"Wake up," a voice whispers in my ear.

My heart is in my throat, my body more alert now than I ever remember it being. I practically leap upright, but my head bangs something before the blurriness of sleep has left my eyes. My face tightens as I cradle my head in my hands. If I could open my eyes, I'm sure the whole world would be spinning. The vertigo makes me nauseous.

Someone grunts beside me, and then hisses. I force my eyes open and see Draco, holding his nose in his hands. Blood is gushing through his fingers.

It was real. It hadn't occurred to me that it wasn't, but I was sure I would wake up still trapped with Blaise. Yet, I'm here, and Draco is bleeding.

"Sorry," I manage.

He's standing next to the bed, holding his nose in his hands. I drag myself out of the covers and over toward him. My feet are on the ground, and I slip over to him. I manage to keep myself steady.

"I'm fine," he insists. "We don't have time."

I take his hands in mine, pulling them away from his face. He peers down at me, wide-eyed. His hands are soaked with blood and his nose is gushing. The sight doesn't frighten me. Perhaps my calm demeanour would have made me helpful in the war, even if I wasn't particularly talented at practical magic before my wand and I went through the bonding trauma.

"Do you know how to cast any healing spells?" Draco asks.

I nod my head, running the charms I've learned through my head. I find my wand on the bedside table and raise the tip to point at him, "Episkey."

There is a crack, and Draco's nose brightens red. I'm sure I've made it worse, but then he uses the sleeve of his shirt to wipe off the blood. It smears across his face, staining it.

"I am sorry," I manage. "I thought... well."

"It's fine," he winces when he smiles.

Draco wipes the blood off his hands, leaving a red stain on his skin. He grabs my chin, tilting my face toward him. He examines the top of my head, but I pretend there is no dull ache.

We are together, here in his childhood bedroom, and we are somehow quite sade. It shouldn't be surprising, but it is. This place feels very nearly familiar. I can taste tomato soup on my tongue. The Draco in front of me is Draco, and not someone puppeting his skin.

"I'm just tired," I lean toward him, resting my head on his chest.

His arms wrap around me. He smells like sweat, but I'm sure I must smell worse. My entire body aches.

"Do you have clothes that I can borrow?" I ask, leaning back at him.

Draco's face softens. He is wearing the same clothes he wore yesterday, a grey button-up, wrinkled everywhere, and dress slacks. I'm sure if he had other clothes, he wouldn't be wearing these.

"Here," he opens his wardrobe, letting me peer inside while he reaches in.

There are clothes there. He pulls out a cashmere turtleneck, black in colour. I turn around and change into it. I listen as he continues to dig around the drawers.

"All I have are pajamas for bottoms," he says. "Joggers are more of a muggle thing. I have more trousers though."

"Trousers will do," I tell him, turning back to look.

He digs through another drawer. It is deeper than I had expected, like his trunk. It might seem easier to summon the clothes that he wants than to search through them like this. It seems strange that his family has chosen a manor which takes up so much space when it is possible to make huge spaces out of small areas. I suppose it's to show extravagance. Men don't show off walk-in closets, butif they did, I'm sure he would have one.

"Mopsy's only going to be able to hold off Pansy for another minute," Draco says.

My eyes widen, "she's here?"

"Mopsy came to tell me right before I woke you," he shrugs. "I was a bit preoccupied with the broken nose."

I manage to pull on the trousers as quickly as possible. I feel less gross now, with some of the smell gone. Draco helps me with a spell to make the trousers fit around my waist. The turtleneck isn't too tight. It seems that Draco was a bit smaller years ago. Certainly, the shirt wouldn't fit him now.

"How old are these clothes?" I ask.

He shrugs, "maybe four years old? I only came back home for a few hours before I went on the run. I'm surprised my mother didn't have Mopsy go through the drawers."

I can't imagine him in clothes this small. Really, I don't have time to imagine, because once his trousers have been properly tightened, we don't even put on our shoes before hurrying down the hallway. He grips me tightly, each of us holding our wands in our free hands. I don't think I can fight Pansy. I tried to disarm Blaise and that went poorly.

The sound of someone apparating comes from behind us. Draco practically throws me behind him. I only barely catch the sight of the girl behind him, standing at least ten metres away.

She is shorter than I had expected, even shorter than I am, but she is just as jagged as I had pictured her. Her black hair, so short it doesn't hit her shoulders, is messy. There is so much static in it that I wonder if she was hit by some sort of electric spell. Her jaw and nose are sharp, and her eyes are sharper. She holds her wand pointed toward us both. It is knobby, bent it all sorts of odd shapes. Actually, it resembles the branches of a dying tree.

"Put down your wand," Draco orders.

"Hello to you too, Draco," she muses. "It's been so long."

I want to speak, but there is a knot in my throat.

