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Hermione lifted her head to look at Malfoy. Her face felt wet, and she felt horrible. How could her father stoop to such low levels? She murmured, "W-what, Malfoy?" She hated that it came out as a stutter. She hated the fact that Malfoy, of all people, had seen her at her weakest. He must think that she was a weak, frail thing. She hated that it was Malfoy who had to mind her.

The sight of him in just his boxers seemed to have, at first, adverse affects on her. Couldn't he be better clothed? It wasn't exactly the hottest of days. She raised her eyes from his stomach muscles – she had no idea she was even looking there – to his eyes. His mouth twitched, and something slid across the surface of his cool, silver eyes. Hesitation, perhaps?

Hermione wiped her face with the back of her hand. "Tell me, Malfoy," she demanded in a thick voice.

He opened his mouth, and then closed it, and his eyes flashed briefly to the window. Hermione turned to follow his gaze, but didn't see anything. She turned back to look at him, and let out a soft sigh of frustration. "Can it be that hard?" she asked softly, trying to look into his eyes, but he was still looking out of the window.

Malfoy looked at her then. His eyes, despite the fact that they had completely melted, were unreadable. He bit his lip. "Not exactly, Granger," he said hesitantly.

Hermione levelled a gaze with him. "It's a yes or no question," she stated, irritation grasping the edges of her voice.

He shook his head once – to himself, Hermione was sure – and took a place next to her on the bed, though – Hermione noticed – a good few spaces away from her. She almost snapped at him for doing that; she didn't know why the action insulted her. Yet, she understood that he needed time to manage body contact.

He looked at her intently. "Granger, our lives are a fairytale," he said simply, inflicting hardly any emotion into his voice.

Hermione felt how her eyebrow lifted up in surprise. Coming from any other boy that would have sounded romantic; yet from Malfoy it sounded completely out of place.

Unfortunately, he saw right through her.

He closed his eyes briefly, breathing in slowly. Once he opened them, he looked at her, his eyes seeming more silver than ever. "I didn't mean it like that, Granger," he said quietly. Despite the non-smile upon his face, could she hear a smile in his voice?

Hermione felt her ears burn – they were surely red. She diverted her eyes to look elsewhere. "Don't be ridiculous, Malfoy," she tried to say in a strong, convincing tone. Yet the truth of his words and the tears she had just shed did not help her. "You know that wasn't what I meant."

She turned to look at him, and was extremely surprised to see a half-smile gracing his lips. Something moved inside Hermione, and she realized with a shock that it was her heart quivering. Why would it do that? she mentally questioned herself. After a few split-seconds, she put it down to the fact that she hadn't ever seen Malfoy produce a genuine smile, albeit a half-smile, so there really was hope for him.

He must have read something on her face, because his smile vanished almost as quickly as it had come. Hermione mentally sighed. Well, not everybody could screen their emotions.

"As I was saying," he said in a monotone, "our lives are part of a fairytale."

Hermione was about to object when he flashed her an irritated look.

"More specifically, the fairytale of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves," he said in the same, dull monotone.

Hermione absorbed this new information with difficulty. Grasping what he had said was no problem. It was the actual content that was the problem. "Excuse me?" she replied intelligently.

He edged closer to her, probably absent-mindedly. "Don't you see?" he asked, a hiss of frustration in his voice. He licked his lips. "I was trying to explain to McGonagall, but she only half-believed me...Actually, I think I might have convinced her, come to think of it...And what happened with your father ties up with my theory..."

Something snapped in Hermione when he mentioned her father, but she shook her head. "Malfoy, you're making no sense. Could you start at the beginning?"

He raked a hand through his hair, sighing. "I'm warning you, though, it's a lot to take in. Especially the one part, so be on your guard," he murmured, and Hermione felt like he was seeing right into her.

She tilted her head, curiosity perked. "Enlighten me, please." She found it difficult to return his gaze with the same intensity, so she merely looked at him.

"Right, basically, everything that happens in the fairytale, happens to us in reality."

"What?" Hermione couldn't stop herself from asking.

He narrowed his eyes slightly. "Patience. I'm getting there. Yes, so everybody who was chosen for a certain role in the musical has adopted the face value of everything to do with the character they play. Now, when I say face value, I mean everything that is narrated in the book happens."

Hermione didn't know what to say. "Uh huh," she settled upon.

His eyes narrowed properly now. "You don't believe me," he stated. Not a question.

