A/N: wait, another chapter? the very next day? yes, yes, it's true. youre welcome. i will ride this random burst of inspiration train for as long as my attention span will allow as to help you all get through this oddity we call life - because what better way to cope than to ignore reality and get lost in a wonderful world of imagination and all the DRAMIONE feels possible.
At least, that's how i'm handling myself these days!
A/N pt II: When I am writing it helps me to be able to picture my characters in real life so I can imagine how they would interact, their body language, etc. SOOOOO... if anyone is interested to know how I picture the characters in this story I've made a cast inspo post on my Tumblr. If you don't have tumblr you can just google them: (if you don't give a fudge and just want to read the story, you can do that too lol)
Hermione : the lovely Emma Watson
Draco : Lucky Blue Smith (often i envision Tom Felton, but for this particular story Lucky just screamed perfection)
Harry : Daniel Radcliffe (though i do love the idea of a middle eastern Harry that I keep seeing in fan art, so if anyone knows of a actor/model they think fits I would love to hear your recommendations)
Theo : Luke Powell (he's perfectly Theo in my opinion, I swoon, do yourself the favor of pintresting him)
Daphne : Florance Pugh
Blaise & Pansy : as casted in the films :)
Chapter Playlist:
In this shirt : the Irreplaceables
TALK ME DOWN : TROYE SIVAN
FOOLS : TROYE SIVAN (*NottPott inspo)
Dream : Mountain Bird
Waking Up Slow (piano version) : Gabrielle Aplin
White Teeth Teens : Lorde
Adrenaline still remained in Hermione's veins from their lucky escape, adrenaline that allowed her to not second guess their decision to jump from the large beast into the freezing waters; but the warm pumping of her blood in her veins started fading as she trudged out of the water onto the shoreline. Waves crashed around her ankles as she attempted to control her heavy breaths, her lungs burning from the tole the journey turned out to be taking on her body. The skin near her forearm tingled as the pain beneath in her veins, intensified. Shoving the pain aside she hurried forward, her teeth chattering from the freezing chill flowing over her damp clothes. She stumbled forward, her legs feeling far too heavy, landing on her knees once she was out of the oceans reach; taking comfort in the soft sand catching her fall.
"Hermione! Are you alright?"
She turned to see Harry darting to her side, his shaggy hair clinging to his face, water still dripping from him. She quickly nodded as she felt his arm wrap around her back, guiding her to her feet.
"Yes— I'm— I'm fine. What about you?"
"I'm good." He answered between heavy breaths, lifting his hand to shove his hair straight back, and they both lifted their gaze to search for Draco and Theo. The moment her eyes landed on Theo fumbling out of the water a few yards away with Draco's arm wrapped around him, clinging to him for support, she seemed to forget the pain humming in her bones and quickly jogged over to them.
As they got closer she noticed how much blood was still trickling from the scar along his shoulder, his shirt now sliced open from the jinx. She dug in her bag for her wand and moved to kneel next to where Theo was slowly lowering him onto the sand.
"Fuck—" Draco winced as his head hit the sand. He couldn't seem to keep his eyelids to remain open and Hermione had to suppress the rising panic building inside her to steady her hands.
"Harry— in my bag— there's a green wrap—"
"I've got it."
She felt Harry hand her the cloth as she tore the rest of Draco's shirt off to access the wound. She managed to rid his skin of most of the blood and began stitching the gash in his skin, thankful her fingers remained steady and her mind focused, as he continuous grunts of pain filtered out of his mouth with every stitch.
"There should be a few vials of blood replenishing and numbing potions as well—"
Harry tossed several vials to Theo who immediately moved to tilt Draco's head up and tipped the vial to his lips. He coughed up the first attempt but the second and third went down smoothly.
"What's the wrap for?" Harry asked as she swiftly finished up her stitch work. Draco seemed to be floating in and out of consciousness now.
