A/N: Okay, okay, here's the FREAKING CHAPTER. A lot of you were pressuring
me to update this, which really isn't appreciated. I even got a four or
five e-mails... please, don't harass me for a chapter. It comes when it
comes, and it's only been a couple weeks. I have had some favorite stories
of mine not be updated for a month. I really don't like that, so stop.
You'll notice my frustrations were vented in this chapter (DON'T
CHUCKLE!!!).
With that being said, let's focus on the actual story. Keep in mind that I have to stretch this out for nineteen more hours, set-up for the gala won't begin until at least ten a.m. and it won't start till four, so be patient for action and dramatic plot twists. You may find these next few chapters boring. And you won't get much more information about Voldemort's big Sheryl Crow-less plan for a little while. Patience, my friends. Yep.
Okay, so, if you live in the USA, pick up the September issue of "ym." There's a story in there called "In the Blazer," and it made me cry. Powerful, amazing stuff. And this is coming from the girl who didn't shed a tear during "A Walk To Remember" --give me a break, I knew the ending. Um, she dies. Oh, so NOW I'm gonna cry...? What bad timing I have, I swear.
Here's the chapter. You demanded it, so cherish it, name it "Mary," and bring it home for your wrinkled parents to coo over until they forget how to speak normal English (or whatever the hell you feel like speaking).
It's short. Live with it. :o)
Disclaimer: Harry Potter, etc, belongs to JK Rowling. I'm in such a bad mood that I don't feel like writing a stupid little corny thing for the disclaimer. That's bad, right? Don't worry, it's not your fault.
I'm off to go write about naked Draco for my 14th chapter of "Even Heroes Have the Right to Bleed." Right.
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"It's all good and well that you made it to the other side," Hermione Granger said impatiently, tapping her bare foot against the concrete. "But how do you suggest that we do the same?"
Using all the strength I could muster, I hoisted myself up onto my elbows and shot her a dark look. "Honestly," I drawled, coughing slightly. "The same way I got over, Mione."
"Hey!" Ron said angrily, still gasping for breath. "You can't call her Mione!"
We all ignored him.
"I refuse to break every bone in my body just to... just to..." She looked up at me with crinkled eyes. "What ARE we doing?"
"I was trying to tell you that," I said calmly, "but you were too busy singing, 'Iiiiiiiii wanna soak up the sunnnn, I don't know the words 'cause I... have a life--"
For the love of God, SHUT UP," Hermione groaned, covering her ears with her long, pale fingers. Her adorably bushy brown hair had been tucked absently behind her ears. God, that was cute. I flushed.
"Right," I grumbled, staggering to my feet. "You're skinny. Can't you squeeze through the bars?"
"No," she said nastily. Well, gee, she didn't need to get so defensive. Isn't skinny a good thing with girls? Consider me clueless.
I shrugged. "Well, then, climb up on Wonder Bread's shoulders and jump over."
"Don't you mean Wonder Boy?" Harry asked innocently.
"If you insist that I call you that--just remember, you said so."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Because that worked so well for you, I see."
Again, I shrugged. "I'm over here, aren't I?"
Harry chuckled. We all stared at him like he had just jumped to his feet and declared his deep sexual feelings for Mother Theresa. "What?" I snapped. Really, was it a chuckling mood? Maybe an unnerved boom of laughter or a shrill giggle, but really--chuckling? Way to kill a murderous mood, Potter. Chuckling... pft.
ANYWAY.
"You two," he CHUCKLED, folding his arms across his chest in a manner that I found rather obnoxious. "Continue with that petty bickering."
I raised an impish eyebrow. "You call it bickering, I call it sexual tension."
Hermione nearly fainted. "What?!"
I would have chuckled, but this aforementioned form of laughter was NOT appropriate for this situation. SO WHY WAS HARRY CHUCKLING?
Okay. I'll admit it. At this point, I was losing it. My mind was beginning to go, but honestly--can you blame me? Look at what I have to work with here! Sheryl Crow crooning, nearly passed out, irritable Ron; aghast, pissy, suspicious (but angelic--c'mon, she's gorgeous!) Hermione; and then GODDAMN CHUCKLING HARRY. I'm sorry, I had to get that out of me. Deep breath time. In. Out. In. Out. We're still talking about breathing, you stupid, chuckling perverts. Perverts. Chuckling perverts. If there's one thing I hate, it's chuck--all right, fine. Enough of my little woes.
