The clouds could hardly keep up as Draco broke through their haze in pursuit of the golden snitch. He climbed higher and higher, punching through the cotton peaks to finally meet the morning sun. He whipped the back of his broom forward as he came to a quick halt. If he soared much higher, the air would be far too thin to breathe.

Good.

Draco liked it up here where impenetrable heights met the brink of certain death. Free-falling or phantom suffocation; both ends from these heights were sure to be euphoric until the last gasp.

He removed his leather gloves as the rays beat against the black of his shirt, and held his hands out as he whipped to face the sunlight. It was safe here, where he could out-race his own thoughts. He could almost touch the heavens, yet they remained just out of reach.

He blew out a large breath and pushed his falling strands of silver away from his reddened cheeks. He smiled without reservation as he tilted his head back, and found the starry blackness ebbing on the sky blues.

Maybe the heavens were closer to his reaching grasp than he had ever realized. They had possibly been watching him in secret from their high palace making sure he took all those wrong turns that led to her, in this lifetime or past. He had failed to see the promise of peaceful black just beyond the deepest shade of blue for so long, but he could see it now.

Maybe the heavens had even chosen to follow him from their pristine skies to the shallows of the damp earth, always. He had just never bothered to notice the faint glimmer in his shadow, instead too focused on the shades of black that encroached on both his step and heart. They called him home from above. He could feel it in the heat against his face, and in the thrum of the stretched tethers around his heart.

Maybe, the heavens had been her, us, all along.

And that was why he had always loved chasing the skies so much.

He plummeted towards the earth once more — this time with the golden snitch in hand. He kept his sight set on her flash of star-blinding hair, yet he held his target on the ugly bloke at her side as he tumbled towards the clearing in the snow, just outside the stretching doors of the castle.

He pulled forward, the wind breaking with a crack as he landed in a stride.

Blaise let out a girlish scream, frightened by his sudden arrival. His broom threatened to hit him from behind with the continued momentum. Draco quickly summoned its hilt into his hand.

"Hey mate," Draco mumbled, knocking Blaise's shoulder. "Should I tell Flitwick about that astounding vocal range of yours? Might need you for the quire." He smirked.

"You're going to accidentally land on him or a first-year one day with your reckless flying," Blaise countered. His tone was similar to a tired parent on their last fuck to give.

"I would quite enjoy that," Draco answered boredly. His eyes were locked on Dahlia's snow-pink flush and wide grin as she stood at Blaise's side, dressed in all black. It was clear they were returning from their morning run. Her smile was lighter and windswept.

He had always imagined what it might feel like to live in Theo's shoes — be the one she smiled so brilliantly for, and now he knew. He didn't care what Blaise and her might have been discussing or if he had so rudely interrupted them. He only cared for the balling of her fist as she held back from reaching for him. He only recognized the action as he had done it so many times, when she had chosen him instead.

Draco gave in, feeling lighter himself; nearly untouchable. Besides, the few students around could easily be bribed if needed. He tossed his broom to Blaise, who stepped aside and let it fall to the ground.

"Not your bitch, Malfoy," Blaise grunted, rolling his eyes.

Draco didn't care and ignored him. He pushed up his sleeves and hauled Dahlia up and into his chest. Her world-ending eyes flashed with delighted surprise. Her smile widened as if he had done something spectacularly right. She wrapped her legs around his waist as if she had no intention of being put down anytime soon.

Good. Because he had no plans of ever letting her go.

"Hi baby." Draco's voice was low and smooth as it fell into her waves of hair.

"Hi," she breathed.

He felt her inhale deeply, quickly breathing all of him in as if he was as critical to her bones as water.

If he were nicer, he would almost feel bad for stealing her away — robbing Theo of this feeling for the rest of time after he had tasted it once. If he was more fair, he might hate himself for agreeing with Theo that he shouldn't return to school, but she had never truly been his to lose. She belonged to Draco as much as he and the night belonged to her. Their stars weren't crossed. They were written in perfection as the path to something greater — and far better than what her and Theo could've ever been.

"I need you to know something," he whispered trailing his lips across her cheek until they finally landed on her mouth.

"I'm still here," Blaise mumbled, turning his back to them and waving off any lingering eyes.

"I love you more than anything I've ever known," he murmured against her cheek.

How many times had he wished to soar down from the clouds and be the one to casually kiss her and say good morning?

"In your feelings today, Malfoy?" She straightened her spine so she might rise a bit taller than him, seated within his arms.

"Malfoy?" He scoffed with a grin. They were far gone from using last names.

She nodded emphatically, so he dropped her lower.

"Yes," she yelped, now back at eye level. "Malf-"

He stole the last of her words as he also stole a kiss. She pushed her mouth against his after a brief moment of shock, startled that he had chosen to kiss her with others around.

Blaise sighed in growing annoyance. "I hate you both," he grumbled, shrugging off the surprised stares as if this were nothing new.

"I love you too," she finally answered, pressing her forehead against his. He felt the love in her synced heart turn with appreciation — a new certainty in choice — through their everlasting bond.

"You are the best thing I've ever been able to call mine."

She cupped his cheek. "I'm starting to think you are the best choice I've ever truly made."

The wind blew their hair up and around them as if in sudden defiance.

"Piss off." He slapped the wind.

Her eyes drifted downwards, carefully noting his black athletic gear as he had been doing some extra quidditch training alone.

"You look nice," she drawled.

His expression flattened. "What do you need?"