"I've charmed it to absorb similar properties of essence of dittany as well as a few other herbs meant for relaxing the mind, numbing the pain." She explained and gently lifted Draco's body to sit up so she could wrap the cloth around his chest and shoulder a few times before placing him back down. "The jinx tore deep into muscle tissue so only applying it topically won't heal it immediately. He'll need a few hours before he can use his shoulder again. He may be a little out of it for a while, but it will stop the wound from opening again."
Hermione laid him back down, worrying her bottom lip as she glanced over his exposed skin, surprised to see a thin dull white scar sliced across his collarbone stretching down across his chest and ending on his lower abdomen. Harry seemed to be staring at the same thing, his brow pulled together and a look on his features that Hermione recognized as guilt. Before he could linger in that feeling for too long she quickly made work of covering what she could with the wrap, leaving only the top of his good shoulder and lower abdomen on display.
"We shouldn't apparate with him like this. It's too dangerous. We need to get him out of the wind, somewhere warm."
"I'm fine—"
Hermione's heart spiked as she watched Draco's eyes flutter open and he attempted to sit up, only to flinch and fall back down with a pained growl. She glared down at him as he tried again, only to fall once more. She placed her hand gently over his chest, keeping him down.
"No. You aren't."
"Well we can't stay here." Harry said a moment later as Draco grumbled something unintelligible beneath his breath.
Draco rolled his head to the side, half opening his left eye and lifted his good arm to hit Theo's knee, "Tell hrrrr— tell her mmm…. that mmm perrrfffmecly fffnnnn—"
"You certainly sound fine to me, mate. No clue why she'd think otherwise." Theo said seriously, making Draco snap his fingers and point at him as he glanced back at Hermione, "See Grrnnnnger— Theeeosss'em fennnn."
"If we can't apparate we should at least head towards the tree line. I don't like how exposed we are out here." Harry continued, ignoring Draco's incoherent mumbling.
Hermione nodded, moving to her feet and reaching into her bag. "I agree. We can find somewhere to set up camp deeper in the forest until it's safe—"
"Hold on a bloody minute—" Theo interjected, moving swiftly to his feet to stand before them with his arms folded firmly across his chest. "How many times do I have to remind you Granger? I don't do nature strolls, and I most certainly don't do camping in the fucking woods!"
"Afraid are we, Nott?" Hermione asked, not even bothering to look up from her search within her bag.
She began ticking off her mental checklist for everything they would need if they were forced to remain here for the night, a list she had memorized easily after months on the run with Harry. She was mildly surprised at how easy it felt for her to fall into their survival mode rhythm. She was about to suggest Harry and Theo levitate Draco when the sound of someone whistling a few feet away made her lift her gaze. Confusion spread within her mind as she watched Theo's retreating form move towards the water once more, clapping his hands loudly as he whistled up to the sky.
"Here boy—" He called out, followed by another long string of whistling.
Hermione glanced at Harry who just shrugged seemingly equally perplexed, though slightly more amused than she thought appropriate.
"Here big bastard— here boy—"
She rolled her eyes and strode closer to Theo. "What are you doing?"
He kept his gaze upward, letting out another whistle before responding over his shoulder.
"Summoning the bloody beast back for a ride to the nearest Inn." He whirled around to face her, his features completely serious, which only made Hermione want to laugh at how ridiculous he looked summoning a dragon, drenched from head to toe. "I refuse to sleep amongst the creepy crawlies and dirt and whatever Merlin fuck else. RE - FUSE, Granger— stop smiling. This is serious. I'm completely— Potter, I swear to fuck— both of you stop laughing!"
"I'm not laughing." Harry coughed covering the tail end of his laugh, a wide grin spreading over his still dripping face. "It's totally normal for you to be afraid of the woods, and not funny at all."
He stormed forward coming to a stop in front of Hermione, who was struggling to keep her grin from growing the closer he got. "Theodore Volcom Nott does not do nature!"
She shook her head and glanced down at Draco who was smirking up at his friend, "Eee's right, nnnature disssarees withhuumm," his eyes fluttering shut a moment later.
She turned back to Theo and sighed.
