The blond-haired man quickly scrambled to an upright position, fumbling over long robes as he tried to get a vantage point where he wasn't the one who was hindered.
Moving away from the three who seemed to loom closer and closer to him, he nearly tripped the last few feet to the opposite side of the cell. Granted, there wasn't a lot of room for him to go, but being as far as he could away from the three strangers made him feel slightly more at ease.
He didn't recognize the three, the two men and the woman. Vaguely, at the back of his mind he thought he had seen the woman once before, a comforting hand on his face when all the surrounded him was darkness, a soothing voice telling him to have hope that relief was coming, that his suffering was almost at an end. He held onto to that, let the words comfort him when all he could feel was the burning and the searing pain being inflicted on his body, using them to guide him, to keep him from slipping into insanity.
"W-who," he wheezed as he tried to breathe, "Who are y-you?"
They were unlike all those he had encountered in his miserable stay at...where ever this was that he was being held at. No animosity, no hate, no dark thoughts that he could just see gleaming in their eyes as they looked at him speculatively. For once he could not feel the waves of anticipation rolling of his captors as they envisioned what they could do to him.
But that didn't stop him from being fearful.
He looked upon the three with wary eyes, ready to escape any harm they might wish to wreak on him, knowing fully well that in such a small space and being outnumbered as he was, he would have nowhere to run.
He watched them as they slowly straightened, careful not to move too suddenly. He felt pleased that they were taking him in consideration but he couldn't allow himself to believe that they were sincere. It had been days since he'd arrive here and not once had he responded to their questions. And they had tried. They tried. But they couldn't get anything but screams and yells and howls of pain from him. Nothing else. Perhaps they had finally realized he wasn't going to tell them a thing and decided a new approach. Either way, he wasn't going to give up. If he had lasted this long, he'd last longer. He was determined not to show any sort of weakness. It was like his father said, "A Malfoy never shows any sign of weakness that another can exploit."
"We're not here to hurt you; we're friends," the black-haired one volunteered as all three of them together made their way closer to him. Draco's eyes widened, looking at them and down on the ground as the space between them grew shorter.
Before he could stop it, a snort of disbelief had slipped out. Right, he thought. They were getting uncomfortably close and he felt his chest starting to heave. He had to do something, now, before he burst. He held his unsteady arms out to stop them. "Th-that's close e-enough, th-thank y-you."
They stopped and he felt his the tightness on his heart subside. He sighed. "N-now," he began again, cursing his stutter that had been gracing his speech for the last few days. "Now, w-who are y-you?"
"Like he said, we're friends," the red-head answered, curling his lips at the word friends.
Draco looked at the man with a new light. From the tone of his voice, it sounded like the red-head didn't like him, but he couldn't remember meeting a man like him. "N-names?"
The woman stepped forward a bit before stopping only a few feet away and he felt himself relax. She was comforting, he could feel it.
"I'm Eloise, this is Harry and that's Ron," she replied, her voice soft.
Draco nodded, acknowledging it. He noticed she had deliberately left out their last names, but that didn't matter too much. He was sure he'll find out who they were exactly when all this was over.
He didn't know what was going on; no one would speak to him, but that was usually typical, from what he had heard his father say before...
His father...
Suddenly, the burst of strength that had come to him after awakening, the one that had given him the energy and the courage to move away from those people whom he'd had no reason to trust, left him as those two words passed through his head.
His father.
Draco half-fell, half-leaned on the wall behind him, sliding downwards as he no longer had the will to stand up any longer. It was just as well -- his legs didn't feel as if they could hold him for a second more.
He was too lost in his own thoughts to even care as Harry and Eloise rushed over to him.
His father.
My father.
He couldn't seem to wrap his mind over those two words. His father. My father. He should have stopped this, he should have, would have, why didn't he? It had lasted too long, too long. They were never supposed to be this long -- four days at the most. Is that what he said? Draco questioned, distinctly remembering the silky voice of his father telling him that this day would come and that it wouldn't last too long.
But he was sure it had been longer than four days. It was hard to judge time in his closed off cell, with no walls and no breaks of daylight lighting the space. The only light was from a torch, off to the side, burning at all hours of the day and night. But it had never bothered him before. I've never had the chance to think about it.
This had been the first time since he had been here that he had been conscious, well and left alone. Usually he would alternate in between being unconscious and being tortured. Tortured, he thought in disgust. He hated to admit he was being tortured. He the only son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, heir to one of the oldest and wealthiest Wizarding families in the world, much less England. They had power, prestige, they do not get tortured.
