~Chapter 9: Crying for Help~
"It has to work… The doors just must be... jammed – that's all. Come on. Will you stop standing there and help?"
Hermione's request only earned an uncooperative eye roll from the blond, his evident lack of urgency making her want to wedge his head between the two doors and use it as a prying tool. She knew such tactics would likely be frowned upon, but the temptation still lingered.
"It's rather amusing to watch you attempt this by yourself, Granger."
His late response hardly even registered. She was too busy – reflecting upon their dreadful situation and not allowing herself any more reason to ponder the nagging suspicion pulling at her mind. The one regarding the source of such a predicament and poking holes in her conscious, making little to no actual sense.
Still, she couldn't help but connect the glaringly suspicious dots.
Mipsey wouldn't do this, would she?
Irksome uncertainties, but then again... she was the one who gave her the stack of books – one of them apparently belonging to Malfoy. Had Hermione said something to give Mipsey the wrong idea? An irrational plan over how to trick her into staying? By what, locking her in a library? And with Malfoy of all people...
No, the door was just jammed. Stuck in a particular way that Unlocking Spells posed no use for; that was all.
An assumption she wished she was foolish enough to believe.
"We can just summon a house-elf."
Malfoy's suggestion came suddenly. Almost excitedly before regaining a stern lip – looking over towards her as if he'd known that answer all along and she was some blithering idiot for not having suggested it sooner. She could tell he was bluffing.
"Oh?" Hermione said, feigning ignorance. Or perhaps just stalling.
"I mean, obviously. They can Apparate us out of here."
Hermione opened her mouth, ready to speak an objection, but there simply wasn't one to give. She didn't want to fathom the reaction it would invoke if Mipsey became the one indicted for this. She'd heard horror stories regarding the punishments Dobby received throughout his years of servitude to the Malfoys; who's to say Mipsey would receive any differently? Only this time, it would be her fault... She'd be the one to blame.
Hermione nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I – I, uh, well…"
"You what, Granger?" Malfoy challenged.
Sod it.
It would be more suspicious to object than just to nod and agree. And even if Mipsey did somehow have connections to this, it wasn't like Malfoy ever needed to know. She'd make sure of it.
Thankfully, she was certain there were plenty of other house-elves to call upon. They could Apparate out and part their separate ways without so much as another fluttering mention of the glaringly peculiar incidence. Malfoy probably wouldn't care one way or another; so long as he was through dealing with her. This contempt was practically tattooed on his forehead anyway.
"You're right," Hermione breathed out the two-word agreement, trying to steer away from further controversy. "Of course. Why didn't I think of that?"
"Yes, why?… Thank God one of us can still think logically," Malfoy scoffed averting eye contact once she made it, "I'm not just going to sit around, waiting for you to Bombarda the doors off their hinges like some fucking savage."
Merlin, that would have been a good idea.
"Then why didn't you say anything befo – you know what? Never mind... Go ahead, cry for help. You're brilliant at it, from what I remember."
The words fell from her lips in the same way so many others before them had – with no filter and having little remorse. She prepared herself for some one-liner or a hurtful quip in response, but all Malfoy did was roll his eyes equally as she had prior, following her instructions unlike she ever expected.
"MIPSEY!"
"NO! Wait –" Hermione caught herself, Malfoy looking like he'd just been interrupted in the middle of an Unbreakable Vow. "What about your house-elf? Er, other house-elves, I mean."
"Who better to summon than the one who led you in here? That is what you said, isn't it?"
"Oh, well... yes." Hermione faltered once again, vividly recalling her former declaration about being escorted into the library by a house-elf; but how did Malfoy even remember that part, moreover, draw the correct conclusion because of it?
"Wonderful. Then maybe she has some insight over who decided to lock us in here like bloody prisoners."
Oh, bugger...
"How long does it usually take?" she asked after a few moments of drawn-out silence, feeling somewhat silly for not knowing the answer. Her knowledge regarding summoning spells trained between master and slave relations originated solely from literature she'd read over throughout the years.
As if she'd ever use one in practice...
"Seconds." His muttered response drew up further apprehension. "But of course, you would get assigned the insubordinate one –"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"That one's always running off and getting into trouble –"
"That one has a name, you know!"
And as if on cue, the crack of apparition drew both of their attentions away from one another and onto the centre of the room.
"Young Master Malfoy, you summoned?" said Mipsey, looking up at the pair expectantly.