"I'm too exhausted for your dramatic tantrums, Nott— and Draco needs to get somewhere warm before he dies from hypothermia." She leaned down to place the empty vials near Draco in her bag and levitated Draco to his feet, placing a feather-light charm on him and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "We'll be in our cozy little tent in the woods while you await your dragon taxi—"
"Taxi?" Theo blinked as she turned with Draco and began to stalk across the open field towards the woods. He glanced over at Harry who was shoving his hair back from his face once more, still smirking at him like an idiot. "Wipe that fucking grin off your face Potter— I'm not afraid of the bloody woods, I simply prefer my lodgings to be void of the smell animal droppings."
Harry nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. "And here I thought you'd be tempted by the chance to have a sleepover with me... at least— I know that was the first thing that crossed my mind—" Harry shrugged, pretending he didn't see Theo visibly stiffen at his words, and started towards the tree line, "—anyway, good luck with the dragon taxi..."
Theo felt his jaw audibly shut, his cheeks burning as he stared after Harry. Though he was still confused about what the fuck a taxi was, Theo was more confused by the personality disorder Harry seemed to have picked up in the last twenty four hours. Only a day ago did he seem beside himself with grief, the image of depression itself, but today he had kissed him. Today he was flirting. Today was different.
Different, but familiar.
This version of Harry was the one Theo spent hours waiting by the Black Lake for, hoping he might stumble out of the castle with the desire to seek him out, to be with him, if only for a moment— even if neither of them would ever admit why they did.
This version of Harry was the one Theo purposely choose the seventh seat, third table down at the Slytherin table for in the Great Hall because he knew it would place him directly across from him; the seat that would allow him to watch from afar as he clumsily spilled his drink in his lap with his hair tossed in every direction because he'd only woken up early enough to be dressed in time for breakfast— where he watched him eagerly nod along to Grangers explanation of something as he scribbled his quill over blank parchment hoping to finish a late assignment before class— where he would imagine the smile on Harry's face being meant only for him, that he was the one sitting next him, whispering something entirely inappropriate as he pressed his thigh against his beneath the table because Theo adored the pink shade that rose to his cheeks when he was embarrassed— where he would would methodically time his glances so that when Harry stood to leave their eyes would lock, and he could replay Harry's reaction of nervously biting his lip before smirking down at his feet in his mind on a loop for the rest of the day and into most nights where he would close the curtains around his bunk for privacy, grip his hand around his stiff length and unashamedly find his release from the thought of wild raven hair, bright green eyes, and that infuriating fucking smirk.
This version of Harry was the one Theo knew.
He knew he almost always missed the third button of his shirt on days he had a Quidditch match from pure excitement.
He knew that he loved to eat, but hardly remembered to because he was used to missing meals.
He knew he was oblivious to almost everything normal people paid attention to— like the way Weasley's sister would blush whenever he spoke to her or the way he claims the attention of an entire room just by entering it— but completely aware of details that are impossible to notice for anyone other than him.
He knew that he was impossibly stubborn, but could admit when he's wrong.
He knew that he thought Hermione Granger the most brilliant person, man or woman, he'd ever met and he only laughed, truly laughed, whenever he was with Ron Weasley.
He knew that whenever someone would tell him that he looked like his parents he would smile and thank them, but on the inside he felt the lingering pain of guilt and regret for being the one to survive when they didn't.
He knew that he would never admit that sometimes, when life becomes too heavy, he's jealous of the dead.
This version of Harry was the one Theo had fallen in love with beneath the moonlight beside the Blake Lake the night he kissed him back, and as Theo watched him walk away he found he could no longer justify wanting to be anywhere else, even if that meant he had to slum it for a night.
As Theo started after him towards the tree line, his heart felt light in his chest, as if it had turned into a hummingbird and had begun hovering, trapped within his ribcage. Just as he catches up to Harry he slows his pace. He feels Harry glance over at him, but decides he can't look at him just yet; not when his mind is determined to make him think of how pitiful he is for allowing Harry to have such a strong hold over him.
"Does this mean you're looking forward to the sleepover after all?"