And his father, whom he trusted not to hurt him too much (he was his son, his only son, after all), wasn't there. He had screamed for him, yelled, cried, and begged when a Malfoy specifically doesn't beg and he didn't come. That was unforgivable.
And that man that had looked an awfully a lot like Vin... He had been there, always when he was awake. The one who was always asking him questions, over and over again, even when most of the time all he would do was stay silent. His voice, his questions would run through his head, long after he had succumbed to the pain. And even if he had wanted to answer, or could for that matter, he wouldn't be able to. All they were about were places he'd never heard of, people he'd never met, events that he hadn't experienced. There were a few familiarities in the questions... Potter for one, that idiot Weasel and his bushy-haired Mudblood friend... His lips twisted in distaste. God, how much I hate those three... he thought in cold anger.
If there was anybody in the world he could think of to channel it was those three. The wondrous Boy Who Lived whom everyone doted over, the stupid, poor Weasel whom said Boy Who Lived would rather be friends with than Draco Malfoy, a boy who's family was practically infinitely richer than the Weasley's and a Muggle born girl who should be in all aspects, lacking, but still manage to get the top scores on exams and assignments. Thinking of those three friends really makes him think of how life was so unfair.
Draco looked up to the concerned eyes of Harry and Eloise. He looked past them to the man called Ron and stared at him. He, Draco was slightly intrigued by. Ron clearly didn't like him, why he wasn't sure. But, he thought with the sight of a new challenge showing itself, I bet it'll fun trying to find out why he hates me...
"I'm fine, I'm fine," he snapped, pushing away at the arms coming at him and feeling a bit claustrophobic. He bit his lip, trying to control the panic. Now that his mind was off his miserable father and he was quite aware of the people crowding him, he could fully feel the anxiety. He struggled onto his feet, trying to get away. His arms and legs were awkward on his body, larger and longer than he'd known and he slipped a bit until he was down to all fours and was crawling away from Harry and Eloise with Ron looking on with a half grin.
He stopped and turned around when he felt he was suitably far enough away and moved to a sitting position. "J-just s-stay away from m-me and I-I'll be f-fine."
He calmed down, breathing in and out in deep breaths, feeling a bit more relaxed as he felt his heart stop trying to jump out of his chest. "Y-you w-weren't s-sent by my fa-father, w-were y-you?" he asked quietly, afraid of the answer and yet, needed to know it.
"No," Harry, his clear and unwavering voice confirming his fears.
Draco nodded, accepting the truth, but his body was still numb and not fully comprehending what that meant. "And...and th-this is not a t-test?"
A flash of confusion marred the man's face, before he would answer. "No," he drew out. "At least not that I know of."
Again he nodded, a reflex action mostly. He exhaled. "No, I didn't think so..." He brought his knees up, holding them close with his arms. He lowered his head and closed his eyes, trying to concentrated on the information given.
This wasn't a test.
My father isn't really here.
I'm being held captive.
And I don't know who I'm being held captive by.
He raised his head, looking at Ron, Harry and Eloise, who were staring at him, but at the same time, trying not to show that they were blatantly staring at him.
I'm in a cell with three people I can't trust.
Yet.
He unfurled his arms from his legs, lifting his hands until they were at eye level. He closed his eyes again, hoping that when he opened them again, everything would be the same as they were before. He opened them again, the same large palm, long, thin fingers staring at him in front of his face instead of his smaller hand, the one he recognized as being his.
Furiously, he blinked away the wetness around his eyes as he looked down on his hunched body, longer, larger, what else can he say about it? It wasn't his body that he was residing in. This isn't mine.
He clenched his hands and lowered them, raising his head to meet the eyes of Harry. Speaking slowly and concentration on his words so his stutter wouldn't impede his seriousness, he said, "What have you done t-to m-me?" Annoyed that he had gotten so close, but lost it at the end, Draco sprung up onto his feet and turned away in what he hoped would be interpreted as frustration.
He quickly wiped at his eyes just once. His father always said, "A Malfoy never cries." He couldn't, he wouldn't cry in front of them. When he felt he was presentable again, he turned around again, his angry eyes demanding answers.
Harry lifted his arms to show that he wasn't a threat. "We haven't done anything to you."
He wrapped his arms around his body, hugging them close. "Oh, I th-think I'm not going t-to b-believe you on th-that. I mean, look-k at me!" He gestured to his body. "Th-this isn't m-mine!" he exclaimed, his voice rose as his panic shoved itself to the forefront.
