CHAPTER 57

I close the door to the Slytherin Dungeon to meet Snape, who nods at me once, and fall into stride with him as he leads me out of the dungeons and up to the entrance hall for my weekly patrols with the Order, even though tonight I would prefer not to do this. Ever since hearing that Voldemort wants to talk to me himself about his methods, I just want to lie around all the time and sleep and pretend that everything is completely and totally fine. Snape seems to have noticed this and has been surprisingly accommodating, only asking me questions or talking with me whenever I initiate conversations. This is one of those days when talking with him seems like it'll be beneficial, so I ask, "Have you heard any news from the manor?"

"Nothing that concerns you. The Dark Lord is becoming more impatient concerning your cousin, and they have asked me to keep a closer eye on him."

"Oh, joy." He smirks but does not answer me. "Do they know how he ended up in the hospital wing? Do they blame you?"

"They know Potter attacked, but beyond that, the details are hazy. They were alone in that bathroom, so they are the only ones who know what truly happened. No blame has fallen to me."

I nod, more relieved than entirely necessary. "Good."

A few moments later, I ask, "Do you—have you heard anything about where the Dark Lord will want me living when the term is up?"

He glances over at me and says in a quiet, tight voice, "No. I imagine it will depend on what you want and whether he can abide having you around your mother too much."

"You think he'll let me choose?"

"Did you not last year?"

"Technically, I guess, but only because he wanted me to learn to protect myself."

Snape swallows. "Have you—"

But he stops talking suddenly as we turn the corner and see Mrs. Weasley standing by the main doors of the castle. Snape passes me off to her without a word and then disappears back to the dungeons. I look into the warm eyes of Fred's mum and say, "I believe I need to apologize to you, Mrs. Weasley."

"Nonsense, dear."

"I should've listened to you and told Fred when I first found out about the dates, but I didn't, and here we are. I didn't mean to hurt him." She smiles in what is surely an acceptance of my apology. "How's the shop doing?"

"Very well, actually. Those boys truly have a knack for business."

"I'm glad to hear it."

She smiles.

"And how is he?" It's easier to speak of Fred than I thought it'd be.

"He's angry, Charlotte, I won't lie."

"And he has every right to be. I kept something from him that I told others, and that was wrong of me. It made it seem that I didn't trust him, and he deserves to be angry about that."

Mrs. Weasley looks at me sadly, and after that, we drop the subject of Fred altogether. For the next few hours, we make idle conversation. It seems that Bill and Fleur are going through with the wedding this summer. Though I'm happy for them, a part of me twinges with jealousy that I will miss out on all of the celebrations since Fred and I are no longer together. A Weasley party would be an absolutely wonderful time, no doubt.

When our shift ends, I return to the Slytherin Dungeon to take a nap until my next patrol shift.

Snape looks particularly exhausted when I meet him outside the common room again for my next shift, which prompts me to tell him that I don't need an escort to the entrance hall for every single time. He cuts me a look and says dryly, "It's not my first choice, and as much as I trust you to arrive on time and safely, I was asked to ensure that you do not wander."

"Asked by whom?"

"It looks like we're out of time," he says as we turn the corner to the entrance hall.

Tonks waves to me, and I no longer care about who might have told Snape to escort me through Hogwarts. "Go get some sleep, Professor," I say to him before walking away from him and over to Tonks.

"Wotcher, Charlotte."

"How's your mum?"

Tonks smiles. "She's well. She was very pleased to hear you had joined the Order."

I feel lighter immediately. "Perhaps this summer I can find a way to visit again? I feel like Narcissa is probably not the aunt I should be spending all of my time around." That's not fair to say.

"That does indeed sound miserable." I don't have the guts to tell her how nice Narcissa actually is to me nor how much I truly do enjoy seeing her. No one needs to know that. Regardless of how she treats me, she is still a pureblood supremacist who openly sides with Voldemort and his Death Eaters. "Mum would be thrilled to see you again. She's asked about you a couple of times."

I spend the next three hours happily chatting with Tonks. Andromeda and Ted are doing really well, which brings me great joy. She says that they'd like to have me around for dinner again, and while their kindness toward me likely stems from Andromeda's pity of me, I don't actually care because it means a chance to spend time with segments of my family who are not terrible people.

We also manage to avoid the topic of Fred completely, which is good because I fear I would tell her all about Zoe if Fred came up.

When the time comes for our shift to end and for me to go back to the Slytherin Dungeon, I regret seeing my cousin leave.