It takes Theo a moment to collet himself. When he does he decides it's better if Harry doesn't know that Yes, as a matter of fact, I am, and also, I'm in love with you, so could you maybe not brush your shoulder against mine because I can't fucking concentrate you infuriately perfect disastrous moron—
Instead, Theo simply scoffs, "You wish, Potter."
Theo had imagined the conversation ending there, well, he hoped, but clearly Harry's mood swings were in full form at this particular moment. Theo felt the lightest touch of Harry's finger graze the small of his back, slowly moving upward until one finger spread into several at the nape of his neck, curling into his hair, forcing them both to stop walking as Harry gently turned Theo to face him and stepped forward so their noses were inches apart. Theo kept perfectly still, not trusting himself as the starving ache building in his lower abdomen steadily grew more intense.
"I really do." Harry smiled, his eyes dropping to Theo's slightly parted lips and Theo wanted to fucking punch him. Harry released his fingers from his hair and took a step back, returning to his trek towards the forest.
Theo clenched his jaw, tossing his head back to stare up at the sky and released a much needed breath, grateful Hermione and Draco were much further ahead of them. He immediately reached to adjust himself in his trousers, refusing Harry the satisfaction of becoming aware of his obvious arousal— shaking his head and inwardly cringing at himself— you're fucking pathetic Theo…
Hermione and Harry immediately fell into their familiar rhythm of preparing their tent for the night. Hermione placed the necessary wards while Harry prepared the inside, unpacking what little food she had in her bag along with her notes and books she's collected concerning their horcrux hunt. Draco was still recuperating, taking occupancy on the bunk near the back on the raised level within the tent.
Triple checking her handy work on the wards she finally felt confidant enough to be of use else where, or finally rest her aching legs. She stood just within the wards barriers, glancing around at her surroundings, knowing in their past camping endeavors it proved useful to be familiar with the area.
It was strange. Thinking of her time before being tucked away in Draco's room. There she had comforts that she had not been able to enjoy while on the run with her best friends and being thrown into the unsettling discomfort that came with the uncertainty of safety, but she was surprised to find that she wasn't afraid at all. Instead, her heart felt warm and full, despite being in the middle of no where during a war she was one of the major targets of.
She thought it might be some odd way her mind was trying to comfort her, to remind her that she had survived thus far— to be grateful. She had spent so much time dreading the thought of never seeing Harry or Ron ever again— of dreading what would happen if the curse in her veins would take her before she could…
But as she glanced around the scenery she knew that nothing was different than the previous time she and Harry were forced to camp on the run. Not really. They were still hunting Horcruxes. They still had one Horcrux with no way to destroy it. They were still in danger no matter where they lay their heads. So why did she feel so incredibly calm?
It was still bright out, but the sun would be lowering soon. She glanced to her right, finding Theo appearing from the hill below. He was walking slowly towards the tent, but then paused as the view over the cliff edge they were perched on caught his attention. His back was to her now as he stood there, seemingly lost in thought. He changed into some of the clothes she had packed in her bag for Harry and Ron, neither really fitting; him being a few inches taller than Harry, but much leaner than Ron.
She smiled fondly at the sight of him in a slightly too large brown jumper and a pair of too snug muggle jeans that rolled above his ankles— finding that he looked very casual out of his usual attire, which was similar to Draco's in that everything was tailored to their lithe frames. She slowly approached him, stopping to stand next to him to stare out at the ocean, thankful for the canopy of trees surrounding them, blocking the chilly breeze. She wrapped her arms around her self, pulling the grey sweater that she borrowed from Harry snugly around her.
He glanced over upon her approach, a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips, but neither of them said a word, enjoying the silence that came with their remote location and the stunning view stretched out before them. The ocean's array of blues were a perfect balance of light and dark, the clearer waters inviting and the darker waters framed by storm clouds along the horizon. She found them deeply alluring... drawn to lighter waters upon first glance, but ultimately forced to linger on the darker shades that were much more seductive to the eye, as it took more time to find where the darkness ended or begun; another puzzle, another metaphor for what she imagined happening inside the wizard standing next to her.
