No one ever likes a liar. No matter what way you spin it, no matter what excuses you can pull, there is always someone who never believes you or someone who is hurt from what you say. But sometimes, although the truth can devastate them, spinning a web of deceit is the only real way to protect them from what you have truly done.

So here I am, about to protect him from something and by doing it I will change his opinion of me forever. I will defend him from something that will cut him so deep he won’t be able to heal. But I know, in time, he’ll move on. Perhaps he’ll forgive me; perhaps he’ll come rushing back to me. But he will never find me. I’ll be long gone by then. I will have run far away from everything, from him, from my family, from my past.

This moment will definitely be something I’ll regret, but in time, I’ll learn that what I did was best for him. I love him, more than anything else in the entire world and this is the way I will show and prove my devotion to him, even though it will jeopardize everything we have been through, and every feeling and every emotion will be recalled and then torn to shreds by the lies and the deception. Like I said, no one likes a liar.

I feel queasy after I apparate to his house, gingerly hoping I haven’t splinched myself. I stumble around ungracefully before unlocking the front gate, something my mother would not be very proud of.

The house, although small, is more intimidating than it has ever been before. It’s dark windows, surrounded by untamed ivy, are like eyes, watching me as I move slowly up the path. Perhaps it knows what I’ve got to do, and is judging me. The front garden, overgrown with wild flowers and trees, briefly reminds me of childhood summers spent here, playing games and laughing, surrounded by my cousins and my friends. I distantly recall what it’s like to feel safe, to be protected and warm and well fed. It’s something I haven’t experienced in a while, and something I probably won’t feel for a long time.

The roses on the path’s edge snag at my dress as I wind my way through the untidy garden. Rose wouldn’t want me here; neither would Scorpius, unless he knew that I would tell him the truth. A very small part of me wants to tell him, for it to just spill from my mouth and for it be over and done with. But something like that would crush him, and although I’ll have to live with it forever, I could never bring myself to do that to him.

I reach the front door and I exhale slowly, my breath coming in white clouds in front of my face. I wrap my jacket tighter around me, the chilly evening gripping at my bones. I have rehearsed my story over and over in my head, but I’m sure he won’t believe me. He knows me too well. He will be able to tell whether I am lying. I raise my gloved hand to the door, my clenched fist pausing just inches from the wood. If I don’t knock, if I leave now, I shall avoid this conversation and can disappear tonight. But he will come after me, demand why I didn’t say goodbye and I cannot afford for him to be found by them. If I lie to him, I will protect him from something beyond my control. I want him to be safe. So I knock, and the two sounds ring out in the cold night air. The door opens, and he is standing there, looking down at me.

‘Dom?’

I’m breathless. Someone save me.