"It's not that I don't believe you," she said slowly. "It just sounds really impossible."

"You're a witch, Granger!" he cried out. "How can you say that it's impossible?"

Hermione straightened. "Even in the magical world, Malfoy, some things are impossible."

He leaned slightly towards her. "So you don't believe me."

"It's not that—"

"You don't believe me," he said in a cool voice, his eyes focused on her.

"Well—"

"Granger," he said, clearly irritated.

She sighed. "Fine, I don't believe you. It sounds like a load of bogwash. What supports your theory, Malfoy?"

He stood up suddenly. "Are you blind, Granger?" he spat out, pacing up and down in front of her. "Have you not seen the many absurd things that have been happening around us? That have been happening to us?"

Hermione felt the urge to stand up as well. So she did. "In case you haven't noticed, Malfoy, a lot has been on my mind, so excuse me for being blind to other insignificant things!" she half yelled.

Malfoy shot a quick look at the door, then back at her. "Shut it, will you? Your father might be asleep."

Hermione waved his sentence off with her hand. "What did you mean about things happening to us?"

"So now you're all eager to know?" His pacing had stopped, and he had come to a standstill in front of her.

She crossed her arms over her chest, waiting.

He sighed, and his gaze dropped briefly to her lips. Hermione felt incredibly awkward. "Granger, you said it yourself. Your lips are redder than they ever were—" Hermione cleared her throat self-consciously when he said this. "—And remember when I told you that your hair was black? No more brown like how it used to be? It's still black, Granger," he finished off in a rush. Hermione reached up to touch her hair. "You look almost exactly like Snow White, yet you still look like Hermione Granger."

"But internally I haven't changed," Hermione argued quietly, still fingering a lock of her hair.

Malfoy was staring at her hair in her fingers as he said, "That's what I meant about face value. The book doesn't say anything about personality. It's a given that Snow White is a sweet girl. And you're...well, at times you can be fiery, but you can ... be s-sweet other times, as well," he ended off jerkily. He looked unsure about what he had been saying, yet Hermione could hear the sincerity in his words.

Before she could mutter a 'thank you', he carried on, "Point is, things are changing. I mean, look at me. I had never been this ... built before." Hermione automatically dropped her gaze to look at his stomach muscles.

"You have, though," she said without thinking.

His eyes flashed briefly. "Sorry, what?"

"Nothing. You were saying?" she said, trying to get off the subject. The last thing she needed was for him to have his belief of her being infatuated with him confirmed.

"No, tell me," he insisted.

She rolled her eyes. "I said that you have been, in your words, 'built' before," she said, trying to sound offhand.

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Really?"

"Yes," she said, grudgingly.

"When?" he sounded genuinely interested.

"Bloody hell, Malfoy, I can't remember. It was fifth year, I think. And you were swimming in the Black Lake."

His eyebrows were raised. "I thought you said you didn't remember."

Hermione mentally cursed herself for even remembering. "But then I did. Now let's move on," she said.

He had a full smile on his face now. "Why were you looking in the first place?"

"I don't know," she snapped. "Stop grinning, it's annoying."

"Is it really that annoying?" he asked, his grin still gracing his features.

It wasn't annoying at all, but he didn't have to know that. "Extremely," Hermione said grumpily. "I think I liked it better when you were sad and depressed."

Her words wiped off his grin immediately, and she instantly felt horrible. "Sorry, Malfoy, I didn't mean—"

"Everything around us is changing," he cut across her, blatantly rejecting her apology. She felt stung, but paid attention to what he was saying. "If you noticed yesterday, Weasley's height was like that of a dwarf, and he was looking bloody annoyed. Also, McGonagall told me that he got the part of Grumpy...the dwarf." Hermione absorbed this, and she nodded.

"Hypothetically, seeing that I play Snow White, what is going to happen to me? Hypothetically, that is," she added. She hoped he wouldn't guess as to what she was exactly asking.

"Hypothetically, Granger?" he repeated. "There is no 'hypothetically' about it. This is real. This is happening."

She hesitated.

"I know you don't believe me yet, but what I hope that my next few words will convert you," he said. He stepped closer to her, and in a gentler tone, he asked, "Do you remember what happened to the Queen?"

"She died," Hermione murmured.

"And then do you remember what happened shortly after that?" he asked in the same soft tone, staring at her intently.

"The King remarried," she said softly, things slowly clicking into place.

"Granger, what happened to your mother?" he asked really quietly. It was just above a whisper.

