As the last of the guests made their great escape, Narcissa Malfoy wistfully hushed Dahlia whom she had removed from her son's arms only moments ago.

Narcissa's heart wavered as she discerned the flash of panic across Dahlia's soft features as Draco turned away from them. It was as if the world was ending in her haunted eyes. The resemblance to her mother was uncanny — and her own personal heartbreak. Her face was the futile reminder of a time ago friend lost; the suffering frown all too familiar. Narcissa tightened her grip on Dahlia as they watched Draco storm down the crescent-mooned staircase, concerned she might chase after him by her tense body language.

Dahlia squeezed her eyes shut as Draco disappeared, his polished dress shoes crunching mercilessly through broken crystal and sloshing through puddles of champagne. He didn't bother to glance back in her direction.

"He will be perfectly alright, Dahlia," his mother soothed, but her eyes were already elsewhere, set on a new fear. She reached for Theo pathetically with blood-soaked hands.

Narcissa held her firm and directed a stealthy gaze at Theo. He almost reached for her. Almost.

"If you run with her, he will kill you," she warned.

It gave Theo a brief pause. It sunk like a ship doomed for the seas — the Dark Lord was summoning him. He couldn't move. He wasn't sure he knew how. Narcissa's lips tightened at the lack of haste.

"Go," Narcissa ordered to Theo coldly, nodding in the direction of the marble staircase adorned with falling garland.

Her demand, His will, had Dahlia releasing an uncontrollable sob.

No, please. I can't do this alone.

Theo stepped closer to hold her, moving as he always did to keep her comfortable, but Alexander quickly placed a hand on his shoulder to prevent him from fully embracing her.

He knew Theodore would never leave if he held her once more, and Alexander wouldn't risk his own plans from shaping for the pathetic cries of Dahlia Aldair , even if broke his brother.

"Darling, it's fine. It's just a moment," Theo whispered to Dahlia as Narcissa held her weakened frame.

He brushed his hands along her reddened cheeks.

"I will come back to you. I won't leave without you," he told her softly.

Dahlia fought to dampen her senses so she might have this one moment free from the Dark Lord's thrall. She peered back at Theo in despair, desperately memorizing his face as a voice within herself told her to brace for the worst.

She shook her head as a fresh tear fell.

"I have a really bad feeling, Theo."

Her voice was breaking, but she continued, forcing herself to plead.

"Please, please don't go," she whimpered. "Please..."

She could barely beg as her throat constricted in silent sobs. Her premonition felt earth-shattering — desolate.

He didn't pause for any consideration. "Darling, I'll find you after," he murmured.

"Please. Please don't cry..."

There was no fear in his eyes, only concern. He wasn't afraid, but Dahlia had seen the Dark Lord's rotting face. She knew he soon would be.

Alexander tugged him back, forcing him a small step away. To her, it felt like a vast distance for which her tears might form a river to separate them.

She gasped. Her eyes became wild as he moved in the wrong direction. She felt Draco's mother smooth her hair to hush her mania.

He tilted his head with a frown, as if seeing her this way rendered him in two. One piece of him always committed to pleasing her, the other sworn to do what was best for their future. He pleaded with her silently to let it be, before giving Alexander a nod that he was committed to the path ahead.

Theo took a step back. This time, by his own will. He took another, as if backing away from an unpredictable hazard — her. The fallen portraits covered their mouths, invested in the scene unfolding as they so rarely got to witness a heart breaking.

Dahlia writhed in hysteria as she held her breath. He walked back, slowly through the shattered hall with their eyes locked. It sounded as if her heart carelessly crunched beneath his feet. His expression steeled with each step that furthered the distance between them.

Her lungs burned, reminding her to breathe.

"I love you," he said low and carefully, as if he had questioned saying the words at all, in case it triggered a firestorm. He stood tall and finally turned his back to her.

To him, it wasn't goodbye. It was just a moment. To Dahlia, it was devastation as the heartsore premonition filled her bones — it ruined her fully.

She broke free of Narcissa's steady grasp and charged down the hall. She slipped on the liquor-soaked marble and crashed to the floor. She pressed on, unfazed as the broken glass ripped through her knees as she tried to crawl to the staircase and get back up; too overwrought to feel the sharp edges breaking skin.

A desperate declaration of love reverberated through her mind, but all she managed were weeping cries of repeated nos as he started down the stairs.

"No, no, no," she begged as she managed to find the railing to pull herself up. Her dress caught on dozens of shattered flutes. She winced, falling to the floor fully again.

She coughed a sob, "no, please," as she leaned back and tore the delicate fabric free.

He stopped as he heard her continued desperation — a dog who refused to obey and be crated. He peered up halfway down the waning stairs at her pathetic state — blood-drenched, fallen and calling upon him.

Theo's eyes were withdrawn. His expression callous and unbending as if he had steeled his heart. He was different, and all the same. He was gambling with her again as he plotted for something more, but Dahlia didn't want more. She was content to live a life away from this all, running and running with a whispered love meant only for them to know.

She was absolutely sure he would sneak in her bed tonight and make his actions all okay. He would convince her this moment had led them to something better and that she shouldn't be so angry, but it wasn't okay and she was a fool.

He would attempt to have it all — her heart, dark glory and his family.

Her chest caved, seeing him fully for the first time. This was why she had been warned. He was uncompromising — pushing her love beyond a limit she found comfortable. Their love had existed safely within walls, away from outside influences dark in nature.

She understood now that he couldn't resist. He wouldn't be better, even if she showed him how. He was unmanageable, yet the wild wind her heart tumbled aimlessly within.

His clever eyes flashed briefly with second thought.

The glance was a crumb of his love that Dahlia desperately took. It pushed back the tide of her crashing heartache as she watched him leave, despite her uproar.

Then she went numb, succumbing to the tidal wave. The moment was so loud, ringing in her ears, as he changed.

He furrowed his brows, the tenderness dissipating. His face took shape into her worst fears, full of frustration and disappointment with her unwillingness to comply — to do what he deemed necessary for them. He shook his head in pity. His eyes reminding her that she was the only thing he believed in beyond it all before continuing down the stairs.

"Theo!" She cried, reaching for the banister as she remained strewn about on the cold floor in agony from the chaffing of the Dark Lord's soul against hers.

He didn't want her to chase after him — and there was no point anymore.

Dahlia felt soft hands on her shoulders. She startled, and found Narcissa's empathizing features. She bent down to help her collect herself.

"It will all be well," she whispered. Dahlia wasn't sold that she meant it. She quickly glanced back to the staircase wanting to see Theo one more time, but he was gone.

With a shush in Dahlia's ear, Narcissa hurtled them to the gardens.

A nervous bead of sweat rolled down Dahlia's spine beneath her starlit gown.

There was a prowling premonition that left her deeply unsettled as she attempted to quiet her anxious thoughts. The moon was high, and the stars whirled more quickly than usual as if falling into place.

A drop of blood dripped from her torn skin. It pooled silently across the sheer fabric of her gown that was strung together by magnificent pearls and priceless crystals. It was ruined, like the evening.

"Ow," she winced.

Amelia carefully removed another piece of glass from the palms of her hands.

