Nell awoke the following morning feeling, in many ways, quite sick. The Pandorette was the first thought on her mind and the only one that lingered in her head all throughout breakfast and morning lessons. At one point, Daphne secretly passed her a muffin, which alerted Nell to the fact that she had barely eaten anything, too wrapped up in her thoughts. She nibbled the sugary blueberries, but found the normally decadent taste now unappetizing.

It wasn't a surprise that Draco noticed. She caught him staring a few times throughout breakfast, then again more intently during their classes. She had expected this. Besides, she had already resolved to tell him, a decision made at some point in during her near sleepless night or the confusing dreams that had haunted the little rest she managed.

Nell's mood took another plummet when she saw Susan Bones in Charms. Though nothing had actually changed between the two, seeing the Hufflepuff's easy smile and friendly face shot Nell with a whole new round of unfamiliar guilt. Before, Nell could hide in the thought that Susan was being a little judgmental for having spurned their friendship just because of who Nell's mother was, or because of the Slytherin house placement that she couldn't control. But now, Nell knew that it ran deeper. She had hidden her identity from Susan when she first met her because she was afraid of the stigma associated with her mother's name. She had no idea of the personal history between their two families. What Ottilie Hemlock had done.

But Susan clearly had. And, to her, it must have looked as though Nell had purposefully hidden her identity from the relatives of the people her mother had killed personally. Nell was sick to her stomach to think of how Susan must have felt when she realized the girl she had been talking to on her first train ride to Hogwarts was the daughter of someone who had destroyed her family. No wonder Susan never spoke to her again.

She almost wanted to run over and apologize, to tell Susan she had no idea that her mother had killed her family. But even Nell could tell this was an urge that would do more harm than good. And could she even be pardoned for her ignorance? She thought her not knowing was somehow even worse – coming to school surrounded by people that might have been personally affected by her mother, refusing to learn their names and their tragedies out of a selfish desire for ignorance, all so that Nell wouldn't have to face the legacy that preceded her.

By lunch, Draco started to look angry, and Nell was feeling more miserable than ever. The waking hours she spent ruminating had done nothing to ease her confusion over the letter, the grief she had to confront all over again about never having a mother, or the conflict she felt in mourning a woman who had caused so much death herself.

So, in a moment of desperation propelling her to talk to someone who already knew all her secrets, she broke the cold war that had been waged between the two of them. He was, afterall, the friend she had once felt closer to than any other. She needed to talk to him.

As the rest of the Slytherins filed into the Great Hall, Nell grabbed Draco by his sleeve, and pulled him away from the milling crowd.

His face flashed a second of soft relief, before morphing into his standard scowl.

"Talking to me again, are you?" he asked her with a sneer that lacked its usual heat.

"It's important," Nell said. "But not here. Come on."

She led them away and back to the common room which was thankfully empty. Nell asked Draco to wait while she fetched something from her room and he agreed, but only after several patented scoffs and comments about how he wasn't a dog she could just boss around.

When Nell reemerged with the Pandorette, the ice in his demeanor melted.

"Nell, have you…?" Draco asked, his eyes wide and his face pale.

Nell nodded. "Daphne recognized it. It's a whole thing… called a Pandorette. Anyway, come on. Let me show you."

She walked with Draco out of the Slytherin common room and they slipped into an empty classroom in the basement.

The room clearly had not been used in many years, and layers of dust settled on the various tables that sat abandoned and tucked between stacks of boxes, leaning and old. Together, they pulled out two rickety chairs and sat at the cleanest table they could find, Nell using her sleeve to wipe away the dust that still lingered on it. Draco coughed, and commented about the castle's lax standards, and Nell gave a small laugh.

Nell sat the box down and retrieved the sewing pin that Daphne had let her keep from the side of the Pandorette where she had affixed it with a bit of spell-o-tape. Draco watched with a mixture of fascination and revulsion as she dragged her fingernail along the side, revealing the glimmer. She closed her eyes as she pricked her own index finger, and opened them only so she could aim the bead of ruby red blood to where the box demanded.