"Sexual tension?!" Hermione cried out. Did she have to look so horrified?
"What," I said calmly, "you weren't aware of the romantic strain between us?" I feigned mock hurt. "And I thought it was mutual." Actually, it kind of did hurt. This confused me.
"Malfoy," she said disdainfully--she was the only one who could say my name like that. So... hatefully. Damn.
"Fine, whatever." Does sounding like I don't care help me care less? I wish. "But how else do you suggest getting on this side of the gate?"
"Magic," Ron said loudly and slowly.
"I don't have a hearing aid, Weasley," I said dryly. "Although let's chat about all of the other impairments I have from when Draco Malfoy had a great fall."
"All of the horses and all the king's men -- " Hermione giggled.
"--couldn't put Draco Malfoy together again," Harry finished proudly, and they broke down laughing. I could only blink; Ron's reaction mirrored mine.
"Riiight," I said, scrambling backwards a step. "And I thought the Sheryl Crow impressions were bad."
"We all did," Hermione said grimly, her laughter letting up. She turned to Harry. "Help me up."
Harry shook his head firmly. "No way. Look what happened to Malfoy."
"I'll be fine, Harry, really."
"And doesn't it make you feel safe to know that I'll be on the other side to catch you?" I smirked.
"Maybe it isn't such a good idea," she said to Harry.
"C'mon," I moaned. "Joke. Ha. Ha."
"Fine," she grumbled, and she stepped onto Harry's hands. My heart skipped a beat as she wobbled--and then regulated as she grabbed on to the top of the gold gate and steadied herself. She parted her legs over the top bar; okay, that must have hurt me a lot more than it did to her. She winced anyway. Wussie.
"Draco," she said with urgency, swinging her other leg over. She teetered, sitting on the top bar. "Can you get me down?"
I stared up at her. "I can't reach that high."
"You're over six feet!" she cried shrilly. I disguised my panic--however, Hermione didn't even try to.
"Just stay still," I said slowly through gritted teeth, watching her begin to flail. "Calm down! The highest I can reach is your ankles."
An unrecognizable noise escaped from her throat. Well, it definitely wasn't a yawn, I can promise you that much. "Just... just stay calm, okay?" I will not panic, I will not panic, I will not panic, I will not panic, I will not panic. Wow, repetition really wasn't working. "Hermione," I said, clearing my throat uncomfortably. "Jump."
"What?!" She seemed to want to give me a hideously frightened look, but she wouldn't tear her eyes away from her hands on the bars. She'd shoot an occasional nervous glance at the ground, of course, but that was the exception.
"I'll catch you," I said steadily, trying to convince her with my tone. "I promise. I'll catch you. Trust me."
Harry spoke from the other side. "Trust you? There's a better chance of the Dark Lord adopting her to be his beloved daughter and decorating her bedroom in frilly pink sheets and curtains."
"Harry," Hermione said testily. She nervously glanced at me. "Promise, Draco?"
I took a deep, shaky breath. "I promise."
She smiled a very odd smile and then yelled, "Here we go!" I felt like I should call out a protest, but I didn't. I glued my mouth shut. And without another word she bounced off of the rail and flew through the air.
Her white nightgown billowed up as she fell like an angel from heaven. I almost forgot to catch her--I was too mesmerized by the fallen angel. ^DRACO! PUT YOUR ARMS OUT!^ cried my inner voice. Oh, right.
Three steps to the left, one forward, two back, arms out; she landed in my arms like you might hold a toddler, and I stammered backwards. She was light, but it was still a struggle for me to not fall down. Keeping my stance, I turned to place my back against the gate to steady myself.
"Draco," she breathed as we panted for breath. "You can put me down now."
Two pink circles appeared on my cheeks. "Oh. Right." I carelessly let her slip from my hands. She barely landed on her feet.
"Well, you did catch me," she said uneasily, trying to compose herself. The nightgown fluttered against her bare ankles. "And then you just nearly dropped me."
"You said to put you down," I tried, raising one of my shoulders up and letting it slump back down. "But, uh, new problem."
Ron crooked an eyebrow. "What's that?"
"You," I said.
"Me?"
"Uh huh," I said nonchalantly, twiddling my thumbs and turning to face him through the bars. Harry stood a few yards back.
"Why am I a problem?" Ron asked begrudgingly, folding his arms defensively.
"Well," I said, "besides the obvious..." Ron glowered at me. "You both can't get over the gate. And we can't leave Harry alone, or really you either for that matter."
