CHAPTER 19

When I wake the next morning, Draco is gone, having been replaced by a first-year Slytherin girl who sits in front of me watching me with wide brown eyes. "Can . . . can I help you?" I moan, pulling myself up right, my eyes burning, begging to be closed once again. Just go back to sleep.

"Draco asked me to keep an eye on you," the little girl says earnestly. "So I'm keeping an eye on you. I'm supposed to make you get up in ten minutes."

"Well," I say, my voice still trying to wake up, "I'm awake now."

She smiles. "I'm Maria."

"Charlotte."

The girl named Maria offers me her hand and helps me stand up. "You should really go get dressed for the day. Breakfast starts soon."

I smile at her, thank her, and leave to do just that, hardly registering any of it. Everything I'm doing could very well be out of another life, something I just watch from afar. None of this is real.

Well, none of it except for the white-hot pain emanating from the back of my hand.

Draco awaits me in the common room when I return. He grins sleepily at me and takes my good hand to walk with me to the Great Hall. Whether we actually make it to the hall and sit and eat and talk, I have no idea. Maybe I am just in a dream? No, the sharp ache on my hand would likely not be quite so terrible in a dream.

It's not until we reach Transfiguration that things start to feel real again, but that is mostly because of the look McGonagall gives Draco and me as we trudge into the room and take seats in the very back. Then I close my eyes and rest my chin in my uninjured hand.

Violent shaking wakes me up. "You have to try to stay awake," he whispers even though class hasn't started. "You didn't sleep well last night?"

I grin at him. "I mean, it was peaceful and relaxing, it just wasn't nearly long enough. I'm exhausted." I take out my book and my wand and put them in front of me, grimacing at the hand starts aching worse at the movement it so badly did not want to make. "How are you not just as tired as I am?"

He hangs his head for a moment. "I fell asleep in the common room while waiting for you. I'm tired, but I still got a few more hours of sleep than you did."

I close my eyes again and nod at him. "Makes sense," I mumble.

"I'm sorry, I should've stayed awake, I should have waited for you." I try to shake my head at him, but he continues, "It's the least I could have done considering you took the detention for both of us. I should've waited for you to return instead of sleeping."

"You're fine," I whisper, resting my head on the table. "Just . . . shhhh . . ."

He laughs quietly but doesn't say anything else.

"Rodgers!" I jolt awake at the sound of my name and look around until I meet McGonagall's eye. "See me after class."

"Yes, Professor," I mutter before closing my eyes again.

"Charlotte," Draco whispers, "you should at least try to stay awake."

"Shhhh," is my only answer.

A book slams down next to my head, and I am awake in a second, on my feet, my wand drawn shakily and pointed at the person who woke me. Only after I have a moment to see who the offender is do I lower my wand, breathing, "Merlin," as I collapse back into my chair.

"Is there a reason you slept through my class, Rodgers?" McGonagall asks me irritably.

I take a deep breath and rub my face before muttering, "A perfectly good one, I assure you." Then I realize the classroom is empty except for the professor and me. "Where is everyone?"

"On their way to Potions," McGonagall answers. "Right now I need—"

"Damn," I groan, standing to my feet, "I really should be going."

"Sit down," she commands. I do not have to be told twice. "What were you doing out of bed last night?"

For some reason, I doubt this is truly what she wants to know but that she is just building up to her real questions. Still, I answer truthfully, trying to stifle my yawn, "Draco and I were just spending time together out of the prying eyes of the other students."

"Where did you go?"

My eyes dart away from her. I know the Astronomy Tower is off-limits and, therefore, don't want to tell her the truth about us being there, but a greater part of me also is too tired to care, too tired to make up a convincing lie, too tired to really care if I receive a detention from her for being out of bounds. I exhale and look back at her. "The Astronomy Tower."

Surprisingly, she seems only slightly angry with me, and even though I had expected her to be upset, it still troubles me to have her be frustrated with me. Disappointing her is a rather disgusting feeling. "You understand that I will need to take points from Slytherin for the two of you breaking curfew." I nod. "Twenty points should do." I try to stand again, but she holds up her hand to stop me, prompting me to sit back down. "At what point did you come down and find me with Professor Umbridge?"

"Well," I answer, clearing my throat, my cheeks growing warm, "Draco and I were—"

"I don't need to know the details," McGonagall interrupts me. "That is not important right now."

