"HAVE YOU MADE YOUR DECISION?" asked Draco.

"About what?" she said. "Also, Go Fish."

He cursed, picking up a card from the pile before them. "Are you daft? I'm talking about if you have made your decision on whether your uncle is going to stay around. What other big things do you have to decide that you forgot about Regulus?"

"Well, I'm trying to decide if I should cheat right now," she grinned, before asking, "Do you have an Ace?"

He offered her his Ace of Spades. "How the hell would you cheat in Go Fish?"

"Like this. Theo!" Theo appeared in the room nearly instantly, moving across towards where they sat on the floor. "Can you tell me what cards Draco has?"

"Five and eight of Hearts, ten and two of Spades, King of Diamonds, Jack of Clubs—" he rattled off.

"Hey, stop it! You two are horrible. I can't even play cards with you guys anymore," he complained half-heartedly. "Why are we even friends?"

She snorted. "Because we're related."

"Because I punched Potter in first year," replied Theo.

"That was good, but if that's the only reason we're friends, then I worry," said Draco.

"You complain way too much," said Celestia.

"We're in the middle of a war, I think I can whine a little bit," he said.

Theo joined them on the floor, leaning against the couch, and watched as the two of them continued to bicker in front of him. The fire sizzled high behind them, chasing the cool winter air out of the tent.

Christmas was approaching, but no one has had the heart to bring the topic up. For one, they didn't know if Regulus would still be around then. Secondly, like Draco had said, they were kind of in the middle of a war — would it be more morbid to celebrate it, or to not celebrate it?

There was also the fact that Celestia had been missing during Christmas last year. They never had a proper conversation about the specific days in which she'd been missing.

Draco switched the subject, and the two of them continued to bicker in that sibling way of theirs. Theo chimed in every once in a while, trying to drag himself away from his disastrous thoughts.

Her torture. That was the one thing he didn't know how to talk to her about. If it weren't for her nightmares and the scars around her wrists and ankles, it was almost like it never happened. He wanted to know what had happened, but it was not something he'd ever push her to speak about it.

There was a part of him that wanted to crawl right into her mind to learn every one of her thoughts and feelings; to pull her to his side and melt into her entirely, as if the him before her never existed. He gulped, realising again the depth of his obsession.

Another part of him loved learning what all the movements in her face dictated, what every sound she made meant. By now, he knew nearly all of them. There were some he still didn't know, and some he hadn't yet had the privilege to discover. But one thing he had always vowed was that he would learn every part of her: mind, body, and soul.

She turned towards him then, eyes twinkling, her hair glowing red at the edges due to the fire burning high behind her, and his attention was split between looking into her eyes and glancing down at her lips. She had long ago abandoned the game of Go Fish, and she moved to sit between his open legs.

It was a position they had sat in multiple times before; late nights in the Slytherin common room, and cold mornings at the Malfoy Manor. Still, his brain short-circuited whenever her body was pressed against his.

Back in fourth year, there had been a party to celebrate Cedric and the Hufflepuff common room had been crowded, because fourth years weren't usually invited. After hours of dancing Celestia's feet had begun to ache, and there hadn't been enough available chairs for her to take a break on, so, slightly tipsy, she'd taken residence right on his lap.

He hadn't been able to speak coherently for the rest of the night.

Being so close to her still transformed his self-restraint to nothing but a thin thread, and if it weren't for the fact that Draco was in room, he wasn't sure what he might have done. She leaned back against his chest, the side of her head finding its home against his neck.

His breath caught in his throat, and he was forced to remind himself not to do anything stupid that might ruin his friendship with either of the people in the room. He realised that he had to do something with his hands so that they wouldn't remain limp at his sides.

Wrapping one arm around her waist, his other hand found its place on her thigh. She tensed, and he was ready to move away his hand, but then she laid against him fully.

Draco's attention snagged on Theo's hand placement, and his eyes flickered up and caught his. They narrowed slightly, and Theo only rolled his eyes as if Draco's  suspicions had no merit.

"Why were you two playing Go Fish instead of Exploding Snap?" wondered Theo.

"Risk having my eyebrows being singed off in the middle of nowhere? No thanks," said Celestia, laughing.

