Chapter Eleven
"Leave it, Hermione, you're wrong."
The sky was growing light outside as Harry trudged downstairs. He'd spent the last few hours either in the bathroom or pacing the upstairs hallways, content to be anywhere but back in the bedroom with Malfoy.
Once he started hearing noises from below, he'd slowly wandered down to see how the others were faring. Hermione was lingering over some fallen shelves as Ron continued to frown at her. "Even if she did do something with it, she broke it, right? That's what we were going to do. Where's the harm in it."
"I don't know," Hermione admitted, gazing down at the splintered wood with a distant look in her eyes. Even from where he stood on the lowest landing, Harry could see that she was having a difficult time sorting her thoughts out.
"Morning, Harry," Ron said, motioning his friend the rest of the way down and moving over on the sofa so he would have a place to sit. "The locket is gone."
Harry nodded. He'd assumed as much the night before, but had Tonks really taken it? "We weren't sure how to break it anyway," Harry offered lamely. He wasn't sure what words would be of much help right now, but he was fairly certain he didn't have them.
"That's what I said." Ron, obviously, didn't get this sort of vindication often. "Things got pretty weird last night though, didn't they? "
"Is Malfoy all right?" Hermione asked before Harry could voice his response. She faced the boys, pulling her attention away from the ruined furniture.
Draco was the last person he wanted to think about at the moment, so Harry simply shrugged. "Fine," he said quickly, choosing not to elaborate. "So, any idea where to head next?"
"Kind of," Hermione admitted. Like Harry, she seemed to be trying to avoid any overtly direct answer. "Of course, I'm not sure what we'll do if someone's already gotten there too. This is all very troubling."
"Well, there's no harm in putting any more travel off for a bit," Harry said wearily. He had some things he wanted to work through himself. "How long do you think it'll take?"
"Just give me today. I'll figure it out." Obviously haunted by something, Hermione headed for the stairs. All of this only made Harry uncomfortable. As a general rule, he liked to know what was going on, and the suspicion that his friends might be keeping something from him was rather unnerving.
"I don't understand her at all."
Ron's words made Harry smirk. Well, perhaps he wasn't the only one out of the proverbial loop. "Maybe you should go talk to her?" The suggestion seemed an obvious one. While he wasn't sure that Hermione would be particularly appreciative of Ron's company, it seemed like a nice effort.
It was rather obvious that Ron thought little of the idea himself. "I think I'll pass, thanks. You can go after her if you want."
Harry frowned, standing and heading for the downstairs kitchens. "I think you're sort of missing the point," he said, aware that Ron had stood as well and was following him.
"What do you mean?" Ron leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Harry as he went through the cupboards.
He couldn't possibly be that oblivious. "Nevermind." Ron's attitude towards Hermione made him wonder if she was aware of her feelings for him. Surely, she was. Of course, if Ron could be so ignorant, perhaps…
Harry quickly dismissed any thought of Draco from his mind. Last night he had had a dream and nothing more. He'd certainly had stranger ones before. Harry knew that this had been different somehow, but simply wouldn't allow that sort of thinking.
It was several hours before he even ventured back upstairs. Somehow, he doubted Malfoy was still asleep, and something told him it probably wouldn't be right to simply assume everything was all right.
Predictably, the bedroom was still dark. Harry crossed the room and drew back the curtains, allowing muted sunlight to filter in through the still frosted windows. The bed was empty, the sheets drawn back and the pillows lying there haphazardly. Despite having given Draco his wand back the night before, Harry couldn't bring himself to be terribly worried this time. "Malfoy?" he called, heading back for the hallway.
"In here."
Before reaching the doorway, Harry paused and headed back. Of course, no sooner had he opened the door on the other side of the room did he regret his actions. He wasn't entirely sure of what words escaped his lips. He wasn't even sure they were words, rather a string of unidentifiable syllables.
"-and that's twice, now!" were the last few words Harry caught as he backed out of the room. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Malfoy pulling on his shirt. Something seemed a little different, he just couldn't quite determine what. "Sometimes I wonder about you, Potter. When someone's in the bathroom, do you normally let yourself in?"
"No, I mean… I didn't remember this was a bathroom… Sorry – wait, no I'm not. You should have locked the door!" Harry headed into the bathroom himself, still averting his eyes. It was on par with the one he had seen at the Malfoy Manor. Now that he thought about it, a bath didn't sound all that bad either.
"I think the lock is broken. What is this place again? I don't have to see it to know it's a dump."
