Theo patiently waited in front of the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower. The morning sunlight warmly radiated through the stained glass windows against his tanned skin. He leaned against the polished wooden railing opposite the eagle door. He was in no rush this morning as he had left his first block open for training. However, he noticed as he checked his watch that Dahlia would be late to class if she didn't make an appearance soon.
He was growing bored with solving riddles, and he grew tired of the frightened looks he received from first and second-year students. He found their stares to be quite judgmental — as if they had never cast a fire charm out of frustration. He never intended to harm anyone, but if it had worked and he had successfully blasted through this very door into the Ravenclaw common room to find Dahlia, then so be it.
He had written back to Dahlia early this morning. He had woken up to her distressed message. It was deeply concerning that she was having dreams about the Dark Lord. Theo hated that her abilities made her somewhat unpredictable. She dealt in things he didn't yet fully understand yet.
Plus, he could never fully read how she truly felt. Her body language often revealed far more than she shared. Dahlia hadn't verbally said she loved him back, but she had written it in the middle of the night. He wasn't sure yet how that tallied up against the odds in his heart. If it were up to him, he would devour all of her love whole and leave nothing to spare for the rest of the world.
A group of fifth-year girls sauntered out of the room, gasping over the fight between Pansy and Dahlia. He grinned as they stopped short, noticing his presence, then giggled as they proceeded down the staircase. Their voices echoed.
"I heard she kissed Draco," one of them announced.
"They look nice together," another whispered. They peered back up at him and waved. Theo scowled in return.
He rarely thought of anything beyond Dahlia and Draco anymore. His unease manifested into an envious beast that wished to hover over her at all times. He was almost certain Draco had always been mildly interested in Dahlia. It was his denial to obey his father's wishes, his refusal to get close to her that had fully confirmed his suspicions; it was a tell that Draco cared.
Theo had maintained peace of mind once they had started to interact more in classes, fighting constantly. They were opposites, such as the sun and moon, tolerating each other's orbit and canceling the other out. Draco seemed to have only been infatuated with the idea of her, or so Theo assumed. Then he had seen it, like a flip of a card. The card game in Hogsmeade had only given them an excuse to cross a line without consequences. Their hatred was a game to them.
If he thought too long about it, doubt started to creep under the hoods of his dark and clever eyes. They were inevitable, perfect for each other. The girls below were right, and everyone knew it. A tiny reminder smiled viciously from the back of his mind — they had been alone together. Slept by each other. It sent his jealousy ricocheting. It landed somewhere near irrationality and obsession.
What had they talked about? They had been willing to risk a chance of kissing in Hogsmeade. It couldn't be too far of a stretch that they had done something more — alone with no one around to hold them accountable. He spun his time-turner anxiously. No, he believed her when she told him nothing had happened. What else would he have if he didn't believe her? She was the best thing in his life.
The grumpy old bird sighed, annoyed he was still patiently waiting.
"What gets broken without being held?" The bronze eagle asked. It had grown tired of the persistent Slytherin student who was far more clever than cunning. If only someone, anyone would open their eyes to the truth.
"Hm," Theo spun the golden, time-turning ring around his finger. "A promise?" He guessed.
The door swung wide to reveal Dahlia as she bounced through the threshold. Her eyes lit like a fresh page, ready to wash away all his mistakes. As she bounced into his arms, all doubt of her love receded.
—
Dahlia was pleasantly surprised to see Theo waiting for her so promptly. She had woken up to his response in her journal. He would be waiting to see her before class, wanting to discuss this as soon as possible.
It was horrid to omit the truth about how she had ended up in the Room of Requirement with Draco last night but to tell him now would only distract from the answers she desperately needed, and lives could be at risk. They were still in a fragile place, and the truth would displease him. He may not even believe her that she hadn't purposefully sought Draco out.
She was desperate to keep things on the right track with him. The written omission of her love wasn't entirely false. Her heart answered to him, and she often daydreamed about their future — she couldn't see it with anyone else at this point. It felt like a secret within herself to love him. A war raged between her truth and the reality that her friends, and soon her father, disliked their relationship.
However, she could no longer deny to herself that there was something beneath the surface with Draco — feelings. She was hesitant to even call it that. This thing between them was ghastly and new. She could feel her body and soul gravitating towards him like the tides.
She wore her charmed necklace, hoping that it would dim those instincts after last night. Hopefully, her theory that the necklace limited her Sight and all things Divine was true. It had to be since she had left her neck bare before bed, then had sleep-walked to the Room of Requirement. She had also read the premonitions of the cabinet without it.
