Timeless: And The Reason Is You

Chapter III: Sold and Saved

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING, well except for the plot and the new characters (mine. mine. mine!!! I just write for fun, all right?)

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A/N: How long has it been? One year? Whoa… I am terribly sorry to all those who waited in painful agony for an update (especially midnight solitaire). I won't give any more excuses for I have simply exhausted all of them. However, I can definitely make it up to all of you now that Abyss (my other story) is on hold and thus, I can fully concentrate on continuing and hopefully, finishing this particular fic. I could keep rambling on but then the next chapter is just around the corner… I certainly wouldn't want to keep you waiting after all this time… Enjoy!

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"My child, I am not sending you away in spite. Nay, it pains me greatly to be parted from you but the walls of Dijon can provide the very safety our little village dearly prays for. With the Nantese in our very borders and with my people's distrust in your presence…"

Hesse's tearful farewell kept playing in Hermione's mind as she shifted in her seat. The young boy next to her gave an irritated moan and turned to his side. Sighing, Hermione looked back towards the window and willed herself not to break down in tears. She couldn't tell how far she was from Hon or even how long they had been travelling since the landscape never changed from the moment they started. All she could see were fields and hundreds of trees and an occasional manor in the distance. They rarely passed anyone and if another caravan came along the same road, only a few words between the horsemen were exchanged.

Their wagon suddenly passed over a rut in the road and Hermione quickly braced herself for the crashing of the pots and pans stacked all over the cramped place. Thankfully, nothing fell and the boy kept snoring in his dreamy state. Hermione's thoughts then turned to the servant who placed her inside such a place. After Lord Gareth begrudgingly agreed to accommodate Hermione, she was turned over to a haughty looking woman who in turn, disposed of her by ordering her to get inside the particular wagon. Hermione kept silent even after such a treatment since she knew that she would rather keep the pots and pans company than walk all the way in the scorching heat to the castle.

As the day wore on, Hermione in absolute boredom began thinking about the one person who made all of her torment possible: Draco Malfoy. She cringed as his taunting voice and malicious smirk swam in her head but she preferred thinking about him than a certain redhead she left back home. "I wonder if he's all right," said Hermione to no one in particular since the boy was still sleeping soundly to care. "I mean, I couldn't care less if he just disappeared from my life completely but this time, I – ugh – need to be with him. I have to find him soon if I want to find out how to get back. Of course, I'm perfectly contented with leaving him here but I certainly can't do everything alone." Hermione sighed and hugged the package in her arms. It was her school uniform, freshly washed and dried, and her only reminder of the world she left behind. As tears fell on her cheeks, she closed her eyes and tried to sleep for it was the only refuge she had against the feeling of hopelessness that slowly enveloped her heart.

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Hermione's hand shook as she spooned a lumpy mass of steaming gruel and her breath became even more ragged as the bitter night endlessly brought cold mists that passed through the wagon's rusted bars. She had already draped her school robes over her shoulders but the temporary warmth it provided wasn't enough. The gruel on the other hand was a small consolation for though terribly bland, it still gave Hermione enough nourishment to last throughout the night and even the next morning.

The boy was now wide awake, immediately aroused by the gruel's aroma when the haughty girl suddenly opened the door and pushed two bowls across the floor. His own bowl lay abandoned on the floor, having finished it immediately after it arrived and he was now eyeing Hermione's every so often. But he remained quiet, save for the few groans he muttered every now and then, and merely returned his companion's warm smile with a wary gaze.

As minutes grew into long hours and as the heavenly stars slowly disappeared into the breaking daylight, Hermione finally took note of the boy's disheveled appearance out of boredom and mild interest. He looked about ten though his eyes would suggest otherwise for they betrayed emotions that no longer knew innocence and laughter. Loose mud-caked clothes hid his frail body while his thin arms were clearly marked with wounds and bruises. His hands were no longer that of a child for they had already grown rough and scarred, an everlasting reminder of ordeals one at such an age should not have faced.

All this Hermione slowly took in and a wave of compassion and bewilderment involuntarily moved her to take the boy's hands in her own. The boy flinched but did not break away, his intense stare meeting Hermione's head-on. Finally he found the strength to speak once again, his voice as hard as his gaze. "They will sell you too just as I have been."

Hermione started at this revelation and her voice faltered as she urged the boy to tell her more. But he merely shook his head and said, "In Dijon we both shall know but I do not care what lies in store for me… "

"But you are just a little boy! How can you talk like that? You have your whole life ahead of you and you've already given up," cried a now troubled Hermione. What happened to him that made him lose all meaning in life?