Compliments weren't in their nature.

"I've already refused," Blaise called over his shoulder.

He lowered her to the ground before crossing his arms skeptically.

She tugged his hand free from his forearm, then stepped back with a sly grin. She raised a brow. "Walk with me?"

He raised his own as she held his hand out. He didn't budge despite her pull forward.

"Please?" She pleaded, sweetening her eyes.

Blaise elbowed him. "Don't. It's a trap."

"Fine." As if he could deny her of anything she wanted.

He folded his hand into hers as he fell into step. Blaise carried on at her other side as they walked into the castle. He sent his broom back to his dormitory with a nod to the left, towards the dungeons.

"So much for discretion," Blaise teased as they headed towards the Great Hall.

Dahlia dropped his hand. Her face contorted as if Blaise had shot her hopes from the sky and firmly planted her feet back on the ground.

Draco threw an arm over her shoulder. "We do the best we can."

"Jealous?" Dahlia snorted. She eyed Blaise, twirling his signet ring around his finger as his hand hung over her shoulder.

"Oh, all the time," Blaise retorted sarcastically. "Stealing my favorite boyfriend, Aldair. Second one this-"

"There's enough of me to share," Draco sighed before Blaise could finish that sentence. He threw his other arm around Blaise and squeezed them close. Dahlia and Blaise scowled in unison.

"Not getting along this morning?" Draco so innocently asked.

"I stole your girlfriend too," Dahlia mumbled across his chest to Blaise, ignoring the question yet providing a clear answer.

Blaise fumed. "Summers only! We discussed this, Dahlia!"

He nudged Draco. "You should know the two of them would leave us for dead under the least precarious circumstance."

Dahlia shrugged in agreement and smiled warmly up to him.

They turned into the Great Hall with Draco's arms still draped over the both of them. A few students within his house glared at Dahlia as they entered. He guided her to the Slytherin table against her subtle protest to sit with the Ravenclaws.

"It's fine," he told her. He would prove a point for her sake. To speak poorly of her would carry the consequences of speaking poorly about him.

A group of fifth years snickered in her direction as Blaise sat down next to Amelia and began preparing Dahlia a plate of breakfast. Amelia waved over Eloise and Xavier from the Ravenclaw table. Juliet and Lucas were already at their side. Pansy and Daphne shared unsavory glances as they sat between Crabbe and Goyle.

Whatever had lingered between him and Pansy was dead and buried, yet tension remained between her and Dahlia, and Draco sure as hell wouldn't be the one to facilitate a truce between them.

"Eggs?" Blaise asked, looking up to Dahlia who stood awkwardly. He couldn't blame her for not wanting to sit with those who whispered salaciously about her just out of earshot.

"Sit," Draco ordered, his eyes narrowing on the group of sneering Slytherins.

"Something you would like to share with the table?" He called out. His voice carried down the hall in a smooth, sinister promise.

The table hushed, along with half the Great Hall. The whispering group elbowed each other, urging someone to speak up and answer.

He targeted Cassius Warrington, a fellow quidditch teammate who was younger than him — an easy target. The quidditch team had been saying the worst about her behind his back. They were still terribly loyal to Theo, even though he no longer strolled these halls or captained the skies.

"Cass?" He sang maliciously, stepping forward.

The brunette boy shook his head.

He sensed Dahlia sit down behind him, either because she was starving for breakfast or mortified. Most likely the latter.

"Nothing to say?" Draco angled his chin, almost disappointed he wouldn't get a good fight. "Are you sure?"

"No." Cassius shook his head again, respectfully. He knew he might pay for anything less in practice, as Draco was up for captain in Theo's absence.

Draco turned his attention to Colin Kaldor, the fellow prefect who was always at the center of any despicable gossip. Dahlia had flirted with him to make Theo jealous once. He was the prefect who had found her the night she had splinched herself.

"And you?" Draco nodded in his direction, casually placing his hands in his pockets as he stepped forward once more. "I know you think Dahlia is quite uh, a pretty thing ." Draco laughed. "You said it yourself, didn't you?"

Colin stilled, chilled by the fact that Draco had been listening or was told what he had said to Dahlia that night. He could see the horror in his face as Draco stalked forward.

That look was far more satisfying than any punch Draco could throw. Colin didn't nod, nor did he shake his head in agreement. He only braced for what might follow.

"Would you like to tell her again?" Draco grinned to Colin.

He shook his head as he stared down at the table, deeply uncomfortable.

"Shame," Draco shrugged.

He heard Dahlia whispering behind him, most likely wishing he would end this display here and return to her, but Draco was enjoying this far too much.

"Come on, mate," Blaise called, no doubt at Dahlia's request.

Draco chose to ignore him.

"Cass? Would you like to tell Dahlia she looks beautiful too?"

He pointed between the two of them. "That's what you were discussing right?"

"Really, Malfoy?" Colin whined. "You have to be joking. You made your point."

Draco laughed, rich in venom. "Do I look like I'm fucking joking?" He boomed.

The younger students jumped at the raise of voice.

He stepped to the side, giving Cass a clear line of sight to Dahlia.

Xavier smirked to Draco like an eager predator, enjoying this just as much as he was. He snapped his fingers, garnering Dahlia's attention to Cassius as Blaise leaned back. Eloise slapped his arm in protest of this cruelty.

Cass's cheeks reddened. "You look beautiful today, Dahlia," he muttered.

"Thank you," she mumbled in an icy tone.