Her laugh was like lightening to his veins, setting alight every part of him. No matter how many times he heard it, he would never tire of getting to hear her make that sound. He squeezed her thigh subconsciously, as if in silent appreciation, and she pressed herself back into him. He barely stifled a groan.

"Are you alright, Theo? You look a little pained there," said Draco.

"Fuck off," he retorted.

Draco only raised his eyebrows in minute suspicion. He returned his attention back to his cousin. "You never answered my question."

"What question?" wondered Theo.

Celestia shifted uncomfortably, and drew in a sharp intake of breath. "He asked if I decided whether I decided if we're going to hunt Horcruxes with Regulus."

"Well, have you?" he asked.

"What do you think?" she replied.

No, she hadn't made her decision yet. His thumb brushed against her side rhythmically, and she shivered. He delighted in knowing that reaction elicited from his touch.

"What do you guys want to do?" she wondered.

"Celestia Black? Asking for our opinions? Not making a rash decision all by herself? Who are you?" remarked Draco sarcastically.

"I don't make rash decisions," she scoffed.

"Do you remember the time that you threatened Snape to take you to the Ministry by using your Dark Mark, and then nearly got sent to Azkaban, except you were able to escape on the arm of the woman who had just killed your father?" said Theo. "You don't call that rash?"

"In my defence, I was sixteen," she said.

"Darling, you're seventeen," he said. "Do you really think that makes so much of a difference?"

"You're telling me that you don't have any regrets from when you were sixteen?"

His grasp on her thigh tightened, reminding her that he was right behind her. "I have many regrets from sixth year, none of which had anything to do with our Death Eater duties."

"See! You're not the same person you were last year," she quipped.

"Oh, I think I've just gotten worse," he snorted.

"Well, I have no regrets from sixth year," called Draco.

Celestia laughed loudly again. "You're such a bad liar."

Draco grinned at her, and it was such a boyish grin that it made Theo yearn for easier times. It reminded him of fifth year, when their biggest worry was if they would get in trouble for making half the school sing Weasley is our King whenever Ron Weasley walked by.

"Okay, I regret getting into that fight with George Weasley and Harry Potter. That hurt like a fucking bitch for weeks after," he amended.

"I remember that. It took three Quidditch players to hold Fred Weasley back." She whistled. "That was way too attractive, I'm not going to lie."

Jealousy; strong, green and grudging devoured him whole before he could stop it. He swallowed thickly, forcing himself to be silent.

"You did not just say that about a Weasley," gawped Draco.

"Oh, come on. I don't like the Weasley's as much as the next girl, but seeing a man being held back by some of the strongest students at school while trying to defend his family's honour? You can't really blame a girl."

"I definitely think you have some kind of problem," he said. "I hardly saw any girls swooning when Theo was beating the shit out of Potter, and it took like five Gryffindors, and then eventually me and Blaise to pull him off. To be fair, at that point, Theo looked more animal than human."

"Oh, piss off. You were just as angry as me, especially because you were off in your secret room and had to hear about it from us as we stormed the Gryffindor common room," retorted Theo.

"At least I didn't look like a monster as I beat someone to a pulp," countered Draco.

"I didn't look that bad," he muttered back.

Celestia straightened, pulling herself up so that she could murmur into Theo's ear. "I'm sure you looked just fine."

"Just fine? Not more attractive than Fred Weasley?" joked Theo, turning his head so that he could whisper in her ear.

"Do you really need me to stroke your ego more?"

"You can stroke my ego any time, darling," he said softly, almost in a purr.

"Okay, I was going to try and complain less but with the two of you practically shagging on the floor, I can't hold in my complaints any longer—" interrupted Draco, despite not being able to hear the specifics of what they had been saying.

"First of all, ew—" she interjected.

"I'm sorry, did you just suggest that us having sex is gross—?" Theo asked her.

Draco cut in again. "Can you please stop talking about having sex with my sister? I shouldn't have said anything. I'm going to throw up in my mouth."

"I think we should pretend that the last thirty seconds didn't just happen, and you guys can answer the question, yes?" Celestia decided.

"What question?" said Draco.

"Oh my God, are you daft?" replied Celestia. "The question which kind of decides our fate in this entire war, having to do with my once-dead uncle and betraying the Dark Lord?"

