A cloud danced across the moon, plunging the ancient Wolfwood forest that surrounded the Nott Manor into darkness.
Theo jerked, struck with shock as nature cried out. For the first time in a hundred years, a howl tore through the night from the wood. The hair on his skin answered, rising in fear. He bolted towards Dahlia.
"No, no, no," she whimpered as Theo approached.
He reached for her as she sat cradled between Juliet and Amelia. She cringed back from his touch, leaning farther into Juliet's arm. Theo's stomach sank like a ship abandoned. Juliet glared, protective in nature, as she tucked Dahlia further into the safety of her arms. He saw a true terror in Dahlia's eyes — of him. Hopeless despair ate at the fray of his rationality as he shook his head, stumbling to find the solution.
He stuttered, mouth open. It was a rare moment where he was at a loss for words.
Eloise approached him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, carefully navigating the situation, unclear of how Theo might handle such rejection after such a hellish dinner party. She understood how desperately he loved her and how this might break him. She often overlooked his flaws, like Dahlia, knowing her own choice of partner wasn't any better.
"Theo, I think she's in shock. We should get her inside..."
Eloise's voice cracked the night open. His shoulders relented to the despair, falling low. She hugged him tightly around his arms since no one else would. She sensed Xavier stepping close in careful silence, ready to act if Theo shoved her away.
But he didn't — Theo only placed his hand over hers on his chest and squeezed, chest caving, in a rare moment of accepting sympathy. His rings uncomfortably pressed against her skin. It was such a vulnerable display from him that she allowed it, even though it was painful.
"She's going to be alright," Eloise murmured into the back of his shoulder. She repeated until he finally nodded, believing her fully.
Eloise turned her head and motioned for Xavier to come forward once she had successfully diffused the situation. Amelia and Juliet slowly brought Dahlia to her feet. Her eyes fluttered as the world shifted and spun. Juliet caught her as she almost fell to her knees.
"I don't want to vomit. Oh gods, I'm going to vomit," Dahlia grumbled as an icy sweat broke across the back of her neck. A wave of nausea slicked her mouth. She couldn't bring herself to breathe evenly. Her ears rang with a call that was unfamiliar. All she wanted was to sleep on the cold ground and never move again.
Unfortunately, her wishes wouldn't be met. Xavier picked her up in one quick, swooping motion. He carefully cradled her in his arms. Worried Theo or Draco would intervene, Xavier immediately headed towards the manor with Eloise at his side. She attempted to wipe the sweat from Dahlia's forehead as they cut through the patches of wildflowers between the forest and the manor.
Dahlia shifted with dull life in his arms.
"I fear I may have given you too much wine," Xavier whispered, attempting to make light of the grim situation. Dahlia didn't respond, but Xavier noted a sly smile spread across her face.
Dahlia observed how the black waves of his hair shone blue in the cascading moonlight as he carried her into the manor. He peered down, sensing her stare. There was a cold allure that curled her stomach. She suddenly wished to be unheld, yet she remained still.
Warmness enveloped her as they entered the home through tall French doors located on the side of the west wing. He trekked down the endless hallway, then slugged her up the grand staircase.
Dahlia noticed the dust upon the magnificent chandeliers as she gazed upwards.
"Do you think this place is haunted?" She mumbled deliriously.
He shrugged casually. "Aren't all homes haunted in some ways?" Xavier grinned down at her. He knew this manor homed no ghosts, just haunted men.
Out of breath from the ridiculous amount of stairs, he finally delivered her to Theo's quarters.
Dahlia fussed as she breathed in the familiar air of Theo's scent. Her vision resurfaced in blinding flashes. Her head began to ache with sharp pains as her Sight sunk itself into her mind like venomous fangs. She dry heaved, trying not to vomit.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck," Xavier muttered, gagging himself as he rushed to put her down on the bathroom floor in hopes the tile might cool off her burning skin.
"What can I do, El?" He asked, trying to remain calm. He didn't know how to heal things that weren't blood wounds or broken bones.
Eloise ripped through the bathroom to find towels. She finally found them within the cabinets of the monstrous wooden vanity. She grabbed an armfull in a panic. She turned around and immediately dropped them — Dahlia shook as she crawled across the tile, sweating profusely.
Xavier held his hands up, afraid to touch her. Eloise swiftly ran over to catch Dahlia's hair as she emptied her dinner into the toilet.
"Oh, gods," Xavier heaved and turned a shade paler. "I can't, El. I can do a lot of gory things, crushed bones and ripped fingernails, but not this." He covered his mouth as Dahlia's bowled cries sent him into the stratosphere.
"It's alright. Go. Try to keep them out," Eloise sighed as she held Dahlia's hair.
She was concerned over Theo and possibly Draco, although he had more sense to fuck off. Xavier nodded in response and closed both the bathroom and bedroom doors as he exited Theo's bedroom.
No sooner had a knock on the door come.
"Stay out!" Eloise yelled ferociously.
She heard the door slam open as Amelia barged in. Juliet was with her, as well. They came to a halt as they assessed the situation. Their eyes widened as they shared frightened looks.
"She's burning up," Eloise exclaimed, shaking her head. Juliet swiftly moved to start a cool shower, not knowing what else to do.
"What's happening to me?" Dahlia cried, even though she knew no one had answers. Her skin was on fire, as if her nerves were being reborn. The map of premonitions beneath her skin was short-circuiting as she finally came alight from her first vision.
"I'm going to find a potion for her," Amelia announced with worry. Her own eyesight was blurring with the shock of it all. How many times had they worried about this exact scenario playing out? She had always known Dahlia was different, a thing of myths. To see her power wielded, to see how it hurt her, was a sucker punch.
Amelia walked out with widened eyes. She heard nothing but the soft clack of her shoes against the polished floors. It was too quiet here. She halted, pausing to compose herself as she covered her mouth. She begged her mind to understand. Move faster.
What was she doing?
She quickly bolted down the hall and into a large sitting room lined with books and fitted with leather chairs and sofas. Flames roared in a fireplace carved from jade as the rest of the group gathered around, processing what they had just witnessed in the woods.
Theo's head shot up when he heard Amelia's footsteps. "Is she alright?" He asked somberly. His expression was ripe with concern.
Amelia stuttered on a response. She had no earthly clue if she would be okay. Blaise was quick to observe her unsettled expression. She was in shock herself, he realized. He brought her to his chest, shaken. It was unusual for her to be so forthcoming; her emotions displayed on her face in front of such a crowd.
With Blaise at her side, kissing her temple, she found clarity. "She will be, I think. She needs something to settle her stomach and maybe something for exhaustion. I don't know." Her voice broke. "I know nothing about this. I don't know what to do," she admitted, flustered.
Theo ran his hands through his curls and sighed.
"Let me see what I can find." He took off down the hall, disheveled and determined.
"Is anyone going to explain what the fuck just happened?"
Everyone turned to glance at Pansy. She stood rapidly. "Draco, what did you do to her?" Her voice shook, visibly troubled. It was a horror to find Draco alone and armed with his wand as Dahlia floated in the air in the middle of the woods as if she had been possessed or possibly cursed.
Draco didn't deign to respond. He knew how it looked, but he held onto the truth with an iron grip.
Pansy's voice grated as he held his focus to the fire. He rubbed his fingertips against his temples, reflecting down to the detail of her hair strands, trying to calculate the moment things soured. He wondered if she hadn't felt well all day or if their kiss had been the trigger.
"She's obviously a seer. Don't you pay attention in class, Pansy?" Daphne scoffed.
"I've never seen Professor Trelawney do something like that," Lucas added.
He shook his head, bewildered. He found divination to be a joke, yet he was questioning his very reality. It had been far too striking to see firsthand nature in the act of creation. He was often so bored by Professor Trelawney that he considered her class to be his napping hour.
"I don't think she's the kind that's reading cups of tea, mate. She looked practically mythical," Xavier responded as he strolled across the room, serious for once.
Pansy sat on the arm of the leather sofa as she opened her mouth to reply.
Draco cut through the pointless chatter. "Amelia, was she wearing her necklace today? Do you remember?"
Draco's grey eyes bore into her, a squall brewing.