"Draco heard something, and we left the Tower straightaway. We saw you taking Harry and Ron to Professor Dumbledore's office." Her lips become thin again. "Harry didn't look well." I fidget with the bandage on my hand. "We saw you come back down and return with the other Weasleys. When you came down by yourself the second time, we followed you until you began talking to Umbridge. And, well . . . you know what happened after that."

"When you went with Umbridge to the Slytherin Dungeons, what happened?"

I swallow down the lump in my throat. My hand trembles beside me as if just thinking about the detention makes it fearful of a repeat. "I was given detention."

"What about Mr. Malfoy?"

"He had nothing to do with the lie I told Umbridge. I told him not to stop me. I took full responsibility."

"When is your detention? Term ends today. You're going with Mr. Malfoy for Christmas, correct?"

"Yes, Professor. It was last night. That's why I slept through your class—I'm sorry about that, by the way. I truly do enjoy your class. Transfiguration is—never mind, it's not important. The detention ended at five this morning, so I'm just exhausted, is all." McGonagall's lips thin even more, her eyes furious. "It's all right though," I say quickly. "Like you said, term ends today, so I can rest up over the holiday."

I give her a half-hearted smile, and a silence falls over us in an almost uncomfortable way. Her eyes watch me closely, her brows furrowed as if she is trying to decide something. After a long moment she seems to come to a decision, and she finally asks, "Do you know what you were given detention for?"

"Yeah," I laugh. What kind of question is that? "I lied to Umbridge."

"No, Rodgers," McGonagall responds kindly. "Do you know why you lied?"

"Well, I could tell that you needed to distract Umbridge. And the lie just kind of . . . came to me," I answer, not wanting to comment on how quickly lies actually come to me when I'm not dying of exhaustion—that's probably not something I should admit to her right now lest she start realizing how often I lie to her. "I don't know what was going on. I saw an opportunity to help, and I took it."

McGonagall nods at me. "You did me a great service, and for that I am grateful. The news will spread quickly enough, so I see no harm in telling you now," she says. "The Weasleys' father was attacked. We were getting the Weasley children to St. Mungo's as fast as possible. Professor Umbridge would not have let them leave until term officially ended."

"Harry looked so ill . . . What happened to him?"

She remains silent. Her confidences with me only go so far, and asking about another student's medical needs is probably crossing the line.

"What attacked Mr. Weasley?"

McGonagall looks as if she's not going to answer, but after a second, she says, "A rather large snake."

I look away from her. Who can speak to snakes, can make them do things? Voldemort. Could he be up to something? Is he finally starting to make moves out in public? Is he preparing to come forth and show himself to the world again? Does that mean he will want me to fulfill my duty sooner? The thought is an icy sharp knife straight to the heart. I have to get out of Hogwarts and hide. "Thank you, Professor," I say shakily, "for telling me. But I really should be getting to Potions. I doubt Snape—"

"Professor Snape," she interjects.

"I doubt Professor Snape will overlook my tardiness." I start walking away.

"Rodgers," she says as I reach the door.

I turn back to her. "Yes, Professor?"

"Is there something . . . that you want to talk about? That you wish to tell me?"

It's like she can read my mind. There are so many things I wish I could confide in her, but none of them would be good for her to know. Might even make my time here at Hogwarts more difficult, who knows? It's safer to remain quiet. "No, Professor." I reach for the handle.

"If you change your mind," she calls to me, "my door is open."

"Thanks." I dart from the room, closing the door behind me, feeling more nauseated now than when I was carving into my hand. I want so badly to tell her the whole truth, but that would only endanger her, and putting her at risk, possibly causing her death, because I can't keep a secret is not something I can live with.

Snape looks up at me as I enter his classroom. "Late, Rodgers? See me after class." He doesn't acknowledge my existence beyond that.

I take my spot next to Draco. "What'd she want?"

"She wanted to make sure I was fine," I lie.

I brew a potion without really thinking about, just going through the motions, mostly with Draco's help because I can't focus too much on my actions or the instructions, and growing irate with Umbridge again because this is a class I could learn so much from if I weren't too tired to think right now. "You'll be okay," Draco tells me. "After all, in a few hours we'll be headed to Malfoy Manor for the holidays, and you can catch up on your sleep there. Before I teach you to fly and finish our dance. It'll be great."

I smile at him. "I would give anything if we could leave right now."

My spirits lift considerably the closer we get to the leaving time. I can almost completely ignore the steadily growing ache in my hand, the tickling of my skin as blood slowly seeps out again, the mild pounding in my head.

