Disclaimer: I DO NOT own any characters from the Harry Potter world. Much love and thanks to JK Rowling for her creation of such a beautiful and magical world.
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Chapter Two – The Mess I Made
Flight was freedom.
Despite the needless broom between her legs, Isla surrendered herself to the all-encompassing motions of flight. The wind whipping her golden hair and flapping through her deep maroon Unspeakables robe, Isla soared higher in the night sky, the clouds surrounding her as the stars seemed just within reach. She glanced behind her to quickly peer around for her slower partner. For all his good looks and charm, Thom Mercade was scared shitless of heights and dreaded the higher skies when their missions required secrecy.
Isla grinned to herself, small hands gripping tighter on the polished wooden handle as she bent down closer to the stick to accelerate once more. Thom groaned from his distanced position and nervously teetered on his broom as he attempted to make it go faster. Instead the broom seemed to sputter before kicking and gaining speed. Thom grasped the handle until his knuckles were white and his leather gloves were stretched tight, praying Isla would pause and wait for him at some point.
They had already been flying over for two hours but their destination on the north western coast of Scotland was still many kilometers away. Thom sighed in relief when the black speck with liquid gold flying above that was Isla came into view. She was doing lazy circles around a small, puffy cloud, broom weaving through the fragments of cottony fluff. When he was close enough she stopped her flight patterns and came to pause in front of him, the handles of their brooms clanking as Thom steadied himself on the resting contraption. Isla noticed his panicked look at the broom and laughed merrily, throwing her golden head back as the tinkling sound echoed in the night sky.
"Still not a fan of heights, Mercade?"
He guffawed and met her ocean gaze with false bravado. "Me? Do I look like the type of wizard who would be scared of anything, Brandt?" Confidence laced his words but Isla recognized his show when she saw it.
She shook her head with amused pleasure and pulled up on her broom to turn around, moving back slightly to idle beside Thom. The wind swept through their thick robes and the pair remained still as the night settled around them. Rotating her head to look at Thom, Isla opened her mouth to speak when a small raven came to rest on the end of her broom. Thom startled and looked to Isla in horror at her bad luck but the witch simply smiled happily and reached a hand out to stroke the bird's spine. The raven preened and spread his wings, jumping off into flight in one swoop. Isla sighed with longing and Thom raised his eyebrows when she finally returned his gaze.
"What?" She said with surprise. "I have a way with birds."
Thom clucked his tongue and chuckled, gripping his broom and lowering his body as he indicated his desire to be on land.
"Whatever you say Brandt. Now can we get going? We still have a ways to go."
Isla laughed once more but obliged, moving to copy his pose and said, "Yes sir," with mock salute. She kicked off and spiraled her broom downwards as Thom raced to catch up. Isla lazily dropped in to large loops until her partner was again beside her. He shook his head in disapproval but gladly let the more experienced witch lead the way towards their destination.
The bright moon was big and full over the ocean's edge when the Unspeakable partners landed on a secluded beach. The soothing waters lapped at the rocky sand beaches, foaming at its peak before retreating to the ocean's depths. High cliffs ran along the outer edges of the ocean front, large spacious houses dotting the coastline with flickering lights or ominous shadows.
Isla walked up the sand until she reached grass where she perched herself on a large tree root, leaning her broom against the trunk as she sat. Thom followed behind, his broom trailing in the sand as he stopped in front of his partner. Isla silently inspected the far away houses, her gaze catching on the darkened homes with approval.
The artifact they were sent to find had supposedly been missing for many decades. The lost pendant of Ophelia was said to hold numerous magical properties, including a mysterious curse. If used properly the jewel could freeze time, rendering the user limitless in their magical capabilities.
The escaped Azkaban convict, Alexzander Worthington, had been following a lead on the location of the iconic pendant when Aurors had followed a tip that lead straight to his hideout. Since his high-stakes breakout three days ago, Isla and Thom had been on a manhunt to find the jewelry before the power hungry criminal could. Their idiotic boss, Colin Fitzpatrick, had stupidly sent them to the countrysides first, ignoring Isla's pleas to retrace Alexzander's path to the oceanside cliffs. When their separate hunts did not produce any results, Colin relented and allowed Isla to drag Thom to the Scottish coasts where Worthington had been found.
