Draco knocked on the wooden walls of the cabin as a final goodbye to the most hospitable home he had ever known. He walked out onto the deck to find Dahlia swinging on the suspended bench, one last time. She sighed as she glanced over to him already nostalgic for a place she hadn't yet left. The morning breeze whipped harshly across his face as it moved him aside to dance through Dahlia's hair. She shared a sad smile as he approached.
"Are you ready?" He caressed her arm.
It was an inevitable, bittersweet moment. He secretly wished they could stay here forever too.
She nodded and hopped off the swing. She stepped to the edge of the dock and looked down at the lake pensively. He found himself stepping towards her unconsciously. She turned, biting her cheek.
"Do you think we'll be back?" She asked sighing, wrapping her hands around his neck.
He exhaled equally dramatically as his arms found her waist. "I fucking hope not," he grinned. "You do know this is a safe house? It's for the most dire of emergencies."
She rolled her eyes at his sarcasm. "Will needing a snack in the middle of the night not count as an emergency?"
He grinned. "No, and stop acting like I've starved you."
They looked back at the mountain of Christmas cookies on the kitchen counter she had stress baked over the past few days. She groaned, then leaned back to whisper to the cabin that she would return for it soon, regardless of circumstance. Draco cupped her cheek and brought her to his chest. He was afraid this might be their last moment of peace for a while. He tilted her chin upwards and whispered, "please remember this."
She downcasted her eyes, then smiled. It was like being asked to remember the first time you heard your favorite song, or how it felt to run in the rain. She wasn't sure why he assumed she might forget this.
She squeezed the back of his neck and turned her eyes upwards again. It seemed as if he had heartbreak on his mind. She thought of Theo on impulse as he was the one person who still clutched a jagged piece of her heart. He was somewhere out there — wasting time, risking the good years, and tarnishing their good memories with every moment he didn't return.
She knew what Draco had left unspoken — remember these moments when he came back. Draco fully believed he would return, eventually. Dahlia was unsure. She thought he might know better than to come back as there was nothing but broken promises that would soon rot into grudges.
She nodded and replied soundly, "I will." She kissed him with a promise, but he pulled away too soon. She ran her fingers down his arms until she found his hands. She squeezed it tightly. He stood taller and tucked her hair behind her ear. Hand in hand, Dahlia followed Draco through the collapsing of space with a loud crack. They left the cabin and the safety of the secluded lakes.
—
They emerged within an alleyway somewhere in London. Car horns and distant voices carried from the bustling streets. It was a vibrant shock to their serene surroundings moments ago.
"Where are we?" The thrill of being on the run had her glowing.
He quickly covered her mouth, afraid the wrong people might hear them. "Come on."
He grinned as he pulled her out of the alley and down the street. She practically ran to keep up with him as he snaked through the crowd. Muggles gave them perplexed looks as they passed. Dahlia wore nothing but Draco's long shirt and dress socks as she skipped through the cold street. He wore the tee shirt she had been sleeping in and dress pants. They had nothing but their wands.
Draco pulled her through a set of iron gates, and up the stone stairs of a crisp, white townhouse with a matte black front door. She gazed up, admiring the swirling wisteria that dripped from even the tallest of windows.
Draco unlocked the door manually. He playfully shoved her inside and closed the door behind him. Dahlia looked up at the crystal chandelier that was surrounded by a swirling staircase. It cascaded downwards to the ground from the fourth level of the home. Amber light quickly illuminated the space. It delivered a warmness as it casted out the grey morning. Dahlia spun around and realized the entire townhome was decorated in shades of beige and cream. It reminded her of a lobby you might find in a luxurious spa.
"I'm guessing you're concerned about our magic being traced?" She huffed, catching her breath. The cold air still burned her lungs. She assumed he hadn't apparated to their final destination in case they were being tracked.
Dahlia brushed her hand along a marble console table with golden legs. She leaned over to smell a vase full of snapdragons placed upon it.
He nodded before pulling her up the dark, polished wooden stairs. "We should probably refrain from using any magic until we're back at Hogwarts."
