Hey everyone! Thank you so much for reviewing, and for putting up with my
slowness. (Model UN is a killer!) I was really apprehensive about writing
this chapter because A) I've never written a Quidditch game, and B) I'm
into 5th year, so this is completely my plot, just with J.K.'s characters.
*SCARY* Just to let you know, I am sincerely trying to call A) Albus and
Minerva on the Isles, and B) Dumbledore and McGonagall at school. This will
take a little bit of an adjustment. Again, I am not worthy to have your
eyes read this lowly fan fiction, just give it time, it will get better and
the romance will come in. (I know, I know; "Does she think she'll be able
to finish this story before we're all forty.J.K.'s so much faster than she
is.) I'm such a sorry, slow person, have mercy on me! Lots of A's and B's
in this note. Anywho, I sincerely hope you enjoy this chapter and please
don't forget to review. And Happy Holidays!(If there are any left)
Useless Information: Quotes, Quotes, Quotes, what would I do without them? Here's one that I hope you will like. "We are not permitted to choose the frame of our destiny. But what we put into it is ours." - Dag Hammarskjold
Disclaimer: 'Twas the Night before posting, and on fanfiction.net. Not a person owns their fanfic, because they just can't. (including me of course) So, before I leave to get into bed, I'll give the credit to J.K. Rowling and Marion Zimmer Bradley instead. (It's a Holiday Classic!)
If Time is All We've Lost
Chapter 13 - Capricious Cyan
"He can make you love. He can get you high. He will bring you down. He'll make, make you cry.
Something keeps him moving, but no one seems to know, what it is that makes him go."
/~\ 'Guitar Man' \~/ Bread /~\
"Upstaging is not the correct way to begin the year as a prefect, Ms. Granger," said Snape, sneering as he commented on her leadership skills. "It could create a serious flaw in these neophytes."
Hermione calmly ignored the snide comments and smiled warmly at the first years. "This is your potions teacher, Professor Snape," the first-year Gryffindors looked at him, their eyes wide with fear.
Snape scowled and swept away, while Hermione smirked at his back. One of the first-years timidly raised her hand into the air.
"Yes," Hermione said kindly, her smirk fading as she looked intently at the eleven year-old girl.
"I've heard he's the head of Slytherin house, and my father told me that everyone whose ever been in that house turned out to be a bad witch or wizard. Is that true?" the girl said apprehensively. Some of the others glared at her, while the others nervously waited on Hermione's answer.
"Well," Hermione said, carefully wording her answer. "Some people in Slytherin house do become bad, but not all. And Professor Snape is one of those people. You will make friends with people from a variety of houses, and please do not assume that because they are in a certain house, they have the reputation of that house." Feeling her little speech was over with, she turned her back and walked forward once more, her robes sweeping behind her as the first-years followed her lead.
After leading them to their dormitories and giving them a review of the house rules and points, Hermione went to sit with Harry and Ron, who were playing wizard's chess in the middle of the common room.
"Snape's going to be on my case this year," Hermione said lazily as she analyzed their game. "And Malfoy's a prefect too. I'll bet you that I'll get paired up with him on our first assignments and patrols. I guess its the Gryffindor luck."
"C'mon Hermione," Ron said, waiting for Harry to move. "You'll show him; you're the best thing this place has seen since Dumbledore himself."
Hermione looked at Harry quickly, but he had found his move. "Pawn to E-4," he commanded. The piece moved to its place and smashed Ron's Bishop, which stood in its way. Ron groaned loudly, and shifted his attention back to the match.
While Ron was distracted, Hermione raised her eyebrows high at Harry, to indicate what she had felt about Ron's statement. Harry just shrugged and gave her a small smile. Hermione rolled her eyes at the both of them.
"I'm going up to bed," she announced to Harry and Ron as she started to climb the spiral staircase. "I've got a prefect meeting in the morning. You'd better get your rest too Ron, Quidditch try-outs are in the morning."
Ron just stared at her, opened mouthed, wondering how she could have known that he was vying for the Keeper position on the Gryffindor House team. He looked to Harry for an idea, but, of course, all Harry could do was smile and shrug once again.
Hermione allowed herself a well-deserved smile as she headed for her room. She had posted the Quidditch try-out posters on every common room bulletin board in the school, as well as the ones that resided in the Great Hall and on each floor of Hogwarts herself, so she knew that Ron would be trying- out, not only to be on the team, but to fulfill the shoes of the older self he saw in the Mirror of Erised. Hermione had heard the story many times over, but Ron was extremely determined.
Madam Hooch had given Hermione permission to do this favor for her before taking the first years to their dormitories. The fifth-year prefects were asked to stay and wait on the first-years as they finished their orientation, which was a new idea Dumbledore had formed, hoping to strengthen the house bonds.
Hermione stretched out on her familiar scarlet bed, and pulled out a copy of the Daily Prophet. She knew that the coming events would be extremely important, and with Rita gone for good, she knew that the news wouldn't be trash, in the Prophet or otherwise.
Hermione had turned her in to the libel court, and although her crimes weren't good enough to shut her away forever in Azkaban, Rita did receive a five-year sentence in St. Penn's Institute for Criminals far away in the remote Orkney Islands of Scotland.
She shuffled past the Sports and Health pages. Hermione just wasn't interested in the League Quidditch scores or who had been claimed at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies. Instead she flipped through the International reports until the Treaty of Zimbabwean Made Cauldrons no longer held her attention, and then she changed and went to bed, ready to start her fifth year at Hogwarts.
Draco was very zealous about his challenge, and knew that after he figured this one out, the next step would be initiation. That thrilled him completely, but after the dangerous first failed attempt, he knew that it would be harder than he had first expected, but surely Potter wouldn't be that hard to break.
He knew that Granger was a weak point, and truly suspected that Potter had a crush on her, and from the talks and assistance he had received from Voldemort, Draco knew that if you want to conquer someone, you didn't attack their body or their mind, but their heart. Weak was what his father always seemed to call it, and that was one of the worst things that a person could be to the Malfoys.
Draco had a very uneventful sorting and feast, but then again, he really wasn't looking for anything. All he knew was that he wished that Pansy would stop looking at him lovingly every five minutes; he didn't know how much of it he could take. So when Dumbledore announced that the fifth-year prefects were to stay behind with the first-years, Draco felt relieved.