Hermione spoke up before Malfoy had a chance to, "Yes, Mipsey. We did."
She ignored the patronising glare aimed her way and jumped into a short monologue: quickly rambling over how the doors somehow 'jammed' together and wouldn't budge – even with the utilisation of multiple Unlocking Charms. Mipsey watched her speak, eagerly nodding as if hanging on by a thread to each word that was uttered.
"Yes. Lovely, Granger," Malfoy interrupted before she could ask Mipsey to Apparate them respectively to their separate rooms. "Except you're leaving out the part where the doors are clearly barred by magic, not just stuck together like some ruddy old dresser drawers."
"I was getting to that, thanks."
He cocked an eyebrow in a way which made Hermione question what he thought about. Did he know? Apparently, the conclusion wasn't difficult for her to reach – who's to say he didn't arrive at the same one?
"Because you mentioning by name each and every failed Unlocking Charm was imperative to the story –"
"I was getting there."
"And I was getting to my thirtieth birthday faster –"
"Mipsey maybe knows what happened," said a soft voice which broke apart the oncoming row.
"You do?" questioned Hermione in a gentle hum.
"Yes," nodded the elf, fidgeting more than necessary. "It may have possibly been… Blinky. Blinky was assigned cleaning duty of the library tonight." She paused before flailing her tiny arms out in exasperation. "Mipsey has tried to tell Blinky, but Blinky is very old. Very senile… Blinky must have cast a locking enchantment in here, one that wizard spells won't work on."
Hermione glanced towards Malfoy, who clearly had a much better idea of who Mipsey was referencing than she did.
"Why?" he demanded.
"Well…" Mipsey trailed off, shooting glances between the two of them. "Blinky does not like Miss Hermione, not at all. Not like Mipsey does. Always walking around, saying mean things. Saying terrible things…"
"About me being Muggle-born?" Hermione cut in, suggesting the only thing which made any sense in her mind. She remembered the way Kreacher had initially treated her, reminding herself that prejudice was not only a trait which plagued human beings; it only made sense that the live-in staff ruling over the Malfoy's estate shared in similar belief sets.
Now, if only she believed anything else Mipsey was claiming...
Mipsey nodded, looking down towards her bare feet and shuffling them uncomfortably. "Yes, Miss. Blinky said that Miss Hermione needs to be gone… for good."
xXx
Whatever elf-magic had imposed the locked entryway seemed to dissolve almost immediately after one wave of the creature's small hand, Draco scowling to himself as Mipsey swung open the Library doors with ease.
The entire thing annoyed him to no end. Firstly, because of Granger's irritating mission to make any situation as horrendously difficult to endure as possible. And secondly, because the of the creature's dodgy explanation regarding why the doors had mysteriously sealed in the first place…
He knew Granger plucking something out from of his study was ridiculously uncharacteristic for such a bleeding do-gooder like herself, no matter how many conclusions he had earlier jumped to out of annoyed haste. But why –
"Can Mipsey be of any more service?"
Draco glanced over, the brunette appearing edgy as if hiding a secret that only she knew. Finally, she settled on giving out a curt nod and answering, "No, thank you. Your help is very much appreciated, Mipsey."
"No trouble at all, Miss," came the equally as kiss-arse reply. "Do not hesitate to call if anything else is needed –"
"You did this, didn't you?" said Draco, the retort coming out more as an accusation than a question. The elf just blinked up at him, saying nothing in return.
Bloody insubordinate little –
"Malfoy!" Granger's pitch could have rivalled a screeching Mandrake as she answered before the defiant thing could do so for itself. "She's already told us what happened!"
"Mipsey was downstairs the entire time, Master," the elf finally piped up and took a few steps backwards.
It wasn't that he particularly cared to delve into the topic any further, though watching Granger squirm over everything was entertainment enough to warrant his next declaration.
"Very well then." The girl's shoulders noticeably relaxed until he continued, "I'll be sure to inform my father about his ageing, rogue house-elf who apparently has the audacity to lock people up in rooms… Clearly, something must be done about that." He turned on his heels to leave, walking in the opposite direction and leaving the brunette standing speechless with her eyes bulging out in horror.
He didn't know why he said it; perhaps he just enjoyed a good reaction from her.
And a good reaction was precisely what he got.
