Dahlia studied the mist rising off the Black Lake. The sun had not yet risen. She stood somberly, still as a ghost at the end of the boat dock, dressed in black, waiting for Draco.
She twiddled her new necklace between her fingers, debating if she should throw it into the lake. The idea of being embellished in an object of his affection was almost too much for her bitter heart to bear, but the thought of no longer being his was also unfathomable at the moment. She wanted to toss it to the mermaids out of pettiness, make him swim for it when he would eventually come begging, but she figured she could use all the protection they could manage with the task ahead.
There was no room for anger in her heart. He had filled it full with sweet promises, then paralyzed its beat as he receded from her. She was numb but mostly embarrassed. She had cared for him so deeply that she had screamed it to the entire world. Now, she would have to shrug in disappointment when people asked where he went and why he no longer hung around. It was a painful reminder of why she had always preferred to keep true romance out of her orbit — if you spun too close to a screeching star, you would inevitably get burned.
She couldn't imagine a world where he no longer cared for her. Logically, she knew the best course of action was to keep him as far away as possible. She reminded herself ceaselessly that he had only left her to keep her safe. She rationalized his actions to stifle the heartbreak. She prayed to the Fates to guide him back to her — and to also knock him off his broom during quidditch practice. She saw how he paled at heights.
Although he had claimed that she shouldn't have told him, it would have been impossible to hide at some point. She knew he would have found out eventually if they continued on. She stood by her decision to tell him sooner than later and potentially risk lying to him — which she wagered was a larger offense in his eyes. If only she hadn't misread the bloody stars, taking their song as a sign to tell him. She willed herself against another wave of tears. She hadn't expected him to choose to leave her instead of accept her.
She wondered if it would drive Theo to madness if he eventually equated that both Dahlia and Draco were missing today. Would he have stayed for her if he knew she had already set her mind to strengthening her power if only to protect her? That keeping her distance was pointless if she was already conspiring with Draco? Of one thing, she was absolutely certain: he would never allow her to meddle in such dark, misunderstood magic. It had been right to keep this a secret. He would have stopped this. Stopped her, and she had to do this. It was a calling unfolding within her.
She heard approaching footsteps cut through the fog. She turned to see Draco prowling towards her, armored with his usual bored scowl. He made no niceties as he walked into the boathouse. He waved her over to a nearby barrel. He wasted no time. He was dressed in black as well and appeared quite animated for five in the morning. She followed him to where he stood, feeling ashamed of her puffy eyes.
"Show me where we are going," he demanded as he placed his hands in his pockets.
They huddled closer to strategize. She pulled out her book from Professor Trelawney and placed it on top of the barrel. She read the passage aloud quietly. "Located in the depths of the coastal caverns southeast of the South Sea Bog, an abundance of amplifying crystals are rumored to be found."
He crossed his arms and huffed sharply. He tilted his head in disapproval and gave her a frustrated look. "You didn't pack a map?" He admonished in disbelief.
"No? Was I supposed to bring one?" She answered pleasantly. She was confused as to why he would assume she had. If anything, he was the one who needed to bring a map since he'd be navigating them.
"For fuck's sake," he exclaimed. He ran his fingers through his silver hair in exasperation. He threw his hand back down. "And I'm sorry, did you say 'rumored' to be found?"
She was quiet as she shifted her weight uncomfortably. She had come too far for him to leave her now. She needed just one thing to go her way.
"I don't think I've ever heard you say sorry before," she quipped as to distract from the subject. She knew finding a random cave depicted in a decrepit book was a long shot, but getting him here was half the battle.
He ripped the book from beneath her hands and flipped through its pages. He sighed and met her gaze with coldness. "It was sarcasm, Aldair. If you're expecting an apology for what I've said to you — you won't get one."
She didn't respond; she didn't want to answer. There were no words in that moment that would have compared to Theo's much crueler ones she had just endured only hours ago. She was well-stretched for more unkindness today.
He looked up at her expectantly for a snide remark that never came. Wariness crossed his brow as he noted her uncharacteristic silence. He closed the book with a thud, sending dust into the blackness of the morning.
"Come on, Aldair. We should leave," he muttered.
He took her backpack and headed out of the boathouse. He sat on his broom under the fading starlight. Dahlia awkwardly stood there, unsure of where to sit. There was a limited amount of space both in front and behind him.
"Get on," he ordered impatiently. Dahlia moved to swing her leg behind him, but he shoved her away.
"In front of me, you idiot. I don't need you flying off. Then this whole trip would have been a waste of my time," he sneered.
She moved to sit in front of him, her heart racing. She was mortified and started to doubt if she was willing to take the trip if she had to ride like this the whole way. She tried to maintain a distance between her back and his chest.
"What, you've never had a guy this close behind you before?" He teased.
She didn't need to look back to know he was grinning at her discomfort.
He lifted off the ground, and the force of the wind instantly pushed them closer together. She could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck with every inhale he took as her back pressed against him.
"Maybe we shouldn't tell Pansy about this," she joked as she tried to ease her own awkward feelings.
"She's not my girlfriend." He paused. "On the other hand, I can't wait to tell Theo about this. Cozying up with his schoolgirl crush," he teased.
She rolled her eyes. "Save your breath. We're on the rocks."
"So soon? Then I would take off that family heirloom," he said in a low, mocking tone. He ran his fingertip along the back of her neck, lightly tugging on the clasp of the necklace.
She turned and slapped away his hand. "You know, Malfoy, I think I prefer your silent treatment. You're far too chipper in the morning," she snapped, irritated.
He shrugged. They quickly soared off the dock and flew into the sunrise. They had made it past the castle under cover of early hour darkness. They didn't speak any longer as they settled in for the journey.
They had been traveling for about two hours when she started to fall asleep. He felt her drift off and roughly patted her cheek to keep her awake.
"Ow!" She rubbed her face.
"Let's stop for water." He lowered to the ground beneath the cover of the trees.
She got off the broom and shook her legs out.
"Are we almost there?" She whined.
He raised a brow incredulously. "Dahlia, we're still technically in the valley of Hogwarts. Do you not know basic geography?" He scoffed.
She pursed her lips, still stuck in a sour mood.
The sun had risen, and in the early morning light, she was able to properly take him in. He was wearing a black crewneck sweatshirt and matching joggers. It was a crisp day as winter was surely approaching. She was dressed similarly in a warm, black athletic set. She noticed his crewneck had an embroidered silver 'M' on it. She snorted.
"What?" He asked as he threw her backpack down in front of her. She rummaged through it and handed him the water she had packed. He took it from her without a word.
" 'M' for Malfoy, I'm guessing?" She asked with a hint of provocation.
He followed her gaze to his crewneck.
"Don't start with me," he sighed. "We've had a decent morning."
He was unfazed by her comment. He took a swig from the water canister, and his sweatshirt rose to reveal a glimpse of toned muscle beneath it.
