TRAINING WHEELS

SHELL COTTAGE

15th March 1998

Despite Fleur's best efforts to get people to come and join her around the table, nobody could stomach dinner that night. Amora had sat down out of obligation, though she didn't touch the steaming Shepherd's Pie set out in front of her. She'd merely sat and forced smiles and spoke with Bill and Fleur who were all too eager to find out how she was doing after months of being held captive.

Draco sat up in the room Amora had stayed in last summer. All of her stuff was still there left untouched. He fiddled with the necklace that Amora had given him on their first Valentine's Day together, hoping that maybe his mother would sense that he was calling out to her through it. For all he knew, Narcissa may have buried the necklace to the bottom of a random drawer, never to be touched again. It didn't stop him from trying, though.

When Amora returned from her conversation with Bill and Fleur, she was unsurprised to find him still hunched over the necklace on her bed, his long legs folded. She'd massaged the back of his neck and asked him to try and sleep for her, and so they did. Draco's hand clutched the necklace around his neck all night, his spare arm wrapped around Amora and bringing her closer to his chest.

Morning came and Amora's head felt a lot less foggy than the night before. She lifted herself out of Draco's arms, allowing him to snore away peacefully, his brows furrowing for a second before his creases melted away. Amora went to head for the hallway so she could use the bathroom only for her shin to collide with a box.

Amora grunted and went to move it aside with her leg, but it seemed too heavy. She kneeled down, lifting one of the lids to see what was inside. Her heart stopped when she realised it was filled to the brim with things that had once belonged to her mother. She instantly recognised the neatly folded jumper at the top, and the books on Muggles and the picture frames and the jewellery box and everything else.

She realised that, like Draco's bag, it had been charmed so that it could fit more things than appeared possible. Amora's hand scurried around it, wrapping around a small glass bottle. She unscrewed the cap and lifted the perfume to her nose, inhaling the faint scent of it without spraying. It was as if the air had been knocked from her lungs. It smelled like hugs from mother after hard days – exactly what she needed now. It was warm and familiar and it brought back so many safe and comforting memories.

Amora sniffled, a couple of tears running fast and hot down her cheeks. She swallowed the hard jump in her throat. It felt pointy and large, like it was never going to go down properly. Amora stuffed the perfume back into the box. It was like the sweetest torture in a bottle – a reminder of what she could still have if things had just played out a little differently.

Amora swiped the tears and headed for the bathroom to hop into the shower. She assumed all of the hair products were left out for guests anyway, and so Amora scrubbed and cleaned herself until it felt like she couldn't feel any of yesterday's events on her skin. No Bellatrix gripping her hair, no Pettigrew yanking her arms, none of Dobby's blood on her hands...

Amora climbed out of the shower and began was rinsing the last of the soap suds off of her body when suddenly, the bathroom door opened. She screamed loudly, and so did the person on the other side – their voices suddenly becoming a competition for who could be the loudest.

"Get out!" She screamed at the ginger blur behind the fogged glass door, clutching her breasts and lifting her leg so he couldn't see anything. "Get the fuck out, Weasley!"

"You didn't lock the bloody door!" She heard Ron shriek as he quickly took a step back, slamming it shut.

Amora scrambled to get out and grabbed a robe off of the radiator. She wrapped it around herself speedily and yanked open the door, pointing a finger in Ron's face.

"You don't just walk in on people! Didn't you hear the water running?" Amora yelled furiously. Perhaps if it was anybody but Ron, Amora would have been a lot more understanding – but oh gosh did this Weasley annoy her.

"What's going on?" Hermione's tired voice came from a couple doors down the hall, her head peeking out.

Amora's own bedroom door opened and Draco stood there in just his dark green and black plaid pyjama trousers, his brows furrowed. He glanced between Amora and Ron.

"The fuck did you do, Weaselbee?" Draco snapped.

It was Harry's turn to poke his head out of his door, and then Luna seemed to appear further down the hall too.

Amora shook her head. "He walked in on me showering."

Draco's eyes darkened, his head snapping to face Amora. "What?" He looked back at Ron. "Are you fucking insane?"

"It was an accident!" Ron quickly protested, lifting his hands up and moving back when Draco glowered down at him. "I obviously didn't mean to see her naked!"