Harry simply tried to ignore him, though he was right. Compared to Malfoy's home, Grammauld place really was the more unfavorable of the two. He was a little annoyed, yet not terribly surprised, to find that the lock really was broken.
Luckily, the bath seemed exceptionally clean. In fact, it was in such contrast from the rest of the room that Harry suspected Malfoy had already put his wand to good use. By the time he'd run the water, he'd already managed to tidy up his clothes with a few choice spells of his own. As he lowered himself into the steaming water, he finally considered all that had happened the night before.
If the magic they experienced had indeed been the breaking of the Horcrux, how could they hope to handle the others on their own? Though the conditions of her departure seemed suspicious, Harry hoped Tonks was all right as well.
When he had destroyed the diary, nothing like this had happened. Then again, the Horcrux had already manifested itself physically and unleashed a giant, serpentine terror on the school. Perhaps they only had so much excess power. If it wasn't already spent before the Horcrux was destroyed, well, it had to go somewhere.
Harry was so deep in thought, he almost didn't notice it when the bathroom door opened. Scrambling to cover himself up, Harry was a little frustrated to find the intruder was Draco. "Hypocrite," he said under his breath, yet loud enough for Malfoy to hear. "Don't tell me you didn't know I was in here either." As he spoke, Harry noticed that Draco had his back to him, which struck Harry as odd, considering he couldn't see him anyway.
"Trust me, I knew you were in here," Malfoy said, making sure an over-exaggerated shudder was obvious. "I just forgot something. It's not like I'm going to see anything I shouldn't anyway."
"What did you – oh." Harry spotted something thin and white lying on the floor nearby. Assuming the coin Draco possessed didn't show that much detail, Harry moved to the other side of the bath and grabbed the bandage from the floor himself. "Got it, but you don't have to keep wearing this, you know. I'm sure Ron and Hermione wouldn't say anything." Well, Hermione wouldn't. He wasn't entirely sure he could vouch for Ron.
"I haven't exactly been able to get a good look in the mirror. If it's all the same to you, I'll keep it on," Draco said, his back still to Harry.
"Well." Harry remembered his dream. He remembered seeing the scars heal, and Draco's pale gray eyes adjusting to sight again. Somehow, he doubted that was likely to happen. Still, he couldn't help but be a little curious. "Let me see. I'll tell you how it looks."
Harry noticed how Malfoy hesitated. It was to be expected, and Harry was surprised to find that this was all the coaxing he apparently needed. Indeed, it was nothing like his dream. Harry made a point to stay quiet as Draco faced him. It was still somewhat startling.
Though the wound had healed well since the last time he had seen it, the scaring was obvious. He felt another pang of guilt as he was suddenly reminded that this was entirely his fault. "I'm sorry," he breathed before he could stop himself. Judging by the expression he received, Malfoy didn't take those words well.
"I didn't mean it like that!" Harry sputtered quickly, realizing how terrible that must have sounded.
"Forget it, Potter. I know." Malfoy took a couple of steps forward and reached out his hand for the bandage a little uncertainly. "It's not like this is your fault."
Even in the warm water, Harry felt a sudden chill. That had been, perhaps, the first unsolicited, kind thing Malfoy had said to him, and it was entirely untrue. He had already gotten the impression that Draco didn't know who it was who had nearly killed him, but hearing it aloud was difficult to process.
He did, however, have enough presence of mind to hand Draco the bandage. "It's not all that bad. It healed faster than I thought it would. Maybe it'll fade faster too." He didn't know how true that was, but he was eager to change the subject even in the slightest bit.
When Draco only tied the bandages back into place, Harry couldn't help but be relieved. "You can go downstairs if you want. The kitchen's in the basement. You could make it with that coin right?"
Malfoy made no move for the door. "I could," he agreed, obviously not fond of being alone with Harry's friends. That didn't bother Harry. The fact that he was still in the room with him, blind or not, did. Before he could address this, Draco took a seat on one of the benches lining the wall. "So what happened last night?"
Harry felt his face grow very warm. "Ah, last night?" Possible responses flew through his mind, all traveling much to fast to be either useful or a coherent explanation. "I don't know… I was just having a dream - more of a nightmare, really and-"
"Woah, Potter, no! Not that," Malfoy said quickly. Harry wasn't sure whether to be relieved or terribly embarrassed. "Before that. Keep your dreams to yourself."