"You're welcome," she quipped, uneasy in the silence and the flash of skin.
He didn't respond. His hair had been windswept and began to wave in the morning dew. He was flushed from their journey. He moved with grace, even when drinking water. You could tell just from observing him why he was a skilled seeker. Every move was precise.
He noticed her staring and smirked as if he appreciated that she recognized he was handsome, even if she hated him.
Dahlia blushed and averted her gaze. He withheld from commenting on her lingering gaze. She realized that this was the most civil they had been in their whole life.
"So what's the plan when we make it past the bog? Is there a specific cavern I should be looking for?" He squatted down in front of her as he began rummaging through their bag in search of something else.
"All I know is that goblins used to mine in the caverns. Hopefully, that will make any entrances to the caves more obvious from above," she answered amicably.
He stood and paced as he thought. "There's only one way to get near the mines and to the coastal caverns. We have to take a passage through the ravine." He stopped pacing and faced her.
"This is going to take quite a long time, Aldair. I hope you know what you're doing. Hypothetically, If we were to find a crystal, what are you even going to do with it?" He rubbed his hands down to his face, conveying that this was becoming much more than what he had agreed to do.
She ignored him as she flipped through the musty book, looking for more clues. She wasn't sure how to tell Draco that she planned to unleash an awful spell upon herself, and he might possibly be returning without her.
He would probably enjoy the ride back in spacious peace , she thought.
"It says they need salt water to thrive. Maybe we check the cliffs off the ocean for cave openings?" She remarked inconspicuously.
She was throwing darts in darkness.
He snatched the book from her and perused its pages. "Answer me," he demanded as he tore his eyes from the book to give her a hard nod.
"I'm going to spellbind its power," she sighed as if it was the most obvious answer to what anyone would do with a special rock.
"Do you know how?" He smirked. "If we're basing your magical abilities off your performance in potions, I'd say we're fucked."
He grinned playfully, and Dahlia wasn't sure what to make of it.
His smile and banter threw her off-kilter. She attempted to rip the wings off the butterflies that threatened to dance in her stomach. She had to remind herself that the man in front of her had whispered hurtful things and shoved her around several times.
She sauntered close. "I mean, I've practiced the words a few times."
She took the book from his grasp and held it up dramatically. She waved the book around, and as the ancient binding faltered, a page fell to the ground.
"it's not exactly written clearly," she replied sarcastically,
He shot her a hard look, then slowly spun around as he took in their location. His eyes danced ominously as if realizing the forest was far too quiet, watching them, holding its breath.
"Come on, Aldair. Let's get out of here," he said. His word was the final say.
—
They flew throughout the morning and into the afternoon, stopping occasionally for water and snacks. The late sun attempted to pierce through the whipping clouds as Draco and Dahlia soared downwards to explore an old mine.
Dahlia's stomach slammed into her throat as he abruptly accelerated towards the ground. He held tight and felt him smile as if he had been holding back. He heard Dahlia yelp, cringing as if they might crash. He evened out moments before landing on the plush grass. He snickered at her terror.
"You did that on purpose," she accused in annoyance.
He grinned at her as she dismounted and stretched. "I'm a seeker. What did you expect?" He replied as he pulled his gloves off. He smirked, then looked down.
She stepped forward and glanced around the base of the mountain where they had landed. She peered up at the colossal ridge before her. They had finally entered the ravine. Wildflowers bloomed between the darkened rock.
"Should we explore?" She asked, looking back at Draco with her hands placed on her hips.
He shrugged, uncaring. "Do you feel anything…different?" He inquired as he stepped forward to stand next to her, looking forward at the beast of rocks.
She had also thought she might sense an amplifier once they had gotten close enough. They stood quiet, side by side, both gazing into the ominous black pit that had been carved into the ravine centuries ago.
"Do you think I should be able to feel something?" She asked seriously. She peered up at him with sincerity so he would be able to tell that she wasn't mocking him.
He met her gaze sharply and quickly rolled his eyes. "I don't know, Dahlia. You tell me," he replied rhetorically. She was the expert in senses.
She glared back at him, tilting her head up. He was so much taller than her. This might have been the first time he had called her by her first name or the first time she had noticed it. It was crisp on his tongue. Quick, as if he didn't want it to linger in his mouth. Theo often drawled it out wonderfully.
She mustered bravery and walked forth toward the mouth of the mountain. Draco was hesitant to follow. She turned around. "Scared, Draco?"
He looked up at the mountain with a hidden expression. He took out his wand and followed her. They entered the cavern, the afternoon light quickly abandoning them. They both lit their wands before the darkness consumed them. They came to a crossroads as they approached two tunnels veering in opposite directions.
"Should we split up?" Dahlia didn't admit the thought terrified her.
He looked around nervously and replied, "I don't think that's a good idea."
"As you wish," she sighed casually. She closed her eyes and attempted to sense a way forward that might lead her to what she so desired.
Draco snorted next to her. "Using your little powers?" He snickered.
She slapped him in the chest for teasing her.
"I can't sense anything," she replied, disappointed.
She made an impulsive decision to take the tunnel on the left. Draco followed wordlessly. The air chilled the farther they went. The light from their wands only illuminated a few steps in front of them now.
She took a chance, hating the silence. "Is this worse than the Forbidden Forest, you think?" She asked him slyly, referencing their detention together a few years ago.
So did he, rolling a dice. "Nothing is worse than the Forbidden Forest," he replied and laughed lowly. "I'm starting to wish those Centaurs had carried you off; then I wouldn't be-"
A scream ripped from Dahlia as she suddenly slid down a slope they hadn't expected in the darkness. Her wand escaped her grasp as she reached for Draco, but it was too late.
"Draco!" She cried.
She tumbled to the ground below and finally landed on what appeared to be sand. Her wand had been deluminated as it had slipped from her hand. She searched feverishly through the sand for it.
"No, no, no!"
A hard body suddenly slammed into her. He had thrown himself down the tunnel to follow her. She grunted in pain as she tried to push Draco off and detangle their bodies. "Get off of me!"
He growled in response as he now searched for his own wand in the depths of blackness. He was panicked, too. She touched his hand and pulled away. He accidentally brushed her upper thigh, and Dahlia slapped his hand away.
"Careful!" She hissed.
"I should have left you here to rot," he spat in frustration.
Dahlia crawled away from him as she searched the sand. She finally gripped something hard and felt that it was a wand.
"Lumos!" She cast.
It gently sparked, mildly angry to be cast by anyone but its master, but obeyed her curiously. It lit brightly, and she confirmed her suspicions; she had found Draco's wand. She quickly handed it to Draco, who used the light to find her own wand. He brushed away the black sand on his knees as he spotted it. He picked it up and wiped it on his shirt, cleaning it for her.
"Here," he said, handing the wand to her.
A wave of relief washed over her. She lit her wand and stepped forward. She heard water splash below her feet. She looked down as the water began to glow softly around where she stood.
