Author: Brandi Vincent
Disclaimer: This is the sequel to Demon Beneath My Will; I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's characters except for Shane Pompe.
Summary: Traveling to London. (Don't worry, they actually get there, unlike SOME of my stories where they keep walking and walking and delaying and shitty shit like that!)
~~~Chapter Six: The Rain of Snow~~~
"Shit!" Tom cursed out loud, pacing the dimly lit chamber furiously. His boots made deafening thuds as he paced back and forth, hands cupped behind his back. Lucius entered, blonde hair in perfect place and an unreadable, solemn expression leered about him. The heavy chamber door creaked slowly back into it's stone frame, leaving the torch lit room dim with flickering flames dimming the chamber.
"I received your message, Sir, what is the problem?" He asked in a luring, daft tone, cape flowing behind him as he walked up to Tom.
"Should have saw it coming," Tom replied with furrowed brows, looking down to the edgy stone floor.
"And what do you suppose that is?" Lucius asked fourthly, waiting patiently for his Lord to accumulate words.
"For further delay, I can't impregnate her after all. My body may take shape of a seventeen-year-old boy, but my sperm is a little...past its expiration date. Regardless, the boy will have to instead. They're foolish enough; they'll mess around sooner or later. That's the magic of hormones; I can feel their need for one another that it's almost piercing. I have a strong feeling they will, and if they don't, I will make sure they do," Tom's lip curled into a small smirk, dimple exposed. He finally looked up to Lucius' ever so solemn expression.
"Well, one question I have on my mind is why Shane isn't in Slytherin as well and can very easily do the job himself. After all, he is under your command, is he not?" Lucius asked, hands cupped behind his velvet cape.
Tom sneered, turning away to the opposite wall to not have to look at the man in front of him, "Too bad, really. The small portion of the pure side of my family line had been Ravenclaws. He turned out to be one, as well, I suppose. Let's not forget Dumbledore is a fool enough for thinking Shane is an honest student and let the sorting hat sort him."
"Well then, all is settled. Draco will surely talk Hermione into bed," Lucius grinned evilly, "I know that boy like the back of my hand. When he wants something, he damn well gets it one way or another, and sex is one of his main priorities. But what I can't get out of my mind is that Harry Potter lad. Is he of any use anymore, or was that night just some sport of revenge?"
Tom grinned as well, looking back to him, "He is no longer an asset I'd like to use. Little kitty is my main target as of today. The next week of her pregnancy we shall strike. We need that small life evolving into her, or the spell will not work. Harry Potter was one thing, this is a completely different topic, surely."
He whipped out his wand and twirled it in front of him, making wide, round circles in the cold air. As if appearing out of fog, a blurry figment of Hermione misted into view. She was grinning and talking to someone, most likely being Shane, and on the carriage to the train station to be taken to London.
Tom smirked again and a wash of pure venom over washed him, all the while dimples still showing, "Hello, my kitty cat, here we meet again..."
~~~~~~
Hermione twiddled her fingers and kicked her feet against the cushion of the train. Had they already traveled across the most part of the land in the carriage, they were finally on the classy train to London. (BN: What is my obsession with London?!?) Shane was talking away, but certainly he didn't expect her to follow along the first five or ten minutes?
She just kept nodding and looking up at him every so often to nod, like she would do with her father if he were ever angry at society. She knew what they were talking about and where they were leaning towards in the conversation to themselves, so that meant to her she didn't have to listen. At least the most part of which.
During which time, she would consult herself or think of much stupidity. Like if there were nine dwarves instead of seven. Hey, you never know, Snow White could have killed two off to bake that suspicious looking apple pie...
What would Harry and Ron think about in this kind of situation? Probably Quidditch and something stupid like that, she thought lightly. Quidditch wasn't all that, there were many sports she'd rather enjoy playing or watching. Like rugby...or...watching morbidly obese men in tights rubbing up against each other, which was formally known as football. Oh, how she hated that one, it always ruined the holidays for her family whenever her father would watch it. He never knew what was actually going on, he just acted like he did so to prove himself worthy as a man. Who would want to be worthy as a man? She'd always wonder.