The Unspeakables did not know where they should begin their search. Sketchy informants claimed the pendant was located in an abandoned house where "the air was as salty as the water, green lands running into the deep blue oceans." Isla did not hesitate to state her opinion that the clue was clearly pointing to the cliffed beaches where Alexzander had been going.
But now that they were here, Isla could not distinguish any remarkable differences between any of the houses to indicate which one held the necklace. Only two of the seven houses contained signs of human life, leaving the remaining five houses to be searched. Figuring there was no better time to start, Isla stood from her position and faced Thom.
"Let's start with this small fish house on the end." Isla stated, pointing to closest house, a small, wooden shack in comparison to the large looming houses behind it. "We'll have to go through each house down the line."
Thom nodded, turning to levitate their brooms together before casting a shrinking charm to place them in his pocket. His dark hair catching in the ocean's breeze, Thom strode to an overgrown path leading up to the house's sandy back door. Isla fell into his shadow as she followed close, almost running into his broad back when he stopped to Alohomora the rusty locks. The creaky door swung open on its hinges, softly banging against the wall as it opened fully.
Dusty shadows littered the front room, pale moonlight streaming in through the broken windows to illuminate slips of the room. Thom took a step inside, moving aside as Isla walked in behind him, and glanced around with agitated impatience.
"Lumos," both Unspeakables said, raising their wands to survey the little abandoned house.
Cracked dishes littered a wooden table that had seen better days. Insects and bugs crawled around the mildewed sink, flies hovering about over moldy pieces of the cabinets. On the other side of the room a side table was over turned, it's matching chairs on their sides clearly showing the recent presence of someone else searching for something.
"I'll start in here." Isla directed to Thom. "You go to the front and overturn every floor board and open every concealed item until we find something."
Thom nodded and trekked through the scattered debris, his slight light extinguishing as he walked through the battered doorway and into the next room. Isla moved to the discarded piles of trash covering a shadowed corner, beginning a fruitless search that would take them well into the morning hours.
It was nearly noon when Isla decided the small house was empty of their precious necklace and went to find Thom. Calling his name several times, Isla wondered where her egotistical partner could have wandered off to in such a small place when she stumbled upon his sleeping form on a broken couch. The middle support beams were cracked and Thom's ass was snuggled into the sinking section of the couch with his arms tucked behind his head for support.
Isla smiled fondly, reaching a dainty hand to brush a stray lock of dark brown hair from Thom's sweaty forehead. They had not been partners for many months but Isla felt more comfortable with the handsome wizard than she had with any previous man or woman. Draco swore it was because the fellow Unspeakable resembled him in appearance and demeanor but Isla scoffed at that comparison, jokingly ascertaining that Thom was a much better man than Draco. She secretly agreed that the two men held many similar qualities and feared that her attraction to the Malfoy heir would rub off on her relationship with Thom.
The sleeping wizard startled in his sleep and his grey eyes flew open as Isla jumped back to hide her close presence. Thom looked around, his eyes wide like a deer in headlights, and sighed in relief when he only saw Isla standing before him.
"Sorry," Isla said sheepishly, her hands fiddling behind her back as Thom sat up and rubbed at his dry eyes.
"'ts nothing," he responded standing to his full height, just two inches taller than Isla, as she took a step back to give him room as he stretched his long arms high. "I shouldn't have been asleep." Thom punctuated his words with a wide yawn that brought a grin to Isla's impish face.
"Problems at home?" Isla inquired with mild curiosity, a chuckle trailing the end of her question.
Thom dropped his dark head and shook it with resigned placidity. "It's hard with any relationship in the profession we are in. You should know that." Thom added with arrogant assurance.
The friendly smile on her face dropped and Isla's expression became stone as Thom turned from her and walked through the room to the dirty kitchen. She heard rattling and banging of cabinets and broken objects as Thom yelled through the door, "You didn't find anything. Right?"
Isla fumed at his confidence in her inability to complete her job, clenching and unclenching her fists to calm her ignited temper. Mentally counting to three, Isla huffed loudly before stepping quietly through the entrance to glare at Thom between slit eyes.
"No." She ground out, her tan arms crossing over her robed chest. "But then again, it does not seem like you found anything with your arse firmly planted between the couch cushions."
"See that's why I like you, Brandt." Thom said with a chuckle, turning around to lean backwards against the ceramic sink. "You don't mince your words and you don't take shite from anyone."
Not knowing how to respond to such a randomly sincere thought from her partner, Isla furrowed her brows and tightened her arms crossed around her body before speaking.
