Defeated by restlessness and the sun starting to stream into her tent, Amelia got up and went to her small kitchenette. She flicked her wand and watched as the kettle gracefully glided from the countertop to the stove, to sit atop as it boiled. She rubbed her eyes, somewhere between being tired but alert, and waited for the telling whistle.

"Hello? Amelia?"

"Come in," Amelia replied, creasing her eyebrows and glancing at her watch. Almost 9am.

Ginny Weasley walked in with the ease of knowing a place well; she spent a lot of time at Amelia's, sitting on the sofa night after night, cradling a large mug of tea or cocoa. Amelia lifted another mug from the cupboard and placed it next to the one she had prepared for herself.

"Morning," Ginny said, sounding and looking spritely with her hair slung back effortlessly in a French braid as she collapsed onto the sofa.
Amelia poured two cups of tea and joined Ginny on the sofa.

"I saw you leave fairly early last night – just wanted to check you were alright," Ginny continued, taking the mug gratefully from Amelia and crossing her legs. Amelia could tell from the way Ginny peered at her over the rim as she blew on the hot liquid, that she knew something wasn't quite right. Had she seen Draco chase after Amelia? Or worse, somehow glanced them in the shadows outside the party?

"Oh, you know… after a few champagnes, I just felt a bit tired," Amelia said, feigning a breeziness.

Ginny frowned, unconvinced. "I know what you are like after a few champagnes, and it certainly isn't 'tired'."
Amelia couldn't help but laugh.

"I saw you talking to Draco at one point, he didn't say anything to upset you did he? Merlin knows he can be a twat of party-ending proportions," Ginny said with a dramatic eye-roll and small smile. Amelia could tell from the way she mentioned Draco's name that her friend had no idea he secret she was harbouring. She could lie now, convincingly, and she wouldn't have to answer any more questions. But a part of Amelia wanted Ginny to have noticed a strange tension between Draco and herself, so she could have an avenue to share her feelings, or at least offload them.

"That's true," Amelia offered simply, mirroring Ginny's smile and blowing into her own cup. "He wasn't being a twat… well," she sighed, "I don't know with him."

Ginny said nothing, and Amelia immediately realised that perhaps her friend was more perceptive than she had originally given her credit for.

"Okay, I need to tell you something," Amelia restarted slowly, her tone hesitant as she struggled to look back at Ginny. The redhead straightened her posture, as if poised and ready for whatever Amelia was to divulge, and for a moment it felt like the both of them were back in their school days, when gossip would be shared in whispers around the courtyard or library. "And I'm sorry I've never said anything, but I've just never known how to tell anyone. It's too mad. I thought I could just ignore it and it would eventually go away, but with recent events… it looks like that won't happen."

Again, Ginny said nothing but nodded slowly and silently, as if any sudden movement or remark could have Amelia change her mind.

Amelia sighed and put her yea down on the small coffee table next to the sofa.

"Draco and I – we have a history, a much more personal one that I've let on," she said cautiously, her eyes raking Ginny's expression for any judgement. She felt a rush of affection for her best friend as she detected none. "It actually started in our seventh year."
"At Hogwarts?!"

Amelia nodded. "It was a complete accident, obviously… and it started out as just being paired up in Potions and… it's hard to explain how it happened but we became… really close."

Amelia guided Ginny through the timeline of her and Draco's history: from the first time they kissed, to their frantic reunion during the Battle of Hogwarts, how Amelia had killed a Death Eater in the halls of their school to save his life, and how they had fled together and lived on the run for months on end with only each other for company. How they had exchanged words of love to each other, and were ambushed by the Death Eaters and she'd woken up alone in a forest with no trace of him anywhere, only to discover he was living as a Death Eater, engaged to Pansy Parkinson, sealing the suspicious she'd had that everything they had been, was a lie.

Ginny listened to every word, occasionally showing shock on her face, but never judgement; never a trace that she thought any less of Amelia for her experiences.

"Merlin, that must've been so bizarre for you when he showed up here," Ginny offered with genuine sympathy. "I wish I had known."
Amelia felt a pang of guilt for keeping her friend in the dark all these years, feeling foolish that she had determinedly kept the secret so long.

"I should've told you; I just felt like such a fool." Amelia felt her voice crack slightly as a warmth behind her eyes threatened her. "I mean, I still do."

