Harry Potter and the Founders
By: LuvFantasy
Chapter Forty Five: The Silver Brooch
The storms returned with great fury that evening, forcing scores of bedraggled students back to the sheltering walls of the ancient castle, wringing their hair out irritably and cursing waspishly at the terrible weather. Harry and Hermione, having come in several hours earlier upon finding the Quidditch pitch already covered with the players from other teams, suffered none of this and watched with ever increasing smiles as Ron and Luna entered the Great Hall, completely soaked.
Ron seemed to be helping Luna with something she was holding, though every few minutes he would let out a yelp and clap at the air towards something Harry couldn't make out. The two of them sat down at the Gryffindor table, Ron's hands cupped together tightly.
"Hello, Harry – Hermione," Luna said with a vague smile, sitting down beside Ron and Hermione. Harry smiled and peered around Hermione's shoulder – she was previously engaged with a book – at Ron,
"What's that?"
Ron grimaced, "Cruel implements of torture used on unsuspecting blokes."
Hermione raised her eyebrows, though she didn't look up from her book, and Luna laughed, her earrings jingling –
"They're Kicklies."
"Kicklies?"
Luna nodded energetically, "They live in lakes and feed on merhair. They help you remember your dreams by sleeping on your pillow next to your ear and whispering to you."
Harry laughed and then quickly disguised it as a fit of coughing. Luna looked at him, nodding wisely. "Sorks – Kicklies help with those too."
She turned around and took Ron's hand in his own – to which he blushed furiously – opening it to reveal several prickly looking brown balls. She lifted one and then turned around to face Harry,
"Here."
Harry looked at it, "Er…"
Hermione sighed and closed her book, turning to Luna, "So, how was your afternoon?"
Luna withdrew her hand, cupping it as the strange ball quivered and began to roll about on her palm, smiling dreamily, "Wonderful. Although Ronald slipped on a wet stone."
Ron's ears grew even redder at this new revelation. He took Luna by the hand, "Come on – let's go … to the Library."
"But don't you want to eat?" Hermione asked, eyeing them both. Ron hastily shook his head,
"Nope. Not really hungry just now. Bye!"
He hurried off with Luna, and Hermione turned to look at Harry, her expression very Hermione-ish. "Look at this, Harry."
She reached for the book she had been reading, thumbing through it towards the back and then beginning to read in a low whisper,
" 'One of the most prized possessions of the early founder was her brooch, though the giver remains unknown. Rowena was often reported to wear it, and upon her death it was given to her cousin. For several centuries, the heirloom was passed down from one generation to the next, though today its location is secret and the last descendant of Rowena's cousin – Mrs. Gareth Rowe states that the brooch has been missing for some time,'" Hermione closed the book, her eyes flashing brightly with excitement. "This is what Voldemort's after. This is what he needs for his next Horcrux!"
"But we don't know where it is," Harry countered, "Or even if it still exists. It could've been destroyed."
Hermione sighed impatiently. "Oh, Harry, it couldn't be more obvious! It's got to be in Rowena's Writings!"
"Because the store's named after her?" Harry asked speculatively.
"No, because Rowena's Writings is owned by Gareth Rowe. Her mother was the descendant of Rowena's cousin. And look at what she's wearing in this picture," Hermione grabbed her copy of the Daily Prophet, flipping towards the back and placing it on the table in front of Harry, pointing to a circular picture of a tall, elderly woman with thickly braided hair. She was holding up a book to the camera and turning pages slowly, speaking mutely through the visage as if giving a presentation. Around her neck hung a silver chain with a small pendent hanging from it. Hermione looked triumphantly at Harry,
"That's the brooch."
"But they said in the book-!"
"So she lied. Clearly she doesn't want anyone to know she has it." Hermione argued. Harry raised his eyebrows,
"Hermione-!"
"Oh don't Hermione me!" She snapped shrilly. "I know I'm right, and I'll prove it!"
She swiftly packed up her bags, sparing him an irritated glance and stomping off in the direction of the Heads' Common Room. Harry sighed, reaching for his pumpkin juice instead and taking a sip. He looked up as Ginny took the newly vacated seat beside him.
