43 | ﴾ Navigate The Darkness ﴿

                                    

                                          
The changeroom was dark when I arrived back to it. I lit candles as I prepared for what would possibly be the most terrifying moment of my life, trembling slightly in nervous anticipation. I had come to view the small space as a tomb to hold my broken heart. It had allowed me to hide away in the darkness at any point in the day to find peace and cry in private. 
                          
As I dressed into a black Victorian style gown I was sure would fit the bill for my attempt at convincing the Death Eater's to take me as one of their own, Draco's words from a month prior echoed hatefully in my mind.
                          
 You'll never be good enough to be a Malfoy anyways. You've always been weak, sniveling at the smallest of things. Pathetic. 
                          
You and I shouldn't be together. I'm a Death Eater, and you aren't. It will always be uneven.

                          
Not for long, I thought with sincere dread. What would Draco think when he found out that I had taken the dark mark? In France he had made me promise never to allow it unless I was absolutely threatened. But then again, was the Order not absolutely threatened by that point? And it was no longer his concern whether or not I joined their ranks, considering he had walked away from me and shattered my heart into a million dysfunctional pieces. 
                          
I looked at myself in the mirror, dressed like a widow from the 1800's in the vividly black dress. My bright hair shone against the fabric and I could have possibly passed for deceased from how pale I had become. 
                          
A knock on my door caused me to jump slightly. I turned and unlocked it to find Harry in the hallway. He held out a piece of parchment with messy scribbles and diagrams all over it, "Here; in case you didn't know how to locate the Black residence. I've been there before. Everyone else is preparing to move to the meeting points as we speak." 
                          
I took it slowly and read the words that were written there, hinting at a passcode to get into the building. Harry ranted on, "I doubt Bellatrix will be there, but you can ask the house elf to fetch her. Just a warning; even if it seems abandoned there are loads of dangerous traps set. Be careful - it was one of the first safe houses to get raided, and now the Death Eaters watch it quite dramatically." 
                          
I gave him a faint smile, "Dis is good 'arry, thank you." 
                          
He pouted slightly, looking down between us, "You know, it's really been bothering me...what happened in the woods. That's not how I would've wanted things to go between us." 
                          
He was avoiding my eyes and I suddenly felt sick and nervous. It was like he would never take a hint. His persistent fondness of me seemed to be indestructible, and just when I thought it was gone it came back again in full force. 
                          
I frowned, feigning sympathy. If I could have truly sympathized with him I would have, but the event had destroyed my own happiness much more than it could have his. I'd lost the love of my life whereas he had actually gotten to experience physical affection with his crush. "It is okay, 'arry," I offered what little I could provide given how I felt.
                          
Harry's mouth twitched into a sad half smile. He looked up at me, reaching from around his back to press a velvety black sack into my hands, "I have this for you. It's from Dumbledore, it won't open for anyone else. He told me I would know when the right time was to give it to you. This feels like that moment." 
                          
I blanked, and he laughed gently at my quizzical expression, "You met him once, but you wouldn't remember that." I was shocked that I had met the headmaster of Hogwarts in person. He had been famously detached, only spotted on rare occasions out of his office for anything other than important meals in the great hall or high up in the stands at Quidditch games.
                          
Both of us watched in awe as I pulled open the drawstrings on the expensive bag and reached inside. My hand brushed against something cold and glassy as I pulled out a note written in gorgeous handwriting that read simply: