Dahlia studied the mist rising off the Black Lake. The sun had not yet risen. She stood still as a ghost at the end of the boat dock, dressed in black, waiting for Draco.

She was in a somber mood. She twiddled her new necklace between her fingers, debating if she should throw it into the lake. The idea of being embellished in an object of his affection was almost too much for her bitter heart to bear, but the thought of no longer being his was unfathomable at the moment. She wanted to toss it to the mermaids out of pettiness, but she figured she could use all the protection they could manage with the task ahead.

There was no room for anger in her heart. He had filled it full with sweet promises, then paralyzed its beat as he receded from her. She felt barren, numb, but mostly embarrassed. She had cared for him so deeply that she had screamed it to the entire world. Now, she would have to shrung in disappointment as people whispered why he no longer held her hand. It was a painful reminder of why she had always preferred to keep true romance out of her orbit — if you spun too close to a screeching star, you would inevitably get burned.

She couldn't imagine a world where he no longer cared for her. Logically, she knew the best course of action was to keep him as far away as possible. She reminded herself ceaselessly that he had only left her to keep her safe. She rationalized his actions to stifle her heartbreak. She prayed to the Fates to guide him back to her — and to also knock him off his broom during quidditch practice. She saw how he paled at heights.

Although he had claimed that she shouldn't have told him, it would have been impossible hide at some point. She knew he would find out eventually if they continued on. She stood by her decision to tell him sooner than later, and potentially risk lying to him — which she wagered was a larger offense in his eyes. IF only she hadn't misread the bloody stars, taking their song a sign to tell him. She sighed heavily. She hadn't expected him choosing to leave her instead of accepting her.

She didn't really believe that he had only pursued her for the sake of his competitive nature with Draco. If that had been the case, he most likely would have told her to stay away from Draco long before last night. It's not like Draco was actively pursuing her either. She wondered if it would drive Theo to madness if he equated that both Dahlia and Draco were missing today.

She reflected on her decision to keep her current journey a secret from him. Would he have stayed if he knew she had already set her mind to strengthening her power, if only to protect her? That keeping his distance was pointless if she was already conspiring with Draco? Or would he have ran faster away from her? Of one thing she was absolutely certain, he would never allow her to meddle in such dark, misunderstood magic.

She heard approaching footsteps cut through the fog. She turned to see Draco prowling towards her, armored with his usual, bored scowl. He made no niceties as he walked into the boathouse. He waved her over to a nearby barrel. He was wasting no time. He was dressed in back as well, and appeared quite animated for five in the morning. She followed him to where he now stood, feeling ashamed of her puffy eyes.

"Show me where we are going," he demanded as he placed his hands in his pockets.

They huddled closer to strategize. She pulled out her book from Professor Trelawney and placed it on top of the barrel. She read the passage out loud quietly. "Located in the depths of the coastal caverns southeast of the South Sea Bog, an abundance of amplifying crystals are rumored to be found."

He crossed his arms and huffed sharply. He tilted his head in disapproval and gave her a frustrated look. "You didn't pack a map?" He admonished her in disbelief.

"No? Was I supposed to bring one?" She answered pleasantly. She was confused as to why he would assume she had. If anything, he was the one who needed to bring a map since he'll be navigating them.

"For fuck's sake," he exclaimed. He ran his fingers through his silver hair in exasperation. He threw his hand back down, "and I'm sorry, did you say 'rumoured' to be found?"

She was quiet as she shifted her weight uncomfortably. She had come too far for him to leave her now, too. She needed just one thing to go her way.

"I don't think I've ever heard you say sorry before," she quipped as to distract from the subject. She knew finding a random cave depicted in a decrepit book was a long shot, but getting him here was half the battle.

He ripped the book from her and flipped through its pages. He sighed and met her gaze with coldness. "It was sarcasm, Aldair. If you're expecting an apology for what I've said to you — you won't get one."

She didn't respond. There were no words in that moment that would have compared to Theo's much crueler ones she had just endured only hours ago. She was numb to unkindness. He looked up at her expectantly for a snide remark that never came. Wariness crossed his brow as he noted her uncharacteristic silence. He closed the book with a thud, sending dust into the blackness of the morning.

"Come on, we should leave," he muttered.

He took her backpack and headed out of the boathouse. He sat on his broom under the fading starlight. Dahlia awkwardly stood there unsure of where to sit. There was a limited amount of space in front or behind him.

"Get on," he ordered impatiently. Dahlia moved to swing her leg behind him but he shoved her away.

"In front of me, you idiot. I don't need you flying off. Then whole trip would have been a waste of my time," he sneered.

She moved to sit in front of him, her heart racing. She was mortified and started to doubt if she was willing to take the trip if she had to ride like this the whole way. She tried to maintain a distance between her back and his chest.

"What you've never had a guy this close behind you before?" He teased.

She didn't need to look back to know he was grinning at her discomfort.

He lifted off the ground and the force of the wind instantly pushed them closer together. She could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck with every inhale he took as her back pressed against him.

"Maybe we shouldn't tell Pansy about this," she joked as she tried to ease her own awkward feelings.

"She's not my girlfriend." He paused. "On the other hand, I can't wait to tell Theo about this. Cozying up with his school girl crush," he teased.

She rolled her eyes. "Save your breath. We're on the rocks."

"So soon? Then I would take off that family heirloom," he said in a low, mocking tone. He ran his fingertip along the back of her neck, lightly tugging on the clasp of the necklace.

She turned and slapped away his hand. "You know Malfoy, I think I prefer your silent treatment. You're far too chipper in the morning," she stated with irritation.