The boy suddenly wrenched his hands free and roughly pushed Hermione away. Tears sprung from his eyes as his face contorted in anger and pain. "The Nantese took her away…. I saw them… I saw what you did not see! I saw them! I – " His upset tirade was finally cut short when Hermione wrapped her arms around his shaking body. He could not stop crying but her tight embrace helped lighten the heavy burden that plagued his very soul once again.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to remind you of that… I had no idea… I'm so sorry, " whispered Hermione as she slowly rocked the young boy back and forth. But even as her voice remained calm and soothing, deep inside fear and panic was taking over. Then it's true! Everyone is in danger from the Nantese. There's a war going on and I'm stuck in the middle of it… Hermione fearfully looked out the tiny window but she couldn't find anything out of the ordinary. She then turned to the boy and to her surprise found him sound asleep in her shoulder.

The war has already caused this boy's loved one… Who knows what it might do to me? I really have to get back to Hogwarts before anything else happens… With a weary sigh, Hermione gently placed the boy back on his corner but now with her school robes under his head. She contented herself with leaning back on the wagon's tattered walls and tried to forget about the dilemma of getting back home and instead concentrate on the final destination that lay ahead: Dijon.

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"Well, wake up! Wake up! They won't wait all day for you!"

"What… What's going on?" Hermione slowly opened her eyes and yawned loudly. She had only fallen asleep an hour before and she wasn't exactly prepared to immediately move at a moment's notice.

"Move it, lass!"

Somewhat more alert, Hermione saw the haughty servant standing outside the open door looking very annoyed. A shuffling noise to her left caused her to look at the young boy and to her surprise, he was already standing up and slowly moving out of the wagon. With great difficulty, Hermione finally got up and followed after the boy, bending almost all the way to her knees.

Having sat for almost three days straight in a tightly cramped space, Hermione gratefully stretched her almost aching and almost numb body while taking deep breaths of fresh, open air. Only that it wasn't too fresh as Hermione quickly noted for a somewhat stale and pungent smell was distinctly present all around her.

"Come on, now!" Hermione was suddenly grasped by the arm and she winced at the intense pressure the haughty servant applied.

"But wait…" Dazed and confused, she finally found enough nerve to speak but the woman ignored her and instead started pulling her away from the wagon and from the little boy who was now being led away to the opposite direction by another man. Oddly enough, he was following his captor quite obediently whereas Hermione was slowly making a scene.

"Wait – Where are you taking me? Let me go!" But the woman's grip was as hard as steel and even though Hermione tried to stop in her tracks, the woman still pulled her along without much difficulty.

"That woman back in the village of Hon did me a favor by begging Lord Gareth to bring you along! She did not know what future awaited you here else she would have changed her mind."

"Please let me go! Just stop it! Please…" Tears stung Hermione's eyes, as the woman's nails dug harder into her skin whenever she resisted. After a few more futile pleas, she finally gave up resisting and quietly continued walking alongside the woman. Not preoccupied with escaping anymore, Hermione fully saw her surroundings for the very first time. They were walking in a dimly lit alley, enclosed by dingy houses though they appeared to be abandoned while grimly dressed peasants roamed the corners, whispering among themselves.

A wide opening appeared on their right and the woman quickly walked towards it, tugging Hermione beside her. After a few meters, they turned another corner and Hermione shielded her eyes as bright sunlight suddenly greeted them. They had finally crossed the abandoned village of Felian and had arrived at the edge of the town of Dijon. To Hermione's surprise, a young lady who looked not much older than her was standing right across them and before she knew it, she was roughly pushed towards the girl.

"Here is another, Dinah. Tell Nimue I have fulfilled my part of the bargain."

The girl smiled and softly replied, "That I shall do. And shall I tell her to expect your presence in the festival?"

"If my lord returns in time for it." And with one last scornful look towards Hermione, the woman disappeared back into the shadows.

"Shall we?" said Dinah, acknowledging Hermione for the first time and without waiting for any response, started moving towards an open courtyard directly in front of them.

Hermione quickly followed but this time stayed a few paces behind her. Unlike the woman who brought her here, Dinah was dressed in a finer attire while her demeanor was undoubtedly more civilized. The people they passed by paid no heed to the both of them and even the soldier standing guard at the gate merely waved their entrance through. Past the gate at the end of the courtyard was an open grass-covered area, which eventually forked to three tunnels. Dinah took the upper right one, which finally led to another stone courtyard, far larger than the previous one, bustling with activity. Everywhere Hermione looked, there was bound to be a single person preoccupied with a certain task. Almost everyone was talking at the same time while quite a number of scattered horses added their own unique sounds to the din.