She couldn't understand why her gods would push her towards Draco. A spiteful creed manifested within her. Their impertinence to deny the boy who adored her so much. While the Fates might be weaving her heart with Draco's for their own agenda, Theo had actively won it despite the odds.
He revealed an unbreakable smile for her beneath the gilded light. She grinned in return as she gravitated to be near him. It was the kiss of stars between dusk and nightfall, greeting each other after a moment spent too long apart.
Dahlia adored nothing more than Theo dressed in anything but his uniform. He was wearing all black, and his long-sleeved shirt strained against his muscles as he crossed his arms. His curls were still damp from his morning shower. He gave her the most charming, boyish smile and opened his arms to receive her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he tilted her chin up to kiss her.
"You almost had me fooled into thinking that I had successfully gotten that ugly bird to open the door for me," he murmured slyly.
She softly laughed. "Good morning," she sang into his ear before kissing his cheek. She kissed his nose for good measure.
"Can we start all of our mornings like this?" He asked her innocently.
"I think we can definitely arrange something even better than this over the weekend," she bashfully whispered to him.
Theo's black heart bloomed as he remembered he would get her undivided attention for days on end. She would be spending the long weekend with him at his childhood home, his manor. That is, after he would spend the first evening at the Aldair Estate with her father. Somewhere deep beneath his calloused skin, he was nervous, but his desire to know absolutely everything about her surpassed his anxiety. Just one stressful evening, then he could wake up with her in his arms for the rest of the break.
"I would love to talk now, but I'm running behind. I have to make it to my morning class, which is all the way across the castle," she whined.
"Darling," he sighed. He lifted his eyes as if she was forgetting a critical detail. He held her more tightly in his arms, and Dahlia felt the world shift around them.
He apparated to the edge of a small outdoor courtyard near her classroom on the edge of a tall hill. Dark smoke dissipated into the morning air as he lazily stepped down and took a seat on a white-stone staircase. It led to a bridge overlooking the surrounding mountains in an array of autumnal colors.
Theo ran his hand through his mess of hair as the breeze danced in a happy welcome. It reminded him of a dog. It seemed to have a life force now that Dahlia had become a permanent fixture in his life. The sentient wind poked at him constantly. It irritated him to no end. The wind would often blow his papers out of his hands and gust playfully during quidditch matches. He saw Dahlia's gentle smile as he shushed it.
"It likes you," she said with a soft smile.
"It's not entirely mutual," he answered, returning her smile as if it was infectious.
She was infectious , he thought.
He fought the urge to light a cigarette. He wasn't chipper to have this conversation, but he resisted his desire as he wanted to be better for her. He sat still in anticipation, a rare feat.
"You should really learn how to apparate, love. It would help combat your persistent tardiness." He tilted his head back to watch her approach him, always needing her lesser whereabouts known.
"I can teach you soon." He sighed, then leaned back against the top of the stairs, taking in the impressive view. Fall had come all too soon. He had never wished for time to slow until now. An instinct told him she wasn't permanent — maybe it was that fucking nuisance, the wind, that was trying to warn him.
She took a seat on a stair next to him that allowed her to be at eye level. She was nervous, he noted. He brought his hand to her thigh to make her more comfortable. Physicality grounded them both. She sighed in weariness.
"So, I was speaking with Amelia the other night," she started.
He nodded, narrowing his eyes, suspicious of where this was going.
She continued, "And we think that the necklace you gave me possibly hinders my Sight." She masked her accusation in an inappropriate pleasantness.
Theo nearly snorted. She was an Aldair, through and through.
Dahlia watched as Theo wrinkled his eyebrows together curiously. If he was shocked, she couldn't tell. He reminded her of a sneaky cat, the way he carefully prowled through conversations.
Theo waited before he responded, curious if she had anything else to add.
Of course, he had considered the possibility of the necklace interfering with her Sight, but he had only assumed that could be possible if her Sight physically pained her or if her visions potentially led her into harm's way. Theo considered this a win/win from his perspective. When he gifted her the necklace, he didn't know that she wanted to go digging for rocks to maim her skin in order to obtain more power. How would he have known that? She never divulged her plans. He both respected and was deeply attracted to her ambition, but he valued her safety above all else, and the necklace seemed to provide it. He was in no rush to tell her his theory as she might reconsider wearing it altogether. It was karmic that he would fall for someone who was equally curious and attracted to trouble like himself.
He nodded once more for her to continue.
Dahlia sighed. "Before I cast the spell to amplify my Sight, I removed my necklace. However, it was put back on before I completed the ritual."
She was careful not to say Draco's name.
