Dahlia had given up trying before class had even started.

She sat with her cheek in her hand as her eyes refused to read the text on the page of her Charms textbook in front of her. Instead, she chose to peer out the arched windows as the sun gently set, letting the soft candlelight take hold of the classroom. The dimming ambiance would almost be soothing under different circumstances — if she wasn't so miserable.

Professor Flitwick drawled on, his pitched voice falling into the background to her wild and distant thoughts. It was the last elongated moment of her final class on her first day back from the holiday break. She waited patiently for the Clock Tower to strike and free her of the torturous whispers and shifting eyes.

She hadn't anticipated how difficult this day would be. The whispers had started early in the morning as all eyes landed in her direction after glancing over to Theo's empty seat, but no one had been brave enough to ask about his absence until after her third period.

A few Slytherin quidditch players had called after her as she passed through the Transfiguration Courtyard, swiftly strolling to her next class.

"The lovely Dahlia," a dark-haired chaser named Ian Vaisey had yelled smoothly.

Dahlia had turned, nearly fighting the urge to plaster on a glowing, people-pleasing smile despite her turmoil. Some habits die hard — if at all.

"Any idea where Nott has gone today? He was absent last evening, as well," the fellow chaser asked as he stepped closer.

Dahlia smiled warmly. It was hard not to when these walls were filled with the sweet ghost of who she remembered him to be. She had imagined him walking proudly down the halls with his loosened tie, thundering cloak, and crooked grin. He would no doubt make it a point to steal a kiss from her now, maybe murmur something filthy in her ear, as she stood with one of his teammates.

"I have no clue," she had answered.

Her words would be the match to a wildfire of outlandish gossip.

Her 4th and 5th periods had passed awkwardly. She had taken her usual seat in Charms class — her last class of the day — all too aware of the vacant chair next to her. Her classmates whispered loudly, speculating about their breakup and deeming it inevitable.

"Just because she doesn't know why he is absent doesn't mean they've officially broken up," Lavender Brown had whispered loudly. "But, I did hear he cheated."

"That's not true," Hannah Abbott corrected. "If anything, she cheated with Draco Malfoy. Cho told me her roommate saw Dahlia disappear with him during a party last fall."

"Regardless, I bet she broke it off. You know?" Romilda Vane whispered, righting all of Theo's insecurities in those two small words.

He had asked her so many times: Am I enough? Will I ever be worthy of you?

Dahlia stared blankly at the middle of the desk, where Theo used to trace the lines in her palms and rub her knuckles during class.

Padma gasped quietly. "You think the rumors are true then?"

"No," Romilda scoffed. "But imagine? That would be the match of the decade," she giggled.

"Rita Skeeter always has good intuition," Lavender babbled.

"Shut the fuck up," Amelia grumbled as she sauntered past the girls. She had slid into Theo's old seat, tightly squeezing Dahlia's hand before snapping and pointing to the seat behind her.

Blaise quickly obeyed, smoothly gliding into the seat she had assigned. Draco followed, gracefully slouching into the seat behind Dahlia. He had stared at her intently, practically begging for her thoughts as he sensed her fallen hopes.

"Dahlia," he sighed. A brief intimacy lingered in his breath. It resurfaced the memories of how he would call for her in both the kitchen of his safe house and her mother's home.

She fully eyed him, tight-lipped, as she wished he would just reach for her and fix her day.

"Draco," she sighed in return with not nearly as much hidden affection.

He opened his mouth to reply, but Dahlia quickly turned to face the front of the class.

"Dahlia," he whispered again.

Her name was swift and pointed in his mouth. It only made her wish to hear Theo's breathy pronunciation once more. Draco always spoke her name with absolution — like she was the precious jewel he had searched the crevices of the world to obtain and would sooner die than give her up. Her name had always fallen from Theo's lips as if he had nothing better to do but dream about her. It was a lyrical escape to a midsummer dream where he would always be the one to brush her wet hair and swear loose, silly promises.

"Dahlia," he whispered more loudly.

Her resentment must have been palpable as Draco made a bold move for someone who was determined to keep their relationship under wraps. As the room slowly filled with distracted students, he tugged on her half-up ponytail. Dahlia's head snapped back over his desk, and he quickly murmured, "I love you, baby."

Dahlia had faltered, revealing a sad smile before she slapped his hand away and readjusted her hair bow. She had rested her head against her cheek as Draco kept a watchful eye on her for the entirety of class. Her melancholia hung like a cloud overhead despite his effort to cheer her up.

