Only Draco and Theo remained outside on the wooden bridge. The wind whipped as it shook the wooden rafters above in a teasing whistle.
Theo silently watched Dahlia head inside the castle cradled by her friends. She, unfortunately, took his sanity with her. He counted her steps, waiting to drop his mask of composure until she was out of sight.
Theo slowly turned to Draco as she faded into the dark distance. Draco appeared exhausted and delirious, but Theo was running on rage and adrenaline. He was lethally irate. How could Draco have done this to him? Steal her in the night. What had he told her? It was the betrayal from the likes of a brother.
He leaned back against the wooden railing, fidgeting with the need for violence. "Did you have a lovely time, mate?" His voice full of malicious sarcasm.
Draco was unresponsive. He had yet to process the weekend's events, and he wasn't in the mood for this confrontation.
Theo continued, only fueled by Draco's silence. "Did you cry about your father on her shoulder? Get a little too cozy?" He taunted, crossing his arms over his chest as he glowered.
If it was anyone else, anyone who wasn't nearly his own blood, he would be dead.
Draco's jaw clenched as he resisted retaliating. The last thing Dahlia would want to hear is that they had come to blows after the traumatic events she had just undergone. This squabble would only result in more stress on her shoulders.
Theo pressed his tongue against his cheek, dissatisfied that he wasn't getting the rise he wanted out of Draco. He switched gears, implementing a different tactic. That was the crux of falling outs — Theo knew all the right things to ignite the perfect destruction. He knew Draco's deepest insecurities, his wishes, and where he was most vulnerable.
"You looked pretty whipped, mate. Should I get you a leash?" He chuckled darkly. "It was written all over your face when she came to me. I bet you would love to know what it's like to fuck her," he taunted. He leaned his head back against the post and closed his eyes, "she makes this delicious noi-"
Draco wrapped his fingers around his throat. Theo only smirked in response.
Theo had gotten his answer — that nothing had happened between the two of them over the weekend. If something had taken place, Draco would have been quick to throw it back in his face.
Theo leaned into Draco's grasp around his throat, "I don't care that you were chosen by the Dark Lord. If you touch her, I will make your poor fucking mother bury you."
Draco shoved him by his throat against the wooden pile and stepped back. Draco took a breath and exhaled, calming his simmering hatred. How had they even gotten here? When had he started hating him like this? He thought he might have always fucking hated him. He wasn't even worth this. Draco had grown blasé with his outburst over the years. They were repetitive, becoming intolerable. Theo had grown grossly predictable in his unpredictability.
Theo noted Draco's expression swiftly morphed into a cool mask, unimpressed and entirely unconcerned.
"Say whatever you fucking want. It's irrelevant. This is a waste of my time. I want you to know, while we were out there, sharing a bed, I saw her future — and it was with me, not you."
Theo was still, for once, in absolute fury. He gripped his wand in his pocket, sawing his jaw and fighting the urge to curse his closest friend. He looked out into the valley, thinking of how much Dahlia would hate him for it. She couldn't know just how much he loved darkness.
Draco shook his head, snickering at Theo's struggle to resist the worst parts of him. He laughed because he knew just how awful he was for her, and she would soon see it too.
Draco disapparated, sick of the sight of him.
The wind blew softly, cooling his skin as a treachery buried itself within Theo's heart, and he knew it would soon fester.
————————————
Dahlia couldn't quite recall her dreams.
She was emotionally spent, but she was actually quite rejuvenated after a good night's sleep. She pulled up her shirt to confirm the tattoo was still there, and she hadn't dreamt her weekend with Draco.
She got out of bed and began getting ready for class. She snuck into the shower without waking Juliet or Eloise. Underneath the scorching water and truly alone, she let herself uncage all of her emotions. She shook with anxiety.
What have I done?
Her bones ached with change and her skin felt newly born. She panicked as she tried to scrub off the marking that had formed from the wretched crystal she had forced into herself. She had been branded with dark magic. Her tears mixed with the flowing water as she came to terms with that what she had done was irreversible.