"So..."
"So what?"
"So how are we going to do this?"
"Weasley," I snapped. "I don't have time for a nonsensical conversation."
He glared. "And yet you have time to look up Hermione's dress."
I smiled smugly just to irritate that red-faced git. "It's a nightgown."
Hermione pinched me. "You... you pig!"
I shrugged. "I guess that's an improvement from 'you evil Death Eater,' right?"
"Now's not the time to be optimistic," Harry said flakily, taking an awkward step forward. "Are you trying to tell us that we have to stay behind."
"For now," I nodded.
"No way!" Ron spoke up immediately, still sending daggers in my direction. "I am--we are--we're not leaving Hermione with... with him!" he sputtered, jerking his thumb in my direction.
"I can take care of myself, Ron, thank you," Hermione said haughtily, sticking her nose in the air.
"All right then," I said, beckoning down the path to the doors. "Let's go."
"Hold on a second," she cut in, waving a dismissive hand at me. "I didn't say I was coming with you."
"But you just said--"
"Fine, I'll come," Hermione said, leaving me to stare confusedly at the brunette as she stomped ahead. Watching her go, I looked back helplessly to Ron and Harry. They seemed just as confused.
Girls.
"Wait!" I called before shooting Harry and Ron one last desperate look, and ran off after Hermione Granger. She barely gave me a look as she went to throw open the double-doors.
"NO!" I plunged my hand forward and slapped her hand away. The quizzical look she gave me was priceless, and I forgot to blink. "You can't just pull the doors open. There are charms everywhere."
"Oh," she said. The smartest student in our graduating class blushed a faint pink. "I suppose I should've known that." I nodded dully. "So, how do we get in?"
I fumbled for my wand out of my jacket as an answer and tapped it on the handles. "Expositus," I said loudly, staring expectantly at the handles. Nothing happened.
"What's going on? It's freaking me out," Hermione whispered out of the corner of her mouth.
I made a slight shrugging motion. "It senses your fear," I hissed.
"What?!"
I rolled my eyes. "You heard me."
"Are you joking?" Her eyes opened wide, incredulous. I shifted to look at her out of the corners of my own.
"I'm not sure," I whispered, still wary of the doors. "They should have opened."
"Try again." She nudged me.
"Expositius." Again, nothing happened. Not even a toad appeared. "Maybe my wand's broken. Hermione, give me yours."
"I was kidnapped. I didn't get to take my wand," she said disdainfully. I gulped.
"Right. Well, I'll try it one more time."
"Go on," she said impatiently. I stared at the doors. Something was wrong.
"Expositus," I said, and something did happen. The doors flew open, but not from my wand. There stood four tall, hooded figures in the doorway. Two still had their hands on the door from pushing it open. I took a step back, and reached for Hermione. Grasping onto her limp forearm tightly, I fixed my dropped jaw and stared defiantly at where their faces should be.
"You can't stop us!" I said, trying to hide the quaver in my voice. I wondered if I was even the tiniest bit convincing.
"What ever are you talking about, Son?" rang a cold, clear voice from behind the Death Eaters. With a drawling smile lining his thin lips, my father stepped out from the 'Eaters and stood before me and Hermione.
Hermione gasped. I clutched her tighter. I turned around wildly, and was only mildly relieved to see that Harry and Ron had dove to hide behind the sculpted shrubbery. "Draco," Hermione quivered beside me.
"Why, Miss Hermione Granger," Lucius Malfoy drawled, towering over us from the front door's ledge. "Welcome to the Manor." He turned to me, and opened his mouth to speak when he stopped abruptly and stared at my wrist.
"My son," he said. "What was that?"
I jabbed a finger at my wristwatch. "Well, Daddy dearest," I said bitingly, feeling my fingers go white against Hermione's skin. "That's a watch."
"Why did it beep?"
"It's five a.m." It hit me. Five a.m. Five hours down, nineteen to go. I would've fainted, but there was no way I could leave Hermione alone to deal with my father and his gang of Death Eaters. Instead, I gritted my teeth and looked into his eyes. They were bluer than mine. "What do you want, Father?"
"Step inside," he invited with a greeting smile. He swept his arm at the entrance. "Let's chat."
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A/N: OKAY, so it's a little shorter than it should be. But that's all I could do. And I realize that that would not take an hour, but oh well. Sorry that I'm being a bitch right now, it's been a long week for unknown reasons.