The bells of the Clock Tower finally reverberated through the classroom. She stood quickly, her gaze letting go of the dusk as she collected her things. Amelia bumped her side with an elbow.

"Have dinner with me?" She wore a nostalgic grin — the one she wore on summer nights before trouble found them.

Dahlia nodded. The thought of lying in her bed for the rest of the evening was all too pathetic. She slung her book bag over her shoulder. The missing weight of her journal was significantly noticed by her heart, but she had thought it best to leave it behind.

Dahlia locked arms with Amelia as Blaise and Draco followed behind them a short distance to the Great Hall.

"I don't like seeing you sad," Amelia sighed as they strolled along.

Dahlia glanced over her shoulder as Draco let out a smooth laugh that echoed through the corridor. She turned back. He was magnetic, garnering attention from even the highest portraits.

"I think I'll be happier eventually," she replied with a half-broken smile.

They entered the Great Hall and took a seat at the Ravenclaw table for privacy while Blaise and Draco headed to their respective table.

"I could absolutely murder Theodore," Amelia grunted, biting into a piece of bread.

Her golden brown skin grew flush at the thought as she chewed barbarically. "I'll do it, and I'll eat a slice of cake on his shallow grave when I'm finished. I'll liquefy his lungs and-"

"Xavier actually promised me a pack of dogs," she interrupted.

Amelia tilted her head with a heartwarming smile. "That's a lovely gesture. I quite adore that idea."

A group of whispering third-years passed by them as they found seats.

"I love your hair today, Dahlia!" One of them called with a pitiful grin.

It only made her want to crawl under a rock. Dahlia pinched her forehead.

"You were right. I should have listened to you. Why do I never listen to you? If I did, I would never have cut my own bangs in my second year, and I wouldn't have let him do this to me."

Dahlia glanced around as the rumors only became more ludicrous about where Theo might be and if they had broken up.

"I would never have let him embarrass me like this if I had only just listened to you. You warned me," Dahlia mumbled, shaking her head.

"I'll never say I'm right or I told you so. Honestly, I'm just as surprised as you are. He seemed content there for a moment — almost honest for once."

Both their gazes shifted behind them as Draco's silken voice resounded down the Slytherin table in the direction of a poor group of fourth-years.

"He really loves you. He was lovesick for months. I could hardly contain myself when your letter insinuated that you two were finally stuck together...alone in that cabin," Amelia whispered.

"When neither of you had written back, we knew," Amelia smirked. "You could only hold out for one day? I thought Malfoy would have surely lost an eye before you admitted your feelings."

"I do love him," Dahlia sighed. "Even if I'm still learning to love admitting it."

Amelia snorted. "Well, anywho, I heard September is the new June for weddings."

She held her knife up. "And I'm not wearing pastels."

She cut through her tenderloin as if she were wielding an axe. "And Theo will have a stroke when the time comes, so we'll need a medic."

"We could be buried together after a fifty-year marriage, and Theo would still write off my feelings for Draco."

She threw her spoon and pushed back invisible hair. "It's justa simple cuhrse!" She mimicked Theo's flair and nonchalant demeanor.

Amelia snorted. "You forgot the dead eyes and obscene amount of jewelry."

Dahlia's attention was captured as her eyes shifted to Draco. He stood wordlessly from the Slytherin table and headed towards the large doors of the Great Hall. He spun around and raised his brow at her, suggesting she follow, before turning again and hooking a sharp left towards the stairs of the Entrance Hall.

Dahlia's stomach tightened. She stood from the table and reached for a tarte to take with her.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she mumbled to Amelia in a rush.

Amelia shook her head with a knowing grin. "Love you," she muttered.

"Love you!" Dahlia called back, exiting the Great Hall only a brief moment after Draco had.

She spotted his silver hair easily as a student opened the entrance doors. He lingered outside, inconspicuously waiting for her to catch up.

When she stepped into the courtyard, he strolled on casually without looking in her direction. She followed a few meters behind as he led her over the Viaduct Bridge towards the Astronomy Wing. The fresh snow flurries marked his path.

Dahlia tried to place her feet upon the stone bridge where his footsteps had fallen.

The warmth of the candlelight skittered across the expansive Grand Staircase as she stayed near, taking two steps at a time. He turned right, past the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, throwing her a subtle wink as he spun on his heel.

He quickened his pace as he raced up to the Astronomy Tower. The crowd thinned as she rushed to follow like his shadow.