"Draco," she said breathlessly, "come look!"
She bent down and ran her hand through the water. A trail of brilliant blue, incandescent light followed her fingertips. She smiled at its beauty. It was a lake, shimmering with a thousand droplets of broken jewels where bioluminescent tiny fish had found refuge.
Draco stepped beside her as he leaned down to skip his own hand across the water. He looked up at her as she watched the dazzling luminescence dance beneath her hand, suddenly too breathless to move.
Her eyes met his own. She was suddenly beguiled by the way he appeared in the reflection of the shimmering light. His eyes glimmered like the stars above, lost in the heavens. His white hair glowed here as the ice-blue hues of the lake danced across his hard, cruel features.
She looked away, embarrassed that she had stared for too long again. He said nothing as he stood up, towering over her, stepping too close for her comfort, but he held firmly in his place.
He stilled, all but his fingers that twitched like he might want to hold her. "Do you feel anything?" He murmured quietly.
She knew he was referencing her ability to sense an amplifier, but the question felt loaded. She wondered if he felt the same horrible urge, too — to press his lips to hers just once. No one would see, no one would ever know. Her bones were aching as something bloomed, or rotted, within them. She couldn't be sure.
She had never hated herself more than in this moment because she knew if he leaned down, she wouldn't have the willpower to resist.
"I-I don't think so," she whispered as she combated the urge to touch his face.
She heard his unsteady breath as silence blanketed them. He was preternaturally still as if something foreign called within him.
"I don't like this place. There's something unsettling about it," he replied darkly, looking past her. He stepped back, and to her horror, she almost reached for him.
He seemed just as flustered as she felt. Draco pushed past her harshly, and Dahlia's pulse slowed as she reached for her heart. He began searching for a way to exit the expansive cave behind her.
"Are you coming, Dahlia?" He called, using her name again.
"Yes," she answered meekly.
They agreed their best bet was to climb up the slope they had fallen down. Draco managed to climb to the top of the hole first. He reached down for her hand. She took his offered help without pause as she struggled. He lifted her up onto the cold, stone floor of the tunnel. He stood, yanking her up with him.
"Let's just get out of here," she whispered.
He nodded in agreement. She grabbed his arm, but he strode forward, shaking her grip so his hand would fall into hers. She didn't object as he led her out of the darkness in a hurry. They soon saw sunlight, and Dahlia dashed towards it, not realizing how scared she had been all this time. He chased after her until they emerged back in the ravine.
They closed their eyes, adjusting to the sunlight, and exhaled with relief once they made it through the mouth of the cavern. Dahlia looked at Draco as he put his hands behind his head, winded. She began to laugh at the circumstance of it all. Theo had dumped her. She had just crawled through a dirty cave miles away from Hogwarts, and she had somehow formed an amicable alliance with Draco Malfoy. She shook her head at him as a humorous grin spread across his face, as well. Her laughter was contagious. This scenario was ridiculous.
"Fucking hell," he chuckled in disbelief of their circumstances. He watched as Dahlia approached several abandoned carts that had once been used for mining.
"Get in the cart," she demanded with a hidden giggle.
"We don't have time for this," he answered, trying to wrangle seriousness into his expression.
"Wait. Come look!" She yelled, waving him over.
He assumed she wanted him to search inside the ancient, rickety thing. He pushed his hair out of his face and walked over to her. He stepped inside one of the wooden carts and looked around to see what she had found.
He lifted his gaze to her at the same moment she kicked the cart with a deadpan expression. Draco was thrown back with a grunt as she watched it roll down a small hill. She threw her head back and laughed, then slowly chased after it. He fell over as the cart eventually slammed into the side of the ravine. She ran up to him as tears of laughter threatened to escape her eyes.
"Dahlia!" He shrieked, angry. He stood and glared at her, but she kept laughing. He couldn't maintain his contempt for her and eventually cracked. He started laughing, too.
"Dead to me, Aldair," he said with a roguish grin. He shook his head. "We're done here," he said sternly as he climbed out of the broken cart. He pushed her playfully to walk back up the hill.
They once again took to the skies.
—
They searched the ocean cliffs long after dark. Draco could feel Dahlia shivering between his arms as the evening chill took hold.
"I don't think we're going to find it," he sighed in defeat.
"We have to find it. Please, let's keep looking," she begged. She was desperate.
"Dahlia, I think we should look when there's daylight. Let's give it a break. We're both exhausted," he said softly but sternly. Draco tried to reason with her. They were both growing weary as the night had fallen. "We'll find it," he assured her.
They landed near the edge of a cliff that overlooked the roaring ocean. It crashed against the rocks below with a great force that slammed into her ears as it broke against the rocks. The salt spray misted the air.
The gods were restless, she thought.
She looked up to the night sky for guidance. For once, she heard no whispers. She had the sense that she was right where she needed to be. The silence was serene.
They walked towards the edge of the tree line, where they felt a bit safer. They didn't want to be spotted by any drifters. "Eloise gave me her tent just in case this happened," she said, kneeling as she slung her bag onto the ground.
She muttered a spell into her backpack, and a small tent materialized in front of them. Draco was starting a fire to combat the cold. He pushed up his sleeves. Dahlia stilled as she saw the Dark Mark upon his arm.
She thought for a moment that it must be so freeing for him to be in a place where he didn't have to be worried about covering up the black ink that doomed him. She refrained from commenting on the mark as to give him some peace, but he noticed her gaze.
"You want to see it," he asked her in a teasing tone.
She swayed towards him.
Draco stiffened. He had only asked her in jest. He hadn't properly gauged her level of curiosity. He thought just the sight of it would frighten her, but he suddenly realized he didn't know her at all. He reached out to her as she approached. She pulled his forearm closer, her fingertips light and soft upon his skin. She tilted her head as she studied the hideous snake and skull with a blank expression. She hovered her hand above it as if she wanted to touch it.
"I wouldn't," he remarked rigidly, but he made no move to pull away from her, trusting that she would obey his warning. He was worried it would spark some sort of reaction from her or the Dark Mark, as it seemed to be somewhat sentient.
She looked up at him, kindly concerned. "Does it hurt?" She whispered.
He stammered in surprise for a moment, shocked that had been what she wondered first, that she cared how he might have felt.
"Sometimes," he answered quietly. "It burns when he calls. I can feel my pulse beating within it when I'm angry."
He had never talked about it. He had been irrevocably branded and marked as a murderer for the rest of his life. Even if the Dark Lord fell, the mark would remain a twisted scar that would always raise eyebrows. It weighed greatly. There was a power that accompanied pureblood ideology, but he wasn't sure if he could kill for that reason alone, even though the mark made him thirsty for it.
"So, that's what? All the time?" She joked to lighten the mood.
She gave him a small smile as her eyes peered up in the firelight, welcoming as a sleeping forest, and he could suddenly grasp why Theo felt so insecure about himself around her. She carried a hopeful aura that was free from judgment. He pitied her for overlooking such wickedness. There was no goodness in either of them. There was nothing worth searching for and nothing to pull from the murky depths of their lost hearts.