"She died..."

"And what is your father planning on doing?"

"On remarrying..."

He didn't say anything. He didn't have to. She understood now. Even though he had left out many details, she understood. She gasped. A delayed reaction.

She walked forward slowly, and held him. She didn't care if he didn't like body contact. He would have to deal with it. Because right now, she needed this. "Dear Merlin," she whispered into his neck. She noticed how rigid his frame had gone. She noticed that he had stopped breathing altogether.

But she ignored it all, and held him tighter, breathing in his calming scent. She really needed this. Or else she'd faint. Her arms were around his neck and she was just breathing in and out, in and out, in and out...

She could hear his heart thudding. Was he that uncomfortable? She pulled away, deciding that she'd stretched it out long enough. When she pulled away, his body visibly relaxed, and again she felt stung. She brushed it off, and sank to the floor. "Sorry, I needed it," she said to the carpet. She didn't bother looking up. She knew that he was taking time to control his emotions.

Not long after, he sat down too, directly across her. She raised her head. "So what are we going to do?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, looking down at the carpet. His fingers trailed over a pattern.

"So everything is definitely going to happen, then?" she asked, hoping he would say no.

He just nodded.

She took a moment. Then, "So that woman my father mentioned, Gladys Winter ... she's going to be the evil step-mother?"

"Mm-hm," he said. It came out like a hum.

"And we can't prevent their marriage from happening?" she asked.

He looked up slowly. "There is nothing in the book that can be prevented," he said quietly. There was more in his words than he was letting on.

"But we can do something to stop her," Hermione said firmly.

"What do you mean?" Malfoy asked.

"My father obviously has been charmed into thinking that he must marry this woman. The potion must have been mixed into those biscuits. So, he is completely vulnerable to whatever she does. She is a witch, after all..."

"So what are you suggesting?"

"We cast a permanent Shield Charm over my father. It shouldn't be that difficult," Hermione said, determined.

Malfoy looked surprised. "Granger, we leave tomorrow evening. How do you propose we do this in just a day?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You obviously don't trust anyone but yourself. I'm going to owl Professor McGonagall, requesting instructions. You said that you almost convinced her, so it shouldn't be a problem."

Malfoy nodded his head slowly. "That's all good, Granger, but what about all the other bits in the book? No matter what we do, everything in the book has to happen, whether we try to prevent it or not..." he trailed off, and broke his gaze away from Hermione's. "That includes the poisoned apple, your death, and..." he stopped.

Draco couldn't bring himself to say the rest of the sentence. He wouldn't look at Granger.

"And the marriage," she whispered.

He flinched. There was no need to say it out loud, for Merlin's sake! He cleared his throat, and said in strong voice, "But by that time, I would have found out the solution to the problem, and a way in which to reverse everything."

He could feel her gaze on him, but he didn't return it. He toyed with the carpet, leaning his head against the bed.

"There's no 'I' in this, Malfoy," she said, her voice going a little high.

Draco closed his eyes. "And why not?" he asked.

"Because this is my life, too, you bloody idiot! You can't figure it out all by yourself—"

"And why not?" he asked, cutting across her hot temper-ridden words.

"We need to do this together, Malfoy. We need to work as a team. I am the most affected—"

Draco let out a short, humourless laugh, his eyes still closed. He could hear her fuming.

"Malfoy, it's called Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, not Prince Charming and the Seven Dwarves." It was obvious she was battling to control her anger. The girl just couldn't control herself.

He swivelled his head around to face her, and opened his eyes. "I don't like the idea of working in a team," he said softly.

Her dark brown eyes narrowed, and she replied thinly, "You better start liking it, then. There's this Muggle saying, 'two heads are better than one'. If we work together in solving this, then we can prevent a whole torrent of things from happening." The corners of her mouth lifted up in a polite smile. "So are you in, or out?" Her eyes searched his, delving deep for the answer. Draco didn't think she'd find anything. He had mastered the art of concealment.

He shook his head.

"Please," she whispered. She was looking at him really intently, and Draco wasn't too sure what made him do it, but he nodded.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

His lips twitched. He was going to regret this.

"I'm going to owl Professor McGonagall now, then. For instructions on that Protection Shield," Granger said. A yawn escaped her mouth, and she lifted up her hand to glance at her watch. Draco raised his eyebrows. He thought that he was the only one to sleep with his watch. The girl sighed, and her hand dropped heavily to the floor. "It's two, and I have to be up in four hours to help with ... funeral preparations..." she trailed off, and Draco looked away. She was getting sad again.