His jaw ticked, and his mouth tightened as Theo danced around the idea of Draco witnessing the spell casting. Her careful wording made him almost certain he had been there. What had it truly entailed? If they had rushed to place it back on her before the ritual was completed, it made him think that she had needed to be healed. He took a sharp breath — it should have been him.
His attention fell to her lips, unable to look her in the eye after the insinuation.
She continued, "I think that's why I assumed the spell didn't work. Last night, I took it off again before bed, and I saw both the past and future. I saw the Dark Lord speaking with Draco..."
Her voice wavered as she remembered his horrible face.
Theo moved closer to be more attentive to her emotions. She was visibly shaken by what she had come across. He had never seen the Dark Lord himself. A sick part of him was curious, but he refrained from asking.
Dahlia exhaled a shaky breath. "I know he has to fix this cabinet, and as a result, someone will be murdered. I'm assuming Professor Dumbledore."
She took a long pause as her throat went dry. "I know I can fix it, but I don't know what to do."
She shook her head, eyes piercing. " How much of this did you know? Has the Dark Lord asked something of you, as well?" She mumbled quietly.
There was a loving concern in her tone, and her expression was painted in sorrow as if she was on the cusp of heartbreak. Theo couldn't manage anything but the truth despite Dahlia's stiff body language hinting otherwise. She was tense. Was there something she wasn't telling him? Or was she just scared?
He brought a hand to her cheek, cupping her worried face. "Dahlia, the Dark Lord has asked nothing of me. If he had, I would bear his mark. I know of Draco's responsibility, but I have been resistant to help him. You know we've grown distant. I'm trying to stay as uninvolved as possible. I'm no longer staying at the manor when I'm not here at Hogwarts. You have to believe what you can see here — in reality. My actions have not misled you."
She seemed hesitant and a bit distrustful of his response. If he could, he would break into her mind and steal her thoughts. She was wearing his necklace now, though, so there must have been some part of her that still believed in the good of him.
"I'm being honest with you, Dahlia. I had decided to gift you the necklace before I even knew you were a seer. Did I consider afterward that it could possibly interfere with your visions? Yes, but not until after you were already gone. I've also been hesitant to bring it up. I know the topic upsets you…"
His voice carried off softly. Her eyes softened, and she leaned into his arms.
"I won't be upset if you want to give the necklace back. I can buy you new jewels, yeah?" He replied calmly, whispering into her hair blissfully.
Theo smiled through the lie. The thought of her not having a protective charm was unacceptable to him. There was no cost that was too high for her guaranteed safety.
She weakly smiled, continuing to crumble as she pulled farther from his touch. He felt silly for suggesting such a materialistic gesture when she was visibly distressed.
"I saw his face, and I heard him speak, Theo. I don't want you to think I'm ungrateful. I'm quite appreciative of having the necklace as an assurance that I won't have to look at the Dark Lord again."
To speak of the dark Lord seemed to physically pain her. He hadn't yet considered that she might be terrified of her own gift, of what she saw in her visions. She seemed so confident in the Astronomy Tower that night, divining his own life. He had only scratched the surface in his research of seers since she had made her confession. He would have to search harder. The notion of her own abilities causing her anxiety left him powerless. She was helplessly subjected to their will.
She leaned back into him as he wrapped an around her waist. He placed her legs over his. "You can have it forever if you wish," he whispered.
He tilted her chin to him, then kissed her gently. "I love you, Dahlia," he murmured into her ear. "You are safe," he told her confidently.
It was as if nature held a collective breath.
"I love you too," she murmured with sincerity.
His own world fell into harmony as a genuine smile reached his lips. Unlike nature, he exhaled with relief. He wrapped his arms around her more tightly, needing to keep her close.
"Shall I shower you with more gifts? Would that brighten your day? Make it better?" He grinned as he took off his watch and threw it into her lap. He removed his rings and threw them at her, as well. "You can have them all if it pleases you."
She threw her head back against his shoulder and laughed earnestly. She picked up the watch and quickly noted it was vintage and wildly expensive.
"Do you think I could pawn this for enough galleons to pay off Professor Slughorn to let me pass potions?"
He snatched it from her delicate fingers. "Alright, maybe you can't have that one."
He pushed her lightly out of his arms. "And get to class! You're always late! Even with my assistance."
He quickly kissed her forehead and then waved her off. She stood and straightened her skirt before making quick strides to class.
Theo skipped his training that morning, even though he knew his teammates would give him hell for it. He opted to sit on the stairs, looking out to the ruffle of changing leaves instead. His heart found new peace with the passage of time. Maybe it would soon bring her to the day when she would be in his bed every morning.
