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CHAPTER 54

Unsurprised, I find myself in Bellatrix's room. As I come to a stop, I lose my balance, stumble to my right, and catch myself on the sofa before the fire where my mum currently sits, watching me with an intense look of confusion and curiosity, and perhaps maybe amusement. Brain still foggy, I focus my attention on her as best I can while she stands and comes around the sofa toward me. Once close enough, I throw my arms around her middle and allow myself to feel comforted by her embrace. "Has something else happened?" she asks.

"No—no, I just . . ." I take a step back from her. "I'm sorry. I just—"

"Don't apologize," she quickly says.

I nod, not really wanting to get into my reasons for showing up here. Bellatrix obviously can never know that the Slytherin friend I told her about was a Muggle-born girl I just kissed; a sneaky suspicion tells me she would not be too pleased by that information and might indeed lose her temper. "I had to leave my friend's. She had some things she had to do." Part of me feels bad for lying to her, but telling her the truth would risk Zoe's life and can therefore never happen. Bellatrix can never know anything about Zoe. "Would it still be possible for me to stay at the cottage?"

"You're free to stay here if you'd like."

A wide smile comes to my face, my eyelids closing a little. "Brilliant. Yeah, I'll do that. But I'll have to leave in the morning."

"Well, we at least have the rest of this evening." Bellatrix takes my face in her hands and watches me for a moment. "Are you drunk? I can smell the alcohol on you, Aurelia."

"Mm-hmm, yes, I do think so." I grin up at her. "But we still have the evening together. And I'm an adult, so you can't be mad at me."

From the expression on her face, she seems to have found this humorous, and my heart lightens.

The rest of this evening turns out to be roughly an hour—during which she forces me to drink two glasses of water—before I call it quits and ask to go to bed. Bellatrix obliges, and I fall asleep in my mother's arms that night, hating myself for hurting Fred, for kissing Zoe, and for allowing myself to grow closer to my mum when I know that it will only cause me pain later.

I wake the next morning to find Bellatrix still asleep next to me, looking so peaceful I cannot help but watch her for a while. Was she this peaceful before taking the Dark Mark, or was she always stressed and bothered about something?

Sometime later, she opens her eyes and slowly smiles at me. "How long have you been awake?" she mumbles.

"Not long," I say, my heart sinking. "I have to leave."

Bellatrix nods, and we both crawl out of warm sheets.

I say goodbye to both her and Narcissa before leaving for Hogwarts.

I manage to avoid Christopher on the train, instead choosing to sit in a compartment with some Hufflepuff third-years who do not question me and do not talk to me, and when I arrive back at the castle, I also manage to avoid the rest of my friends—every last one of them. There is only one person I want to speak with right now, and that is Draco. So, when I walk into the common room, I breathe a quiet sigh of relief that he is in here at a table doing what appears to be homework. I storm over to him and grab the sleeve of his robes.

"Back off, Rodgers!" Crabbe growls.

"I need to speak with Draco. Draco, come with me." He doesn't argue as I pull him from his chair and out of the Slytherin Dungeon.

"What's this about?" he asks quietly. "Has something happened?"

"A lot has happened, but nothing that matters to you right now."

"Where are we going?"

"To the Room of Requirement. You owe me so many explanations, and there are some things you might enjoy hearing right about now."

"Charlotte—"

"Shut up, Draco. Don't argue with me. You're taking me to the Room of Requirement, and you're going to show my how far along everything is, got it?"

"Why are you so—"

"Time is running short, Draco, and I cannot lose you because you are failing. I don't care what it means for me, you will not fail. And if you do fail, it will be in a way that is not your own fault. Voldemort will not be able to find a way to blame it on you, yeah? But you need to tell me exactly what you're doing. And then you need to tell Snape what—"

"I will not tell him."

"You could die!" I hiss as we reach the seventh floor. "Do you really expect me to stand by and let that happen to someone I care about? I can't keep losing people!"

Draco casts me a sad glance. "Weasley didn't take things well, did he?"

"What—that's not—it doesn't matter."

The door to the Come and Go Room opens, and Draco and I step inside. "It's this way." He takes the lead and ushers me to the Vanishing Cabinet.

"How far along have you come since the last time you showed me?"

He seems almost reluctant to answer my question, but after just a delayed second, he says, "I can get things through to the other one, but I don't believe it's ready for something as large as a human, as the Death Eaters."

"How much longer do you think it'll be?"

His eyes scan over the cabinet. "I can't be sure. Not much longer now." He doesn't sound enthusiastic, as most would be if their mission was soon to be accomplished. He takes a step away and pulls a chair from behind a large pile of junk. "Could you Transfigure this into a creature of some sort?"

"I thought you could—"

"I can, but . . . not right now."

