Broken
2003
by Stellar
"Underneath it all, we feel so small. The heavens fall, but still we crawl."
--Nine Inch Nails
Hermione Granger bolted through the halls of the Hogwarts Express, trying desperately to find an empty compartment to stay in so she could cry freely, hiding her tears from the world. However, there was a glitch in this particular expedition: all of the compartments were presumably full. She had almost given up, really, when she at last had made her way to the very back of the train and found the empty compartment that she was supposed to be in- the Head Boy and Girl compartment. It stood out from the rest, really, and she wondered how on earth she had missed it. There it was, at the very end of the hall and dead center, with it's shiny red doors glinting like hard candy in the steady, calm light of two scones set on the side. It was labeled in shiny brass lettering. She couldn't believe she hadn't thought about it before.
Just as she reached out to turn the brass knob, a thought crossed her mind. She was supposed to be sharing the compartment with Malfoy. She shuddered at the thought of that malicious brat waiting on the other side of the seemingly innocent and welcoming door, just waiting to make more biting comments. For a moment, Hermione Granger thought about turning around and going elsewhere -- to where she did not care, as long as it was away from that Slytherin prat - but it wasn't long before she dismissed the thought by her cool use of logic. If Malfoy was indeed in the compartment, she would just shut the door, turn around, and go back to the Head compartment that she had so rudely left and cry on Harry's shoulder. If he wasn't, she would remain and cry here. Besides, she was supposed to spend the whole year with this bloody wanker, so why should she run off in terror at the mere inclination that he might *possibly* be in the compartment before her? Good heavens, she was being ridiculous. Decisively, she turned the knob, expecting the worst.
It never came. The compartment was devoid of any blonde, aristocratic wankers for the time being. She gratefully sighed, went over to the neatly cushioned bench, laid down, and began to cry. Curling up into a nearly fetal position, Hermione let her tears soak her unruly curly hair that was sprawled about her as she thought about what Malfoy had said... It had been true, really. She didn't really have much of a social life outside of Harry Potter and Ron Weasely. Sniffing, she curled up as closely as possible to the soft, velvety cushions. And she did bury her nose in books to block out the sound of her parents arguing. Mind you, she buried her nose in books for other things than that, obviously, for the gain of knowledge and such... It was just that, honestly, Malfoy had struck a chord with her; a very, very sensitive chord at that. Apparently, she had made it obvious enough for even Malfoy to point out, and it hurt her that such private thoughts and feelings of hers could be exploited by the likes of one particularly snotty Slytherin, of all people.
After fifteen minutes of frustrating pondering over Malfoy's insight into her personal affairs, as well as accumulating new evidence to support her hatred of the smarmy git, Hermione Granger fell asleep naming off alliterations to Malfoy's, in her opinion, foul being. Mean, malicious, meddling Malfoy....
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
In the Head compartment, Harry Potter stared after the door were Hermione and Malfoy had left. Behind him, McGonagall was standing with one hand holding her chin, her other arm supporting it below in a thoughtful position. Snape was next to her, arms crossed moodily, and he stood perfectly still, rigid, even. McGonagall turned to Harry.
"Potter, are they always like this to one another?" she asked, obviously hoping that this was a one-time event.
"Worse," Harry said, nodding, much to her disappointment.
Snape emitted a sound then that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle, but Harry dismissed it quickly. Apparently, Snape had been clearing his throat. "Might I suggest, Minerva, that we devise a plan to keep Mister Malfoy and Miss Granger from being at each others throats whilst they stay in the joint dormitories?"
McGonagall turned and glared. "And how, Severus, are we going to do that? You saw how they acted around one another."
Snape kept his arms crossed, and it was obvious that there were tensions between the two professors. "Perhaps create portrait holes that connect directly to Mister Malfoy and Miss Granger's common rooms? That way, if they begin to fight, they can leave to go to their own dormitories."
McGonagall stiffened, and it was apparent that even though she would hate to admit it, Snape had a rather good idea. "I will make arrangements with Albus," she said shortly, and then turned to Harry. "Mister Potter, you are dismissed. I believe you have two friends that could use you right now."
Harry nodded quickly and left the compartment, closing the door behind him. He began to look for Hermione, as she ran out of the compartment sobbing. He searched for nearly fifteen minutes, and, deciding that she must not want to be found and needed time for herself, he gave up and began to look for Ron. It wasn't long until he found him, seated alone in a compartment, looking completely miserable.