"There's nothing here. There are four more houses down the coast that are empty. Let's get going to the next one before I decide you're not worth the time and finish this mission alone."
She did not give Thom a moment to respond and promptly began walking to the exit. His grin widened and Thom shook his head as he pushed off the sink to follow her out. Jogging to catch up to her on the over grown grassy lawn, Thom jokingly doubled over to catch his breath when he stopped in front of her.
"I have a better idea." He said when she glared at his stance impeding her movement. "How's about I go find us some food in the local town and you go on up to the next house and start looking? I'm famished and I'm sure your stomach would appreciate some fuel about now too."
Isla opened to mouth to protest, to say that of course he would volunteer to leave the mission for a couple of hours, when her stomach opened up and growled loudly. She crossed her arms once more to cover the sound but it was only muffled as Thom snickered despite Isla's fierce stance.
"Fine. But be quick. I'm not getting paid to do all your work too."
Thom laughed sarcastically. "Ha ha Isla. You make it sound like all I do is lounge about." He smiled goofily, laughing at his own joker, before grabbing Isla by the shoulders and pulling her in to sloppily kiss her on the cheek. She was less stunned than grossed out by his reaction and moved to shove him away when he released her and jumped back a step. "Thanks honey. You're a doll." Thom stated, his voice imitating her higher pitch. "I'll be back soon. Don't save all the good trash digging for me!"
Thom turned and was walking away before Isla could come up with a snarky remark. His retreating figure bouncing merrily, Isla cursed Thom and his ingenuity. She glanced over her shoulder at their next house and with a resigned sigh Isla trekked through the underbrush until she reached the next battered door of their second house.
Thom returned in less time than she thought and Isla was quick to insinuate that there must have been no attractive witches in the village or else she would not have seen him for days. He conceded with a devil may care, cheesy grin while laying out a feast of assorted foods. They ate well and rested for a couple of hours before they agreed the necklace would not find itself.
Thom and Isla spent the next four days scouring three of the remaining houses, each large home proving to be more fruitless than the last. Abandoned residences seemed to collect all sorts of odd items and each day brought new surprises to the Unspeakables who thought they had seen it all. The third house on the shoreline they entered had been the most bizarre. Each room was at one time decorated with opposing themes to the connecting rooms. Isla was startled to walk through one doorway and find herself surrounded by at least one hundred mounted heads of endangered species from around the world.
Needless to say, both Thom and Isla were very glad that they were finally reaching their final house to search. The last house was on the point of the cove, a small cement house by the water's edge surrounded by overgrown hedges and massive trees. The pair hiked along the beaten path until it circled around to face the little house. Both Isla and Thom stopped in their tracks when their backs faced the ocean and they looked up at the sprawling property behind the house.
An old, Victorian style home covered a half acre of land, decrepit wooden boards falling off from various pieces of the house. It looked like an antique doll house, the white trim and sea foam green color barely tarnished in its abandoned state. Everything seemed fine as the Unspeakables made their way across the overgrown lawn to walk up the rickety stairs to the wrap-around porch. A beautiful old oak tree in the front yard threw shadows across the threatening house and enhanced the chills along her spine as Isla stepped on each ancient plank of wood. Thom walked down the creaking patio, cupping his hands to peer into the darkened windows of the house.
"It looks empty," he said after a moment, leaning back to brush his hands of the dust from the unwashed windows.
Isla nodded and pulled out her wand to tap it three times against the firm door. A blue haze grew from the tip of her wand and ran across the wooden boards of the house, a detection spell set to trace any forms of life. When nothing happened Isla waved her wand once more and whispered, Alohomora, as the door pushed open and a slight draft expelled from the opening. Thom did not hesitate and shouldered past Isla to walk through the entryway and into the musky house. Isla followed him in and shoved the noisy door shut behind her, dust billowing up to cause her to sneeze as the outside winds died.
Catching the attention of his partner, Thom pointed to the separate doors leading from the room while speaking. "I'll scope out the first floor while you take a look at the upstairs. We'll get a feel for the house and where everything is and then decide where to start. Deal?"
Isla nodded her head, looking around interestedly. "Deal."
The pair split up. Thom took his athlete's body into one of the dining rooms while Isla turned to walk up the grand front staircase. Large portraits and scenic landscapes dotted the flowery wallpapered halls and Isla stopped to admire the moving people and settings as she slowly worked her way to the second floor. There was no telling which wealthy pureblooded family had owned this house but they were obviously Dark Arts supporters if the necklace of Ophelia was rumored to be here.