Entranced by the spectacle, Hermione quickly lost sight of her companion but after a few minutes of frantic searching, she finally caught sight of her near the entrance of yet another tunnel. When will this ever end? thought Hermione ruefully as she trudged towards the patiently waiting Dinah. Instead of leading into another open area this tunnel abruptly ended at an iron gate heavily guarded by soldiers with long handled axes which barred the door. Dinah immediately dropped down in a curtsy and said carefully, "I have returned from Nimue's bidding while she is to do service in the castle." Dinah swept her arm towards Hermione who was now standing rooted to the spot with wide eyes locked on the large blades.

The guard closest to them peered more closely at Hermione, clearly doubtful whether to let her pass. "You speak the truth, woman?"

"Aye. I call on the name of His Majesty to stand witness to my vow."

"Very well." The other two guards uncrossed their axes while the interrogator took a ring of keys from his chest.

The two walked quickly inside and when the gate clanged shut behind them, Dinah turned to Hermione and said, "Only the castle servants know this passageway. You are to speak of this to no one."

Hermione quickly nodded and Dinah resumed walking through the torch-lit hallway they were now in. The hallway suddenly veered to the right and at the very end loomed a stone staircase. Hermione's footsteps echoed loudly as they went down and as they arrived at the landing another woman was waiting for them.

"Nimue, I have done just as you have asked. This is the girl brought by Lord Gareth's servant." Dinah prodded Hermione forward and the elderly woman named Nimue took Hermione by the chin and turned her face this way and that. "Your name, child?"

"Hermione." Nimue strangely reminded her of Professor McGonagall: terribly strict and disciplined although the same tenderness that made the professor a motherly figure in Hogwarts did not appear in Nimue's manner.

"You seem not to have worked at all! Are you used to hard labor, Hermione?" Nimue was now observing her hands, perplexed at the absence of boils and calluses usually present in a peasant's hand.

Hard labor? Just what kind of work am I expected to do here?! "Well, I'm not exactly sure – "

But Nimue simply brushed her answer away with a wave of her gnarled hand and turning to Dinah said, "I expect the best, of course. See to it that she does not disappoint. Lead her to Laura's quarters then show her to her work afterwards." With that, Nimue turned around and quickly left them, her large skirt noisily rustling after her.

Dinah beckoned to Hermione and they started walking in the opposite direction. With every step she took, Hermione fell even deeper in a pit of despair. She knew that once she officially became a servant, the chances of leaving and safely getting back was now remotely slim. She could make a run for it now; Dinah did not look like she was strong enough to hold her down but then again it was definitely more dangerous for her to be out in the open while the Almerians and the Nantese were having a go at each other. She would just have to patiently wait and bear her current status until an opportune time presented itself.

"Here we are." Dinah opened a door and stepped inside. But instead of another dingy corridor before her, Hermione found herself in a brightly-lit hallway with numerous closed doors on one side. Dinah passed one door after the other until Hermione lost track of just how many there were. They finally stopped near the end of the line and after Dinah turned a key in the lock, she pushed the door open but did not enter the room. Hermione slowly stepped inside after Dinah waved her hand to let her in and she immediately sank down on the cold floor in gratitude and relief.

"Don't get too comfortable, Hermione. I will come back after a short while and you have to be clean and dressed by then, " remarked Dinah as she closed the door but it immediately opened again and Dinah's head popped in. "You may wash yourself in there," said Dinah as she pointed across the room. " And be sure you are thoroughly clean," she added, stressing on the word clean after taking another disapproving look at Hermione's disheveled appearance.

After Dinah's footsteps faded in the background Hermione lazily stood up and looked around the room she was now in. Across her were four simple beds while a wooden table and chairs occupied the space on her right. There was also a broken cabinet near the beds and a small makeshift fireplace completed the overall look. Knowing that Dinah would return at any time, Hermione started walking briskly to the door that Dinah had pointed earlier, opened it and stepped outside. Tall wooden walls surrounded a small area beyond the door while four large buckets full of water and a round wooden basin sat quietly at the far left. Hermione suddenly found herself immediately wanting a bath for she had after all, just traveled for three days with only a damp washcloth to clean her face while her vain attempt at washing herself back at Hesse's only proved to be a temporary bonus.