She turned and took an unperturbed bite of her croissant.

Draco scoffed in disbelief. "Did you just make a move on her in front of me?"

"Oh, he definitely did, Malfoy," Xavier added with a wide grin.

Eloise slapped him again. Draco brought out the worst in him.

"No! I uh-" Cass stammered, bewildered that it had been an elaborate trick.

Draco dropped the joke, trading his mocking sneer for his usual bored and callous expression. "Keep her name out of your fucking mouth. All of you."

Draco stormed to take a seat next to Dahlia in the new silence.

He was met with ferocious eyes. "That wasn't necessary," she hissed into his ear.

"See, that is where we disagree," he countered, stealing a bite of breakfast from her fork. "I just want to make things easier for you."

Dahlia said nothing, but a grin threatened her stony expression.

"Now that was discrete," Blaise muttered. Amelia chuckled at his side.

"Now what did you need?" Draco sighed.

Eloise pointed her fork at between him, Blaise, and Xavier. "We need one of you to seduce information out of a Hufflepuff."

"Man or woman?" Xavier muttered, a full turkey leg hanging from his mouth.

Amelia's eyes flared in Blaise's direction.

"Does it matter?" Dahlia snorted. Draco swirled his goblet with a teasing smirk, proud that she had stolen his very words.

Lucas narrowed his pine green eyes at Xavier and rolled his tongue across his teeth. "I see how you look at the giant squid through the windows of the dungeons sometimes."

Juliet's eyes widened as he threw an arm around her shoulder, then whispered into her ear. She had been spending far more time with him this semester, which luckily meant Draco got to spend all his time undressing Dahlia in her own bed.

"Ow! I already said no!" Blaise quickly yelped as Amelia stabbed him with a fork. He removed the knife from Amelia's other hand. "I told Dahlia that was a thick boundary that I wouldn't cross!"

"I didn't say you had to seduce her! Only ask!" Dahlia clarified while rolling her eyes.

"So dramatic," she whispered to Draco.

" Her? Not interested," Xavier answered flatly. He glanced nonchalantly into Eloise's narrowed eyes. "Out of respect, of course." Xavier shrugged.

Amelia stabbed Blaise again, this time with the dull prongs of a spork.

"To speak with her would be frowned upon. I know that, darling," Blaise grunted, removing the knives from his girlfriend's hands as quickly as she summoned them.

"Is this the same Hufflepuff Theo led on last semester?" Juliet inquired.

Draco stilled entirely, knife and fork in hand. His mind quickly raced as his pulse jumped.

To think...

Dahlia's head quickly snapped to Juliet as if she had revealed a secret.

"What do you need from her?" Juliet asked with a sour expression.

Xavier dropped his turkey leg and it crashed onto his plate.

Blaise swiftly turned to Dahlia. "You never mentioned anything about Theo with another girl." There was an accusatory hurt in Blaise's tone as if he had been under the impression that him and Dahlia shared absolutely everything.

Juliet and Amelia shared plotting glares as if they had both known and had discussed how they might murder Theo regularly.

"It was right before I left for holiday, and it wasn't an issue," Dahlia answered in a bored tone. She added a shrug for extra measure, pushing desperately to change the topic.

Draco didn't like the pinkness that threatened her cheeks and the way she shifted in her seat, as if she were embarrassed of the topic. He brought his hand to her thigh gently, despite his growing desire to earn blood beneath his calm demeanor.

"Did he hurt you?" He whispered into her ear.

Juliet raised her brow to suggest he should do something about it beneath her falling hair as she leaned over to meticulously heal the wounds on Blaise's hands so they would leave no scars. Amelia only simpered at the damage.

"That's none of your business," Dahlia murmured to him as she reached for her goblet, physically creating the line he knew he shouldn't cross.

Draco chuckled softly. Despite her cold retort, she continued to spin his signet ring around his finger with her other hand as he pressed into her thigh beneath the table.

Everything regarding her was his business. Their bond now strengthened with every beat of her heart and he was sure that if it ever ceased, his heart would refuse to beat any longer too.

Draco clenched his teeth. "Which one?"

Dahlia shook her head. "Forget it."

Eloise, Amelia and Juliet exchanged looks.

"That one." Eloise finally answered, pointing to a tall, honey-haired blonde.

His stomach plummeted with an envious resentment that wasn't his own. It frayed at the edges of their golden tether. He almost flinched as he sensed the all too familiar doubt. He had often felt it himself at the sight of Theo, particularly when he had his tongue down Dahlia's throat in a crowd. To think Theo would keep her away from him, then make her feel such foulness when he had everything Draco had wanted so desperately...

Draco stood abruptly.

"No, no, no!" Everyone quickly protested, but it was too late. He was already taking large strides towards the Hufflepuff table.

"You." He pointed to the blonde, motioning for her to come to him.

He leaned against the end of Hufflepuff table as he waited impatiently for her to deliberate with her friends on whether it was a good idea for her to engage with him. It wasn't, but she didn't need to know that yet.

He crossed his arms and glared in her direction from across the room. He raised a brow as if he had all day to wait around and would. She finally gave in with a grimace to her small group of friends, then approached him wearily.

She was quite a bit taller than Dahlia, and her hair was naturally straight, despite the resembling shade of blonde before Dahlia had started cavorting with the stars. Both attributes were her pain points, and surely the root of her comparisons with the girl. Draco had seen Dahlia stand on her toes in front of the mirror far too many times as she got dressed. Heard her sigh in defeat as she spotted the whitened strands in her hairbrush all too often. Theo couldn't have picked worse.

