dear draco,

thirty

"I suppose it could be worse," admits Neville on our way to Muggle Studies. I'm grateful he's speaking to me again; this class is bad enough as it is and would be unbearable without a friend beside me. "You could be interested in... Amycus or someone. That's where we'd really draw the line."

I snort. "If I fancied Amycus, Ginny would murder me in my sleep."

Neville sighs. "Ginny isn't angry at you, Iz. She even said that you should be allowed to fancy whoever you want. I think she just really wishes that person wasn't Malfoy."

"Well, don't worry," I say, as we join the crowd streaming into Muggle Studies. "These are just my feelings. Draco probably hates my guts."

When we turn the corner into Alecto's classroom, she is already there; leaning backwards on a stool with her stubby legs propped up. I wrinkle my nose as Neville and I slide into our seats, but don't dare give her a dirty look or anything of the like. For now, it's better I just stay out of the Carrows' ways.

Once everyone is inside, Alecto clears her throat obnoxiously and begins to tell us about whatever fascinating topic today's lesson will cover. I don't hear her; Draco's usual seat is unoccupied. He didn't show up to class.

It's not out of the ordinary for Draco to skip class. He's out of it as much as he's in it – although he isn't missing much, especially not in subjects like Muggle Studies. This year, he and Snape have become like comrades, and Draco always seems to be away, running errands for him. Not that I notice.

The class crawls on. The only logical thought Alecto brought to this room was to hang a clock on the wall, and it glares at me from the far corner, minutes ticking by like snails. Feet still on her desk, Alecto drones on, reiterating the three awful words that we've heard countless times from her mouth: Muggles Are Scum. And other variations. I've tuned out – it's alarming how immune everyone has become to hearing such a thing, but her words pass through our heads as if she were talking about the weather. My gaze passes over the other students – most of them hate the Carrows, but even the ones that suck up to her doze off in this class. By the window, Goyle looks as if he might begin to snore any second.

Draco's seat is still empty.

"Young."

My head jerks up; I had become so absorbed in Draco's absence that I hadn't even noticed Alecto rising to her feet and moving through the tables, towards Neville and I.

She pauses moments from where we sit, malicious eyes on mine. "Heard about your dad, Princess."

I feel everything inside of me drop. As the weeks following Christmas break rolled slowly by, I grew more and more certain that the Carrows hadn't heard the news about my father. That I wouldn't have to face a conversation like this. I usually retaliate to whatever nonsense Alecto comes out with, but if she says something about my dad, I don't know. I don't know if I can take it.

I take a deep breath. "You're a little late."

"Heard he wasn't quite the man he made himself out to be," she sneers. "Heard he confunded Muggles into hiding."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"A man of pure blood, pushing Muggles into hiding and away from what they deserve?"

"Whenever he found out Death Eaters were planning to attack, he confunded Muggles to go into safety," I say, my voice shaking. Neville squeezes my hand under the desk. "Death Eaters. Your people. That's not a bad thing, that's human decency."

"Don't talk about us like that!" Alecto says at once, her eyes growing wild. She's crazy, I'm sure of it. "Not when he – your father – pretended to be one of us for so long!"

"That's not fair-" Neville starts, but I nudge him sharply. His face is so full of wounds, it's best he doesn't get involved.

"I think it's pretty fair," says Alecto. "Turns out daddy's not so great after all. Isn't that right, Princess?"

Heat's rising on my cheeks now. I can't stand her, I can't. What do I say? How do I make her stop? Where's Draco? It takes all my courage to look Alecto in the eye. "He pretended to be one of you so he could help more innocent Muggles. I think his plan was genius."

"Muggles are scum!" she shrieks. I can feel every pair of eyes in the classroom on me, watching, wondering. How far am I going to let her go? How far until I break? Alecto creeps closer. "Have I taught you nothing?" she asks, her voice suddenly soft, whispering, wheezy. Terrifying. "Muggles are scum, and clearly, so was your father."

I don't reply. I'm staring at my desk now, unable to look up without bursting into tears. I bite my lip until the skin breaks, trying to give myself some other pain to think about. It doesn't work.

"What's wrong?" breathes Alecto, so near to my face now that I can smell her – smoke and beer and death. The class is deadly silent. In my line of vision, she grins. "Run out of smart comebacks? Or have you realised that your father was nothing more than Muggle-loving scum? Huh?" She moves closer and jabs her wand into my chin. "Guess he got what he deserved. Isn't that right, Princess?"

And then the bell goes, and it is over. It is finally over.

I have never gathered my books so fast in my life. Alecto watches as I stumble into the throng of classmates, all of whom are determinedly avoiding my gaze. I can hear Neville behind me, calling my name, but soon I am running and his voice is getting fainter and I know nothing but the need to get away, away from these people who know nothing but uncertainty and war, away from this life of blindness. I move on, up, until I don't know where I am, but I am alone.

I don't want to be alone.

A door bangs open. He is there and he is waiting, unexpectant, as if actively giving me the choice what to do with his presence: to hate him or to love him, but I fling myself into his arms. I'm grabbing at his chest and my body is shaking with tears, and maybe seconds, minutes or days have passed, but I am in his arms again.

Through tears, I try to speak. "She – she-"

"I know," Draco murmurs into my hair. He holds me tighter. "I heard. I'm so sorry."

"I'm being stupid, I know I am," I say, my voice muffled against his chest. "But you should have heard her." I cry harder. "I'm trying to be strong, but-"

"I think you've been strong enough," Draco says, his voice warm and wonderfully familiar. "I'm so, so sorry."

His shirt is already soaked, but I lean closer yet, trying to take all of him in at once. He even smells familiar. "It's not your fault."

He doesn't reply. All I want is to hear him speak; I want to listen to his voice forever. I want to watch the way he listens and watches and moves. I want to hold him, dance with him, love him. Him, him, him.

And then; "God, I've missed you."

"Say it," I say, so abruptly that he pulls away ever so slightly, to look at me questioningly. "Say the name."

"Oh." He pauses, the ghost of a smile in his sad eyes. "I've missed you, Belly."

I hiccup, trying to hold him somehow closer with my face still buried in his chest. "I've missed you too."