Stripping quickly off all her clothes, Hermione went straight to the buckets and without any more thought, dumped one's entire contents all over her aching body. She did not clean herself yet and she simply took her time relishing the water's cold sensation, which started to bring her back to full consciousness. She knew how much she needed that; the past days had just been unbearable to both her mind and body and she craved for another boost to help her get through.

Hermione finally dropped on her knees in exhaustion and reaching for another bucket, poured more water over her head. But this time she stopped halfway through and as she sat silently, waiting for her fears and problems to be washed away, tears slowly dropped down her face and mingled with the crystal clear water running down her body.

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It was sheer determination that drove Draco to stagger amidst leaf laden paths, thick and thorny bushes, water filled pits and clearings sometimes inhabited by rotting corpses. It was sheer determination to survive this hell-hole but it could also simply be his natural characteristic as a Malfoy to desire victory before any challenge, be it life-threatening or otherwise.

A hawk's cry suddenly echoed throughout the silent forest and Draco immediately flinched at the sound. After a few more steps he collapsed on the muddy ground, exhausted and starving to death. He gave a low moan and turned on his back, savoring the few rays of sunlight that now warmed his ice-cold face. He knew he wouldn't last until nightfall but he wasn't exactly keen on giving up either. I will get out of this place at whatever cost, thought Draco as his wounded fists slowly clenched at his sides. The hawk gave another piecing screech and this time, it jolted the wizard's dying spirit back to life.

Summoning all his remaining energy, Draco slowly stood up once more and vainly tried to look around him for the trail he abandoned hours ago. But there was no worn-out path to be seen and Draco was only left with the option to retrace his steps. With fatigue and hunger threatening him into unconsciousness, he sped up his pace and only stopped whenever his legs would finally give way. The sun was already setting in the red-blood sky when Draco finally found the trail. He broke into a staggering run, leaning on tree trunks for support, and followed the worn path that headed west of the forest. It seemed that the trail was indeed the right one for the heavy air somehow became fresher after a few meters and the never ending line of trees became thinner. His strength and energy renewed, Draco kept on going on well into the night, fully ignoring his aching muscles and pessimistic thoughts.

However, as the night lingered on and as the now cold air became shrouded mists, Draco simply could not take the journey any longer and he wearily dropped on his knees. Pushed beyond his limit, he finally gave in to exhaustion and resignation. With his head bent back, he let the bitter air sting his scratched face while his equally cold eyes beheld the still partially covered moon. No cruel laugh escaped from his dry chapped lips for his once intimidating voice became terribly hoarse and weak. He contented himself with a sarcastic smile, the next best means to mock and taunt his own self for landing in such a predicament.

If you had only listened to her… She told you not to open the box. Look at where your self-righteous act brought you now… Draco kept strangely silent, seemingly struck guilty by the accusations suddenly pounding through his troubled mind. As the leaves rustled in the now howling wind, Draco slowly found himself finally surrendering to the undeniable truth. His spirit having lost the temporary spark the hawk had provided earlier no longer desired to fight or to even try anymore.

With eyes half-closed, Draco found himself smiling once more. He had always waited for the chance to escape the harsh realities of his life but he never knew it was going to be like this. With one last look at the dark sky, he collapsed and waited for the darkness to finally close in. Too preoccupied with waiting for death, Draco didn't notice the surprised man who just emerged from behind the trees.

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The knight shifted uneasily on his horse. His page was taking a long time retrieving the banner that had been blown into the forest when they set up camp earlier. He wanted to arrive in Dijon by sunrise but he knew it would be impossible to achieve at the rate they were going.

"All is quiet, Colric. You need not cast your eyes over your shoulder."

The servant looked sheepishly back at the knight and lowered his head. "They say that the fighters of Nantes are abroad, my lord. The forest is already filled with the dead…" His wide eyes traveled to the great trees looming on their left but when he met the knight's disapproving stare, he gave another bow and simply moved away.

"That is why we are keeping to the road," muttered the knight to himself. He knew Colric was right in his assumptions but there was no need for an unfounded alarm. At least, not yet. The villages surrounding the area were terrorized every now and then by the Nantese but only a few had been apprehended since the beginning of the onslaught.

The hawk on his shoulder suddenly gave a screech as heavy footsteps broke the silence of the bleak night. The knight immediately drew his sword while Colric grabbed a branch lying on the ground and with heavily trembling hands, held it in front of him.

