Chapter 10: Noting and Repression

DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the characters, just the plot. This fanfic will have slash, how detailed it will be I don't quite know yet . . . also it disregards the sixth book.

Wow, just realized I was going to change the title when I posted chapter 8, yeah well I suppose that won't happen now I am satisfied with the title . . . I apologize for the mistakes my beta Ibrium has been busy . . . and so have I—hence the reason I shitty at updating as frequently as I used to.

Sorry there aren't as many innuendos.

Still lovin' all of the reviews XD

Last chapter:

As they made their way it suddenly became overcast and it began to drizzle. "Odd weather." Hermione stated in genuine curiosity. "It got really cold all of a sudden." The more they walked the darker it seemed to get.

"Something doesn't—" Harry began when a terrible shriek emitted from the nearby ally.

Just as it so happened, nobody else happened to be occupying the street other than them. The blood curdling screams seemed to only be heard by them. They exchanged confused and adrenaline rushed looks before they reacted.

The screams faded into gurgling gasps as the trio rushed to find the source and what meet their unsuspecting eyes was a worse scene than any of them could have ever imagined. Ginny was pinned against the wall by two Death Eaters, she was struggling weakly, her underwear was pulled down to her ankles and a third Death Eater was closing in on her writhing body. Harry, Ron, and Hermione watched in utter horror at the scene before them as they clattered to a loud and conspicuous stop which, not so surprisingly, caught the attention of the third Death Eater.

"Well, well. It appears our little trap seems to have succeeded. You didn't come as fast as we expected," The Death Eater shrugged without a grudge. "But no complaints from us, we had some fun," he smirked as he nodded toward Ginny's battered body. "Right boys?" The voice behind the mask cackled with sadistic glee. "What? Cat got your tongue Hero-boy?" He spat the last two words with a biting tone.

"Your beloved Draco said you'd put up more of a fight. Where's all your spirit Potter?" One of the masked men that was holding Ginny's arm taunted mockingly. "Oops." He dawned a false look of surprise and anguish. "You didn't know Draco was the one who told us everything? Are your feelings hurt Potter?" He asked in a patronizing sort of voice. The hysterical laughter of the three Death Eaters ricocheted off the bricks of the alley walls around them, amplifying their amusement into shrill noises that burned at Harry's intestines.

"He wouldn't do that." Harry breathed; he was shaking in rage as he whipped out his wand and pointed it directly at the first Death Eater's heart. "Don't lie to me!!!" He demanded vehemently, staring the Death Eater head on meeting him eye to eye.

"Oh, is Potter in denial?" The Death Eater sneered in mocking sympathy. "Don't fool yourself kid, you couldn't kill me, let alone harm me. You're too good." He elongated the word 'good' taking longer than necessary to say it, attacking Harry's "goodness" and drilling it into his head that it is his biggest weakness. "All I have to do is tell you I'm on your side." The Death Eaters once again joined in cacophonic laughter that lashed at Harry.

"TAKE IT BACK!!!" Harry exclaimed in a deafening roar of wrath, his eyes shut in an attempt to force such a demand upon the Death Eater solely with the pure strength of will. His wand pulsated angrily in his hand as if it was experiencing the very thoughts and emotions that were coursing through every fiber of his body: anger, anguish, murderous hate, and desperation. Without a second thought or emotion, it shot off the most fantastical sight; the very fabric of time seemed to have been permeated as the entirety of the universe slowed, allowing mere seconds to stretch out to its own infinity. A streaming bolt burst forth as his mind broke; the lightening magic was a blinding phosphorescent green color, telling of the unadulterated hatred Harry possessed with untold immensity. Not but a millisecond later two streams of blazing ice cold fire swirled around the bolt. The atmosphere became frigid and everyone was paralyzed by the intense magic. As the man watched, the magic approach him, his face contorting into a physical manifestation of an absolute feeling of terror. Harry witnessed the Death Eater's last pitiful gasp of breath that appeared as mist that looked as if it possessed his very soul colored with a fear greater than any other sentient being had ever known. As time resumed its normal course the Death Eater didn't even have time for a heart-wrenching, skull-splitting shriek before the flaming bolt struck his sternum and enveloped his body with white-hot, searing flames. The man writhed in unfathomable pain as he fell limply to his knees before finally dropping to the ground, in the processes shattering the mask and twisting his neck so that the soulless face stared unseeing at Harry, before the dust settled an audible crunch emanated throughout the alley as every bone in his body fractured or broke. His now exposed face was an ashen shade of death and his face wore a permanent look of terror focused in the black holes that had once bore eyes. Harry was breathing heavily and rapidly, almost at the point of hyperventilating as he slowly lowered his wand.