An hour or so later, just as the sun was setting and casting shades of reds, oranges, and pinks through the many windows, Isla walked back downstairs just as Thom was coming out of the kitchen, the swinging door banging loudly as it shut behind him.
"Anything?" He asked with mild disinterest as he shoved his thin hands into the front pockets of his robes.
"Nothing terribly alarming. Your basic bedrooms, drawing rooms, play rooms. Pretty much any kind of room you could want for entertainment purposes - it's upstairs. Nice bathrooms too. Big, ornate bath tubs with the clawed feet and –"
"Yea, I get the picture." Thom interrupted. "These people had money. And from the looks of it, they weren't too cautious with spending it."
He glanced around, his gaze dropping on every piece of perfectly in place furniture, every item that was strewn about as if it were left but for a moment.
"But did you get the feeling that a family still lives here? As if we're intruding while they're out on holiday?"
Isla scrunched her nose, thinking back to the rooms she had just wandered through, a vague sense of misplacement creeping over her. Each room had felt as if the presence of someone had just left, as if the warmth was waiting to return shortly.
"Yes. I had that feeling." She admitted. "The nursery had a fresh set of travelling clothes and needed baby essentials laid out. And the music room, the piano bench was pushed out just far enough from the piano to look like someone had just walked off. The sheet music was turned to the middle of a hand-written song with a dried bottle of ink sitting beside it. I didn't think twice about it but now that you say that. . . ."
She stared at Thom with growing unease, his own dark eyebrows clasped together as he quickly thought through their situation.
"Maybe we should wait until daylight tomorrow to begin searching this house. I'm getting an ominous feeling just standing here with no lights on." Isla suggested, her hesitant steps already taking her to the waiting front door.
Thom met her scrutinizing stare with a nod, his arms crossing over his broad chest as he paced towards Isla.
"I agree but we have already been out here for a week. Searching this house could take us a few days and I do not want to spend more time procrastinating our explorations until day break." Thom admitted, uncertainty lacing his words as he ceased his movements in front of Isla.
Sighing heavily, Isla dropped her gaze to the wooden floors. She knew he was right; any more nights away from her oversized, overstuffed bed, Draco's hard body warm behind her, and Isla knew she would be likely to cement Thom to a broom, hexing him to fly, until he agreed to go home.
But the eerie vibe she felt coming off this house gave Isla pause. Even for the brief minutes she had slipped into her Animagus form, Isla had sensed a magical pull to the house. She may only turn into a simple bird of flight, but Isla had too been conscious of the energy when in her second form.
"Fine." She agreed, her disapproval and reluctance evident in her tone of voice. "But first, we're going to the village for supper and a wash up. I will not trust any of the bathrooms in this house to not spray poison on me or suck me down the drains."
Thom laughed with incredulity, his thick head of dark hair thrown back as he mentally pictured a naked Isla begging him for help as she struggled to hold onto the edge of the large tubs. She huffed at his amusement, her arms crossing as she stomped her foot to get her partner's attention. Thom continued laughing, Isla's shrieking face imprinted in his thoughts as he opened his stormy eyes to peer at the upset witch.
Throwing his arms up in surrender, Thom strode forward until he was an arm's length from Isla. He reached up and grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her slightly as she cocked an indignant eyebrow.
"Lighten up, Brandt. Another 24 hours and we'll be done with this shotty assignment."
Removing herself from his playful grasp, Isla marched to the front door and swung it open, turning back to look at Thom as she stood in the doorway. "Are you coming or not?" She asked sassily.
Thom grinned further, his loping gait carrying him past his waiting partner to stand once more on the creaking wooden porch. Isla halted just behind him, pulling the door shut before muttering a quick locking charm. You could never be too cautious when risking your life for a meaningless artifact, she always used to say. Thom now waiting on the grass below, Isla moved down the groaning steps, excitedly moving away from the haunted house.
It was near midnight when the light hearted pair ambled back onto the house's property and jumped onto the porch in unison, their combined laughter spilling across the empty land. Thom stood off to the side, finishing the explanation of a joke as Isla half-listened, half-concentrated on opening the front door once more. They were exuberant from their hours spent away from the house, their worries escaped as they relaxed for a bit.