"Right." Harry's poor, confused emotions seemed to opt for embarrassment at this point. "Well, the best we can come up with is that Tonks broke the Horcrux herself, then left."
"Did she say anything? Leave a note?"
"Not as far as I can tell." Harry decided that Malfoy wasn't going to leave any time soon and tried his best to go about business as if he were alone. "So how did you know something was at the door?" he asked before Draco could say anything about Tonks he might not want to hear.
Malfoy only snorted and leaned back against the wall. "I'm shocked you didn't, Potter. It was loud and didn't sound particularly friendly." He hesitated, fishing into his pocket with two fingers and pulling out the coin. He flipped it thoughtfully several times before continuing, "Well, I suppose this helped too. Magic sort of effects the way the air travels and-" He shrugged. "I don't know. You went to Muggle schools, didn't you? You should know how all that nonsense about vibrations and sound works."
More amused than annoyed, Harry smiled. "Just because you don't know how it works doesn't make it 'nonsense'. You said it helped, didn't you?"
"I did," Malfoy agreed. "But if you found a spell or potion that just gave me my sight back, that would be nice too."
The residual waves of guilt were still hindering Harry from being too short with Draco. "I'll keep looking," he promised.
"Maybe you're not so bad, Potter," Draco said after another pause.
Harry hadn't quite been prepared for that either. "That's… wait, what?"
"You're not so bad," he repeated. "If we were both standing on a ledge, I probably wouldn't push you off… probably."
Unsure of how to take those words, Harry searched for an easier synonym. "So… what? We're friends now? You like me?"
"I didn't say that," Malfoy corrected Harry quickly. "And like is, perhaps, too strong of a word. What I said was, that I probably wouldn't wish for your death."
"That's…" Harry worked the words over in his head, trying to decide if it was the worst compliment he had ever received or simply the best insult. "Well, I don't know what that is but, thanks – I think. I wouldn't wish you dead either."
"Probably," Malfoy corrected, to which Harry smiled this time.
"Probably."
The library was considerably draftier than the bedroom. Harry was beginning to wish he had dried his hair a little more thoroughly. With a sigh, he closed another book and set it aside.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, seemingly content browsing the pages of a very dusty tome in the corner of the room.
"I can't find anything." Harry had already explained to Hermione what he was searching for. She hadn't seemed particularly enthusiastic. Almost all of the books here pertained to the dark arts.
"You've been looking for all of, maybe, three hours, Harry." Hermione closed the tome and wrinkled her nose as a cloud of dust nearly enveloped her. "These things take time – months, years even."
Harry knew she was right, but he really didn't have that sort of patience at the moment. "There's still the chance I could get lucky."
"True," Hermione agreed, pulling her legs into the chair before opening the thickly-bound book in her lap again.
"Would you at least tell me if you found something?" Harry asked, reaching lazily for another book and looking to a grimy window behind the armchair across from him. It was a blurry mix of white and a disgusting brown, making any attempt to see what was going on outside fruitless.
It took Hermione a little too long to answer him. "Yes," she said at last, though Harry got the impression that several conditions applied to this 'Yes' of hers. Before he could question the nature of these conditions, a crash downstairs made them both jump. Muffled shouting began to float upstairs. As best Harry could tell, the portrait of Sirius' mother had woken up and directed her anger at Ron, who had apparently taken great offense.
Hermione groaned. "The curtain probably fell down," she said, standing and heading for the door. "It was looking pretty unsteady this morning, after the Horcrux was released and all."
Harry watched her go and was about to get up to follow her when he spotted the chair Hermione had been seated in. Her bag was tucked beneath it, the top open just enough for Harry to make out the books she had taken from Lupin's camp.
With a glance to the door to make sure she was indeed heading downstairs, Harry hurried to tug the bag from its hiding place. He positioned himself between the table he had been sitting at and the chair. This way, should Hermione come back prematurely, it would take her a moment to spot Harry kneeling on the floor. Of course, the kneeling on the floor bit might look suspicious when he stood, but Harry wasn't terribly concerned. Surely, she wouldn't mind his looking through her books.
He removed a book he recognized vaguely first. The binding flaked slightly as he pulled it open to a paper marker. Several strips of parchment were sticking up from the pages, where Hermione had likely flagged something of interest. In this volume, these "pages of interest" seemed to pertain to Horcruxes.
Harry scanned the pages and frowned. No, not only Horcruxes, other spells pertaining to the soul. It seemed the soul was useful in a great many spells, from dramatic healing, to binding spells of a malicious nature.