I visit Draco every day after my classes. Madam Pomfrey refuses to let him leave the hospital wing yet, but I'm not complaining because he's under constant watch in there, which means he cannot get into any more fights or get into any more trouble. This morning, I convinced Astoria I would meet her and the others down on the Quidditch pitch for the final match of the season, and she'll most likely be infuriated when she discovers my lie and learns I never had any intention of watching the match. I plan to go to the hospital wing to check on Draco again and stay with him until after the game.

By now it's common knowledge that Harry has detention every Saturday until the end of term, courtesy of Snape, and that means he cannot play the role of Seeker for the final Quidditch match. What this means for the Gryffindor Quidditch team is unclear, but since it does not affect my life in the slightest, there's been no reason to try to figure it out.

I step into the hospital wing, and Draco's angry eyes meet mine. I pull up a seat next to his bed. "How're you feeling today?"

He sighs loudly then mutters quietly enough that the matron nurse cannot hear him, "Better. I don't understand why I'm being forced to stay here. It's not like I'm dying."

"Not anymore, at least."

This brings a half-hearted smile to his face. "I suppose you're right. I gave you lot a fright, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did, and if you pull a stunt like that again, I'll kill you myself. Understood?"

"You might not have to kill me," he whispers.

"Don't—"

"I'm running out of time, Charlotte. I have a month and a half to kill the greatest wizard of the age. Explain to me how that's possible."

I slide closer to him and take his hand. "I don't know." His eyes begin to water. "I . . . we both know what you have to do."

"I can't."

"Would you rather accept help or fail?"

He doesn't answer this.

"Your mum wrote me," I say.

He frowns. "I . . . I can't die and leave her, Charlotte."

"You won't. She believes you won't. But she wants you to get help from Snape. She pleaded with me to talk some sense into you. She can't lose you, Draco. You can't do that to her. That means you must go to Snape."

He sighs quietly but still doesn't answer, and I turn my attention to the window, through which I can see the Quidditch match taking place, the players flying high in the air like little bees. "Gryffindor doesn't stand a chance without Potter," he comments.

"You think so?"

"They're missing a Seeker, something Ravenclaw currently has. Had Potter not tried to murder me, Gryffindor would probably have won the Cup again."

"I hear Ginny's not a bad Seeker."

Draco scoffs.

"In other news, Astoria has been to see you a few times."

This brings another smile to his face, but he doesn't comment on my statement.

No conversation really comes after that, neither of us wanting to talk about Quidditch, Draco refusing to make a comment on Astoria, and Madam Pomfrey bustling about the room making it too dangerous for us to talk about Voldemort.

I refuse to leave him though, and every now and then he gives me an appreciative look, so not leaving seems to be the correct choice. I prop my feet up on his bed and lean back in my chair.

"Just make yourself comfortable," Draco deadpans.

"Don't worry, I will. At least until the match is over and I have to go face Astoria for abandoning her after promising I'd meet her down on the pitch for the game."

He still makes no comment.

We sit there silently until through the window I see the students making their way back up to the castle. "Looks like my time is up, Draco."

"Take care of yourself, Charlotte," he says. "I'll be out of here soon enough."

I leave right after that and make my way to McGonagall's office, hoping that to postpone my confrontation with Astoria for a little while longer. I trust she won't be too angry.

McGonagall's smile tells me everything I need to know. "Congratulations!" I say to her when she gets close enough.

"That easy to see?" she replies as she unlocks her office door and lets me in.

"You're only ever this happy when Gryffindor does something good."

She seems tempted to smile but holds it back well enough. "Why weren't you there?"

"I was with Draco in the hospital wing. I thought he'd want someone to talk to rather than spend his day alone. He's been through a lot, with Voldemort being at his house and all. He's constantly worried about his mum."

McGonagall's lips go thin. "And you can deal with the extra stress of helping another? You force yourself to take on too much."

"Having a lot on my plate distracts me from the real world," I say.

She nods understandingly. "You're welcome to stay if you want to."

I take my normal seat in front of her desk. "There is something I think you should know, Professor." She waits quietly, so I continue, "I told you at the beginning of the year that Bellatrix said someone was going to die. Now I know that Death Eaters are searching for ways to get into the castle, and they've almost figured it out. They're trying to kill someone, and they plan to do it before the end of term. I don't know who, and I don't know how. All I know is that it's dangerous for Professor Dumbledore to be leaving as he does. Even with the Order's patrols, the castle is weakened without him being here. And I just . . . I thought I should get it out there that he is, in fact, trying to actually break into Hogwarts without setting off any defensive spells and without Apparition. And he's clever, Professor, as I'm sure you know. You were around during the First Wizarding War."

"I will make sure to inform Professor Dumbledore that you know of You-Know-Who's plans."

"That's . . . I guess I've done what I can then." I look down at my hands. "But I actually . . . I have to go. I have to go apologize for abandoning Astoria and making her go to the Quidditch match without me."

