Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/N Alright, people. I know my last story wasnÕt that good, but I wrote it pretty quickly. IÕm trying to get a lot of them up. I guess IÕm not good with that approach, where theyÕre already in love. I prefer doing it the other way anyway. So, IÕm going to take a stab at DracoÕs POV this time, as I am a big fan of his and have only really been doing Ms. Granger. IÕm doing ÒIrisÓ by Goo Goo Dolls. And Draco sings a song in the middle briefly, and that is Ò1# CrushÓ by Garbage.

~Zsa Zsa

P.S. IÕm not going to call this chapter ÒIrisÓ though. IÕm assuming the Goo Goo Dolls wrote it for someone named Iris, so I have chosen to rename it.

~All I Want~

Who I am. I despise that question. I donÕt like who I am. I havenÕt ever liked what I have done, or said, or been. IÕm everything my father wants me to be, and, though he wonÕt admit it, IÕm more then what he ever could have hoped for. But. . .

I donÕt want to be his everything. . .

I want to be hers.

Her honey brown curls cover her eyes and her work when sheÕs writing. I watch her from behind a bookshelf in the library. She bites the tip of her quill when sheÕs thinking what to write and when she is merely being pensive, she bites her bottom lip.

Her chocolate brown eyes look alert when she is thinking. They scan the pages of the thick, hefty textbooks she pours over. The warm and kind orbs of amber gaze dreamily when she looks over the lake.

Her body has developed over the years. I used to think her quite chunky, but now the curves suit her and she has grown into quite the young woman. She is quite tall, not as tall as me, but taller then a lot of the girls around.

SheÕs also intelligent, a quality I have overlooked for many years, seeking affection in those who could merely satisfy my physical needs. I never needed them for intellectual converse. But her. . . she would be quite a challenge. Her quick and acerbic wit rivals mine, and she would certainly provide stimulating verbal spars.

Her beauty is both inner and outer, something that is quite rare. Her calmness and rationality make her a good candidate to go to for advice. I also like her because sheÕs not easily broken, like me. We can both receive unimaginable amounts of pain and angst, and yet, our expressions and mannerisms donÕt falter tremendously.

Her parents were both killed during sixth year. I heard about it the day it happened, from my father, who had committed the heinous crime. She didnÕt even cry, or at least she didnÕt cry in public. She wouldnÕt speak to anyone for several days, but she stayed strong. I respect and admire that about her. I just never got the chance to say I was sorry, and apologize for what my father had done. She probably would have spit in my face anyway.

I donÕt know how I could ever tell her about my infatuation with her. Studying her has become a favorite hobby of mine. I enjoy watching her every move, taking in her habits, her likes, and her dislikes. It hurts me to know that I am one of her great dislikes. That I know well, and I regret it every step of the way.

I am an arrogant, selfish prick who canÕt get enough of himself and who is prejudice against my one true loveÕs blood. I have come to terms with what I was. I am hoping to change myself and the way people see me. I want to be nice for once.

But the thing I want more then anything is to touch her, just once. To feel her soft skin next to mine. To have her in my arms. To stroke her mane of curls. To hold her delicate hand. To be her everything, as she is mine.

I donÕt think sheÕs ever notice me watch her. At least sheÕs never made any sign that she notices. I donÕt know if I want her to yet. IÕm afraid (yes, I, Draco Malfoy, afraid) that she might not accept it, that her friends might try and hurt me for something that isnÕt my fault.

You canÕt help whom you love.

I canÕt help that she plagues my thoughts, and haunts my dreams. I canÕt help that she is the subject of every topic that goes through my head. I canÕt help that I think about her all the time. I just do, and IÕve learnt to accept it.

Why canÕt anyone else?

She must know someone is admiring her from afar. How could she not? SheÕs so beautiful, and although she isnÕt the type to openly say sheÕs gorgeous, she probably knows it inside. No wonder WeasleyÕs liked her for so long. SheÕs been right under his nose all this time. And to think, she could have been under mine. . .

~And I'd give up forever to touch you

Cause I know that you feel me somehow~

I walk down the hall, looking to my left and right, making sure no one is around. When I realize the coast is clear, I sing under my breath, ÒI would die for you, I would die for you, I've been dying just to feel you by my side, to know that you're mine.Ó It may be a muggle song, but I quite like it.

I continue, ÒI will cry for you, I will cry for you, I will wash away your pain with all my tears, and drown your fear.Ó I wish I could. I would gladly do so.

