CHAPTER 49

I open my eyes inside Bellatrix's room and nearly collapse, the sobs breaking free now, my bag falling at my feet as I berate myself for messing up my life this badly. Two arms surround me before I follow my bag and hit the floor. "Aurelia, what's happened?" my mother whispers, her chin atop my head. I just shake my head and bury my face in the crook of her neck, unable to tell her that I'm crying over a blood traitor—if she knew, she'd no doubt be angry with me. "Aurelia, speak to me."

"I don't want to talk about it," I whisper, wrapping my arms around her and trying to let myself believe that everything is semi-fine because I'm here with my mother who is doing her best to comfort me.

"Has Snape hurt you?"

He accidentally tried to kill me. "I just want to lie down." Bellatrix leads me over to her large bed, and I climb onto it, sliding under the sheets and turning my back to her. "Can I have just a minute by myself?" I breathe.

She rubs my shoulder gently, and a few moments later the door closes, leaving me free to cry without anyone watching me, but I almost wish she wouldn't have left, almost wish she was still in here with me, still trying to comfort me.

I don't really have the right to be upset. This is my fault. Had I simply told Fred the truth, none of this would have happened. I've been lying to him for months. What kind of person does that? Constantly lies to the one they love for months without caring about the consequences?

I should have told him when it first happened. How could I have lied to him like that for so many months? Fred loved me, and I ruined everything.

Though I don't remember falling asleep, I wake up and register immediately that something is different: no longer is my head on a pillow but rather on someone's lap. Slowly, I crack open my eyes to see Bellatrix. Her hand is in mine, her arm across my stomach. A book floats in front of her, and every now and then she will use her free hand to turn the page. I watch her silently for a few minutes, the pain in my chest temporarily forgotten. She's my mother, and she's letting me cry in her room, trying to comfort me as a real mother would do. It brings a smile to my face. She's not a real mother—she cannot be trusted to stay like this. She could turn on me at any minute.

She glances down at me and with her free hand brushes some loose hair out of my face. "How long have you been awake?"

"Just a few minutes," I whisper, my voice hoarse, giving her hand a squeeze. "You looked . . . peaceful while reading. I didn't want to disturb you."

The book shuts itself and sets itself down on the nightstand beside the bed. "Name the person who hurt you and they'll be in St. Mungo's within the day."

I close my eyes, fighting a smile because as nice as it sounds and feels to have my mother jump to my defense with such passion, I don't want anyone to hurt Fred. So I shake my head at her, frowning. "It doesn't matter."

"You came here crying, Aurelia."

I meet her gaze again, tears welling up in my eyes once more. "I don't want to talk about it, Mum."

She grins slightly though she fights it back a split second later. "Do I know the person who did this to you?"

"Bellatrix."

She sighs. "I'll find out one way or another."

"Not necessarily."

My mother wipes the tear from my cheek. "Your lack of confidence in me is astounding."

I chuckle quietly, truly kind of happy to be here with her despite the circumstances that caused it, glad to have the chance to spend a little more time with her. We haven't seen each other since the Christmas holiday. She's not a nice person. Who says she isn't just manipulating you?

"Are you hungry?"

"A bit, yeah, now that you mention it. I could definitely eat something."

"Sit up, and I'll summon the house-elves to bring us something."

Once I'm sitting against the headboard next to her, struggling with deciding whether to be happy to be here or be heartbroken at the circumstances that led me here, she summons Cosmo and instructs him to bring us some dinner. He returns some twenty minutes later, and Bellatrix and I take the armchairs in front of the fireplace. "What are you doing out of Hogwarts?"

"Easter holidays," I say around a mouthful of roast.

"Do you have a place to stay?"

Zoe's face flashes through my mind. "Yeah," I say, a sudden hatred for myself springing up. "But I can't intrude on her on such late notice. I'll probably go over there tomorrow."

"You may stay here if you like."

"And the Dark Lord's fine with that?"

"The Dark Lord believes I can help you."

She's only being nice to you so she can try to convince you that your duty is not a tragic thing. Don't fall for it. "And Lucius and Narcissa?"

"Lucius doesn't have to know—he's not back from Azkaban, so there's no way he can find out—and Cissy won't care if you're here."

"And you're sure? I won't be in your way or anything? You're fine with my being here?" She narrows her gaze at me, and a relieved laugh comes out of me. "Thank you."

