CHAPTER 56

I almost don't even care when April fades into May, that the days are slipping by and leading me closer and closer to Voldemort. Almost. I went against my initial plans to never look at a calendar and instead now have one with the dreaded countdown. Every morning, I mark a day off and steel myself, taking slow breaths to calm down. It now seems impossible not to have a calendar despite my past fears of looking at one; my brain has some incessant need to see my future slipping away, to not be blindsided when suddenly July is here. It's probably better to let myself brace for it rather than choosing to be willfully ignorant.

Zoe is more than willing to read about my woes when I write to her, and she always tries to make sure that I'm doing as well as possible. That makes the entire ordeal feel almost bearable.

Narcissa has written to me a handful of times to talk about my N.E.W.T.-level Charms class. While that almost feels like an excuse to write to me, that fact doesn't diminish the joy I feel whenever her letter arrives and our conversation about the subject continues.

My correspondence with Bellatrix is more or less the same as it was: short letters that don't say much lest they are intercepted and we are discovered. We discuss cooking and playing cards but not much of substance. It's safer that way, which I can accept, but part of me wishes we could talk more openly like we do when we're together in person.

Snape doesn't offer much encouragement about my duty to Voldemort—probably because I strongly dislike speaking with him about it. Considering how he has not yet given me an answer about Voldemort's methods, the answer probably means nothing good for me; adding in the conversation that Narcissa and Bellatrix tried to have with me the other day only serves as more proof that magic will not be the method. Even my Occlumency lessons with Snape have become strictly about Occlumency. We don't really talk about anything anymore. It'd be a lie to say that I don't miss talking with him about the unimportant stuff, but I'm usually the one who initiates that, which I just don't feel like doing at the moment. Part of me wonders whether he misses our conversations too.

It's become a routine for me to go to McGonagall's office not just for our Conjuration lessons anymore. The lessons grow shorter even though my time spent in her office grows longer, and I don't even care that McGonagall probably only listens to me and tries to reassure me because she pities me. Whatever her reasoning for seeming to care about me doesn't matter; I'm willing to accept it either way.

McGonagall and I have discussed the idea of my going into hiding, which always manages to bring a smile to my face (because I can just see myself sitting in some little house protected by the Fidelius Charm, jumping at every small noise I hear, falling asleep each night clutching my wand to my chest, and almost catching the place ablaze with every meal I try to prepare for myself). Besides, as wonderful an idea as escaping my fate might be, such a dream is impossible for several reasons.

One, Snape would undoubtedly be blamed for my disappearance. Voldemort would hold him accountable for letting me disappear and would most likely kill him for such a betrayal. The idea of Snape dying for me is incomprehensible to me—I would be unable to live with myself if he was killed because of me. Not only that, but Snape is essential in the battle against Voldemort. As a double agent for Dumbledore, he is the only one who can truly discover Voldemort's plans and alert the Order. Snape simply must live.

Two, I would most likely never be able to see McGonagall or Zoe again if I were to go on the run. Nor would I be able to see Andromeda or Tonks again, and though I never really get to see them much now, losing any opportunity to do so saddens me. For some reason, they are important to me, and I don't want to lose them. Especially Andromeda. And sure, while I could use my Metamorphmagus skills to hide away and still be able to be with all the people I care about, Snape would still be in danger, and we need him to end this war. Without him, we have no hope of defeating Voldemort at all.

Finally, I've grown accustomed to having access to food, shelter, and warmth whenever I desire or need. How could I possibly go back to just surviving when I have finally been able to live comfortably? Even at Spinner's End, where food had to be cooked or stolen rather than delivered by house-elves, life was so much easier than when on the run. My life is better now, and I cannot return how things were before.

Looking back, I'm quite ashamed to have once thought Snape was nothing more than a Death Eater. I should have known that he was always more than just that. I mean, Dumbledore trusts him completely, so how could I have been so foolish as to think Snape was anything other than loyal to the Order?

I am now absolutely certain that, if I were to put my life in his hands, Snape would never turn me over to the Dark Lord or harm me in any way. I doubt if he would ever even betray me. And this is the exact reason why I'm on my way to his office right now—I have to know if he's spoken with Voldemort about the methods of this child's conception. I've been putting it off, which he's likely been doing as well considering he's shared no information with me, so now I'm going to make us both confront it.

Before I can reach his office, someone grabs my arm and spins me back around to face them. And of course it's Draco, because who else would it be? "It's not going to work!" he breathes. "It's not going to work, and he's going to kill me!"

"Draco—"

"No, Charlotte, I'm going to die!"