The remaining two Death Eaters closed their gaping mouths and fled before they had the chance to find out if they would be killed too. Ginny was left to slide down the wall, collapsing into a heap of limbs onto the dingy, littered alley floor. Hermione stared dumbfounded at Harry, utterly speechless as Ron immediately rushed to his sister's side. He unsuccessfully chocked back his tears of sadness and anger as he delicately maneuvered Ginny so that she leant against his shoulders as he pulled up her underwear. He then gently placed her back against the wall as he retrieved her pants that were strewn just a few feet away, all the while wiping the tears that were silently streaming down his face unseen by his two friends. He laboriously bent over to pick them up and shuffled like a zombie back to his sister to dress her so she might be able to regain any shred of dignity.

"What have you done Harry?" Hermione whispered in a cracked voice, she looked desperately at Harry, searching his eyes for a hint or clue that would place the murder on someone or something else; she found nothing, nothing at all, the once vibrant green eyes seemed to swirl with uncertainty as if the light behind them had been turned off and the pigments in his irises didn't know how to appear. She slowly collapsed to her knees, staring at the ground searching through her mind for a rational explanation for what Harry had done but her eyes just kept twitching, blindly scanning the ground until Harry began to speak.

Harry looked at her completely numb, as if he didn't even have control of his movements or words and unaware of the eerie tone that laced his response. "A lot of things happen that weren't suppose to, get used to it because just in case you haven't noticed but shitty things like this tend to happen to me all the time." His gaze at her faded as he turned his attention to his hand. He stared at it disinterestedly, as if it wasn't even his own before he shoved his wand back into his jean pocket.

"But—you've never killed anyone before." Hermione spoke in a quite undertone; she seemed to breathe the word 'killed' as if it was cursed, afraid of the implications, afraid that having said it aloud would make her accept the fact and make it real; the fact that Harry had killed the Death Eater.

"Would you rather have had me let Ginny get—get hurt?" He asked darkly in a 'what the hell are you thinking' kind of tone as he walked away from her toward Ron and his now unconscious sister. He then addressed Ron, "Let's get her to your Dad and to a hospital, she's pretty beat up." Ron nodded as Harry lifted the small, cold body off the alley floor. He and Ron walked at a fast pace to get as far away from that place as quickly as possible when Hermione, who hadn't moved an inch since her collapse, jerkily rose the her feet and locked eyes with Harry.

"I told you Malfoy would betray you! You had no reason to trust him!" She exclaimed poisonously, her face on the threshold of looking entirely deranged. "I am the smart one. Why don't you listen to me and not just when I'm giving you the answers to homework?" Something seemed to be clawing with anger just below the surface of her skin, dying to get out as she gazed determinedly and desperately at Harry.

"This is neither the time nor the place to discuss such matters." Harry spoke clearly and calmly without a single emotion or inflection present in his voice that could betray what he was thinking and feeling. Such irrevocable ignorance left Hermione gaping at his back as he walked away from her, such blatant rejection made her feel empty. She silently followed them as they once again seemed to enter the land of the living where they were again surrounded by the familiar sounds of the populated Diagon Alley. They paid no attention to anyone and no one paid any attention to them as they slid their way through the crowd in search of Mr. Weasely.

Ron kept mumbling incoherently to himself, mulling over how this could have happened to his sister and where in the world his dad could have been. Hermione lagged behind them appearing to be a wispy shadow in the wind, barely managing to keep up with her acquaintances she was still wounded from Harry's ignorance of her, treating her like an annoyance that didn't know what was going on.

"Hey, mate," Ron looked glaringly ahead of him not wanting to face Harry, afraid that the pure unadulterated hate that was etched onto his face would scare him. "The next time I see Malfoy I'm gonna kill him." There was no emphasis on any syllable; it was a promise. The words were like shards of dry ice, each delicately piercing Harry's spinal cord, sending a deep chill the penetrated him to the very marrow of his bones and reaching every end of his being with sharp pangs of arctic bursts. Harry knew it was not the time to contradict or reason with Ron and instead opted to remain silent and stare intently at the path before him.

