Isla sprinted down the stairs so quickly that the hurt of the curse she'd taken the day before didn't feel as painful anymore. It didn't ache as she drew air down her lungs, and it didn't feel like she stepped on glass every time her feet struck the ground.

Not when all she could think of was the fact that Leo had left again.

Ripping the front door open and stumbling out on the porch, she looked around. Her eyes didn't catch a single movement. Nothing but the warm night breeze sipping through the crowns of trees standing around the Nott residence.

She huffed, staring out over nothing.

Both of her boys came up to stand behind her, slightly out of breath from chasing and calling for her as she snuck away from them. Isla couldn't quite blame them for running to catch her after what they'd gone through the past day.

She'd been asleep, indeed, but they hadn't.

Draco and Theo had lived through hell the day she healed, and they weren't going to let her out of their sight anytime soon.

''What happened?'' Isla turned around, her cheeks flushed in a pink color that caught Draco's attention. He looked at her with his lips pressed tight, ''How come he got so upset he just ran out?''

Theodore sighed, his eyes lifted to meet hers, feeling as if she was speaking directly to him, ''Mila... They had a fight, and he got upset, so he left.''

''It's the middle of the night?'' Isla frowned, the moonlight glimmered perfectly from above, and it brightened Theodore's warm curls along with Malfoy's icing eyes, ''What could they possibly have fought about in the middle of the night?''

Draco rolled his eyes, tipping his body to let his shoulder lean against the doorframe. He was still visibly annoyed with the fact that they'd been interrupted.

He finally had a moment alone with her upstairs, a moment where they both let their hearts pour with all the emotions they carried, and it was gone quicker than it happened.

''I don't know,'' Theo crossed his arms, and he kept his sight in hers, ''I was just walking downstairs to get Mila, and they were having this huge argument.''

She nodded, slowly at what the brunet had spoken before her eyes landed on Malfoy, seeing how he raised a brow at her for looking at him. Her cheeks blushed even more, and she snapped her stare back to Theo.

''Do you know where he might have gone? Because it doesn't feel right, that he stormed off in the middle of the night after we got him out just yesterday, and what about Mila? Where is—'' Her questions were blurted out, and her words nearly tangled together.

It wasn't until Theodore stepped out fully on the porch and his arms clung around her shoulders that she felt like she could take a proper breath. He always had that effect on her. He calmed her, more than anyone had the possibility to do.

''Isla,'' He said, his mouth pressing against her head as she buried her face into his chest, ''I don't think this is doing you any good. All this worrying all the time, it's not good for you. Especially not after yesterday.''

His dark note had chills sneaking down her spine as he gripped her harder, holding her locked against him.

''I'm worried about him,'' She whispered, her fingers knitted into his shirt, and she drew herself closer, ''I don't like the idea of him being out there after Azkaban—''

It clocked her mind again. Azkaban.

Everything that had happened in Azkaban, all the way from Draco not speaking to her, to Leo being tortured, to the fact that the two boys — her two boys, willingly broke someone's neck.

''I know,'' Theodore's voice was back in her ears, making her heart pound a little harder, ''But if he felt like he needed to go, then he needed to go. He knows where we are now, and when he's ready, he'll be back.''

Draco silently scoffed to himself, giving a spin of his eyes at the way Theodore looked at the world. Still, it was one of the things he adored with his best friend, how light and shiny everything lived to be for him.

''He's not a bad guy. He wouldn't do anything to risk not being with Mila, and he wouldn't hurt anyone—''

''Like you did?'' She arched back, still held in his arms as she peered up at him, then over at Malfoy, ''Like you two hurt people?''

She knew it was foolish, yet to her — it wasn't. She'd never seen them act the way they'd done, and even if she understood it was solely done to protect her, she couldn't shake the fear she felt from it.

Draco and Theodore took lives like they were nothing.

Like the people now rotting in that prison didn't have families, kids, husbands, and wives, like they didn't have mothers and fathers to visit over the holidays and friends to care for.