McGonagall nods a goodbye, and I leave her office.

Astoria is standing in the common room as if having been waiting on me for hours, her arms crossed, her jaw clenched. She reminds me of a terrified mother who has been waiting all night for her child to return home from whatever misdeeds said child might've gotten into. "I hate you so much right now, Charlotte," she growls, a smile on the edge of her lips.

"I really do apologize. I lied to you. I never intended to go to the match. I just needed to speak with Draco."

"Yeah, well, you left me hanging, and I was stuck listening to Malcolm and Grant arguing. Daphne and the first-years gave up and actually moved down the bench."

"I'm so sorry," I laugh.

"Sure, you are."

"It won't happen again."

"It better not." She puts her arm around my shoulders and walks me over to our group of friends, all of whom want to gripe at me for not showing up at the Quidditch match.

Gryffindor winning the Quidditch Cup is a topic of conversation for a few hours before it is replaced by the new and exciting relationship between Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, and in the following weeks both Harry and Ginny seem happier than I have ever seen them. Granted, I've only ever known them really when Umbridge ruled over Hogwarts with an iron fist, so I'm not the best person to judge their levels of happiness.

The only thing that bothers me about this new relationship is that it is literally the only thing people ever really talk about anymore. No one cares about the stuff happening outside of the castle walls. Dementor attacks should be a topic of conversation, but it's not. People would rather discuss the type of tattoo on Harry's chest. And this bothers me more than it should. For some reason, talking about Voldemort and acknowledging all the chaos that happens outside of Hogwarts helps me cope. When no one talks about Voldemort, it's like the world is no longer revolving, it's like people no longer care about all of his evil deeds, which makes me almost feel petty for fretting everything as I do.

Luckily, I still have Zoe who willingly discuses Voldemort with me and the things that the Death Eaters do. Her letters to me are the highlight of each day I receive them. While most of his doings are still kept quiet, it's comforting to know that the whole world has not gone completely blind. Zoe has informed me that some people who visit the Three Broomsticks talk nervously about Voldemort and the Death Eaters, which means people are aware. Just not here at Hogwarts, apparently, where the only thing that now matters is the relationship between Harry and Ginny. I sigh at the thought.

"What do you think about it?" Christopher's voice breaks through my reverie, and I look up to all of my friends around the table in the common room, each of them watching me expectantly.

"What?" I manage to ask.

"Who're you daydreaming about?" Grant asks scandalously, a wicked smirk on his face.

I feel myself blush but ignore it and say, "I'm not. There's just . . . a lot going on right now, you know? What were you talking about?"

Christopher sets a bottle of ink on the table. "Avifors," he says. There is a vivid flash of blue light, and the bottle becomes a bird. Christopher moves his wand around, and the little bird follows the wands movement. "I was showing you my improvement. Do you think I'll pass the test?"

"Oh, I'm absolutely positive you will."

He grins shyly.

"What're you going to do for the holiday?" Julia asks quietly.

I nearly throw up but can't very well say, "I'm going to be a slave of Lord Voldemort himself," without scarring the poor kids and inciting all types of pity from the other three, so instead, I say, "I'm going to be spending time with some friends."

"What friends?" Jacob asks.

"Well, not really friends necessarily. It's the Malfoys," I say, which isn't an entire lie.

"Will we see you at all?" Christopher asks.

"I don't know."

"Will you write to us?" Ella asks.

Astoria quickly interjects, "She'd better."

"I'll try," I say, though I doubt whether I'll actually have time to do that, "but I don't know if I'll be able to. I'm going to be . . . busy over the holidays. What about all of you? What're your plans?" I can't bring myself to listen to a single answer any of them give because in my heart that it will only make me bitter at each of them for not having to face what I'm set to face.

Dear Zoe,

I know I sent you a letter yesterday, but I came to the realization today that I have less than two months until I will be forced into my duty. I don't know how to cope, and I'm freaking out. I never told you about what happened the day before the Apparition Test, and now I can't even close my eyes without seeing it.

I made a mistake. Pansy Parkinson found a boggart and somehow got it into a cabinet in one of the spare rooms. Daphne warned me that Pansy planned to trick me in there and make me face it. I thought I could handle it, but I couldn't. I went in there willingly, against all better judgment, I went in there and found the boggart and attempted to overcome my fear and I failed. Voldemort came after me with our child in his arms. I don't know what to do, I really don't. Every time I close my eyes I see him attacking me with that red-eyed demon spawn, and I don't know what to do.

