Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Sorry it's been so long, folks. :) As a consolation prize—the longest update yet.

"Hayley," Flint breathed, walking over to the car, "You look positively ravishing." He held out his hand, allowing his arm to steady my wobbly feet exiting the muggle machine.

"Thank you, Dear." I smiled sweetly. I was right—I was happy to see him, somehow. And I was excited as he led me into the foyer of his home, right into the throng of mingling guests—excited; even though I realized I was being paraded as a trophy. More importantly, his trophy.

I always thought when this phase of my life would come to pass, that girlishly sighing in the arms of my suitor would be the most unbearable part.

But that night, in Flint's arms—I somehow managed to find it bearable.

"Excuse me!" Everyone turned at the sound of glass clinking. The Flints stood three steps up on their elaborate staircase—high enough for even the people in the farthest corners of the room to see, "We would like to make a toast."

From here, Mister Flint took over, "Thank you all for coming. Let us all rejoice the happiness we have come to face recently."

There was a murmur of misunderstandings, "Our recent victory—the death of Albus Dumbledore at the hands of Severus Snape!" People lightly clapped, a few more excitedly.

"To the upper hand we're waging in this war!" He added with vibrato, "Let's remember all of those we've lost—those we've lost as they fought the good war."

"But life goes on," Kristen interjected with a smile, "So let's end this toast—although I promised I wouldn't say anything—let's end this toast to a wedding in our future!" She excitedly babbled. The room clapped, and my cheeks blazoned as those turned to find the trophy that adorned Marcus' arm.

I didn't ever think I could possibly be comfortable in a situation like this. Receiving so much attention as the perfect soon to be wife of a man that I most certainly was more powerful than. Yet, in this moment—it felt right. I giddily saw myself in white, saw the wedding that was to come. And I wasn't even the slightest bit appalled. I was in bliss.

Or at least that is until a pair of piercing blue eyes caught mine from across the room. Eyes are a curious thing. Some believe that we can see into the soul of a person when we look into the deepest depths of a person's eyes.

Looking at Draco then, all I saw was jealousy and confusion, masked by rage. The deepest emotion that swam in his eyes (his blue eyes, not unlike the sea) was sorrow.

And there was a part of me; a part that felt as if it had been locked up that felt a pang of something when I looked at him.

"Darling, would you like another?" I snapped out of my reverie, turning to Flint holding a martini. Whatever thought I had been coming to, abruptly disappeared like a mirage. And I didn't think about it for the rest of the night.

"I still like the one from before," Mother cooed.

I froze, my outstretched hands looming back towards my sides, "Mother!" I hissed, "I can't wear that one."

"Why not? It's a gorgeous dress!"

"You would think so; seeing as you chose it." I rebuked, "However, that's not what this is about. It's about the situation. I can't wear that dress. Surely you can see that."

She huffed, "I suppose your point is valid."

I ignored her, and continued searching through the store. And then, before I knew it—or even realized it. I found the dress. I grabbed it, and excitedly ushered Mum, Blair and Emma towards the fitting rooms.

The fitting room attendant quickly helped me into the dress, and I hurried to the waiting area—it was the only area that had mirrors.

As soon as I saw my reflection—a tear came to my eye.

It was the dress.

With a sweetheart neckline—peeking down to reveal the slightest hint of lace, the bodice came down in a basque waist. The skirt was made of silk organza, elaborately falling around my legs.

"It's beautiful, Hayley." My mother looked like she was on the verge of tears as well, "I—" She rubbed at her cheek, "I—" She broke off again, "I'm so happy for you. And I'm sorry for what I tried to do."

I wanted the dream to go farther—to find out what she was sorry for trying to do. But at that moment I was awoken by a knock on my door. I sat upright, clutching my blankets to my chest—only too aware of the visitors I'd received as of late.

I let out a sigh of relief as I recognized Blair coming into my room.

"Hey—sorry to wake you; but Narcissa and Draco are downstairs."

