Chapter 27: The Breakdown
The winter had been fairly mild this year and was fading faster than usual. It was Friday evening and Ginny made her way through the streets behind Diagon Alley in just a light jumper and a scarf. She switched her bag of groceries – she'd picked up some ingredients for a chicken pot pie on her way over from school – to her left hand and pulled her wand from her back pocket to lower the flat's wards.
"Sorry I'm late, Harry," she sighed as she kicked the front door shut behind her and set the groceries down on the counter. "I have had the worst day. You would not believe the snark I got from Roland Rex today…you remember, the Slytherin Fourth Year?"
There was no answer, and Ginny turned around confusedly. The living room was empty.
"Harry?" she said, heading down the hall and peering into all of the rooms. Nothing. She glanced at her watch – eight o'clock. Her heart began to pound, and she bit her lip hard to still her breathing as she crossed quickly to the fireplace. Harry was sent on short missions during the day sometimes, but when he wasn't on long-term missions, he was always back by six o'clock at the latest. Maybe he had been hurt…maybe something at happened….
"Hermione, where'd you put the leftovers from last night?" Ron's voice filtered to her from the grate as Hermione's face materialized.
"Oh, Ron, I'm going to start dinner in just a second! Can't you wait?" the older girl said. "Hi, Gin!" she smiled, turning to look over her shoulder to Ron. "Ron, it's your sister!" she called. She turned back. "How are you?"
Then she noticed the look on Ginny's face and her smile faded. "Is something wrong?"
"Hermione, I need to speak to Ron," Ginny said quickly.
"What's up?" Ron said, bounding into sight and settling himself down before the fire.
"Harry hasn't come home yet," she said in a rush. "Do you know if he's on a mission…did it go late…something?"
Ron's brow furrowed. "I don't know, Gin…," he said slowly.
Her temper flared. "Ron, I don't care that mission details are secret!" she snapped. "I just want to know where he is."
"Ginny, calm down," Ron replied, fixing her with a stern look.
She swallowed and exhaled heavily. "I'm sorry," she sighed, rubbing her hands over her face agitatedly. "But can you please just tell me if he's on a mission?"
"I really don't know," Ron replied. "I was in the office all day and I didn't hear about him getting any assignments."
Ginny's heart hammered harder in her chest. She didn't know whether to feel better or worse – he wasn't on a mission, but he also wasn't safe at home….
"Although," Ron continued, looking away speculatively, "I don't know anything about the secret mission he volunteered for two weeks ago…they haven't been keeping any of the rest of us in the loop about that one, so he may have been called away and I wouldn't know…."
"What secret mission?" Hermione asked, and Ginny realized it came as a surprise to her too.
Ron exhaled. "I really shouldn't be talking about it…."
"Ron," Ginny said warningly.
"All right, all right. A week ago they asked for volunteers for some new mission. They said they have to keep it really under the radar, so they couldn't tell us anything else." He met Ginny's eyes and flinched a little at her expression. "I don't know anything else, Gin, I swear!"
"The more secret the more dangerous, right?" Ginny said softly.
"You don't know that, Gin," Hermione replied quickly.
"And he volunteered for this?" Ginny continued as if she hadn't heard.
"I tried to convince him not to, Gin," Ron said, "But you know how he is…I couldn't keep him from volunteering for all the others, and I couldn't keep him from volunteering for this one."
Ginny blinked. "All the others?" she whispered.
"He didn't tell you he was volunteering for missions?" Ron said, reddening.
"No," she replied. She could feel a sharp pang of anger clench in a stomach. "No, he didn't. How many has he volunteered for?"
Ron avoided her gaze. "Gin…."
"How many, Ron?" she said sharply.
"Dozens, all right?" Ron answered. "Dozens."
"You're telling me that he's been volunteering to put himself in danger at every opportunity?"
"Oh, come on, Gin," Ron said. "This can't be that big a surprise. Haven't you noticed that he's gone almost twice as much as I am?"
"Of course I have," Ginny said, voice rising. The frustration was rising in her throat now. "And he always said he didn't have a bloody choice!"
"To be fair, Ginny," Hermione cut in, "He probably doesn't feel like he has a choice. From his perspective, if he can help someone, it's his responsibility to do it."