"You go sleep," he found himself saying. "I'll owl her."

"No, it's okay. I can do it," she replied. But she still sounded so unbearably sad. Draco couldn't handle it.

"I insist," he insisted, looking back at her. He held his breath, and pulled her up by her arm. Her eyes widened. He ignored her obvious surprise. "Now sleep," he ordered, once they were both standing up.

She smiled a small smile, and began to untie the waistband on her gown. Draco clenched his jaw. Once the waistband had come undone, she pulled the gown off, and handed it to him. "Thanks," she said. He nodded stiffly, taking the cotton garment into his hands. He refused to look at her. He wouldn't look at her. In fact, he would look at the photographs on the wall.

"Well, goodnight," her voice came from somewhere to his right. He nodded again, and took it as his cue to leave. Once he was in the passage, he breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't looked at her! He raced to his room, but just before he turned the corner, he couldn't stop himself from looking back at her door.

The funeral went off smoothly. Granger cried, she offered weak smiles to sympathizers, she offered her support to her father, who seemed only partly disturbed by his wife's death. His attention was partly diverted throughout the ceremony. Other than that minor hiccup, Mrs Granger couldn't have had a better sending off. Granger gad told Draco that her mother wanted to be buried, so that wish of hers was answered. Next to the grave spot, Granger had planted a bunch of bright pink petunias. "She would have liked them," the girl had said through tears as she stared at the mound of soil covering the coffin.

Due to the number of people giving Draco odd looks for not sympathizing with her properly, he awkwardly held an arm around her shoulders throughout the morning. She didn't seem to notice, for which Draco was thankful for. He felt extremely uncomfortable. The other people must have thought they were "an item", or something. Bleugh. Disgusting.

Even as the thought of the two of them together coursed through his mind, he couldn't suppress a shudder. This seemed to alert Granger who was tucked beneath his arm. She looked up at him. "Are you cold?"

"No," he replied a bit too sharply. She looked affronted, but she didn't say anything. He dearly wanted to let go of her and stay several metres from her, but he clenched his jaw, and remained in his position. They were still in the graveyard, surrounded by dozens of strangers. She was staring at her father who was talking animatedly with a beautiful woman. The woman looked oddly familiar.

As Draco watched, Mr Granger brought the woman forwards by the hand, and began walking towards Draco and Granger. Uh oh, Draco thought, sensing Granger tense. "Hold it," he whispered, trying not to move his lips. Granger's father and the woman were fast approaching.

"But if I do something, do not stop me," Granger warned him, not bothering to block the movement of her lips.

Before Draco could reply, Mr Granger and the woman were already by them.

"Darling!" Mr Granger exclaimed, beaming at Granger. To the girl's credit, she didn't return the sugar-coated smile, but instead smiled politely, deliberately not looking in the direction of the woman.

"Dad," Granger acknowledged.

"Hermione, I thought you said that you and Draco weren't together?" her father asked. Draco immediately dropped his arm from around Granger's shoulders, and stepped sideways away from her.

Granger shot Draco a look. "No, we're not together, Daddy."

"You don't have to keep it a secret, dear," her father said, winking.

Draco wanted to laugh, but due to the venue, he couldn't. He saw Granger roll her eyes. "Dad—"

Mr Granger cut across her. "And speaking of secrets, this is Gladys Winter!" he declared loudly, motioning towards the woman on his left. Both Draco and Granger looked at the woman then. Draco looked a bit longer. Gladys Winter was without a doubt extremely beautiful, but there was something about her that seemed familiar. He felt that he had seen her somewhere before. Her violet eyes narrowed when they met his silver ones. Her mouth twitched unattractively, and Draco watched with surprise as he saw a muscle popping in her jaw.

Yes, he definitely knew this woman from somewhere.

"Sorry, but do I know you?" he asked her.

She ignored him, and turned her attention towards Granger. She reached over to hug Granger; Granger's arms didn't even reach up, they remained at her sides. "You must be Hermione! The girl I hear so much about." She beamed brightly, and her smile looked more like a snarl.

Granger exchanged a look with Draco. Then she said coolly, "Can't say I've heard much about you, I'm afraid."

"Oh!" Gladys gasped, slapping Mr Granger's shoulder lightly. "Your daughter's so funny!" Her eyes flashed dangerously in Granger's direction, and Draco itched to use his wand.