Isla recalled the disarming charm for her earlier locking and pushed at the large door, whispering Alohamora just in case, while shoving slightly until the door gave and she fell into the foyer of the grand house. Thom chuckled behind her but ceased instantly when he took a step through the open doorway, giving Isla a hand to stand up. It was bright; candles were lit despite the vacant outward appearance and the random items that were neatly placed before were now clearly strewn about.
Someone was here.
Clanking could be heard from the rear of the house and Isla glanced back to Thom, walking slowly in the direction of the noise as she steadied her wand towards her path. With as much silence and stealth as she could manage, Isla pressed against the swinging kitchen door until she was peering through a thin crack, two voices spilling into the vacant air of the house.
The spacious kitchen was aglow, smells of cooking foods wafting through the small opening. Her blue eyes darted around until the shadow of a man came into focus. He was short, burly with a thick mane of carroty orange hair atop his scarred face. She could not see who he was talking to but the woman in the room responded to his words, her light voice sounding familiar against Isla's ears.
Thom moved behind her until his slightly larger frame was hovering over her shoulder, his head turned so his ear was focused on the other room's chatter. A nervous tremble enclosed Isla as his warmth surrounded her but she knocked it off to nerves for their current predicament and returned her attention to the bickering couple in the kitchen.
"- you need me for is to do your dirty work. I ain't doing it anymore!" The angry man was now yelling.
"Dirty work?" The more sophisticated woman responded. "Darling, my dirty work does not actually entail dirty hands. And I know that is what you're implying, Henry."
"Then why did you only call on me because you were lookin' for something?" Henry questioned. In the short crack Isla and Thom saw him raise the long knife he had been using to butcher a chicken and point it in the direction of where the woman was sitting. "You've shunned me all these years 'cause I'm a Squib, Celia, don't forget that. I bet it was all Duke and Honey's idea to send you down here to fetch me, our loving parents would not disgrace themselves with searching for their forgotten son."
The recognition came to Isla in that instant. Celia as in Celia Presston, the notoriously scandalous daughter of Duke Presston, wizarding publisher extraordinaire. She took a large gulp of air and pushed back against Thom, gently releasing the door as they stepped back from the kitchen.
Thom looked to her in shock, recognition dawning on his face as well.
"What the fuck are we going to do?" He blanched, his handsome face falling white as the siblings' arguing escalated. "They're looking for the necklace too! And the Presstons! If Fitzpatrick finds out that they're after this thing, he'll reassign the case to Shackford and Dunlope."
"I know!" Isla hoarsely whispered. "We can't leave now. We'll have to search the house using silencing charms until we figure out what their agenda is. We'll have to go -"
Isla had leaned backwards and not realizing there was a coat rack and umbrella holder just to her left, she bumped into the taller object, knocking it against the wall before it crashed to the floor in a loud clamor. She automatically winced, squeezing her eyes shut as the entire house quieted at the sudden interruption.
The Presston siblings were silent in the kitchen, their slight footsteps shuffling across the room to face the swinging door. Thom looked thoroughly embarrassed and annoyed. He raised his arm and held his palm out as if he were going to smack Isla for her stupidity, their joking gesture coming as second nature when it was meant as a serious action.
With nowhere to run and their intruders quickly moving to search for the source of the commotion, Isla and Thom backed against opposing walls with their wands stiffly held at their sides within aiming distance. Their gazes met and for the numerous time, the Unspeakable partners nodded curtly as a fight approached.
An empty push propelled the swinging door forward. From her position on the side of the room facing the opening door, Isla saw the shadowed figures of Celia and Henry Presston. Henry was standing protectively in front of his older sister, the knife clearly visible as Celia reached an arm around her brother to poke her wand forward.
The door swung back to the kitchen and when it opened again to the foyer Isla noticed the change in the sibling's stance a moment too late. Henry pressed a hand near the hinges of the door to hold it open as Celia ducked around the door frame to point her wand at Isla, her red lips curled in a curse. Her arm was moving to raise her wand completely when a black blur jumped in front of Isla.
Celia threw her curse at the same instant, her hatred scream of "Sectumsempra!", hitting Thom in the chest as he blocked the hex from getting Isla. Her piercing shrill sounded with the thud of his body on the floor as Isla dropped to knees to press her hands in the bleeding torso of her partner. Celia cackled mercilessly and aimed her wand at Isla, her fingers grasping it tighter as Henry took a predatory step forward.