As the others began to filter out of the hall, the fifth-year prefects stood beside the exits. Draco noticed the other prefects from the other three houses: He groaned to himself when he saw Granger. He knew that she was the obvious choice, but still, he didn't want to have to do two and three hour patrols with her. It would have been easier if the basilisk had finished her off. Galen Moon was the prefect from Ravenclaw. Draco really couldn't be satisfied or dissatisfied with him yet; in truth, he hadn't met Galen. And lastly, there was Hannah Abbot from Hufflepuff. Draco knew that Granger and Abbot got along well, and his father once told him that Hannah's father was offered the chance to be a death-eater during the first uprising, but declined. Draco, knowing how the Dark Lord hated to be denied, figured that they would be one of the first families to go in the Rebirth.
There were only nine new Slytherins, including Adam's younger brother Armand. Most of them knew Draco already, from meetings they had been forced to come to by their parents. After leading them to their rooms, he headed to his own. He talked to Blaise a little bit about the Quidditch try-outs and about the team this year. As Draco was the captain this year, surely they would win.
Draco went to bed fairly early, knowing that he would have to get up around 5:30 to make the prefect meeting at 7:00. And if there was one thing Draco Malfoy wasn't, it was late or unprepared. With that final thought, he turned off his reading lamp, and closed his ever-changing eyes.
"I'll see you guys later," Hermione called, as she ran up the stairs to empty her armload of books. "Good Luck!"
Both Harry and Ron exited through the portrait hole on their way to Quidditch try-outs. Harry had to attend since he was the new Gryffindor team captain, and he had plans to go into practice as soon as the position was filled. Their first game was against Slytherin on the twenty-ninth, so they couldn't waste any time.
Hermione set her school books down, and picked up a volume to keep herself occupied for the next half-an-hour, when she would go on patrol on the first through fourth floors, making sure that students who were lost found their way and that there were no pranksters lurking about the classrooms, including Peeves. She had been aware of these tasks before she became a prefect, but since Voldemort's comeback, Dumbledore promised concerned parents that there would be heightened security. So at least three times a week she'd be patrolling after dinner until 9:00. Unfortunately, Hermione was paired with Malfoy, and she felt that the patrol wasn't going to be a pleasant experience. They were to meet in the Great Hall at seven-thirty.
Draco hated when he had to wait on people, especially on those he hated. He leaned casually on one of the enormous doors of the Great Hall, his mind coursing over his situation. He looked over towards the staircase where Granger would be coming down sooner or later. Already there was a girl standing at the top of the stairs, obviously looking for someone. His eyes lingered on the girl for a moment, but opened wide in surprise when he realized who it was. Granger had decided to wait on the top of the staircase for him instead. Disbelief washed over him, and soon the bad- temper was back.
"Well, if it isn't the fawning half-faced Mudblood herself," Draco said scathingly, strutting over to the bottom of the staircase. Hermione turned around swiftly to focus on him.
"Hello to you too," she said sardonically, pacing down the stairs silently and quickly. "Let's go and get this over with, since it's plain to see that neither of us want to do this in the first place."
"Seriously, Granger," Draco drawled, crossing his arms as she brushed past him. "I think you are the most intelligent person this place has seen in at least one-hundred years."
"Don't lag, Malfoy," Hermione called, and she was pleased to hear Malfoy's scampering footsteps behind her as he tried to catch up.
Days came and went with no news of Voldemort from Dumbledore or the Daily Prophet. Tireless prefect duties with Malfoy were a constant for Hermione, while Harry and Ron were both busy with Quidditch, and of course, all were swamped with work.
The first game approached quickly, and soon Hermione was in the stands with Hagrid and Ginny, cheering for the two little scarlet blobs that were Harry and Ron, as well as the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Lee Jordan was doing his unforgettable commentary, as usual.
"And Bell passes to Spinnet. Back to Bell, and a bludger sent into the path of Withers, so Katie has a clear path.she shoots.and.the Slytherin keeper misses! Gryffindor in the lead, 10-0." Lee said, trying desperately to keep up with the fast paced game.
Ron was nervously watching the three goals, while Harry squinted around for the snitch. Although, while everyone's attention was on the game, Draco was waiting apprehensively for the perfect time to initiate his plan B.
While Harry searched for a tiny glimmer of gold, he noticed, as well as Hermione, Ginny, and Hagrid in the stands, that the Slytherin chasers were superb, and were giving Ron a terrible time. While they tried the Porskoff Play and the Woollongong Shimmy, only the Hawkshead Attacking Formation actually scored the Slytherins' ten points.
"Scoles passes, but its intercepted by Johnson. Watch out, Angelina, that's a bludger with the force of two beaters behind it, sent her way by the two Slytherin beaters Ghap and Rewins." It was amazing that Lee still had breath to speak. "MacDougal seems to be Slytherin's last hope before she reaches the goal posts. He hits, but is drove down. Johnson speeds towards the goal, and she. OH MY GOD!!!" One stern look from McGonagall changed that statement. "Sorry, I mean JIMENY CRICKET!!! MacDougal comes out from the blind side and nearly pulverizes Johnson, not only knocking the Quaffle from her hands, but almost succeeding in knocking her off her broom!"
Angelina was awarded a penalty shot, which she easily made, upping the Gryffindors to 20. If the snitch wasn't caught soon, this game could go on forever. Scoring was even until Slytherin was 20 points up, the score now 50-70, that's when Draco decided to put his plan into action.
Hermione and Ginny's voices were getting hoarse from cheering. The game had reached its two hour mark, and still there was no sign of the end. Hagrid left soon after Slytherin scored, saying that he had other business to attend to. The game was coming toward their end of the field again. Hermione's eyes were overcome by darkness, and she felt many arms shaking her, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't come back to the real world.
Draco flew beside Patrin, one of the Slytherin beaters, and wrenched his club of his hands. A bludger was zooming towards him, and he only had a few seconds to gain aim, and then he hit it and the bludger soared straight at Granger.
Hermione, it seemed, had no idea that a bludger was flailing towards her head, and Ginny tried in vain to get her attention or move her, as did three others that were around her. Ron noticed the bludger, but was trying to hold off another Slytherin score, so he couldn't help, but Harry could, and soon he was flying as fast as the Firebolt would carry him towards the bludger.
A burning print flashed quickly before Hermione's eyes; the Dark Mark. Then she could see the outside world again, only to focus on the brown bludger that was about half-a-meter from her face, and Harry close behind. Shock aside, she stared at the bludger before she realized what she was doing, and it froze just before her. Ginny stared, as did Harry, and soon almost everyone had turned their head.