Dahlia shivered from the winter wind that froze her terror-stricken sweat upon her exposed skin. She continued muttering sweet prayers to the Fates beneath her breath, willing the stars to bend to her will and spare the people she loved within the looming halls of the manor. The wind howled as it carried her wishes skyward. Dahlia lifted her chin to meet them, and in the eerie silence and sad moonlight she realized the manor looked more archaic and worn than whimsically gilded.

Blaise shifted nervously as he tried to peer over the tall rose bushes and shapely hedges. It was no use; the gardens had been designed to be a deterrent in their own right as the paths circled back within each other in an endless maze.

He turned to look back at Amelia and Dahlia with a distressed frown as they sat quietly on a marble bench. Pansy, Daphne, Crabbe and Goyle stood pensively nearby. Xavier had managed to escape as one of his father's men had pulled him by the collar and quickly disappeared. He was rarely without guards outside the castle.

Blaise gripped his wand tightly as both girls' strappy heels hung from his arm. He forewarned them to leave them on in case they needed to run, but they had objected, stating that was more of a reason to remove them.

Blaise winced as the wind picked up in a supernatural manner. He looked to Dahlia who was muttering prayers of sorts. It irked him as he made the connection, and he reminded himself to never cross that beast.

"I think we should leave," Blaise concluded quietly.

Amelia only whispered spells to mend the cuts on Dahlia's hands, neither of them looking up. Blaise continued as he stepped closer to demand their attention.

"I think it's worth a shot. You can apparate us one at a time..."

He looked hopefully to Dahlia, who was white as a ghost, emotionally tormented and soaked in her own blood. She shot back a skeptical look.

It had taken nearly all of her strength to dampen her senses after they were assaulted by the Dark Lord's reeking soul. Plus, she was still riding through the anxiety of Theo's absence and the devastation that he hadn't chosen to leave with her in the first place. If it were up to her, they would be halfway to Theo's own manor right now.

She shook her head. "I'm not leaving without Theo."

Blaise returned a hardened glare to insinuate she was being unreasonable, so she fired back, "I barely know how to apparate and if we try to make a run for it, we'll probably get lost. On the off chance that we do make it out, beyond these gardens are vast fields before the forest. Someone will surely see us."

She shook her head at him. She had been here so many times in her dreams that she had a good sense of the property layout.

"Theo would prefer you to leave. Trust me," he replied with annoyance.

His statement was a fresh dagger through her molten heart. She wouldn't be cross with him though. He had always looked out for her, and she valued his opinions.

He huffed and muttered, "we're sitting ducks."

He wasn't wrong. It was exposing to be outside in the fresh air as monsters convened nearby, even if monsters they loved happened to be amongst them.

"Blaise, I'm not quite inclined to risk joining Voldemort's holiday soiree," she retorted, shooting his idea down with finality.

He winced at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. She added in a more sincere tone, "I splinched myself the last time I apparated. Remember?"

A sudden plume of thundering black smoke emitted from the chimney of the manor. They watched as it slowly dissipated into the night sky. They cringed curiously at it what it might mean before the stench of burning flesh reached them.

Dahlia pulled Amelia into a safe hug as they both covered their noses and mouths with their hands in fueling horror. Dahlia flinched, gagging as Amelia shuttered beneath her arms. Her parents — all of their parents — were taking part of whatever awfulness was occurring within the manor. Her own nerves fried at the thought of both Theo and Draco currently at risk, but Draco had done this before and Theo was no stranger to Death Eaters. They had both been born and raised by them.

A sudden fear reared in the back of her mind as a howl rippled in the distance. There were a number of Death Eaters who were their loved ones and wouldn't wish them harm, but there was a greater half that remained unknown, who still lingered dangerously.

Dahlia sighed as she gave into her fears.

"I can try small distances," she muttered with little confidence.

Blaise turned back to face her, his nervous breath freezing in the chilled air.

"To the edge of the forest?" He asked, signaling right to the canopy of trees in the far distance just above the shapely hedges.

Dahlia rubbed the palms of her mended hands together, committing herself to the idea fully. It was far, but it didn't seem unreasonable. She had done it quite easily with the encouraging words of Theo. It had felt simple, but unfamiliar.

"What will we do then?" She asked in an attempt to form a full plan.

"Apparate us to one of our homes if you are skilled enough? If not, at least we'll be better hidden and out of sight," he shrugged.

He knew it was shaky and a bit more sporadic than he would prefer.

This was absolutely not how Dahlia's original plan was playing out, but she nodded in agreement anyway. She would attempt to apparate them to safety, and she would figure out how to find Theo afterwards.

Dahlia gave a nod. They were all fully improvising now.

"Take me first. I don't want Amelia getting hurt if it goes south." Blaise was firm.

Dahlia didn't disagree. She stood and rubbed her palms against her beaded gown in apprehension.

"Alright," she replied, mustering confidence.

She pulled her wand out of her clutch purse, conveniently enchanted with a never-ending bottom. She took a steadying breath and focused.

Theo believed in her and she had to make that count for something. She wouldn't disappoint him, and she would do what she deemed necessary instead. She needed to believe in herself which always seemed far too difficult. Lately, she felt foreign in her own skin, but why? She remembered what it had felt like to swim in the starlit pool — a becoming. She was the earth and stars. She wasn't ordinary, and the people around her seemed to undoubtedly believe in her.

So what was she waiting for?

She didn't bother flicking her wand. She took Blaise's other hand rapidly and envisioned them standing in the wood below the old sycamore trees.

She willed it, and so it was.

Glimmering white smoke softly merged with the forest fog as they materialized. She felt her bare feet sink into the cold moss and the fallen wilted leaves that had long since decayed. She thought she might have transported them into a dream as the scent filled her with the recognition of Theo. Her beloved moonlight filtered through dancing branches.

She laid a hand against the bark of a stripped tree trunk changing colors in exhaustion. She looked up at the night sky, who she hoped was cheering for her small victory.

"Please tell me I didn't splinch you," Dahlia wheezed, growing tired.

"No, no. I'm all good," he whispered.

"Fucking brilliant," he murmured quietly.

Dahlia lingered on the observation of his tone. There did seem to be a need for whispers. Something didn't quite feel right. She reached for her senses, but they were so overwhelmed by the Dark Lord that it was no use.

For the first time, she felt absolutely blind. The emptiness had her erupting into a panic.

Blaise noticed Dahlia's face twist with uncertainty in the hues of starlight.

"Do you sense something amiss?" He asked with unease, pacing slowly, careful not to step on the discarded branches and wet leaves. Making a sound wasn't something he wished to risk.

"I can tell no better than you right now. The Dark Lord overwhelms my Sight," she answered, horrifically honesty.

A branch crunched. She assumed it was Blaise circling impatiently upon the forest floor, unsettled. Dahlia found the strength to finally push off the tree. She started towards Blaise as she wiped her forehead. She surely looked like a wreck at this point.

Blaise abruptly halted as he looked to her with a bewildered flare.

"Shh..." He put a finger to his lips to still her.

He reached forward and touched Dahlia's coated forehead, unbeknownst to her. Blaise held his fingers to the light of the moon and tilted his head curiously at the dark substance.