"Yes, she's quite the comedian," Mr Granger murmured. He rubbed his hands together. "Well, Hermione, Draco, I would just like to tell you that I'm marrying Gladys tomorrow. Isn't that wonderful news?"

Draco observed two people: Granger, who was clenching and unclenching her fists. He could tell that she wanted to say something, but they were both expecting this announcement. Then he looked at Gladys Winter, who was looking at Granger intently. She had a sly look in her eyes that Draco didn't like. He was familiar with it. It was a look that he had been taught of how to look at people by a certain someone. Or something. Really, what could Voldemort be classified as? A something, or a someone?

And then it hit him. No wonder she had looked so familiar! No wonder she wouldn't acknowledge him! She refused to even look at him – she was afraid of him recognizing her.

"Yes, it's wonderful news, Dad," was Granger's hard-edged reply. "I wish you both the very best. Unfortunately, I won't be able to make it for the wedding as Mal – I mean, Draco and I have to leave for school this evening."

Draco was still looking at Gladys Winter. Her mouth had flickered when Granger mentioned that they wouldn't be here. He couldn't pinpoint that expression. What was it? Dissatisfaction?

Draco didn't care if he hated it, but he reached down to grip Granger's wrist. "We have to go, Gr-Hermione," he said, injecting urgency into his tone. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Gladys looking at them curiously. Mr Granger didn't seem too bothered. Granger understood his look, and nodded. "Yes, we have that...thing to do," she said. Draco felt like kicking something. The girl wasn't good at acting blasé.

Gladys caught on immediately. "What thing?" she asked, smiling sweetly.

Draco turned to look at her. "Packing. We're leaving in a few hours. Pleasure meeting you for the first time, Miss Winter," he said icily.

Her eyes narrowed. "Pleasure's all mine."

Draco watched as her hand slipped into her pocket, no doubt to grab her wand. He shook his head once, hoping that she'd get the idea. There wouldn't be a need for violence in a graveyard.

She smiled a beautiful, cruel smile. Thankfully, Mr Granger was hugging Granger goodbye during this time. He hadn't witnessed a second of his soon-to-be-wife's temporary lapse in character. Or out.

He turned to face Draco and held out his hand. "Thanks for taking care of my daughter, son. You have my blessing," he said kindly.

Draco suppressed another shudder, and smiled thickly. "Thank you, Sir. Good day."

He held Granger's wrist and the two of them walked to a deserted spot. "Hold on," he warned. Her eyes widened, and she gripped his shirt tightly. He thought of her house, and Disapparated. Seconds later, they were outside her house. She let go of him, and blinked. She waved her wand, and the door opened. They stepped inside. "Why did we have to leave so early?"

He raced up to his room, and he heard Granger following. Sure enough, there was an owl on his table. There was a reason why he had left his window open in the morning. "That woman used to be a Death Eater, Granger," he said hurriedly, as he detached the letter from the owl's leg.

"What?" Granger gasped.

Draco turned around, pity enveloping him. "Yes, I recognized her. And she happened to recognize me, too. Which is why we have to leave as soon as possible."

Her eyes widened. "You're worried for your own life, when my father is marrying an ex- Death Eater?!" she shrieked.

Draco stepped forward towards her, the letter clasped in his hand. "Need I remind you that I also used to be a Death Eater, Granger, and that I haven't tried to kill you?"

"Yes, Malfoy, but that woman is planning on killing me! We have to stay here and fight!" The girl was getting worked up.

He placed a hand on her shoulder. He was actually finding it easier to maintain body contact for more than two seconds. "Granger, please calm down," he said soothingly. "I have here the instructions for the Permanent Shield Charm." He shook the piece of parchment, emphasizing his point.

"Read it," she urged him.

Draco rolled his eyes. What else was he supposed to do with it?

He opened the letter, and read through it quickly. Then, he read through it again. He folded it, and tossed it aside. "Apparently, it works like a normal Shield Charm, yet it needs a stronger spell-caster to make it permanent," he said, surprised.

"Well, aren't we strong enough?" Granger asked.

"That's what I also thought," he admitted. "But according to McGonagall, we're not."

Granger let out a humourless laugh. "But we're the cleverest in our year! Of course we're strong enough!"

"I think that's the point," Draco said. He recapped what the letter said. "Individually, we're fine. Sure we can cast fair spells. But, McGonagall seems to think that combined we would be more powerful. Added to the fact that we're supposed to have a connection—"

"A what?" Granger snapped.