Dahlia glanced above as he swiftly climbed the swirling staircase, then disappeared into a forgotten corridor. Dahlia was nearly winded when she finally made it to the deserted landing, yet she took off, her blue, silky bow catching the wind as she skipped to seek him out.

As she drifted into the dark corridor, a pair of familiar arms snaked around her waist and hauled her into the air. She dropped her book bag, laughing in delight as he spun her in a circle. The starlight pierced through the snow clouds, illuminating the stained glass windows as he heaved her towards the bare wall of the Room of Requirement.

Dahlia made no qualms to be put down as he shifted to cradle her. She took a bite of the tarte she had taken from the Great Hall as she lounged casually in his arms. He opened his mouth, pacing three times for the door to appear. Dahlia popped the rest of the tarte into his mouth before kissing his cheek.

"You're welcome, my royal servant," she teased, kicking her feet in the air.

He smirked, then pretended to almost drop her. Dahlia covered her mouth as a scream threatened to escape. She gripped his neck more tightly as he smoothly whispered, "Servant? I quite remember you being the one on your knees — and liking it."

"I hate you," she replied bluntly, licking the remaining sugar off her fingers.

"You know those three words only make me ravenous," he smirked.

The door materialized. Draco shoved it open, using his back as she was still secured within his arms. He kicked her nearby book bag over the threshold.

"Ever the gentleman," she snorted.

"I never claimed to be." He smirked, strolling deeper into the Room of Requirement.

"Miss Aldair, I have a very serious question," he declared.

"I'm not in the mood for questions," she answered smugly.

He quickly grinned, caught off guard by her sass. "You'll like this one, I promise."

"What is it, Malfoy?" She sighed.

He threw her onto the plush velvet couch. "I believe I owe you my time, and we can make this room anything—"

"I want to see your bedroom," she quickly answered. "At the manor!"

"Really?" He came to his knees as she remained seated on the sofa. "We can transform this room into quite literally anything you wish, and you want to see my bedroom?"

He brushed his hands up her thighs with a growing smirk. She bent her knee and placed a foot on his chest. He glanced beneath her skirt with darkened eyes.

"My curiosity is quite parched."

"As you wish," he whispered.

Draco closed his eyes, willing the room to morph into his imagination. Dahlia's surroundings spun as if she were on a carousel. The room roared as the towers of clutter crashed and rebuilt themselves, molding to Draco's will. She closed her eyes as she quickly became dizzy.

Silence fell. Dahlia yelped as her bum landed on the cold, smooth stone as the couch dematerialized. She opened her eyes to find new surroundings as Draco stood, then helped her to stand. She expected her hand to fall through the furniture as if it were only a projection, but it was all so real. The air in the room had even shifted to a woody richness.

Draco watched her carefully as she slowly inspected all aspects of the room in a feline nature. She walked lighter, touched more delicately as if she shouldn't be in his bedroom.

The dark floors were polished yet aged. No rug kept the black marble warm. The room was shaped like a half moon, with pillars made of precious stone lining the curved wall between an endless row of diamond-shaped windows. The pillars met at the top of the ceiling, forming a spectacular arch accented with black wood that gave the bedroom an intimate yet grandiose feeling.

She turned to find tapestries on either side of the large bed. One depicted a dragon snaking its serpentine neck around a unicorn in the hopes of devouring it whole in shades of pinks and golds. The other showcased a dragon digging its talons into a leopard in shades of orange and blue.

Draco placed his hands in his pockets as his eyes followed her own.

"My mother liked to celebrate dragons since my father allowed her to keep the Black family tradition — she named me after the constellation, despite the fact that I am first and foremost a Malfoy."

"He must adore your mother," Dahlia mumbled, spinning an enchanted globe on a desk. It projected memories of their family travels as it turned and slowed.

"He does. Family has always been what we value most."

"Then how did you turn out so rotten?" She teased.

He shook his head and withheld an answer, but Dahlia already knew firsthand. Some names only held power and strength in the fear they instilled. To spare kindness was weakness, and with the Dark Lord returned, to show kindness was death.

Dahlia smiled, tracing the smooth blackened wood of a rounded table by the canopied bed against the flat wall facing the windows. The canopy nearly reached the ceiling. Emerald curtains were tightly secured to the ornately carved posts. Cream and silver pillows lined the impressively large bed.

Dahlia struggled to jump onto it as it was rather tall. She finally situated herself after exerting quite the effort.

"I thought it would be bigger," she admitted, crossing her legs.

"Don't be rude," he scoffed. "This is only the bed chamber."