Why does it have to be so wrong?

I get a little upset by the fact I can never have her, so I go on, ÒI will pray for you, I will pray for you, I will sell my soul for something pure and true, someone like you.Ó I never pray. Well, I never used to pray. Now I do, every night, only for her, never for me.

I pray because sheÕs so heavenly. You know that cheesy pick up line, ÒDid it hurt?Ó and the girl goes, ÒWhen?Ó and then you look all smug and puff out your chest and lean closer to her, ÒWhen you fell from heaven.Ó ItÕs embarrassing quite frankly, but if I said it to her, it would be all too true.

I sing more of the song, ÒI will burn for you, feel pain for you, I will twist the knife and bleed my aching heart, and tear it apart.Ó I flinch whenever I sing that line, because I know itÕs true, even if I wouldnÕt like to admit it.

I continue, ÒI will lie for you, beg and steal for you, I will crawl on hands and knees until you see, you're just like me.Ó I donÕt know about that. We arenÕt similar, but IÕm happy about that. I donÕt want her to be like me.

~You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be~

I watch her cross the slopping lawn to the giantÕs hut. She has something in her hands, an exited look on her kind face. I watch the expression till it fades into the distance, merely a memory ensconced in my mind.

IÕll do it. IÕll talk to her today, when she leaves his hut. I canÕt believe I will, but I think I have to do it for me. I see her disappear when he opens the door, a big grin on his face. I wonder why sheÕs going in there on her own?

I walk down the path she did, but turn when I get to the edge of the forest. I hide behind a tree large enough to conceal me entirely, and wait. I wait for what seems like hours, anticipating her reactions to my newfound amiability.

I grin to myself in a very rakish way that only I could pull off. I wait some more, growing steadily impatient. What the hell is she doing in there? I turn around to face the lake, a bit put off by her taking so long. My spontaneity is running out, and IÕm beginning to think this is a bad idea.

IÕm about to walk up to the castle, when I hear voices. ItÕs her, saying good-bye to Hagrid. I look at her from my hiding place. She looks glowing and tired. I wonder what they were up to?

ÒBye, Hagrid!Ó I hear her say. She turns to go, skipping. I wait until HagridÕs door is closed, and then I run after her.

ÒHermione?Ó I ask. She turns around, gaping at me when she realizes who it is. She doesnÕt say anything, but I know what sheÕs thinking. Why am I doing this? Why did I call her by her first name? ÒLookÓ, I say, ÒCan we talk?Ó

She shakes her pretty, little head in disbelief, her mouth slightly open, ÒWhat do you want, Malfoy?Ó It came out weaker then I know she would have liked. I smile, and say nothing. I take her by the arm, and to my surprise, she makes no protest. I take her to the bench by the lake, that little stone bench, and sit her down.

She adopts a very professional manner and asks, ÒI inquire as to why you wish to talk with me.Ó I smirk at her, much my usual smirk and she begins to tense. Why did I do that? SheÕll think IÕm up to something sinister.

ÒLook, IÕm not up to anything if thatÕs what you thinkÓ, she razes her eyebrows, but says nothing and motions for me to continue, ÒI just wanted to talk to you. . . to see you.Ó

She looks startled, ÒWhy, may I ask?Ó She presses her skirt down uncomfortably and looks down, not knowing what to expect of my answer.

ÒI want to. . .get to know you better. Can I be your friend?Ó And more, much, much more? She opens her large eyes in amazement, and utter incredulity.

ÒYou, Draco Malfoy, enemy extraordinaire of all things Muggle, wants to be my friend? Have you forgotten IÕm a Mudblood?Ó I flinch at her words, and she notices, her expression softening at my obvious discomfort.

ÒIÕm sorry, but I donÕt believe I understand why it is you want to be my friend.Ó Hermione said, standing up to face me. I look down my nose at her, her chocolate brown eyes never wavering from their determined gaze.

ÒYou want to know the truth?Ó She nodded, biting her lip. She looked tired and worn out, ÒYou look exhausted. Please, sit down.Ó I make a gesture towards the bench. She shakes her head, standing her ground. I love the determination she posses, ÒYour fortitude is quite remarkable.Ó She smiles weakly, and I can tell she needs rest.