"You saw her?" Draco growled.

"Okay, okay," Hermione muttered, moving forwards and grabbing Ron's arm. "Ronald here sometimes lacks some common sense, okay? Amora, I am terribly sorry – you must feel quite violated, but he truly didn't mean to, er, walk in on you showering."

Amora held her chin higher. "I would like to hear an apology from Ron himself. All I've heard so far are excuses."

"Because it wasn an accident!" Ron growled. "Merlin, you are insufferable, Buckley!"

"Hey." Draco glared, his fists clenching by his sides. "Watch what the fuck you say, Weasley. Apologise to her. Now."

"Ron," Harry cut in when he saw his redheaded friend open his mouth to spit out yet another argument. "Even if it was an accident, you should still just apologise."

Amora couldn't help but smile smugly upon seeing Ron's exasperated expression. She folded her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Ron," Hermione hissed at his hesitance.

"Okay, okay. Sorry," Ron grumbled out. "There. Better?"

Amora rolled her eyes. "Not very sincere, but it will do. Next time maybe don't go in the bathroom if you hear the water running. Or knock, perhaps."

Draco couldn't help but smirk slightly at the short temper Amora seemed to have developed when it came to Ron Weasley. He'd always been the most spiteful out of the trio after her relationship with Draco had been exposed – even if Harry was the one who was hurt mostly by it. She was fed up with his glares and small comments and the way he thought he could get away with insulting her and Draco to her face.

"I said that I –"

"Look," Hermione cried, lifting her hands up. "If we are all going to be staying with one another for a little while, then we are going to have to at least be civil. Ron, Amora, I'm not saying you have to be best friends, but can you at least just... ignore each other? Politely?"

"But why do those two have to stay here?" Ron pointed to the Hufflepuff and the Slytherin.

"There aren't many places for anybody to go right now, Ronald," Hermione glared, "Besides, Amora was staying here in the summer –"

"Oh, I know. She'd left all of her things about when I stayed here over Christmas."

"Shut up, Weasley."

"Guys," Harry yelled, "Can you all just shut up? There are more important issues going on right now. Like a whole fucking war, for starters. Amora and Malfoy are staying, Ron."

"Are we forgetting the part where he's a Death Eater?" Ron said, "Buckley easily could have converted since we last saw her. After all, she was looking for him the night Dumbledore died. Probably to run away with all of his little –"

Ron was cut off by a hand smacking across his freckled face. He groaned, immediately clutching his cheek and staring down at Amora in horror. Her hand throbbed so she knew she had gotten him good. It had been a long while since Amora had been able to hit someone that had pissed her off. She couldn't lie - it felt good.

"I am not a Death Eater!" Amora cried, "How - How dare you! And for the record, Draco isn't a Death Eater, either. He may have the mark, but that is all."

"The mark means Death Eater, dimbo."

"Don't call her that," Draco seethed through gritted teeth. "Look, I've never supported the Dark Lord. I just did my bit so that my mother stayed safe. And I told Dumbledore the truth – I told him everything. But your golden saviour still forced me to go through with letting the Death Eaters into the school. He still asked me to kill him that night."

Harry's face contorted into an expression of disbelief. "What?"

"It's like what I told you at Bill and Fleur's wedding," Amora said, "Dumbledore has had a plan this entire time, Harry. He told me one thing, Draco another, you something else. He always spoke to me about the bigger picture – that I had to let Draco do his thing and keep it a secret if I wanted this war to work in the Order's favour."

"Well what did he tell you?" Hermione frowned at Draco.

"Well, for starters, he offered me the position of a double agent – in favour of the Order," Draco said, pausing for the gasps from everybody. "And I accepted. Over the summer, I fed the Order everything I knew about the Dark Lord's plans. Then things started to get really bad and I stopped hearing from them. I haven't seen Shacklebolt or anybody else for months now."

"You're a double agent?" Ron repeated in disbelief.

"I am, Weaselbee," Draco sneered. "I trust I can tell you lot, considering the rest of the Order seemed to know."

"Amora..." Harry glanced at her. "Is what Malfoy is saying true?"

"Don't trust me, Potter?" Draco raised a brow.

"We shouldn't trust Buckley's word either –"

Ron was cut off by a whack to the arm from Hermione.