She let go of his arm and then circled to the other side of the fire. In her quick absence, he realized why he hated her so much. She was so blindly trusting in her dreams. She could dream for something better. She saw light where he couldn't.
He watched as she took a seat on the grass and crossed her legs.
"Draco?" She called faintly.
He quickly thought that might be his favorite way she had ever said his name as if she was calling him back to sleep in the night. "What, Aldair?" He sighed, ready for some quiet peace.
Her eyes lifted, unassuming. "How do you know my father?"
He stilled as he readied to throw more branches into the fire. He contemplated how to answer delicately. He should have never lost his temper and been so careless. This question had probably decayed inside her for weeks.
"I don't. I just said that to get under your skin," he lied. He felt a disgusting need to comfort her in this moment. He knew what was happening, who whispered in the Dark Lord's favor. He couldn't imagine how it might feel to wander aimlessly like prey in the darkness as the Dark Lord strengthened, readying to take his seat in power.
He continued, "My father works with your father. I'm not privy to their dealings. He comes around from time to time."
She was quiet as she waited to see if he would provide any more details.
He sighed as her wide eyes wouldn't let up. "I've never seen the Dark Mark on him, nor have I ever seen him in the same room as the Dark Lord, but if you want my advice, you should really take this up with him."
He threw another branch into the flames. "Seems like a personal matter," he muttered. He looked up from the fire that separated them, checking if his answer had sufficed.
Dahlia wondered if he was telling her the whole truth. She didn't push, knowing they still had another day together ahead of them. They couldn't afford to have a fight at this point. He might leave her stranded amongst the bluffs.
He seemed talkative, so she continued asking questions.
"Are you going to hand me over to Voldemort? If this works?" She asked quietly with rising anxiety. It was present in her voice as it carried to him — fear.
She feared him, he realized. She should, but the revelation was still a hot iron.
He stiffened, his eyes whipping to her as his face twisted into a ghastly expression, whether because she had said the Dark Lord's name or because she was questioning his intentions.
"Don't tell me it hasn't crossed your mind," she pushed.
She pulled her knees to her chest, feeling exposed. The air between them became taut with tension. His eyes went cold, brimming with familiar hate or new betrayal.
"No," he finally answered. "That is not an option for me." His jaw was set tightly.
She washed with relief. It was the smallest sign that maybe she could trust him. Maybe he wasn't all blackness; he was just born from it. He shot her a warning glare not to question him further, but the quietness between them persisted.
"I told Theo I'm a seer," she admitted. The words tumbled out of her. She couldn't stop herself as her emotions cracked through her well-crafted guise. She was free this far from the castle, and he was so rational and sure of himself. It was comforting, as she was none of those things.
He leaned his head back and groaned, disappointed. He let out a thick, haughty breath as if this was the last thing he needed.
"And?"
She was quiet for a moment, wishing she could take it back. His reaction was evidence enough; she shouldn't have told him.
"I don't know where we stand now," she mumbled. She wouldn't admit that he had fucking dumped her and that he did know where he wanted to stand with her.
"I'll take care of it," he grunted, adding another item to his never-ending, murderous to-do list. He angrily tossed a tree branch into the fire. Theo would be a problem, a worse problem now. He would never leave, let her go, now that he had her secrets.
Dahlia watched as Draco pushed his hair out of his face. He looked exhausted. Dahlia could only imagine what she looked like. She sensed he was done talking, not wanting one more problem from her. She stood and quietly walked inside the tent. She was surprised when he followed her.
She felt the warm air as she pushed back the fabric opening. She froze, seeing it first. Her stomach hit the floor. Maybe she could ignore it. Maybe Draco would, too. She could only hope.
He stopped abruptly next to her, taking in their surroundings — the lack of furniture. "Aldair, why is there one fucking bed in this tent?"
He was lethally calm. It had the hair on her skin rising.
"I told you, Eloise gave me this tent. I didn't exactly have another enchanted tent lying around last minute," she spat back in defense.
Draco chuckled.
"I'm not sleeping on the floor," he said defiantly, shaking his head.
"Wow. Ever the gentleman, Malfoy." She gave him a sarcastic grin.
He crossed his arms to hold his ground. "I've never slept on a floor in my entire life."
"There's a first time for everything," she replied lyrically as she stepped further into the tent. She sat on the bed as she faced him, claiming it.
"I'm the one who brought you out here in the first place because you can't fly a damn broom," he scoffed, hating the sight of her on his bed for the evening.
He stormed inside the tent and towered over her as she sat on the end of the bed. Her eyes were innocent, defiant, as she peered up at him. He pushed a sick thought out of his mind as she hovered by his waist, looking up at him so lovely. He took a step back, hating that he needed to calm himself. Hating that he was fucking attracted to the most annoying creature on earth.
"And I'm the one who has to cast a powerful, ancient spell in the morning. Shouldn't I be well-rested?" She retorted, falling back on the bed, flat on her back. The skin beneath her sweatshirt was subtly exposed. He balled his fist, needing something to do with his hands, as she lay before him. He glared at her.
"I fucking hate you," he mumbled to himself before his temper flared. "Get out of my bed!" He hissed.
"No!"
He pulled her by the ankles roughly as she flailed, holding onto the covers like they might save her from his wrath. He yanked her off the bed harshly. She caught air before her bum landed on the oriental carpet beneath the bed. She stood quickly. He tried to lie down to claim the bed, but she pulled on his sweatshirt, trying to hold him back. She realized too late she wasn't nearly strong enough. She shrieked as his momentum had her falling with him. She kicked him away as soon as they sprung on the mattress together.
"Move!" She cried.
"I'm not moving..." Draco said calmly.
An hour later, they both were lying on their backs on opposite sides of the bed. They stared at the ceiling as the one singular pillow the tent had provided was stuffed between them. Draco thought this was probably the closest he had been to a girl on her back, fully clothed.
She broke the awkwardness filling the air. "So what do I owe you after all of this?"
He was quiet as he spun his silver signet ring around his finger. The action reminded her of Theo, always fidgeting.
"Theoretically, if this works," he sighed. "I need your help discerning if there is a way to fix an object I'm working on."
"That's it? You don't want me to see if I can find a path for you where you can stay clear of the Dark Lord altogether?" She asked curiously.
He angled his eyes to her. There was pity within them.
"You know there is no path through this that isn't blood-soaked, right? It's too late, Dahlia," he whispered.
Dahlia looked away. His eyes, too seeing.
Draco stopped to think, adding it up. "Is that what you intend to do for Nott?"
She didn't speak. He took her silence as confirmation. He chuckled at her as if she were a child or dense. "The only way Theo is getting out of this is if he runs for the rest of his life. Probably living in conditions similar to this," he said, gesturing around them.
