A summer breeze blew off the coast. Dahlia felt the heat on her skin. Her eyes fluttered open to behold where her dreams had taken her to tonight. She leaned over the silver railing and peered into the brilliant blue waves below. She turned around, realizing she might not be alone. She began creeping towards the stern of a pristine, glistening yacht with light feet as she feared that she might be heard. Goosebumps rose as she sensed his familiarity. She halted before turning the corner and pushed her back against the wall. She forgot the beast lurking could also sense her presence.
"Hello, Dahlia," he sighed.
She glanced around. It dawned on her that there was nowhere to run, unless she made a jump for it into the sea below. She looked over the railing again as she calculated that she was on the third level of the yacht. It was a far jump — and if the splash didn't wake her from the dream, she would have to swim to the shore in the far distance. Who knew the sea monsters their subconscious minds may have conjured into existence in their shared dream space.
She exhaled in dismay as she submitted to him. She threw on a cool demeanor and turned the corner, slowly strolling across the sun deck. Draco was seated under a shaded table fit to entertain at least fifteen people. The Daily Prophet obstructed his shirtless, tanned chest from her view. Sunglasses were perched upon his silver hair. An expensive watch remained locked around his wrist as if he couldn't be bothered to remove it even with the looming threat of water damage. He looked up from his paper with a lax expression as she approached.
"Would you like to sit with me?" He was pleasant and sincere. His lack of mockery unsettled her. The change in attitude from their last encounter in the Room of Requirement gave her whiplash. She thought he might even spare her a smile by the way the corners of his mouth danced when he spoke.
"No," she answered bluntly.
She leaned and grabbed a bushel of grapes from the breakfast spread and sat on the edge of the table, only partly facing him. She peered at the rocky coast just beyond.
"Where are we?" She popped a grape into her mouth.
"Greece, I would bet," he answered with indifference. She wondered what it must be like to be so well traveled that stunning sceneries became mundane.
She faced him as she felt his gaze lingering on her exposed skin. She was in a black bathing suit with nothing but a sheer, black button-up shirt draped open. The salt breeze left it hanging off her shoulders. She glanced around curiously and raised her brows, noting an impressive pool and loungers ahead.
"Whose boat is this?" She placed her hand behind her on the table and leaned back comfortably as if it might as well be her own.
"It's a yacht," he stated matter of fact, correcting her ignorance.
She only smirked, knowing the incorrect term would get under his skin. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes as he realized her clever intentions to annoy him.
He sighed and folded the paper onto the table. He leaned farther back into his seat as he leveled with her. "It could be yours, I suppose. Dahlia Malfoy has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" He shot her a cheeky grin.
She snorted. "I think Dahlia Nott sounds better," she replied smugly as she inspected her manicure. She enjoyed bantering with him. It reminded her of their fated weekend away in the caves.
He crossed his arms in amusement. He angled his head dubiously. "You would marry him one day?" His tone was light, but he sat straighter — a menacing undercurrent couldn't be missed.
She nodded emphatically at him with a teasing grin. He looked down, shaking his head with a sly grin.
The sudden thought of Theo, whose arms she was laying within now, sobered her playful demeanor. "You shouldn't be here," she sighed.
He glanced back sharply. "This is my dream, Dahlia, and my yacht. Neither should you." He shook his head in disbelief at her hypocrisy.
"I can't help it," she said in her defense. She couldn't, she didn't know how to not dream, or control them.
"Neither can I. I don't wish to avoid you any longer here. Your note..." He pushed his tongue against his cheek as if submitting himself to his own feelings. "I quite missed you, even though I..." His voice lowered with doomed melancholy.
She winced as she watched him struggle for words — struggling to show her unprovoked kindness. The cycle was exhausting; he was exhausting.
There was a long pause as Dahlia refused to extend him a lifeline. She turned her attention downwards, fiddling with the pearl buttons of her shirt.
Draco wanted to say so many things. He wanted to apologize again for his actions but he didn't know how many times he could say he was sorry before she grew sick of it. Before his contrition meant nothing to her. Hindsight was continuously cruel, and he hated himself for refusing to learn its lessons. He shouldn't have intimidated her in the Room of Requirement. He shouldn't have walked away from her on that blasted carousel. It had only dawned on him then that he didn't want her physical touch if it came without her love. It only made his crooked love for her even more awful. He wanted all of her, not pieces.
