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By now, we found shelter under the extending roof by the backside of the castle; still outside, though dry, at least.

I was casually leaning my back against the wall, Draco looking at me with his arms crossed, shoulder propping him against the same wall.

"They're lying; the muggles," He suddenly remarked with a shrug, and I raised an eyebrow at his statement as I turned my head towards him.

His eyes, however, were casually wandering over my upper body, the wet, white shirt of my uniform still clinging onto my skin. "They romanticise rain because now I can see your bra. And I, too, romanticise that."

A cheeky smirk was plastered over his face, his eyes now lazily dragging up my body until they met mine.

"You're an idiot," I mumbled, shaking my head in playful disbelieve with a singular laugh before I pulled out my wand, and dried my clothes with the twirl of it.

Draco immediately pouted, watching the fabric quickly gain its coverage back. Almost outraged, he muttered a dragged out "Nooo," before cracking a smile.

"If you didn't feel the need to comment, you could've still enjoyed the view," I huffed with a laugh, and his bottom lip found itself between his teeth.

"Where's the fun in that if I can't tease you about it?" He joked, and I rolled my eyes in return before drying him off with the same charm. "Thanks," He quickly added.

I simply nodded, watching the rain still falling just a few feet away from us as we both enjoyed the sound of it; a casual silence hanging over us.

We've just been enjoying each other's company for the past hour or so, talking, and laughing about this and that; Our previous little argument all forgotten about.

Which made me dislike bringing something serious up even more.

"There's something that's been bothering me," I frowned, my voice quiet in hopes it wouldn't disturb the silence between us. It did, obviously. "I haven't really spoken to anyone about it, and I feel kind of awful for it," I admitted, and his brows shot up in both worry and anticipation.

"What might that be, love?" He asked, his head tilting as he gave me a dry smile, encouraging me to go on.

I tried to ignore how my body reacted to the nickname, though couldn't hide the faint smile forcing itself onto my lips. I gulped once and then tried my best.

"I just need advice, really," I clarified quickly. "Imagine your mum is a death eater, okay?" His brows furrowed at the unexpected scenario, though he gestured for me to continue, anyway. "But you're not, and you don't know your mum is. Now, your best friend knows your mum is a death eater but hasn't told you yet, because-"

"-Wren's mother is a death eater?" He swiftly interrupted, an eyebrow quirked.

"No, this is only hypothetically speaking," I stressed, though, by the look on his face there was no point. "Yeah," I gave in.

He huffed amused, rolling his eyes.

"Right, thought so. Now, carry on. Because-?"

I sighed. "Because she- I don't know how to tell her. I know she's going to be so disappointed. I don't want to be the one to tell her; to see her realise-" I groaned at the thought alone. "Merlin, she's going to be so upset with me. I don't even have a good enough excuse not to tell her. I was just scared, I guess. And-"

"Take a breath, Y/n," He interrupted, his voice firm before he put his hands on each of my shoulders, turning me towards him, and making me look right at him.

He bent down slightly to level his face with mine. "The longer you wait, the worse it'll be for her. I suggest you go and tell her, rip it off like a band-aid, and tell her what you just told me." An encouraging smile found itself on his lips, and for a second, the corner of my mouth twitched into one, too. "-Well, without the imagine thing," He laughed lowly. "Just be honest with her."

I took a deep breath, nodding in understanding.

I knew he was right. And I knew that was the right thing to do way before this conversation. Maybe I just needed someone to affirm what I was already thinking.

Being straight up with her. That couldn't be so hard.

When I looked back up at him, I recognised the question he was about to ask before he even opened his mouth, and I answered it before he even asked.

"Delphia," I quickly muttered, and his face contorted into something you could call recognition. "Delphia Inkwood."

"Well-" He began, rethinking his words before continuing. "As far as I'm aware of, He never made her do anything particularly bad. She was just there because of her position in the ministry," He shrugged, and I scoffed slightly at the nonchalantness in his voice.

"I don't think that's going to make much of a difference to Wren," I said honestly, and he sighed heavily, though nodded afterwards.

"I know. I just thought I'd tell you what I know," He explained. "And, you know, she forgave me, kind of, I guess? So who knows."

My brows shot up in surprise at that, silently asking him to go on. "Well, we talked at the wedding. About you, and my-" He swallowed thickly. "-my arm, and everything that happened. And she took it better than I had expected, to be honest. Maybe because half the wizarding world already suspected it, anyway. Less of a shock," He shrugged.

"Oh," I nodded, eyes still a little wider. "I guess her own mother will be more of a shock, though," I speculated. "No offence," I added.

He simply shrugged the comment off, probably knowing I was right.

"Can you tell me more about her?"

"Delphia sits opposite of me, always thought that woman looked familiar. How was I supposed to know it's because she's an Inkwood?" He shook his head slowly as if thinking he should've figured out. "Most of the time she looks just as happy to be there as I do, but that doesn't say much," He shrugged.

"Thank you," I smiled slightly, sincerity in my voice. "Maybe I should tell her about why we're pretending to hate each other as well, then?"

At that, he furrowed his brows again, a clueless expression on his face.

"You haven't told her? I thought she was just playing along earlier," He grimaced.

"I haven't told her because I don't want her to worry. She didn't even know I was Voldemort's guest of honour for the past month," I explained, ruffling through my hair nervously.

"How would she not assume that after what happened at the wedding?"

I took a deep breath, sighing loudly, and wondering to myself why I hadn't mentioned that ominous letter to him yet.

"Well, it seems like someone took the liberty of pretending to be me; writer her to let her know we were both fine, and she had no need to worry that way," I explained, and his brows knitted together tighter as he listened carefully. "I don't know who it was, and I guess you don't, either. But I'm grateful to whoever did it nonetheless."

"We'll just have to figure that out then, won't we?"


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