Xavier poured them all scotch from a collection of dusty crystal bottles in the corner. He gagged when he sniffed it. "Fucking hell," he muttered. "That old bat would drink fucking anything."
"I don't think so," Amelia answered, rubbing her palms together. She wasn't entirely sure. The more she thought about it, the more she realized she couldn't have been wearing it. It would have possibly protected her from something like this occurring — or so she had assumed. But could Dahlia's abilities even be subdued at this point? Her Sight seemed to run through her veins as its own life force.
Draco hung his head.
"What did she see, you think?" Pansy asked curiously, perched casually.
There was an uncomfortable pause as if Dahlia's own soul might haunt them all for gossiping so openly about her.
"Her death," Amelia answered coldly as she glared at Draco. "A seer's first true prophecy is of her own death."
Draco's eyes met her own, calculating something new as his forehead creased.
Dahlia had been petrified at the sight of Draco and Theo after her vision. She had insinuated that she would eventually be handed over to the Dark Lord. Her throat ached with a sob at the thought of that happening to her best friend.
Amelia wondered if she had done this to her. If Draco had been the catalyst for her vision, then it was her fault for inviting him here in the first place. She had just wanted them to all get along again, and she knew how Draco pined over Dahlia. She had wanted to give him the chance to prove himself. He had been so miserable lately...
A senseless blame took hold as if she couldn't bear the fault being her own. She strode over to Draco, vengeance running high. She towered before him as he remained lazily seated, slumped, and legs spread wide. She leaned close to his face and grabbed his throat, sinking her nails into his skin.
"Did you cause this?" She spat at him.
Draco's eyes met hers without change, unphased by her violence.
It was a shock to see agony upon his cruel face.
"I don't know," he answered sharply. Defeated and churning with dread.
"What were you doing out there with her?" She hissed angrily.
She refused to let up. He had been the last person to see her.
He didn't give an answer, which only pushed her further. She shoved his shoulder.
"How could you do this?" She yelled. "I think it's awfully ironic that you followed her out there or supposedly found her so quickly."
She continued to accuse and berate him in front of everyone. Blaise didn't dare to intervene, not wanting to add fuel to her fire.
She pushed him again, and his own rage finally flared. He came to full height in a flash, pushed beyond limits. He towered over Amelia now with his chest against hers. She nearly stumbled back, but she held her own. "What did you do to her? How did you find her, Draco? Hm?"
He saw black as she had said aloud all the questions he brutalized his own self with. He shook, bottling in his hate for the circumstances — the world. He combusted.
"I would fucking find her anywhere!" He boomed in frustration.
He ripped up the sleeve of his right forearm to reveal a singular glyph that had been branded into his own skin. It was in the same swooping shape as the marking across Dahlia's own.
Amelia was speechless. She stepped back, but Draco stepped forward. He wouldn't allow her to push him and then cower away. He shoved his forearm into her face so she could get a good glimpse of the star-shaped ink he was so ashamed of.
"She might as well have a fucking noose tied around my neck," he spat. "If only to drag me around," he chuckled, doomed.
Theo entered the room holding a few small bottles, well ignoring the tension and rippling confusion. Draco sat back in his chair and pulled his sleeve back down, satisfied with the bamboozled expression Amelia now wore.
"I'm going to bring these to her," Theo mumbled as he walked swiftly through the room.
"No!" They collectively groaned.
Amelia took the potions from Theo's hands, shoving him back. Her heart raced as she stormed back to his bedroom, desperately attempting to connect the ties.
Upon entering, she discovered Juliet and Eloise had successfully gotten Dahlia showered and tucked into bed. Amelia sat down on the plush duvet and handed over the potions.
"This should help you," she sighed soothingly to Dahlia.
"Thank you," Dahlia rasped.
"Oh, looks who's talking and lucid!" Amelia replied, masking her distress.
Dahlia smiled weakly in response. She picked up her necklace from the nightstand and clasped it around her neck, hoping it would help her recover.
They all shifted on the bed, breathing easy after a wrecking. They were emotionally spent yet vulnerable with the bareness that only came from softening adrenaline.
"I'm sorry if I've been putting stress on you," Juliet whispered as she looked up at Dahlia with contrite eyes. "I'll be kinder to him. I promise."
"I know Theo and I have been moving fast. It's hard to pump the breaks with him. I'm sorry, too, if I've been distant. I want to tell you everything. I just..."
She pressed her lips together.
"...I don't always know how," she finished as her voice broke.
She had struggled to open up like this since her mother had passed. The world had moved on while she remained frozen in a singular moment, collecting cobwebs. People stopped asking, so she stopped revealing. She often wondered if even the moon had grown tired of hearing her stagnant thoughts. Dahlia would pour her every thought and heart out to her mother, but she was gone now, and she had taken her light with her. It would be traitorous to move on, to find comfort in others. The exhaustion of keeping her emotions to herself was easier to tolerate than the exhaustion that came with learning to find happiness. It was an isolating, grim place she had fallen into.
"Regardless, it was unwise to invite Draco. I'm sorry," Amelia muttered, grabbing Dahlia's hand and squeezing tightly.
Dahlia sunk farther into the covers and laughed ironically as she rubbed her eyes. The fear she had experienced over losing her life within her vision made her feel as if nothing really mattered. No secret was important enough to keep.
"It's not funny, I know that, but I kissed Draco in the woods," she groaned.
"It felt like a necessary step towards something. It was, honestly..."
She couldn't bring herself to say it out loud — how much she had enjoyed it. She didn't have to, though. It was written across her sad grin.
She shook her head. "But then I had the vision. Theo was in it, acting despicable. I know I shouldn't be surprised... but Draco, what he did was so much worse. I can't let that happen to me," she whispered.
Amelia squeezed her hand once more.
"We're going to find answers," Eloise declared as a cold promise.
—
Dahlia tossed in the vast sea of sheets that were all too cold. The hush of night only brought forth his absence. The smell of his pillow was too enchanting to resist.
She imagined herself standing upon the creaking dock again, too afraid to jump into the clouded blue depths beneath the beating sun of summer. Amelia had taunted her, swimming farther out into the unknown to give chase. Dahlia shifted, hating herself for her innate fear. They were just children, but Amelia had been born brave — unlike her. Dahlia squatted down, reached her small hand into the blind waters, and scrunched her face. It was far too cold as it fell through her fingers. She had then felt the warmth of a hand tugging lovingly on her braids. She turned, eyes meeting Amelia's mother as she sat sunbathing on the dock, as well.
"You can always be bold tomorrow, my love," she had sighed.
The words were written across her sky now as she stared at the vaulted ceiling. It was the fear of getting pulled beneath the surface by a beast, the chill that might have leaked into her bones, that kept her paralyzed on that dock.
"Juliet?" She called quietly.
She grumbled, half asleep with a book in her lap from a chair by the bed. Juliet had stayed behind, worried she might have another vision.
Dahlia shifted in the sheets to face her. "Will you get Theo? I can't sleep."
"Dahlia..." Juliet sighed. Her face crumpled in the light of night.
"I'm sorry," Dahlia mumbled, throat constricting. Her tone was all the same as when she called out to Amelia from the dock, refusing to jump in. It wasn't what she had wanted to choose, but the need for security, a familiarity, had always kept her from taking risks.
Dahlia knew the disappointment on Juliet's face all too well. She felt it herself.
"Alright," Juliet muttered with a heavy sigh. She stood and quietly left.
"I can be bold tomorrow," she whispered to herself, alone in the darkness.
Dahlia wondered if someday it would be true.
—
Amelia sat in front of the fireplace, livening and smothering the flames with her magic as her mind drifted, lost in the past. She had been stupid to think that things would ever be the same. Their friendships would never be as pure as they once were. They were growing up, the future pulling her by the nape of her neck, kicking and screaming before she was ready. She had blinked, then wondered where the days had gone. They were all hurtling towards such an unforgiving future.
Blaise squatted down and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug.