He watched her bring her legs to her chest and rest her chin on her knee. Her wide eyes found his, requesting explanations. He rubbed his forehead, pleading for her to say anything so he wouldn't have to answer.
His heart beat picked up as his composure deteriorated. He shouldn't have ignored her and worse, pushed her around. He shouldn't have called her a coward, an idiot or worthless; nor should he have said that she was beneath him. As he tallied up his offenses, he became defenseless. He had waited all those weeks like she had something ghastly to apologize for. Her only crime had been kissing him, her forced soul-bonded monster, and then returning to Theo — the partner she had chosen who was far more patient and devoted than he had assumed capable of. Theo changed for the better while he remained stagnant and immature. Eloise was right, he was entitled and had done no small thing to earn her love. He had walked away, letting her enter the starlit pool alone and only returning when he heard her frantic gasps. He had chased her into the woods for his own selfish reasons, demanding she hear how he felt. He had only berated her out of his own bitterness because he knew she was permanently bound, unable to walk away forever. As the truth unraveled and he finally faced its terms, he still stumbled on an apology. The words wouldn't come out.
"I would set you free, if I could," she finally muttered. It was her truth, becoming. She was tired. Theo's search to break their bond grew more and more tempting.
"It wouldn't matter if you did." He shook his head. He would always love her, even it was only securely bound to the regret of what could've been instead of her.
"Draco, I've also seen one possibility of a life with Theo, too," she whispered quietly as though it might bring him peace to move on. She had meant it as consolation that she wasn't his only option.
The fissure in his heart deepened. He read between the lines, that he wasn't as special as he once thought. That she would risk a million happy endings with him for the single thread of time where she might end up with Theo. A life without her was inconceivable. Children raised in horrors still dreamt of happy endings. Maybe if he had been taught to love properly, he would be everything she dreamed. He wanted to learn.
He tugged on the celestial tether between their souls for comfort. He watched her shift uncomfortably. It left a bitterness in his bones — she was so ungrateful for this sacred connection that a million lovers would have died for. He roiled in self-hatred that he had made this tether so intolerable to her. They were precious — a singularity amongst billions of heart beats, yet she would return him carelessly like an ill-fitting sweater if she could. All because he had acted insufferable for far too long.
Dahlia peered at him with kind and worried eyes. He broke at the guilt of it all.
"I don't know," he sighed. He threw his sunglasses off and ran his hands through his salt-waved hair in exasperation. The table shook as his fist came down. She jumped in surprise at his sudden action and show of emotion.
"I don't know how to be something you love back. I think the Fates made me indecent if only so I could tolerate you being in love with someone else. I don't know how to not be awful for you. I don't know how to make you care that I'm sorry, yet again."
Her gaze softened. It tore at her to see him in such a state of agony. Her heart would always pull to him and she had promised to be his tether in the darkness.
"Draco," she sighed. She smiled at him gently as if she knew all. She crossed her legs and sat fully before him on the table. She leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees. He glanced up from his chair, and into her beautiful eyes as if he was praying to a godly statue for guidance in a temple — only this temple was a yacht, bought and earned through filth and oppression. He was a far cry from a godly man and decent morality.
"You know, I think of that look on your face when I kicked you down the hill in that goblin cart more than I would care to admit." She sighed nostalgically. "You looked happy, untormented."
She took his hand and brought it to her lap, exposing his mark of the Dark Lord. He tried to rip his arm from her as he watched her bring her fingertips to it. She held him firm as she circled the ink with acceptance he didn't deserve.
"I've missed you. I miss that part of you." She shook her head. "Can we not have that back?"
She looked up at him with hopeful eyes.
"Do you not love me, at all?" He murmured. The question formed itself from his own self-hatred and her sweet actions. He could never bring himself to ask such an unguarded question outside of their shared dreams.
She looked away from his intense gaze. She clenched her jaw tightly to straighten her expression into something more unreadable. She didn't want him to see the truth. That she did love him either by the Fates curse or for what he could be, what they could've been. She realized though, that it wasn't enough. She knew there was nothing sweet to be made in the real world.