"Bollocks!" Ginny swore. "He knows that every time he leaves on missions all I do is sit in this bloody flat and worry. He knows that it nearly kills me to wonder for days on end whether he's lying in a ditch somewhere injured and alone! He knowsthat! And he's been volunteering? And now he volunteers for some doubly dangerous secret mission that requires him to leave for Merlin knows how long without even telling me he's going?"
"Ginny," Ron said sharply, "You have got to calm down. He's only doing what he feels he has to do. And I'm sure it's something incredibly important. If you just knew what he's doing, if you knew where he is, I'm sure you'd want him to be there…."
"Well that's just it, isn't it?" Ginny said, fixing her brother with a fierce look, "I have noidea where he is. I never do anymore."
Ginny was in a horrible mood for the rest of the week. She didn't want to be this angry, but she couldn't help it. As much as she hated to admit it, she couldn't deal with Harry disappearing without a word of warning. She couldn't deal with not knowing when he would be home and for how long. And she couldn't deal with him volunteering to put himself in danger at every opportunity. The war was over…the endless hours of worry and heartache were supposed to be over too.
A week later, the anger had fizzled into a numb kind of anxiety. Ginny trudged up to the flat and scuffed her shoes on the edge of the top step, adjusting the huge stack of papers in her arms. Thank Merlin for the hours and hours of grading that she would use to distract herself this weekend. She glanced at her watch. Hermione was coming over for dinner…the older girl had been making an effort to spend more time with her over the past few months, and Ginny appreciated it. But she was a little late getting home. She heard the sound of movement inside the flat. She'd told Hermione the password for the wards ages ago…she was probably already starting dinner.
"Hermione, can you just put Ginny on the bloody Floo?"
Ginny froze with her hand on the doorknob. It was Harry. He must have finally Floo'd.
"You told me, Harry. You toldme." Hermione's frustrated voice filtered out through the door and caught her off guard. They were arguing. She hesitated on the doorstep, and the tense conversation continued on inside.
"You told me in Romania that all you wanted was to come home and live a quiet life with Ginny," Hermione was saying, voice rising. "'All I want is to fall asleep with her every night and wake up next to her every morning.' Do you remember saying that, Harry?"
"Of course I do," Harry replied wearily.
"Then what do you think you're doing? You could have that, Harry, and you're letting it slip away. You're losing her!"
"What's that supposed to mean?" he answered sharply.
"She's worried all the time. She has these dark rings under her eyes – I think she hardly sleeps. And you should have seen her a week ago when you disappeared and she found out you've been volunteering for missions! I don't know how much longer she's going to put up with this, Harry."
"I know she's worried, but she never said she was having a really hard time of it…."
"Because you're never here, Harry!" Hermione said loudly, and Ginny could picture her waving a finger accusingly at him. "She's not a little lovesick girl anymore! Seeing you once every month isn't going to be enough for her. She's an adult, and she has adult expectations of you. She's been in a serious relationship, and…."
"Hermione," Harry said warningly.
"No, Harry," Hermione continued determinedly. "I think we all, the three of us, we all underestimated how serious things were between her and Malfoy. He proposed to her, you know."
Ginny inhaled sharply, and there was a long silence on the other side of the door.
"He what?" Harry breathed finally.
"He walked her home from that Ministry event a month ago. It was totally innocent, but I heard the end bit of their conversation. She mentioned a ring."
Ginny swallowed. She'd never told Harry that Draco had been close to proposing to her. This had gone on long enough. Exhaling heavily, she turned the knob and walked in.
"Ginny!" Harry in the Floo and Hermione on her knees before the grate spoke in unison.
Hermione cleared her throat awkwardly, trying to act nonchalant. "Well," she stammered, "I'll give you two a few minutes, shall I?" Giving Ginny's shoulder a quick rub, she headed down the hall and disappeared into the spare bedroom.
When the door shut behind her, Ginny turned back to the grate. Harry smiled tentatively, and she forced herself to smile back. "Are you safe?" she whispered. The only question that mattered these days.
Two weeks later
Ginny sat in her classroom, her feet up on the desk and a book open on her outstretched legs. She glanced at the text and continuing copying it out onto a separate sheet of parchment. She was tidying up next week's lesson plans. Harry still hadn't come home, and she hadn't spoken to him since that Floo call two weeks earlier.
Just then, there was a quiet knock on the door, and a shy-looking First Year poked her head in. "Professor Weasley?"
She glanced up. "Yes?"
