Time twisted in a technicolor blur.
Dahlia and Theo appeared in the courtyard of the Nott Manor as they apparated from her home. Her surroundings came into focus as the charcoal smoke dissipated into the moonlit evening. Through the fading haze, she realized she was at the center of his home, encompassed by four interconnected structures. The grey cobblestone walls of the manor were massive and lined with floor to ceiling windows. Ivy vines intertwined with midnight-blooming flora that cascaded down them. She strolled over to investigate. She reached her hand to pick a flower off a vine but Theo quickly intervened.
"That's belladonna, deadly nightshade," he told her as he quietly pulled her hand away.
She stepped back, her bare feet upon the gravel as she still held her strappy high heels from the ruined evening. She turned to see a substantial size fountain carved from beige stone.
Theo took out his wand and whispered, "aguamenti."
Water began pooling within the fountain. The enchanted nymphs made of opal began to frolic amongst the ripples. Only seconds ago they had been frozen. Theo grinned.
He took her hand with nostalgic eyes and began leading her into his abandoned home. They walked through the maze of hedges and slowly climbed colossal cobblestone stairs up to the grand entrance of the manor. She thought it seemed more like a whimsical castle than a manor. He waved his wand and dozens of locking mechanisms clicked and turned in the silent night. He let go of her hand. His muscles strained as he pushed open the wooden doors that had been ornately carved to depict the fall of Rome — ghastly creatures weeping in flames as the gods fell.
The pads of her feet echoed as she stepped into the dark. A chill whipped through her hair as if the manor breathed a desperate, dying breath to be saved. She realized the home that was forged from warmth and romanticism had decayed into a desolate, dust land of fallen grace. Paneling of crosshatched oak wood adorned worn stucco walls. She looked up to discover massive wooden beams that held over a dozen gleaming, crystal chandeliers. With the light of the moon shining through the large windows, they refracted like fractured glass, and in its broken reflection was an abandoned fairytale — the princes and heroes were long gone.
"When was the last time you were here?" She asked quietly.
She could sense his heartache was blanketed a tinge of bitterness.
"Maybe a year or so? I didn't bother coming back after my father was captured. I never spent much time here to begin with," he shared as he began awakening the home with his wand. "It doesn't appear my brother has been here either," he added.
"You have a brother?" She asked in quiet shock. She was irrationally afraid that if she were to raise her voice, a spirit might awaken.
"A bit older. He's quite estranged. His name is Alexander," he replied, nonchalantly.
"Why haven't you told me before?" She was slightly bewildered.
He looked back at her as he led her further down the main hall and gave her a cheeky grin, "because you've never asked."
Dahlia mulled that over briefly. She knew Theo deflected hard topics with humor and charm. She made a mental note to start asking him more questions.
"Were you two close?" She inquired as they came to a vast living room.
Theo began casting, alighting the chandeliers and removing protective drapes from the furniture. He didn't answer her. When he was done spell-casting, he turned to face her. She raised an eyebrow to pry and entice an answer out of him.
"He had a rocky relationship with my father, as well. They disagreed often. He taught me a lot — occlumency, apparating, complicated magic and a few advanced spells. He gave me this," he said as he spun his time turner upon his ring finger.
"What happened between you two?" She took a seat in front of a massive wooden fireplace as Theo brought the flames to life.
He exhaled slowly as if this were a topic he knew he would eventually have to address. He bent down and coaxed the flames to dance higher, combatting the chill of the forsaken home.
"You were very astute in your observation between myself and the thestrals. I knew I liked you then. You were clever like me," he stated, back turned to her.
Dahlia remained quiet as she wanted to push him past his deflection. He poked at the fire.
"My father murdered my mother in a drunken rage. My brother disappeared shortly after. I began staying with the Malfoys more often than not," he stated passively.
He sighed as he stood and walked towards her. She reached for his hand. He looked down upon her seated on his leather couch. He could make a new home within this house — with her.
"We all cope in our own ways, I suppose." He spoke as if he was trying to grapple with his abandonment.
She stood from the couch and hugged him tightly. She knew all the words and sympathies had already been spoken countless times. There was nothing she could say that hadn't been said before. Words became hollow overtime, she knew it well, so she kept her embrace around him. She ran her fingers through his hair several times. He wouldn't be alone. He pulled away to look into her eyes.
"We'll make better memories here now," he whispered to her, pressing his forehead against hers. He tucked her hair behind her ear and murmured, "my wildcard."
A slow smile broke across her face. She desperately wanted to brighten his mood.
"Should we start now?" She asked coyly.
He bent down to pick her up, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist. He smiled as he pretended to check his watch.
"No, I think we're still scheduled for another twenty minutes of misery," he joked sarcastically.
He began carrying her up the large wooden staircase, supporting her with one arm as he reached with the other to pull her close. He placed a dozen kisses across her cheeks, chest, arms and neck.
"I don't want an inch of your skin to go un-kissed. I want to love all of you," he murmured playfully.
He kicked the doors open to his old bedroom and threw her on the ornate canopy bed carved from rich wood. Fantastical, priceless tapestries were hung above the wooden wainscoting upon the walls. She could see the dipping moon and the night sky through the massive windows next to the bed. It bathed them in starlight. Rich, scarlet curtains hung from them.
She scooted further up onto the mattress amongst the Roman pillows as Theo unbuttoned his white shirt. She basked in the anticipation of his touch and the thrill of having an entire manor to themselves. What if they could just hide here forever? He could be her king of wildness and she would swear an oath to the moon to protect their borrowed palace and stolen time from the enemies that threatened to cross the threshold. They were untouchable here, away from all the troubles that plagued their relationship.
He removed his shirt and goosebumps formed at the sight of his bare chest and how his muscles seemed to dance in the silver light. She could forge their own destiny. She would find a dozen amplifiers and devour them all if that is what it took to rewrite the stars for them to be together. She would wield darker magic until her fingertips turned black.
"Darling, stay focused," he ordered as he patted her cheek lightly to pull her out of her thoughts. He kicked his dress pants to the side. He placed his knee between hers on the bed and leaned over her.