On the other side of the train, concluding that to the dastardly mind of Draco not too far off from Hermione's pondering one, he wondered how the hell did idiots surround him so much.
Number one idiot: Pansy. She...wouldn't...stop...TALKING. The worst thing about it was her screechy, mind numbing voice that could set a guy back a year. She was no rocket scientist, he could tell you that.
"-and then we'll go to a little cafe, and then we'll go to a little shop, and then we'll-" Was all she would say! The girl was clueless onto society's daily events! No intelligent conversation could be broken out with her in the room.
Pansy scooted closer to Draco as he scooted father away. He had rushed onto the train, completely avoiding her, until she found his compartment and got in right as the train was taking off. She scooted a bit more closely to him, as he rubbed up against the cream white wall. He could sit on the other side again, but then she would do another round of scooting towards him. They already went through six.
She rubbed up against his hip and nuzzled against his shoulder. That was the final straw. "That's IT." He stood up in a heartbeat and stormed out of the compartment, slamming the door behind him, in search of higher intelligence. Mainly Hermione.
He sort of had a clue to where hers was, but he had to peek through a couple of compartments first to see. He finally pulled up to a particular one, but not one he would sit down in.
"What are you doing, Malfoy?" Ron snapped, shooting his head upward to see Draco standing at the compartment doorway. Draco sneered and gave them a most revolting, put down look they could have ever felt.
"Looking for Hermione, seen her?" He asked in a snotty tone, not bothering to mess around with them this time.
"None of your business where she is, Malfoy," Harry hissed, folding his arms across his chest. Although Hermione had made it clear she had feelings for the serpent, they still refused to socialize or act civilized around him.
"Really? I think it is, considering I've been protecting her and keeping your asses out of trouble ever since Halloween, what a surprise," Draco spat, eyeing Harry most repulsively.
"What surprises me is that I'm not in hell and neither are you. Remember before you left that showstopper with 'I'll see you in hell?' You almost killed Hermione!" Harry shouted, daring to stand up and face the short tempered Slytherin.
"You'll be in hell once I'm through with you!" Draco hissed, pulling out his wand to curse the out spoken accusatory.
Harry and Ron shot up as well, lashing out their wands and yelling, "Eramuster!" (Which was another curse or word for 'Evil Master' in two foreign words...long time to translate that one...don't question my authority...)
Draco's eyes widened and he flew back against the opposite wall of the train, a black fog reigning over him as the two Gryffindors stared in disbelief and joy. Draco spontaneously shivered and shook as the black mist thickened all around him and created a blanket that he could not escape. Before he was knocked out, he saw a demonic face in the fog with gargoyle horns husking his way and leading him into a state of uncontrollable shaking and shock. The way Harry and Ron wanted him to.
~~~~~~
Draco's eyes opened to a dark room with a shining spotlight in the middle reflecting against a long, silver pole. He looked up to see where the spotlight was being moderated, but it only shone in his eyes and caused him to see little purple dots in front of him as he looked back down.
Hermione stepped up to the pole. Almost bare-naked. What is she doing? He thought in a state of puzzlement, brows furrowing to show it. Her face was blank and unreadable. What she did next was a complete shock. She began doing an erotic dance with the pole; cold silver against bare pale skin. Why was she doing this? He thought, mind a bit distracted on the entertainment. Somewhere below was beginning to grow rock hard and he wasn't sure if he should like it or disapprove of it.
Hermione kept swinging and looking over to him, eyes hungry for sex. Sex? Is that what she wants? Do I want sex? Draco thought, mind eating into it. Sex good, I need sex. I need Hermione. I need to have sex with Hermione.
