Time crept by slowly in the medial tent as the silence surrounding the four of them mocked Amelia with its stillness. She paced the floor with heavy feet and clammy hands, routinely wiping her palms on her jeans with frantic movements as her anxious eyes swept back and forth up to the clock on the wall.

There was nothing to do but wait. Wait to see who came back; wait to see how they came back.

The beds were all prepared, rolls of bandages placed neatly on the counter and various healing potions stood to attention behind the materials: essence and root of dittany, skele-gro, wound cleaning potions, blood-replenishing potion, and the dwindling remains of the dreamless sleep draught amongst others.

Michael was at the counter, drumming his fingers on the table-top in a uneven staccato rhythm as he flicked through a book of healing spells, mumbling under his breath. He almost looked like someone doing last minute revision before their OWLs. Luna had just returned from the dining area with four coffees floating behind her, and Ginny sat in a chair, wringing her hands in her lap and chewing her lip.

Amelia felt pulled between wanting to savour these moments of stillness, agonising though they were they were at least filled with the uncertain potential of everything being fine, and wanting to dive into the inevitable chaos that would ensue once people returned. If they return, a dark voice whispered in her back of her mind. She shook her head to banish this thought; had to remain hopeful.

As if someone in the stars had heard her thoughts, a loud noise slashed through the quiet of the early evening. Ginny stood abruptly, Luna fumbled with her coffee mug as it crashed to the floor, Michael snapped the book shut. Amelia gulped. They all stood and stared at each other for a moment, eyes wide.

Again, the noise. It was a man's voice. Orange sparks lit up the sky, momentarily engulfing the medical tent in a deep warm glow – the signal that people had returned. Amelia knew that everyone stationed at the perimeters and dotted around the resistance would be standing at attention now, waiting to see if any Death Eaters had somehow managed to follow those members back here.

They sprinted out towards the hoarse but booming voice, to where the embers of the wand's sparks floated gracefully down from the sky like autumn leaves from a tree. It was Henry who Amelia saw first, looking dishevelled but in one piece. Her voice hitched in her throat as some of the tension in her body managed to leak out with the sigh of relief she gave as she ran towards him, flinging her arms around his neck.

"I'm alright," he said into her shoulder as she tightened her grip on him, aware that her body was trembling with the bottled adrenalin of waiting in that damned medical tent. "We're okay," he said, pulling back and flashing a warm grin and ruffling her hair in a way that used to aggravate her to no end when they were little. "The others already back I presume?"

Amelia frowned. "No. You're the first."

Henry matched her expression and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, clearly trying to keep composure and not worry Amelia – or himself. "They must be close behind," he said in what Amelia imagined was meant to be a reassuring voice.

She looked behind Henry and saw others who had returned getting to their feet, dusting themselves off and checking on one another as Luna and Michael ran towards them. Ron, Hermione, Fleur. All faces that she adored, and relief momentarily spilled over her once again. None were Draco Malfoy though. "Draco is still there then?"

"Yes, must be – but he's okay – he'll be alright."

Amelia couldn't contain it – why couldn't anyone understand? "Alright? Henry, he was stabbed – he almost died – only days ago! Why would you let him go? Why didn't you tell him no? If he doesn't come back…" She was yelling again, but she hardly cared.

"Amelia – we're at war. We can't be picky like that in these situations – he assured me he felt up to it and we're not exactly in a position to turn down volunteers to come on a mission like that. It wouldn't be fair."

"He's just come out of danger. He needs a chance – he's not well…" Hot angry tears sparked behind her eyes as she spoke and she heard the frustration in her voice melt into desperation. It was hard to argue Henry's point though. "Who is looking out for him out there?"

Henry frowned, taken aback by the comment. "Wha – everyone is. We all look out for each other, you know this Amelia."

Amelia shook her head. "I see the way people still look at him – like he's not one of us. Like he's more dispensable than the rest of us. And the Death Eaters – if there's one person they want dead more than Harry, it's him. You can't tell me that it's an even battle ground for him."

She saw through her blurred and teary vision that Henry's jaw was tensed as he sucked air in through his nose. "It was his decision Amelia. Like I said, I can't spare fighters if they offer to help. Don't underestimate his abilities." He offered a small smile and squeezed her shoulder. "He's paired with Harry and between them – they'll find their way back here. We gave the signal to portkey back not too long ago so they're probably doing a last sweep of the hospital for any fugitives before coming back."

Amelia hastily wiped away her tears, embarrassed as the wind washed away her outburst and left them standing in silence.

"And Mills, he is accepted here – he's one of us. Everyone knows he's a good guy," Henry added reassuringly. Again, all Amelia could do was nod silently, the swelling emotion in her throat preventing her from speaking.