She knew everything as a child but nothing now. She almost yearned to remember a time before falling in love felt inevitable. They were children, invincible, holding their own hearts. They ran bravely into the darkest forests and skipped through the same halls as dark wizards, unafraid of death. Surely, because they were unable to understand the gravity of loss, and that darkness wasn't rare. But that was love's gift — a fear of losing someone entirely. Death was made real, which led to discovering the darkness within one's own self and questioning how far one might go to keep the person they love safe.
She rubbed her face in exhaustion.
"You want to go to sleep, my love?" He asked her.
She nodded, and he took her hand.
Amelia knew his gentleness was a byproduct of his comfortability in being damned. Blaise knew who he was and embraced all facets of himself. He slept well a night, knowing he would snap necks for her love, but he didn't let that define him.
She fell beneath his arm as she had hundreds of times. They said their goodnights and left, leaving the room for worse.
Draco was seated in a chair carved from the Wolfwood itself and patched with brown leathers. He stared into the gentle flames.
Theo fiddled with his rings as he lay on his back, feet crossed upon the matching couch. The flames danced across the various book spines, almost pleading to burn this cursed home to the ground.
It was a comfortable quietness as neither were able to sleep. The terrible knowledge of what Dahlia had possibly seen kept them both wired awake.
For a moment, in the silence, they could almost pretend that their fathers had never been captured. They could pretend they weren't both in love with the same girl and it hadn't broken them both. They had thought their loyalty was unbreaking — it would never come to this. But it could be like old times just this once as they stared into the fire when their only concerns were quidditch and winning ridiculous bets.
Theo glanced at Draco, who was drowning in thought.
"Do you remember in our third year when we had just learned fire charms, and we burned holes in every single pair of Goyle's pants?" He asked amicably, slowly grinning.
Draco snorted and smirked. "He still wore them."
The ice thawed. Theo would admit it, but he missed this — brotherhood. It seemed impossible to mend now after all that had happened.
He had spun his time-turner, finding Dahlia in his own forest, staring up into the eyes of Draco with infinite beginnings. He had kissed her like she meant something to him. Would even die for her. It made him overwhelmingly sick to process. Draco continued to betray him, not because he wanted to do right by his father, but because he was also clearly in love with Dahlia, which was so much worse.
He couldn't help but replay in his mind how she had leaned in to kiss him first. Theo wondered if he had almost pushed her to it with his outburst tonight.
Her terror was permanently painted in his mind. After her vision, she looked at him as if he would cage her for slaughter. It was heartbreaking to see her kiss Draco but to hear her agonizing scream and frightened whimpers had been a shattering of himself. Despite her broken promises, it still made him murderous to think of others hurting her. She was his, and he would hunt down anyone who was a threat. It made his good; she was a pure cause. He was content if that would be his end.
"You know it was never about pleasing your father? I just...she makes me want to be a better person," he mumbled quietly to Draco. He needed Draco to know that his intentions were good with Dahlia. His opinion mattered the most to him.
"Theo," Draco sighed. He looked him truly in the eyes, leveling with him.
"You don't know how to be," Draco answered. He chuckled at the thought.
Draco would be civil with Theo for her sake, but in his opinion, there was no bridge to be rebuilt between them. He would let it burn, and he wouldn't apologize for his indiscretions with Dahlia. In his eyes, Theo was collateral damage to a larger, cosmic picture. He only needed to wait it out. His mother had been right; he would implode eventually and scare her right into his arms. He had seen it firsthand at dinner on a small scale.
His attention was pulled to Juliet, who appeared from the dark hallway, her light brown hair disheveled.
"Theo?" She called quietly.
He lifted his head from the couch. Juliet stepped forward with a somber expression and lowered her shoulders. She fiddled with her nails as if she was uncomfortable speaking to him with an air of kindness.
"Dahlia wanted me to get you. She can't sleep," Juliet murmured awkwardly.
Theo realized this was her olive branch. She was trying to make up for her spiteful actions towards him ever since he had frightened her when he had stormed into the Ravenclaw dormitories in a blind fury, searching for Dahlia.
Draco stood and strode down the hall without a word in a cloud of bitterness.
Theo thought for a moment, his clever eyes tired before they finally narrowed in sorrow. He wasn't strong enough to put her indiscretion behind him, even if she needed him. He needed her to do better.
Hurt clouded his features as he blamed himself. Juliet nodded, empathizing.
"Juliet," he sighed, torn and worn. "Tell her I was already asleep."
—
Dahlia lay in Theo's bed, bathed in the early sunlight. She looked out the gilded windows to the rolling hills and forest beyond. She was exhausted. Her head pounded mildly, and her heart felt weighted. Theo hadn't come, not that she should be surprised, but the rejection wrecked her — today wouldn't be a fresh page.
Eloise sat next to her as she quietly sketched her tattoo in a notebook upon a large pillow. They hoped to research the marking on her skin and decipher its meaning. Dahlia had slept peacefully despite dreaming alone for the first time in quite a while. Draco had been nowhere to be found in their dreamland.
"It might be the sun in here, but I swear your hair looks lighter today," Eloise hummed. "It looked like it was radiating white flames yesterday when you were having your vision," she added.
"Should I cut my hair? Should I get bangs?" Dahlia asked.
She felt like she was recovering from a mental breakdown.
Eloise snorted. "You're going to be okay," she answered with a reassuring smile.
She leaned over the pillow and whispered, "You have two of the soon-to-be most dangerous men in the wizarding world wrapped around your fingers, plus you have us."
She smiled grimly.
"Juliet could most likely kill them both from verbal assaults alone. Their egos are quite fragile," she muttered, recalling her own Slytherin boyfriend.
Dahlia sighed and dragged herself out of bed. Speaking of dangerous Death Eaters, she needed to find Draco. She didn't know where she and Theo stood, but she knew where she wanted to stand with Draco.
It was too great of a risk. The image of him roaring her name as she desperately tried to escape from him was stained in her mind. She was weary of this path the Fates had her on. A horrible thought had been crossing her mind all morning — that she was bonded to Draco for the sole purpose of her timely death. It would be cruel and cosmic but typical for the Fates.
"Where are you going?" Eloise asked, face twisting with concern.
"I've been in bed for hours," she replied.
She shook her head. "Dahli-"
"I need to speak to Draco." Her tone was unbending.
Eloise was quiet for a moment, contemplating if speaking with Draco would be healthy for her, but that wasn't her choice.
She huffed in defeat.
"Down the hall on the left. Last bedroom to the right," she sighed.
"You don't owe him anything, Dahlia," she added.
"I know," Dahlia replied as she threw on a large, white cable knit sweater.
She walked out of the bedroom and closed the door behind her, careful not to make a sound. She crept down the hall, pausing when she came to what was supposedly Draco's room. She hadn't realized he had been so close. If she was braver, maybe she would have called for him last night instead.
She mustered up the courage to knock, fighting the urge to run back to the safety of Theo's bed, but he would be sure to scout her out soon, too.
"What?" She heard a muffled voice demand with irritation through the door.
She turned the handle and quietly stepped into his guest suite. She peered beyond the short hallway into the bedroom to see Draco still lying in bed. He was shirtless, throwing a golden snitch into the air repeatedly as if he had been in thought before she had rudely interrupted.
The chilled, wooden floor creaked beneath her bare feet, and he glanced over to meet her eyes. He momentarily stilled, the snitch fluttering in his palm like her heart.
"You look different," he muttered, nearly bitter as he noted her blonder streaks. He resumed tossing the snitch as if she hadn't entered at all.
She suddenly felt unsure of her choice to speak with him.
Draco noted her timid body language. She was uncomfortable here with him.
"I didn't say that I didn't like it," he added as if her self-consciousness was an inconvenience to him.
She pulled on the sleeves of her sweater as she moved closer to the bed. She sat on the edge, pulling her knees to her chest. She held her gaze on the glyph on his arm that matched her own, confirming their bond through all of time.
He smirked, following her line of sight. He showcased it like it was no longer a hideous secret and he had succumbed to his destiny. She squeezed her lips into a thin line. Neither would dare speak of it out loud.
"Why didn't you come to me last night?" She asked quietly. Her voice was riddled with insecurity that he hadn't chosen to come to her through their dreams.