"He won't do that. He won't leave his father behind, despite their relationship. He's not firm in the cause, and neither am I honestly, but he can be monstrous for people he loves."
Her throat felt tight. She couldn't answer, so he continued, if only to fill the silence.
"We're alike in that way, I guess. But Dahlia, he can be impulsive and destructive — unhinged, dare I say. You should know that. It's okay to let him go. He doesn't need help from you. He probably doesn't want it."
She felt her stomach drop and her eyes turn hot. The words only hit this hard since Theo had told her something similar just last night. She rolled over on her opposite side, away from him. She was terrified he would see her cry. She tightened her jaw and willed herself against all emotions. No one, especially Draco, would see her tears.
"I think you're right, Draco. I am a fucking idiot," she admitted, wallowing in self-pity.
How could she not have seen this? Was she that delusional that she thought Theo would just want to run away with her? That it would be even possible if he did want to run away with her?
Draco felt the urge to comfort her but withheld. He knew she was close to crying but didn't let on for her sake. She looked like a weeping angel from the paintings in his home. He hated that he thought her beautiful. He hated that she was wasted on Theo.
"You aren't that idiotic," he snorted. "Maybe naïve to the situation and unknowledgeable to all the pieces on the board, but not an idiot," he mumbled quietly, his voice drifting with foreign sincerity. He could vomit now.
She didn't answer him.
"If I got one thing right, it's that you most definitely are a nightmare," he chuckled.
She took the pillow between them and hit him with it. He held his arms out, ready to fight again. He snickered, grinning unapologetically as she faced him. She couldn't help but laugh, either.
He was terribly handsome in the rippling darkness. It was her worst thought.
She sighed in frustration and pulled the pillow back to her chest. She embraced the comfort of his silence and his assuredness. He pressed his back to hers, and she hated to admit that she felt safer than ever with him around.
"Goodnight," she breathed.
"Don't," he grumbled.
Dahlia smiled to herself, almost wishing they could stay here and never return to their problems, before falling into a dreamless sleep as exhaustion took her.
—
Dahlia fluttered her eyes open to the golden morning light. The sat air hung thickly, reminding her of the comforts of her mother's home. She felt Theo's bare chest against her lower back as her crewneck had crept up her stomach during the night. She pushed back against him, and his arm tightened around her waist, pulling her closer. She was safe. She felt his hardness pressing against her and softly exhaled with a morning whine. He let out a sleepy groan as she pushed her bum into him and breathed in her hair. She reached back for him. It felt so good against her.
She opened her eyes, becoming fully cognizant of where she was.
She was physically horrified to realize her mistake, nearly cringing. She had mistaken Draco for Theo, and worse — she had even tried to engage in explicit activities while he slept.
She silently covered her mouth in shock and tried to remove Draco's hand from her stomach, careful not to wake him. He had slipped his hand under her sweatshirt to hold her close while they slept.
Nothing happened, she reminded herself.
They were just cold — huddling for body warmth as one does when stranded in the wilderness. He pulled her back gruffly as she tried to squirm away.
She opened her mouth, wishing she could scream. It was the fuel of nightmares.
Fuck this glorified rock, and fuck this fucking tent.
"Stay here, baby," he mumbled, sleeping peacefully.
She managed to shift onto her back, covering her eyes so she wouldn't have to witness the outline of his morning curse as it pressed against her bum. Once safely rolled over, she urgently patted his face, trying hard not to look down. Not even once.
Oh god. Fuck! Fuck! Why is he shirtless! And why is he so strong!
"Wake up, Draco!" She screamed in a whisper.
He opened his grey eyes slowly and rolled onto his back, as well. He wasn't the least bit startled that they had cuddled while they slept, unlike her. Dahlia's mouth fell agape as he pitched his own large tent, unbothered. She blushed, entirely embarrassed as she scurried out of the small bed, falling, then crawled on the ground as if she couldn't get away fast enough.
Draco rubbed his face, then suddenly sat up with a confused expression.
"Draco, where is your shirt!" She yelled, looking around frantically.
She was flustered as a blush permanently plastered her cheeks. He was far too fit. It was awful — the way her own body reacted was absolutely awful. She couldn't look away.
He turned to her in a daze. He glanced around as if trying to piece something together. He rubbed his eyes, confused. He finally turned his gaze to her. She stilled, lying on the floor as he wore the most heart-wrenching expression that she had left his side.
"Draco?" She called quietly.
She stood and slowly stepped to where he sat on the edge of the bed. Something like pain finally cracked in his eyes.
"We were…" His voice drifted softly, still stuck in a dream.
"Yes, and we will never speak of this." She answered lightly, fidgeting with her hands.
"No," he stated with soft desolation, entirely serious as if his world was upended.
He stood in a flare of rage and towered over her. His chest collided with hers as he stepped forward. She stepped back, almost hitting the wall of the tent. He lifted her sweatshirt over her head as she railed against him. She fought as he removed her clothing and threw it on the bed.
"Draco! What are you doing!" She screamed in shock, pulling away. She wrapped her arms around herself as she was left standing there in nothing but her black bra and leggings.
His eyes were riddled with confusion. She felt utterly exposed beneath his gaze. Dahlia grew worried he might actually hurt her as he refused to let her go. He spun her around, and she whimpered as he lightly traced her back, jumping from his touch as she cowered.
"Please," she pleaded, wanting him to let her go.
He placed his hand flat on her back, then smoothed it up her spine, brushing his thumb against the back of her neck like he loved her, like he couldn't stand the idea of letting her go. He gently brushed his hand against her side, beneath her bra. It was terribly intimate and left her shaking, reeling.
"It's gone," he murmured in disbelief. His voice showed that he was broken. Entirely broken.
He stepped back from her as he grew more alarmed. Sorrow washed over him as he realized that what they had done, what he had experienced, wasn't reality.
"Dahlia, did you not come to me last night?" He mumbled quietly, running his hands through his hair in obvious distress.
She turned around to face him, and he continued deliriously. "You brought me there, and we-"
He paced, word dying. "You did it...and it left markings on your back."
"What are you talking about?" She whispered, voice shaking as she dropped her arms to her side. "We found the crystal? In your dreams?" She asked him quietly in fear.
Dahlia approached him slowly, worried he was going to have a full mental breakdown. He pushed her back, frustrated.
"You come to me almost every fucking night! You know what I'm talking about!" He yelled in her face as he knocked over the items on the nightstand. She flinched as he overshadowed her and slammed his fist against the wall behind her.
Dahlia grabbed his face to calm him with shaking hands. Her mind raced for answers. He had clearly had a vision of her, but what was he talking about? How long had he been having visions of her?
"It's alright," she calmly whispered to soothe him as she cupped his face. "It's okay, Draco. I have them, too."
She smoothed his hair and brushed his cheeks, willing his eyes to come back to her.
"They are only meant to guide us. I know they are vivid, but it wasn't real," she whispered firmly. Her hands slid down his neck to his bare chest, resting over his heart. "It was just a dream."