"Professor McGonagall wants to see you. She said it's urgent."
Ginny swung her legs down and abandoned her papers on the table to make a beeline for the Headmistress's Office. She climbed the staircase with her heart pounding. These days, anything out of the ordinary made her stomach clench with fear.
"Minerva…?" she said hesitantly. "You asked to see me?"
"Ginny." McGonagall's voice was clipped, and Ginny's eyes slid down to where the professor's hand was clenched stiffly on the top of her chair. That hand told her everything she needed to know.
She held on to her last shreds of calm so she could whisper out a single word. "Harry?"
McGonagall's lips tightened into a thin line and her cheeks whitened. She nodded. "He's still alive, but seriously injured. They're working on him at St. Mungo's." Ginny felt the room swirl around her and she felt a wave of lightheadedness threatening to floor her. She dug her fingernails into her palms and bit the inside of her mouth so hard she could taste blood.
"You should go. I'll have someone cover your classes this afternoon." It was like McGonagall was speaking through a fog, and Ginny nodded blankly. "Use my grate," the professor added. "Your brother and Miss Granger – excuse me, Mrs. Weasley – are already there."
Ginny didn't answer, just moved mechanically toward the fireplace. "Ginny," McGonagall said sharply, and she looked up. "Pull yourself together. Detaching from the situation is not going to help matters."
"I'm sorry," Ginny whispered. She shook herself. McGonagall was right. She stood in front of the fireplace and took a handful of powder, trying to breathe more deeply. She paused. "How bad is it? I want to know…before I walk in there and see him half-dead in a hospital bed."
"I don't know the details," McGonagall sighed, meeting her eyes. "But a rogue Death Eater's curse got through…it was a Blasting Hex. His chest is badly burned, and he was thrown back off a high cliff. Broken legs, ribs, and one arm."
Ginny swallowed and nodded. Then she raised her hand and threw the Powder in the grate. "St. Mungo's," she said clearly, and she was whirled away.
The Floo system disgorged her in a room off the main lobby of the hospital. She strode straight to the front desk. "Harry Potter," she said breathlessly.
The receptionist, a stocky older woman, looked her over speculatively. She narrowed her eyes. "There's no Harry Potter here, miss," she said slowly.
Ginny bit back an angry retort. "I know he's here," she said, keeping her voice low.
"Oh, Winifred, it's Ginny Weasley! She's dating him – don't you read the papers?" a younger receptionist piped up from beside her.
Winifred huffed. "I don't care who she is. I have strict orders not to admit anyone at all, and…."
"Ginny!" She looked up sharply to see Ron mid-stride in the hall behind, a cup of coffee clutched in his hand. He turned sharply to come toward them. "You're here!"
"Where's Harry?"
"Come on, I'll take you. She's with me, Winifred," he added, glancing at the receptionist, who scowled.
"I told you," the younger witch muttered as they walked away.
"How is he? Can I see him?" Ginny asked desperately as Ron guided her, a firm hand on the small of her back, up two flights of stairs and through several sets of double doors.
Ron's expression was grim. "The medi-wizards are working on him. He looked horrible when he came in…barely conscious. I didn't get a chance to speak to him before they wheeled him into a room. They won't let anyone in now. Hermione's near-hysterical. I'm bringing her coffee…snuck some calming draught into it."
Ginny just nodded shortly, feeling a sharp fear rise in her stomach. They passed through a last pair of double doors to see Hermione pacing in front of a set of waiting chairs. She looked up sharply when they walked in.
"Hermione, did something happen?" Ron said quickly, and the panic in his voice made the fear rise so high in Ginny's throat that she felt like she was choking. Oh, Merlin…he couldn't be dead…not like this….
Hermione swallowed and shook her head. "They finished working on him…they said he's stable for now…they said we can go in to see him. But I wanted to wait for you to get back, and…." Hermione trailed off, her breath coming in fast waves, and Ron proffered her the cup of coffee.
"Take this," he said firmly, but Ginny didn't wait to see if she would comply. She strode past them and into the room behind, heart pounding hard in her chest.
The hospital room was eerily quiet. Only the beep of a few machines beside the bed broke the silence. Ginny approached the bed, heart hammering now. He was lying on his back, unconscious, his chest rising and falling shallowly. His torso was swathed in bandages, but she could see from the mottled skin that showed at the edges of clean white cloth that he was badly burned beneath. They must have healed his bones, but his legs and right arm were bruised purple and black. She felt tears rise up in her throat at the sight of him, broken on the bed, and she sank into the single chair by his bedside.