They quickly soared off the dock and flew into the sunrise. They had made it past the castle under the cover of early hour darkness. They didn't speak any longer as they settled in for the journey.

They had been traveling for about two hours when she started to fall asleep. He felt her drift off and roughly patted her cheek to keep her awake.

"Ow!" She rubbed her cheek.

"Let's stop for water." He lowered to the ground beneath the cover of the trees. She got off the broom and shook her legs out.

"Are we almost there?" She whined.

He raised a brow incredulously. "Dahlia, we're still technically in the valley of Hogwarts. Do you not know basic geography?" He scoffed.

She pursed her lips in a sour mood.

The sun had risen, and in the early morning light she was able to properly take him in. He was wearing a black crewneck sweatshirt and matching joggers. It was a crisp day as winter was surely approaching. She was dressed similarly in a warm, black athletic set. She noticed his crewneck had an embroidered silver 'M' on it. She snorted.

"What?" He asked as he threw her backpack down in front of her. She rummaged through it and handed him the water she had packed. He took it from her without a word.

"'M' for Malfoy, I'm guessing?" She asked with a hint of provocation.

He followed her gaze to his crewneck.

"Don't start with me," he sighed. "We've had a decent morning." He was unfazed by her comment. He took a swig from the water canister. His sweatshirt rose to reveal a glimpse of toned muscle beneath it.

"You're welcome," she quipped.

He didn't respond. His hair had been windswept and began to wave in the morning dew. He was flushed from their journey. He noticed her staring and smirked. Dahlia blushed. She realized that this was the most civil they had been in their whole life.

"So what's the plan when we make it past the bog? Is there a specific cavern I should be looking for?" He squatted down in front of her as he began rummaging through their bag in search of something else.

"All I know is that goblins used to mine in the caverns. Hopefully that will make any entrances to the caves more obvious from above," she answered amicably.

He stood and paced as he thought. "There's only one way to get near the mines and to the coastal caverns. We have to take a passage through the ravine." He stopped pacing and faced her.

"This is going to take quite a long time, Aldair. I hope you know what you're doing. Hypothetically, If we were to find a crystal, what are you even going to do with it?" He rubbed his hands down to his face conveying that this was becoming much more than what he had agreed to do.

She ignored him as she flipped through the decrepit book, looking for more clues. She wasn't sure how to tell Draco that she planned to unleash an awful spell upon herself and he might possibly be returning without her. He would probably enjoy the ride back in spacious peace, she thought.

"It says they need salt water to thrive. Maybe we check the cliffs off the ocean for cave openings?" She remarked inconspicuously. She was throwing darts in darkness.

He snatched the book from her and perused its pages. "Answer me," he demanded as he tore his eyes from the book to give her a hard nod.

"I'm going to spellbind it's power," she sighed as if it was the most obvious answer to what anyone would do with a crystal.

"Do you know how?" He smirked. "If we're basing your magical abilities off your performance in potions, I'd say we're fucked." He grinned playfully.

His smile and banter threw her off-kilter. She attempted to rip the wings off the butterflies that threatened to dance in her stomach. She had to remind herself that the man in front of her had whispered hurtful things and shoved her around several times.

She walked closer to him as she replied, "I mean, I've practiced the words a few times." She took the book from his grasp and held it up dramatically. She waved the book around and as the ancient binding faltered and a page fell to a ground, she replied sarcastically, "it's not exactly written clearly."

He shot her a hard look, then slowly spun around as he took in their location ominously. "Come on, let's get out of here," he finally spoke.

They journeyed throughout the morning and afternoon, stopping occasionally for water and snacks. The mid afternoon sun attempted pierced through the whipping clouds as Draco and Dahlia soared downwards to explore an old mine. He abruptly accelerated towards the ground, and evened out moments before landing on the plush grass. He heard Dahlia yelp and cringe as if they might crash. He snickered at her terror.

"You did that on purpose," she accused in annoyance.

He grinned at her as she dismounted and stretched. "I'm a seeker. What did you expect?" He replied as he pulled his gloves off. He smirked, then looked down.

She stepped forward and glanced around the base of the mountain where they had landed. She peered up at the colossal ridge before her. They had finally entered the ravine. Wildflowers bloomed between the darkened rock.

"Should we explore?" She asked, looking back at Draco with her hands placed on her hips.

He shrugged, "do you feel anything…different?" He inquired as he stepped forward to stand next to her, looking forward at the beast of rocks. She had also thought she might sense an amplifier once they had gotten close. They both gazed into the ominous black pit that had been carved into the ravine centuries ago.

"Do you think I would be able to?" She asked seriously. She peered up at him with sincerity so he would be able to tell that she wasn't mocking him.

He met her gaze sharply and quickly rolled his eyes. "I don't know, Dahlia. You tell me," he replied rhetorically. She was the expert in senses.

She glared. This might have been the first time he had called her by her first name, or the first time she had noticed it. It was crisp on his tongue. Theo often drawled it out wonderfully.

She mustered bravery and walked forth towards the mouth of the mountain. Draco was hesitant to follow. She turned around. "Scared, Draco?"

He looked up at the mountain with a hidden expression. He took out his wand and followed her.

They entered the cavern, the afternoon light quickly abandoning them. They both lit their wands before the darkness consumed them both. They came to a crossroads as they approached two tunnels veering in opposite directions.

"Should we split up?" Dahlia didn't admit the thought terrified her.

He looked around nervously and replied, "I don't think that's a good idea."