She had seen the future, the end, but was still drawn to him even if that made her an absolute idiot. She couldn't decide if he was her worst mistake or the best thing in her life. Both notions were equally terrifying and kept her frozen — still out on that dock where she had stood since she was a child.
He held his breath at the unexpected question. He had gouged his heart out for her last night. He had never done such a thing before, and now she had the audacity to ask him why he didn't chase her again in her dreams. She had given him nothing in return for his outpourings.
He didn't spare her a glance, even though he was fixated on her close proximity.
"You want me to chase you, is that it?" He laughed darkly. "For how long, Dahlia? I'm growing bored of this."
He turned his bitter eyes lazily to meet hers.
Dahlia's mouth fell agape. He stared at her open mouth with disregard, not even bothering to conceal a flash of hateful lust. He rolled his eyes as his needy haze vanished just as quickly as it rose.
Dahlia couldn't help the intrusive thoughts that arose from his rejection. He was disappointed because she hadn't lived up to expectations. He had most likely seen her visible insecurity just now and had found her pathetic.
"No, I-," she stuttered in a whiplash. This was not the tone she was expecting from him after their kiss last night. It was a moment made for hauntings. She couldn't admit to herself that she might actually choose him — if he wouldn't be the one to kill her.
He rolled his eyes as she fumbled over words.
"Did it not occur to you that maybe I haven't gone to sleep yet?" He spoke to her as if he considered her beneath him again as if he owed her no explanations.
She snapped her mouth shut at the realization that he didn't — he owed her nothing. It was ridiculous to have hoped that he might want to owe her something. It dawned that he might actually consider last night a mistake.
He viciously ripped into her silent spiral with a snide chuckle. It replayed in Draco's mind endlessly — Dahlia calling for Theo instead of him last night. It fueled him. He began tossing the snitch, holding in his rage.
"Let me guess, you came here to apologize for kissing me and to tell me that it was a mistake. You're going to run back to the safety of Theo, who was a brother to me, you know? But you had to take that from me, too, didn't you?"
He shook his head as if she was the simplest of riddles.
"Was it fun for you, Dahlia? Did you only kiss me in the hopes of gaining more of your pathetic power since you were born with so little of it? You're shit at your classes, but that's quite clever, baby."
He glanced at her intimately, mocking her with a slow grin.
She couldn't help the heat rising to her cheeks. He raised a brow.
"Is that what you want? What you like?" He taunted her with a low laugh.
"I'm sorry, Dahlia. You weren't good enough for your ridiculous gods, and you sure as shit aren't good enough for me."
He saw the hurt he had smeared across her beautiful face. He almost instantly regretted his words, but he was hurting, too. She had flipped his life upside down. Taken his free will. Her repeated rejection bore into him tirelessly. All he had wanted was for her to storm in, choose him. Admit that she felt this too.
Her stomach filled with dread. She wasn't prepared for him to be so cruel. She thought they had moved past this. She had come here to talk about what she had seen in her vision and to figure out how to stop it. She thought she could potentially share her own theories on why they were connected, and they could have a civil conversation for once. He had patched up her bleeding heart last night, righted her world, only to reopen her wounds. She was nothing but insignificant to him now.
His stubbornness ignited a flame within her. He would love her or hate her, with no middle ground. And if that's how it was to be, then she would hate him too.
He watched her intently as she nodded slowly, accepting his vile words. She scrunched her face as she sniffed back oncoming tears. Her knuckles whitened as her demeanor morphed into something he knew well.
She released her knees from her chest and crawled across the bed towards him.
He ceased breathing. He had been prepared for her to storm out — not this. He lay in shock as she slowly straddled his hips and traced her hands up his bare chest. He inhaled sharply at her touch. Her eyes went sultry as they met his own.
He had never regretted saying something more in his life. He opened his mouth to apologize, but she placed a hand on his throat. He knew then. He knew he would let her do anything she pleased with him. He was at her mercy, regardless of the hatred that had flowed out of his mouth.
He placed his hand on top of her own as he made a horrible realization — he fucking loved her. He had been born to fucking love her. It was his only true purpose. He would chase her anywhere, let her lead him endlessly like the guiding star.
He forced her to tighten her grip if only to convey that he loved her so much that he would let her take his life. Whatever game they were playing now, he liked it. Her expression was meant to seduce, but he could tell there was a fury simmering under her skin, and he liked it even more. He had truthfully never wanted or loved anyone or anything more in this moment.
Dahlia sat across his waist as her hand cradled Draco's throat. She wondered what would happen if she squeezed tightly and didn't let go. Draco's own hand gripped her own, urging her to find out.
Would he really let her? Would that change their fate?
She bent down over his chest. "Is this how I kill you, Draco?" She whispered, mouth grazing his ear.
She knew he liked to hear her say his name. She trailed her mouth to his lips. "I've seen what you have dreamed. Is this how I wrap my hand around your throat before I kill you?"
He nodded and parted his lips. She smiled, her own mouth a fingertip away from his own.
"I bet you liked it." She laughed breathily into his mouth. "Do you love me, Draco?"
He was afraid to breathe. He searched for an answer to give her. He loved her tirelessly, but something told him he was amongst a trap she was setting. He had loved her a thousand times, but he couldn't admit it to her like this.
"Answer me," she demanded.
He opted out of using words altogether. He grabbed her from behind the knees as she straddled him and pulled her forward. He easily sat up despite her grip on his neck. He crashed his mouth onto hers. He grinned as she parted her lips for him with a quiet moan.
She was the only thing that felt right in his miserable life. He slid both his hands up the back of her oversized sweater. He wanted to feel all of her, touch every piece of her.
He kissed her like he loved her, but she kissed him with deep hatred. He was unable to differentiate. He gripped her so tightly she thought she might bruise. She leaned back as he kissed up her chest, lifting her sweater.
"You're so beautiful," he breathed.
He went to remove her sweater fully, but she grabbed his wrists to stop him.
He reeled himself in as he pulled away and wiped his lips with a heady breath. He assumed he was moving too fast for her. He gently kissed her jawline to slow it down and wrapped his arms around her waist.
"I would burn the world to ash for you," he prayed into her skin.
"Draco," she whispered as if she needed him.
"Yes?" He answered lightly.
She smiled — he was vulnerable.
She ran her fingers through his hair and pressed herself to his chest, pushing against his growing hardness. A groan left his lips as he held her close like an idol.
She brushed her hand across his handsome features. This was goodbye.
"It's you. You're the one who is going to kill me at my end," she murmured into his ear as he kissed her jawline.
He stilled, remembering. Your path is where mine ends.
Dahlia tried to smile, but she couldn't. To say it aloud had been awful and all too real. There was no sound except the birds who delightfully chirped outside.
He slowly sat back to meet her eyes as he held her waist firmly. He couldn't let her go. To drop his hands from her would be to let this shatter on the ground.
His demeanor turned serious. This had been her plan — the trap she had set. She had brought him to his ultimate high to kick him off the ledge. If he was cruel, she was lethal.
He quickly tried to calculate how to return from this.
She thought of all the times he had been mean to her — shoved her and called her stupid, worthless, a waste, a curse, pathetic, naive. She enjoyed the shock on his face. She trailed her nails down the pale skin of his chest between them. Maybe if she hadn't seen him murder her, she would have gladly let this escalate, but she was vengeful. His unkindness brought out the worst in her.
She swallowed hard but couldn't meet his gaze. "You hunted me down like a dog as I escaped. You had me chained to a stone Dias for your Dark Lord." She leaned into his ear and added in a whisper, "But he didn't kill me, so you did it yourself."
He was met with an expression that was so heartbreaking it would break dreams. It broke him.
"Do you think that will be fun for you, Draco?" Her voice wavered.
He watched a tear slip down her cheek. He wasn't sure if it was because she was so enraged or heartbroken. Regardless, he wanted to fix it.
He shook his head. "We can change it."
He was frantic as he defiantly tried to pull her back into his chest. He had pushed her too far with his nasty slights, but he hadn't known this. She couldn't leave now.
She pushed him off as he tried to cling to her, make her listen. She stood from the bed and hurried out of the room. It hadn't felt good to get even. In fact, it felt worse.
He chased after her, and Dahlia knew she never stood a chance.