"If this place you're planning on going to doesn't work, you're welcome to the cottage."

I nod in a silent thank-you.

"Where are you planning on staying?"

"With a friend. She graduated from Hogwarts last year. She was in Slytherin with me."

She nods approvingly, but only because I didn't have the guts to tell her that Zoe is a Muggle-born, and conversation dies after that until we finish our meals. Then she calls Cosmo back, and he takes our plates and trash. "While you were sleeping—"

"How long was I asleep, by the way?"

"A few hours. And while you were sleeping, I made you something." She waves her wand, and a few seconds later something flies into the room.

"Strawberry tarts!" A wide smile breaks across my face as I reach out for the tart she offers me. "You—you did this for me?"

She doesn't answer me. I take a bite into it, and all of my sorrow melts away. Nothing has ever tasted so perfect before. It's warm and sweet and delicious, and I can pretend that nothing is wrong with me right now. "These are phenomenal. Merlin, I love you." I stop mid-chew, not daring to take my eyes off the tart. Snape warned me about this.

Bellatrix's hands take me by the shoulders and pull me to my feet. I finally look back up at her. She wraps her arms around my shoulders and pulls me against her, holding me tightly, her hand cradling the back of my head as if I'm a newborn. Snape warned me about this. "I never thought I'd hear my daughter say that to me."

I return her embrace and rest and rest my head against her, feeling warm and loved and even somewhat safe. Stop, Charlotte, Snape warned you about this. But I don't care. You know you can't trust her. Bellatrix is a Death Eater—she would never be this warm and kind.

But I don't care.

My eyes are misty when we finally break apart to finish our tarts, but I don't try to hide it. I pull my chair closer to hers, and together we kill some time talking by the fireplace. For what feels like almost an hour, I can't stop smiling at her. My mum.

Then she says, "I need to speak with Cissy. I'll be back." She leaves the room quickly after that.

I go back to the bed and lie down. It's only when I'm alone that Fred comes back to my mind, and the tears well up in my eyes again. I've lost the one I love because I was selfish and didn't want to risk losing him. That didn't work at all as I'd planned, and all that's left of what had been such a glowing, warm, happy part of my life is a deep cavern in my chest caused by my own stupidity.

Bellatrix returns nearly an hour later, but I don't make any sound to suggest I'm awake. The mattress shifts when she lies down, and regardless of how terrible of an idea this is, I move closer to her and place my head on her stomach and wrap my arm around her. Her breath catches, and for a moment she doesn't move at all. Then she takes my hand in hers and begins breathing again. I fall asleep comforted by the steady rise and fall of her belly with each breath that she takes.

I wake up the next morning with my back against my mother's back. When I start to move away from her, she says, "There's no need for you to get up this early. Cosmo and the others haven't finished breakfast yet."

"Fine," I sigh. Then I lie back down and fall back asleep pretty quickly.

The next time I awaken, the other side of the bed is cold, Bellatrix no longer giving off heat. I roll over and am unsurprised to find it empty. I look around the room until I find her sitting in front of her fireplace looking at something in her hands. "Did the house-elves ever finish breakfast?" I ask her quietly.

She glances over at me, then stands, grabbing a tray from the empty seat next to her and bringing it over to me. "For a while I thought you would just sleep all day."

I smile at her and take a bite of toast. "What time is it?"

"Nearly noon."

"I should be going soon."

She nods as if she expected no less.

"I've missed you," I say around a bite of bacon. Bellatrix sits down beside me and puts her hand on my shoulder. I grin at her, knowing exactly what will make her happy and wondering why I didn't tell her over the Christmas holiday. "Hogwarts has been pretty great. I went to the Slughorn Christmas Part with Blaise Zabini."

"Zabini? How do I know that name?"

"A pureblood Slytherin. His mother is so beautiful that men continue to marry her despite the fact that every single one of the previous ones have died."

Her eyes widen. "I know that family. He's friendly with Draco."

I nod and continue eating. "The Greengrass sisters have also become my friends. They're purebloods as well."

"They're a respectable family."

I wonder if she'd say that if she knew that Daphne and Astoria don't really abide by the pureblood supremacy ideas that so many others do. It's best not to tell her. She needs to think I have a few good—good by her standards—influences on me at the castle. "I think Hogwarts is a good place for me."