"As you wish," she sighed casually. She closed her eyes and attempted to sense a way forward that might lead her to what she so desired.

Draco snorted next to her. "Using your little powers?" He snickered.

She slapped him in the chest. "I can't sense anything," she replied with disappointment. She made an impulsive decision to take the tunnel on the left. Draco followed wordlessly. The air chilled the farther they went. The light from their wands only lit a few feet in front of them now.

She took a chance. "Is this worse than the Forbidden Forest, you think?" She asked him slyly, referencing their detention together a few years ago.

So did he. "Nothing is worse than the Forbidden Forest," he replied and laughed lowly. "I'm starting to wish those Centaurs had carried you off, then I wouldn't be-"

A scream ripped from Dahlia as she suddenly slid down a slope they hadn't expected in the darkness. Her wand escaped her grasp as she reached for Draco. It was too late — she tumbled to the ground below and landed on what appeared to be sand. Her wand had been deluminated as she searched feverishly through the sand for it.

A hard body suddenly slammed into her. She grunted in pain as she tried to push Draco off of her and detangle their bodies. "Get off of me!"

He growled in response as he now searched for his own wand in the depths of blackness. He was panicked, too. He accidentally touched her upper thigh and Dahlia slapped his hand away.

"Careful!" She hissed.

"I should have left you here to rot," he spat in frustration.

Dahlia crawled away from him as she searched the sand. She finally gripped something hard and felt that it was a wand.

"Lumos!" She casted.

It sparked, angry to be casted by anyone but its master, then lit. She had found Draco's wand. She quickly handed it to Draco who used the light to find her own wand. He brushed away the black sand on his knees as he spotted it. He picked it up and wiped it on his shirt, cleaning it for her.

"Here," he said handing the wand to her.

A wave of relief washed over her. She lit her wand and stepped forward. She heard water splash below her feet. She looked down as the water began to glow around where she stood.

"Draco," she said breathlessly, "come look!"

She bent down and ran her hand through the water. A trail of brilliant blue, incandescent light followed her fingertips. She smiled at its beauty. It seemed to be a lake that shimmered with a thousand droplets of broken jewels. Draco stepped beside her as he leaned down to run his own hand through the water. He looked up at her stoically as she watched the dazzling luminescence dance.

Her eyes met his own. She was suddenly beguiled by the way he appeared in the shimmering light. His eyes glimmered. His white hair glowed as the ice blue hues danced across his hard, cruel features. She looked away, embarrassed that she had stared for too long. He said nothing as he stood too close for her comfort, but he didnt take a step back.

He instead stilled. "Do you feel anything?" He murmured quietly.

She knew he was referencing her ability to sense an amplifier, but the question felt loaded. She wondered if he felt the same horrible urge too, to press his lips to hers just once. No one would see, no one would ever know here. Her bones were aching as something bloomed, or rotted, within them. She had never hated herself more than in this moment because she knew if he leaned down, she wouldn't have the willpower to resist.

"I-I don't think so," she whispered as she combated the urge to touch his face.

She heard his unsteady breath as silence blanketed them. He was preternaturally still. "I don't like this place. There's something unsettling about it," he replied darkly, looking past her.

He seemed just as flustered as she felt. Draco pushed past her harshly. Dahlia's pulse slowed. He began searching for a way to exit the expansive cave. They agreed their best bet was to climb up the slope they had fallen down. Draco managed to climb to the top of the hole first. He reached down for her hand. She took his offered help without pause as she struggled. He lifted her up onto the cold, stone floor of the tunnel. He stood, yanking her up with him.

"Let's just get out of here," she whispered.

He nodded in agreement. She grabbed his arm, but he strode forward, shaking her grip so his hand would fall into hers. She didn't object as he lead her out of the darkness in a hurry. They soon saw sunlight and Dahlia dashed towards it. He chased after her until they emerged back in the ravine.

They closed their eyes, adjusting to the sunlight, and exhaled with relief once they made it through the mouth of the cavern. Dahlia looked at Draco as he put his hands behind his head, winded. She began to laugh at the circumstance of it all. Theo had dumped her, she had just crawled through a dirty cave miles away from Hogwarts, and she had somehow formed an amicable alliance with Draco Malfoy. She shook her head at him as a humorous grin spread across his face, as well.

"Fucking hell," he chuckled in disbelief of their circumstances. He watched as Dahlia approached several abandoned carts that had once been used for mining.

"Get in the cart," she demanded with a hidden giggle.

"We don't have time for this," he said trying to wrangle seriousness into his expression.

"Wait. Come look!" She yelled, waving him over.

He assumed she wanted him to search inside the ancient, rickety thing. He pushed his hair out of his face and walked over to her. He stepped inside one of the wooden carts and looked around to see what she had found.

He lifted his gaze to her at the same moment she kicked the cart with a deadpan expression. Draco was thrown back with a grunt as she watched it roll down a small hill. She threw her head back and laughed, then slowly chased after it. He fell over as the cart slammed into the side of the ravine. She ran up to the cart as tears of laughter threatened to escape her eyes. He couldn't maintain his contempt for her and eventually cracked. He started laughing, too.

"Dead to me, Aldair," he said with a roguish grin. He shook his head.

It was nice to put aside their differences for the day. They felt lighter the farther they traveled away from their responsibilities. Getting away from the castle where so many of their problems resided seemed to do them both good.

"We're done here," he said sternly as he climbed out of the broken cart. He pushed her playfully to walk back up the hill.

They once again took to the skies.

