Chapter 22

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Anastasia's POV

"I come bearing gifts!" I sat down on the blanket with Ron, Harry, Lucy and Hermione.

"Fruit? We invite a rich, royal, magical princess and she contributes FRUIT to the picnic? You've got to be joking," Ron whined.

"I love fruit!" Hermione snatched up a few grapes and a watermelon slice.

"You need something healthy in that stomach of yours for once, Ron," I joked.

Lucy poked him in the stomach and laughed.

Ron pouted and crossed his arms. "Right right whatever. All of you go ahead and laugh. At least I enjoy my meals and don't have to force down soggy brussel sprouts. Besides, it hasn't had any effect on my striking figure. Isn't that right, my flower?" He rubbed Lucy under the chin like a cat.

Hermione and I turned to each other and pretended to gag.

"Jealousy and more jealousy. Honestly you all, shove off!" He grabbed a chocolate croissant and stuffed it into his mouth.

"I think you're quite handsome, sunshine." Lucy placed a kiss on his cheek.

He smiled and they began whispering disgustingly cute things to each other so Harry, Hermione and I moved on with our own conversation.

"I don't think it's getting better any time soon. Things here are dark and nobody's going to stop him from taking over."

"Hermione, don't be so bleak. We're going to stop him. The smartest witch in existence and you still sound bloody stupid sometimes," Harry encouraged.

"Yeah. Maybe we are going to. It's just... I'm just scared."

"I know," Harry nodded.

I sat in silence next to them. I felt the same way. I was on their side. I was rooting for them. But I had to sit in my circle of friends knowing that soon enough we would be on opposite sides of this. I was with Draco all the way and when I thought of him I wasn't so afraid, but when I was with the others I realized how big of a decision it actually was for me to choose Draco over all else.

"Isn't that right, Anastasia?" Harry yanked me from my thoughts.

"What was that?"

"We're all in this together, isn't that right?" He repeated.

"Yeah. Yeah, we're in this together."

"Oh please!" Ron broke his attention away from his doting girlfriend. "She's dating Malfoy. She might be fond of us, but when it comes down to it, we'll see where her loyalties lie."

My other friends came to my defense, fought against his statement, but the boy and I locked eyes and he knew that he was right.

Harry and Hermione continued on bickering while Lucy looked back and forth between Ron and I and then focused on me. When I switched my gaze from Ron to Lucy, she furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head just barely. Up until then she had believed in me, but for an observant Ravenclaw my current silence alone had been enough to confirm it.

I grabbed a grape and let Harry and Hermione take on the argument for me. I couldn't bring myself to lie right to their faces.

***

"Another year of memories and another summer to tear us apart. It's quite a difficult cycle to endure," Draco sighed and rested his head on my shoulder.

"Now we know we can do it. Daily letters is all it takes."

We both sat in silence for a moment, looking out the train window. This summer was different. The death eaters were preparing and by the time school began again, it would not be sunshine and rainbows.

Together we distracted each other from all that his family was involved in, but now I would not be present to bring him peace. He was the sorrowful one this time and he had every right to be. He would be living in a house with people who worked for the source of all of this conflict.

It was a bit selfish of me to say it'd all be okay. We both had obligations and he often heard my complaints about all of the things that I was expected to do, but my duties were to a country. His were to an evil wizard, determined to begin a war and destroy all those with muggle blood in their veins. So how could I possibly tell him it would all be fine?

He reached out and grabbed my hand. He often did so when his nerves were getting the best of him. I think I calmed him down. At least, he told me I did. When I wasn't sure what to say, he told me that the joy I brought him was enough comfort. Truly I believed all I had to do was love him. He had only told me once, in the deep hours of the night, holding each other as we sat in the Slytherin common room so as not to wake Crabbe and Goyle; his worst fear was being left alone. I would never let such a thing come to life. The truth, though, was that I needed him too.

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