"Oh, Harry," she choked out, laying her forehead down on the edge of his bed. "Please don't do this anymore," she whispered, even though she knew he couldn't hear her, and she let the tears come.
She woke with a sharp pain in her neck, and she shifted uncomfortably, wincing.
"Are you all right?" She straightened quickly to see Harry, propped up in bed by two pillows, smiling gently down at her.
"Harry! How are you feeling?" she said, smiling with relief. He looked exhausted, his face was drawn and pale, but at least he was conscious.
He nodded slowly. "Better," he said. "Aching everywhere, but other than that…," he laughed a little, but winced when the movement reached his ribs. "Come up here," he said softly, patting the bed next to him.
She climbed gingerly up onto the mattress and settled herself down, carefully avoiding his wounds and laying her head down on his good shoulder. They sat in silence for a moment. "Don't you ever do that again," she said finally, smiling drily.
He froze. She had meant it to sound light-hearted, but she realized that after his conversation with Hermione it must have sounded like a reproach.
"Ginny," he said awkwardly. "You know I couldn't…."
A bustling at the door cut him off. "Okay, Mr. Potter, we need to take a look at your burns." The medi-wizard came in followed by a nurse pulling a metal cart. "I'm sorry, Miss," he added, hardly glancing Ginny's way, "but you'll have to leave."
Ginny slid off the bed. "Gin," Harry said, running a hand along her arm as she stood. "We'll talk later?"
She nodded and smiled reassuringly. "Sure, Harry."
"I love you," he added, smiling back.
She paused at that and turned to meet his eyes. "I love you too."
She brought him home four days later. The media had heard about his injury, and though they had decided to transport him late in the evening, the front of the hospital was crowded with photographers and frantic reporters. They pressed their lenses and faces right up against the glass of the hospital entrance as she pushed Harry through the lobby in a wheelchair. He didn't really need it, but was using it as a precaution. They didn't want to risk Floo'ing him home either. There was no telling what the twists and turns of the tunnels would do to his delicate limbs and burns, but she didn't relish facing the crowd.
"Just get past the barrier and side-along him away straight away," Hermione said again as they approached the doors.
"I know, Hermione," she replied.
The older girl nodded. "Good. He should probably go straight to bed. Ron and I will come over tomorrow to see how he's doing, all right?"
"All right," Ginny nodded in acknowledgment.
"Do you hear that, Harry?" Hermione chided, turning to him. "Straight to bed. You know what the doctor said."
"I know, Hermione," he said wearily.
"They can handle themselves, 'Mione," Ron said, shaking his head amusedly.
The guards opened the doors and the lobby was immediately flooded with noise. "Harry! Is it true that you were bitten by a werewolf?"
"Have you sustained permanent injuries?"
"Why the wheelchair, Mr. Potter? Are you paralyzed?"
Ginny rolled her eyes and pushed Harry quickly through the fray. "Bloody reporters," she muttered. She heard Harry chuckle. Finally, when they were past the hospital's Apparition barrier, Harry stood slowly, and gripping his hand hard, she thought of their flat and of the password for the wards.
When she opened her eyes again, they were in their living room, and the sudden silence was deafening. This was the first time they'd been alone since that first night at the hospital. They stood unmoving for a moment, and then Ginny released his hand.
"So should we put you straight to bed? I wouldn't put it past Hermione to come check," she said, keeping her tone light.
Harry laughed a little and he moved slowly toward the bedroom. His legs were healing well, but he was taking it slow. She stood in the living room alone for a moment, and she exhaled heavily. They needed to talk everything out…until they did, everything would be forced and awkward.
"Are you coming to bed, Gin?" he called from the end of the hall. She shook herself. It could wait.
"Yeah," she responded, following him. He was just lying his head down when she entered, and he sighed contentedly.
"I've missed this bed," he whispered, shutting his eyes and smiling.
She flipped the light switch and climbed under the covers beside him. They lay in silence for a moment, and Ginny had just decided that he must have fallen asleep when he spoke.
"I missed you too. You know that, right?" he said softly. She turned to find him looking at her, the intense green of his eyes just discernable in the darkness.
She smiled. "I know. I missed you too."