"Alright. Fine," he huffed with a flex of his hand. He submitted and let the wind lick his face as the morning rays drenched his skin. He felt more content than he had in months.
—
Friday rolled around, and with it came her much-dreaded tutoring session with no one other than the Chosen One himself, Harry Potter.
Why he had agreed to do this was beyond her understanding. They had been partnered together for a few assignments in a couple of classes, but she wouldn't consider them acquaintances. Even with Juliet pursuing him, she had chosen to steer clear of anything involving the Golden Trio.
She rushed into the Great Hall during the study period and saw him waiting for her. She smiled and waved as she headed over to grab a seat next to him.
"Hello, Harry! It's been quite a while," she remarked politely.
It had possibly been a full year since they had last interacted with each other. There was no ill will, just a lack of opportunity. Dahlia had always preferred to keep herself out of trouble until recently. She might have saved her appetite for this year as she let Theo's rough waves carry her away from safe shores.
"Yes! You're roommates with Juliet Hart, right?" Harry asked.
"I am! She has said nothing but kind things about you." She was buttering him up to get through this session as quickly as possible.
Juliet had been uncharacteristically quiet on the subject of him despite her spending more time with Gryffindor students. Dahlia didn't mind, even if she found herself lounging lazily near Slytherins more often than not. She wished her friend would confide more in her about it. Juliet seemed more uncomfortable than not with the knowledge that Draco bore the Dark Mark. Dahlia would be lying to herself if she didn't admit that it made her nervous she had shared such personal knowledge with someone who now spent days with his enemies. Draco would be murderous if he knew she had shared such secrets, but he had fallen back into his usual awful behavior as of late after their night in the Room of Requirement. He used 'fucking idiot' or 'waste of space' as her very own terms of endearment. Dahlia took it in fear he would spill every detail of their encounter to Theo before she could.
She saw the violence shimmer in Theo's whisky eyes as he watched them interact in class. He no longer tolerated the boys who shared smiles with her. He would ask them, with his own cruel grin, why they smiled at her. The new possessiveness made her vastly uncomfortable.
Harry looked somewhat nervous to be here with her now. Although, that could have just been his natural state.
"Likewise. So you want to dive in?" He asked in a cordial manner.
For fuck's sake.
"Yes! But Harry, just know that you don't have to tutor me. It's really alright. I don't want to be a bother," she replied sweetly.
This was quite a bother to her , Dahlia thought.
He raised a brow at her, picking up on the hint that she wasn't thrilled to be here. He leaned forward across the large wooden table. "Well, I'm actually trying to get into Slughorn's good graces. I thought accepting his request to tutor you might help."
She internally groaned but pretended to appreciate his honesty. This was her own personal hell. She shared a glowing, toothy smile. "Alright then! Let's do it."
He pulled out a rather beaten version of their potion's textbook. He looked at her as if contemplating if he was making the right call. With his finger tapping anxiously upon the textbook, he proceeded in a lowered voice. "If I were you, I would copy all of the notes in the margins. To be fair, I'm not that exceptional at potions either."
She narrowed her eyes, then opened the book and looked at him, dumbfounded. Her mouth fell open in shock as she flipped through the pages.
He didn't have to tell her twice — she began writing down the commentary listed in his textbook. She looked up to ask him a question but noticed Theo walking past the Great Hall.
She attempted to lower her head, but it was too late. His curious eyes had glanced into the hall. He slowed his strut as he made eye contact with her.
Dahlia scrunched her face, bracing for the worst.
The most devious grin slowly spread across his features as he realized she was sitting with Harry Potter. Dahlia anticipated him strolling into the hall if only to mock Harry for speaking with her. She hadn't told him about her required tutoring because she was embarrassed. Theo was incredibly smart, and she hadn't wanted to appear less than him.
He's going to murder Harry , Dahlia thought. He wouldn't even save proof for the Dark Lord.
But Theo did something worse. He beamed as if he thought this was prime hilarity, as if he found her circumstances extremely amusing to him. He gave her a little questioning nod to convey that they would definitely be discussing this later. Then, he continued on his way. She had been trying to hide her tutoring lessons from all of her friends, but especially Theo.
"Ugh," she exclaimed painfully, covering her face in humiliation.
Harry noticed her discomfort and who she had been glancing at.
"I've heard you two are dating?" Harry asked her, afraid to overstep.
"Yes, he is quite public with his affection, isn't he?" She replied with loaded sarcasm.
Theo had practically stamped to her forehead that she was his. His need for physical connection was overwhelming. He wanted to touch her everywhere and all the time.
Harry eyed her with a pause as if he might want to become close in a way alliances are built. "Dahlia, are you close with Malfoy too?" He asked suspiciously.