Ron Weasely ran his thick, rough hands through his already-tousled hair. He looked quite a fright, sitting stiffly on the compartment bench, hunching over quite a bit, his elbows on his rather square knees, jaw clenched rigidly, clutching his forehead in agony. He couldn't believe he did it. He just couldn't believe it. Across from him now stood his best friend, Harry Potter, who surveyed him carefully over the black rims of his glasses. The silence was deafening.
Harry spoke up first. "Well, this certainly has been an interesting day so far," he said carefully, waiting for Ron's reaction.
Ron snorted, but didn't move a muscle from his miserable position. "To say the least."
Harry shifted his weight uncertainly from one foot to the other, pursing his lips together in thought and wondering if he should press on. Well, it was now or never, right? "So," he began slowly, regarding his best friend cautiously, "why did, you know...exactly how...with...you know...in Slytherin...Parkinson?" he managed.
It was a good thing Ron understood. Ron held up a hand to stop Harry from making a complete fool of himself "Harry, don't. I don't want to talk about it."
Harry made a rather indigent snort. "Ron, come off it. It's not that bad- you only got off with detentions. You know it could have been much, much worse."
Ron sighed enormously. "Yes, Harry, I know.... But honestly, it is that bad. You know we didn't just kiss and..."
"I know that, Ron. I could tell from the look on your face," Harry cut in, though it probably wasn't entirely wise, as Ron started to glare at him. "Well, you just got off with a detention, what are you so worried about?"
Ron screwed up his face as if he'd rather not talk about it, but finally sighed and gave in. He sighed wearily and looked up at Harry with a bleary expression, who looked back at him, blinking behind his glasses expectantly. "Harry, it was unprotected."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Draco Malfoy had been moodily sulking through the corridors of the compartment, intimidating the younger students with his evil glares and biting remarks as often as possible. It was, in a way, his version of venting. This way, he could get out all of his frustrations without having to cry like some ninny or kill someone, even though he still felt the latter was rather appealing in many ways. Now, he had throughly insulted nearly everyone that had been in the corridors at least twice, and he was growing rather bored of it. Now, he felt like being alone. He needed time to think...Time to sort things out in his head...How has that mudblood pinned him to a tee anyway? He was now throughly pissed. He felt vulnerable. He did not cope well with that because, quite frankly, it rarely ever happened in his life. Bugger, how he hated that Granger.
He scowled, deciding to go back to the compartment he had been in before this whole row. Quite literally flinging younger students out of the way, he cleared a path down the corridor to the compartment. Once he reached the shiny red door, he impatiently turned the brass knob and quickly closed the door behind him. His eyes, out of pure habit, quickly absorbed all of his surroundings to make sure there were no intruders. However, he was slightly surprised when his eyes fell on a girl with an unruly mess of curly brown hair, her back facing him. He recognized her instantly.Granger, his mind cursed.
He walked up to her slowly, cautiously, making sure not to awake her. As he came creeping up behind her, his thoughts grew more and more malicious. He was practically touching her now, and in order to see her face, he leaned over her carefully and peered. There, nestled up neatly to the deep red cushion, was the Gryffindor that had caused him so much trouble. Funny, though, because the way the dim lighting in the compartment was playing on her features, the way her rosy lips were slightly parted, the way her rich brown hair framed her face, she didn't look as hideous as he had remembered at all. In fact, he thought she almost looked...innocent.
Draco Malfoy licked his lips hungrily, craving what was going to come next. Craving for just a bit of that innocence to be corrupted by himself, he leaned forward, coming in very close to the oblivious, sleeping Hermione Granger. He was so close now, her curly brown hair was soft against his face, his mouth moving closer, the old glint in his silver eyes. Almost there now... He was taking his time, being excruciatingly careful as to not wake her. He looked over the side of her face, making sure her eyes weren't open...He didn't necessarily want her to know what he was going to do, wanting it to be a surprise. He took one last look at that innocent face, closed his eyes, open his lips slightly, and----
"WAKE UP, MUDBLOOD!!!" he screamed into her ear.
There. That fixed the looking-too-innocent problem.