"Mhm, I promised to fuck you senseless? Yes?" He said silkily running her fingertips across her jawline.
He nodded as to remind her. He gripped her jaw and spoke into her lips, "well, we've arrived at that part of the evening."
She grabbed the back of his neck and crashed his lips to hers. They kissed as if they couldn't manage to get any closer. It was heady. He sat up on his knees and pulled her forward with him — afraid that a moment away from her lips, she would be lost forever. He ripped her dress zipper down and pulled it over her head. He groaned into her mouth when he realized she hadn't worn anything at all beneath it for the entire evening.
He had to get closer. He gripped her upper thighs as he brought her legs around his waist and lifted her off the bed as he stood on his knees. She pushed herself forwards, arching against his hardness and moaned as she kissed his jaw. He laid her down on her back again, his mouth never leaving her skin. He kissed her breasts and traced his mouth disrespectfully along her tattoo that marked her as Divine. He would kill them one day, he thought vehemently. He trailed his lips down her stomach worshipping her. He hiked her leg over his shoulder and licked up her center. She arched her back and pushed her hips into his mouth.
"Does that please you, baby?" He asked with a sultry grin.
She nodded and pushed her hips up to him again.
"Ask me nicely," he demanded.
"Please," she whispered breathlessly.
"And?" He smirked.
She rolled over onto her back as to defy him and crawled farther towards the pillows. He pulled her foot out from beneath her, forcing her onto her stomach. He came behind her like a predator hunting.
"That wasn't nice," he scolded her as he leaned over her ear.
He slid his hand between the mattress and her stomach and lifted her onto her hands and knees. He gripped her hip and bent over her from behind. He ran his thumb over her core and she whimpered.
"Say it," he ordered behind her ear.
He stopped and brushed her stomach with his rough hand. She needed him to touch her again.
"Thank you," she answered, looking back at him defiantly.
He kissed the back of her neck sweetly. "I love you," he whispered resolutely.
He then plunged into her from behind, and began thrusting into her in sync with his thumb, motioning over her core. He pulled her back and forth upon him with long strokes. She looked back at him to watch. There was a dirty possessive gleam in his eye as his jaw ticked, like he would make sure he was the only man who ever fucked her like this, or would ever fuck her again. It made her dizzy with need. He kept one hand on her center. He gripped her tattooed skin roughly like he hated its presence before gently wrapping her long hair around his fist.
"Fuck me," he ordered smoothly.
She moved herself on him as he picked up his pace circling her core. She was breathless until she finally found her release. She clenched around him and moaned breathlessly. She sat up on her knees, and he wrapped his arms around her stomach and breasts as he kissed her. She ran her hand through his hair and whispered, "I never want to be without you."
She felt his muscles stiffen and noticed his jaw tighten further. He almost appeared angry. He got rougher in his grip on her breasts. He thrusted hard. She felt herself tiring. He laced his fingers in her hair behind her ear and whispered aggressively, "I'm going to come in you."
She nodded, and he spilled himself inside of her. He gripped her face and pulled her mouth up to his. He bit her lip as he rode through his release. He released her more gently once he was finished and sat back on his knees. There was a tense air as he pushed his hair back. The lazy expression that often followed his release wasn't there this time.
"I don't know why you would assume anything different," he scoffed quietly.
She read his passive aggressive tone. She sat on the bed and pulled her knees into her chest. They stared at each other for a long moment. Anger bubbled within her veins. She had meant it affectionately, but his insecurities were clouding his perspective.
"Is this not enough?" She asked him motioning around as to insinuate that she had quite literally walked with him through the painful memories of his abandoned home. She was actively going against her friend's advice, and she had left her own home in the middle of the night to come here with him. She had dedicated almost all of her free time to him despite her less than stellar grades right now. He was the one who tried to leave her in the Astronomy Tower that night and she had given him no qualms about it. Yes, there were some complications with Draco but that was a byproduct of her Sight, which she was now newly attempting to suppress. She didn't yet know how as she was figuring it out as she went.
"Am I enough?" He replied tightly as he removed himself from the bed.
He went into the bathroom and started drawing a bath. He retched the handles on the fountains protruding from the wall. The faucets began filling an octagon-shaped tub surrounded by wooden pillars. He had created a violent tension within the space.
"Get in," he said pointing to the tub.
She could gage that he was annoyed by his body language, yet he still chose to cater to her. She grimaced, realizing he was in one of his moods. She moved off the bed, and entered his bathroom. The creamy marble floor chilled her feet. She obliged his request as she stepped into the tub meekly.
He bent down resting his head on his forearms against the ledge of the tub to meet her at eye level. She felt unsettled. Her instincts told her now was not the time to start spilling truths about her and Draco. His fuse only needed a match. She felt as if she was circling and soothing a predatory beast.
"I love you," she whispered to break the silence. She wanted desperately to be back in his good graces.
He couldn't bring himself to say it back to her. He was in too deep and he loved all of her, even the flawed parts. It was a bitter pain to have her so intimately, as he took her love, while forced to look at the physical reminder of what she had done to herself with Draco; what she continued to do with Draco. She was a sham. He knew that now, but he also knew he wasn't any better deep down. He was an insolent man born from a violent house of thieves. His nasty heart belonged in her half-promised hands, slipping through the cracks of her uncrossable, un-sworn fingers. He knew he would have her regardless, whatever crumbs she would throw of her Divine love his way. He only begged for the truth of it all. It wasn't good enough for her to not want to be without him. He needed her to know it, in her bones, that she would never be without him. That regardless of who she loved most, her soul would sit next to his in the night sky when all the misery was over with and their blood had finally run dry, nurturing the earth in an endless cycle.
His facial expression didn't change. He looked her point blank and said, "I know what Draco saw in his vision at the bluffs. He told me."
Theo assumed she knew what Draco had seen in his dream — about their supposed future together and that was why her heart called to him. It hadn't crossed his mind that she was blissfully unaware of the truth because Draco's pride and fear of rejection prevented him from being able to voice precisely what he saw to her.
