Love this art of Draco, Lainey, and Fred that https://www.quotev.com/27886777 made!

Apparently, my victory over Zacharias Smith in the Gryffindor locker room resulted in the desired effect: Dumbledore's Army quit breaking school rules. Normally, I wasn't one to advocate for rule following, but with the punishment being so severe, I'd rather the students be docile but grumpy than injured or dead. Malfoy did continue to take advantage of his position as Head Boy, particularly when he was in a "sour mood" and felt like taking points from the students that had ambushed us, but I didn't even disapprove of such "unfairness"—and neither did Ginny. She'd been furious when she heard about the scuffle, and Neville had decided to put Dumbledore's Army meetings on a hiatus until after the winter holiday.

"Trust me, if I had the chance to pummel Malfoy for what he did to Luna, I would," Ginny said to me one day as we left Divination, "but Dumbledore's Army isn't about offense. Harry taught us these spell as a defense, so we could fight when the time came, not so we could start senseless fights. I'd bet anything that Zacharias was just using Luna's detention as an excuse to fight Malfoy. He's been whispering about how he wants to destroy you two since you came out as Death Eaters. I'm sure his intentions are less about nobility and more about selfish pride, too. I'll be surprised if Neville lets him come back to the meetings in January at all."

I didn't dwell on the issue of Dumbledore's Army too much, though. Given the upcoming exams and the mounds of homework we'd been receiving, I found myself drowning in education rather than drama. Even with the ongoing war outside the castle walls, I still spent every night poring over Arithmancy charts with Malfoy instead of contriving a scheme to end Voldemort. It was maddening, but I cherished the moments when Malfoy snickered at my incompetence and stupidity, especially when the term ended and I was confronted with the harrowing reality that we would be returning to the Manor for two weeks. We would be returning to Voldemort.

On the train ride "home", the Slytherin Six opted for a compartment instead of sitting amongst the other Slytherins. Only four members of the Slytherin Six were actually present, though: Melody had chosen to stay at Hogwarts for the holiday, where she would be in complete isolation since every other student was taking this opportunity to escape the castle walls that had become more like a prison than a sanctuary. I knew the reason she wasn't leaving Hogwarts was because she had nowhere to go; her home was no longer her home, and if she went there, her father would likely kill her. I would have offered for her to accompany Malfoy and I back to the Manor, but bringing the Anti-Gaudium that Voldemort sought right into his captivity didn't seem like the wisest move.

Harper was the other missing member, but he, surprisingly, hadn't decided to stay at Hogwarts with Melody. None of us were really sure where he'd been the entire day on the train. The sun had set hours ago, leaving the window in the compartment as a dark sheet of blackness, but still there had been no sign of him.

"He's been weird the past few weeks," Astoria was saying as she examined her pale blue nails. Seated on the bench across from me, she was perched comfortably in Anderson's lap, leaning back against his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her waist. When she'd initially settled into this position, he'd been bemused, but there had been no complaints from him, and he now wore the same lazy, confident smile that he'd been sporting since the Quidditch match. They weren't officially dating, but they were...something, for sure.

"He hasn't talked to me at all," I agreed from where I sat wedged between the wall and Draco Malfoy. Goyle was on his other side, taking up most of the bench, and even though it had been hours, I still hadn't gotten used to the heat of Malfoy pressed against my side.

"It's because he knows that if he speaks, I will murder him!" Ashley shrilled, though she'd yet to take her eyes away from her clipboard, where she was planning something competition-related. Her small bottom was squeezed between the wall and her boyfriend, and she had her legs draped over his in a lounging position. Crabbe didn't seem nearly as giddy as Anderson about his seating arrangement; he was continuously eating pastries that seemed to appear magically—and perhaps they were appearing magically.

"You're still mad at Harper about the Quidditch match?" I inquired dully. "It's been three weeks, Ash. And it was Melody's fault."

"I know, and I hate her too!" Ashley fumed as she began to write with more vigor. She'd been in this unstable, irritable mood since November, docking House points from anyone and everyone—except fellow Slytherins, of course. Malfoy told me that she even gave a few kids detention, which she'd never done before, and I didn't like to think about what craziness those poor students had had to endure.

For a week after the match she had refused to leave her bed, and when she finally did she announced that the original task for December had been canceled. Instead, her team was instructed to buy their partners a Christmas gift, and each couple that did would receive two points. All of the other teams were ordered not to buy each other gifts, and anyone found exchanging a gift with their partner would lose a point. Astoria was piqued, complaining that she'd been hoping for some really expensive jewelry from Anderson, but he seemed as pleased as I did that he wasn't obligated to get her a gift. I hadn't been able to decide whether to buy Malfoy something for the holiday or not, but now the choice had been made for me.

"Do you think you'll come visit the Manor over the holiday, Astoria?" I asked, directing the conversation away from Ashley's irrational self-pity.

"My parents probably will," she replied ambiguously.

"But you won't?"

She shifted in Anderson's lap and cleared her throat. "I don't want...You-Know-Who to get any ideas for me." Her eyes slid toward my forearm, covered by my sweater, as if she could see the Dark Mark through the knitting. "My parents have decided they don't wish to oppose him, but I don't want any part of it. Besides, I'm spending the holiday with Vince."

Anderson blinked, nonplussed. "You...are?"

"Yes, of course. I can't stand the thought of enduring two weeks with Daphne—especially since she plans to bring Blaise home. They are such loud moaners—"

Luckily, we didn't have to hear any more details about Daphne and Blaise moaning, because the door to our compartment slid open, revealing a red-cheeked and beaming Ryan Harper.

"Hey," he breathed, closing the door behind him and looking to each of us with feverish blue eyes. "Guess what?"

"You've decided to resign from our team so I can replace you with someone who actually has talent?" Ashley offered viciously, but Harper didn't even bat an eye at her ridicule.

"No, no, but this does link back to the Quidditch match. Do you all remember when I fell off my broom to my death?"

"And lost us the match?" Ashley snapped. "Of course I remember!"

"Just continue, Harper," I instructed with a sigh.

"Right, well, I realized as I was falling that I haven't actually accomplished anything in my life. My greatest ambition has been to date Mel, and it's never happened. I've been thinking a lot about my purpose, my life, my regrets—and if I had died right then, I would have gone straight to hell with a lot of regrets."

"At least you could float through the river of fire knowing that you wouldn't be alone for long," Malfoy drawled, his grey eyes sliding pompously from Harper toward me. "I'm sure the Mudblood would have joined you eventually."

I elbowed him in the side and he choked up a grunting laugh. Of course the first words out of him in hours were an insult directed at me. I was glad, though, honestly, that he had it in him to mock me at all; even though he hadn't said so specifically, I knew he was nervous about returning home.

"Oh, yeah, Lay's gonna rot in hell for sure, but that's not the point here," Harper insisted. "The point is my epiphany. I've come to the conclusion that I can't just wait around for good things to happen to me. That's why I've decided to act."

"And what action have you performed, exactly?" Astoria prompted, her perfect eyebrows raised dubiously.

"I asked Harmony to come home with me," he announced proudly.

"To do what?" I asked, wincing. "Sleep with you?"

"No—well, maybe. We'll have to see how it goes, Lay. I asked her to come back to my house for the holiday, though, since she can't really go back to celebrate Christmas with her vampire father. I doubt he can even say the word Christmas anymore, considering his vampirism."

"Yeah, I bet vampires can't celebrate Christmas," Anderson agreed thoughtfully. "We should all just storm the Flemmings' house dressed as Santas. Maybe it'll kill him."

Malfoy was smirking devilishly at my side. "I would pay to see that. Only if Fitzroy dresses as an elf, though. The Muggles' interpretation of an elf, that is."

"Ooh, we should dress up like sexy Muggle elves!" Astoria enthused, reaching her leg out to kick me with excitement.

Rubbing my shin, I scrunched my nose at her. "I don't want to dress up as a sexy elf," I said, shooting a pointed glare at Malfoy; his grin only broadened. "And I think that vampires are more allergic to crucifixes than Muggle Christmas traditions."

"I'll mention the Santa idea to Harmony," Harper said, ignoring me completely. "Maybe if she dresses as a sexy Muggle elf he'll be so revolted that he'll just die on the spot. No one wants to see their daughter like that, ya know."

"Did she even say yes?" I questioned exasperatedly. "To your request to go to your house, I mean."

"Oh, yeah. She was planning to go looking for her mum but it would be too dangerous. I'm relieved she agreed. Rachel's staying with the Andersons for the break so I would have been alone with Mum and Dad otherwise."

"Dammit, I thought Travis was going to your house," Anderson griped.

"Well, you're welcome to come to my house if you want."

"Ooh, we should," Astoria squealed, rapidly tapping his shoulder. "I've been dying to do more work on Harmony's hair."

"Can't," Anderson sighed. "I've got a family reunion to go to, remember?"

"Oh, right, with the Muggles. That'll be fun. I've always wanted to see how my products work on Muggles. Do you have any ugly cousins that I can give makeovers to?"

"No," Anderson said, hanging his head as he avoided her eyes. "Travis and I got all the ugly genes, unfortunately..."

"Oh rubbish," she reprimanded immediately. "You're perfect—"

Harper gagged where he stood by the door. "I always hoped you two would get together, but now that it's finally happening I want to vomit."

"Oh, don't act like you don't turn into a cheesy ball of mush every time you utter a word to Melody," Astoria scoffed with an eye roll.

Harper grumbled something unintelligible before motioning for Goyle to move over. "I wanna sit," he said, shoving Goyle into Malfoy.

