The bark of the fallen tree felt rough beneath his fingertips, its surface glinting with frost. His breath fogged the air as he breathed out slowly. It was cold, the chill of it sinking into his leather jacket and trousers; drops of dew froze on branches like glass and the wood surrounding him was hushed in a silence that only winter could elicit.

He knew the earth was the same, knew that the trees hadn't changed at all in the week since they'd been apart, but everything around him felt different. The very world seemed to have shifted. Everywhere he went, the phantom of the dead boy followed, and with it came the guilt, it hung off his shoulders, hurting and heavy, and painted his hands red whenever he looked down at them.

Mina. He repeated her name in his head, wondering how he would tell her, how he would be able to cope with denying her. He'd never wanted something as desperately as he wanted to impress her. The sound of distant footfalls broke through the silence and Edward looked up, his breath catching in his throat as Mina stepped into view. Her peach skirt was bunched in her small hands as she lifted it clear off the frozen earth. Her hair floated behind her in golden tendrils and her cheeks were flushed with the cold. He thought she'd never looked more beautiful, or more out of reach.

"I came as soon as I could," she said, trying to suppress a smile at the sight of him, pulling her grey shawl around her shoulders tighter. Edward stood hesitantly not trusting himself to speak. He had been so prepared, knew what he needed to do, what he needed to say, but her mere presence sent him reeling. "Things have been...difficult." He nodded, in the occasions that they had managed to meet she had spoken about the unrest amongst the magic users, had told him of her worries and dreams for a better world. Everything had felt so possible then, but now they seemed to crumble into dust, crackling into nothingness like the dead leaves that crumbled beneath his boots as he dragged his feet along the ground. Mina looked up at him, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. Edward was struck by the overwhelming urge to lose himself in the taste of her, his stomach knotting, as the thought took hold, and became difficult to ignore.

"Are you well? I have…" Mina paused, adjusting her shawl uncomfortably, embarrassment clear in the rigid set of her shoulders. "I have thought of you often." The words thrilled him in a way that no words ever had, and the longing to reach out and hold her grew to dizzying heights within him. The way he felt about her, it was almost easy to pretend he had known her forever and not the few months with which they had been able to meet. But it was, the reality of it held him back. With a sigh, he turned away, running his hands through his knotted hair, concentrating on the small tugs of pain, anchors holding him in reality.

"Have...have you not thought of me?" He clenched his teeth as he heard the uncertainty of her words. He wanted more than anything to have the strength to turn her away then, but instead, words of reassurance tumbled out his mouth.

"Yes...I mean, of course." He stopped, staring at the leather of his boots, searching for answers in the pattern of wear scratched across their surface.

"Edward?" Her hand fell onto his shoulder, and he turned into it, almost giving in to whatever embrace she would offer him. But the young boy's face flickered through his mind, wide lifeless eyes looking straight into him.

"I met with Tharin Morax yesterday," Edward spoke the words slowly, reluctant to utter them, knowing that, after this meeting, he would never see Mina again. Mina flinched, her hand lifting off his shoulder as if she had been burnt.

"But...but why? That man...he's a... a…"

"Monster?" He couldn't help but laugh bitterly, she had no idea how much of a monster he truly was. "I know, but I have my orders." He shrugged

"And that is it?" Mina's head fell to the side, waiting patiently for his answer, and he simply stared back dumbly.

"You make it sound like I have a choice." Mina nodded as if that was exactly what she thought.

"Everyone has a choice, Edward."

"What is it that you suggest?"

"I don't know, Edward, but you can't, you can't work for that man. What about the boy that saved you? What of his life, his sacrifice, it can't all of been for nothing?" Edward stumbled back at her words, falling heavily onto the fallen tree, as guilt stabbed him in the gut over and over. The force of it left him struggling for breath, tears stinging his eyes, he blinked them back and looked up at her.

"I cannot simply ignore orders given to me by my king," He pointed at his chest angrily, the action making Mina frown, "And I cannot just defy the most dangerous man alive and expect him not to hunt me down and kill me."

"Orders given by one man sitting in a high castle, are...are," Mina gestured wildly in the air, searching for the word, "folly. Fear of what one man may or may not do, should not dictate what is right and what is wrong." Edward laughed, her words so painfully innocent, he actually felt like crying.

"What is so funny?" She inquired, her arms crossed, eyes glittering dangerously.

"What is right and what is wrong." He laughed again, shaking his head. "Your ideals are commendable, Mina, but they lack substance. Whether for good or for ill, if I stand against Tharin, he will kill me." He rested elbows on his knees, sighing. "I do not know what world you live in, Mina, but it is not the same as mine." He muttered the last part, more to himself.

