A/N. I'm so sorry about the delay! I've had the worst case of writer's block ever and haven't been able to put pen to paper (or rather, fingers to keyboard). The mood to write has just been stolen from me.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY BEAUTIFUL BABY BOY, I LOVE YOU TO THE MOON AND BACK. MY PERFECT LITTLE REMUS *hearts*. I cannot believe he is one year old. It really is mind-blowing.

AND HAPPY NEW YEAR'S! Who are you kissing at midnight? *wink wink*

…~oOo~…

Chapter Fifteen: In Which They Become Runaways

"I've got a plan!"

Chelsea waited for Mag to reveal her plan.

"But it's secret," Mag said quietly, her eyes shifting around the room as if looking for spies.

Chelsea sighed. Mag had a flare for the dramatic. It was "Mag" now, actually. Margot insisted on being called the name Chelsea had accidentally christened her with and it really was there to stay. Chelsea would know. She saw it all in the future.

Chelsea's headache became a constant, dull throb in the back of her head. She could ignore it mostly, but once she started thinking too hard or seeing ghosts – she had decided they were ghosts, or at least she hoped they were – it got worse. And as Chelsea grew more tired and more drained, Mag seemed to grow brighter and more energetic. It was like looking straight at the sun for too long.

And part of Chelsea missed Adam. He was even more energetic and such, but at least he supplied the conversation all on his own. Mag seemed to expect responses.

Adam had been spending a lot of his time flying lately. He was pretty upset ever since the teachers announced they'd be going home. And it was only a week before Adam would go off to his side of the country and her and Mag would run away to wherever they went.

More than anything, Chelsea wanted Adam to come. But Adam had a family. He had an older brother and sister and a mum and a dad. Chelsea's father was goodness-knows-where, on top of the fact she was fairly sure she was losing her mind, and Mag's mother was the enemy. Adam had the chance at living a totally normal, Muggle life. Chelsea and Mag didn't. It was a sad truth.

"Come," Mag said, waving for Chelsea to follow. She did.

They walked to Chelsea's room and sat on the bed. Chelsea rubbed her forehead, feeling the throbbing worsen, but trying her best to pay attention.

"The next night that Malfoy comes to stay the night, we'll use the Floo to get to 'is flat," Mag said quietly. "The flat is warded pretty tightly, but there's an escape hatch for emergencies that lands us right behind the old bookstore in Diagon Alley. We can take the alleyways from there, avoid all the Ministry officials crawling around. The only problem is that I do not know my way around Diagon Alley. Do you?"

Sadly, Chelsea shook her head.

"We need a map," Mag said, biting the inside of her cheek. "Where could we get one?"

Shrugging, Chelsea considered this question. Where could they get a map of Diagon Alley without raising suspicion?

Then she had an idea.

…~oOo~…

The next day was their last workshop with the Weasley twins. They taught them how to make tiny fireworks that made animals like cats meowing or swallows fluttering around before burning out quickly.

After class, everyone filtered out, but Chelsea lagged behind and slowly approached the twins.

"Oh, no," Fred said dramatically. "This one. The deviously quiet one."

George smirked and said, "We're all out of Kissing Concoction, love, especially for you."

Chelsea felt a blush creep up her cheeks. "I'm… sorry."

"No need for apologies," Fred said with a shrug. "It was a brilliant prank."

"Yeah," George said, "reminded us of something we would do when we were at Hogwarts."

"Especially to wind Granger up," Fred said, nodding with a wide grin.

"You should have heard her ranting and raving after your little stunt, birdie. It was priceless."

"From now on, we are at your service."

In unison, the twins bowed.

Chelsea tried hiding a chuckle, but it came through. She shuffled her feet self-consciously and said, "I just was wondering… where I could get a map of Diagon Alley?"

Both twins made identical expressions of surprise, their eyebrows lifting up into their hair.

"What would you need a map of the Alley for?" George asked. "You're going home at the end of the week, aren't you?"

"I just…never got to see it. And I wanted to know what it's like." She glanced up through her lashes nervously.

"I'm not sure if I believe you," Fred said suspiciously. "But if you're lying, you're good at it."

George nodded. "This whole meek and innocent thing works for you. Just make sure to use it for good and not evil, yeah?"

"We'll have your map for you tomorrow," Fred said. "We'll come by and ask Granger for a haircut and give it to you then."

Chelsea smiled, a sincere smile. "Thank you, Mr. Fred, Mr. George." She gathered her things from her desk and ran out.

Crossing his arms, George turned to Fred with a knowing look. "She's running, isn't she?"

"Most definitely," Fred confirmed. "But who are we to stop her?"

"She's only a girl. Barely thirteen."

"She'd be safer wherever she's going than she is here," Fred pointed out. "If she isn't going back to her family, she has good reason not to. The least we can do is make sure she gets out of Diagon Alley safely."

Nodding, George ground his back teeth in thought. "Tracing spell on the map?"

