Vonne: Sorry for the short chapter last time. I am going to try to make this chapter much much long and sadly, that means a lack of review responses. The one review that I did want to address, however, was the question that was along the lines of: "why is Ron credited as one of the main characters? He has only been mentioned." Please remember that this isn't over yet. I could have made this a Harry and Draco centric fiction, but my plans for the final chapter definitely include much of Ron. That being said, if you were expecting Ron throughout the entire fiction, please take note that I was given the choice of Draco and one other character. It wasn't as if I were trying to mislead you. And after 19 chapters without seeing a satisfactory mention of him, maybe this isn't the story for you...

Thank you for your question, though. Next time I'll put a little more thought into things like that.

Anyways, I'm going to publish a little one shot coming up soon. Something about Draco Malfoy and the Slytherins playing a little game of 7 Minutes in Heaven. Let me know what you think of the idea and if you'd be interested in reading it.

Chapter Twenty:
In The Forrest First

Ashby's beady little eyes resembled that of a rat's, but they sparkled excitedly like bubbling champagne. His massive arms were wrapped around the shoulders of Harry Potter, as if prepping him, and he leaned forward, scanning the outskirts of the forrest before them. "Alright," he said slowly, as if preparing the group for the one significant moment of their lives, "this is it." About them, the sky twirled, once again threatening rain and possibly a storm. Hermione Granger glanced up at it and them nodded, thinking that every single step towards the forrest was just one step towards progress. "If you can do this, you can do absolutely anything."

Ron swallowed hard and he too scanned the backyard of the center. "Don't you think," he asked Ashby, turning to him child-like, "that this is a little soon?" As if the sudden sound of his own voice scared him, he looked around as if instantly startled, "I mean, we don't even know where we are."

However Ashby's face only brightened, "exactly, son!" he said beaming, "exactly!" But when the expressions of the lot in front of him did not change, he further elaborated, "do you know where you are in your life right now? I'm sure some of you feel completely lost. This exercise will help you break through that notion of helplessness. Working together, the lot of you can put aside your differences, perhaps. Maybe the first step of moving on isn't forgiveness, but it's certainly a start towards moving forward." At the silence around him, Ashby asked with an anxious smile, "do you not agree?"

There came a chorus of, "I guess," and Ashby's broad shoulders squared.

"Now," he said again and his voice was stoney and flat, "Morty here is going to be blindfolding--"

"Blindfolding?" The outburst came from Draco Malfoy, who suddenly felt his throat run dry. He whipped around and his face had drained of color. The blond hair that he'd had usually tucked behind his ears had come loose and hung just about an inch and a half below his earlobes. His cold eyes were fearful and horrified and he looked as if he could simply bolt from the spot impulsively. "You are setting us loose out-- out there-- without any idea where we are going?"

Ashby nodded solemnly. "Of course, Mr. Malfoy," he informed the blond, "how else would I conduct the procedure?" Malfoy only gapped and this mouth shut quickly. His shoulders fell with great force and he slowly turned back to the forrest front with a sinking feeling in the pit of his chest.

He muttered, "my damn reflection was right," and Harry shot him a glance mixed with annoyance and pure curiosity.

Although Malfoy wasn't given much of a chance to shake off the weirdness he'd so apparently emitted. Once he took to returning Harry's look, there came the sudden clasp of sweaty palms at the side of Harry's skull and Mort covered the top of Harry's face with a white blindfold. At the sudden sensation of being blind, Harry retreated back and his hands flew to his covered eyes. Mort said nothing, but his own hands rose to bring Harry's back down to his side. Worriedly, before she was too blinded, Ginny interlaced her fingers through those of her boyfriend.

Hermione was next and Ron watched as if helpless next to her. Smiling trustfully under blindfold. "It's alright, Ronald." She held out her own slender hand and Ron took it as he too was covered. But when Mort advanced on Draco, the young Malfoy backed away fearfully.

