REBEL

11. DIAMOND BLACK - DEEP BLACK

11. DIAMOND BLACK - DEEP BLACK

My guilty conscience is not long in coming. However, this has nothing to do with the fact that Draco Malfoy has (once again) given me an orgasm without being aware of it or even being physically present. No, what I feel now is more like genuine remorse. While in the hours after my weak moment in the training room I might have been able to lose myself in the memories of our kisses without the slightest compunction, now, a few days later, it's a completely different story.

Firstly, there's the matter of Lucius.

For the last few weeks, I've successfully brushed the subject aside, but the more I talk to Malfoy, the closer we get, the more he flirts with me and the more intensely I think about him, the more present the following thought becomes: he doesn't know that I was the one who killed his father. And it's precisely this thought that haunts my mind, chokes my throat and gnaws at my nerves.

Although I firmly believe that Lucius, that despicable bastard, more than deserved his death, withholding the information feels like a betrayal. Malfoy should know, but I have no idea how to bring it up. Besides, I feel like the right moment has already passed. A real dilemma.

To make matters worse, after Malfoy's little bondage show in the training room, I could swear that he's at least as attracted to me as I am to him. The way he practically offered himself, his lingering looks, what he said to me, the respectful way he dealt with my fear, his rock-hard erection — all things I'm sure weren't an act. And that, in turn, brings me to my second problem.

If not only the physical but also the intellectual and emotional interest I feel towards him is mutual, then we're no longer an effective team; we can't be.

The rule that members of the Resistance who have any kind of romantic relationship with each other are not allowed to fight side by side is one that I personally established. It's also why Dean and I only started marching out together after we stopped shagging. What happened during the Greyback mission was the best proof of why you shouldn't break that particular rule. I got distracted because I was worried. And I was worried because I care about Malfoy (again), whether I want to acknowledge it or not. If he feels similarly or even exactly the same, then there's a risk on both sides that a mistake like that will happen again.

As a team, we are a threat to the Resistance.

So I do what I always do when I want to solve a problem (resolve a situation, really) without leaving my comfort zone: I change the plan.

When I ask Blaise to allocate new teams and partner Malfoy with Dennis Creevey for the next mission, I have no idea that this won't make anything better at all.

***

"Bugger," I hiss breathlessly as I look around the demolished safe house.

Debris everywhere — splinters of wood from broken furniture, the insides of burst sofa cushions, shattered glass, smoking curtains. And blood in between. So much blood. We're lucky that it's mostly that of our opponents. They outnumbered us and would probably have finished us off in no time if we hadn't surprised most of them in their sleep. Only two night guards. So negligent.

Well, stupidity tends to be punished.

"I didn't think so many of them would be here," I hear Blaise mutter somewhere diagonally behind me.

"They're vigilant," George interjects. "Better prepared than usual."

"But still not good enough," sniffs Dennis, the eternal optimist.

The dust settles and I catch a glimpse of Malfoy's face. Fierce anger is glinting in his eyes and I'd wager I know why.

Pansy Parkinson lies on the dirty floor, unconscious and covered in blood. She's still breathing, which can't be said of most of her companions, but without the help of a healer she won't be for much longer.