"There's no room," Malfoy barked, the sharpness of his shoulder pressing into mine. "Go sit with your Gryffindor girl."

"There's plenty of room if Lainey sits on your lap like those gross things are doing," Harper insisted, motioning briefly at the two couples on the opposite side of the compartment. "C'mon, Lay, you know you want to."

My cheeks blazed with heat as everyone glanced over at me. Malfoy's gaze was most prominent, but I refused to look at him as I swallowed. "Why don't you sit on Goyle's lap, Harper?"

"Why is that even a question?" was Harper's retort as his eyes flew between Malfoy and me. "I'm waiting..."

With an exaggerated groan, I stood from my seat and motioned for Malfoy to move over. Bafflement washed over his features, but after a flustered moment, he shifted to where I'd been sitting, and Goyle followed. Harper plopped down in the empty spot and stretched his legs. Smirking impishly, he glanced over at me and said, "Your turn, Lay."

Keeping my chin high, I shook off my nerves and willed myself to sit on Malfoy's legs as though I were sitting on a simple chair. The prospect of sitting in his lap shouldn't have been so intimidating; I'd sat on my brothers, on my friends—even on Fred, and I'd barely given it much of a thought, but this was different. This made me shiver with a combination of apprehension and excitement. This implied something.

Malfoy didn't flinch when I rested on him; his arm was settled comfortably behind my back, careful not to allow his hand to touch my side as Anderson's was touching Astoria's, and I nestled my back into the crook of his shoulder, hoping he couldn't hear or feel my elevated heartbeat hammering through every one of my blood vessels. His breaths came steadily, as though this was a common position for us. There was nothing normal about this, though; we'd never been this close in public before, and we'd never touched with such casual intimacy. No one was staring at us, though. Harper had already started a new conversation about how excited he was to see his parents while everyone else had gone back to their previous occupations: Ashley scribbling, Crabbe eating, Astoria admiring her nails, and Anderson admiring Astoria.

I was beginning to think that maybe I could get used to this, that maybe I could doze off or at least pretend to, when Malfoy shifted beneath me, and I was reminded of how close we were. As he moved, his hand accidentally moved my sweater, brushing the bare skin of my side and causing him to freeze as I nearly jumped with the sensation of it. There was nothing uncomfortable or unnatural about his touch; I'd once shied away from it, and the thought of sitting in Draco Malfoy's lap a few years ago would have repulsed me, but now...it sent a hum of electricity through me that my body craved with such intensity that it almost scared me. Maybe that was why my instinct was to squirm away: Admitting the extent of my attraction to Malfoy terrified me, and admitting it in the presence of all my friends was even more daunting and, frankly, quite embarrassing.

But...none of them were even looking at us. It was as if we'd been absorbed in this corner of the compartment, invisible to everyone but ourselves. His fingers were still resting gingerly on my skin, paralyzed with his uncertainty. I could have pushed him away, and there was a time when I definitely would have, but I'd realized by now that I did want his touch. Some innate part of me had always been drawn to him, and now was the time to accept it or deny it forever.

Reclining further, I allowed his hand to become burrowed beneath my sweater, the dark fabrics of his shirt and mine merging and rendering the fact that his hand was pressed against my bare stomach unknown to the rest. Still, he was rigid, refusing to do more than just leave his hand there, and so I crossed my legs and leaned deeper into him, assuming a lax position that I thought might convey my desire. With eyebrows raised, I glanced up at him—a frisky challenge—but his features were still set in bewilderment.

He thought I was messing with him, I realized. He thought this was some sort of cruel prank, that I was going to provoke him to touch me and then berate him for his lewdness. It made me sick, not at him for thinking that, but at myself because it actually sounded like something I would do. How could he ever take me seriously if I was constantly duping him? When would he ever feel safe to be honest when I couldn't be honest with him?

My smirk had faded as I implored him with my eyes, begging him to believe in me, when the train came to a sudden, screeching halt. I lurched forward, and I would have collided with screaming Astoria if Malfoy hadn't wrapped his arm around my waist, securing me in the seat even as Harper and Goyle flew across the compartment. Crabbe and Goyle slammed noses, spraying blood and causing Ashley to join in on Astoria's shrieking fit. Harper's head had landed in Ashley's lap, but she was too preoccupied with her boyfriend's broken nose to notice him as he struggled to stand.

Doors were opening out in the corridor, and I was about to stand and open ours when someone appeared within the compartment, materializing out of smoke. His hair was as oily as his simper, his dark eyes gleamed when fell upon me.

"Have I interrupted something?" Augustus Rookwood asked as he surveyed the position that Malfoy and I sat in. I wanted to scramble to my feet, but my mind couldn't manage to will my limbs to move.

"I always forget how ugly you are," Astoria breathed as she stared wide-eyed at Rookwood. "If I didn't hate you, I would invent a lotion to cure your hideousness."

"Come now, Astoria, hate is such a strong word. I like to think of us as family now that your parents have sworn allegiance with the Dark Lord."

Her makeup was the only color left on her face as she stared at him. "My parents took th-the Mark?"

"Not yet, but I have no doubt they will in the near future. Perhaps you can follow in their footsteps." Rookwood's gaze fell to her forearm and she shivered before curling up in Anderson's arms. I'd never seen her confidence so drained, her eyes so full of fear.

"Why did you stop the train?" I demanded, finally finding my voice.

His lips curled patronizingly. "I'm not particularly skilled when it comes to Apparating onto moving objects."

My eyes slivered as I stood, disentangling myself from Malfoy. "I meant why are you here?" I questioned, enunciating each word.

"I've come to deliver a sudden and urgent message from the Dark Lord. A simple task designed for the two of you." His slimy eyes slid over Malfoy and me, and I fought to maintain my poise. "It's so easy that even you incapable youths can accomplish it. Come, and I'll explain it to you."

I exchanged a look with Malfoy where he'd remained seated. Uncertainty plagued his expression, but with a glance down at his forearm, he sighed and obeyed, following Rookwood out of the compartment.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, mostly to Astoria, who appeared on the verge of tears. Anderson and Harper were uneasy, I could tell, but Crabbe, Goyle, and Ashley had no qualms with our departure to aid Voldemort's cause. I almost wished one of them would jump and stop me, beg me not to go. The fact that they didn't only confirmed the ugly truth; they expected this of me. They expected me to blindly follow the Dark Lord, and they didn't think any amount of pleading would hinder me.

"All you must do is obtain one measly student," Rookwood was saying to Malfoy when I stumbled out into the hall. Compartments were open and students were peering out, but every one of them recoiled upon seeing Rookwood. Two other Death Eaters were pacing up and down the car, indistinguishable in their silver masks.

"Who?" I asked, crossing my arms.

He flashed his yellow teeth and said, "The Lovegood girl."

My stomach knotted instantly, and my desperate eyes flew to Malfoy, but he was stony, keeping his gaze firmly on Rookwood.

"Why?" was his question.

"Surely you know her father's been publishing lies in his Quibbler. Fabrications against the Dark Lord, pro-Potter propaganda... Our master will have it no longer. We will apprehend the Lovegood girl as leverage against her father, ensuring that he no longer defies our great Lord."

"So Luna's dad's been telling everyone the truth about Voldemort and you want to stop him by kidnapping her?" I cocked my head to the side as he loosed a snarl. "That's just what I'm hearing."

"I'm sure you know by now what the wrath of the Dark Lord feels like. Your real brother might be out of our reach at the moment, but your Muggle brothers have yet to evade me."

My expression scrunched with skepticism. "You're bluffing."

"Have I been known to bluff?"

"If you know where the Fitzroy brothers are, why haven't you captured them yet? I'm sure you know what the wrath of the Dark Lord feels like when you withhold information from him."

Rookwood soured at my reference to how he had kept Lisa's survival a secret—and had been punished severely for it. Maybe Rookwood knew where Evan and Garren were, but if he did and he was hiding it from Voldemort, he also knew the consequences.

"Should I take this as a direct disobedience of the Dark Lord's wishes?"

"No," Malfoy answered before I could open my mouth. "We'll do it."

I gaped at him. "What?"

"We don't have a choice," he said through his teeth, refusing to meet my eyes. I had to resist the urge to slap some sense into him. It was one thing to give Luna detention, but handing her over to Voldemort, who wouldn't hesitate to torture or even kill her? Had he been lying to me this entire time about his intentions?

"She's down here," Malfoy said to Rookwood, nodding down the corridor. Before I could attempt to stop him, he stalked off, and Rookwood followed, shooting me a triumphant smirk as he did.

"What is Voldemort going to do with Luna?" I hissed, aware that students were still eavesdropping from within their compartments as we passed.

"Still bold enough to say the name, are you?" Rookwood inquired. "Surely you've heard that the Dark Lord has put a Taboo on his name. Unfortunately for you, the Dark Lord always knows where you are, regardless of whether you say his name or not."

Though I wanted to ask more about this 'Taboo', my thoughts were too focused on Luna's safety to address it. "If he hurts her, Rookwood, I swear—"

I didn't get to tell him what I swore to do, though, because the three of us were standing outside of Luna's compartment now. She was seated within, placidly reading a copy of her father's Quibbler with an odd pair of goggles over her eyes, while the rest of her companions were stationed in the doorway. Neville's eyes darkened at our presence.

"Rookwood," he greeted, his chest puffed up. "Malfoy." He paused, his hardness faltering as his eyes landed on me. "Lainey..."

"Step aside, Longbottom," Malfoy droned. "We're here for Lovegood."