She silently agreed as he led her into a bedroom off the second floor landing. She assumed it was his by the quidditch memorabilia strewn about the black dresser. It matched the charcoal wall behind a large bed. A light wooden headboard encompassed the entire length of the wall with dim backlighting. Dahlia threw herself onto the bed as she watched Draco enter a walk-in closet from across the room. He heard the soft thud and turned to grin smugly at her as he pulled down a travel bag.
"Do you stay here often?" She asked. The room seemed more lived in. The furniture appeared more worn with scrapes along the edges from consistent opening and closing of the drawers.
"My mother prefers this over the manor lately. Less need for shouting. More intimate." He threw the duffel bag in her direction. It landed on the plush carpeting in the center of the room. He proceeded to pull a few shirts and sweaters off hangers.
"I can't imagine wanting to live anywhere else other than your manor," she sighed dreamily as she put her hands behind her head.
He smiled as he took off the dirty shirt he was wearing. She didn't know the home was mainly smoke and mirrors. It was a grand, lonely palace. Still, the small admittance that she liked the things in his life, and might want to be a more permanent part of it, made him happy.
"Where else has complimenting portraits and enchanted dragons," she swooned.
He turned the light off as he exited the closet. He dropped the shirts by the duffel bag as he walked over to the bed. He pulled her ankle to bring her closer to the edge, hovering over her.
"Mm? You liked it?" He teased with a smug grin as he kissed he jaw.
She nodded. "You know what else I like?"
"I could make an educated guess." He pulled her shirt up to kiss her hip.
Dahlia tried to wrap her legs around his waist but he slapped her calves away.
"We don't have awhile." He walked over to the dresser and glanced back at her still sprawled lazily. "As much as I want to lose sleep with you in every last one of my beds."
He pulled out a few pairs of pants as Dahlia sat up and went to sit on the floor. She began folding his shirts and putting them in the bag when she sensed him go still behind her.
"What are you doing?" He asked, nearly scandalized. Dahlia turned her head to find Draco wearing a baffled expression.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" She replied with far too much attitude than he typically allowed.
They stared each other down for a moment before he threw a pair of pants over his shoulder. He quickly moved to pick her up off the floor like a bag of flour. "Don't ever do that again," he ordered as he sent her flying into the air.
"Do what?" She scoffed as she landed back on the bed with a springy thud.
"Fold."
She hopped off the bed and proceeded to ball up his clothes before throwing it into his bag. She removed the pants from his shoulder and threw it in, as well. She zipped it up harshly.
"Good?" She smiled.
He stepped closer and gripped her face. "You're insufferable," he whispered into her lips.
"You're tyrannical," she grinned as she pushed her face forward into his grip.
"That's a bit dramatic," he laughed softly as he released her.
He pulled on a new shirt and leaned against the doorframe. "So, this is the plan. First, I'm going to find you pants. Then we will go shopping, so we can find you suitable attire for our trip. After, we will leave for your mother's home. Everything has been arranged."
"How is everything arranged? You've been locked up with me for the past three days," she asked.
"I know this might be a shock to you since you think so lowly of me," he jested, "but I am, in fact, quite literate. I can write my ABCs and even send letters, just like you," he answered sarcastically as he slowly stepped into the hallway.
She rolled her eyes. He patted the wall in a goodbye, indicating he would return within moments. She heard the soft thud of the front door close.
She wasn't exactly sure how long it might take him to find her pants, but she decided to snoop in the meantime. She twirled around the corner of the doorframe and shuffled down the hall. She passed a few doors that only held generic guest quarters behind them.
She finally came to a door that looked more worn. It had a few scratches and fingertips by the knob as if it to suggest that it had been used generously. She peered down the end of the hall, then turned the doorknob out of curiosity.
The fresh wave of misery was inescapable, and the wound on her heart reopened. She knew by the fading scent, Theo had lived here once. She wondered why Draco hadn't said anything, but quickly asked herself why he would.
The room had been left a mess. It was as if his ghost was present. She ran her hands along the beige walls. They were littered with fingerprints from when he might have clumsily tripped, too lost in thought, or from gripping the walls to put his shoes on as he often did. She touched the holes from where he had pinned papers above a dark, wooden desk. It was covered in loose parchment. She shuffled through the notes for anything interesting, but could find nothing but miscellaneous class notes. She smiled, adoring his messy handwriting.