Draco grabbed her by the arm before she could reach the door. Rage ignited that she had given up. Turned her back on him again. He spun her to face him, intimidatingly tall as he pressed her back pressed against the wall.
"That's it? Really, Dahlia?" He hissed, hitting the door to his right.
"This is the end? All you have to do is ask me to change it. Just ask, and I would destroy my life so we could be together, so you could live — but you won't. You turn the minute I hold you accountable for your own actions. You hurt people, and you aren't the victim that you think you are."
He shook his head, coming to terms.
Dahlia knew what came next. He truly saw her. Every awful layer. He always had.
"It's so tragic, Dahlia," he chuckled in pity. "I know you won't ask me to change the future because you're a fucking coward, and that is what he loves about you."
It came as no surprise. The blow barely even hurt because she called herself a coward so often. She was stuck — always so fucking stuck.
"No, Draco. You're the coward," she shakily whispered. "You'll cast the killing curse with my back turned. You think this hurts? I had to feel you physically stop my heart," she rasped through tears.
She was done and gone. He made a last-ditch effort, submitting to her cruelty.
He gripped her face so he could ensure she was looking into his eyes. There would never be time for a heartfelt revelation for them. The stars were damned, yet so perfectly crafted for them.
"I love you," he whispered as he pressed his forehead to hers, rageful.
He wanted her to tease him incessantly. He wanted her to shove him on beds and always wrap her hand around his throat before kissing him. He wanted to chase her forever, make her a Malfoy, and build her an empire. He needed to hear her say she loved him once, even if the words were 'I hate you.'
She shifted her forehead away, but he followed her gaze.
"I love you," he mumbled softly, eyes pleading.
It was as if even the air broke, suffocating them mercifully.
She thought of the good that was real despite how awful they were to each other — how he had held her for hours and nursed her back to life, how he had chased after her when she fell down the mine. Chased after in the forest. He had told her she was his everything, his paradise, and that he had taken her hand timelessly in other lives.
But she wasn't brave, and this unknown was too treacherous. The remembrance of her fingertips gone numb, the last breath condensing in the chill of night.
She laughed sadly and leaned up to kiss him one final time.
He pulled his face away, refusing to kiss her until she said it back.
She couldn't, wouldn't do it. It was too great a risk, and he was too awful. She tried to bring him to look at her, but he refused. She tried to move past him, but he grabbed her hand all too tightly, keeping her in place.
She looked down, defeated.
"It's him," she whispered.
He dropped her hand, shattering his own heart.
Dahlia moved past Draco and left him standing in the room alone.
—
Dahlia started the bath as she had seen Theo do the other night. She paced, removing her clothes as she waited for the tub to fill. She could feel the imploding of his heart — her heart.
Once the bath had pooled enough, she sank into the scalding water and let it nearly burn her. The physical pain was easier to handle than her drowning disappointment. She submerged her head under the water so her tears wouldn't count. She didn't want to have to admit that she had cried for Draco Malfoy.
—
Dahlia sat in the courtyard of the Nott Manor on a stone bench between the pristinely shaped hedges as the sun began to set. She tried to read her Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook in an attempt to start improving her grades. She had never let herself fall so far in her academics, and Draco's words had secretly stung.
She embraced the solitude and the lullaby of the breeze as she welcomed the moon on the horizon. With the golden rays of the sun fading, she was delighted to discover the hedges had been charmed. Tiny fairy shapes made entirely of leaves popped out sporadically from the hedges to dance above her wind-dried hair.
Dahlia sighed, a sad curl edging her lips. Even the greenery couldn't enchant her melancholia.
If only she could start over. Flip back the pages. Undig the grave she had made for herself as it had gotten far too deep to climb out of — to do something right for once. Never tell Theo her secret, nor leave Hogwarts with Draco. She could never leave anything well enough alone. Theo hadn't wanted to know her secret, nor had he wanted her help.
Dahlia leaned her head back, angling her face to the cleansing heat of the wilting sun. Drifts of laughter from inside the manor touched her ear. She recalled Theo's words about making new memories here — happier ones. She tried to imagine what it would be like to float through this lovely courtyard and call it her own, maybe in a life where life was gentler.
What type of wedding would they have? They both seemed to be on bad terms with what little family they had left.
Maybe they could elope, she thought.
She always wanted to visit the coast of Italy. Maybe they could live out the rest of their lives amongst muggles. They could escape and hide from all of this. He wouldn't feel the need to be so all-consuming. Draco would be gone, and they wouldn't have to concern themselves with the impending war. Maybe then, she would never turn to see his face beside hers on a blood-soaked Dias for the Dark Lord.
Dahlia picked at her nails, her expression molting with confusion. She knew Theo well, without naivety. He was exhaustingly calculated and a prideful flirt, but there was no ending to his earned loyalty. Dahlia was certain he would sooner die than betray her. She was certain the Fates had only shown her such a monstrous action from him to pull her from Theo and into her death-tied destiny involving Draco. It was false, like the hundred of realities shown with Draco.
Dahlia sensed heartache nearby. She knew who it was. She didn't need to turn to face him.
"Hello," she called in a small voice, head still turned to her textbook.
Theo tipped his golden skin to his blazing sun, hoping to numb the dread. They were opposites, as she answered to the moons. He would never entirely understand her — it's why he loved her so fucking much.
"You've been out here for a while," Theo replied, too smoothly for his liking.
He leaned against a stone pillar covered in vines behind her. Her back was turned to him as she sat criss-crossed on his favorite bench. He watched her honey-blonde hair, now interwoven with white strands, blow in the evening breeze. She didn't respond, but she also didn't scream in fear, which was a win for him.
"I'm sorry for my outburst last night at dinner. Our relationship has nothing to do with Lucius Malfoy. I hope you know that," he continued quickly, tucking his hands in his pockets. He was afraid she would make him leave before he could say his peace.
He braced for a harsh response.
"I do. I forgive you," she answered quietly, without an ounce of a grudge in her tone.
Dahlia appreciated the apology, even if it was certainly not his only offense of the evening, but she knew he would never apologize for his temper. She couldn't help but wonder what he could be — what they could be, with proper nurturing and newfound trust.
She was sick of thinking about Draco. He was a bone-deep infestation, hellbent on her demise. She let Theo's apology carry her heart to safer shores — ready to fall back together. He had grown to be her reliable pillar, and she couldn't imagine her life without his dirty jokes and his ability to make the most serious issues seem inconsequential. Most of all, she couldn't imagine abandoning him after he had lost so much. She knew what it felt like to lose your whole world in one person's death and have to reshape the foundation of life. He understood what Draco couldn't.
There was a long moment where all that was heard was the wind rustling the trees and the crickets chirping. She sat appreciatively in his presence — her anchor, unwavering. She finally broke the fragile silence. "I love you."
Theo scrunched his face. It was so casual yet sincere. She didn't say more. He kept waiting for her to say 'but' and then throw him away. She instead remained with her head in a book, enjoying the peace of his home.
"What are you thinking about?" He inquired seriously.
He masked his terror, breath held that this would be the end, especially since she had been so quick to forgive him. He had seen so much horror in her eyes as she had tried to get away from him in the woods. All he had ever wanted was to keep her safe within the palm of his hand, but she kept slipping through the cracks.
"I'm thinking about running away with you, eloping, and starting a hidden life amongst the muggle communities," she answered lightly with a close of her book.
She could sense a little weight had been lifted off his heart. She didn't have to lean into her enhanced abilities to know that he was grinning behind her.
She finally turned to face him. He looked tired but still deviously beautiful, with slackened shoulders and wind-kissed curls. His head always tilted an inch more than necessary in arrogance. She imagined him an ungodly prince strolling through the early evening gardens.
"Indulge me?" She smiled mischievously.
He nodded with a raised brow, his demeanor softening.
"What kind of ring do you think suits me?"
He pretended to think extra hard. "Maybe a sapphire? You look quite stunning in blue." His lip raised in one corner. His dimpled smile made her stomach flip.
He moved to sit down next to her on the bench, knees touching. He took the ring finger of her left hand. He paused quietly as he traced it.