Hermione didn't know what to do. She had learned to stop moving objects from her priestess training, and that subject was strictly forbidden at Hogwarts. And, to make matters worse, she didn't even have her wand, to pretend that she had done it by magic. Thankfully, Galen saved her, by standing up and pointing his wand at the immobile bludger, and forcing everyone to believe by reason that he had muttered the correct charm just in time to save Hermione.
Many people clapped for him, and he took a bow for added effect. The only ones who knew he was faking was Dumbledore, McGonagall, Hermione, and himself, but Draco had the feeling that something just wasn't right. In truth, Draco wasn't the only one that felt that there was something suspicious going on; Harry had stared Hermione in the eyes as the bludger stopped before her face; they were wide and fearful, and Harry looked around in bewilderment as he heard applause. His last look at Hermione was one of complete discombobulation.
"Freudian slip," chuckled Dumbledore to a very astonished and alarmed McGonagall.
Another penalty shot was rewarded to Gryffindor, and the score was 60-70. Although disoriented by the bludger, Harry caught the Snitch, giving Gryffindor their well-deserved win, and leaving everyone satisfied with the three hour spectacle of the game.
As Hermione left the stands, Ron came rushing towards her, asking her endlessly if she was all right, just as Ginny had done. After assuring him many times that she was unharmed, Ron took her aside from the crowds.
"Um.Hermione, well," Ron stuttered, trying desperately to find his wits. "Yeah, and well, anyway." he nervously ran his palm over the back of his neck. It seemed to Hermione that a veela had just crossed his path. "Will you be my girlfriend?" He looked at her earnestly with sincere azure eyes.
Hermione knew one day that it would have come, but, in reality, she had never suspected for it to come so soon. She gave him a look of utter shock and genuine surprise, and then she started muttering like him, although she was trying to think of the best way to keep her secret from him but not break his heart.
"Well, Ron," she said, though her mind was buzzing with thoughts of the Lady: What would she say right now? But Hermione was left hopeless without her wisdom, so she solved it in the best possible way she could think of at that very tense moment. "All right, I'll be your girlfriend."
Her heart almost broke in two when she saw his face glow brilliantly with happiness. How could she tell him that it would never work, no matter what, because of who she was? Would he think he was lying to her?
"Oh, Hermione!" Ron said, hugging her and giving her a kiss on the cheek. "You don't know how glad I am to finally hear that! I'll see you back in the Common Room!" and he turned and left to change in the locker rooms.
Guilt clutched her heart, and she walked out of the isolated place and into the almost empty stands, determined to clear her thoughts. Ginny had tried to come along, not only to talk, but also for protection, but Hermione made sure that no one followed her.
Harry had hung around to see how things with Ron and Hermione had went. He was happy for Ron, but something about the way Hermione acted was unusual, and then the bludger; there had to be something that Hermione wasn't telling them, and Harry knew it, although Hermione did her best to hide it from them. To Harry, Voldemort seemed hundreds of miles away from Hogwarts, since the trouble was all at school, and in the 5th year students it seemed. He watched Hermione carefully glide down the rows of stairs silently, and head out across the grounds. Finally, as Hermione had almost reached the Lake, Harry turned to join the team in celebration in the Common Room.
Hermione felt horrible. This was Ron, one of her best friends, a brother. How could she even attempt to tell him that she couldn't be his girlfriend because of her beliefs? Even to her that didn't sound very credible, but it was the truth. Another weight was added to her already heavy conscious and over-loaded mind. She headed back towards the castle, and noticed that Hagrid's house was lit up. Figuring that he was home, she went inside.
Hagrid stood up gruffly when he heard the barely audible knocks on his door. "Who is it?" he asked, his voice more hoarse than usual.
"Hermione," a soft voice fluttered through the door, and Hagrid quickly opened it to stare upon the distraught girl on his doorstep. She looked into his black eyes. "How did the meeting go?"
"Hermione what a pleasure it is to see you!" Hagrid said gruffly as he let her in. "What are you talking about? How are things up at the school?"
"Fine, Hagrid, as always," she said, wondering why he had avoided her question, and though she tried to sound like she truly meant it; it didn't work.
"There, there, Hermione, tell me what's going on," Hagrid said, sounding extremely concerned. "You have my full confidence."
"And you have mine," she said, referring back to her first question, sounding seemingly omniscient. "Hagrid, how did the meeting go?"
"All right, Hermione, you got me there, but first tell me what's goin' up there, I only see you three twice a week at most. Tell 'Arry and Ron to come see me some time." Hagrid said, scratching his chin.
"Well, they're why I'm here," she said, but that didn't sound right. She mulled it over once more before she corrected herself. "Actually, I'm why I'm here, Hagrid. There's something about me that you're not supposed to know; no one's supposed to know."
"Hermione," Hagrid said, now looking extremely worried and concerned. "What happened? Did someone do something to ya?" Hagrid was starting to sound frantic.
"No, Hagrid, calm down. It's nothing like that," said Hermione, a little surprised. "I am a priestess of Avalon, Hagrid."
A look of relief seem to wash over Hagrid, but it was only replaced by one of confusion, but once she explained, he understood.
"There's just one thing, Hermione," Hagrid said, again scratching his chin and looking thoughtful. "What does this have to do with Harry and Ron?"
"Because I am a priestess of Avalon, I give my life completely to the Goddess and I love whom she chooses," Hermione knew that this was hard for most people to comprehend, but that is how devoted priestesses were to be. "Ron is a friend, one of my best friends, but nothing more. He doesn't see it that way, but he doesn't know about Avalon, and I'm forbidden to reveal my secret.and I don't know if Ron will understand. I mean, it does sound extremely far-fetched."
"Hermione," Hagrid said gruffly. "I know what Minerva's told you, but the best thing I think you can do is tell both Harry and Ron the truth, and they, especially Ron, deserves to know."
"It just doesn't seem that simple to me," she said, feeling horrible. "This is exposing something that I have kept from them since we met, and keeping the time-turner a secret for one school year was such a big deal to them; what will they say about this? What will Harry say when he discovers that I know more about his mother than he does?" Hermione felt tears start to well in her eyes, but held them back.
"You can't kno-." Hagrid started, but Hermione interjected quickly.
"Hagrid, Harry has family, family that is alive!" She yelled. The tears were coming and she knew it, but she didn't care for once. "I'm sorry, Hagrid, I'm so sorry. How can I tell him, Hagrid, how?"