"Wait up! Hey, look, I… er, bollocks –" He swore she tripped over thin air but managed to regain her composure within seconds. "I mean – it's fine… it wasn't a big deal. Let's just drop it, yeah? It's not like we were stuck in there all night."
She was walking beside him now. Keeping with his pace down the hallway, moving farther and farther away from the library with each subsequent step forward. The worry etched across her features was ridiculous and unwarranted, though he wasn't sure why each glance he shot backwards made him reconsider the severity of his next question.
"Are you following me?"
"Are you going to tell your parents about this?" Granger asked, almost running into the wall as they turned a sharp corner. "Because, I mean, if you are –"
"That doesn't really concern you, does it? Sort of a family matter," he sneered, taking note of the further upset which flashed across her features.
"I was involved, too. Of course, it concerns me – Hey! Slow down."
"Hm, and let me guess – you're also worried I'll figure out that whole charade back there was a lie?"
"W-what?" she stammered. "No. Of course not –"
"Then why are you still following me?"
"I'm not, I think you're being unreasonable! I want to make sure –"
"That I don't get Mipsey in trouble for locking us in the library and then covering it with some complete and utter bullshit excuse?"
"No –"
"Then what?"
"Fine! Okay! Yes, you're right!" she brashly announced, stepping in front of him so that he couldn't walk without colliding into her halted frame. "It is bullshit. Because... Well, because I did it. I told Mipsey to seal the library shut as a joke. I thought it'd be funny to watch you get worked up over nothing."
As if he were the one who got even remotely worked up... Granger, on the other hand, looked like she might birth a cow when the doors refused to budge. Draco couldn't fathom the type of idiot she assumed him as to believe such a suggestion.
"You're unbelievable." He watched redness flush over her cheeks, but for some reason, she refused to give up.
"I am, yes. You're right. Just promise you won't say anything, okay?" The wench was practically begging him as if he were holding a knife up to the creature's throat. "If you're going to be mad, be mad at me."
"Salazar save us, will you let up already? Fuck... Why are you lying for some bloody house-elf anyway? One of your strange moral convictions? Worried that I'm going to sentence her to death or something?"
"I'm not lyi – wait, what did you say?"
He ignored her question and continued, "Whatever she did and why ever she did it – I don't particularly care." He sidestepped her frozen stance, continuing to walk down the empty corridor until he reached a staircase. They both began to descend it, the girl taking the stairs two at a time to catch up with him.
"S-so you're not going to mention anything about this? Mipsey... she won't be punished?"
Draco snorted. He could think of no announcement he'd rather make less than telling his parents a house-elf managed to barricade him into a room; with the know-it-all Gryffindor no less. Besides, it looked like she may burst into tears if he answered with any form of 'yes' to her pathetic enquiry.
"Of course not." The witch almost crashed into him once he stopped walking, halting directly in front of his bedroom quarters and turning to face her. "She's your problem right now anyway. Not mine."
"Really?" Her eyes lit up, and she soon straightened her posture, clearly trying to shake away the sound of surprise. "I mean, right. Good. I'll… Well, I'll handle it appropriately."
"As I'm sure you will." He began to walk towards his bedroom door, and she mechanically mirrored his movements. "Are you following me into my room also?"
"I, what? No… Is this your room?" she asked, pointing towards the large set of doors they both stood before.
"Yes."
"Oh... okay. Have a good night then?" She said the last bit more like a question, backpedalling away from where he stood. "I'll see you around, I guess. And, well, thank you... For not, you know –"
"Being a 'bloody prick'?" he guessed, remembering her choice words from the night prior. The implication made her eyes roll, but the corner of her mouth tugged up ever so slightly.
"Oh, I definitely wouldn't go that far," admitted Granger as the faintest hint of a smile crossed her lips before she turned back in the directions they'd just come from.
"You know your way back?" he questioned, watching the girl's head snap back, appearing stunned by his question. Nearly as surprised as he was for asking it.
"I – yes… I think so." She nodded, pressing back a segment of horrendously messy brown hair behind her ear.
"Goodnight, Granger."
She blinked back at him, still evidently stunned and shooting him another weak smile before turning to leave. Draco realised then, perhaps a bit oddly and through some questionable observations, just how endearing of a feat it was to render her utterly speechless.
xXx
Hermione arrived back to her room as predicted. Thankfully, with little problems retracing her previous steps throughout the hallways and easily finding the correct staircase which she needed to take. The only thing which confused her was Malfoy's parting words – strangely considerate and lacking in their usual harshness when he bid her goodnight. Though honestly, perhaps it was the circumstance in general that actually held all the puzzlement. She was horrendously befuddled by the entire thing.