Dahlia wanted to patch things up so badly that she didn't bother inquiring deeper into what he knew. She didn't know what Draco had seen within the infinite possibilities he had been shown.
She shifted uncomfortably. "I feel a physical pull to him because the Fates want us together for a larger purpose. I dream of him. He haunts me." His expression hadn't yet yielded. "He's my curse, but I will wake up and choose you every single day." Her voice filled with utmost sincerity from her heart. She knew this was as much honestly that she could offer him at the moment. She was terrified to lose it all over something that was beyond her control. A small voice worried for herself, alone in his home, if subjected to his rage.
She wanted to reach for him, but she was too afraid, despite his face being mere inches from her. She broke her gaze and sank fully into the bath if only to get a few seconds to herself away from the tension. She emerged and looked into his eyes as to convey a promise that she would take his hand always.
Theo conceded. Her small honesty wasn't enough for him, but the vow in her eyes had been. He sighed as he stood and walked to the other end of the monumental tub.
She felt the water shift as he sank into the pool across from her. She didn't meet his eyes as she nervously stared at her hands placed in her lap.
"Dahlia," he called softly, motioning for her to come closer.
She swam forward even though her spine tingled with premonition. He spun her around gently so her back was to his chest. He pushed aside her wet hair and kissed her neck sweetly.
"Don't lie to me again," he murmured sternly. "Especially about your whereabouts." He chose to whisper, knowing it had been her secret.
Dahlia couldn't face him as her stomach plummeted. She glanced down to see his glimmering, ring-covered hand in front of her as he brushed her stomach and pulled her closer — the same hand that had just seduced the most intimate actions out of her, now lazily spun a time-turning ring as a threat.
—
In the hush of the night, cradled in Theo's arms, Dahlia dreamed she was in a vast forest touched by spring. Sunlight beamed down upon her between the branches that laced the canopy of oak trees. Once again, she was in a short, cream nightgown. She sat upon a swing made of rough wood, frayed rope and lush vines. She felt a hand gently push against her lower back. Her dreamscape reminded her a famous painting she couldn't quite remember now.
She didn't want to look back and have to face him. She was tired of fighting with men for the evening. They carried on like this in a comfortable quietness as he pushed her on the swing.
The breeze felt refreshing through her silk dress in the afternoon heat. It was a lovely summer here. She was at peace until she felt him stop pushing her forward. She finally glanced over her shoulder as Draco stepped closer to the swing. He was wearing the same suit from earlier this evening, only his jacket was now missing. He had untucked his shirt and rolled up his sleeves. He looked disheveled — possibly as if he had been waiting here for a while.
He grabbed the hanging vine above her head and looked down upon her. "Is this not paradise?" He asked her earnestly, referencing his words from earlier.
"This isn't reality," she answered simply, peering up.
He looked celestial — made of stardust. His dream self left her breathless.
He bent down in front of her. "It could be." There was a spark of hope in his eyes.
He grinned at her as if carried the secrets of the universe. He thought he did.
She shook her head to quietly disagree. She wasn't sure what he was suggesting, but he looked so confident in his belief that this dreamland could be made real. His own mood swings were giving her whiplash as he kneeled before her now after he had shoved her earlier. He was acting irrationally like their was mayhem in his own mind. She expected this type of behavior from Theo, not him.
"I've seen it." He nodded. He spoke boldly, sure of it.
He grabbed her hands that were placed in her lap. He hesitated like it was killing him to give up this secret. "In my vision, after you were marked, you looked like a goddess. I can't stop thinking about it. You enticed me to kiss you, and it escalated. When we were together, you showed me my future; possibilities, or a past that never was."
He lowered his voice. "You were with me in all of them, in this life or others."
She shook her head, saddened he had fallen for their scheme. It wasn't possible. Singularities such as what he was suggesting didn't exist. He placed his arm in her lap, beckoning her to push the sleeve up a little higher. A silhouette of raised, black ink was nearly visible beneath the fabric as the summer sun shone harshly through the trees above. She glanced to him with furrowed brows. She didn't want to see this — couldn't acknowledge it. A wash of horror pricked her skin. With shaking hands, she shimmied up the sleeve of his dress shirt on his right arm. She smoothed her thumb over a single glyph that maimed his unblemished skin. It almost appeared to be a constellation not yet born that marked his own skin.
She bit her lip. What had she done? She looked past him to the distance. This couldn't be the work of the Divine. What dark magic had made this? She shook her head, denying the gravity of the truth. She let it roll over right over her head. This was a trick — punishment for stealing something she wasn't worthy of from the gods.
"Draco, the Fates show you what they want you to see, not always as it will be," she whispered in torment.
His jaw ticked, and he grimaced. She suddenly realized he must have expected her to fall into his arms after purging this information. They had shared intimate moments, but it didn't change his icy temper, inability to communicate properly and potential murderous tendencies. She wondered if when she had embraced him on the cliffs if that was the first moment someone had held him strictly for comfort. Did something so foreign to him alight his heart?
"Dahlia, I saw us. We were happy. I've spun you in my ballroom. I've seen you swim in my lake and I've watched you chase children, our children, through my gardens. I've held your hand, as I do now, timelessly."
She fought against a gasp. He was lying. The Fates were lying. Tormenting them both and driving them to madness for what they had done.
"It wasn't truthful, Draco. I can't be yours," she whispered. "I need you to let this go."
"Are you afraid of me?" He stood and stepped back from her.
He hated her for ruining this moment for him. His deepest insecurities came forth. Her reaction, this reaction, hadn't been accounted for. Was he too awful for her to fathom a life with? He remembered how shaken she had been after she had touched the vanishing cabinet. She had ran from him like he was a monster.
"No-I don't know. I was afraid in the Room of Requirement," she replied honestly. She was too flustered to say much more. She couldn't bear to tell him that she still might be afraid.