Hagrid did his best to comfort her, yet he insisted that the best way to deal with the situation was to reveal her covert life, but Hermione still wasn't sure. After a cup of tea, Hermione headed back up to the castle. When she arrived back in the common room, Ron and Harry rushed over to talk to her, but she complained of a headache, so they left her alone.
Draco was confused. After replaying and replaying the game's events in his head, he still couldn't find the flaw in his plan. His aim was perfect, his timing was flawless, but then again, he did get what he was looking for, but hurting Granger would have been a nice addition. Voldemort would pleased with what he had, and hopefully he would get something in return.
A dark circle of cloaks surrounded a small fire. Draco and the others waited upon Voldemort to arrive, and, in his own time, he did.
"Servants, you have returned," Voldemort hissed, his spindly fingers traced his jaw. "We will soon welcome those servants who are most faithful to me, but, in the meantime, Draco, I believe you and I have something to discuss. Come, I no longer trust half of my own disciples."
Draco's heart leaped out of pride, and yet it stuck in his throat because he was so nervous. This was, of course, the Dark Lord himself, and Voldemort was dependent on the information that he was providing. He forced his legs to move him forward, and they followed Voldemort to a secluded spot far from earshot and the prying eyes of the other death eaters.
"Well, Draco, what have you found?" Voldemort asked intently, boring into Draco with his narrow eyes. Draco now began to worry if he had found enough for him; would he be able to please the Dark Lord?
"Sir, you have instructed me well on how to extract the information you need from the mudblood," Draco said, hoping that he wouldn't be punished for his less than perfect performance, "but it was the err on my part, Lord. Still, I have not come to you empty-handed. I followed along your lines in that I suspected that Potter's weakness lie in Granger. During a school Quidditch game, I hit a bludger at her, hoping Potter would throw himself in front of her to save her. My plan was working, up until the last moment, when she opened her eyes and stared blankly at the bludger. It halted completely less than an inch from her nose, and no one else seemed to notice that she stopped it herself. She's not a regular witch, Lord."
"I see," Voldemort said, listening intently, but his mind was really buzzing. 'But you already knew that, didn't you. Damn you Narcissa!' he thought. But still, the boy was doing his absolute best, and, as Voldemort now saw, he was extremely inventive. Hopefully, he, Voldemort, could mold Draco into the most loyal and valuable follower he could ever have, almost like the son he never had. "Still, your efforts are not to go unrewarded."
Draco had no idea what to expect as an accolade from a Dark Lord, so he both cringed and looked surprised at the same time, which looked quite odd. Voldemort reached inside his robes and pulled out a small crystal vial decorated with an intricate Egyptian symbol. The vial was so minute that it fit in Draco's palm. The liquid inside was clear, even purer, it seemed, than the cleanest water one could ever find. It reminded Draco of the Truth serum that Snape had threatened Potter with last year.
"This, Draco, is a valuable gift that I have acquired from the ancient mediwizards of Egypt." Said Voldemort, clutching the vial tightly before dropping it into Draco's hand. "One drop of this is more potent than a whole liter of Veritaserum ever could be, but truth is not what it reveals."
Now aware that Voldemort could and was reading his mind, he made a mental note to never think about anything that related to Dragon Isle while he was around him. Voldemort may know that Narcissa had influences on him, but what he what he had not yet discovered was that Draco was still training to become the Merlin, and he was hard at work, trying to control the forces of nature that the God leaves at his fingertips.
"Keep it secret and keep it safe," Voldemort's red eyes pierced into Draco's, but Draco made sure his stare never faltered. A silent agreement was reached, and they left to return to the circle.
Lucius was not only relieved when he saw his son in one piece, but he was also suspicious. It would be his dying day when he saw his own son take his place in the circle of death eaters, and that was just his pride speaking, but then again, Draco was more than Lucius had first thought; more than Voldemort could even fathom.
"What are we going to do about him, Albus?" Minerva said, pacing about frantically. Albus was behind his desk, looking at letters from behind his familiar half-moon spectacles.
"Minerva," Albus said, a hint of impatience laced in his tone. "I can trust him because I know him. He is not your concern at all, and you cannot expect him to be. He is the concern of the God, the Goddess, and myself. He is just as exceptional as Hermione is and he is well on his way to fulfilling his purpose."
"Did you see what he did? How are they supposed to work for harmony and eternal peace?" Minerva had had enough. No matter how hard she tried to convince everyone on Avalon and herself, she was now at her breaking point.
"Lady, we are both overcome with work and worries, so I beseech you to no longer worry." Albus retorted, his blue eyes blazing. "You are not the Goddess herself, only her representation and paradigm on earth." Finality ran cold in his voice and she left in a huff.
Hermione truly suffered from no headache, but she was glad that she had silence and privacy. But still, after her mind stopped wondering, she became bored and starting obsessing about things that she usually wouldn't; like how messy her side of the dormitory was. While cleaning, she found the Daily Prophet she had thrown aside a few days ago. For once, the Health pages caught her attention. She read on and on about how Mrs. Kifler who had suffered from spontaneous cucumber growth from her ears had been claimed by her brother-in-law. It was the last name on the page that jumped out at Hermione the most.
"On Monday of this past week, Gilderoy Lockhart, a victim of extreme memory loss, was claimed by his cousin Brian Lockhart late on the night of September 27th."
Something didn't sit right about the name Brian. Over the many times that she had read Magical Me, she practically knew it by heart. She grabbed it from her bookshelf, and scanned it quickly, looking for the family tree. Her hunch turned out to be correct; underneath Gilderoy's father's brother's name was the cousin named Brian, but it wasn't that.it was Bryan. Now there were two possibilities that Hermione suspected could have happened. One, the secretary at St. Mungo's had copied the name down wrong, and two, the Daily Prophet could have misprinted it.
Right away, number two was out of the question, because there was an ad in the top right hand corner that read, "An offer of five-thousand galleons to the reader that can find one mistake." And as Hermione searched the rest of the health pages, although there were only two left, she found another small notice plastered at the very end of the last page. "All claimers must give their full name at the time of attainment. They must also show an ID which is copied for media purposes."
Hermione ran as fast as she could, past Harry and Ron, practically leaping down staircases flights at a time, to hopefully the one person that would listen to her, but maybe, just this once, she was wrong about something.