She smirked before falling back onto the mattress with a bounce. She stared up to nothing. Maybe that was why he was so steeled. He had fallen asleep beneath emptiness.

"The ceiling above my bed is enchanted to show the stars." She paused, revealing a grateful smile. It all made sense. "Isn't it sweet to think that I might have fallen asleep beneath your constellation every night?"

She felt the weight of his body land on the bed. She turned as he laid his head down by hers. "The beauty to be found in fate makes it all worth it, don't you think?" He whispered.

Dahlia smiled like a fool as she tilted her head to face him.

She nodded, then squeezed his hand tightly. "I love you."

He brought his opposite hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear before leaning over to kiss her.

"I love you too," he whispered.

He caressed her neck as she parted her mouth to let him in. A soft moan escaped her lips. She had missed this all too much. He pulled away too soon.

Dahlia chased the kiss, and he smirked.

"I knew I would get you in this bed, one way or another," he murmured.

She lightly slapped his cheek. He took her hand as it met his skin and dragged two of her fingers into his mouth. He grazed them with his teeth as he pulled them out between his lips.

Dahlia felt as if she had been electrified, frozen in place. Her desire was fully lit in a single moment. He teased his lips against hers in a game of anticipation, but she didn't care if she lost since he was the prize either way.

She rolled on top, straddling him as she crushed her mouth against his. He answered her eagerly and twisted his fingers into her hair.

She breathed heavily, unable to get his clothes off fast enough.

He sat up and unbuttoned her shirt quickly, only pausing to allow her to pull off his own. She pressed her hands against his broad chest. He was magnificent; every dip and curve carved for her.

She unbuttoned his pants, and he pulled her skirt over her head. She moved to roll off of him, but he quickly wrapped an arm around her waist and held her firmly in place. He pushed her hard against his lap.

"No," he ordered, the hollow of his cheeks flushed with need. She felt him beneath her, already painfully hard, and she couldn't resist wrapping her fingers around him so soon. She could never hold all of him within her hand. He bit his lips together as he placed his hand over hers, forcing her to stroke him more tightly.

She watched his face as he watched her please him. His jaw was tight, and his eyes were filled with a coldness that had her believing he was only imagining all the filthy things he wanted to do to her. It was nearly enough to make her moan again.

She stroked the entire length of him, and he shuddered. She wanted all of him in her, now and all the time. She wanted his sweat to drop onto her and in her mouth while he filled her, further and further to the hilt. She wanted him to lick the salty slickness off her burning skin as they worked hard, exhausting themselves with each other. The ache in her grew rapidly.

"Draco," she whispered, pleading.

He flipped her onto her back, quickly easing off her underwear. She smirked, knowing he would fill her soon. Instead, he settled his face between her legs without warning.

Dahlia tensed, inhaling sharply as he dragged the flat of his tongue against all of her. He pushed her thighs wider as she squirmed beneath him, feeling his mouth against her all too intensely.

He didn't care. He pulled her forward, deeper into his mouth, as her knees fell over his shoulders. She arched her back as he held her in place. His tongue explored all of her with a groan.

"You taste so fucking good," he hissed against her.

Dahlia was nearly dizzy, chasing her high and reminding herself to breathe.

"Baby," he snapped. "Look at me."

She lifted her head as he licked up her inner thigh.

"I don't care how much you beg for me to be inside you. I'm going to make you come on my face until I'm satisfied."

Her mouth fell agape, and she was briefly terrified of what she had started.

"And keep your mouth open," he added.

She cried out as he brought his mouth to her again. He began moving in a slow vertical stroke that had all of her skin pebbling. Her whole body tensed, and she gasped as he plunged two fingers inside of her. He curled them forward, the cold silver of his signet ring nearly inside her. She would be his entirely — a Malfoy.

He kept working her. She felt the smirk of his lips as she began to shake. She tried to move her hips against him, but he refused to allow it. It was too good and all too intense.

"Draco, it's too-"

He lifted her higher to his mouth, and she felt nearly numb. She arched, gasping with release as it crashed into her. He moaned as she came, taking pleasure in watching her shake in bliss against his face. He slowed as she relaxed within his grasp. He glanced up to her face, his own reddened and lips swollen.

She smiled as her breathing evened, which wasn't acceptable to him.

He lowered his mouth to her again, eager to please.

She nearly jumped out of his arms, but he held her down with a tightened grip.

"Oh, fucking gods..." She whimpered.

"Say my name, Dahlia." He bit her thighs lightly, teasing her.