He didn't speak, so she continued meekly, "I can't be yours because my heart belongs to him. I don't care what the Fates desire, even if what you claim is true. I know it's brash, but he's everything I need." She winced, waiting for his anger to lash her.
Draco sighed in frustration, but kept his temper in check this time. He stepped forward and brushed his hand against her cheek. He watched as her features softened.
He replied as if pleading with her, "Dahlia, you want to see the best in him. I admire that, but he will consume you until you are nothing but a shell of yourself and you have nothing left to give. His cost is too high."
She shook her head and furrowed her brow in pity. "So is yours," she muttered.
Did he not see that he was asking of her the same thing? That him and Theo were not so different? The only dissimilarity was that Theo had been kind and considerate to her from the beginning. Draco hated the sight of her only weeks ago. She had offered to help him in exchange for his assistance and by consequence, it led to him having a manipulated vision of a possible life with her. Now, he stood before her and demanded her heart. He put so much faith into her ancestors which he knew so little about. She had been born to give divine insight; he was simple receiving it ignorantly and acting upon it irresponsibly. There would be fallout from pursuing this. Others would be hurt. It was cleaner this way — to cut ties.
Draco looked away as if he couldn't stand the sight of her. His own cruel form of pity fought against his harsh features. He thought her a fool. He shoved the hand that had held her face in his pocket. His jaw tightened in contempt. His eyes were heavy with an angry desperation.
"Please, don't let him break you. I won't allow it." His tone was biting.
She blinked, and he was gone. It was as if he had never been a part of the forest at all.
"That's not your choice to make," she responded to no one. Dahlia kicked her feet, pushing herself on the swing.
—
She woke in the morning with an anxious pit in her stomach. She rolled over within the plush sheets to face Theo. He looked younger when he slept — untroubled. She ran her fingers through his hair and kissed his cheek.
She slowly crept out of bed to get her father's journals, rummaging through her things. With the leatherbound journal clutched to her chest, she quietly lowered onto the oriental rug in the center of Theo's bedroom. The old carpet resembled a bloodstain, she thought. She leaned against the smooth oak of the bedpost. Feeling chilled, she silently casted a charm to light the fireplace. The smooth, dark wood was carved to showcase The Hydra, it's snaking heads reaching upwards towards a gilded mantle. She looked away, unsettled, then began reading the first journal entry as she fiddled with Theo's necklace around her neck.
Her Father's notes were more interesting than the prophecies themselves. She remembered her mother's warnings about prophecies — that some required a butterfly to flutter its wings at a precise moment in time to be brought forth, others would come to pass regardless of circumstance. The universe would always right itself for something it wished, she had told her.
The first journal contained nothing but scribbles, prophesying endlessly about a child of eight souls, a prince of snakes. Her mother's visions got more ludicrous as the pages turned. It seemed her father was using some sort of barbaric method to bring forth vision after vision, too rapidly.
Her heart broke. Distress was a potent catalyst. Dahlia had often began to drift from this reality when she had an anxiety attack. Just what had her mother endured? And worse, at the hand of her father, the man her mother had loved. Why would he do this?
She flipped through the margins, looking for a possible spell he had used as a clue when something caught her eyes — prophecies from her mother that mentioned a daughter. She studied it more closely:
child of the chasm, my daughter of a thousand ripped tongues, the dragon's flower, heir apparent of the void, the forger of new fates will be bathed in starlight and remade from onyx and the fury of the upended no-name prince.
Dahlia must have read it a hundred times. She had bathed in the crystalized pool of stardust. Melted onyx into her very pores. An overwhelming sense of purpose and terror landed true within her heart. She wished she could turn the page back, unread the words.
The urge to remove her necklace pulsed through her. With shivering fingers, she reached to her neck. She swallowed with a trembling pause, then gave in. She unclasped the gold chain. The warmed metal wrapped tightly in her balled fist, before setting it down beside her as a new wave of emotion emerged. She felt phantom fingertips cradle her as silent tears fell down her cheeks. Dahlia had her eyes closed tightly when the comfort of her mother's voice entered her tired mind. "Don't hide in the darkness," sang her lyrical voice. She clutched the journal to her chest once more, as to hold a piece of her mother.
"Dahlia?"
"Yes?" She answered, steadying her voice.
There was a confused pause that only came in the moments after dreaming. "Come back to bed, Love," Theo finally groaned, sleep settled in his voice.
She took a steadying breath, then another, letting the peace of her mother's words calm her. Her mother belonged to the stars now, no longer in misery. Dahlia held on tightly to that silver lining. She stood when her tears had dried. Leaving the necklace on the floor, she crawled back into the soft duvet.
"Darling, why were you on the floor?" He mumbled as his eyes began drifting back to sleep. He was always the early riser, but not today.
"I was reading through my mother's journals," she answered quietly.
He opened his eyes a bit more now, pulling her down to his warm, bare chest. The tension from the night before had evaporated, though there were never grudges with Theo. Each morning was a chance for a new beginning, even for the awful souls like theirs.
"Are you alright?" He asked gently.
Eyes drifting to dream and his tan muscles covered in nothing but the sun and soft sheets, he was ethereal. She shared a cursed smile, wondering just how many girls dreamed of having this moment with him.
"Yes, we can talk about it later," she whispered, kissing his chest.
Dahlia wanted nothing more than to lose herself. She kissed downwards as he released her from his embrace, allowing her to have her way with him. He placed his hands behind his neck and moaned quietly. "Must you deprive me of all sleep?" He hissed sleepily at what she had done beneath the covers.
He ripped the covers back, fully awake, and tackled her. "You'll be the death of me, I swear it."
—
Later that evening, Dahlia sat perched upon the butcher-block countertop in Theo's warmly lit kitchen, sipping a glass of wine. They hadn't gathered the willpower to make it out of bed until the early afternoon, when Eloise and Xavier had arrived.
Theo had stormed frantically through the manor, complaining what a mess it had become while searching for his house-elf.
"That damn creature," he had muttered. Theo finally found his elf crafting beaded gowns in the dusty attic. Dahlia heard them squabble from below the ceiling. There was a surprised screech, "Master Teddy!"