She opened a drawer and stilled at her small discovery. She reached for the old charms textbook that had been safely tucked away. She remembered when he had so carelessly lent her his textbook in their fourth year. He had turned around and thrown it on her desk as she whispered to Amelia in a panic that she had lost hers. Weeks later, she had left it back on his desk with a thank you written under the cover. She was too curious to help herself. She opened the old textbook to find her swirling handwriting in the corner. She had only written those two words, but he had saved it, and the book had somehow found its way here.
She felt her chest cave as the staggering loss hit her. She stepped back, clutching the textbook to her heart. She sat on the amber bench in front of the bed as she desperately grasped the traces of who he used to be when he might have lived here.
She turned and stared at the painting above the bed. She recognized the interpretation of Ophelia. She crossed her legs as she squeezed the textbook. She wondered how many times Theo had stared at this morbid painting, as well. He hated such things. He would have said Ophelia wasted her potential, and was stupid for climbing into a tree above a brook when she couldn't swim. She smiled to herself, but it only turned a few more rogue tears as she realized she could never hate him, even if she couldn't forgive him.
She spotted an old bottle of cologne on his nightstand. She stood and sprayed it on her wrist. She laid down in a ball on his bed. She let the phantom of him cradle her in the all too quiet townhouse.
In the aftermath, the things she missed, and wished for most, began to emerge with clarity. She missed the way he felt behind her as they slept, and the way he laughed loudly. She only wished to know what he might say to her now. She wished he might scream at her for giving into Draco so soon, if only to give her something new to fixate on besides the casually cruel mask on his face when he had left. She knew he wouldn't scream at her for it though. He would just promise to fix whatever they had broken, turn a fresh page, and make her swear to do better next time.
She laid with his ghost for far longer than she knew she should have.
—
Draco quietly entered through the front door. He knew she had found what he had hoped she wouldn't. Waves of endless despair and longing beat against their bond. He didn't want to disturb the quiet moments she needed. He instead went to his bathroom and turned on the shower. He rubbed his face in distress. He hated how helpless he was to take this pain from her. He let the water calm him so he might better dull the ache of their bond.
He finally emerged from the bathroom to find Dahlia sitting by the window. She was watching the strangers pass by on the street below when she noticed him.
"Do you think he'll stop by here?" She mumbled.
He shook his head to no one in particular. He wasn't sure what answer might please her. "Is that what you're waiting for over there?" He asked as he threw the fresh clothes on the bed.
"No," she answered with a sad smile, full of resignation. She turned back to the window as he changed.
"You're going to murder me when you see the pants I bought for you," he finally told her, after a long, healing silence.
"I don't want to know." She shook her head and grinned, still peering out the window. She turned as he held up a grossly patriotic, touristic matching set from a corner shop for her to behold.
"Draco," she groaned. "You're the worst."
"I know," he snickered.
—
Dahlia rarely got the chance to lounge in an automobile, but today was a glorious exception. She found herself seated on the hood of a black, vintage Porsche.
He had convinced her to go out shopping in that horrible outfit after he had promised he could drive such a vehicle. She had complained that it seemed too old to be safe, and he had corrected her — calling it a timeless collector's piece. Regardless, she had reluctantly gotten in the vehicle.
Draco hadn't been the worst driver, but he hadn't been the best either. She had only clenched the door handle for dear life twice. They had gone shopping and out for a late lunch. They hadn't used an ounce of magic, so in her opinion, they were successfully lying low.
Dahlia hummed as she watched the sun start to set. She clapped her shiny new, knee-high boots together as she watched planes take off with a plastic spoon in her mouth.
"Darling, please," Draco called from across the tarmac. She glanced behind her, over the towering pile of Harrods shopping bags, as she shivered from the winter air and a half-eaten cup of ice cream. He waved in exasperation and motioned for her to remove her ass from the hood of his car.
"What?" She mouthed, pretending she couldn't understand him with the steady thrum of plane engines and whipping winds. Before she could raise his blood pressure any higher, she chuckled and carefully hopped off.
Her short pleated skirt blew in the wind beneath her new black, wool coat. Draco rolled his eyes at her before turning to speak with the pilot. She smiled to herself as she watched him talk leisurely with a casual and confident, charming grin. He was stunning in all black with a rich camel coat. His hair blew silver in the pink skies.