"No!" Dahlia whispered as she rushed to stop him from bringing his fingertip to his tongue, but it was too late.

His eyes darkened with trepidation.

"Dahlia," he choked quietly in alarm.

He silently prowled over to the tree she had been leaning against only moments ago. He circled it, eyes brightening wide. He brought his fist to his mouth, masking his horror.

Dahlia ran to his side, quickly discovering a mutilated man. His blood still warm as it coated his pristine dress robes. He had most likely been one of the fleeing guest, which meant this attack was recent. Dahlia covered her mouth too, turning in shock as she realized the man was barely breathing.

"Blaise, what do we do?" She hissed. "what do we do?" She repeated in horror, wiping her forehead to rid the blood from her skin.

"I don't fucking know, Dahlia!" He whispered back in a panic. He shot her an incredulous look for assuming this wasn't his first life saving experience.

"Do we put him out of his misery?" He asked in a dismayed whisper.

"No!" She shoved her elbow in his side for even thinking the idea.

Dahlia turned from the man, unable to look any longer. She wondered if covering his wounds with leaves would help as she momentarily forgot a dozen spells that would ease the man's pain and mend his gashes.

She attempted to calm herself so she might think clearly.

There is no way we can bring the others back into these woods.

Dahlia looked around and suddenly stilled in terror. A towering shadow began to emerge from the wood. She didn't take her eyes off it as she grabbed at the air, reaching for Blaise's attention.

He finally turned with his usual annoyance as the beast before them revealed glowing ice-blue eyes. It growled unnaturally, as if a man was trapped within.

"Take us back, Dahlia," Blaise demanded in calm distress. There was a certainty in his tone that they would die if she didn't comply, but her mind was blank with horror as the beast revealed itself entirely.

It was a grisly looking werewolf — only it wasn't a full moon. Dahlia reeled at the peculiarity of it before realizing he was one of the rumored werewolves who preferred to embrace his animalistic savagery.

"Greyback," Blaise called coolly.

Dahlia was dumbstruck. They had been stupid enough to go into the woods surrounding the manor when the Dark Lord lingered. The werewolves were loyal to him. They had even heard them howl in the gardens.

"No, son. But I could bring you to him if you like," the man answered with a beastly smile, revealing yellowing fangs.

This werewolf was part of his pack. He slowly stepped forward, as if playing with prey. He turned his attention to Dahlia and narrowed his feral eyes.

"What a delicious child," he rasped. He eyed her lustfully with sinful thoughts.

Dahlia thought she might vomit from sheer terror. She would rather die by her own hand than be taken by the werewolf.

Blaise took her shaking palms and held his wand up. she let out a trembling, frightful breath as he slowly approached, teasing his strike.

This was it. This was how they died. She wouldn't be brave. She would be another young woman lost and eaten by a demented pack of werewolves.

"Your blood smells utterly luscious," he groaned.

Dahlia forgot her legs were still bleeding. She sniffled as she tried to wipe her blood away. She looked back at the werewolf. He was closing in and smiling awfully.

She whimpered, freezing in place.

The werewolf lunged, and Blaise brought her to his chest for protection. They screamed girlishly as they held each other, preparing to be eaten.

Fuck. Fuck.

An overwhelming sense of defiance, boldness, filled her bones and bloomed within her chest as it shot through the bond.

Draco. He's furious.

It was a burst of courage, and with it Dahlia found the clarity to save them. She would never be able to thank him enough. She apparated quickly, picturing the gardens where Amelia once stood. They appeared abruptly somewhere in the vast gardens as they both fell onto the gravel.

"Fucking gods," Dahlia grunted as her adrenaline surged. She gulped in air as she almost kissed the ground.

"Where is she?" Blaise bellowed.

He looked around frantically. "Where is Amelia?"

Dahlia stood within the towering hedges of roses. They were more creamy in color than she remembered, and she couldn't find a bench in sight. She rested her hands on her knees in exhaustion. She had successfully apparated twice, and she was growing more and more tired as she also fought off the sense of the Dark Lord.

"I don't think this is where we were, right?" She glanced up, panic slickening.

"Blaise, I'm so sorry. I must have overshot it."

He nodded, empathizing. She had warned him she wasn't skilled, but it had cost him dearly.

"We should stick together," he replied quietly, reaching for her hand to help her stand fully.

"Draco is coming for us. For me. I felt it," she whispered with absolution.

He narrowed his eyes at her skeptically as if she was delusional.

"It's a physical bond we share. We can somewhat communic-,"

She waved her hand at him as he angled his head in gross disbelief.

"You know what, it's new and weird, and now is not the time to explain."

Blaise shook his head. "If Draco is coming, then Theo isn't far behind, or he's already ahead."

Dahlia sighed in relief. She would be home with him shortly. It was the only thought that kept her pushing forth.

A young woman's scream resounded from somewhere within the gardens. They looked at each other, fearing it was Amelia.

A new wave of adrenaline surged as they took off running. She didn't care that the gravel cut into her feet — she would find her. Her breath puffed rapid clouds into the cold night's air as she searched. She was sprinting through the garden aimlessly, surely getting more lost.

The towering hedges narrowed as thorns scratched against her skin.

She turned a corner, suddenly realizing Blaise was no longer at her side. She slid to a stop and looked about in a frenzy. They must have taken different turns. She considered doubling back, but decided to follow her instincts. They were hardly ever wrong.

She heard nothing but her own frantic breathing as she began sprinting again, which only sent her spiraling into a deeper panic. She tried to use the walls of the manor as a means of direction but they blurred, looking all the same from different angles. She whirled, and ran down a new path.

Haven't I already gone this way before?

As she challenged her mental state, she heard the sounds of spells being casted in the far distance. She heaved a dry sob. Even the thought — she would never recover.

"Amelia!" She screamed, voice chords straining.

She thought she might be crying, but she was chilled to the bone and any tears were long past frozen.

A haze of black smoke descended from the sky and boomed before her like a sickly meteor. Someone had heard her cries.

She slid to stop short, ripping the skin of her bare feet on the gravel. She wasn't quick enough to turn back as the masked figure kicked her square in the chest.

The contact sent her soaring. She slammed to the cold ground, coughing violently as she struggled for air. The figure loomed forward, chuckling at the fun of it.

Dahlia finally stood, gasping as her mind went into overdrive to protect herself.

"Stupify!" She casted, throwing her wand forward in a tight grip.

The Death Eater blocked effortlessly, wordlessly, and casted back in silence. She fired again — white gashes of light designed to maim her opponents.

He easily dodged it, strolling forward as if she was making this all too easy. She was tired, just so tired, but panicked as he raised his wand over his head.

"Protego!" She rasped, managing to block his paralyzing spell weakly.

But he continued towards her, coming for her.

"Maybe I'll keep you for myself," the dark figure laughed as if he had only casted to see how much fight she had in her. His voice was aged, spoiled like milk.

Dahlia refused to have survived on oncoming werewolf only to be murdered by some middle-aged man in a metal mask. She begged the moonlight to give her strength as the Death Eater approached to deliver a final blow.

