In Greek mythology, nymphs were minor female deities and considered personifications of natural features such as mountains, flowers, and rivers. They were usually depicted as beautiful maidens, and were often the mothers of great heroes.

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a n g e l

Even in his sleep, he was beautiful, like a diamond inset on a ring. 

I leaned forward onto the bed, resting my chin on the back of one hand. With the other, I reached out to touch him, letting my fingers trail down the length of his arm and over his knuckles; the soft pads of his palms and the smoothness of his fingernails. I felt the searing coldness of the silver signet ring, the indentations of the star map, and the lines of Polaris carved onto its face. I kept my eye on him the whole time, thinking he would wake. He did not.

I sighed, wondering how a man this despondent, yet capable of such unbridled love, could be slotted into the same category of monsters like Voldemort and Lucius.

My anger towards Susan was heavily intertwined with disappointment. Susan had always been the gentle, forbearing half to Hannah's explosive reactivity, and although she very much preferred to be surrounded by animals, she always endeavoured to think the best of everybody.

When they found out I had been sneaking out to meet Draco in the Astronomy Tower, for instance, Hannah had blown her top; Susan only asked why. That was what I loved so dearly about her. You could never do anything truly wrong in her eyes. There was always a reason, some hidden, justified motive that made you act the way you did, even if you did not intend to.

The moment those condemning words left her mouth, everything good I ever told her about Draco turned to smoke. It was as if he had not come back to us on his own volition that day in the courtyard, and risked his life while doing so.

Did our genetic makeup dictate who we were?

It would have been hypocritical of me to disagree, yet not apply the same ideology to myself. I would have liked to think I was raised in the image of my parents, that I was not remotely capable of the despicable deeds of Death Eaters. Yet, I had just murdered someone. Stolen his life force with a simple motion of my arms. And what scared me the most was that I would do it all over again.

"You're good," I spoke out loud to Draco's sleeping face. "You were mean. And a bully. And just all-around awful. Also, your cooking is... poisonous." I tried to think of more bad things to say about him. Did he have an ugly haircut? No, his hair was flaxen silk. Did he, perhaps, have the laugh of a donkey? No, he laughed like how ballerinas dance; smooth and weightless, barely grazing the floor.

Well, there was one bad thing, I suppose. His family. But it felt wrong to say it, even if it was all in jest.

"You kind of suck at murdering people," I said finally. "I mean, how hard could it have been to poison a frail, old man? But y'know what? You're good. Hannah and Susan say I'm a terrible judge of character, but I say, fuck what they say. You're good. You're good, you're good, you're good."

Draco's forehead pinched together slightly, and his lips moved. "What are you talking about...?" he mumbled.

I nearly jumped back in shock, and dove to pick up his hand. "Draco? Are- are you awake?" His eyes were still closed, but his face scrunched and he nodded slowly. "You talk... so much..." he groaned, as if I had just woken him up in the middle of a nap.

"Well, one of us has to in this relationship," I said, immediately kicking myself for trying to be witty.

His eyes finally blinked open. He turned to look at me, and for a moment, oxygen did not exist. I had memorised every single line in his silver irises, and yet, it was like I was seeing him for the first time.

I helped him sit up, noting the solidity of his back and recalling the brokenness of it only a few hours ago. "How're you feeling?" I asked anxiously.

"Fine. You?" His fingers tightened around mine. "I'm okay," I smiled in what I hoped was a reassuring manner. "We all are."

His eyes shifted from my face to my stomach. "The- the baby?"

I nodded.

"My father... He -"

"Won't be bothering us ever again." I waited for a reaction. After all, it was his father - a man he had respected and feared, maybe even loved. Well, as much as an emotionally-manipulated son could have, anyway. But Draco's expression was inscrutable.

"And my mother?" He sounded slightly more anxious now.

"As far as I know, she's safe."

"Where are we?"

"I'm not sure," I answered honestly. "Susan Apparated us here. Thank Merlin she brought this tent."

"Oh. Where are they now?"

My face darkened when I thought of where I had left them - in front of the fireplace, where Susan had made that ridiculous and cruel suggestion. A ridiculous and cruel suggestion that made sense.

"They're around."

Draco could immediately tell I was upset, and shifted in the bed, scooching further away. "Lie with me," he commanded. He did not have to. I missed being in his arms and feeling his embrace. I climbed in eagerly next to him.

There was warmth. But not the ordinary warmth of the blanket. It was the warmth of Draco. The heat of his blood that mingled with the faintest scent of pine and unique smell of his skin. I tried not to think of how I almost lost him. He's here with me, I reminded myself. Alive, with a heart that was now drumming against mine. The corners of my eyes hurt as I strained to hold back tears, and I closed them against his neck so they wouldn't fall.

He held me in a position that allowed my belly to rest comfortably between us. Aurora somehow knew she was with her Mummy and Daddy, and squirmed again.

"Tell me what's happening."

I thought about how to answer him. I really did not want to. It was too complicated, too confusing, too bothersome. "Can we not talk about it, please? Just for now," I said.

The breath of his sigh ruffled the hair at my crown. Draco hated not knowing things, especially things that concerned him. But it might have been something in my voice, the restrained but urgent pleading, that he reluctantly agreed.

Neither of us said anything for a while. The flickering fire cast dancing shadows on the tent walls, providing an ominous backdrop for the hushed, urgent voices of our friends.

Thoughts of the Manor permeated my mind once more. The immense fury that had come from within me not in spurts, but in geysers, spilling from my throat like boiling lava. I never knew I was capable of such anger, and it terrified me greatly. Would there be a moment when Draco, Susan, or in the future, maybe even Aurora, would make me so angry that I might accidentally hurt them?

Draco had not seen what happened. Would I tell him? What would he think of me if he knew it was I who had murdered his own father in pure, unadulterated rage? After all, it had been my gentleness and everlasting patience that got through to him all those years ago. Draco once told me one of the reasons he loved me was because I possessed "a kindness so sickening it made him want to throw up". I had gladly taken it as a compliment back then. Now, it seemed like an expectation, one too heavy for me to carry. 

I decided I would not tell him.

We stayed in bed like that for what seemed like hours. It was well past midnight when I heard Lorcan make some sort of final statement, and the fire blew out. Footsteps approached our side of the tent. I pretended to be asleep. It seemed like Draco did the same, because I heard them whispering:

"I suppose he woke up some time earlier-"

"- we wouldn't have been able to get such gigantic beds without my Extension Charm."

"I'll check on them-"

Someone tugged our covers higher and combed the hair out of my face with their fingers. "You great, big bimbo," Susan murmured under her breath. I kept my eyes shut.

"Come on, Suze. They'll be fine. Let's get some sleep, I'm shattered. Can you believe we haven't slept for more than twenty-four hours..." their voices trailed off. In the darkness, I heard them getting ready for bed - Lorcan had one to himself while Hannah and Susan shared the other. Things clattered softly, covers rustled, and bed frames creaked. Then, silence.

Draco remained extremely still, and I inclined my head to see if he had fallen back asleep. His eyes glinted in the darkness, and he smiled down at me. I smiled back.

We were in the midst of chaos, and I did not quite know or remember how we had gotten to this point. But in this lost forest, in this tent, in this bed with Draco, there was an uncanny but familiar calmness.

And then I realised, Codrus could tear down our world pillar by pillar, and I would be perfectly happy dying in Draco's arms.

In fact, I would not have it any other way.

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A/N: The next chapter is my longest yet, but it's such a heartwarming one that I hope you guys won't mind terribly :)