"That doesn't mean you can have her," Ginny spat, twirling her wand restlessly at her side.

"Would you like to accompany us, Weasley?" Rookwood asked pleasantly. "There's enough room in the cellar for both of you. There's enough room for all of you, actually," he added, surveying Neville, Seamus, and Hannah Abbott with distaste. The other D.A. members were stationed in the adjacent compartments, all peeking out to witness the scene. I noticed Zacharias was amongst them, but he wasn't so tough now that real Death Eaters were involved.

"We're not taking all of them," I countered defensively.

"You shouldn't be taking any of us," Ginny snapped, her scowl now directed at me. It could have been an act; she could have been pretending to hate me because we were supposed to be on opposing sides, but...something about the heat in her eyes informed me that this aggression was genuine.

"You don't make the decisions," Malfoy informed her. "The Dark Lord wants Lovegood—"

"You-Know-Who doesn't control us—"

"So you think," Rookwood interrupted, unfazed by her incessant defiance. "Lainey, I believe it's time for you to retrieve Lovegood. Or, if you wish to spare her, you could certainly take her place in the cellar. I doubt there would be much opposition to that."

My jaw clenched as I glared up at him, unable to will myself to look at Ginny. Would she rather see me rot in the cellar than Luna? I didn't really want to know, but I did know that Rookwood was trying to spark discord by giving me the option. Now if I didn't sacrifice myself for Luna, I would look like a monster. But could I survive the cellar again? I'd barely made it out physically or mentally last time, and I wouldn't even have Evan there to keep me from losing myself completely. How could I condemn innocent Luna to that fate, though?

No one's innocent, Malfoy had said, but was Luna guilty for her father's "crimes"? Should she have to pay? She had more of a reason to pay for the offenses of The Quibbler than I did, but I'd done plenty to deserve time in the cellar, and kidnapping Luna would only be one more sin to add to the list...

"Move," Malfoy grunted, barging through the wall of Dumbledore's Army members to approach Luna. She glanced up at him through her purple-lensed goggles with a pleasant expression.

"Where will you take me?" she asked as she stood. Malfoy balked at her affable demeanor and then looked to me for assistance.

"We'll make sure you're unhurt, Luna," I assured her, nearly choking out the words. I couldn't be certain if I was lying or not, but I would do everything in my power to ensure Luna's safety.

"We won't let you take her," Neville insisted, raising his wand toward Malfoy as Ginny aimed hers at me. I swallowed and noted that Seamus and Hannah were just as edgy, neither of them even reaching for their wands. If there was going to be a fight, it would be the three of us Death Eaters against just Neville and Ginny. I didn't like to think about how that would end.

"Don't be rash, Longbottom," Rookwood reasoned. "You remember what happened to your parents when they challenged Death Eaters, don't you?"

Neville growled, and I barely had enough time to retrieve my own wand as Rookwood whipped out his. There was a nasty curse on his tongue, and he probably would have blasted Neville out of existence if I hadn't beaten him to it and shouted, "Petrificus Totalus!"

The Full Body-Bind slammed Neville and rendered him petrified as he toppled backward into Seamus, who just barely caught him. Ginny was gawking at me, appalled, and I knew I should have repeated the spell on her, but I couldn't bring myself to utter the words.

"I wish Smith had destroyed the both of you," she seethed, referring to the skirmish in the Gryffindor locker room. Maybe I wished the same; anything would have been better than seeing that look of enraged disappointment on her face as Malfoy walked Luna out of the compartment.

An apology rested on my lips, but I didn't get to voice it before Rookwood wrapped his hand around mine. Perhaps this was the way it was supposed to be; perhaps Ginny Weasley was destined to hate me, and perhaps I deserved to be hated. I was a fool to think that things could ever be the way they once were.

I could have ripped my hand from Rookwood's grasp and Disapparated myself, but instead I embraced the darkness as we disappeared in a plume of smoke.

∆

"Well, Potter, since you know exactly where the cellar is, why don't you escort our new prisoner to her quarters?" Rookwood suggested, motioning toward the stairwell. We stood in the foyer of Malfoy Manor now, surrounded by a horde of Death Eaters. Malfoy stood beside Luna since he'd Apparated her here, but there was no need for him to restrain her since she was simply and peacefully taking in the scene with her goggles. I wondered what she saw, exactly; I saw a room full of people that I loathed, but that was really nothing new for the Manor.

"We are not putting Luna in the cellar," I snarled. "If she has to be here, she'll stay in my room—"

Rookwood laughed, and a few other Death Eaters guffawed along with him. Lucius and Narcissa stood on the stairwell, feigning superiority even though I could see how haunted their eyes were. Their house had been overrun, and even though Voldemort wasn't present, they still didn't have authority; Rookwood seemed to be running the show, and it only intensified my abhorrence for him.

"You don't create the rules, here, Lainey," Rookwood crooned. "How threatened would Lovegood be if we told him his daughter was safe, sharing a room with Potter's little sister? No, she will go in the cellar, and if you resist any further, I will have to resort to violence."

I pressed my lip together only because I didn't want Luna to be tortured. "Fine, I'll take her to the cellar. No one else is allowed to touch her or even talk to her—"

The other Death Eaters' chortles cut through my demands, but Rookwood's amusement had faded.

"We have no orders to harm the Lovegood girl," he announced to his colleagues. "She will not be harmed unless the Dark Lord specifies it."

I nodded to him as a thank you before looping my arm through Luna's and guiding her toward the cellar. She walked willingly, admiring the dingy foyer as we went. I nearly halted when I realized that Rookwood was following us, and I thought he could accompany us down into the cellar, but he stopped me at the top of the stairs, grabbing my elbow and forcing me to face him.

"You should strive to be my ally, Lainey. I've regained my influence with the Dark Lord these past months, and I could do many things to improve your quality of life. Besides, if we are enemies, perhaps I should tell Lucius and Narcissa about how cozy you were getting with their son on the train. I don't believe they would enjoy knowing that their pureblood son is so infatuated with half-blood trash—"

"You're half-blood trash," I sneered, gripping Luna's arm a bit too tightly. "And tell them, if you want. They won't care, and if you rank so high with the Dark Lord, you should know why."

Rookwood frowned. "Of course, the Vow... Take good care of our prisoner, Lainey. If you free her, you'll pay for it with more than your freedom."

I glowered at him but didn't retort before hauling Luna down the stairs. My cheeks were still flushed, and I hoped he mistook my embarrassment for anger. What did he think Malfoy and I were doing on the train? What were we doing on the train? Had I really tried to provoke him like that on a public train, surrounded by all of our friends? When had I become such a desperate whore? And did Malfoy think I was? Was that why he'd been so compliant with Luna's capture? Was this some cruel way of getting back at me for being such a vile human being? I was sick of other people paying for my foolishness.

I had to focus on being gentle with Luna as we descended into the cellar. None of my rage was directed at her, but it was swelling inside of me, threatening to unearth the worst version of me.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled to her as I unlocked the grated door with my wand. "I'll try to find a way to get you out of here, but...it might take time. Voldemort's not very agreeable."

"It's okay," she assured me in her sincere, serene voice. "It's not your fault. I'm just worried about Daddy. Do you think he'll be all right?"

"I hope so," I said, but the words sounded hollow to my ears. There were other figures in the damp darkness of the cellar, but I ushered her in without getting a clear view of them. I didn't want to linger down here longer than necessary. Too many rough memories. I promised her I'd bring her food as soon as I could before I departed, but I had no idea when "soon" would be.

As I retreated to my room, I ruminated over how lucky I'd been that Voldemort hadn't asked anything of me over these past few months. Hogwarts with the Carrows had been miserable, but we hadn't been asked to capture or kill anyone, and I should have been grateful for that freedom from responsibility. I also should have anticipated that something like this would happen. The worst part of it all was that I was...thankful that it had been Luna we'd had to capture. If it had been Ginny or Harmony or any of the Slytherin Six... I liked Luna, but I would have readily sacrificed myself for them. And then I would be back in that swampy hole.

When I arrived in my bedroom, I couldn't decide if I was relieved or peeved to find that Draco was sifting through my bookshelves. Upon hearing the door creak open, he pivoted his head and said, "Is she all right?"

"Do you care?"

He rotated fully, and displaying the weariness that had overcome him. "Would I have asked if I didn't care? Do you think I enjoyed doing that?"

"I...can't tell," I admitted, feeling my fury slip into doubt. "I can't tell if you've been lying to me about not wanting to hurt anyone—to stop me from hating you, or something. Your actions seem to contradict your words."

"You've always hated me, and I've never tried lying to change your mind. We had to take her. Her father should have known there would be consequences. I don't agree with kidnapping," he added when I opened my mouth, "but if we didn't go along with it, we would have paid for it. Now, at least, we're free and we can...help her, or whatever. You wouldn't have been able to do anything if you were stuck in the cellar with her. I couldn't let you get trapped down there again."

I bit my lip and averted my gaze. "You wouldn't have wanted to risk your life to save me a second time, hm?"

Out of the corner of my eye I saw his lips twitch upward. "That, and you have better places to be than in a prison."

There was something giddy about the way he was surveying me now, and I almost thought he was trying to entice me in the fashion that I had on the train—but then he reached his hand into his pocket and pulled out a letter that quelled my temptation. He flicked it over to me, and I barely caught it. The address on the front was unfamiliar, as was the name, but when I unfolded the paper, my heart nearly stopped.