Hours seemed to drudge past them as their silent search for Mr. Weasely continued the crowd melted into one entity that moved around them unseeing. Even the buildings blurred around them and failed to help them in their search as in their desperation they began to forget to think making all the buildings look the same. Ginny even regained consciousness and even managed to walk on her own. This considerably slowed down their search as not only was she injured but she insisted on clutching onto Ron's around his waist hiding her face in his side. They eventually found Mr. Weasely standing unsuspectingly in front of Gringotts.

"It's 2 o'clock, where have you three been? Oh, Ginny, you're with them! Thank Merlin, I was wondering where you had wandered off to." Mr. Weasely cheerily remarked patting Harry on the shoulder. Then, upon noticing their grave expressions he dawned questioning eyes toward them. "What's wrong Ginny?" He finally inquired as she was still hiding her face in Ron's side.

Tears welled in her eyes as she ran and desperately hugged her father with such force that it was if she was attempting to disappear from the world so that she would never have to remember what had happened and wouldn't have to feel such inner turmoil and despair because of it. He protectively hugged her back. "What is going on?" He queried further, finally adopting a serious tone.

"She got—beat up and—well; they roughed her up real bad." Harry answered in a depressed manner as he knew she would never be able to get her innocence back no matter what and he wondered if she would ever be able to return to her previously bright demeanor.

"Yeah, and it was all thanks to Malfoy and his big fat Death Eater mouth who snitched to his fellow Death Eaters and his Daddy so that they could plan a nice little trap for us." Ron venomously added, biting the first syllable of 'Malfoy' and 'Death' and 'Daddy' attempting to strike the fact home to Harry that Draco was a betraying, back-stabbing, good-for-nothing, piece of low-life trash that should die a most horrible death, or rather that he should be tortured and sent to Azkaban to suffer for the rest of his life.

"Is this true Harry?" Mr. Weasely harshly inquired as he tightly grabbed Harry's arm forcing their eyes to meet in the attempt to get a straight answer out of the young boy who had been acting rather strangely over the summer. Harry was momentarily surprised by such force and only mostly recovered when he responded.

"You're hurting me." Harry winced but Mr. Weasely showed no signs of letting go before he got a clear answer from him. "No, I don't believe that is true." Ron was on the verge of saying something that he may regret later so Harry stopped him. "Ron. Something wasn't right back there. Please, just trust—"

"No Harry. I won't. I'm tired of blindly trusting you. Just look at how trusting you keeps ending." Ron looked him straight in the face and spoke with such finality that it shook Harry to his very core. "Let's go home Dad. Now." Apparently Harry's attempt was unsuccessful; assuming Ron would, in fact, not regret saying this later.

There was no argument over the issue, the five of them promptly made their way back to the Burrow. The silence was impenetrable; nobody dared speak, let alone look at one another. The void of noise was pierced only by Ginny's occasional stifled sniff or whimper. Harry couldn't stop thinking about what the Death Eater had said. That doesn't make any sense! Draco isn't a death Eater, that's what he told me . . . he wouldn't lie to me . . . His thoughts were on par to that of a skeptic. Anyways, why would they refer to him as Draco? I suppose so as not to get him confused with Malfoy senior. But that means that they were really trying to get me to know—think that it was Draco who had informed them. Still—Harry froze as he replayed the Death Eater's eerie, unexplainable death once more and he finally felt the full force of realization of what he had done which rushed through him and rendered his mind numb. How could I do that . . . I didn't even say anything, I didn't mean to—I didn't—I—

Harry's digressing thoughts were abruptly interrupted as a screech from the Ministry of Magic company car signified that they had arrived at the Burrow and that it was in fact time for them to disembark the vehicle which they did in quiet and concise movements and very somberly. Harry walked the quickest as he wanted nothing more than to lock himself away to pick over every detail of the words the Death Eater and he had exchange and to examine every facet of the past few weeks since he had found Draco in the park. As it would appear, he was going to do this alone as his friends were hell bent on blaming Draco and wouldn't put up with a single word placed in his defense. Such trusting friends. He snidely remarked to himself and allowing himself to sport an inner smirk. None of the others noticed is rush as they were all deeply consumed in thoughts of the day's events, each trying to get their bearings. He luckily bypassed Mrs. Weasely and was able to find the desired solitude in Ron's room, only to be disturbed by the ghost whose noise paled in comparison to his screaming thoughts.

