Title: When Time Stands Still.
Author: SantiMonreal
Pairings: Harry, Hermione and Ron.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, published in her books, borrowed by me, to release some of my mind's stress; and more importantly, I'm not making any money off this.
Summary: Harry tries to cope with the phantoms of his past. Ron deals with a future that he couldn't accept. Hermione draws bliss out of the present melancholic world.
A/N: There's a touch smut in this chapter, please let me know what you think…
Chapter 6: Nocturnal Escapes
Hermione sat in her bedroom the next day, reading the book of ancient magic. Ruffling through the pages, she noticed that the last pages were thicker than the ones that preceded them.
She turned to her night table. A knife, several herbs and flowers lay on it; she had performed a dream ritual on herself the night before. She took the knife and inserted it between particularly thick pages. The pages broke into two separate pages as she slid the knife between them.
"El Texto Prohibido," she said reading the heading. Several translations lay across the page. Although the text was originally written in Spanish, French, English and even Latin translations lined the page. "The Forbidden Text," she said whispering to herself while she read the translation the translation.
Her eyes traveled down the page, as it would a landscape; watching out for landmarks, for important, underscored, words. "Love magic, was first written and practiced by the Sumerian scholars. However, the practice was lost to them when the High Priest deemed it as sacrilegious. The text was then translated to Sanskrit and shipped to India where the Guru of Kama Sutra finally perfected it." Hermione read to herself slowly. Her breath was tightening and her brow was sweating.
"Original copies of the forbidden text were burned during the medieval times when the church considered such acts as immoral. The few remaining copies were rewritten in seven other tongues: Latin, French, Spanish, English, Sanskrit, Chinese, and the Original Sumerian. These copies were shipped all over the world to avoid discovery." Hermione had reached the bottom of the first page. She closed her eyes. The thrill of finding such text excited her.
"This note was written on the very page of each:
An ancient magic that knows no counter, irreversible ritual of love and bonding, olden sacraments that cannot be undone; lie written in this text. Such is the power of this text, as old as magic itself."
Hermione gasped, She never imagined such a book in her hands. "The root cause of magic is desire, it lies in the heart of every Witch, Wizard, Sorcerer and Sorceress. Without desire, there would be no power. No strength to perform the simplest of spells."
"A warning to he who holds this book: The moment a spell is performed, it cannot be undone. The most basic material needed in the ritual is the strength of your desire. If your desire is false, the spell is not complete and you will find yourself in a worse situation than that of which you can ever envision." The page ended.
Hermione was caught in awe. She rushed the knife through the other pages tearing each apart exposing the hidden magic that lay written, hidden away from the world.
Hermione lit the candle on her bedside table and burned a twig of rosemary and threw it in the bowl. Rosemary brought rest if used alone, but there were petals of a red rose in there, as well as the vine of and ivy and grape. Unknowingly, she sent a spell of lust and lustful dreams to the people who filled her mind, Ron and Harry.
* * *
Harry lay on his bed that night, thinking of what Hermione and Ron might be doing the same night. Hermione's letter lay on his bed, but the scent had faded. Only the smell of dry ink on parchment remained.
He looked out his window; it was still open wide to allow him to gaze out into the night sky. The stars were brighter tonight, but he didn't care, the moon was not out, it was the moon he looked at, and not the stars. His walls were emblazoned with orange hues from the street lamps outside. He could hear Uncle Vernon snoring loudly from the room down the hall.
Visions and dreams from the night in the tower filled his head. Along with his own interpretations, lust filled interpretations. His head was light. His arms were nimble. He saw glimpses of Hermione in his mind. She lay next to him on the bed, Her hair tickling his face. His head was swimming. His body was hot; He was sweating under the giant shirt that he was wearing. Panting, he took it off.
His heart was beating against his chest. He could hear it in his ears; his trousers were intolerably tight around the waist. His legs, too, were hot. He got up to remove them but at the moment he tore them off his legs, he saw Hermione push him onto the bed. She lay on his side.
Harry couldn't believe himself; he felt Hermione's hair in his bare shoulders, on his cheeks, on his chest.
And the scent, yes, the scent of strawberries and roses filled the air that he breathed. Where did that come from?
Goosebumps lined his arms and neck, but his head was hot, he was hot, his heart would not stop racing.
"I need them," Harry called to the air. His eyes rolled back, into his head, breathing increased. "I'm dreaming," he said to himself.
