed to break free early.

Moody slapped his beefy hands flat onto the table over the blueprints, "Let's start with our Death Eater allies, now that you're not trying to lock us up you might have some use. It is my understanding that you both can disapparate beyond any Death Eater wards, which means we now have two points of direct access into the castle."

"Correct," Draco said dryly from where he stood a few feet away. Blaise slid his chocolate eyes lazily at Draco from where he stood beside him.

Moody turned to Draco to inquire about the bequeathment mark on the back of my neck that connected us. Hermione had apparently not held back in explaining our connection to most of the Order members, and Mad-Eye intended to use it now that we were both there.

"Can you signal each other with it?" He growled at Draco, the eye in his face spinning uncomfortably around as though he were searching for the person he was conversing with all over the ceiling instead of right before him.

Draco's eyebrows furrowed as he tried to make sense of the man before him, "When I try to locate her, her neck burns and gives it away." He looked across the room at me where I was standing and I nodded my head at Moody, knowing he didn't need to turn his skull to see my confirmation.

"Right. You'll go in first, figure out where Potter is. We'll send you in with multiple wands that you try to get to Potter if the opportunity presents itself. Even better, break him free before the ceremony can start to set up. When the time to rush the castle is right, you'll search for this one in your mind. She'll feel the burn and know it's time. She can then warn the others outside of the wards to attack." Draco looked around at everyone's eyes on him. He clearly was not used to being a hero, so he just barely nodded as though he was disinterested.

Moody swung around to me next, his neck making a sickening crack as he moved. He was like a freaky alien and his energy was giving me goosebumps, "Malfoy number two, or whatever the hell you are, you next. You have unusual powers is that correct?"

I straightened my spine, "Oui, I 'ave powers of de Veela. In combination with de Death Eater mark dey are wildly exaggerated. It could become... quite dangerous if I am not careful. I am still learning to control dem." I swallowed, my face starting to flame from the attention around me. "I could lose myself to it completely. I already almost 'ave."

Moody seemed undisturbed by the possibility that I would become permanently evil, "Veela. That's potent magical fire correct? Can you break through a barrier if they have one set up? With the help of everyone else here, that should get us all through."

I thought for a moment. The woman named Minerva raised an eyebrow in eager curiosity as I responded weakly, "Perhaps. I cannot say."

"Good enough. Not as though we have many options at this point. You'll need to hit it with everything you have when Malfoy number one gives you the hint." He lifted a wooden cane up and hobbled around to the other side of the table where sketches were laid out of various horcruxes that needed to be destroyed once inside. He called upon Hermione, Ron and Ginny at that point and I stood slightly swaying then, feeling the exhaustion of the day drilling into me now that I was out of the spotlight. Across the table I could feel bright blue eyes glaring at me.

I realized I was fighting not to close my eyes, so I rotated and left the room through the green doors Hermione had pointed out earlier. I would catch up later with Moody if necessary. Room ten, she'd said. I made my way down the hallway weakly and pushed open the door, almost tripping immediately on the bed. It was a small cell that was barely big enough to fit a twin bed, likely to house prisoners of war in a different era. I sat on the edge of the bed and pushed my hands into my face.

With the exhaustion and the close proximity of so much wholesome energy, I'd finally managed to fully ground. I cried into my palms thinking back to the fights I'd just had with Draco, both at the Manor and then again outside an hour earlier. I pulled my hair out in front of me while my tears dripped onto my blackened, charred dress. The extreme white of it made it look fake. After what Hermione had described, I didn't dare look at the new blue-black nightmare combination of my eyes.

I took a blue night slip out of my bag and changed, then pulled the thin covers far over my head to cry alone, curling up my knees to my chest. I thought of the freshly scorching dark mark on my left arm that my parents would never forgive me for, that would likely take away my humanity. I thought of Harry and what was happening to him that night, whether or not he would make it. We were all banking on the notion that Voldemort would keep his word about his timeline to burn Harry and enunciate the uprising of the new government in three days time.

The door to the room opening caused me to rip the covers over my head and point my wand at the intruder with a light on the end of it. Draco rolled his eyes at the dramatic display and shut the door, leaning on it. He had an equally tired expression but he looked sly all the same.

