Blaise Apparated Alurea into an abandoned house, laying her down on the floor.

"Rea," he said, patting her wet cheek. "Rea, wake up."

She wasn't breathing. "Come on, Rea," he said.

He cursed silently, pulling out his wand, placing it near her mouth. "Wingardium Leviosa."

Using the levating spell, he slowly lifted the water from her lungs, letting it splash on the floor.

Alurea jerked up, couching. Bliase placed a hand on the small of her back, helping her to her feet. "Are you okay?" he said.

"Am I okay?" she said. "Am I okay?"

She whipped away from him, an angry look on her face. "Why – you didn't tell me you were a Death Eater."

"I'm not. I ran away from that."

"Why'd you come to me?"

"Because I missed you. I missed you so much, Rea."

"If you wanted to see me than you shouldn't have brought all this . . . baggage to me! Death Eater's broke into my house! They kidnapped me! They . . . they freaking killed Cormac, Blaise! And now, we're on the run from Voldemort!"

"Would you have rather had me kill you?"

"I would have rather you leave me alone! You did it perfectly for three years!"

She stormed off, still limping, but angry enough to kill.

I was so horribly angry.

Not angry. Angry was not a good enough word,

I was damn right pissed the hell off.

. . . . But I knew I couldn't actually believe that this was Blaise's fault. He saved my life for Merlin's sake. I was scared though and angry and I needed someone to blame beside myself.

I stood from the toilet and looked at myself in the mirror.

Wow, was I messed up.

I went to reach for my wand but it was gone. Damn it.

So I had to use the sink like I used to when I never used to use magic and I washed my hair and my face and bits and pieces of my body where I was bleeding.

I'm not sure how long I stayed in that stupid bathroom (yeah, kind of stupid to stomp off when I didn't even know where I was), but when I came out it was still dark out (duh). Blaise wasn't standing in the hallway where I had left him but one of the doors that I had noticed was closed now.

I approached it and knocked. Of course there was no answer. "Blaise?"

No answer still.

"Blaise?" I said again. "Look . . . I'm sorry. What I said was hurtful and wrong. And I didn't mean any of it. And I wanted to thank you for saving me. And I wanted to tell you how absolutely stupid I feel for being so evil to you. And I wanted –"

The door opened and Blaise was standing there in a t-shirt and pajama pants. He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms across his chest. "And I wanted to get some sleep."

I frowned slightly. He didn't look like he had been sleep.

"I'm sorry," I said again.

He gave me a small smile. "I know. . . . Come here."

He held his hand out to me and I took it. He pulled me into his room and I followed. Now don't go getting ideas, you sick freaks. All he did was transfigure my dirty clothes into clean pajamas. . . .

And then he let me get in bed with him.

We didn't do anything I swear! We just lay there, my head on his chest and his arms around me.

"You know you're going to have to explain all of this to me sometime," I said.

"Yeah," he said. "I know. I will. Just I'm really tired."

"Me too."

"So let's just sleep, okay?"

"Okay."