"Hey Harry."
He swallowed. "Hey."
She looked at him for a minute, and he considered asking her what had happened earlier that day. Then she looked away and began to talk energetically with a fourth year by the name of Rob. Harry sighed and looked away, gulping down the rest of his meal and then hurrying out of the Great Hall in search of Hermione. He had no luck.
.xxxxxxx.
The next week passed slowly, with the homework loads piling up higher and higher as the examinations grew closer. Harry and Ron, who had ever before perfected the art of procrastination, learned fairly quickly that it would no longer be acceptable that Sunday as they lay sprawled out on the couches in the common room, staring blindly at their essays for Transfiguration. Hermione sat opposite them, waspishly taking down notes on her most recent assignment of study: Gareth Rowe. Ron let out a low moan and threw his quill across the room –
"That's it! I'm not doing another bloody thing! I don't care if I get a Troll anymore!"
Harry looked up blearily from his paragraph, the words of his last sentence swimming slowly from his focus. Hermione didn't look up from her book,
"You should have done it when it was assigned. But you decided it would be better to go on a date."
"Well at least I can get one," Ron spat back dispiritedly, glaring at Crookshanks who lay curled up by Hermione's feet.
"Whether I have a date or not – I won't be failing my N.E.W.T.s, Ronald."
Ron glared coldly at her, and Harry spoke up,
"Come on. We can just do the essay during our free period, Ron."
He made to start packing his things up, but Hermione slammed her book shut,
"No! You can't keep putting your studies off!" She said shrilly, looking furiously from Ron to him. Ron glared at her,
"Watch us."
Harry sighed. It was as if Ron and Hermione had forgotten the past year completely. "Ron, stop." Ron turned on him angrily,
"Sure. Take her side."
"Ron, it's stupid. Forget it."
It looked as if Ron might hit him for a moment, but then he sighed, sitting down heavily on the couch. The fire gave a loud crack, sending sparks up into the air. Crookshanks hissed and jumped up, disappearing into Hermione's room.
"Sorry," Ron muttered. "I'm just so tired."
Harry looked at him, "We all are."
"Yeah…I know."
Hermione looked at Ron for a minute and then reached for both his and Harry's essays with a resigned air. "I'm not going to keep doing this for you you know," she stated reprovingly, scratching out the first sentence in Ron's paper. Ron looked up, lifting his head from his hands, his face breaking into a grin –
"You've got to learn to do this on your own. It's N.E.W.T. year-"
"Thanks, Hermione!" He grabbed her in a bone crunching hug that would have made Mrs. Weasley proud and then let her go, beaming,
"You're great!"
Hermione's cheeks flushed a little and she reached for the fallen paper, "Well don't think-!"
"I know. No more putting off my homework. I've learned…believe me. Hey, you don't…" Ron looked around uncomfortably, "You don't want me to …"
Hermione shook her head, smiling, "You can go, Ron."
He let out a deep breath, "Thanks!"
Harry watched him hurry off to his room and grinned, looking at Hermione. She was lost to her own thoughts, chewing her lip as she scratched out one of Ron's incredibly long run-on sentences, scribbling something else in its place. He watched her for some time, finally looking away to stare at the articles on Gareth Rowe instead. He picked up the topmost one and read slowly, the fire crackling behind them.
"Hermione?"
She didn't look up from Ron's essay. "Mmm?"
"This is brilliant. I mean…I think you're right."
She turned to look at him, her glance snagging on the article in his hand. "What?"
"I think we should go to her shop."
"We've got class tomorrow."
"So we'll go tomorrow night. Hermione," he walked over to her, "How'd you find this out so fast?"
She looked away. "It was important."
"No, I mean – Ron and I have been swamped with all this work and somehow you've managed to do all that and this! How?"
"You – we need to find Voldemort's Horcruxes," she stated simply. "I made the time for it."
He looked at her for a minute, as her quill crossed neatly over the page…she looked up, "What?"
"Nothing. It's just – thanks, Hermione."
