Eve

            Draco looked extremely pale and shaky when he finally got back from speaking with his parents, and he seemed as though he was seconds away from pitching to the floor.

I was pouring out coffee into two separate mugs when he entered the kitchen alone, nearly a half hour after he'd left the parlor with his mother. Turning to face him as I set the half-empty pot back on the stove, I gave a small smile and asked a bit teasingly, "How'd it go? Was it about the firewhiskey?"

But Draco wasn't meeting my gaze or returning my grin, so the smile quickly faded from my lips. I turned away from the stove as he quietly shut the kitchen door behind him, my voice much more serious as I asked, "What's wrong?"

He unsteadily moved farther into the kitchen, stopping on the other side of the counter so the wide span of marble separated us. I watched him carefully as he rubbed his face tiredly, his gaze fixed on the two cups of coffee instead of up at me. When he finally spoke, his voice sounded raspy and raw—like he hadn't used it in days. "It's...it's not good, Eve."

I swallowed hard as I tried not to assume the worst, my mind spinning with anything his parents could have just told him. Draco looked like his legs were barely keeping him upright, so I told him in a soft voice, "Please sit down."

It took him a second to finally pull out the stool on his side of the counter, eventually taking a seat and resting his elbows on the countertop to keep himself from falling off. Draco was staring down at the two steaming mugs without saying anything, so I said nervously, "Just tell me what's wrong. Draco, you're scaring me."

This made his eyes finally flick upwards to meet mine, his grey eyes mixed with specks of gold now suddenly dulled in vibrancy. He reached around the mugs and I automatically took his hand in mine, leaning against the counter so I could be closer to him. "Sorry," Draco said quietly, "I don't mean to scare you. It's just—it's about what's going to happen in the fall. The Dark Lord, he...he doesn't want me to go back to Hogwarts."

I blinked, wondering why something like that was such a bad thing; after all, we'd been thinking that going back to Hogwarts wouldn't have been possible anyway. I began carefully, "But...that's okay right? We can just stay here instead."

Draco visibly winced at the last sentence, and my mouth abruptly closed. That couldn't mean...no.

"He...he wants you to go without me," Draco told me after a second, his words sounding uneven and broken. When I still stared at him blankly, he continued softly, "He wants you to go back to Hogwarts."

I wanted to automatically tell him that it was okay, that I would be okay being alone at Hogwarts, but the lies tangled up in my throat before they could make it past my lips. The idea of going back to Hogwarts alone—especially after what I had done the night Dumbledore died—made my knees feel weak, and I slouched against the counter to keep from falling over.

After long moment of silence, I was finally able to choke out, "...why? Why does he want me to go back?"

Draco's eyes flicked back down to the counter, like he couldn't bring himself to look me in the eye. I couldn't see his expression as he answered slowly, "I don't know. I guess they just...they want to have a Death Eater that's a student."

My stomach lurked then, remembering that Snape was going to be headmaster and the Carrows would both be professors next year. It was obvious that Hogwarts was going to be much, much different from what it had been right before we'd left.

"Why do you have to stay here?" I asked in a tiny voice, but what I really meant was, 'Why do I have to go back there without you?'

"He needs me to stay at the Manor to help," he told me quietly, still looking down at the counter more often than he was looking at me. Carefully, he continued, "I don't know for what, but...it can't be good."

When I didn't say anything right away, Draco forced out, "You'll probably be safer at Hogwarts than you would be here. And maybe...maybe it's better for you to get out of here."

I was so busy trying to hold myself together that I didn't notice his voice had turned bitter from lying, or that there was something more he wasn't telling me.

I couldn't bring myself to say anything around the giant knot that had formed in my throat. I wanted to tell him that no, nothing could be worse than being apart from him; I'd gladly go through hell here at the Manor with him instead of returning to Hogwarts alone.

Draco's grip on my hand was tight as he watched me try to keep myself together, but I couldn't bring myself to look up and see his expression; I knew he probably looked incredibly guilty, as though he really thought this was his fault. Like he'd been reading my mind, Draco said in a voice scarcely above a whisper, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry—"

"It isn't your fault," I interrupted softly, but my voice wavered and I worried he didn't believe me. "It really isn't."

"I know, but—" He broke off, his mouth opening and closing for a second as though he was searching for the right words. After a moment he managed to continue in a low voice, "Things are getting bad, Eve. It's only going to get worse, and—and I wish I could change it."

            I forced myself to look up at him again, and his eyes were so misty with guilt that his irises were clouded. He didn't blink as he continued to talk to me seriously, his voice deep with sincerity. "I'm going to try and fix this, okay? I'm going to do whatever I can to make sure we don't get separated. I can—"

            "Draco," I said gently, "I'll be okay. Please, don't do anything that'll get you into trouble. If that's what You Know Who wants, then...then I'll just go back to Hogwarts. I'll be alright."