"You know how I feel," she answered sternly.
"What a frivolous answer," he laughed darkly. "Say it then." He had meant the words to come out as a daring threat but they had only landed as an awful, desperate plea to say the opposite.
"I hate you," she answered smoothly.
He tilted his head in amusement. "I hate you, too. Doesn't mean I'm not also madly in love with you."
Her heart mis-stepped. To say it so casually after his constant bullying was savagery. In her most forbidden daydreams, she had only ever wanted him to pray the words against her bare skin.
"I don't," she said sharply. She looked away, afraid to watch the heartbreak in his eyes but more terrified that he might see her own. "I don't love you," she answered coldly. "How could I?" She wiped her nose.
He stood and shoved the expensive china plates to the side in one fluid motion. She didn't blink at his violence. She had grown so used to such outbursts. He slid her forward, closer to him, and gently cupped her face so she might look at him. She didn't fight it. She was secretly grateful for his touch to soothe her own secret ache. To admit it, would mean to doubt her love for Theo.
"Would it be different? If I had been the one to notice you in the carriage instead of him?"
"Don't bury me with what-ifs," she scoffed.
She finally shook herself loose from his grasp and hopped off the table, sliding her body against his. It made her heat, but she ignored her troubled thoughts as she pushed him aside. She needed space immediately.
He watched her walk through the doors of the cabin. She emerged a moment later with a bottle of fire whisky and crystal glasses.
"Dahlia, I'm sorry that I walked away from you — on the carousel," he blurted.
He couldn't make himself say that he was sorry for walking away a dozen times on many occasions. Dahlia only dismissed his words with a wave of the liquor bottle. She didn't seem to care. Maybe his apologies had already run out, he thought.
The truth was, she did care. She just couldn't bring herself to unpack what they had done — how she had betrayed Theo. The only thing she could think of when she glanced at his hands is how they had felt moving against her. It made her blush to think he had seen her come undone, breathed in her hot moans into his own mouth. An intimate revelation that she wished she could erase from his mind.
"Shall I pour you a drink?" She asked as she set down the two glasses on the table.
He noticed her shaking hands as she poured the liquor despite her unbothered front.
She clumsily tossed the bottle back on the table, sloshing it over the top. She bumped into him as she reached to prevent it from spilling everywhere. He steadied her by placing his hands on her waist. She shot him a desperate, questioning glance that conveyed every sad truth and awful fear she was too afraid to say. He only brushed her cheek and nodded, confirming that he would never leave her — that he would go around in endless circles with her forever. He exhaled in contented defeat as he gently rubbed the center of her back to comfort her.
There was a silent truce between them. The emotional exhaustion from taking one step forward and two steps back in a tireless loop had become too much.
"What else are we going to do in this fucking place?" He asked sarcastically.
He leaned against the edge of the table as she handed him a glass.
"To Theo, may he find some fucking peace. I know I won't," he chuckled, grinning like a fox as he gulped his drink.
She smiled as she realized that she hadn't heard him laugh in ages. She shoved him playfully as he took out a deck of cards from his pocket and threw it down on the table for them to play.
"To us, horrors amongst men," she grinned mischievously, raising her glass to the death eater by her side. He grinned back at the Divine monstrosity before him, the worst of them, as he watched her sip delicately from his glass.
Dahlia woke up upon Theo's bare chest. Her eyes drifted open as she listened to the beat of his steady heart. She wanted to capture this moment and save it forever so she may revisit it. She lifted her head up to see if he was awake. Of course, he wasn't. He had always opted to sleep later than her after a night of drinking. She shifted in his arms to check the time on his discarded watch placed on her nightstand. It was almost ten o'clock in the morning. She noticed Juliet and Lucas were still asleep, but Eloise and Xavier were nowhere to be found. She went to place his watch back on the nightstand and noticed curiously that her journal had been moved. She thought little of it. She turned back and placed her arm above Theo's head which was rested amongst her fortress of pillows. She played with his tousled hair and gently rubbed his temple.
"Babe, do you want to wake up?" She whispered into his ear.
