Chapter 19: Unforgettable Words

A few weeks into March, just as spring came into full swing, Draco and Seraphim took a picnic lunch up to the hill overlooking the Herbology greenhouses. It was a beautiful spot, though not often used, as it was difficult to get to. Draco had tied the picnic basket (courtesy of Dobby) to the end of his broom and had Seraphim sit in front of him when they flew up.

They sat contentedly after lunch in a comfortable silence, Seraphim leaning back against Draco who looked over the grounds. It was a wonder what had come over the students of Hogwarts since the end of winter holidays. It seemed the interesting alliance between Draco and Harry had sparked unification in the school. It was not uncommon to see people from each house chatting companionably in the halls or studying together in the library. Seraphim nearly fainted from shock when she saw Hermione helping a group of Slytherin and Ravenclaw first-years with their transfiguration homework.

Coming back to the present, Draco sighed irritably. "It isn't fair."

Seraphim tilted her head back to look him in the eye, "What isn't fair?"

"I'm not my father," he explained quietly, as if afraid someone else might hear him. "He tries so hard to be my grandfather and expects me to do the same. My father will never be my grandfather but he'll never accept that. I've accepted that I'll never be my father but he doesn't seem to want to listen to me," said Draco bitterly. "And trying to have Potter assassinated, though he isn't on my list of favorite persons, was a dirty, dishonorable thing to do."

Seraphim was at a loss for words; she simply settled back into his embrace and allowed him to continue with his ranting train of thought.

"I know I was…quite angry with Potter when he sent Father to Azkaban at the end of last year but…still. I knew it would break my mother's heart to see him leave home even if she knew he was coming back." Draco snorted. "We wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for my father. My mother always spoke highly of her sister, Andromeda, when my father wasn't around. If she weren't so devoted to Father, she'd have come to her senses eventually.

"Father is so divided between his idol worship of the Dark Lord and his love for my mother. And me," he added as an afterthought. "He wants me to be proud of him, and I was at one point. I was proud of him standing up to those he opposed; I still admire him for that courage. He so wants to take Grandfather's place beside the Dark Lord. The coveted position has been vacant since Grandfather expired quite some years ago."

Repositioning herself so that she was facing him, Seraphim sighed. "Draco…"

"And I don't want that foul blemish on my arm. The summer before fourth year I could see the outline of my father's getting clearer. Do you know what people call me? In my first year they called me names behind my back too. It's not just Potter. 'Baby Death Eater' they called me; of course, then I was more likely to fulfill their expectations. But now it's simply 'Death Eater' and I couldn't be more insulted. As if I'd want to answer to someone who left my father and escaped on his own! I may be sneaky, but I am not entirely dishonorable," Draco hmph-ed. "And I haven't got the mark either," he said, rolling up the sleeve of his robe. "Do you see the mark anywhere?" he demanded hotly.

Seraphim examined his pale forearm. "No, there's nothing." She shifted again, wrapping her arms around his torso, "Draco, they don't think you're a Death Eater."

"Yes they do. And after what Lady Dae did! How can they-"

"Draco, no one besides you, me, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Uncle Albus know about that," Seraphim reminded him. "And we know what side you're on."

"But still-"

"What exactly did she do to me to get you so riled up?"

Draco shut up. "She used the Imperius on you, remember?" he asked quietly, not wanting to continue the conversation.

"But what did she do…what did she try to make me do?" Seraphim looked up curiously.

"Nothing," said Draco quickly.

"Don't you say that," Seraphim smirked, "you do not kiss someone the way you kissed me unless something really, really big is at stake. Now what did she want to make me do?"

Draco mumbled something incomprehensible.

"What?"

"You tried to Avada Kedavra me," he muttered. Then, seeing the look of horror on Seraphim's face, he added hastily, "But I stopped you after avada."

Seraphim's mouth opened and closed wordlessly. She hugged him tightly, "I would never…you know I would never…of my own free will…never…I tried to resist…not really paying attention to what it said…just trying to not do it…and what if I did…" she babbled on for a few moments before Draco, in a last ditch attempt, kissed her again.

"There, feel better?" he asked.

Seraphim shook her head, a deer-in-the-headlights look in her eyes. "How?"

"She aimed her wand in your general direction and said imperio," Draco explained.

"Ha ha, not funny," Seraphim pouted. "What if I'd really hurt you?"

"I don't think you'd really be able to manage the killing curse, you didn't exactly want to kill me," he replied, brushing strands of hair from his face.

"But the Imperius Curse is supposed to-"

Draco shushed her. "It doesn't matter, it's over. If she'd hit Weasley or Granger, or even Potter for that matter, it would have come out the same and one or more of us would have ended up in some sort of danger." He smiled comfortingly, "Just forget it, okay?"

Shakily, Seraphim ran a finger down his jaw, over his lips, brushing against his cheek. Her finger was soon replaced with her lips; a gentle, pleading caress, asking forgiveness for the crime she'd nearly committed. Pulling away from him, she smiled and looked away, whispering to herself, "I think I love you…"

Draco, who had been enjoying the intimate moment, froze. "C-come again?" he asked weakly.

As if coming to her senses, Seraphim answered him with a "huh?"

"You just…said…"

Realizing her mistake, Seraphim blushed a deep scarlet. "Well, I…um, th-that is to say that. Um." Figuring that, as Draco was not edging slowly away in fear, her thinking out loud didn't wholly disgust him, she tried to rectify her mistake. "I'm sorry, forget I said anything."