He set the book aside. While interesting and something he might come back to later, it wasn't what he was looking for. Harry shuffled through the bag, spotting only one other marked book. He removed it and flipped it open. As soon as he realized what the marked potion recipe was designed for, he took a seat, intending to read it through more thoroughly.
"There, I got the- Harry?" Hermione rounded the table and stopped a few feet from her friend. Normally, she might have been angry with him for going through her things. Instead she stood there, waiting for Harry to make the first move.
Harry didn't look up at first. He scanned the page several times, trying to process the gist of it before addressing Hermione. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because, obviously, it isn't an option," Hermione said quickly, reaching down for the book. She obviously thought herself finished with this conversation, but Harry only moved away.
Placing his hand flat against the page, he carefully ripped it out. The page released itself easily from the binding and was slipped from the book before Harry stood. "We'll see," he said, folding the page and tucking it into his pocket.
A pained expression crossed Hermione's face, though Harry couldn't tell if it was due to his damaging the book or his frustration with her. "We both know you couldn't. You can't think that – Harry!"
If she said anything else, Harry didn't hear it. He was already halfway down the stairs. The yelling had stopped and Harry intended to retreat to a bedroom and have a look at the spell he had torn from the book without interruption. Ron got to him first.
"Oi, Harry, look at this!" His friend jogged up the stairs, something small and noisy trailing after him.
"Is that Pig?" Harry asked, quite surprised to see the tiny owl away from the safety of its cage.
Ron nodded and held out a small piece of parchment, the size of a post-it note, for Harry to take. "It's from Lupin."
"Lupin sent Pig?" Harry looked doubtfully to the creature flying excitedly about his master's head. "That was… ambitious of him." He opened the miniature parchment and read it over quickly.
Harry, I hope this finds you and the others well. Give this to Hermione. –Lupin
The note was far too vague to lift Harry's spirits much, and he didn't particularly feel like taking it to Hermione himself. Instead, he handed the note back to Ron, who was busy trying to catch and restrain Pigwidgeon. "Do what it says, will you?"
"Come back here you ruddy- huh? Why can't you?" Ron gave up on Pig just long enough for the bird to zoom downstairs to explore.
"I have… other things to do. Is Malfoy still downstairs?" Harry slipped his hand into the pocket with the torn-out book page, eager to get some privacy if he could manage it.
"Yes," Ron said, his face falling along with his good mood. "He and Sirius' mum are having a pleasant little conversation. 'Mione still upstairs?"
"Most likely," Harry said shortly, moving into the bedroom and shutting the door without another word. The note from Lupin had just been more information he wasn't meant to know. Even if they all meant well, he didn't appreciate having information kept from him or being lied to.
Taking the paper he'd ripped from Hermione's book in hand, he mused over its contents. They had all used forbidden magic before. Obviously, this was a bit more extreme, but if it brought back Malfoy's sight…
The room became gradually darker, and yet Harry had reached no real conclusion. Part of the page was badly faded and unreadable. There was enough there for Harry to grasp the idea, but the details were sketchy. Eventually, he was forced to light the tip of his wand. By then he had read the page over several times, and reading it yet again would do little good. His eyes were already heavy from being awake for so very long.
The door creaked open and Draco entered, making no effort to keep quiet even as he spoke, "Are you awake?"
"Yeah. You're going to bed already?" Harry watched as Malfoy made his way to the bed, looking a little uncomfortable about the process, even with the help of the coin.
"I guess." Malfoy took a seat on the edge of the bed, kicking off his shoes. "And I claimed this bedroom last night you know. You can find a different bed."
"And yet this is my house." Even as Draco lay down, Harry didn't concede. Of course, he knew at this rate they would both be spending the night together again. For some reason the idea didn't bother him in the least.
Malfoy didn't seem quite as enthused. "Whatever," he groaned, putting his back to Harry and pulling the covers up over his shoulders.
Harry folded up the paper once more and slid it back into his pocket. It was unethical, but probably doable. Hermione wouldn't agree with him, but her opinion mattered little to Harry at the moment. He didn't need her help in this. He didn't even have to tell her he was going. She obviously wasn't telling him everything.
Then again, it could be dangerous. If he was caught, there was no telling what sort of trouble he would be in. He wasn't even entirely sure he could actually go through with the task the page presented him with.