The curtain from around his open window swayed in the evening breeze. The wind entered his bedroom, blowing against his skin. It did not cool him, however, it made his body warmer, all the more. Again it entered, but now it called his name.
"Harry…" The wind called, in a voice barely audible to him. Harry was still in bed. His naked legs felt the wind caress him.
"Harry…" The wind blew again, this time the voice was clearer. It was Hermione's voice. Harry opened his eyes weakly, he saw Hermione at his side.
"Hermione, what are…"
"Shh..." the figure whispered.
"What, how…" he tried to ask her, but she only smiled. The figure's arms reached forth and took Harry in an embrace.
"No," Harry thought, it was impossible. Hermione could not be in there with him. She couldn't Apparate.
But it was too real, the feeling of her arms around him, her embrace, her hair against his face, the thin material of her clothing between them, against his bare skin…her scent, her scent it was so real, her essence filled his mind, his room.
The sensations from the presence of her body pressing against his, emanated to the periphery of his limbs, to his groin and to his organ.
Embarrassed by his erection, Harry pulled the blanket over it to cover himself. The figure of Hermione smiled smiled,
"Show me," she said, whispering in his ear. Blood rose to Harry's face. His ears were scarlet; half embarrassed by her request. Harry turned back to look at her, but the expression of her face had not changed, it was the same understanding and smiling face that asked him.
She blinked slowly. "Show me," she whispered again, in the same haunting voice that wind used, to call him earlier.
Harry pulled down his boxers and revealed his organ, fully erect, an obscene object to show to someone he loved as much as her; but it was her will that he followed.
The wind blew into his room, against his naked legs and at his organ. Harry gasped. A thousand sensations passed over him. His sweating increased. Hermione still looked at him with those caring tender eyes.
"Show me, Harry," Hermione whispered again in the cold voice.
Harry's hand reached down to grab his organ; with the other he caressed his nipple. Hermione moved only to blink her eyes lazily as she watched him touch himself.
Harry moved his hand slowly up and down his erect maleness. Keeping his eyes on her as she watched him. His other hand moved down to his stomach, and then to his pubis, caressing the hairline.
Hermione moved forward, ever so slowly, and crawled on to the space next to him. Harry felt her hair on his face, her scent surround him. He turned his head aside to look at her. She smiled at him. Harry closed his eyes.
When he opened them he saw Ron in the bed too, doing the same as he, pleasuring himself, while Hermione lay between them. The bed seemed too small for the three of them, but it did not matter, they were together. He reached back for his nipple; his breathing deepened; his climax was near.
He turned to look at Hermione, who remained the same, still smiling, still caring. Ron looked back at him, with an understanding smile.
Harry stroked harder, and faster, and in a few final strokes, it was done, the seed of life came forth, and onto his belly.
The wind entered his bedroom again, Hermione and Ron were still there, but the scent of Hermione's hair was slowly fading. The wind blew harder, and his two friends vanished.
Harry sniffed the air in his room; no there was nothing, not even a trace of her. They were only visions. Harry closed his eyes again and fell sleep.
* * *
That same night, Ron awoke to the smell of the dry grass, his head rested on Hermione's lap, as did Harry's. They lay on a huge blanket in the paddock, under the stars. The night air was warm, and so was the ground.
"I thought we'd do this again some time," Hermione told the both of them. "Look at the same sky that we saw in the astronomy tower," she continued.
"It isn't the same," Harry said. He spoke so softly, as though his voice was failing him.
"Why's that, mate?" Ron asked Harry.
"There's no moon tonight.," Harry replied, softly now, but the emotions weren't absent as they were earlier.
"The moon can wait, right now, it's more than enough that you are here," Ron replied. He looked up to see Hermione smiling at him. Her hair was swaying in the light breeze that flew past them.
Hermione moved her legs; Ron and Harry sat up to allow her more movement. She stood up; Harry stood up as well. Ron followed.
"What are we doing?" he asked them.
"I feel warm," Hermione replied, unbuttoning her blouse. Ron turned to Harry, who had taken off his shirt, and was getting back on the blanket.
"It's hot tonight, isn't it?" He asked Ron. Ron took off his shirt as well.
Hermione got back on the blanket, Her skirt was open, but not off; allowing Ron glimpses of her physique. Ron sat down next to her.
Hermione lay down, and the moment she did, Ron allowed her to rest her head on his belly, and he on Harry, as Harry did the same on Hermione.