He groaned and fluttered open his eyes. He didn't know it, but she thought his eyes were hooded the most seductively when he was sleepy.
"I love you," he murmured with a lazy grin.
A strong feeling of desperation possessed her — a feeling to keep him close.
"I love you so terribly much. Please, never leave me," she blurted in a desperate mumble.
He seemed unbothered like her crippling anxiety was nothing new. He shifted as if stretching before pulling her closer. He wrapped his arm around her waist, lightly tracing the hem of her underwear beneath her shorts.
"Why would you say such a thing, my love?" He sighed as he fought the haze of his hangover. He met her eyes as he played with her hair.
"I-I don't know," she answered unsettled.
"Don't let your anxiety get the best of you." He paused and narrowed his eyes with concern. "Did something happen?" He tilted his forehead against hers.
"I'm dreaming of him again," she mumbled as she played with the hole in Theo's shirt that she had slept in.
She let the half truth out of her mouth, lifting some of the weight briefly off of her shoulders. She had never hated herself more for keeping the rest of the truth within her. She knew somewhere in her heart that she loved Draco, and that was a more awful truth than how he had touched her.
She felt his breathing pause beneath her. She met his eyes nervously.
He brought his hand to her cheek, "Nevertheless, my love is the same for you." He nodded. "We'll sever it, eventually."
She felt her face heat. She was suddenly holding back tears.
"Come here," he soothed as he noticed her welling eyes. "Don't cry, darling. I'm not mad."
He pulled her fully into his chest. He felt her hot tears against his biceps.
"I don't want to be this. I don't wan't to hurt you. I don't want to die, Theo," she mumbled.
He listened to her pleas with shaky breaths. They were reducing such an ugly conversation to hushed murmurs as their friends slept nearby.
"Dahlia, most can only play the cards they were dealt. You can shuffle them, if we dared. Take comfort in that."He rubbed her back gently. "We also did drugs last night," he quickly added.
"I know." She slapped his chest. She was experiencing the bone-crushing come down.
"I think you'll feel better once we get you some breakfast," he murmured. Regardless, he held her until she stopped crying.
Dahlia went to take a quick shower, leaving Theo with his thoughts. He twirled his new ring around his finger anxiously. He also had a pit in his stomach. There was nothing he could do about Draco reappearing in her dreams at the moment. He didn't want to know what they did in the middle of the night. It made him nauseous. He'd rather live in denial of the truth. He only hoped his brother could help him find a solution sooner than later.
There was no worse scenario than embarking through the Forbidden Forest during the witching hour on a moonless night. Theo knew this, yet he only gripped his cloak tighter and dredged deeper into the wood. The light of his wand illuminating the compass within his hand. He had gambled, assumed his brother had wanted to meet tonight. He hoped he knew his brother well enough to guess correctly, but he wasn't so sure anymore. It had been years since he had last seen or spoken to him. He was nervous with anticipation.
He halted as he reached the precise coordinates, his breath freezing in the air as he exhaled. He gazed upwards to the ancient trees where the owls exchanged hushed warnings that a predator stalked below. He leaned against a massive boulder as he spun his wand nervously between his fingers. Theo flicked the light out. The crushing darkness blanketed him. He waited.
"Still one for dramatics, I see?" A voice carried to him between the bare branches. It was neither recognizable nor stranger, but somewhere in between. It frayed the edges of his memory.
A light illuminated a questionably familiar face. It would have stopped him in the streets for a double take. His heart warmed, and he suddenly wasn't freezing anymore. He lowered his hood.
"Alex?" Theo called, breaking the eerie silence of the forest. He knew better than to yell in the wood at night but he couldn't help himself.
His brother walked forth cooly and embraced him. He hugged his brother back tightly. Theo couldn't find a smile. It was a surreal moment. Alexander glanced over him in the sparse light.
"You're taller than I thought you would be," he spoke in a voice that was much deeper than Theo knew. Something close to regret flickered across his brother's face. He had been a kid when he had left. He imagined Alex must have been reeling to see something closer to a man standing before him. Theo awkwardly put his hands in his pockets, unsure of how to respond.
"You look well," Theo finally answered quietly.