"Yes it is," Eloise stressed as she pushed closer. She stopped in front of Draco, her hands on either sides of his face as she leaned in close. As much as he felt she was a comfort, she was too bloody close! He fought to control the gut reaction to wrench himself out of her hold and get as far away as he can from the woman. "You just have to trust us, okay?"
After hearing her words, he did wrench himself away. "Trust?" his voice sounded caustic, even to him. "You ex-expect me to t-trust the lot of you? For-forgive me if I don't t-trust you," he sneered.
Ron smiled condescendingly. "Now there's the Malfoy I know." He looked Malfoy up and down. "You really don't know what's going on, do you?"
Draco stilled, the stupidity of a man Ron's age hitting him. "W-would I ask if I didn't?" he asked coldly, deciding he didn't like Ron very much.
And he even had the audacity to shrug as if it never occurred to him. "I don't know, you might. It would be just like you."
"J-just l-like m-me?" he stammered. Is there something I'm not getting? As far as he knew, he had never met anyone like Ron. With the exception of...
Weasley.
He looked up and down the figure of Ron. The dark robes were of quality that was above the Weasely family, but then there were the telltale red hair, the freckles he had seen when the man had leaned close earlier, traits would have screamed a Weasel had he been actually paying attention to the man and not trying to get away from him.
"Y-you w-wouldn't be related t-to Ronald W-weasely, w-would you? F-first year H-hogwarts?" Draco questioned, a sneaking suspicion creeping up on him.
Ron grinned evilly, causing him to pause. "Oh you might say that."
"No! Don't!" Eloise snapped, instantly at Ron's side, but was too late.
"I am Ronald Weasley."
"Oww!" Ron cried out as Eloise hand met his arm. He brought a hand to the sore spot, massaging it as he glared at Eloise.
"You idiot!" she hissed, her eyes dark.
Harry watched the exchange with mild amusement. Sometimes, the interaction between Midgen and Ron was almost comical, a bit like two people who loved to hate the other. Come to think of it, it was a bit like Ron and Hermione in the early beginnings of their friendship...only magnified tenfold. And with Midgen and Ron, there was always a chance that they might actually kill each other. Literally.
Which was why Harry kept an eye on both of them, making sure that both of them don't end up doing something that all three of them would regret. It would not be very good if Ron "accidentally" maimed their only friendly guide to the island and it would be a shame if he lost his best friend "accidentally" while on said island.
But what Ron did just now... He wasn't sure if it was the smart thing to do. Obviously, Midgen had wanted to keep their identities from Malfoy, but Ron just deflated that one idea.
He looked to Malfoy who was doing a pretty credible imitation of a fish out of water. His face looked as if he felt like it as well. With his lips forming silent words that couldn't quite get themselves out and the expression of a man who had just been thrown off-track, Malfoy looked as if he was fully and totally perplexed.
"Wh-what? Wh-who?"
Harry furrowed his brow. This was one complication he didn't need. A confused and most likely explosive Malfoy was something he couldn't deal with, not now. He had tangled with Malfoy for seven years of his life. They had been adversaries on opposite sides of the war for almost that long. Sometimes, he felt he knew Malfoy better than most of his friends.
But you obviously didn't know as much as you thought you did about Malfoy, the little voice inside him pointed out, thinking of all the times he had fought with Malfoy, secure in his belief that Malfoy had a black soul only to find out that for years, they had been fighting for the same side.
"Calm down, Malfoy," Harry tried, moving closer and laying a hand on him. The other man flinched from his touch, sending a shot of pain through his chest. For a brief moment, he wondered about that, but then dismissed it just as quickly. I've never had something move away in fear of me before, he rationalized.
He tried again, determined to make the other man understand that he was no threat to him. "Look," he began, using a soft voice deliberately. "I'm not going to hurt you. They're--" Harry pointed to the satisfied Ron and the upset Midgen, "--not going to hurt you."
"Speak for yourself," Ron muttered just as Harry had opened his mouth to speak.
Harry briefly closed his eyes in exasperation, the imitation of the long suffering hero complete. Sometimes, he didn't need Ron.
Opening his eyes again, he was met with Malfoy's expectant eyes and the figure of Ron, looking innocently as he tried to pretend he didn't say a thing. He slowly opened his mouth, sending a glare at Ron to make sure he didn't interrupt him again. "We're here to help you."
Malfoy crossed his arms across his chest. "H-help m-me?" he asked, his left eyebrow lifting up in question.
"Yes!" Harry stressed, glad Malfoy was finally getting it. It almost seemed that he was beginning to be more comfortable with him present when Malfoy didn't try to move away when he took a few steps closer.
"R-right," Malfoy thought out loud. "You h-help m-me. F-fine. G-get m-me out of h-here," he ordered. "And I w-want t-to know wh-what h-he m-meant about h-him b-being the little W-weasley I know in sch-hool." Malfoy pointed to Ron, who just stared at him. After a few moments, Malfoy shuddered and looked away.
"He's..." Harry floundered, searching his mind trying to think of a suitable answer. "He's..."
"I'm Ron," Ron answered, trying to be helpful. "And he's Harry. Harry Potter. The Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived."
"Ron!" Harry hissed. "Stop that!"
"What? Look at him! Look at him stutter! Look at the great Draco Malfoy now!" Ron laughed gleefully, taking delight in the shock and surprise on Malfoy's face.
With a scream Eloise once again launched herself at Ron, pushing the unsuspecting man down easily. Before Harry could stop her, she had pinned Ron to the ground with her legs straddling his body. Her hands gripping his robe, yanking the man up as she kept on yelling.
"You. Have. No. Right," she yelled, punctuating each word with a shake. "To. Judge. Draco. He's. Done. A lot. More. For. This. Cause. Than. You. Have."
Alarmed at her sudden behavior -- but not particularly surprised -- Harry rushed over to pull the frantic woman off of his friend. His eyes widened at the sight. Ron's head was rolling side to side as Eloise continued to shout. His eyes were frightfully rolled back into his head, showing the whites.
With one last hard yank, thrusting the man up, Eloise threw the body down the floor, the head making an awfully sounding thud. As she got off the man, Harry crouched down, pulling Ron up to a sitting position.
"You okay?" Harry asked the dazed Ron.
Rubbing his head and glaring at Eloise, Ron bit out through clenched teeth. "Fine." He turned his head to Harry. "You could have helped, you know, get the mad woman off of me."
Harry smiled and got up, stepping aside. "Yes," he agreed. "I could have, but I thought you deserved what you got. You could have had more tact."
Ron snorted. "Me? Tact?"
Harry eyes filled with amusement. "Good point." He turned to face the other two occupants of the cell. Draco was looking more shocked, more surprised and even more pale, if that was even possible. It looked as if he had questions to ask, but not sure if he could form and get them out. Eloise had her arms crossed in front of her chest, glaring and frowning at Ron. Big surprise, Harry thought. "Are you two ready to act civilly to each other?"
"As long as the she stays away from me," Ron answered easily. "Yeheh!" he cried out, ducking behind Harry. "She growled at me!" he accused. "With teeth!"
Harry fought the urge to laugh. Glancing over, he could see Draco, whom had been serious ever since he had woken up trying to do the same. For some reason, it made him glad that he had found some mirth in this scene. God only knows what the man -- the boy -- had gone through; it would do him good to get a little humor in his life. Thinking back, he couldn't remember a time when Draco had ever laughed for the sure fun of it. They were never very good friends and most of the time when he was laughing was at the expense of another, but his laughter had never had the full feeling that he meant it. It always had a hollow feeling to it, devoid of true emotion. I don't think I've ever seen him smile genuinely either...
"Okay," Harry began. "I think we all should calm down." He motioned for everybody to sit, dropping down with his legs folded in example. Warily, they all moved to do the same. With Draco hiding on one side, leaning against the wall, scooting away when Eloise tried to sit by him. Watching them closely, he could see the flash of hurt flicker on Eloise's face before it was quickly masked and she moved to sit on the adjacent wall. Ron settled into the space on his right and then they were all seated.
Glancing around the cell, he found it tragic that they were all sitting away from each other, with the exception of him and Ron. Draco had chosen to distant himself from everybody, choosing a spot that was far from all three of them. Eloise clearly wanted to be where Draco was, but when it became clear he didn't want to be anywhere near her, she sat as close as she could from him, while being as far away so that he felt comfortable. And then they both sat relatively away from Harry and Ron. Harry sighed. It was going to take a lot longer than they had for them go trust each other.
"I w-want t-to know what's going on." Draco broke the silence, his face collected. Harry noticed with satisfaction that the stutter seemed to be letting up.