A moment of silence occupied the space between them. Subdued later by the song of crickets from the grass behind. Ron played with Hermione's hair, holding it in his palm and twisting it his fingers.
The night was dense and humid; the trees were but shadows against the night. Sweat was forming in Ron's chest, glistening under the starlight. Hermione cocked her head to look at Ron, who looked back at her, reading the expression.
"I think I like how we were on the oak bed better," she told him. Ron agreed, smiling at her. Harry said nothing, but he turned and looked at them. Hermione crawled to Ron's side and Harry on her opposite.
They lay on their sides each holding the other, half naked and half clothed; Like three little children, afraid to lose one another.
"What are you thinking Harry?" Ron asked him.
"Nothing particular, Ron," Harry replied weakly.
"Hermione, how about you?" Ron asked her.
"Shh. I'm not thinking really, I'm trying to remember this moment exactly as it is," she replied. "I wanted this to happen again soon, but we never got the chance," she said. "And now that we finally have, I want to remember it exactly as it is." She smiled at Ron.
She kissed his forehead. Ron closed his eyes; again there was the familiar tingling sensation that ran across his body. She turned to face the sky, lying flat on her back, but not before planting the same kiss on Harry's brow.
Ron lay on his back as well, so did Harry. Hermione's hair was in Ron's face again, and it brought with it the familiar scent of roses and strawberries. It was a familiarity that Ron had hoped to have, a scent that he longed for, at night in his room, when he dreamed. Ron saw Harry move to kiss Hermione's lips; he watched them for a while, then turned his gaze back to the night sky. No he wasn't jealous, in fact he was happy for the both of them.
Ron closed his eyes. He caught Hermione's hair between his lips and later his teeth. He wanted to taste it so, he wanted to taste her so. He wanted to taste her. No, he wanted her. He wanted her, and he wanted him as well, He wanted him with her. No, he wanted the both of them, with him together.
When he opened his eyes, he found her brown irises staring back at him. She smiled, and then closed her eyes and kissed his mouth, he closed his eyes as well, he parted his lips and allowed her tongue passage into his mouth. And it did, but it wanted the favor returned, and he was more than willing to give it back. He did so lightly at first, careful not to hurt her. Lust overtook him; he probed and probed and probed into her mouth.
The kiss broke. Ron opened his eyes; she was staring at him with those familiar tender eyes.
Ron closed his eyes. He stayed still for a moment, then, after a while, reopened them.
He was greeted by the sight of the morning sun his room, the scent of the dried grass had vanished. There was no more Hermione, no more Harry near him. All that was left was the memory of the dream that was last night.
To be continued…
A/N1: Hey you guys! I wrote this a few days back, unfortunately, My beta's computer crashed and just got resurrected. I waited for her to email this to me edited. I just can't post unedited work here…
A/N2: "The root cause of magic is desire" I read something like that in The Necronomicron (a supposedly ancient book of spells), when I was younger. I thought that maybe I'd use it sometime.
A/N3:I'm so sorry for the delay of this Chapter, like I said before, I'd rather not post, than post something unedited. I find it embarrassing.
Acknowledgements:
Steph- Thanks! I hope this is soon enough for you. You reviewed twice, thanks, and by the way, I'm a guy, so I can't really write a good Hermione situation.
Angelic_devil- Thanks, I appreciate it. I really am trying to do it properly, love ya too, as I do all my readers and reviewers.
ArchChancellor- Thank you, I think I intended it to be that way sad and sweet.
Macy Gray- Thanks, thanks, thanks. I'm elated that you like the writing. I have learned to love them as well.
Hpfreak18- You're welcome! Her site has been experiencing a little construction lately, but I think it's done now… Thanks, I am trying to write real emotions, and I'm glad that it's translating well.
Roxanne- Thanks! I'm happy you fell that way, I am trying to write it like that. I loved the storm scenes too.
Sliver- Thanks dude! Claro, ff.net estuve mal ultimamente. Pero ahora ya he updated. I hope this is soon enough for you. Thanks for emailing me!
Sandi- Thanks, I'm a little insecure about how Hermione's character is translating. Well I hope that this chapter isn't too smutty for you, I am still writing pathos stuff am I? I'm not so sure myself…
Odessa- Thanks for reviewing, I hope this is soon enough for you!
Sally- Thanks I hope you like this chapter!
XOX- Thanks! You're reviews are so, well, they make light headed. I'm flattered me to your list.
Sweet pup- Thanks! I hope this soon enough for you, hope you like it!