"You are not a fool! By the sounds of things, he played an entirely convincing role." Her tone was that of a protective best friend, and Amelia appreciated her even more so for it. "So what happened last night?"
Amelia continued: she told Ginny all about Draco's 'confessions' and protestations that the whole ordeal was fabricated to make him look the villain.

"Can you believe that? After everything he's put me through – to then stand in front of me and try to tell me it was fake, and he's some hero!" Amelia finished, letting some of her rage seep out.

To her surprise, Ginny slowly exhaled; "And you feel certain he's not telling the truth?"
"Gin – it's Draco Malfoy. I was an idiot to ever fall for him in the first place. Imagine the colossal stupidity if I now chose to believe this."

Ginny nodded slowly. "I suppose."

Amelia cocked her head, waiting to hear more of Ginny's thoughts.

"I mean, obviously I'm only learning about all of this now, so you can definitely tell me to shove it… but, I hate to say that – he does seem like he's changed. Even Harry has said so – and you remember the way those two were in Hogwarts."

Amelia sighed. "It's just taken me so long to even begin forgiving myself and come to terms with all of this… Death Eaters killed my father. I can't just suddenly entertain the idea that he's conveniently been this misunderstood hero all along." She heard the venom in her voice and could tell that Ginny was surprised to see her act uncharacteristically spiteful.

There was a long pause, where Ginny appeared to be turning the information in her head. They sat and sipped their teas, Amelia letting her adrenaline simmer after offloading everything.

Ginny gasped – Amelia almost spilt tea all down her front. "I've just remembered something… You know how I said that Malfoy helped me during the Battle of Hogwarts?"
Amelia nodded, sitting forward.

"Yes, I remember! He asked me about you afterwards. He seemed desperate to find you. Of course – I didn't know where you were. But he was definitely asking!"

Amelia knew that Ginny had been sympathy to Draco's case since he'd arrived at the resistance. She wished she could share in the enthusiasm of this revelation.

Finally, Ginny spoke again. "Maybe it wouldn't be an awful idea to hear him out and have a proper conversation – it might at least give you a bit of closure?"


Amelia pondered this for the remaining days leading up to Christmas. The kiss she had allowed herself to have with Draco plagued her every moment like an inescapable physical pain. She found herself desperately wanting what he had said to be true, but was constantly pulled back by a small logical voice in her mind. Many times, she almost marched to his tent to confront him and have him tell her the whole story, start to finish, so that she could study him for any hint of truth or deception. Perhaps Ginny was right; perhaps she would feel a sense of closure if she had all the information – but what would it achieve? What it not just make her feel the heartbreak all over again? She had tried so hard to banish him from her mind, and tell herself that everything that had happened between them was fabricated by him, that it felt unwise to undo all of that with one conversation.

It was a brisk morning; her clock told her it was Sunday 17th December. As it was her turn to apparate into a town to pick up various supplies for the resistance, she tied her hair back into a loose bun to sit atop her head, and wound a thick scarf around her neck.

Dean Thomas was already waiting for her outside her tent. He wore a thick coat with a knitted beanie. They would always venture outside of the resistance camp in pairs, or small groups of three or four. Less seemed incredibly risky, and more felt idiotic.

Her and Dean made small talk, mostly about Christmas, until they got to the edge of the forest – the designated spot to apparate from.

The town was small and coastal and reminded Amelia a lot of the places she and Draco would sneak around in years ago, trying to get small amounts of food and supplies.

The key was to blend in, be inconspicuous and be in and out as quickly as possible. Muggle towns only. Hermione had a travel guide to all of the different churches and chapels in Britain, which all resistance members had memorised in order to apparate to these quaint villages dotted around the British landscape.

They strode down the narrow cobble-stoned street, occasionally smiling as passers-by whose eye they caught, making their way to a grocery store at the end of the winding high street. Amelia caught the fleeting smells of the shops: the pungent perfume of a small clothing boutique with pale mannequins striking elaborate poses whilst dressed in high end coats and hats; the fresh bread of a small bakery; the sterile sting of a salon. Whenever it was her turn to come into a town – though it was nerve-racking – Amelia loved it. The resistance had become her family, and in many ways it mimicked a real town, but she desperately missed walking amongst the world and peering into shop windows.