He lifted her hips again, pushing his tongue inside her as he rubbed his thumb against her. She cried out. It was the sweetest friction. He dropped her hips to the bed, his mouth never leaving her as he ran his hand up her stomach and beneath her bra. He cupped her breast and teased. He finally dragged his tongue higher over the sweetest spot. He spread her thighs even wider and worked his tongue against her as if he needed her release like his next breath.

Her breathing turned to desperate whimpers as her desire coiled tight. He sucked her hard into his mouth and groaned as if he had never tasted anything as good as her. Release barrelled through her as she called his name. She came so hard that it felt like every nerve in her was vibrating.

He towered over her and wiped his mouth arrogantly.

"Now fuck me," he ordered in a raspy voice.

Dahlia leaned up and pulled him onto the bed by his neck. She pinned him down as she climbed on top of him. He leaned back on his elbows, not offering to help as she brought herself down on his length slowly. In a long breath, she took the entirety of him. Draco's head fell back as he growled. She winced as she adjusted. He tightly inhaled as she began to move on top of him.

He watched her work with a smug expression.

She bit into her lip as it nearly hurt to take all of him like this. Draco leaned forward to find a better angle. He wrapped an arm around her waist and his other behind her bum. He lifted her up and down as he licked the sweat between her breasts. She ran her hands into his hair as they shared breaths for a long moment — as one soul.

His stormy eyes pierced hers; he would never ask her to close her eyes again. He wanted her to know how much he loved her — that he would die for her.

She moved harder for him, rougher. He smirked at the determination in her eyes, unbelieving of how lucky he was that she had finally chosen him. He squeezed her tightly against his chest. She gasped as the closeness created the right movement to bring her even more pleasure. She moved harder. Every inch of her muscles burned, but she couldn't stop.

"I want you to make a mess of me," she murmured into his mouth.

He nodded, her request lighting the final flame as he carried her over the edge as they slammed against each other. He threw her onto her back and pulled her against him. She moaned, low and nearly exhausted. At the sight of her arching for him, he pulled out. He helped her stroke him until he spilled onto her. He groaned as she watched with her mouth open. The notion that she wanted him to claim her so badly, to even be dripping in him, had his release stretching.

Dahlia fell back onto the bed and closed her eyes. Draco let his head fall back, staring up at the Gods as if to ask what he had done to deserve this. He was a prick, so surely this wasn't the work of karma.

A long moment passed before Dahlia interrupted his peace. "Draco?"

"What?" He was still breathless.

"I don't want to be covered in you anymore."

"Oh, fuck." He looked around for nothing, nearly forgetting he was a wizard. He came so hard he wasn't even sure he was human.

"I wish I could say I was sorry," he mumbled with a cocky grin. He waved a hand over her stomach, not wanting to think too hard about the physics of magic and where this piece of him went.

"You're brand new, darling," he sighed before passing over her clothes.

She dressed slowly, then reached for his tie and motioned for him to come closer. She wrapped it around his neck and attempted to tie it.

"How do you do this?" She finally asked.

"I don't," he laughed lowly. He waved his hand, and the tie quickly tightened around his neck. He loosened it a bit.

"Close your eyes," he whispered.

The bedroom around them began to crumble, and the walls melted as if they were only painted in oil. Dahlia squeezed her eyes shut as the Room of Requirement settled into its natural state.

Draco stepped back as Dahlia opened her eyes.

"Can we talk about what happened today in class?"

"What about today?" She grumbled.

"Your misery was obvious — even to those who don't share an interstellar soul bond. Did I upset you?" His concerned grey met hers as she tossed herself onto the sofa he had placed in front of the vanishing cabinet.

Dahlia shrugged, not wanting to stain their golden canvas with her black heartbreak. She worried when Draco's patience would run out and that it would no longer be acceptable to miss a ghost.

"I'm happy now," she sang, crossing her legs.

She pointed to a wine bottle with a quick raise of her brow, suggesting she was ready to end this conversation and guzzle it down.

He only leaned against the vanishing cabinet. "That's not an answer."

Dahlia's face fell as he pushed the conversation she was reluctant to have.

"I don't like when people whisper poorly about me, and there seemed to be a lot of that today with Theo's absence," she sighed.

Draco nodded once, placing his hands in his pockets pensively. It was his way of forcing her to elaborate further.

"It was just a bad day. That's all," she admitted.

He lifted his eyes to her. "I love you. I know you might miss him, and I can't fix that, but I do love you."