"It must be true," Hermione said, "That's why Bill and Fleur said they were fine with Malfoy staying when you were throwing your little hissy fit last night."

"Of course Draco's telling the truth," Amora replied, "I was so furious with him when I found out what his real tasks were and when he hadn't told me the truth. Even when I was taken to Malfoy Manor, I didn't forgive him until he told me that. Until he told me that Dumbledore wanted him to carry out those tasks and not involve anybody else."

"But why would Dumbledore want Malfoy to let Death Eaters into the school and kill him?" Hermione mumbled to herself, her eyebrows pulled together.

"For this bigger picture, it sounds like," Luna finally contributed to the conversation, drifting closer to the older years. "Perhaps these were all things that had to happen in order for Harry to succeed in the long run."

"But -" Harry breathed out, running a hand through his messy dark hair. "But Dumbledore told me nothing. He gave me stupid riddles and messed me around and sent me on a wild goose chase for the past seven months. He knew it would lead to me having to – to finish this war, and still – still he told me nothing! He didn't tell me about Godric's Hollow, or that he had a sister, or anything to do with Grindelwald or – or –"

"Harry," Hermione exhaled shakily, reaching out to console her friend. "Dumbledore clearly had things that he kept from you for a reason. All we can do now is work with what we got."

"What are you lot doing, exactly?" Draco narrowed his eyes on them. "What have you been doing in the past seven months that has gotten you closer to defeating the Dark Lord?"

"Can you stop calling him that?" Harry grumbled.

Draco merely raised an eyebrow but offered no apology or correction.

"We can't tell anyone," Ron said, "Nobody can know."

"You're looking for something," Draco said, watching Ron's eyes widen. "I heard Potter and Granger mention something about it on Christmas Eve – when I saved your arses from those Death Eaters. Aha, see? Another reason for you to trust me."

"That doesn't make us trust you," Ron said, "If anything, it makes me wonder what the bloody hell you have planned. You're still that sleazy git that called Hermione slurs and always harassed Harry. The only reason you're defected is for Buckley. Don't bother trying to even convince us that you're not a prejudiced piece of shit."

Amora's lip curled. "Do you want me to smack you again, Ron? Draco's been through so much, just like we all have, and he's changed – just like we all have, too. Why do you have such a hard time believing it's for the better?"

"Because he's Malfoy!" Ron snapped, "It's in his blood."

"Who's making judgements based on blood now?" Amora scowled.

Draco placed his large hand on Amora's shoulder as she leaned forward to glare at Ron. "Don't bother with Weaselbee, Amora. Whether he believes I am a danger or not doesn't bother me. I won't be losing any sleep over it."

Harry sighed stressfully, rubbing a hand over his forehead. "Right. It's probably best you just stay away from them, Ron. And I'm sure they'll stay away from you too."

"I'll be keeping my eye on you two," Ron muttered bitterly before he stormed into the bathroom, slamming it behind him.

D.M + A.B

17th March 1998

It wasn't until two days later that Amora felt strong enough to open the box full of her mother's things. Fleur briefly explained that Mr Buckley had come back to get his things when school had started back in September, and she decided to pack away Professor Buckley's belongings to have more room in the house. However, Amora's room had remained untouched – they knew she would be back, apparently. And she was welcome.

Draco sat on her bed, his hands on his necklace as always. He kept clutching it and releasing it, then writing words inside with his wand. Amora began to take things out of the box, finding a ragged old teddy bear to the bottom. Her heart swelled as she clutched it in her hands.

"I was thinking of making a sort of grave for my mother," Amora said, staring down at it. "Harry burying Dobby sort of reminded me that... I don't know. She's never been mourned properly. She hasn't got a body to bury, or – or people to stand around and share all the happy memories she made with them, but..." Amor swallowed. "I think she deserves something."

"Of course," Draco murmured, slipping off of the bed to kneel beside her on the ground, one of his arms snaking around her waist, the other reaching to gently grasp the teddy. "What's this?"

"It was mine when I was a baby," Amora mumbled, "She... My mother used to sew it little outfits that matched mine, and I took it everywhere with me until I was about five. My mum always kept it with her. Said it reminded her of when everybody was happy and things were easy or something."