Harsh footsteps followed, then a squawk. The elf had been startled to have guests in the abandoned manor. He had made himself quite comfortable in the forlorn home. Theo had pulled the elf out of the attic, carrying him down the stairs under his arm. "Holidays over, lad!" Theo tossed him lightly, assuming he was similar to a cat who might always land on its feet. "We have guests arriving!" He had exclaimed, clapping his hands together.
She now sat with Juliet on the counter playing cards as Eloise looked for music to play. Juliet hadn't said much about Lucas. She claimed they were just friends and she was playing the field, which was very unlike her. She luckily hadn't seemed too annoyed with Theo so far, but she had only arrived a few hours ago. They sat and watched the boys attempt to cook since the house-elf hadn't been prepared.
Blaise, Theo, Lucas and Xavier stood around a stove.
"I think you should do it, mate. It's your house," Blaise said nervously.
"Incendio!" Theo yelled and pointed at the stove. A massive plume of fire mushroomed into the overhead vent.
"Aguamenti! Fuck! Aguamenti!" The boys bellowed.
"Fucking gods," Lucas sighed, pushing his blonde hair out of his face.
Pansy, Daphne and Amelia ran into the kitchen from the dining room.
She hadn't been too thrilled that Amelia had asked Theo if the other Slytherin girls could come, but Pansy had written her an apology for attacking her.
Dahlia rolled her eyes, hopping off the counter. She walked over to the stove and lit the gas manually. "You're an idiot," she said to Theo.
"Where did you learn to cook?" He asked with genuine surprise.
Dahlia went to fill a giant pot with water. The elf had only conjured them pasta noodles to boil. "My mother. I used to spend my summers with her. It's much more quaint than our estate," she replied.
Theo topped off her glass while she dug through drawers. Xavier had brought a stash of fine wine that made her head dance more than usual.
"I think I like seeing you cook in this kitchen," Theo murmured, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. She leaned into his embrace.
The front door slammed in the far distance. Goosebumps rose on her arms in response; an invisible string returning home. Theo's arms stiffened.
"Anyone home?" His deep voice echoed. Draco strolled over the threshold, entering the kitchen proudly. Crabbe and Goyle were in tow.
The steady rise and fall of Theo's chest ceased for a moment. She held his arms around her waist in hopes of preventing him from doing something he might regret. She reached back, touching his cheek. "Be kind. He wants a rise out of you," she whispered.
He easily broke free from her grasp, unwrapping his arms from around her to leave her barren. Dahlia braced for the worst. Theo leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms. Dahlia sighed as his brick wall went up and his cruel facade fell into place. Draco's timing couldn't have been worse as he was becoming a steady topic in their relationship.
"What are you doing here, mate?" Theo asked, horribly calm. He bounced his knee every so slightly. It was his tell that he was poorly containing a growing rage. Dahlia knew that now as she was constantly assessing his mood.
"We invited him," Juliet and Amelia answered proudly in unison.
Theo shot Blaise a grisly sneer, knowing Dahlia wouldn't tolerate harsh words thrown at her friends. No wonder, he thought. Juliet had been nicer than usual. She had planned this all along. Theo refrained from tossing her into the wolfwoods outside the manor, where she fucking belonged.
"It's about time you guys solve your shit," Blaise replied with a harsh look.
Dahlia preferred to remain uninvolved. Their tense conversation about Draco still fresh in her mind. She couldn't afford to vouch for Draco even if she had possibly wanted him to stay — which she didn't. She stirred the boiling water and rubbed Theo's arm supportively. "Whatever you want to do." She hoped her touch and words would be enough to diffuse his temper, and soothe his insecurities.
He narrowed his eyes dismissively; of course, it would be his call. This was his home.
She smiled, regardless. Her kindness was undeterred.
His eyes softened, realizing she meant to follow his lead, not grant him permission. His eyes welled with appreciation that she was choosing to support to him. He sighed, then turned. Theo grabbed three more glasses out of the cabinet behind him. He sauntered across his kitchen to hand them to Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. "Only returning the favor since you've invited me into your home countless times." He tried his best to find a neutral tone.
Dahlia gulped her wine, back turned. She sensed Draco nod.
Draco kept his distance while she distracted herself with cooking dinner. She wasn't much better at cooking than she was potions, but a shit dinner is what Draco deserved.
Xavier topped off her wine before she walked into the formal dining room. "Are you ready for this?" He clapped his hands then rubbed them together menacingly as if preparing to watch a showdown.
"Just keep my wine glass full," she sighed, only half joking.
The house-elf had been hard at work setting the table. He placed two dozen flickering candelabras upon the curving, raw-edged wooden slab. Three large, dazzling crystal chandeliers hung above them, adorned with various precious jewels. Dahlia opted to sit in the center of the table as opposed to either end. This wasn't her home and it would only be respectful. Theo took a seat next to her, also refusing the table ends, and gently rubbed her thigh. He was in constant need of her touch. Eloise sat on her other side. Draco sat next to Juliet, who was across from Dahlia. She noted Pansy took a seat next to Draco. Their situation still a mystery to Dahlia.
They ate awkwardly in silence as Theo and Draco nearly exchanged growls. Theo kept a tight grip on her thigh, boiling beneath his skin. Lucas dreadfully chose to spark conversation. He asked Dahlia from the other end of the table, "so I heard you spend some time on the east coast of The States?"
Dahlia lifted her head, shoving away her horror and plastering a desperate grin on her face. "Yes! I used to stay occasionally with my mother at our summer house."
He leaned forward, putting in an effort to save them all. "Did you surf at all?" He asked.
She paused, almost willing to lie to keep this going. "Um, no," she answered honestly.
The conversation strained. "Ever see any...dolphins…?" He pushed. It was a valiant effort to keep the awkward silence at bay.
Tatters, the house-elf, shifted uncomfortably. "I can try and play a violin, sir," he squeaked, tugging Theo's sleeve.
"No," they all groaned collectively.