"Let's find somewhere to chat," Draco says. "Without wands."

Draco puts his wand into the pocket of his trousers. From behind him, I wait for Pansy to do the same. She blows a strand of hair out of her face, but it only falls back in front of her eyes. She snaps her wand, and Draco throws me aside. I smash into the ground, as a burst of air rushes out of Pansy's wand toward her. It blows the hair out of her face, but it falls once again.

While Draco moves to help me up, Pansy cackles, "did you seriously think I was going to attack you right now? Please, it's both of you against me."

"You've always liked to be ahead of the trend, or do the unexpected," Draco answers.

I take his hands, stumbling up. All of this harsh movement today, after yesterday, is going to ruin what is left of me. Draco holds my waist on both sides, his wand in his pocket.

Pansy rolls her eyes, "I'm not foolish enough to be unarmed after what you did to Millicent."

"You never liked Millicent," Draco counters.

"Well, yes, but I would prefer that I didn't get blamed for a violent attack against her," Pansy scoffs. "She's running her mouth about me, not you. Have you not read The Prophet?"

Draco doesn't shake his head. I go to speak, but he tugs me closer to his chest. I ignore him.

"Isn't Millicent dead?" I ask.

Pansy looks at me and nearly laughs, "no. Nearly, but no."

None of us speaks. I don't know what to say. Draco might, but he keeps his comments to himself. She hasn't attacked us yet. Even though I'm the only one holding a wand, she stands still.

"Are you a legilimens, Pansy?" I ask.

I can hear the sound of Draco gritting his teeth.

Pansy looks behind him at me. She blinks, and then shakes her head, "unremarkable. You're so unremarkable."

I do not speak. Instead, I try to take a step forward, toward Pansy. All I have heard of Pansy leads me to believe that I am putting myself in more danger than it is worth, but there is something in her that I recognize. It's a familiarity, but not one from a memory. Draco keeps pulling at me, refusing to let me go.

"Do you have Veritaserum?" I ask, turning to look at Draco.

"Nice try, but I know he's an occulmens," Pansy rolls her eyes.

"For me," I correct.

She tightens her jaw, "stay out of this, you nasty little mudblood. I'm sure Draco appreciates when you open your fuck hole, but I don't."

"If you speak to her like that I'll cut out your tongue," Draco snaps.

I ignore him. His anger lets me yank myself out of his grip so I can quickly rush closer to her, so that I am halfway between Draco and Pansy. He doesn't grab me back, thankfully. Now, I'm out of his reach.

"I think you'd rather talk to me," I reply. Then, I turn my head to look at her. "The aurors have Blaise."

"So, they are coming for me next?" Pansy's voice is shrill.

She shakes her head. Her feet, in high heels, step closer and closer to me. Draco rushes forward, but I try to hold my ground as he grabs my hand. The second that Draco loses is enough for Pansy to catch up to us. She puts her wand on my neck and runs it up to trace my jaw. I have to push Draco away to prevent him from grabbing at me or Pansy. I've got no idea if he's going to move to protect me or kill her, but perhaps he'd do both.

"Blaise altered Theo's memory," I try to explain without trembling. I'm somewhat successful. "My memory too."

I cannot see Draco, even though I can feel him hovering a metre away.

Pansy laughs. She nearly cackles. Eventually, the sound dies down, "what?"

"Pansy, can we go sit in my bedroom?" Draco spits the words out rapidly. "Discretion, and all that."

She pauses for a second, scanning me up and down. She smirks, "well, this ought to be entertaining before I kill you."

She apparates, even though Draco's bedroom is not far away. Draco and I walk back. He grabs me by the elbow, pulling me as we walk. I'm fine to move on my own, but he drags me with him.

"Stop talking," he hisses, leaning down to whisper the words in my ear.

When I shake my head, I'm careful to avoid hitting him again, "no."

"You don't know what you're up against," Draco tries to explain. "No matter how smart you are, Pansy cannot be reasoned with."

We enter back into his room. Pansy has taken a spot on the leather chair, and so Draco and I sit opposite her on the sofa. The leather creaks. I doubt anyone has sat here since Draco last lived in Malfoy Manor. I wonder if this is the room where he killed Theodore Nott. I have no clue if the murder even happened at Malfoy Manor. Actually, from what I've heard, it does not seem likely.

"So, your plan is to tell me that Blaise convinced Theo that he killed your mudblood whore?" Pansy asks, rolling her eyes.

Draco moves to stand, but I pull him down this time. He glares at me, which I ignore.

"We don't know why," I tell her. "When Goyle found me, I wasn't even aware of magic."

"I expected a better lie from you, Draco," Pansy shakes her head. "I expected such ridiculous and outlandish stories from a Ravenclaw. Your excuses are usually better."

My eyes go to Draco. He is quite stiff, glaring at her. I take a deep breath, in and out. He doesn't want me to speak, so I guess I will listen. The house is quiet. I would expect a manor this old and large to have a draft, or to creak, but there is no sign that anything exists outside of this room.

"You don't know what Hell the last two months have been," Draco finally says to her.

She looks at him, furrowing her brow. Her eyes scan his face, inch by inch, "you mean to tell me... well, your story anyway, is that Blaise found out about a little muggle-born you had kept in hiding, and so he kidnapped her, altered her memory and Theo's, and so you killed Theo in earnest thinking he had killed your mudblood, and then, on top of all of this, you happened upon her nearly two years after the war?"

"Pansy, do have some class," Draco rolls his eyes.

At least she referred to me without a sexually degrading comment. While her words are quite vile, I don't focus on them. There are more pressing issues in my mind.

"It sounds ridiculous," I agree. "We don't understand why Blaise didn't just kill me."

"Blaise does not like killing people himself," Pansy sighs. "He is such a prissy boy that he cannot stand do to dirty work. That's not the part which is far-fetched. I just doubt that he would bother with a memory modification charm rather than just obliviating you. Besides, Blaise doesn't seem like the type to set up Theo as collateral damage."

"I doubt Blaise actually thought I would react to Theo the way I did," Draco points out. "You know how I was with Theo."

Pansy's gaze flickers around the room. She shakes her head. Then, she stands. Draco watches her carefully as she treads around the room. I want to tell her that Harry Potter could prove I was telling the truth, but I do not want to ruin Harry's future all to please Pansy Parkinson.

Pansy digs into the desk. She pulls out something. It dings.

A bell.

She smirks at it, before putting it back down on the desk.

I stand, trying to get a better look. It is not the bell that I bought in Inverness. This bell is different. Draco pulls me back down onto the sofa.

"Aren't you tired of fighting?" Pansy asks, finally glancing back at Draco. "That's why you've created this elaborate lie, isn't it?"

"He isn't lying," I say. "I don't know how to prove it to you, but honestly, I remember very little between the ages of eleven and my disappearance. I know Theo was your friend, but Draco is also torn up about killing him when it was Blaise all along."

Pansy's eyes turn to look at Draco. She cracks her neck and then steps in front of us.

"Make an Unbreakable Vow," she says.

Draco looks from her to me, "she won't be able to be our bonder. The magic is too complex."

"Right, since she's lost all her memories of magic, so you say," Pansy steps closer to us. Her hands, with long burgundy fingernails, wrap around her hips. "Fine, then she can make the vow with me."

She offers me a hand. I stand up on my own, staring at the pale palm of her hand.

Draco looks from Pansy, back to me, and then back to Pansy once more. He shakes his head.

"She's not making an Unbreakable Vow," Draco says, grabbing my other arm.

"Should we have Mummy dearest officiate then?" Pansy asks, blinking. "Since you insist your mudblood can't-"

"I'll do it," I say.

Draco stands up as well. He turns to me and shakes his head, "no."

"Why?" Pansy asks. "She won't die if she upholds her end of the Unbreakable Vow. All I ask is that she is always honest with me about everything that has occurred up until today, and if your story is true, I will not kill her."

Even though I want to agree, I hesitate. If I agree to be honest, I am putting everyone who has helped me in harm's way. I bite my lip. My life is not worth any more than their lives.

"No," Draco says.

"I will be honest with you about every event since Easter of 1998 up until Draco took me to Hogsmeade in November and then every event after I arrived in Derry until today," I tell her. "I won't lie about what occurred during those missing weeks, but I do not have to tell you what happened during them. In exchange, I will not be killed."

Pansy smirks. She holds her hand up once more, her wand still gripped tightly in the other.

"That is not enough," Draco says to Pansy. "Pansy, you will do your best to protect Marty from harm. If you know that something you or someone else does will cause Marty harm, you will do all in your power, short of harming yourself, to protect her."

Pansy bites her lip. She twirls her wand in her fingers and looks at me. Then, Pansy takes my hand in hers. Draco mutters something to himself and then places the tip of his wand over our hands.

It is Pansy who begins, she asks me to agree to tell the truth, specifying the dates which require my honesty, and then when she is done, I ask her to agree to the other terms as well. A stream of yellow magic erupts from Draco's wand after each vow. It burns red, and though the sun is up, it glows bright and ignites the room.

Then, Draco stops. The magic settles into our skin. Pansy slowly releases herself from the grip.

"I suppose you are more interesting than I gave you credit for being," Pansy begins, nearly smirking as she examines the fading gold lines on our hands. "Tell me the story from its beginning."

~~~~~

This is long enough that it could have been two chapters, but it isn't, so I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think! We are rounding toward the end of the story, so I'd love to hear from you.