Draco stroked the back of Amora's hair, pressing his lips to her temple. "We can do whatever you'd like for your mother."

Amora forced a wavering smile of gratitude. She placed the teddy to the side of the box, alongside a bunch of other things that she had taken out. Draco watched her curiously, asking questions in the right places when she would examine something particularly long or pull out anything that peaked his interest.

"I don't know what I'll do with so much of this stuff," Amora admitted. "I don't have the heart to throw it away."

"Then don't," Draco murmured, "Keep it in this box. We'll find somewhere else to stay eventually and then you can take out what you want."

Amora gave a small nod. "I was never really allowed into my parents room without their permission, or unless they were in there. Lots of this stuff I've never seen before."

Draco stayed silent, watching Amora bring out what looked like another antique jewellery box. As a Pureblood family, the Diggorys used to be rather well off, and so it was encrusted in many different jewels. A few were missing from age. There was a small gold lock that kept it shut, only that had been damaged too. It fell open, the lid heavy and the mirror inside cracked.

"Photographs," Draco murmured, looking down at all of the polaroids.

"They're old." Amora plucked up one of her mother smiling at the camera – she had to be in her mid twenties. "And they're not moving. They're Muggle ones."

Draco detected the confusion in her tone. "Well, she was the Muggle Studies professor," he reminded her.

"Yes, but..." Amora's suspicions were confirmed when she flipped the photograph and found the date scribbled on the back in ink. "July 1979."

"So?" Draco furrowed his brows.

"I think these are the photographs that my – that Klaus was talking about," Amora muttered stiffly. "When he told me he wasn't my real father, he said he'd stumbled upon photographs of her and some Muggle man. That's how he found out – when I was about ten."

Draco pursed his lips together. "Are you sure?"

"I don't know," Amora admitted. "I might be wrong, but I'm not sure if I want to look or not."

Draco held her hand. "I could look for you, if you would like?"

She nodded hesitantly, handing Draco the box full of upside down polaroids. Draco took one last glance at Amora, checking her over, and then he pulled a photograph from the top. It was another one of Amora's mother in her early twenties, and she seemed to be in Muggle London. Draco recognised the London Eye behind her. She had a smile that reminded him of Amora's.

"This one is fine," Draco murmured, handing it over to Amora.

Amora took the picture, skimming her thumb across it thoughtfully. "I keep feeling like I never really knew her. She hid a lot from me. I just... I wished she would have told me. She looks so happy here, in the Muggle world. This was during the first war, wasn't it? Right around the peak of it. It was probably such a relief for her to get away from Klaus and the Order and to just... be with him."

Draco nodded, keeping quiet. He flipped through another photograph and then he paused.

"I think you were right," he said finally. "I think these are the pictures Buckley was talking about."

Amora pursed her lips, feeling her heart pound harder. "What is it? Is it a picture of him?"

"I think it may be." Draco held it up closer to his face. "He – I mean, Amora, pull that face you make when you're reading."

"When I'm rea –" Amora's face scrunched up. "I don't know what I look like when I read."

"You have the small little pout and your eyebrows are slightly furrowed..." Draco said, "You know the one."

"No, Draco, I don't. What does this have to do –"

"He's pulling your reading face. I – It's as clear as daylight, honestly," Draco murmured. "I think you don't just take after your mother like everybody always said."

Amora's breath hitched and she swallowed. "Should I... Do you think I should look?"

Draco stared across at her. "Would you like to?"

"I think so," she admitted. "What would you do in this situation?"

"I don't know," Draco said. "I'd be very angry. I don't think it's this Muggle man's fault, though. If Buckley is truthful about your mother never telling your biological father, then... well..." Draco trailed off, losing his words for a moment. "Look. If I'd lost my mother like you have, I would search for this man for answers at the very least. I'd want to know."

Amora was silent for a few moments. "Okay," she finally said. "Okay. I would like to see it, please."

The blond-haired boy sent her a pursed-lipped smile and placed the photograph down in her outstretched hand. Amora took a deep breath as she lifted it up to look properly.

This man seemed to be in some sort of cafe, and her mother must have been sitting opposite him when she took the photo. He was looking down at a coffee cup, pulling the face Draco claimed she also made. He had dark hair – thick and slightly curly and down past his ears in a typical seventies fashion. He had a strong nose that was nothing like Amora's, but the shape of his dark brows and his eyes... Mr Buckley had been right to say they were hers too.