"Nothing makes sense anymore!" Harry exclaimed in frustration, his flaring temper inadvertently blowing a pillow into a feathery pile of fluff. He frowned at his lack of self-control. "Hermione's not acting like herself. Then again it must have looked like I wasn't acting very much like me when Draco was here. Still, why does she doubt—well, Draco never did tell them." He paced furiously back and forth the cramped room. "And I suppose if I told them now they would just think I was just saying it to make him innocent or—ha! That's why that Death Eater said that all he would have to do is tell me that he was on my side . . . so that they wouldn't believe me if I told them now . . . which means that they know Draco told me . . ." This gave Harry a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach as this conclusion implied that they had been in contact with Draco. "But Draco can't be the only way for them to have known how and when to find me . . . yeah, they could have been watching Diagon Alley all summer . . . "This sounded rather a lot like a too hopeful stretch. He gave up the futile search for a plausible answer and flopped down onto his temporary bed and buried his head in the feathery fluff pile. His eyes fluttered shut, the day's events had drained him and all he could think about now was sleep. His eyes cemented shut and he breathed slowly, surrendering to the calls of sleep when the door to the room slammed open startling Harry right off of the bed.

"What?" Harry asked groggily as he wiped stray fluff off of his face and struggled to stand up. Mrs. Weasely had been the source of the ruckus as she bustled into the room. Immediately Harry could tell that she was about to get very emotional and he braced himself for whatever she was going to do by tensing up.

"Oh, dearie! Are you all right?!" the over-protective mother of seven tackle-hugged him and held onto him for dear life." Ron told me what happened! So dangerous!" She wept uncontrollably onto Harry's stiff shoulders. Even after so many years he was uncomfortable with such close physical contact, well with most physical contact.

He wanted so badly to scream: "I told you so." But knew it wouldn't be helpful to the situation at hand so he just waited for the moment to be over so that he could once again breathe normally. Mrs. Weasely finally released him of her death grip and stared at him through blurry eyes. "Oh, ma'boy. You, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny are not to leave the burrow for any reason until school starts. Do you hear me?" She brandished her pointer finger threateningly at him until his nodded in agreement. She gave him a brief hug and kissed his check. "Thank you for saving Ginny, again." She gave him a weak smile before she bustled right out of the room, probably to go and cook dinner.

Ron had quietly entered behind his mother and had been leaning out of Harry's sight against the door frame so when his mother finally left Harry was able to see him. He just stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. It seemed as if the day had taken an immense toll on him and he looked as if he had aged years, his face was stern and his eyes were dark. Then he spoke, avoiding eye contact all the while, "Don't worry. I didn't tell her everything." That was all that needed to be said and they both retired to bed after the heavy words that even dashed any thought of eating dinner. The ghost also recognized the grave situation and made not a single peep through the night.

Mrs. Weasely had indeed gone back to the kitchen but not to cook. She sat down solemnly across from her husband, giving him a stern look. "Arthur, how could you have let Ginny out of your sight? What were you thinking?" The strained atmosphere was thick with tension.

Mr. Weasely became sheepish under the scrutiny of her unforgiving expression. "Well, I don't know. I turned my head and the next thing I know she was gone. I looked all around me but there wasn't a clue to where she had disappeared to. And anyways, I thought there was nothing to worry about."

"Why did we ever think that?" She exclaimed in exasperation. "Of course, Albus said it was alright. What was that old coot thinking when he deduced that?" She and her husband each gave a hefty sigh and they delved into a superficial conversation with the question waiting on the back-burners of their minds.

"I didn't know Potter would react like that, let alone do that. How int'resting." A silky voice projected from the cold darkness that was the haven of night. "We'll just have to readjust the plan a little," There was a smirk present in the voice as it spoke "won't we my puppet." Somewhere behind the master came a pathetic whimper from the puppet in protest of whatever the silky voice was implying that they would do. The first voice let out an elegant and dominating laughter at the puppet's moan of objection.
Harry slept restlessly, waking every so often only thinking about how badly he wanted to get back to Hogwarts were he could resume a semi-normal existence. There he would at least finally be able to see Draco, hopefully, and maybe even talk to Dumbledore, that is if he isn't acting strangely anymore. But what if Draco doesn't come back to school? Harry didn't want to entertain such a thought or its implications and instead switched things up and thought about how he was going to deal with his friends. More importantly, how he was going to stop Ron from bludgeoning Draco to death. He wanted nothing more than for Ron and Hermione to know the truth so that they could all get along. Damn, not even a Hufflepuff would believe that could happen. He laughed silently to himself at his over exaggerated statement wishing that he could share his laughter with his friends. Around four in the morning Harry was able to fall asleep uninterrupted by his thoughts, or his hopes and fears of what was to come.