ÒHermione, maybe you really should sit down. You look so drained.Ó I take her hand, a tingle going up my spine, and I feel her shiver when my cold skin touches her warm, soft skin. I lead her to the bench and sit her down. She shakes her head slightly, slumping into a position of extremely bad posture. But I didnÕt care, she looks beautiful anyway.

ÒWhatÕs wrong?Ó I ask her. She looks up at me wearily, and then her expression turns into something colder then I would have liked. She gets up from her place on the bench, wobbling slightly.

She looks me strait in the eye, obviously searching for some sign to show she shouldnÕt trust me, ÒWhat are you on about?Ó She finally asks, ÒWhy do you care about me?Ó

I raise an eyebrow, ÒIÕm not the person I used to be.Ó She mutters something, ÒWhat was that? Hermione, why wonÕt you believe that IÕve changed?Ó She mutters again, ÒWhat?Ó I ask.

ÒYou havenÕt ever given me any reason to trust you before. Why should I do so now?Ó She asks, crossing her arms over her chest, her hip cocking slightly.

ÒYouÕre right, I havenÕt.Ó I step closer, anticipating what IÕve been wanting for so long. I feel her ragged breaths on my face, and I see her close her eyes just before I go in for the kill. Our lips touch and fireworks explode. Well, not exactly, but it sure felt like it. I smile on her mouth when I feel her hands snaking up my back and around my neck. I feel her shiver when my hands begin to roam her back.

She pulls away, ÒMaybe we should continue this in my room. IÕm Head Girl, so I have ultimate privacy.Ó She smiles, and then adds, ÒBesides, with me being so weak, I might need some help getting up there.Ó She raises her eyebrow pointedly, and I smirk.

ÒWhat is wrong with you? I hate to think what went on in that cabin.Ó I raise my eyebrows suggestively, and she hits my shoulder.

ÒEw! How could you think that?Ó I shrug, and she flinches, ÒThatÕs disgusting. No, actually, I canÕt really tell you why I was there. ItÕs kind of a secret.Ó I look interested, ÒNo, you canÕt know. Not even Ron and Harry know.Ó

I look down at my shoes and then say, ÒWill I ever get to know?Ó

She looks at me strangely as we enter the castle, ÒItÕs unlikely. ThereÕs a very slim chance youÕll become closer to me then Harry or Ron.Ó Oh how wrong she was. We will soon be very close; I can feel it.

I quickly change my expression and smile sadly, ÒYeah, unlikely.Ó

She looks uncomfortable now, and I mentally kick myself, ÒIÕm sorry. I really donÕt mind.Ó Oh Merlin, how could I have made her feel guilty? ÒReally, it doesnÕt matter. I completely understand.Ó We are now standing outside her portrait. She steps very close, and whispers something inaudible and the portrait swings open, revealing a spacious living quarters for one.

We go in, she tells me to make myself comfortable. She wants to take a shower, and I take that opportunity to explore. I donÕt look through her things, but I look at her photos. I see one of her and the Clueless Two, and I laugh softly.

ÒWhatÕs so funny?Ó There she is, like an angel, standing there in a robe, her hair dripping onto the floor, creating large splats on the carpet.

ÒNothing, you just look so young there.Ó She smiles, and comes over to look.

ÒHuh. YouÕre right, I do. But you looked young at eleven too.Ó She puts her arm around me, and kisses me softly, ÒIÕm sorry, Draco, but I am so tired. I really want to go to bed.Ó

ÒCan I stay?Ó I ask.

ÒWhat? Of course not!Ó She looks flustered, taking her arm away from my neck.

ÒIÕm not going to do anything, I just want to watch you sleep. Can I sit in that chair?Ó

ÒAll night?Ó She asks, biting her lip. I nod. She looks around, and walking to the foot of her bed, she picks up a blanket and throws it to me. I smile.

ÒThanks.Ó

ÒDonÕt mention it.Ó

She gets dressed in the bathroom and comes out in a modest nightgown. I sit in my chair, looking at the bed intently as she gets in and turns off her light, then, as almost an afterthought, she whispers, ÒÕNight, Draco.Ó

ÒGoodnight, Hermione.Ó

~And I don't want to go home right now~

I stayed the whole night, eventually falling asleep at around two oÕclock in the morning. Luckily, itÕs Sunday today, so I didnÕt have school.

I feel an arm shake me, and open my eyes to see her looking at me, her eyes wide, ÒYouÕre still here?Ó She breathed.

ÒI told you I was staying the night.Ó I say, slightly surprised at her shock.