"Would you like to see another one?" Draco asked softly. "This one seems to show him a bit clearer."

Amora swallowed and nodded, accepting the photo that Draco was holding out to her. His hair was shorter, and the date on the back of the photograph was December 1979. Amora would be born in about eight months.

He was smiling for his photograph, holding a bunch of flowers and standing on the shore of a beach – Muggles walking all around him. He had one of the kindest smiles Amora had ever seen before. It looked like he had been laughing when it was taken.

"I don't know what to say," Amora whispered, her throat clogging with several different emotions.

"I have one of them together," Draco murmured, watching her reaction carefully. "It says March 1980. If he never knew of your mother's pregnancy, then this may have been one of the last times they were together."

Amora chewed down on her bottom lip and stuck her hand out. She didn't trust her voice right now. Draco handed over the photo and her heart immediately skipped a beat.

They were sitting on a sofa, her legs draped over his lap and his arm wrapped around her waist. She was smiling, her head resting on his shoulder. Professor Buckley looked happier than Amora had ever seen her with Mr Buckley. The Muggle man was pressing a kiss to her temple.

"There are other people in this picture," Amora said, "And somebody else must have taken it."

Draco watched her. "What does that mean?"

She knew he meant 'why does that matter?'

"It means my mother didn't just have, like, a boyfriend. My mother had another life where she had friends too, and maybe some of those people are biologically my family. Maybe I do have grandparents or more cousins, I don't know," Amora muttered, "And somehow it makes me angrier at her, too. She kept all of this from me. I could have... He just looks so nice. I could have had a real father. Someone decent – a family that wasn't a lie."

"I'm sure she only did it to protect you," Draco whispered, reaching out to rub her hand. "She probably would have loved to see the two of you together."

Amora blinked away tears of... frustration? Anger? Sadness?

"I don't want to dwell on the past." Amora eventually said, putting the photographs back in the box. "I don't even know his name. Klaus never knew his name either. And... And even if I did know who he was or where to find him, I couldn't do it."

"Why not?" Draco demanded.

"Because - Because he probably has a proper family by now," Amora laughed bitterly, wiping her tears. "Who needs some random teenager turning up on their doorstep saying that they're the product of a relationship he had nearly eighteen years ago with a woman who vanished out of nowhere? He probably resents my mother for just leaving. And – And his kids, they probably don't come with as many issues as I do. I'm like walking baggage."

Draco grabbed her wrist before she could wipe her falling tears again. "Don't you dare," Draco said furiously. "Don't ever make out that you're a burden to anyone. That man would be the luckiest in the world to have you in his life. If he was the love of your mother's life, chances are that she was his too. He would probably have killed to have some sort of explanation – and you, Amora, would be like a gift sent from the Gods themselves."

Amora pulled her arm away from him. "I couldn't," she protested, "Besides, then I'd have to explain to him that my mother was a witch and so am I. And I don't know half as much about Muggles as my mother did. We'd have nothing in common – I don't know how to use their public transport, or – or how to use that telly thing my mother had, or who any popular Muggle people may be."

"Don't rule him out," Draco pleaded with her, grasping her hands. "I know it will be one of the hardest things you'll have to do – but holy shit, Amora, you deserve some happiness and I think you'd kick yourself when you're older if you knew you didn't try reaching out. You deserve a loving parent. Don't let him miss out on you, Amora. Please don't. And the Muggle thing – of course it's going to be... strange, but – but once an explanation is given, I am sure he'd be open to learning more about you."

Amora ran a hand through her dark hair. "It's just... all messed up."

"I know," Draco breathed, his face softening as he shifted to wrap his arm around her again. "But think about it – maybe you'll have some half-siblings to get to know. Or more cousins, like you said."

"None like Cedric," Amora sniffled. "It won't be the same... We're from two completely different worlds, but... but I suppose you are right."

Draco smiled softly. "As always," he teased, earning a small nudge.

"It will have to be once the war is over," Amora mumbled, nuzzling her face into his chest. "And when I'm ready. I'm not ready for any of that yet. I want to work myself out first – then I can even start thinking about looking for this Muggle man I know nothing about."