"Don't mention it." She returned to Ron's essay and Crookshanks reentered the room looking very pleased with himself, settling down by the hearth and letting out a contented purr. Harry sat back down, reaching for his own essay and finishing up the last of it – though he really hadn't grasped the subject of Rowan's Theory of Transfiguration very well at all and doubted one's ability to ride dragons had anything to do with it. Finally, at an hour from midnight, Harry and Hermione both stood up, stretching and stifling yawns.
"Well, good night, Harry." Hermione muttered, stifling a yawn. Harry nodded,
"You too."
They both departed to their rooms and shut the doors. Harry climbed into bed, yanking the covers up to his chin as a cold breeze rattled the window panes. As he looked around at the darkened silhouettes in the room, it occurred to Harry – just as he drifted off to sleep – that Draco's bed was empty.
.xxxxxxx.
Harry and Hermione stood waiting by the double doors leading out into the storming weather, watching as ghosts and students alike passed them by, chatting happily about the latest rumors or the most recent game. Hermione checked her watch irritably,
"He's nearly ten minutes late!" She hissed, scanning the heads passing them.
"I think Luna's keeping him busy," Harry said wisely – then remembered who he was talking to and hastily cleared his throat, "I mean – er, maybe he's …"
Hermione ignored his blundering and stamped her foot. "Honestly, he's got to start appreciating the important things in life!"
As Harry opened his mouth to speak, Ron suddenly appeared – looking quite harried. He caught sight of them and hurried over, pushing past a group of second years and coming to a halt in front of them.
"…Ready to go then?"
"We were ready ten minutes ago," Hermione snapped irritably. "What took you so long?"
Ron's ears reddened. "Oh! Well, Luna and I were…"
"Well I think she aught to give you some time alone. This is N.E.W.T. year after all!"
"It's not like we're studying," Ron argued, "and besides – I like her."
"Yes, we gathered that." Hermione snapped, pulling her cloak about herself tighter. "Let's go."
They looked around the hall once more to make sure no one was watching, and then Harry threw his invisibility cloak around himself and his two friends. Ron pushed open the doors. Outside, the rain had finally stopped, though the air was still muggy and a veil of graying mist overhung the grounds. The doors swung shut behind them, and they struggled to stay beneath the cloak as they slowly walked down the winding path to Hogsmeade. The sky darkened swiftly around them, and the bushes rattled with a sudden wind. A fox darted past them towards the castle, and an owl hooted. Hermione shivered beside Harry and Ron looked around nervously –
"Something doesn't feel right."
Harry didn't answer. He'd felt it too. They stopped, holding their breath and peering about through the surrounding mist. Undulating shapes twisted around them, tangling and unraveling on all sides. Nothing was visible more than three feet in front of them.
"…maybe we should wait," Hermione whispered. "We can always go tomorrow night."
"No," Harry hissed back firmly. "If something feels wrong we have to go. We can't just let the Death Eaters get the brooch!"
"But we don't even know if they know!" Hermione tried, "Harry, I really think we should wait."
"She has a point, mate. We won't get anywhere in this fog." Ron whispered back. Harry shook his head,
"I'm going. You two can stay if you want, but I've got to get the brooch before Voldemort does."
Ron and Hermione fell silent at his words, and he knew he'd won. They'd never let him go by himself. He pulled out his wand and held it steady in his palm,
"Point Me," he commanded. The wand spun around on his hand, finally grinding to a halt a few moments late, pointing to their right. "Come on."
They set off as one, their feet squelching as they pulled their boots out of thick sludge and mud, leaving dirty footprints on the wet grass. Several minutes passed, during which the fog around them grew denser, and Harry's unease grew. Something was very wrong. He knew it. The mist was unnatural. Odd. They continued forwards, finally stopping at the end of the Hogwarts grounds and taking hands,
"On the count of three then," Hermione said – her voice unnaturally high – "One, two … three."
Harry squeezed his eyes shut tightly and forced himself through the lung crushing tunnel, reemerging in the foggy streets of Hogsmeade, Ron and Hermione beside him.
"So – what next?" Hermione asked, looking about herself nervously, "Just…head to Rowena's Writings?"
Harry pocketed his wand, "Guess so."