When Harry awoke three hours later, he felt oddly refreshed and with a feeling of anticipation that told him the day was going to be a good one, relatively speaking of course considering how Ginny would probably be feeling. He cheerily got dressed and greeted Ron a good morning with less enthusiasm than he was feeling but with enough feeling to tell Ron that he wanted to put everything in the past. Ron was slightly perturbed by Harry's sudden and mysterious mood adjustment that seemed maladjusted for the situation. His lack of reply didn't halt Harry's progress out of the door. For once in a really long time he actually had the desire to eat and so he gave an even bigger inner smile at the thought of what Mrs. Weasely had cook for breakfast. He felt that perhaps things would look better and he would be able to patch things up as best he could with Ron and Hermione without telling them about Draco's secret and that they could go back to the way things had always been. They would understand, eventually, they always came around.

Harry, upon taking the previous day into account, sobered up at least a little because he realized that it would be disturbing if he were to smile at the breakfast table after such an experience. It was also the mystery of his happiness that dimmed his mood. Draco was gone. Ginny was—hurt and not to mention, emotionally scarred. There was still weeks until school was to start. What could he be happy about? He lightly thought over such a mind boggling question. His string of thoughts ended with the long overdue conclusion that it was a rhetorical question and as such it didn't have a satisfying conclusive answer, let alone an answer at all; in other words it was a question for show. Upon this realization of such a pseudo-propound statement he passed Ginny's door which Hermione happened to be exiting at the same moment. She looked tired beyond hell; it looked as if she had been punched in the eyes. Her hair was frizzed to all ends and it was fairly evident that she had not slept a wink. Harry opted out of asking whether she was okay, figuring it was a stupid question.

"Um, is Ginny doing better?" Harry refused to meet her eyes unsure of what he would see in them; instead he stared intently at his fidgeting feet which prevented him from seeing the unreadable and piercing look that passed across her face that was gone before she responded. "She says that she can't remember anything. Let's hope that's true, she'll be better off that way." Having answered the question she promptly turned to descend the stairs.

Harry felt bad, but why? What was wrong with him, he hadn't done anything wrong. He didn't want her to walk away from him with the air of unspoken hostility or something of the like. "Wait?" He called out after her. "How—how are you doing? Yesterday was really—I—" Something reminiscent of hope flittered across her face but was just as quickly replaced with a stoic look as she continued her descent.

His call brought Hermione to pause in her step where she stared at her hand that was holding onto the railing. "I meant every word I said Harry." She sadly responded to Harry's incoherent jabbering before he could say something naïve or stupid. "Maybe next time—" She purposely left her sentence hanging in the air unfinished just before she was out of Harry's hearing distance so that maybe he would stop and think about what he'd done.

Harry was put off by her preemptive statement and by her unfinished sentence that was so vague! Next time?Of what? What'll happen next time that could be different? What did I do wrong? Contemplating such unanswerable questions was pointless and Harry was finally getting the last pieces of the puzzle to figuring that out. He soon after commenced his descent once more, as well, to the kitchen, void of any brain numbing thoughts. Breakfast was an uneventful occurrence and the atmosphere seemed on the verge of imploding from all of the pent up nerves that were contributed by everyone but Harry. Not a word was spoken for the entirety of the affair for there was nothing to complain about and there was nobody to readily blame. That is no one they could blame that wouldn't cause a complete melt down because everyone knew Harry supported the idea of Draco's innocence and this was not the time to be creating any more internal problems. They all knew that if they got in a huge row over whether it was Draco who had betrayed them or not then Harry may do something drastic and if he didn't do it over the summer he would definitely do something stupid during school and Hermione and Ron wouldn't be able to stop him if they weren't on speaking terms. Ron ate his food viciously; stabbing each piece with much more force than was appropriately necessary and his mother didn't even eat at all.