His eyes fell with a deeply cutting understanding. She let go of him and took a step to the side, composing herself as much as she could manage as she stood barefoot in her bra.
His shoulders fell. Heartbreak was written on his face.
"Dahlia, I…" He couldn't bear the weight of what he knew. His chest caved with something close to a sob. She stepped up to him immediately, placing her poisoned touch on his heart once more.
"It wasn't real," she repeated in a sweet murmur, rubbing his bare biceps.
Her words were meant to soothe, but they only tore him apart.
She filled the stunned silence. Her hands cupped his face once more, centering his gaze. "Okay, we are going to follow the same path as your dream, and we are going to find what we came for, then get out of here. You'll never have to deal with me again. I promise," she whispered.
He clenched his jaw as a cold rage was quick to devour him. Dahlia winced as he tore away from her. He grabbed his sweatshirt and walked out of the tent. He no longer appeared confused — he looked hurt.
Draco stormed into the cold, pulling his sweatshirt over his head. He stopped a breath away from the edge of the cliff, nearly tempted to follow the call of the tides.
Nothing mattered. Nothing fucking mattered anymore, not without her.
What he remembered had been too vivid. Too real. He wiped his face, willing himself to forget it all, but he couldn't. He fucking couldn't. He remembered it all.
She had taken his hand and pulled him out of bed in the hush of the night, the witching hour. She led him deeper into the forest, lingering beyond. He heard endless whispers, Her whispers. They hissed for him to fulfill a bounded need — a destiny. She led him down a staircase carved into the cliff's side. She had guided him along the black sand beach, slowly undressing with every step she took. She had removed even her necklace, dropping it into the sand thoughtlessly. The stars rained down on her as if coming home, and the ocean had roared, wailing as the tides reversed. The sand burned purely white under her feet. She was scorching the earth, not worthy of her step.
He knew then she wasn't like them. His throat dried, threatening to weep in reverence. He had said nothing in awe of her. How had he not known? Was this even her?
She looked back and stated, all-knowing. "You have to be cleansed to see, Draco."
He followed her by will or entranced. He wasn't sure. He stopped at the precipice of a cavern as she entered. He instinctively knew this place was not meant for him. She slowly stepped into a pool of a thousand refracting diamonds — a lake of starlight. She turned around and graced him with the most lovely glance as if she would love him forever and a day before she slowly disappeared beneath the crystallized depths. She was gone. Gone for a horrible minute, and he couldn't stand it — being without her. He panicked. The sudden absence of her was overwhelming. He screamed her name.
Then, she resurfaced.
Dahlia's head bobbed up from the pool, and she emerged anew from the sacred water — naked, dripping wet, and holding a jagged, black crystal. She came to her knees in the black sand and cradled it within the palm of her hand. He blinked, and no sooner, she began pushing the ghastly rock straight through her own heart. Nausea and shock ricocheted through him as he witnessed her break her own bones, uncaring. She gasped. Blood streamed down her arms. She smiled as she screeched the most horrid sound he had ever heard. She was breaking.
He went to her then, crossing the barrier, and dropped to his knees. Draco pulled her close, truly frightened that she had taken her life. He held her as she transformed from a broken bird into something more — something otherworldly. Her hair turned white and shone brilliantly for a moment. Her skin glowed as if it had been infused with the constellations. She was moonlight incarnate, and he was breathless to witness it. An inscription formed on her skin right beneath her heart and flowed to her back in swooping motions as if the wind had written it.
"It's okay," he had whispered to her. "Everything is okay."
She peered up, then gently kissed him.
It was as if a thousand eyes opened. An infinite amount of possibilities seemed to exist in front of him. He had never chased such a high. She removed his clothes, and they had gotten lost in each other through all of time. She had opened for him if only to share the knowledge of lost and found worlds. Her breathless moans had carried the promise of their singularity. He saw upon her Divine, bare skin endless visions — they played as children in the gardens; he spun her in ballrooms; he blew out birthday candles as he held her in his arms; she kissed him in salty waters under a summer sun, he caught her stumble in a grassy meadow, he saw her kiss the forehead blonde child, and he saw her weep beneath the stars drenched in blood. When they finished, she kissed his cheek and whispered, "Your path is where mine ends."
It echoed in his mind now. She hadn't been Dahlia. She, it , was something else. What did that wretched creature mean? He didn't wish for a path that wasn't hers — not anymore.
He stood hopeless on the bluff. She didn't love him here. Could never love him in this lifetime. What was even his fucking purpose?
Dahlia got dressed and threw her hair up into a bun. She stepped out into the morning and packed up the tent. Draco was standing near the cliff's edge, looking out into the distance. She came over, stood next to him, and gently rubbed his back.
Something had changed between them.
Despair radiated from him as if his world had been burned to ash. She no longer cared about their differences. She would let it go. They could dig up that grave another time. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. He didn't return the gesture, but he didn't push her away either.
"You're going to be okay," she whispered.
She felt him tremble.
She started to wonder if his malice was a mask he wore to the world around him, too, as she did. Perhaps he was cruel because he had been haunted. Possibly, she realized, by her.
I think I'm meant to love you , he thought it, but couldn't turn it into a breath.
Maybe, in a lifetime where great love stories persisted, this would have been the moment he laid his cards on the table, but it wasn't. He felt as if he had lost her when she was never even his to lose. It was an uncalculated risk.
"Let's go." His voice broke.
She pulled away and cupped his face.
"Are you sure? We can just go back," she whispered gently.
"No, we aren't going back. I know what we need to do." He was steadfast.
She quickly grabbed their things, and he urgently led her into the forest. He gripped the sides of his temples like he was in agony. She had asked repeatedly what was wrong, but he refused to answer her.
Draco willed himself to push through their screams. He wondered how Dahlia managed the endless hissing and raging whispers. He couldn't fucking stand it.
They were silent until they came across a set of carved stairs that led down to a small beach. It was a narrow, ancient path carved into the cliffside. He motioned for her to follow him. She reached for his hand to help her climb down, but he refused to touch her, almost terrified of her. She slowly climbed down the stairs, holding tightly on the side of the cliff as he walked ahead silently.
She finally made it down to the beach, where he waited for her. The unruly waves beat against the black sand as if the tides were amiss. He turned wordlessly, continuing on a certain path.
"This is the way," he said confidently.
"You saw this in your vision?" She asked curiously, trying to keep his quick pace.
"You led me here. You took off your clothes and entered the cave right up there," he answered as if he was explaining what she had missed in class.
He pointed ahead to a small opening inside the jagged cliff. Her eyes fell upon it. Then she felt it. She almost doubled over in agony. This wasn't a cavern of crystals or a grave of prophecies — it was a graveyard of oracles themselves. A sacred place where the Fates placed the souls of seers. This was where their whispers originated. The anguish was unbearable, but she pressed on. The residue of their haunted cries, murdered as most seers had always ended, beating into her skin.