"What do you want? I've already been burned." She stood tall, only a few inches below him. She crossed her arms to match his own stance, but her sneer was unmatched to his own.

She was conventionally attractive, but he had spent far too many hours staring at Dahlia to pay her or anyone any mind. He often wondered if Dahlia would age a day. There was a trace of something inhuman in her own beauty as if she might never grow old. Partly why he called her his nightmare and his little monster. In the banks of a swamp, the dirt of a forest, exhausted, or deeply hungover — her skin always resembled that of oiled paint. There was a pure, blinding blackness beneath it.

He thought about asking for her name, but didn't care enough. Draco didn't want to be here anymore than she did.

"What did Theodore Nott want from you?"

Her eyes raked over him. "Why does it matter?"

Rather unfriendly for a Hufflepuff.

"Don't waste my time," Draco sighed.

She shook her head in an uncooperative manner. "That's our business."

A moment passed in defiant silence.

Draco flexed his fist in agitation. He had shit to do today and this was beginning to put him behind schedule.

"You think I won't get it out of you?" He passed an obvious glance to Katie Bell, daring her to piece it together — that he was the one who had cursed her, and that he might be willing to do it again.

Her cheeks blanched of all rosiness as she made the alleged realization.

Normally, this was the moment he would plaster on a snide smirk, but he remained impassive, refusing to give Dahlia any sort of impression that he was enjoying this.

Her lips pressed into a thin line and her shoulders fell. Draco knew he had won out over her stubbornness.

"He knew I was good at Herbology. Theo wanted a rare extract, and he needed me to preserve it."

He lowered his gaze curiously. "You made him a tincture?"

"Yes." She nodded.

His stomach flipped. "Of what exactly? What extract?"

She sighed. "I'm sure you know how he fixates and-"

"You spent time with him often then?"

She had so carelessly revealed more than she intended.

"No! I mean," she stumbled over her words. She took a steadying breath as she organized her thoughts. "I knew he was with Dahlia Aldair , who you seem to be very close to, as well."

There was a disloyal accusation in the gleam of her eye and curve of her grin.

"Well aren't you astute," Draco replied blandly, tossing the snitch he had caught earlier in the morning. His own anxiety began to bloom.

"He was clear with me, but I still wanted it be something it wasn't." She shrugged as if that was all she was willing to share on that matter.

"He was obsessed with this sap from the Bloodwoods and their surroundings myths. He was convinced the sap could be purified enough to become a proper essence with mystical properties."

Draco lowered his voice. "And what were the myths?"

"He read about them. Apparently the folktales claimed a goddess died there, in the bloodied wood — or something. He said it must have been fate that he met me, and that I was the only one who could create such a powerful essence."

Draco inhaled sharply, pushing down on the small fury that threatened to rise. He didn't want Dahlia to know by sensing his displeasure.

He swallowed a hundred horrible remarks, and remained focused on his task. "This might come off strange, but did he talk of fate as if it were personified? Like a person?" He asked gently.

"No." She shook her head with a peculiar look. "He meant it like it would fulfill his own destiny if I could do this for him." She shrugged and stepped back. "I assumed because he lived in the center of that very forest."

The world bended for a moment.

"Wait, the Wolfwood?" He couldn't mask his surprise.

She shrugged once more, turning away. "It was the Bloodwood far before."

It was late in the evening when the Order convened.

They huddled around the same worn table surrounded by the same peeling walls. Of course, Theo's bitterness only arose as he was never invited, nor offered a seat around that broken table. Instead, he was so rudely condemned to eavesdrop — to fight with the same ugly man within the same hideous portrait in the old halls of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.

Tonight though, Theo didn't discreetly listen to their delicate mumblings. The house seemed rather empty as Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys had returned to Hogwarts. It was a prime opportunity to have a look around. An opportunity Theo couldn't resist.

The portrait growled as he sauntered past it within the narrow hall.

"You foul Nott boy! Don't you gander through these sacred halls and steal from me!"

"I'll do as I please and you can shut your filthy mouth, geezer," Theo hissed. He knew better than to waste his energy fighting with the dead, but this particular portrait got well under his skin.

"You're particularly rotten for a Nott," he grunted.

Theo turned on his heel to face the portrait — a nothing but bones ancestor of the Blacks. "I hate you, you know that?" He mumbled vehemently to the portrait before storming off in silent strides.

He turned the corner at the end of the hall, flipping an indecent gesture to the portrait as he spun into the study.

His eyes brightened, noting the floor to ceiling bookcases. Rows of ancient books sat upon the black shelves, covered in dust and aging debris. He could hardly imagine what books the Blacks might have in their personal library. He reeled at the knowledge he might find.

He crept further into the small room. The thin, oriental rug did little to soften his step as he drifted past the shelves for any title that might catch his eye. His head tilted curiously as he paused on a peculiar spine. He reached for the black-covered book with gilded ink that read 'Diseases of The Soul'. With a silent touch, he readied himself to trade it with his own textbook Alex had forced him to bring.

"Confronting the Faceless?"

Theo nearly jumped out of his skin as he turned to face his old professor. He quickly armed himself with a charming smile, yet he couldn't quite get it right to hide his melancholy and distract from his dark circles.