"No," Draco caught her hand as she tried to hide her embarrassment. "Did you," he hesitated, "did you mean that?"

Seraphim avoided his eyes for a tense moment. "I…I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. About you…and me. And I don't want to lose you, silly as it sounds. I want to keep you for myself," she whispered, biting her lip. "And…I guess I knew I had to figure it out sooner than later because, well, because of what's going to happen. And, yes, I…I think I do love you." She looked up at him, "Are you mad at me?"

Draco appeared mildly shocked at her question. "Why would I be mad at you?" he asked incredulously.

"Well, I don't know." Seraphim chanced looking him in the eye and blushed. "It's just…"

"I'm," Draco bent down to touch his forehead to Seraphim's. "I'm very flattered."

"Is that…all you have to say?" asked Seraphim disappointedly.

Draco shook his head and smiled, "When I give you an answer, I want to be sure of myself. I could say 'I think', but I want to say 'I know.' Is that all right with you?"

Seraphim blushed. "You want to fall in love with me?"

A light shade of pink tinged Draco's cheeks. "Now, I didn't say that…"

"But is that what you meant?" Seraphim looked hopefully up at the speechless blonde.

Draco smirked. "You'll just have to wait and see, won't you?"

Seraphim raised her hand to slap him playfully but was intercepted when he grasped her wrist firmly. "Draco…"

"Just wait," he said, giving her a pleading look.

Mock-glaring at him, Seraphim decided to humor him. "Fine then."

They finished their picnic in a somewhat disgruntled silence.

A few weeks later, Seraphim was writing in the journal Draco had given her. Holed up in her room for the day, she was mildly unhappy that Draco had decided to schedule a last-minute practice for the Slytherin Quidditch team as preparation for their upcoming match against Ravenclaw. If Slytherin won against Ravenclaw, they would be facing Gryffindor for the Quidditch cup for the 'bazillionth time in a row' according to Ron.

Harry and Ron had also gone off to discuss diversionary tactics for the final match. After their victory over Hufflepuff, Gryffindor's position in the last game was secure and the boys wanted to make sure they held on to the cup. Hermione offered to keep Seraphim company but Seraphim had politely declined knowing full well that Hermione had wanted to go to the library to read up on dysar charms.

She was interrupted while planning her next lesson on the theory of spells dealing with telekinesis by a tapping on her window. Peering through her bed hanging and not seeing anyone there, she resumed her writing.

"Now…telekinesis spells are harder without a wand because-" Tap, tap, tap. "-you can use your wand to-" Tap, tap, tap. "-keep control of the object more easily by-" Tap, tap, tap. "-pointing at it without concentrated eye-contact and-" TAP, TAP, TAP. "What the bloody hell is it?"

Getting off her bed and stomping to the window, she wrenched open the shutter to find Julian pecking incessantly. The falcon swooped in and gave her a dirty look.

"How was I supposed to know it was you?" she asked in her defense. "The only ones who tap on the window are you and Draco and Draco has practice." She thought for a moment. "And you were supposed to be delivering a letter, I sent you off this morning, didn't I?"

Julian ruffled his feathers impatiently and held out his leg. Seraphim raised an eyebrow; there were two different pieces of parchment tied there. One was the reply from her cousin confirming that they'd be seeing her over the summer. The other looked like it was from Draco; he was the only person she knew that used slightly green-tinted parchment for his personal stationary. Sighing, Seraphim tossed Julian some leftover biscuits and waved him away. She preferred to be alone when reading mail from Draco.

Seraphim,

I don't know why, or how, I figured it out during a Quidditch practice, but I had a quill, parchment, and some ink so I decided to tell you. Meet me after practice by the north-end goal posts, please?

Draco

Seraphim rolled her eyes. Why he had to be so vague, she didn't know. Checking the clock, she deduced that practice was nearly over. Grabbing her cloak, she exited the Gryffindor tower and made her way to the Quidditch pitch, careful to keep out of sight of the other Slytherin house team members who might think her rendezvous was a cover-up for spying on them.

Waiting around the goal posts was boring work but Seraphim was rewarded when Draco emerged from the locker room looking fresh and, though she didn't admit it out loud, damn sexy. "Hello, love," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "Have a good practice?"

Draco nodded, "They're getting better."

"So what did you figure out?" asked Seraphim, looking up. "I think it's going to rain," she added as an after thought.

"Seraphim, be serious here please." Draco took her hand and looked her in the eye. "Seraphim…"

She looked at him attentively for about fifteen seconds. When he didn't say anything, she waved her free hand in front of his face. "Draco?"

Leaning in to nuzzle her neck, Draco wrapped his arms around her and whispered softly, "I love you."

Seraphim stiffened, pulled back, and blinked, "I'm dreaming." Shaking her head, she swayed slightly. "I have to be dreaming…I-" she fell to the ground in a dead faint.

"Damn," Draco swore. "Maybe telling her after she pulled three all-nighters in a row was a bad idea." Quickly hoisting her into his arms, he smiled and kissed her forehead. "I love you," he whispered again, hoping Harry and Ron wouldn't dismember him for Seraphim's condition. Grabbing his broom, and praying it didn't slip, as he couldn't bend down to pick it up with a girl in his arms, Draco started for the castle.