He doesn't have the energy, I realize. "Let me give you more—"

"No."

"Draco—"

"I will not argue this, Charlotte."

I nod. "Fine." I point my wand at the wooden chair. "You'd better be ready." With a wave of my wand, the chair becomes a squealing pig that immediately tries to get away from us. Just before it disappears from view into the maze of rubbish surrounding us, Draco manages to dive onto it and catch it.

I cast the Body-Bind Curse at the pig, and once it stops struggling, Draco throws it into the Cabinet. "Harmonia Nectere Passus," he recites. The pig's squeals silence. A moment later, he opens the Cabinet to reveal why the squealing disappeared: the pig is gone.

"Where is it?"

"Borgin and Burkes," he says, closing the door back. He pulls up two chairs, and we both sit down. "There's someone almost constantly watching the other side of the Cabinet. Goyle usually stands guard."

"He stands out there the whole time?"

"Yeah. With the Polyjuice Potion."

"I've never had any use for it."

"Neither have I, really, until this year."

"You seem confident you'll succeed. That's a good start, I suppose."

"I have to be, if not I'll . . ." He swallows. "Someone's going to die this year . . . and I'm the only one who determines who that is: me or Dumbledore."

"I understand what you're going through."

"I know you do. And I hate to admit it, but before this I never understood what kind of pressure you were under. I always acted like I did, but . . . now I really do."

I offer him a weak smile. "That's fine. No one completely knows what I'm facing."

"I know it's not my place, Charlotte—it's still fine if I call you that, right, you don't go by Aurelia now?"

"Only Mum is allowed to call me that."

He almost smiles. "I know it's not my place, but could I ask something of you?"

"Sure. I can't make any promises, but I'll do my best to try."

He closes his eyes. "Don't . . . don't give . . . don't go willingly." His gray eyes meet my blue ones. "Don't go willingly."

"I wasn't planning on it."

"Make sure he knows you're against this. Harm his soul that much more . . . you know . . . him forcing . . ."

"Draco," I take his hand, "Voldemort"—he flinches—"will have to contend with all the fight I can muster. I'll never willingly give myself to him." I refuse to believe that Voldemort will use magic because I cannot let myself hope. Nothing good ever comes from me hoping. And Snape hasn't gotten back to me about that, so I'm afraid he doesn't have the heart to tell me what he learned. Somehow, that makes the situation even worse. There must be a reason he has not informed me about the Dark Lord's methods.

"I don't know how you do it."

Neither of us says anything for a few minutes.

"Weasley didn't take it well?"

I swallow down the lump in my throat. "How did you know I was even planning on telling him?"

"Like you said, time's running short. And you were staying with him—what happened?"

I shrug. "He was mad I lied to him. He was mad I told—others—without telling him. He said I betrayed him."

Draco scoffs. "Filthy blood traitor. As if you wanted to do any of that. Where did you go?"

"The first night I went to Mum. Then I went to stay with Zoe Accrington."

"You're still in touch with her?"

I debate telling him what happened before deciding against it. He might be more trustworthy than Bellatrix in regard to Zoe's safety, but confessing this to him still feels risky. "Yeah."

"You were with her until today?"

"Until last night." I stop talking, and he seems to pick up my less-than-happy attitude.

He nods again, looking curious but unwilling to ask whatever is on his mind. "So, what happened between you and Zabini at the Christmas party?"

"I know it won't mean much to you, but he mocked Fred. And looking back, I almost wish I hadn't reacted that way, you know? Now that I know how easily Fred could turn against me. Not that I deserved any better considering—"

"You deserved better, Charlotte."

"I lied to him, and I have to face the consequences for my actions."

"I guess he made you happy for a time, and with all you've been through and with what you're going through and will go through, you deserve happiness. Whether that's with a blood traitor, a half-blood, or a Mudblood for that matter."

I smile at him. "Since when do you not care about the blood status?"

"I do care. I'll never be caught dead with a blood traitor or a Mudblood or a half-blood, but if that's what you want, I won't try to stop you. You deserve to be happy. I . . . I want you to be happy. I won't like it, but I won't try to stop you. It's not my place."

Tears fill my eyes, and I reach over and squeeze his forearm. "Thank you, Draco." I bite back the tears and swallow down the lump in my throat. "Do you not consider Astoria to be a blood traitor?"

He shrugs. "Not really. She has a group of friends at Hogwarts. What does that mean in the real world?"

I furrow my brow at him, knowing that she does not share his ideologies. I don't say this to him though. "You'd actually be okay with me being with a Muggle-born? You mean that?"

"I won't pretend to like it, or Accrington for that matter, but—"

"I don't—"

"Don't lie to me, Charlotte. I don't care if you're attracted to a Mudblood—I mean, your mother and the Dark Lord and the rest of the Death Eaters might—but I don't. I just want you to be happy."