            "But I don't want you there alone," Draco told me, his voice nearly pleading now. "Not with the Carrows as professors and Snape in charge of everything. And especially not with Zabini, Eve, I won't be there to watch out for you."

            I wanted to lie to him again and tell him that I would be okay, but the words suddenly wouldn't come. Draco hadn't said it, but we both knew that everyone at school would have to know by now that I was a Death Eater; no one would dare to even come near me if I went back, not after what had happened the night Dumbledore died. I would be an outsider.

            I couldn't even bring myself to think about what Ginny would do the next time she saw me, not to mention Neville or Harry.

            Draco held my hand tight then and whispered, "How am I supposed to protect you?"

            His voice sounded so broken, and I could see how upset he was that this was beyond his control. I reached over the fading steam from the coffee and grasped his left shoulder, gently pulling him towards me and kissing him softly. When I pulled back after a moment, he was leaned forward a little as though he hadn't wanted me to stop. Seeing how glassy his eyes looked, I told him in a quiet voice, "You don't have to worry about me. Okay? I'll stay out of the Carrows' way, and trust me, I'll ignore Zabini."

            "But what if—?"

            "Don't worry about me," I repeated gently, forcing a tiny smile that I was sure didn't reach my eyes. "I don't want to be without you, but we don't have a choice."

            The word 'choice' hung in the silence between us, because it had been such a long time since either of us had had one. Draco swallowed hard and looked into my eyes, his own brimming with tears that he was trying so hard to hold back. With one hand holding my cheek, he choked out, "I just want you to be safe. I can't stand the thought of being away from you for that long."

            My chest twisted as I realized how much it would hurt to be without him for months on end, but I forced myself not to let it show. If Draco knew I was more upset than he was, he'd feel even worse. I squeezed his hand tight and told him, "But I can come back here for the holidays. And it's only for one more school year, then we won't have to worry about being separated again. Right?"

            Neither of us knew what things would be like at the end of my seventh year, but Draco nodded anyway. His voice was thick as he said, "Yeah. You're right. Sorry, I just—I hate this."

            "Me too," I admitted quietly. We stared at each other for a moment in silence, the two mugs between us slowly growing cold with time. I shook my head as I tried to picture myself boarding the train without Draco beside me, breathing softly, "What am I going to do without you?"

            Draco pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and shook his head, telling me in a nearly silent voice that he was going to be lost without me. It was then that I couldn't stand it anymore and came around the edge of the counter, collapsing against his chest just as he stood from the stool. He wrapped his arms around me tightly and pulled me flush against him, his hands tangled in my hair and my lips pressed against his neck.

            I closed my eyes and pushed the terrifying images of returning to a changed Hogwarts without Draco, desperately trying not to think about what things would be like when I went back. The first of September wasn't for about another month, but it was suddenly looming much closer than it had been yesterday. I'd told Draco that I would be okay, but in reality, anything could happen when Snape was headmaster and the Carrows were professors.

            It didn't take a genius to know that Hogwarts would be hell with Death Eaters running it.

            Later that night, when it was a little after midnight and Draco's parents were asleep, I snuck out of the guest bedroom and quietly hurried down the hallway towards Draco's room.

            He was lying on his back staring at the ceiling when I opened the door, but he automatically looked over at me standing in the doorway. Without a word, he rolled onto his side and lifted up the sheet towards me, his eyes shining in the semi-darkness of his bedroom. I slipped through the doorway and tiptoed around sneakers and dirty t-shirts, neither of us saying anything as I quietly lay down beside him.

            Draco let the sheet fall over me, and his warm palm skimmed my shoulder, making goosebumps appear. He craned his neck forward and kissed my forehead, his lips cool and soft against my skin. I didn't want to break the silence by telling him that I loved him—he knew how much I loved him anyway.

            I rolled onto my other side and Draco moved with me, pulling my back tight against his chest with his right arm draped over me. I held his right hand with both of my own against the mattress, feeling his breath tickling down across the back of my neck and my collarbones. He kissed the smooth spot just below my ear, whispering almost silently, "We'll get through this. We always do."

            The moonlight washed over the both of us, and we lay there together in silence for the rest of the night. We still hadn't moved even when the pale sunlight began to leak through the windows, or when the soft sound of morning doves began to melt through the glass. Neither of us managed to fall asleep, but neither of us attempted to break the silence again.

           We had realized that nights like this—nights where we were together under the same roof—were suddenly very numbered.