A shriek pierced this silence though, and Amelia suddenly remembered that others had come back. She hadn't even noticed that those who had apparated only a few yards from Henry were newcomers until Ginny's cry and the flash of red hair sprinting past Amelia almost made her lose her footing in the field.

Her mouth fell open when she saw what Ginny was running towards; she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Surely her eyes were playing tricks on her.

Molly and Arthur Weasley. Their arms outstretched and fresh tears glistening on their faces in the approaching moonlight as Ginny sank into their embrace, the tangle of red hair and limbs collectively heaving with the sobs of three people.

Amelia looked up at Henry to confirm what she was seeing; he grinned and raised his eyebrows with a small shrug. "Turns out we have more allies out there than we might've realised."

"I-it was the Weasley's on the other end of that radio?" Amelia asked, still trying to piece together what she was seeing. Her poor best friend's parents hadn't been heard of since the Battle of Hogwarts. They had assumed the worst.

"Not just them," Henry said, nodding towards two other figures behind the Weasleys, now being escorted to the medical tent by Michael. The woman was around the same age as Molly and Arthur, with her appearance just as wild and unruly, presumably from living a life in the shadows of society. Amelia frowned as she looked at them – she didn't know them, but the woman… there was something so familiar about her. Her eyes dragged from the lady's frustratingly familiar face to her outstretched arm: her hand was placed protectively on the head of a small boy, no more than about four years old.

"Andromeda Tonks – oh, and little Teddy Lupin," Henry explained.

Amelia let out a small gasp as Andromeda and the boy walked past them towards the medical tent, the older woman whispering soothing words to Teddy as she took his hand in hers.

"She's –

"Draco's aunt. Yep, a family affair," Henry said.


The atmosphere was strange in the medical tent: alongside Henry, Hermione, Ron and Fleur had returned safely with a few bumps and bruises, but mostly uninjured. Molly and Arthur were in one of the rooms with Ron, Ginny, Fleur and Hermione – a family reunited – as Michael looked them over. The others hadn't returned yet though. Harry, Bill, Seamus and Draco – people's friends, lovers, family… were all still out there. Luna had offered to go and heat up some soup for those who had returned – Arthur Weasley's eyes had lit up at the mention of a proper meal - which left Amelia to tend to the other new arrivals, Andromeda and Teddy.

She came tentatively into the small room. Andromeda and Teddy both sat on the bed that Draco had lay in only days before. Her mouth twitched at the corner as she took in the scene of Andromeda stroking the back of Teddy's hair as he pulled at what looked like a hastily homemade toy in his lap. Andromeda looked up at Amelia with kind eyes and smiled at her presence.

"Hi – I'm Amelia. How are you feeling?"

"A lot of relief," Andromeda offered. Amelia knelt in front of them, armed with a small trayful of potions and bandages.

Amelia returned the smile. "I'm sure."

The worry for Draco still throbbed painfully at the forefront of her mind like a persistent toothache and it was hard to concentrate on the task at hand.

"And you, little man? How are you doing?" She turned her attention to the small boy, who looked up and considered her with wide and inquisitive eyes.

"He's a bit shy," Andromeda said as Teddy melted into her side, apparently deciding that Amelia was not yet to be trusted. Could she blame him? The boy had grown up amidst a war.

Amelia took in the appearance of Andromeda, sister of the infamously deranged Bellatrix Lestrange and cold Narcissa Malfoy. Aunt to her love. Draco had spoken about her before – their situations were not too different after all. Amelia knew that Andromeda had been renounced by her family after falling in love with a muggle-born – Ted Tonks. She remembered hearing about Ted's death early on in the war and her heart quietly sank for the woman in front of her.

The older woman had light brown hair and a kind face – her dark eyes were soft but wise, crinkled delicately at the corners as if from a lifetime of laughter. They were different to Draco's eyes which were haunting and sceptical behind their silvery pools. As she grinned down at the small boy though, Amelia caught a glimpse of Draco's smile across her face. Draco had his father's eyes, but his smile – rare though it was – appeared to be a gift from the Black family.

Amelia put her hand out, doing her best to gulp down the feeling of impending doom and smile at Teddy as he tentatively looked to Andromeda – who nodded – and placed his arm in Amelia's hand. She set to work gently cleaning a graze across his tiny forearm, putting a couple of droplets of dittany onto a cloth.

A loud crack echoed around the medical tent and Amelia's breath caught in her throat, her hands tensing as she dabbed at Teddy's weeping graze. She was about to shoot out of the room, intent on knowing that Draco had returned and was okay, when she heard voices in the room next door.