I huff loudly. "Draco, I don't have time to deal with this right now. Don't you realize that I, too, have things on my plate? Don't you realize that I'm facing things as well? I can't comfort you because I can hardly keep myself together as it is right now, all right?" I have to speak with Snape. I have to learn how my duty will be fulfilled. Draco can wait.

"Charlotte—"

"Draco, please! I can't deal with this right now." I storm away from him and burst into Snape's office. Snape glances at me as I take the seat in front of his desk, but he doesn't say a word. I wait just a moment before saying, "I'm trying to make sure that Draco doesn't follow me in here."

Snape still doesn't reply.

"He thinks he's going to die."

This catches his attention, and he finally turns his full attention to me. "You were just speaking with him?"

"In the corridor, yeah, but I told him I couldn't help him because—well, because I can't deal with his issues right now when I have so many of my own," I say. "Speaking of which, have you heard from Vol—the Dark Lord . . . about the method he'll use?"

Snape straightens in his chair. "I've spoken with him, but he hasn't answered me. He prefers to speak to you about that himself." I flinch, and his gaze turns sad. "As for Malfoy, where is he now? What did he say to you?"

"I left him in the corridor. He said that he was going to die because it wouldn't work."

"What wouldn't work?"

I sigh, supposing it's probably been long enough. Snape needs to be aware of what Draco is attempting to do. "The Vanishing Cabinet."

His jaw clenches. "In the Room of Requirement, I presume?"

"You have to let him succeed or fail repairing it by himself. Do not intervene. I just . . . you need to know. I thought you needed to know."

Snape stands to his feet. "You're coming with me."

"And where are we going?"

"To find your cousin. I need to have a word with him, and you're the only person who will be able to convince him to speak with me. Currently, he is less than reasonable about my assisting him."

"But—"

"Do not argue, Rodgers." He walks toward me and stops just before me. "Stand up. You're coming with me."

"That's not—"

"Charlotte."

I follow him from his office, and he leads me to the stairs. "I'm assuming we're heading up to the Room of Requirement?"

He raises an eyebrow at me. "Do you think he'd be in there right now?"

"So we're searching aimlessly?"

"Do you know where he usually goes in times like this?"

"I have no idea."

"Then, yes, we will be searching aimlessly."

"No splitting up to cover more ground?"

"If I didn't need you here when I find Draco, I would have left you in my office. But I need you to help me talk some sense into him, which means you must be with me when I find him."

I fall silent after that and walk alongside him through the castle. Not once do we attempt to speak again, which doesn't disappoint me in the slightest. My issues with Voldemort's method of impregnating me were shunted to the side so Snape could confront Draco, and though I don't know what to say to him right now, I'm frustrated with him—both Snape and Draco—and any words between Snape and me would be cold and harsh given my increasing frustration. It's like Draco's problems with his mission are the only things that matter right now, and that doesn't sit well with me because mine will be hell.

"He'll speak with you, most likely, at the beginning of the holiday," Snape says as we turn onto the sixth floor, as if he can read my mind.

"Is it necessary to talk about that right now?" He didn't want to discuss it any further before this walk or on any of the lower levels, and I simply refuse to speak with him about it now when there is a risk of someone overhearing.

"If he decides the worst, I—"

"MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!"

Snape does not so much as glance at me before barking out a command for me to stay where I am and running off toward the sound of the scream.

Despite my desperation to follow him, I am well enough acquainted with him to know that it would be dangerous to disobey a frantic order such as the one he just gave me. A few minutes later, each spent with me pacing back and forth for Snape's return, I see the professor exiting the bathroom, someone hanging on his arm and using Snape for support. My heart plummets when I realize that it's Draco who can hardly stand without Snape's help, and I dash over the pair of them, calling out my cousin's name, begging for him to be all right and to not leave me like this.

"Run to the hospital wing and tell Madam Pomfrey that Draco is severely injured. Hurry."

I don't hesitate for a moment before sprinting off to the hospital wing where I slide to a stop and throw the door open. "Madam Pomfrey!"

She immediately looks up, her face anxious, and asks what's happened.

"It's Draco Malfoy—he's—he's hurt. Professor Snape is bringing him here."

The nurse instantly begins bustling around the room, and by the time she's got a bed ready for Draco and potions ready to administer, Snape enters the hospital wing, still supporting my dear cousin whom I could currently slap for no doubt doing something stupid to get himself in this situation.

Madam Pomfrey doesn't question Snape when he places Draco on the bed. I follow Snape to the door. "Wait in my office," he says in a quiet voice. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

I open my mouth to argue, but Snape's grimace silences me. I start toward his office, paying no attention to the passersby who give me strange glances due to the undoubtedly disheveled and panicked look about me. None of that matters though because all I care about is finding out what happened to Draco.