ÒI know, but itÕs two in the afternoon.Ó She whispers, slight panic in her voice, ÒI was hoping youÕd leave early morning so no one would see you!Ó I nod in understanding, give her a quick kiss, and leave. But before I leave, I say to her, ÒCan I come back tonight? Late, of course.Ó

ÒYou want to watch me sleep again?Ó she asked incredulously.

ÒWell, yes, and I was hoping you might stay up a little later so we can talk.Ó I probe at her.

ÒWell. . . okay.Ó She says quietly and awkwardly.

ÒGreat!Ó And with that, I leave, whistling happily.

Waiting for tonight will be very difficult indeed for me. IÕve been suppressing my feelings for so long, itÕs so liberating to let them get out in the open. I think she knows I feel more about her then just friends. Why does she trust me some much? It must be instinct, womenÕs intuition. That must be pointing her in the right direction.

I walk around aimlessly, not knowing what to do with myself. IÕm happy, for once, I am truly happy. I want to taste her again. I shudder at the thought.

All I can see is her in my mind. SheÕs like a shadow looming behind me, watching over my every move. I am on my best behavior today. I donÕt think I could be mean if I tried.

Crabbe and Goyle see me in the hall, and I try steering myself out of their line of vision. Oh dear, they seem to have spotted me. My expression turns slightly sour, as they remind me of my past. I turn, heading to the Library, where they wouldnÕt dare set foot.

I breathe out a sigh of relief, and then lose my breath again. ItÕs her! WhatÕs she doing here? I stamp my foot slightly, impatient almost, and she hears. Turning around to look at me, for the first time in my life, I see her smile when she looks into my eyes.

I begin to walk over and she shakes her head very slightly. She points over to a deserted area of the Library and I nod. I begin to walk over in that direction instead, knowing sheÕll be behind me every step of the way. I smile to myself, giddy over the fact that IÕll finally get the girl.

When I get behind a bookshelf, I peek through the dusty volumes and see her hurrying along, ten books piled up high. I clench my eyelids shut because I know sheÕll drop them and I wonÕt be able to help. Curse this damn family! I donÕt care, Goddamnit!

THUMP! Aah, the dreaded drop. I step out from behind my hiding place to find that she hasnÕt dropped them on the floor, but more on the table, only one thick novel dropping to the floor. She smiles at me, and I donÕt smile back because she made a scene. People are looking in our direction now, I silently convey this message to her and she worriedly looks over her shoulder. Four heads, all Gryffindors, are facing us. They give puzzled look, but then one by one, resume reading.

I smirk and pull her behind the last bookshelf, planting my wanting lips on hers, feeling that familiar tingle. I wish I could stay locked in this moment forever.

~And all I can taste is this moment

And all I can breathe is your life~

She pulls away, and I give her a sad puppy face as if to say ÒWhy did you stop?Ó and she smiles.

ÒYou canÕt get ahead of yourself, Draco.Ó Her small knowing smile turns into a huge grin and I canÕt help but smile back.

ÒTalk to me.Ó I say, putting my hands on her waist and pulling her closer. Her smile disappears and she looks into my eyes, and I nearly lose control- she looks so irresistibly vulnerable.

ÒAbout what?Ó She says in a sexy, breathy voice, which nearly pushes me over the edge. Her eyebrow goes up just slightly, and at the same time, the corner of her lip curves slightly, and I canÕt help but kiss her again. As I kiss her neck, I whisper, ÒTell me about yourself.Ó I suck on her neck, and the sensitive spot just below her ear, and she moans.

ÒUm, well, I was born and raised in London.Ó She says quickly, biting back another moan, ÒMe too.Ó I whisper. ÒMy parents are dentists.Ó I find that incredibly unappealing as a job, but suit yourself.

She pulls away for the second time, and asks the dreaded question, ÒDraco,Ó she looks nervous, ÒWhere is this going?Ó I look uncomfortable, and shrug. ÒAnswer me.Ó She urges.

ÒI donÕt know. I donÕt know if it can go anywhere. Just know that I want it to, I do. . . ItÕs just not that simple.Ó Draco look at her, and am shocked to see her eyes are glazed over. SheÕs about to cry?

ÒDraco. . . Give me a strait answer.Ó Her look is pleading and I take a deep breath, hoping it comes out right.