She felt bad. Isla felt terrible, and the aching loops of magic still cruising through her soared.

''I was waiting for that one,'' Draco looked away, staring out over the darkness, ''Too bad you didn't lose your memory along with your sanity, Clarke.''

''Why?'' Isla sounded offended, tilting her head to look at him from behind Theodore. She wasn't amused by his way of mocking her, ''So I could forget what, exactly? The fact that you broke someone's neck, or that you went through my head?''

Draco licked his bottom lip, annoyingly, biting it down after. He knew he wasn't completely off her hook yet. He just waited for her to pour this over him, ''You're one special witch, Clarke. Let me tell you that.''

She glared at him, moving Theodore around before she shifted positions in his arms. He was ready to let go of her and to let her discuss this with Malfoy, but she didn't let him. Isla kept his arms over her shoulders, feeling them cross her throat. Her back against his chest.

She felt warmth flush inside her at the way he placed his chin on the top of her head after pressing a kiss into the back of it.

Draco let out something that sounded like a hiss, glaring right back at her, but he wasn't annoyed with the fact that she took this out on him and let Theodore still be close to her. He'd rather have that than her being mad at the both of them.

''Yeah, fine.'' He said, his voice hostile, ''Yes. I killed someone that spoke about you like you were fucking filth.''

She sighed, her shoulders slightly sunk, ''Do you hear yourself right now? You killed someone, Draco. You killed someone for speaking badly, and that's insane—''

''To you,'' He cut her off, his arms coming to cross his chest, ''I killed someone for speaking badly to you.''

She glared at him for correcting her, ''I understood that people would get hurt when we walked in there, but what you did isn't anything I want to be a part of. You broke his neck—''

There was a look on Malfoy's face. There was a shift of panic as his eyes fled to Theo's for just a second until they were locked in hers again. Isla hushed, arching back to see Theodore until she looked at Draco.

''What?'' She asked, confused with Theo's arms still draped across her, ''What are you— Draco? What did you do?''

''You fucking bastard, you told her?'' Draco broke right away, his eyes pierced through the brunet, ''You fucking told—''

''Idiot,'' Theodore held her a little tighter. His breaths were hot over her shoulders as he spoke, ''I haven't had a minute alone with her since she woke up.''

Draco rolled his eyes, realizing that Theodore couldn't have been the one to tell her what happened after she fainted in Azkaban.

She didn't know that there wasn't a place called Azkaban anymore. Isla didn't know what he'd burnt that prison to pieces and that those pieces, along with the souls in it, now rested deeply at the bottom of the ocean.

She'd kill him if she knew.

Theodore held her even tighter than before, ''Just—'' The brunet let out, giving his blond friend a desperate look, ''Just tell her.''

''Tell me what?''

Draco just looked at Theo, his fingers tapping nervously at his crossed arms, ''Nott—''

''Just tell her,'' Theodore cleared again. His eyes were wide as he almost begged his friend now. He knew that Isla and Draco had enough secrets. They couldn't carry more miscommunication and lies before it turned all too heavy for them, ''Stop being a fucking child, and tell her what you did.''

Draco still refused. Gritting his jaw, he tilted his head, staring at the threshold he was balancing on.

''Draco,'' Isla's voice came out so soothing, so mild, and mellow and warm, ''What happened?''

Theodore grinned behind the coverage of her skull, knowing exactly what she wished to do with that voice. She'd used it on him too.

''Nothing happened,'' He spat, visibly annoyed.

Isla peered up over her shoulder at the tall boy standing behind her, and he rose a brow, staring right back at her. A smirk shyly curled in the corner of his lips, not malignancy but comfortingly.

''I'll be back,'' He whispered, pressing a kiss against her forehead before he let go of her, ''To see that you haven't killed him—''

Draco looked furious as Theodore stepped past him into his house, leaving the front door open just in case either of his two people needed him.

''So?'' Her voice still soothed the blond boy, ''What happened?''