She found her thoughts drifting to being stuck in the small closet with him and Harry only hours ago. She thought of his father and how much she hated not being able to hex the man into oblivion. She couldn't imagine being forced to watch someone kill an infant, least of all her her own parent. The image of a younger version of Theo battered and bruised surfaced in her mind and she wondered what happened the other times his father abused him, when Draco couldn't be there for him. His mother took her own life leaving him with a brother only for him to be taken away too. It felt wrong. For someone as intricate as Theo to be haunted with a type of loneliness that neither her or Harry could fathom. Their parents had loved them. Hell, even Draco's parents loved him, protected him in the twisted dark web they weaved for themselves.
Tears burned behind her eyelids, but she forced them to remain there, knowing Theo would probably hate her for pitying him, or deny any of what she heard, playing it off in some callous way.
Funny, she thought to herself, that she believed she knew him enough to understand how he would react to her sympathy. She really hadn't known him in school and the past few months they shared little, but their friendship felt significant somehow.
"You know, it wasn't terrible—" Hermione said casually, breaking the peaceful silence they had been in for several minutes, "—having you along today."
"Suspicious—" Theo tilted his head to narrow his eyes at her, "What gives?"
"What do you mean?"
"Your being uncharacteristically pleasant. It's unsettling."
"Unsettling? I'm just—"
"Ahh— I get it." Theo interrupted, nodding his head and turning to look back over the cliff. "You think I'm out here contemplating the disturbing reality that is my father, is that it? Well, let me settle your overly emotional Gryffindor morality and confirm that I have no thoughts on any matter where Nott Sr. is concerned."
Hermione sighed, realizing maybe she wasn't as good as she thought at keeping her thoughts from seeping onto her face.
"I just wanted to make sure you were—"
"I distinctly remember telling you that I would indulge your curiosities of my childhood only after you are entirely inebriated to the point of possible loss of recollection the conversation ever took place— and only then. So unless you've got a bottle of Firewhisky in that bleeding endless bag of yours then this conversation ends here." Theo said, tucking his hands in his trouser pockets and turning away from the cliff, moving towards the tent but stopping abruptly.
Hermione followed his gaze as she recognized his posture tense slightly, the corner of his eye twitching nervously. When she turned to see Harry moving towards them, she had to suppress her grin as Theo darted his attention away from Harry to her curious stare, her brow lifted in amusement as he swallowed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as if he couldn't determine which would keep him from having to remain in this situation.
"Nott, where's the firewood?" Harry asked as he eyed the area around the two of them.
"We're wizards you twat. Summon your own firewood." Theo grumbled as he started walking past him, leaving Hermione and Harry starring after him as he shoved himself through the tent's entrance.
"Did I do something?" Harry asked Hermione, coming to join her to replace Theo's place.
"No." Hermione laced her arm with his and leaned her head against his shoulder as they both stared out over the cliff. "He's just irritable— Probably needs a nap."
She felt Harry's shoulder shake under her head as he chuckled lightly, "You say that like he's an infant whose just had a tantrum."
Hermione shrugged, pursing her lips, "I said what I said, Potter."
"Dear Merlin, who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger? You need to limit your interactions with all Slytherins immediately."
They both laughed and she clung to him a little tighter, feeling the warmth of contentment settling in her bones again, wondering if she should feel guilty for feeling so calm with so much disaster taking place all around them. As if her body needed to remind her of said disaster, the scar on her forearm pulsed to life, her veins burning in a constant dull rhythm she had forced herself to get used to.
The sound of Harry inhaling a long breath helped distract her. She lifted her head to glance over her friend, unable to place the emotions stirring behind his gaze.
"Is it strange that I feel… good?" He said without look at her,"—like genuinely. I know we're hardly any closer to destroying the cup than we are to knowing what the next Horcruxes could be, but— I don't know—" he turned to her, his gaze bright for the first time since they reunited, "— right now, I'm just really happy, or relieved rather? I don't know. Maybe its because you're here... like a part of me isn't missing anymore."