"Mort," he said, glancing back towards the center, "I'm not sure I really have a good feeling about this..." However, Mort beside him looked oddly transfixed and he didn't answer back. Instead Ashby tilted his head to the side and his eyes seemed to loose all its shine. Malfoy didn't take notice to Ashby; his eyes were locked on the look stamped across Mort's face and his eyes widened. He'd seen that look before; would never forget that look. And although Draco saw the body of Mort in front of him, it was only like a shell standing there in the silent backyard. "Hey," Draco snapped, though his blunt confidence didn't seem to last long. At Mort's stone face, Malfoy's own horrified exterior seemed to make itself more and more present.

Malfoy's head snapped around. "What's wrong with him?" Under his blindfold's shield, Harry whirled around and then, curtly, Ashby's comforting hand settled on the chosen boy's slumping shoulder.

He knew exactly what to say to make Harry relax. "Mr. Malfoy, you are over reacting," he nodded, and at once Harry's shoulders slackened. "Mort is fine. You need to be worrying more about yourself, to be quite honest. Isn't that right, Mort?" Mort nodded, but his expression was as blank as a slab of lumpy clay.

And then the therapist's assistant advanced and Malfoy was blinded with the blindfold before he could protest. Ashby's thick hand found its way to Draco's shoulder and he rubbed it as if preparing him for a big game. A chill ran down the core of Malfoy's spine and he thought he could feel himself get ill. However, when he opened his mouth to tell the darkness that he'd needed to be excused, the grip around his shoulders tensed and he was being pushed along.

When he heard the swoosh of grass, he knew that he and the others had been steered to the grass. They walked for a long while, unaware of whether it was Ashby leading them, or Mort. But at the leader's silence, Draco was sure it was Mort. The butterflies in his stomach intensified, and he tried to stand up straight. There was something bubbling his his throat. He wanted desperately to call out to the others, to warn them that he was sure something, something was a miss.

But he kept his mouth shut, unable to do anything about the situation.

And after they'd walked around for a long distance, a loud pop filled the air. The group of them stood, struck, for several minutes and then Draco was the first to whip off his blindfold. Harry's arm reached up to tear his from his own face right after and as the other few followed. Though the moments that passed where only the two of them were unblinded, their eyes caught at they stared back and forth at each other almost threateningly.

There was a bit of a chill about the air and shadows seemed to consistently rush by. A cold chill scatted up the spine of Draco Malfoy. He was not, as the others seemed to very much think, oblivious to all of their staring. In fact, it had rather begun to pester him. However, he kept his mouth shut and his eyes focused on the forrest ahead of him. What a grand thing it was. He had never imagined that it would be so massive. Every inch was covered in brush and it was almost impossible to see the sky underneath all the towering trees. They hadn't been walking for too long, but Draco was already wondering how much bigger the place could get and, furthermore, he quite anxiously anticipated its end.

Draco held the blindfold that had previously covered his eyes in his wet hand. They were, in fact, stranded and, breaking the silence, Harry spoke to his friends only. He said curiously, "how do you reckon we find our way back to the center?"

Better question yet; how would Draco find his way out all together?

He strode from the pack and his absence seemed to go absolutely unnoticed. Tension built in his stomach and found its way to his thumping chest. His heart beat with an irregular rhythm, his knuckles white as he tightened his grip on the handlebar. He scanned the forrest for some clue, for someway out of the place altogether. Because there was no going back now, not when he'd gotten himself this far involved. He'd packed his bags and allowed Ashby to send him blindfolded out into the middle of nowhere. Anxiety rushed through his body as he further confirmed what he'd already decided upon. He was going to do it whether or not he succeeded or died trying. He was going to break himself out.

Ron, however, blinked. He ran a freckled hand through his mane of red hair and said with a shrug, "how long do you think we walked for, first of all?" There was a moment of silence and then Hermione shrugged.