Get mad. Get furious. Draco.

She channeled her adrenaline and fear into a boiling rage, and a voice reminded her that she was boundless — she belonged to both no one and all as she was nature itself. She let her senses overtake her fully. She embraced the worst of it as she swallowed down the Dark Lord's foul energy. She let it in, choking on the wind as it renewed her lungs and the aura of the moon energized the onyx within her bones.

The man stopped abruptly as he became leery of an impending doom, but Dahlia leaned against the hedge pathetically, succumbing to exhaustion like a wounded doe.

He lowered his wand as he carefully approached her, realizing that she wasn't only a witch, but something entirely different.

His eyes widened as he fumbled for his wand.

"Bombarda!" She casted, defiant.

She twisted her wrist, and the man flew backwards through the hedges with a great force that broke his bones. He barreled through the bushes as rose petals filled the night sky. He finally slammed into a stone fountain of jumping stone frogs.

The spell ricocheted and the fountain exploded, sending marble in every which direction. Dahlia covered her head as she squatted down to take cover.

After a moment, she peered back up at the man. He lied on the gravel, limp and unmoving, buried under stone and vines.

"Fuck," she muttered to herself.

She hadn't wanted to draw that much attention.

The garden forebode with an eerie silence. She no longer heard the cracks of wands rapidly casting spells. She heard nothing at all. She fought the urge to start running again to find Amelia as her gut warned her — it was time to take shelter. Hide.

She crawled towards a large hedge that she might take cover within.

Safely within the greenery, she soon heard a haunting laugh echo through the garden. She cupped her mouth, paralyzed by fear as she realized whose exact attention she had caught.

The thorns pricked her skin as she leaned closer to them. She closed her eyes.

The gravel crunched beneath light feet nearby. A fresh tear stained her cheek.

"Where are you, little lamb?" the deranged voice of Bellatrix Lestrange carried on the wind with warning. Go, it screamed.

Dahlia's breath caught in a renewed fear. She was close.

"Just a few little questions, my child of demons." The voice carried even closer.

The gravel by her exploded as she casted. A rock scratched her cheek. She fought the urge to cringe or make any movement as it cut her skin.

Her eyes widened as she saw dark smoke dissipate near the hedge where she lay hidden. Dahlia held her breath, terrified to breathe.

"You know he can sense you too," she sang darkly.

Cold terror licked her neck as she held in a sob.

Bellatrix Lestrange laughed softly as if she knew she was within her grasp. She saw a spindly hand reach within the hedges. Her blackened fingertips caressed the branches as if she was sensing Dahlia's hot breath in the biting chill.

She held her breath. Don't breathe. It burned. Don't fucking breathe.

Dahlia screeched as she was violently hauled by the neck out of the hedge.

Bellatrix laughed maniacally at Dahlia's terror as she threw her onto the gravel before her feet. She bent over her as Dahlia lay paralyzed, examining her like a wounded creature, ready to shatter a relic.

Dahlia struggled to reach for her wand still fighting and frantically calling for Draco through the bond. Bellatrix stepped on her wrist, then came to a squat in front of her tear-stained face.

"Aw, don't cry," she leered.

Bellatrix leaned closer and gripped her jaw.

"Your mother never did," she whispered through clenched, yellow teeth.

Dahlia thrashed violently and cried out in pure fright. She hadn't realized her end would come so soon. She closed her eyes and prayed to skip to the part where Draco would be the one to end her life instead — a sweeter mercy.

Bellatrix's cackle came to a sudden halt as she was shot in the chest — a spell of warning. Bellatrix turned, and Dahlia opened her eyes in relief.

She didn't hesitate to snatch her wand.

"Cissy?" Was the last thing Dahlia heard before she began sprinting madly through the gardens again.

Where the fuck were Draco and Theo?

Why hadn't they found her yet if every other threat had managed to do so.

"No, no!" Dahlia cried out as she glanced up to the dark sky. It was full of black shooting starts moving rapidly overhead — Death Eaters.

She called upon the last of her strength and apparated once again back into the dark wood. She felt a familiar pain tearing her skin as she plummeted aimlessly through the rippings of space.

Draco landed in the wood as silent as a specter.

The only hint of his arrival was the glimmer in the smoke as it rose to meet the moonlight. No branches ached or creaked, as if the wind begged him to hear her terrified calls.

Draco made no move, not until he could properly assess the level of danger. He tilted his head — predatory in nature — as he thought he might have heard a heavy thump upon the moss-covered forest floor in the near distance.

"Where is she?" A killer voice hissed. He thankfully recognized it.

Draco stepped out from the shadow of a colossal sycamore into the moonlight. The shedding tree bark crunched beneath his weight.

Theo was striding towards him through the dense roots and midnight fog as he removed his tailored jacket that had been viciously ripped by the Dark Lord during the ceremony. He tossed it harshly into the dirt and moss, deeming it worthless now.

Theo halted in front of the remnants of a fallen, decaying tree trunk that separated them. He rested his foot upon it and leaned his arm against his knee in agitation.

Draco wondered what he would risk for a cigarette right now.

"I know you can find her," Theo dared. Draco noted the rage that simmered was not for him, but for the inability to find Dahlia.

Draco had a million questions for Theo, and a thousand snide remarks, but instead he cut the shit.

"She should be near," he replied calmly, undaunted.

"I searched the gardens." Theo shook his head and twitched with his wand. He spun it furiously.

There was an unspoken, mutual understanding. They were lost friends, enemies and now allies. They loved the same girl, and they both now had tasks from the Dark Lord.

"Lower your voice," Draco ordered with a warning glare. He still wasn't above settling the score if push came to shove.

Theo narrowed his eyes at him as he rolled up his sleeves. The starlight danced upon his features through the canopy of branches. His mischievous eyes gleamed darker as the Voldemort's mark took sanctuary within him.

Draco knew the last person who needed a dark influence was Theo. Its black effect combined with his clever nature and lack of fear was of a different magnitude. He wondered if the Dark Lord had known it, as well.

"She's somewhere in the forest," Draco added.

He looked around, calculating any paths she might have taken. Draco was sure she was near. He could sense it through the bond. He just couldn't pinpoint her exact whereabouts through the density of the wood. Their tether burrowed more deeply within the tissue of his heart every day. It no longer took an effort to reach within himself for it, but he hadn't quite figured out how to perfect its use.

"Fuck," Theo exclaimed, kicking the fallen trunk and circling in frustration.

"Let's go," Draco ordered, turning sharply. He headed back to where he had apparated, searching for signs that might point him in the direction of where she could have gone.

Theo noisily followed, uncaring of the beasts that might lurk nearby.

"Did you know?" Draco asked as they slowly walked deeper into the forest. He couldn't help the cold fury that seeped into his question. He could kill Devereaux Aldair for trading Dahlia to the Dark Lord and attempting to steal a piece of his fortune in a double deal. The idea seemed more pleasing as the minutes passed.

"About her father?" Theo furrowed his brows in Draco's direction.

"Yes," he nodded. "Dahlia and I discovered her father had been torturing her mother earlier in the year." He winced as he spoke quietly.