She began pacing over to him, body in perfect shade and form that it almost made Draco goggled at such beauty. Was Hermione that beautiful? Should I care? He was still laying in a hospital bed, sweating with out realizing it.
She crawled on top of the bed to him, chestnut hair falling in front of her mounds called breasts and breath riggid with a sort of exotic thirst for him. Was this Hermione?
She slipped her hand under the thin hospital blanket, crawling downwards towards his groin, when his eyes snapped open and the odd dream ended. Odd. And steamy. For Draco. He stared up to the plain white wall of the humming train and kept it there for a moment or two.
Yea...right....so...what just happened there? He did have wet dreams about Hermione frequently, but never quite like that. It was different...like it wasn't even Hermione. But he fed into the idea of one objective: having sex with Hermione. It sounded so perfect that he almost wanted it right there and then.
Then again...he slipped one hand under his rear to check for any damp spots or a puddle of cum, but there was none, thankfully. He gave a sigh of relief and closed his eyes again, feeling light headed and tired. For a moment there, he almost fell back asleep, but then another thought popped up into his head: Harry and Ron. He not only snapped his eyes back open but also sat up instantly, looking around the room.
There was a buzzing fan at the ceiling and blank white walls, also sitting upon a cold hospital bed. He hated those kinds of beds the most; they were so flimsy and felt like plastic. The doorknob turned and he laid back down, closing his eyes just in case. The thin door opened and closed behind someone. Footsteps drew near the flimsy bed and he resisted the urge to open his eyes to see who was so near to him. The person was obviously a bit careful to keep quiet, but too late, he had already awakened.
Whoever it was pulled up a splintering chair and sat down on it, sighing and staring at Draco wistfully. He felt the air around him disturbed, like one would always feel if someone had stepped up behind them. He also heard the rustling of someone taking off his or her robe, probably from the dampness of the room. He couldn't help it. He opened his eyes.
Thankfully, it was only Hermione. She seemed reluctant when he stared back at her from under the thin paper like sheets. At first Draco felt relieved and that a load of metal weights had been lifted off from him, then he felt a lust for her. Like the dream had mentally told him to do.
He pulled Hermione forward and sat up in his cold bed in some odd room in the train, lifting her off of the creaky chair and onto the bed with him. He tangled his fingers in the back of her baby hair as he smashed his lips onto her pearly pink ones, cradling her on his lap. She was hesitant at first, but caved in to his sudden sexual aura, slipping her hands across his waist and at the spine of his arching back.
Exploring his tongue down to her exposed neck, he slowly laid her down on the lurching bed and bucked his waist one top of hers. He already had his cotton black shirt pulled off from whatever time when he was knocked out, probably the nurse checking for any further injuries or bruises to be cared for. The only pain he was enduring was a light head and the insecurity of himself. He didn't feel right, and it wasn't from the curse Harry and Ron bestowed upon him, either.
Draco slid his hands under her back and down to her pants line, reaching for her belt to unbuckle it and to do the same to his own. Once he reached it, Hermione pulled a warm hand to his bare chest and stared up at him, lust washed away to curiosity and seriousness. He pulled away from her wet neck to stare back at her.
"We can't, Draco," she stated firmly but caring, staring up into his hopeful gray eyes. They melted as if Christmas had been cancelled and had a sudden lost, insecure boy's ones. Then he remembered she was right, no risks can be taken. As long as Voldemort was on the loose and keeping a careful eye on them, they couldn't.
"You're right," he caved in, chest falling into a sudden leap of despair. He sat up and on her legs, then got off of her altogether to let her get off of the cold hospital bed.
She scooted off of the bed and sat back down on the whicker chair, frown leering upon her lips as he sat up against the white slate of a wall. He stared ahead of him, not daring to glance back at her.
"Well, what I really came in here for was to check up on you. You've been, um, unconscious for hours. Are you doing alright, now?" She asked gently, as to not to disturb the peace in the room. When a room is that silent and an annoying fan is buzzing above you, you tend to speak below a whisper just because.
"Yea. I mean, no. I mean, sort of," he stuttered, looking over to the window that was covered by a beige, pull-down curtain.
"Professor Snape is having way with Harry and Ron. It's like a field day for him, right now," Hermione laughed, getting the topic off of a certain, shirtless teenage boy. Which this boy happened to be too handsome for words, mind you.
"Sounds fun, but whatever Snape is doing to them will be no match for what the hell I'm going to do to them," Draco warned her, looking over to the beauty. No, eyes hurt, look away before your shadow caster down there gets any funny ideas. He snapped his head back over to the boring white wall in front of him. The room was too plain to be true; blank white walls, a plain buzzing fan, a flimsy hospital bed, and a brown wooden board-floor. The only slight interesting detail of the room was the imitation Monnet painting near the doorway. All of this modern boredom created into a room was on the Hogwarts Express? Quite so.
"I think they'd deserve it," Hermione piffled. The doorknob turned slightly and someone swung upon the wooden door, stepping inside. Not a nurse, Draco remembered suddenly, why the hell would a nurse be traveling on a train? All the same, why would there be a boring room for patients to lay in as well?
"Doing better, Mr. Malfoy?" Professor Lupin asked curiously, hands resting on his hips.
Draco stared back at him blankly. "Ecstatic." He never could really stand most of the professors.
"Great, because we're about to get off," Lupin replied cheerfully, looking down at Hermione who was pulling back on her robe. Before she was hot, now she was cold again.
"Already?" Draco spat, staring at Lupin in disbelief. "I'm gonna kill those two bloody gits!"
"Oh, keep your shirt on," Lupin said, just for the fun of it since Draco had his shirt off.
"Tehe," he muttered, looking about the room for his shirt. He found it on the side table and pulled it on messily, glaring at Lupin the whole while.
"Right," Lupin hesitated, standing out of the way for them to walk out. "The train's just about to stop, Mr. Malfoy, I think that young girl in your compartment would love to see you again and on your feet."
"NO," Draco hissed, standing up and off of the bed to follow Hermione. "Keep that girl away from me or I'll sick Bob the demon weasel on her."
"A...demon weasel?" Lupin asked as Hermione rolled her eyes and led the way, "Is that a threat, Draco, because you could get suspended for that."
"No, the demon weasel is her friend too, you see, I made him up when I was six!" Draco said sarcastically, giving a misnomer smile. Hermione just shook her head as they all walked out of the mono room and down the train's corridor. "I named the weasel Bob and he thinks he's a demon; he was a low self esteem and doesn't like to talk about it; and when he stole my nickel I yelled at him and then he ran away. I was a very disturbed six year old."
~~~~~~
After the train lurched to a stop at the London train station, all of the worthy 7th years scrambled off of the train in a blind delight. Except for Harry and Ron, who were still being lectured by Professor Snape as Professor Figgs watched in restlessness.
"Harry, it's been hours and all I can hear from him is this screeching noise you hear when someone scratches a black board!" Ron whispered to Harry under his breath as Professor Snape paced back and forth across the dim room.
"And another thing!" Professor Snape added, facing them so abruptly they nearly jumped out of their seats.
"Severus," Professor Figgs stood up, attempting to negotiate, "I know as much as the next professor what they did was utterly wrong and inappropriate, but I think they've got the idea of it. The train stopped."
Snape stopped and turned to listen to her and then looked back down at Harry and Ron, "The train has stopped. The students are leaving. But you two are not. Since you've got the idea of things, you can think it over back in class at Hogwarts," he stated firmly but still a little hyperventilating. Professor Figgs' (let's say her first name is...Anita) jaw dropped and looked down at the two wide-eyed boys.
"WHAT?" Harry shouted, "But we've been looking forward to this ever since the day we heard about it! We kept our grades up! Besides, Malfoy started it! He came into our compartment first!"