Yeah. Thanks to all reviewers. You guys kick arse. I'm bored. I start high school in four days, and I'm beginning to get nervous. I can't imagine it being easy to be a freshman. Oh well... See ya guys later.
Adios~Escritora
With that being said, let's focus on the actual story. Keep in mind that I have to stretch this out for nineteen more hours, set-up for the gala won't begin until at least ten a.m. and it won't start till four, so be patient for action and dramatic plot twists. You may find these next few chapters boring. And you won't get much more information about Voldemort's big Sheryl Crow-less plan for a little while. Patience, my friends. Yep.
Okay, so, if you live in the USA, pick up the September issue of "ym." There's a story in there called "In the Blazer," and it made me cry. Powerful, amazing stuff. And this is coming from the girl who didn't shed a tear during "A Walk To Remember" --give me a break, I knew the ending. Um, she dies. Oh, so NOW I'm gonna cry...? What bad timing I have, I swear.
Here's the chapter. You demanded it, so cherish it, name it "Mary," and bring it home for your wrinkled parents to coo over until they forget how to speak normal English (or whatever the hell you feel like speaking).
It's short. Live with it. :o)
Disclaimer: Harry Potter, etc, belongs to JK Rowling. I'm in such a bad mood that I don't feel like writing a stupid little corny thing for the disclaimer. That's bad, right? Don't worry, it's not your fault.
I'm off to go write about naked Draco for my 14th chapter of "Even Heroes Have the Right to Bleed." Right.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"It's all good and well that you made it to the other side," Hermione Granger said impatiently, tapping her bare foot against the concrete. "But how do you suggest that we do the same?"
Using all the strength I could muster, I hoisted myself up onto my elbows and shot her a dark look. "Honestly," I drawled, coughing slightly. "The same way I got over, Mione."
"Hey!" Ron said angrily, still gasping for breath. "You can't call her Mione!"
We all ignored him.
"I refuse to break every bone in my body just to... just to..." She looked up at me with crinkled eyes. "What ARE we doing?"
"I was trying to tell you that," I said calmly, "but you were too busy singing, 'Iiiiiiiii wanna soak up the sunnnn, I don't know the words 'cause I... have a life--"
For the love of God, SHUT UP," Hermione groaned, covering her ears with her long, pale fingers. Her adorably bushy brown hair had been tucked absently behind her ears. God, that was cute. I flushed.
"Right," I grumbled, staggering to my feet. "You're skinny. Can't you squeeze through the bars?"
"No," she said nastily. Well, gee, she didn't need to get so defensive. Isn't skinny a good thing with girls? Consider me clueless.
I shrugged. "Well, then, climb up on Wonder Bread's shoulders and jump over."
"Don't you mean Wonder Boy?" Harry asked innocently.
"If you insist that I call you that--just remember, you said so."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Because that worked so well for you, I see."
Again, I shrugged. "I'm over here, aren't I?"
Harry chuckled. We all stared at him like he had just jumped to his feet and declared his deep sexual feelings for Mother Theresa. "What?" I snapped. Really, was it a chuckling mood? Maybe an unnerved boom of laughter or a shrill giggle, but really--chuckling? Way to kill a murderous mood, Potter. Chuckling... pft.
ANYWAY.
"You two," he CHUCKLED, folding his arms across his chest in a manner that I found rather obnoxious. "Continue with that petty bickering."
I raised an impish eyebrow. "You call it bickering, I call it sexual tension."
Hermione nearly fainted. "What?!"
I would have chuckled, but this aforementioned form of laughter was NOT appropriate for this situation. SO WHY WAS HARRY CHUCKLING?
Okay. I'll admit it. At this point, I was losing it. My mind was beginning to go, but honestly--can you blame me? Look at what I have to work with here! Sheryl Crow crooning, nearly passed out, irritable Ron; aghast, pissy, suspicious (but angelic--c'mon, she's gorgeous!) Hermione; and then GODDAMN CHUCKLING HARRY. I'm sorry, I had to get that out of me. Deep breath time. In. Out. In. Out. We're still talking about breathing, you stupid, chuckling perverts. Perverts. Chuckling perverts. If there's one thing I hate, it's chuck--all right, fine. Enough of my little woes.
"Sexual tension?!" Hermione cried out. Did she have to look so horrified?
"What," I said calmly, "you weren't aware of the romantic strain between us?" I feigned mock hurt. "And I thought it was mutual." Actually, it kind of did hurt. This confused me.