He snaked his arm toward her under the covers and grasped her hand, squeezing gently. "And I love you."
"I know. I love you too."
He turned his head back to look at the ceiling and she saw him shut his eyes. Ten minutes later, he was asleep.
Some time later, Ginny jolted awake. Hermione had been right; when Harry was gone, she hardly ever slept through the night. She sighed with relief when she realized he was beside her. She supposed her body would have to get used to him being home again. It was still dark out…probably around two in the morning. She scooted over and curved her body against his side, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck.
"Awake?" he whispered softly.
"Mhm," she replied, backing away a little to look at him. "How do you feel?"
"Fine," he said.
"Good." She raised her arms over head and stretched. "Mm…what time is it?"
"Um…nearly three, I think."
"Ugh…we should be sleeping," she groaned. She dusted some light kisses along his shoulder. "You need to get a full night's rest."
He didn't answer for a moment, and she had just leaned up a bit to kiss his lips when he spoke. "I have to leave again…when it gets bright out."
She froze, her face inches from his. "What?" she whispered.
He met her eyes, and she could see the consternation in them. "I promised Kingsley I'd be back on the mission as soon as I was healed."
She pushed herself away from him as if his skin had burned her. "And I'm healed," he continued, sitting up straight. He grabbed his wand from the nightstand and waved it wordlessly – the lamp flickered on and they stared at each other in the harsh light.
"You are not healed, Harry," she stammered. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You've still got bandages wrapped around your torso…you're walking at the pace of a tortoise."
His brow furrowed. "They'll have to brief me on the progress they've made since I've been gone. That'll take a few days. And by then, I'll be in good enough shape for what I need to do."
"And what exactly is it that you feel you need to do?" she cried, unable to keep her voice at a reasonable volume. "Get yourself bloody killed?"
"Ginny, calm down…," he said soothingly. His tone only infuriated her further.
"No, Harry!" she said loudly, pushing herself off the bed. "I can't calm down, and I'm bloody tired of everyone telling me to. You just almost died, do you not realize that?"
His expression darkened. "Of course I know that," he replied sharply. "I think I've been through enough to recognize a near-death experience when I see one, Ginny."
"Then how can you even be considering putting yourself back in danger so soon?" she ranted.
"Because it's my job, Gin!" he snapped back, throwing the covers away from him and standing too. "Kingsley ordered me to come back as soon as I was well enough!"
"Don't you try to pass this off on Kingsley!" Ginny yelled. She knew it was a mistake to yell at him like this – she hadn't wanted this conversation to go this way – but she couldn't keep the pent-up words from pouring out of her mouth. "He hasn't been ordering you to do anything, you've been bloody volunteering!" She pointed an accusing finger at him. "You signed up for this, and you've been signing up for the most dangerous missions possible every since you got there!"
That silenced him for a moment, and she could see him flush. "Did Ron tell you that?" he said lowly.
"Yeah, he did," she said. "I had to hear from Ron that you've been asking to be sent out. That every time I asked you to turn down a mission, to stay home with me and just be with me for more than a day here and there, and you said that you had no choice, you were flat-out lying to me!"
"These missions are important, Gin," he answered, his voice quiet, "I'm out there saving people, people who need me."
"But this," she said back, gesturing between them. "This relationship needs you, Harry. Doesn't that mean anything?" she said back. "Ineed you. I need you to ask me every day how classes are going and I need to know that every night you're going to bed safe. And I don't think that's too much to ask, Harry! I mean, bloody hell," she finished, raising her eyes to the ceiling in frustration, "I just need you to be my boyfriend for more than a day every month!"
She was surprised when his lips set into a hard, angry line. When he spoke, his voice was dangerously low. "Like Malfoy?"
She was taken aback, and for a moment she had no idea what to say. "What?" she finally managed to breathe.
"Well?" he scoffed. "That's what this relationship isn't living up to, isn't it? That's what I'm not living up to? Him? Hermione told me you saw him, and that he proposed to you before. You never told me that, Ginny."
"What?" she breathed again, anger lacing into her voice. "We are not bloody talking about me and Draco, Harry Potter! I didn't tell you about the ring because he didn't bloody propose! He was going to, but then he cheated on me. So no, I didn't tell you because it wasn't relevant, just like it's not relevant now!" she said, her voice rising back to a yell. "And this isn't about living up to anything! This is about you and me! This is about you having to be here for there to be a you and me!"