Hermione smiled back at him, knowing exactly what he meant— knowing he was wondering the same as her, if he should feel guilty for letting himself feel anything but rage and grief. The knot in her chest coiled tight as she tried to not think about how difficult it must have been for him, thinking she was dead, the thought of her enduring the same... that she could ever survive loosing Harry was daunting to the point of causing the coil in her chest to snap completely— leaving the imaginary pain in it's wake. She wouldn't think of it. Not ever.
"I think we're owed it, don't you? At least for now?" She settled on saying instead, forcing her lips to curl upward. "I won't tell anyone if you don't."
Harry nodded, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, turning them both towards the ocean again. Both seemingly lost in the contrast of colors, and ultimately settling on the darkness rolling over the sea, hurdling towards them at an agonizing pace, slow but with purpose— demanding their attention, but allowing time to prepare for what it will soon bring— truly, the calm before the storm.
Pansy Parkinson was a very mistrusting witch on principal. She didn't even trust her own mother, which stems from her very unfortunately fortunate childhood filled with faux love and pretty shells disguising their ugly truths underneath, so who could blame her really? She believed the worst in people until proven otherwise, and even then, mistrusted them still, well, almost everyone. Her eyes found Daphne's across the field. She trusted Daphne as well as she knew how to trust someone, which is more than she had given anyone else. Though, if Daphne ever betrayed that trust, Pansy hated to internally admit it, but she knew it would hardly matter. Daphne could stomp all over her very dark, very fragile heart and toss it to the wolves (ironically speaking), and Pansy would still search for her dirty blonde curls and sun kissed skin in every room.
She was momentarily allowing herself the privilege to remember how beautiful she found her to be in full wolf form. The sandy color of her hair remained, though slightly paler, as well as her piercing eyes which remained the only thing in the world Pansy thought could prevent her from believing true love doesn't exist. It did. It existed in the green and blue iris' of the girl she had foolishly only begun fighting to keep.
Though the image was enough to stop her breath, Pansy was immediately reminded why she rarely allowed herself to get lost in it— it was hardly ever the appropriate time or place, especially while training a pack of immature newly bitten werewolf recruits. Not surprisingly, Daphne had been far more apt to taking on her werewolf abilities. She had always been far too clever for the simple life her parents saw her floating into after Hogwarts. The though selfishly thrilled Pansy... that she could be the one to help her reach something of a higher potential, knowing she was meant for greater things than being a Pureblood wife of some poor sod who would never truly know what beauty they hold within their grasps.
A smile pulled over her lips as she thought of Daphne's parents insisting Theo Nott for their pairing, thinking similarly (absurdly) as her own parents did for her and Draco, that they would be a perfect match. What rubbish. Daphne was hers. Yes, she could say that firmly. Meaning it. Believing it. It felt nice, actually.
As for Theo... well, who really knew what that disturbed— though self-proclaimed 'misunderstood'— little lunatic wanted from life? Pansy loved Theo as one loved a lost puppy; she cared for him, but knew without a leash he would set off to mindlessly destroy everything in his path, nipping at the ankles to test his limits and peeing on everything when he'd taken it too far— and he'd do it all with an annoyingly theatrical flare and retreat into himself until you feel responsible for making it up to him. She rolled her eyes fondly, before bringing her thoughts back to the present.
Daphne was explaining the very important need to learn control, not only over your psychical form, but more importantly your mind— how the strength to kill or not kill came from not will, but from want.
"…controlling ones desires is much harder than simply not having the will to kill. It won't mater that you think you don't have it in you to kill while your in full form. It won't matter because the moment you turn, everything is heightened except rational thought. Bloodlust will outweigh will power, I assure you."
With that she began pairing off the recruits, preparing them for dodging spells and blocking them for those who could wield magic. Strategically allowing them the back up of their human form if needed. Several of the recruits took to training with renewed vigor, glad to no longer be under the watchful glare of Greyback; while some feared if they didn't comply they would be sent back to him— no matter how many times Pansy reiterated that this wasn't the case. She knew about choices. There were difficult choices and then even more difficult choices, nothing else. She was giving them the lesser of the two. Not to mention she secretly enjoyed the superiority she felt whenever they looked to her, with respect. She hadn't really ever felt it before. Being a witch in her family was only slightly above being an elf. They served the purpose of continuing the sacred lineage and little else.