She whipped her head as a large, black car pulled up next to theirs. Dahlia noted suspiciously that it did not have plates. Before she could think too hard, she spotted a pile of copper hair flying wildly in the wind as the car door opened.
"Fancy meeting you here," Eloise yelled as she shut the door.
Dahlia gasped and dropped her ice cream. She ran to wrap her arms around Eloise.
"What are you doing here!" She cried out in shock.
She was so happy to see Eloise that she hardly registered Xavier strolling up from the other side of the car.
"Heard you needed a discreet ride across the pond," he answered. Dahlia gave him a tight hug.
He looked over to what Dahlia now realized was his plane. He shot her a charming grin that insinuated nothing about this might be legal. "Thought we would come along. Draco practically demanded Eloise's presence. Wouldn't divulge his reasoning, per usual."
"You thought you could find all the answers without me?" Eloise teased, shoving her gently. "I know why you want to go home so badly."
Dahlia looked back to Draco. He nodded to her as if this had been a planned surprise within his plan. She wondered if he would always be like this, or if he was only working overtime to make her this happy because of Theo. He smiled across the distance, unable to keep his eyes away for long. She grinned widely in return.
She wondered how this might look now. She had been so wrapped up in Draco's steady grasp of security that she had forgotten that she would soon have to tolerate the incessant rumor mill with Theo's departure. They would surely say awful things about her for jumping to Draco so soon. She would eventually have to answer for her actions.
Eloise was quick to read her expression, dressed in either distress or longing. "You two working together again? Playing nice?" She joked.
Dahlia turned to her with a sudden, solemn expression. She decided not to dance around it. "Theo left," she replied casually, numb to it as if she had repeated the two words to herself a thousand times.
Eloise's face fell, and Xavier's demeanor stiffened. He gave Eloise a sharp look that insisted he had told her so. He had warned Eloise, who had then warned Dahlia about Theo. He had never liked them together from the start.
Xavier pulled Dahlia in for a quick hug and scrunched the top of her hair. "I can send a pack of dogs after him? Would that make you feel better?" He mumbled.
"No," she laughed into his chest. "He would probably charm them all with that ridiculous grin of his."
"Well, it's a standing offer in case you change your mind," he replied before releasing her. He wandered over to Draco, wanting to give them privacy.
Dahlia grimaced and lowered her voice. "He's not coming back to school," she mumbled. "He was branded a death eater on Christmas Eve. I guess he's decided to take orders from him now."
"Dahlia," Eloise sighed, stepping closer. "Do you think that's a choice?"
"It felt like it," she replied too quickly. She looked down to the ground and sighed. "I just, I keep trying to think back to find the exact moment where things shifted. I know I can't change anything — I know that."
She looked up sharply to reassure Eloise that she wasn't trying to attempt anything foolish. "But I just need to know where it went bad, or when he decided this wasn't enough for him anymore. When did he change?" Dahlia thought aloud as she kicked a rogue rock on the tarmac. "Or did I change?" She mumbled and looked to Eloise for answers only herself might know.
Eloise's face was written with pity. A heartbreak you couldn't understand was the worst of them. She inclined her eyes towards Draco. "I think he changed." She made a gesture with her hand to suggest dominoes falling into line. She shrugged, and shook her head as if maybe it was too much for Theo to handle, and the pressure from outside forces were too great.
Dahlia turned to the sky as a plane roared down the runway. She contemplated Eloise's answer. Draco had asked her once if things would have been different if he had noticed her first, instead of Theo. She knew in her heart that it wouldn't be — Draco had to learn from his mistakes and she had to grow from the pain she was still enduring. This was the rightful path. Draco would build an empire upon the rubble. The truth made it impossible to hate Theo, which only made her hate her own destiny more. She was afraid if she tried to understand Theo's actions that she might forgive him, and it was too dangerous to risk loving the idea of someone who was no longer around.
There was a somber moment where Dahlia found it quite poetic to stare at the planes landing from long journeys and taking off into the sunset to start new ones. Eloise wrapped her arms around Dahlia from behind. She rested her cheek on Dahlia's shoulder. Dahlia squeezed her hand tightly by her heart. She let a few rogue tears fall to cleanse her heartbreak.