"How dare you." Her words were cold, and he looked up quickly. Her lips were pressed together with force, the action making them thin and pale. Edward stared, thinking of the little girl who had told him off all those years ago, wishing he had truly listened to her words, wondering if he had, whether anything would be different.

"I am not a child; how dare you treat me so."

"Tis, not you, but your ideals that are childish."

"Childish? Childish? You think that it is childish to have morals and stick to them, to believe that there is good in the world, to believe that they are weapons against men like Tharin Morax?"

"Yes," He answered, exasperated, lifting himself off the fallen tree and towering over her. She stood her ground, looking up at him defiantly, reminding Draco briefly of Granger. It was the same stance, the same haughty lift of her chin. He imagined he could see the volatile Gryffindor looking at him from Mina's green eyes.

"Do you not see, that, regardless of what I want, what I hope for, men like Tharin will always win."

"Only because men like you, let him." She spat it in his face, and he grabbed her arm before she could storm away.

"Unhand me, Commander." She struggled against him, huffing as he turned her back to face him.

"I want to believe you, I do. To believe that good could conquer everything and solve all our problems is…well it's a nice dream Mina, but just a dream. You stubbornly hold to this fantasy that will never come to pass."

"I would rather stubbornly stand for what I believe in, be known for my innocence than be branded a coward." Edward dropped her arm in shock, feeling as though the air had been punched out of his lungs.

"You have no idea, do you?" He whispered at first, volume rising with every syllable, "No idea what it's like."

Mina stared at him for some time, her eyes shifting away from Edward, glancing back the way she came. He almost wished that she would decide to leave of her own volition. Such a decision would make everything easier.

"Enlighten me then?" Her words were stern, but her face was curious.

"I made a vow, a vow to my king, that I would fight, till death, to defend his majesty, his kingdom, and those that inhabited it. I believed in it, lived by it. Every time I killed those that threatened the balance I felt as though I were fulfilling it. I was a hero, conquering lands and spilling blood, for, for something worthwhile." He shook his head, letting it fall back to stare at the sky; it was growing dark and the icy blue was slowly fading into inky darkness. "But it wasn't worthwhile, was it? I killed all those people; men, women," He faltered over children, choosing not to say it, the sound getting stuck in his throat. "I killed them all for nothing." He rubbed his hands across his face, "I know it, I'm a murderer, I am under no illusion that I am a good man. But if I give up all that I have lived for. Well-well then, it's true isn't it, and everyone will know. If I give it up," His voice cracked around the edges, the words paining him to speak, "If I give up my vows, what do I live for? When everything I want is…" He didn't manage the words out loud, but in his head, he screamed them. Everything he wanted was so wonderfully good, but so desperately out of reach.

"Is what?" she breathed, her voice full of wonder. Edward stared at the floor, tears shimmering, unshed in his eyes. He didn't want to cry, not again, but Mina had this way of opening him up, laying him out and flooding light onto all the broken bits of him that he'd hoped he could forget out of existence. He jumped slightly, as he felt her hands on his cheeks, soft and warm. They nudged the tears from his eyes and sent them spilling down his cheeks.

"Edward." She said his name with all the reverence of a prayer. "You don't have to do this." He tried to pull away, but her tiny hands held his face in place, her little finger rubbing against the stubble along his jaw. "You will listen to me, Commander," she said sternly.

"Mina, I have no choice. I'm a killer, it's what I do, all I know how to do. Where would I go? You want me to take war to Tharin? Fight for freedom? What is it you want me to be?" He was mocking her, he couldn't help it though, she spoke of things like there were no consequences as if he could just leave, and no one would care.

"Be with me," she said it with such confidence, with such certainty. He gulped, his heart hammering away in his chest, eyes widening as he took in her blushing face with wonder, realising what it meant, how she felt about him. The idea of it both enthralled and petrified him.

"I know I haven't seen all that you have or known the same horrors. But-but I know how I feel, and I know it is not a lie. You're a good man, Edward, I see that in everything you say. You care. A killer would not care. You have the heart to make a difference, you just have to believe that you are more than what a king's vow made you."

"You don't know what you're saying. You are young, you know little of me, my lady. You cannot possibly know how you feel."

"Do not presume to tell me what I do and do not feel." To emphasize her point she stepped closer, her chest brushing against his. "I know how I feel, Edward," their breath mingled together in the cold, "I may as well have known you forever." And then she was kissing him, her warm lips pressed against his with a fierce determination that was so Mina. He closed his eyes, relishing the feel of her, only letting them flutter open when she pulled away.