"Everyone else back?" Asked Seamus's voice from beyond the closed door.

"Not yet mate. Harry and Draco still unaccounted for," came Henry's voice.

Amelia tuned it out – unable to listen to any more. She turned her attention back to the two newcomers in front of her, giving a weak smile and briefly clocking the inquisitive expression on Andromeda's face, presumably at hearing the name that had made Amelia's heart jump into her own throat.

"Why don't you show Amelia one of your little tricks?" Andromeda asked Teddy, obviously deciding against enquiring about the mention of her Death Eater nephew. Teddy's face immediately cracked into a smile.

With a little wrinkle of his nose, it turned into a pig's snout. Amelia laughed as he strained to turn his fringe bright pink and forgot her worries for a moment.

"His mother was a metamorphmagus," Andromeda explained, a sadness washing over her eyes at this.

Amelia nodded slowly and looked back to the giggling Teddy Tonks. "I met your mum a couple of times when I was younger – she was one of the funniest people I ever met. And your dad… he was the best teacher at Hogwarts."

Teddy didn't really respond to this, but Andromeda gave Amelia a sad smile. Judging by his age, Amelia imagined that he didn't really have any memories of his parents.

"Amelia you say? I saw you with Henry Collins just before – your brother?"

Again, Amelia nodded as she carefully wrapped a bandage around Teddy's arm.

"Ahh. I knew your parents – Russell and Rosemary, yes?"

Amelia felt her eyebrows twitch. She didn't know quite how to respond, but she gave a small nod and faint smile.

"I was at school around the same time as your mother – different houses of course. I was in Slytherin – don't hold that against me though. She was a great Chaser, and so bright. I was very jealous," Andromeda said with a warm nostalgia. "And my husband knew your father – a great man. I can see both of them in you."

Amelia looked up and saw Andromeda was studying her with inquisitive eyes. She bit her lip, again lost for words. With Draco still missing and Andromeda teasing out painful memories of her dead parents, it all felt too much.

"This war has taken so many, far too soon," Andromeda mumbled sadly as she stroked Teddy's mousey brown hair.

Amelia was about to let the curiosity fighting deep inside of her bubble to the surface and ask Andromeda where she and Teddy, Molly and Arthur had been all this time, but she heard commotion beyond the door - another loud crack and the tell-tale orange light illuminating the walls of the medical tent once more. Her eyes widened and she shot up.

"I'm sorry – I'll be back, I promise."

She didn't wait for a reply but instead fled the room with bated breath, sprinting through the medical tent towards where the wand's sparks floated downwards through the evening sky.


Draco landed on the grass gracelessly, immediately feeling the renewed pain from his side spasm and twist through his whole body. He clutched his wound with bloodied hands and growled loudly, silently wishing his walking stick was around. He barely had a moment to regain his composure though before Potter was stomping up to him.

"What the hell was that back there? You could've compromised the whole mission!" Harry said through angry gritted teeth.

Still grimacing and unable to stand completely upright, Draco glared at his once-enemy. "Pipe down Potter, don't get your knickers in a twist. We got back in one piece, didn't we?"

"That's not the point, Malfoy! We had very specific plans – stay together in our pairs and sweep the hospital, extract any fugitives and get back here as soon as possible. Running off like that to exact some personal revenge mission was not part of the brief!"

Draco sighed and managed to straighten himself up, meeting Harry's eyeline now. The Gryffindor looked flushed with anger at the Slytherin. Inwardly, Draco knew that his actions in the hospital were dangerous and out of line, but there was no way he could admit that to Harry, let alone explain them. He didn't understand what had possessed him either.

"Well, I apologise for getting a little worked up over seeing someone who had a fairly significant hand in ruining my fucking life," he grumbled angrily, but Harry just rolled his eyes.

"As opposed to the rest of us who are living a life of luxury!" He closed his eyes, swallowed and sighed, evidently trying to expel his temper. "Look Draco, you're good in combat and we do need you (Draco smirked at this), but we have to be working as a team – at all times. We're all angry and we all want revenge, but sometimes you need to think about the bigger picture."

Draco grinded his teeth with a locked jaw. He gave a stiff nod. "That all, Potter?" He sneered. Harry nodded, wiping his hand on his forehead, and Draco took no time in turning his heel and heading towards Amelia's tent.


Amelia ran towards two figures in the middle of a row of tents and her heart began to throb as she realised neither had a silky mop of blonde atop their head.

"Harry! You're back," Amelia said, embracing her friend as he scanned the resistance.