"My lord, it is I, Fortin! I have returned!"

Upon hearing the voice the knight relaxed his grip and returned the greeting. "Come Fortin, for your tarrying has cost us almost half a day's march." He sheathed his sword and pulled on the horse's reins. "We now make haste!" The hawk immediately gave a cry and flew into the night.

"My lord!" The ill-gotten page now emerged from the forest and cried out once again, this time with more difficulty. "Sir Kay! I have found something more than your banner!"

The knight finally turned around and gripped the reins more tightly in surprise. Fortin was carrying something – no, someone on his back somewhat hidden by the blue cloth. The banner was wrapped around an unconscious young man whose skin was as pale as the moon.

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"Damn it! God, how I hate wearing this!" Hermione had tripped for the umpteenth time because of her inexperience at wearing a very long skirt, which was unfortunately part of her uniform as a castle servant.

To her dismay, Hermione was given clothes identical to Dinah's and quite similar to the ones Hesse gave her, thus meaning layers and layers of cloth. First were the linen undergarments, which were thankfully soft against the skin and which were also long enough to be considered a full outfit back at home. Next was a rose colored cotton dress with sleeves that reached up to her wrists and a full-length skirt that touched the ground. A long sleeveless tunic called a surcoat was placed on top of it, partially hidden by an apron around her waist. There were no stockings this time and the ankle-high shoes were harder and a better fit.

The next affair to settle was her long bushy hair and Dinah was more meticulous about it than the Gryffindor girls at Hogwarts. After thoroughly combing it – though it felt like yanking to Hermione who was very near tears – for almost an hour, Dinah deftly fixed it in a braid then tightly wound it in a neat bun. Hermione never felt her head that sore and tender until that very day but as the week progressed, she slowly became used to the daily torture.

"Stupid skirt," grumbled Hermione as she stood up, roughly brushing the offensive item and continued walking briskly to the courtyard. She was already late for her current errand and the head mistress down there was sure to have her head once she arrived. Although Hermione had been working full-time for two weeks, she was still getting used to basically everything: from the countless everyday chores to the castle's labyrinth of passages, courtyards and hallways – places she had always lost her way in.

As a large bell tolled the current hour, Hermione finally reached a wide area occupied by about two dozen women slaving over laundry; some singing, others chattering as they worked their way through heaping mounds of dirty linen. She slowly worked her way past them and entered into another wide, open space; this time it was filled with rows of clean laundry hung out to dry. It was Hermione's task to get the dry ones down, place them in a large wicker basket and transport the pile back to the inner castle. She often has to make about ten trips or more to complete this particular chore before she could move to the cloisters for her next one.

Making her way back to the castle, now burdened with a heavy basket in her arms, Hermione's thoughts slowly drifted back to the place she left behind. She would often dream about her parents and even Hogwarts but she would always wake up in the middle of it, tears silently staining her pillow and more drained than the day before. And then, there was still Malfoy. As the days progressed, so did the news of the turmoil plaguing the outside. The attacks of the Nantese were increasing by the hour and Hermione grew steadily concerned for his safety. She knew that with the walled fortress of both Dijon and the castle of Lyon, anyone inside was guaranteed protection but the odds of him staying in the same town were a million to one. All she could do, therefore, was fervently wish that he was as safe as she now was.

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"Why are we still keeping him here?"

Draco's eyes fluttered open and a wave of pain and nausea immediately swept over him. He gave a low moan and turned on his side, desperate to slip back into unconsciousness and peace.

"Do not worry, Benin. As soon as Sir Kay gets back, we shall be rid of him once and for all."

Him? Draco forced himself to wake up once more and tried to concentrate on the two shadows talking outside amidst his terrible migraine. Are they talking about me?

"Well, the sooner the better. Picking up fainted lads from forests is not exactly wise."

"Shut your trap, Benin! It was Sir Kay's will and you know it!"

"But he could be a spy from Nantes or even worse – a hired assassin!"

Nantes again, thought Draco as he slowly got up. But wait, what was he doing here? From what he had heard, some Sir Kay rescued him from the forest and brought him here – wherever here was. Draco's head suddenly swam and he crumpled into the floor. Fortunately, the two men were still bickering too loudly to hear the thump and Draco tried to scramble back up on the bed before they noticed.

"For the love of God, man, he is just a lad!"

"You can't be too sure, Lars! I'm going inside to check on him. There's something funny about him, that's for sure." Benin drew out his sword, much to the horror of Draco who saw its shadow on the tent flap but Lars held him back.

