CHAPTER THREE
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-: sixth year :-

── IN WHICH THE COUPLE
ARE CALLED UPON

. . .

CIGARETTES HAD BEEN SHARED and jumpers been pulled over crisp black shirts and the short sleeves of Cerise's dress as the sky above them only darkened in wake of the sun setting fully, casting a chill through the air likened to what would be normal whether during the day come September 1st.

The revelation of the plot Draco was now heavily involved in - and his friends growing more and more entangled within as their parents discussed their own wishes for their sons and daughters - had cast an almost awkward chill through the group as they came to terms with what had been said; if Draco were to fail, he would die - and if Draco were to succeed, Dumbledore would die.

And as much as they thought Dumbledore to a coddled, batty old sod who could hardly be trusted to run a school given his frequent disappearances and lack of ability to enlist people's help other than those hundreds of miles away in London - there was an odd sense of unsettling distress that came to the idea of him dying.

But they knew it was the only possible way. Dumbledore was a hinderence to Lord Voldemort's plans, and for it to go well, there couldn't be any such interruption. He had defeated Grindlewald many years before, but there was no way he was anything close to the level of ability and spryness that had had in his youthful years.

"How old is the bastard now?" Theo asked, somewhat tipsy off of a bottle of Firewhiskey summoned by Draco through the Malfoy house-elves, the group have teens having long abandoned the balcony towards the end of the hall on which the meeting room doors lay, instead deciding a walk around the Manor and it's gardens would be a more appropriate way to pass the time.

That and Draco had expressed worries that his mother wouldn't be too pleased if he was told to return to the meeting and they all smelt of muggle cigarettes.

"Who knows." Cerise wrinkled her nose as they made their way down the hallway. She leant in to Draco's sudden touch, smiling up at him. "110? 115? Somewhere around there. He was born in 1881.. defeated Grindelwald in 1945 at the age of 64.. so somewhere around 115. I can't figure it out right now."

"She's right." Blaise nodded, taking the bottle of amber-coloured alcohol from his friend and taking a swig. He wrinkled his nose. "Is this the best you've got, Draco?" He passed it to Cerise, who only sniffed it, nose positioned an inch or so from the rim.

"It's cheap." She mumbled, watching as Draco rolled his eyes. "Come on, you know you couldn't get it past us. Mother would be disappointed to think someone could sneak something under the radar when her interests in her own children solely came through in teaching them how to develop exquisite taste."

"Yes, we know." Theo took the brunt of Cerise's distaste, an arm over her shoulder and swinging around to look up at her. "Don't wrinkle your nose at me like that!"

She smiled, just briefly, pushing his head away gently with a very brief kiss to his temple. "Shhh." Cerise comforted the tipsy boy. A glance to the silver-blond boyfriend and feeling somewhat proud of himself, Theo abided. 

Draco cleared his throat, not all that bothered by the action. "Mother took all the vintages up to the drawing room for the meetings. Apparently, even though we're yet to see the Lord eat, drink or do anything other than orate in front of us. That means speak, Theo." He said.

"Shut up, Malfoy." The Nott retorted, coming to a stop in front of one of the dark-painted doors. "Are we going in?" He asked, eyeing the small nameplate attached to the wood. 

"No-" Cerise shook her head, but it was too late and both Blaise and Theo went to twist the doorknob instantly at the sound of her disapproval. 

"I don't see the problem." Blaise announced, upon seeing the messy, shadowed interior. Draco and Cerise followed in, the former waving his hand and watching as the never-ending candles sat in the bronze sconces set on the deep green wallpaper. 

Theo raised an eyebrow. It wasn't hard to gather concrete evidence from the scene in front of them to delve into exactly why is was so unordered. "Where exactly are you spending your nights, love?" He asked, looking towards Cerise. "Because I'm rather certain it isn't a mile or so down the lane in your own room."

He stepped forward to the bed, reaching past the dumped covers and the black woollen throw intermingled by the footboard, pulling what looked to be a mass of deep purple lace.

"Blaise." Cerise said. "Close your eyes."

There wasn't a moment of hesitation from her brother, who had closed them as soon as he figured what was going on, trying not to listen too much as various rustling noises occcured within the room around him and flinched when he heard what sounded like a resounding slap.

When he finally got the signal to open his eyes, Draco and Theo were pulling the duvet over the mattress, the latter hosting a rather pink mark on his cheek. Otherwise, the room was somewhat spotless, save for a small pile of stuff that Cerise was focused on for just a moment longer, before plonking herself down right in the middle of all of Draco's and Theo's hardwork. 

"I forgot to summon one of the house-elves this morning." Draco pushed out an excuse quickly, taking a seat beside his girlfriend. "But nevermind.. they'll be reprimanded when the time comes."

"Calm down, Malfoy." Blaise sat down as far as he could manage from Cerise and Draco. "And you don't have to speak like we're twelve feet away from a Death Eater meeting. Isn't that the whole reason we came here?"

And that seemed to be the cue prompting them to relax even further than they had been, the cheap Firewhiskey continuing to be passed around and someone finally suggesting that they should have at least something snack-like to wash it all down. 

Once they had eaten, the teens found themselves rather tired - even they were susceptible to the most basic of human measures even if they were immune to many others. It didn't take very long for their chatter to dissolve into silence, replaced by nothing but their steady breathing, slumped on the soft downy mattress of the dark room. 

But it didn't mean they would remain asleep for the rest of the night. Some time later - whether it be an hour or less or more, Theo found his eyes opening upon a disturbance, blinking hurriedly as his gaze landed on a stream of bright light amongst the glow of the candles.

Rolling over, legs tangled in the woollen throw, Theo focused on the sight of a silhouette leaning above Draco and Cerise at the head of the bed. His heart thudded woefully at the sight of their bodies pressed together and a bitter taste came to his mouth.

He couldn't quite figure out why he felt such a way, but watched in silence as Narcissa not only shook her son's shoulder to wake him, but Cerise's as well. "Darlings." The woman spoke crisply, a hint of affection shared between the couple. "Draco, Cerise." She shook a little harder, and Theo watched as the girl sat up first, confused as she looked around. 

"Draco." Cerise hissed, her hand replacing Narcissa's on his shoulder. She peered down to face him, smiling as his eyes opened. "It seems that we're needed."

Draco pushed himself up wearily. "Mother?" He asked, watching as the silhouette nodded.

"The Dark Lord has asked for you both." Narcissa swallowed back her own nerves. "Don't worry, we can get you freshened up on the way there."

Neither had any choice but to go, sliding off of the bed and reaching for their shoes before heading out of the door, which Narcissa shut behind the group. Almost as soon as she did, Blaise and Theo sat up, neither having slept through the entire thing.

Blaise's eyes remained on the door, not exactly realising that Theo was awake as well, but clearly acknowledging his presence. "That bastard's gonna get my sister killed." He grumbled.

Theo glanced at the door, before back to Blaise. "That bastard is your best friend.. and her boyfriend." He replied.

"That's even worse."

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