Her blood briefly ran cold. She jumped to the conclusion of where this was going. Juliet had made it known that Harry was suspicious of Draco. Dahlia was kind by nature, but only to the extent that she felt threatened. She was easily provoked to spew sweetened venom. Rest assured, she wasn't spilling any secrets five minutes into a tutoring session, or if at all.
He had misjudged her and read into the facade. Her eyes drifted down in pity — he should have known there was more beneath her surface since she was in love with Theodore Nott. Plus, there were the swirling rumors about her kissing Draco and the crimes of her own father. He probably thought she was naive and ignorant of how awful the men in her life could be.
"I wouldn't say that I am close to Draco. Theo is hardly friends with him anymore, honestly. They grew distant over the summer. Why would you assume I'm close with Draco?" Her tone was casual, nonchalant, although she wondered if she should not have used Draco's first name so easily. It rolled out of her mouth like a lyric.
She tried to at least clear Theo's name from Harry's list of concerns if at all possible. She would go to great lengths to keep the people she loved from harm, even if it meant lying.
"Well, it's rumored that Draco is quite fond of y-"
"By who?" She snorted. "I'm sorry, that just seems ridiculous," she answered. Her tone had accidentally been much more snide than she intended.
"Some people just say he…stares at you intently, and often? I know it sounds like a stretch when I say it out loud," he answered uncomfortably.
Harry seemed to have no insight into the inner dynamics between the Slytherins. Juliet was loyal to her, and it didn't seem she had betrayed her trust by sharing the drama within their circle of friends. He didn't even know of the swirling rumor that she had kissed Draco, resulting in the fight with Pansy. If Harry only knew the truth, that he had held her for hours on the brink of death, he might die of shock. Then the Dark Lord would have to give her a metal.
She strategized her next move. "If there is something you would like me to ask Draco or pass along to him, I can try?" Dahlia asked sweetly.
She had absolutely no interest in doing this favor for Harry, nor any interest in divulging secrets that could potentially put Theo or Draco under a microscope. She was hoping to dig deeper into Harry's intentions since he assumed she was closer to an ally than an enemy.
She could only imagine how Draco might react if she came flouncing over to him with a question from Harry. He would shriek her last name and strangle her for being so obliviously stupid. He would be so exasperated that he might pop an artery. If so, good riddance.
He peered at her for a long while, contemplating if she was trustworthy enough to share information. He sighed and finally whispered, "I think Malfoy is working directly for the Dark Lord. He's plotting something. I just know it."
Dahlia pulled away and gasped, feigning shock. No fucking shit , Dahlia thought.
His words settled, and the seriousness of the situation took hold. She didn't have to fake a frightened expression. She was dismayed that Harry was so close to unraveling Draco's secrets. She didn't want to get involved between the two of them, but she wondered if she should tell Theo or Draco that he had nearly figured it out.
On the other hand, she wasn't sure how she felt about Draco's willingness to complete the Dark Lord's task to begin with. She wondered if this was possibly a chance to save lives. If the Dark Lord's plan failed despite Draco succeeding in restoring the cabinet, could she possibly preserve his morality, too? Harry could step in at the last minute to save the day, per usual.
"If you could just keep an eye out for me and note anything suspicious, I would be grateful," he whispered.
"Yes, absolutely." She grinned as the sweetened lie left her traitorous mouth. "Thanks for tutoring me, Harry."
—
The smell of rain cradled Dahlia as her wet footsteps echoed through the dungeons. She breathed it in, allowing it to comfort her.
Xavier Grey was unusually perceptive. She realized this as he turned over his shoulder to shoot her a dazzling, knowing smile. He, too, loved the scent of the dungeons. He accompanied Dahlia along with Juliet and Eloise inside the Slytherin common room.
"After you," he said, voice like silk as he stepped aside to let her enter before him. He raked his eyes over as if wondering what all the fuss was about.
Eloise took his hand and disappeared into the dark and booming atmosphere. When Dahlia's eyes adjusted, she noticed Theo leaning against a large column. He was smoking again — not that she minded — and talking to a group of Hufflepuffs she didn't entirely recognize.
As if he sensed her very heartbeat, he glanced over in her direction. He coaxed her over to him with a silky smirk of his own. She swayed over, craving his presence.
He reached for her, grabbing her by the waist and bringing her into his broad chest. He tucked her hair behind her ear and chuckled low. "You look like my devastation. How could I possibly resist you all night," he murmured, tracing a hand across her waist.
She had worn a black dress with both a low black and a plunging front. The straps were embellished and complimented the necklace she wore from him. She had, in fact, dressed to both devastate and tame her unruly boyfriend.