Shaking her head slowly, she shrugged, "I don't remember."

But neither did Malfoy and, his shoulders sinking, he realized that he could only remember the first and the last couple steps. A fit chimed over him and he spun around, feeling through the trees as if they might hold some secret passage out. He heard George as if he were a distance away. The older Weasley muttered to Harry with a slightly annoyed tone of voice, "Malfoy's going crazy. You reckon someone should check him out over there?"

And possibly from their point of view, he had looked insane. Although as he stumbled through the brush, pounding on the trunks of trees, Malfoy spun around and hissed, "I'm not insane, Weasley."

George's response was as sarcastic as ever. Raising an eyebrow, George crossed his arms across his own chest. "Uh-huh."

Malfoy gritted his teeth, "You'll see."

"Alright, we'll see. You will show us, once again. Isn't that right?" Malfoy was unsure who the voice had come from, but he tried bitterly to ignore it. Whoever it was that had said it, called out once again, "Malfoy, get back over here. The last thing we need is to loose someone-- yes, even you-- out here."

Malfoy obliged, a fact that was even a shock to himself. He said to the group, "don't you see what's going on here? How can you not see it?" At once he rounded on Harry Potter, his thin finger out in a point towards the chosen boy's chest. "You especially. How can you not see it? With all the meddling you and your friends do..."

But Harry's eye twitched upwards and he looked on at the blond as if he had just completely snapped. Harry's knuckles gripped the top of his wand, though he didn't raise it, and Malfoy, noticing Harry's threatening gesture, threw his hands up in the air. He laughed that of a mental institution patient and tilted his head back. However, when his face fell back to an anterior position, he looked as if he'd been just socked in the face "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

"Malfoy, I am completely serious. You need to calm down," Harry said, stepping forward towards Malfoy, "Ashby said---"

"Ashby said? Ashby said?" Once again Draco's laugh was maniacal. Hermione's eyes found Ron's, who stood utterly confused. Ginny took a slight step towards George and Harry, who stood in front of the group, looked as if he were ready to protect whoever he may have to. When Malfoy finally stopped laughing, he crossed his arms across his chest and murmured, "you want me to calm down, is that right? Well, Potter, you're going to have to hex me."

Harry shrugged and he heard himself say, "hasn't stopped me before." However, Harry only turned around and then glanced back at Hermione, who's face was twisted absently. "Did you bring the bags?" He asked her, and Hermione managed to nod.

"Bags?" Ron said, turning away from the spectacle that Malfoy had so currently caused. When the group had turned away from him, Malfoy let his shoulders sink, oddly disheartened towards being ignored. "What bags?" Ron's voice asked again.

"Sleeping bags, Ronald." Ginny hissed, with a shake of her head. She watched as Hermione dug them from her hefty bag. Graciously, she laid each of the sleeping bags out and Ginny continued matter-of-factly, "you can't expect to find your way back within the night. Obviously Ashby or Mort preformed some sort of mind erasing charm."

Draco snorted sarcastically, "oh, temporary, of course." Though he once again went utterly ignored.

"And we're not going to look around?" The protest came form both Ron and his brother.

Hermione shook her head. As she did so, her bushy brown hair fell dramatically over one of her shoulders, "No, we're going to get some sleep." Ron and George gave in rather quickly, and all of them had sunk low into their sleeping bags. All expect Malfoy, who stood gaping as the others turned so willingly on their backs.

At once he took off and behind him he heard Hermione mutter, "where's Malfoy going? Shouldn't someone go get him? Harry?"

And Harry whispered back, "good. Let him go, it's better for the lot of us that way."

But Malfoy wasn't leaving. He'd be back before night fell when he was positive that the remaining had fallen asleep. As he thundered off into the dark forrest, his hands balling in tight balls, he couldn't help but notice the panic in his chest. Darkness overtook the sky, blackness faded in.

Vonne: REVIEW