Dahlia shook her head with a grateful smile. The truth was missing; Theo wasn't anything new. She opened her mouth to admit how foolish today had made her feel instead, but Draco quickly spoke, shifting his weight nervously.

"What do you think he wanted with your father?"

Dahlia shook her head. She wondered if the question had plagued him all day since Xavier had admitted it during breakfast. "I truly have no idea. I could ask?"

Draco bit his lips into a thin line and quickly shook his head.

Dahlia lowered her eyes to her lap, fidgeting with her nails. The truth burned through her throat. "I saw him."

His head snapped towards her. "Theo? He was here?"

"At Grimmauld Place after I left with Harry. They took me to a charmed townhouse. Theo spoke to Xavier, who told him I was returning to Hogwarts. Apparently, he and Alexander are working for the Order, so he must have rightfully assumed I would be there."

"They wouldn't do that," Draco instinctively muttered.

He stiffened a bit. Dahlia could see his thoughts calculating as he averted his gaze for a moment. She wasn't sure if now was the best time to also admit that Alexander had tracked her down in the secret passageways. His eyes steeled as they landed on hers once more.

"Did anything happen between you two?"

Dahlia shook her head emphatically.

"No," she mumbled.

"I love you," she murmured more to herself as her gaze fell. It felt too intimate to admit she had finally come to terms with the fact that he wasn't who she believed him to be when they had seen each other. That day had felt like the final breath of their love — or the hope of it.

Draco nodded. It was now apparent just how boundless their relationship was despite their tied hearts. Draco craved clear lines and set boundaries. Unlike Theo, he didn't believe promises were flexible.

She quickly came clean. "He writes to me. We have a pair of enchanted journals."

He lit up with surprise. "Do you think that's a good idea, Dahlia?"

He kicked off the cabinet and stepped over her. Her stomach twisted as she looked up into his unreadable eyes.

"I asked him to write. I just want to know he's safe."

He bent down wordlessly to meet her at eye level. His silence was a knife that quickly had her spilling.

"I won't lie to you. He did cross a boundary with me the other morning. I didn't write back, though — well, in that manner. I just told him he should come back."

"Dahlia," he finally sighed. "I will admit, the thought of you writing to him makes me blindly jealous. I don't like it."

He took her hand and traced each finger. "I think you should focus on the good in your life that's here at Hogwarts. Your friends are here. I'm here. Dahlia, you can't fix some things. You aren't responsible for him."

She nodded, nearly wincing. Dahlia had always believed people could change if something or someone was deemed worthy enough to do so. Maybe she wasn't. But maybe she just hadn't tried hard enough, a small voice within her whispered.

"Don't make me share you," he whispered.

His eyes were defiant, teetering on the line of betrayal. "Because I won't."

— — — — — — — — —

[Monday, January 6th, 10:02PM]

I love you from here to your farthest star, Dahlia. I hope your first day of classes went well. I'm sorry to have missed it.

[Monday, January 6th, 11:46PM]

It was shit.

[Monday, January 6th, 11:48PM]

I'm sorry but know that I love and miss you.

[Tuesday, January 7th, 6:45 AM]

I hope today is infinitely better. Oh, and don't skip breakfast since I'm not there to smuggle you croissants when you get irritable from your sudden bouts of hunger.

[Tuesday, January 7th, 11:11PM]

Make a wish.

[Tuesday, January 7th, 11:13PM]

I don't believe in such things, but if I did, I would wish for you to return to Hogwarts.

[Tuesday, January 7th, 11:15PM]

I will in time. Please be patient. Again, I am sorry. I will make this right.

[Tuesday, January 7th, 11:48PM]

I love you, my Dahlia.

[Wednesday, January 8th, 7:04AM]

I hope you slept well. The sun only rises to set your dreams alight and to bring your restless stars peace.

[Wednesday, January 8th, 10:02PM]

I miss you. I can't wait to hold you again.

[Wednesday, January 8th, 10:10PM]

You haven't responded much. Is everything alright?

— — — — — — — — — —

"There's something I need to tell you," Dahlia whispered beneath the sheets of her bed. The moonlight shone through, somehow always managing to find his silver hair.

"Yes," Draco sighed with clear annoyance as he looked up from her bare stomach. He squeezed her hips with a tight breath before finding self-control.

"Alexander Nott tried to kill me the night I returned to Hogwarts," she admitted in a low voice.

"Alright." He lowered himself back down, determined to continue on with the task at hand.

"Alright? Draco!" She whispered harshly.