"I don't want you to think I'm awful for loving Draco," Dahlia whispered.
"I'm always on your side, Dahlia. I only find it awful when you hide from yourself. Can I be honest?" Eloise murmured.
Dahlia nodded.
"I think you might have been the last to know that you're in love with him."
Dahlia took a shaky breath of regret. Draco's love wasn't equal to the hole Theo had left in her. They were different pieces. She could only hope one day that the scorched part of her would take root again.
She sensed him approaching from afar. Their bond only solidified and strengthened as they gave into each other. She knew he most likely could sense her heart-rendering regret and desolation that had been plaguing her all day. A part of her desperately wanted to return to the cabin and ignore it all.
Eloise stepped back, but Dahlia wasn't without for long. She felt Draco's strong arms wrap around her waist. He leaned over her shoulder to kiss her tears off her cheek. "I'm not sure I'll ever get used to seeing you from afar and knowing that someone as beautiful as you might be mine," he whispered.
Dahlia smiled but didn't respond. His mood shifted as he failed to lift her spirits.
"I know I can never replace him," Draco started hesitantly. He didn't know what exactly to say that might bring her comfort, and when he might be crossing the line. He didn't feel that they were completely on solidified ground yet as she was still tumbling through her emotions. He just wanted to take it all away from her by any means possible.
She shook her head. "I don't want you to replace him." She leaned back into his chest. "I love you." She reached behind her and ran her hands through his hair. "I love that I'm enough for you." She knew her words weren't fair to Theo, as Draco shared something cosmic with her, but the sentiment was true.
He squeezed her waist with reassurance and placed a gentle kiss on her neck as he murmured that he loved her too.
They watched one last plane take off before he finally gave her a nudge to take another step forward on their journey.
"Come on, Dahlia." Draco kissed her temple for a full beat of his heart. " It's time to go," he whispered.
She turned as Draco held his hand out for her. She noticed Xavier who was skipping up the steps of his plane. He flipped Draco an obscene gesture as he noticed their gaze from the short distance. Draco returned it with a grin. Dahlia took Draco's hand and led him across the tarmac. He followed patiently as she squeezed his hand twice for the long road ahead.
They once again took to the skies — ready to find answers.
—
The moon was still anew in the night sky when the Nott brothers passed through the iron gates of the Aldair Estate.
Theo eyed the grounds with intent perceptiveness as he strolled along the cobblestone driveway. The vast openness of the property deeply irked him. He much preferred the lazy gardens that surrounded his own home, or even the maze of hedges encircling the Malfoy Manor, over the bare, rolling hills for which Dahlia's gothic estate was perched upon. He wondered if Devereaux favored the grassy knolls instead of rustling trees so he could more easily spot unwelcomed prey — or hunt it.
He looked up at the dark-stoned manor and his stomach roiled. Ivy vines and unusually thick tree roots weaved up the stone walls of the manor and encompassed the roof entirely. The estate was nature personified as the wind blew the ivy leaves, imitating the rise and fall of soft breathings. It was as if it formed an interconnected network that allowed the house to become properly sentient. The glowing light from the arched windows peered back at Theo like eyes of judgement.
"Have you been here before?" Alex asked in a low voice. His attention steadfast on the elm tree that centered the circular driveway. It grew up from the cobblestone as if it had been too monstrous to cut down to pave over it. Dahlia had told Theo once about how she used to write wishes on pink parchment and tie them to the branches with gods-blessed string as a child. He looked carefully now for any traces of her dreams, but it seemed they had all decayed.
"Yes," Theo answered as if he was afraid to admit aloud his distaste. He had an irrational fear that the manor was always listening.
Theo noted his brother's dismay and hesitation as they approached the grand entrance of the home. He was glad he wasn't the only one who found the home unsettling. Theo glanced back at the elm tree as they walked up the stone steps to the front door. A dozen owls peered back at him from the unnaturally bent branches. He thought it wise to smile, hoping to inform the watchers of the home that he was not a threat, and he would undoubtedly die for the girl who had grown up within these walls.