As I turn in my vial for the day, Snape says, "Do not leave yet, Rodgers." My head drops in disappointment. As much as I wish to go back to bed and sleep for a little while, I trudge to a chair and sit down heavily, unwilling to upset Snape more, then close my eyes and listen as everyone files out of the room. "I spoke with Professor Umbridge."

His voice startles me, causing me to jump. The room is empty except for me and Snape. "What'd she say?" I ask, knowing exactly what she had said.

"You can surely guess."

"I'm sure I could too," I say groggily. A moment later, I realize my eyes are shut again and quickly open them. "What's this about?"

"Next time you concoct a lie, Rodgers, leave me out of it."

I stand to my feet. "Is that all?" When he doesn't answer, I leave the room and go to the common room.

"Are you in a lot of trouble?" Draco asks me.

I shake my head. "He just said that I should leave him out of my lies." Draco smiles, relieved. "I think I'll skip lunch," I say. "I'm going to go sleep for a bit."

"I'll catch up with you later, yeah?"

"Yeah." I quickly retreat to my room and close the curtains around my bed so I can get some rest before my next class. Merlin knows I'll be useless in Arithmancy if I don't get some rest before then.

An hour and some change later, I haul my tired body into the Arithmancy class and take a seat next to Hermione. Her eyes are red and puffy as if she's been crying. "You all right?" I whisper.

She silently nods.

"Hermione." She looks at me. "I know what happened."

Her mouth falls open a little. "How?"

"Well . . . last night Draco and I were wandering through the castle," which is only a partial lie, "and we saw McGonagall lead Harry and Ron to Dumbledore's office. Then she went and got Ginny, Fred, and George. Draco and I led Umbridge away from McGonagall so she wouldn't find out that Dumbledore had let them leave."

"You . . . you and . . . Draco?" Hermione stammers. "Draco . . . as in Draco Malfoy?"

"He doesn't know what happened," I answer quickly. "McGonagall told me earlier."

"She . . . she told you?"

"Yeah, I led Umbridge away from McGonagall so she could go back to Dumbledore. I was punished for lying to Umbridge, and McGonagall figures the news will spread soon anyway, so she told me what happened."

Hermione glances down at my bandaged hand. "You did that . . . for Ron and his family?"

"Yes." I look her in the eye. "Tell the Weasleys I'm thinking about them. I know you'll be in touch with them some over the holiday. Wish them a Happy Christmas for me."

She watches me suspiciously, and a second later I see her eyes change from accepting to vindictive. "Why would you do something like that? You're a Slytherin," she says darkly. "I know Ron is your King, but I don't see why you would care that much."

"I wasn't really involved in that, Hermione. You have to believe me."

"I don't 'have' to do anything, Charlotte. You wore the badge, you sang along—"

"I didn't sing along! Draco gave me a badge, and I put it on!"

"Well, now you know what kind of company you keep, don't you?" she answers coldly.

"Hermione—"

"I'm done discussing this. You should not have worn the badge. You should have known that no good was going to come from it."

I don't say anything else because of course I knew nothing good would come from the badge and wore it anyway.

The rest of the day passes uneventfully. Even Defense Against the Dark Arts goes by quickly. Umbridge hides her new hatred of me very well, if I may say so myself. She really just ignores me now, which I'm actually kind of grateful for.

After a quick dinner, I pack my things and carry them down to the Slytherin common room. Draco is already there waiting for me. "Ready?"

"I can hardly wait," I say truthfully.

Draco and I, along with all the students who are going home for the Christmas holidays, load ourselves into the carriage to go to the Hogwarts Express, leaving behind all of four students. "So you can see the things pulling these carts?" Draco asks.

I nod. "Yeah, they're weird. Not something I'd want to stumble upon by accident." Once we're in the compartment of the Hogwarts Express, I lean my head over onto his shoulder. "I'm excited to be going home with you." After that, we don't talk much. Instead, I just let sleep consume me.

Someone softly nudges me awake a while later, and I open my eyes to see Draco. "Did you take a nice nap?"

"It was brilliant, actually," I answer with a smile.

"Well, unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. We're nearly to King's Cross. You have roughly ten minutes"—I stand and reach for my bag—"before we reach Platform nine and three-quarters."

I pause. "I'm sorry, nine and what? Is that even a real thing?" I don't know much about train stations, but I'm fairly certain they only use whole numbers.

He laughs and stands as well to get his bag. "Of course it's a real thing. Would I lie about that?"