I'm surprised I have not worn a path in the stone floor of Snape's office it takes him so long to arrive. "What happened?" I ask before he even has a chance to close the door behind him.

He looks at me gravely, a small sigh in his voice when he says, "Sectumsempra."

"What? The spell . . . the spell you taught me to use to . . . to kill someone?"

"Yes." He lowers himself into his chair and pinches the bridge of his nose. "And someone used the spell against Malfoy."

"Who—how—I thought you created that spell!"

"I did."

"Then . . . how could someone else know about it?"

"I wrote it down in an old textbook. Someone has been using said textbook."

"Who?"

"I do not believe he intended to harm Mr. Malfoy as he did. In fact, I doubt if he knew at all what the spell—"

"Who?"

Snape waves his wand at the door before replying, "Potter." Rage surges through me, and I don't have a chance to storm out of the room and attack Harry for nearly killing Draco because Snape quickly says, "You won't be able to leave the room."

"Unlock—"

"Not until you calm down, Charlotte. Potter did not mean to harm Draco."

"He could have killed him! That can't go unpunished! He's been spying on Draco this whole year! He did this on purpose!"

"Take a seat. You need to calm down."

"But—"

"Sit down."

I obey him and take the seat across from him, then take a breath and brace myself. "Will Draco be okay?"

"He'll survive, if that's what you're asking."

"I don't understand," I whisper, more to myself than to Snape. "I don't understand why Harry would try killing Draco. I know he—he's had it out for Draco all year. But a murderer?"

"The spell is not exactly taught anywhere, is it? I doubt Potter knew what the spell did, and I don't believe he has it in him to kill someone."

I lean back in the chair and cover my face with my hands. Draco could have died, and I was griping about his mission having more emphasis right now than mine. I could have lost Draco, one of my only allies at Malfoy Manor, and my last thoughts of him would have been me complaining about him, my last words to him would have been me telling him that I couldn't deal with him right now.

There's a small tap on my shin, and I open my eyes, my vision blurry for a moment before it adjusts. Snape is leaning against his desk, his arms crossed, his foot tapping my leg again. "You need to wake up, Charlotte. You've been in here long enough."

"What time is it?" I ask groggily.

"Ten minutes until curfew."

I sigh and force myself to my feet. "Well, thanks, I guess, Professor."

He offers me a slight nod.

Astoria ambushes me the moment I walk through the doors to the common room. "Draco was attacked, wasn't he? He's in the hospital wing, but Pomfrey isn't letting anyone see him right now. Do you know what happened? You've been in Snape's office for a while. He wouldn't let anyone else in. Charlotte, do you know what's happened to him?"

"He'll be fine." I glance over at the first-years and Grant. "But right now probably isn't the best time to talk about it." She nods, and together we join our group of friends.

"Charlotte, my Transfiguration essays are receiving some of the highest marks in the class," Julia informs me the moment I sit down.

"Shut up, Julia," Christopher groans.

Ella grins. "He's a bit jealous."

"I am not," he argues. "I just . . ." He huffs and changes the subject. "Did any of you hear about Malfoy?"

Astoria rests her chin on her hand but remains quiet throughout the discussion of Draco and all the rumors surrounding what happened to him. The first-years do not remain in the common room for long, and they are followed out shortly by Grant and even Daphne. Astoria looks over at me, and I nod my head toward the sofa by the fire. Once we're seated comfortably, I say, "Professor Snape says he'll be fine. As does Madam Pomfrey. He was attacked, but Snape doesn't think it was done on purpose. The attacker didn't know what the spell did. I can't really tell you much beyond that. You don't need to worry about him."

"You were in Snape's office most of the evening, pretty much since the very moment after the attack until you arrived back in here. Care to explain why?"

"Snape wanted to assure me that Draco was fine, and while I was sitting there trying to process it all, I fell asleep. He let me stay that way until nearly curfew."

She looks around the room before lowering her voice and asking, "The two of you are oddly close. He wouldn't let any other student sleep in his office like that. What's different about you?"

I shrug. "We're kindred spirits—we have a lot of similar life experiences, so he pities me."

Astoria falls quiet. Then, a short time later, she says, "You've seemed happier since you got your Apparating license, since that day in Hogsmeade. Is it safe to assume that passing your Apparition Test is not what perked up your spirits?"

I smile in spite of myself, then take a look around the common room to ensure that not too many people are around right now to hear me. "It definitely wasn't the Apparating Test."