Heaving a sigh, Harry laid back and stared up at the ceiling. He heard doors open and shut in the hallway. Maybe Ron and Hermione were going to bed as well. If they were still leaving tomorrow, it would likely be rather early. He was sure Lupin had already divulged the location in his note to Hermione, who might very well have already shared the information with Ron. Again, he would be the last to know.
Harry nearly jumped as a hand fell across his chest. Malfoy situated himself a little closer in his sleep, apparently set on dominating the bed tonight. Before realizing what he was doing, he rested his hand over Draco's. Maybe he wasn't the only one being shielded from the truth, he thought watching the rise and fall of the other boy's chest.
Malfoy didn't know where they were being led next either. He didn't know what was taking place around him half the time. He didn't even know that Harry had been the one to blind him.
Harry felt a familiar pang of guilt and closed his hand around Draco's, effectively stirring him from sleep. "Hmm, what?" he groaned drowsily, obviously not yet conscious enough to berate Harry for holding his hand.
"If I could get you your sight back… would you want me to?" Harry asked, hoping he could get an honest answer while Malfoy was barely awake. "No matter what?"
"No matter what," Malfoy agreed, nodding only slightly but noticeably enough for Harry to get the idea. Before he could lose his nerve, Harry stood. Quickly he pulled on his trainers and reached hastily for his coat and Invisibility Cloak.
All the commotion succeeded in waking Draco completely. He sat up and reached around the nightstand, where he had likely left the coin Tonks had given him. "Potter? What are you doing?"
"Go back to sleep. This shouldn't take too long." Harry grabbed his wand and turned back to Malfoy once he had reached the door.
"Where are you going?" There was a certain level of concern in his voice.
"Out, all right? I'll be back before morning." Harry realized, even as he spoke, that he was doing to Malfoy what everyone else was doing to him.
Draco didn't seem at all appreciative of this. He frowned and lay back again, moving angrily onto his side so that his back was to Harry again. "Fine."
Harry flirted with the urge to apologize, but only for a moment. If he was going tonight, he would have to leave soon. He hurried from the room and down the hallway, waiting until he was downstairs and in darkness before Apparating.
The world constricted around Harry before dropping him out unceremoniously in the snow. He dropped to his knees, throwing his cloak over himself. If he remembered correctly, the path he had taken with Draco was just up ahead. First, however, he needed to make sure no one from the Ministry was present.
Moisture collected under his legs, where the snow was beginning to melt. Forward progress was slow, but he had yet to see anyone from the Ministry and for that he was thankful. He was beginning to consider the best spell for knocking out anyone he might find up ahead when a loud crack off to his right gave him a start.
The noise was too loud to be just an animal. Surely, no one knew he was here already. He crept onward anyway, though he was a bit more wary about the going. It was difficult to silence the snow as it compacted and crunched beneath his weight. No, he wasn't being quite as stealth-like as he would have hoped, but he had yet to see anyone around. Perhaps he really was completely alone out here.
That notion was dismissed almost simultaneously as the graveyard came into view. A tall, broad shouldered man was standing on a tomb and craning his neck. Harry realized he was trying to see the source of the sound from earlier.
Harry reached for his wand, thankful for the distraction if nothing else. He tried not to think of what this might mean should someone else aside from the Ministry be here. Instead, he moved a little closer and began to sort through his arsenal of spells mentally.
Opting for something simple, Harry aimed carefully and was forming his lips silently around the first syllable when another crash sounded. This was followed by a scream, effectively causing Harry to lose his concentration. The man in the graveyard hopped off his macabre perch and took off running in the direction of the noise.
Harry wasn't sure whether to be thankful that the stranger was already taken care of or go and investigate this noise for himself. He had no way of knowing how long it would distract the man, but the scream that followed sounded promising. Now he only had to worry about who these mystery attackers were.
Surely, Death Eaters didn't know he was here. Had someone known he was coming? It was either that or a question of extreme coincidence.
"Harry?" A smaller figure entered the graveyard; their form much slighter and potentially younger than anyone he might expect to see posted as a guard.
Harry dropped his cloak from around his shoulders and stood, hurrying forward without further hesitation. "Hermione, what are you doing here?"
"I knew you would come." She still didn't look particularly pleased, but Harry was glad to see her anyway. "There were just two men here, I already checked. Neither of them was much of a threat. They were there." She pointed to a small, snow and foliage colored tent Harry hadn't noticed before.
"And you took care of them already?" Harry was impressed. "How?"