"I'll make sure to inform the Dark Lord that you're settling into your life there."

"That doesn't mean I'm more content with my duty."

"It's a start."

After finishing my food, I slide off the bed and gather my bag. "I really don't know how to say how much I appreciate your letting me stay here last night," I say, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. It takes her a moment before she puts her arms around me as well. "I'll be fine." I step away from her, going so far as to stand on my tiptoes to kiss her cheek before I Disapparate.

I waste no time stepping into the Three Broomsticks and placing my bag down at the corner table. Then I walk up to the bar and say, "Could I get a butterbeer?"

"Yeah, just one second," Zoe answers without turning around. She gives another man a drink before opening a bottle of butterbeer and turning to hand it to me, stopping when she sees me, her face breaking into a smile. "Dammit, Marcus, you didn't tell me you'd be coming by today!"

"It was a last-second decision," I say, taking the bottle from her.

"Is the Gryffindor with you?"

My breath catches, tears threatening already. "No," I manage to say.

"Oh no," she sighs. "Something's wrong." She reaches into her back pocket and removes a key. "Why don't you go to my place and I'll be there as soon as I can? I get off in two hours."

"Thanks." I take the key, grab my bag, and leave the Three Broomsticks.

I'm surprised by how dark her flat is when I arrive. Thick curtains have been drawn over the windows, and I wave my wand to light the candles before wrenching the curtains open and letting the light flood the room. I'm tempted to look through the sketchbook on her coffee table but decide against it, choosing instead to lie down on her sofa and take a short nap while waiting for her to return from work. Sleeping has proven to be the easiest way to put Fred out of my mind.

"I don't know why I didn't expect you to fall asleep," her voice says a short while later. I slowly open my eyes to find Zoe crouching in front me. "Morning, Marcus."

"Are all your work days this short?" I mumble, groggily pushing myself into a sitting position.

"I asked Rosmerta for shorter days this week on the off chance that—just in case—I don't know—I just asked for shorter days this week."

"And you won't get into trouble for that?"

"Of course not. Rosmerta loves me. Now come on, you look like you could use a pick-me-up. Tea?" She offers me her hand and pulls me to my feet. We walk silently to the kitchen area, and we remain silent until she puts the kettle on the stove. "Are you all right, Charlotte?"

I sit down heavily at her table. "Not really, no."

"What happened?"

"I finally told Fred about Voldemort." I pick at my fingernails. "He didn't take it well."

She makes a noise in her throat. "Does he not realize what this means for you?" she growls. "Does he not realize what you'll be forced to go through? He didn't take it well. How does he think you are taking it?"

I take a breath. "Honestly, he was somewhat fine before finding out all the people I told before him. And even then he seemed all right. Then I told him that I told you. That's when . . . that's when he got angry. That's when he started saying that I'd betrayed him. That I had been lying to him—which, I mean, I have been—but it all got worse when I admitted to telling you."

For a short second an odd, almost pleased expression crosses her face, but it devolves into anger. "Are you serious? I knew it. I knew that Gryffindor was not good enough for you."

"Why? Because he's a Gryffindor? I loved him, Zoe, I didn't care what Hogwarts House he was in, and you shouldn't either. It's not a big deal. And could you stop calling him 'the Gryffindor'? I loved him. I love him. The least you can do is use his real name, if only for my benefit. I tolerated your calling him that before, but he's gone now, and it's my fault, and I don't want to grow resentful toward him, which is exactly what will happen if you bitterly refer to him as 'the Gryffindor' all the time. And honestly it might turn me against all the Gryffindors because I'm going to want someone to blame who isn't me. And seriously you've graduated Hogwarts I don't understand why House—"

"Charlotte, I'm sorry. I didn't realize it bothered you. I'll stop."

I try to say something, but she puts her hand up for me to keep quiet. Then she continues, "And Fred Weasley being a Gryffindor has nothing to do with why I don't believe he's good enough for you. He's not good enough for you because you're you. You've been to hell and back, and you deserve someone who can appreciate that. He might have loved you, Charlotte, but he didn't understand why you are the way you are. He grew up in a loving home with parents and siblings and friends. You deserve someone who understands you better than he does."

I sigh impatiently. "He understood well enough."

She looks ready to argue more but decides against it, for which I am eternally grateful. "Is there anything I can do?"