Entering inside the suite, she faced head on with the direct cause of that bewilderment; sitting complacently on her bed with tiny legs that swung back and forth. Simply waiting for Hermione to return, or so it seemed.
"Mipsey!" she hissed in a lowered tone, making the elf's triangular ears stick up as she jumped off the bed.
"Yes, Miss –"
"Have you gone mental?" another whisper came out as she closed the door behind her. She hadn't meant for the question to sound so severe or flow with any harshness, truthfully, but Hermione was slowly learning that her once impeccable filter had apparently gone missing.
"Mental?" repeated Mipsey with innocent eyes, strolling up to where Hermione now stood. "What does Miss Hermione mean?"
"Mipsey, I know you were the one who locked us in the library... And then afterwards blamed someone else –"
"Mipsey didn't lie, Miss," the elf explained precisely. "She just omitted the truth... Blinky did cast the locking charm; Mipsey just told Blinky to. Didn't take much convincing... Not much at all."
"But why?"
"Miss Hermione needs a friend in this place. She said so herself."
"I was talking about you!" she groaned, taking on a more calm manner before proceeding. "You can't just lock two people in a library together and expect them to become best mates overnight –"
"Oh, Mipsey didn't expect so."
"Well, whatever it was you expected ultimately backfired... considering you came in and undid everything five minutes later."
"Oh no. It didn't backfire," said Mipsey as if the vague words were enough of an explanation.
"You could have been brutally punished if Malfoy decided to press the issue," Hermione paused, shivering at the thought. "That was a stupid risk to take. Whatever the goal may have been."
"Oh, Mipsey knows Miss Hermione wouldn't let that happen," the elf explained, apparently believing in such a wild insinuation and holding far too much faith than was likely warranted.
"You give me way too much credit..."
"But Mipsey is right! Besides, Mipsey already punished herself in advance. See?"
The elf held out her right arm to gesture towards the tiny blemishes covering it, which Hermione recognised as scattered burn marks varying in severity. Perhaps from a candlestick, or perhaps from magic. It looked gruesomely painful whichever the case may be, and she cringed at such an ungodly visual.
"Look...whatever idea I may have given you," Hermione began, squatting down until she was eye-level with Mipsey. "Just, forget what I said before. I'll come visit you, even after I leave here. Even if the Malfoys refuse it... I'll find a way, alright? Please, just promise me you won't do anything reckless like this again."
"Of course," Mipsey bowed her head. A common gesture of respect Hermione was becoming all too familiar with.
Despite all the unnecessary spats with Malfoy, she had to admit at least one good thing would come from staying there: invaluable, real-life fieldwork with the creatures she fought so passionately for. She had so much progress still to be made with lawmaking and public outreach programmes; it was almost overwhelming to consider. But being around Mipsey was fuelling her passions. Making her remember why she ever got a job working for the magical creature's department in the first place. It was worth it. They were worth it. Caring, intelligent, free thinking creatures still exposed to the horrors of modern day slavery. One day, she vowed, she would change that.
"Good." Hermione visibly relaxed. "Because Merlin, I can't stand the thought of you being physically punished by them or yourself –"
"Young Master Malfoy wouldn't have hurt Mipsey," she quickly interjected. "Mipsey knew that all along."
Hermione snapped her mouth shut, realising it wasn't only herself that Mipsey held far too much faith in.
"Mipsey remembers what Miss said before… She thinks maybe Miss Hermione should also."
"Oh? And what would that be?"
"It would be pretty lonely here without company," Mipsey repeated her words from earlier that day, a calm edge to them which drew in further consideration. "Maybe Miss Hermione isn't the only one who thinks so."
xXx
Hermione knew sleep wasn't going to come easy that night. And perhaps she was forcing herself far too early and far too hard. Likely – but it still didn't change the fact that her body was screaming at her over how exhausted she felt. For what reason, she was unaware. Especially considering most of her day (minus the incident with Malfoy and Mipsey) was spent lounging around in her room or the library. Reading, just as the day prior had been spent.