"Yea!" Ron piped in.
"Hush up! It was your faults all the same when you cast one of the forbidden curses on him! Meaning that curse must never be used on school grounds or students mind you. Not to mention he's a savior of mankind and a war hero!" Snape snapped.
"Harry's one of those things, too!" Ron insisted as Professor Figgs stood up to Snape.
Just as Snape was about to make another remark, she interrupted him. "Severus, Remus informed me that Draco is doing fine. The boys can just simply apologize to him and then we can all get on with our lives. Let's not make any drastic decisions yet."
Professor Snape hesitated on words and ideas for a moment, then came to one conclusion, "Fine. These too hooligans will say sorry to Draco and mean it," he eyed them, "And, since you all seem so high strung on swordplay and wand waving, you will have a duel with him to settle it." He smirked evilly down at the two as they both looked at each other and gulped down their pride. "In fact I love the idea so much the students will go to an academy tomorrow and sharpen up on their skills on handling a sword. Tomorrow evening, boys, you will face a professional, so called Mr. Malfoy. After all, you say he started the argument as well."
"You mean us two against Malfoy?" Ron asked, relaxing a bit at the thought of two against one.
"He's not even that good anyway, Shane beat him last time," Harry muttered to Ron.
"Hmm, too easy then. Let's pair up Draco then, with how about... Shane Pompe?" Professor Snape asked reluctantly, eyeing the two with hidden joy. They paused again and cursed under their breath. Draco, with a sword? And Shane at his side? Yep, they were minced meat already.
~~~~~~
Draco stared at Hermione mournfully, as she stood by his side in the big crowd of 7th years at London's platforms. His instincts kept telling him he had to take her, that he had to do whatever it took to do so. He couldn't help thinking so, it was like the thought was drilled into his mind and couldn't be erased.
He didn't want to think it, no matter how arousing the thought. Ever since that damned dream of his, he couldn't bare a glance at her unless he wanted his dick to make the decisions for him. What was worse was that he did want to mess around with her sexually like he always had when they were traveling around Britain, but he had to refrain himself like Hermione said. Fucking could lead to disaster as long as Tom Riddle and Lucius were still around.
He still held his sword in his holster everywhere he went, and no one disapproved or spoke up to him. He liked that kind of advantage. Voldemort's face wasn't popping up as much as it used to, but it meant something... Maybe Tom needed that sword as badly as Draco stubbornly felt it didn't belong to anyone but himself and a Slytherin would go to any lengths to get what they wanted.
"Gather around, everyone! Quiet down!" Professor Lupin informed the group as they all waited eagerly in the train station. "We'll be staying at a four star hotel, due to the ministry's kindness, thanks to Mr. Malfoy and the veterans of the recent war. We'll stay there the rest of the night, since it's already around seven p.m. Two to four people a room. Students that will be in a group of two get the one bed room suite, others will get the two bedroom. No phone calls unless you're willing to cough up cash and absolutely NO Spice channels, men. They keep track of every last phone call and channel you watch or movie you order, so do not think you will get away with anything these past weeks. We leave after Christmas, which is in three weeks. Always stick with the group you're sharing a room with!"
He looked around the crowd as they began choosing partners or groups and chatting away about whatever topic was to be brought up. Draco turned to Hermione instantly, seeing the pretty boy Shane no where in sight.
"Partner?" He asked as she looked up at him as well, smiling.
"Shane had already asked me on the train." His hopes drained from him like a sewage pipe, and it showed. She leaned upwards and kissed him softly on his cold lips, then pulled away. "But I turned him down. I choose Bob the demon weasel."
"Then I'm gonna kick Bob's furry pink ass," Draco replied, knowing she meant him
"Okay then, let's move it! The hotel is of walking distance, so I don't want any moping or complaining," Professor Lupin called out, just as the students started moping and complaining.