"You should really see your hair and eyes," he mocked me with his head back against the glass of the doorway. His eyes flinched as he peered at me, "Have you been crying? Didn't think you were still capable of that."

I rubbed at my eyes to remove the tears pooling there, sitting up fully as he inspected the drab nature of the room, his blue eyes running upwards in disgust, "This is arguably the worst place I've ever had to sleep in. It would be nicer if you weren't in here."

"Enough," I whispered through a tight throat, "Enough bullying."

I threw my head back on the pillow and tried to ignore his cruel jabs, staring at the cement ceiling before me. I knew he thought worse of me than I actually was. I knew he had misconstrued everything that had happened over the past month, from Harry kissing me, to my arrival as a Death Eater, to his discovery of the prison evolving into a camp. He was heartbroken and angry with me, and I didn't have the energy to defend myself.

I shut my eyes as he undressed and put on a sweater and sweatpants. Once he was in the bed, matching my posture on his back next to me, I couldn't help the horrible prickling feeling on the surface of my skin across my body. It was incredibly awkward, and there was no way he didn't feel it as well. We hadn't been in a bed together in over a month.

The smell of his piney clothing pervaded my nose with the smell of home. I shriveled it amateurishly, trying to avoid the painful feelings now welling up. I had wanted that moment for so long, had missed him and longed for him. And now there we were lying beside one another, stewing in disgust for each other.

I turned on my side and slid my arm under the pillow, trying in vain to avoid touching him with my body anywhere. It was virtually impossible as the bed really was built to be comfortable for one person, and receive two but in a crammed manner. Neither of us were asleep as we laid there with aching hearts and rapid breathing.

"I hate you," his voice cut through my spinning mind from where he was behind me.

I groaned loudly, wishing he wouldn't start something immature right as I was trying to fall asleep. I wanted to kick Narcissa for suggesting he come along, knowing full well she'd imposed it in the hopes that we would work out our marital issues.

"Sure Draco, I 'ate you too. Does dat make you feel better?" I snapped back.

He sat up and leaned over my face, his hand resting on my waist, "I haven't given you a reason to hate me. You don't get to say it back."

I turned my face to his eyes which were glittering angrily down at me in the moonlight of the pathetic, barred square window behind the bed. I sneered at him in defense, "I can say whatever I want. You don' know 'ow badly you 'urt me when you left."

His breath blew down into my eyes and I looked away, willing myself not to give in to sweet temptation despite how upset we were. "Can't have been that painful, considering you had your hands all over another man when I left," he argued hoarsely.

I pushed up on my elbow and twisted my spine so that our faces were close. His fingers on my waist were extremely distracting as I tried to focus on what I wanted to say, "I don' know what you saw, but dat was all set up by Pansy. I stopped it. I'm sorry I wasn't quick enough. We were poisoned."

In the pale moonlight we stared at each other. My hair was almost glowing from how white it was, and I could only imagine how wicked my eyes looked now that they had blackened. He was hovering on these updates. I could see the way his vision ventured around my face, my hair, my eyes, my lips. I knew I looked like a stranger, a revised version of my previous self.

I cleared my throat lightly, "It's different. I'm aware."

The hand that was on my waist felt heavy as he slid it a few inches. I closed my eyes suddenly feeling embarrassed that he was assessing my appearance.

He smirked as he leaned back away from me and put his arms behind his head. I heard the cruel amusement in his breath, "Different doesn't even begin to describe it."

The silence was deafening in the wake of the comment. Finally I fell asleep to terrifying dreams filled with flames and death that didn't seem to be related to anything in particular. Just images of gore that I could have easily done without.

I woke in the middle of the night shaking and whining lightly in my sleep. I had apparently forsaken my own dignity by turning around and cuddling right up to Draco. I had my arm around his sweater and my head on his shoulder. My nightmares had woken him up, and he was staring down at me with a blank expression when I looked up at him, "Oh good, you're awake. Now you can get off of me and shut the fuck up."

Slipping my arm away I laid on my back swallowing hard. My arm was scalding like a third degree burn and I brought it across my chest, scratching at the writhing imagery on my skin.