Author: SantiMonreal
Pairings: Harry, Hermione and Ron.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, published in her books, borrowed by me, to release some of my mind's stress; and more importantly, I'm not making any money off this.
Summary: Harry tries to cope with the phantoms of his past. Ron deals with a future that he couldn't accept. Hermione draws bliss out of the present melancholic world.
A/N: There's a touch smut in this chapter, please let me know what you think…
Chapter 6: Nocturnal Escapes
Hermione sat in her bedroom the next day, reading the book of ancient magic. Ruffling through the pages, she noticed that the last pages were thicker than the ones that preceded them.
She turned to her night table. A knife, several herbs and flowers lay on it; she had performed a dream ritual on herself the night before. She took the knife and inserted it between particularly thick pages. The pages broke into two separate pages as she slid the knife between them.
"El Texto Prohibido," she said reading the heading. Several translations lay across the page. Although the text was originally written in Spanish, French, English and even Latin translations lined the page. "The Forbidden Text," she said whispering to herself while she read the translation the translation.
Her eyes traveled down the page, as it would a landscape; watching out for landmarks, for important, underscored, words. "Love magic, was first written and practiced by the Sumerian scholars. However, the practice was lost to them when the High Priest deemed it as sacrilegious. The text was then translated to Sanskrit and shipped to India where the Guru of Kama Sutra finally perfected it." Hermione read to herself slowly. Her breath was tightening and her brow was sweating.
"Original copies of the forbidden text were burned during the medieval times when the church considered such acts as immoral. The few remaining copies were rewritten in seven other tongues: Latin, French, Spanish, English, Sanskrit, Chinese, and the Original Sumerian. These copies were shipped all over the world to avoid discovery." Hermione had reached the bottom of the first page. She closed her eyes. The thrill of finding such text excited her.
"This note was written on the very page of each:
An ancient magic that knows no counter, irreversible ritual of love and bonding, olden sacraments that cannot be undone; lie written in this text. Such is the power of this text, as old as magic itself."
Hermione gasped, She never imagined such a book in her hands. "The root cause of magic is desire, it lies in the heart of every Witch, Wizard, Sorcerer and Sorceress. Without desire, there would be no power. No strength to perform the simplest of spells."
"A warning to he who holds this book: The moment a spell is performed, it cannot be undone. The most basic material needed in the ritual is the strength of your desire. If your desire is false, the spell is not complete and you will find yourself in a worse situation than that of which you can ever envision." The page ended.
Hermione was caught in awe. She rushed the knife through the other pages tearing each apart exposing the hidden magic that lay written, hidden away from the world.
Hermione lit the candle on her bedside table and burned a twig of rosemary and threw it in the bowl. Rosemary brought rest if used alone, but there were petals of a red rose in there, as well as the vine of and ivy and grape. Unknowingly, she sent a spell of lust and lustful dreams to the people who filled her mind, Ron and Harry.
* * *
Harry lay on his bed that night, thinking of what Hermione and Ron might be doing the same night. Hermione's letter lay on his bed, but the scent had faded. Only the smell of dry ink on parchment remained.
He looked out his window; it was still open wide to allow him to gaze out into the night sky. The stars were brighter tonight, but he didn't care, the moon was not out, it was the moon he looked at, and not the stars. His walls were emblazoned with orange hues from the street lamps outside. He could hear Uncle Vernon snoring loudly from the room down the hall.
Visions and dreams from the night in the tower filled his head. Along with his own interpretations, lust filled interpretations. His head was light. His arms were nimble. He saw glimpses of Hermione in his mind. She lay next to him on the bed, Her hair tickling his face. His head was swimming. His body was hot; He was sweating under the giant shirt that he was wearing. Panting, he took it off.
His heart was beating against his chest. He could hear it in his ears; his trousers were intolerably tight around the waist. His legs, too, were hot. He got up to remove them but at the moment he tore them off his legs, he saw Hermione push him onto the bed. She lay on his side.
Harry couldn't believe himself; he felt Hermione's hair in his bare shoulders, on his cheeks, on his chest.
And the scent, yes, the scent of strawberries and roses filled the air that he breathed. Where did that come from?
Goosebumps lined his arms and neck, but his head was hot, he was hot, his heart would not stop racing.
"I need them," Harry called to the air. His eyes rolled back, into his head, breathing increased. "I'm dreaming," he said to himself.
