THE MANOR
Disclaimer: Virtually all of this is JKR's, except for a few characters you may not recognise. They're mine. Hands off!
Chapter 14 – The Meeting and the Manor
Ginny sat back down on a chair in Dumbledore's study, breathing hard. She had just gathered Professor Figg, who was currently talking to Dumbledore in low serious tones, along with Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick.
She watched, wide eyed, scared for her brother, Hermione, and Harry. After a few minutes, George returned with Professor Snape. Ginny gave him a guarded look. She knew he was supposed to be allied with the forces of good, but still, she felt apprehensive about the hooked-nose Potions master, although, after watching his seriously intent black eyes as he headed towards Dumbledore, and the look of acceptance that the Headmaster gave him, she felt just a bit more comforted.
By about four o'clock, however, Ginny was thoroughly bored. Professor Dumbledore had suggested much earlier to the three Weasleys that they could return to classes if they wanted, but all three had refused vehemently. They wanted in on the action that usually only the famous trio got. Besides, what was the point in going to History of Magic or Divination? Dumbledore had nodded, a faint smile on his face, and with a wave of his wand, had produced a plate of sandwiches for them to eat some lunch.
Now, Ginny was sprawled in her seat, idly watching Professor Dumbledore who was flicking through some heavy tomes of books. Professor McGonagall, Flitwick and Snape had left earlier to see to their students, but Professor Figg had remained, and was sitting in a corner, muttering to herself, eyes narrowed in thought.
Then, just when Ginny had a mind to go and leave, the doors to the study opened and a stranger walked in. Dumbledore and Arabella Figg, currently talking in a speech spell to somebody else, gave nods of welcome to the newcomer, who smiled back. Then, seeing nobody else, came over to Ginny.
'Hello,' he introduced himself with a wide grin. 'Jeremy Codex, at your service. You may call be Jem, if you please,' he added graciously.
Ginny couldn't help smiling. Something about his cheerful appearance and slightly outdated style of speech was somehow easy to take to.
'I'm Ginny Weasley,' Ginny introduced herself in turn.
'Lovely to meet you, my dear,' Jem Codex took her hand, and kissed it lightly, making Ginny blush all over. He looked to be about her age, maybe just a little older, with short, sandy hair, dancing hazel eyes, and just slightly pert nose. He wasn't terribly tall – probably about Harry's height, and was built leanly. He was kind of cute, actually, Ginny realised fairly quickly, and was dressed in slightly scruffy jeans, combat boots, and t-shirt.
'Stop flirting with the poor girl, Jem,' Arabella Figg growled over at the newcomer.
'Flirting!' Jem protested. 'I'm only getting acquainted, Arabella! Surely you wouldn't deny me that!'
Arabella snorted. 'Charmer,' she said, rolled her eyes, and went back to talking urgently through the speech spell.
Ginny, still blushing, stared at Jem. 'Are you a student?' At the merry burst of laughter that emitted from Jem, she flushed even redder. 'I mean, you look my age, but I don't think I've ever seen you at Hogwarts. You don't act like a student,' she added.
Jem grinned. 'I was a student at Hogwarts, a fair while ago.'
'So you're older,' Ginny said deductively.
'A fair bit,' he agreed amiably. 'I'm older than Arabella, although ever since she got on in her years she thinks it's fine for her to act older than me and boss me around.'
'How old are you?' Ginny asked, eyes wide.
Jem sighed. 'If I looked my age, I'd probably look like this.' Then, he seemed to blur, and before her stood a man in his seventies, with long white hair, wrinkled skin, and tired, hunched back. Ginny gaped, even as the man blurred, and turned back into Jem.
'What are you?' she asked, voice low, in awe. Fred and George, who had been sitting in a corner, boredly discussing their business, were also watching, eyes admiringly and apprehensively fixed on Jem.
'I'm a Metamorphmagus,' Jem shrugged.
'So why are you looking like you're a student? To try and become friends with us?' Ginny demanded.
Jem laughed. 'My dear, I wouldn't go into such extremes!' He stopped laughing a little, to explain. 'No, I first Metamorphed when I was sixteen, and I guess that is why my permanent form, the one I have when I'm not making any effort to Metamorph, is that of my sixteen-year old self.'
'So you really look like that old man earlier,' George said, wondering.
Jem shook his head. 'I don't know what I look like, what an older version of myself would look like. I can't seem to change myself into another age of me.' His expression turned slightly bitter. 'I'm doomed to remain eternally young, until the day I die.'