Alex made no move as he stilled in front of the grandiose doors. He tilted his head curiously as he tried to make sense of the carvings before him. Theo stepped forward, and slowly sprung the knocker shaped like a rounded clock. It protruded from the mouth of a woman with no eyes. The profile of two other veiled women were carved on either side of her, emerging from her long curls. The knocker was cool in Theo's hand. He thought it was surely no coincidence that it was made of obsidian as the floors of the library had been. The carving served as both protection and a cleansing agent for all who enter the home.
"It's always been plainly obvious, hasn't it?" Theo grinned as if he was finally in on the secret.
"Is that a triple-faced goddess?" Alex whispered.
"No, although I'm sure that's what is intended to be assumed. They have no eyes — it's The Fates."
Theo fell prey to his swirling thoughts for a moment. He similarly remembered the glowing whites of Dahlia's eyes as she saw dimensionally during her vision. Theo had researched lineages tirelessly. The ancient divinity thinned and diluted as bloodlines continued. Technically, the ability of small divinations that all witches and wizards could perform was a blessing from the old gods — The Fates. The intuition of those with no magical abilities at all was the consequence of a slight brush of hand from the old gods, as well. With Dahlia's glowing eyes, Theo wondered just how close to divine perfection Dahlia might truly be, despite lineage.
"Dahlia said they showed her nothing when she strengthened her power. She could not see. How coincidental," he mumbled as he touched the place where pupils should have been carved.
Alex watched his brother brush his rough fingers over the smooth stone of the knocker once more. He shifted uncomfortably, suddenly aware of the magnitude of what his brother might be after. The omniscient temple of a home was evidence to a situation made real for the first time. This manor rose from pristine fields as a poisonous mushroom. The brightest things of nature are often the most deadly, he remembered. Theo was grasping something that should never be touched, no matter how alluring it might be. Dahlia was a disease to this earth. Doubt-ridden second thoughts crept up his spine. Alex no longer wanted to help his brother — he needed to save him.
The door swung open, removing the knocker from Theo's fingertips. A beautiful girl curtsied as to welcome them into the home. Theo noted the purple veining in the whites of her eyes. He shouldn't have been surprised Devereaux Aldair traded sickly sweet highs for discreet servitude. He wondered if she was a muggle, who had chosen this life as the closest means to magic, or if she was a squib. Either way, it wasn't his business.
"He is waiting for you both in the office," she said sweetly with her head bowed.
Theo watched his brother absorb the eerie grandeur with wide eyes as they followed the servant up the imposing staircase carved into the roots of an elm. Theo brushed his fingertips along the railing, remembering how beautiful Dahlia had looked the night they were here, and he had led her down this staircase.
The girl led them through a pair of double doors into what Theo assumed was Devereaux Aldair's office. He had refused to meet with them at the ministry for obvious reasons — he didn't want to be seen cavorting with the Notts.
The brothers stepped into the dimly lit room with plum walls. Theo's attention was immediately drawn to the crackling fireplace carved of cherry oak. Next to it, tilted on the bare floor was a monstrous painting showcasing the fall and death of Icarus. Nymphs wept over his broken wings. Theo shifted his gaze quickly, needing to observe the entirety of his surroundings. His eyes landed on the small glass boxes fastened to the opposite wall. They were lit as if they were displays in a museum. Within the glass encasings seemed to be rare animal bones. He pursed his lips as the pieces of a puzzle fell into place. Dahlia hadn't needed to go into the cavern to find a crystal to amplify her Sight. She would have had her pick of the lot within the walls of her own home. He felt as if they were chasing knowledge that was already old news to Devereaux. Theo was desperate to know what questions or learnings kept him up at night if he had spent decades researching seers. Theo's world threatened to spin. He looked upwards, away from the sick collection. He found it hard to believe Dahlia had never stepped foot in here.
"Good evening, Theodore," Devereaux Aldair said smoothly.
Theo glanced down from the enchanted moths of varying colors that swarmed a variety of small, glimmering jewel chandeliers that hung from the high ceiling. Devereaux sat casually on the arm of a wide amethyst chair, made of sensual velvet, placed behind a large obsidian desk.
"It's good to see you in one piece," he chuckled. He had the nerve to smile at Theo like a true father might.
Instead of offering a proper greeting, Theo studied the carvings upon the front of the desk. A while before, Theo would have dropped to his knees and begged the man for his acceptance. Now, Theo had no intention of offering him the smallest of polite gestures.