BETHANNE PASTERNAK

&

GARREN FITZROY

REQUEST YOUR PRESENCE AT THE CEREMONY AND CELEBRATION OF THEIR MARRIAGE

SATURDAY DECEMBER TWENTIETH

LA SALLE DE BAL DORÉE

"Garren's getting married," I breathed, staring down at the invitation with wide, cloudy eyes. "But...this wasn't meant for me. Where...?"

"Demy brought it to me a few weeks ago. I...told her to steal any mail with your brothers' scents on it—just in case anything important occurred. This seemed important."

The letter was shaking in my hands and I couldn't will myself to look anywhere other than the fuzzy words. "You...didn't have to do that—"

"No," he agreed as he delicately pried the paper from my trembling fingers, "but aren't you glad that I did?"

"I...I dunno. I'm...so happy for him, but...it's just... I wasn't even invited. Garren always joked that Lyle would be his best man and I could act as the minister to marry him and his future wife—while Evan would be the flower girl." I laughed faintly, shaking my head. "But two of us won't even be there."

"You've been known to crash weddings," he reminded me, raising his eyebrows.

"And I'm sure you remember how that went last time. I don't want to ruin Garren's wedding or get anyone killed. Destruction follows me, you surely know. And, if you didn't read the invite, the wedding is tomorrow in France. We would have to leave now, and Luna—"

"Will be sitting in the cellar whether you're here or not. And you're a witch, if you've forgotten. You do know how to Apparate."

"Only to places I've been. I've never been to France."

"Well, then, it's fortunate for you that I have been to France."

Blinking, I finally met his gaze and saw the seriousness behind his crooked smirk. "You want to come with me?"

He thumbed the edges of the letter, caught in a memory of the past. "Do you think I'd rather stay here and become firewood for the Dark Lord when he finds out that I helped you sneak out?"

I pressed my lips together and tried to think beyond the bitter hint in his tone. "This is a Muggle wedding, Malfoy. We're going to have to blend in. Do you think you can even pretend to be a 'lowly subhuman'?"

He rolled his eyes dramatically. "I've seen you act like one long enough to know how it's done."

I raised my fist to playfully punch him but he grabbed it in his hand before I could impact his shoulder.

"You won't be able to talk to them, Mudblood," he warned, his fingers cold against mine. "They might remember you if you do, and that won't help anyone. We'll need to be stealthy."

"Are you suggesting that we take Polyjuice Potion?" I asked, dropping my fist from his grip. "We could disguise ourselves as my Great Aunt Bessie and Great Uncle Walter? I doubt they'll come."

"If you're going to be my date to this wedding, I don't want you dressed as some old hag," he scoffed, but then he caught onto what he'd said and a tinge of pink surfaced on his cheeks. It was reassuring to know that even Draco Malfoy could get embarrassed...and that reminded me of how I'd been embarrassed about the train incident, and now my cheeks were blushing—

"I'm going to go raid your mum's closet for a dress," I informed him as I spun to leave.

"God, don't do that—"

"What, you don't like the thought of me dressing like your mother?"

"Of course not. My mother's taste is far too classy for you. Why don't you just wear that lousy black sweater like you always do?"

"Oh?" I said, twisting to face him again with a twinkle of mischief in my eye. "Because it's easier for you to get your hands under? If you're not up to date with female anatomy, there's something hidden under the skirt of my dress that you might fancy as well."

His face was blazing that brilliant shade of red that it usually did when he was angry, but it seemed like a rarer emotion had consumed him now. "I—I wasn't—on the train—I didn't mean to—I wasn't trying to—"

"You weren't trying to sneak your hands up my shirt? I know. But I was."

Frozen, Malfoy could only gawk, and I let my suggestion hang in the air for a few moments before diverting the subject.

"We should leave early tomorrow," I advised with the hint of flirtation still lingering in my tone. "And if we're planning to escape the Manor, there's somewhere else I'd like to stop along the way."

∆

Through the square window of the door, Lisa Fitzroy appeared almost exactly the same as she had the last time I'd been in this care unit: grey hair, aging face, and tired blue eyes. She was eating bread from the nightstand to her right, staring absently at the wall across the room. There was an empty sense of peace about her. I didn't want to be the one to shatter it.

"Get in there, Mudblood," Malfoy barked, nudging me into the door. At the thud, Lisa stopped chewing for a moment, but then she resumed, as though believing the noise had been in her head. "You're stalling."

"I'm not stalling," I hissed, glowering back at him. Like usual, he wore a dark suit, but this one was accompanied by a silver tie that matched the silver designs on my black dress—er, Narcissa's black dress, to be technical. Her son had been correct when he'd said that his mother's taste was too classy for me: This elegant gown reached the floor, and I had to wear heels to compensate for my shortness. The sleeves were long and lacy, covering my Dark Mark, but I still feared someone might see it through the mesh. Malfoy, as usual, seemed unaffected by my appearance.

"I like your suit," I said lamely, trying to force a weak smile at him.

His eyebrows shot up dully. "It's the same one I wear every day and you don't like it."

"I really do. I think it looks really great on you."

"I don't believe you, and if it is true and you're admitting it then you must be really desperate not to go in there."

Gnawing on the inside of my lip, I glanced between Malfoy and the door, hoping that his disdainful expression would prompt me to open it.

"You said...last night...that you got the invitation from Garren a few weeks ago," I recalled, and apparently my words were intriguing enough that Malfoy didn't roll his eyes at me. "Why didn't you tell me about the wedding?"

He was the pensive one now, crossing his arms as he stared at the little window in the door. "I...didn't want you to get your hopes up. You know how uncertain everything is with You-Know-Who. I didn't want you to be...upset if you missed the wedding for one of the Dark Lord's missions."

"That was...considerate of you," I stammered, unsure of how to react to his uncharacteristic kindness. "Thank you...for agreeing to come here with me. It probably seems stupid but...I'm...scared to go in there."

Malfoy pivoted toward me now, his eyes riddled with the mildest confusion.

"Last time I saw her...she screamed when she saw me," I admitted, shying from his gaze. "She was terrified of me. I just...I don't know if I can handle that again."

He said nothing, and he probably thought I was a pathetic fool, but I didn't have time to dwell on it before his eyes bulged and then narrowed. Spinning around, I found that three people had just entered the corridor. My jaw slackened.

"Remus?" I blurted, feeling instantly reassured by the faint smile playing on his lips. The wrinkles on his face indicated his weariness, but at least he wasn't here to capture me on the Order's commands or chastise me for the kidnapping of Luna; he appeared pleasantly surprised to see me, as did the two redheads who flanked him. The twins broke into indestructible grins.

"H-Hi," I stuttered, staring directly at Fred as the three males halted before us.

"Fitz," he greeted, inclining his head. I could tell by the flutter of his brown eyes that he wanted to admire me in this fancy dress, but instead he averted his gaze to his blond enemy behind me. "Malfoy. Looking as spiffy as always—"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean—"

"It's a compliment, you sodding git," George snapped, though his smile hadn't waned. Unlike the last time I'd seen the twins, when they'd worn purple and orange, they now sported golden suits, giving them the shimmery appearance of Snitches. Lupin wore a drab suit that seemed as tattered as his demeanor, and the lethargy became apparent in his eyes when they slid toward Lisa's door.

"Come to visit your mother, have you?" he mused, willing that smile back onto his face. "So have we, coincidentally."

"Are you two planning some form of extravagant entertainment?" I asked, motioning to the twins golden suits.

"No, we're going to the we—"

George cut himself short when Lupin shot him a halting glare, but I'd already heard enough.

"You're going to the wedding? Garren's wedding? How'd you know—"

"The Order received word about it a few weeks ago," Lupin informed me through a sigh. "They wanted someone to go and keep watch in case the Death Eaters knew about it and were planning an attack against your brothers. I volunteered, of course, as did Fred and George. Can we assume that since you know about it, You-Know-Who does as well?"

"He shouldn't," I said, shaking my head. "We burned the invitation and we didn't tell anyone we were leaving. We snuck out early this morning to come here. I just...wanted to see her...to see if anything changed."

"She has progressed over the pass few years," Lupin noted warily. "She remembers me, vaguely, and she knew your brothers before they disappeared."

"She won't remember me," I stated without question. "And if she does, she'll scream."

All smiles faded from the group, and I could feel Malfoy's restlessness behind me.

"Your mother...she didn't scream at the sight of you. You have to understand, Lainey..." My uncle sighed, his eyes flickering in Malfoy's direction, but he plunged on regardless. "When You-Know-Who gave you the slave mark, he attached a part of himself to you, binding you to him. It isn't like a Horcrux, or really like any kind of magic, but my belief is that when your mother sees you, she sees that part of you that is bound to You-Know-Who. Her Gaudium nature makes her more sensitive to dark magic, and she sees that evil when she sees you. The reason she screamed last time and not the times before was because the last time you visited was right after You-Know-Who came back into the flesh. The bond was strengthened again, when it had been weak for much of your life."

"And now?"

"Now...well, I don't know how she'll react now. Her condition has improved, but she's still unstable. She's not as she was, nor will she ever be. We can only hope that, perhaps, one day, she'll be able to leave this place and live on her own."

"Well...why are you here to see her today?"

Lupin's awkwardness only heightened with that, and rather reluctantly he admitted, "We were hoping to bring her to the wedding, if she was having a good day."

I frowned, placing my hands on my hips. "But now that I'm here I've ruined your plans? I'll go—"

"No, Lainey," he insisted, grabbing my arm before I could plow past him. "We'll try it. If she reacts poorly...I'd rather see you go to this wedding than her. You need it."