"What?" I hissed, "Whatever for?"

"Narcissa didn't say much, but whatever it is has to do with your trip for Wednesday."

All I could think was Draco, Draco, Draco. I could feel my heart fluttering like crazy. I continued pushing the hair back from my face—looking up to see a house elf push past Blair with a tray. I had accustomed to receiving tea so regularly, that I happily took the cup from the disgusting creature and slowly sipped the steaming tea.

"I'll be down in a moment." I said, standing up, tea cup in hand and stretching. I wouldn't have time to shower, so I hurried over to my vanity, using magic to make my appearance manageable. I kept my hair smooth, pulling most of it back from my face. I only applied enough makeup to look presentable. I then hurried into my closet, selecting a pair of tight fitting dark jeans and a black tiered ruffle top, with tiny sleeves. I then slid my feet into a pair of red flats, that had the some rouching over the toes. I picked up a pair of onyx studs, and threaded them through my ears.

I finished by a last minute makeup change—swiping dark red lip stain over my lips.

"Ah, Here she is at last." Draco remarked when I entered the room, "It took you long enough." I was surprised in my reaction—coldness to his words.

I raised an eyebrow, my metaphorical feathers had been ruffled. "Don't pretend as if you get ready in a shorter span of time than I do."

He laughed—but the laugh wasn't warm at all. It was sharp and icy. "I wouldn't wager that. Things have changed, Bennett." He replied.

"Hush, children." Narcissa interjected, rolling her eyes. "Draco and I are going shopping today for clothes for your," she paused, "trip." She finished shortly, "Would you care to join us?"

Knowing that I didn't have the slightest choice in the matter, I dutifully agreed and shortly set off in a town car with Draco and Narcissa, speeding towards the leaky cauldron.

"Bellatrix and I were discussing your wardrobes this morning. We don't want the locals to automatically assume that you're a white hat. And let's face it, with the amount of black and red the two of you wear—it's going to be fairly obvious."

I surveyed my outfit, completely outraged at her suggestion. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that she was right.

I sighed in defeat, "So this means I'll be wearing pink?" I acted disgusted, but I was secretly thrilled. It wasn't like it was inappropriate for a pureblood woman to wear pink—it was just one of those things that had a certain situation that called for it.

"I'm afraid so, darling."

I hid my pleasure, "I suppose if it's for a good cause, I can manage."

She lightly chatted the rest of the drive about the stores that we'd frequent, and the image that she has in mind for both of us. I didn't pay any attention. I just stared at the countryside, rolling beneath us. I felt let I was letting something go. Something that I couldn't put my finger on. Something that the more I tried to figure out, the more my head swam with confusion.

I was thankful when Narcissa announced that we had arrived at our destination, and even more thankful to get out of such a small, confined space with Draco. Something about sitting so close to him was making me oddly uncomfortable. And from the look on his face, I couldn't help but see that he clearly returned those feelings. Only, I couldn't assume that he didn't have an explanation for his feelings.

Instead, I moved my thoughts to Flint. I was smiling to myself at the memory of his smile last night. That made everything better.

We first stopped at a new shop that had just opened—a tall brunette girl was the only shop attendant, and she hovered over a rack of shoes, straightening them with an unknown purpose.

I browsed the racks of women's clothes alongside Narcissa. I automatically reached for a black shirt—all it took was a disapproving glance from Narcissa to make me pretend as if I'd been headed for a pale blue cardigan all along. It felt strange—selecting an ivory tunic here, a yellow dress there, and so forth. Actually trying on the garments, and seeing myself in an array of pastels? Now that was the weirdest part.

Or at least, I thought it was until I actually began purchasing them.

At the next store, Narcissa had selected casual polo's and khakis for us both. The shirt that she had selected for me was in a pale pink shade, whereas Draco's was a pale blue. How gender generic; I thought as I made my way to the fitting rooms. It was hard to hide the excitement of wearing pink, though. I traded my black shirt, and dark jeans for the light khakis and the epitome of a good girl shirt. Cursing the shop for not having mirrors in its dressing room, I exited-seeing out of the fitting rooms, and seeing Draco casually standing there in his costume, I couldn't help but snicker.