It seemed Devereaux had noticed his thoughtful stare. He tilted his head as if amused. "It's the Andromeda constellation from the northern skies."
Theo slowly lifted his gaze and raised his brow curiously.
"The Andromeda galaxy is the closest to our own. My wife used to remind me often." Devereaux sighed and looked down to his cane. "I hope I've just saved you the trouble of snooping around this time."
An arrogant grin perked the corners of Theo's lips. He remembered it had taken him hours to find those journals in the library.
"If I am one thing, it is persistent," he replied proudly.
"Now where are my manners?" Theo pointed to Alex as if he was a grand prize. "This is Alexander, my brother."
Alex stepped forward to shake Devereaux's hand, while Theo plopped down in a plush, violet chair in front of the desk. He perched his ankle on his opposite knee, and reached for a glass of unknown liquor on the desk as if he were lounging at home. Theo could tell Alex was internally seething by his unwillingness to show any shred of respect.
"Has Dahlia returned to Hogwarts yet?" Theo asked.
Devereaux sighed, unfazed by Theo's blasé demeanor as if he suspected such rudeness had been lingering beneath his false exterior when they last met. He squinted his eyes in pity as he walked around the desk.
"No, I would assume by her location that she is on her way to my late wife's holiday home. She will be equally safe there." Devereaux removed the glass from Theo's hand, and set it back on the desk with annoyance.
"You should know I had her magic trace removed from the ministry's monitoring system quite a while ago, in case you were hoping to keep track of her in that manner. You have proven to be quite stubborn and tireless, Theodore." Devereaux slapped Theo's ankle with his cane, forcing him to display proper posture. "I've also recently removed your trace, as well; you are welcome."
Theo said nothing. He only looked up at him under hooded eyes as he popped a piece of gum in his mouth.
"Does she know about this?" Theo waved casually to the wall stacked high with rare slivers of animal bones.
"What are you talking about?" Alex asked perplexed.
A slow grin spread across Devereaux's face. "She does not. Only those who have Seen can see these blessed bones. I was convinced Dahlia was ungifted for a long time because she couldn't; that my wife's curse had skipped a generation. What has My Moon shown you?"
Theo crossed his arms in agitation, realizing Dahlia's visions only started recently. He ignored his question. "I'm assuming you know what she might do with one of those bones?"
"I would hope not. Take a closer look," he goaded. "She would end up like poor Icarus," he chuckled, pointing to the painting behind Theo.
Alex placed a calming hand on his shoulder. Dahlia used to do the same to keep him physically in line when he threatened to cross the threshold into violence. It took all of Theo to resist as Devereaux antagonized him. The man in front of him had sold his own daughter to the Dark Lord. Now, he was their only means to complete the Dark Lord's orders so he might return to Dahlia again.
"Shall we finally discuss why we have requested your time?" Alex smiled pleasantly.
His grin was so sincere that Theo often wondered how they were related at all. He always considered himself the black sheep. His father hated Alex less than him, which he wasn't sure counted for much.
"I'm assuming it's about Azkaban?" Devereaux turned and began shuffling through papers on the desk.
"We need some coordination from inside the prison if we are to successfully execute an escape," Alex answered.
"I shall provide you with the proper precautions needed and an opportune time."
The brothers glanced curiously at each other, wondering what was up the man's sleeve. Devereaux sensed their discreet conversation and looked up from his papers.
"You do know the Dark Lord will accept nothing less than true terrorism? I hope you weren't planning on a quiet affair," he said earnestly.
"What do you want in return?" Alex inquired suspiciously.
"Nothing," he sighed before sitting in his chair opposite of them. He turned his attention to Theo as if pained him to admit a truth. "Dahlia is somehow fond of you. I would like to keep you alive for her own happiness."
Theo snorted. "That's rich. I've heard rumors you're negotiating what she might eventually be worth to the Malfoys."
Devereaux folded his hands on the desk. "What is pleasing for the public is not always what pleases her."
Theo ripped into the man as his match found the necessary friction. "I'm positive what pleases her is to do as she wishes. Besides, I'm sure she's worth nothing to the Malfoys as you've already sold her life to the Dark Lord."