"Good things come to those who are patient. Will be alone soon enough," she teased as to remind him that they had all weekend to spend in each other's arms.
"But I only want bad things, and I'm rather impatient," he answered smoothly, hand caressing up her inner thigh. She heated at his words, pulse thrumming. He held his mouth open above hers. The darkness turned him into a different shade of monstrous.
Someone called his name from a distance. She leaned in to kiss him anyway. He returned her affection for a brief moment, delighted she hadn't been able to resist, but pulled away all too soon.
"I'll be right back. I have to go talk to someone for a moment."
He kissed the palm of her hand and gave her his drink. "It's top-shelf. Be careful, and don't overdrink, love," he warned her.
He kissed her forehead and approached an unknown Hufflepuff girl and a Gryffindor she recognized who was in his seventh year. He was apparently exceptional at Herbology. What Theo wanted with him was a mystery to her.
She shrugged and walked away as she took a giant gulp of Theo's beverage, foregoing all warnings. She felt the sweet burn bloom in her stomach as she vanished deeper into the party. The eyes of Theo's own teammates widened as she strolled through the crowd. She had really only worn this dress for Theo to rip it off her. She took another large sip as a few of their hands reached for her.
Bodies swayed, and the scent of liquor was thick in the haze. She could feel the pulse of the music. She soon found Amelia lounging on a chaise with Blaise. He had his arm slung around her as he murmured into her ear. Dahlia didn't interrupt them as they looked happy alone.
They no longer seemed to be fighting nearly as much as the secrets between them dissipated. Dahlia liked Blaise more than any other Slytherin boy, including Theo or Draco. He was properly grounded and sensible. She found herself openly mumbling about all sorts of things with him while she sat at dinner or below the swaying trees between classes, taking in the last of the pleasant weather.
She was quite excited to spend her extended weekend with them. Everyone but Draco would be attending. He had mentioned to Amelia that he was too busy, saving her and Theo from the awkwardness of not inviting him in the first place.
As time passed, she found herself exploring more of the party. She also found the bottom of more glasses as she buzzed to life. She sat at tables, betting away Theo's money as he roamed somewhere without her. She would cost him a small fortune when she was done, knowing none of the rules as their friends nearly robbed him for having the nerve to leave her unsupervised. Theo always had to be the life of these parties, flurrying around and drinking too much, but Dahlia didn't mind. He would return to her eventually. She played truth or dare in a quieter corner, laughing loudly as she kissed the cheek of a nervous boy who was attending his first party. She chain-smoked with Ian Vasey, Theo's best friend on the quidditch team, as he spun her around on the dancefloor innocently.
She finally pushed her way up the gargantuan, white-stone staircase adorned with gilded serpent railings. She strolled down the long landing, past several dancing bodies, until she hit a dead end — an alcove that featured preserved knick-knacks like a museum might. The landing was far too packed for anything to be appreciated. A fellow Ravenclaw girl from her history class pulled her close to the railing to dance. Dahlia gasped in delight even though she couldn't remember her last name.
"Dahlia! You look amazing! Cheers!" She snaked her arm around Dahlia's own and swallowed her drink whole. Dahlia threw back the rest of her fourth glass and laughed with her.
The beautiful girl she couldn't quite remember raised an eyebrow in question, then placed her manicured thumb on her chin to open her mouth. Dahlia allowed it with a delicious thrill. The fellow Ravenclaw placed something sweet on her tongue. Dahlia closed her mouth, grazing her finger, then pulled the girl closer to dance. The ground spun, and her skin prickled in delight as they moved. She whispered sweet secrets into the girl's ear — how the universe might spin for her one day.
An eternity passed when she sensed a tall figure approach from behind. He pressed his front against her like a phantom. Strong hands traced her hip, and she leaned back into him. She wondered if Theo had finally found her. She danced against him, wanting him to touch all of her skin.
"Keep your eyes closed," he murmured, pressing his lips against her ear.
The touch of skin and it snapped into place, dominoes falling.
A heart stutter — a timeline finding its singularity. The last of her lungs exhaled. Dahlia knew whose chest she was pressed against, whose hand lay flat against her lower stomach. She could have sensed him falling into sync with her through all of time.
A thrill traced through her entire being, soul and all. Was she just drunk, or had she not realized how desperate she had been for him to touch her like this? Just once.
Head down and her eyes closed, he slowly pulled her deeper into the hidden alcove. It was an out-of-body experience. It should've been wrong, but her instincts guided her. The liquor strengthened her foresight. This was the only path. She knew that now as she vibrated on this plane in the ether, fully intoxicated and closer to it than ever. He turned her around to face him, then pushed her back into the wall of the black, deserted paradise.