I glance at the teapot, the pattern now visible, informing us that the water is boiling. "You can continue with the tea."

She grins before getting up and bringing the tea and sugar over to the table. Then she pours us both a cup. "But really, how are you feeling?"

I take a sip, flinching away when it burns my mouth. We sit in silence for a long while before I finally say, "I haven't felt this empty since Mrs. Stoico died."

"Who's that?"

I give a brief explanation of who Mrs. Stoico was and what happened to her because of me, which she accepts relatively easily, only raising her eyebrows in surprise a couple of times. "Not even when I was forced to end things with Draco did I feel this way. And I don't know why that is."

"I felt the same way for a long time after I lost my parents," she says. "They were the most important people in my life, and then they were gone. I had no one. Sometimes that empty feeling returns, especially after I lose someone else. And you just lost him, so I'm sure all that pain is just kind of coming back."

I take another sip of my tea. "I wish I wouldn't let this bother me so much."

"It's natural, Charlotte." She adds sugar to her cup. "You had Mrs. Stoico, you lost her. You had Draco, you lost him. You had Fred, you lost him. You can't expect yourself to be fine with what's happened."

"But I'm not alone this time. I have my mother, I have you, I have McGonagall and Snape. I don't understand why I'm this upset. I knew it was coming."

"You might not be alone, but that doesn't mean anything. You can feel alone even when surrounded by people who care about you."

I don't speak again until after finishing my cup of tea. "I don't really want to go back to Hogwarts. I'll most likely have to explain to Snape what happened, and I'm not currently in the mood to hear him say he was right about me needing to tell Fred the truth. And I definitely can't stay with Fred as I was planning to."

"Is there a question in there somewhere?" she asks with a smile.

"Yeah. Can I stay here? I mean, if I can't, Bellatrix said I can stay with her but—"

"Of course you can stay here, Marcus." I smile appreciatively at her, then gather up our empty cups and take them to the sink to wash them. "Well, I have the rest of the day off," she says, now right beside me leaning against the counter. "And I'm not planning to let you mope around all day. You need a distraction." She watches me deviously, and my heart starts beating faster. Zoe leans in closer, looking around the room conspiratorially. "We're Apparating to London. We're going to watch a Muggle film or explore or something to get your mind off all of this." Then she backs away from me, takes my shoulder, and pulls me over to the sofa where my bag is. "So if you want to change, change. But we're going into London as soon as I get out of these clothes. I feel like the Three Broomsticks is lingering on me. Hurry up." She disappears behind the bookshelves that block off her bed.

Zoe and I leave for London fifteen minutes later.

I'm so distracted by her laughter and the light-heartedness I feel around her despite my recent heartbreak that I don't take notice much of what we do in London. I just enjoy the time we spend there. I can almost pretend that Fred and I didn't fight, that Fred doesn't hate me.

Of all the choices I've made recently, visiting Zoe is probably the best one, and when we return after watching whatever film Zoe chose that I will forget by morning and eating at some café I'll probably never visit again, I'm not nearly as upset about the breakup as I thought I'd be. It feels like it happened weeks ago, not yesterday.

"When was the last time you saw a Muggle film?" she asks me, removing her brown leather jacket and tossing it onto the sofa after closing and locking the door.

I take a moment to look at the toned muscles on her bare arms, and it's not until I pry my gaze away from them and meet her eyes that I realize she's smiling. I clear my throat. "When I was on the run, actually. I'd watch them in the houses I was crashing in. So it's been a while, unfortunately."

She nods. "I figured it'd been a while." Then she yawns and stretches. "I don't feel like setting up the sofa for you to sleep on, and honestly I don't think it'd be comfortable to sleep on for anything longer than a nap. You can take the empty half of my bed."

"Are you sure?" I ask her as she walks toward the bathroom.

"When have I ever offered anything without meaning it?"

"You have a point, I guess," I mutter. I change quickly and crawl into the bed before she returns, lying on my side and closing my eyes.

"You're on my side of the bed, Marcus."

I roll to the other side with a quiet apology and look up at the ceiling, refusing to look over when she gets into the bed next to me. From the corner of my eye, I see her wave her wand, and the candles all go out, the curtain in the other room draws shut, and darkness descends upon us quickly. "Night," she says.

"Goodnight," I whisper.

She falls asleep within minutes and shifts, her arm brushing mine. I don't sleep well that night.