"You know, my house was one of the original seventeen magical pureblood families from Rome." He traipsed from the tip of her finger to the inside of her elbow. "The Romans believed that you placed a wedding band on this finger because of the vena amoris, a vein that runs directly to your heart."
He traced up her shoulder and landed true with a small tap on her chest. He looked up and found her eyes. A grin spread as he saw unyielding love within them for the first time. He basked in it until she stole her gaze back, and his light dimmed.
Dahlia had never felt safer. She rubbed her palms together and sighed, "I found this prophecy from my mother in the journals you found."
She pulled out the journal from her pocket and read it to him before he could respond and before she lost the courage.
" Child of the chasm, my daughter of a thousand ripped tongues, heir apparent of the void, the forger of new fates will be bathed in starlight and remade from onyx ."
Her voice cracked. It had been difficult to read her mother's words out loud. She had left out pieces of the prophecy that she had her own suspicions about.
"Sounds important."
Theo was nonchalant as he leaned his forearms onto his knees.
She placed a hand on his bicep, needing to feel him as she started to confess.
"I took off my charmed necklace after I read this yesterday morning. I don't want to suppress that part of myself. It's like fighting the urge to breathe. I've been scared to tell you," she whispered in the last sentence.
He stiffened. "Why were you afraid to tell me?" He asked, shooting his narrowed gaze at her. It ripped through him to know that she might have feared him.
"Because I know you hate that you can't control it."
The minute she spoke it into the universe, she wanted it back. There was no turning time for this. There were only two words they ever refrained from using for fear it might break them entirely if they dared — controlling was one of them.
"Is that what you think? Dahlia, I hate things I don't understand. And if you think I've been controlling-" He ran his fingers through his hair in distress.
"You quite literally scampered off last night and kissed him in the woods. I saw you. How would you feel, Dahlia? You wouldn't hesitate to slit my throat if I did that with another woman."
He shook his head, unable to call it what it was — cheating. One feared word spoken was enough for him.
"I love you, but to what extent can I allow this? It hurts me, Dahlia."
He inhaled a shaky breath of exasperation. He couldn't look her in the eyes. He had already revealed too much of himself to her. He knew there was no extent. He only wished for the crumbs of her love.
There was a quiet moment of heartbreak. Draco's words echoed in her mind. She knew she was awful, but to be reminded by him, whom she loved, was all too humbling. She felt hot tears begin to fall down her cheeks. She had cried so much lately that she was sick of it, but his honesty had been the password to her worse truths.
"I'm sorry," she said earnestly. "I think we just moved so fast, and things are happening before I can even process them. It hasn't been easy coming into my abilities. I've just felt so lost and confused. I feel like my mother has left me alone, unprepared and with not an ounce of advice," she stated, tossing the journal onto the gravel.
"And I still miss her miserably. And I know it's unfair to use you as my emotional anchor, but the only place I even feel remotely safe is when I'm with you."
She averted her gaze.
"I know it wasn't right, but I just had this instinct to kiss him. This feeling is new, and I don't know how to control it. I knew something cataclysmic would happen if I kissed him, and I couldn't resist."
She wiped her tears bitterly. "And I was right. I saw something awful."
He finally looked up at her tear-stained face, numb to her words as they landed. He armored himself with an unreadable expression, truthfully fighting the urge to scream at her. He furrowed his brows curiously to push her to continue. He desperately needed to know what she saw, as his imagination had run wild.
"I saw what Draco must have seen. I'm not even sure if it was in this lifetime. It seemed like we were together and happy, but then I saw myself covered in blood and screaming at him in the end. Then, I fell to my own death. I was paralyzed on a Dias and surrounded by Death Eaters. The Dark Lord cast a spell on me, and I screamed so loud it was like a thousand seers screeched through me, too." She winced, remembering.
"It made his eyes bleed. He slammed me down onto the Dias again, and Draco approached me wearing a mask. You were on the other side of me, and you smiled as I lay soaked in my own blood," her voice wavered.
"But your face transformed into my father's face. I don't know what it means. Then, I found myself in the meadow outside of what I assume was the Malfoy Manor. I was running as fast as I could to get away from Draco as he screamed after me. He used the killing curse, and I returned."
Theo felt nauseous. He rubbed his hands on his face as he tried to process what she had just told him.
She took his hand. He let her.
"Theo, I don't want to live my life without you, but I don't know how to give you all of me right now. I don't even fully understand all the parts of me yet. I love you. I've loved you since I met you. We chose each other, and that means more to me than this tie to him. I just hope that you can be patient," she whispered.
It made little sense, but it was her truth, regardless of where he might one day stand. She knew he could be a better person if she loved him enough, and she could be better, too, if she tried hard enough. He was the right answer. She had come too far with him to give up completely.
Theo didn't know how to respond. His mind was reeling. All he could do was ask more questions so he could puzzle how to move forward for the sake of his own heart.
"And what about Draco?" He asked as he stared at the setting sun. It would be a new day soon.
"I don't know what to do about Draco. I've kissed him, broken your trust. I never expected to have this tie to him. It's wrecked us, and I'm so sorry. But I don't want to be with him. I closed that chapter this morning. There is an attraction, and I'm sorry for it. If you can't forgive me or live with it, I understand."
Theo winced, but it was about time she was honest.
She sighed. "I had my hands wrapped around his neck. I wondered for a brief moment what the stars would rewrite if I killed him then and there. Would they write us a happy ending, or would you become the monster?" She paused. "Maybe if I grow into my Sight, I can craft my own stars to write stories with. Change things," she added in a lighter tone.
Theo didn't respond, which wasn't like him. He was somewhere distant in his own thoughts.
"I don't like that you use your time-turner to spy on me..."
She touched his face to bring his eyes to hers gently.
He sighed as he gazed at her, her face searching for answers and acceptance.
"I'm sorry for that, Dahlia. I just wanted the truth. I know your ties to Draco aren't necessarily your fault."
He shook his head.
"I just, I see what we could be together, and I want it so badly. I want to keep you solely to myself, from everyone. I want to steal you so nothing can ever hurt you. I want to be the only person you notice and waste your time with. I want to do depraved things to you."
He interlaced his hand with hers.
"And I know I can be awful," he whispered. "You make me want to be better."
She saw the honesty in his harsh features. She wondered if she was one of the lucky few to be graced with this expression. He looked more like a heroic prince from a fairytale than a dark heir to a blood-stained fortune at this moment. It brought a smile to her lips.
He kissed their entwined hands.
"I love you. It seems like I might have to break the stars for you after all." He slowly grinned.
Dahlia wondered how many fresh pages were left in their own book. Hopefully, they wouldn't need them. She hugged him tight and breathed him in.
"You're going to be alright, Theo. I feel like no one ever tells you that," she whispered.
He held her, afraid to ever let go. He smiled into her tangled hair.
"Dahlia, I think I want to sleep in my bed tonight. Going from you to Goyle as a bedmate was quite drastic."
She snorted. "You could've slept on the couch instead of in bed with Goyle, you know..."
She wiggled out of his grasp and stood. He took her hand and pulled her back inside his home. They both silently vowed not to think about tomorrows, and to only focus on the todays.
—
Music blared through the kitchen and echoed through the empty, high-windowed halls. The sun shimmered its last rays to warmly welcome the moon. The entire group had gathered around the wide island carved and smoothed from ancient wood. Amelia flipped through vinyl records as she sat on the counter by the music box. She argued quietly with Blaise over which album by the Weird Sisters was best. Eloise sat upon the island, braiding Xavier's blue-black waves. He wore an irritated expression, although his eyes showed love. The rest were scavenging for dinner and painfully attempting to make waffles.
"Dahlia!" Juliet yelled, wine glass in hand. She pulled herself off of Lucas's lap and swayed over with a brilliant smile. Everyone turned to face the entrance of the kitchen where she stood.
"Feeling any better?" Daphne asked, whipping a wooden within a bowl to make more waffle batter.
"Yes! I'm sorry," Dahlia answered shyly with a wave of her hand as she stepped farther into the kitchen. Her cheeks flushed at the idea of what they may have witnessed within the wood last night. She grappled with the sudden exposure of what she was — a secret she had kept well hidden for most of her life.