He could never get his scheming smile right anymore. He had been dealt too much free time to think and reflect; a treacherous passtime for a mind like his. He wasn't sure if he was either nose diving into fallout or on the cusp of rebirth. Regardless, he was a bit off kilter as of late.

"Professor Lupin, er-"

"Just Remus, Theodore," he drawled, stepping closer with a warmed smile. "I thought I heard someone creaking about in here. I knew it might be you."

He placed his hands behind his back as he looked to the peculiar titles upon the shelves. Theo only swallowed.

"You were one of the more interesting students I taught... so eager for knowledge, yet despised the classroom. Had so many books in hand — all except the assigned reading."

"That is perceptive, Remus ," Theo replied briskly. The notice of his patterns within the short time he had spent at Hogwarts felt terribly exposing.

Remus reached for Theo's book — the one he had meant to trade for a more interesting read.

"Assigned reading for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Snape so kindly sent me assignments this morning so I don't fall behind in my classes." The sarcasm in his tone couldn't be missed.

"I'll be returning to Hogwarts soon," Theo added with a bit more excitement than he wished to share.

"So I've just heard. Surprised to find you here and not lingering about in a terribly bored fashion with a sour face, per usual."

"I grew tired of pressing my ear to the wall for the evening," Theo quipped with cheekiness.

Remus let out a hearty laugh, half-surprised with his honest admittance.

"Did I catch you stealing a book?" He asked slyly.

Theo stepped back in offense. "I would argue I was trading the book for a better one."

His old professor sighed. "You can't steal, Theodore."

"Then may I borrow this book, Remus? " He held up the curious title he had spotted on souls.

"I get the sense you may not ever return it," Lupin answered.

Theo held a finger to the air, the bone ring dim and dull within the walls of the Blacks. "Technically it's Harry's now, as he owns this musty place. How about I give you my word that I'll return it to Harry once I've finished?"

Remus revealed a lopsided grin, pausing as if he had been pleasantly bested.

"I knew your father," he revealed, unexpectedly.

Theo's gut twisted as he placed the book back on the shelf. Would he always be reminded that he was nothing more than a shadow — a devourer of all that is light and good on this earth?

"How unfortunate," Theo snapped, turning to face him fully. "I assure you, my word counts for more than his."

"I'm sure," Lupin quickly countered.

He pushed past Theo, reaching for the book on souls. Theo thought Lupin might take it for himself for safeguarding. Instead, he gently placed the book in Theo's hands. "Since I also knew your mother."

Theo looked down, gripping the book tightly. His mother would be his own salvation, even if she had only ever wanted to be his father's.

He peered up to his old professor's wolfish eyes with the sincerity he didn't spare for most. "Then you were very lucky."

"I was," he acknowledged. He tapped the title of the book. "The light in one's soul is hard to extinguish. I would hate to see you keep trying."

"I'm sorry." It was all he knew how to say lately.

"What are you sorry for, Theodore?" He huffed in amusement.

"I don't know. It just seems someone like me should be sorry."

"It's not a crime to be curious."

"I don't want to be like him." His words were barely audible. If Lupin wasn't a werewolf, he doubt he could have heard them at all.

"Then don't. It's that simple," he answered lightly, as if knowing the burden he carried was heavy enough.

Lupin reached for another book and placed it on top of his growing pile. It was titled 'Dak Magic and The Mind'. "Return this one to Harry too."

Theo hurtled into the upstairs study of his manor through the emerald fireplace and heated floo flames to match.

His brother followed, barrelling in behind him from Grimmauld Place. Theo tossed the books Lupin had given him onto the leather sofa. He could hardly contain his questions as Alex walked quickly out of the room. Theo followed, chasing him down the dark hall.

"Did you tell them?" He asked with an edge of panic. "What will they have us do about Azkaban? They can't possibly let us free our father — and the others."

Alex sighed in annoyance, as if he had spent all those years absent yet still didn't have the time to spare for a simple question.

"They will. To reveal us as spies is too great a risk. They'll handle the aftermath."

"That's ridiculous. So they have no plan at all?" Theo scoffed, coming to halt behind his brother, who continued on down the hall of the manor.

"Patience, Theo."

"Fucking patience is how they got this deep into shit," he called after him.

Every step further was a searing rejection that burned his heart. Another night his brother had chosen to be anywhere but at his side. His days were limited, yet he still deemed silence better than his company.

"Am I that awful to you? That you can't spend one moment with me?"

His rage was sudden and unexpected. It left him shaking.

His brother carried on, unbothered.

"Just fucking look at me!" It was a furious bellow that echoed through the manor, full of all the loss and pain he had endured. He glared at his brother, who he would now lose twice in this lifetime. He was the only person he could ever relate to as they had shared these same halls, been beaten by the same man and soothed to sleep by the same mother.

He could truly see him, if only he cared enough to look.

Theo almost wished he had never found him and asked him to return. The idea he had a brother out there who he could pretend had left him for a spectacular reason and thought of him often off in the distance was so much better than the reality in front of him. The truth was miserable — his brother didn't have to look to know that he was breaking down. It wasn't that he didn't see, it was that he didn't care.

Alex stopped as his roar dissipated into the gentle night. He turned as he looked up to the sky through the towering windows that lined their fantastical manor, fit for a prince and a promising queen.

He gave Theo nothing. His jaw only tightened beneath the moonlight as if he took his outburst as his own failure. "I don't feel like babysitting you tonight."