"Can I open my eyes?" She mumbled playfully.
"No," he whispered.
He grazed his fingertips down her cheek. She exhaled shakily as if she were prey, finally facing its hunter. She had put up a good fight against the inescapable. He was so close to her. The heat radiating from his body was only a touch away. His hand left her. The pause lasted too long, and she was terrified if she opened his eyes, he might have disappeared.
His fingertip traced her bare back, hesitating. He curled his hands around the thin fabric at her hip, waiting. Waiting for something to save him.
He couldn't do it, she thought.
In the split of a second, he took her. He pulled her to him as if he had finally decided to grasp something sacred — something he wasn't meant to touch, not because it wasn't his, but because he feared the consequences. He placed a hand on the back of her upper thigh. She felt his warm fingers dig into her skin.
Whiplash — he quickly shoved her against the wall, then found her body with his own. He left no space between them as their breaths intertwined, mouths not daring to touch.
Two destined stars collided. Her bones shook with realization. She could feel him breathing unevenly. He felt this premonition, too, she realized. He felt this unbreakable pull. She kept her eyes closed. She didn't want to see anything anymore.
He placed two fingers inside her mouth, tilting her head up to expose her neck. He couldn't resist touching her mouth. Her fucking lips. He kissed her gently on her collarbone so as to not leave any trace that he had been there at all.
Dahlia sucked on his fingers. He groaned against her neck. The sound alone, the inviting notion that she pleased him, had her thoughts fumbling and beliefs turning. She gripped his face, pulling him away from her neck. She leaned in to finally kiss him, end this torture. He pulled back, fighting her.
She opened her eyes. The shadows were too dark to see any expression. The pulsing light only briefly illuminated his glowing hair. He viciously spun her to face the wall as if he didn't want anything sweet from her. He pressed himself against her back, trapping her between his legs. He ran his hands up her sides slowly as if he had been granted permission to touch a coveted, priceless item, and he chose to do so carelessly.
He kissed her neck and down her exposed back as he knelt. He licked up her exposed spine as he stood, and she closed her eyes, shuttering.
He felt her tremble. His arms snaked around her thighs. He gripped so tightly she felt the scrape of his nails just below her center, fingers grazing the evidence of just how much she wanted him. His lips turned upwards in a smirk against the slick skin of her neck. She indulged him for a minute as he roamed her body with his mouth, but she grew impatient with this game. She stood taller, then leaned her head against his shoulder, kissing his jawline.
He gripped her face and forced her to look straight ahead.
Her lust turned over angrily and forged resentment. She was done with this charade. She wouldn't be intimate with him in this manner, or if at all. If he could cradle her back to life, he could face her while he tried to fuck her — especially after how they had left things.
Draco sensed her go still, shrinking into herself beneath his touch. She closed her legs and crossed her arms. He removed his weight from her and waited patiently. He didn't want to be the first to speak if they must come to a horrible conversation.
Dahlia felt him inhale like he might finally find words, but she didn't want them. She turned and shoved him off of her.
"Don't waste my time, and don't touch me again," she spat.
There were too many dominoes that would fall. Too much to risk, and for what? Draco couldn't even properly acknowledge any type of emotion that wasn't contempt. He wasn't equipped to own her heart.
She shoved harshly once more, only because it felt good. "I hate you," she slurred.
Dahlia disappeared into the party, disappointed he would wreck her like this.
A hot iron of rejection burned through Draco. Was he not what she wanted? Or was he not enough for her?
He left the party, exiting the Slytherin common room entirely in a fury. He seethed at the thought that she hadn't ignored him out of fear of what he was capable of but instead, because she had chosen Theo each and every night over him. Had he misread her signals? If he could feel this invisible tether pull between them, then he could only imagine how strongly she felt it, too. It was an awful responsibility gifted from the higher powers. He could sense her always. He craved her company. It filled him with so much hatred that she had done this to him. It bordered on a sick love.
Did she want him to love her gently? Because he would never be capable of that. Draco fell deeper into his insecurity as he slammed the door of his dormitory wide open. The contrast between the waking and dreaming world was too great for him to reconcile. She infiltrated his dreams every night and showed him a blissful future.
Did she not want that with him? Was she that cruel that she would haunt him so casually? He would spin her across his ballroom one night and tangle her up in sheets the next. But come morning, he would wake and watch her whisper sweet and dirty things into another's ear like she hadn't dreamt of him at all. He couldn't take it anymore. He paced and then threw a book into the mirror. It crashed onto the floor.