"Malfoy," she said disdainfully--she was the only one who could say my name like that. So... hatefully. Damn.
"Fine, whatever." Does sounding like I don't care help me care less? I wish. "But how else do you suggest getting on this side of the gate?"
"Magic," Ron said loudly and slowly.
"I don't have a hearing aid, Weasley," I said dryly. "Although let's chat about all of the other impairments I have from when Draco Malfoy had a great fall."
"All of the horses and all the king's men -- " Hermione giggled.
"--couldn't put Draco Malfoy together again," Harry finished proudly, and they broke down laughing. I could only blink; Ron's reaction mirrored mine.
"Riiight," I said, scrambling backwards a step. "And I thought the Sheryl Crow impressions were bad."
"We all did," Hermione said grimly, her laughter letting up. She turned to Harry. "Help me up."
Harry shook his head firmly. "No way. Look what happened to Malfoy."
"I'll be fine, Harry, really."
"And doesn't it make you feel safe to know that I'll be on the other side to catch you?" I smirked.
"Maybe it isn't such a good idea," she said to Harry.
"C'mon," I moaned. "Joke. Ha. Ha."
"Fine," she grumbled, and she stepped onto Harry's hands. My heart skipped a beat as she wobbled--and then regulated as she grabbed on to the top of the gold gate and steadied herself. She parted her legs over the top bar; okay, that must have hurt me a lot more than it did to her. She winced anyway. Wussie.
"Draco," she said with urgency, swinging her other leg over. She teetered, sitting on the top bar. "Can you get me down?"
I stared up at her. "I can't reach that high."
"You're over six feet!" she cried shrilly. I disguised my panic--however, Hermione didn't even try to.
"Just stay still," I said slowly through gritted teeth, watching her begin to flail. "Calm down! The highest I can reach is your ankles."
An unrecognizable noise escaped from her throat. Well, it definitely wasn't a yawn, I can promise you that much. "Just... just stay calm, okay?" I will not panic, I will not panic, I will not panic, I will not panic, I will not panic. Wow, repetition really wasn't working. "Hermione," I said, clearing my throat uncomfortably. "Jump."
"What?!" She seemed to want to give me a hideously frightened look, but she wouldn't tear her eyes away from her hands on the bars. She'd shoot an occasional nervous glance at the ground, of course, but that was the exception.
"I'll catch you," I said steadily, trying to convince her with my tone. "I promise. I'll catch you. Trust me."
Harry spoke from the other side. "Trust you? There's a better chance of the Dark Lord adopting her to be his beloved daughter and decorating her bedroom in frilly pink sheets and curtains."
"Harry," Hermione said testily. She nervously glanced at me. "Promise, Draco?"
I took a deep, shaky breath. "I promise."
She smiled a very odd smile and then yelled, "Here we go!" I felt like I should call out a protest, but I didn't. I glued my mouth shut. And without another word she bounced off of the rail and flew through the air.
Her white nightgown billowed up as she fell like an angel from heaven. I almost forgot to catch her--I was too mesmerized by the fallen angel. ^DRACO! PUT YOUR ARMS OUT!^ cried my inner voice. Oh, right.
Three steps to the left, one forward, two back, arms out; she landed in my arms like you might hold a toddler, and I stammered backwards. She was light, but it was still a struggle for me to not fall down. Keeping my stance, I turned to place my back against the gate to steady myself.
"Draco," she breathed as we panted for breath. "You can put me down now."
Two pink circles appeared on my cheeks. "Oh. Right." I carelessly let her slip from my hands. She barely landed on her feet.
"Well, you did catch me," she said uneasily, trying to compose herself. The nightgown fluttered against her bare ankles. "And then you just nearly dropped me."
"You said to put you down," I tried, raising one of my shoulders up and letting it slump back down. "But, uh, new problem."
Ron crooked an eyebrow. "What's that?"
"You," I said.
"Me?"
"Uh huh," I said nonchalantly, twiddling my thumbs and turning to face him through the bars. Harry stood a few yards back.
"Why am I a problem?" Ron asked begrudgingly, folding his arms defensively.
"Well," I said, "besides the obvious..." Ron glowered at me. "You both can't get over the gate. And we can't leave Harry alone, or really you either for that matter."
"So..."
"So what?"
"So how are we going to do this?"
"Weasley," I snapped. "I don't have time for a nonsensical conversation."
He glared. "And yet you have time to look up Hermione's dress."