"I thought you knew what you were getting yourself into, Ginny!" he yelled back. His cheeks were red, his voice pounded against her eardrums. He was angrier at her than he'd ever been before. "You were perfectly happy to be with me when everything was happy and sunny at Hogwarts, but as soon as the going gets tough, I'm not good enough for you anymore! And it was the same in Sixth Year. You're happy to be my girlfriend at school when there's no danger and no bumps in the road, but as soon as things get scary, you run off with Malfoy. It's all excuses, Ginny. At the end of the day, you're the one who gives up on us!"
Her breath caught in her throat and her chest immediately flooded with anger. She crossed the room in two strides and without thinking, slapped him hard across the face.
"How dare you," she spat. "I waited for you, for ages and ages, Harry. Damnit, I feel like I'm always just waiting for you! And you know what? Do you want to know why we're only ever good together at Hogwarts?"
"Yeah, why don't you explain that, Gin," he snapped. His cheek was turning pink, and she knew it must be stinging, but he didn't raise a hand to it. He just stared at her, his eyes dark and challenging.
"Because when you're not tied down – when you don't have to be there as a student or as a professor – when you don't haveto be with me, then the whole rest of the world is more important!" She fell silent, breathing hard.
He didn't answer for a long time, and they stood there, the words filling the space between them so that she felt claustrophobic.
"Don't you understand what this is doing to me?" she whispered finally, and now she could hear the edge of pleading in her voice. Waiting and waiting all day every day, hoping you'll come home? Seeing you barely alive and covered in bruises on that hospital bed?" She felt a pricking at the corners of her eyes and she pressed the bases of her palms against her them, as if she could physically hold the tears in. When she looked up, she could see that this was hurting him. His brow was furrowed and his jaw was set. "I could get through it if I thought there was going to be any end to it, but Merlin help me, Harry, I can't do this my whole life." Her voice hitched on the last words, and the sound seemed to force him forward.
His arms encircled her. "Oh, Ginny…," he murmured, pulling her against him. Her body heaved a little at his touch, and the tears came in full-force, racing down her cheeks and soaking into his shirt. They sank onto the bed, her body shaking, her face pressed against his chest, and his lips buried in her hair.
They sat there in silence, his arms around her, for a long time after her sobs had subsided. Finally, the early morning light began to filter into the room through the windows, and Ginny had never been less happy to see the sun.
He pulled away slowly and she looked up to meet his eyes, which had morphed back from dark flints into their usual bright green. "So what now?" he said hesitantly.
She swallowed. She knew what she needed to say, but right now the temptation to let it go was incredibly strong. She shook herself. No. She needed to say it. "I can't do this anymore, Harry," she said softly, not breaking their gaze. "But not just I can't. I won't. I won't do it anymore."
He didn't answer for what felt like full minutes, and she found that she was holding her breath. But then he brought his hands up and rubbed them hard across his face, and she felt her heart sink. "I'm sorry, Gin…," he whispered.
"Okay," she said, a little too sharply. She didn't want to hear anymore. She nodded briskly and stood, clenching her hands to keep a fresh wave of tears down. "I'll come back tomorrow and pack up my things," she added, refusing to look at him.
"Ginny," he said. She could hear the pain in his voice, and it made her heart twist in her chest.
But she pressed her nails into her palms and walked determinedly away down the hall and out of the flat. She closed the door behind her and pressed her back against the wall beside it. Her heart was pounding hard, circulating an aching pain throughout her body, but she forced herself to stay standing against the wall. A small, hopeful part of her hoped he would follow her, beg her to stay, tell her for once that she was more important than Auror missions and saving the whole world.
But he didn't.
And after half an hour of standing alone on the doorstep, breathing the cold air deep into her lungs, she went down the stairs and walked away.
Author's Note: Sigh, this was hard to write - I hope it turned out all right. The next chapter will jump ahead quite a bit in time and we'll be getting other POV's (besides Ginny's) which I'm very excited about. Also, Draco will be back in full force. So I'll get that up as soon as possible. In the meantime, please review and tell me what you think! But please be nice! I totally respect if you've stopped enjoying the story or have decided to stop reading or have other concerns, but I would appreciate if you could let me know in a constructive, non-mean-spirited way, please :) I'm always trying to improve my writing, so constructive criticism is very welcome :) And, of course, if you're liking the story, I love hearing from you too!