"Fucking gods," Theo mumbled under his breath. He took a giant gulp of his wine and began fidgeting with his rings. Dahlia bit her cheek, noticing his growing irritation. She perked up and beamed at Lucas. "Occasionally! And some sea turtle-"
"You two," Amelia grumbled, pointing her fork between Draco and Theo. "Work it out. I can't listen to this anymore," she snapped bluntly.
The uncomfortable silence strained.
"Alright," Draco sighed, always ready to lead. He sat back in his chair, smug and comfortable. "Thank you for welcoming me into your humble abode, Theodore."
It was beautifully served backhanded. Theo was well off and his home was quite palatial, but a rare few could say they rivaled the Malfoy fortune.
"Be civil," she murmured sharply to Theo. Over her rotting corpse would she allow Draco to ruin a second dinner in a row. Dahlia kept her hand gripped on Theo's thigh below the table as to physically keep him bolted into his seat.
Theo glanced at her, suddenly aware she wasn't wearing her protective necklace. When had she removed it? And why she had done so? It had been upon her neck just last night. He fell into chaos. Had she removed it after Draco arrived? The night felt more unpredictable, and he craved control. In his agitation, he singularly focused on Draco.
He removed Dahlia's hand without sparing a glance. He ran his tongue over his teeth, sensing her flinch before he had even spoken. "Well, I guess I could thank you too," he paused to finish his drink. "For not fucking my girlfriend despite your father's request," he replied smoothly, seeing crimson rage. "Too much of a coward the other night, mhm?" He raised one brow and smiled viciously.
No one spoke as the atmosphere plummeted. He heard a small inhale, and instantly regretted the words. Theo reached for Dahlia's hand, but she refused him.
She was paralyzed with dread, staring downwards as she was unable to look either Draco or Theo in the eye. Not that it mattered — they were staring vehemently at each other. Had Draco lied about what he had seen? To get closer to her only to please his awful father? But he had told her to keep her distance from him. Did his father know she was a seer? And that's how Draco had known too? She tried to conceal any reaction, terrified what Theo would think if he saw hurt written on her face at Draco's actions.
"Is that why you disappeared with her the other weekend?" Pansy mumbled to Draco quietly. She seemed both relieved and tense that maybe this had all been a ploy. Theo's words had a domino effect as a different hurt quickly etched across her features, realizing he hadn't been truthful with her either.
Draco chuckled, ignoring all. His attention was solely focused on Theo. "Well, it looks like you get to break the news to my father that you succeeded, mate. Tell me, were you only trying to impress my father because your own deadbeat dad finds you intolerable?" He chuckled, well pleased with himself.
Theo lunged across the table, dissipating into charcoal smoke. He apparated and appeared behind Draco's chair, then quickly dragged it away from the table. It was months of fury unleashed. Draco was quick to react as he twisted to deliver a headbutt. As they came to physical blows, neither of them noticed Dahlia exit the room.
Amelia screamed as Blaise and Xavier pulled them apart. Crabbe and Goyle watched boredly from the ends of the table.
"Get a fucking grip!" Amelia demanded. She pushed Draco's chest. "You're fighting over someone who doesn't want you, Draco!"
Theo snickered behind her, wiping blood from his lip. Triggered, Amelia whipped around and pointed in his face. "And you fucking manipulative psychopath! Don't get me started on you!" She spat at Theo.
Theo ran his hands through his hair, rage renewed. He impulsively reached to the table and slammed lit candelabras on the carpeted floors. "All I've done is try to protect her!" He roared.
The room was strung with silent terror. Blaise rushed to put out the small fire from the candelabras. They stepped back from Theo, worried they had pushed Theo too far, and that he had reached a dangerous unpredictably. Amelia kicked his wand away.
Draco looked around and realized Dahlia was nowhere to be found. There was nothing more that mattered than finding her. He sat down in an elegant wooden chair and hung his head, "I'm sorry. Let's bury this, mate."
Theo sneered, then kicked over a chair and stormed out of the dining room.
—
Dahlia floated through the main hall that connected the four main structures of the manor around the whimsical courtyard. She didn't know where she was going, or how to get there, but she knew she desperately needed to find air. She clutched her chest, searching in a panic to find a way out of this fucking place.
She heard footsteps following her. "Please! Wait!" Juliet's desperate call echoed down the empty corridor.
Dahlia's rage flared. Could she have nothing in her life but violence?
She turned sharply. "Is this what you wanted? Why did you invite him?" She spat.
"I-"
"Is this romantic to you?" Dahlia laughed coldly, mocking her.
Juliet's face fell. "It was Amelia's idea! She just wanted the group to get along again." She lowered her voice and slowly approached as Dahlia shook her head, doubting her words.
Juliet let her shoulders fall, the weight of her truth leaving them. "Dahlia, he doesn't show you all the facets of himself. Theo can be violent, and he is controlling. I just think you're moving too fast. I realize now that this wasn't the right way to go about it…It's just the way Draco looks at you..." Her sentence carried off as she read Dahlia's incredulous expression.
"So you think Draco death-eater Malfoy is better for me?" She scoffed in disbelief.
"Your ancestors chose to give him knowledge to help you!I know you dream about him. I hear you at night. I have to believe they want this to keep you safe," she replied, firm in her belief.
Dahlia shook her head, condemning what she had done. Her footsteps thundered as she walked away, leaving her friend to stare up at the stars and contemplate her choices though the large windows of her enemy's home.
—
Dahlia kept pace, hurrying until she found a back entrance within the manor. She stalked into the night, walking through the grassy hills surrounding the home. She didn't know where she was going, nor did she care. A vast ocean between her and the crowd wouldn't be enough.
She couldn't think, and could hardly breathe lately. She was always surrounded by people, especially Theo. His constant presence was both soothing and debilitating. She had assumed he was trying to make up for his actions in the Astronomy Tower, but lately she felt like he kept her under constant supervision only because he was afraid she might fuck everything up. He was a constant cloud. His words and thoughts seemed to drown out her own opinions.