I smiled smugly just to irritate that red-faced git. "It's a nightgown."
Hermione pinched me. "You... you pig!"
I shrugged. "I guess that's an improvement from 'you evil Death Eater,' right?"
"Now's not the time to be optimistic," Harry said flakily, taking an awkward step forward. "Are you trying to tell us that we have to stay behind."
"For now," I nodded.
"No way!" Ron spoke up immediately, still sending daggers in my direction. "I am--we are--we're not leaving Hermione with... with him!" he sputtered, jerking his thumb in my direction.
"I can take care of myself, Ron, thank you," Hermione said haughtily, sticking her nose in the air.
"All right then," I said, beckoning down the path to the doors. "Let's go."
"Hold on a second," she cut in, waving a dismissive hand at me. "I didn't say I was coming with you."
"But you just said--"
"Fine, I'll come," Hermione said, leaving me to stare confusedly at the brunette as she stomped ahead. Watching her go, I looked back helplessly to Ron and Harry. They seemed just as confused.
Girls.
"Wait!" I called before shooting Harry and Ron one last desperate look, and ran off after Hermione Granger. She barely gave me a look as she went to throw open the double-doors.
"NO!" I plunged my hand forward and slapped her hand away. The quizzical look she gave me was priceless, and I forgot to blink. "You can't just pull the doors open. There are charms everywhere."
"Oh," she said. The smartest student in our graduating class blushed a faint pink. "I suppose I should've known that." I nodded dully. "So, how do we get in?"
I fumbled for my wand out of my jacket as an answer and tapped it on the handles. "Expositus," I said loudly, staring expectantly at the handles. Nothing happened.
"What's going on? It's freaking me out," Hermione whispered out of the corner of her mouth.
I made a slight shrugging motion. "It senses your fear," I hissed.
"What?!"
I rolled my eyes. "You heard me."
"Are you joking?" Her eyes opened wide, incredulous. I shifted to look at her out of the corners of my own.
"I'm not sure," I whispered, still wary of the doors. "They should have opened."
"Try again." She nudged me.
"Expositius." Again, nothing happened. Not even a toad appeared. "Maybe my wand's broken. Hermione, give me yours."
"I was kidnapped. I didn't get to take my wand," she said disdainfully. I gulped.
"Right. Well, I'll try it one more time."
"Go on," she said impatiently. I stared at the doors. Something was wrong.
"Expositus," I said, and something did happen. The doors flew open, but not from my wand. There stood four tall, hooded figures in the doorway. Two still had their hands on the door from pushing it open. I took a step back, and reached for Hermione. Grasping onto her limp forearm tightly, I fixed my dropped jaw and stared defiantly at where their faces should be.
"You can't stop us!" I said, trying to hide the quaver in my voice. I wondered if I was even the tiniest bit convincing.
"What ever are you talking about, Son?" rang a cold, clear voice from behind the Death Eaters. With a drawling smile lining his thin lips, my father stepped out from the 'Eaters and stood before me and Hermione.
Hermione gasped. I clutched her tighter. I turned around wildly, and was only mildly relieved to see that Harry and Ron had dove to hide behind the sculpted shrubbery. "Draco," Hermione quivered beside me.
"Why, Miss Hermione Granger," Lucius Malfoy drawled, towering over us from the front door's ledge. "Welcome to the Manor." He turned to me, and opened his mouth to speak when he stopped abruptly and stared at my wrist.
"My son," he said. "What was that?"
I jabbed a finger at my wristwatch. "Well, Daddy dearest," I said bitingly, feeling my fingers go white against Hermione's skin. "That's a watch."
"Why did it beep?"
"It's five a.m." It hit me. Five a.m. Five hours down, nineteen to go. I would've fainted, but there was no way I could leave Hermione alone to deal with my father and his gang of Death Eaters. Instead, I gritted my teeth and looked into his eyes. They were bluer than mine. "What do you want, Father?"
"Step inside," he invited with a greeting smile. He swept his arm at the entrance. "Let's chat."
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A/N: OKAY, so it's a little shorter than it should be. But that's all I could do. And I realize that that would not take an hour, but oh well. Sorry that I'm being a bitch right now, it's been a long week for unknown reasons.
Yeah. Thanks to all reviewers. You guys kick arse. I'm bored. I start high school in four days, and I'm beginning to get nervous. I can't imagine it being easy to be a freshman. Oh well... See ya guys later.
Adios~Escritora