"Understandable," Draco replied, stroking her back. "Completely understandable, darling."

"Merlin, what would I do without you?" Amora breathed shakily, grasping him tighter.

"I think the same thing every day about you."

D.M + A.B

21st March 1998

Amora couldn't help noticing how secretive Harry, Ron and Hermione were. It was obviously surrounding whatever they were looking for that would help them defeat Voldemort, but Amora wondered what it had to do with Griphook and Ollivander who they had frequent, quiet conversations with behind closed doors. She only ever caught snippets of talk – stuff about swords (probably the one Bellatrix had attacked Hermione over), speak of wands and even something to do with the Deathly Hallows.

She knew that if even Hermione was stuck on whatever it was, there was no point in offering her assistance. They'd only reject her anyway. What they were doing was so secret that they'd told Bill to butt out of it a few times, and besides, they didn't trust her. Ron especially, but she caught longer glances from Hermione and Harry. As if they still weren't completely sure about her.

She left the cottage whilst Draco was showering, her feet taking her further behind the cottage where there were some small slopes. Behind one of them, it was like a dip in the ground, a private space that could only be seen from higher points. Amora slid down to the bottom of the small slope and used her small spade to dig up some of the earth. Inside of it, she placed her old teddy bear and a folded photograph of her and her mother from years ago. She covered it back up with the earth and patted it down. Amora placed a large smooth stone on top, and burned mum into it with her wand.

The dark haired girl climbed out of the little slopes, heading back for Shell Cottage. The sun was setting in the distance, the wind slightly nippier as it blew her hair behind her and bit at her rosy cheeks. She stuffed her hands into the sleeves of her jumper, hesitating when she saw a familiar figure standing facing out towards the sea.

"It's calming, isn't it?" Amora mumbled, coming to a stop beside him.

Harry looked surprised to see her standing beside him, but not shocked. "I... er, yeah. It is. It's better than being in there, with so many people."

Amora nodded sympathetically and then the corner of her lips quirked upwards. "Back in early fifth year, I used to have these dreams..." She admitted, "Maybe only once or twice, actually, but they were my favourites. I always remembered them so vividly. You were in them. So was Hermione, Ron, Kathy, Leon, Cedric... And of course Draco, Pans, Theo, and Blaise."

Harry's brows furrowed as if wondering why she was telling him this.

"We were all at my house. It's a lot like Shell Cottage – just smaller. We swam in the sea, hung by the shore. Everybody got along with one another, you know, laughing and talking. It was just perfect," Amora sighed, rubbing her cold arms. "It's everything I wanted."

Harry's face softened in realisation and he swallowed slightly.

"I hate that you guys all think I'm some evil person and that you never really knew me," Amora murmured, "I'm still the same girl that reads until she passes out and likes way too much honey in her porridge in the mornings. You three were some of my best friends; I never ever did anything to intentionally hurt you. I held back for so long with Draco, but... I really do think we would have ended up together at some point down the line anyway. He's... He's my person."

Harry remained silent, his eyes on the ocean ahead. Blank. Thinking.

"And Pansy, Blaise, and Theo are not bad people either. They've joined Dumbledore's Army, you know? I helped Neville and the others set it back up at the start of the year. They weren't bad people before that either. Sometimes Theo reminds me of a more Slytherin version of you, actually," Amora gave him a small smile.

Harry released a small breath. "I... Respectfully, Amora, why are you telling me all of this?"

"Because I hate the idea of my old friends despising me for something that... that has never been so important to me," Amora admitted, "I have never felt as loved and cared for as when I am with those guys. And that's no offence to you. Harry, you have Ron and Hermione and the rest of the Weasleys... and I have my Slytherins, you know? I'm not saying we should be friends again, but I would like to attempt to clear my name, at least. Who knows what could happen during this war? I just wanted you to know that I never chose him over you – if I could have, I would have kept the both of you around."

"I... I know you would have," Harry muttered, "And I know you wouldn't have done it with malicious intent... I just – I..." Harry released a bitter laugh and shook his head, his cheeks heating up. "God, I was, like, in love with you, Amora."

Amora gulped, wetting her dried lips and turning away from the sea to face him.