"Even if it disgraces the family?"

"Who's to say you'll ever be allowed to be a Lestrange? If you live your life as Charlotte Rodgers, why should any Malfoy care who you're with? Besides, Andromeda already disgraced the family."

A loud thud comes from the Vanishing Cabinet, and we both turn to it. "I think it's been sent back," he says. We stand and walk to the Cabinet. Draco opens the door, and we find a dead pig. "It's becoming stronger—the connection, I mean."

"Did the Cabinet kill the pig?" I ask stupidly.

"No, that's whoever is on the other side."

"Who is it?"

"Either Borgin or one of the other Death Eaters." He pulls the dead creature out of the Cabinet and sets it on the floor. "Could you change it back into the chair? It might start to smell."

"Sure." But the back of the chair is cracked and falls onto the floor. "Well . . ."

He shrugs.

"Rosmerta doesn't know what you did to her," I say suddenly. "She has no clue."

"How do you know that?"

"I spent almost every day of the break helping her at the Three Broomsticks—Zoe works there, you know, and I was spending time with her."

A feeble smile comes to his lips. "She doesn't know?"

I shake my head. "You're in the clear. You're fine."

He closes his eyes and takes me into his arms. "Thank you."

"Just don't do anything like that again, yeah?" He looks away. "Draco? What aren't you telling me?"

He swallows. "She's been under the Imperius Curse."

"Yours?"

He doesn't answer.

"Draco—"

"It's temporary and necessary. I won't speak of it anymore, so let it go."

I nod, growing steadily more uncomfortable but not willing to delve too far into this because I simply do not have the strength.

We leave the Room of Requirement and head back down to the Slytherin Dungeon, but instead of entering the common room with him, I change direction to go to Snape's office and offer Draco a quiet promise not to tell Snape anything about the Cabinet.

"We don't have much time, do we?" I ask once the door to Snape's office is closed.

"Until what?" he replies airily, not even giving me the courtesy of glancing up at me.

"Until Draco—until the Dumbledore thing happens."

He sighs. "I fear you might be correct."

"Where do you stand on this, Professor? How are you going to side when the Death Eaters come a-knocking? And what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to act when Death Eaters find their way to Hogwarts and attack? What am I supposed to do?"

He watches me closely. "I will stand on the side I believe in the most. And you—"

"Are you purposely being vague? What do you even mean by that?"

"And you will stay by my side or hidden in my office while the Death Eaters are here unless directed otherwise."

"So you're saying I won't be able to try to stop anything from happening? I'm a part of the Order for a reason, yeah? Am I supposed to just let the Death Eaters roam wild through Hogwarts on a mission to murder Professor Dumbledore? Am I not supposed to alert Professor McGonagall to the danger at hand? How am I supposed to do that?"

"With the understanding that otherwise not only will you be severely punished but also your cousin and I might both be killed, not to mention the fact that many of your friends, Professor McGonagall included, could very well be held accountable for turning you against the Dark Lord. How long do you think those first-years will last in a battle against the Death Eaters? How long will the Greengrass sisters or Sparkford hold out against someone as ruthless as your mother? And suppose word spreads about how close you are with the Weasleys, what happens to them? What happens to young Mr. Weasley if the Dark Lord discovers you bestowed your affections upon—"

"All right, I get it," I say, leaning back heavily against the chair. "I have to remain quiet, in your office, not informing the Order, while the Death Eaters enter Hogwarts and hunt down Professor Dumbledore to murder him."

"Precisely."

"How can you be all right with that? How does that make any sense in the grand scheme of things? How does it make sense for Professor Dumbledore to die?" Specifically, how can he be so blasé about Dumbledore's death when he knows what that means for me? Does he not care what will happen to me if Dumbledore is dead?

"You think Professor Dumbledore incapable of protecting himself?"

"Against a horde of Death Eaters with no one to help him? How long can he possibly last now with his hand the way it is?"

"Whoever said there would be no one to help him?"

I grimace.

"The wizard in charge has everything under control, and that's all you need to know about the situation—if and when it arises. But that all falls back onto whether or not your dear cousin Draco is able to fulfill his duty to the Dark Lord. I don't believe you've told me how he intends on bringing the Death Eaters into the castle. Interested in sharing what you know?"

"Not right now, but he's making progress." A cold hand grips my heart, and my voice comes out much quieter than intended when I ask, "Will . . . will you be safe when the Death Eaters show up?"

His brow furrows in confusion, his eyes roving over my face as if looking for some sign that I'm joking. "Why wouldn't I be?"

I shrug. "I just—I saw you almost die once this year already, and I . . . I don't need to see that again."