"Hope Shane finds someone to share a room with," Hermione bit her bottom lip, feeling a bit guilty. Draco shrugged and quite honestly didn't give a rat's ass if Shane were shot down that second. Shane got on his nerves a tad too much.
They walked down the dim train station and into the cold, winter's night. A blur of snow brushed on them instantly and could feel the snow's freezing temptation. Right away, everyone started balling up chunks of snow and throwing it at one another. Even one almost hit Professor Snape's boots. If it had, fun time would be over.
Harry and Ron caught up to Draco in a sensible fashion and brushed mounds of snow off of their broad shoulders. "We were forced to say sorry to you, so we're," Harry said, beginning to cough uncontrollably and including the word 'not' somewhere in there, "sorry."
"You're," Draco began, also coughing repeatedly and fitting 'not' in between, "forgiven." Hermione just rolled her eyes and shook her head, watching as Ron balled up a snowball and chucked it at Professor Lupin's head. From a distance, you could hear Professor Lupin cursing and shouting, looking about until he pointed out the perpetrator.
"Ron, come over here!" Lupin shouted, rubbing the back of his head.
"You just couldn't stop yourself, could you?" Harry snapped, smacking the back of Ron's red head hard.
"Thought he wouldn't know it was me!" Ron claimed as they walk up to the front of the group. Shane caught up to Hermione a moment later as everyone crossed the slippery streets of London. She looked up at him and faintly heard Draco growl. In the corner of her eye she could see Professor Lupin look like he was about to lecture Ron, then pulled a huge snowball out from behind his back and smacked it on top of Ron's head with a thick, rich laugh.
"Find a group okay?" She asked, holding back a tickling laugh.
"Yep, Eddie, Joey, and Rick," Shane replied with a teeth flashing smile, as three tall boys snuck up behind Shane.
"Where ya goin', sir?" A pale, raven-haired boy asked, slapping a hand on Shane's right shoulder.
"Hermione, this is Rick. Rick, this is Hermione and Draco," Shane greeted them.
"Oh, so THIS is Hermione!" Rick exclaimed, raising his brows at her. She blushed and didn't know why.
"You just don't do that to a brotha', dog!" Another tall male with a shaved head and black skin told another boy next to him as they caught up to Shane. "Shane, Joey over here tries throwin' a fuckin' snowball at my head! Just got it cut, too!"
"Hermione, this is Eddie and that anorexic thing over there is Joey," Shane told Hermione again.
Eddie nodded his head upwards and said, "Sup."
"Sup?" Hermione muttered to herself in confusion.
"Peace," Joey, the skinny pale boy with dyed green hair greeted Hermione, giving the two fingers to the left and two fingers to the right paranormal sign. "Dude, who cares if I threw a snowball at your head? Like it'd mess your hair up anymore, can't mess your head up anymore than it already is..."
"Ah, hell no. You ribbin'?" Eddie asked, staring at Joey seriously.
"Ah, look guys, she's so cute and petite!" Rick gushed, moving his elbow to lay lazily on Shane's elbow. Hermione looked down to the snow and blushed a little more as Draco rolled his head up to the sky and said something under his breath silently.
"Yea, she is cute! That is so cute!" Joey gushed too, punching Eddie's shoulder.
"Dude, you made her embarrassed!" Eddie said, looking over to Hermione, "It's all good, they're just messin'."
"No, she's like a kitten cute!" Rick persisted, nudging Eddie.
"What's up with people nudgin' me today, damn!" Eddie exclaimed, punching Rick's arm.
"You wanna take this outside?" Rick demanded, turning to Eddie.
"Damn, you slow," he shook his head smacking Rick upside the head, "I am the only civilized Ravenclaw in dis school!" Someone from behind him threw a snowball at his head and he spun around in a heartbeat. "Oh, hell no! You trippin', dog? Cause I can smack you all the way up Main Street!" He ran after some guy that threw the snowball and threw him down to the ground.