"I know you do. I'm just not sure it's the wisest thing to tell you." Harry sighed. When he saw that Draco wasn't going to relent, he tried again. "Why don't you tell me what you know and we'll fill in the blanks," Harry requested, stalling for more time to think. In the corner of his eye he could see Eloise nodding her approval.
He watched as Draco teetered between wanting to know what had happened and telling his story, biting his bottom lip and looking from side to side. Briefly he wondered if he did that eye thing whenever Draco made a decision. He does look very endearing like that, he mused absentmindedly. Very young...I wonder how long it's been since he's had that innocent quality... If someone had asked him two weeks ago, he would have laughed at the person's face. Draco Malfoy, innocent? It was laughable. Draco Malfoy has never been innocent a day in his life! But now, seeing the indecision dance on his face, and his mouth twisted in a small little frown... Woah! he stopped himself. That was not something he wanted something he wanted to get into. Draco?! Endearing?! Innocent?! He had to stop this train of thought. Now. For God's sake! He's twelve! Disgusted with himself, he curtailed his thoughts. Besides, this really isn't the time to be thinking of your repressed emotions, the little voice inside him told him.
"So?" Harry prompted, determined to keep his thought away from Draco for the time being. "What's it going to be?" He watched as the blond breathed in and out. Finally he lifted his head and gave Harry a slight nod of consent.
"I'm not sure how long I've been here..." Draco began.
"Just do the best you can," Eloise encouraged with a bright smile. "And you've been here for five days, approximately."
Draco frowned, crinkling his eyes as he regarded the woman to his left. The unspoken question was evident in his face. Then his face clear up. "Yes...you're that woman..." he muttered, half to himself as he remembered; the nights where she would lay her hand on his face, his head, mumbling encouragements, much like she was doing now. Giving him a smile when all he could see were hard faces, a little compassion in the mists of nothing but cruelty, indifference... "W-who are you?" he asked in wonder, his eyes wide.
Eloise gave him a small smile. "Eloise Midgen. A...friend."
"The H-Hufflepuff?" Draco asked incredulously. The First Year Slytherins didn't have many classes with the Hufflepuffs, but they had some and he was always good with faces. This woman wasn't that slip of a girl he remembered seeing only months before. "You're not her."
"Yes, I am. Just older. Wiser. A lot less naive about the world but a war could do that to you."
"W-war?"
"Light and Dark, Draco. Good and Bad. Voldemort and...you." Catching the eyes of Ron and Harry she amended her last statement. "Okay, not just you. Potter over there and Weasley. And the ever lovable Dumbledore of course." She slid closer to the man she held in rapture. "You always knew this day was coming. Well, it's here."
Smooth, Harry thought as he looked at the pair. A lot smoother than I could have done it...
Breaking eye contact with Eloise, Draco turned his head away, looking first at Ron. "Ron W-weasley," he announced, almost as if he recognized him. He probably was. Draco quirked a grin. "The Weasel."
"As much as I hate to admit it, but that's right," Ron answered.
He turned to Harry next. "And you're Pott-ter. H-Harry Pott-ter."
Harry gave him a curt nod. "Yep. That's me." He could almost see his mind making the rapid connections as he realized what was.
"H-how old am I?"
Harry shrugged, looking to Ron to see if he knew the answer, but he raised his hands showing he was empty handed. They knew Draco was their age. They were in the same year together. But what his exact age was...that they weren't so certain about. They never knew him to celebrate his birthday, or even advertise it much. Vaguely, Harry thought he remembered Draco bragging that over the summer, his father had gotten him the latest broom or something like that...
"You're twenty-seven," Eloise answered, sighing as she didn't, getting both of them off their hooks.
"Wh-where are w-we?"
His next question surprised Harry. He would have thought the question would have been "what happened to me" or "why have I lost my memory" or something along that line. "Malos Island, heard of it?" Harry asked, wondering if this place was in existence even way back then. The whereabouts of this place wasn't the only thing that was sketchy. They had known that the place existed for quite few years, had heard about it too many times to dismiss it entirely, and it had been featured prominently in several Gregon stories, but they hadn't learned the location of the place until four years ago, when Dennis Creevey had infiltrated the island.
Draco shook his head. "No."
Well, at least we know that...
"This place has only been here for nine years," Eloise explained. "It was Draco's conception, his baby."
"Figures," Ron muttered. "I just bet he was the one who thought up what happened to me three years ago..."