He kicked a half-empty bottle of vodka towards Theo. The same one Theo had left here yesterday morning after swearing off the poison.

Theo picked up the bottle and threw it just past his brother's head. His aim was still impeccable, no doubt he had earned his captained title of the quidditch team as he had earned everything with blood and sweat.

He cracked off in smoken rage. If his brother didn't want him — like him — that was more than fine. He was used to being alone, and he thrived when he had no one to impress but himself. It was better this way.

He materialized within the blood-bricked townhouse that had been his mother's reprieve from his abhorrent father. It would be his sanctuary too. His house motto greeted him through his blackening haze. Carved into the ornate mantel of the fireplace beneath the sentient portrait of the Nott family tree above it.

Neither by chance nor destiny.

He had spent his whole life wishing he carried a different last name, but maybe he would be the only man who would truly embody what it meant to be a Nott. Theo took no chances, but he would take his own destiny. Maybe neither his father or brother had earned this name, but he would.

He called his owl as he took the stairs up to his makeshift room two at a time. He gathered a piece of parchment and summoned a quill. He would leave this all behind soon, and return to his real family with all his problems fixed by his own hand.

XG,

February 13th. See you soon.

Fuck your mum too,

TN

Dahlia snatched the discarded watch off her nightstand. It's tarnished silver caught the moonlight only to reveal that it was far older than herself, or even her grandmother. Draco liked old things. He preferred them.

Timeless items cannot be bought, they are passed down.

She could practically hear his voice in her ear; feel his touch beneath the sheets as he carefully caressed her face with the whisper to match.

"But what is now old was once new. Was it not?" She had countered.

"Don't be a pain." He had grinned.

Dahlia pressed her feet into her cold, silkened sheets and pillows, remembering how Draco always squeezed her hips like he was angry that he couldn't possibly be any closer to her. He liked when she was a pain, nearly as much as he liked leaving his personal possessions behind in her dormitory.

She read the face of Draco's watch. It was just passed midnight. Draco still hadn't arrived, and Theo still hadn't written.

Dahlia sighed and dropped the watch to her sheets. She knocked her feet against the headboard as she rested flat on her back. Her head drifting off the side of her mattress. She stared at the textbooks she had taken from the library on botany.

She knew the answers were in the books, yet she was unwilling to find them. Each grand reveal had been a sickening blow, one after the other.

Pushed to the farthest stretches of boredom, she reached for her journal. Maybe she was feeling incredibly lenient with herself, allowing her heart to miss the absence of him as she was alone in the night, or maybe she was feeling incredibly resentful after glaring at the Hufflepuff Theo had used all morning.

She wanted to ask him why he hadn't told her what he was planning, but she was afraid of the answer she might receive. She was more afraid that she already knew it — that he hadn't trusted in her.

He had already anticipated that she wouldn't be willing to break her bond to Draco, even when she had promised to try. Instead, he had chosen to plot without her, even though they had sworn to cheat the world for their love together as one. He had called her his wildcard. She had thought he only did so because he had told her he couldn't have ever predicted she would ever love him back. Now she wondered what answer he might give. Did he know from the beginning just how uncertain and wild her heart was?

As the quill neared paper, the handle of her door turned. Dahlia closed the journal and chucked it to floor. It landed in a discarded pile of both hers and Draco's clothes. It was almost like Draco planned to entirely move in eventually.

Her smile grew as the familiar, tall build stepped into her dormitory.

"They're gone?" Draco asked, lowering the hood of his black sweatshirt.

Dahlia shushed him and shook her head. "Just Eloise tonight, but Juliet could sleep through a dragon crash landing into this tower."

Draco grinned as he quietly crossed the room and sat on her bed, happy to just be able to sleep with her if nothing else. He lifted up her shirt and kissed her stomach.

"New sleeping arrangement?" He murmured, noticing her feet were placed where her head should be resting.

Dahlia sat up and reached for the bottom of his sweatshirt to help pull it over his head.

"Sorry, I'm late," he whispered, kicking off his shoes. "My shift went over. Fucking fourth years. They're just discovering how easily they can sneak out and roam the castle, yet none of them are bright enough to cast a disillusionment charm."

Dahlia slid beneath her sheets. "The woes of a prefect. I almost feel bad for you if you hadn't chosen the job."

"That was when my father was still around to impress."

He stood from the bed, and Dahlia muffled out his voice. Every crease and indent of his toned torso was on display as he fidgeted with the drawstring of his pants. Would she ever breathe easy at the sight of him shirtless beneath the silver light? He glowed as if he were sculpted from the richest stone and worshipped by the moon.

"And get a fucking load of this?" He grinned casually, pushing his starlit hair back without notice of just how wonderstruck he left her. "The second-year I pay to stay up late and let me into this tower has raised his prices. You're lucky I'm abundantly wealthy," he kissed her forehead, "and you're worth it."

He slid into the bed, reaching for her beneath the sheets. It was an action that was slowly turning into a routine. She placed her head on his chest as he wrapped and arm behind her neck.

"Light reading?" He asked as he picked up the navy book with a worn cover.

"I think it holds the answer to what exactly he's planning. It was on shelf 612, exactly as he had told Xavier."

They never spoke his name — always ' he' or 'him' .

"The Hufflepuff girl said she made him an essence from bloodwood sap. There's a myth he found about a goddess who was killed in the Bloodwoods, which coincidentally is the very same as the forest that surrounds his manor."

"You think it's a coincidence?" Dahlia tilted her head to find his silver-blue eyes.