"Oh, that question."

"Yeah, that question. Can one of you give me an answer because I have no fucking clue what to do. Please, give me some kind of guidance here," she said.

Draco pulled on a loose thread of a cushion before he let out a deep sigh. "I'm not going to tell you what to do. I don't think I even could if I tried. But I never wanted to be a Death Eater. I mean, there was that phase I went through, but after he threatens your entire family that fascination kind of wears off."

"Okay, so you want to help Regulus?" she reiterated. "What about you Theo? What do you want to do?"

She moved in his grip so that she could look at his face. For a moment, she looked so clueless; so vulnerable that his heart physically ached, and he wished to know the exact words to make her feel secure. In a blink, though, those emotions were wiped from her face.

"I don't like You-Know-Who. And I'd say that to his face. But I don't know what the best option here is. We have no clue what the future is going to hold. How the war might turn out, and how our lives might change because of it. If the Dark Lord dies because of Potter, who knows what might happen to us. But if we kill him, again, we still don't know if we'll be heroes or just murderers because we're Slytherins," he said. "And what if we go after him, and we fail? We can't destroy them, or we can't even find them? Merlin, what happens if he realises we betrayed him? Those risks, they're everywhere . . . and I don't know if it's worth it."

"So, you're saying that the risk isn't worth it? We should just keep doing what we're doing?"

"No. I just think you should consider that, if everything goes wrong, what legacy you want to go down with," he answered.

She sat back against him again, clearly contemplating both of their words. She was fully relaxed against him, as if being within his arms was the safest place in the world. It had been a while since she'd been so at ease, and he wished to savour every moment of it.

If Draco weren't in the room, Theo would've closed his eyes and memorised it with all his other senses. The way she felt in his arms; every shift she made between his legs, his hand resting on her thigh, her temple against the side of his throat. How she smelt; the faint flowery sent mixing with the smoke of the fire. Every single noise she made; each breath she took, the way every word unfurled from her tongue. He didn't know the way she tasted, though.

Then, out of nowhere, he felt a change in her. When he looked back at it later, he would realise that he noticed the change in her moments before her body tensed. Her hand reached up, and curled around the amulet on her neck in that anxious movement of hers.

As soon as she tensed up, he caressed her thigh softly, an attempt to comfort her in a movement that had come as natural to him as breathing.

She only relaxed a margin of an inch, a sharp breath escaping her, but then she was springing up and announcing, "I'm tired. Goodnight."

Before either of them could comment on her abrupt departure, she was out of the room. They were stuck staring after her shadow for a second, openly dumbfounded.

Finally, they pulled their gazes away from the door. The silence was heavy, and they waited a beat before speaking.

"That was weird, right?" commented Draco.

"Yeah," sighed Theo. "It was. I'd say we go console her, but I think she just needs the night to cooldown from . . . whatever that was."

"You're right. I just worry about her sometimes. She's changed a lot in the past couple years — I love her all the same, don't get me wrong, but Merlin, I fear for her every time she is out of my eyesight. I feel like a goddamn parent or something," he said.

"I worry about her too."

Draco paused, choosing his words carefully, and Theo furrowed his brows in confusion as to what he might be planning to say. The last thing he expected was for overprotective-Draco to come out.

"Is there something going on between you and Celestia?" he demanded.

His head reared back. "No. Why would you think that?"

"I have my reasons," said Draco.

"Well, trust me, there isn't anything going on between us," laughed Theo. "She's my best friend. Nothing like that would ever happen."

That seemed to relax some of his big brother worries, but there was still that twinkle of doubt in Draco's eyes. "Look, Theo, you and Blaise are my best friends. But she is my little sister."

"I know, Draco. You can cool it on the big brother routine. You don't need to pull that on me," promised Theo.

Oh, how Draco would kill him if he ever heard half of his thoughts.

☆

Something wasn't right. Theo knew it the moment he woke up that morning, but it wasn't until Celestia was late to training that he knew something was wrong. The only time she had missed training had been when they'd so together, and he'd practically had to get on his knees to make her skip.

He re-entered the tent, dropping the sword onto the couch without a thought. He checked her room first, and when he didn't find her, there was only one other place she could be.