She grins and pulls her legs under her. "Tell me more. Does it have anything to do with a girl named Zoe?"

"Yes. We worked everything out. Everything's fine now." I tap my fingers against my thigh. "I'm happy she's back in my life." I shrug. "She makes me happy."

"And you deserve happiness, Charlotte."

Though tempted to skip class to go check on Draco, I know that will never go over well, so I wait until my final class of the day ends before making my way to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey allows me to enter but says I must not stay more than half an hour. As that is half an hour more than I had before, I do not argue. Instead, I give her a grateful smile and cross the room to my cousin who is not even awake. I sigh and sit down next to him.

"Draco, I'm sorry," I whisper to his unconscious body. "If I had just listened to you, perhaps you wouldn't have been in that bathroom. Perhaps this wouldn't have happened to you. When you wake up, I promise I will not abandon you like that again." That might not be entirely true but oh well. He'll understand if I have to put myself first when the time comes, and hopefully he won't be upset about that.

"Please don't hate me, Draco. Please wake up soon. Snape and I fear we don't have much time before this comes to an end one way or another," I say softly. "The term is almost over."

Madam Pomfrey exits the storeroom and takes a seat on the far side of the room.

"In other news," I say, a smile on my face, "Astoria is very worried about you. If you don't wake up for me, wake up for her. Oh, and you should be glad to know that Harry's detention will prevent him from playing Quidditch." I don't know what else to say to him, and Madam Pomfrey saves me by telling me it's time to leave. I do so without argument.

Then I retreat the Slytherin Dungeon to write a letter to Zoe to reply to the one I received yesterday but have not yet answered. I sit down at a table, take out paper and ink and a quill, and start my response.

I'm not even a paragraph into the letter when I see Ella come down the steps in tracksuit pants and an overly large shirt, her face pale, dark rings around her eyes. "Charlotte?" she croaks.

"Are you ill?" She nods and sits down across from me. "Would you like me to walk with you to Pomfrey?"

"Not yet. I'll wait and see if it gets worse."

"It seems pretty bad right now."

She smiles lightheartedly and says in a scratchy voice, "I've been worse before." She then reaches forward and takes Zoe's letter, and though I want to stop her, I remain quiet. She doesn't read through the letter, but her eyes drift to Zoe's name and postscript. She releases the paper and watches me curiously. "Where'd you meet her?"

"Last year. She was friends with Astoria, Daphne, and Grant before I was."

"She graduated?"

I nod.

"And the Marcus Aurelius quote at the end?"

"An inside joke. We always sign off with a Marcus Aurelius quote."

"And . . . and do you always sign off with 'love'?"

Heat rises to my cheeks, and I clear my throat before answering, "Well, just recently she started using it."

"And you?"

"Not yet."

"So . . . you don't have anything against that?"

"Why would I?"

"What about Fred? I thought . . . I thought you liked him."

I smile sadly. "I did, but things didn't work out."

"And now you're with Zoe?"

"Not really. Maybe eventually."

"And you like her just the same?"

"Yeah, I think so."

Ella looks away from me and crosses her arms over her chest. "When did you find out that you liked both boys and girls?"

"Not until Zoe came into my life. Why're you so curious about this? Aren't these questions kind of personal?"

"Yeah, I guess they are. I was just . . . am I too young to know who I like?"

"I don't believe so, why?"

She scratches her head, and then her nose, and then crosses her arms again and shifts in her seat. "No reason." I remain silent, and a few moments later, she says, "Because I like someone."

I don't want to get into this with her now that we've started down this road, but she looks as if she's about to cry, so I don't try to shut her down. "All right."

"She's a girl."

"That's not so bad."

Ella finally looks at me again. "This Zoe person—do you know how old she was when—"

"I've never really asked her."

"Could . . . could I maybe write to her? Do you think she'd mind? I just . . . I don't know who I can talk to."

"I'll tell you what, I will ask her in this letter if you can write to her. I'm sure she wouldn't mind, but she's got a lot on her plate, so it might not be immediately that you can speak with her."

Ella smiles broadly. "I really appreciate it, Charlotte."

"It's no matter."

She waits a beat before saying, "You know what, maybe I should go to the hospital wing now instead of later. Madam Pomfrey surely has something that can help me, right?"

"Yeah, c'mon." I roll up the parchment and slide everything into my rucksack. Ella goes back to her dormitory and comes back down with her robes over her tracksuit pants and large shirt. Together we walk up to the hospital wing, and while Madam Pomfrey goes to the storeroom to retrieve a potion to help Ella with her cough and running nose, Astoria comes in and goes to Draco's side. I wish he knew how many people truly care for him.