He meant it. Alexander was tanned and strong. His own curls, darker than his own, cut cleanly on the sides. His cheeks had somewhat hollowed out from his boyish days, but his eyes remained round and calculating like he remembered — like his own.
"I can't believe you came," Theo said in disbelief.
"All you ever had to do was ask, Theodore," his brother sighed.
"Father is in Azkaban. They captured him in late Spring."
"I know." Alex glanced around cautiously as if checking if Theo had come alone before discussing such topics.
"Do you think I lived under a rock? On a far continent?" Alex grinned with sarcasm.
"Well, I don't know, Alex. You might as well have." Theo began fidgeting with his wand, spinning it between his fingers again in an attempt to contain his emotions.
"I'm sorry, Theo. I was grieving. I know it wasn't fair to you." He paused debating if he should speak his next words. "Then I didn't know who I could trust anymore."
"What do you mean?" Theo narrowed his eyes as the one person, who he once would put his absolute faith in, questioned his loyalty.
"Show me your arm," Alex demanded softly as if the question pained him to ask.
"I'm not a death eater," Theo spat. He shoved his sleeve up beneath his cloak to reveal bare skin without hesitation.
"I know you practically live with the Malfoys when you are not at Hogwarts." His tone was still skeptical.
"If you are so knowledgeable, you would know that I'm now living at our abandoned home."
Theo stepped back to distance himself. His irritation was beginning to physically manifest, but he didn't want his brother to think him brash and impulsive, as well. While he knew Alex had always been against pureblood supremacy, he wasn't used to seeing his open distaste towards it; towards him. Maybe he had always felt this strongly, and he hadn't seen it. It was a sour, biting reminder he had left when he wasn't yet old enough to grapple with the harsh realities of the world. Theo started to have doubts about his brother's willingness to help him.
"You live there alone?" Alex raised a brow at him.
"If I must," he answered in a cagey manner.
"What happened?" His brother asked with a hint of brotherly concern below his outward relief that he wasn't a death eater. He knew him and Draco had been close for most of their lives.
"That's not why I've asked you to come." Theo shook his head and paused. "You made this, did you not?" He spun the time turner placed on his middle finger.
Alexander nodded. He leaned against the boulder exactly as Theo had done earlier and waited for him to continue.
"I've been attempting to reverse engineer it. I want to know how you made it." He spun the ring casually around his finger. He didn't dare to take it off in case his brother stole it back.
"Are you attempting to make another?" Alex questioned.
Theo ran his hands through his unruly curls and paced.
"Not quite." He began talking animatedly with his hands, "I'm attempting to craft something that can send oneself outside of time altogether, where all timelines may exist."
He removed the bone ring Dahlia had forged for him with her own blood and essence. He had never been so grateful for her own cleverness.
"I think I can leverage the energy that would require such a jump from this." He grinned wildly. "Time and blood, they create the ultimate life force, it's linked."
Alex reached for the ring. Theo was hesitant to hand it over. He didn't quite remember his brother as how he appeared before him now. The trust was strained between them.
"You can trust me, brother. I've kept your secrets, remember?" Alexander nodded.
Theo finally handed him Dahlia's ring. Alex tilted his head at the peculiar object and held it up to the nearly invisible moon. The silver starlight from inside the band whispered sweet nothings as it had been freed from Theo's hand and reunited with the blackness of the night.
"What is this? Have you been practicing dark magic?" Alex asked cautiously. He had never seen such a thing.
"Not lately, no. It's ancient, pure magic. Divine, holy — however you want to cut it." He rolled his eyes. He only believed in Dahlia, a force he had witnessed and worshiped in his own wicked ways.
Theo motioned to Alex to hand it back.
"It means a lot to me," he added. He didn't want his brother to think he could go off and tinker with it.
"How did you get it?" Alex handed it back as a show of trust.
"It was a gift from someone powerful — Not the Dark Lord." He shook his head and added quickly. "Quite the opposite," he laughed low to himself.
Theo noted the answer seemed to please his brother. His posture relaxed a bit as he placed a foot on the boulder he leaned against.
"How do you even know there are multiple timelines, Theo?"
"I'm sure of it. You have to trust me." He nodded with absolute certainty but he wouldn't share Dahlia's secret unless given permission to do so.