The curtain from around his open window swayed in the evening breeze. The wind entered his bedroom, blowing against his skin. It did not cool him, however, it made his body warmer, all the more. Again it entered, but now it called his name.
"Harry…" The wind called, in a voice barely audible to him. Harry was still in bed. His naked legs felt the wind caress him.
"Harry…" The wind blew again, this time the voice was clearer. It was Hermione's voice. Harry opened his eyes weakly, he saw Hermione at his side.
"Hermione, what are…"
"Shh..." the figure whispered.
"What, how…" he tried to ask her, but she only smiled. The figure's arms reached forth and took Harry in an embrace.
"No," Harry thought, it was impossible. Hermione could not be in there with him. She couldn't Apparate.
But it was too real, the feeling of her arms around him, her embrace, her hair against his face, the thin material of her clothing between them, against his bare skin…her scent, her scent it was so real, her essence filled his mind, his room.
The sensations from the presence of her body pressing against his, emanated to the periphery of his limbs, to his groin and to his organ.
Embarrassed by his erection, Harry pulled the blanket over it to cover himself. The figure of Hermione smiled smiled,
"Show me," she said, whispering in his ear. Blood rose to Harry's face. His ears were scarlet; half embarrassed by her request. Harry turned back to look at her, but the expression of her face had not changed, it was the same understanding and smiling face that asked him.
She blinked slowly. "Show me," she whispered again, in the same haunting voice that wind used, to call him earlier.
Harry pulled down his boxers and revealed his organ, fully erect, an obscene object to show to someone he loved as much as her; but it was her will that he followed.
The wind blew into his room, against his naked legs and at his organ. Harry gasped. A thousand sensations passed over him. His sweating increased. Hermione still looked at him with those caring tender eyes.
"Show me, Harry," Hermione whispered again in the cold voice.
Harry's hand reached down to grab his organ; with the other he caressed his nipple. Hermione moved only to blink her eyes lazily as she watched him touch himself.
Harry moved his hand slowly up and down his erect maleness. Keeping his eyes on her as she watched him. His other hand moved down to his stomach, and then to his pubis, caressing the hairline.
Hermione moved forward, ever so slowly, and crawled on to the space next to him. Harry felt her hair on his face, her scent surround him. He turned his head aside to look at her. She smiled at him. Harry closed his eyes.
When he opened them he saw Ron in the bed too, doing the same as he, pleasuring himself, while Hermione lay between them. The bed seemed too small for the three of them, but it did not matter, they were together. He reached back for his nipple; his breathing deepened; his climax was near.
He turned to look at Hermione, who remained the same, still smiling, still caring. Ron looked back at him, with an understanding smile.
Harry stroked harder, and faster, and in a few final strokes, it was done, the seed of life came forth, and onto his belly.
The wind entered his bedroom again, Hermione and Ron were still there, but the scent of Hermione's hair was slowly fading. The wind blew harder, and his two friends vanished.
Harry sniffed the air in his room; no there was nothing, not even a trace of her. They were only visions. Harry closed his eyes again and fell sleep.
* * *
That same night, Ron awoke to the smell of the dry grass, his head rested on Hermione's lap, as did Harry's. They lay on a huge blanket in the paddock, under the stars. The night air was warm, and so was the ground.
"I thought we'd do this again some time," Hermione told the both of them. "Look at the same sky that we saw in the astronomy tower," she continued.
"It isn't the same," Harry said. He spoke so softly, as though his voice was failing him.
"Why's that, mate?" Ron asked Harry.
"There's no moon tonight.," Harry replied, softly now, but the emotions weren't absent as they were earlier.
"The moon can wait, right now, it's more than enough that you are here," Ron replied. He looked up to see Hermione smiling at him. Her hair was swaying in the light breeze that flew past them.
Hermione moved her legs; Ron and Harry sat up to allow her more movement. She stood up; Harry stood up as well. Ron followed.
"What are we doing?" he asked them.
"I feel warm," Hermione replied, unbuttoning her blouse. Ron turned to Harry, who had taken off his shirt, and was getting back on the blanket.
"It's hot tonight, isn't it?" He asked Ron. Ron took off his shirt as well.
Hermione got back on the blanket, Her skirt was open, but not off; allowing Ron glimpses of her physique. Ron sat down next to her.
Hermione lay down, and the moment she did, Ron allowed her to rest her head on his belly, and he on Harry, as Harry did the same on Hermione.