She felt no different and completely reformed at the same time. A strange, endless well of power now resided within her, but she wouldn't dare to speak of it. Too strung out the night before to even notice the dormant blackness within it.
She grabbed the skin by her heart, attempting to physically pry the dark nature of the newfound power out of her. She sat on the floor of the shower, attempting to calm herself. She imagined Draco behind her, soothing her like he had during the worst of the spell. She quickly chastised herself for the thought. She didn't know where she stood with either Draco or Theo anymore.
Theo had consumed all of her thoughts since the moment she had arrived this year. It was a steady form of love that was growing in her heart. Then, he had left her. Draco had came in like a reckoning through divine intervention and had held her hand while she had cracked through the stars one by one with bloody knuckles.
Theo felt like home. Draco felt like the universe calling, but did he even want her? He appeared terrified of her. She shook her head, not wanting to think of either of them. They had only gotten her to this awful point. Theo was brash and overbearing, while Draco could be cruel and so incredibly jaded.
She exited the bathroom in a towel as her roommates stirred awake. She sat on her bed and attempted to apply some makeup, emotionally drained. She was dressing when Juliet quietly offered to braid her hair for the day. She must have sensed her anxiety.
"Can we plan to debrief your weekend during dinner?" Juliet asked softly, placing Dahlia's hair into two French braids.
Dahlia nodded, the first sign of life she had given them.
"I can't believe Theo knows I spent the past two days with Draco," Dahlia sighed.
"He seemed more concerned for your safety than anything. You should talk to him," Eloise added from the bathroom. She was crimping her copper hair.
"He was quite frightening, Dahlia. He practically burned down the Ravenclaw common room to interrogate us about your whereabouts. He quite literally cast an advanced fire charm within the castle. Students were lucky the common room door is spelled with protection," Juliet revealed gently, not wanting to add stress.
"How did he get in?" Dahlia asked, confused.
"He guessed several riddles but the door wouldn't open. I'm not totally sure how he got in, actually. He is quite clever," she answered.
"Honestly, he might scare me more than Malfoy," she added under her breath.
Eloise snarled in the short distance like a poked beast. "He stormed in and demanded we speak with him. He noticed the blood tracking map on my desk. It went downhill from there."
Dahlia mulled over their words. She was too afraid to ask how her friends now felt about him. She didn't want to know how their opinions on their relationship may have altered over the weekend. She still couldn't make her own peace with the violent nature inside him.
"When did he piece it together?" Dahlia asked quietly.
"Sunday morning. He asked me where you were Saturday and I covered for you, as friends do," Juliet sung.
"Apparently, it was Amelia who had given it away that there was no family emergency. She claimed she would be the first to know if your father was troubled. Because you both are fools, Draco had also used that same excuse to get away for the weekend. It wall all too suspicious for Theo's liking, so he tried to burn this place down."
"Ugh, of course. It's always Amelia, isn't it?" Dahlia quipped, unsurprised. "Should of coordinated with Malfoy."
They couldn't help but laugh at the thought of how that conversation might have gone. Amelia had probably told him rather bluntly that she had most likely lied to him about her whereabouts after calling him a fucking oaf. Although she was genuinely upset she had hurt him, that thought gave her a small, sweet satisfaction after he had broke things off.
Juliet patted the top of her head. She wore her best encouraging smile for Dahlia. "Your hair is done! Go face the world, my little champ!"
Dahlia grimaced.
She walked with Juliet to Advanced Potions. Her stomach churning with nerves at the thought of facing both Draco and Theo within the same class. She begged the gods for answers as to why there had to be assigned seating.
She placed her book bag on her desk and took a seat next to Draco. He noticed her take a seat, and turned back to his textbook. His expression was unreadable. She fought the urge to reach out and touch his arm or thigh. She could tolerate his hatred, but this lukewarm facade towards her was torturous.
"Hey," she murmured.
His clear grey eyes met hers, and she bloomed with an ounce of happiness.
"You look…better," he noted nonchalantly.
She went to put her hand on his thigh to ask what had gone wrong, but he pushed her away wordlessly. Slighted by his rejection, she retreated into herself.