Alex began to pace as Theo finally stilled.
"What do you wish to accomplish, Theo? Nothing good comes from meddling with time at extremes. Who knows the impact of this scale? It could be cataclysmic." Alex seemed worried but intrigued.
"I need to fix something," Theo said desperately.
Alex cut his eyes to Theo sharply and stopped in his tracks.
"You can't undo it. We can't bring her back," Alex whispered.
Theo hadn't realized how it sounded — that he might wish to bring his own mother back. He felt a wave of guilt that he hadn't even considered it.
"I know that. It's not mum," he responded quietly. He put his hands in his pockets as he was afraid he was revealing too much now.
"It's for Dahlia Aldair. She's done something horrible with blood magic that needs to be undone."
An obnoxious grin broke across Alex's face. He laughed harshly. "Devereaux's daughter, the spawn of the devil who rules the ministry's underbelly?"
"So there is truth to the whispers?" He shook his head incredulously. "You know there are also whispers that Devereaux is dealing her hand to the Malfoys? She's conning you, Teddy." He paused and laughed awfully as he ran his hands through his dark hair.
"Is that why you two aren't friends anymore? Gods, did we have it wrong. We should have known it had nothing to do with allegiance and everything to do with a lover's quarrel." He laughed as if he had devoted way too much time to this ridiculously easy riddle.
Theo scowled at the mention of the rumors regarding Dahlia marrying into the Malfoys. Draco wouldn't be that stupid. He wouldn't risk her rage and losing her trust if he had it. The tabloids loved to match make, especially now that they were growing older. Plus, he also knew Dahlia would never consider it, and Devereaux planned to keep her for himself if only to kill her slowly. He clenched his jaw in hatred. If anything, the rumor might be a distraction from Aldair's true intentions.
"Who is 'we'?" Theo asked in annoyance. He stood tall and rigid. He didn't want his brother to think he could push him around.
Alex stood in silence as if contemplating if he could share a truth.
"Our blood is beyond allegiances, is it not?" Theo stated raising a brow.
"I'm an ally of sorts to the order opposing the Dark Lord. I lay in the shadows, which is why you have not heard from me in some time." He let the wind carry the last of his words gently.
Theo bit his cheek and glanced around not meeting his brother's eye. He remained stoic. He realized allegiance was a water that might be thicker than blood, after all — at least to his brother it was. He had chosen to abandon him with their wretched father for a band of misfits. A spiteful fury pushed against his heart. He wanted to scream to Alex that of course he had chosen to spend his time with the Malfoys. At least they were gracious hosts and Lucius didn't beat their guests.
"Well, was that supposed to surprise me?" Theo asked cooly.
His brother sneered at his arrogance and the belittling of the upcoming war. "What do you believe in then, brother?"
"Myself, mostly. Good? Evil? It's all the fucking same to me. That shouldn't be a surprise to you, either." He kicked a stone as he stepped forward. "I believe I need to keep the people I love alive — for once."
Alex didn't respond as he absorbed Theo's answer. He wasn't surprised in the least. Theo was never a team player at heart, as much as he wanted to play the act and pretend. Theo leaned more into his darker tendencies, more often than not. He had been an insufferable and inconsolable child when he was born.
Theo continued in exasperation, desperate for his brother's help. "They're going to kill her, her father or the Dark Lord. I can't tell you much more."
"Do you not trust me whole heartedly?" Alex questioned back, annoyed he had shared his secrets, and the courtesy wasn't reciprocated.
Theo nodded. "I do, fully. It's just not my truth to tell. I just need to speak with Dahlia. She isn't aware that I'm here."
"I would prefer you keep it that way. I don't want an Aldair knowing my presence was near," Alex quipped.
Theo was quiet. He knew his brother just needed time. He needed to meet her. He would trust her then, too.
"I'll help you, Theodore." His brother sighed as if he was committing to something impossible.
Alexander reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Theo reached for it as his brother lit a cigarette between his lips. Alex hesitated to hand the pack to him, as if suddenly realizing he wasn't a child anymore. But the moment passed. He tossed it to his brother. They sat in a comfortable silence for the first time in several years.