"No, that was me," Eloise volunteered with a false smile. "It was pretty twisted, wasn't it?"
Harry reached out and snagged one of Ron's arms before he could get up and go over there. "Forget about it," he whispered, knowing fully well how Ron would react to a statement like that. His capture and what happened during it had always been a soft spot for him. "She's just trying to provoke you."
"I'd say so," Ron growled, casting the smirking woman one last look.
The smirk left Eloise face soon after when she realized Ron wasn't giving her the satisfaction. What would be the fun in rubbing someone's face in if they refused to get riled by it? There wouldn't be any. So she sighed and got back to the point.
"Hey!"
Their heads went up in surprise. This had been the loudest Draco had gotten since he had awaken. "I st-till h-have qu-questions, you know..."
Harry motioned for him to go ahead.
"If you're th-the Boy Wh-who Lived and w-we're in a cell, th-then wh-why am I h-here?"
"You've been captured."
Draco puzzled over the simple sentence, not getting it. Tentatively, he asked, "So wh-why are you th-three h-here?"
"To rescue you," Ron answered, just as straightforward, making it sound as if everyone should know this by now.
By the look on Draco's face, he still didn't get it. "W-why?"
"Good question," Ron praised. Pushing on the floor, he turned his body to face Harry. "Maybe you could answer that oh Boy Who Lived."
Slightly annoyed by Ron's behavior, Harry tried to make Draco understand. "You...I mean...You're a spy," he rushed out, his words jumbling into each other. "And...we...you're working for us." Harry shrugged. Okay, so that wasn't the real truth seeing as from what he's heard the Gregon worked for himself, but it was close enough to it. And it's not like he'll know the difference...
"I...w-work for the W-weasel?" Draco exclaimed, his voice hitting a high note on the word "Weasel". His face reflected how disturbed and disgusted he was at that prospect.
"That's right, Malfoy," Ron affirmed smugly. "For me," he spoke with relish. For a moment, Ron turned his head to Harry to show how glad he was that he embellished the truth on that last bit.
"Oh cut it out." Eloise rolled her eyes. "You don't work for him. You don't work for anybody. They didn't even know you existed a few days ago."
"Wh-what?"
His soft question was ignored as Harry tried to explain what he meant. "Okay, maybe "worked for" was a bad example. More like work with."
Draco turned to Eloise for confirmation.
"Meaning you work with their boss who made them work with you," she translated with a deadpan expression on her face.
"You were unmasked and revealed as a spy so we're here to bail you out," Ron contributed.
"I'm a spy?" Draco asked out loud in wonder. He glanced at Harry. "Against the Dark Lord?"
Harry nodded.
"I've..." he started, but didn't finish. "I'm..."
It sounded like he was finding it hard to believe what they were telling him.
He lifted his head, his eyes filled with a bright light that wasn't there before. "I'm the Grey Dragon, aren't I?"
Their collective head shot up in shock of hearing the name on his lips.
"Aren't I?"
A/N: Oh boy it's been a long time, hasn't it? With ff.net down for so long and with me working on other stuff (mostly not at all...a sorta vacation from the story)... This chapter is a bit shorter than usual so I'm sorry, but I had to get it finished...
I hope the stutter wasn't too much (I thought it was, my beta didn't)... I had other thoughts to share, but it's too hot here to think...
Red: Don't worry about it. It all worked out in the end.
Tionne: Thanks! Yes, I think Draco is just putting up a hard front, but how long can he stand before it starts to chink? I hate Ron because...I don't know...It's the fanfics...they did it...
Lesat: Hey, how'd you like this part?
chrisseee667: Thank you so much! Very! Plot is on of the main things I was trying to do and for someone to comment on it...that's just great!
Enid: Not soon, eh? You wait for each chapter? Yikes! That's must have taken some time... I'm sorry I can't get them out sooner.
WildfireFriendship: Has it been too long? I think so. Thanks for the review!
Youko Gingitsune: Draco is awake and talking! Hope he doesn't disappoint!
MOI: Ha! LOL!
Sorry for the really long reviews, I just like to try and get everybody... Oh I thought of something to say. I would like some H/D action happening, but Draco...he may be physically 27 years old, but mentally (and personally I think that's all that matters) he's 12 and that's just wrong. So you see my dilemma. I can't let it get too paternal, cause that would kill it later on and I can't get too smoldering with Draco confused and lost and Harry all caught up in his emotions... This is going to be one hard fanfic to finish...
So see ya until next time...how ever long that may be.