"Of course," Fred said as if it were obvious.

…~oOo~…

Three nights later, Mag was just finishing up her homework in the sitting room with one of the older kids when Draco Malfoy came through the Floo.

"We'll be staying here tonight," Draco informed the girl without breaking step. He strode out of the room.

Margot grinned widely and threw her quill down. "Thank you, Nigel, I think I get it now," she said so quickly Nigel barely caught the words. She sprinted out, leaving all her books and homework behind.

…

That night, Chelsea and Adam were sitting up in their tree. Chelsea was lying on her back on one of the thickest boughs and looking up at the strange way day, twilight, and night melted together. The sun sat on one end of the horizon and the moon already hung high above the other, peeking out of an indigo cloud. It looked like a tray of water-paints had spilt together.

"I can't believe we're going home," Adam said, his voice uncharacteristically somber. "For two years, this has been our home."

Chelsea didn't know what to say to him.

"I'll miss you," he said, so quietly Chelsea wasn't sure if she was meant to hear it or not.

"We'll write," Chelsea said, the only thing she could think to say.

"It won't be the same," Adam said.

She couldn't argue with that. He was right. It wouldn't be the same at all.

"You have to promise to practice the Patronus charm Mr. Potter was teaching us," Adam said firmly. "I don't have it yet, either. But… if we can do that, we can send each other messages. That's what he said, didn't he? And he cast his first Patronus when he was thirteen… so we can do it too."

"We can't practice magic in the Muggle world," Chelsea said. "Professor Granger said –"

"Forget what Professor Granger said," Adam said harshly, climbing down from his limb above her and sat next to her feet on hers. "I can't lose you, Chelsea. I won't go day to day wondering whether you're okay or not."

"It's for our own safety," Chelsea said, sitting up and drawing her eyes away from the sky. "It's to protect us."

Looking disgruntled and frustrated, Adam said, looking at his dangling feet, "I'd protect you. If I was allowed to."

Embarrassed and shy, Chelsea said, "I know."

He looked slightly mollified and looked up at Chelsea. Quirking his head to the side, his eyes suddenly furrowed. "Have your eyes always been green?"

Confused, Chelsea nodded.

"Oh," Adam said as if he'd never noticed before. "I like them."

"Thank… you…"

And without a second of hesitation, Adam leaned forward and planted a quick kiss right on Chelsea's mouth. He was beet red when he pulled away and he immediately began climbing down the tree. He scrambled down like a monkey and then ran towards the house.

For a long minute, Chelsea practically shut down. She just sat there, her heart beating fast, her head rushing. She couldn't look at the ground, she would get vertigo. She blinked and blinked and tried to clear the madness in her head.

The thing that drew her out of it was Mag's voice from below. "It's time, Chelsea!" the older girl said with excitement. "Time to get our things!"

…~oOo~…

Smiling to himself, Draco listened through the door. No sound. Wait, no, there was a sound. Creaking, like someone shifting weight on the floorboards. Footsteps. She was pacing. Which wasn't a good thing, but at least she was awake.

Opening the door as quietly as possible, Draco slipped in, and found Hermione pacing in front of the desk in her bedroom, looking at her feet and mumbling to herself. She was so distracted, she obviously didn't see or hear him come in.

He sat on the bed and waited for her to notice he was there.

It took a solid three minutes.

Hermione gave jump, her head whipping around wildly, like he'd appeared out of thin air. "When did you get here?" she asked, astonished.

"A few minutes ago," he said. "You were in your own little world, so I thought I'd leave you there for a bit while I took a nap."

Pursing her lips and rolling her eyes, Hermione went to her desk and looked a paper. She sighed and then closed it in a book. "Didn't you have something to do this evening?" she asked, not looking at him.

"My father is supposed to visit me because I've been evading our weekly tea," Draco said. "He'll walk up to an empty flat and go home. He'll assume I'm out with Astoria."

"Margot is staying here?"

"Yes."

"That's good," Hermione said softly. "She and Chelsea should spend as much time as they can together before Chelsea is sent home." With another heavy sigh, Hermione walked over and sat on top of her duvet. "Only two more days before they're all gone, back with their families."

"Is that what you're fretting over?" Draco asked.

"Of course," Hermione said shortly.

"They're safer in the Muggle world and you know it."

"Yes, I know that," she snapped. "You don't have to remind me."

Raising a brow, Draco said curiously, "Why are you making me the bad guy?"

Hermione's scowl transformed into a pout. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to snap at you."

"What's wrong?"

Seeming to consider this herself, Hermione just shrugged.

Seeing that the conversation was going nowhere, Draco kicked off his shoes and stuffed himself under the covers. He held open the duvet and said, "Join me?"

Hermione only hesitated for a moment before taking off her socks and sliding in herself, responding when Draco wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her tight against his chest. She rested her face in his collarbone and when she took a deep breath in, she took in his dark, musky scent. It was very herbal, like a potions classroom.