He hated her, and he thought he might fucking love her.
—
Dahlia was panicked to find Theo, uncertain if she felt overcome with guilt or if she was finally and completely sure she had made the right choice. Her dreams had wandered to Draco every night this week. His grey eyes had become familiar, but his defiance in the alcove had been her clarity. He hadn't even wanted her to look at him.
It wouldn't do.
She spotted Theo as she pushed past bodies, racing down the massive staircase in the center of the common room. He was playing a round of poker with his friends. She must have looked distressed as he raised an eyebrow at her from across the room. She motioned urgently for him to come to her.
He gave a clever reason to excuse himself and volunteered his seat up to a fellow Slytherin. He strode over to her and cupped her face.
"What's wrong?" He asked strongly, a trace of venom in his tone.
She said nothing as she grabbed his hand and led him back up the serpentine staircase. She sensed his uncertainty, but he followed. He trailed after her all the way back to the small alcove, wearing a questioning grin.
She was about to combust. She leaned her back against the same wall she had just been pinned against minutes ago. She brought his body to hers with a harsh pull on his black shirt. He stumbled forward.
"Fuck me," she demanded.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, scratching into his skin. He mentally buffered at her request as if this had been the last thing he expected at the moment. She thought he might not have understood until a bewildered grin began to spread across his face.
"Now," she ordered.
He quickly tossed his crystal glass of whisky over his shoulder as his eyes darkened. The glass smashed into pieces against the opposite wall. Her stomach twirled as he finally pressed himself against her.
He smirked. Her impatient need fueled his arrogance. He pushed her dress up to her waist with rough hands. Theo seductively leaned over her and cupped just beneath her ass. He groaned, and a feral grin crossed his face. He lifted her up against the wall. She wrapped her legs around his waist, complying only for him.
"Darling…"
He murmured as he discovered that she wasn't wearing underwear and she was already slick for him. He raised a brow, but he didn't fully question it. Why would he?
He wasted no time at all. He tried to bring his lips to her mouth as he thrust into her, inhaling sharply and grinding his jaw at the sensation of her around him. She gripped his face to keep his forehead against hers, refusing his kiss. She forced him to look into her eyes.
It was desperate. Terrified.
He nodded, understanding that this intimacy was what she needed — proof that he would do anything she asked and never leave her. He caught her breath eagerly through parted lips as he stared into the green forest of galaxies within her eyes. He was patient and unquestioning as he proved to her that he could be everything she needed. He slammed against her, promising the world with his eyes, until they both found their release.
Dahlia had never been more grateful.
"I fucking love you. I would die for you," she breathed the promise into his mouth, finally kissing him, nearly sobbing.
Theo thought she tasted like a nightmare spun of tequila and glitter. He realized she was both drunk and high, and the night had gotten the better of her. He should have come back for her sooner.
"I don't care what the Fates say. It's you and me," she whispered to herself through heavy breaths. She declared it like a desperate prayer, resting her head in the hollow of his neck.
He paused in pain as he thought he might have just felt his heart physically crack.
Then he kissed her again, harder. He would steal her from them. From everyone. They had never deserved her.
Who needed the Fates when he could control time himself?
—
At the same moment, Theo stood in the darker corner of the alcove as he watched the way Dahlia moved against him. He spun his time-turner lazily around his finger. He had suspected she was hiding something since he had noted her body language when she had confessed to dreaming of the Dark Lord. He had written it off as fear, until tonight.
Her impulsive words had a trigger. He knew it. She had learned something critical to the puzzle that she hadn't shared with him.
He hadn't wanted to do this. He wanted to be better for her, but he needed to know her ugly truths. He spun upon a smaller golden band that was interwoven into the ring and flipped through the pages of time until he found her in the Room of Requirement, then the bluffs, and finally, back within the same dark alcove with someone else entirely.
He spun his ring once more, then took her hand as if he hadn't just betrayed her trust and led her back to the party. What she had hidden was just as awful as his actions — abandoning her first, breaking her faith in him.
He finally accepted her for what she was, and he vowed to love her anyway.
He had already fallen off the ledge, and to accept heartbreak might forever leave him in a free fall instead — it might wreck him entirely.
He realized now they were both frauds cheating at the game of love and time. Dahlia squeezed his hand, once for love and again in a promise to follow him anywhere despite the odds. She was a sweet liar, but he hoped she would lie to him the least. He was a master manipulator, after all, but he would try to keep his word.
He turned and gave her a wolfish grin as he pulled her along, his divine crook, through the thick shadows. She returned a heart-sworn smile like she would con them all just for him.