It was all Hermione could do to keep her heart from jumping out of her chest. Her brown eyes snapped open, her throat emitted a short, surprised yelp, and she clamped a hand over her now-throbbing ear. She bolted up right, turning around to face the offender, who was now laughing whole-heartedly. Waking up from her fairly deep sleep, it took a few seconds for her to realize who it was. The silver-blonde hair, gray-coloured eyes, pale, smooth complexion....Draco Malfoy, Slytherin, Head Boy, she registered. Then, without hesitating, she took a step towards him, drew her arm back sharply, and punched him square in the eye.
Malfoy toppled over, both hands clutching his right eye, but not before letting out a painful gasp that caught in his throat. Hermione Granger walked up to his crouched position on the floor, her hands on her hips. "Malfoy, what are you playing at?" she barked, looking angrily down at him, who just stared blankly up at her, his hand still covering his eye. "I was sleeping, you know. It wasn't as if I had done anything to you. You had no right to do that! Explain yourself!" she demanded, stomping her foot for emphasis.
Malfoy smirked up at her. "Oh, come off it, Granger. I was just waking you up. In case you haven't noticed, we're nearing Hogwarts and the train's about to stop. No reason to hit me in the face, thank you very much."
Hermione glared down at him. "You're welcome," she snapped.
Draco scoffed and got up, straightening his robes. "No need to get in such a tizzy, mudblood. Can't have you getting to excited with me in the same compartment," he sneered suggestively.
"Oh, do grow up."
"In case you haven't noticed, mudblood, I have," he said calmly. He looked down at her then, and his eyes scanned every inch of her body. Hermione felt as though he was virtually stripping her with his eyes. Finally, he seemed to have reached some sort of satisfaction, because he smirked. "Obviously, you've got quite a way to go... Or are you just naturally disfigured?" he added.
Hermione promptly took the opportunity to slap him across the cheek, hard.
She had pushed it too far. Before her hand left his face, Draco Malfoy, out of reflexes bourne from years of Quidditch training, snatched up her wrist, twisted it painfully up behind her back, and pinned her against the wall. He quickly grabbed her other wrist and pinned it above her head. Using his torso, he leaned in on her, flattening her against the richly-hued walls to the point where she could no longer move. Hermione was rendered helpless. She stared up at him, fear creeping up into her deep brown eyes that reflected his face reluctantly. His silver eyes pierced her consciousness, and Hermione Granger was becoming increasingly aware of how very alone she was with a dangerous son of a relentless Death Eater.
"I'm in no mood to deal with your antics today, you filthy little mudblood," he said in a voice that was dangerously low. He glared down at her, malice twitching on his face as he looked upon her in disgust. "You've been enough of a hindrance in my life thus far, and I do not need you to go and make it any worse. Do you understand, or was that too much for you to comprehend, Granger?"
Hermione was petrified. She was pinned against the wall by her worst enemy, who was significantly bigger and stronger than her, was the son of a Death Eater, loathed her, and looked positively mutinous. She gulped. Her mind was racing, eyes darting to the only door in the room, her mind screaming to find a way out.
Draco tightened his grip on her wrists and began to twist them roughly. He pushed her harder up against the wall. Hermione let out a howl of pain, her ribs crushing in on her, feeling like they were going to break, her wrists being wrung into angry, fiery rings by the demon before her. "Understand?" he asked again, smoothly, his voice still abnormally low and in a dangerous whisper. He twisted harder, and Hermione let out another howl.
"I-I understand!" she managed to gasp.
Draco Malfoy smirked at her then, and let go quickly, causing Hermione to sink to the floor, coughing, clutching her ribs and caressing her tortured wrists. Saying nothing, he left abruptly with a flourish of his death-black robes, Hermione sputtering to herself in the compartment.
Hermione was breathing erratically after such an encounter. She had once believed herself to be strong, physically speaking, but Malfoy... He was leagues ahead of her. She put a shaking hand to her ribs, cradling them, and another hand on a wall to help balance her as she stood up. Never had she felt so helpless, weak, leaning against a wall for support.
Then, she realized what she was thinking, and a quote surfaced quickly into her mind: "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." Hermione's brown eyes shot open as she felt her anger and hatred boil up inside her from deep within.
Draco's blonde head popped back into the compartment and he smirked. "Put yourself together, Granger. Train's about to arrive at Hogwarts. We have to make sure the prefects and students get off the train. Don't want anyone left behind, do we?"