'Wouldn't most people want that?' Fred inquired shrewdly.
'Idiots would,' Jem said shortly. 'To do proper things in life, I have to take a form not myself. I'm never me.'
'I'm sorry,' Ginny said softly.
Jem smiled. 'Don't be, my dear,' he said. 'There are good and bad sides to being a natural Metamorphmagus. The good side is the fact that I can change my shape at will.'
'Are there any other Metamorphmaguses? I'd never heard of it before,' George said, staring.
'Metamorphmagi,' Jem corrected. 'There aren't many, and there are varying degrees of skill at this. There was only one other Metamorphmagus in history before me who was as talented as I am,' Jem explained. 'Now, there is me, and only one other like myself. You will get others, but they're not quite as naturally advanced. They also tend to age, unlike myself.'
'Cool,' George said.
'Not really,' Jem said shortly, his boyish, ingenuous face darkening. The Weasleys looked at each other, uncomfortable, and Fred deftly changed the topic.
'Is it hard, or painful or anything?' the other twin asked, fascinated.
Jem smiled. 'It was at first, but not any more,' Jem demonstrated at that moment, changing himself into a cat, and then into one of the Weasley twins, startling Ginny at the sight of triplets! He then continued talking about his shapeshifting abilities while others arrived in a steady trickle.
Of the three members of the Order of the Phoenix who arrived last, two were easily recognisable by the Weasleys.
'Professor Lupin!' Ginny smiled happily to see the grey-haired werewolf who had been her Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher when she had been in her second year. Remus Lupin smiled to see the three Weasleys, his haggard face lighting up momentarily.
Fred and George, though, had their hands pointed trembling at the tall man, with longish, black hair, who had walked in next to Remus Lupin.
'Sirius Black!' they gasped in unison. Ginny jumped, turning her attention to the escaped convict who had killed thirteen people with one killing curse. In a flash all three Weasleys had their wands out and pointed at the black-haired man.
Sirius Black sighed resignedly. 'Albus, please?'
Professor Dumbledore had already taken control of the situation though. With little effort, the Weasleys found that their wands had been removed and were held by the headmaster. 'Ah, Miss Weasley, and Mr Weasleys, let me introduce you to Sirius Black, of the Order of the Phoenix, and god-father to Harry Potter,' he said mildly.
All three of them gaped.
'Sirius was Harry's father's best friend, along with Remus,' Dumbledore nodded to Lupin. Snape though, was scowling at Sirius.
'But those people killed –' George protested.
'Killed by Peter Pettigrew, who managed to escape and caused Sirius to be killed instead,' Dumbledore said firmly. 'Now, will you accept Sirius Black as someone you can trust?'
The three nodded dumbly, eyes wide, brains whirling. What else could they say? Clearly there was some explanation.
The Order of the Phoenix all took seats around a round table where they apparently met customarily. Fawkes, the phoenix, sat on a perch behind Dumbledore's seat, and extra room had been made at the table for the three Weasleys.
Ginny gazed about with wide eyes even as Dumbledore began speaking.
'Greetings,' Dumbledore said. He did not speak with his usual slow, thoughtful and measured pace, but quite urgently. 'This meeting is, as you already know, the result of an emergency situation. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley are missing from Hogwarts, a fact that was brought to our attention by Ginny Weasley and her two brothers, George and Fred Weasley. Ginny, Fred and George are the children of Arthur.'
The circle nodded gravely, recognition in their eyes.
'It may interest you to know that another Hogwarts student is also missing,' Dumbledore continued, blue eyes flickering around. 'Draco Malfoy.'
Those around the table drew breaths in, in surprised shock. 'Lucius Malfoy's son?' the voice of Alastor Moody growled. The paranoid Auror was sitting, hunched at his seat, a half scowl permanently on his face, as his artificial eye roamed the study perpetually.
Dumbledore nodded.
'Why would Draco Malfoy be missing?' Minerva McGonagall asked, a slightly sour expression on her face that made Ginny smile inwardly. Professor McGonagall clearly harboured suspicions about Draco Malfoy, Slytherin git. 'He will cause nothing but more trouble.'
There were murmurs of agreement around the trouble.
'Now, Minerva,' Dumbledore raised a hand, silencing the worries. 'I believe Draco's disappearance will be rather helpful. Don't be so unfair about him. You say yourself that he has improved himself this year, and he is a Prefect. He has done little to cause complaint this year.'