"That's… barbaric," Draco said, when Nell explained the concept of the bloodline connection.

Nell shrugged.

"Give me your hand," Draco demanded, as the box unfurled itself.

"Why?" Nell asked.

But Draco just huffed and grabbed her hand all the same. He pointed his wand to the finger that was still lightly bleeding.

" Negsecare ," Draco said, while he moved his wand in a little criss-cross.

Instantly, her finger healed, the reddened skin stitching itself back together.

"Wow," Nell said, examining the once again smooth skin. "You've gotten good."

"Had a lot of practice," Draco said. "Quidditch and all that."

"Right," Nell said, as the memory of Draco's shout at Hermione brought itself to the front of her mind uninvited. She banished it for now.

"You do know that blood magic is considered a form of dark magic?" Draco asked her, pointing at the box.

"Is it?" Nell asked. "Daphne said that the Pandorette boxes are common in pureblood families."

"I'm sure they are. But that's definitely blood magic," Draco said.

"And you care about dark magic now?" Nell asked, her eyebrow raised.

"No, but I thought you did," Draco said.

Nell paused, thinking, but had no response. She continued with the Pandorette instead, and pulled out all of the objects she had studied last night with Daphne. She handed everything to Draco, and let him parse through it all himself.

He read the letter first, and Eleanor watched as he'd break away at points, to stare suddenly at Eleanor, as if he were trying to read the reactions she already had the night prior.

"That was… sentimental," Draco said finally when he finished.

Nell nodded, not really wanting to delve into it again. Draco took the hint, and put the letter aside.

The next thing she showed him was the necklace. This time, however, she removed it from the box. When Draco handed it back to her, she started to try to work the clasp in the back.

"What are you doing?" Draco said, suddenly loud.

"I thought I'd try it on, I dunno."

Draco snatched the necklace from her hands. "Are you mad? You've no idea what curses could be on this necklace!"

Nell reached for the necklace, but Draco held it away from her. She pouted, and asked, "Why would my mum leave a cursed necklace for me?"

"Maybe she didn't know, or maybe there's a note in here about how it's a wonderful weapon she hopes you'll get plenty of use out of," Draco shot back. He took the box the necklace had come in and put it back inside, closing the lid with a sort of finality.

"It's just a necklace, Draco," Nell said with a sigh, but giving up. Draco might have had a point.

"Here's a bit of advice. Don't go around trying on random necklaces in the wizarding world. You wouldn't believe the things that are out there," Draco said.

Nell rolled her eyes, but listened all the same.

Draco looked over the wand box next, confirmed he didn't know what Sickersnapper meant, but that Daphne was probably right about it being the name of her mother's wand. He read over the newspaper clippings without much excitement, and Nell wondered distantly if Draco had already known about all of the crimes that might have been associated with her mother. She didn't know if that made things better or worse.

When Draco got to the marriage contract that mentioned his dad, he recoiled.

" Merlin! Your grandparents wanted my father to marry your mother?!" Draco demanded, his eyes glued to the certificate.

"Appears so," Nell said. "Good thing your grandparents said no, or neither of us would be here."

" And Sirius Black?" Draco asked, having moved on to the other contract. "That's my mum's cousin!"

"Regulus's brother?" Nell asked.

"Yes," Draco said, before looking up. "I'll have you know that my parents were not an arranged marriage, by the way."

"Well good for your parents, then," Nell said.

Draco hummed, and continued reading over the certificates. "It's a very traditional pureblood thing, you know, going about an arranged marriage. Do you remember last year when my parents forbade me from marrying you?" Draco laughed suddenly, and Nell smiled at the memory.

"Trust me, I'll never forget," Nell said.

"If the Hemlocks were so traditional…" Draco trailed off, thinking. "I still haven't figured out why they weren't in the twenty-eight, you know."

"Oh yeah," Nell said. "Last year I thought it was because maybe they didn't care about the pureblood stuff. Like the Weasleys, right? They weren't included because they married muggles and muggleborns."