She glared at him and bravely stood up.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Harry Potter just gaped at his misery-ridden best friend like a goldfish out of water. He didn't know what to say, what to do, what to think; so, he just stood there like some great idiot. Then, it hit him, finally sinking in. "Unprotected?" he said, his stomach dropping out.
Ron nodded miserably, his head, if possible, pressing harder into his hands.
"But why?" Harry asked, dumbfounded. "And why Parkinson?"
"Harry, I- I.....I dunno," he stammered nervously. "She was just sitting there, in that short pink-coloured skirt....The blonde hair...Her legs were uncrossed...." He shook his head angrily, his roughed-up red hair sticking up on ends. "I just...It...It was...like animal...whatsit?...animal magnetism."
Harry just stared."Why'd you do it unprotected?"
Ron shook his head again and averted his eyes to the floor. "Well," he began, sucking in his breath as if he were desperate, and in a away he was, "it was just the heat of the moment, I guess. She just came onto me, flung herself at me... You should've seen what she was doing, Harry... I couldn't help it.. I-I...." Ron let out the air in his lungs, defeated. "I just gave in."
Harry just stood there, stupidly. Then, a thought struck him. "Er....does Lavender know?"
Ron's blue eyes shot open quickly, slightly bulging out. It was as if realization had just punched him in the gut, hard. Ron doubled over, burying his freckled face in his hands yet again, emitting a frustrated, angry scream at himself.
Harry took that as a rather blatant "No."
Ron's body began to shake horribly, then, and it occurred to Harry that Ron was either A) angry, or B) crying. Worried, he quickly bent down to Ron, who had his head on his knees. "Ron? Ron, are you okay? Is there anything I can do?" he asked, genuinely concerned.
Ron promptly screamed again, obviously furious with himself. His whole body had now turned the approximate colour of his flaming red hair, and he was positively glowing with rage. Harry was almost scared...He had never seen his best friend this mad before. Harry regarded Ron carefully with his bottle-green eyes. He watched as Ron's rib cage sharply contracted, and it took a split second to realize that he was crying. Ron finally leaned back, defeated, the hot tears silently falling down his freckled cheeks. He sniffed, ashamed of himself.
"Harry, I don't know what to do," he said miserably, looking suddenly at his best friend. He ran a shaking hand through his mass of now-untidy hair. "I love Lav, I really do... I just slipped up. I-I don't know what to do...I don't know how I'll tell her, you know? She's never done anything wrong..She's perfect, Harry, perfect to me...I don't know what came over me.... I don't think she'll ever forgive me," he said the last sentence with a bitter tone, and Harry automatically knew the bitter tone was toward himself; Harry knew that Ron would never forgive himself for what he had done.
Ron let out one slow, miserable sigh.
Just then, the door banged open, and a very pretty witch with tendrils of golden-blonde hair stood in the doorframe, her winning smile shining brightly.
Ron grew pale in apprehension, his freckles, once lost in his angry redness, were now shown in stark comparison.
Lavender.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hermione followed Malfoy to the front compartments defiantly, her jaw clenched shut but her head held up bravely, her stride quick, determined, dutiful. Draco Malfoy, however, was easily strolling through the corridor as if it were a leisurely and pleasant walk; indeed, he seemed to positively glide through with the utmost grace. Of course, Hermione Granger did not know that this was not his arrogance shining through, but instead it was years and years of acquired skilled, conceived carefully under the disdainful cold, glaring stare of his father. Opting for what she figured to be true, she scowled at the back of his platinum-topped head. He must have sensed it, for in an impossibly quick blur of billowing black robes, he stopped, turned around and caught her glare, that quickly melted into surprise, before resigning back to a glare.
He smirked. "What, Granger? Can't get enough of my good looks?"
She snorted with contempt. "Hardly," she growled.
He flashed her a wicked quick grin and a raised eyebrow. "Suit yourself," he said smugly before turning back around and resuming his usual "arrogant" stride.
Hermione rolled her eyes and mumbled quite under her breath, "Tosser."
Draco looked back over his shoulder. "I heard that," he snapped.
Hermione glared at him defiantly. "I said it out loud, didn't I?"
He almost laughed, but though better of it. So, the little mudblood has a bit of a spark in her, eh? Good. This is going to be one hell of a ride he thought amusedly.