"I took off my clothes?" She asked in disbelief.
"Yes. You said that you have to be cleansed to see," he answered adamantly.
Dahlia whimpered in pain. She thought her mind might combust. Draco made no attempt to relieve her physical agony. He looked nervous to even be standing so close to her. She had never seen such a look on a man's face. It was as if Draco had died and faced the gods.
Dahlia was breathless by the time they approached the small cave, newly lightheaded. She couldn't believe they were actually doing this.
Indeed, Dahlia saw a pool of liquid crystals with heat rising above it as she entered. It was black, yet entirely clear. Shooting stars dashed across the reflection. This was where she would be cleansed. She felt it in her bones. This was her path — her becoming.
The whispers grew in number excitedly. The bones of her ancestors lay washed and sunken below the fragile, cosmic surface.
"What did I do after I took off my clothes? I want to get this right," she called to Draco, who lingered uncomfortably as he entered the cave.
He paused as a flash of pain crossed his features. "You dove into the pool and arose with a black crystal."
His throat bobbed. "Then you pushed it through your own heart. It transformed you into something…else."
"Into what, Draco? I have to know," she begged him to continue.
He dropped his gaze to the ground, grimacing. He appeared to be questioning everything he knew to be true. He looked at her with a newfound reverence, a sincerity.
It was something terrible, she realized.
"Into something…godly," he answered as he looked into her eyes with sorrow. "You showed me glimpses of my life — or different lives."
"Draco, I don't mean to upset you. You don't have to tell me what you saw. You don't even have to watch this..."
She nodded at him, promising that she could do this on her own. She would be brave for once. He rubbed his hand across his forehead in obvious distress. He walked away from the cavern, leaving her to step into her power alone.
Dahlia took a deep breath. She shook in terror as she undressed. She knew if she hesitated, she would talk herself out of doing this.
You must , she repeated.
She stood bare before the void and swallowed anxiously.
She thought of her mother for courage, then took an adamant step into the pool of stars. It pulled her to the center with a sharp yank on the map of time beneath her skin. She heard a thousand voices whisper to her. She circled recklessly in fear, kicking her feet, panic ensuing.
But it hushed her bones, all of her worries, and then she began to cry. She had never felt such belonging and comfort. The thousand whispers sang and welcomed her home. They promised her an empire. They were so proud of her. So proud she had found them.
She dunked her head beneath the water, letting her intuition guide her. She heard a million new voices as if time was happening all at once within the endless constellations that she swam through. She dived deeper into the refracting darkness, a void or portal of sorts, until something rubbed against her fingertips. She screamed as it burned her hand.
She bled in spite as she flinched back. The crystal didn't want her.
No, this was hers — it all was hers. She took hold of it, mortal skin burning, and retched the ghastly crystal from the earth. She clenched it like a lifeline.
The voices quickly hushed in astonishment. Her skin prickled as the eerie silence frightened her. She felt like prey, surrounded by dangerous waters. They were mad, and it dawned. She had stolen from them. She quickly realized just how freezing the water truly was. She panicked and kicked upwards. She swam swiftly, directionless, in the void as her lungs burned for air. She gasped, suddenly repelled and breaking through the surface of starlight.
Through blurred vision, she spotted Draco as she coughed and struggled. He had come back for her. A great relief fell over her panic. She reached for his hand, screaming his name. He helped pull her out of the void and onto the rough sand as the stars dripped from her bare skin. He had assumed he was unwelcome here, but they had called him back, desperate to save her.
He pulled her close, wrapping her freezing body in her own sweatshirt. He took off his sweatshirt and wrapped her bare legs, too. He rubbed her chilled skin, hoping to give her his warmth.
Dahlia didn't care that she was naked. She pulled her knees into her chest and huddled into herself. She was in complete torment. She had been heaved from the mystical depths, and the voices had gone all but silent. The soothing whispers abandoned her, just like her mother had. She wept as she clutched her wand with trembling hands. Draco slapped her wrist.
"Stop!" He cried.
She didn't hesitate. She was vengeful that the void of starlight, the souls of seers, her sisters, had rejected her. She placed the crystal on her knees, bent to her chest.
"Dahlia, pleas-" Draco cried behind her, gripping her wrist. She let him pry it from her fingers as she whispered, lips against the onyx stone. "Terra et astra, sanguis vitae, inanis temporis, firma meum spectaculum."
A blood-curdling scream erupted from her lungs as she doubled over in the sweetest misery. It was a euphoric come to power at the cost of white-hot, searing pain. It was as if she was being branded from the inside.
She begged for it to end. She was sorry. Begging for forgiveness for stealing from them. She clawed at her own skin, screaming out in torture as her veins broke.
The voices returned, encouraging her to push through it.
She couldn't. She couldn't do this. She was too weak. She was dying. This was going to kill her. She was terrified. A fool for thinking she could do this.
She cried and gasped, thinking she might have heard her mother in the whispers. A sweet echo calling her home.
"I'm here. I'm always here."
It was. Tears escaped from her eyes as she felt her mother's embrace. It was everything she hadn't known she needed. She let her strength fill her bones, grasping onto her own thin thread of life. It was an enchanting whisper, delivering everything she had hoped for in life.
But it mutated, transformed into gargled screams. Dahlia covered her ears and wailed. It was as if a thousand seers had their throats slit at once. Murdered, blindly and relentlessly. It was grotesque, and she whimpered in terror. An array of colors took hold of her vision, and she could no longer see at all. She was blinded by the bloodletting of time itself.
Draco pulled her back into his arms. He watched in horror as the stone infused itself into her skin. The ugly thing molted and slowly seeped within her pores. Her body felt too warm. She writhed in agony as if her bones were being broken and reforged. He muttered in shock. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Dahlia. I'm sorry."
When she screamed once more, tears of blood escaped her eyes.
He was going to puke. She was going to die. Draco's heart raced in horror. There was nothing he could do for her. Nothing at all. A new rage fueled him at the realization she had forced him to take her here, only to show him how much he could love her and then watch her die twice.
"You fucking monster," he roared furiously as he thought quickly.
Draco had never hated her more. He clenched her charmed necklace and tossed it in the sand. He hoped it would protect her from the horrid side effects of this dark magic as he snapped it around her neck. It glowed vibrantly, magic pumping into her veins, saving her.
In his white rage, he ignored the painful tightening of his own heart and the burning of his own skin. Words and symbols began to etch into her side. The inscription was forming just as he had dreamed it.
She settled a bit, and he nearly cried in relief.
"It's alright. The worst is over," he cooed as he held her tightly, cradling her in his arms. "I'm here," he whispered.
She eventually quieted. Draco kept waiting for her to appear before him as she did in his vision, but nothing happened. She went limp in his arms from exhaustion. He kissed the top of her head and mumbled in a trance.
"They're screaming…their wretched tongues…they won't stop, they won't stop..their throats… the wicked…please…why won't they stop."