Professor McGonagall still looked doubtful.
'Get to the point, Albus,' Arabella Figg was leaning back in her chair, and watching everybody with a slightly amused expression. She didn't look too alarmed, but was definitely alert.
Dumbledore gave the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor a slight smile. 'Dobby, one of the House Elves at Hogwarts, told me that at midnight Harry and Draco went to the kitchens to get food supplies for a trip some place. Harry did not look to be following Draco's orders in anyway,' he told the Order of the Phoenix.
'Draco is helping Harry?' Snape asked, slightly incredulous. 'I know the boy is clever and intelligent. Maybe he is leading Harry further into a trap.'
Ginny thought it sounded weird to hear the Potions master referring to Harry by his name. He always called him Potter, or the 'famous Mr Potter.' Never with such concern either.
'I do not believe so,' Dumbledore said, frowning, but then turned enigmatic eyes on the Order. 'However, young Mr Malfoy's involvement in these affairs is helpful, and gives us some conclusive evidence.'
Jem Codex, who sat to Ginny's left, suddenly grinned, and gave a low whistle. 'Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley must be at Malfoy Manor!' the youthful looking Metamorphmagus deduced neatly. 'And Harry and Draco Malfoy must be going there.'
'Then Malfoy Manor must be the base of Voldemort's activities,' Remus Lupin nodded quietly. 'We've found this mysterious hiding place then, Severus.'
Ginny glanced at Jem, looking for explanations.
'Severus is working undercover, and all his Death-Eater meetings have been at a location he could not pinpoint, since Death-Eaters Apparate instantly, and Voldemort does seem a little suspicious of him. Now we know where Voldemort's hideout is,' Jem explained to Ginny, Fred and George, seeing their curiosity. 'That's very important.'
Sirius made a noise of impatience. 'What are we waiting for then?' the black-haired man demanded. 'Let's go trash the place and get Harry and his friends out of there.'
His concern sounded very convincing, and Ginny, looking at Sirius' slightly gaunt pale face found herself trusting this man who she had been brought up to believe as a cruel, murderous wizard.
'Or better yet, can't we go and kill Voldemort while we're at it?' a witch of the Order challenged. Dumbledore had introduced her earlier as Artemis Pierce, and she was a tall, somewhat intimidating woman in her thirties, with short, black cropped hair, and flashing eyes that were a peculiarly golden shade. Her face was strangely angular, with a long, sharply pointed nose, and clearly defined cheekbones. Dressed in plain black, with black pants and shirt covered with a black cloak, the most startling thing about her was the longbow and quiver of arrows slung across her back made of ebony black, satiny-smooth wood.
'Always look before you leap, Sirius, Arti,' Dumbledore said, chuckling a little. 'We need to confirm firstly that Malfoy Manor is Voldemort's hideout,' he explained mildly. 'Solomon?'
He turned to an old man with thick glasses, dressed in old dark blue robes, who sat in a polished wooden wheelchair that he had moved with a tap of his wand. Solomon Wyse had a friendly face, and balding head, and had been introduced to the Weasleys as the Head Librarian at the Flamel Library of USAM (University of Sorcery and Advanced Magick.)
Solomon sat, lips pursed slightly in thought, as he searched his mind. 'The two places do correspond,' he said thoughtfully. 'Severus, you described the room you were in as being surprisingly elegant. Varnished cedar furniture, thick, dark green velvet curtains, rich carpets, marble mantelpieces on the fireplace – it all fits in with the written records of the furnishings of Malfoy Manor,' Solomon said, his tenor voice crackling with age.
Ginny looked at the old man, impressed. It was like as though Solomon had a library in his head.
'S'at enuff confirmation for you, Dumbledore?' Mundungus Fletcher asked. He was a short man, with long, straggly ginger hair and bandy legs. Bloodshot, baggy eyes looked curiously at the Headmaster, as he sat, slouched in his seat, emitting a definitely stale odour, quite different to the other, more clean-cut members of the Order.
Dumbledore sighed. 'I think it is likely. We don't really have the solid evidence, but that is all we have to go on.'
'So,' the soft, cultured voice of the man sitting on Dumbledore's right hand side spoke up. 'We have the situation. Voldemort and his allies have kidnapped Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, friends of Harry Potter. Presumably, they have been taken to the home of Lucius Malfoy – Malfoy Manor. Voldemort now sits, waiting for Harry Potter, having set the bait. Harry Potter has left Hogwarts, in the company of Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius, and is now probably at Malfoy Manor, about to be taken captive by Voldemort.'