"I don't know, would you?"

Draco winks at me, and I drop my bag onto the floor, then take my robes off and stuff them into the bag before loosening the uniform tie around my neck. Draco removes his robes as well and shoves them into his bag. He wraps his arms around me and buries his face into the crook of my neck. "This will be the best Christmas I've had in years."

"It'll the best Christmas I've ever had," I laugh back.

He sighs. "I hate that your life has been so . . ."

"Awful?" I fill in.

"Yeah."

"It's better now, and it continues to look up. That's all that matters."

He smiles at me, and I reach up to kiss that smile, Draco laughing briefly before falling into my kiss and pulling me close. He makes things better. He makes me happy.

And I am so in love with him.

And I am lying to him all the time.

I don't deserve this happiness.

The train screeches to a halt. "Ready to meet my family?"

"I'm nervous, actually." But not for the reasons he probably thinks.

"Don't be. Mum'll love you, I just know it."

Do you really though, Draco? Because I'm sure she won't like me much at all, considering she seemed to hate me the last time we met . . .

I just smile back at him. He doesn't need to know that I met his mother when they had me locked away in that cellar in the manor. He doesn't need to know that his father captured me and then handed me over to another Death Eater like chattel.

"But if it'd be easier, we can wait here for another few minutes until some of the others have emptied out?"

I breathe a sigh of relief. "Please?"

He wraps his arms around me, and I rest my head on his chest. "It'll be fine. I love you, and you make me happy. That'll be enough for Mum to accept you."

As much fun as I thought it would be to show up at Malfoy Manor and shock both Lucius and Narcissa just to get a rise out of them, I no longer want that. What I really want is for them to accept me, even though they know what I am. I want them to admit that Draco and I make each other happy, that we're good together, that it doesn't matter what I have to do for Voldemort because he never said I couldn't love someone else. I need them not to hate me, to possibly offer me assistance.

I just want to live a normal life, and Draco makes it seem like I can have that normal life.

"We should probably get off the train now," he says quietly. I sling my bag onto my shoulder and take Draco's hand in mine, threading my fingers through his for courage.

Draco leads me to a brick wall. "Are you sure you know where you're going?" I ask him.

"Don't question me," he laughs. "We're going to walk through it."

And with a deep breath, I walk through the wall with him, more surprised than I should be, considering I'm a witch who goes to a school of witchcraft and wizardry. I am hit with a sudden and harsh familiarity when I look around the station. I used to come here and watch the trains. I realize now that it was foolish to think the wizards' King's Cross would be a different one than the Muggles'.

We see Narcissa Malfoy before she sees us, and Draco speeds up. "Mum!" he calls out. She turns, a broad smile on her face that slowly drops when she meets my eyes and her gaze shifts to my hand in her son's hand, but one quick look at Draco brings the smile back.

"Draco!"

He releases my hand and takes his mother into his arms, and I am struck with a pang of jealously. Then they separate. "Mum, this is Charlotte Rodgers. Charlotte, this is my mum."

"You didn't tell me it was Charlotte Rodgers," Narcissa says, strain around her eyes.

"You know each other?" he asks.

"We've met once," Narcissa says.

"Mrs. Malfoy," I greet her.

She smiles. "Please, call me Narcissa."

"Mrs. Narcissa," I reply. Draco smiles.

"Just Narcissa is fine," she keeps her voice cheery.

I offer her my hand. "Narcissa." She accepts my gesture.

"How are we getting home?" Draco asks. "Did Father get the Ministry cars again?"

"Yes, follow me."

Draco lifts my bag and takes my hand in his, and we follow his mother out of the station. We stop in front of a sleek, black car. It's been charmed, for when we climb into the back, enough room remains to fit at least five others with us. "When did the two of you meet?" Draco asks when the car begins its journey to Malfoy Manor.

I glance at Narcissa. "I ran into her before the start of term in Diagon Alley. I needed help finding some of the required books." I look at Draco and smile. "Your mother is a lifesaver."

"No, no," Narcissa interjects. "She was doing just fine before I found her. I hardly did anything."

"You're being modest, Narcissa. I would've stood no chance without her."

Narcissa rolls her eyes in a joking manner. I find it odd how quickly she adjusted to my lie. Then again, adjusting to lies is pretty much a required skill of Death Eaters. I suspect she is playing nice the presence of her son, but the moment she gets me alone, I'll most likely have hell to pay. It'd be a lie to say I am not fearfully awaiting that moment.