He knocked on the bathroom door. "Celestia, you better be decent because I'm coming in."

"Don't come in," she ordered.

"Are you wearing clothes?"

"Yes, but—" she began.

Without even removing his wand from his pocket, he had cast the Unlocking Charm on the door. Entering the bathroom, he found her leaning against the sink with a intense glare on her face.

It was so forceful that his thoughts stumbled for a moment. Two thoughts prevailed above the rest. The first being: Why does she looked so pissed off? The second one was nothing close to that.

"I told you not to come in," she upbraided.

"Yeah, and I once told you that yellow looked good on you. Sometimes we say things we don't mean," he retorted, attempting to pull her out of her mood with a tease.

She let out an irritated sigh, and that told him that there was something deeper going on than just waking up on the wrong side of the bed. He angled his head to the side in contemplation.

"Something's up with you," declared Theo.

"Yes, you. Did you have to barge in here?" she said gruffly.

"What crawled up your butt and died?"

"Piss off. Why the hell do you have to go and make everything a joke?" She made her attempt to try and push past him.

Before she could brush by him, he grabbed her arm and pinned her against the bathroom counter. Usually, being so close to him made her pause for a moment, but this time, if anything, it only made her angrier.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing is wrong," she answered.

He resisted the urge to scream.

"I thought you promised to stop keeping things from me."

A flicker of something passed over her face, but she steeled herself before he could fully grasp what it had been. She titled her head down and looked almost as if she was listening to something.

"Just drop it, Theo."

"No—"

"Why can't you just fucking leave me alone? You don't always have to fulfil your stupid saviour complex when it comes to me being upset. It's annoying, and honestly quite embarrassing and caveman-like on your part. I don't need you to wipe my tears every time I so much as frown. I've got two perfectly capable hands of my own," she said.

One of those said hands moved up and curled around the pendant of her necklace. His eyes snagged on the movement.

"Take your necklace off," he ordered.

"What? No. I like wearing it," she snapped back.

His gaze hadn't moved from where the amulet rested on her chest. "Take it off or I'll do it for you."

"Theo, I'm not taking off the necklace—"

Wrapping a hand over hers, he yanked hard, and the clasp snapped. The chain fell from her neck, leaving only the pendant in her hand. Then, before she could realise what he'd done, he stole the necklace from her hand.

Holding the locket in his hand for the first time, he swore he could feel the amulet beating like a tiny heartbeat in his palm. He watched her as she raised a hand and placed it where the pendant had rested.

"What just happened?" she whispered, dazed.

"The Horcrux was affecting you," he said.

She blinked. "But it never has before."

"You made your decision last night, didn't you? You're going to work with Regulus. I don't fucking know how it knew, but it knew, and it made you all angry and shit like the Dark Lord," he explained.

She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his shoulder. He moved one of his hands to rest on her hip. He felt her sigh, but this time it was one of defeat rather than annoyance.

He pulled her closer, her hips pressing against him. The mirror facing him showed their intimate position, and he swallowed against his suddenly dry throat.

"How did you know?" Celestia asked quietly, before clarifying, "How did you know that I wasn't just super pissed off, but it was actually the Horcrux?"

"Because I know you," he said.

She remained quiet, and at first, he thought she was simply absorbing his words and all that happened. But then he felt the dampness on his shirt, and he used the hand that wasn't on her hip to grab the back of her neck so he could look at her face,

Silent tears were rolling down her face. He cupped her jaw, his eyes darting all over her in concern.

"Why are you crying?" he demanded.

A sob caught in her throat, and she screwed her eyes shut. "Because I don't even know who I am anymore."

"Oh, baby," he murmured, trying to wipe away each tear that fell from her eyes.

She'd cried a couple weeks ago when she had gotten attacked by that werewolf, but this was different to that. Then, she had been a sobbing, blubbering — and still somehow beautiful — mess.

Now, though, she was completely silent. So much so that if he were not looking at her, he might not even know she was crying. It made his heart ache inside of his chest to see her so upset.

"I can't stop crying," she agonized, whacking away his hands and trying to wipe away her tears herself. "What is wrong with me?"