He turned to me, raising an eyebrow, "Yeah?" He asked, "Well you don't look any better."

I scoffed, pushing past him and staring into the long mirror that faced us.

"Merlin's beard," I hissed, "I look like Granger."

"You're still beautiful." He sincerely offered. Usually something like that would have made me blush—knocking me off my feet, in the process. It was that and the combination of how the pale blue of his shirt perfectly complimented his blue eyes. That would have made me weak in the knees.

But this…it wasn't like that at all. Instead of wooing me, his words uncomfortably hung in the air. I stood, staring at him completely unable to comprehend any of my thoughts. It was like something—or someone didn't want me to.

"Well, you know what I mean," He began explaining. He was flustered, I could tell by the way that he shoved his hands into his pockets; innocently and ever so awkwardly not looking at me. "Just that it doesn't look bad."

I looked away from him—staring at my feet. "I'm uh," I cleared my throat. "I'm going to go change."

I hurried back to my fitting room, shutting the door and slumping against it. My head ached. I rubbed my temples, thinking about it all. Things were awkward still between Draco and I because of how I'd left seven years ago. That was all it was. We had been confused the last few days, that was undeniable. But it didn't mean that we felt anything for one another. He wasn't feeling anything for me—and I most certainly wasn't feeling anything for him because I was in love with Marcus Flint, right? Marcus Flint whom I was essentially engaged to. Whom I would be planning the rest of my life with over the course of the next few months. I liked the idea of that—more than liked, I was thrilled at the idea of such a handsome, strong man being my companion for the rest of my days.

That's what my head was telling me. My head found ways to rationalize it all. But my heart?

My heart pained at the idea. And I had no idea why. I concentrated, trying to figure out what my heart was telling me. It only worsened my steadily growing headache. It was like there was a brick wall—no a wall out of pure steel around the answer. And I didn't have the strength to fight it.

Instead, I hurried through shopping. After barely two hours, I was more than pleased to arrive outside of the floo powder gates—this would take much less time to return to our homes.

"Hayley, Darling. My stylist is coming over to do something with your hair styles. You don't have engagements this evening, do you?"

"No," I grudgingly but honestly replied. Grandmummy always said that lying was one of the most unbecoming traits a woman could possess, "I suppose that will be just fine." I watched them step into the grate, first Narcissa, then Draco. I debated on whether or not I should run.

I shook my head—not worrying about if anyone who saw. No one who mattered was nearby. I was so overwhelmed, so confused. My head felt naught but muddled.

I just wanted to lay down somewhere peaceful—perhaps my bathtub, or by (not in) the beautiful fountain in our backyard.

Instead? I dutifully followed them, seconds later through the grate, throwing ash to my feet and clearly calling, "Malfoy Manor!"

"It took you long enough to get here," Draco huffed. "You were probably off—"

"Draco Archibald. Don't be testy with me."

Narcissa laughed, rubbing her temples, "After spending the day with you I haven't the slightest idea how you're going to last a day together in America. Let alone two weeks."

"Two weeks?" We both thundered.

"Didn't you read the prompt?" She inquired. I wanted to smack myself in the forehead—I hadn't even taken it out of it's funny brown envelope. When had I actually had time, though? I was—and had been busy. It's not easy work being a pureblood princess; high in society, "I'm taking the stunned silence as a no." She lightly laughed.

"I would—I just haven't exactly had the time." I replied. "Between the Flint's party last night, and today, I haven't had an ounce of free time."

"Oh, it's quite alright—I understand perfectly, Dear."

"Wait. Two weeks? As in fourteen whole days?" Draco dumbly asked. I swear! And some people thought I was the more airheaded one.