People here seem to have forgotten about Voldemort altogether. No one speaks of him, and I just don't understand. Am I overreacting about all of this? Do I have the right to be as worried about everything as I am? Voldemort means almost nothing to the students here now and I don't know what to do because it makes me feel so—I don't know. When others aren't fretting over him I feel as if I don't have any right to fret over him either and I am so scared. I'm so scared.

I'm running out of time. Draco is running out of time. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Should I tell McGonagall what's happening? I told her that the Death Eaters were trying to get into Hogwarts, but should I tell her everything? Dumbledore apparently knows, because when I was trying to prove my Occlumency good enough to join the Order, I showed him my memories of Draco telling me what was to happen, but he didn't seem the least bit upset by it. He seemed calm. What does that mean? Does that mean I shouldn't worry about it?

I don't understand anything anymore.

All I know is that I'm running out of time.

I can't go to McGonagall with all of my fears because I tell her too much as it is. I can't talk to Snape about it because he purposefully tries to be vague. I can't talk to Draco because damn it he's struggling enough as it is. He's failing right now, and he might die, and I can't dump my stress onto him as well as his own. I can't talk to the first-years for obvious reasons, and I can't talk to the Astoria, Daphne, or Grant because it doesn't feel right.

I hate dropping all of this on you, I really do. But I trust you. And I need you. And god I hate to sound so pathetic. I hate to sound this weak.

I'm so scared. I don't sleep well anymore.

I'll get out for the holiday at the end of this month, and I don't know what Voldemort has planned for me over the next few months, but I want to spend time with you.

Marcus

P.S. "The happiness of our life depends on the quality of your thoughts." Well, Mr. Aurelius, my thoughts are pretty shitty right now. Got any better advice?

I roll the parchment over in my fingers, then make my way out of the common room and leave the dungeons altogether. I manage to avoid almost everyone on my way up to the Owlery, and even though I don't speak to them, I catch sight of Harry and Ginny walking by the lake and smile at how happy they look. I wish I was able to share moments like that with Zoe. Perhaps I should have tried to be with her last year—no, Charlotte, you enjoyed your time with Fred while it lasted.

A school owl flies down to me when I enter the Owlery, and as I tie the letter to its foot, I realize that this letter can never be sent. If it were intercepted, it reveals entirely too much information. Even signing off with the Marcus nickname isn't enough to stop someone from learning too much, so after removing the letter from the owl's leg again, I wave my wand and set it on fire, then drop it to the stone and wait until the final embers are gone.

Hermione waves to me as I pass her and Ron on my way back to the dungeon, and I smile back at her but don't really have it in me to speak with her right now—instead, I just keep walking. In the dungeons, I take a seat with my friends, all of whom are now back in the common room. I probably spent too much time watching the letter burn.

"Where've you been?" Jacob asks me.

"I was sending a letter. Who wants to play Exploding Snap?"

Just when the game is getting started, Christopher's eyes widen and fall on something behind me very closely.

"Rodgers, my office. Now."

I glance over my shoulder to see Professor Snape staring down at me coldly. "Don't cheat while I'm gone," I say.

Pansy sniggers to her group of friends as I follow the professor from the common room.

I don't speak until his office door is shut behind us. "What's happened?"

Snape's eyes are somehow both sad and stressed at the same time. "Professor Dumbledore has left the castle with Potter."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I believe you heard me."

"I did, but I kind of need you to explain things a little better, sir."

Snape sits down behind his desk. "Professor Dumbledore has taken Potter on some sort of mission to find a way to destroy the Dark Lord."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Snape leans back in his chair. "Taking Potter makes this different than every other time he's left the castle. The Death Eaters know Professor Dumbledore is out of the castle. This time feels different, and I wanted you to be aware of the circumstances in the event that something happens."

"Hmm . . . um, thanks? Should . . . should I go now?"

He shakes his head. "Not until the headmaster has returned."

Why would be want to keep me in here? I clear my throat and wring my fingers together. I really should just sit here quietly and accept what he's said, but if I'm going to be stuck here in his office for an undisclosed amount of time, I might as well try. "Could . . . could I ask you for a favor then?"

"It depends on what it is."

I take a breath. "Professor, I haven't been sleeping well since . . . since the boggart incident. I'm currently extremely tired."

"Is that a question?"

"Yes. Could you possibly use the Sleeping Spell on me? Just until Dumbledore and Harry return? If things go poorly—and you seem to think they will—I will need some sort of rest before I try to face anything."

"You won't be facing—"

"Professor, please," I ask, my voice thick. "I'm so tired, and I can't sleep because of Voldemort. Please."

"If I do this and I have to wake you up, you'll be groggy and will not be prepared to protect yourself should that prove necessary, but once the headmaster has returned with Potter and everything is the way it should be, I will use the spell on you then."