He rolled his eyes. "Is that supposed to shock me? You know I don't trust him."

He lifted her arm to inspect her skin. "And you're clearly unharmed. I felt your fear morph into murderous delight through the bond. I'm honestly sad I missed it."

"I damned his soul," she murmured with a shred of budding guilt.

"That's fucking brilliant, darling. Please don't commit your first murder without me," he whispered with a teasing smirk.

Dahlia tugged on his hair to keep his eyes up as he attempted to resume his trail of kisses down her stomach.

"Ow!" He squeezed her hip painfully tight in retaliation. "I'm more concerned that you are thinking of Alexander Nott before I fuck you, honestly."

She slapped his shoulder. "You know I have intrusive thoughts! I can't help it!"

Draco rubbed a frustrated hand across his face and then sighed. "If we are talking now, I guess now is the perfect time to tell you I'm quitting quidditch."

"What!" Dahlia squealed.

"I didn't want to tell you. I'm not sure why. I thought you might be disappointed in me."

She sat up on her elbows beneath the covers. "Why are you quitting?"

"To focus on mending the cabinet," he murmured.

She shook her head, running a hand through his messy hair. "You shouldn't have to quit something you love to do that."

"I'm running out of time, Dahlia. He's going to kill me if I don't."

"Then let me help you." She cupped his face, knowing it was traitorous to Juliet to promise such a thing. "I can help you."

"You shouldn't have to help me. I know I can mend it-"

"I know you can, too, but no one, and nothing, is going to take you from me. Remember what she told you? This time, it shall be."

He nodded with the determination to keep her at all costs. Their love wouldn't be lost to time once more. She pulled him up to her. His face hovered over hers a mere breath away. She glided her fingertips down his bare chest.

"Are we done talking now?" He whispered, pressing his forehead against hers. He exhaled as she took hold of him. She revealed a devilish smile as she pressed her hips up to his waist.

He brought a hand to her neck. He smirked as she released a shaky breath of anticipation. He looked into her eyes, tracing her thigh for a moment, before finally descending into her — demanding the universe to fall for their love in this lifetime.

— — — — — — — — — —

[Wednesday, January 8th, 11:46PM]

I miss you terribly. Worse than before. I hate knowing you are reading my words and so easily ignoring them.

[Thursday, January 9th, 2:11AM]

Have you forgotten about me so soon?

[Thursday, January 9th, 3:32AM]

Everything is wrong. So fucking wrong, and I just love you. I miss the sound of your heart when you sleep and tracing invisible letters on your skin.

— — — — — — — — —

The quidditch pitch was lifeless beneath the sea of rising grey clouds. They cast the entirety of the morning in a dreadful dreariness as they had for days on end.

Dahlia didn't mind the blackened skies. She understood the sun and its warming wind had no one here to kneel before any longer. Their golden prince with a forever summer smile had strayed.

She leaned her back onto the bench behind her as she sat between rows and stared into the empty expanse. Her heart beat alone out here, and perhaps in this quiet, she could fully tend to it. Finally, focus enough to find all its wounds and maybe even learn to heal them on her own.

The pitch was peace — until it wasn't.

"Aldair," a voice sighed.

Dahlia whipped her head around to find Harry in his training gear. She hadn't heard him approach. He slowly sat down next to her on the floor of the stands, pulling his knees awkwardly to his chest to fit between the rows as she did.

"We're on a last-name basis now, Potter?" She laughed softly.

"How do you do that exactly?" He asked, pointing to her crossed legs.

She shrugged. "I think all girls can do it." She paused to sigh. "Yet the patriarchy lives on."

Harry cracked a smile, which only led Dahlia to smile in return.

"Are you mad at me, Harry?" Dahlia sighed, staring out to the empty pitch.

He narrowed his eyes. "Oh, incredibly," he answered lightly.

"Out with it then," she sighed. "Why are you here? You don't have to be nice to me or even speak to me any longer. Our academically sanctioned playdates have come to a bittersweet end."

Harry scrunched his face, shifting uncomfortably in the small space. "Should I tell you the truth?"

Dahlia shook her head. "I quite liked our forced friendship, even though we both know I was shit to you."

She finally stole her gaze from the grey clouds to his honest eyes — they might have been the kindest she had ever truly known.

"I won't ever admit when I'm lying or telling truths, but I am sorry it has to be this way. I just love him too much."

She loved them all too much: Draco, Theo, and even her father, despite his betrayal. She left it for Harry to interpret how he wished.

"Protecting him is all that matters to me," she mumbled.