"Got the muggle money ready?" Amelia asked quietly as they went through the sliding doors of the grocery store – a facet which was constantly talked about within the resistance ("Self-opening doors! Sometimes I feel we don't give the muggles enough credit, y'know," George Weasley would often exclaim).

Dean nodded and patted his coat pocket.

Amelia grabbed what she now knew was called a 'trolley' – an oddly shaped, large metal basket with wheels, which was horribly difficult to navigate at the best of times – and they set off around the small store. They would aim to collect a range of food that came in a tin (this tended to last a very long time and could be used to make all sorts of meals), fresh produce, anything which could be planted and reproduced, and various things people would request on a list. Everyone knew that their shopping couldn't look too out of place, so at times things were unceremoniously struck from the list by Harry and Henry. As soon as they were out of sight of the cashier, they were to apparate back – often while still inside the store.

Dean kept his hand deep in his coat pocket, and Amelia knew that his fist would be tightly squeezing his wand. While she piled various items into the trolley he kept a lookout, surveying the isles. The shop was fairly empty; for the most part it was mothers with small children, and retired folk meandering throughout the rows of stacked foods.

Just as Amelia asked Dean whether she had grabbed enough bags of flour, a loud crack echoed through the store, bouncing off the tiled floor. The sound of apparation. Amelia dropped the bag from her hand and plunged into her own pocket, withdrawing her wand as Dean shoved his back against hers.

"You definitely heard that, right?" Amelia mumbled as she and Dean stayed poised in the empty isle, their backs against each other's to cover both ends.

They waited for someone to round the corner - a Death Eater perhaps- but none came. They stood at the ready for several long moments, before Dean said that it might've just been someone dropping something. She felt his body relax against hers and she scanned the isle one more time, before sighing and picking up the bag of flour from the floor.
"Let's get out of here anyway – that's put me on edge a bit," she said as Dean nodded, looking away from her to peer down the aisle to the front of the store, where a customer seemed to be yelling at a staff member.

It happened quickly, as soon as Amelia straightened back up. One arm around her middle, one securely around her neck. She felt whoever it was drag her backwards, as if they were gliding on wheels. Their grip was icy cold.

She tried to scream but it was as if she had no air in her. She prised at the hands and fumbled for her wand but the grip was too strong.

Dean turned, alarmed. His wand outstretched.

"Dean – no," Amelia managed as she watched another Death Eater appear behind Dean, a wand pointed to the back of his head.

Dean seemed to figure out what was happening and stood still, his wand his trained on the man holding Amelia.

Amelia stamped down hard on the Death Eater's foot and simultaneously elbowed him hard in the gut, withdrawing her own wand as she felt his grip release her. The second Death Eater acted quickly, and she narrowly missed a curse he sent her way, instead exploding a large bag of brown sugar behind her. Within a moment, her and Dean were engaged in combat with both Death Eaters, sending tinned foods flying from the shelves. No muggles came running down the aisle though, nor were there any screams from the catastrophic noise or sudden sparks of light, and Amelia wondered if the Death Eaters had somehow sealed the shop.

She had become a solid fighter since her time in the resistance; all members did duelling practice a few times a week. She was much more confident in her abilities than she had been at the beginning of the war.

Her and Dean were backed up against a shelf of the aisle, their shoulders pressed together as they tirelessly deflected curses and fired their own. Just as she was going to grab his hand to apparate, Amelia saw from the corner of her eye as a curse hit Dean and he shot backwards into a shelf to fall on the floor in a slump. For a few more moments she managed to stave off the Death Eaters as they approached her, trying to edge closer to Dean so that they could apparate away together, but just as she tried to bend down and grab him, her shielding charm broke and her wand flew out of her hand. With Dean barely conscious beside her, she was completely trapped.

"Amelia Collins," one of them said from behind their mask. "The trouble you've been causing us," he continued tauntingly as the other laughed hollowly.

Amelia frowned with genuine confusion. They both had their wands trained on her. She could see her own a metre away, but knew that diving for it would probably be fatal.

"Oi, you - lad," the Death Eater now addressed Dean, who was still foggily slumped on the floor. "Tell them they have three days until she's dead."

"Wha –

Amelia didn't have time to finish as the two men in front of her became black blurs, hurtling towards her. The muggle store vanished around her.