Theo stopped and quickly looked over his shoulder as if he might have heard something. He was silent for a moment, before relaxing his shoulders and continuing on. He hesitantly brought his focus back to Draco.

"I wasn't aware of the Dark Lord's involvement, not that I should have been surprised," he scoffed.

Draco roared with tension. How could Dahlia not have mentioned this to him? Did she not trust him? Draco felt his own sense of betrayal. He had thought they had grown closer. His envious nature lurched from his gut at the thought of the closeness Theo shared with her.

Draco had a moment's urge to hurt him by asking if he knew she still shared dreams with him and they had been intimate. He quieted his thoughts as he realized it would only distract them from finding her as soon as possible.

"Your brother is back?" Draco asked curiously to change the subject.

He had never expected to see Alexander Nott again. He had been rumored to be spending his time traveling through Eastern Europe.

"Obviously," Theo answered sharply. He steadied himself and walked back his annoyance. "With my father away and all…"

His voice trailed.

Draco didn't buy it, but he didn't push further either. Their fathers had been gone for nearly seven months. Alexander most likely had other motives for returning.

Theo ran his hands through his trimmed curls as he looked around anxiously, sensing the premonitions that filled the winter night.

Draco couldn't help but noticed the blotchy splashes around Theo's newly imbedded Dark Mark. He remembered how awfully it had burned as the venom flowed through his own veins. He wondered if the venom never left, and that's what channeled its power and encouraged the dark urges within them.

"So what's your plan? What will you do?" Draco asked lightly, despite the significance of what had just taken place.

Theo grinned at Draco's casual manner only because they had so often believed they would be unstoppable together, but it wasn't enough to hide his dismay.

"I'm sure your welcome home party will be much more pleasant than mine," he joked.

Draco didn't answer, nor did he find it funny.

They stilled, sharing a knowing look as if growing up hadn't panned out the way they thought it might. They felt so much older — their choices carried real weight. This life was about survival, not happiness. It was about living with the sacrifices made to properly protect the ones you held close.

It felt like they were on the precipice of a black hole; the darkness waiting to devour them entirely. Neither wanted to take the first step. Neither had puzzled where or how to place the last of their light for safekeeping. It was a different vulnerability altogether to love a girl who could sense if a soul was in tatters or drifting away.

Theo placed his hands on his hips. He looked up to the moon as if asking it for an answer to what he should do. He so rarely wore confusion. It was unsettling.

"I don't suppose we could break them out from Hogwarts, right?" Theo questioned with little confidence.

Draco shook his head. It wasn't feasible. It would require an assembly of manpower and carefully coordinated events for even a shot at it.

Theo exhaled sharply as if tormented.

Draco knew Theo was impulsive and daring, but he wasn't dense. He knew what was within his means and how far he could push his capabilities so he might have it all and lose nothing. It was a grand game to him, and he was uncomfortable now that he wasn't one move ahead.

"If I go now…I bet we could do it in…."

Theo was thinking aloud aimlessly.

"I could have more time with Alex," he mumbled quietly, spinning his rings. "She'll never..."

Theo couldn't finish the thought. He looked to Draco as if he might have an answer.

"No, she won't," Draco answered firmly.

Draco knew Dahlia would neither forgive him nor accept it, but she would come to understand eventually.

A morose silence permeated the late hour as the situation fully settled. The painful acceptance of how the dominoes would fall lingered in the air. Their breaths froze in the sad wind as an owl called its own lover home from above.

Theo met Draco's eyes as he pressed his tongue in his cheek coming to the despondent realization. He looked up at the swirling sky of constellations.

"She's a right bitch," he chuckled grimly, forever mad.

Draco knew he was talking about the Fate who had also painstakingly forged his and Dahlia's souls into one. Draco disagreed — he quite loved her for doing so, even if Dahlia's feelings were unrequited. He couldn't imagine the person he would be without her. Well he could, but he didn't wish to do so.

Theo slowly casted his eyes down to Draco with a pained expressio — an unspoken question.

"I will," Draco answered. There was nothing he wouldn't do to keep her safe. Nothing he couldn't give her.

Theo hardened as if he had tucked his heart away, unable to bare it on his sleeve anymore.

Draco sighed, "her father wants her back at school immediately."

"I don't much care for his opinion," Theo replied quickly with a sneer. He rolled his eyes as to dare Draco to disagree.

"Nor do I, but it's a good call. Look at us, hunting her down," he replied in exasperation.

"She's safest with Dumbledore, unfortunately," he finished, pushing his silver hair away from his eyes as something caught his attention.

"While he's still alive…" Theo muttered.

Draco silently stalked over to an ancient tree within a heavily forested section of the wood. The light of the stars reflected off a dark wetness. He brushed his fingers against it and brought it to his lips. His eyes lit with a promise of savagery as he tasted the blood.

He nodded to Theo, who then did the exact opposite of what Draco had intended. He stomped forth, rustling the leaves and breaking several branches.

"Dahlia!" Theo called loudly, circling the tree.

He turned back to face Draco, features falling. He stilled before bringing a gilded finger to his lips to demand silence.

Draco rolled his eyes and mouthed, "the fuck is wrong with you." Agitated with his loudness. He quietly prowled over to inspect what Theo had found.

His veins surged with a fire as he peered down at the dead body at the foot of the tree. Had he been a guest? Had he been after Dahlia?

He tilted his head peculiarly as he realized the grisly wounds were the result of sharp fangs.

It dawned.

Draco pulled out his wand instinctively. Theo followed suit without question. Draco narrowed his eyes, sensing they were not alone. They pressed their backs against each other to ensure they could see all angles. Whoever — whatever — had found them would get more than they bargained for.

"Searching for someone?" A voice called from above. Others chuckled in the distance. It fell onto them menacingly like a blinding blanket in the night.

Draco casted curses aimlessly into the tree canopy above as Theo formed a protective shield around them, preparing for a duel.

"They aren't wizards…" Draco whispered.

Several howls and laughs echoed from the trees. No, they were werewolves. A horrible sinking feeling weighed his gut. He hoped they hadn't found Dahlia, but he would kill them regardless.

Theo's chest rumbled with an arrogant chuckle.

"Then this should be fun," he replied.

Draco couldn't help his smirk. "Shake 'em out?" He called over his shoulder with amusement. He didn't wait for Theo's agreement. They had always worked well as a team.

Draco casted a sphere of blazing blue fire within the palms of his hands. It hummed with the vibrations of a dragon's chest. Theo lowered the protective shield and breathed out a white, glowing flame of light. He spun his wand as he typically did out of boredom, but this time it sent an explosion of white light cascading through the forest with a sound-breaking boom that shook the trees.

With visibility restored, Draco sent the cold fireball soaring skyward where shadowed figures sat perched. It hissed in fury as it soared. The figures jumped from the tree as it shattered like glass, setting it aflame in a blinding silvery fire — hellfire. His favorite.

The branches froze, succumbing to the ice flames. A loud thud befell the forest floor as the trees above rustled and the ancient sycamores crashed to the ground in pieces.

"Stupefy!" Draco casted at the shadowy figure who had fallen.

The man dashed quickly in a preternatural manner.