Theo walked in seconds from being late, per usual. He walked right past her and proceeded to sit across from Amelia. He met her eyes from across the classroom with an indecipherable gaze. She could tell by the way his jaw ticked that he was more than displeased. Amelia glanced up as she noticed the tension and gave her an assuring nod. Dahlia was relieved to know that she still had her friend by her side.
The rest of class was miserable.
She could understand why Theo was angry, but Draco's silence grated on her heart. She now realized just how much their time together had mattered to her. She had gone through something borderline traumatic and he had walked with her through it. She had also witnessed him have a full mental breakdown and had quite literally pulled him back from the cliff's edge.
But within these castle walls, he was hardly even her friend. On what terms did that leave them? The reality that she had possibly perceived their time together as something it wasn't, which left her deeply dismayed. Having to tolerate him and his contentment for over an hour sent anguish and confusion humming through her veins as if it had a pulse. She was lost in her misery when Professor Slughorn pulled her aside and into his office near the end of class.
The students snickered. She could feel Theo's eyes on her as she walked into the office. He was watching her more intensely than usual. She had awoken something a shade darker within him.
Dahlia took a seat in the leather chair opposite of Slughorn's desk. The potions office always smelled rather off-putting. She covered her nose politely as she leaned on her elbow.
"I think you could benefit from some tutoring, dear," Professor Slughorn sighed, rolling into his chair behind the desk.
Dahlia's eyes went wide. This was a different terror.
"Professor, please. I just need to focus. I've been having a really hard time," she begged.
"I asked Mr. Malfoy, but he has declined. I'm certain Mr. Potter would be happy to help you. He is my brightest star," he stated in resolution.
She pleaded in hushed murmurs as if she was afraid people would overhear through the door.
"Professor, reall-"
"No, no. I have arranged it. You'll meet in study hall Friday morning."
Dahlia remained seated, refusing to accept it. "Is there something my fa-"
"Now go, go." He waved her off, not even wanting to hear it.
She exited his office, absolutely mortified. Her father would kill her if he found out her grades had fallen so far. Had she really been that distracted? How could she be so irresponsible?
She let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed her face in annoyance, hating herself. Her pristine castle walls were crumbling all around her — her love life, her grades, her reputation and her Sight. She grabbed her book bag and flounced out of the classroom before class officially came to an end.
Draco shot Amelia a questioning look with a raised brow. Theo moved to follow, but Amelia stopped him as she held out her arm.
"Fucking territorial baboons," she muttered under her breath. "Just give her some damn space."
The tense air of the room was disrupted by the sound of glass shattering. Amelia turned to see Pansy tossing empty vials at Draco. His distressed look to Amelia regarding Dahlia's departure had triggered her. She had barely recovered from the news this morning.
Amelia refused his call for help. Draco deserved Pansy's wrath.
Professor Slughorn emerged from his office and waddled over to Pansy. She dashed out of the classroom, leaving him in her dust as she strode off in a rage. Professor Slughorn sighed, knowing it was pointless to try to keep up.
The whole class fell into a horrible awkwardness as Pansy called Dahlia's name. It echoed through the open door of the classroom. They held a collective breath as the perfect storm made landfall.
Dahlia was halfway down the hall when she heard it, a shrillness.
"Dahlia Aldair! I'm fucking talking to you!"
She turned, and saw Pansy Parkinson moving towards her like a force, a viper ready to strike. This was beyond Dahlia's tolerance. She couldn't maintain her composure any longer. Of course Pansy had found out, and of course Draco had probably lied that she wasn't his girlfriend.
"What do you want?" Dahlia spat irritably. She was at her breaking point.
"I want you to stay the fuck away from him," she answered, wheeling her hand back. She slapped Dahlia across the face. The blow landed, splitting her lip.
Dahlia felt a thrill skitter down her spine. She nodded maliciously, assessing the blood in her mouth. The pain of the slap had been just a prick compared to what she had just gone through. She would have to try harder than that to hurt her. This was the perfect outlet for her rage and frustration that had been brewing inside her all morning. Hell, all these fucking years of politely apologizing for things that weren't her fault.