She was nervous, unsure, but standing her ground. And Edward wanted her, wanted her so badly it hurt. He slipped his arms around her waist, yanking her closer. She gasped and it tasted like hope, like goodness, and all the fragile little things he'd dreamed of since he'd met her. He slanted his head, deepening the kiss, desperate to taste more. He could feel her own heart beating wildly along with his, could feel the chill leaving him as her long fingers threaded through his hair. He shivered as she tugged at the strands. He wanted to hold onto her forever, but the guilt muscled between them, sinking into the tiny open spaces, and taunting him. The face of the dead child flashed behind his closed eyes, and he instantly pulled away, yanking her tiny hands out of his hair, and stepping back.

"I can't do this." His voice was hoarse as he struggled to catch his breath.

"I don't understand," Mina answered. Edward stared at her and bit back a groan. She looked incredible; her chest rising and falling as she sucked in air, lips red and swollen from the kiss, puckered in confusion, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes glassy, pupils blown till only a thin hint of green lay around them. He almost gave in and kissed her again.

"This," He pointed between them. "I cannot let this happen."

"Can't or won't." He could hear the anger growing in her voice again, and although he hated it, he knew it was necessary.

"Both." She recoiled, hurt tugging her lips down.

"But, why?"

"You are young, this is, this is just an infatuation, and I do not care for it." He winced at how unconvincing he sounded, he wasn't going to fool anyone, especially her.

"Young? We are almost the same age. This is not an infatuation, Edward, you know it isn't, you're a terrible liar." She was stepping into his space again, reaching for him.

"I am not lying." He tried again, his eyes begging her to just accept it, but she didn't. Her hands were in his hair, lips pressing kisses against his, with hope, with desperation.

"You are. I know you feel the way I do," she muttered, between kisses. He wanted to give up again, he knew it would be easy, and he knew she would follow him anywhere. She was right, of course, she was right. He cared for her more deeply than he had ever cared for anyone or anything. She was everything he wanted to live and die for, his new vow, and he had to keep her safe.

He gripped her shoulders, pushing her back gently but purposefully. "I killed a child, yesterday." He felt sick as he spoke the words, sicker when her delicate hands left his face and fell to her side. She searched his face as if she were looking at a stranger.

"What?"

"Tharin...Tharin ordered me to kill him, so I did." He kept his face stony, even as Mina began to cry, drawing away from him even more. He reminded himself, over and over, that it was the only way to save her.

"You're lying, you must be. You...you wouldn't do that, Edward. I know you."

"I stabbed him in the throat and waited till he bled out." Mina let out a strangled cry, her hand covering her open mouth. "You see, my lady, you do not know me, and I will not, ever, be with you."

"Why are you saying these things?" She sobbed, shaking her head and trying to reach out to him again, her fingers grasping pathetically at air when he stepped out the way. She stared at him for a long time, before straightening her back, her face seeming to harden with resolve. He knew it wouldn't take long, she was a proud woman, and grovelling and begging were well beneath her. His heart ached though, for he knew it was the end before anything had remotely begun and if she had begged, he would have given up in an instant.

"Very well, Commander, I apologise for wasting your time. Good day." And with that, she walked away. Edward watched her go, sinking to his knees and sobbing. He knew he would never get another chance with her, never be able to have the happiness he so desperately craved, but he figured he deserved it. After all the lives he had taken, he guessed this was simply justice.

Draco watched the floor change, quickly brushing the tears from his cheeks, and climbing to his feet. He rubbed his chest, wincing a little as his heart still ached with Edward's pain. It felt as if someone were going at it with the cruciatus curse. He glanced around, noticing that Hermione stood a little way off, her back to him.

"Granger?" Whatever progress he'd made walking towards her instantly stopped when she turned to face him. She looked a little like Mina had; lips red and swollen, flushed cheeks painted with tears, brown eyes glinting in the candlelight. She looked beautiful, the realisation punching him squarely in the gut and sending him reeling back a couple of steps. With wide eyes, she slowly lifted her fingers to her lips, as if she could still feel something there.

He wasn't an idiot, not by a long shot, but it took him an embarrassingly long time to work out why Hermione look so shocked, so worried. Once he'd blinked past the obvious shock of her looking attractive the whole horror of the situation dawned on him, sending him running for the door and into the dark corridors. He didn't stop till he reached the door to the dungeons, pressing his forehead against the wood as he let the reality of his situation sink in. He'd had an inkling, a tiny glimmer that something not entirely Slytherin was bouncing about in his head when he'd sat across the table from her and watched her happily demolish a bowl full of ice cream. Now he was sure, it was un-Slytherin, messy, and not something he'd ever thought of coping with, but it bounced around his head knocking every other thought away, till it was alone and glaringly obvious. Kissing the know-it-all hadn't filled him with terror, or disgust, not like it should have. Quite the opposite. For one queasy, unreal moment, he'd wanted it.