"Just a few things from the Burrow." Hermione removed a small bag from under her coat. "Either they're defective or Fred and George are getting more malicious in their designs."
"You didn't-"
"Oh, no!" Hermione said quickly, walking into the woods once more. "They're just unconscious. I didn't think I should use magic here, just in case they can trace it later. Are you sure you won't change your mind, Harry? We can still go back."
It was a last ditch effort, and Harry was sure she really didn't believe he would take it. "If we leave now, I won't get another chance. They'll have twice as many people guarding the area."
"Well, you can't say I didn't warn you." Hermione rounded the fence, stepping between the graves as she carried a shovel back to him. "I'm not going to try to stop you, but you can't use magic… and I'm not helping. This is disgusting."
Harry looked at the shovel and frowned, not entirely sure he would have enough time anymore. "I didn't say it wasn't. I just-I have to do something and no healing spell will work."
"So you're going to resort to using the Dark Arts?" Hermione asked, taking a seat on a stone bench across from Harry. "You don't even know if it will work. We could be making this worse."
"Well, he's already blind," Harry reminded her, making his first strike into the frozen ground. It gave way easier than he thought it would. Obviously, this wasn't a Muggle shovel. Earth and snow alike seemed soft and almost weightless as he continued to dig. "What worse can we do?"
Hermione still didn't look comfortable with any of this. "Well," she began quietly. "We'll see, won't we?"
Even if the ground was easy to distribute elsewhere, the minutes became hours and the hours were agonizingly slow. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep the dexterity in his fingers and several short breaks did little to revitalize him.
Eventually, Hermione stood and left his range of vision. When she came back it was with a shovel of her own. "You won't get finished in time at this rate," she said before he could thank her. "We still have to leave for the Shrieking Shack in the morning. We're meeting Lupin."
With Hermione's aide, the work went much faster. Harry eventually had to climb down into the hole to keep digging, while Hermione busied herself with making it wide enough to have a bit more standing room.
Finally, Harry's shovel scraped against something hard. Above him, he saw Hermione tense. "We're almost finished," he said, kneeling down and wiping dirt from the lid of a surprisingly plain wooden box. With the space Hermione had cleared to his left, it didn't take much more digging to expose the lid completely.
"I can't use magic here either, huh?" Harry didn't have to look back to Hermione to know that she was shaking her head. Carefully, he maneuvered the steel end of the shovel between the lid and sides of the box. He didn't dare ask for Hermione's help with this, instead stepping on the shovel's handle. He put all of his weight and effort into lifting the lid. The wood creaked but didn't budge. Harry was beginning to think he had dug all this way for nothing when the side splintered and one side gave way.
Immediately, Harry felt his heart begin to pound. Until now, all of this had been much easier in his mind. As he worked the lid up, Harry felt his resolve shaking. He turned his back to the makeshift coffin, doing his best to steady his breathing.
The corpse of Lucius Malfoy was far too life-like for Harry to feel comfortable about any part of what he had come here to do. Sure, he had seen dead bodies before, but this felt very wrong.
"Harry, if you don't want to…"
Harry shook his head, took as deep a breath as he dared, and faced Lucius. A voice deep down told him that even if this did work, even if he did restore Draco's sight, this was only one more thing he had to hide from him. He wasn't remedying his own guilt, he was simply adding on to it. As he leaned in close, he heard Hermione back away.
"Harry, don't!" Hermione's last effort to dissuade Harry was lost to the wind as the weather began to worsen. She covered her eyes.
A/N: For this chapter, no special thanks goes to my boyfriend. As I was making the corrections my beta sent, he was busy poking, pulling, licking, biting, and generally being a nuisance. If you haven't noticed, I got this chapter out pretty quick. (for me) I can't help but feel it would have been out a little faster had he not been trying so hard to distract me. I love the guy, but… we are not amused…
Anyway, I do want to thank everyone who came back to review. It's nice to see people haven't lost interest in the fic. You can expect a lot more updates (within reason) between now and the release of the final book. I'm trying to get as much finished before the seventh book comes out and, potentially, just manages to depress me.
In other news, you might have noticed (but probably haven't unless, for some reason, you're reading back chapters.) a lot of changes recently. That's because I've re-uploaded all of the chapters featuring Clara Minute's changes on top of BlondeDragon's beta'ing. The changes probably aren't all that noticeable, but if your story alert gave you a false alarm, I apologize. Aside from that, I'm looking forward to hearing any feedback for this chapter you might have.