A/N: I AM BEGGING YOU DON'T KILL ME!!!!!! I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY..I PROMISE I'LL NEVER DO THIS AGAIN!!!!!!!! Just to show how repentant I am I promise that I'll get the next chapter out in two months (not much of a promise, eh?), but I will certainly never let this happen again. I will give you, however, The Second Summer of the Sisterhood by Ann Brashares (which totally rocks!), some chocolate truffles, the meaning of your name (which, if you really want, you can email me; my book will probably have your name), and a picture of Daniel Radcliff in a dress (which is in the May 5th addition of People magazine, which is available)!!! Have a wonderful day! Epequa
Useless Information: Quotes, Quotes, Quotes, what would I do without them? Here's one that I hope you will like. "We are not permitted to choose the frame of our destiny. But what we put into it is ours." - Dag Hammarskjold
Disclaimer: 'Twas the Night before posting, and on fanfiction.net. Not a person owns their fanfic, because they just can't. (including me of course) So, before I leave to get into bed, I'll give the credit to J.K. Rowling and Marion Zimmer Bradley instead. (It's a Holiday Classic!)
If Time is All We've Lost
Chapter 13 - Capricious Cyan
"He can make you love. He can get you high. He will bring you down. He'll make, make you cry.
Something keeps him moving, but no one seems to know, what it is that makes him go."
/~\ 'Guitar Man' \~/ Bread /~\
"Upstaging is not the correct way to begin the year as a prefect, Ms. Granger," said Snape, sneering as he commented on her leadership skills. "It could create a serious flaw in these neophytes."
Hermione calmly ignored the snide comments and smiled warmly at the first years. "This is your potions teacher, Professor Snape," the first-year Gryffindors looked at him, their eyes wide with fear.
Snape scowled and swept away, while Hermione smirked at his back. One of the first-years timidly raised her hand into the air.
"Yes," Hermione said kindly, her smirk fading as she looked intently at the eleven year-old girl.
"I've heard he's the head of Slytherin house, and my father told me that everyone whose ever been in that house turned out to be a bad witch or wizard. Is that true?" the girl said apprehensively. Some of the others glared at her, while the others nervously waited on Hermione's answer.
"Well," Hermione said, carefully wording her answer. "Some people in Slytherin house do become bad, but not all. And Professor Snape is one of those people. You will make friends with people from a variety of houses, and please do not assume that because they are in a certain house, they have the reputation of that house." Feeling her little speech was over with, she turned her back and walked forward once more, her robes sweeping behind her as the first-years followed her lead.
After leading them to their dormitories and giving them a review of the house rules and points, Hermione went to sit with Harry and Ron, who were playing wizard's chess in the middle of the common room.
"Snape's going to be on my case this year," Hermione said lazily as she analyzed their game. "And Malfoy's a prefect too. I'll bet you that I'll get paired up with him on our first assignments and patrols. I guess its the Gryffindor luck."
"C'mon Hermione," Ron said, waiting for Harry to move. "You'll show him; you're the best thing this place has seen since Dumbledore himself."
Hermione looked at Harry quickly, but he had found his move. "Pawn to E-4," he commanded. The piece moved to its place and smashed Ron's Bishop, which stood in its way. Ron groaned loudly, and shifted his attention back to the match.
While Ron was distracted, Hermione raised her eyebrows high at Harry, to indicate what she had felt about Ron's statement. Harry just shrugged and gave her a small smile. Hermione rolled her eyes at the both of them.
"I'm going up to bed," she announced to Harry and Ron as she started to climb the spiral staircase. "I've got a prefect meeting in the morning. You'd better get your rest too Ron, Quidditch try-outs are in the morning."
Ron just stared at her, opened mouthed, wondering how she could have known that he was vying for the Keeper position on the Gryffindor House team. He looked to Harry for an idea, but, of course, all Harry could do was smile and shrug once again.
Hermione allowed herself a well-deserved smile as she headed for her room. She had posted the Quidditch try-out posters on every common room bulletin board in the school, as well as the ones that resided in the Great Hall and on each floor of Hogwarts herself, so she knew that Ron would be trying- out, not only to be on the team, but to fulfill the shoes of the older self he saw in the Mirror of Erised. Hermione had heard the story many times over, but Ron was extremely determined.
Madam Hooch had given Hermione permission to do this favor for her before taking the first years to their dormitories. The fifth-year prefects were asked to stay and wait on the first-years as they finished their orientation, which was a new idea Dumbledore had formed, hoping to strengthen the house bonds.
Hermione stretched out on her familiar scarlet bed, and pulled out a copy of the Daily Prophet. She knew that the coming events would be extremely important, and with Rita gone for good, she knew that the news wouldn't be trash, in the Prophet or otherwise.
Hermione had turned her in to the libel court, and although her crimes weren't good enough to shut her away forever in Azkaban, Rita did receive a five-year sentence in St. Penn's Institute for Criminals far away in the remote Orkney Islands of Scotland.
She shuffled past the Sports and Health pages. Hermione just wasn't interested in the League Quidditch scores or who had been claimed at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies. Instead she flipped through the International reports until the Treaty of Zimbabwean Made Cauldrons no longer held her attention, and then she changed and went to bed, ready to start her fifth year at Hogwarts.
Draco was very zealous about his challenge, and knew that after he figured this one out, the next step would be initiation. That thrilled him completely, but after the dangerous first failed attempt, he knew that it would be harder than he had first expected, but surely Potter wouldn't be that hard to break.
He knew that Granger was a weak point, and truly suspected that Potter had a crush on her, and from the talks and assistance he had received from Voldemort, Draco knew that if you want to conquer someone, you didn't attack their body or their mind, but their heart. Weak was what his father always seemed to call it, and that was one of the worst things that a person could be to the Malfoys.
Draco had a very uneventful sorting and feast, but then again, he really wasn't looking for anything. All he knew was that he wished that Pansy would stop looking at him lovingly every five minutes; he didn't know how much of it he could take. So when Dumbledore announced that the fifth-year prefects were to stay behind with the first-years, Draco felt relieved.
As the others began to filter out of the hall, the fifth-year prefects stood beside the exits. Draco noticed the other prefects from the other three houses: He groaned to himself when he saw Granger. He knew that she was the obvious choice, but still, he didn't want to have to do two and three hour patrols with her. It would have been easier if the basilisk had finished her off. Galen Moon was the prefect from Ravenclaw. Draco really couldn't be satisfied or dissatisfied with him yet; in truth, he hadn't met Galen. And lastly, there was Hannah Abbot from Hufflepuff. Draco knew that Granger and Abbot got along well, and his father once told him that Hannah's father was offered the chance to be a death-eater during the first uprising, but declined. Draco, knowing how the Dark Lord hated to be denied, figured that they would be one of the first families to go in the Rebirth.