"No," he snorted. "And I'll bet your hand in marriage that the myth is within those pages."

"And what will you do if it's not?" Dahlia brushed her hand against his chest.

"Have you, anyway," he murmured.

She was suddenly eager for his touch. She reached up to press her lips to his desperately. He inhaled as if shocked for a moment, before squeezing her tightly by the waist and burying his hand into her hair. She deepened the kiss as to suggest that she wanted all parts of him. The good and the bad. The light and the dark.

He finally pulled her mouth from his with a gentle grip on her jaw. He kissed the tip of her nose and her forehead. Dahlia felt his growing hardness between them.

"I don't want to think of what's inside that book tonight."

"Tomorrow's problem?" He whispered.

She nodded before turning to her other side. He adjusted her back against his chest, and relaxed entirely as he threw his arm over her waist to keep her close.

"Are you excited for your first quidditch match this weekend?" She asked, uncaring that his eyes were closed.

"Mm," he grunted. "I love you."

It was his goodnight.

"I love you from my stars to yours," she answered.

He smiled against her hair. "I have my own stars now?"

"I believe so. They-"

"Baby, go to sleep." He pressed a kiss to her head.

She sighed, then shoved her legs between his to make herself more comfortable. The nights were always the hardest, and she was grateful to have Draco here more often than not.

As her eyelids grew heavy, the journal beneath her hanging hand glowed — Theo.

Dahlia made no move to reach for it. She remained within the safety of Draco's embrace, where there was nothing but certainty — a bond in place instead of unkept promises.

She let his scent of the sweetened, blackest night envelope her and bring her peace. It was a reminder that he had been perfectly crafted as her partner in the turnings of all time. She pressed her lips to his wrist, unable to comprehend how much things had changed or how much she loved him, then she gave into the dreaming hour.

In the waking tides of her dreamscape, she saw the golden goddess herself, licking her hands clean of the blood she had spilled deep in the wood. It was a dancing image, a far time ago, spotted between the dancing ripples. Her eyeless sockets found Dahlia, resting in the expanse. She reached for her through the wake as if she was a mother bending down to lift her child.

— — — — — — — — — —

[Friday, January 17th, 12:26 AM]

I quit drinking. I quit everything. I thought you might be proud.

[Friday, January 17th, 9:05 AM]

I am proud. I always was.

[Friday, January 17th, 11:23 PM]

I'm in London, alone. I miss you a lot tonight.

[Friday, January 17th, 11:53 PM]

I hate that I miss you too.

— — — — — — — — — —

Dahlia closed the journal and buried it into the bottom of her book bag. She sighed, dangling her feet over the ledge of the Astronomy Tower between telescopes. She removed the emerald ribbon gifted from Narcissa that she had tied into her hair. She quickly threw her golden-white strands into a messy bun on top of her head.

The clock neared midnight, when the stars reached their brightest yet she was exhausted. It was Friday evening, and the week had dragged on terribly. She was kicking herself for offering to help Hermione in a show of good faith to Harry. She could be swimming in her or Draco sheets now. She hadn't told him about these plans. He would think her ridiculous.

He had so fortunately asked if he could sleep alone for the first time this week since he had a match tomorrow morning and he wanted to be well-rested which required the full space of a bed. She had agreed, and it had saved her the awkward conversation. He would always be able to find her though if he reached for their bond. However, It was nothing unusual for her to be pacing the Astronomy Tower late into the evening.

The door creaked open behind Dahlia. She turned with a wide smile as Hermione quietly entered just as the Clock Tower began its twelve chimes. She expected nothing less from Hermione Granger to be punctual.

"Sneak around often?" Dahlia called.

She motioned for Hermione to come sit.

"I'm familiar with the shadows," Hermione answered quietly.

She was friendly enough. Dahlia noted her small smile as she sat down next to her on the ledge.

"You know I don't need help with Astronomy, right?" She shook her head as she stared out into the surrounding snow-touched hills.

Dahlia sighed. "That's why I didn't even bring our textbook."

"Does Draco Malfoy know you're here?"

"He does not." A moment of silence lingered. She turned to Hermione. "I know he's been awful to you, and it's not place to apologize on his behalf and I doubt you even care enough for his apologies."

Hermione nodded. "I really don't. I'm curious though. Does he not care that your blood isn't entirely pure?"

Dahlia tilted her head, taken back by the question. She had never thought of it that way, but it was true. It was the ancient magic in her veins that often labeled her under mythical creatures in texts, even though she had been born adjacent of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Either soiled or Divine, it never crossed Draco's mind when he was licking her skin or cradling her to sleep.

"No," she answered simply.

She reached up to the sharpest point of the iron railing above. She pressed the flesh of her fingertip against it, enough to break skin. She brought her hand to her lap, then smeared the drop of blood against her bare forearm.

"Fascinating, right?" Dahlia whispered.

Hermione furrowed her brows, watching how her darkened blood nearly glowed in the starlight.

"It's the divine magic that taints my own pure blood. I can even feel it inside me. It's this black mass that feel likes its stretching like fibers across all of my bones."

Dahlia summoned a small drop of her power. It strung out of her fingertip where she bled. It illuminated like a star with a candle wick. Hermione winced at its brightness.

"Is it painful?" She asked curiously, almost hesitant as if she was worried she had overstepped.

"It's a dull buzz. It drove me mad at first. I was restless and it was so terribly loud, but it's gotten easier. I used to think if you peeled back my skin, you might find new constellations from the way it felt."