They searched the ocean cliffs long after dark. Draco could feel Dahlia shivering as the evening chill took hold. "I don't think we're going to find it," he sighed in defeat.

"We have to. Please, let's keep looking," she begged. She was desperate to find it.

"Dahlia, I think we should look when there's daylight. Let's give it a break. We're both exhausted," he said softly but sternly. Draco tried to reason with her. They were both growing weary as the night had fallen. "We'll find it," he assured her.

They landed near the edge of a cliff that overlooked the roaring ocean. It crashed against the rocks below with a great force that slammed into her ears. The salt spray misted the air.

The gods were restless, she thought.

She looked up to the night sky for guidance. For once, she heard no whispers. She had the sense she was right where she needed to be.

They walked towards the edge of the tree line where they felt a bit safer. They didn't want to be spotted by any drifters. "Eloise gave me her tent just in case this happened," she said, kneeling as she slung her bag on the ground.

She muttered a spell into her backpack, and a small tent materialized in front of them. Draco was starting a fire to combat the cold. He pushed up his sleeves. Dahlia stilled as she saw the dark mark upon his arm.

She thought for a moment that it must be so freeing for him to be in a place where he didn't have to be worried about covering up the black ink that doomed his life. She refrained from commenting on the mark as to give him some peace, but he noticed her gaze.

"You want to see it," he asked her in a mocking tone.

She walked towards him. Draco had only asked her in jest. He hadn't properly gaged her level of curiosity. He thought just the sight of it would frighten her. He suddenly realized he didn't know her at all. He reached out to her as she approached. She pulled his forearm closer to her. She tilted her head as she studied it with a blank expression. She moved to place her fingertips on it.

"I wouldn't," he remarked rigidly, but he made no move to pull away from her. He was worried it would spark some sort of reaction from her or the dark mark. It seemed to be sentient.

She looked up at him, kindly concerned. "Does it hurt?" She whispered.

"Sometimes," he sighed. "I can feel my pulse beating within it when I'm angry."

He had never really talked about it. He had been irrevocably branded and marked as a murderer. It weighed on him greatly. He enjoyed the power that accompanied pureblood ideology, but he wasn't sure if he could kill for that reason alone, even though the mark made him thirsty for it.

"So, that's what? All the time?" She joked to lighten the mood. She gave him a small smile, and he could suddenly grasp why Theo felt insecure about himself around her. She carried a hopeful aura that was unjudging. He pitied her for overlooking such wickedness. There was no goodness in either of them — there was nothing worth searching for and nothing to pull from the murky depths of their souls.

She let go of his arm and walked to the other side of the fire. She took a seat on the grass and crossed her legs. "Draco?" She called faintly.

He quickly thought that was his favorite way she had ever said his name. "What, Aldair?" He sighed, ready for some quiet peace.

Her eyes lifted, unassuming. "How do you know my father?"

He stilled from throwing branches into the fire.

The question had been decaying inside her for weeks.

He contemplated how to answer it delicately. "I don't. I just said that to get under your skin," he lied. He felt a disgusting need to comfort her in this moment. He knew what was going on as he was a part of the greater plan. He couldn't imagine how it might feel to wander aimlessly like prey in the darkness as the Dark Lord approached, readying to take his seat in power. He continued, "my father works with your father. I'm not privy to their dealings. He comes around from time to time."

She was quiet as she waited to see if he would provide anymore details.

He sighed as her wide eyes wouldn't let up. "I've never seen the dark mark on him, nor have I ever seen him in the same room as the Dark Lord. But, if you want my advice, you should really take this up with him."

He looked up from the fire that separated them.

Dahlia wondered if he was telling her the whole truth. She didn't push, knowing they still had another day together ahead of them. They couldn't afford to have a fight at this point. He might leave her stranded amongst the bluffs. She was somewhat relieved by his answer, but she would definitely be doing some snooping of her own when she got home.

He seemed talkative so she continued asking questions. "Are you going to hand me over to Voldemort? If this works?" She asked quietly. It was her greatest anxiety.

He stiffened and looked up at her with a ghastly expression, whether because she said the Dark Lord's name or because she was questioning his intentions.

"Don't tell me is hasn't crossed your mind," she pushed. She pulled her knees to her chest, feeling exposed.

"No, that is not an option to me," he said tightly.

She suddenly felt insecure for reasons unknown. "I told Theo I'm a seer," she admitted. The words tumbled out of her. She couldn't stop herself as her emotions cracked through her well-crafted guise. He was so rational and sure of himself, it was oddly comforting.

He leaned his head back as if disappointed. He let out a thick, haughty breath, "and?"

She was quiet for a moment before mumbling, "I don't know where we stand now."

"I'll take care of it," he grunted, adding another item on his to-do list.

He angrily tossed a tree branch into the fire. He looked exhausted. Dahlia could only imagine what she looked like. She sensed he was done talking and walked inside the tent. He followed her moments later.

She saw it first. Her stomach hit the floor. She was trying to ignore it and hoped Draco would too as he stopped abruptly next to her.

"Aldair, why is there one fucking bed in this tent?" He was lethally calm.

"I told you, Eloise gave me this tent. I didn't exactly have another enchanted tent lying around last minute," she spat back in frustration.

"I'm not sleeping on the floor," he said defiantly, shaking his head.

"Ever the gentleman, Malfoy." She gave him a sarcastic grin.

"I've never slept on a floor in my entire life." He crossed his arms to hold his ground.

"There's a first time for everything," she replied lyrically as she stepped further into the tent.

"I'm the one who brought you out here in the first place because you can't fly a damn broom."