ÒWell, you see, if we were to go out. . . It would have to be our little secret.Ó She nods, her eyes brightening steadily, ÒBecause, as much as IÕd like to stay locked in your embrace for ever, itÕs not possible. WeÕre from two different worlds.Ó

ÒI know.Ó She nods again, looking at her feet, breathing deeply. Nothing is said for a few minutes, but the silence is broken by a very sweet sentence that makes my heart flutter, ÒI can keep a secret.Ó

I smile and huge and very real smile, pick her up and twirl her around, ÒI promise I wonÕt let you down, Mya.Ó

ÒMya?Ó She quirks an eyebrow, ÒEveryone calls me ÔMione.Ó

ÒWell IÕm not everyone, and besides, I always thought that was pretty hideous.Ó She makes a face and mouths ÔMe too.Õ I smirk, ÒBesides, I like to call you my own special name.Ó She grins, and then we realize she is still in my arms, and I quickly put her down and clear my throat.

ÒHmm?Ó She whispers, nuzzling in next to me.

ÒI wonÕt stay with you tonight. I want to take this slow for you and now it might seem a little weird.Ó I look at her, and she nods sadly.

ÒYouÕre right. I guess it would be a little weird.Ó She loosens her grip, but I hold on tight.

ÒI want to remember this moment forever.Ó I sigh dreamily.

ÒWhy?Ó She asks, snuggling close again.

ÒBecause it is the first time IÕve ever been truly happy.Ó

~Cause sooner or later it's over

I just don't want to miss you tonight~

The next few days weÕre hard for her and I. We canÕt make our relationship public. She always protests, but I know itÕs for the best. I keep telling her they wonÕt understand. They wonÕt accept us. She always nods her head sadly in the same manner, allowing the matter to go unsolved. I always leave it because I know IÕm right; she knows it too.

I wish I wasnÕt. I wish to death I wasnÕt, but Slytherin and Gryffindor rivalry has always existed and will always exist. It canÕt be changed. I always look into her eyes. I know they are the doorway to her heart and her soul. It makes me sad and angry, because her eyes are always lost looking. Nowadays, they never have the same fervent determination they used to twinkle with. It makes me upset that I did that to her.

ÒDraco?Ó She asks one night. I am sitting on her chair watching her. ItÕs pitch black, but my eyes are accustomed to the dark now.

ÒYes, love.Ó I answer in a lazy, sleepy drawl.

ÒDo you love me?Ó She asks, her voice timid. I sigh and think. The silence in the room is deafening, which isnÕt a very good sign. I have been thinking about the matter myself lately. Do I love her?

Yes.

ÒI love you.Ó I say, almost as a realization, surprised, hearing for the first time roll off my tongue. My happy face falls when I realize thatÕs the first time IÕve ever said those words, ÒIÕve never said that to anyone before.Ó

ÒDo you mean it?Ó I now see she has turned her body to face me, but I cannot read her expression.

ÒYes, I do.Ó I say, meaning it completely. In fact, I realize IÕve never meant anything so much in my entirely life.

ÒI love you too.Ó I smile, and then she says, ÒCan we not tell anyone?Ó

ÒNo, Mya, weÕve been over this. Not yet. . . Maybe not ever.Ó I say sadly, but with conviction.

~And I don't want the world to see me

Cause I don't think that they'd understand~

ÒDraco?Ó She whispers again. Ò I just realized something. I love you almost more then I can bear, and yet, I know nothing about you. How is that possible?Ó

ÒI donÕt know. You are far more experienced in the matters of love then I am.Ó

She snorted, ÒI donÕt know about that.Ó

ÒItÕs true. Well, hereÕs my life story. I was born into a coldhearted family. One that never ate together. One that never said ÔI love youÕ. One that cherished evil above all else, and only needed power and money to make them happy. No love, Hermione. You are my first love.Ó And last, I say to myself. I know itÕs true. How can I not?

ÒMy family brought me up independent. I was always alone, trying to fend for myself. I never had a shoulder to cry on, so I learnt not to cry. Never had someone to help ease my pain, so I learnt to suppress it.Ó She is now looking at me with wide eyes. I can see them glinting from the light of the moon. She then throws her covers off. She walks slowly towards me.

ÒSo, youÕre saying everything in your life was meant to be disheveled, broken, empty?Ó She is now right next to my chair, and I have to stand to face her, the beautiful angel in front of me.

