The constellation Eridanus represents the erratic path Phaeton, the son of sun god Helios, took with his father's chariot, nearly freezing and burning the Earth's surface. Zeus struck him with a bolt of lightning, and he fell into the river Eridanus. It was said the world was plunged into darkness for days when Helios did not drive his chariot after his son's death.

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Draco began trying to fix the cabinet in the early evening. A bold move, for the threat of professors on their evening rounds was very real.

The cabinet stared down at him. He had grown quite tired of looking at it. It repulsed him, reminding him of the inevitable.

He brought out a rat from the cage beside him - some first year's pet. It would not be missed.

Placing it carefully onto the shelf, he shut the doors firmly, before flinging them open again. The rat was gone.

He closed the doors once more and pointed his wand at the cold wood, chanting the spell he had probably repeated more than a hundred times. In his heart, he prayed that somehow it would not work.

To his dismay, a muffled squeaking and scuffling came from inside. With a sick feeling in his stomach, he opened the doors, and the rat scampered out into the darkness.

The cabinet was fixed.

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Malfoy Manor was shrouded in darkness. There were no sounds of the night as he walked up the path to the door. If there were any creatures at all, they were dead silent. As the manor loomed, his heart clouded with dread.

"Draco," his father greeted him at the door coldly - always just his name, nothing else.

The house was empty, and their footsteps squeaked loudly against the polished tiles. "They'll be back in the evening," Lucius answered his unspoken question.

His mother sat on the couch, her eyes following and studying eagerly. "Well?" she whispered anxiously. "How is it, darling?"

"It's almost done," Draco confirmed grimly, casting his eyes to the ground.

A smile played on his father's lips. Redemption was finally theirs. "Perfect. You've done well, Draco. If everything goes as planned, you'd have singlehandedly saved the Malfoy name. Isn't that something?" He flinched as Lucius placed a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"We have to call him now." Lucius turned to Narcissa, who stood up readily. "No!" Draco said suddenly. They both looked at him in surprise.

"We don't have to do this."

"Draco, whatever do you mean?" Narcissa frowned, and he felt his courage wilting away.

"We- we don't have to call him," he mumbled. "We- we could flee the country. We could just disappear."

Lucius lunged forward and snatched Draco's arm. "Have you lost your wits, son? Have you forgotten what's at stake?"

"Calm down, Lucius!" Narcissa hissed into his ear. Then, turning to Draco, she took his hand in hers. "You know better than that, darling. He'll find us, wherever we are," she explained softly. "I know you care about your friends, but Crabbe and Goyle will understand. Their parents are with us. And when this is over, everyone else will be gone, and we will only have each other."

He bit down a snarl when he saw his mother's face. She was equally as terrified as he was. She was scared for herself and his father. But for once in his life, Draco was scared for someone else.

"Then a few more days," he begged. "Please."

"What's this?" Menace undercut Lucius's seemingly calm voice. "Someone you have to warn? Potter, perhaps?"

"No!" Draco spat at the very thought. He hated Harry. Potter was the reason he was in this whole mess in the first place. "No. There's just one last thing I have to fix. And then you can call him. I promise."

"We'll give you three more days, Draco. The Dark Lord doesn't like to be kept waiting, you know that," Narcissa warned.

He jerked his arm away from his mother. Without another word, he stormed back outside and Disapparated.

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"Orion." Angel leaned back and pointed. "That's the first constellation dad taught me."

They sat on the same mat again, the sky laid out before them like a giant sparkling blanket. It seemed to move right before their eyes, turning together with the earth as it spun on its axis.

He squinted, but it was all just a mess of stars. "I don't see anything."

"Look," she said again, jabbing the air. "There's Altinak, Alnilam, and Mintaka. The three stars. You can't possibly miss them."

"English, please."

Her lips parted with laughter, making him look at her. He couldn't help but think once more that she was the most beautiful girl he had ever known. Would this be the last time he would hear her laugh?

"How did they die?" he asked out of the blue, immediately regretting it when her smile disappeared.

She grew quiet for a few moments. He was about to apologise when her reluctant answer made the words freeze in his throat.

"Death Eaters." Her voice was barely a whisper, as if she did not dare to say the words out loud. "My Mum was a Muggle-born. She works - worked - in the Ministry. My dad told her to stop going to work, so they stayed home for a bit. That morning, they had gone out for groceries. They never made it home."

He felt like he was going to be sick. All this time, he was sat there, listening to her cry every night more than a week. And then laughing with her. And then finally falling in love her. All while the people he knew had murdered her parents. His people.

There was nothing stopping the Death Eaters from coming into Hogwarts now, and he had to keep her safe. She will not be the last of the Dawsons. He had to tell her, even if it means losing her forever. He couldn't bear it anymore.

"Angel, I have to tell you something." His voice was shaky, and he knew she noticed. But she smiled anyway.

"Anything."

He stretched out his left arm and slowly pulled up his sleeve.

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She stared at it for a long time. The world seemed to pause. There were no thoughts in her mind, only the sound of her own heart, pounding.

"Angel, trust me. I thought I wanted it. I truly thought I did. But not now, not anymore. Not after I met you." Draco's voice was laced with desperation, but the muffled thudding in her ears drowned it out.

That loathsome, horrid mark. It symbolised everything she stood against - evil, lies, bigotry, totalitarianism, death.

"I have to kill Dumbledore," Draco carried on, a torrent of words. "He asked me to kill Dumbledore. The necklace that Katie Bell carried. The poison Slughorn gave Ron. That was me. It was all me. I have to kill him. If not, he will kill me. He'll kill my family too."