"And I'm the one who has to cast a powerful, ancient spell in the morning. Shouldn't I be well-rested?" She retorted, plopping down on the bed. He glared at her.

An hour later, they both laid on their backs on opposite sides of the bed. They stared at the ceiling as the one singular pillow the tent had provided was stuffed between them. This was probably the closest he had been to a girl on her back, fully clothed.

She broke the awkwardness filling the air and asked, "so what do I owe you after all of this?"

He was quiet as he spun his signet ring around his finger. The action reminded her of Theo. "Theoretically if this works, I need your help discerning if there is a way to fix an object I'm working on," he answered.

"That's it? You don't want me to see if I can forge a path for you where you can stay clear of the Dark Lord altogether?" She asked curiously.

He looked at her with pity. "You know there is no path through this that isn't blood-soaked, right? It's too late, Dahlia," he whispered. Draco stopped to think, then added, "is that what you intend to do for Nott?"

She didn't speak. He took her silence as confirmation. He chuckled at her as if she were a child, or dense. "The only way Theo is getting out of this is if he ran for the rest of his life. Probably living in conditions similar to this," he said, gesturing around them.

"He won't do that. He won't leave his friends or his father behind, despite their rocky relationship. He's not firm in the cause, and neither am I honestly, but he can be monstrous for people he loves. We're alike in that way, but he can be much more impulsive and destructive — and unhinged, dare I say."

She felt her stomach drop and her eyes turn hot. The words only hit this hard since Theo had told her something similar just last night. She rolled over on her side. She was terrified he would see her cry. She tightened her jaw and willed herself against emotions. No one, especially Draco, would see her tears.

"I think you're right Draco. I am a fucking idiot," she admitted in self pity.

How could she not have seen this? Was she that delusional that she thought Theo would just want to run away with her? That it would be even possible if he did want to run with her?

Draco felt the urge to comfort her but withheld. He knew she was close to crying but didn't let on. She looked like a weeping angel from the paintings in his home. "You aren't that idiotic. Maybe naïve to the situation, and unknowledgeable to all the pieces on the board, but not an idiot," he said quietly.

She didn't answer him.

"If I got one thing right, it's that you most definitely are a nightmare," he chuckled.

She took the pillow between them and hit him with it. He snorted and grinned unapologetically. He was beautiful. It was her worst thought.

She sighed in frustration and pulled the pillow back to her chest. She embraced the comfort of his silence and his suredness. She hated to admit that she felt safer with him around. Dahlia fell into a dreamless sleep as exhaustion overcame her.

Hours later, Dahlia fluttered her eyes open to the golden morning light. The sat air hung thickly. She felt Theo's bare chest against her lower back as her crewneck had crept up her stomach during the night. She pushed back against him and an arm tightened around her waist, pulling her closer. She felt his hardness and softly giggled. He let out a sleepy groan.

She opened her eyes, becoming cognizant of where she was.

She was physically horrified to realize she had mistaken Draco for Theo, and she had even tried to engage in explicit activities while he slept. She silently covered her mouth in shock and tried to remove Draco's hand from her stomach, careful to not wake him. He had innocently slipped his hand under her sweatshirt to hold her close while they slept. No, they were just cold — huddling for body warmth as one does in the wilderness. He pulled her back gruffly as she tried to squirm away.

She opened her mouth, wishing she could scream. It was the fuel of nightmares. Fuck the glorified rocks, and fuck this fucking tent.

"Stay here," he mumbled, sleeping peacefully.

She managed to shift onto her back, covering her eyes so she wouldn't have to witness the outline of his morning curse as it pressed against her back. Once safely rolled over, she urgently patted his face.

"Wake up, Draco!" She screamed in a whisper.

He opened his grey eyes slowly and rolled onto his back, as well. He wasn't the least bit startled that they had cuddled while they slept. Dahlia's mouth fell agape as he pitched his own large tent, unbothered. Dahlia scurried out the small bed, falling, then crawling on ground as she could get away fast enough.

Draco rubbed his face, then suddenly sat up with a confused expression.

"Draco, where is your shirt!" She yelled, looking around frantically. She was flustered as a blush plastered her cheeks. He was far too fit. It was awful — the way her own body reacted was absolutely awful.

He turned to her in a daze. He looked around as if trying to piece something together. Something like pain finally cracked in his expression.

"We were…" His voice drifted softly.

"Yes, and we will never speak of this." She paced, fidgeting with her hands.

"No," he stated with soft desolation.

He stood, and walked over to her with urgency. She stepped back, almost hitting the wall of the tent. He lifted her sweatshirt over her head as she flailed against him. She fought him as he removed her clothing and threw it on the bed.

"Draco! What are you doing!" She screamed in shock, pulling away. She wrapped her arms around herself as she was left standing there in her bra.

His eyes were riddled with confusion, chaos. She felt utterly exposed. Dahlia grew worried he might actually hurt her as he refused to let her go, but he only spun her and lightly traced her back.

"It's gone," he said in disbelief. His voice showed that he was nearly broken.

He stepped back from her as he grew more alarmed. Sorrow washed over him as he realized that what they had done, what he had experienced, wasn't reality.

"Dahlia, did you not come to me last night?" He mumbled quietly, running his hands through his hair in obvious distress.

She turned around to face him, and he continued deliriously, "you brought me there and we-" he paced, "you..did it...and it left markings on your back."

"What are you talking about?" Her voice shook. "We found the crystal? In your dreams?" She asked him quietly in fear. Dahlia approached him slowly, worried he was going to have a full mental breakdown.