"Is everyone here alright?" He asked, looking Amelia up and down. Amelia barely noticed the older gentleman beside the Gryffindor, who had seemingly strolled off and was looking around the tents with curiosity.

"Everyone's fine – they're all back. You and Draco are the last."

She saw Harry's shoulders relax slightly.

"Where's Draco?" Amelia asked, dreading the answer.

"He came back on our portkey. I think he headed straight for your tent."

Amelia nodded, a warm relief washing over her. She gave Harry a quick smile and steered herself in the direction of her tent.

"Amelia," she whipped around as Harry called her. His face was etched in a concerning frown. "Uh, make sure he's alright."

Amelia didn't have time to ask what it was Harry meant – his remark pushed a renewed urgency through her limbs as she ran towards her tent, feeling the cold December wind prickling against her cheeks and through her hair.

There was a light on in her tent – he was there. She flung the door open.

Draco was standing in the middle of the small lounge room, evidently pacing back and forth when he snapped his head up to see Amelia. She regarded him for a moment: he looked wild. His hair was knotted and dirty, his face flushed and glistening with sweat, and his hand… Amelia's eyes widened as she saw the raw grazes on his knuckles, weeping with blood.

"Merlin Draco, are you alright?" She muttered, closing the door behind her and approaching him with a caution made his shoulders sink slightly as he turned to face her, his mouth half open.

"I'm fine," he replied. He sounded exhausted – his voice was cracked and hoarse.

Amelia took his hand into hers; it trembled and looked even more painful up close. She held it in the palms of her hands as if it were a delicate jewel. Feeling the sting of tears as she allowed the relief of his safe return to sink in, she pulled him into a tight embrace. His body was vibrating and she held him tighter, squeezing him, feeling hot fat streaks of tears fall down her cheeks.

She'd been so terrified of losing him in those hours that she thought it could have driven her to madness, but as she held him to her she felt hot anger rise up, cutting through the relief she felt and before she knew it she was peeling herself off him and matching his confused expression with a fixed stern look.

"How could you do that Draco?" Her voice was instantly raised and she punctuated each word with a hit to his chest. "Why would you go out there? Why would you 'volunteer' yourself?"

"Wha – I didn't realise I needed permission –

"This – she pointed a shaking finger at his abdomen – this has barely started healing!"

"I feel fine!" He matched her volume now.

"Not to mention that the Death Eaters would like nothing more than for you to walk right into their open arms and kill you!"

"That goes for everyone in this resistance Amelia!"

Amelia took a step back, her frustration with him burning white hot. "For Merlin's sake Draco! You don't sleep, you hardly eat! I hear you, every night, tossing and turning and muttering! You are not well and you are certainly not in the right state to be offering yourself up to fight against who-knows how many Death Eaters!"

The words wounded Draco, Amelia could see a shadow cast over his silvery eyes. There was silence as her accusations hung between them for a moment, before Draco sucked in a deep breath through his nose.

"What would you have me do then, huh?" He asked in a barely restrained voice through gritted teeth. "Stay here? In this tent? Live up to the expectation everyone has of me that I'm just a spineless coward?! Have everyone else fight the battles for me?!" He was yelling, his voice raising with every word he spat out.

"Draco, no one thinks that…" Amelia tried to reason, but she had clearly triggered something within him.

He was pacing again now, that wild look sparking in his eyes. "You have a better way to stop my nightmares? Don't you understand Amelia – I have blood on my hands! How else can I get rid of it if I'm not out there?"

She tried to protest but he couldn't hear her. She watched helplessly as he paced and shouted as a vein threatened to burst in his neck.

"People have died because of my actions – because of me! Dumbledore, Burbage! Anyone who the Death Eaters have hurt or tortured or killed – I have that Mark on my skin – my family's name – everything about me – I am part of that! Part of that evil!" He had pulled up his sleeve and was brandishing his scarred Dark Mark like a madman.

Amelia was speechless. All she could do was stand with her mouth open and tears streaming down her face as she watched the man she adored come undone.

"Look at you, Amelia! Death Eaters killed your father when you were only 17. And because of me you have lived a miserable, lonely existence ever since we got involved. You have been tortured, captured – almost killed, all because of me! I destroy anything I touch, don't you see that? So what else can I do except offer myself to fight? How can I stand back when all of these things are my fault?!" He was looking right at her now, a reckless abandon etched into his features. "All of this – he gestured to her and around the room – I don't deserve all of this! This sanctuary, these second chances, you… I don't deserve any of it! And everyone out there knows it as well as I do!"