"You mean... all this while..." She could not speak, still looking at the black ink. The shock was strangling. So Harry had been right after all. That was why they had been fighting. She had been defending a murderer.

She did not want to be here. She wanted to leave. She wanted to turn and walk away from him now, but her body felt planted to the floor.

"Please, say something," Draco implored.

"You're... you're not a murderer, Malfoy," she finally managed weakly.

"I- I've fixed the cabinet."

"What?"

"The Vanishing Cabinet, in the Room of Requirement. That's what I've been doing. It was broken, and I've fixed it. So that..." He trailed off, unable to continue.

She met his eyes now. "So that what?"

"So that they can come to Hogwarts."

Her mouth parted in shock as she stepped away from him, struggling to take it all in. She felt lightheaded all of a sudden. "Malfoy... what- what have you done? We have to tell someone. We- we have to tell Harry, or Dumbledore, or McGonagall!"

"No, please!" he begged over her. "We can't. It has to happen, or he's going to kill my family. He's going to kill me. I don't have a choice."

"We always have a choice!" Draco always had a mean streak, but not like this. Not like a Death Eater.

"You don't understand! If you were me, what would you do, then? Tell me!" Angry tears started to spill, but he was too upset to bother hiding them.

He was right. She did not understand. She would never comprehend how someone could follow a demon so wickedly monstrous on their own volition. Her loyalty was to Hufflepuff, Harry, Dumbledore, and Hogwarts. She would never turn her back on them, let alone stand back and watch their murder.

But if Draco was telling the truth, she knew betraying him was not an option either. She did not want anyone to die, Death Eater or not.

"You think I'm just some bully with a good heart," he said. "I'm not. I told you to stay away, didn't I?"

No. She wouldn't. She loved him.

"Malfoy, I-"

"Go! Just leave!" He shouted, his face twisted from crying.

She willed herself to be calm and took in the person in front of her now. Those many nights they had spent talking - her mind may have been on whatever topic they were on, but her eyes have always seen his. Always.

Draco had kindness deep down, that much she knew. His sharp, frigid glares belied a certain softness and concern, if one would only look.

Slowly, she closed the distance between them. Tracing the tattoo with her fingers, she focused on the feeling of his skin and nothing else. He has had the mark all this time, hadn't he? That did not change the Draco Malfoy she had come to know.

"Ophiuchus," she murmured softly, and he drew in a sharp breath. Snake bearer.

She cupped his face in her hands, smoothing his wet cheek with a thumb. "I'm not going to deny you've done terrible things, Malfoy. But I refuse to believe you don't have the tiniest smidge of goodness in you."

He started to break down fully. "What do I do, Angel? Tell me what to do," he sobbed. "I- I killed your parents. And now- now I have- have to-"

"Listen, Malfoy," she said firmly. "You're not like them, alright? You didn't kill my parents. They did. And you didn't kill Dumbledore or Katie either. And do you want to know why? Because there's goodness in you. It's there, and you know it too. You just have to find it. And when that happens, hold on to it. Do you hear me? Never let it go, right till the very end."

He pulled an envelope from his jacket and thrust it into her hands. "A Muggle plane ticket," he said as she looked at it in confusion. "From London to Sweden. I know you've always wanted to go. And I... I heard it's beautiful there. Life is slow, people are friendly. All the stars and lights in the sky you could ever want to see."

"No, I'm not leaving you." She was decided. Whatever it is he was going through, she would be there.

"Angel, don't be daft!" he snapped. "You can't save everybody. You can't save me. Please. You have to go."   

She felt tears pricking her eyes as she shook her head violently. "Not without you, Malfoy."

As he said his next words, her heart crashed to her feet.

"I can't. I have to go through with this. And the mark... he'll always know where I am. But as long as I know you're safe... that's all that matters to me."

"Malfoy, please. There has to be another way, we could- we could..." Words failed her when she realised that nothing she said would make him change his mind. She pulled him into a hug, breathing in the pine scent of his jacket.

"I can't have you here when it happens," he said into her shoulder.

"Tell me." She tried to keep a level voice and steady heartbeat for him, but in truth, she was terrified.

"They- they're going to take over the school... The Dark Lord, he's already destroyed the Ministry of Magic. Th-then he's going to come for Potter."

She bit her lip to stop it from quivering. "The students... my friends... What's going to happen to them?" 

Draco was silent.

"When?" she asked.

"Three days."

She tilted her head to the sky, willing herself not to cry. Be brave, Angel. Be brave.

"Well," she said finally. "I'm not going without you. And you can't make me. You've pushed me away for five years, Malfoy. I'm not going to let you do it again. You're either coming with me, or I'm staying to fight. I'm not running away from anyone."

"Please know that I don't want this," he said in despair. "I just... don't know what else to do. I don't want to do this."

She looked into his watery eyes, and her heart ached for this broken boy in front of her. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

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He did not need to think. He wanted her, all of her. He wanted to hold her, to feel her body against his; to push her hair back and kiss her lips over and over; to smile and laugh with her; and then he wanted his turn to comfort her when she cried. He wanted to bring her to Sweden to see the aurora borealis. He wanted all of her hopes and dreams, for her to tell him about every single bleeding constellation she knew.

With her, he was Ophiuchus. He wanted to fade in.

And he was afraid to want her this way, because it would mean tainting her river of light with his darkness, like a thick, black oil choking the life out of its waters.

Because it would mean losing her.

"I don't know," he lied.