These rings will not fix centuries of hatred between the Noble House of Black and The Weasley's. One was willing to hate against blood. One was willing to go against it all. A fine line was drawn and there the hatred blossomed and ran deep throughout our shared trauma.

I don't understand why Cedrella Black decided to marry Sepitmus Weasley. And why it would put someone at risk of being disowned. No one deserves to be thrown out of their family due to who they love. It's not right. It's not okay. The hurt I feel on behalf of her was turning into all sorts of emotions.

It left me with a question to ask. Malfoy and I are sitting in silence while we complete schoolwork on behalf of our absence. The peace was nice. There was no fighting which usually was loud between us. Was it for a show? An act for students to see? I couldn't understand why he was being nice to me all of a sudden, unless this was the act.

"Stop staring at me," says Malfoy.

"Please goes in front of stop," I correct. "Didn't your mother teach you manners?"

"She did. Why do you think I'm being cordial?"

The answer was thrown at my face as if it was attached to a silver dagger. I was doing this out of the goodness of my heart. He was doing this because he wanted nothing else to do with me. All of this was to solve the scandal before it got worse.

I thought carefully about what I was going to say next.

"You're using me, aren't you?"

"Aren't we using each other?"

I didn't know how to respond. Maybe, it was best, if I sit with my emotions before erupting into a volcano. It shows because only hours before I received a vase thrown at my face. I don't know what will happen if I were to speak my truth to this kid. He was so similar to his father in many ways and it couldn't be argued.

"Weasley's and Malfoy's aren't friends; you know this, Adora."

"I'm doing this because I don't want you to suffer, Draco," I said, my voice betraying me acting wobbly whenever I pronounced a word. "When I was due to leave, for our schedule, my sister was extremely upset because I decided to go to help you. Ginny hates you. Ginny prefers the likes of Potter, though I can't see why.

"I could've stayed and consoled her and I chose to still come here because I made a promise. A promise that I wouldn't let you suffer without the support of someone. It's more than a curse. It's a chance to break the trauma between our families.

"A way to be civil once and for all. We can all grow from this experience." I said finally finishing my long tangent.

Malfoy scoffed, placing the quill in the pot of ink as to not waste any when it wasn't in use.

He wasn't talking and I wasn't sure he was fully listening either. It wasn't so obvious with this kid as he wished to remain a mystery. No one was to be able to read him because he refuses to have his heart on his sleeve. The complete opposite of me.

He decided to finally respond. "It's just my cousin acting ridiculous, and the curse will soon sort itself out with time."

"So, why did you want me here? I'm just wasting my time."

The desk was rather large in size but it was beginning to become very tight. Two wooden chairs are placed underneath if ever in need of a study date. Only this wasn't your regular date between two friends that deeply respect one another. It doesn't feel like there was any need for room for two; he wasn't open for friendship, or anything else.

"I don't know," He said, leaning on his forearms. "I didn't have much of a say so."

In this moment, my heart ached for him, but if I was wasting my time then I wasn't going to give away free sympathy.

"Snape thought: you fixed your curse then surely it could be returned."

"And that's why you were being nice? Using my name and all?"

Malfoy nods, still resting, as if he was tired from the emotional stress this caused him. For the first time, in forever, the blue shadows were speaking volumes when the sun shone on his face. He hasn't had the curse on him. I was the first. Draco knew it was only a matter of time before it would turn on him.

What's sad is that there was no way, anyone else could know, meaning he was suffering alone throughout. It's why I tried my hardest to be there for him.

It bothers me that my sympathy was handed over to Draco.

"You've got me to some extent," I joke, resting my hand on his bicep. "You could've mailed me sooner."

"And if someone traced it back to me? I wouldn't have heard the end of it." Malfoy wasn't finding the humour in what I said. His finger rubs the gold ring and it was beginning to glow in the sunlight. "Has it always done that?"

"I haven't had it for a while after returning it to you," I explained, making sure to keep my eyes on it. It was acting odd in my opinion. "Please may I have it for a second?"

"No, it might hex you. I'll place it on the table."

The ring spins in a circle creating a little hum as it vibrated against the desk. Malfoy and I aren't stupid and are glued to the ring. The foreign phrase wasn't there anymore. It was a plain band and it seemed to enjoy being mischievously mysterious.

I was quick to point it out. "It had a phrase on it when I had it."

Malfoy agreed in an aspect. "Same for me. Why isn't it there now?"

I look at Malfoy in astonishment seeing that he was back to his blonde self. My squeal was raw and unedited when it came to my emotions. He looks at me in disgust. But I didn't care, I tap his shoulder, and point to the reflection of the window. It had such a simple answer which I didn't even think of, letting go.

"I didn't want to curse anyone if I took it off, and left it somewhere," he said, grumbling because it was simple. He leans back in his chair and puts his head in his hands obviously pissed off at himself. "You didn't even have to stay a week here."

Draco and I share a look and seemingly thinking the same thing meant we thought it was best to hug it out. A relief washed over us. A childish tendency of Draco was to let go and brush off any passed germs.

I give him a look as if to go: seriously? He was actually joking around because he was quick to smile in return.

Looks like, this ring will be going home to the guild after all. "Do you want to join me to the guild?"

Malfoy shook his head. "I won't be allowed. Do you need any extra supplies?"

I look at my bag, and nod. It was going to be a long trip, so I might has well have good supplies going with me.

Our family trauma may not have broken its cycle. But there was a chance, hope, for the descendants of our line. It might mean the descendants can be friends and possibly be proud of which house their surname is attached to. One small step at a time. Timeless is what it shall become.