Pansy felt her spine tingling, pulling her attention away from the intricate weaving combative dance Daphne was showing them. She lifted her chin, pushing her nose a bit higher in the air as the wind swept over the field, sensing something was off. Slowly she began moving towards the wards barrier, the humming of magic buzzing around her. A moment later the sound of a loud 'crack' alerted her of the two figures appearing in the distance.
Narrowing her eyes and gripping her fists tightly by her side she began to quickly stomp towards a very calm looking Blaise Zabini, his hand wrapped around the arm of a very furious, very fidgety red haired witch.
Now this was a witch she most certainly did not trust.
"What the fuck, Zabini?" Pansy growled. None of these fucking wizards seemed to keep their cock's from thinking for them, it seemed. Remembering Daphne's earlier speech about surpassing desires, she decided it's relevancy should be extended to her Slytherin boys as well as the recruits.
The moment they stepped through the barrier, Ginny Weasley's wide eyes darted to Pansy's, tugging herself away from Blaise's hold.
"Let go of me!" She cried and he finally released her, allowing her to stagger away. She paused, her eyes immediately rolling over the open field behind and gasped.
Pansy crossed her arms firmly over her chest, lifting a very impatient brow as Blaise swaggered over to her, taking his place next to her to face Ginny and mirroring her stance, arms over chest and stance tall.
"What's going on? Where did you bring me? Who are they?"
Pansy opened her mouth to speak, but Blaise's silky voice slithered out first.
"This is the proof you requested, Ginevra."
"Proof?" Both Pansy and Ginny repeated with matching dubious expressions.
"That your side is mine." Blaise turned his body slightly to gesture to the group of teenagers listening intently to Daphne as she showed them the proper way to cast a body-binding curse. "While you've been preparing your troops, so have we. I'd wager combining our forces could give Potter the upper hand to really end this— once and for all."
Ginny continued blinking at him and Pansy wanted to roll her eyes at how long it was taking the witch to piece together what he was saying.
"I don't recall giving you permission to use my army to help you prove your undoubtably disturbing courtship with the Weaslette , Zabini."
Blaise continued grinning at Ginny as he leaned towards Pansy, speaking in a false whisper, "You can punish me later. The look on her face right now will be worth it."
"Whatever..." Pansy shivered, releasing a sound mixed between a strangled gag and groan. "Explaining this to Draco, though, is entirely on you. Apparently he and Theo are still stuck Merlin knows where with Potter and Granger and won't be back until morning. Daph and I received Theo's signal an hour ago—"
"Did— d-did you just say Potter?"
Pansy grinned as Ginny began rapidly blinking, jaw hanging open. Clearly Blaise hadn't mentioned that her loverboy was soon to be returning to this very safe house. Pansy felt less annoyed knowing that. She turned to walk away, pausing briefly to pat Blaise on the shoulder twice, glancing smugly from Ginny and back to Blaise.
"Good luck."
A/N: Oh hi, thanks for reading this. I have been so happy reading all of your reactions to the past two chapters that I thought you deserved this as well :) As always, REVIEW & I hope you enjoyed this little filler chapter. I would even venture to claim that the next chapter will be posted before Friday? Or maybe my mind will keep working with me and it will be posted tomorrow? Well, suspense is more fun anyway, right?
A/N: I would love to hear any theories you guys have on whats to come; like... (what Volde's been up to and why he hasn't summoned Draco?... or why Lucius has Bellatrix's twin dagger, and why did he need Dolohov and Nott Sr. help?... or really? Greyback hasn't realized that some recruits are missing?...) yea, theories are fun and sometimes your comments spark inspiration to completely rewrite an entire scene to make it more juicy... I like to give the people what they want, but also make you question everything you thought you knew about our little band of characters that I have simply loved exploring and expanding upon - especially Theo, if you couldn't tell from this chapter. I literally write down random thoughts throughout the day of what absurd catch phrases I can give him. He's a gem.
...Ok, that's enough rambling from this nerd - I'm out! Until next time...