There were only nine new Slytherins, including Adam's younger brother Armand. Most of them knew Draco already, from meetings they had been forced to come to by their parents. After leading them to their rooms, he headed to his own. He talked to Blaise a little bit about the Quidditch try-outs and about the team this year. As Draco was the captain this year, surely they would win.
Draco went to bed fairly early, knowing that he would have to get up around 5:30 to make the prefect meeting at 7:00. And if there was one thing Draco Malfoy wasn't, it was late or unprepared. With that final thought, he turned off his reading lamp, and closed his ever-changing eyes.
"I'll see you guys later," Hermione called, as she ran up the stairs to empty her armload of books. "Good Luck!"
Both Harry and Ron exited through the portrait hole on their way to Quidditch try-outs. Harry had to attend since he was the new Gryffindor team captain, and he had plans to go into practice as soon as the position was filled. Their first game was against Slytherin on the twenty-ninth, so they couldn't waste any time.
Hermione set her school books down, and picked up a volume to keep herself occupied for the next half-an-hour, when she would go on patrol on the first through fourth floors, making sure that students who were lost found their way and that there were no pranksters lurking about the classrooms, including Peeves. She had been aware of these tasks before she became a prefect, but since Voldemort's comeback, Dumbledore promised concerned parents that there would be heightened security. So at least three times a week she'd be patrolling after dinner until 9:00. Unfortunately, Hermione was paired with Malfoy, and she felt that the patrol wasn't going to be a pleasant experience. They were to meet in the Great Hall at seven-thirty.
Draco hated when he had to wait on people, especially on those he hated. He leaned casually on one of the enormous doors of the Great Hall, his mind coursing over his situation. He looked over towards the staircase where Granger would be coming down sooner or later. Already there was a girl standing at the top of the stairs, obviously looking for someone. His eyes lingered on the girl for a moment, but opened wide in surprise when he realized who it was. Granger had decided to wait on the top of the staircase for him instead. Disbelief washed over him, and soon the bad- temper was back.
"Well, if it isn't the fawning half-faced Mudblood herself," Draco said scathingly, strutting over to the bottom of the staircase. Hermione turned around swiftly to focus on him.
"Hello to you too," she said sardonically, pacing down the stairs silently and quickly. "Let's go and get this over with, since it's plain to see that neither of us want to do this in the first place."
"Seriously, Granger," Draco drawled, crossing his arms as she brushed past him. "I think you are the most intelligent person this place has seen in at least one-hundred years."
"Don't lag, Malfoy," Hermione called, and she was pleased to hear Malfoy's scampering footsteps behind her as he tried to catch up.
Days came and went with no news of Voldemort from Dumbledore or the Daily Prophet. Tireless prefect duties with Malfoy were a constant for Hermione, while Harry and Ron were both busy with Quidditch, and of course, all were swamped with work.
The first game approached quickly, and soon Hermione was in the stands with Hagrid and Ginny, cheering for the two little scarlet blobs that were Harry and Ron, as well as the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Lee Jordan was doing his unforgettable commentary, as usual.
"And Bell passes to Spinnet. Back to Bell, and a bludger sent into the path of Withers, so Katie has a clear path.she shoots.and.the Slytherin keeper misses! Gryffindor in the lead, 10-0." Lee said, trying desperately to keep up with the fast paced game.
Ron was nervously watching the three goals, while Harry squinted around for the snitch. Although, while everyone's attention was on the game, Draco was waiting apprehensively for the perfect time to initiate his plan B.
While Harry searched for a tiny glimmer of gold, he noticed, as well as Hermione, Ginny, and Hagrid in the stands, that the Slytherin chasers were superb, and were giving Ron a terrible time. While they tried the Porskoff Play and the Woollongong Shimmy, only the Hawkshead Attacking Formation actually scored the Slytherins' ten points.
"Scoles passes, but its intercepted by Johnson. Watch out, Angelina, that's a bludger with the force of two beaters behind it, sent her way by the two Slytherin beaters Ghap and Rewins." It was amazing that Lee still had breath to speak. "MacDougal seems to be Slytherin's last hope before she reaches the goal posts. He hits, but is drove down. Johnson speeds towards the goal, and she. OH MY GOD!!!" One stern look from McGonagall changed that statement. "Sorry, I mean JIMENY CRICKET!!! MacDougal comes out from the blind side and nearly pulverizes Johnson, not only knocking the Quaffle from her hands, but almost succeeding in knocking her off her broom!"
Angelina was awarded a penalty shot, which she easily made, upping the Gryffindors to 20. If the snitch wasn't caught soon, this game could go on forever. Scoring was even until Slytherin was 20 points up, the score now 50-70, that's when Draco decided to put his plan into action.
Hermione and Ginny's voices were getting hoarse from cheering. The game had reached its two hour mark, and still there was no sign of the end. Hagrid left soon after Slytherin scored, saying that he had other business to attend to. The game was coming toward their end of the field again. Hermione's eyes were overcome by darkness, and she felt many arms shaking her, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't come back to the real world.
Draco flew beside Patrin, one of the Slytherin beaters, and wrenched his club of his hands. A bludger was zooming towards him, and he only had a few seconds to gain aim, and then he hit it and the bludger soared straight at Granger.
Hermione, it seemed, had no idea that a bludger was flailing towards her head, and Ginny tried in vain to get her attention or move her, as did three others that were around her. Ron noticed the bludger, but was trying to hold off another Slytherin score, so he couldn't help, but Harry could, and soon he was flying as fast as the Firebolt would carry him towards the bludger.
A burning print flashed quickly before Hermione's eyes; the Dark Mark. Then she could see the outside world again, only to focus on the brown bludger that was about half-a-meter from her face, and Harry close behind. Shock aside, she stared at the bludger before she realized what she was doing, and it froze just before her. Ginny stared, as did Harry, and soon almost everyone had turned their head.
Hermione didn't know what to do. She had learned to stop moving objects from her priestess training, and that subject was strictly forbidden at Hogwarts. And, to make matters worse, she didn't even have her wand, to pretend that she had done it by magic. Thankfully, Galen saved her, by standing up and pointing his wand at the immobile bludger, and forcing everyone to believe by reason that he had muttered the correct charm just in time to save Hermione.