Devereaux didn't miss a beat. "On the contrary, I've been promised there is nothing of equal worth to the Malfoys for her undoubted happiness, and guaranteed safety, in spite of the Dark Lord."
Devereaux chuckled at Theo's sneer. "Would you like to throw in an offer, Theodore?" He leered.
Theo shook his head and bounced his knee. "I don't need permission." He grinned horribly. "I don't deal," he whispered callously.
"No, you don't," Devereaux laughed. "The Notts are thieves costumed in finery."
"What did you do with the other journals?" Theo blurted.
Deveraux's face filled with surprise. He laughed loudly at Theo's candidness. "I like you," he grinned as he lit a pipe. "Terrified of how you might turn out, but I like you." He shook his head. "It's a shame."
It was a shame he wasn't respectable — Theo had thought it a million times. Alex dug his fingers into his shoulder as if he had made peace with the fact that they would never truly fit in within pureblood society a long time ago — they were nearly the worst of them. Part of Theo wished to be the worst — to be worth fearing if respect couldn't be earned. He wanted to shake her father, and make him list all the reasons he was indecent between blows.
This was a mistake, Theo realized.
He shouldn't have insisted on coming. Not even the ghost of her was here anymore. Dahlia would never forgive him for acting violently against her father — and he already had a laundry list of things to apologize for.
He stood rapidly. "We'll be leaving now," Theo said, feigning pleasantness.
Devereaux smiled in victory as he watched the boys shuffle out of his office. "Are you nervous to see your father again?"
Theo felt Alex pause and drop his grip from his shoulder. He turned to his brother, annoyed he was entertaining such a question.
"What if I told you that I could arrange for an unfortunate event to occur upon his immediate release, or even before?" Devereaux asked casually.
Theo saw a traitorous gleam in his brother's eyes. He knew Alex felt some sort of buried guilt for abandoning him with their nasty father as a child. Theo didn't know how to vocalize that the abuse hadn't been that bad compared to the years when his mother was around, as he had found hope in friends with his family gone. He didn't know if that truth would make the guilt better, or so much worse. Theo tried to pull his brother along to leave, but he didn't budge.
"No." Theo shook his head. "It's not what I want," he murmured.
"But is it what you need?" Alex asked with barren honesty.
Theo held his breath, then stepped back from his brother. He wasn't prepared to revisit the feelings he buried in the deepest depths within himself. He hit the wall fixed with glass cases and turned. His eyes widened, realizing they weren't animal bones. They were the remains of seers, preserved for all time in this dark labyrinth disguised as a home. He was suddenly nauseous.
"Think about it," Devereaux sighed.
Theo didn't wait for his brother as he stormed out of the office in a panic. He ran down the stairs of the manor and busted through the front doors. The owls within the elm tree took flight at the disturbance. Theo strode forwards and leaned against the elm. He ran his hands down his face, trying to calm his mind.
What the actual fuck, he thought.
Dahlia's father practically had a morgue in his office, and had offered to kill his own father as a mercy. He had offered it like some sort of truce, and his brother had considered it for an awful moment. Devereaux seemed so unbothered by his actions, even against his own daughter. Was this what Theo would become? He had killed someone so easily already. Would he no longer struggle through the wake of blood, but eventually float casually wherever the crimson tide of misery pulled him. How many horrors were required before someone's soul could no longer be wrung clean. He couldn't allow himself to become so horrible — a monster like both his and Dahlia's fathers.
Thee wind guided his face upwards towards the stars. He kept his head down and swatted it away. "I know. Fuck off," he mumbled. He knew the wind and the stars were in cahoots to bring him home to her.
The wind tickled the back of his neck. He finally sighed and looked up. A faded piece of pink parchment hung from a branch high above. The wind tore it, so the parchment would fall lazily into the palm of his hands. He flipped it over to reveal a less elegant version of Dahlia's sloppy handwriting. He smiled as he read: Tree, how are you? Amelia told me about cute muggle boys with weird superpowers that can stop bad things from happening. I wish for you to send one my way.
Theo crumpled the note and blew a magical flame on a steady breath. The parchment lit with a gentle light, and turned to ash.
He grinned and shook his head at her young hopefulness. There were no heroes to send.