"Nothing is wrong with you. Come on, you should sit down. I think you might spiral into a panic attack," he said.

He made her sit down on the closed toilet seat, and then kneeled before her so that he could look into her eyes. He placed his hands over her knees, knowing it gave her an anchor.

"You know who you are, Celestia. Whatever epiphany you think you had, you're wrong. I know you, and I know you know you," he said.

"But I don't know me. I know I became a Death Eater because that is what Potter and my father expected of me, and I wanted revenge. I know that all the decisions I have made since then were to spite Potter. Didn't they completely dictate my entire life? My personality? Who even am I if not who they moulded me to be?"

"I am going to ask you two questions," he told her. "Do you remember the first time we met?"

"Yeah," she croaked.

"First year. I was in extremely old hand-me-down Slytherin robes because my dad had forgotten that I started school that year. These fifth years were bullying the shit out of me. They were moments away from beating me up too, because they were the stereotypical Slytherins who hated everyone who wasn't them."

He continued to speak, a small smile forming on his face. "Then you, your eleven-year-old arse walked up, and you decked Angus Harefield Jr. right in his face. And while all his friends were shocked, you hexed each of them — despite the fact you had a broken hand because you couldn't throw a punch for shit."

Her tears seemed to slow down, and though that hadn't necessarily been his main goal, he was glad that he was giving her a bit of a distraction. He stroked her knee, unable to resist touching her bare skin despite the inappropriate time.

"It hurt a lot," she muttered.

"I can imagine. You turned to me after, and you offered your non-broken hand and told me that Draco was waiting for us. Like we had been friends for years. And we walked away, and we met up with Draco, and even though he was a prick, he gave me some of his robes to wear. Brand new. Did Sirius Black or Harry Potter make you do that? Did they make you continue to be my friend, years later?"

Realising the questions hadn't been rhetorical, she answered him. "No."

He hummed. "That's what I thought. Now, tell me, why do you still stand by the Dark Lord even though you loathe him?" He paused, and then kept speaking before she could respond. "Actually, I can answer that myself. You told me yourself that you stuck by him because of loyalty. Yeah, you get to serve out some kind of vengeance on Potter, but that wasn't enough to make you stay. They might have influenced your life a helluva lot, but they don't dictate your life."

She took in a deep breath, trying to rein in her tears. Eventually, her breathing evened out and she placed her hands over his.

After a couple more moments, she stood up and went over to the sink. She splashed water over her face, hoping to remove any evidence of tears. Her puffed up; red-rimmed eyes stared back at her in the mirror.

"I feel stupid," she said in a meek voice.

"You're hardly stupid, baby. You got overwhelmed with emotion. It happens to everyone, and I'm just glad you didn't freak out on me. The thought of you going through that alone . . . I like being here for you. Anytime you feel stupid, I want to be the one you feel stupid around," he said.

She laughed, and the sound was still a little watery from her previous tears. He quirked an eyebrow, a sudden thought crossing his mind.

"Do you trust me?" he asked.

"What kind of question is that?" she replied, disbelief clear on her face. "More than anyone else."

This time, it was his turn to show blatant scepticism. Three names sat between them. Draco Malfoy. Pansy Parkinson. Blaise Zabini.

She rolled her eyes, gesturing to his pants. "Point your wand at me."

"What?" he blurted.

"Point your wand at me, Theo," she sighed.

"For the record, this is stupid." Still, he fished his wand from his pocket and followed her orders.

With his wand now raised, she moved forward until the tip of his wand pressed against her throat. His eyes lingered on the expanse of her neck too long, and he barely resisted the desire to ditch his weapon and wrap his fingers around her skin.

That one single thought sent him into a spiral. His hands on her hips, lifting her onto the bathroom counter, standing between her legs, hands sliding down over her thighs, lips on skin, her breath in his ear—

His eyes dilated even as guilt filled him. She was his best friend; she had been since that moment in first year, and she always would be no matter what. Every time a thought like that crossed his mind, he felt like he was betraying her.

"I would let no one else put their wand to my throat," she said. "No one. I trust you unequivocally. Do you understand? No, I would not let Draco or Pansy or Blaise put their wand at my throat. Regardless of how much I love them."