Isla tore her gaze from the dying man in her lap to hatefully stare at Celia. Her hand moved of its own accord and Isla did not have to stop herself as she directed her wand at Henry and yelled, "Stupefy!" His eyes widened in shock and the Squib got his leg lifted to run when the powerful spell hit him full on. His robust body smashed against the wooden door and he fell backwards onto the kitchen tile as his head hit the corner of the door jam, striking away his consciousness and creating a pool of blood under his red head.
Celia cried out and threw an arm up to catch the door before it came back to hit her in the face. The brunette roared in anger as she turned on Isla in a fury. She bolted through the opened door and walked the short distance to Isla's position as the swinging door fell back to shut, pushing Henry's prone body into the kitchen and out of sight.
"You bitch!" Celia cried.
She stooped to grab Isla by the collar of her robes but the Unspeakable was faster. Isla released her grip on the still bleeding Thom and shoved her wand in the approaching face of Celia. The witch did not stop her movement and as Isla sprung her legs to stand up, they collided, Celia pressing Isla awkwardly against the wall.
The women struggled for dominance as Isla's wand was stuck between their bodies. Celia was able to wiggle her forearm up Isla's chest and press her elbow into her collarbone, pinning Isla to the wall. Celia grinned evilly, steadying her stance to place her right foot on the outside of Isla's and suffocate the woman with her presence as she pressed the length of her body against her. Isla turned her head to the side as Celia leaned in close and breathed down her neck, her warm breath blowing across Isla's heaving chest.
"Look who's got who now, you little bitch." Celia whispered.
Isla shut her eyes as Celia deliberately breathed down her neck, missing the slight movement as Celia reached to the side table to her right to firmly grasp a thick, golden candlestick. She held it behind her head, posed ready to strike the witch in front of her. Isla's eyes popped open when Celia released her weight just the slightest bit, her vision clearing as the Presston witch rotated her shoulder to deliver a heavy blow with the metal object.
She reacted so instantaneously that when she thought back on it, Isla was scared of the quick movements she performed.
Mouthing the words and holding her wand tighter in her sweaty palm, Isla screamed "Avada Kedavra!" in the spilt second it took for her to see the damaging blow that was going to be inflicted on her. Celia's caramel eyes widened a fraction before the powerful jet of green light overcame her body and took her life. Isla was shaking as the woman coldly fell to the ground, falling haphazardly to her side as the candlestick holder hit the wood with a loud clank.
Nearly frozen to the spot, Isla began hyperventilating. She had never killed someone intentionally before. In the line of duty, yes. But she did not think this would qualify for an it's-ok pass as a work related accident. Isla quickly stepped over Celia's body to press open the kitchen door to look down on Henry.
The pool of congealed blood underneath his head and body was large enough that Isla knew he would not wake as well. She stumbled backwards, the door swinging in front of her as the enormity of her actions crashed down on her.
Isla was torn from her shock by a thick groan and she turned in remembrance as Thom clutched his gaping wounds and met her gaze with a pleading look. She hurried to the floor, sliding in his blood as she drug his body across her lap to heal the wounds.
She looked at his face with a panicked expression, her small hands hovering over his torso as she stroked her wand back and forth, muttering healing spells to return some of the blood and clot the rest, sealing the wounds as best she could. His shirt was torn apart from the curse and Isla wept openly as she lightly traced the fresh scars on his body. Thom lay unconscious against her splayed thighs; his limp body sprawled out as if he were kicking an invisible foe.
Blood splattered everywhere, covering her hands and arms, Isla cried for the loss of life and her hand in the actions. She cried for the uncertainty of what would happen now. But mostly importantly, Isla cried for the piece of herself that she had destroyed when she intentionally killed Celia Presston.
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A/N: Thank you for reading! The plot bunny has been running light speed circles in my head and I had to hurriedly get all this down before the bunny became distracted with another Sev/Lily idea. This was the first piece of anything that I have written for this story in over a year and I am very pleased with how it turned out, and so very quick too! Anyways, the story will now pick up and get into the juicy plot details. Of course I have gone too long without talk of my favorite leading man, so do not worry, Draco will be back in full force in the next chapter.
Please review and tell me what you think! Reviews are the main way I know that somebody, somewhere wants me to finish this tale. AND, I really appreciate the stroking of my ego. So go now! Review!