Draco nodded.

"Guess that's not the case here," Nell said, with a sigh. It had been the one hope she had been holding out on. That her mother was an anomaly and Nell had come from good people.

"Certainly not. I mean, the Malfoys, and the Blacks… Those are two of the purest pureblood families left. The Hemlocks clearly had a goal for Ottilie."

"Why else would a family not be included?" Nell asked. "In the twenty-eight, I mean? If they weren't blood traitors…"

"Well the Pettigrews kept turning out squibs, so that's why they weren't included," Draco said. "But that's the only other pureblood family I know of that's not listed."

"Maybe the Hemlocks kept turning out squibs too," Nell said.

"Maybe…" Draco answered, but he looked unconvinced.

"It doesn't matter, I guess," Nell said. "It's just another mystery on this whole sodding pile, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

Nell showed Draco the notebooks, the endless empty pages. Then the memories, still floating their weird dance in the vial.

"Well, for the memories, we can use the pensive at the manor," Draco said.

Nell perked up, her mood lightening for the first time all day. "Really? Oh, that would be wonderful. Over Christmas, then?"

"Er… no," Draco said. "I'm staying at Hogwarts, actually, for Christmas. The raids…"

"Oh."

"But this summer, certainly," Draco said. "We can work something out. Father goes on plenty of business trips— we can figure it out. You could travel by Floo or something."

Nell grimaced, but nodded, distantly trying to count how many months they had left in the year.

"And as for the notebooks," Draco said, pulling one of them open. He laid it out on the table before them and pointed his wand at the pages. "Aparecium!"

Nell watched with hope, but nothing happened. Draco tried the same spell again and got the same result.

"Er… I have another, but I haven't exactly gotten it perfect," Draco said, straightening his posture, and focusing. "Revelio!"

Nothing.

Draco sighed, pouting. "Must take something more complicated. Or I might have just not done that one properly."

Nell nodded, knowing that disappointment had crossed her face again.

Draco watched her for a moment. "Are… are you alright?"

Nell looked up and found an uncommon expression of concern across Draco's pale face. It was a nicer sight than the sneer that usually held residence.

"Yeah… well, I dunno," Nell said.

Draco waited.

She continued, "I guess… it's just that letter that she left. It… it was weird to hear from her like this."

Draco nodded. "Is it the only message she's left for you?"

"Yeah," Nell said, pesky tears suddenly erupting behind her eyes. She sniffed and shook her head to try to rid herself of them.

Draco sat with her in silence as she composed herself. Something about the peaceful quiet made her feel better, though. Just being around Draco reminded her of how she felt around her dad, comfortable and safe. Like she didn't have to pretend to be anything other than who she really was.

She could tell distantly that she'd be having a much harder time ignoring Draco after this. Mudblood shouts and all.

"It's also about the other things she said," Nell said. "In the letter, she wrote that she wanted me to use the Pandorette to understand something. But I've no idea what I'm meant to understand. All I've got here is some news articles about loads of people dying, some textbooks I could probably find in the Hogwarts library, notebooks I can't read, and a couple of rejected marriage proposals. What is all that supposed to tell me?"

"I… I dunno," Draco said.

"All I understand is that I'm from a family with those same awful pureblood politics as the worst of them and that the blood in my finger is the same blood as a violent murdering Death Eater," Nell choked out, the tears reappearing.

Draco stared, his face unreadable, and Nell sat back, admittedly feeling a bit of relief to have spoken aloud all of the thoughts that had been swirling in her head.

"Maybe she just wanted you to know where you come from," Draco offered. "Wanted you to understand her or something. Family is important."

"Yes, I know. But I've got a family already with my dad. I don't need any reminders that I'm related to the Hemlocks."

"Eleanor, you're the last of the Hemlocks," Draco corrected.

"And what good is that to me?" Nell asked.

Draco paused and thought. "Whatever you want it to be, I suppose."

The words cut off any response Nell had left, and they sat in the silence of the dusty dark classroom.

