Author's Note: Once again thank you so much for the awesome support. Kind of a sad chapter we have here.

Chapter Three: The Big Fight

Anyone who has been in a relationship knows that the phrase 'we need to talk' means doom. My knees buckled and I was rapidly trying to compose some excuse while Charlie began with the small talk.

"How was work?" he asked all too calmly.

"Terrible as always. I would have rather spent the day with you." Isn't that the truth.

He motioned for me to sit down and I did, struggling to not seem tipsy. However I sobered up quick when he asked, "Why is it that we don't talk about things?"

"What do you mean? We talk about all sorts of things." I smiled trying to lighten the mood.

"No, we don't," his face remained dark. "We don't talk about England. We don't talk about your family. We don't talk about our childhood. We don't talk about thosesailors that come in off the coast. We don't talk about that ring on your finger. We don't talk about why you suddenly smell like cigarettes."

"Charlie!" I stood up agast. "What is wrong with you? This is completely out of character. What happened? You've never been like this before. You--"

"I don't want to be lied to!" he shouted. His hands were balled into fists. He was cracking like an egg. "I love you," he whispered hallowly.

"I love you too," I said, kneeling in front of him and taking his face in my hands.

He looked me in the eyes and covered my hands with his. "Answer my questions . . . please." I nodded even though I knew I couldn't.

Pushing my hands aside, he stood up and went over to his cloak, pulling out what looked to be a copy of the daily prophet. He placed it cover up in front of me. It was a copy six years old with a headline I havenever forgotten. Zarek Marlow Condemned to Life in Prison. The subheading read: Daughter, Alexandra Marlow succeeds as CEO of Marlow Enterprises. The photo was the most gut-wrenching part. There was Draco shielding a seventeen year old me from the photographers, one arm around my shoulders. Was I crying? I couldn't remember. Naturally, Lucius Malfoy was in the photo as well. No doubt their names were mentioned in the text.

"Is this you?" he asked calmly. I knew he wanted the truth no, he already knew the truth. He wanted me to say it and that was worse.

"Yes," I whispered. I told myself not to cry but truth be told, I was cracking just as much as he.

"You're a pureblood," it scared me how calm his voice was.

"I never said I wasn't," I shouldn't have, but being who I was, smart talk was in my nature, even if not in my interest.

"Why didn't you tell me you knew him? You lied to me. You were on the bloody front page with that family long before you ever met me!"He connected even more dots and it showed. "You knew I was a Weasley. All this time you had me thinking that you were . . ." he grabbed his hair and shook his head in disbelief.

"Please Charlie," I said getting up to my feet. "Let me explain." Surely, I could explain. If only he understood. I could make him understand! But before I could get another word out, he went off again.

"The ring's from him isn't it?" Charlie pointed accusingly to Draco's outdated photo. "Did you run from some pureblood arranged marriage or something or--"

"Yes!" I screamed. "I love you, Charlie.You don't understand. That was a long time ago. I love you."

He stopped and looked at me. Had it been enough? "I have so many questions. . ."

"I can answer them. Please! Just don't go, Charlie!"

He shook his head. It wasn't enough. "I don't even know who you are anymore. I have gotten your name wrong for years, haven't I Xandra? You're a different person here."

"Please, Charlie!" I cried, running to him as he walked for the door. But he was already gone by the time I crashed against it. I pressed my forehead against the wood. The tears burned against my cheeks.

I was so distraught that I didn't think about what I was doing. I ran to the balcony. My red-haired beau was walking hastily away into the night. "Charlie!" I screamed. I grabbed my cloak and apparated down to street level.

Everything looked different at street level and my watery eyes didn't help any. I saw a brief flicker of red hair going around the corner and I tore after it. What I sorry sight I must have been, running up diagon alley with my makeup smeared and looking a mess. Not to mention that my smoking hindered athletic ability.

Someone ushered him into the Leaky Cauldron. "Charlie!" I screamed. "Charlie, wait!" A pair of strong arms prevented me from running in after him. I struggled, calling his name but it was to no avail. I was pushed back.

"Stop it, Marlow!"

I finally looked to see who had been the one to stop me. Despite the tears in my eyes, I could clearly see that it was none other than Harry Potter. I wiped my eyes with the palm of my hand. "Let me go in, Potter."

"No," he said with surprisingly harshness. "I will not let you."

"Look, you don't understand now--"

"Understand? Oh I understand perfectly Alexandra and I won't let you hurt this family any more."

"What are you--" realization dawned upon me. "It was you. You bastard!" I screamed. I tried to hit him but he caught my blow with ease. "It was you who told Charlie! It was you who gave him that fucking paper!"

"You actually thought I didn't recognize you?" he said with a sneer. "You can at least be proud of the fact that you successfully lied to him for years."

"You don't understand," I snarled, ripping my hand away.

"What's there to understand?" he laughed mockingly. "You are a liar and everything you ever told him was a lie. You don't deserve to be with him."

"You are disgusting," I spat. "I never lied to you."

To this, he gave a hearty laugh that made me want to be swallowed up by the earth. "Oh yes, fabulous joke, Xandra. I am sure you loved me too. Which is why you disappeared off the face of the earth with Blaise Zabini only to send me mysterious letters every six months. I am sure you found it funny that I was so distraught I nearly strangled Malfoy after new year's in the corridor. Haha, joke's on me."

I stared at him. "Are you bloody blarmey? What are you talking about?" Sure I had left him without a word but it was he who had given me the strength to do so. Harry at been the one to give me the courage to leave all of it behind.

His face was dark as he said, "I hate you. Most of all, I hate seeing what you do to people. Your lies have finally caught up with you."

I stood there, struck into silence. "Time to make my exit, I suppose," I said, trying to keep my voice from cracking. "Tell him that I do love him."

Harry shook head and turned his back to me. "Unlike you, I don't lie."

"Harry?" he turned surprised at the use of his first name. What he got for his troubles was a slap across the face. It was so forceful that his cheek started bleeding where my ring had cut him. I hoped it hurt. I hoped it would scar.

I found myself walking London's dark streets with just a thin cloak and my tears. It was the most terrible feeling. After all the effort, all the time spent on building a new life, I was back where I started. No. This was worse. I had built a castle out of sand and now the tide had come and taken it all away.

I collapsed onto a bench, too tired to cry anymore. Who was he to tell me how to love people? Who wrote the rule saying I could only love one person? I stared at the ring on my left hand and wanted to cry. But there were no tears left so my face just scrunched up painfully.

From my cloak pocket, I withdrew a cigarette. Staring up at the stars, I smoked it slowly, trying not to think about any aspect of my life.

At some ungodly hour, Draco Malfoy was drawn from his warm bed and his warm blonde by hammering on the door of his office. Snarling with discontent, he threw on a robe and went downstairs from his apartment to see what the racket was.

He opened the door and instead of finding the police (as he might have been expecting) I collapsed into his arms, distraught and wreaking cigarettes.

"Ahem?" he turned to see the blonde he had just been shagging, on the stairs with her arms folded across her chest and an eyebrow raised.