He pushed her back. "You come to me almost every night! You know what I'm talking about!" He yelled in her face as he knocked over the nightstand. She flinched as he towered over her.

Dahlia grabbed his face to calm him with shaking hands. Her brain raced for answers. He had clearly had a vision of her but what was he talking about? How long had he been having visions of her?

"It's alright," she calmly whispered to soothe him as she cupped his face. "I have them, too. They are only meant to guide us. I know they are vivid, but it wasn't real," she whispered firmly. Her hands slid down his neck to his bare chest, resting over his heart. "It was only a dream."

His eyes fell with a deeply cutting understanding. She let go of him and took a step back, composing herself as much as she could manage as she stood barefoot in her bra.

His shoulders fell as he stood still. Heartbreak written on his face. "Dahlia, I…" He couldn't bear the weight of what he knew. His chest caved with something close to sob. She stepped up to him immediately, placing her poisoned touch on his heart once more. "It wasn't real," she repeated in a sweet murmur, rubbing his biceps.

Her words meant to soothe, but they only tore him apart.

She filled the stunned silence. Her hands cupped his cheek, centering his gaze. "Okay, we are going to follow the same path from your dream, and we are going to find what we came for, then get out of here."

He clenched his jaw as a cold rage was quick to devour him. He grabbed his sweatshirt and walked out of the tent.

Dahlia winced as he tore away from her. He no longer appeared confused — he looked hurt.

Draco stormed into the cold, pulling his sweatshirt over his head. He stopped when he got to the edge of the cliff. What he remembered had been too vivid to be a simple dream.

She had taken his hand and pulled him out of bed during the witching hour. She led him deeper into the forest as he heard endless whispers. They hissed for him to fulfill a bounded need — a destiny. She led him down a staircase carved into the cliff's side. She had guided him along the black sand beach, slowly undressing with every step she took. She had removed her protective necklace, dropping it into the sand thoughtlessly. The stars rained down on her as if coming home, and the ocean had roared as the tides reversed. The sand burned white under her feet.

He knew then; she wasn't like them. His throat dried, threatening to weep in reverence. He had said nothing in awe. She looked back and stated all-knowing, "you have to be cleansed to see, Draco."

He followed her, by will or entranced; he wasn't sure. He stopped at the precipice of a cavern as she entered. He instinctively knew this place was not meant for him. She slowly stepped into a pool of a thousand refracting diamonds — a pool of starlight. She turned around and graced him with a loving glance before she slowly disappeared beneath the crystallized depths. She was gone for a horrible minute. He panicked. The sudden absence of her was overwhelming.

Then, she resurfaced. Dahlia's head bobbed up again, and she emerged anew from the sacred water — naked, dripping wet and holding a jagged, black crystal. She came to her knees in the black sand and held it serenely within the palm of her hand. He blinked, and no sooner, she began pushing the ghastly crystal straight through her own heart. Nausea and shock ricocheted as he witnessed her break her own bones, unbothered. Blood streamed down her arms. She smiled as she screeched the most horrid sound he had ever heard.

He went to her then, and dropped to his knees. Draco was truly frightened that he might have only brought her out here to die. He held her as she transformed from a broken dove into something more — something otherworldly. Her hair turned white and shone brilliantly for a moment. Her skin glowed as if it had been infused with the constellations. She was moonlight incarnate, and he was breathless to witness it. An inscription formed on her skin beneath her heart and flowed to her back in swooping motions as if the wind had written it.

"It's okay," he had whispered to her. She looked up, then gently kissed him.

It was as if a thousand eyes opened. An infinite amount of possibilities seemed to exist in front of him. He had never chased such a high. She removed his clothes, and they had gotten lost in each other through all of time. She had opened for him if only to share the knowledge of lost and found worlds. Her breathless moans had carried the promise of their singularity. He saw upon her divine, bare skin endless visions — they played as children in the gardens; he spun her in ballrooms; he blew out birthday candles as he held her in his arms; she kissed him in salty waters under a summer sun; he caught her stumble in a grassy meadow; he saw her kiss a blonde child; he saw her weep beneath the stars drenched in blood. When they finished, she kissed his cheek and whispered, "your path is where mine ends."

It echoed in his mind now. It hadn't been Dahlia. It was something else. What did that wretched creature mean? He no longer yearned for a path that wasn't hers, anymore.

Dahlia got dressed and threw her hair up into a bun. She stepped out into the morning and packed up the tent. Draco was standing near the cliff's edge, looking out hopelessly into the distance. She came over, stood next to him and gently rubbed his arm. Something had changed between them. Despair radiated from him as if his world had been turned upside down. She no longer cared about their differences. She would let it go. They could dig up that grave another day. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. He didn't return the gesture, but he didn't push her away either. She felt him tremble.

She started to wonder if his malice was a mask he wore to the world around him. Perhaps he was cruel because he had been haunted. Possibly, she realized, by her. Maybe, in a lifetime where great love stories persisted, this would have been the moment he laid his cards on the table. But it wasn't.

"Let's go," his voice broke.

She pulled away and cupped his face. "Are you sure? We can go back," she whispered gently.

"No, we aren't going back. I know what we need to do." He was steadfast.

She quickly grabbed their things, and he urgently led her into the forest. He gripped the sides of his temples like he was in agony. She had asked repeatedly what was wrong, but he refused to answer her.

Draco wondered how Dahlia managed the endless hissing and raging whispers. He couldn't stand it.