It wasn't long before they reached the first two compartments on the train that contained the prefects. Draco, not being one to hesitate on anything, bulged through the door loudly, scaring the unsuspecting prefects playing a quick game of Exploding Snap. One prefect, a younger boy from Ravenclaw, apparently forgot his turn upon their arrival. BANG! It had exploded, and there was now a thin layer of smoke that hung in the room.
Draco glared down disapprovingly at the prefects before him as Hermione took her turn to glared up at the Head Boy. "Honestly, Malfoy, there's no need to be rude!"she barked furiously. She did not have a full view of his face, but she could see from where she was standing the beginnings of a very blue and purple bruise forming around his eye from where she had punched him not to long ago. She smirked with satisfaction.
He turned to her and glared, taking her aback from her observation. "Then shut your mouth," he hissed.
The prefects all exchanged nervous glances at one another. To them, the two looked positively murderous, and they where all quick to notice that each of them had their hands clutched strongly around their wands, and Hermione Granger's knuckles were turning white. Reluctantly, she turned her head sharply to the prefects, breaking the glaring contest between the Slytherin and herself.
At the sight of the younger students before her, her gaze softened; Draco, however, kept his dangerously silver eyes locked on her as she began to speak. "As you know, we are to ensure that all students on this train get off once we arrive at Hogwarts and that the first years make it safely into their boats with as few setbacks as possible," she stated plainly, but with a slight smile on her face. "After this is accomplished, we are to report to the staff room where we receive passwords to the dormitories and prefect bathrooms for this year. Is that all clear?"
Once they had all nodded, Hermione smiled, satisfied, and began issuing duties to the prefects. "Right then. You, Terry," she said, motioning to a scrawny, pale Ravenclaw boy, "You take the first section of compartments. Make sure everyone gets off the train. Don't forget to double-check the compartments." He nodded and stepped out of the compartment, going down the corridor to take his position before the train began to reach its destination.
"Ginny," she said, smiling down at her good friend and the youngest Weasely, "you take the second section." Ginny nodded and smiled, filing out behind Terry.
"Francis, you take the third section." The younger Hufflepuff smiled and followed suit.
Hermione turned to the Slytherin prefect, who was sitting moodily in the corner, arms crossed stubbornly against his chest, his dark hair falling wildly on his forehead, glaring with utmost hatred at the newly-appointed Head Girl. Hermione glared back, matching his loathing and slightly surpassing it. She opened her mouth, no doubt a harsh tone and words to follow, before Draco Malfoy abruptly cut her off.
"Sarcadre," he shot out, issuing the younger Slytherin by his surname, his silver eyes glinting dangerously. Sarcadre quickly broke his stare from the Gryffindor and sharply looked at Draco, apprehension dawning on his face. Hermione could've sworn that she saw fear flicker slightly across the dark-haired boy's face. "Fourth section, now!" Malfoy demanded, and the other Slytherin jumped up quickly and hurried out of the compartment, averting his gaze from Draco Malfoy on his way out.
Hermione looked up at him, aghast. "Y-you didn't have to be so mean about it!"she stammered, taken aback. She was used to his harshness towards herself and fellow Gryffindors, but she had never imagined that he was this sharp with his fellow Slytherins.
Draco smirked down at her confused face. "That's Barron Sarcadre," he said simply, as if commenting on the weather. "He'll answer to know mudblood, Head Girl or not. He only follows orders of those socially higher than himself," he said pompously, "like me."
Hermione was ablaze at the blatant display of prejudice, and was about to give the infamous Draco Malfoy a good piece of her mind before he cut her off, again.
"That's just the way he is, Granger. He's not about to change. You saw just now exactly how stubborn he is, even over the slightest issues," he said knowingly, looking bored. "Now, come on. We've got to get at our stations," he said, quickly stepping out of the compartment and heading down the corridor, leaving Hermione Granger to herself in the compartment. She let out a quick exasperated scream to herself at Malfoy's insolence before chasing out after him.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Lavender Brown stood in the doorway, positively glowing with affection and love for her freckled boyfriend before her, who was returning her adoring gaze with a miserable stare of apprehension, his complexion paling more rapidly by the second.