"Where is it, exactly?" Ron asked, peering about.
"It should be just down the street," Hermione answered, setting off a little uncertainly, her feet making loud squelching noises as she pulled them out of the mud with an effort. Harry and Ron followed, trying to keep a look out for anything out of the ordinary, but prevented by the thick mists which seemed to have strengthened the moment they entered Hogsmeade. Some minutes passed, and then Hermione stopped, holding out both her arms to prevent Harry and Ron from going further. She pointed above their heads –
"Look!"
An ancient sign spun with cobwebs rocked gently on the whisper of a breeze, the peeling paint reading Rowena's Writings. The windows of the shop were dark, though a flickering candle lit the room feebly from its place on a low table by the glass. Shelves of books and scrolls rose up against the walls on either side of the glittering light, and an ancient woven rug covered the dark floorboards of the old shop.
"Should we go in?" Ron asked, looking at them both. "Just – ask her for the brooch?"
Harry didn't answer, for he didn't know himself. "We'll figure that out later." He pushed open the door of the shop, and a tiny golden bell rang, signaling their arrival. Hermione winced, and Harry hastily pulled them all inside and towards the corner of the room. Footsteps sounded above them, and a floorboard creaked. Ron grabbed the door and shut it. The bell tinkled again. Seconds later, Gareth Rowe appeared, her long gray hair swinging behind her in a thick braid. She peered crossly at the door through narrow eyes, and reached into her woolen gray sleeve, withdrawing a delicate wand of pine. Hermione stiffened beside Harry and hissed into his ear,
"Shouldn't we talk to her? We should let her know we're here!"
Harry didn't know why he refused, but he did. "Hermione, I really don't think that's such a good idea."
"Why not-?"
Ron clamped his hand over Hermione's mouth as Gareth turned sharply, staring at them. She took a step nearer, the wand in her hand held firmly before her. She took a breath and then lifted her wand –
"Petrificu-!"
A knock sounded on the door, and she broke off in the middle of the spell, eyeing the fogged windows. Three silhouettes were vaguely visible outside the door. Gareth Rowe lowered her wand, placing it back up in her sleeve and approaching the door. She yanked it open, and beside Harry, Hermione gasped. Snape was standing in the doorway, his cloak pulled tightly about his face, masking all of him save the long hooked nose and the greasy curtains of hair shrouding his dark eyes. Beside him stood a beautiful witch with emerald green eyes and blood red lips; her long graceful fingers clutched a wand. Vericia.
"Narcissa."
It was Vericia who spoke, her green eyes scanning the dusty room appraisingly; finally coming to rest on Gareth Rowe. "We have need of that necklace."
The door swung open on its hinges with a sudden gust of wind behind them, clattering loudly against the wall of the shop. Cold air swept throughout the room, and Gareth Rowe stiffened. Harry stared, unable to decide what was happening there.
"I said," Vericia stated icily, stepping closer to the elder woman. "I have a need for that necklace. Give it to me."
Gareth's eyes flickered past her, landing on Snape. "What's she doing here?"
"The Dark Lord desired her to take command of the mission." Snape replied, "She can be trusted, Narcissa."
Harry stared, wordlessly meeting Hermione and Ron's gazes. Gareth Rowe was dead. She'd been dead long before Hermione even found out about her.
Narcissa Malfoy reached for a tiny silver clasp at the back of her neck, withdrawing a long chain – and the brooch of Ravenclaw – from underneath the cotton of her robes. "Here, take it. I am honored to surrender to the Dark Lord that which he needs. I am his humble servant." She bowed her ancient head. The beautiful witch grabbed the necklace, and Harry stiffened, making for his wand. Hermione stayed his hand,
"Harry, no!" She hissed. Everyone froze, slowly turning to look towards the corner of the shop where Harry, Ron, and Hermione crouched. Snape's eyes flickered over them for a moment and then landed on something by the bookcase Harry was leaning against. Hermione's eyes grew wide –
"Harry, your shoe!"