His expression softens to a combination of confusion and perhaps happiness. How long as it been since he's had anyone concerned for his safety? "I have no fears for my welfare when the Death Eaters arrive."

I nod, doing my best to accept this.

I leave his office not long after—he does nothing to prevent me from escaping—and make my way to the common room where I sit with my friends and give a falsely cheery account of how my Easter holidays went. Daphne and Astoria both seem vaguely suspicious, but neither does anything to make the rest of the students around me question anything I say.

It's been two weeks since the Easter holidays, and I feel empty inside. Not because of Fred, though that probably does have something to do with it, but because of my lack of communication with the world outside of Hogwarts. Rather than receiving nearly two letters a week, I receive none. I don't know how Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes is going, and I don't know what's going on with Zoe at the Three Broomsticks.

I need to contact Zoe. I'm going crazy without talking to her.

I'd reach out to Fred, but he wants nothing to do with me. Because I'm a liar he knows he can't trust.

Astoria catches me walking alone to the Great Hall for breakfast. "You need to owl them," she says, sliding her arm through mine.

"Who?" I ask, unable to look at her but actually enjoying her kindness.

"Fred and Zoe. You haven't been getting letters, which only makes me think you've been ignoring them—don't argue, I know how you can be. Owl them."

"Fred and I broke up." She tenses. "It's no big deal. And Zoe . . . it's complicated."

She glances at me like she wants to say something, but then she looks away and says, "So owl her and un-complicate it."

I smile in spite of myself but refuse to answer as we take our seats at the Slytherin table. Heat rises to my face when the owls arrive and a small familiar one drop a letter on the plate in front of me. I glance over at Astoria and shrug at her grin.

Once breakfast is over, I retreat straight to my dormitory and sit down on my bed, crossing my legs beneath me. With a loud sigh, I close the curtain around my bed and rip open the letter.

Dear Charlotte,

I don't even know what to say. Honestly, I don't know where to begin. What I really want to

Charlotte, I'm really sorry.

She has no reason to apologize to me. If anyone should be apologizing, I should be. I'm the one who ran away instead of talking things through, not Zoe. I'm the one who kissed her, not the other way around. This is my fault, not hers. And I haven't even had the decency to write her and apologize.

I knew you had just ended things with the Gryf with Fred and I knew you were vulnerable and yet I let us get into a position that I thought might happen. It's my fault, it's all my fault, and I'm sorry.

I should have just made a place for you to sleep on the sofa. I should have never let us drink with Rosmerta that night. Perhaps things would've been different had I prevented this situation entirely. I'm sorry. I knew you were hurting. I should have known better than to let any of this happen in the first place because of course you wouldn't have been ready after losing Fred just days before and now I just

God, Charlotte, I'm sorry. Please don't hate me. I don't think I could handle knowing you were angry with me. I'll accept full responsibility if you will just forgive me and promise me we can still be friends and still write to one another. I would miss you so much if Please don't cut me off, Charlotte, please don't cut me out of your life because I ne because I Just please don't get rid of me.

L Sinc

Zoe

P.S. You know what, fuck it. Marcus Aurelius says: "Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart." I've been a coward for this past week while I tried to find a way to not write this letter, but I'm done with that now. I'm just gonna come right out and say it. I'm just. I'm just gonna come right out and

P.P.S. It's been a couple of days, but I still can't write it down or even send this letter. It's been sitting on my kitchen table, but I'm afraid. I want you to know that I feel the exact You weren't alone in thinking that Had you not been hurting from Fred, I wouldn't have stopped.

P.P.P.S. It's been another whole week and I still can't bring myself to write it down. I'm such a coward. But these two weeks have been a living hell, knowing that no letter from you was on its way, and I can't live like this anymore. I just cannot do it anymore, and I had to let you know how I feel. I wish I could tell you all this in person, yet here we are. I'm afraid I won't have the chance to see you again until June when the term ends, and I can't wait that long. Fate brought us together, and it's about time I come out and say it. I am in love with you, and I think I have been for a while. It happened during our study sessions, I think. I don't know. Maybe it was those few days you spent at Grimmauld with me. I don't know. You did nothing wrong; I'm not upset with and won't be upset with you. And you don't have to feel the same way toward me because I know your feelings toward me can be really confusing, especially since you've lost Fred and are struggling with that right now. But I'm tired of keeping it a secret. I thought you should know. Do with that information what you will.

I fold the letter up and lean back against headboard, unsure what to do. Yes, my feelings are confusing, and yes, I'm hurting because of Fred. But do I want Fred back, or do I want Zoe? Or do I want someone else entirely? Or do I just want to be alone, wallowing for a while? Do I want a friend for when I inevitably face Voldemort? Of course I want a friend. I don't think I want a relationship, though, because that's too much for me to handle. I don't have the strength.