Dahlia didn't opt for her wand — she wanted to fight. Maybe she was more like Theo than she realized.
She inhaled sharply, then swung her book bag directly into Pansy's face, busting her nose. Dahlia hooked a punch that sent them both falling to the ground.
Pansy retaliated by pulling her braided hair. Dahlia shrieked.
Inside the classroom, Theo and Draco shared a similar look of concern as they tried to make out the mumblings in the hall. They were frozen in fear, not daring to interrupt unless entirely necessary. Theo rolled his eyes when he heard Dahlia squeal. Draco rubbed his face in chagrin as his head fell back, patience wearing thin. He nodded for Theo to follow. They peered out the classroom and watched them fight pathetically. Theo put his arm in front of Draco, stopping him from intervening too soon.
"Shh," he hushed. "This is therapeutic for them," he whispered.
"Fucking keep him!" Dahlia cried, laying on the floor.
Pansy tried to straddle her. The rest of the class gathered in the hallway. Professor Slughorn was too slow to properly end this madness.
"Get the fuck off of me! You're delusional!" Dahlia screamed as she tried to slap Pansy across the face once more. In her fury, she had landed true.
The force of her slap knocked Pansy off of her. Pansy wiped her cheek. Dahlia's rings had drawn blood.
Dahlia started to crawl for her wand that had fallen astray only a few feet away, but Pansy pulled her back by her ankle. She howled as her skirt hiked, skin pulling against the harsh stone. She kicked her with her other foot, then secured her wand. As she grasped it, Pansy threw herself on top of her again and went straight for her throat.
"You fucking rude bitch!" Pansy shouted as she tried to choke her. "You've ruined everything!"
"I fucking hate him, you psychotic cow!" She cried out.
Dahlia screams reached a new octave as Pansy threw her weight into Dahlia's throat and she flailed.
She saw a flash of white before Pansy was being dragged off of her by Draco. She felt strong arms pulling her up from behind. Theo hauled her onto her feet with little to no effort. He released her from his arms.
"Darling," he chuckled as if this was cute. Her fury was adorable to him.
Free from his grasp, she lunged for Pansy. Theo's face dropped as he struggled to catch her. He didn't expect her to be the one to engage, so he wasn't quite quick enough to react.
Draco had Pansy held firmly back by her arms. Dahlia stormed towards her in a crimson fury. She was a step away. Pansy screamed and Draco tugged her back, shielding her pathetically. Dahlia grinned, hating and ugly. She was a sitting duck, moments from landing a blow.
Theo quickly wrapped his arms around her torso, picking her up by excessive force this time. She flailed in the air as he successfully secured her in his arms. She fought against him but his grip was ironclad. She settled for spitting blood towards Pansy's face from her own bleeding mouth before Theo carried her away.
"Alright, love. That's quite enough," he scolded her, unfazed by her uncharacteristic outburst and no stranger to the sort.
"Put me down!" She demanded.
He refused as he carried her out of the hallway and into the Transfiguration Courtyard. They received an array of looks, from confusion to whistles.
When they were away from lingering eyes, he placed her on the stone railing of an archway to sit. He planted his hands on either side of her. He hung his head and groaned in exasperation.
He glanced up at her as to beckon an explanation out of her. She turned her head away from his gaze, jaw locked. He wouldn't get one.
"Can you not go one day without sneaking off, getting into a fight, or getting into some sort of trouble?" He admonished her. "I didn't expect this from someone like you..."
It was a stab, and he didn't even know it. She ignored his rhetorical question and tore through the layers of bullshit. "Nothing happened," she firmly stated.
He knew she was referencing the time she had spent alone with Draco over the past two days. This was also the likely catalyst for Pansy's outburst.
Theo physically distanced himself from her, taking a few steps back. "I know." He leaned against the opposite wall and watched her twiddle her fingers in her lap.
His voice lowered as he asked, "why didn't you ask me instead? I would take you anywhere. Give you anything, Dahlia," he admitted with a sad scoff.