"Don't scratch it, it won't make a difference," Draco advised in a sleepy tone. His eyes had shot to where I was rubbing and picking at the dark mark that was relentlessly hurting. We both stared at the ceiling with our minds racing once again. It was an awful feeling to be sleeping side by side, so close yet so far away.

I closed my eyes and kept scratching anyways. It was purely instinctual. I still did the same to the bequeathment mark when it burned. He shocked me by rudely reaching across and grabbing my right wrist to throw my arm away from the clawing action. "I said stop, it's pissing me off. I just told you it won't help."

"What will 'elp?" I asked, opening my eyes to where he was glaring down at me.

He shook his long hair to the side, "I don't know. Distract yourself with other things."

My heart started skipping as our breaths mingled. I could think of one way to distract myself, and he clearly had the same thing on his mind. He didn't move to lay back down, just held eye contact with me. The tension soared to an electric buzz between us.

His fingers suddenly drifted to my jaw and he leaned in to kiss me roughly. Then he quickly started bunching up my night slip up around my waist and my heart fluttered in painful anticipation. I kissed him back, not feeling any loving passion, just hate and spiteful lust.

He pulled my panties down to my knees with one hooked finger and then his fingers were pushing into me, testing the waters between my legs as his tongue pushed into my mouth to dance against mine.

The thrill of not belonging to each other was exhilarating. I kicked my panties off and pushed him back on the bed swinging to straddle him. He was still in his sweater and sweatpants, his long straight hair sprayed out around his head. I pulled my night slip off of my body, now naked in the moonlight on top of him with long white hair and jet black eyes. I could feel the stiff bulge below the fabric of his clothing as his jaw dropped open at the sight of me.

"Holy fuck," he whispered, rubbing his hands from my ass, up my waist and over my breasts, groping them hungrily.

I ground against him slowly, teasingly. He pulled me forwards so he could yank his pants down behind me, one hand on my butt cheek as he worked the fabric down. Then I was rubbing against his hard cock and both of us were breathing harshly, the panic and anticipation clung to the air dangerously.

He looked up at me with sharp eyebrows pointed together, cruel and resentful. He was tugging at my waist, desperate for me to push down at the exact angle for him to penetrate me so he could take out his jealousy and bitterness on me.

I leaned forward hovering over him and teased his lips with mine. He didn't close his eyes as I bit his lip and sucked on it. Then I felt his hand on the back of my head, guiding our faces together. We kissed roughly, erotically.

"Fuck, just put it in already," he shook against my kisses. My fingers then tangled in his sweater, indicating I wanted it off. Without thinking he pulled it off and there the moonstone shone, between his hard pecs and against his heart. I kissed his neck and down his chest, the closest I had been to the precious family heirloom in years.

Then I reluctantly kept going past it and ran my tongue all the way up his throbbing member, stopping at the head to gently suck on it. He looked down at me in the moonlight with a look of incredulity as I took the entire thing into my throat, up and down. Finally he couldn't take it anymore and ripped me to him by my hair.

I gave him an angry, patient grin at the show of hostility while I repositioned myself over him. He didn't give me the opportunity to stay in control. He lifted his cock and then pulled me into it with his other hand. I took the entire length of it at once, gasping in shock, my hand fell beside his head as I was knocked down. He rocked my hips over him and I flattened my chest to his to continue erotically kissing through the burning and sudden pain of his intrusion. He yanked my hair sideways and bit my neck and shoulder roughly. There wasn't a part of the sex that had love written into it.

I started crying out loudly as an orgasm hit me and he pulled me again by my hair, this time backwards to point his wand at the base of my throat and mutter silencio. I stared at him in outrage at what he'd just done and he smirked at me, "You want the entire Order to hear you getting railed?"

He continued pounding me hard until I'd cum twice more and then he released within me. As we slowed I didn't bother catching my breath before I was off of him and throwing my night slip back on across the room. When I turned he'd matched my speed and was laying there in his boxers, panting at the ceiling.

I climbed back into the bed and reversed the silencing spell with my own wand. Then we fell asleep with our backs against each other's, content with not putting a label on what had just occurred.