Hello my lovelies!

Everyone seemed to feel the same way I did for Mary in the last chapter, SHE NEEDS A BIG HUG, Y'KNOW?

I'm currently ahead of schedule for the mental plan I have for getting to a certain point in FTT by the end of the year so YAY about that. Hopefully the muse will cooperate until I reach that point and onwards.

This chapter hurt my heart, but hopefully you all enjoy it x

Please leave a review and let me know what you think ;)

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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and only the story line and any OC's belong to me.

Flashback

Thursday, June 17th, 1976

"Evans!"

Lily picked up her pace, she did not want to have to deal with him right now.

"Evans!"

Persistent bugger, Lily thought, her jaw clenched with irritation, rounding the corner as quickly as she could—his footsteps hitting the stone heavily as he chased her echoed behind her, getting closer and closer.

"EVANS!"

"WHAT?" Lily yelled at the top of her voice, spinning around with fire and fury sparking at her fingertips.

James almost fell down in his haste to stop, keeping a safe distance between him and his fellow lion before she clawed his eyes out—which was a very likely possibility considering the venomous glower she was directing his way.

"I just—I wanted to say that I am an arrogant toerag—" James paused as if waiting for her to interrupt him, but when no response came he carried on swiftly with his little declaration, "—it probably doesn't mean a lot to you, but I went way too far that day...and—and I'm sorry that it ended the way it did."

Lily still didn't anything, her claws had retracted out of pure shock and she stared at James in utter disbelief.

James smiled awkwardly, fiddling with his hands as if unsure of himself, but gently he added on, "Hermione told me you're thinking of cutting your hair again—and if you want to it's completely your decision—but I think it'd be an awful waste since you have such beautiful hair."

Lily's brain stopped computing and she couldn't function for several long moments, so she ended up just staring blankly at James Potter: who after a few said moments smiled uncomfortably before backing away and vanishing around the corner from whence he came—leaving Lily Evans befuddled and twisting the ends of her hair between her fingers as she processed what had just happened.

"I can't do this anymore," Marlene murmured, and for a moment he thought he'd imagined the words, but he realised all too quickly that that was simply denial and wishful thinking.

She's laying back against his chest, nestled between his legs, but her hands were firmly in her lap and since the words left her mouth her body had grown rigid, tense.

Draco let out a heavy sigh through his nostrils. He knew this was coming—this distance had been building between them for weeks, and it had gotten to the point where they couldn't deny how vast the gaping canyon had become—regardless, he decided to play dumb. Even though he knew he was only prolonging the inevitable.

"What do you mean?" Draco asked reticently.

Marlene sat up and spun around to face him in a blur of movement, and her blue eyes were raging seas of anger and other emotions he couldn't define crashing against one another.

"Don't do that. Don't pretend that you don't know exactly what I'm talking about. It's insulting to your intelligence and mine," Marlene snarled.

"What do you want me to say, Marly?" Draco sighed in resignation.

"I want you to fucking talk to me! To tell me what's going on in your stupid head. You bloody wanker."

"The fuck are you talking about?" Draco asked, hating how his voice broke mid-sentence.

"You know things you shouldn't be able to, you know advanced spells that are way above NEWT level—"

"I work hard," Draco interjected, keeping his face as impassive as he could. Fuck.

Marlene's eyes only narrowed further and she continued, "—don't even get me started on your potions skills."

"Marlene."

"You disappear at weird times, you refuse to talk about when you were younger—"

"This again?" Draco said, reaching up to rub his temples.

"It's normal for people to talk about their past, it's normal for people to share things with their girlfriends."

"Marlene, there are—"

"Things you can't tell me, right," Marlene said bitterly, rolling her eyes.

He couldn't tell her.

"Salazar, Marlene, what the fuck do you want me to tell you?" Draco asked hotly, his calm facade cracking.

"What did you just say?" Marlene recoiled harshly, looking at him as if she was seeing him for the first time.

"I don't think I need to repeat—"

"You said Salazar," Marlene said, scooting backwards and standing up in one smooth, continuous motion. "You've never said that before. Why did you say it?"

"Cause you say it," Draco replied dismissively, standing up and closing the distance between them.

"Another lie," Marlene said, bewildered.

"Pardon?"

"I can tell when you're lying you git!" Marlene spat.

"Marlene—"

"NO! No more lies, no more secrets, I can't do this anymore," Marlene screamed—her voice ringing loudly as it pounced angrily from wall to wall of the small classroom.

Marlene shoved her hands into her hair and backed away from him: she wasn't looking at him—her expression having taken on an almost haunted quality—and very quietly she asked, "do you even love me, or was that just another lie?"

"Of course I love you, Marly," Draco answered immediately, the words heavy on his tongue as he balled up his fists.

I just can't be completely honest with you about everything, Draco thought silently.

"I thought you let me in, but you can't ever truly let me in can you? You're never going to be entirely honest with me...I can't—I can't be with someone who won't let me in." Fat tears are rolling down her cheeks—her hands slid out of her hair, onto her face and she furiously tried to wipe them away.

Tears were threatening to fall from his own eyes, but he refused to cry, refused.

The smell of Lavender and honey got increasingly potent by the moment, and Draco wanted nothing more than to go to her, to wrap her in his arms and never let go.

But he can't.

In that moment his feet were cemented to the stone floor, his tongue tied in knots, his chest constricted painfully and he stood frozen in place.

Draco witnessed the moment he knew it was over for good, the moment her eyes glazed over and she threw up an icy exterior, slamming walls down around her and barring her emotions from escaping anymore than they already had.

"We're done," Marlene said, tone as frigid as ice as she dried the last of her tears, regarding him as if he meant nothing to her.

He was nothing.

Marlene said nought one word more as she exited the abandoned classroom that they had spent countless evenings in, the door slamming shut after her with a loud bang.

It was only then that whatever invisible force that had been holding him in place melted away, and the first thing Draco did was pick up one of the rickety chairs a few feet away and hurl it with everything he had at the wall—the chair broke apart instantly upon contact, splintering and fracturing all over the floor.

Draco stared at the mess, falling to his knees and only then did the tears come, only then did they fly down his face like crashing, fierce rapids.

"Fuck."

With that the Marauders fifth year ended, and later when Hermione asked him what was wrong on the train ride home, he just shook his head and stared listlessly out the window—the landscape a blur of muted colours that flew past his corneas.

Nothing. Nothing was wrong.