Her heart warmed and she relaxed at the use of present tense in his statement. She looked down, contemplating how to word her thoughts.
"Because I knew that. Draco doesn't care about my safety the way you do. You would have never let me go through with it. You would have fought me on it once you realized I would be casting dark magic onto myself," she muttered quietly. She was still looking at her hands. She didn't want to meet his eyes. He didn't disagree.
"Plus, Draco had already pieced it together that I was a seer. He's known for weeks. Honestly, I didn't even think I wanted to tell you until that night in the Astronomy Tower. I still wonder if that was a mistake." She ended her sentence quietly as she let her regret linger in the air.
Theo winced at her words. She hoped they had stung. He should feel regretful about abandoning her.
"I thought I could help you. I told you that the other night before you made it clear that you wanted me to distance myself from you." Her voice escalated. She was still wounded.
His face hardened but he still didn't deign to give her a response.
She continued, "I just needed to strengthen my Sight. I read in a few textbooks that I could amplify my abilities by using different tools from nature so I went off and found one."
She sighed, angry. "And now I have this stupid brand on me and it wasn't even worth it. It didn't work."
She hadn't had a vision at all. The opposite, really.
Theo lifted his eyes to the sky. "I don't want or need your help. I never asked for it." He was cold in nature as he spoke.
She scoffed. "Yes, I realized that somewhere between the god forsaken bog and the fucking bluffs," she snapped and finally met his eyes.
"Then why did you go through with it?" He pleaded, trying to understand. His face finally cracked with frustration.
"I thought it would help me protect myself. Give me answers. I don't know, it seemed to call to me in the end," she answered quietly.
He leaned his head up again and closed his eyes. "Dark magic can be quite inviting, my love. Did you ever stop to consider that?"
He waited for an answer that she couldn't give. Dahlia looked anywhere but at him.
"To say it didn't work seems premature, don't you think? None of us know what you've done," he continued, scolding her further.
A tidal wave of emotion crashed as he echoed her thoughts from earlier.
What had she done? She felt herself start to shake with anxiety. Her face became hot with the ache to cry. He didn't deserve it — what she had allowed herself to grow between her and Draco, nor her tears after he had discarded her.
There was a long pause as she gathered herself. Theo made no move as he studied her. She blamed herself. She had become so skilled at concealing her impending doom. She breathed deeply and clenched her teeth together. His eyes remained on her, wearing a harsh expression. He looked nearly disrespectful when resting.
She wondered what he was thinking about now. She had never felt such a way about someone, but he was seeing too much of her. She had stuck around long enough to disappoint him. She should have ran and saved herself from exposure, but she never had a chance. She had unknowingly floated across the horizon of a black hole.
His cross features revealed just how disenchanted he was, and it broke her down further. She fell into her thoughts, spiraling downwards.
Would he still want to fall in love with her now that he knew she hadn't been polished with the stars, but instead with the shine of black tar?
Would he still fall for her, buy her love only to return it now that he had discovered she didn't quite sparkle so brightly as she promised the world?
Would he pick someone else now that he realized beneath her pristine exterior, it was only thin paint attempting to cover her gaping wounds and thick scars?
Yes, because who would really want her? She was a farce. She didn't know how to heal from loss. She didn't even know how to find her father's love again, or how to recover her grades — if she even cared. The Fates had probably laughed as she swam in their sacred pool; a poor, little weakling who couldn't bear the weight.
"I can't handle it all," she murmured, barely audible, she sunk her nails into her own delicate skin. It felt good to do so. It was the only thing that was real.
She raised a hand to her chest. Horror-stricken and relieved when a tear fell down her face in front of him.
His own face transformed into an expression of worry. He moved immediately to comfort her, but she held her hands up to stop him. She couldn't handle his kindness if it came from a place of pity. She physically held herself as she desperately tried to pull it together. She became more composed with a few deep breaths.
"Where does this leave us?" She questioned nervously.
He put his hands in his pockets and stepped to her. He was close enough for her to smell his scent of shimmering oakmoss that she found so comforting.
