In the muddled mess that was currently representing her brain, Jade tried to figure out how Dara would react if she told him about Andrew. He'd be quiet, she guessed, and he'd continue hugging her, but mostly he'd be quiet. After all, what was there to say? The fact that her brother was a member of the group Dara so openly opposed wasn't going to be one that was easy to swallow. Hell, Jade had been trying to get comfortable with it for months. It wasn't getting any easier.

However, Jade would have rather repeated her seven years (twice) at Hogwarts than have betrayed Andrew. No matter how badly she wanted to be comforted and share her woes, the knowledge couldn't come out to Dara. It wasn't that she didn't trust him- she did- but she didn't know if her trust would be enough to stop him from getting all noble and heroic and pointing a finger via Daily Prophet. It would be a huge break on his part and she knew full well how competitive he could get with his job. She was fairly sure her concerns would come first, but she could never be positive.

Collapsing ungracefully against Dara as he sat down, she did nothing to acknowledge his comforting actions and instead continued staring off into space. She shifted on the cold tile, awkwardly reminded that she wasn't wearing a single stitch of clothing on her bottom. His reassurance that he wouldn't hate her brought a doubtful snort from her, as well as a bit of phlem, and she sloppily wiped her nose with the back of her hand and settled back into his hold. Now wasn't the time to care what she looked like and things were too serious for her to even consider the residue collecting on Dara's chest.

Her head didn't shake or nod throughout his entire questioning. Instead, she found her eyes welling up with a fresh round of tears- Dara's questions had done nothing more than remind her of all sorts of other worries plaguing her. She had been primarily thinking about Andrew, and those worries had covered up the worries that the usual time for her period had come and gone without event, that she couldn't sleep, that she had run into Justin, and that it was likely if certain members of her family discovered she had moved in with a halfblood Hufflepuff she was going to find herself married off.

As the new tears forced their way out, her face becoming horribly flushed and her breathing uneven, she finally shook her head, trying but failing to produce a convincing smile at the oven question. It took her a few minutes to collect herself enough to formulate words, and once she did they were spoken into his shoulder and severely muffled. "I can't tell you, Dara. I want to, but I can't."