Draco attempted to stupefy the man once more, but was growing irritable as the man dodged him repeatedly. He had wanted to question him on Dahlia's whereabouts, but was teetering on the urge to fuck it all and cast something a bit more painful — or permanent.

"She's long gone, but her blood sure was divine," the werewolf taunted.

It wouldn't be tolerated. Draco stalked forward, apparating behind the stranger to catch him off guard.

When he came forth from the shadows, Theo was roaring as he set the whole surrounding forest aflame in an unhinged fury. He would burn them, or smoke out the entire pack, so he might kill every last dog. He forgot Dahlia also might be in the wood in his blind rage.

Draco embraced the benefits of the dark arts, and apparated once more, closing in on the werewolf. He savored how the blackness of his arrival left others fumbling in a haze, utterly mystified as they searched for a way out blindly.

He pulled on the tether and sensed Dahlia near, alive, before he made his final decision. He let the Dark Mark drive him forward and gave in to its horrid urge. He knew the werewolf had been bluffing, but he ended him anyway for what he might have done to her if given the chance. Draco didn't wait to see his body hit the ground before moving into the shadows.

Draco landed in the center of the clearing, sending a soothing, frozen breath upon the crimson flames ignited in the forest. He finally turned his attention to Theo, who was taunting the other two werewolves mercilessly as he apparated rapidly for game.

"Expulso!" He shouted, sending one werewolf flying into the other.

He smiled in a happy rage, then proceeded to cast a purple slicing light that manifested into tiny cuts all over the werewolf's massive frame. Draco stepped forward to end Theo's unneeded cruelty. They didn't have time to play.

Theo's devilish grin turned with horror as a hair-raising scream reverberated through the dense forest and chilled his bones.

The werewolves covered their ears in agony as if Dahlia's divine scream had been a curse upon their unnatural nature — an abomination to the sacred balance. They fell to the ground in mind-bending pain.

Theo vanished with a resounding furious crack in time. He would find his way to her through the slips of space.

Draco moved forward, hell-bent.

Dahlia landed face first with a thud onto the cold grass somewhere — or anywhere. She didn't much care. Her own heartbeat croaked in her ears.

She lifted her head with great effort to discover she was in a clearing within the forest once more. She felt the coldness of blood trickling from her barely moving body.

She would get up again. She just needed a chance to catch her breath and calm herself before doing so. She was as good as dead in this state, but she had to push on.

She rolled over onto her back painfully, squealing out. Her mouth parted as she became a shell of her fighting self. She was in a daze as her grip loosened around her wand.

The exhaustion was bone deep. The stars were dimming as if they had no more strength to give her either. She closed her eyes, if only for a moment.

The world spun, and she dizzied. She opened her eyes with great effort so she might ground her balance. She was just so cold; her sweat froze against her skin.

She counted the constellations, finding peace in the pain.

"I'll be in the stars whispering to you."

A tear fell, finding her mother in the endless sea.

Her face broke into a silent sob as she saw black shooting stars.

No...

They were relentless, hunting her mercilessly. She bottled a cry, then rolled onto her stomach and crawled out of the clearing to the safety of the tree line. She mewed as the glass further imbedded into her thighs — remnants from when she had crawled through broken crystal to get to Theo.

She was reaching the end of her limits as she heaved herself to safety. She hid behind a tree as she propped herself against its wide trunk, pulling her knees to her chest.

She rested her head against the broken skin of her legs for what felt like ages. She shook violently in the bitter cold as her bones threatened to freeze.

He'll find me. Draco will find me. He won't let anything happen to me.

She pulled harshly on the string around his heart, hoping he would appear before her soon and praying Theo was with him.

She closed her eyes, dreaming of what she had wished for the evening. She had wanted Theo to bring her home and tangle her up in bedsheets. He would pour hot water down her back in his large bathtub as he kissed her shoulder gently. Then she would break it to him, that she was forcing him to take a flying contraption that muggles used so he might swim in the ocean her mother loved so dearly. Her summer sun would hold her above the salty waves as he shone more brightly.

In her dreamland, it was always summer there. To admit the truth of the winter cold befalling her mother's home would cement her mother's death. The last of her — gone.

She perked up as she heard rustling. She lifted her head from her knees and glanced around the silent forest. An anxious pit reformed in her stomach.

Something was coming for her.

She knew it but she was too exhausted to run. She covered her mouth as to keep her breathing from being heard. She gripped her wand to her chest as she tried to steady her shivering hand.

The rustling turned into heavy footsteps. A single tear rolled down her cheek as the last of her terror peaked. It wa quiet. Too quiet.

Her screech echoed through the barren forest as a force pulled Dahlia by her moon-blessed hair, dragging her out from behind the ancient trunk. She casted wildly into the air until the man kicked her already fractured wrist and sent her wand flying.

"I bet we could sell you for a pretty penny," he sang.

She realized he wasn't a Death Eater. He wore no mask.

"Please, please don't bring me to the Dark Lord," she begged, sobbing in fear.

She flailed furiously, but he was too strong. He must have been no older than thirty, but his eyeliner made it difficult to tell. He wore old dress robes as if he had planned to attend the party.

"Oh, we don't deal with him. Just steal from his greedy faction," the man laughed as he continued to drag her across the dirt of the forest by her arm. Glass further dug into her delicate skin. She cried out in pain.

He called to a shadow in the distance. "Orly! Come take this dress off the prettiest little thing I've ever found!"

He grabbed her other arm as she kicked furiously. She was so exhausted though that there was little point. She wasn't capable of doing much damage.

"I bet these here are right, real pearls." He grinned like the devil.

"You don't want to do this," she cried, bargaining for her life.

"I'm Devereaux Aldair's daughter. He will kill you. The Malfoys will hunt you like dogs, and kill you," she pleaded quickly.

"They'll never find you, honey..." The man above her whispered.

He ignored her cries as he chuckled. The distant shadow revealed itself to be a smaller man that took large strides towards her. He wore a suit that appeared haggard and worn.

Dahlia realized they were thieves. They had planned to rob the party that had shortly succumbed to chaos.

Dahlia kicked and sobbed as the man above her held her wrists steady over her head so the other thief might remove her dress to take it apart and pawn it.

She braced herself for the worst as she was about to be exposed. She fought hard and let out a blood-curdling shriek as she panicked. The man in front of her covered his ears. Dahlia felt a drip of blood on her forehead as it dribbled from the other man's nose from above.

"Woah-ah, lungs on this one," he teased.

"No, no, no!" Dahlia cried, throat raw.

Her eyes widened, body relaxing as a crack broke the night. A sob of relief escaped her when she saw the charcoal smoke bleed around them. The man in front of her gave a curious look as he noted the sudden change in her demeanor.

He was here. He had found her.

Theo emerged from his smokey, molten haze. He strode forth from his soot, grasping the chin the man who was kneeled before Dahlia to remove her dress. His eyes were feral — she had never seen him like this.

Theo stabbed the tip of his wand into the man's cheek.

His ripped sleeve revealed a horrifying revelation to the two men — the young woman they had found belonged to him, one who was sworn to the Dark Lord's innermost circle. He was a monster in his own right and her making.