He yanked back his foot hastily, but the damage was already done. Vericia's gaze was pinning them to the wall, her eyes glittering maliciously. She reached for her wand –
"Crucio!" Snape hissed, aiming wide. The spell shot towards them and Hermione grabbed Harry's arm, her nails digging into his skin. A smoking hole rested a few inches above their heads. Vericia looked at him coldly,
"That was my kill."
"Unfortunate," Snape replied, pocketing his wand and nodding his head in mock disappointment. "Yet, seeing as no one was present, there was no damage done."
Vericia's beautiful face twisted into a sneer. "You missed." Wordlessly, she flicked her wand towards them again. A jolt of green light lit up the room and Harry grabbed Hermione and Ron, pulling them down to the floor with him. Again, the spell landed inches above their heads in the wall. Vericia's expression paled with anger, and Snape tactfully turned away from her, glancing at Narcissa.
"We shall inform the Dark Lord of your success in capturing the brooch. It is no longer required that you pose as Gareth Rowe."
Narcissa's face hardened. "And what of my son? Is he forgiven?"
"His location remains unknown-"
"I mean is he forgiven? Can he come out of his hiding?"
Vericia looked over at Narcissa, her expression cold. "No. The Dark Lord has no use for him. He has failed him. He shall share the same fate as his father."
Narcissa stepped back, covering her mouth with her hands, her eyes wide in shock. Vericia's lips twisted into a cruel smile,
"And you would do well to watch your tongue, Narcissa, lest you displease him as well."
She ripped the silver chain from the brooch, tossing it towards Narcissa wordlessly. "Good evening." She turned towards the door, but Snape stood in front of her.
"If you please – the brooch."
"No. I was instructed to give it to the Dark Lord myself."
"It would be safer with me," Snape tried.
She laughed coldly. "Why? Because you are a man? Well, let me tell you this – it would be unfortunate if anyone stood in my way. Be it a brainless do-gooder or the Dark Lord's favorite." She dropped the brooch into her pocket and pushed past Snape into the swirling mist. Snape's face hardened into a snarl and he turned to go with her, leaving Harry, Hermione, and Ron alone into the room with Narcissa Malfoy. The door slammed shut behind Snape and Vericia. The bell tinkled.
Harry made to go after them, but Hermione grabbed his arm –
"No, Harry! We can't!" She hissed, her face pale with fright. "Snape will deal with her!"
"I can't just let Voldemort take it!" Harry whispered fiercely, "We've got to get the brooch! Snape has a cover to maintain, he can't just kill Voldemort's favorite witch!"
He pushed Hermione back easily and stood up, making for the door, dragging the other two with him. He yanked it open, ignoring the bell as it rang, and Narcissa's sobs – oblivious to what was going on around her – making instead for the street, following the footprints of Snape and Vericia. Around them, the fog swirled and undulated, confusing them as they sought to find direction. Hermione grabbed his arm again,
"Harry! Stop – we, we can't do this! You know we can't! We've got to tell Dumbledore, let him take care of it!"
"She's got it thought, Ravenclaw's brooch! Voldemort's going to make it a Horcrux!" Harry argued.
"He already has, Harry! Don't you see? Gareth Rowe was murdered…months ago! He made the brooch a Horcrux then, and left it in Narcissa's care. She never knew she had part of his soul around her neck, all she knew was that she had to please him and keep on drinking the Polyjuice Potion until it was no longer required! Harry, you – you can't go after them. Not now."
He looked at her and was surprised to see her eyes were filled with tears. Ron looked at him steadily, sharing a silent look.
"Harry, I think she's right. We'll tell Dumbledore and figure it out from there. Snape's long gone by now anyways. And the brooch and Vericia with him."
Harry sighed, ripping off the Invisibility cloak and staring out angrily at the fog. "What's with this stuff anyways? It's bloody March!"
He set off for Hogwarts, Hermione and Ron following him wordlessly.
.xxxxxxx.
Try as he might, Harry could not get a hold of Dumbledore that whole week, for every night he tried, Number 17 was always completely abandoned; save for the goats which ran in and out of the hut without a care in the world. Instead, he was forced to spend his nights glowering in the Heads' Common Room, moodily ignoring Hermione and Ron's attempts to cheer him up. After several days in this fashion, Harry found himself alone in the Common Room – Hermione and Ron having given up on him – his homework strewn across the ground. The door opened and Harry turned his head sharply to look –
"Malfoy!"