A moment of silence occupied the space between them. Subdued later by the song of crickets from the grass behind. Ron played with Hermione's hair, holding it in his palm and twisting it his fingers.
The night was dense and humid; the trees were but shadows against the night. Sweat was forming in Ron's chest, glistening under the starlight. Hermione cocked her head to look at Ron, who looked back at her, reading the expression.
"I think I like how we were on the oak bed better," she told him. Ron agreed, smiling at her. Harry said nothing, but he turned and looked at them. Hermione crawled to Ron's side and Harry on her opposite.
They lay on their sides each holding the other, half naked and half clothed; Like three little children, afraid to lose one another.
"What are you thinking Harry?" Ron asked him.
"Nothing particular, Ron," Harry replied weakly.
"Hermione, how about you?" Ron asked her.
"Shh. I'm not thinking really, I'm trying to remember this moment exactly as it is," she replied. "I wanted this to happen again soon, but we never got the chance," she said. "And now that we finally have, I want to remember it exactly as it is." She smiled at Ron.
She kissed his forehead. Ron closed his eyes; again there was the familiar tingling sensation that ran across his body. She turned to face the sky, lying flat on her back, but not before planting the same kiss on Harry's brow.
Ron lay on his back as well, so did Harry. Hermione's hair was in Ron's face again, and it brought with it the familiar scent of roses and strawberries. It was a familiarity that Ron had hoped to have, a scent that he longed for, at night in his room, when he dreamed. Ron saw Harry move to kiss Hermione's lips; he watched them for a while, then turned his gaze back to the night sky. No he wasn't jealous, in fact he was happy for the both of them.
Ron closed his eyes. He caught Hermione's hair between his lips and later his teeth. He wanted to taste it so, he wanted to taste her so. He wanted to taste her. No, he wanted her. He wanted her, and he wanted him as well, He wanted him with her. No, he wanted the both of them, with him together.
When he opened his eyes, he found her brown irises staring back at him. She smiled, and then closed her eyes and kissed his mouth, he closed his eyes as well, he parted his lips and allowed her tongue passage into his mouth. And it did, but it wanted the favor returned, and he was more than willing to give it back. He did so lightly at first, careful not to hurt her. Lust overtook him; he probed and probed and probed into her mouth.
The kiss broke. Ron opened his eyes; she was staring at him with those familiar tender eyes.
Ron closed his eyes. He stayed still for a moment, then, after a while, reopened them.
He was greeted by the sight of the morning sun his room, the scent of the dried grass had vanished. There was no more Hermione, no more Harry near him. All that was left was the memory of the dream that was last night.
To be continued…
A/N1: Hey you guys! I wrote this a few days back, unfortunately, My beta's computer crashed and just got resurrected. I waited for her to email this to me edited. I just can't post unedited work here…
A/N2: "The root cause of magic is desire" I read something like that in The Necronomicron (a supposedly ancient book of spells), when I was younger. I thought that maybe I'd use it sometime.
A/N3:I'm so sorry for the delay of this Chapter, like I said before, I'd rather not post, than post something unedited. I find it embarrassing.
Acknowledgements:
Steph- Thanks! I hope this is soon enough for you. You reviewed twice, thanks, and by the way, I'm a guy, so I can't really write a good Hermione situation.
Angelic_devil- Thanks, I appreciate it. I really am trying to do it properly, love ya too, as I do all my readers and reviewers.
ArchChancellor- Thank you, I think I intended it to be that way sad and sweet.
Macy Gray- Thanks, thanks, thanks. I'm elated that you like the writing. I have learned to love them as well.
Hpfreak18- You're welcome! Her site has been experiencing a little construction lately, but I think it's done now… Thanks, I am trying to write real emotions, and I'm glad that it's translating well.
Roxanne- Thanks! I'm happy you fell that way, I am trying to write it like that. I loved the storm scenes too.
Sliver- Thanks dude! Claro, ff.net estuve mal ultimamente. Pero ahora ya he updated. I hope this is soon enough for you. Thanks for emailing me!
Sandi- Thanks, I'm a little insecure about how Hermione's character is translating. Well I hope that this chapter isn't too smutty for you, I am still writing pathos stuff am I? I'm not so sure myself…
Odessa- Thanks for reviewing, I hope this is soon enough for you!
Sally- Thanks I hope you like this chapter!
XOX- Thanks! You're reviews are so, well, they make light headed. I'm flattered me to your list.
Sweet pup- Thanks! I hope this soon enough for you, hope you like it!