And just like night prior, a sudden noise amongst the silent blackness caused Hermione to startle. But instead of turning the disruption into a repeat escapade around the Manor, she decided to take on a different approach. A braver one: seek out the source of such ruckus and tell them to bloody well be quiet.
Merlin, it was nearly midnight by the time she finally arose from bed to initiate her investigation. Sleeplessness would soon be the death of her; it was turning her into a madwoman, slowly but surely. Though, this time around at least, she felt like a braver than average madwoman, with her wand drawn and a speck of curiosity flickering within her eyes.
Hermione minded her wand's illumination as she opened the door, noting happily that the four women from the portrait outside were all fast asleep and snoring. Perfect. No nosey questions or bothersome slander to worry about from them.
Creeping out from her room, she heard yet another sound, originating from a closed door across the hallway. Hermione glanced towards one in particular; a clear recognition of the tiniest beam of light which shone beneath its bottom crack. She debated on trying to unlock and open the door herself but argued against it. Someone (or something) had to be in there, and she was dubious that they'd enjoy being barged in on. So instead, Hermione chose equally as barmy of a move.
She knocked.
The pitter-patter of footsteps made Hermione's heartbeat quicken, but she boldly stood her ground, not allowing herself a shred of nervousness until the door finally cracked.
"Can I help you?"
She tried to search through over a dozen things to say right then, finally deciding on potentially the lamest of them all. "Oh, hi there."
"Hello."
Bloody hell, was he everywhere?
"Do you ever sleep?" Another lame retort fell into the air.
"Do you?" Malfoy's quip replaced it.
Well, he did have a point there.
She explained quickly, "Sorry, I thought I heard something. A noise."
How descriptive.
That something was clearly him. Merlin, and right across from her room no less? Wasn't his bedroom downstairs? Not that she was an expert in the Manor's layout by any means, but she knew this most certainly was not it.
"I'll try to be quieter." His words nearly floored her, more relaxed and docile than she expected him to be capable of creating.
"Wait!" Hermione's hand flew up to catch the door before he closed it. "Were you up here last night, too?"
"Yes," Malfoy answered.
"But I thought your room was downstairs –"
"This is my study," he corrected before she could finish, still barricading the door with his tall frame. She didn't know if he was attempting to look intimidating or if such a stance came without effort, but either way – it didn't work to keep her from peering over his shoulder and inside.
The room was dimly lit, a potions workbench and a large cauldron being the focal point of where her eyes honed in on. She could see two opened cabinets filled with various coloured vials – randomised brewing ingredients and tools spanning their cluttered shelves. Or at least, that's what it looked like from her position outside in the hallway. A part of her wanted a better view, but the rational part of her knew better than to ask for one.
Of course, she thought silently to herself. He needed some way to preoccupy his time within the unnecessarily large household. Then again, it wasn't exactly the most settling fact to learn that he was so bloody close-by. Although, it did make more sense as to why he had accused her of going in there and snooping through his things earlier.
"Did you need something else?" he finally interrupted, catching her eyeballing the room behind him before she allowed her gaze to snap back.
If Hermione didn't know any better, she'd swear she caught the faintest hint of Firewhisky lingering on his breath. Then again... perhaps she didn't know any better.
Mipsey's words popped back into her head, but she willfully ignored them.
A strange contemplation crossed over; a consideration of actually staying to talk, but she soon dismissed it. Maybe she was lonelier than she wanted to admit but – more likely – it was induced by the millions of questions hanging around which remained unanswered. About the situation. About his family. His home – even him... It was insane, Hermione knowing the endeavour would likely end in more heated banter. But still, she wondered.
"No," she shook her head. Any conversation which didn't end in her wanting to strangle him should likely be considered a success. No matter how meaningless. "Goodnight, Malfoy. Oh and um, thanks again... For earlier."
"For what?" To her surprise he pressed further before she could walk off, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the doorframe.
For being so un-prattish for thirty whole seconds, but she decided against saying that part of the impromptu reply.
"For not getting Mipsey in trouble. I know caring about house-elf sanctity is probably not exactly your forte –"
"So you're under the false impression that I want them all beaten and maimed, are you?"
"No!" she quickly objected, wondering how he always managed to do that. To take her innocent words and spin them like a broken record, skipping over the most crucial segments of melody. "I just meant, well – I was pleasantly surprised, was all."
"Yes, well – don't go handing out any of your bloody house-elf liberation propaganda to me, Granger. I couldn't care less."