I did need it, but I still hated the fact that they all knew it. Silently, I nodded and then followed my uncle through the door that had seemed so daunting only moments ago.

Lisa twisted her head at our entrance, and her fading blue eyes locked immediately onto her brother. A ghostly smile tugged at her chapped lips as she placed her bread back on the nightstand.

"Re...Remus?"

"Hello, Lisa," he greeted cordially. "How are you feeling?"

"All right," she answered, peering her head around him to take a glance at us. She took in the twins and Malfoy with confusion, but when her eyes landed on me, they protruded. "R-Remus—it's—it's—"

"It's all right, Lisa," he assured her, placing his hand tenderly on hers as she pointed at me. My cheeks were flaming with heat, and I wanted to run and cry, but Malfoy sensed my desire to flee and clasped his hand around my wrist before I could bolt.

"You can't run from your fears forever," he said through his teeth. There was no coddling or gentleness from him; he knew that I needed a rough edge, and I was grateful for it. With the dip of my head, I took a shaky step forward and planted myself beside my adoptive mother's bed.

"Hi—Mum" I choked out, resisting the urge to let my tears explode as she gaped at me in horror.

"This is your daughter, Lisa," Lupin prompted, pulling her hand closer to me. At first she attempted to wrench her arm from his grasp, but then he brought the tips of her fingers to mine, and she stilled at the softness of my touch. "Don't you remember Lainey?"

"Lainey," she repeated, staring at where our hands were intertwined. Her skin was coarse, so much coarser than I remembered, and I couldn't help but feel as afraid of her as she was of me. "James..."

"Yes, she was James's daughter," Lupin confirmed. "But you adopted her. Do you remember?"

"Lainey," she repeated hollowly, but her eyes met mine now, and though I was unsure of what she truly saw when she looked at me, there was a hint of recognition on her face. Perhaps Lupin's words had brought back the memories of the happiness we'd shared so long ago. "I remember Lainey... She doesn't look like Lainey."

"Yes, she has aged considerably," Lupin agreed with a reassuring smile in my direction. "Just like your sons have. Would you like to see Evan and Garren today, Lisa?"

Her face lit up as she whipped her gaze toward her brother and beamed, the first genuine expression of joy that I'd seen since I was six. "Yes. Yes. I would love that."

Dropping my hand, she slowly pried herself from her blankets, and Lupin assisted her as she stood. We left the room so she could change out of her nightgown, and as I disappeared through the threshold, I could hear her muttering excitedly about Evan and Garren. Even though a shadow of her cheerfulness had returned, I couldn't suppress the water that was swelling in my eyes. Malfoy saw, and I was thankful that he said nothing.

∆

Never in my life had I thought I would find myself riding in a horse drawn carriage, squished on a bench between Fred Weasley and Draco Malfoy, but here I was, in the same uncomfortable position I'd been crammed in for the past hour. If I wasn't uncomfortable bumping knees with both of them at the same time, the fact that neither one of them was fighting to hold my hand or dishing out snide comments to one another had me breaking a sweat. They were both being strangely civil, Fred cracking safe jokes and Malfoy being polite despite his inherent grumpiness. It should have been encouraging, but it was only managing to unsettle me.

Since Malfoy was the only one who had ever been to France, he had Apparated all four of us here separately. I wasn't sure how to express my gratitude to him; he could have easily brought me and refused to bring the others, but he'd gritted his teeth and grabbed Fred's arm to bring him here. It was mature and, frankly, unnerving, and I hadn't had time to say anything to him before Lupin whisked us into this carriage. It was slower than normal Muggle transportation, and I'd suggested getting a cab or renting a car, but apparently Bethanne and Garren wanted everyone to arrive at Le Salle de Bal Dorée the old fashion way. Knowing both of them, I imagined it was likely Bethanne's rich family wanting to show off their wealth and prestige rather than the down-to-earth couple being picky.

"I'm beginning to regret that we didn't bring Fleur," George was saying now where he sat across the carriage with Lupin on his right and Lisa on his left. My mother was wearing an old blue dress that had faded as much as her blue eyes, and I realized as I stared at her that maybe she was what was making me feel so jittery. I'd seen her in this dress before when I was young, when she was blonde-haired and in good health. Even her muscles were saggy now, giving her the appearance of a grandmother rather than a forty-three-year-old. For her sake I was glad she was here, even if she was staring blankly at Malfoy as though in a trance, but it was making me want to scream and jump out of the carriage.

"It was foolish of us to come to France without bringing the only French person we know," Fred agreed, and I didn't have to turn my head to feel him nodding. "She could have been teaching us French this very moment."

"That would have upped our chances with any of the French girls at this wedding. And Fleur would have every other male so distracted that we'd have a shot with any girl we wanted."

"I hope you realize that Garren is marrying a girl who's half Russian," I told them blandly. "I doubt anyone at this wedding speaks French. Most of them probably speak English. Bet they just thought France was more romantic or something. Besides—Angelina? Do you remember her? Your girlfriend?"

"We had a bit of a row yesterday," George replied dismissively. "Doubt she'll be talking to me any time soon. Apparently she's peeved that I haven't proposed yet. Thinks I'm leading her on or something. I'm not sure why she thinks the middle of a war is the best time to be getting married."

"The fact that we're in a war is probably why she wants to get married. What if you die—or she dies? Wouldn't you regret not marrying her?"

"Let's not get too serious here, Lainey," George advised. "I'm trying to imagine how many Muggle girls I'll be able to woo with my 'magic tricks'."

I rolled my eyes and looked to Fred for assistance, but his grin was just as goofy as his twin's.

"They'll be impressed with our trick that turns a lizard into a rose," Fred said. "And if they're not, we've always got Waltzing Wafers to force them into a dance."

"You have a lizard with you?" was all I could think to ask.

"Would you be surprised if I did, Fitz?"

"No, but—"

"I know you," Lisa's eerie voice suddenly intoned. Her trembling finger was pointed at Malfoy, whose body went rigid and eyes darted in my direction. "You...are an old friend. I know you."

"Oh God," I breathed as my chest constricted. "She thinks you're your father."

"This young man is Lainey's friend," Lupin corrected, leaning forward to speak to his sister. "He's—ah...not a threat."

"That's the nicest thing you can say about me?" Malfoy hissed, but I elbowed him in the side before he could let his agitation heighten.

"The hospital..." Lisa murmured, staring unseeingly at our knees. "You were at the hospital—"

"Oh look," Lupin interrupted as the carriage came to a stop, "we're here. I'll get out first, then George, and we'll help you, all right, Lisa?"

Even as he opened the door and descended onto the snowy walkway, though, Lisa wouldn't tear her eyes from Malfoy as she continued to mumble to herself. He pulled at his collar and shivered with the discomfort of her gaze as we exited the vehicle.

The air was frigid and the wind was strong, blowing my honey blonde curls over my face. We had been dropped into a world of white; everything in sight was covered in a thick layer of snow, and dainty flakes continued to cascade from the sky, sparkling our hair and melting on our cheeks. Luckily the driver, a friendly Muggle, had brought us right up to the front door of La Salle de Bal Dorée, a white stoned structure that rested between a dense forest and snow-covered lavender fields. The building resembled a small castle, with one large tower and a few small ones, but it wasn't particularly grandiose, and against the cloudy backdrop, it looked almost dull.

"There's nothing very golden about this place," Malfoy muttered to me as we ascended the stairs toward the front doors. When he caught my quizzical glance, he added, "La Salle de Bal Dorée—it's French for The Golden Ballroom."

"Oh," I said, feeling positively dumb. Since when did Malfoy know French? Maybe there were a lot of things he knew that I'd just never had the decency to talk to him about.

Lupin guided Lisa in through the front doors as if she were a decrepit old lady, and the twins trailed behind them, leaving Malfoy and me at the rear. When we slipped into the warmth of the building, I realized immediately why this place had been named The Golden Ballroom: all of the walls were plated in gold, and the light that reflected off of it was blinding. Grand chandeliers hung from the high ceiling like golden icicles, and the floor was like polished golden ice. I toed it with my shoe before stepping on it to make sure it wasn't slippery, and Malfoy rolled his eyes at me.

"We can't take you anywhere fancy, Mudblood," he grumbled, but I could hear the teasing in his tone.

In their gold suits, the Weasley twins seemed to blend in with the décor, and when they spun back toward us with grins on their lips, I realized they must have known that this was The Golden Ballroom. Fleur must have told them.

"Well, this is extravagant," George commented, marveling at the room. Tables covered in lacy white cloth were arranged on the left and right side of the ballroom, and at the center were rows of black chairs that led up to the white-flowered arch that Garren and Bethanne would get married in front of. We stood on what appeared to be the dance floor, but I wasn't sure I would feel comfortable dancing on what so closely resembled ice.

"Your brother chose his wife wisely," Fred agreed with an eyebrow wiggle. "Does she happen to have any sisters?"

The causal way that he asked twisted a knife in my gut, but it was foolish—and quite selfish—to be jealous at the thought of Fred fancying other girls while I stood beside Malfoy, my husband-to-be. Fred deserved to be with a girl who wasn't me, a girl who was better than me; he always had.

"Hm, I believe Bethanne does have at least one sister, but the last I heard, Evan was dating her," I informed Fred regretfully. "I don't doubt there are plenty of other rich, pretty Muggle girls here, though."

He was still smiling, but there was something sad in his eyes, a form of despondency that chewed away at his liveliness. It only surfaced for a moment, though, before he shook it off and said, "We'll worry about that after the ceremony. For now, Georgey and I have a few tricks we need to set up. Care to join us, Fitz?"