That was the truth, and she needed him to know it. She trusted Draco, but if he ever had to pick between her and Narcissa, she couldn't say confidently who he would pick. Yet, when it came to Theo, she knew in the deepest depths of her soul that no matter what, in every situation, he would pick her.

If Theo told her he could perform resurrection, she would let him stab her right through her heart. She needed him to understand that.

"Okay," he said hoarsely. "I believe you."

He lowered his wand and pocketed it. He grasped her face, unable to keep his thumb from tracing her bottom lip lightly, just once. She drew in a sharp breath. The next words were out of his mouth before he could bite his own tongue.

"What if we ran away?" he said.

Her head reared back in utter shock, but he still held her face in her hand. He hadn't even known he was going to say the question. It was something that he'd thought of only once; only allowed himself to entertain it that one time.

She let out a dazed, "What?"

There was no way he could back out of it now, but he could hardly think straight. "Me. You. Somewhere else. Out of the country. Away from all of this."

"You want to run away?" she staggered out.

"With you. I don't care if it makes us cowards. If it means keeping us alive, I would do it. I could do it. I could find us some place safe. Some place where either side wouldn't find us," he rambled.

He was stumbling over his words, and he knew it. The very thought of running away with her had plagued the back of his mind since the first time he had thought it, but he never allowed himself to consider it. But the gates had been broken open, and now they were damaged beyond repair. The words wouldn't stop flowing.

"There is a war going on, and like I said last night, we have no fucking clue how it is going to end. Staying here, it could be the end of everything. One of us, both of us, could die. If you want to risk it, I'm right by your side. But I'm giving you an out. We could do it, together," he said.

He saw her considering it; the fantasy of them abandoning the country together, leaving the war behind them in the dust, free of all responsibilities, just the two of them. He saw her want it. Yearn for it.

But he also saw reality crash down on top of it, and he knew what the answer would be before she even considered opening her mouth. He went to remove his hand from her face, a little ashamed of his outburst. Before he could, though, her hand found its way over his.

"I want to. Merlin, you have to understand that I want to." She closed her eyes as if she was fantasying about it again, pressing her face into his hand more. Eventually, she continued on. "But everyone is here. Draco, Pansy, Blaise, you, Narcissa, all our other friends at Hogwarts. We can't abandon them. You're right, we are in the middle of war, and we can't pull our forces now. You shouldn't have put that thought in my head, my God, I can't stop thinking about it."

"I'm sorry for asking," he murmured.

"Don't apologise. I'd let you be my knight in shining armour if we were anyone else," she said.

"I know. And I knew the moment I spoke that you were going to say no. I was being selfish. Still, the offer will always stand. One day, if you want to go somewhere; France, Australia, Italy, Greece, Canada, anywhere, you say the world, and we go."

Celestia's mouth parted, and he could see words dancing at the tip of her tongue. It wasn't a rejection but he sure as hell didn't know what she was hesitating to say. Instead of speaking at all, she closed her mouth and swallowed.

He withdrew his hand and took a step back, effectively breaking the moment before he did anything foolish. Clearing his throat, he fished for the Horcrux that he had put into his pocket at one point.

He grinned, dangling the necklace in front of her face. "Now, I have an idea about this. But first, you should probably tell Regulus about your decision. I think he'll be quite happy."

She gave him a small smile and nodded. There was still more she wanted to talk about in regard to her emotions, though she was holding back. He would talk to her about it further at a later time, but he feared too much emotional talk now would make her retreat within herself.

"Okay. I'll go tell Regulus," she said. "Come with?"

"Always."

AUTHORS NOTE

hiiii!! sorry this chapter took a while to come out. i've been really caught up in school + my house nearly got flooded so .

anyways! heres a theo POV :) never thought i'd give him a chapter, but i started writing this one and it just came out of nowhere. so this is for all of you who wanted a chapter from him

also i mentioned a sequel to this once in passing and was wondering if that was something you guys wanted?? post-war, getting over trauma, a ordinary life except it'll still follow the slytherin friend group (obv based more on celestia and theo)!

thank you all so much for 545k reads and 1k followers!! all your support means so much and i literally get so excited to read your comments. best part of my day fr. love u all <3

yours,
beth.