"Want to beg for his life, old man?" Theo smiled savagely at the man who held her wrists.

He paused to give him a false sense that he would wait for an answer, but Dahlia knew better. Theo had no intentions of doing so. As the man inhaled to speak, he viciously snapped the thief's neck.

Dahlia screamed in shock as Theo nudged the body to fall to the side. He paid no attention to her cry of horror — quite unbothered by it. The man holding her wrists released her, and she scurried behind Theo's strides.

He noted her safety as he twirled his wand along his knuckles before finally pointing it at him.

"You should run," he chuckled with a demented grin. He winked before tuning back to kneel before Dahlia, his demeanor changing entirely as he found what was most precious to him.

The man had turned and found himself running into a pitch black plume of smoke. It glimmered as Dahlia's own apparition gleamed. She covered her mouth, paralyzed by horror as she leaned into Theo who held her tightly.

She winced, assuming the Death Eaters had finally come for her — probably overhearing the commotion in the woods. She muffled a cry as she saw a flash of green light beyond the haze. They had killed him cold.

Dahlia shook as Theo inspected her over, unbothered by the approaching danger.

"Theo?" She whimpered. Why wasn't he terrified?

He assessed her wounds and grimaced. She was utterly wrecked.

"Shh," Theo cooed, kissing the top of her hair.

Dahlia heard the sound of the man's body crumple to the ground. A deathly hand cut through the smoke as it landed on the dewy grass.

Her eyes trailed upwards and through the dissipating black plume, a familiar silver shimmer refracted in the moonlight. She should have known as the stars had sighed in relief. She should have known by the way his apparition glimmered like hers.

Draco emerged, strolling coldly from the darkness. His own Dark Mark glowing in the starlight upon his porcelain skin.

"So uncivilized," Draco casually scoffed, eying the snapped neck of Theo's victim. Draco wasn't surprised though since Theo always preferred a punch.

Dahlia sat in shock. She stared blankly at Draco approaching her as Theo cradled her in his arms. Their voices sounded far away, her worries lost in a river of her mind's protective making.

"Dahlia, come back to me, my love. Don't be frightened," Theo whispered against her temple.

She slowly turned her head, wondering if this was a dream as Draco looked more angelic — glowing. She reached out for him. He tilted his head as if it were a peculiar thing for her to do.

He strode over and squatted down, meeting her at eye level. Theo rubbed her bare arms as to bring warmth back into her skin. She only stared blankly into Draco's lethal, loving eyes. She was thoughtless except for the realization of how pretty he truly was. Could someone like him really love her? Could someone so beautiful truly want her?

A slow grin broke across his face as if she had said her thoughts aloud. He didn't respond, but he did pour a plume of warm love into her heart through their bond to try to relax her.

"You'll be alright, darling," he murmured.

Dahlia finally came to as she noticed Theo's arm. She gripped it delicately. The skin was angry, red with irritation, as it now bared the despicable Dark Mark. She looked to him with anguish.

He only pulled her closer as his face became unreadable, hiding all ounce of emotion from her.

"We need to go," Draco ordered.

"Can we have a moment?" Theo asked him quietly.

Draco stood, clenching his jaw in frustration.

"Whatever," he finally answered. "Your funeral..."

He turned his back and went to take care of the bodies.

Dahlia was completely numb as Theo looked into her wide eyes.

"You just killed someone," she whispered.

"But he was going to hurt you," he replied without wavering.

"Do you even care?" Her voice shallowed.

He held her tighter, eye fronted.

"I-I don't know. It," he looked down at his Dark Mark, "it feels awful within me."

He was processing this in real time along with her. He hadn't stopped once since he had been given it. He had moved to find Dahlia immediately after being released from the Dark Lord's presence.

Dahlia grabbed his forearm and gripped it to her chest as she laced her fingers with his. She kissed his rings. She looked to him as tears fell down her face.

She wasn't scared of him. She knew he loved the darkness, even though deep down she saw the goodness within it. There would always be a small part of him that would want to be the hero of the story, even if he couldn't resist darker shades of magic. Dahlia had to accept that this small desire had to be enough for her, because the boy she loved was capable of atrocities.

He was a murderer. He was a good person who had repeatedly made bad choices. Maybe his life had been too hard, or even cursed, but she knew he had just made a lasting decision that would pull him over the jagged cliff-side — irreversibly plummeting into the darkness for good.

She cried as she grieved for what they could have had — maybe something more pure. She cried with the regret for not loving him sooner. She had wasted years wandering halls without a second glance in his direction. She cried for the man he might have been had his mother been alive, and not murdered. The man he might be, had he not been abandoned by everyone he loved from an early age. She knew she would rather forfeit her life than abandon him too.

"Nevertheless, right?" He whispered, eyes alighting like a prince of chaos. Her prince of hearts.

"Take me home," she sighed somberly.

He closed his eyes for a long moment, dread hardening the lines of his wince.

She touched his cheek. "Please?"

"Dahlia, I love you," he whispered. "I will break the stars for you, I swear it."

He looked at her with so much love, but then it cracked. He finished in a whisper, "I will bring you home one day, but now you need to go back to school. You aren't safe anywhere else." His voice wavered.

She couldn't understand.

She nodded. "Alright," she sighed. She kissed his hand. They would go back to school together.

There was a horrible silence as Theo realized he would have to viscerally break her heart. She wasn't thinking clearly. She couldn't. She had been through too much in such a short amount of time.

He moved, so he was on his knees before her. He brought his hands to her face. Her bone ring glowed subtly as if calling home.

"Darling," he murmured. "It'll be such a brief time apart."

His fool-golden eyes pleaded with her to make this simple.

Her world tilted. What was happening?

She exhaled as if she had been gutted, chest caving in.

He was going to leave her. How could he leave her? If only briefly. They had just found each other again. He couldn't abandon her — because she had promised that she would never abandon him.

She inhaled sharply and wiped her tears from her cheeks. She was suddenly, and acutely lucid.

"Apart? What are you saying?" She asked meekly, panic churning beneath the surface.

He gripped her cheeks. He might as well have broken her between his hands.

"We could go to...I have…I'm okay with this love. It's enough for me. It's not a small love. Is it not..," she mumbled in rolling chaos as her skin prickled. She might not ever make sense of this.

He brought her head to his chest and murmured into her hair, "I'm not going back to Hogwarts with you, Dahlia."

Coward, she thought. Look me in the fucking eyes.

He rubbed her back gently. He felt her muscles constrict as if he had kicked her.

She pulled away, eyes full of broken stars.

"I have to go north, for the Dark Lord." He shook his head. "But don't worry, love. I'll be able to see your stars shine more brightly," he whispered, brushing away her tears.

She shook her head back as if denying it.

He wasn't hearing her. He hadn't heard her all night. He couldn't keep gambling with her heart. He couldn't leave her. She sobbed in frustration. Why wouldn't he listen to her? She knew all. She knew what was best. They shouldn't be apart.

"Take me with you," she pleaded.

He looked away from her, inhaling as if annoyed at how difficult she was making this.

"Theo, take me with you. Theo, please. I don't fucking care about finishing school." Her voice was shaking as it rose.