The silence continued even when everyone got up and left the table. Harry expected for Hermione to drag them all into a room and suggest, well demand, that they talk about what had happened yesterday to try and get to the bottom of what was really going on. Like why they were waiting and how they knew when to wait for him, why he didn't think that Draco was their informer, and what had happened with Harry's wand. He smiled inwardly at the familiar nostalgic feeling that flooded his mind, remembering all the times Hermione helped him or forced him to do his own homework, all the time she had helped him figure things out since the beginning like when she solved the potions riddle on the way to the sorcerer's stone. This reminded him of how Ron had been the Knight and had risked death so that he and Hermione could make it across the chess board unscathed. They were always there for him when he was in a jam and usually when it was something like a life or death situation. Caught up in his longing thoughts of recapturing those feelings he let a grin slip onto his face which earned him a disgusted look from Hermione accompanied by a scoff which drew him back to reality. "So—" Harry began to inquire but he wasn't given the chance to finish when Hermione brushed past him and ascended the stairs at an amazingly fast pace, closely followed by Ron who didn't even give harry any acknowledgement of having seen him.

"Okay, yeah, I'll just go outside and meet up with you guys later." Harry noted that his friends had just basically blew him off and had overall ignored him and then stored it away in the farthest metaphorical filing cabinet in the back of his mind so that it could later manifest itself into a dark mass, waiting until it reaches critical mass so that it can explode and cause some sort of mental stroke. He walked, alone, to the garden and flopped onto the ground to gaze at the cloud formations high above him. He breathed in the fresh late summer air peacefully. It's amazing how he hadn't stopped to critically think about what he'd done; he had killed. But the simple conclusions is that he was repressing such a thought, although one day he was to kill Voldemort, he still hadn't faced the part about killing someone or in Voldemort's case more of a something. Harry had felt such a strong desire to put things in order just the night before so it was odd that he was so calm and free of thought.

Every day after was exactly the same: Harry got up, said good-morning to Ron, descended the stairs, inquired as to how Ginny was doing, how Hermione herself was doing even thought she had begun to refuse to answer him, ate breakfast in silence, went out to lie in the garden to stare at the clouds or occasionally do some de-gnoming, ate lunch, went back to the garden or to polish and or fly his firebolt, alone, ending the day with dinner and the long and lonely ascent to bed. Leaving all his unattended thoughts to fester in the darkness, each day noting his friend ignorance of him other than the occasional look that had a variety of meanings at different times, none of which Harry bothered to consider as he had become rather distanced. And each day it diminished his inner smile fractionally. With the paradoxical feeling that the closer the first day of school got the further away if felt, drawing away Harry's hope and any shred of care. He had almost resigned himself to sleep the remaining days away when he finally heard those destined words delivered by Mr. Weasely:

"Time to go. The train won't wait for you if you're late."

And off they went to Platform 9 and ¾, in a highly secure Ministry of Magic car. Even Ginny went which was surprising as she had isolated herself in her room to deal with her experience that she claimed she had no memory of. Though in the last few days she had managed to come out of her room to eat dinner but when she did she always looked at the ground and never said more than two words to anyone. The first time she came out it was when Harry was passing her door to breakfast and asking Hermione the usual, how Ginny was doing, when she came out and said a quick thank you before darting back into her room. Like the last few weeks in the Burrow, the car ride was completely silent as was their trip through the wall. Ron and Hermione quickly boarded the train muttering something about pressing prefect duties that they needed to do to Harry and Ginny was rather skittish and stayed close to Ron leaving Harry alone, again.

He had been waiting to return to school all summer but he felt so uninterested and almost depressed. He had hoped he would see Draco but it seemed that perhaps Ron and Hermione had been right in assuming Malfoy had betrayed him. Harry sighed and boarded at the very end of the train and entered the farthest empty compartment in the back. As he shoved his luggage above the seats he saw a billowing cloak out of the corner of his eye before he heard the compartment door swiftly click shut and Harry's heart stopped dead in its tracks.

"Hey Harry."

I'm not paralyzed but I seem to be struck by you

I wanna make you move because you're standin' still

If your body matches what your eyes can do

You'd probably move right through me on my way to you.

-Paralyzer by Finger Eleven

This song was runnin' through my head while I was typing the chapter so yeah . . .

HA HAHA a cliffy . . . kind of . . . . .

Yay I updated!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It's meh longest chapter so far XD XDXD

Remember I loves it when you all review XD