Draco froze, his expression ashen. It looked for a moment as if the pale boy might run from the room, but then he stiffened, slamming the door shut behind him.
"Potter."
Harry stood up, eager to take his anger out on someone besides his homework. "Where've you been? I haven't seen you once for two weeks!"
"Working," Draco answered coldly.
"More like watching Ginny. That's what you do, isn't it? Follow her around." Harry regretted his words once he had said them, but it was too late to retract them. Draco's expression hardened, his eyes like shards of gray ice in his grayer face.
"You're one to talk, Scarhead. I've seen how you look at Granger. It's pathetic, not to mention disgusting."
"I don't look at her any differently than I always have!" Harry spat, "You're the one with problems! She'll never like you – why can't you just let it go!"
"I would, if I cared about her. But I don't. She's a filthy little blood traitor. Not to men-!"
Harry whipped out his wand, "Don't ever call her that, Malfoy!"
Draco laughed dryly. "Fine. Hit me, Potter. Hit me with anything you've got…you'd be doing the whole world a favor."
They stared at each other for a moment, and then Harry lowered his wand, dropping it limply to the couch. Draco looked at it coldly for the briefest moment and then turned, disappearing into the room he shared with Harry. Harry watched him go, feeling both horrible and pleased at the same time. He sat back down on the couch, reaching for the nearest book. Defense Against the Dark Arts. He began to flip the pages without any real thought, blankly staring at the small black writing; not comprehending a word he read. Crookshanks jumped onto the couch, settling down in his lap, covering the book with his bushy tail. Harry sighed loudly, and Hermione walked in. She looked at him apprehensively,
"How are you?"
"I just yelled at Malfoy." He replied.
"What happened?"
"He came in."
"Harry." She walked over to him, her arms crossed over her chest and her lips pressed into a thin line. "You've got to apologize! Don't you know what he's going through?"
"Yes, I know perfectly well!" He snapped back bitterly. "He's hiding from both sides, and oh – his parents don't care about him. And he fancies Ginny Weasley. Wow. You know, I'm going through the same thing too, not that anyone bloody cares!" He broke off. That last sentence had just slipped out – he hadn't even thought of it – but now that he'd said it, he understood why he'd yelled at Draco. He'd been jealous of him. Jealous of how fiercely Hermione always defended … Malfoy. How she always picked Draco's side over him.
Hermione stared at him in surprise. Harry shook his head,
"Sorry, Hermione."
She didn't answer. It looked as if she might cry. Suddenly Harry was feeling completely awkward and hot, despite the chill of the drafty room. Hermione looked away,
"It's fine, Harry. I just didn't know you cared that much."
He stood up. "Cared about what?"
She began to pack up his homework, her voice a little shrill, "About Draco's feelings for Ginny."
Harry stared. "Ginny? Hermione – I don't, I don't fancy Ginny!"
She stopped, dropping the papers and books onto the couch. "Then what is going on here, Harry? You've been acting incredibly odd these last few weeks! What is it?"
"I…" He looked away from her. "I'm angry we lost the Horcrux."
"That's not the reason, Harry. You know it isn't."
"I don't know what you're talking about, Hermione." He replied evasively, hating himself for it.
An odd silence fell between them, during which Harry began to gather up his things. Hermione continued to stare fiercely at him, finally managing,
"You'll apologize to Draco?"
"Sure."
"Then goodnight. And I'm sorry – about the brooch. We'll find it."
He nodded slowly, and Hermione set off for her room, closing the door quietly behind her. Harry stood alone in the room for a minute, watching as flickering silhouettes danced across the walls in the golden light of the fire…thinking. The wind rattled against the glass panes, and he slowly reached for the ring on his finger, turning it slowly and feeling the familiar wrench as he was swept towards Number 17 Reed's Place.
A/N:
Well, here it is. A little interesting twist I do believe. I'm looking forwards to hearing your take on this chappie! And for all on a break – like me – enjoy!