I almost looked to Malfoy for permission, but I knew how awkward that would make this, so I kept my eyes steady on Fred and said, "I think I'm going to go find a seat, actually. You two enjoy."

If Fred was disappointed, he didn't let it show as he and his twin sauntered off, whispering about pranks as they did. Lupin had already seated Lisa in the back row of black chairs, and many of the other guests were searching for a spot amongst the hundreds of seats. I didn't realize until now that, even with the danger and threats, I'd actually been worried about my brothers' happiness. I'd been concerned that they wouldn't fit in with Bethanne's family, wouldn't be able to make friends or live normal lives, but judging by the sheer volume of people that were attending this wedding, Garren had had no problem adjusting to his new life.

"Well, aren't you going to offer me your arm?" I asked Malfoy as I nudged him. He'd been surveying the overwhelming sea of Muggles with a mixture of distaste and curiosity, but when his grey eyes slid down to me, they were dubious.

"Would you take it if I did?"

Instead of answering, I looped my hand beneath his inner elbow and began to guide us toward the abundance of chairs. My uncle and my mother were seated together, speaking quietly as Lisa's wide eyes absorbed the scene. There had been no sight of either of the Fitzroy boys yet, and I was nervous to see how she would react.

"Ah, yes, Lainey, glad you decided to join us," Lupin greeted with an uncomfortable glance in Malfoy's direction. Even after spending an hour together in the carriage, I knew Lupin was still leery of Malfoy, and the fact that our arms were intertwined seemed to unsettle him even further.

"How is she doing?" I whispered, referring to Lisa, as I slipped into the chair beside him. Malfoy plopped down on my other side and studied the crowd with a scowl.

"As well as she can be... How have you been doing?" my uncle questioned with a pointed look.

"Fine, I suppose," I replied, tracing the silver patterns on my dress. "School's even worse than before, though."

"Still failing Arithmancy?"

"Is that even a question?" Malfoy injected for me, and Lupin actually choked out a laugh.

"Let's not discuss my grades, now or ever," I advised. "I was referring more to the fact that Death Eaters run the place. I assume that by now Snape has officially defected the Order?"

"You know I shouldn't discuss Order business with you," Lupin responded as politely as he could. "But that would seem obvious. How are the other students holding up at school? I worry about them. It makes me wish I'd stayed on as a professor, so I could protect them... I suppose I would have been thrown in Azkaban by now, though. Werewolves are being hunted and recruited into You-Know-Who's army, you surely know."

"You don't want to join Fenrir? He's such a delight, though."

Malfoy snorted his amusement while Lupin just smirked.

The twins were some of the last few to take their seats, and Fred actually opted to sit next to Malfoy. All three of us seemed equally disquieted, even more so than we'd been in the carriage, and I swore I heard Malfoy loose a breath when the ceremony finally began.

All of it was much too stately for my taste, but Garren was beaming when he took his place by the arch. I could barely breathe as I stared at him: his blond hair combed back, his teeth white and flashy, his build athletic and healthy. He looked so handsome in his suit, and I wished I could have told him so. He was twenty-two now, but I still saw the boy he'd once been, the big brother who would try to carry me on his shoulders...and then fail...and then throw dirt at me. Now he was so clean and sophisticated, and I could feel the heat surging in my eyes.

When Evan began to walk down the aisle, a pretty girl on his arm, my vision became so blurry that I could barely distinguish her. Her hair was nearly as golden as the metal coating the walls, but she wore a black gown that matched the chairs we sat in. Even from behind she was gorgeous, and when she took her position at the front and spun to face us, her hazel eyes, accented with golden glitter, were even more dazzling. I caught Evan shoot a wink at her as he stationed himself beside Garren, and I realized that this was his new girlfriend, Anuva, Bethanne's sister. Evan certainly had a knack for finding attractive females. First Astoria, now Anuva...

My brother looked so much better than he had only a few months ago, when we'd been trapped in that awful cellar. His cheeks were full and his dirty blond hair had regained its luster. He was fitter, broader, and, honestly, attractive. Perhaps Astoria had been justified when she'd worried that I was dating Evan. Not that I ever would; he was still my brother, still that scared little boy that Lyle and I had always poked fun at. Besides, even if I did have a crush on him, I wouldn't stand a chance compared to his new girlfriend. I was sad to think that even Astoria probably wouldn't.

When the second couple walked down the aisle, both clothed in black, I realized how depressing it was to watch them take their positions beside Anuva and Evan. That should have been me and Lyle. That should have been us, the twins, Garren's only sister and his second little brother. But instead they were two unrecognizable faces, smiling out at the crowd as though they were unaware that they'd stolen our spots. They probably were unaware, and that only increased my urge to cry.

It had been almost two years since I'd last seen Bethanne, and I'd always remembered her as a simple, sensible girl, but now she was radiant, a princess in a white gown strolling down the aisle on her father's arm. Garren choked up at the sight of her, and tears dripped from my eyes as I watched my tough big brother break into a sob of joy. At first I was embarrassed to be crying in public, but then I saw the glitter in Lupin's eyes, and after placing my hand on his, we watched as our beloved Garren married the love of his life. It was probably the first good thing that had happened to the Fitzroy family in quite some time.

The dullness of the ceremony dried our tears, and everyone else seemed equally as relieved to depart the aisles and move to the dinner tables. George said something about a group of girls he wanted to join, and Fred nodded fervently before following his twin to the other side of the ballroom. He probably wasn't acting so excited about the prospect of other girls to bother me, but it still did.

Malfoy and I sat at a table with Lupin, Lisa, and a family of blond snobs that scrunched their noses at every morsel of food brought to them. I told Malfoy they were his clones. And then he tried to stab me with his steak knife. When I managed to evade him, he got annoyed and stormed off to the bathroom. It made me wonder if maybe he had been trying to murder me, not play with me.

"So, how's Tonks?" I asked my uncle as we munched on oversized steaks. I'd always been a steak fan, but I was having a hard time swallowing the meat. Maybe it was because from where I sat I could see my brothers giggling at their own table across the room, oblivious to the fact that the small remnants of their family were here.

"Tonks is doing fine," Lupin answered, his words as strained as his chewing. The mother of the blonde family was eyeing him like he was the dessert and it was making him wildly uncomfortable.

"She didn't want to come?" I pried, mostly because I was disappointed that Tonks hadn't come. She'd always been a warming presence, especially to my brothers after our father's death, and she probably would have loved to seen Garren's marriage.

"She—ah—we...we aren't... It's not important," he stammered hastily, shoving a wedge of potato into his mouth as an excuse not to say any more. I eyed him suspiciously, and after swallowing he added, "Not to offend you, Lainey, but You-Know-Who can invade your mind easily, especially considering you're back at the Manor for the next two weeks. I don't think it's wise to give you too much information."

"You're right," I assured him without question. "As much as I've always wanted to know everything, it's best if I stay in the dark. I just...hope you're okay."

His lips smiled, but the lightness didn't reach his eyes. "I hope you're okay too, Lainey. I've never wanted to get too heavily involved in your life, but..." He glanced toward the bathroom where Malfoy had disappeared.

"You shouldn't be worried about Malfoy... And you can't, really. I... We're... I made an Unbreakable Vow. I have to marry him."

Lupin's eyes protruded. "Lainey—"

"It's all right. I'm not upset about it...anymore. It's not the worst thing the Dark Lord's forced me to do. I'll be all right, Remus, really. I just... I was hoping, maybe, you would want to walk me down the aisle one day—"

"Lainey," he repeated, his tone now doused in sorrow, "you know there will be no place for me at a wedding arranged by You-Know-Who. But I also hope you know that nothing would please me more than to walk you down the aisle on your wedding day."

I opened my mouth, attempting to muster a coherent response, but nothing came forth before Malfoy resumed his seat beside me, and I was forced into silence. Maybe it was better that I hadn't been able to speak. It probably would have come out as a pathetic cry anyway. Everything about this wedding was bittersweet, and I was almost prepared to leave when the dinner ended and the dancing began. After Garren and Bethanne's dance, Fred and George were among the first to waltz onto the dance for, both surrounded by a horde of giggly girls. Angelina would have been livid if she were here. I was trying my best not to feel anything at all.

"You can go dance with him if you want," Malfoy said so lowly that I almost didn't catch his words. The blonde family had left our table by now, and Malfoy's arms were crossed as he watched the dancing crowd, his eyes trained specifically on Fred. "You've suffered long enough because of my ultimatum. If you're just going to sit here miserably, I'd prefer that you talk to him instead of me anyway."

"I'm not miserable," I countered immediately. Though my words weren't entirely true, not all of my unhappiness stemmed from the redheaded twin. "And I don't want to dance with Fred. I want to dance with you."

He rotated his head to face me, and his expression was unconvinced. "Fitzroy—"

"Draco," I interrupted emphatically, raising my eyebrows as I also extended my hand, "don't you want to dance with me?"

"Not if you call me Draco," he snapped with a wrinkled nose. "You sound like my mother. Or Pansy."

Throwing my head back lightly, I laughed and then stood, dragging him up with me. For a moment he was disgruntled, but by the time we were on the golden ice-like dance floor, his posture mollified and he let me wrap my arms around his neck while he tentatively placed his hands on my hips. His fingers were cool through the thin fabric of my dress, and I barely resisted the urge to shiver as we swayed together, compressed by the mass of strangers. Evan wasn't far from us, pressed up against Anuva and whispering in her ear, while Garren and Bethanne were twirling each other around to the applause of spectators. I was thankful that the twins had been lost amongst the throng.