"Are you mad? We stay in our posts until Sir Kay gets back. You can air your suspicions later."

I have to get out of here before Sir Kay gets back and Benin gets to slice me into pieces… Draco knew he was too weak to defend himself if the time came and he decided right then and there to escape. As he stood quietly up he suddenly realized that he was heavily bandaged and completely undressed except for a small cloth tied at his hips. Muttering under his breath, he grabbed a hooded cloak that lay on a chair and tried to inch his way towards the tent opening opposite the two men.

"Finally! I see Sir Kay approaching and that scrawny squire is with him… Just a few more minutes and I can lay my hand on that boy."

"You wait here and I'll go check on him. Better wake him up now that Sir Kay's here."

Upon hearing this, Draco tightened the cloak around him and quickly raised the tent flap. With hands tightly clutched at his chest, he staggered away from the tent and disappeared into the crowd.

"I trust that you had improved your skills."

"Yes, my lord. And what of this boy…"

"He is no younger than yourself, Elian. You shall meet him soon enough. Now, I have to – "

"My lord?" Elian turned to Sir Kay who was now looking at their tent with furrowed eyebrows. He followed the knight's gaze and saw a soldier frantically running towards them.

"He's gone, my lord! I went inside the tent to announce your arrival and the bed was bare!" cried Lars as he dropped to the ground.

Sir Kay looked at Lars for a moment then sighed tiredly. He then turned to Elian and said, "Find him for me. Search only the courtyards. He could not have gone inside the castle."

"Very well, Sir Kay. But I cannot find him if I do not know how he looks…"

"Lars shall accompany you. You must bring him back immediately, unharmed. Alert the other soldiers on your way but I do not want to attract attention."

Elian bowed and together with Lars, hastily ran off in search of Draco. Sir Kay gazed silently after them and after a few minutes walked away in the opposite direction, great concern reflected in his eyes.

* * ~ ~ * *

"Thank God that's over," said Hermione as she stretched her tired arms up in the air. She had just finished her responsibility in the laundry area and she was now headed towards the cloisters to help clean the stone floors.

Armed with rags and a bucket, she carefully made her way and entered the passage that would lead to the cloisters. She immediately went to work once she got there, dousing the grime covered floor with water then scrubbing it clean with a rag. Another girl was also in the cloisters but ignored Hermione as she worked devotedly in her own side.

When her bucket finally became empty Hermione stood up and cautiously made her way towards the large well near the cloisters. While she was pulling the bucket out of the well, angry shouts and orders of 'Halt, I say!' suddenly erupted nearby and Hermione turned around at the sound. Sensing that trouble was already brewing outside, she quickly transferred the water into her own bucket and made her way back to the cloisters. But as she passed by an open gap between the walls, a huge force suddenly knocked her off her feet and water immediately rained on her as the bucket flew high into the air and came crashing down.

Massaging her head as she knelt down, Hermione drew a sharp intake of breath when she saw a hooded person lying before her. He's the one who must have crashed into me, thought Hermione as she watched the person moan and get back up, terribly swaying as he did.

"Are you all right? That was a nasty fall right there…"

The person started in surprise at the sound of her voice and as he slowly turned around to face her, Hermione felt the earth suddenly give way beneath her. That pale face… Those gray eyes… Those lips that were curled into an everlasting smirk… They were finally reunited.

"Malfoy…"

* * ~ ~ * *

A/N: I can't write anymore. I'm through. Well, at least for this particular chapter anyway… I really hope you liked this. I don't know if it's as good as the first two since I've been out of practice for sooo long. I hope this wasn't boring… I know there was a lot of narrative done but I do believe you got through all of it, if you hadn't fallen asleep by then… Whether you enjoyed or not though I wish you did, don't forget to write me a review! Yep. Don't forget to review, review, review! So I'm a sucker for your feedback. Sue me.

I've got some good news. At this point, I am definitely not backing out of finishing this story and as a bonus, I even have a sequel already planned. Yes, there will be a sequel. Now if only I can survive until the final chapters… *nervously bites fingernails*

I guess that's it. By some luck, I can have the next chapter out by next week or if not, by early May. =)

I won't write any summary for the next chapter. Just expect lots and lots of Draco and Hermione action! Whohooo! =)

And you've probably noticed that I added a few words to the title. I just loved Hoobastank's song since it captures the essence of the D/Hr theme. I may feature it in the later chapters if I'm still up for it…