She sobbed, quietly crying in terror as her mind floated somewhere in the ether where he couldn't reach her. He wasn't sure what fucking magic this was, but it terrified him.
He thought he must have been holding her for hours before she came back to him. He kept her close for each moment, afraid to even shift comfortably with her so fragile in his arms. He felt her finally move with life within his stiff hold.
"Dahlia," he whispered urgently.
She pulled away from him and began to sob, finally awake and coherent. She didn't seem to care for modesty, but he began to pull her sweatshirt over her head just in case.
"What happened? What did you see?" He asked fervently.
"My mother," she cried softly. "And her mother and so on," she mumbled in a daze as she dressed.
It was all so overwhelming. Her body felt foreign; her heart weighed.
"But you transformed…did you see them? You showed me infinite visions," he whispered. He was exasperated, making sense of it all himself.
"I showed you nothing, Draco!" She cried. "That wasn't me! It was a dream!"
She now understood his brokenness. She felt small, so worthless in this vast expanse. She was nothing. Weak. Cursed, now.
He fell silent, almost angry she was unappreciative of what he had just done for her — what he had endured too. He had held her for hours. Saved her life, but he said nothing.
"Please take me back," she choked, unable to comprehend what she had done.
They stared at each other, broken and certain their pieces belonged together but too terrified to admit that everything had changed. He was flush with anger. She had stolen from him, too.
He nodded. "Fine." He obeyed without a word more.
He peered out of the cavern. A storm gale blew his white hair wildly, but the sun was emerging. He reached for her hand, and she took it. The waves softened as if a need had been fulfilled. Their lives moved forward, twining themselves together.
—
Dahlia was silent for the ride back to the castle.
She couldn't believe she hadn't had a vision. They had blinded her instead, showing her the blackness and blurring of time. She had tried to see everything, but they had tricked her and left her in a blackened pit. Was she being punished? But they had welcomed her.
And worse, Draco had been the one the Fates had led to the cavern and graced with their visions of the most Divine Sight instead of her. How many men had slaughtered thousands for such a blessing? Yet he didn't even care for it. She had forced him out here against his will. He didn't deserve it.
She felt rejected by her own kind like she had been branded as a traitor instead of gifted with strength. She couldn't piece together why her senses had urged her to go into the pool in the first place. Her ability felt no different now. This had been an utter waste of time.
They stopped in the afternoon, about halfway through their journey. They needed water and to rest. Draco grabbed the canteen from the backpack and handed it to her as she sat down on a rock overlooking a smaller valley. The trees before them were a kaleidoscope of yellows and reds, the heart of Autumn. Beautiful, yet he couldn't help but stare at Dahlia instead.
Her blonde hair cascaded down from her bun as she fought away shivers, eyes rimmed in exhaustion upon her fading tanned skin, the last of summer leaving her entirely.
They hadn't spoken, and it was eating him inside out.
"I'm sorry about your mother. I know she passed," he spoke gently, hesitant.
He didn't know what to say. He could barely process what he had witnessed. He was running on adrenaline and newfound hope.
"I'm going to be fine. I'm just shaken," she answered, attempting to cut through the surface and get straight to his intentions.
He didn't pry, so she told him everything.
"I heard a thousand whispers when I went into the pool. It was like they were welcoming me home. I've never really felt like I belonged anywhere," she admitted. "But when I took in the crystal, the voices turned into screeches. They blinded me. I couldn't see anything at all. I only heard things. I heard my mother. She comforted me and held me in her arms while the spell was completed."
He nodded, grateful she had shared. He brushed her arm in comfort, and she leaned into him. They sat for a moment longer than needed as the sun began to set. He couldn't bring himself to tell her that it hadn't been her mother. He had been the one who had held her and whispered those words.
—
They arrived back at the castle well after dark. They landed, hidden in the trees, in front of the wooden bridge that connected a cliff to the south entrance of the castle. He didn't move, wanting to keep her in his arms for just a moment longer.
She placed her hand over his, and he cherished it until she pushed his hand aside so she could finally stand. She stretched as she faced him.
A heaviness filled the air as they understood just how much had changed between them since they were last here at the castle only days ago. He couldn't fathom how he was supposed to go on now like everything hadn't been altered. His whole perspective had been shifted.
He followed her as she walked towards the bridge.
"Dahlia, I-"
She glanced at him with a broken, numb look. He wanted to fix it — be a more permanent part of her life. Make himself fit somewhere in her skies.
"Dahlia..." He stammered, trying to find something to express how he felt.
He was interrupted by approaching footsteps. Someone was running towards them across the bridge.
No , he thought. They had come to take her away from him.
He saw Eloise Dawson carrying a blood-tracking map. Juliet Hart and Theo were behind her. His heart dropped. He desperately needed this moment alone with her. His soul had also been permanently remolded.
"Are you okay?" Juliet cried as she slammed her body into Dahlia and wrapped her arms around her neck.
"I'm fine," Dahlia answered, emotionless. She didn't move to embrace her back.
Juliet stepped away as Theo hastily approached her. She made no move to pull away from him as she stood with her hands at her side. He bent down in front of her, his eyes scanning her for any injuries. He ran his fingers across her cheeks. His face twisted in confusion. She furrowed her brows, heartbroken. Her lip quivered as she threatened to break. He stood taller as he wiped dirt off her temple.
"Oh, darling," he whispered, knowing by the horror in her eyes that she had just been through hell and returned to him.
Draco watched as Dahlia crumbled into his chest, asking him instead to fix her.
Theo stiffened as if this hadn't been what he expected to find. He quickly improvised, softening around the edges uncomfortably to be everything she needed.
"It's going to be fine," he whispered. He wrapped his arms tightly around her.
"I'm so sorry for what I said to you."
He kissed her forehead and tucked her safely under his chin as she sobbed uncontrollably. He glared at Draco, gliding a hand through her unruly hair.
Juliet approached and rubbed her back. Eloise stayed planted in place, carefully monitoring the situation.
She was the only one with any sense, Draco thought.
He had just run off and stolen Theo's girlfriend for days. No Nott took kindly to stealing.
"What happened, Dahlia?" Juliet asked quietly.
"They rejected me," Dahlia mumbled. "They cast me out. I tried to take it all, and they left me with nothing," she sneered, wondering if maybe they had taken all of her Sight in their fury.
Draco's own heart was breaking beneath a new shade of rage. It was unfamiliar, yet all the same. He reached for her, unknowingly, as her back was turned. To his surprise, she lifted her head from Theo's chest and came to him.
She took his hand with sincerity. "Thank you, Draco, for taking me. It means a lot."
She dropped his hand, and he stopped breathing momentarily. He watched as her friends huddled around her and led her back inside the castle as she cried.
Draco finally looked to Theo, a barbaric rage drenched in a ghastly smirk held true in his features. A line had finally been drawn, and there would be no reconciliation.