"What do you think of this?" I asked Malfoy, my voice barely audible over the melodic tune.

His brow furrowed as he glanced down at me. "Of what?"

"I—dunno," I stammered, thinking it had been obvious that I was referring to the fact we were dancing so intimately. Instead I added, "This wedding, I mean. Do you like it?"

"It's fine," he said, looking away.

"We are in a room drenched in gold and you just think it's fine? Just because they're all Muggles—"

"It's not...because of that," he interjected, frustration distorting his features as he refused to meet my eyes. "This is...nice, for your Muggle brother, I s'pose, but...I wouldn't like it."

"For ou—your own wedding?" I corrected, praying he hadn't detected my slip up. Judging by the fact that he was still staring over my head, he hadn't noticed.

"I doubt I'll have much of a choice in my own wedding," he scoffed, shaking his head. "It'll likely be the Dark Lord's choice, and if it's not, it'll be my parents'."

"Well, the Dark Lord would likely make it more of an alliance ritual than a wedding. And your parents... I imagine your mum would like something showy like this. Or she would have, perhaps. Now..."

"She probably wouldn't want to do something showy, but she would—to keep up our appearance as an esteemed pureblood family."

"What about you?" I asked quietly, earnestly. "What do you want?"

"I don't have the liberty to want anymore, Fitzroy. My choices will be made for me."

"But if you did get a choice?"

He puffed out a breath, disarranging some of the curls on top of my head. "If I did have a choice, I'd probably have to overthrow someone else's choice."

With that, his eyes pierced into mine, as grey as stormy clouds but as clear as water. Though his words were vague, his expression was enough to indicate that he was referring to me. He'd referred to it before, this hidden desire to be with me, but his gaze now was enough to raise gooseflesh on my arms. They were covered in lace, thankfully, but he likely wouldn't have seen it anyway; he'd pried his eyes away from mine and was watching Garren now.

"If I do get married on my own accord, it won't be anything like this," he added, nodding at Garren. "Look at your brother—he's happy, talking to everyone—"

"And you can't see yourself doing that?"

"No, because if I were the groom, I don't think there'd be anyone here for me to talk to," he said so blandly, so matter-of-factly, that my shoulders physically sagged with the rawness of it. "Who would come to my wedding willingly? Who would stand by my side while I said my vows? Who would clap and cheer when I kissed my bride? My parents, Crabbe and Goyle—maybe—"

"What about your aunt—Bellatrix?" I offered weakly, and he snorted.

"She wouldn't even be invited if it were up to me."

"Blaise would come," I insisted, but he shook his head, his vision far away.

"Blaise only tolerates me because he's too lazy not to. I don't have any real friends."

"I would come to your wedding," I piped up timidly. "Would that be enough?"

I knew he believed me because the look that washed over his face was one of undiluted shock. Perhaps he caught the hidden connotation, or perhaps he thought I was implying I was his friend, his real friend, his only real friend, and that was enough to baffle him. Perhaps I was his only real friend, but I never got to hear his thoughts on it, because Fred chose that moment to emerge from the crowd, halting our dancing and our dangerously suggestive discussion. I'd never been so disappointed that Fred Weasley had interrupted a conversation between Draco Malfoy and me. I almost felt guilty about the lack of enthusiasm at his appearance.

Fred let out a breath that sounded like "Hello", and his grin didn't even falter at the sight of Malfoy and me in this tight embrace. His cheeks were flushed, and I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen him this genuinely thrilled. My heart ached at the thought of all the times that dancing with me had brought that glow to his face. Was I just another girl to him, one of many? I hoped I was. It would be better that way, better for him.

"Mind if I steal your girl for a dance?" Fred asked, and I jolted at the fact that he'd called me Malfoy's girl. My dancing partner was completely stoic, though, unmoved by my new title.

"Oh, well—"

"Do you want to?" Malfoy asked me before I could spew something embarrassing. He loosened his grip on my waist, indicating that he already knew the answer to his question. There was nothing malicious in his eyes, though; he was truly asking me if this was what I wanted, giving me a choice. I realized then that he didn't want to own me, he didn't want me to be his girl—and he only wanted me to dance with Fred if I truly wanted to. Because he could sense that a part of me, a small part that I had always ignored, wanted to stay in his arms rather than dance with Fred.

"I—um—sure, we can dance—for one song," I stammered, forcing a smile up at Fred. He thought my hesitation was an act, and I was cruel enough to let him think so even as Malfoy jumped his eyebrows at me and then disappeared in the swarm of bodies.

"Well, I certainly wasn't expecting him to let me have you," Fred mused, watching the spot where Malfoy had vanished. With a shrug, he took my hand and twirled me around. I nearly screamed at the unstoppable momentum, but then, as I spun to face him, he grabbed my waist and pulled me close enough that I could smell his familiar scent of candies and explosives.

"Well," I said, when I could finally find my voice, "I didn't expect you to be so pleasant to him."

"He is your future husband, isn't he? I s'pose I have to be nice to him if I want invites to the Manor for tea."

I let out a laugh at the thought of Fred, Malfoy, and I sitting in the drawing room where Voldemort held his meetings, causally sipping tea. The thought became far less amusing when I remembered that Charity Burbage had been devoured by a snake in that room. "I don't think you want to come to the Manor. It's gloomy."

"Nowhere can be gloomy if you're there, Fitz."

I smirked, but my thoughts were too somber to muster more than that. "He'll always be jealous of you, I think."

"Well, that's reassuring."

I rolled my eyes at his harsh humor. "He told me that if I wanted to talk to him, I had to stop talking to you."

"Ah, so that's why I haven't heard from you in months." He threw me into another nauseating spin before I could register his facial expression, and when I was looking up at his face again, there was only coolness there. "Did he steal the blackboard?"

"No," I admitted, fidgeting slightly in his arms. "I...have just been ignoring it. I decided...it would probably be better if we didn't talk so much anymore. I thought it would be easier to get over you."

"And has it been?"

I bit my lip, struggling to meet his warm brown eyes.

"Are you already over me?" he blurted, clearly surprised but not necessarily appalled.

"I...dunno." I stared at my finger as I traced it over the shimmery fabric of his suit. "I loved you so much, but it all feels like it was a dream now, a cruel, fleeting dream. Even if we found a way to break the Vow, could things ever be the same? I just...I don't think so. And I don't think I would want to burden you with how I am now. I'm not the Fitz you knew, and I don't think I ever well be. I've done so many things wrong... Even last night I did something awful."

When I finally winced up at Fred, his eyebrows were perked with intrigue.

"Did it involve using one of Bletchley's Baby Blockers?"

My jaw dropped at his implication. "No—"

"Did it involve forgetting to use one of Bletchley's Baby Blockers? That would be the worst case, I reckon."

"I did not—we have not—I had to kidnap Luna for You-Know-Who," I spluttered even though I wanted to ask how he could so nonchalantly refer to my sex life with Malfoy.

"Ah, I see," he said ponderingly. I knew he was probably relieved that I hadn't slept with Malfoy, but worry still riddled his expression. "Well, I s'pose that's not too terrible. Doubt Luna knows what the word 'fear' means. She'll probably cheer the Death Eaters up so much that they'll just release her."

I considered for a moment and then nodded. "Perhaps. But you didn't see the look of disgust on Ginny's face when I had to take her."

"Oh, you know Ginny," he scoffed. "She'll hate you for a while, and then she'll see reason and get over it."

He was probably right, but it still made me queasy. "Do you think I'm an awful person?"

"No, but you have been known to make awful mistakes."

As he flashed a mischievous smirk, I lifted my hand from where it rested on his shoulder and punched him. Instead of grunting he chuckled.

"Everyone makes mistakes," he insisted, grabbing my hand before I could punch him again and placing it back on his shoulder.

"You made a mistake by involving yourself with me," I said, fighting to keep my tone dark even though his smile was contagious.

"Perhaps, but I don't regret it. I'd rather have the short time we did than nothing at all."

His sober sincerity made it difficult to ask my next question, but it was the one that nagged me most, the one I'd craved the answer to for years.

"Would you hate me...if I told you that I think I love Malfoy?"

Fred didn't pause our dancing; he didn't freeze or falter or even blink. "No, Fitz, I wouldn't hate you, because if you told me that then you'd finally be telling me the truth. And that's all I've ever wanted from you."

I'd been expecting a different response, and I realized, as my eyes burned, that I'd been hoping for a different response. It would have been so much easier to be cold to him if he was jealous and angry, but Fred was completely calm, completely rational, completely selfless. Still, though, I felt like he was stabbing me in the heart, just like I'd stabbed him so many times before.

"I hate this," I nearly sobbed, forcing myself to look away as I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I'm just...I'm so close to everything I used to love but it's so out of reach."

"You've had to give up a lot because of You-Know-Who. It's okay to cry, Fitz," he added upon seeing the tears brimming my eyes. "I can't imagine going to George's or Ron's or Ginny's wedding and not being able to talk to them. I've always admired your toughness, but you don't have to do this alone. I'll always be here for you, even if git Malfoy says you're not allowed to talk to me."

I forced a smile through bleary eyes and lifted my hand to wipe away the wetness. "I think he'll come around...once he's convinced that we're just friends."

"Oh, don't say that, Fitz. I can't stand the thought of that prat tolerating me. No, no, George and I will be sure to harass him until the day we die, but...I s'pose at some point it'll turn into a joke."

