Bound By Blood.

ch.79~Protected.

There were no recovered or unsent correspondents

found from Order Member Alexandra Brooks, to Death Eater Mattheo Riddle

from February 2004, to April 2004.

The Order Safe house, 2003.

Alexandra.

"I need you to help me with my shielding." I commanded more than asked, practically holding my breath in the doorway of the makeshift library of the safe house. 

Her golden eyes snapped up to me, shock filling them. 

"You need my help?" disbelief lacing her tone. 

"Yes, Hermione. I need your help." I huffed as I sat in the chair across from her. 

As I settled into the worn, wooden chair, the tension in my shoulders began to ease just a fraction. 

The faint smell of parchment and ancient tomes filled the air, offering a temporary reprieve from the chaos outside. 

But this sanctuary had its limits; I needed more than just a few moments of peace—I needed protection.

Protection from him. 

Because it was quite evident, I couldn't stay away from him. There was no possible way I could, not now. 

Forcing my self to walk away from him this morning, to untangle myself from him, actually felt painful. 

And I knew if I wanted to keep him, I had to learn how to keep my head. 

Keep them safe. 

Hermione's gaze bore into mine, her disbelief palpable. 

It made sense; after everything that had transpired between us, asking for her help felt wrong. 

But, she was my best friend once. 

"Listen, the Death Eaters have started hand-to-hand combat," I lied, feeling the weight of the words hang heavy in the air. "It's... it's likely they're trying to penetrate our minds or something. Since we don't have a full record on who actually could, I don't think we can't take any chances."

A flicker of concern crossed Hermione's face, but she quickly masked it. 

She nodded, taking out her wand with a determined air. 

"Alright, let's get started. Shielding spells are vital, especially now."

As she demonstrated the incantations, I felt the heat of my own trepidation growing. 

Hours slipped by as Hermione repeated instructions and I practiced conjuring the barriers she described, her words echoing in my mind. 

"Focus on your emotions; channel them into your shield. It's as much about willpower as it is about magic," she urged, her brow furrowed with concentration. I sensed the intensity in her gaze, a mix of concern for both our safety and for me.

"But what about a situation where you find yourself forgetting about your shields?" I tried to causally say. 

There was no way to directly ask what I wanted to know.

I hesitated, those moments when I had let my guard down unwillingly, choosing vulnerability over caution. 

"If its not in the front of your mind to maintain them, if your occupied." I added, forcing casualness into my tone, though a tremor of anxiety rippled through me.