"Alright! Fight! Fight! Fight!" Rick cheered on, turning around to the scene. Joey rolled his eyes and turned to Hermione, "Excuse me," and ran after the other two.
Hermione stifled a laugh, "How'd you end up with friends like those?"
"Long story," Shane sighed, looking over his shoulder. "Oh, great, Ed's beating up that jock again, I'll see you around, Hermione!" He exclaimed, running over to the other three to stop the hassle.
"It amazes me how ignorant one can be," Draco mumbled with a bitter scowl.
"Oh, come off it, they seem...unique," Hermione replied, looking over to Ron who was running after Professor Lupin, clutching a snowball in one hand. Professor Lupin ran past them with a smile and hid behind Snape.
"Don't touch me or I'll shoot!" Professor Lupin protested, holding up Snape's right arm. Snape shook him off abruptly and glared at Ron.
"Don't even think about it," he warned as Ron was prepared to hit Professor Lupin.
"The holidays always make everyone happier, don't you think?" Hermione smiled, looking up at Draco. He looked back down at her with a sour expression.
"I hate Christmas and everything that comes with it. It's too...happy," Draco insisted as the students crossed another dark street. Many other muggles passed with either vacant or cheerful expressions. The students kept daring each other to poke one.
"Boo-yah!" Rick yelled into the crisp air as the jock chased the cackling Eddie and him up the street.
"I'm the black Batman! Run; run, as fast as you can! Can't catch me, I'm the black version of Osama Your-Mama!" Eddie shouted, jumping on top of a short stone wall and balancing on it.
Draco looked back down at Hermione and sighed. She looked like she wanted to be happy too. And she was cold. He swept her off of her shivering feet and into his muscular arms covered by his black robe, causing her to gasp and laugh in delight.
She rested her head against the warmth of his breast, sighing sweetly and closing her tired eyes, and whispered, "I love you, Draco." The words themselves sounded a bit awkward to her, seeing as how he had hated her most of her life, and it did feel strange, but she knew what she meant and she did mean it. She loved Draco Malfoy and she didn't care what everyone else thought!
"I love you too, Hermione," Draco whispered back and letting his chest fall up and down in huge strides. That sounded weird too, but the forbidden fruit is always the most luscious.
~~~TBC~~~
Chapter Seven of Damned Eyes: Hmm...They get to the hotel and hell, shit happens. Maybe that wasn't the correct form of words...well, you'll see, just be patient and guess.
BrAnDi's Note: Okay, to those of who don't like that idea of Hermione getting pregnant, neither do I. I don't like the idea one bit, because that's not really what the story is about. With others, it revolves around that, but not this one, mind you. But what makes you think they're going to cave in? Ahahahah, now I made you think! Anyway, umm...does anybody read the author's note?! Just wanna know, and if you could say in your review, "Yes, I read BrAnDi's Note." And leave why you do, just curious. I'd be grateful. Because when I was reading stories (I think I've read over one hundred in a lot of sections) I never read the author's note. Saw Harry Potter 2 the day after it came out. Draco was hilarious, it was good. My sister's cat is so cute right now! I'm typing with one hand right now because I'm cradling him in my other arm. I love him! He's reaching out to me like a baby!!! Well if you also don't understand why Hermione needs to be pregnant, it's for the spell. Maybe I'd be giving too much out away in saying this, buuut...they need one sacrifice and one life of the same blood. The fetus as the sacrifice and Hermione's life in trade of Voldemort's when they kill her with Draco's sword. All I'm saying for now. Never question the author when she knows what she's doing. Also, for the slow ones that didn't catch on already, the dream Draco had was a spell of Tom's. You're welcome. Aaaaaaah, Spunky is so cute!!! I love this cat!!! Review if you feel the need too. By the way, I think I made Eddie too American black, if you know what I mean. Well, I don't really know the, um, British ghetto terms and crap like that, so I only know the USA ones. Just improvise…heh heh…