I rolled my eyes. "You are relentless with your pranks."

"Speaking of pranks..." He released me for a moment and then reached into his golden pocket to pull out a small black pouch. "No Nose Nuggets, as requested. Thought you might fancy distributing them at the Manor right under You-Know-Who's nose."

Taking the pouch, I laughed and shook my head. "You knew I'd come here?"

"I hoped. That's part of the reason George and I agreed to come with Lupin. Also I was hoping to hook up with a Muggle girl..." He peered over my head as if searching for a girl, and I allowed my lips to curve upward.

"You'll have to prank her first—as a test to see if she's worthy of you and all your glory."

"That's not a poor idea," he agreed, raising an eyebrow. "You will always be one of the best pranksters I know, though, Fitz. And, even though you're off the market, I'd rather have you as my friend than as nothing at all. Malfoy allows you to have friends, doesn't he?"

"I think the problem is that you'll never be just a friend."

"I am now," he said, and though his tone was confident, I could see the lingering sadness in his deep brown eyes. "Be happy, Fitz. I hope that one day I can come to your wedding and see your beautiful smile, even if I'm not the man standing next to you."

"Don't say that—"

"What? You aren't going to invite me? Will it be a Death Eater only event?"

"I just...can't imagine you...standing up there with someone else," I managed, nodding toward the arch that Garren and Bethanne had stood under hours ago. "And I wish I could. You deserve so much more than me, Fred—"

I paused abruptly as my eyes caught onto the entrance of the ballroom, where two people were entering through the golden doors. I was so overcome with bemusement that I dropped Fred completely and backed away.

"I—um—I'll catch up with you. I...I have to go—"

"Fitz—"

"I'm sorry," was all I said to him as I shoved through the crowd toward the entrance, where the couple stood, surveying the room with dazzled smiles. Anderson wore a dark suit with a pink bow tie that matched Astoria's sleek pink gown. She wasn't wearing lipstick, which was odd, and their hair was so disheveled that it appeared as though they'd just rolled out of bed.

"What are you two doing here?" I questioned without preamble as I stepped before them. They'd been so awed by The Golden Ballroom that they hadn't noticed my approach.

"Blimey, Mud," Anderson blurted, stumbling back. "What are you doing here? And—is that Malfoy?"

I followed his eyes to the dessert table where Malfoy was grouchily munching on pastries. "Yes—we—I—did you follow us here?"

"Follow you? No, of course not. We were just, well, we got caught up at the hotel—"

"Because we were bonking," Astoria finished for him, unashamed. "It's not embarrassing, Vince. We know all about Lainey's sex life. We lost track of time, of course, but then we remembered that we had to come here, to the Anderson family reunion."

"F-Family reunion?" I repeated, nonplussed.

"Well, it's not really the Anderson family reunion, technically," Anderson corrected. "My cousins are technically the Pasternaks—"

Astoria emitted a shriek before Anderson could finish his thought. No one had really heard her because the music was blaring so loud, but the expression of horror on her face was enough to nearly stop my heart.

"What, Astoria? What is it?" I demanded, trying to trace her gaze into the crowd of dancers. It was impossible to tell who she was gawking at—

"I see him—I see—I see...I see..."

"Who? Who do you see?"

"Evan," she answered emptily, her eyes now ghostly and blank. "I see Evan, with his new girlfriend."

I saw him too now; he and Anuva were parting the crowd with their gaudy dancing, and Evan's new girlfriend was an annoyingly skilled dancer. All of his childhood fear and awkwardness was gone, and even though he resembled Evan, I knew that Astoria was seeing a completely different man, a stranger that she'd once known.

"That's Evan?" Anderson blurted as he found my brother in the crowd. "Damn, now I understand why you always preferred him over me... He's a good-looking bloke. Everything makes sense now. Evan must have sucked up all the hot genes, Mud, which gives you a decent excuse for the way you turned out—"

"He's not even my biological brother—"

"I have to go," Astoria said, much in the same way that I'd just uttered those words to Fred, and then she disappeared, sprinting across the ballroom until she was out of our view. Anderson seemed confused but not particularly concerned as he averted his gaze back to Evan, admiring the boy that Astoria had loved for so long. I was still too shocked by their appearance here to really compute the whole situation, the fact that Astoria was seeing Evan for the first time in over a year and he indeed had a new girlfriend. I'd fabricated the lie that he simply didn't want to be with her anymore, not that he completely forgot about her existence. Would she try to talk to him? She would be even more distraught to think that he didn't remember her. But, I would have thought that with her newfound relationship with Anderson she might truly be over my Muggle brother...

"Do you think she'll be all right?" I asked Anderson.

"Yeah, she'll be fine," he answered dismissively. "Probably just going to fix her makeup since I messed it up. Oh, yeah, Astoria and I had sex, if you didn't catch that part. Didn't want to brag about it if she didn't, but now I feel free to describe to you how great it felt—"

"Why are you here?" I questioned before he could relay any more unnecessary details. "This isn't a family reunion—"

"Not really, but it's the first time I've seen most of these people in years. Bethanne and Anuva are my cousins, you know, but I haven't seen them in two years, probably. They're always busy in foreign countries. And now, apparently, Anuva is busy banging your brother. And—wait...Bethanne—"

"Is now married to Garren, my brother, yes," I confirmed exasperatedly.

"Wow, so...we're related?"

"Legally, maybe? I'm still a Fitzroy by law, and now Bethanne is too—"

"Cool, so you're my cousin-in-law?"

"Um...sure?"

"Harper is gonna be so jealous," Anderson enthused, nearly bouncing with his giddiness. "I'm gonna go introduce myself to Evan, my other new cousin-in-law. I think I'll ask him for some tips about Astoria—you know, like, what positions she likes, and stuff."

"No," I blurted, utterly aghast. "Don't do that. Please—"

But Anderson had ignored my pleading and was trekking through the crowd, determined to ask Evan for sex advice. I was prepared to follow him and try to thwart this chaos and confusion that he was about to unleash, but then the doors opened behind me, admitting a chilly and snowy gust of wind as Augustus Rookwood entered The Golden Ballroom.

Being the closest person to the entrance, I was obviously the first person that Rookwood's eyes locked onto, and his lips curled into a sinister grin as he swung the door shut and sauntered up to me.

"Well, Lainey, now I see why you were so careful when departing from the Manor this morning," he mused, surveying the crowd of Muggles. "Just imagine all of the deaths if the Dark Lord knew where you were. He would level this entire establishment, and what a shame that would be. Your brother put on a nice act of crying as his wife walked down the aisle."

"It wasn't an act," I seethed through gritted teeth. "And—you were watching?"

"Of course I was watching. I've been watching for quite a while. You've certainly had your fun—two males in one night—"

"Why are you here?"

Rookwood folded his hands in front of him as his eyes swooped over the wedding guests. "To bring you back to the Manor—"

"So the Dark Lord can torture me?"

"Well—" He stopped, his mouth dropping wider as his eyes locked onto a point beyond me. I swiveled my head to find he was staring directly at Lisa, where she stood by the desserts with Lupin and Malfoy. The three of them seemed to be engaged in a highly tense conversation. I would have found the sight of them almost entertaining if Rookwood weren't staring at my mother with that...that look. That eerily human look. That look that didn't belong on his grotesque face. That look—that same look that Malfoy had been giving me earlier. That look that plagued someone who was staring at a priceless jewel that they could never afford.

"She's here."

My jaw was clenched as I glowered at him. "Yes."

"She looks...well."

"She's been doing well. And I'm not going to let you ruin it—"

"Ruin—" he began to repeat, but he cut himself off with a caustic laugh. "I strengthened her, Lainey. You simply can't understand it—"

"I understand that she hated you even though she needed you. But she doesn't need you now. She's recovering without you—"

"She might recover better with me—"

"Then why haven't you gone to see her until now? I know you've stared at her through that window, but why haven't you talked to her? Tried to heal her, bring her back to life?"

Rookwood's expression was grave when his eyes met mine. "If you can't answer that yourself, you've never lost anything that you can never have again."

I had lost things, though, so many things. And if I had the chance to mend them, to retrieve them, I would, but...I understood him; I understood that he wouldn't want her back unless she was whole, unless she was the way she was. And she never would be.

"Well, what are you going to do, then?" I prompted. "Kill her? Throw me at the Dark Lord's feet? Burn this whole place?"

"I'm going to bring you and Draco back the Manor," he answered calmly.

"And then?"

"And then all three of us are going to pretend this never happened."

I blinked. Twice. And I knew I should have kept my mouth shut, but— "Why? Why wouldn't you want to tell your master about my disobedience?"

"This must have been torture enough," Rookwood replied carelessly. "To see your brothers when they can't see you, when they don't know you... Besides, the Dark Lord has more important issues on his mind. And if he believed that Lisa was healing..." He shook away any apprehension and narrowed his black eyes at me. "Get Draco now. I won't ask again. My patience is thinning."

I almost wanted to bring Rookwood over with me, to introduce him to my mother and see if his presence healed her, but...she was doing fine, and if she saw the darkness in him like she saw it in me... I didn't want her to scream that horrific scream, not here, not anywhere. Anderson was probably causing problems with Evan, Astoria was probably sobbing in the bathroom, and Fred was probably snogging some pretty girl in a corner, but I dismissed it all and retrieved Malfoy. My only regrets were that I didn't get to congratulate Garren before we Disapparated and that I'd decided to come to this wedding at all.

Luna's capture is canon in The Deathly Hallows, though Lainey obviously wasn't the one to do it in the real books.