"I would reckon somewhere near love? I don't know Dahlia, I tried to burn the castle down to find you. All I ask is that you try to stay away from Draco."
Something complicated knotted in her heart. She didn't push him to reveal his obvious reasoning. She craved the stability he was offering her and didn't want to discuss it further. Despite the fact that nothing real had happened between her and Draco, Theo was still jealous by nature.
He bent down and looked into her eyes. "I'm truly sorry. I regretted everything the moment I left, but then I couldn't find you and I discovered you were gone. I won't leave you again, I promise."
He touched a cut on her face where she was bleeding with his thumb. He placed it in his mouth as to suggest he was swearing a blood oath.
"I'm sorry, as well," she whispered. Her throat was dry with tears, unable to say much more.
He exhaled and finally pulled her into his embrace. She let her heart attempt to start healing itself. She squeezed him so tightly, as hard as she could. There was nothing like this — the way she fit perfectly within his arms. She had made mistakes and branded her skin with them but he still wanted to love her. His scars could be her scars and they would mend each other. Maybe if she allowed herself to be loved for them, she wouldn't need to maintain her perfect facade for the world. She had fallen for him, rough exterior and all, so maybe it was possible that he loved her frayed edges too. He was the bluff her insecurities crashed against and with each pull of the tide, he would prove that he could remain steadfast.
"What happened out there?" He murmured.
She shook her head. "I can't talk about it. It melted into my bones. It was excruciating. I couldn't see," she whispered, shaking her head.
"Maybe there was nothing to see, and you are exactly where you need to be," he answered calmly as he cupped her face.
"We don't have to talk about it." He shook his head.
She wrapped her hands around his neck and hugged him tightly. She breathed him in. She closed her eyes and believed it would all be okay for a few moments.
He pulled back from her. "I was thinking about inviting a few friends come stay at my home for some time over fall break. Would you want that?" He asked.
It was clear that he was distancing himself further from Draco if he was no longer planning to stay with him — not that she was surprised.
"I think getting out of the castle would suit us quite well, but I need to go home first to see my father," she answered as she interlaced her fingers with his. "Why don't you come?" She asked spontaneously.
He tilted his head, then slowly grinned. "If that is what you wish," he answered, leaning her chin up to him. He placed a soft kiss upon her lips. "Then I will try my best to woo your father." He smirked.
She laughed softly then pulled him back to her for a deepened kiss. She longed for this connection after a few nights spent in uncertainty.
He pulled away. "You taste like blood. Are you hurt?"
"No, I'm fine," she reassured with a small smile.
"Good, I like it," he whispered into her mouth, darkening his tone. He brushed his hand up her neck as her mouth parted for him. He inhaled sharply as she leaned into him eagerly.
"I want more," she murmured devilishly against his lips.
He held the side of her face, his thumb brushing her bottom lip. "I couldn't dream of denying you."
"Hold on," he winked.
He grabbed her hand and Dahlia felt herself being pulled through space and time. They suddenly appeared in a storage room within the outer perimeter wall of the castle. Golden light pierced the abandoned space made of stone through a small window above. She noticed peculiar items; tools and books scattered through the room in disarray upon the floor and a large desk.
"Where are we? You know how to apparate?" She questioned.
This room was the embodiment of his chaotic, clever mind.
He didn't answer her. He walked up behind her and ran his fingers through her long hair, moving it to the side. He began lightly kissing her neck and jawline. Her curiosity dimmed with each kiss. She went to turn to face him but he held her in place.
"No," he ordered.
He pulled her sweater over her head and unbuttoned her shirt slowly, taking his time. His kiss became rougher as she leaned back into his chest. He removed her shirt entirely. He momentarily paused as he saw the swirling words peek out from beneath her bra. She reached behind her to unbuckle his belt but he grabbed her wrist.
"You're always so eager to skip the best part," he murmured over her ear.
He released her wrists and bent down to his knees behind her. He slowly ran his fingers up the front of her thighs carefully as if she were fragile, constructed entirely of glass. She shook in anticipation. He looked up at her under thick lashes. He proceeded to violently pulled down her tights.
