House of The Rising Sun

Chapter Ten

Now

The storm passed after a few hours, electricity flickering in and out, enough to steal the attention away from the couple that were sitting together again after their somewhat brief disappearance.

Draco looked at Macaria's relaxed expression, lips barely containing his smirk. They had nearly forgotten to return their glamours, Draco needing quite a few more on his neck - much to his chagrin that she had covered them at all.

They walked in companionable silence, taking a slightly longer route back toward the shop. The rain still hung in the evening air like a damp smoke, though much of the heat was whittled away, and it was simply at a calm in the city. Macaria had wandlessly moved fallen trees or branches from houses where she could, though the inhabitants were often already outside to do the job themselves. Draco observed, fascinated with her seemingly effortless ability for wandless and nonverbal, especially in the act of moving such a massive object in some cases.

"Can I ask you something?" He said as she cleared half an awning from the sidewalk, already doubting his query.

"I suppose," she kept her gaze elsewhere, looking for more debris. He rolled his eyes at her trepidation, figuring it was progress from the usual shut-down.

"When we did that ritual...well, before it, actually," he hesitated, testing the weight of his words. "What was it that you experienced?"

"I told you then, didn't I?" She looked slightly bemused, despite the dark topic.

"Not specifically," he muttered, beginning to wonder if that was how a conversation with himself felt.

"I've thought about it since then. I think it was the most one can experience in death without actually dying. I'm not sure what curse or spell she used - it's probably outside of the wizarding norm entirely - but it took my most primal fears and made me experience them until there was just nothing," she supplied, exhaling slowly. "Why?"

"It was terrifying to watch," he snorted and felt that residual pang of guilt in his stomach.

"I'm not keen on proving my worth like that again anytime soon, so please refrain from joining any new organisations for awhile," she smirked at him and he bit back a grin.

"No promises. This whole anti-Death Eater thing is quite enticing. Hey-" He gasped, offended as she punched him in the arm. "No need for violence."

"Prat."

It was quiet for a moment then and Draco looked over her face, the indecision in her eyes and the tension in her mouth. It was subtle, but he was beginning to learn her again.

"There's something I should tell you," she started, sucking in a deep breath. She stopped her pace on the sidewalk, looking up at him with those green eyes he'd never gotten out of his mind. Always roiled with her conundrum of secrets in blatant honesty. Selective truths, he'd realized years ago.

His brow furrowed as her silence lingered, building up a resounding dread in his gut. He was so focused on her expression that her slight glance behind him pushed everything into slow motion.

Her hand gripped his left shoulder, pushing him away as he heard the collision of a large rock into a body. His vision snapped to the fallen body not more than a few meters away, unconscious with a wand in a loose grip.

"Ante mortem defectum!" Another voice to his right called out, that same blank stare in different eyes as the man approached, wand twisting in a familiar bolt. "Av-"