I know you're happier now but it hurts.     

-

Easter arrives early this year, and before I know it, the Hogwarts Express has rolled back into Platform 9 ¾, the frost on the windows having barely melted from the icy months before. Draco pulls me into an empty compartment, tucks a strand of dirty blonde hair behind my ears and tells me he'll see me soon, tells me to keep safe, tells me he wishes everything could be different but he swears it will be, in time. Kisses me like kissing can save his life.

And when we stand on the platform and he has no choice but to go home, to go back to a house built on unhappiness; when he has turned away and his hand has slipped out of mine and he thinks I am no longer watching, I catch a sour expression pulling at his pale face. The boy who had no choice.

But besides his sharp edges, Draco is becoming more and more like his old self – the boy full of smirks, sarcasm and snarky comments; the boy who pinned me against a wall and murmured in my ear when we were supposed to be bitter enemies. That was the exhilaration I glimpsed today. My head still spins from his touch – on my hands, neck, then my waist, then my legs – and then gone, snatched away from me suddenly as his friends opened the compartment door. Unfortunately.

I jump as a hand catches my shoulder.

"Isobel," says Ginny. She looks breathless and somewhat windswept. "I've been calling your name for ages."

I try desperately to wrench my mind from the compartment, from my fingers in his soft hair-

"Sorry. I was just thinking about something."

Ginny wrinkles her nose. "I hope it wasn't Malfoy. You've gone pink, you know."

I feel my cheeks heat up even more. "Just homework."

Ginny gives me a look that says I might as well have told her I was thinking of proposing to Filch. "Regardless of whatever disgusting things were going on in your brain-" she says, and I supress a smile – "I have something really important to tell you."

She glances at the crowd around us, then pulls me behind a pillar. I frown. "What-"

"Remus Lupin is here," says Ginny in hushed tones, her eyes not on me but darting between the people that swarm around us, anxious to know that no one is listening in. "I asked him if he had any news on Luna. He hasn't heard anything, but is sure all captives are being held in-" her eyes finally fall on mine – "Malfoy Manor."

The words are sharp as knives, and a mass of questions fling themselves at me at once. Are Draco and Luna under the same roof? Are Draco's parents the ones keeping her hostage? Is Malfoy Manor really that bad? I blink. "It can't be. He'd know... Draco would have known, surely, if Luna was being held in his house."

"What if he did know?" says Ginny urgently. "Maybe he didn't tell you. Isobel, this is our only lead-"

"Of course he would have told me," I say, stung that she still distrusts him like this.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Is Remus sure..."

Ginny nods slowly. "Is it possible Malfoy doesn't know? That his parents didn't tell him? Because I really think Remus is onto something. It's a big, intimidating house, with lots of security measures; it's the perfect place for hostages."

As much as I hate the idea of Luna imprisoned in some room, I can feel comfort creeping into my heart - Draco's home sounds a thousand times better than the tiny, cold cell I'd imagined her in.

"I can't mail him," I say. "Letters are still being monitored. I guess I'll just have to... Show up, won't I? Do my best to break her out?"

Ginny hesitates. "Is that safe?"

"Safer than Luna spending another day locked up. Like you said, it's just a lead. If Luna's not there, I'll be out as soon as I know it. Besides," I say, carefully watching Ginny's expression. "Draco won't let anyone hurt me."

Ginny pulls a face. "Can I go too? I wouldn't want to intrude on your canoodling, but as Luna's life is at stake-"

I snort. "Are you joking? Harry Potter's great love, show up at Malfoy Manor? Not a chance, Gin. At least I can get away with pretending to be on their side. And no offence, but Draco doesn't really care for you. He wouldn't bother protecting you, should anything go wrong."

"The feeling is mutual," grumbles Ginny. She runs a hand through her long, flaming hair; a poorly masked attempt to conceal the blush that arose at the Harry comment. "When are you going to go?"

"Tonight, of course," I say, and Ginny looks alarmed. "I have to go tonight. What if they're not feeding her? What if they're..."

I can't go on, but Ginny is nodding already. "You're right," she says. "She's been gone for months. Just be careful, Iz."

"I'll be fine." And even though I don't believe a word of it myself, I say, "They'll probably all be distracted by Draco's return anyway. Too distracted to... To notice Luna and I."

"Right," says Ginny, but I can tell she doesn't believe it either. The truth lingers awkwardly in the air between us – Malfoy Manor is a dangerous place to visit, and even more dangerous to break in to – or out of.

"I'll be fine," I repeat. "If anyone can get in there, it's me. Besides, Draco will help."

"I wish I could go," says Ginny wistfully. "It would be easier with two of us-"

"You can't," I say shortly. "The way Draco speaks about it, it doesn't exactly seem like a cosy, homey house. Anyway, I've been there before. I'll be alright."

Ginny rolls her eyes. "Mum wouldn't let me anyway. It's a shame Neville isn't here, he'd have loved to cause ruckus in the Malfoy house."

"I'm glad he isn't," I say darkly, and the thought settles uncomfortably over me. Neville breaking into Malfoy Manor would inevitably end up in him fighting a Death Eater and nearly getting himself killed for the hundredth time. I've never met Bellatrix Lestrange, but from what I've heard, the Carrows could only dream of her ruthlessness.

As Ginny pulls me into a hug, an emotion I can't identify flickers over her face. Regret? Or the pain of deep concern? "Be safe," she whispers. "If I've hurt you, it's only because I care about you."

That night, I sit with my mother on a couch in the living room, drinking tea and talking about our year so far. I grew up in this house, know every corner and crevice, but with my father gone, it feels like an entirely different place. My mother knows it too, which makes it so difficult to leave.

I have missed her like crazy, but as we speak, all I can think of is Luna. Now that I think I know where she is, it is easier to picture her suffering, and with every minute that passes, fresh anxieties creep into my mind. Even when my mother tells me how lonely she is, even when she sheds tears about my father, my mind buzzes only with the prospect of getting Luna back to safety. It's awful, and I feel guilty – of course I do – but this is finally, finally something I can make better. Finally something I might be able to fix.

As my mother stands up to go to bed, she pauses and turns. Her deep blue eyes used to remind me of the ocean, but right now, all I can see in them is pain. "It's not safe here anymore, Isobel," she says softly. "What your father did made the Death Eaters angry. I don't know how much longer we can hide away here."

I grab her hand. It feels too fragile; thinner than I remember. "Then move, Mum. Get out of the country, go somewhere you know you'll be safe. I'll be fine here, I promise."

She puts her hand to my cheek, her eyes pained. "I won't lose you too, Isobel," she whispers. "I'll never, never leave you."

But I'm leaving you.

I shove the thought from my mind; impatiently brush away tears as I throw on the fanciest outfit I can find; strapless top, fitted skirt - anything to make me fit in with the lavish Malfoy Manor. I brush mascara through my eyelashes, slick on lipgloss as fast as I can – channelling the snobbiest, most prestigious version of myself I can muster. I curl my hair and let it hang loose down my back. Then I grab a quill and scribble a note to my mother. I'll be back soon.

Will I? How soon?

That doesn't matter. My mother is hurting, yes, but Luna is suffering. Luna, who showed me ultimate respect and kindness no matter what I did. Luna, who supported my every decision and is the only person who never told me 'no'. I fold the note and leave it on my bed – a bed I haven't slept in for months. I'll be back soon.

Before I can think twice, I twist and Disapparate.