Dahlia sighed. She blew the small sphere of starlight home to the night sky. "My visions can be painful. I see and feel them as if I'm experiencing the future or past. In my first vision, I was held captive by the Dark Lord-"

"Wait, doesn't that mean he'll kill you? I read about seers coming into their Sight and-"

"No, that's not how the vision ended," Dahlia answered tightly.

She couldn't bear to give her the truth. She couldn't possibly understand what might transpire from now to then. He would never take her life.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

Dahlia nodded, kicking her feet above the blackness below.

"It's fine. Is there anything you wish to know?"

Hermione was quiet for a moment. There was nothing to be heard but the nature breathing in the distance and the subtle hoots of owls from their nocturnal tower.

"I guess there are lots of things I should ask that might help others, but honestly? I just want to know if my parents will be okay." There was guilt in her soft features.

"Don't feel bad. That's all that really matters, isn't it?"

Dahlia scooted back into the tower. She crossed her legs as she turned to face Hermione, who did the same as she followed her lead.

"I'll be honest, I've never done this type of reading. I was hoping by helping you, I could get some practice."

Dahlia held her hands out, inviting Hermione to do the same.

"Just don't be alarmed if I...look different, or something," Dahlia muttered, shaking her head.

Hermione nodded as she poorly attempted to cover her curious excitement out of respect. Dahlia removed a cleansing candle from her book bag.

"I've only ever read objects or seen in my dreams outside of divine visions, which are usually triggered. I'll need to protect this space as I'll be conversing directly with the ether. We don't want to contact anything that might harm us. Make sure this candle remains lit. That's all I ask."

Hermione nodded again as Dahlia lit the candle with a snap. She sent her quick regards to Theo on the wind, who loved him so much. She wouldn't have known half the magic she had mastered without him. Dahlia removed a blade from her bag.

"You'll have to make a small sacrifice. The sacred balance and the structure of time is built upon the life force — blood magic."

This gave Hermione pause. "Is there anything else I can give?"

Dahlia shook her head. "Time itself. Days of your life but you don't want to trade in that. It's complicated, and often comes with consequences from what I've read."

Hermione sighed. "Fine."

She held out her hands, closed her eyes and braced for the metal blade. Dahlia waved a cleansing charm over her skin before taking the quickest swipe of the knife across her fingertip. Only the smallest drop of blood was taken. It welled, then dripped onto the floor between them.

She opened one eye. "That's it?"

Dahlia rolled her eyes. "Hermione, this isn't a gory affair. I get quite queasy."

She took her hands above the flame. As she opened herself to the stars, it burned in the most unsettling shade of black. Dahlia closed her eyes, visualizing the sacred waters of the dark matter that she had rested so peacefully within. It was the same void she had dived deep into to retrieve the very crystal that rebirthed her.

"Show me them," she whispered in the timeless language, demanding it of her stars that burned, were not yet born, and long dead.

Time swirled around her, and she squeezed Hermione's hands to remain grounded. She saw the castle in a new place in time. Stone blasted and children screeched in fear. Dahlia looked up within the page of time, only to see protective charms racing to the ground like rain. Dahlia whimpered in terror until she grunted in pain. She whirled around to find Hermione had pushed past her spectral figure. She was alive, and young — this was soon.

"We must go further," she murmured.

Dahlia closed her eyes within the image and strummed the bindings of time again. She pulled on a string farther along, where a tiny star danced above it eagerly. It took her hand and pulled her into the threads with all the force of a crashing planet.

She landed with a bounce upon the springs of a hideously upholstered couch. The house was terribly plain and somewhat small. Dahlia realized she was surrounded by muggle devices as a television blared and an automobile was parked out front.

This was her parent's house, Dahlia was sure of it. She heard them mumbling casually just off in the kitchen. She stood and looked around. The sun shone through the white windows unnaturally, as if they weren't in England at all.

Something was off. She stepped towards the mantle of the fireplace and realized the picture frames were bare. There was no trace of Hermione within the home. She reached for the newspaper on the coffee table. It was Australian, she realized, and dated three years in the future. She finally heard the words of her ancestors, passing on the knowledge from beyond.

Dahlia inhaled sharply and released Hermione's hands. She clawed her nails into the wood of the floor, desperate to return to safe ground. She gasped as her eyes finally rolled forward and the weight of her body returned.

Hermione covered her mouth, mystified and also deeply horrified. "I didn't mean to hurt you." Her voice shook.

Dahlia coughed casually. "Gods, Granger. I'm fine. That went surprisingly well."

"Your eyes disappeared," she croaked.

"Yes, that happens sometimes. My apologies."

Hermione blew out the candle, terrified it might happen again. Dahlia took her hand again, this time to give comfort.

"They will live. They just won't remember for a while. I don't know what you'll do to them, but they were happy and far away from this. The Fates told me you need to keep them safe. He will come for them."

Hermione released a shaky breath before pulling her into a hug.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Dahlia kept it to herself how she had seen this very tower burn.

"Thank them, not me."

She pointed to her stars above, one and the same.

— — — — — — — — — —

[Saturday, January 18th, 1:03 AM]

I saw Hogwarts burning in a vision. It was near. Be careful out there.

[Saturday, January 18th, 1:05 AM]

Don't worry about me, my Dahlia. You're the one stuck in the castle. But I'll fix it, and I'll be home before your birthday.