Many people clapped for him, and he took a bow for added effect. The only ones who knew he was faking was Dumbledore, McGonagall, Hermione, and himself, but Draco had the feeling that something just wasn't right. In truth, Draco wasn't the only one that felt that there was something suspicious going on; Harry had stared Hermione in the eyes as the bludger stopped before her face; they were wide and fearful, and Harry looked around in bewilderment as he heard applause. His last look at Hermione was one of complete discombobulation.
"Freudian slip," chuckled Dumbledore to a very astonished and alarmed McGonagall.
Another penalty shot was rewarded to Gryffindor, and the score was 60-70. Although disoriented by the bludger, Harry caught the Snitch, giving Gryffindor their well-deserved win, and leaving everyone satisfied with the three hour spectacle of the game.
As Hermione left the stands, Ron came rushing towards her, asking her endlessly if she was all right, just as Ginny had done. After assuring him many times that she was unharmed, Ron took her aside from the crowds.
"Um.Hermione, well," Ron stuttered, trying desperately to find his wits. "Yeah, and well, anyway." he nervously ran his palm over the back of his neck. It seemed to Hermione that a veela had just crossed his path. "Will you be my girlfriend?" He looked at her earnestly with sincere azure eyes.
Hermione knew one day that it would have come, but, in reality, she had never suspected for it to come so soon. She gave him a look of utter shock and genuine surprise, and then she started muttering like him, although she was trying to think of the best way to keep her secret from him but not break his heart.
"Well, Ron," she said, though her mind was buzzing with thoughts of the Lady: What would she say right now? But Hermione was left hopeless without her wisdom, so she solved it in the best possible way she could think of at that very tense moment. "All right, I'll be your girlfriend."
Her heart almost broke in two when she saw his face glow brilliantly with happiness. How could she tell him that it would never work, no matter what, because of who she was? Would he think he was lying to her?
"Oh, Hermione!" Ron said, hugging her and giving her a kiss on the cheek. "You don't know how glad I am to finally hear that! I'll see you back in the Common Room!" and he turned and left to change in the locker rooms.
Guilt clutched her heart, and she walked out of the isolated place and into the almost empty stands, determined to clear her thoughts. Ginny had tried to come along, not only to talk, but also for protection, but Hermione made sure that no one followed her.
Harry had hung around to see how things with Ron and Hermione had went. He was happy for Ron, but something about the way Hermione acted was unusual, and then the bludger; there had to be something that Hermione wasn't telling them, and Harry knew it, although Hermione did her best to hide it from them. To Harry, Voldemort seemed hundreds of miles away from Hogwarts, since the trouble was all at school, and in the 5th year students it seemed. He watched Hermione carefully glide down the rows of stairs silently, and head out across the grounds. Finally, as Hermione had almost reached the Lake, Harry turned to join the team in celebration in the Common Room.
Hermione felt horrible. This was Ron, one of her best friends, a brother. How could she even attempt to tell him that she couldn't be his girlfriend because of her beliefs? Even to her that didn't sound very credible, but it was the truth. Another weight was added to her already heavy conscious and over-loaded mind. She headed back towards the castle, and noticed that Hagrid's house was lit up. Figuring that he was home, she went inside.
Hagrid stood up gruffly when he heard the barely audible knocks on his door. "Who is it?" he asked, his voice more hoarse than usual.
"Hermione," a soft voice fluttered through the door, and Hagrid quickly opened it to stare upon the distraught girl on his doorstep. She looked into his black eyes. "How did the meeting go?"
"Hermione what a pleasure it is to see you!" Hagrid said gruffly as he let her in. "What are you talking about? How are things up at the school?"
"Fine, Hagrid, as always," she said, wondering why he had avoided her question, and though she tried to sound like she truly meant it; it didn't work.
"There, there, Hermione, tell me what's going on," Hagrid said, sounding extremely concerned. "You have my full confidence."
"And you have mine," she said, referring back to her first question, sounding seemingly omniscient. "Hagrid, how did the meeting go?"
"All right, Hermione, you got me there, but first tell me what's goin' up there, I only see you three twice a week at most. Tell 'Arry and Ron to come see me some time." Hagrid said, scratching his chin.
"Well, they're why I'm here," she said, but that didn't sound right. She mulled it over once more before she corrected herself. "Actually, I'm why I'm here, Hagrid. There's something about me that you're not supposed to know; no one's supposed to know."
"Hermione," Hagrid said, now looking extremely worried and concerned. "What happened? Did someone do something to ya?" Hagrid was starting to sound frantic.
"No, Hagrid, calm down. It's nothing like that," said Hermione, a little surprised. "I am a priestess of Avalon, Hagrid."
A look of relief seem to wash over Hagrid, but it was only replaced by one of confusion, but once she explained, he understood.
"There's just one thing, Hermione," Hagrid said, again scratching his chin and looking thoughtful. "What does this have to do with Harry and Ron?"
"Because I am a priestess of Avalon, I give my life completely to the Goddess and I love whom she chooses," Hermione knew that this was hard for most people to comprehend, but that is how devoted priestesses were to be. "Ron is a friend, one of my best friends, but nothing more. He doesn't see it that way, but he doesn't know about Avalon, and I'm forbidden to reveal my secret.and I don't know if Ron will understand. I mean, it does sound extremely far-fetched."
"Hermione," Hagrid said gruffly. "I know what Minerva's told you, but the best thing I think you can do is tell both Harry and Ron the truth, and they, especially Ron, deserves to know."
"It just doesn't seem that simple to me," she said, feeling horrible. "This is exposing something that I have kept from them since we met, and keeping the time-turner a secret for one school year was such a big deal to them; what will they say about this? What will Harry say when he discovers that I know more about his mother than he does?" Hermione felt tears start to well in her eyes, but held them back.
"You can't kno-." Hagrid started, but Hermione interjected quickly.
"Hagrid, Harry has family, family that is alive!" She yelled. The tears were coming and she knew it, but she didn't care for once. "I'm sorry, Hagrid, I'm so sorry. How can I tell him, Hagrid, how?"
Hagrid did his best to comfort her, yet he insisted that the best way to deal with the situation was to reveal her covert life, but Hermione still wasn't sure. After a cup of tea, Hermione headed back up to the castle. When she arrived back in the common room, Ron and Harry rushed over to talk to her, but she complained of a headache, so they left her alone.
Draco was confused. After replaying and replaying the game's events in his head, he still couldn't find the flaw in his plan. His aim was perfect, his timing was flawless, but then again, he did get what he was looking for, but hurting Granger would have been a nice addition. Voldemort would pleased with what he had, and hopefully he would get something in return.