Harry Potter was growing increasingly uncomfortable in this situation. He looked from Ron to Lavender and back to Ron again. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Er...well, I'll leave you two alone, then," he said awkwardly. He quickly turned and walked out the doorframe, passing Lavender, who apparently thought that this motion was to give her and Ron time to, er, physically make up for time lost, as she quickly blushed and whispered a quick thanks to Harry as he left.
As soon as he was out of the door, Lavender eagerly shut it behind him, and Harry took his queue to walk as fast as possible away from the compartment, not wanting to be near it when the news broke. As he was leaving, he heard mumbling voices issuing from the compartment. Soon, the mumbling turned into a low roar, and it wasn't long before a long, piercing scream of pain met his ears. Harry winced and quickened his pace. Behind him, a brilliant red compartment door with the shiny brass number twenty-three nailed onto the front of it burst open, and the sound of the fight increased significantly with the barrier of the door now out of the way. One throughly upset Lavender Brown was now out in the corridor, tears streaming down her betrayed face, and her screams at her significant other were now bouncing off the narrow walls. Other doors of the corridor began to open, curious head popping out to see what was going on. They were met with Lavender's apparent rage. Harry could no longer move; he stood dumbly in the hallway, the screams filling his ears angrily.
"RONALD WEASELY, HOW COULD YOU?!"she shrieked, utterly oblivious to the stares she was receiving. "AFTER TWO YEARS! I'D NEVER, IN ALL MY LIFE-- WITH A SLYTHERIN! WHAT WHERE YOU THINKING! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME, TO US?!"she bellowed furiously, tears hotly flowing down her beautiful face.
Harry feared the worst....He knew what was going to happen, but with his feet rooted in place, his eyes squeezed impossibly tight, his jaw clenched, he was praying beyond all reason that Ron would not lose his temper. He prayed for his friend to keep his mouth shut, to not let his anger and frustration at himself escape past his mouth and pour out onto and already-upset Lavender Brown.
"WELL, I COULDN'T HELP IT! MAYBE IF YOU WORE THOSE SHORT PINK SKIRT THINGS, THEN I WOULD FUCK YOU INSTEAD!!!"he yelled back at her.
Harry's eyes snapped open and he turned to look at the scene. Too late. It had come out horribly, horribly wrong. However, before Ron could take it back, Lavender began twisting furiously at a small gold ring that was around her finger. Harry cringed. It was the promise ring Ron had given to Lavender last year, when he swore his undying love to her and promised that as soon as he graduated and had a decent-paying job, he would buy her a real engagement ring and marry her. Harry remembered how thrilled Lavender had been to receive it, how she had thrown her arms around Ron and hugged him, planting kisses all over his face as the rest of the Gryffindors in the common room cheered them on....And now, now that ring was promptly being thrown back at the man she loved in righteous fury, hitting him squarely on the forehead. "I loved you, Ron, I really did," Harry heard her whisper painfully, "but I guess I just wasn't enough for you," she choked. She turned sharply and broke into a run, bristling past Harry as she furiously blinked at her tears, her anguished sobs resonating against the stark, cold walls of the corridor.
Ron slowly walked out of the compartment, his face unbelievably red, his blue eyes welled up. A few tears streaked down his face as he stared painfully after the woman he was still madly in love with. Harry's heart broke as he watched his best friend in agony as Ron's quick, sharp scream of agony reverberated in the corridor. Suddenly, Ron was thrashing at the wall, screaming, kicking, punching at it until he finally sank to his knees, his face pressed deeply into his hands, muttering Lavender's name over and over, wishing her to still be his, for their broken relationship to be healed as the train came to a slow halt.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
DISCLAIMER: All JK's save the plot (which has much developing to do). Obviously. I mean, this is FAN fiction, isn't it?
