A/N: H'm. I hate not knowing where I'm going with these chapters. Or worse yet- knowing where I'm going and have no clue how to get there! Eek!
What is up with that last bit? How did Draco escape? What did the death eaters do to him? Was that even Draco? We'll see. It's all part of the over-used Plot.*smile* Demands for Ron/Neville and Vincent have been heard and I'm trying to get that to you soon.
Thanks to all you lovelies who offered to beta for me. I got way more offers than I expected. I decided to go with my first two offers: Bella and Nathan. Thanks guys!
Thanks also to Rehanna, panda pinke, miss breed, Prongs, tweety, alexis, Lelio, Lila Marie, Fleur, Tom Riddilpley, Padfootsgirl, Bonnie, Mizery, 7Luna7 (thanks for the translator url), Mystica, Allie, Becks, Rainbow the Liz, Raggona, Kitten greywords, and Cat Samwise.
P.S. Drac's telling this one.
***
I was on the verge of gnawing my own hand off to rid myself of the urge to write to Harry. I tried to keep busy, but there are only so many times you can pace up and down a room before the floor wears thin. I tried reading, but I couldn't focus on the words. I'm on my last resort: staring. Just staring into space trying not to think about what happened between us this year. No, don't think about it. But if I don't write, he'll think something is wrong...No, no, no! That's the wrong train of thought entirely. In fact, there is to be no train. The station is closed. There will be no departures from the platform inside Draco's head!
I could get a quill. I know where they are. I hid them from myself yesterday. Where did I put them? Oh, yes in the pocket of those horrible dress robes mother bought, not like the black ones I had were any better. I retrieved the quills, slamming the wardrobe shut quickly, as if afraid the ugliness of the robes would contaminate the rest of the room. I sat down at the desk and wrote "Harry." Grr, that's not what I wanted to say. I suck at writing letters. I have all these pretty phrases in my head, but give me a quill and some blank parchment and I choke.
Wait, I'm not supposed to be saying anything! I'm not writing to Harry. I already said my good-bye when I gave him the ring. Okay, so it lacked those exact words, but still I made it quite clear that this relationship was over, right? Yes, quite clear, as clear as a brick wall. Anyway, if Lucius knew about the ring... I shuddered to remember the kind of "welcome" I received when I came home for the summer. The only visible trace of that beating was a scar on my leg where the bone had broken through the skin. Lucius's healing spells, never left any scars, unless he wanted them to. He never wanted evidence that he beat his son like a rented mule.
I can't write to Harry. This is for his own good. And mine. If I write, he'll write back. Then I'll have to resist the urge to see him- a struggle that might end with me taking a nosedive off the east tower of the manor. It's better by far that I end this. How can I tell him that it's over? I don't want to write him. How cowardly is that? I can't tell him in person. He'll look at me and I'll forget what it was I going to say and even if I did remember, I wouldn't want to say it.
Even mother has noticed a change in my attitude. She keeps staring at me, eyes filled with worry and self-reproach. Hah! As if any of this is her fault. What could she have done? She couldn't stop him. No one can stop him when he gets like that. No, this one is my fault. Mine and the rat that squealed on me. Don't worry, mother. I'll be alright. I have to live now. L'échange a été fait.
***
Answers? No, darlings. Only more questions. Who do you think told on Draco? What the hell is he going on about?
Any ideas about whom we could set Seamus up with? (Way bad grammar, ending sentences with prepositions) I have a couple, one of which you will so hate me for, but I'm interested in what you guys think.
Luv ya!
J. Silver
What is up with that last bit? How did Draco escape? What did the death eaters do to him? Was that even Draco? We'll see. It's all part of the over-used Plot.*smile* Demands for Ron/Neville and Vincent have been heard and I'm trying to get that to you soon.
Thanks to all you lovelies who offered to beta for me. I got way more offers than I expected. I decided to go with my first two offers: Bella and Nathan. Thanks guys!
Thanks also to Rehanna, panda pinke, miss breed, Prongs, tweety, alexis, Lelio, Lila Marie, Fleur, Tom Riddilpley, Padfootsgirl, Bonnie, Mizery, 7Luna7 (thanks for the translator url), Mystica, Allie, Becks, Rainbow the Liz, Raggona, Kitten greywords, and Cat Samwise.
P.S. Drac's telling this one.
***
I was on the verge of gnawing my own hand off to rid myself of the urge to write to Harry. I tried to keep busy, but there are only so many times you can pace up and down a room before the floor wears thin. I tried reading, but I couldn't focus on the words. I'm on my last resort: staring. Just staring into space trying not to think about what happened between us this year. No, don't think about it. But if I don't write, he'll think something is wrong...No, no, no! That's the wrong train of thought entirely. In fact, there is to be no train. The station is closed. There will be no departures from the platform inside Draco's head!
I could get a quill. I know where they are. I hid them from myself yesterday. Where did I put them? Oh, yes in the pocket of those horrible dress robes mother bought, not like the black ones I had were any better. I retrieved the quills, slamming the wardrobe shut quickly, as if afraid the ugliness of the robes would contaminate the rest of the room. I sat down at the desk and wrote "Harry." Grr, that's not what I wanted to say. I suck at writing letters. I have all these pretty phrases in my head, but give me a quill and some blank parchment and I choke.
Wait, I'm not supposed to be saying anything! I'm not writing to Harry. I already said my good-bye when I gave him the ring. Okay, so it lacked those exact words, but still I made it quite clear that this relationship was over, right? Yes, quite clear, as clear as a brick wall. Anyway, if Lucius knew about the ring... I shuddered to remember the kind of "welcome" I received when I came home for the summer. The only visible trace of that beating was a scar on my leg where the bone had broken through the skin. Lucius's healing spells, never left any scars, unless he wanted them to. He never wanted evidence that he beat his son like a rented mule.
I can't write to Harry. This is for his own good. And mine. If I write, he'll write back. Then I'll have to resist the urge to see him- a struggle that might end with me taking a nosedive off the east tower of the manor. It's better by far that I end this. How can I tell him that it's over? I don't want to write him. How cowardly is that? I can't tell him in person. He'll look at me and I'll forget what it was I going to say and even if I did remember, I wouldn't want to say it.
Even mother has noticed a change in my attitude. She keeps staring at me, eyes filled with worry and self-reproach. Hah! As if any of this is her fault. What could she have done? She couldn't stop him. No one can stop him when he gets like that. No, this one is my fault. Mine and the rat that squealed on me. Don't worry, mother. I'll be alright. I have to live now. L'échange a été fait.
***
Answers? No, darlings. Only more questions. Who do you think told on Draco? What the hell is he going on about?
Any ideas about whom we could set Seamus up with? (Way bad grammar, ending sentences with prepositions) I have a couple, one of which you will so hate me for, but I'm interested in what you guys think.
Luv ya!
J. Silver