"Baby, it's not about that. It's where you will be the safest. It's where the wards are strongest," he replied, sensible for once.

There was a painful silence. She hated nothing more than a seriousness on his face.

"Theo, you are not leaving me." She laughed as if the joke had gone too far.

She felt hysteria rising as she realized he wouldn't give in to her.

"Dahlia, We will have the most beautiful life soon." He looked away from her. "Or, in some time," he added softly.

He couldn't make her anymore promises. He was already breaking so many of them.

The heartbreak hit her suddenly at the finality of his words. This was more than devastation. She had thought she had hit rock bottom when he had simply walked away from her as she lay bleeding and begging for him to stay.

No, this was desolation.

This was an active choice to not be with her. To not wake up and want to hear her say she loved him every day. To drop her hand.

She sobbed as she felt the sudden loss of his love. He was being cruel. The blood in her heart dried — an empty, barren land that was a perfectly good heart only moments ago before it had just misstepped. It was as if he had died, even though he stood before her — so she screamed at the ghost of the boy she thought she knew.

"Don't fucking leave me!" She bawled. Her vocal chords ached, but he would hear her this time. She would make him hear her.

He stood. Dahlia struggled to stand after everything. He moved to help her but she shoved him away.

His touch was too much to bear. She couldn't stand his skin against hers. She took deep, desperate breaths.

"We all have to make sacrifices, Dahlia..." His tone was harsh, scolding.

"This isn't one of them," she spat.

"Do I mean nothing to you?" Her voice broke as the question came out in a sob.

"Dahlia, please. This is not what I want either."

His jaw tightened, and his chest rose with harsh breaths.

"I will write to you," he muttered, knowing it wasn't enough to salvage what had been lost.

Dahlia narrowed her eyes, bewildered. Her throat ached with a fresh sob. He was so sensibly calm as he shattered her. Who even was he?

It hurt so much that she needed him to feel it too.

"Don't! If you want to leave so bad, then go!" She used the last of her strength to shove him back again but she was too weak to have any impact. He remained unyielding as he grimaced.

"Just go!" She screamed. She threw everything she had into another shove.

"Go, Theo!" She cried.

"I don't want you here! Look what you've done!"

"Look what you've done time time!" She threw her fists against his chest as hot tears streamed down her face.

"You're always leaving!" She rasped.

Theo grabbed her wrist, triggered by her statement.

"Don't let these be our last words for a long time," he whispered, all too calm.

She stared into his unreadable face, world ending. It was as if he had shut it all out. He had always burned wildly, but he didn't this time. The chaos in his eyes grew tired — a peaceful acceptance breaking through the clouded storm she loved so much.

This wasn't him. What had happened?

He had said he loved her invariably. He had promised to never drop her hand. He had promised to kiss her for every cruel word, but no touch could heal this.

There was nothing like this — the way she fit perfectly within his arms. Their edges aligned. His scars were now her scars. She carried that burden. They had promised to mend each other, but this wound would forever be incapable of healing no matter how time shifted.

Who would be able to love her now?

She had wrecked her life because he had told her that he would love her always — and nothing else had mattered. He had ruined her, just like he said he would. She was shell of herself, just like Draco had warned. Where would the tides of her insecurities pull now with no bluff to crash against. She would float, anchorless in despair and a sea of wishes for him to come home.

Home — no longer. He was burning it to the ground. She would curl on the charred, cracked foundation because she still loved him, whether it made her golden or blue.

Dahlia weeped. awakening her stars with a fright. All because she wished so greatly that she had never met him.

He went to embrace her, but she stepped back. Her heart had been crossed.

"You promised." Her voice was steady with hate.

"Promises shift, love. Please forgive me," he whispered. "I will fix this."

Draco turned as he noticed their words escalating. They didn't have time for this. Draco took her arm, partly because he couldn't stand to overhear anything more.

"We need to leave," he gently told Dahlia. He turned to Theo, "and you must return to the Dark Lord."

Theo nodded painfully to him, avoiding her gaze altogether.

Draco tugged on her arm. She sensed this was the true end as Theo turned.

"No! No, wait!" She ripped herself free and ran to Theo.

"I love you. I love you. Please don't go...please don't leave me."

"I love you, my Dahlia."

He hugged her tightly and whispered, "when you look up, I hope they remind you."

He gazed at the night sky and made them swear it.

He kissed her forehead. "I'll come back for you. I'll always come back for you," he whispered.

"No, no," she cried as he pulled away.

"I can change it," she yelled after him.

"I can make you proud," she muttered to herself.

She just wanted to be enough for him to stay.

She cried out in frustration as she reached within herself and tried to grasp a power she didn't yet understand. It ran through her fingers like water as she tried to wield it no avail. She tasted copper as her mind pushed its boundaries but she continued on, splitting herself painfully as she blindly tried to uncross stars.

Her mind was fracturing. The stars begged her not to do it. They refused, steadfast in placement.

If only she was stronger. If she had only been braver sooner.

Draco's eyes widened in fear as the stars above seemed to flicker, drenching them into further darkness. What she was doing, he wasn't quite sure. The wind let out a sickly howl as it moved between barren branches under a newly waning moon. The grass withered beneath her feet.

He looked to Dahlia in horror as her nose bled and she yelped quietly in pain.

He tried to shove out the devastation from blooming in his own heart as she overpoured with it. It was clouding his own rationality. The wind squalled along with her sobs as Theo vanished into nothingness, leaving Draco behind to pick up his shattered mess.

Dahlia wavered on unsteady feet and he quickly moved to catch her. He wrapped an arm around her from behind as she leaned into him for comfort.

"We can't stay, Dahlia," He murmured softly.

The heartbreak was so great that it weighed his own bones. It made him sick. He couldn't imagine what she felt if this was the only the remnants seeping through their bond.

"Draco, please. He'll come back," she rasped in a desperate denial. She slid down his chest to sit patiently upon the withered ground.

She waited for a love that wouldn't return.

It took all willpower to keep his composure. He realized there was a worse thing than seeing the love of his lifetimes with another — it was seeing her shattered on the ground as she fumbled to align the broken edges of her heart back together so she might live on.

"He will, Dahlia."

He squatted down next to her and tucked her hair behind her ear as she stared aimlessly at where Theo had stood.

He murmured slowly, "he will, in some time. I need you to come with me though. I promise I'll…"

He wanted to promise a million things to make her feel better. He promised to clean her up and mend her broken bones; he knew her heart might not ever mend. He swore to heal every scar and if he couldn't heal it, he would worship it.

He was a godless monster finding light; a lawless man finding limitations — yielding. He swore to soothe her ever anxious mind, and to rebuild her into a fortress so she may never feel this pain again. He didn't say it — it cut too deep, but he vowed to never leave her like this.

Deep hatred took hold. Theo should have never put her in this situation. He should have never stolen her heart. But he did, because he was selfish.

Draco looked up to the sky as his own dark senses murmured something was wrong. He saw a black moving cloud of smoke. It was rapidly approaching in the distance high above the cursed branches.

He pulled her close and brought her to safety, leaving the forest behind.