He sighed. "A connection, Granger. The fact that Prince Charming brings Snow White back to life suggests that they have a connection. McGonagall thinks, that if my theory is correct (which I'm sure it is), then we also have a connection."

"That sounds absolutely bizarre," she commented, her eyebrows raised.

Draco nodded. "I know. But it's plausible. So, do you want to try this?"

"What exactly do we have to do?" she asked, glancing at the discarded letter.

"We have to physically connect the parts where magic flows freely from," he said numbly. He knew where these two parts were.

"You mean our bodies?" she asked, tilting her head.

He cleared his throat. "I don't understand why, but yes. Our bodies."

"So either the heart or the mind," she stated. She bit her lip, thinking. So she really was clever. Not many people knew that magic came from the heart and mind. "But seeing that we can't actually connect those, does that mean it's between the...chest and forehead?"

They looked at each other, and together, said, "Forehead."

Draco nodded. Yes, chest-to-chest would be extremely uncomfortable. Even though it would be like a hug...it wouldn't be the same thing. Forehead-to-forehead shouldn't be too bad. Painful, yes. But not too bad. "You know how to do non-verbal spells, right?" he asked.

She just looked at him.

Draco took that as a 'yes'. "Of course you do. We have to focus on the Shield Charm spell at the same time but, because he's not here, we'll have to picture your father very clearly. Our wands will have to be out, and our foreheads touching."

She stared at him blankly. "That's it?"

He shrugged. "That's all she had in the letter."

"But how will we know if it has worked, or not?"

He shrugged again. "I honestly don't know. I've never done this before." He took out his wand, and she mimicked him.

They stood across from each other. Draco took the first step forward, then she. Soon, they were just a few inches apart. He wondered how he should go about doing this. It seemed very...strange. He stared into her dark brown eyes, and she stared into his eyes. When he didn't do anything, she went on her tiptoes. She placed her hands on his shoulders for support, and Draco froze. It took time getting used to this kind of contact.

She noticed. "Malfoy, you need to relax in order for this to work," she murmured. Due to their close proximity, it was pointless speaking in normal tones. "Please," she added.

At first, he didn't accede. He didn't even know why he was doing this in the first place. He wasn't getting anything out of it. But then, something in her eyes – golden flecks of warmth – seemed to reach out to him. He slowly relaxed, his body pulling out of its rigidity.

He reached into his pocket for his wand, and she reached into her pocket for hers, keeping her one hand on his shoulder. He held his wand above his head, and she followed suit. Then, hesitantly, their heads leaned towards each other. He never broke eye contact with her until they finally had to bow their heads against each other, to avoid their noses and lips touching. Their heads touched, and Draco only felt the warmth of her skin against his.

"I'm going to count to three," he whispered, staring at the floor as he had nowhere else to look.

"Mm-hm," came her reply.

"One," he started. "Two," he gripped his wand tighter, and could also feel the pressure on his shoulder from her hand increase. Was she nervous? Or scared that it wasn't going to work? "Three."

Protego! He thought of her father, and he prayed that she had thought of the spell and the image at the same time as he.

Suddenly, his forehead became hotter. A tingling sensation spread from his forehead to the rest of his body. His body felt on fire, and he desperately wanted to break from the contact. Yet, he also never wanted to let go. The power surge felt addictive. Her nails dug into his shoulder. She must have been feeling the same thing. He could feel her slipping – perhaps her knees were getting weak? – so he placed a hand on her waist, supporting her. She slipped back into place, against his head. Gradually, the heat began to fade away, and the tingling sensation soon stopped.

Sparks.

Sparks from their wands cascaded around them.

He slowly drew away from her, and his face felt cold. He looked at her, and her eyes were filled with something he couldn't place. Awe? Wonder? He felt the same way. He hadn't ever experienced such powerful magic that had filled every fibre of his being. It felt magical. Her hand was still on his shoulder, and his hand was still on her waist. He quickly dropped his hand and turned away from her, trying to control his emotions.

"So you think it worked?" he heard her ask. Her words came out in a rush.

"Definitely," he said, staring at his wand. "It definitely worked."

They took a moment to process what had just occurred between them. What had occurred? was the thought running through both their minds. And then, as if by silent mutual agreement, they began to pack their bags, preparing to leave.

-------------------------------------------------------to be continued---------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Hope that wasn't too bad. I had loads of fun writing it. Thanks for all the reviews ... really, THANK YOU