"Oh, believe me... I know." She rolled her eyes, a memory popping up in her mind from years prior. "You've already made that clear before. I don't need any more proof of your talented badge-making skills slipped into my schoolbag to remind me this time –"
"What?" he questioned.
She paused, waiting for him to start sneering over the reference from their schooldays; to make a joke at her expense. No such teasing came, and when she glanced up to prepare for his condescending glare, all she found was a genuine look of anticipation.
He waited for her to answer.
But damn it, she didn't even want to say the reference aloud.
The memory still made her shudder – and what she hated even more than it, was the very real fact that she'd been so shaken up by something so trivial at one point in time. Maybe S.P.E.W. wasn't her greatest success story as far as making headway in house-elf rights, but that one fateful afternoon after potions, when she pulled out a charmed badge from her schoolbag, (which someone had vandalised and left for her to find) nearly wanted to make her throw in the towel right there.
Society for the Prompt Extermination of Repulsive Mudbloods: an acronym which any dimwitted twelve-year-old could've come up with.
Throw in the towel, and bang whatever immature idiot had created it over the head with a beater's bat. She hadn't told Harry or Ron at the time. They were busy; distracted with something else, as so often was the case back then. So she kept the aggravating incident to herself and destroyed the newly altered badge, lest she bothered anyone else with her own stupid problems.
She should have dropped the topic altogether, but something was pressing at her to continue. Unfinished business, a confrontation that never happened. Not as if she was thirsty for revenge over the petty incident, but the way Malfoy was looking at her so expectantly forced the words out.
"That S.P.E.W. badge you got ahold of back in fifth year… Look, I know it was you. And I know your lot was just trying to rile me up, as usual –"
"That idiotic club which only you were a member of? Why would I take one of those things?"
Lies. He knew exactly what she was referencing; she could tell.
"It was not an idiotic club," said Hermione, feeling her face flush with annoyance. "It was an organisation. And for your information, Harry and Ron were members, too –"
"And what shining references those two serve as."
A nasty quip found its way into her mouth, but she stopped herself – they could keep doing this for hours if she allowed it. Having the exact same argument about a hundred different events, a hundred times over. It would change nothing. Talking about the past with Malfoy was more pointless than trying to teach a Hippogriff table manners.
"Forget it," she sighed, conquered by his arrogance and knowing better than to walk herself down this path for the second night in a row. "Not like it matters anymore anyway. Goodnight, Malfoy."
And just before she turned to leave, he stopped her mid-pivot.
"It was Pansy, you know."
"What?"
She turned around, blinking back and half expecting him to retreat into his study and leave her with more questions than answers. It seemed to be the case so often with him anyway. She searched his face to find sheer dishonesty plastered across it, but instead, he looked almost sad. Almost...
She prepared herself to pose another 'what?' But instead, he answered: "She was quite proud of herself for that one. Couldn't keep her fucking mouth shut about the whole thing to save her life of course. Used to laugh about it to everyone in the Slytherin common room... as if she was so horrendously clever for thinking up such an insult."
"And you didn't think so, too?" she asked.
"No," he claimed. "I told her she was an idiot... That if you showed a teacher and they found out, she would probably get her prefect's badge stripped. Not to mention how many house points thrown down the toilet."
"And since when did you concern yourself with morality when it comes to practical jokes?"
"It's got nothing to do with morals. It has to do with sense... something Pansy had very little of," he explained, that unreadable look flashing across his face once more. "She never did know when to just bloody give up."
"Oh?" said Hermione, looking straight up at the blond. Her words were quiet, a strange smirk setting on her lips. "Sounds like somebody else I know..."
"Yeah," he boldly affirmed. "Me too."
A/N: Apologises for the massive delay in updating this. Writer's block and life, in general, got in the way a bit.
I know I left off with a terrible cliffhanger in the last chapter, but a major shoutout to the reviewers who caught on to what was happening with that whole situation. xD And to everyone else, too, who has shown me such wonderful support for this fic! You guys are fantastic!
As usual, I'm showering Phinoa will all the love possible! Thank you so much for reading through this chapter and always being such a huge cheerleader for my stories :)
And speaking of my stories – if you're looking for a dystopic AU fic featuring a married Dramione forced into hiding as Muggles, check out the one-shot I just posted called Playing Dead. I'd love to hear your guy's thoughts and opinions.
Thank you all so much for reading!
~MMM