ÒBasically. . . yes. Nothing made sense before now.Ó I say, looking down at my feet bathed in darkness. I feel her warm hand touch my cold face. I canÕt see her every well, but I know sheÕs smiling. I can feel her smiling. Her happiness is radiating onto me, and I canÕt help but smile slightly.

ÒBefore nowÓ, I begin, ÒWhen I started to like you. . . I didnÕt know what was going on. I just expected it was a little crush, some sexual frustration. Then, I began to realize it was more.Ó I hear her take in a sharp breath, ÒI began to fall in love with you, without knowing why. ItÕs the first time IÕve ever really been scared.Ó

ÒWhy were you scared?Ó She asks, her hand not leaving my cheek. SheÕs now caressing it gently, lingering for a few moments on my jaw, and then resuming her roaming of my face.

ÒAt first, I thought it was because I was feeling something I didnÕt want to feel, but then I realized, I was scared that you might never know that I liked you, that I thought about you all the time. I was scared you might never know the real me.Ó

She kisses me softly on the cheek and whispers into my ear, ÒI donÕt know you well enough. LetÕs get closer.Ó At that, my face turns pale and I feel her hand grasp mine and pull me towards the bed. She will soon know me to the core, and that thought terrified me.

~When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am~

ÒThis is all so surreal.Ó I brush a strand of her hair behind her ear. She smiles and sighs dreamily. Then, she nods sleepily, snuggling closer to my naked body, skin to skin.

ÒI feel like I could cry.Ó I say spontaneously.

ÒBut you wonÕt.Ó She whispers, almost sadness in her tone.

ÒWhy wonÕt I?Ó

ÒBecause you taught yourself not to cry. Now you canÕt cry.Ó

ÒWho says IÕm not nearly weeping? I could be fighting them harder then IÕve ever fought before.Ó She giggles, and gives me a look as if t say, ÔI highly doubt that.Õ

ÒWell, I feel like crying, but I know I wonÕt. I feel like crying. ThatÕs the truth. I swear.Ó

~And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming

Or the moment of truth in your lies~

For the next few days, we would have secret meetings, and give each other secret notes. I gave her a rose, and she scolded me severely. I guess it was slightly too pretentious.

I walk past her in class, seeing a note. I pick it up and make my way smoothly over to the Slytherin side of the Potions room.

~Draco,

This all feels so strange. I feel like IÕm floating, or like our relationship isnÕt a reality, and that IÕll wake up from this dream. . . But I know we are very much alive and kicking, and that none of this is a fictitious story in my wildly imaginative reverie.

I love you with all my heart,

~xoxo

We always signed our notes like that, so if they were to fall into the wrong hands, no one would know. I smile at the note, and I can feel her eyes boring into me. I smirk at her poetic tale of our relationship, but know that all is true, and that we both feel the same way.

~When everything feels like the movies

Yeah, you'd bleed just to know you're alive~

ÒDraco?Ó She asks after a long, hard day. We are both lying on her bed, my arms rapped about her, her hair tickling my nose slightly.

ÒYep.Ó

ÒI know who you are. But do you know who I am?Ó

ÒOf course. There is one thing that I am curious about though.Ó I flip her around to face me, our noses a centimeter apart.

ÒAnd that would be. . . ?Ó

ÒWhat were you doing in HagridÕs hut?Ó She smiles this knowing little smirk.

ÒIÕm going to be just like Padfoot, God Rest His Soul.Ó

~I just want you to know who I am~

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A/N You guys all got that last line, right? If you didnÕt, IÕll post it next chapter. Draco of course will have no clue what sheÕs talking about. Oh, and by the way, please add me to your favorite lists! I would love it if you would please!!!

Skyleia: I know I can do better! I thought that last chapter was bad, but I posted it anyway. I felt I needed to view that aspect of the story. I love fluffyness too! And no offense taken! I donÕt have Mandy MooreÕs CD either, I just found the lyrics and thought they fit well with the Dray/ Mya shipper. Thanks for being such a dedicated reviewer! Add me to your fave list!

Lexy-Gurl: How did you get lost? Please tell me if there is anything I can improve so that you donÕt get lost. Thanks for your sweet review!

Lady Obsidian: Thanks for your sweet words. They keep me writing!

Draco Amant: IÕm corny and romantic, too. LOL. ItÕs cool. Thanks for your review!

Kari-demon: Ha! Yeah. . . disturbing. I agree. Thanks!

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Thanks so much. READ! REVIEW! ADD ME TO YOUR FAVE LIST!

~Zsa Zsa