The room quieted as they wore confused expressions. "For what?" Pansy asked, licking batter off her fingers. Amelia hopped on the counter in a swift, graceful motion, sensing her discomfort.
Dahlia shifted her weight. No one seemed to expect an apology. It was freeing and left Dahlia feeling a bit ridiculous. Dahlia smiled, embarrassed. "That you had to see-"
Amelia covered her mouth mid-sentence as she pushed past Theo to jump onto her back. Dahlia crashed into the island and laughed loudly.
"Get her some wine! She's far too lucid now!" Amelia giggled.
"There's nothing to apologize for," Daphne replied simply.
"If you ask me, I think that's a pretty wild party trick," Lucas said as he pulled the bowl of batter away from Pansy and Daphne. He ate a spoonful and then grimaced as it hadn't been as sweet as he expected.
"This is awful, Pans." He coughed.
Theo set a full plate of waffles in front of her on the kitchen island. He leaned over her to pour maple syrup in the shape of a smiley face as he pressed his tongue to his upper lip in concentration. He grinned at her, proud of himself. They had all written off using the dining room after the horrible attempt at a family dinner last night.
Xavier leaned upon the island, across from Dahlia, with a curious grin." So, you obviously have serious visions, but can you do anything else?"
"Like what?" Dahlia asked, mouth full of waffles.
"Like predict questions on a test?" Xavier asked slyly. His blue eyes lit with mischief.
"Can you tell me who I'm going to marry?" Pansy asked casually, despite her stiffening grip on the wooden spoon.
Dahlia took another bite of her waffles and thought for a moment. "Possibly. I could probably tell you when you'll get married and how many husbands you'll potentially have." She shrugged nonchalantly as if she assumed most women would go through husbands like seasons.
The girls quieted and inhaled collectively. They looked at Dahlia with widened eyes.
"Dahlia, I didn't know you could do that," Juliet said seriously, setting down her wine glass.
"Please, please try! Do me first!" Pansy exclaimed, throwing the bowl of batter into the sink.
Theo's fingertips grazed the back of her neck as he went to remove her protective necklace so she could better channel. He placed the necklace in her palm as she leaned back into his broad chest. She smiled happily. This small action counted hugely in her heart. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her as close as possible. He kissed her temple and murmured not so quietly into her ear, "Can you predict what naughty things I'm going to do to you tonight?"
She blushed and curled her toes.
"You know it's tough for me to predict only a few seconds of the evening," she answered cheekily.
Blaise spit his wine out as Theo pushed her away playfully.
"Three-second Theodore," Xavier choked in laughter.
"Put that on his tombstone," Blaise quipped.
"Darling, look what you've done!" Theo shook his head, throwing a waffle at her.
"I think I'll put that on my shirt for your next quidditch match," Dahlia teased.
He picked up her plate and held it over her head, where she couldn't reach. "I dare you," he laughed as he threatened her.
"Alright, enough! Give me my marriage advice, Dahlia," Pansy demanded.
So Dahlia did. She touched their hearts and read them all.
—
Later into the night, Theo lit a fire within a stone pit just outside the massive doors of the cursed dining room. The girls gathered around the fire, wrapped in blankets and drinking wine. The boys huddled over the dining table, playing card games as they usually did. Dahlia watched them through the windowed doors out of her periphery. She knew Theo had lost something particularly expensive when she spotted him sliding out of his chair and onto the floor. He groaned as he pulled down on his eyes. Draco grinned as if he had bested him. He poured more whiskey into his glass.
Amelia followed Dahlia's gaze, and a smirk slowly spread across her face. "You think we should ask the guys if they want to bet on something other than money?"
Dahlia grinned, wine sloshing through her veins. She was ready to let loose after the stressful weekend, and Amelia had always been her best accomplice.
Amelia winked through the window at Blaise to catch his attention. He stood up with narrowed eyes, knowing the telling grins on their faces. He opened the door with an unsettled sigh.
"What are you grinning about, trouble?" He asked Amelia.
"Strip poker?" She asked him with a raised brow.
He laughed darkly and turned to the table.
"The girls want to play for clothes," he yelled back at them.
Theo looked at Dahlia with eyes wide and mouth open as if she had scandalized him. He shook his head as the corners of his mouth perked into a warning smirk.
They walked into the warm dining room.
"We're playing in teams," Blaise announced as he pulled Amelia into his lap.
Theo motioned for her to come to him. She sat in his lap, still wrapped in a blanket, as she recovered from the evening chill. Eloise sat with Xavier, Juliet with Lucas, and finally, Pansy with Draco. Dahlia refused to look in his direction.
" Have you ever played poker before?" Theo whispered into her ear. His words were smoothly slurred.
He was drunk, and she wasn't that far off either. She smelled the whiskey on his breath. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket. He looked to her for permission as he had been trying to cut back for her sake, even though she had never asked. She reached for the lighter on the table and lit it for him. He blew the smoke away from her.
"I mean, I've watched you play poker before," she answered lyrically.
"Merlin, help us. Thank gods I prefer to be unclothed," he joked.
She watched his mouth as he placed the cigarette between his lips with obvious desire. He winked, making it clear that he now knew she was more than buzzing with wine, and he would keep it a secret.
Blaise began dealing cards per couple. Theo pulled their dealt hand to them.
"Oh wow, is that good?" She asked.
He covered her mouth with his hand to hush her as he grinned.
"Incognito, baby," he whispered above her ear. He laughed softly.
"Worst hand has to remove their shirts," Blaise called out, setting the rules.
She ran her fingers through Theo's dark curls repeatedly. He gripped her thigh a little more firmly, imagining her tugging on his hair in a much different scenario. He appreciated the public display of desire from her as he often instigated instead. The small intimacies were almost foreplay, with liquor clouding their resistance.
Each couple went around the table and slowly revealed their cards. They had a flush. Juliet and Lucas lost the round. She removed her sweater and threw it in Lucas's face.
Blaise dealt again.
Theo let out a low laugh when he saw their cards. They started laying down their hands when Theo threw his into the center of the table in defeat. He knew they had lost, so he immediately took off his long-sleeved shirt in one fluid motion. Dahlia hesitated for a moment, not feeling as brazen with Draco nearby. She took a sip of Theo's drink and quickly removed her sweater before she could think about it too much. Luckily, the bra she was wearing was black. The ink of her marking blended with it in the candlelight.
She adjusted herself on Theo's lap to face away from Draco. Theo wrapped his arm around her waist and let his hand fall on her inner thigh. He slowly brushed his fingertips in small circles.
Dahlia struggled to maintain her composure. She held her breath to prevent something close to a whimper from falling through her lips. She also fought the urge to squeeze his upper thigh in return. This was torturous. He was teasing her, and she could feel Draco's eyes drilling into her bare back. She crossed her legs swiftly, removing his hand.
Theo smirked. He knew she was impatient with foreplay, and this was her own personal hell.
Four rounds later, most shirts were gone, and Blaise had lost his pants. Amelia had refused to remove hers, claiming she wasn't wearing underwear.
Draco and Pansy had just lost the latest round. Dahlia looked at them as they removed their shirts, worried it would be suspicious if she looked away. She smiled through the jealous beat of her heart.
Draco held Dahlia's eyes, face expressionless, as he wrapped his arms around Pansy's middle and leaned onto her shoulder. Dahlia fought the urge to bring her mouth to Theo's out of pettiness.
She resisted — she shouldn't care about Draco in the first place, and it would be childish. Theo tensed as Draco caressed his eyes over Dahlia from head to toe.
"I'm growing tired of this," he announced.
He didn't want to share any more of her. He wouldn't dare have her remove another item of clothing — not with Draco's stolen glances.
Dahlia whined, assuming Theo had just grown restless as usual.
"Should we go swimming?" She asked slyly.
"It's freezing out, love." Theo's hand tightened on her waist. A resistance showed beneath his casual demeanor.
"So heat the water," she murmured on his neck. "You love your fire charms," she joked.
Dahlia removed herself from his lap. Theo felt suddenly empty as he watched her hips sway over to the French doors. He rolled his eyes and followed her to the Roman-style pool tucked within the sprawling courtyard. Every new turn revealed something to be discovered.