"The last time I checked, the duration of a week was seven days. If you do basic arithmetic you'll find that two weeks would total to fourteen days. So yes, Draco. We'll be in America…together…for fourteen whole days." The look that crossed his face was a mixture of disbelief and dread, "Don't look so excited. I hardly can say that it's an enjoyment for me as well."

Narcissa bewilderedly looked between the two of us, "What's going on? Just three days ago—you two were completely inseparable. And now…well, dare I say it? Now you can barely be in a room together."

"It's nothing." Draco responded, "We're just not the same as we used to be."

"That was a fast change," She chastised, "And sorry to say this—actually, I'm not—you're going to have to put these aversions aside. The task is the most important thing right now. Without a strong army, we have no defense. No offense."

It offended me that she assumed that I wouldn't focus at the task at hand, anyway. Regardless of Draco. And my current aggravated feelings for him.

At that moment, amidst the awkward tension in the room a house elf entered accompanied by a thin, petite red headed woman. "Bridgette!" Narcissa enthusiastically greeted her, "I guess we better get started!" I could tell Narcissa loved a good scalp massage.

She walked over to me, her face scrunched in determination, "Well this one needs to go lighter—" She picked up a lock of my hair. Did this woman not have any respect to a person's personal space? It was probably because she was American. I doubted her name was really Bridgette in the first place. "She looks…well, evil with it so dark."

"With the clothes, is it really necessary for me to change my hair?" I asked. I didn't want to touch my hair with any kind of coloring potion! It was beautiful the way that it was.

"Well, it's just so distinctive on you—the mixture of the dark hair, the pale skin, the red lip stain; it's a recipe for story book evil."

I scoffed, crossing my arms haughtily. After the Draco comment and this, my temper was about to snap. And it's never appropriate for a woman's temper to snap in public. "Well what do you suppose I do to look like the perfect little white hat? I refuse to go blonde. And I'm not becoming a red head, either."

"But blonde is the spitting image of good—" She protested. I looked at Draco and laughed.

"Then Draco is more than enough blonde "goodness" for the two of us," I dramatically used air quotes, "I shouldn't have to use a potion to kill my brain cells to be able to competently serve the dark lord." I realized I was taking out my frustration, my constant confused state, and my abnormally large headache at the wrong people. Sometimes we all snap. I'm only human after all, "What all do you have planned for me?"

"Well, we need to lighten your hair. No offense but you look like a corpse." She shrugged unapologetically, "And maybe you could use a tanning potion lotion? Just enough color to make you look less dead."

Narcissa gave me a warning look, Ignoring 'Bridgette' I turned to her, "I'm sorry—you wouldn't happen to have anything for a headache?" I massaged my temples.

She nodded, "Bridgette, if you want to go upstairs and set up—that'd be great. Draco; you too! She can go ahead and get started. And if you, Hayley—just come with me and we'll grab something for that headache of yours."

I followed her out of the room, and into the little sitting room, she snapped her fingers twice, and a house elf appeared.

"Miss Bennett needs something for headache," She ordered, "See to it promptly." She gestured for me to sit down, and I did so.

"Is everything alright, dear?" I pursed my lips, unsure of how to answer.

"It's just so overwhelming being back, and all of the changes that my life has begun to morph itself with. I feel like I'm running in hundreds of different directions. And trying to keep up with it all is maddening." I slumped back into the sofa. Not caring that I wasn't showing picture perfect posture. Not caring that I wasn't being even remotely ladylike. A part of me found it funny that the only woman I couldn't open up to, or be honest with in my life was my mother.

"What do you want for yourself?" She asked, "Because that's all that matters."

"I honestly am not sure. I thought I'd have more time to figure this out."

At that, the house elf entered with a cup of tea. I felt like that was all I was drinking anymore. I eagerly took the cup, expecting that very familiar and bizarre herb. But that's not what I got. Instead it tasted like tea mixed with headache remedy.

"Oh dear." She murmured, "I was afraid this was going to happen again."