''I told you—'' He tried to argue, but the second he wished to do so, Isla had walked closer, so close that he had to push himself off the doorpost and stand straight, ''Clarke, what the hell are you—''

''Tell me...'' She halted right in front of him, her chin tilted upwards to see him properly, and she blinked sweetly at the boy, ''Tell me what happened.''

Draco swallowed thickly as he looked down over her. The way she was standing on that porch, dressed in nothing but her underwear and Theodore's T-shirt as it leveled over the middle of her thighs, her fingers tangled into the edges of the fabric.

He didn't quite know where to look.

Draco didn't know where he was meant to settle his stare as she stood so close to him, knowing that they were millimeters away from kissing each other twenty minutes ago. His body felt like it was on fire, allowing the reality of what happened upstairs to sink into his mind.

She'd been on his lap, straddling him. She'd tangled her fingers in his hair. She'd gripped his shoulder. He'd brushed his hands up and down her bare thighs. He'd held her lower back. He had his face against her shoulder. He felt her nose against his.

He'd been half a second away from kissing her.

He gulped at the thought of it, of having her pressed against him, heaving underneath him, working on top of him. His mouth went bone dry, and his palms lathered in sweat at the thought of her arms around his neck. Her lips melted with his.

He grew nervous at the thought of kissing her again, with clothes or without didn't matter.

All that mattered was that it was her, that it would be her, and that it had been her.

There wasn't going to be anyone after her.

All her, always.

But he'd never admit to it. He'd never let it out or let it slide.

Draco put on a face so serious, yet Isla felt like she could see right through him. Clearing her throat, she hardened her voice, ''Draco, tell me.''

''I can't do that,'' He spoke back, taking a step out on the porch, ''You won't look at me the same afterwards.''

Isla gave a faint breath as she battled her thoughts. Her feet were solid, she stood moored, ''I trusted you,'' She said, ''I trusted you enough to show you everything, Draco. You can trust me with your secret.''

He sucked his inner cheek in, chewing on his bottom lip as he stared down at her, and now it was him having her nervous. He stepped towards her, making her take one track back for every he seized.

''It's not a secret,'' Draco whispered as she kept backing away, ''I'm sure I'll have to pay for what I've done. I didn't hide the fact that it was me who did it, and I didn't have to, because I don't regret what I did.''

''What did you do?'' Her tone shaking, ''What did you—'' She was cut off by her own stumbling. Isla crashed against the wooden enclosure behind her, ''I don't understand—''

Draco kept his intense gaze in hers, and he settled his hands on each side of her. Gripping the wood and trapping her in, ''You don't have to understand. I couldn't give a fuck if you get why I did what I did. You're breathing, and that's all I could ever ask for.''

Isla frowned, her hands moving up to push against his chest, but Malfoy was quicker, and before she knew what happened, he'd lifted her up on the railing, pathing around the porch.

She gasped out, her fingers grasping at his shoulders to steady herself.

''Don't push me away,'' He mumbled. His face was close to the side of her head, nearly breathing the words into her ear. His body moved to stand between her legs, feeling her thighs around his waist, ''Not again, Clarke.''

''You're the one pushing me away,'' She felt his hands on her hips, sneaking below the edge of Theodore's shirt to rest respectfully over her thighs. His rings marked her skin, ''You're the one who refuses to tell me what happened in Azkaban, and I—''

''There's no Azkaban anymore,'' It felt to her as if he became severe. His note was hard and cold. His touch let go of her immediately. He took a step away from her.

Isla scowled now, not clear to what he meant, ''What?'' Shaking her head, her hands gripped at the edges of the wood she was sitting on, ''What are you—''

His face was severe, firm, and dense. Draco stood with his spine straight, his shoulders neatened, his chin held high.

She looked at him. The warmth of her eyes collided with the ice of his. It crashed and burnt and stung within her, like someone had forced a fist through her and dragged her organs out.

''Tell me you didn't.''

Her mind was overworked. The flashing images of people dying and their families being left to fend for themselves haunted her as she closed her eyes.

''Tell me you didn't do what I think you did, Draco.''