"I'm not in that place anymore. I have bigger things to worry about," Harry confessed, "But at the time... I remember being so hurt and humiliated. There was the tiniest part of me that thought maybe you would like me back, or grow to, at least. I was so angry all of fifth year, and I... I should never have said some of the things I said to you. I couldn't stand that you were with Malfoy of all people. It felt... personal. But I've realised for a long time now that it really does have nothing to do with me. It never did."

"I'm sorry," Amora whispered, "I wish I could have told you myself, without Leon butting his head in, then maybe you would have been more... understanding? I just couldn't bear to lose any of you, but that ended up happening anyway."

There was a long silence.

"Malfoy treats you well, doesn't he?" Harry murmured, watching her face closely from the side.

Amora felt the corners of her lips tug up unconsciously. "He really does."

"You seemed so upset for most of the sixth year, I wasn't — I knew he had the mark and I thought you were in trouble," Harry said. "I never meant to, like, come across as obsessed. Hermione said I did. I was just trying to prevent you and everybody else from getting hurt."

"I know," Amora breathed, "Sixth year was hard for him. He didn't want any of this... Merlin, Harry, he's abandoned his family for me. All he does is worry about his mother since we got here, and I feel so grateful that he loves me so much, but... I really hope I was worth it. I'm terrified of not being worth it."

"You're worth it," Harry assured her. "Malfoy definitely thinks so if he's betraying You-Know-Who and willingly giving up the Malfoy family's name."

Amora pursed her lips. "Yeah. Yeah, I hope so."

"I can tell by the way he looks at you, too," Harry admitted. "I never thought I'd see Malfoy without a glare or a smug smirk... But when you're around, he looks like some sort of love sick puppy. If we were still at school, I definitely would have made fun of him for it."

Amora laughed, shaking her head. "Well, maybe you two can start getting along better now. He's on your side, Harry."

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "Things are just too complicated there."

They fell into a comfortable silence yet again, just the sound of seagulls squawking on a nearby hill filling their ears, alongside the soft crashing of the small waves. Then, they heard the door of Shell Cottage smack open and Draco was rushing towards her. His hair was wet, his plaid pyjama bottoms on, his shirt soaked from the shower water. Draco didn't seem to feel the cold as he reached Amora, placing his hands on her arms.

"My - My mother," Draco hurried, yanking his necklace out and clutching it. "She replied. Amora, she replied and we spoke through the Floo call. She's – she's alright."

Amora grabbed his hands which were moving about far too much. "Draco, that's amazing," she breathed, yanking him into a hug despite how cold he felt. "What did she say?"

Draco's eyes cast over to Harry, his body stiffening. He looked back at Amora instead. "She said they've made me an Undesirable – you too, again. Everybody in this house, really. She's not being punished for my actions because of the little performance she put on before we left. Bellatrix helped her out. I'm sure my parents are being... mocked for it. But it's better than death or - or torture."

"I'm glad she's okay," Amora breathed, "That's such a relief."

"She will try to talk to me every now and then, but the Manor is crawling with Death Eaters now. I think everything's going to be ten times harder now that Potter's been sighted," Draco said.

"Great," Harry muttered.

"But that also gives our side a morale boost," Amora said, "People were discouraged when Harry hadn't been seen in ages. People know he's doing something now. Harry's not given up – neither should anybody else."

"What a Hufflepuff thing to say," Draco drawled.

Amora shoved him. "Well, that was a Slytherin thing to say, you pessimist."

Harry watched the two of them – how Draco only smiled when she had pushed him, how Amora took no offence to his little insult. The way that they looked at each other... How he had never seen Draco look so human as when he had come out here to share how happy and relieved he was about his mother with Amora...

Some part of him that still resented the idea of Amora being with Malfoy seemed to grow even smaller. They really did belong together.

...

i missed harry ngl. i made him a bit of an arse in this fic, but he's my favourite hp character and i would die for him. i hope this chapter was okay! this is my last post before new years, so i hope everybody has a happy one! hopefully 2022 will be better than 2021.

thanks so much for reading -- and whoever anonymously commented that really nice post on my tumblr page -- I LOVE YOU. whoever u may be, this chapter is dedicated to you!! <33

word count: 6.1k

dyiansobrien.