'You summed it up quite nicely, Nicolas,' Arabella said admiringly.
'Thank you, Arabella,' Nicolas Flamel said, smiling slightly. He sat, back completely straight, and his amber-brown eyes flitted over the faces of the others at the table. He looked well-preserved, like a man in his mid-forties. Who would have guessed he was six hundred plus years?
'We have to let Arthur Weasley know his kid's involved. We need those official people in the Ministry to see Lucius Malfoy's deceit and treachery to the wizarding community, so that we can finally lock him up when we get him,' Alastor Moody growled.
The others nodded in agreement. Get the Ministry involved too.
'The real question though, is what Draco Malfoy is doing,' Solomon said, frowning. There were nods of assent around the table. 'If he were helping Harry, it would set our minds at ease considerably. But if he has malicious intents, then Harry will be in big trouble.'
Ginny shuddered.
'Whatever this Draco kid's plans, we have to do something about this,' Jem said, looking at the others. 'We can't just leave them like that.'
Artemis nodded. 'They have had remarkable luck in the past, but Voldemort is cruel and more powerful than they.'
'I don't trust Draco Malfoy,' Professor McGonagall said flatly. Alastor Moody, Filius Flitwick, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black nodded in agreement. They had met Draco Malfoy before.
'Do not be so hasty in your judgement,' Dumbledore said neutrally, half reprimanding those who had agreed with Professor McGonagall. There was a slight tension in the room, broken by Arabella Figg.
'Well, we'd better get started,' Arabella said briskly. 'It doesn't help if we just sit here talking.'
Dumbledore nodded gravely. 'Let us think up a plan of action,' he suggested.
In half an hour, the Order of Phoenix had finished hammering out their plans, and Fawkes crooned softly from behind Dumbledore, as they began moving out of their seats to get ready.
Fred and George made a beeline for Sirius, and Ginny, groaning, followed them, worried about what idiocies may blurt out from their mouths.
'You're Sirius Black, right?' George said, voice demanding.
Sirius shrugged. 'I've been told that many times, so I believe so, yes.' He tried to look casual, but was also uncomfortable, faced with their suspicious, youthful faces.
But the twins' faces broke into identical grins. 'Congratulations, sir,' Fred said enthusiastically.
'Your detention record still stands unsurpassed at one hundred and three,' George said animatedly.
'I don't suppose you'd like to give us a few tips?' Fred suggested slyly.
Sirius stared at them, momentarily bewildered, then threw his head back and laughed, his face suddenly looking much younger, and quite handsome. The laughter was pleasant, and the Weasleys joined in shortly, while Snape scowled at them from his position, talking with Mundungus Fletcher. 'I haven't thought about my detentions in a long time,' he admitted.
Remus, who had been standing near them, talking seriously to Artemis, rolled his eyes. 'Don't give them any ideas, Padfoot,' he warned. 'They're trouble enough.'
'Padfoot?' George asked, his eyes wide. 'Are you the Padfoot?'
'One of the makers of the, the – you know what that has told us about all the secret passages in the school?' Fred added.
Sirius grinned, eyes knowing. 'The Marauder's Map?' He nodded. 'Guilty.'
'But it's genius!' Fred said, marvelling.
Sirius shrugged. 'He helped,' he pointed at Remus, who sighed.
'My credulity ruined,' Remus said wryly. 'Thanks a lot, Sirius.'
'Professor Lupin?' George sounded incredulous.
'Moony,' Sirius explained.
'Wow,' Fred said, grinning broadly. 'I believe, George, we've fallen in with important folk!'
Sirius and Remus chuckled then, as the Order headed towards the doors of the study. Dumbledore stopped them just before they left.
'Is it understood then, what you are to do?' Dumbledore asked them, one hand stroking Fawkes' brilliant feathers.
The Order nodded.
'Then let us begin.'
***
Hermione frowned, beads of perspiration standing up on her forehead. Their attempt to escape wasn't working so far.
Ron and herself had spent a fair while trying their utmost best to produce tears, collecting them in the palm of their hands and quickly trying to spread them all over the iron bar, and letting them absorb. It was slow work gathering tears: they yawned, tried to think of sad and gloomy stories, and kicked themselves to cause pain, just so that the tears would come. However, the tears that did come were minimal, and many of them were lost as they trickled across their faces, spreading out, and refusing to be collected.