He didn't. Draco didn't speak.

She looked up again. Tears had gathered in her eyes, ''There had to be at least a couple of thousands in there, Draco.''

His teeth gritted. Still silent.

''Thousands of people, dying because—''

''Because you got hurt.''

She hushed again.

''Thousands of humans died because one of them chose to hurt you.'' He didn't falter. She'd never seen him this certain about anything, ''No one hurts you. No one lays a hand on you. No one looks at you the wrong way.''

''You killed—''

''And happily fucking so,'' The answer was fast-paced. Like it came straight from his heart, ''It was the easiest fucking thing I've ever done, and I'd do it all over again if I had to. I'd happily sacrifice a thousand lives for yours to be avenged.''

She had never heard anyone speak like he was speaking now, ''Draco—''

He stepped forward again, his hand cupping her jaw and his thumb brushing over her bottom lip, ''No one hurts you, Clarke. Not when you're ours.''

She didn't know how that phrase, how that one claim could have her heart pounding in her ears, but it did. He noticed.

''I'd rather call you mine,'' A faded smile ghosted on his lips, keeping his thumb stroking over hers, ''But you're not letting him go anytime soon, so I guess I'll share you for now.''

Isla was at such a loss for words that she didn't know how to speak. She just sat there, looking at him.

''I killed people, and for you? For you, I'd stop every heart in this world, even if it meant that there was nothing left of my own. I'd happily give you my heart, Clarke. It beats for you anyway.''

She couldn't breathe, nearly shaking as he held her trembling jaw in the palm of his hand, bringing their faces closer, ''I know what you think of this. I know what you think of me. I'm an idiot, yeah? I'm all chaos, and I know that.''

Her chest tightened, feeling the tip of his nose touch hers.

''But I'm your idiot,'' His lips finally, after moments of torture, pressed to hers. Draco kissed her slowly. His hands grabbed her hips and angled her thighs around him, ''I'm your chaos, and you're our mess.''

Isla kissed him back.

Hot, wet, passionate mouth open kisses took place, with his body locked to hers. With their souls tangled and their hearts pounding in the soft light of twilight.

''Mine,'' She whispered as she still kissed him. Knitting her fingers into his hair and tugging at his blond strands, ''You're mine, both of you.''

''Yours,'' Draco pulled her into him even more, it wasn't even possible to have her closer, but he found a way, and his lips moved so intimately with hers, at a feral pace almost until he slowed down, letting his teeth sink into her bottom lip, ''And you're ours.''

Pressing his forehead to hers, he held her right there and then, taking in one of the few moments where they didn't fight, where they didn't seem to loath each other, and where they did more than break another.

''My chaos and your mess,'' She muttered, slightly out of breath at the kisses they'd shared.

Draco nodded slowly, his hands were back on her jaws, and he kissed her one more time, ''Your chaos and our mess.''

Isla moved with him, steadily and so slow that he didn't even notice his back was now pressed against the fence. He was so lost in her, in the feeling and taste of her, and just as he meant to withdraw, to catch a glance of her — she settled both of her hands on his chest.

Smirking, Isla was smirking as he frowned. His sight darted down to her hands and then back up at her, ''Clarke, what the—''

She didn't answer. Instead, she forced him back. Isla pushed him off the porch and over the barrier sealing it, with a dry curl arched on her lips. She peered over the enclosure to look down at him, ''Never read my mind again, Malfoy.''

Draco landed on his back with a whine, his elbows struck the soil as he propped himself up a bit, and he glared back at her, ''You God damn witch—''

''Your,'' She patted the timber, nervously biting down her lower lip with a grin before she gave him a sweet look, ''Your God damn witch.''

He couldn't help but let out a faint chuckle.

''But just because I'm yours doesn't mean you can invade my privacy.'' Stretching over the wood, she spoke down to him, ''My head, and my mind belongs to me, Draco. Promise me that you won't look again.''

He rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue as he stayed on the ground she'd pushed him down to. He wanted to spit something rude back, to offend her for shoving him off the porch, but he couldn't. Draco was weak for that pout of hers, that innocent look she carried.

He caved, ''Fine. I promise.''

Isla smiled at the sight of him splayed out on the grass, his hair tousled, and his cheeks flushed as he stared up at her with a raised brow. A little less broken, a little more understanding.

The skies glimmered in a chaotic mess of stars, light and dark, as if the heavens weren't sure whether to wake up or stay hidden for a few more moments.

The sun battled the moon, and indeed, as the three messy souls they lived to be, chaos parted in the midst of it.

Her chaos and their mess, always.

_____

It had taken Isla nearly an entire day to convince the two boys to let her go to where she believed Leo would be.

She'd argued, brawled, and struggled in her tries to make them sympathize with her and let her go, but they refused.

Both Theodore and Draco barely listened to her when she sought to make her case, when she tried to tell them that they could come with her, that there wasn't any harm or danger where she wished to apparate, but they didn't budge.

Draco just glared at her when she constantly tried to leave, and Theodore smiled, kissing her forehead before he attended to something else.

He couldn't listen to her for more than a minute because he'd cave. He wouldn't be able to stand against her like Draco was capable of.

It was frustrating to her, more than it. It was humiliating and annoying to feel like she wasn't able to do what she pleased, even when it was something as bringing her best friend back.

She slept next to Theodore in his bed, with his body on hers, while Draco rested downstairs on the couch. He didn't want a guest room. He didn't want a bed. He didn't want to sleep because he knew her.

Malfoy knew that even if Theodore had told him to have faith in her — he knew that she would take the first opportunity she got to run off and to do everything they told her not to do.

So he sat there on the couch in front of the fireplace, and he kept his ears sharp, listening for any sounds upstairs that would indicate that she was awake.

He didn't mind that Isla slept next to Theodore. He'd turned her offer down to sleep on the other side of them. She'd asked him if he wished to rest in the same bed as them, and all he'd done in return was to storm downstairs and take the couch as his shelter.

Draco didn't mind the idea of sleeping on each side of her, but he didn't feel like it was right. Theodore and Isla had done unholy things in his bed back when his Manor wasn't a pile of dust, and he knew that he couldn't control himself from doing something similar when Theodore was sleeping beside them.

Draco liked revenge like that.

He'd easily fuck her with his hand over her mouth next to his best friend, and he wouldn't feel bad about it, but she would. He could never do that to either of them. So Draco slept on the sofa, safe with a distance from them.

It wasn't until Theodore was heavily sleeping on top of her and his breaths tickled her jaw she felt confident enough to move him away from her. Even if the grunt he gave in his sleep ached her heart, she kept moving.

Getting dressed quickly in a dress she'd already prepared, she took her wand and tucked it into the straps of it. Then, she slipped out the door.

Isla already damned herself for doing this, she felt so stupid and mean for running away in the middle of the night, but she couldn't let Leo do anything he would regret because she knew he would.

Either, he would run away on his own, and he wouldn't come far because no matter how intelligent and smart her best friend could be, he was impulsive, and it wouldn't take long until a misstep was taken. Or he'd turn himself in not to put Mila in a mess as chaotic as the one they'd rescued him from. There wasn't anything in between.

She knew Leo. She could almost see how all of this would play out.

Stepping down the stairs, she walked to the entrance of the living room, happy with the fact that Theodore's mother was away for business.

Isla peered into the living room. Her fingers gripped the doorpost tightly as she watched Draco lying on the sofa. His eyes closed, his face turned to the fire as it sparked.

He was asleep, and it felt like she could breathe again.

Not wasting another minute, she stepped back, aiming for the front door instead.

Her feet moved rapidly, nearly sprinting towards it in the middle of the night, and just as she placed her hand on the handle, opening it — a hand struck the wood from behind her, and the door was slammed shut.

Isla froze, feeling the raged breaths fanning her neck as he came close to her ear, whispering, ''Where the hell do you think you're going?''

_____