The weight of Theo's signet ring suddenly felt heavy in her closed fist. She had been tracing the etching all morning as if it were a puzzle that could solve how they had let it get to this point. Each inked word he wrote felt like a paper cut and a step farther in the wrong direction.

She couldn't respond and pretend like things would be fine. He didn't understand what he had done. She doubted he even knew what he was truly sorry for. Her foolish hope for him to be a better man and her growing resentment to see how he might add to the list of the ways he's wronged her kept her from closing the journal a final time.

Harry nodded slowly, ruminating on her words. Dahlia said nothing more.

After a long minute, he cleared his throat. "Theo asked me to be your friend."

Dahlia livened with an incredulous smile. "You two have sleepovers now at Grimmauld Place?" She teased.

He grimaced. Dahlia continued more seriously. "Harry, you should definitely reconsider his favors. I can promise they benefit him more than they do you."

"He was worried about you — not that I care how he feels." He paused awkwardly. "I'm sorry about what your father did."

"It's not okay," she mumbled. "I know it's polite to say I'm fine, but..."

She couldn't look at him.

"I know," he admitted.

"The first thing I wanted to do when I found out was tell my mum. I forget all the time that she's gone. Do you ever wish you could just have one more moment with them? Ask them for advice?"

Harry nodded, now understanding the desire to sit within the gloom of the empty pitch on occasion. "Sometimes I just want to tell them simple things. How I scored a goal or got a good grade on a test."

Dahlia nodded, looking out into the distance for a moment.

"How are you not terrified of him?" She whispered.

"Of Voldemort?" He furrowed his brow.

She nodded solemnly, then rested her cheek on her knees.

His face was written in disbelief as if the question was unthinkable. "Dahlia, I am."

"I wish I was brave like you," she admitted.

He knocked her shoulder. "Trust me, it's not all it's cracked up to be."

Dahlia smiled.

"It would be easier to be your friend if you didn't have feelings for Draco Malfoy," he added.

"I know," she sighed.

"Theo thinks it's-"

"I know...a curse." Dahlia shook her head. "It's not. He just can't make peace with it." She rubbed her cheek as her anxiety neared. "Why did Theo seek out the Order, anyway?"

Harry shrugged. "His brother most likely forced his hand, and he wanted us to help protect you."

Dahlia tilted her head as a new thought surfaced. "And why did Alexander Nott go to the Order?"

"Lupin said he was a good man — doesn't share his family's values. I'm not entirely sure how they know each other. He said Alex had returned home after years of hunting dark wizards and rare beasts. He was desperate for help, but Lupin didn't elaborate. He trusted him enough to bring him close to the Order."

"And you trust Lupin?" She quickly fired.

"Fully." He nodded without hesitation.

She bit her cheek before admitting a sliver of truth. "Alexander Nott wants me dead."

He narrowed his eyes, nearly bewildered. He reasoned before responding. "I think a lot of people might want you dead, regardless of beliefs. You saw how the Order reacted when you offered to help...they don't understand, and It's less of a risk to rid the world of something that could be potentially harmful than to take a chance and embrace it."

Dahlia smiled as she fiddled with Theo's ring. "That's very wise, Harry."

She laughed softly.

"I'm not," he shook his head. "Hermione is fascinated with seers now. She'd never approach you, but I know the curiosity is killing her. She'd love to see what you're capable of."

Dahlia slowly smirked. "I think that can be arranged if you're open to it?"

Harry grinned with a nod. "But we aren't friends."

"No," she laughed. "Most definitely not."

Harry left her in the quidditch stands with nothing but the healing wind and painful silence.

Theo had wanted to protect her. He had gone to the Order to keep her out of harm's way and had enlisted Harry in his clean-up crew for the mess he had left behind.

He knew how deep the wound he had inflicted would be. He was always calculating and planning recklessly. He often overlooked the simplest of caveats. He hadn't understood that she didn't need protection. She had only needed someone to truly believe in her in order to protect herself.

— — — — — — — — —

[Thursday, January 9th, 8:11PM]

Do the stars ever remind you how much I love you, like I asked?

[Thursday, January 9th, 10:46PM]

I wish you would write to me, Dahlia, like we used to. I want nothing more than to read about your day and imagine your laugh. I hate only having these fucking pleasantries and half answers. Just give me something real, Dahlia. I love you endlessly, and you said nevertheless. I know you're still upset with me, and I'm sorry.

[Thursday, January 9th, 10:50PM]

Yes, they do. I tell them to save their whispers.