A dark circle of cloaks surrounded a small fire. Draco and the others waited upon Voldemort to arrive, and, in his own time, he did.
"Servants, you have returned," Voldemort hissed, his spindly fingers traced his jaw. "We will soon welcome those servants who are most faithful to me, but, in the meantime, Draco, I believe you and I have something to discuss. Come, I no longer trust half of my own disciples."
Draco's heart leaped out of pride, and yet it stuck in his throat because he was so nervous. This was, of course, the Dark Lord himself, and Voldemort was dependent on the information that he was providing. He forced his legs to move him forward, and they followed Voldemort to a secluded spot far from earshot and the prying eyes of the other death eaters.
"Well, Draco, what have you found?" Voldemort asked intently, boring into Draco with his narrow eyes. Draco now began to worry if he had found enough for him; would he be able to please the Dark Lord?
"Sir, you have instructed me well on how to extract the information you need from the mudblood," Draco said, hoping that he wouldn't be punished for his less than perfect performance, "but it was the err on my part, Lord. Still, I have not come to you empty-handed. I followed along your lines in that I suspected that Potter's weakness lie in Granger. During a school Quidditch game, I hit a bludger at her, hoping Potter would throw himself in front of her to save her. My plan was working, up until the last moment, when she opened her eyes and stared blankly at the bludger. It halted completely less than an inch from her nose, and no one else seemed to notice that she stopped it herself. She's not a regular witch, Lord."
"I see," Voldemort said, listening intently, but his mind was really buzzing. 'But you already knew that, didn't you. Damn you Narcissa!' he thought. But still, the boy was doing his absolute best, and, as Voldemort now saw, he was extremely inventive. Hopefully, he, Voldemort, could mold Draco into the most loyal and valuable follower he could ever have, almost like the son he never had. "Still, your efforts are not to go unrewarded."
Draco had no idea what to expect as an accolade from a Dark Lord, so he both cringed and looked surprised at the same time, which looked quite odd. Voldemort reached inside his robes and pulled out a small crystal vial decorated with an intricate Egyptian symbol. The vial was so minute that it fit in Draco's palm. The liquid inside was clear, even purer, it seemed, than the cleanest water one could ever find. It reminded Draco of the Truth serum that Snape had threatened Potter with last year.
"This, Draco, is a valuable gift that I have acquired from the ancient mediwizards of Egypt." Said Voldemort, clutching the vial tightly before dropping it into Draco's hand. "One drop of this is more potent than a whole liter of Veritaserum ever could be, but truth is not what it reveals."
Now aware that Voldemort could and was reading his mind, he made a mental note to never think about anything that related to Dragon Isle while he was around him. Voldemort may know that Narcissa had influences on him, but what he what he had not yet discovered was that Draco was still training to become the Merlin, and he was hard at work, trying to control the forces of nature that the God leaves at his fingertips.
"Keep it secret and keep it safe," Voldemort's red eyes pierced into Draco's, but Draco made sure his stare never faltered. A silent agreement was reached, and they left to return to the circle.
Lucius was not only relieved when he saw his son in one piece, but he was also suspicious. It would be his dying day when he saw his own son take his place in the circle of death eaters, and that was just his pride speaking, but then again, Draco was more than Lucius had first thought; more than Voldemort could even fathom.
"What are we going to do about him, Albus?" Minerva said, pacing about frantically. Albus was behind his desk, looking at letters from behind his familiar half-moon spectacles.
"Minerva," Albus said, a hint of impatience laced in his tone. "I can trust him because I know him. He is not your concern at all, and you cannot expect him to be. He is the concern of the God, the Goddess, and myself. He is just as exceptional as Hermione is and he is well on his way to fulfilling his purpose."
"Did you see what he did? How are they supposed to work for harmony and eternal peace?" Minerva had had enough. No matter how hard she tried to convince everyone on Avalon and herself, she was now at her breaking point.
"Lady, we are both overcome with work and worries, so I beseech you to no longer worry." Albus retorted, his blue eyes blazing. "You are not the Goddess herself, only her representation and paradigm on earth." Finality ran cold in his voice and she left in a huff.
Hermione truly suffered from no headache, but she was glad that she had silence and privacy. But still, after her mind stopped wondering, she became bored and starting obsessing about things that she usually wouldn't; like how messy her side of the dormitory was. While cleaning, she found the Daily Prophet she had thrown aside a few days ago. For once, the Health pages caught her attention. She read on and on about how Mrs. Kifler who had suffered from spontaneous cucumber growth from her ears had been claimed by her brother-in-law. It was the last name on the page that jumped out at Hermione the most.
"On Monday of this past week, Gilderoy Lockhart, a victim of extreme memory loss, was claimed by his cousin Brian Lockhart late on the night of September 27th."
Something didn't sit right about the name Brian. Over the many times that she had read Magical Me, she practically knew it by heart. She grabbed it from her bookshelf, and scanned it quickly, looking for the family tree. Her hunch turned out to be correct; underneath Gilderoy's father's brother's name was the cousin named Brian, but it wasn't that.it was Bryan. Now there were two possibilities that Hermione suspected could have happened. One, the secretary at St. Mungo's had copied the name down wrong, and two, the Daily Prophet could have misprinted it.
Right away, number two was out of the question, because there was an ad in the top right hand corner that read, "An offer of five-thousand galleons to the reader that can find one mistake." And as Hermione searched the rest of the health pages, although there were only two left, she found another small notice plastered at the very end of the last page. "All claimers must give their full name at the time of attainment. They must also show an ID which is copied for media purposes."
Hermione ran as fast as she could, past Harry and Ron, practically leaping down staircases flights at a time, to hopefully the one person that would listen to her, but maybe, just this once, she was wrong about something.
A/N: I AM BEGGING YOU DON'T KILL ME!!!!!! I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY..I PROMISE I'LL NEVER DO THIS AGAIN!!!!!!!! Just to show how repentant I am I promise that I'll get the next chapter out in two months (not much of a promise, eh?), but I will certainly never let this happen again. I will give you, however, The Second Summer of the Sisterhood by Ann Brashares (which totally rocks!), some chocolate truffles, the meaning of your name (which, if you really want, you can email me; my book will probably have your name), and a picture of Daniel Radcliff in a dress (which is in the May 5th addition of People magazine, which is available)!!! Have a wonderful day! Epequa