Now, Hermione was holding her copper coin onto the weakest point of the iron bar, and tried to bring some heat to the point of contact. She could not simply create flames – that was too difficult, and probably impossible, in the spelled cell. However, she was trying with all her effort to reach out and nudge the blue-green flame of the torch in the dank corridor outside, closer. It was difficult, and so far, the best she had managed had been to make the torch flare up, but not fly through the air towards the rusting iron as she had hoped.
Ron wasn't very helpful, slumped against the cell wall, having given up long ago.
'It's not working,' Ron said again, his eyes half-shut and drooping closed, as he dozed a little.
'I'm trying,' Hermione said, lips thin. It was rather annoying, having Ron so convinced they wouldn't get out, but they had been trying for about six hours, and Hermione also felt almost ready to give up. Her far-fetched idea wasn't really functioning.
'I need help,' Hermione muttered. Damn the stupid spells in this prison that made even spontaneous magic virtually impossible.
She leant back against the wall, tired from standing up and pushing herself to get the flame to move. Her hand still holding the copper coin to the rusting iron bar though, her finger locked into position. Hermione sighed, using her other hand to wipe away the sweat, and then, for some peculiar reason, felt herself fingering the chain at her neck.
Draco's Christmas gift.
It hadn't been removed from her – all their captors had done had been to prudently take away their wands – and Hermione pulled out the ring at the end, inspecting it. The ring, and the twisting strands of peculiar metal around it had not deformed in anyway, and although her hands were grimy, no dirt was left on the luminous, flawless beauty of the necklace and ring. In short, it was as perfect as it had been on that wintry day Draco had given it to her. She puzzled again at the gift. It was unique, to say the least, and although Draco had claimed that it had not been charmed or cursed in anyway, she still felt that there was something different about it in some way.
Hermione sighed again. The ring's very presence gave her mixed feelings. Draco had seemed to have changed when he had given the necklace with the ring on it to her. The gift had been one symbol of that change, or so she had thought. But now? It seemed otherwise, she thought bitterly, merely a trap to capture Harry. Lying bastard, she thought, and kicked the door again.
'Stop that, Hermione,' Ron said automatically, opening one eye briefly, before closing it again.
Hermione obeyed, simply because she hadn't the strength to argue. Don't revert, she ordered herself firmly, as she felt again the inclination to bash the door.
She let out another long sigh, and held the ring in her hand tightly. It still felt different, she knew, although she had absolutely no idea why. What are you doing, Draco? she wondered in her mind. What's your agenda?
Then, without knowing exactly what she did, she moved back towards the stubborn, rusting iron bar, her hand still holding the ring at the end of the chain tightly. She could feel some sort of … energy, that was the best word to describe it, from the ring. Maybe it was meant badly, but maybe she could utilise that energy, she mused, since it came from outside the spelled prison cell. The hand holding the copper coin to the bar increased its grip, and breathing slowly, she pulled at the energy in the ring, harder and harder, and she felt both hands tingling. She could feel the iron bar, its chemical bonds weakening, reforming, changing into rust, and she held the bar tighter and tighter.
It started to crumble, just slightly, and Hermione focused on channelling that energy, awareness of her surrounds and time fading as everything fixed on the iron bar, when suddenly Hermione felt her mind touch another consciousness, another awareness, and she gasped. She let go of the ring and the bar, falling back to the floor as the copper coin jangled loudly on the cold stone.
'Hermione?' Ron exclaimed, worried. Hermione quickly stuffed the ring back into her top, keeping it hidden. There was no need for further explanations.
'I'm fine,' she said quickly, 'just a little tired from the effort.'
Ron nodded, and glanced over at the bar, his eyes widening as he saw its weakened state. 'You did it!' he said jubilantly, and moved over to the bar. Hermione sat up, watching him, as he used his fist, and shook it. The completely rusted bar collapsed.
'Brilliant!' Ron said, awed and thrilled. He reached over, and unbolted the door. 'Bloody brilliant, Hermione!'
'Thank you,' Hermione said, pleased. Inside, though, her mind wondered over and over what on earth she had done. Who was that? However, the door swung open, creaking only slightly, and the two teenagers stepped out into the corridor – to freedom.
***
They had taken one more short break during the afternoon, and Draco had curtly informed Harry that they should reach their destination by evening, a fact that had Harry both overjoyed that their long flight was over, and filled with trepidation with the dangers that lay ahead.