They were silent until they came across a set of carved stairs that led down to a small beach. He motioned for her to follow him. She reached for his hand to help her climb down, but he refused to touch her, almost terrified of her. She finally made it down to the beach, and they began walking again. The unruly waves beat against the black sand as if the tides were amiss.

"This is the way," he said confidently.

"You saw this in your vision?" She asked curiously, trying to keep his quick pace.

"You led me here. You took off your clothes and entered this cave right up there," he answered as if he was explaining what she had missed in class.

He pointed ahead to a small opening inside the jagged cliff. Her eyes fell upon it. Then she felt it. She almost doubled over in agony. This wasn't a cavern of crystals or a grave of prophecies — it was a graveyard of oracles themselves. A sacred place where the Fates placed the souls of seers. This was where their whispers originated. The anguish was unbearable, but she pressed on.

"I took off my clothes?" She asked in disbelief.

"Yes. You said that you have to be cleansed to see," he said adamantly.

Dahlia whimpered in pain. She thought her mind might combust. Draco made no attempt to relieve her physical agony. He looked nervous to even be standing so close to her. She had never seen such a look on a man's face. It was as if Draco had died and faced the gods.

Dahlia was breathless by the time they approached the small cave, newly lightheaded. She couldn't believe they were actually doing this.

Indeed, Dahlia saw a pool of liquid crystals with heat rising above it. It was black, yet entirely clear. Shooting stars dashed across the reflection. This was where she would be cleansed. She felt in her bones that this was her path — her becoming.

The whispers grew in number excitedly. The bones of her ancestors lay washed and sunken below the fragile, cosmic surface.

"What did I do after I took off my clothes? I want to get this right," she said decisively.

He paused as a flash of pain crossed his features. "You dove into the pool and arose with a black crystal." His throat bobbed. "And then you pushed it through your own heart. It transformed you into something…else."

"Into what? I have to know," she begged him to continue.

It was something terrible, she realized. He appeared to be questioning everything he knew to be true. He looked at her with a newfound reverence, a sincerity.

"Into something…godly," he answered as he looked into her eyes with sorrow. "You showed me glimpses of my life — or different lives."

"Draco, I don't mean to upset you. You don't have to tell me what you saw. You don't even have to watch this," she nodded at him, promising that she could do this on her own.

He rubbed his hand across his forehead in obvious distress. He walked away from the cavern, leaving her to step into her power alone.

Dahlia took a deep breath. She shook in terror as she undressed. She knew if she hesitated she would talk herself out of doing this.

You must, she mentally repeated.

She stood bare before the void and swallowed anxiously.

She thought of her mother for courage, then took an adamant step into the pool of stars. It pulled her to the center with a sharp yank on the map of time beneath her skin. She heard a thousand voices whisper to her. She circled recklessly in fear, panic ensuing. But it hushed her bones, then she began to cry. She had never felt such belonging and comfort. The thousand whispers sung and welcomed her home. They promised her an empire.

She dunked her head under the water, letting her intuition guide her. She heard a million new voices as if time was happening all at once within the endless constellations that she swam through. She dived deeper into the refracting darkness, a void or portal of sorts, until something rubbed against her fingertips. She screamed as it burned her hand.

Spite towards the crystal's defiance bled into her. No, this was hers — it all was hers. She took hold of it, mortal skin burning, and retched the ghastly crystal from the earth. She clenched it like a lifeline.

The voices quickly hushed in astonishment. Fear prickled her skin as the silence frightened her. She panicked and kicked upwards. She swam swiftly, directionless in the void, as her lungs burned for air. She gasped, suddenly repelled, and breaking through the surface of starlight.

Through blurred vision, she spotted Draco as she coughed and struggled. He had come back for her. A great relief blanketed her panic. He helped pull her out of the void as the stars dripped from her bare skin. He had assumed he was unwelcome here, but they had called him back. He wrapped her in her own sweatshirt, then took off his crewneck to wrap her bare legs.

Dahlia didn't care that she was naked. She pulled her knees into her chest and huddled into herself. She was in complete torment. She had been heaved from the mystical depths and the voices had gone silent. The soothing whispers abandoned her, just like her mother had. She wept as she grabbed her wand.

She didn't hesitate. She was vengeful that the void of starlight, the souls of seers, had rejected her. She placed the crystal on her knees that were bent to her chest.

"Dahlia, pleas-" Draco cried behind her.

She whispered with her wand pointed at the onyx stone, "terra et astra, sanguis vitae, inanis temporis, firma meum spectaculum."

A blood-curdling scream erupted from her lungs as she doubled over in the sweetest misery. It was a euphoric come to power at the cost of white-hot, searing pain. It was as if she was being branded.

The voices returned, encouraging her to push through it. She thought she might have heard her mother — it was. Tears escaped from her eyes as she felt her mother's embrace. It was everything she had not known she needed.

But the voices mutated — they transformed into gargled screams. Dahlia covered her ears and wailed. It was as if a thousand seers had their throats slit at once. It was grotesque, and she whimpered in terror. An array of colors took hold of her vision, she could no longer see at all. She was blinded by the bloodletting of time itself.

Draco pulled her back into his arms. He watched in horror as the stone infuse itself into her skin. The ugly thing molted and slowly seeped within her pores. Her body felt too warm. She writhed in agony as if her bones were being broken and reforged. He muttered in shock. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Dahlia. I'm sorry."

When she screamed once more, tears of blood escaper her eyes.

He panicked. She was going to die. Draco's heart raced in horror. A new rage fueled him at the realization she had forced him to take her here, only to show him how much he could love her, and then watch her die twice.