He nodded, and waited for her to step out of them.
She obeyed. He kissed up the back of her thigh as if he worshipped her. He stood once more, tall and strong. He leaned over her and put a rough hand on the large desk in front of her. Her body bent to his will. He kissed the back of her neck as he slipped his hand under the top of her skirt and beneath her underwear. He found her center, and a moan escaped her mouth as he touched her, far less gentle than last time.
"You're dripping for me," he whispered behind her ear in a condescending tone.
He groaned loudly, as if that was the best thing she could ever be.
"Kiss me," she begged as she tried to turn around.
She felt his muscles flex against her as he refused her wishes.
"No." He kept her firmly facing the desk instead of himself.
His disrespect only made her want him more. This wasn't nearly as sweet as last time, their first time. He was rougher than he had ever been before. This is what she wanted from him in all of her daydreams. She felt a thrill that his secrets were being revealed — that this might have been what he imagined doing to her in his own fantasies where there were no inhibitions. He was rough and persistent as his hand worked against her. Her underwear snapping against her skin. Her high started building rapidly.
"Please, I don't want you like this." Her voice was breathless.
"I don't fucking care," he murmured darkly.
It started to click. This was his way of reprimanding her for what she had done, whether she knew it or not that she was being punished. He refused to please her fully and grant her every request.
She pushed him off of her and faced him. His eyes were hazed with desire. He appeared annoyed at the sudden change of power. She viciously removed his tie, then his shirt wordlessly. He watched her do so, smug as if she was only lucky to have him.
"Did I make you jealous?" She asked innocently as she began kissing down his chest.
He closed his eyes, jaw ticking. The sweetness of her kiss laced with the venom of her words drove him closer to losing control. She came to her knees and looked up at him with doe eyes, pure paradise within them. She leaned her face up on his thighs where he stood.
"Get up," he commanded. She didn't listen.
She began reaching beneath her skirt as she kneeled before him. "Because that makes me so…"
She moaned as she touched herself.
"...satisfied."
She mocked his jealousy, and he fucking loved it as much as he hated it. He picked her up off the floor and threw her onto the desk. He took off her skirt and underwear swiftly.
"Touch yourself," he instructed her.
She watched him undress as she obeyed.
"I don't want to hear another word out of your pretty mouth unless it's my fucking name." His mouth was inches from her as he towered over her.
He licked from just below her belly button, to between her breast and finally up to her neck. It wasn't to tease, it was to claim. He was expressionless as he held her hip down with one hand and entered her. She yelped and inhaled sharply. He grinned wickedly down upon her. She wrapped her other leg around him as she felt herself accommodate his length. He filled her to the point where pleasure meets pain. She moaned as he began thrusting into her. This was the connection she had been eager for. She found his mouth and tried to sit up. He let her as he pulled her closer, into his arms. His lips parted for her and she deepened the kiss.
She kissed him hard until her lungs burned. She pulled back, and he fisted her hair behind her neck to look up at him. He wanted to watch her face as he owned her completely in this moment. She looked into his eyes wildly and whimpered.
"Are you sorry now?" He murmured as he traced his hand down her front. He held her firm in his other arm.
She nodded, unable to form words as she watched him move in and out of her.
"Tell me Dahlia," he demanded, working his cock deep inside her.
"Yes," she breathed.
He rewarded her and brought his thumb between them and began adding more friction. It took her no time. He held her tightly as she leaned back and came in his arms. Her hand tightened around his neck as she moved with him through her high, clenching around all of him. He felt so impossibly good within her. His jaw was held stiff as she shivered, watching every bit of her face as she came for him.
He looked like he hated her, like he might be thinking of her screaming like this for another man, so she moaned his name into his ear.
"Theo," she whispered, writhing against him and licking his neck. He dug his fingers into her skin, slamming into her.
"Baby," she cried, holding his jaw in her hand, keeping his eyes on hers. Her legs shook from how hard he was fucking her.
Her head fell back and she gasped. She tightened around his cock again and he found his release as he harshly slammed into her.