She knew he wanted what was best for her. He wanted to protect her and love her endlessly, but her friends were right. The revelation that he had spied on her with his time turner finally sunk in. She felt the beat of her own singular heartbeat once more the further she trekked.
Juliet's words that they were moving too quickly had plunged through her heart and hit true. She had said out loud what Dahlia had been desperately trying to hide within herself. Whenever she dared to caress that thought, she would distract herself with the physical nature of their relationship, which was always steady.
She held her arms together. I can't go back, she thought. "It would be a waste," she muttered, terrified of what she had done willingly to herself with the crystal and what unknown, irreversible damage she had caused. She swallowed the admittance that she had partially done it for a boy she had been convinced she could save after only two months of knowing him. She now knew the depths of his stubbornness, and that he viewed his violent unpredictability and need for control as a strength, not a flaw. She tried not to mind for what it represented. She knew that meant he would protect her at all costs, and she was desperate than ever to feel safe lately.
It was his uncontrollable urge to have all of her that broke her down. It was his inability to see her as anything other than a summer flower with an occasional thorn that he would let prick him how he desired, or prune if needed. She loved how much he loved her and his willingness to stand by her even when her flaws punched through the cracks of her facade — although it sometimes felt like he was the one who was quick to paint over her gaping wounds instead of patch them properly. But where did the line get drawn?
She had fucked up by lying to him about Draco, yet he hadn't yelled or even asked for her apology. He had only pushed to control the narrative — control her. She knew her actions with Draco only instigated his need for control. It was unfathomable, conniving, that he had said nothing about spying on her until he had so casually insinuated it last night. It felt like an invasion of her privacy. In her heart, she wanted to lean into her Sight, but she was terrified of what he might do or say if she disclosed that to him since her Sight had ties to Draco.
She shook her head, gripping her new marking that turned her bones black. She had done this for him. It would be for nothing to turn back now. He was so flawed, but so was she. They deserved each other.
She came to the tree line and pushed on into the misty forest. She leaned against the chipping bark and let the moonlight breathe down upon her. She was too emotional, but finally honest with herself.
"Dahlia?" A voice carried to her on the evening wind.
She glanced through the rolling autumnal fog with a jolt. She stepped back into a clearing as Draco approached, raging starry eyes fixated on her. He was a gliding reaper dressed casually black, breaking through the tendrils of mist.
She stiffened as he neared with cheeks flushed and hair fallen from the chase. "It's just me," he whispered, almost a promise that it would always be him.
Draco stopped himself short of wrapping his arms around her although, a breath away. He spoke before she could push him back to distance herself.
"My father did want me to get close to you because he suspected you were a seer like your mother. But I swear it, that's why I tried to push you away at first. I didn't want you to get hurt. Then you said you could help me, and Dahlia," he turned, stepping away from her and running his fingers through his silver hair. He spun again to face her, prepared to yield. "I fucking think about how it felt to hold you while you slept all the time. I would give anything to go back to that dingy bog. I'd spend the rest of my life there if it meant my life could be with you."
Dahlia stood frozen. The irony was that she had actually forgotten why she had walked away from dinner in the first place. She had left and taken shelter under her twinkling night sky. All she knew, was that she didn't know what to do, and she just wanted someone to hold her who wouldn't suffocate her. She slowly took a step towards him. He looked down upon her tears, heartsworn. She leaned against his chest, wordlessly, terrified if she spoke she might reveal too much of her own heart. Draco stood stunned before quickly wrapping his arms around her. He exhaled with the relief of acceptance he rarely received.
He brought his flushed cheek to her ear. "And I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so fucking sorry, Dahlia. I'm sorry for every cruel thing I've said to you. You're not beneath me. You are everything to me." he clutched her hair and held onto her like something precious, priceless to him.
She breathed in a sob of his sweet scent. It was solace; the promise of calmer waters.
"And if this is false fate, and they're tricking me like you claim," his hand traced down her back, "would that be so bad?" He murmured against her cheek with a slow grin.
She stilled. Her senses pulsed with premonitions untouched.
"Would it?" he mumbled, more to himself than her, as he glided a hand down the back of her hair. His warm breath against her cheek.
Dahlia realized she owed nothing to anyone but herself. She wouldn't deny the stars any longer. She would push her boundaries, walk the path and mold herself into the heir apparent her mother prophesied. If Theo thought he could defy time, she would become the forger, and rule it unbending.
She was still nestled in his chest. She lifted her head up to him and their eyes met, stripped of all pretending and hiding. Her hand trembled as she placed a hand on the back of his neck.
He knew what she was doing. A hint of smile blessed his lips. He knew he had done something right.
She pulled his neck down so his mouth could finally meet hers.
He didn't hesitate as he felt like he had done this countless times in other places; different lives.
She could feel her own heartbeat in her veins as she gambled with the cosmos to push her forth on her journey. She let her lips brush his briefly, then pulled back. She felt as if her reality had just blurred at the periphery. She wasn't sure if it was because of the immense relief she felt as she had finally stopped denying herself of what she wanted, or if the winds were attempting to whisper to her how to proceed.
She looked back at him, testing the waters. He breathed unevenly, holding back, at her mercy. She finally nodded, committing to the treason of her heart. He pushed into her mouth like he hated how long she had made him wait for this.
She matched his aggression as she wrapped her hand around his throat and pulled his silver hair. She felt him smirk against her lips as he hoisted her up to his waist. She wrapped her legs around him. His his grip was unbreaking as one hand held her up and the other reached beneath her sweater to harshly caress down her back. She moaned into his lips at his touch of skin against her own.
He leaned her against an ancient tree with her legs still wrapped around his waist. He brought his forehead down and looked at her. His grey eyes were sharpened as he calculated her every need. He kissed down her jaw, then down her neck.
A cold, sickly sensation swept down her spine.
"Draco," she called breathlessly. He groaned in return, squeezing her flesh beneath her sweater.
The air from the moan that escaped her was far too warm as it plumed up to the moon. Her lips went cold. He shouldn't have pulled away, she thought. The lure to the ether was no longer avoidable. This wasn't real? Was it? She swayed in his grasp. Did it even matter if it was? Her skin pricked with numbness.