Their reverie was broken with the sound of the bell, clanging loud and sudden. Nell rushed to repack the Pandorette before she stuffed it back into her bag, and she and Draco walked together to their last class for the week, History of Magic.

"So, are you going to go back to ignoring me now?" Draco asked suddenly, tearing Nell away from her thoughts.

And Nell was forced to confront the greater picture.

"Draco…" she sighed. "I… it's just that I can't— Look, I'm upset with what you've been doing and saying lately. First to Hermione, then with that weird writing… I've never…" But the words were difficult, especially now.

Draco sighed. "I know."

Nell shot up, and stared at his pale profile. "Then why have you been doing it? Why were you so mean to Hermione?"

"Didn't you hear what she said to me?" Draco demanded. "She accused me of buying my way onto the team! Said I had no talent."

"Well, to her, it looks like you did," Nell said. "You do realize that I'm the only person who knows about all of the practice you've been doing."

"It was still mean," Draco said. "Aren't you the one always getting mad at me for being mean?"

Nell sighed. "It was mean. But she was defending the Weasleys from you. You were making fun—"

"Ah, yes. The Weasleys . Need I remind you that it was Arthur Weasley targeting my family all summer?"

Nell chewed her lip, thinking.

But Draco continued, "Do you realize that you only ever get mad at me for being mean? You never defend me."

"That's not true!" Nell shot back automatically, but thought. Had she defended Draco? She certainly hadn't said anything to Hagrid after the horrible detention he subjected Draco to last year. She couldn't, she reasoned, because Hagrid was still a member of the staff, and she didn't have the backbone to criticize an adult like that.

Then there was the pixie incident. She had brought up Draco's points about the car and the photographs to Ron, Harry, and Hermione, but she never made a move to get the trio to sympathize with Draco in turn. She agreed when they called him a git, and said nothing to his defense.

And then, in Diagon Alley, when Hagrid called the whole Malfoy family rotten to the core, Nell sat back and said nothing again. And Draco hadn't even done anything, not really, at that moment. But she had stayed quiet all the same. Yes, Lucius Malfoy had been horrible, but how could Nell criticize someone for who their parents were? Had she ever been so hypocritical?

Nell knew that Draco was certainly no innocent. He could be cruel and selfish, or carelessly insensitive. He knew how to say just the exact thing to cut the deepest when someone was weak or vulnerable.

But he could also be kind, and protective, and fiercely loyal. He could use that same knowledge of people to say exactly what they needed to hear, and to lift them up in a way that was so subtle, they wouldn't even realize he had done it.

But even though Nell knew this, she realized she had never spoken it aloud to anyone. She never made an effort to try to get everyone else to see what she did. She assumed that their friends could learn to let Draco's stupid comments roll off their backs like she did. She thought they would eventually see how it was all an act, and that it wasn't the real Draco, no matter how convincing he might have been.

And now, from Daphne, Nell knew that the act wasn't something solely of Draco's making. She knew now that the pressures that weighed on Draco were the kind that few of them could ever understand. Because not everyone got lucky with parents like Arthur Weasley or William Capulet. Sometimes they had Lucius Malfoys or Ottilie Hemlocks.

"I'm sorry," Nell said, finally.

Draco stopped short, as if surprised. "You're sorry?"

"You're right. I should have defended you too," Nell said.

Draco looked confused, before he nodded slowly. "Er– thanks."

"But you've got to stop with the whole mudblood thing," Nell said, whispering the word. "Okay? Look, I get it. I know it's because of your parents and this summer. I know you're just trying to prove something."

"What?" Draco asked, his face somehow even more shocked. "How… what do you mean?"

"I know that your parents were mad because they thought you had turned into a blood traitor or something. But, Draco, it's not worth it, alright?"

"You don't know what you're talking about," Draco said, sneering as they reached the classroom.

Nell sighed, resolving to bring it up later. She knew convincing Draco to forget about his parents' expectations would take more than one quick conversation on the walk to a lesson. So she put it on the back burner, and walked into class with him. They sat together for the first time since September, and Nell finally started to feel a little better.