She could have spoken his name like that anywhere in the universe and he would find a way to hear it. She put her forehead against his neck and waited for his breathing to return to normal. He panted as he rubbed her back. He gripped her jaw and kissed her affectionately. She wrapped her arms around he neck, wanting all of it.
"I just want to be with you," she spoke into his mouth.
"You have me," he murmured. "You have me," he repeated.
They were both in a cold sweat. He stepped back from her and smoothed his curls. She quietly watched how the golden light highlighted his tanned skin. She thought she might have drawn him to life when her and Amelia used to sketch their grooms for their pretend weddings when they were children. She had probably imagined the person in her sketch was much kinder — a dashing, righteous prince. She smiled to herself knowing how curious destiny could be as she studied the charming yet irreverent prince of sorts before her.
"Can I see it?" He asked.
Dahlia became self conscious as she sat straighter upon what she assumed was his desk. She pulled her legs to her chest, but nodded her head. She remove her bra as he stepped closer again. He lightly brushed his fingers over the ancient language inscribed into her skin in curling motions.
"Does it hurt?" He questioned.
She shook her head.
It started just beneath her breast, went downwards and ended just before the flat of her back. In his mind, it could have been mistaken for a broken angel wing if it wasn't so abominable. Seeing physical proof of what she had done was too awful for him. She had marred her skin, and for what?
He masked his despair. He stepped back and ran his fingers through his hair. He turned to look at her, naked and still seated upon his desk beneath the golden late morning light. The sight almost brought him to his knees. He could perceive that something was anew. The peculiarity of what she had become was captivating. He couldn't help himself.
He looked into her eyes from afar, where constellations were born.
"I love you. I'd break the stars for you."
She was quiet as she took in his words. "Come," she motioned to him. He stepped close, embracing her as she sat sweetly upon his desk. He leaned down in front of her. She cupped his face and whispered into his lips, "and I'd move worlds for you."
But it wasn't enough for him.
--
Ancient books were lazily tossed around the restricted section of the library. In the hush of the night, Theodore lit a cigarette and ripped through the shelves within the prophecy alcove. He hummed to himself the same haunting lullaby both his mother, and now Dahlia, sang for him.
He was determined to absorb absolutely every ounce of information regarding oracles and their prophecies. He searched for clues as to reverse the damage upon Dahlia's skin and remove what now lived in her bones. He desperately wanted to undo what had been done. Change what had been written. He assumed Draco had been lying to get under his own skin. Draco was no sight see-er and he couldn't have possible seen a future with her.
No, Dahlia belonged to him. She had chosen him. He echoed the sentiment to soothe his own insecurity. He refused to look at the truth for what it was, that she might be capable of sinister things herself. She had consumed dark magic when she was supposed to be the one to pull him out of the darkness and transform him into something heroic. He was both flattered by her loyalty that she would do something so awful to try to help him and equally dismayed at the level of betrayal that she had knowingly committed to accomplish it. He had to remind himself that he had been the one drop her hand, and leave her standing alone in the Astronomy Tower. He had betrayed her first. At least they had both been awful as a means to protect each other.
Theo picked up a dusty leather-bound book and read its cover. "The Bible?"
He quickly flipped through the pages and rolled his eyes as he realized it seemed to be written by men, who knew nothing of seers and the universal workings. He threw it over his shoulder into the pile of discarded books.
"Rubbish," he muttered.
He began flipping through the pages of a strange book about time and how the oracles might influence it. Its pages begged the question if the oracles' decisions made time or simply impacted something that had been placed by a higher power, such as the Fates.
He began spinning his time-turner among his finger as he read the pages. Who were the Fates? He was uncomfortable with the idea of anyone controlling his destiny. He turned a few pages and saw some prophetic writings that alluded to the Fates possibly being one instead of many, and the possibility that this high power may have not even come into existence yet as time was viewed linearly but occurred all at once.
He closed the book and pocketed it into his cloak for some light reading. He ripped his wand through the air. The books put themselves back into place as if no one had been there at all. Then, with a sharp crack and a haze of lingering smoke, he was gone.
