if one of them is dead.

chapter twenty-four.

Blaise.

"I don't understand why we still have to take History of Magic," Blaise said, shaking his head.

"How did we get on this conversation again?" Mattheo grumbled, looking at Blaise weirdly. "I thought we were talking about the chocolate frog cards that you were saving since first year."

"I think we were talking about that, actually," Blaise laughed, but his laugh died out quickly. He sighed and shook his head. The book next to his left arm was a Potions book that he didn't remember getting out from the shelves in the library. Mattheo didn't seem to know either, nor did he seem to care.

"I need a drink," Mattheo sighed, running his hands through his hair.

"There you two are. We've been looking everywhere for you," Pansy's voice came from the other end of the book aisle. Draco was following fast on her feet, tugging at his sleeves. Mattheo and Blaise both looked up and rolled their eyes. "This is important," Pansy said, trying to slow down from her sprinting through the castle.

She almost face planted as she grabbed the back of a chair and slowed completely down. Draco almost ran into her but stopped before it happened.

"What the hell do you two want?" Blaise asked, annoyed.

Pansy hopped on the table, and Draco sat down in the chair on the other side of Blaise. "It's about Lilith," Pansy said, catching her breath quickly. "I think something is going on."

"What?" Mattheo asked, furrowing his brows, glaring at Pansy.

"We were thinking— well, Pansy was thinking, and she's bloody brilliant. I can't believe I didn't see it before," Draco started saying, shaking his head.

"What are you going on about?" Blaise snapped.

"It's about Lilith," Pansy said, shifting around. "Look," she said, putting her hands on her thighs, "I have been thinking recently, and I think I figured something out about Lilith— one of her secrets."

"What?" Mattheo asked.

Pansy shook her head. "No, look, okay? Draco was right, no matter how much none of us want to admit it. She lied a lot to all of us. I still can't figure out most of the things that she lied to us about and what secrets she kept from us. But, I think I figured one thing out."

"Get on with it," Blaise sighed. "I don't want to talk to either of you. So, if you can start talking now and get it over with, I would appreciate it."

"Okay," Pansy said, "I think I might now why she didn't want to have sex with you—"

Mattheo cleared his throat. "So, is that common knowledge now or what?" he grumbled, putting his chin in his hand.

"Not exactly," Draco said quietly.

Pansy shook her head. "No, listen, this is important. Now, I know what we have to do to make sure if I'm right.

"We need to go to Dumbledore. Tonight. And we need at ask to see her body— as long as we're all up for it.

"I don't know exactly what she was doing when she was going out at night. I just know that there is a reason she didn't want to undress in front of you— or anyone for that matter." She swallowed from talking fast, clearing her throat. "Over the summer, she started drifting a little, right? Like she was hiding something, or acting closed off?"

Mattheo sighed and nodded.

"I thought about this a little bit. And, we know that she always wore long sleeves, like she was hiding something. She never used to cover her arms, but this year she started doing that. She seemed stressed. She would disappear sometimes, and I think that's where she was going a few of those nights that she left—"

"Doing what exactly?" Blaise asked, furrowing his brows.

"She was going to meet someone," Draco said.

"Someone that no one wanted her to see," Pansy finished for him. "She drifted for a reason, Mattheo. And, if I'm right, you won't be happy about it."

"What are you saying?" Mattheo asked.

Pansy shrugged. "She never wore short sleeves. She never got undressed in front of you. She drifted. She snuck around. She got stressed. And she was always tugging at her left sleeve."

Mattheo suddenly became alert, looking like he just figured something horrifying out. "Pansy," he said, "if you're saying what I think you're saying—"

"I think Lilith became a death eater."