Draco felt her start to tremble in his arms. He looked back into her eyes and saw shear terror within them. "Dahlia, it's alright. I'm sorry," he whispered. He let go of her legs and pulled away, then quickly noticed she moved as if she were dizzy. He helped her to the ground.
"I don't feel well," was all she managed before she let out a blood-curdling scream in the dead of night.
The last time he had heard her scream similarly was when she had welded the crystal into her breaking bones. Something supernatural and awful was occurring. What had she done?
Dahlia felt as if an axe had split her mind. The pain was unbearable. She was no longer in her body, but had transcended into a void where time no longer existed. A million paths spun out in different directions in crystallized strings. She strummed them in a desperate attempt to find her way back to him, back to home. The strum of strings played out before her in infinite scenarios.
She now understood what Draco had seen. They were children building forts in the trees. She laughed as he spun her in a ballroom. She wrapped her arms around him as he blew out birthday candles. They swam in the ocean at her mother's house. She kissed him while he was in the middle of speaking in a library. She stumbled into his arms in a summer meadow. She laughed as he watched her kiss their children. She wept and prayed for guidance under her stars as she looked up from blood-soaked hands, and asked him how he could have done such a thing.
She gasped and looked away only to find herself tripping through the void. She fell and screamed, but no sound emitted from her. Her back cracked against a cold stone floor. No — a stone slab. She tried to get up but couldn't. She was paralyzed. This was it — this was her death. A seer's first vision is always of her death. There were ancient, grotesque symbols written on the walls in blood. She looked down and noticed blood on the slab — it was her blood amongst the walls. A slithering void floated to her ear. She knew who it was. She closed her eyes to avoid gazing upon his wretched face.
"What a beautiful gift," he whispered in a forbidden tongue.
Here, she understood all languages. He placed his wand on her heart and pain rippled through her body as she levitated off the stone. Her head hung back, and she saw countless spectators in metal masks. Her terror and rage that people would so casually stand by and watch this occurrence beckoned such a vicious screech from within her that the Dark Lord's eyes began to bleed. He cackled. Several people covered their ears, and she fell back to the slab with a painful thud.
A masked figure with short, silver blonde hair stepped forward as to coax obedience from her. This was Draco. She felt it in her new, stronger bones.
She heard someone hush and coo into her other ear. She jumped at the voice, then whimpered as her head turned to the side, only to find Theo's unreadable, beautiful face. He smiled at her as he did intimately. She sobbed as her heart broke and scattered across the universe from the betrayal. His features transformed into her father's and her terror renewed. She suddenly thrashed so harshly that she found herself ripped from the illusion and falling once more. Her stomach rose to her throat as she freefell through blackness.
She landed in the same grassy meadow she had stumbled upon under the summer sun from a different vision. She stood from her hands and knees. The air was thick with summer and all too eerie.
"Run," a voice in her head wailed. Her instincts stood on edge — she was being hunted. She dashed forward. To where she was sprinting, she wasn't quite sure. Her lungs spasmed in pain as she fought off terrified sobs.
"Dahlia!" Draco Malfoy roared behind her in the distance from a large grey-stone manor. She would recognize that voice through any thread of time. She only looked forward as she ran from the brilliant flashes of his wand, until there was no more.
"Dahlia!" Theo yelled.
He had ran into the clearing of the woods that surrounded his property. He had heard a cataclysmic scream that sounded as if it had been crafted of nightmares and sweet nothings. He followed it. Everyone else at the manor must have heard it too as they all gathered around the clearing and came to an abrupt stop. Eloise whimpered and covered her mouth as Juliet began to cry, falling to her knees.
It was the most grotesque and enchanting thing they had ever seen. Theo lost his breath as he took in the sight before him. Draco sat on his knees before Dahlia who levitated off the ground with an unnatural arch in her back. Her eyes were a blinding white and her hair shown starlight. She was preternaturally still except her fingers which twitched in a repeated pattern, threading stars. Theo approached her but Draco was quick to shove him away.
"Don't fucking touch her!" His voice boomed through the clearing, clearly in a state of distress.
Eloise moved to hold Theo back gently. "It could hurt her if you interfere. It could damage her mind," she whispered to him.
Theo sat back in horror and came to the realization that there was nothing he could do for her but wait.
"What is she?" Blaise asked with confusion.
No one answered. There was a reverent silence amongst the horrible shock. No wonder people had traveled far and wide, and sacrificed armies to discover what the oracles might whisper. The magnitude of the situation fell upon Theo. This was as close to a religious experience he had ever come. He looked over at Amelia who held her hands up in prayer to her lips, asking any god to save her friend.
Dahlia's lungs inhaled sharply as she was summoned back to her home plane. She fell to the ground, landing hard on her side. She peered up into the eyes which she had just been running from — Draco. She cried out in weakened terror, like an injured doe, as she tried to stand to move away from him. She was too exhausted, bones too heavy. She crawled backwards, as Draco sat in shock, and came to a hard stop as she landed against someone's chest.
She turned to Theo and shrieked in horror. Images of his beautiful face as she lay on the stone slab flashed across her mind. Of course, his impertinent nature wouldn't allow him to wear the mask of the death eaters. He would want people to know how awful he could be. She knew that there was a dishonest, false part of him that could play the villain so well even if he strived for goodness.
Tears of fear started cascading down her cheeks as she tried to escape the hushing grasp of him. Amelia ripped her away from Theo and hugged her tight. Juliet came behind her and wrapped her safely in her arms, as well.
"It wasn't real. You're alright," Juliet whispered as she wiped away her own tears. She couldn't stand to see her friend like this.
"He's going to kill me." Her voice rasped through the night air between her terrified sobs.
"No one is going to let the Dark Lord have you, I promise," Amelia soothed.
"Yes, they will." Dahlia was adamant. Her voice laced with vengeance and disgust. Her eyes were set unforgivingly on the two boys who both claimed her heart.