Quidditchstar2291: Yes, Ginny definitely (how to put this in words?) … thinks she knows something. Or at least, thought she knew something. A horrible explanation, I know – but it's the best I can give without letting something slip. Thanks for reviewing!
Souunga: One of the trio? Well, I said it was a possibility, and I love your reasoning. But I shan't say "right" or "wrong". However, I do hope you liked Luna's explanation of "Kicklies", and I promise to give plently more R/L moments throughout the story. Thanks for reviewing!
mathiasgranger: Hmm. I'm not trying to make Harry stupid in this story – I think it's more inadvertent than anything – I'm just trying to make him feel as if Hermione doesn't feel for him the same way he does her. Therefore, he ignores her comments as mere elements of how deep their friendship is…as he always has in every book. "You're quite fanciable, Harry" scene from HBP anyone? I will make an effort to make him start accepting hints better from now on though. Thanks for reviewing!
CharmedNightSkye: Yes, Hermione is the "teacher" factor don't quite know what else to call it factor in the trio. Without her, Ron would go gallivanting off with Luna and Harry would drown under the weight of his responsibility. Draco/Ginny: Yes, I felt it was time to let that one out in the open though I doubt JKR would – even if she was going to write D/G; which she's not oh well. I can afford one unprofessional moment for the sake of my ships. (laughs) Thanks for reviewing!
grannyHPfan: Yes, although I won't promise Ginny's reciprocating Draco's feelings (not that he'll own to them) nor will I deny any possibility between the two. I feel like JKR when she discusses H/Hr and R/Hr…ugh Spying: (grinning) I shan't say anything other that: I love how you guys are picking up on my hints!! Thanks for reviewing!
GAU28: That's so cool! I never thought anyone would actually look for my story, let alone that there were good things circulating about it. This has seriously boosted my self confidence. (laughing) Yeah, I read a lot of those types of H/Hr fics too…they were a little sappy. I feel honored that my story is not among them. Thanks for reviewing!
terracannon876: I actually have no idea about this thing's length. I am trying to finish before HPDH comes out, and thus trying to lengthen chapters in an effort to shorten the amount of chapters. It's not quite working. (sighs) Oh well. It will be a super long story I guess. Thanks for reviewing!
ring mah b3LL: I felt it was time that Ron got started with Luna. She's certainly waited for him long enough. Thanks for reviewing!
jewgirl (): (winces) Sorry. I like, just remembered that when I posted it. I'm dreadfully sorry. Thanks for reviewing though!
caramary: Curses? Won't say, though you might be getting close to something…Thanks for reviewing!
kag20: The spy/attacker: Hermione? I won't tell you 'yes' or 'no'. I will remind you though, that "h-" doesn't always mean a name. There are several pronouns that begin with that letter as well. For instance, "her" "him" "Her" or "Him" depending on the subject. However, it is a brilliant theory. In terms of why Ginny couldn't reveal her attacker, it could be the Imperius curse…or something bigger. (grins evilly) Thanks for reviewing!
bushy-hairedgirlwithspunk: No, you didn't seem over the top. I've been called on the carpet for that by several reviewers, and therefore – using my powerful skills in deductive reasoning – I have concluded it was a problem. Thanks for pointing it out!
firemnwnb: Yeah, sorry – again – I always get them confused. Thanks for reviewing though!
sanaa: As I pointed out to kag20, "h" doesn't always refer to a name. It can also point to a pronoun, just as a hint. Yeah, I hate those stories too. They make me feel a little nauseous – just because there's nothing there besides completely random attraction H/G anyone? Thanks for reviewing!
Wolviezchick: I am depressed. You've ruined my day. Kidding! It's fine if you change ships, I sort of did with D/G. At this point I am not against Ginny and Neville and might actually write a story with them. So, I'm guilty of it too. Voldemort trying to kill his spy: Hmm, well…it might take the heat off a certain someone if he did, or he might have a different motive. If he attacked his spy in the first place. Just something to chew on, as I continue to confuse my poor reviewers/readers. Thanks for reviewing, and please keep on doing so!!
Thank you all for your reviews, and have a great vacation!
