"Come on, it's your move."

I stared dully at the chess board in front of me. Memories of playing chess with Cedric swam through my mind.

"Draco, I'm sorry, but I'm not in the mood." I sighed, slumping heavily in my seat.

He looked at me, piercing grey eyes staring fixedly into mine. "Forget Pansy, you know not to listen to her, right?"

I lifted my hands to my face, rubbing my fingertips exasperatedly against my forehead. "I'm so tired, Draco. I'm so tired of this pain, and this awful feeling of complete breathtaking horror that keeps rising in my chest whenever I remember that my brother is... gone. I literally can't cope with dealing with anything else, let alone Pansy."

The chest board got tossed aside, pieces flying everywhere, making me jump.

I looked up, apprehensively, as I lowered my hands down from my face. Draco was glaring down at me, his eyes bulging in ferocious anger. "Draco?"

"Why are you not fucking mad at me?" He snarled, his nostrils flaring. "Why are you not pounding your fists against my chest and telling me what a fucking low life I am?!"

"You want me to?" I blinked, confused.

"Yes!" He spat, and his face, which had been full of such vehement anger, suddenly fell. 'My father - my wonderful, precious father - he was there that night."

My heart thudded horribly in my chest as I looked up at him. I did not like him being like this. "You're not your father."

"How the fuck do you know?" He sneered.

"Because I wouldn't love a monster."

He blinked, the sneer instantly dropping from his lips. "You- you..?"

"I love you, Draco. With all my heart - well, with what's left of it, anyway."

And then suddenly, he was right next to me, arms encircling me and pulling me up against his chest, lips upon my lips.

"I love you, too," he said breathlessly between kisses. "I love you so much, Aurora."

We stayed wrapped up in each other's arms for the rest of the journey; holding each other, loving one another. We didn't talk about Cedric. We didn't talk about Death Eaters.

We were just Draco and Aurora. Two young lovers who, despite everything, loved with all that we had.

...

Draco felt a wave of nausea pass over him as the train pulled into the station.

"Are you ready?" He asked, murmuring into Aurora's hair, as his arms tightened around her waist, his reluctance to leave growing evermore.

"A part of me just wants to stay on this train with you and never get off," she whispered wearily, and Draco knew exactly how she felt.

He clasped her hand in his as they went to retrieve their trunks, not letting go of her, even when they stepped off the train down onto the platform.

He pulled her instantly into a bone crushing hug as the steam billowed around them, not caring who saw anymore.

Draco didn't want to leave her. He wanted to stay by her side and hold her hand while she buried her brother and grieved.

"Put her down, Draco," a cold, familiar drawling voice rang out above the noise of the bustling platform.

He froze. His eyes fearfully met Aurora's. He didn't want her to have to face him. He barely could stand the thought of facing him himself, but Aurora shouldn't have to go through it. Not yet.

Slowly, he lowered his arms from around her body, apologising with his eyes, regretting not having kissed her one last time.

"Leave," he muttered firmly, willing to sacrifice their goodbye to get her away from his father.

But she just stood frozen, her eyes darting nervously up at the tall silver haired Malfoy.

Feeling sick, Draco turned to face his father, shielding Aurora with his body as he made sure she remained firmly behind his back.

"Father." He tried to make his voice as causal and unnerved as possible. But even he could hear the slight quiver. He swallowed, silently cursed himself.

"So this must be young Diggory?" Lucius enquired, raising his eyebrows ever so slightly as his cold pale eyes roamed the girl Draco desperately tried to shield. "I'm so sorry to hear about your... loss. Such a dreadful tragedy."

Draco felt a wave of hot anger deep in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't believe his father had the gall to so much as look at her, let alone talk to her about Cedric.

"She was just going," Draco snarled. And felt relief flood through him as, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a dishevelled and gaunt looking man, looking around lost, as though he couldn't quite remember what he was doing there. Amos.

Draco couldn't believe a person's appearance could change so dramatically in the space of a few days without magic. But here, in front of his very eyes, was living proof that it could.

"Your father, Aurora, go to him. Now." Draco demanded, giving her fingers the briefest squeeze. He was desperate to get her away before his father could say anything else.

This time, she left, her eyes now fixed upon her father as she went to him, pulling her trunk behind her.

Draco watched her, his heart twisting slightly at the sad, grief stricken father, daughter reunion.

"So touching, Draco," his father drawled, making Draco wince. "But if you wanted a pet, you need only ask."

Draco said nothing. He knew it did no good to answer his father back. It was never worth the punishment.

"Where's Mother?"

"Your mother is at home organising your return feast. I suggest you do not upset her by talking about the half breed. Your return has been much anticipated and I wouldn't want you to ruin that, or so help me."

Lucius swivelled on the spot and started to stride away, barking at his son to follow.

Draco did as he was told, dragging his trunk along with him. Slowing down ever so slightly as he passed Aurora. Their eyes met and they exchanged, small sad smiles.

He hoped she'd be all right. But even as he thought that, he knew it would be a long time before she'd ever be anywhere near okay again.

...

I watched Draco disappear into the crowds behind his father and tried to suppress the horrendous sob that threatened to escape me.

I needed him so much. My father couldn't even look at me. His face full of sadness and grief, making me feel worse than I ever thought possible.

"Come on," Dad said heavily, and I could tell just saying those two words was a great effort to him.

I followed him as he stooped out of the station, his posture no longer proud and tall, but bent over and broken.

My thoughts drifted to the man who looked like an older version of Draco. The Death Eater. My stomach gave a horrible, uneasy twist as I recalled the way he had looked at me. Disgust.

I had to believe that Draco wasn't like him, that he was not going to follow in his father's Death Eater ways.

Because if he did, then I couldn't see how we could have any kind of future together. Yet it was the thought of a future with Draco which was the only thing keeping me sane right now.

I was teetering in the edge. And I was terrified.