Because of such feelings, Harry did not even feel uncomfortable with the flight, his concern for his two friends overcoming his sore rear end. Besides, the sun had gone down. However, as they flew on, he became increasingly aware of a twinge in his scar, and he touched it tentatively, just a bit.
Flying near Draco though, Harry suddenly heard the pale boy breathe in sharply, and he glanced over, eyes widening. Draco was still flying, yes, but with only one hand on the broom. His face was paler than ever before, and the other hand was clutching at the robes before his heart. His eyes were shut – not a good idea when flying, but by some freak of nature, he still flew straight.
'What is it?' Harry asked, uneasily.
Draco ignored him, or did not hear him, and he sat rigidly on his broomstick, his hand whitening with the force with which he gripped at his robes on his chest. Harry moved closer, ready to shake Draco, when, just as suddenly, Draco gasped, as his eyes opened again, pupils so dilated they almost covered the grey irises. The colour rushed back into his face. He dropped his hand back to his broomstick, and steadied himself even as his body collapsed back into a relaxed, flying position.
'What happened, Malfoy?' Harry asked. Something about the whole business made him feel strangely uncomfortable.
Draco stayed silent for a moment, but then spoke. 'Nothing, Potter,' Draco said, voice dry as ever, obviously hiding something.
'Something happened,' Harry said stubbornly. 'What did you do?'
Draco turned grey eyes that glinted in the silvery light of the rising moon. 'You don't need to know, Potter.'
Harry scowled. He hated it when Draco took on the know-it-all attitude.
Scratching his scar, he turned back around to go forwards again, and gasped, in awed shock. Below them, shining faintly in the silvery moonlight cast by the rising half-moon, was a large mansion of some sort. It looked old, and was built with graceful proportions of a pale stone, although in the darkness, it could seem somewhat menacing in its largeness.
The magnificent house stood proudly amidst extensive gardens, carefully manicured and dotted by occasional statues and fountains. This was then surrounded by what looked like a fairly large natural forest.
The place was stupendously impressive.
Harry's scar stung again.
'Welcome to the Manor,' Draco said, voice deliberately casual. 'Malfoy Manor.'
Author's notes: More new characters! They're a bit more important than Jane, Chloe, Olive etc. I hope you don't mind Jem Codex, Artemis Pearce and Solomon Wyse. I rather like them myself. What do you think of the names? Arti and Sol are a bit obvious, but Jem's name was chosen just because I liked the sound of it. Don't bother looking up Codex in a Latin dictionary. Its meaning ("book", or alternatively, "blockhead" - look, now you can insult people in Latin, although I believe it's actually pronounced "caudex") has nothing to do with Jem's character. I suppose one of his ancestors could be said to have been a bookish type.
Actually, I was wondering about that. Have you ever noticed how suitable the names of some characters are to their characters? Too suitable! I mean, one case especially is Remus Lupin. Why would his surname be Latin for wolf? It's not like his parents were werewolves too, and did they "foresee" Remus' future and therefore choose his first name? And Sirius Black! Did his parents say, I know my child's going to be a Animagus in the future who'll turn into a black dog, so I'll name him after the dog star.
Enough rambling from me about my opinions on the Harry-Potter world! Let's hear your opinion! (hint hint, look at review button down the bottom.)
On reviews … I'm absolutely flabbergasted. 7 reviews since I last checked! That's simply amazing, and I'm very flattered!
Cinnamon - Hermione is definitely NOT flawless! I can't stand flawless Hermiones, or flawless female characters full stop. They're so stereotypical and completely unnatural. How can anybody be perfect? Nobody is perfect. Even flawless male characters can be annoying. My deepest apologies, but Dobby's not going to figure any more in this fic (except probably at the end). And here's more Ginny and the Weasley twins, but that's it for now …
Morgan - thanks, I'm glad you're still reading! The action did take a while to get moving, didn't it.
Lady Prongs - you guessed it! (about the Prophecy). It is terribly clichéd though, isn't it, but I can't help it. I love prophecies. Draco does sunburn rather easily (people with his type of skin tend to) but he managed to avoid it up in the air. Don't know how, but he doesn't arrive at the Manor with a bright red face.
kybg - thanks! Double thanks! Your reviews are very encouragingly enthusiastic!!!
Sadilou - thank you! I'm pleased that you like it!
Before I finish off my too-long author notes, I have to say that there is an absolutely brilliant site that's just been put up, and is an absolute saviour for any fanfic writer - the Harry Potter Lexicon (www.hp-lexicon.org) from the Floo Network. It has everything! I love it!!!!