The pool was surrounded by swirling hedges and blooming white flowers. The looming trees gave it a small sense of privacy — intimacy.
Dahlia didn't wait for Theo, who lingered behind. She closed her eyes, silently casting a spell to warm the water. She turned to pull off her leggings in front of Theo until Amelia tackled her into the warm pool. She came up for air, laughing as she heard everyone else jump in. She wiped the water from her eyes and saw Theo seated on the edge, dangling his legs into the water, leaning back against his wrists. She swam over to him as he placed another cigarette between his lips. She put her wet chin on his knee.
"Yes?" He asked with a lazy grin.
"Did you like my wandless magic?" She asked. She wanted to prove that she could be as clever as him.
Not to be bested, Theo lit his cigarette with nothing but a thought. He snapped his fingers as it lit for showmanship.
"I like everything you do, my Dahlia," he answered smoothly.
"Everything?" She slurred happily. He nodded, and she was the center of his world.
"Would you like to see me do a handstand?" She began swimming away.
"Oh, absolutely," he answered, bringing his hand to his heart.
"I would adore nothing more." He blew smoke into the chilling night's breeze. He smiled as if they were young children with nothing to worry about — no darkness to consider.
Dahlia couldn't help but notice Draco and Pansy sitting on the steps of the pool. They huddled in an intimate conversation as he playfully splashed water at her. Her gut twisted, spirit diminishing. She thought she might vomit with jealousy and the flood of wine. She hated him, but she couldn't help caring.
"Come on! Show me," Theo encouraged.
Dahlia peered up to the night sky and contemplated if she should just go inside and drown herself in covers. Draco had stolen all of her fun.
"I don't know anymore," she replied doubtfully.
He tilted his head, feigning anger. "Dahlia, do I need to show you my handstand?" He asked dramatically.
She laughed as he threw his cigarette on the ground and dove into the pool rather barbarically. His less-than-perfect dive splashed Draco and Pansy, drenching them.
Theo proceeded to do a perfect handstand in the shallow end. Dahlia wondered how many days he had spent in this pool as a child, practicing such things.
He disappeared beneath the surface, and in the silver moonlight, she saw his shadow approaching her. She screamed in anticipation before he grabbed her by the middle. He lifted her into the air as he emerged from the water, laughing drunkenly. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms behind his neck. His hair was slicked back, cheeks flushed from drinking. The golds of his eyes reflected in the light of the pool. He was spun of gold.
Theo smiled wildly at her enchanted expression as he lazily carried her to the edge of the pool.
"You're, um-"
"What?" He laughed.
"You're really, really beautiful," she whispered, a little embarrassed only because he knew so. He enjoyed being fawned over by girls. It was partly why Dahlia never doted on him as he did her.
"I thought I was annoying," he mocked.
She suddenly remembered the first night they had spent time together. He smirked and nodded as she leaned her head back. "I remember everything when it comes to you," he muttered against the column of her neck.
"I'm afraid you still are annoying," she giggled.
He gripped her tighter to his chest and tickled her in response. "Then you better run. I'm about to be really annoying."
Theo carried her out of the pool. Once out of the water, she fought her way free from his arms. She ran, heart racing and in a haze, back towards the manor.
The stars glimmered in a rolling tide as she laughed to the skies. Theo chased her down and flung her back into his arms. They burst inside the manor, dripping upon the wooden floors as they were both soaking wet. She cried out wildly as he pretended to nearly drop her, catching her quickly and hushing her lips as they headed upstairs.
"Gods, Dahlia. Tatters is getting his beauty sleep," he scolded in a whisper as he feigned concern for his house-elf.
Dahlia covered his mouth in return, and he bit her. He kicked open his bedroom door and strolled into the bathroom. He sat her down on the large protruding bench inside his mosaic shower.
"We're showering?" She asked incredulously.
"Don't be ridiculous. We're not getting into my bed covered in pool water. Plus, our hair would never recover." He shook his head as if it were common sense.
He turned the shower on. Water began spewing from two shower heads above. He motioned for her to take the rest of her clothes off.
She motioned for him to come closer to her instead. He strolled over to her with an eye roll. He came to a halt, towering over where she sat on his shower bench. He tilted his head, eyes darkening.
Her fingertips brushed the top of his briefs. She leaned her head against his waist as she peered up. Neither of them was laughing anymore. She removed her fingertips from his skin and went to unclasp her bra.
A dark lust clouded his features. She caressed her fingers down his toned chest until she got to his briefs again. She pulled them down this time. They dropped to the floor. He didn't move an inch as she exposed him fully.
She grinned, and he cupped her cheek with the palm of his hand, eyes unreadable.
He was probably hoping that she would take him into her mouth again. Instead, she leaned back on her hands. He eyed her from her lips to her thin underwear. She raised her brow.
"I'm waiting," she drawled in an impatient tone.
The shower was starting to steam.
He whistled, then grinned wickedly.
He came down to his knees before her. He kept his eyes on hers as he removed her water-soaked underwear. He threw them at the shower wall, then grabbed her hip in one hand and her knee in the other. He opened her legs and stuck a finger in her mouth for her to suck. He kissed below her belly button and inserted that same finger inside her. She gasped and felt him smirk as his lips were against her stomach.
He licked from the side of her knee all the way up her inner thigh. She moaned and leaned her hips into him. He loved to watch her writhe around at his mercy. She put her leg over his shoulder. He caressed the side of her thigh with his fingertips.
He lowered his mouth, and she felt his tongue slide over her. She whimpered in pleasure. He gripped her tighter. He was going painfully slow, and she felt like they had been teasing each other all night. He kept steady as he pumped his hand and tasted all of her.
"Please," she managed.
Theo looked up from between her thighs. He pushed her legs from his shoulders to around his waist. He stood and picked her up with him in one swift motion.
"I want to watch your mouth when you come for me," he said as he pushed her against the wall.
He lifted her waist and slid into her. She moaned and leaned her head back against the wall. He started moving, but this wasn't what she wanted.
She kissed him and murmured into his mouth, "Sit."
He obeyed without question and brought them to a seated position on the bench. He gripped the back of her thighs as she began riding him. He hissed in pleasure. She ran her fingers through his wet hair.
He thought he might spend the rest of his life searching for this same high. The way she moved when she took pleasure from him would forever be burned into his memory. It felt almost sacrilegious to be buried so deep in someone so Divine.
He could read her body, her pulse — she was getting close. He could feel her heart beat more rapidly as their chests collided.
She closed her eyes as cascading bliss neared. He gripped her jaw.
"Come," he whispered into her lips.
His demand was all she needed. He bucked into her, and she fell endlessly.
He slid his hand to her cheek as he watched her face, satisfied that she was here — choosing him, loving him. He brought his mouth to hers.
"I love you," she said, moving harder.
"Say it again," he told her.
"I love you," she whispered.
"Again," he demanded.
"I love you," she repeated.
She pulled his hair and kissed him hard. He moaned into her and gripped her hip firmly down onto him until he found his release. He shuddered beneath her touch. She kept her mouth on his and kissed him desperately as if she had something to prove.
He pulled back, breathing heavily. "I love you too," He mumbled.
He kissed her temple and tucked her head beneath his chin, terrified there might be a day when this was a sad memory.
They finally showered. Exhaustion arrived unexpectedly. He washed her hair for her, and she soaped down his body. It was the best kind of intimacy that built great loves. He grabbed her a towel, and she dried herself. They sat on the bed in their towels as he brushed through her hair.
"You ready to go back to Hogwarts tomorrow?" He asked.
"No," she laughed softly. "Are you?"
"No, but at least we're going back in a better place than we arrived. I know you said you can't give your heart fully to me until you sort yourself out, but I have to admit, I feel you are more mine than you ever have been. I won't fuck this up, Dahlia." He leaned in and kissed the back of her neck.
She leaned back into his chest for comfort. He watched her smile. She felt his breathing even as he drifted to sleep, taking her wakefulness with him, too.
—
Dahlia sat up beneath a swaying willow tree. The wind greeted her eagerly. She glanced around, realizing she was completely alone.