"Enough!" Amelia said, slicing the air in front of them with her hand. She spoke with a measured voice. "Draco – I am my own person and every decision I have made is mine to own. Whether you were in my life or not my father still would have been killed, I would still live a miserable existence in this shanty town and I would still be in danger." She took tentative steps towards him as he tried to catch his own breath, his fists balled by his sides. "I choose to be with you – not in spite of what you think you are, but because of what I know you to be."

He shrugged off the comforting hand she had placed on his shoulder and was once again pacing the lounge room with heavy feet like lead, gathering his breath in deep shaking pants.

"Listen to me," she said more pointedly, abruptly darting in front of him to stop him in his path. "I do not see any of those things in you. I love you because of your bravery – to leave behind the only family you have in pursuit of doing the right things. I love you because when you were still a kid in school, your conscience made you question the beliefs you had been brainwashed to follow your whole life. I love you because of all you have sacrificed for me – for us – and because you have come out of it stronger than ever, all because of the power of your love. So please don't say that you don't deserve what you have – what we have – when you've already fought so hard to get here."

She had grabbed his shoulders at some point, forcing his far away eyes to connect with hers as she spoke, needing to pour her love into him to dampen the scolding wildfire inside his soul.

He didn't respond or give much indication he had heard anything she'd said, except for letting a look of defeat wash over his face and bowing his head, so that his messy blonde hair hung like curtains around his face.

"I can't escape them, Amelia," he said – his voice low now, husky and cracked from yelling so much. "These demons – they follow me everywhere. I see the life leave Dumbledore's eyes every fucking night, Burbage too. But not just them. Families who I've never even met, all of those who have died or been ripped apart by the Death Eaters. You – every time they've hurt you, because of me. I carry it everywhere I go, I can't get rid of it." His voice cracked with these last few words, desperation – almost a pleading – leaking out of him.

He slowly raised his head and Amelia was taken aback by the tears in his eyes. She had never seen him so vulnerable, so raw and open. Truthfully, it terrified her to see someone usually so enduring fall apart like this. She swore she could feel her heart shattering at the sight of him as he sunk slowly to the ground, trying to grip onto her with his bloodied hands but wilting like a dying flower until he was collapsed on the ground, his head in his hands.

"Draco…" Amelia dropped to her knees, trying to gather his face in her hands. He hid himself from her though, hot tears mixing with the angry sweat and dried flecks of blood on his face. She gulped down her own sobs and pulled him towards her, gathering the broken man into her lap and cradling his head against her chest as he continued to cry, his breathing now just choked, ragged heaving. She squeezed him to her and rubbed calming circles on his back. She allowed herself a small sigh of relief as she felt his hands, tentative and weak, slide around her middle to embrace her.

They sat as a crumpled heap on the floor, both bodies jolted by the jagged beats of Draco's heart-wrenching sobs. He fists were holding onto clumps of her clothes, as if she might somehow slip away in the wind. Amelia didn't know what to do, what to say. She felt his body melt against her as the time moved along, the tension in his arms start to melt away as fatigue set in.

Amelia put a hand to his head and stroked his hair, loving him so completely that it burned painfully in her chest. She tried to steady her own breathing and tried to find the words that could penetrate his dark and spiralling mind.

"Draco… everything that haunts you, all of these demons… You weren't responsible for any of that." She was relieved to see that he was clearly too worn out now to argue, so she continued in a smooth voice, almost a whisper. "You were manipulated into things when you were 16. You did not kill Dumbledore, or Madame Burbage. You have not tortured any families. You have never hurt me – on the contrary, I think I would be dead if not for you. All of these awful things in the world – the Death Eaters are responsible. You have never been one of them."

She felt his hand twitch against her back as she tightened their embrace even more.

"Having that Mark on your skin doesn't define you – your actions do. And you are a good person, Draco. Despite everything life has thrown at you, you have so much goodness in you. There is so much love in you Draco, and I hate that no one showed you what to do with that love when you were younger."

His heaving chest seemed to subside slightly as she spoke.

"I understand why you want to fight, why you wanted to go tonight. But, fight because when we win, you and I will finally get the future we deserve; fight because you believe in what we stand for. Don't fight because you think you deserve to be punished. Because you don't Draco – those demons are just your own thoughts, and that does not make them true."

She felt fresh tears spring from her eyes and pour down her cheeks, pooling at the base of her chin. He didn't respond, but she could feel his breathing gradually returning to normal and his tense shoulders melt into softness just a little bit more, and perhaps that was enough for now.

Amelia was not aware of time as she cradled her love, willing him to understand her words, her feelings. It could've been anywhere between a few minutes and many hours when Draco finally lifted his head – his face blotchy and his eyes bloodshot – and hugged Amelia with strong and familiar arms.