CH-22

Vince and Greg look at each other, grinning stupidly.

"Looks like they got a few," Theo says. "I've been stuck on patrol duty for a while. But I'm not complaining."

"Where are you patrolling? Not Hogwarts—I didn't see you there."

"No, not Hogwarts. And I'm glad of it. I don't think I'd want to go to Hogwarts to patrol."

I pop the cork off a new bottle of Firewhiskey and nod in the direction of the bartender, thanking him. "I hate walking around the halls and seeing no one. Sure, there used to be Mudbloods crawling all over the school, but it was alive. Dumbledore was a good headmaster."

Theo nods. "Yeah, I've gotta admit it, he was good."

"We killed eight people," Greg says.

"Took them that long to figure it out," I say, shaking my head.

"Let's pick up some girls and go," Theo says. "We can leave these two buffoons to themselves."

I shake my head.

"Oh, come on. There's a blonde girl over there giving you the eyes," he says, jerking his head to the left.

I don't even look. "I'll take this last drink home. I'm outta here."

Before he can stop me, I head for the exit. Someone grabs my arm when I've almost reached freedom, and I glance back to see Astoria Greengrass. I shake her hand off my arm.

"Draco, hello," she says in her high-pitched voice, smiling sweetly.

"Astoria," I say, nodding to acknowledge her.

"I haven't seen you in such a long time," she says. "Where have you been? Why haven't you owled?"

"I have to go. I'm running late," I lie.

She reaches out for my arm again, but I hurry out of her reach and leave the club, Disapparating as soon as I'm outside. I never should have gone to the club tonight—it hasn't helped me the past few times, so I don't know why I half-expected it to help this time.

I collapse onto the couch in my safe haven and stare at the glowing embers in the fireplace. I lift the bottle to my lips to take another long draught. The liquid burns its way down my throat, and I glare at the lumps of coal. With a thought, a fire blazes to life. I wonder what it'd feel like to step inside and burn. I've watched someone burn alive before… looked pretty fucking painful.

I could use some pain.

Sighing, I chuck the bottle and the rest of its contents into the fireplace.

I pull out my serpent charm and seriously contemplate telling Granger that she should come here now. I want to see her round, brown eyes, touch that tiny scar on her cheek, hear her lyrical voice, taste her plump, kissable lips…

I groan and rub my forehead.

Maybe I should have done what Theo had suggested—grabbed some willing witch and brought her back to the Manor for some stress relief.

But I already know that it wouldn't have done any good. Ever since I saw Granger in the Forbidden Forest, all the girls I've fucked have had her face, screamed my name in her voice. If I'd brought back another girl tonight, it would have been the same thing all over again. And I can't keep this up.

I pick up my wand and point it at the empty basin that's still sitting on the coffee table.

"Aguamenti."

The basin refills, and I lean forward, looking at my reflection in the clear water. Concentrating on her, I place the tip of my index finger on the water, watching the tiny ripples move toward the edges of the basin.

She's lying in bed, asleep. Ginny Weasley's lying one bed over, also breathing deeply. Since she's asleep, it means Blaise is probably all right. As he crosses my mind, I absentmindedly run a hand along the scar that he gave me.

It had been a bitter fight. I'd felt that he betrayed me. He'd said that I turned on him. It would be all too easy for me to finish him off now, with all the tricks that I've picked up from the Dark Lord. But that fight had been three years ago, and we were evenly matched.

I still remember the way that blood had sprayed from the wound on his back, can still hear his screams of pain. I remember feeling no remorse and wishing that I could end him right there. But when he turned around to face me, I saw pain and desperation in his eyes, and the words stayed on the tip of my tongue. I couldn't do it.

I remember the ripping sensation as his spell cleaved its way down my chest, remember toppling back onto the ground, firing a pathetic Disarming Charm as I went down.

Theo had appeared and looked between the two of us worriedly. He knew that I was a Death Eater, but still he hesitated, torn between which of us he wanted to save. I remember screaming at him, telling him to kill Blaise, to kill the boy who had betrayed my trust. I remember the terrified look on his face as he shook his head at me and Disapparated with Blaise.

I was dizzy with blood loss at that point, and I didn't have the strength left even to lift my wand. Aunt Bella found me a moment later and immediately took me to the Manor, where they worked feverishly to heal me.

It's been a long time since I last thought back to that fight. I've tried to repress the memory, to avoid ever thinking about it. This war lost me my best friend.

I look back down at the water and watch as Granger shifts in her sleep, tugging the covers tighter around her.

Is she cold?

I find myself wishing that she would let me keep her warm. But I already know she never will. In her eyes, I've always hated her. And she's always hated me.

I lost my chance with her the day that my parents convinced me that Muggleborns had dirty blood and were therefore beneath us Purebloods.

I take one last look at her. I have to force myself not to keep watching her like this. I'm already too attached to her—I can't afford to sink any deeper.

She looks so peaceful in sleep, her lips curled into a small smile.

"Sweet dreams, Granger."

On my command, the water Vanishes.

I've never felt more alone.

A strong gust of wind blows by me, but I don't feel the stinging chill—a Warming Charm on my cloak took care of that for me.

I've been standing on a corner, leaning on a streetlamp. I'm not sure exactly when and where Finnegan will show up, but after spending a day wandering the streets under a Disillusionment Charm, I know that this corner is the most used in the small village.

Then I see Greg walking down the street and frown. He shouldn't be here… and he would definitely never come without Vince.

As he passes by without seeing me—I'm still under the Disillusionment Charm—it hits me. This isn't Greg. He walks with his back too straight. I know Greg's walk, and he almost always hunches his back. And Greg would never walk around in the open without his mask. He may be thick, but he would never disobey orders from the Dark Lord.

I'm willing to bet this imposter is Finnegan.

I scan the surroundings.

Two girls stand across the street, talking. An old couple slowly walks down the sidewalk toward me. Too many witnesses.

I follow "Greg" for several blocks before finally reaching a street that's deserted.

As soon as I'm sure that we won't be seen, I Disarm him from behind.

He spins around, alarmed, and when he sees no one, he runs into a nearby alley and dives behind a dumpster with agility that I'm sure Greg could never exhibit. Smirking, I move toward him, not bothering to be quiet now. He hears my footsteps and looks around wildly.

"Who's there?" he says.

I have to be sure that it's Finnegan before I kill him—I refuse to kill any more people than I absolutely have to.

"Goyle, I never thought I'd be lucky enough to catch you on your own," I say in a low voice. "You killed my family, you did. And now, I'll finally be able to get you back for it."

He repeats his query, looking in my direction. "Who's there?"

"Does it matter? Did you care who you were killing when you killed my family?"

"Who are you?"

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