"You fucking monster," he roared furiously as he thought quickly. Draco had never hated her more. He grabbed her charmed necklace. He hoped it would protect her from the horrid side effects from this dark magic. In his white rage, he ignored the painful tightening of his own heart and the burning of his own skin. Words and symbols began to etch into her side. The inscription was forming just as he had dreamed it.

"It's alright. The worst is over," he cooed as he held her tightly.

She eventually quieted. Draco kept waiting for her to appear before him as she did in his visions, but nothing happened. She went limp in his arms from exhaustion. He kissed the top of her head as mumbled in a trance, "they're screaming…their wretched tongues…they won't stop, they won't stop..their throats… the wicked…please…why won't they stop." She sobbed, hyperventilating in terror as her mind floated somewhere in the ether where he couldn't reach her. He must have held her for hours before she came back to him. He kept her close for each one of them.

He felt her finally shift within his stiff arms. "Dahlia," he whispered urgently.

She pulled away from him and began to sob, finally cognisant. She didn't seem to care for modesty, but he began to pull her sweatshirt over her head just in case. He had been too scared to move for hours, worried any shift might cause her discomfort.

"What happened? What did you see?" He asked fervently.

"My mother," she cried softly. "And her mother and so on."

It was all overwhelming. Her body felt foreign. Her heart weighted.

"But you transformed…Did you see them? You showed me infinite visions." He was exasperated, making sense of it all himself.

"I showed you nothing, Draco," she cried. "That wasn't me! It was a dream!"

He fell silent, almost angry she was unappreciative of what he had done for her — what he had endured, too.

"Please take me back," she choked.

He obeyed without a word more. He peered out of the cavern. A storm gale blew his white hair wildly, but the sun was emerging. The waves softened as if a need had been fulfilled.

Their lives moved forward, twining themselves together.

Dahlia was silent for the ride back to the castle. She couldn't believe she hadn't had a vision. They had blinded her instead, showing her the blackness and blurring of time. She had tried to see everything but they had tricked her and left her in a blackened pit. Was she being punished?

And worse, Draco had been the one the Fates had led to the cavern and graced with their visions of the Sight instead of her. She felt rejected by her own kind, like she had been branded as a traitor instead of gifted with strengthened Sight. She couldn't piece together why her senses had urged her to go into the pool in the first place. Her ability felt no differently now. This had been an utter waste of time.

They stopped in the afternoon, about halfway through their journey. They needed water and to rest. Draco grabbed the canteen from the backpack and handed it to her as she sat down on a rock overlooking a small valley. The trees before them were a kaleidoscope of yellows and reds. It was beautiful.

They hadn't spoken, and it was eating him up.

"I'm sorry about you mother. I know she passed," he said hesitantly. He didn't know what to say. He could barely process what he had seen and witnessed. He was running on adrenaline.

"I'm going to be fine. I'm just shaken," she said attempting to cut through the surface and get straight to his intentions.

He didn't pry, so she told him everything. "I heard a thousand whispers when I went into the pool. It was like they were welcoming me home. But then when I took in the crystal, the voices turned into screeches. They blinded me. I couldn't see anything at all. I only heard things. I heard my mother. She comforted me and held me in her arms while the spell was completed."

He couldn't bring himself to tell her that it hadn't been her mother. He had been the one that held her and whispered those words.

They arrived back at the castle well after dark. They landed in front of the wooden bridge that connected a cliff to the south entrance of the castle. A heaviness filled the air as they realized how much had changed between them since they were last here. He couldn't fathom how he was supposed to go on now, like everything hadn't been altered. His whole perspective had been shifted.

"Dahlia, I-"

She glanced to him with a broken, numb look. He wanted to fix it — be a more permanent part of her life.

He was interrupted by footsteps running towards them. He saw Eloise Dawson carrying a blood-tracking map. Juliet Hart and Theo were behind her. His heart dropped. He desperately needed this moment alone with her. His soul had also been permanently remolded.

"Are you alright?" Cried Juliet as she ran to wrap her arms around Dahlia. She gave her a tight hug.

"I'm fine," Dahlia said emotionless. She didn't move to embrace her back.

Juliet stepped away as Theo hastily approached her. She made no move to step away from him. He bent down in front of her, his eyes scanning her for any injuries. He ran his fingers across her cheeks. Her lip quivered as she broke. He stood taller as he wiped dirt off her temple.

Draco watched as she crumbled into his chest.

Theo stiffened as if this hadn't been what he expected. He quickly improvised. "It's going to be fine," he whispered. He wrapped his arms tightly around her.

"I'm so sorry for what I said to you." He kissed her forehead and tucked her safely under his chin as she sobbed uncontrollably. He glared at Draco, gliding a hand through her unruly hair.

Juliet approached and rubbed her back. Eloise stayed back carefully monitoring the situation.

"What happened, Dahlia?" Juliet asked quietly.

"They rejected me," Dahlia mumbled. "They casted me out, so I tried to take it all, and they left me with nothing," she sneered.

Draco strangely felt as if his own heart was breaking beneath a new shade of rage. It was unfamiliar, yet all the same. He reached for her unknowingly as her back was turned. To his surprise, she lifted her head from Theo's chest and came to him.

She took his hand with sincerity. "Thank you Draco, for taking me."

She dropped his hand, and he stopped breathing momentarily. He watched as her friends huddled around her and led her back inside the castle as she cried.

Draco finally looked to Theo, a barbaric rage drenched in a ghastly sneer held true in his features. A line had finally been drawn, and there would be no reconciliation.