Author's Note: Oh, dear. I've created quite a mess, haven't I? I feel bad for the characters now that they are at my will..... If I didn't know what was going to happen later, I would be furious with myself for putting everyone through this misery. So sorry. Anywho, what did you all think of this chapter? Was it any good? I'm afraid I might have duffed this one up a bit... Hope I haven't failed too miserably. Sorry about getting this out so late, but I've been so very busy with my artwork lately that I've simply not had the time. The next chapter is going to be tremendously long... I've started on it, and already it's longer than this one... Hope you don't mind too much. Please, please, pretty, pretty please review! You have no idea how excited I get when I receive a review... I rush to my email every day, waiting for it....When I see that I have one, I start grinning like some great idiot as if I've got the answer to the meaning of life or something equivalent...Then I start reading it. That's where the worst part comes, see, I start talking to myself, making comments saying how much I agree or disagree, laugh at the choice commentary, cry, all that rubbish. It's really quite ridiculous, mind you, but it makes me happy, truly. Right, then. To show my gratitude for those wonderful reviews, here it goes, at the end of every chapter:
THE THANK YOU'S:
starbright: To my very first reviewer under this pen name! Thank you for taking the time to review, as you said you usually don't. Glad that I've got you fascinated, and, obviously, I am continuing the story. As for my other works, you can check my old pseudonym, Hype, which still has my other works available for reading. Enjoy!
Aspiring Autumn: Glad that you do.
galena: Yes, I can email you updates, but I must warn you that I am rather sporadic.
pampers: Thank you ever so much!
lily: Thanks! Hopefully, you haven't waited too long?
Crestomanchi: Thank you for your input. As for Mrs. Malfoy's usage of the word "motherfucker," that may be true, but remember that not all things said in life are meant to be taken so literally...At least, in this case, I certainly hope not!:)
Blue Angel: I've got you on your toes, have I? *grins evilly*
Alexia: Happy that you enjoy my story thus far; hopefully, I can write it fast enough to keep you satisfied, eh?
JennFelton: Yes, I do chose rather colourful words, don't I? All for the sake of imagery and dialect, of course...I'm updating as quickly as I can.
Bambi: I QUITE agree with you in particular. Not as much applying to my fiction, but to several of my favorites, it always seems that the good, promising stories miss out on ample reviews. It didn't used to be that way here, but the decline in taste of writing us evident amongst many of our readers today. Anywho, thank you very much for the wonderful compliment on my writing, as it is much appreciated. As for Draco staying in character, I've worked very hard on it. Not only is he a wonderful character to discover, but he is also one of the most potential characters when writing fictions, as not an entire lot is known about him personally. I do intend to keep him in his original prat-form. As for Draco and Hermione's rather harsh home lives, I must say that yes, I did do that to portray the dysfunctional situation, but it will not remain as harsh. With Hermione's parents I have a virtually blank canvas to work with. They will develop further in later chapters in which their presence and influence is greatly needed. As for the intense cursing, sorry, but it is staying. Sometimes it takes an extra few biting words to fit the entire feeling in place. As for Ron and Pansy, their stories will develop (obviously), may it be good or bad. I'm keeping my lips sealed on that one. Things will later be revealed that will be vital to the story, it's just that the first few chapters are to set characters, setting, mood, and tone before jumping to the plot, so do bear with me. Again, thank you for your wonderful review! Kudos!:)
Blanche Dubois: Thank you! I don't think I'm that great of a writer, though... Hopefully you're not reading this just because it's rated "R", though?...
DarkAngelB: Yes, it's shaping out to be a rather lovely year, isn't it? Glad I made you laugh....Hopefully, it was in a good way! ^_^
ravenclaw-gal: Oh, you haven't the slightest of just how interesting this year is going to be, yet......
Right, then. Many thanks to my wonderful reviewers!!!!! Honestly, you guys just make my day!
Hey, want to make my day again?
Please review.
Please?
Pretty please?
Pretty, pretty please?
Pretty, pretty, pretty please?
Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty please?
That's a lot of pretty's. How about a.... Por favor?
If I knew how to say it in French, I would.
I really would.
Because your reviews mean that much to me.
That, and I am desperate for feedback.
Really desperate.
Really, really desperate.....
Obviously.
So please?
I'll take constructive criticism.
I will.
No, really, I will.
I'll take flames, too...
But bear in mind that I humiliate flamers if they leave a very stupid flame that does not show off their intellect.
Because I want them to know how much I appreciate their words...
And if it's a flame, I'll tell them just how much appreciation they get when they kiss my ass.
Because flames are useless to all writers.
So, what are you? Chicken?
Are you a not reviewing? Wow, you're such a chicken.
Honestly, now, what've you got to hide?
Some deep, dark secret that can be completely excluded in a simple review?
Uh-huh. That's what I thought. Chicken.
SO DON'T BE A CHICKEN, BE A MAN (OR WOMAN!!!) AND REVIEW!!! (Right then. I'm quite done now, thank you.)