"You'll miss them," Draco said. It wasn't a question. "You'll worry about them because you won't be able to contact them. You're wondering what you'll be doing when they're gone and there's no one to take care of."

Hermione nodded against his chest.

"You'll always be needed, Hermione," Draco told her. "And as for worrying about the kids… we'll do routine check-ins. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"I just have this awful feeling," Hermione said, "and I can't put my finger on it."

"If you want time to think, I can go."

"No," Hermione said, too quickly.

Draco smirked. "Do you want to sleep?"

Hermione didn't say anything.

Draco's smile only widened. "You have to tell me, otherwise the clothes are going to start coming off very quickly. Are you tired?"

Hermione grumbled something and turned onto her belly, shoving her face into her pillow and mumbling nonsense. Draco laughed. Conflicted Hermione was one of his favorite sides of Hermione. He got to watched her demons and angels argue with one another. The one side of her said that she was worried about the children and should sleep so that the next day she could get them packed and ready to go. The other side wanted the clothes to come off. And she was going to choose one, or the other, or suffocate herself with the pillow so she wouldn't have to make the decision.

"Tell me, Hermione," Draco whispered in her ear, moving so he was bent over her, moving her hair from her neck and his brush nosing the sensitive nape. "You have to tell me if you want to sleep or not."

"Don't make me say it," Hermione complained. "My dignity has taken enough of a beating for a lifetime."

"Your dignity?"

Turning her head on its side, one cheek smushed by the pillow, she spoke. "Good little bookworm of Hogwarts, falling into bed with a snake." She huffed. "My credibility as a Gryffindor is gone."

That made Draco laugh. "Good thing it's only validated my career as a Slytherin. One of us as least gets some House credit for this affair."

"Oh, God, 'affair'," Hermione groaned. "That word. And that's what this is. Merlin, it's enough to make me become a nun and never leave the convent."

"Let's not be rash," Draco said, his smile falling.

She flipped over onto her back and looked up at him. He was propped up on his arms, his knees on either side of hers. "Draco, where is this going?"

It was Draco's turn to moan. "Not this talk. Why ruin it?"

"It's important to me," Hermione stressed.

Draco paused and thought about what he was going to say. When he spoke, he knew it wasn't the right thing to say, but it was the truth. "I have to marry Astoria."

"I know that," she answered thickly.

"And I have to stay in the position I'm in," Draco went on. "As a spy. I can't back out now."

"I know that, too."

"Then what do you want me to say?" Draco demanded, getting frustrated with this game.

Looking in his eyes, Hermione pleaded, "Say you love me."

And Draco froze inside. His heart quickened and he was finding it hard to put thoughts into words. How could he explain that he did, but couldn't say it? Not yet. Those words were all he had to give to her – the only thing in the world he could give her – but he wanted to hold onto them for when he needed them. He needed to have then when she wanted to leave them. It was the only thing he had in his back pocket.

Even if he did say it, it didn't matter.

Reaching up to her face, Draco ran his thumb over her cheekbone and to her chin. He tipped it upward and kissed her mouth gently. If he couldn't say it, couldn't even find the courage to say it, he wanted to show her.

When he pulled away and looked down at her, she didn't look appeased at all.

All she had to say was, "After you marry Astoria… this is over. I won't be yours, or anyone's, mistress. Ever."

Something shattered in Draco, but he nodded before kissing her again. For the rest of the night, he pretended he could have Hermione forever.

…~oOo~…

"Ready?" Mag asked, obviously excited. Her dark blue eyes glowed.

It was the middle of the night and everyone else in the manor was in bed and asleep. It was the perfect time to make their escape.

Something was wrong with Chelsea, though. She felt it in her bones. Her head hurt and she was feeling nauseous. And she was beginning to see more and more often things and people flickering back and forth in her peripheral vision.

But Chelsea said, "Yes."

Together they stepped into the Floo, stooping their heads, and Mag through a large handful of powder. With only a word, they were off. They were officially runaways.

…~oOo~…

Draco woke up to Hermione sprawled over him and a banging on the door. Growling, Draco dislodged himself from Hermione – her breathing pattern didn't even break, she just kept sleeping – and went to the door. He threw it open and snapped, "This better be good."

Standing there in her nightgown was the annoying blonde one. The one who reminded Draco of himself. She looked bewildered and shocked to find Draco there in his shirtsleeves and wrinkled black pants.

"Spit it out," Draco snarled, wanting to get back in bed as soon as possible. He heard Hermione rustling behind him and if this girl woke her up for no good reason, so help him –

"It's M-margot and Chelsea," she sputtered. "They're gone."

"Gone?" Hermione said with groggy shock, sitting up in bed abruptly.

"They left," Yvette said. "Through the Floo."

Closing his eyes and gritting his teeth, Draco said, "Shit."

…~oOo~…

~ So Long And Thanks For All The Fish ~