PART ELEVEN

The Letter

The snow had started to fall that night before the first Quidditch match of the year. Snow usually meant that we were nearly halfway through the school year, yet still I ignored the sign. I kept it to myself even longer. I hadn't bothered telling anyone, and I had tried to keep busy so as not to let the thought surface into my mind. I paid attention to the petty little things and the less important details. I had thought that if I'd tried to ignore the warning, it'd soon go away. But I was strongly mistaken.

***

Malfoy stared at the stack of parchment in his gloved hands, frowning heavily. It was a very wrong day for Snape to pick. He'd just been given another test, and although he knew he'd studied more seriously with Hermione these past few days after his father's punishment, he still felt nervous about the exam. He had a feeling he would fail again just like before, and get another dose of his father's torture. The only thing that would prevent him from crossing that undesirable path again was to ask for Hermione's help before taking the test.

But from the looks of it, it seemed like he wouldn't possibly be able to do that anymore, considering how Hermione was avoiding him as much as possible. And he didn't even know why.

A burst of cheer from everyone around him jolted him from his thoughts. He looked up and saw that a red blur on a broomstick had just sped across the wide Quidditch field in front of him and had thrown a Quaffle straight through a Hufflepuff goal post. Gryffindor had scored again. He shook his head and leaned back into his seat in the audience, among his Housemates. Too bad everyone was obliged to watch all the Quidditch matches. He didn't really want to be present at another one of Gryffindor's phony show of skill. The only good thing about this was that classes were cancelled within the duration of the Quidditch matches, which was definitely a plus.

Well, there is another plus, though…

He looked far across the field at the students seated opposite the Slytherins, scanning the faces of the eager crowd. And finally, he spotted her, wrapped in a coat and a red scarf with her now straight brown locks resting gracefully on her shoulders, a few seats away from that blundering gamekeeper Hagrid, who was by far the easiest to spot. He squinted to get a clearer view of her beauty, and saw that she wasn't staring excitedly at the players on the field, but was rather focusing on something else high above in the sky.

He curiously followed her gaze and spotted Harry on his Firebolt, hovering over all the players in search of the Snitch. When all of a sudden, he dived down at the speed of light, a determined look on his face, towards a point somewhere above the Ravenclaw stands. Everyone in the audience began to stand up in anticipation, except for the students in the Slytherin stands. And Malfoy was one of them. His eyes lazily followed suit of Harry's pathetic demonstration of his supposed talent, as he sped further down. Malfoy could see Cho Chang rooting animatedly for Harry, and it made him sick to the stomach. He glanced up at Hermione in the Gryffindor stands again, and saw that even she was grinning breathlessly at Harry's near victory. And when the Snitch was finally caught, Hermione, along with everyone who wasn't in Slytherin and Hufflepuff, started jumping around in triumph, grinning like crazy. If Cho's reaction had made Malfoy sick, then Hermione's definitely made him want to hurl even more.

Damn it, he thought bitterly, wincing at the way Hermione ran down the Gryffindor stands to meet up with Harry on the field. The moment she reached him, she gave him the biggest hug Malfoy had ever seen, and Malfoy couldn't blame Harry for brightening up like the Dark Lord had been vanquished. Subconsciously, Malfoy began clenching his fists, crumpling the parchments in his hand. He gritted his teeth, suddenly feeling an even greater hatred for Harry, if that were possible. Here he was, suffering inner torment because Hermione wouldn't give him a second glance all because of a reason he didn't even know, and then there went Harry, winning a stupid Quidditch match and earning Hermione's affection in return. What the hell was that all about? He glared at Harry, who was being clobbered all over by a hyper-zealous mob. The filthy, disgusting, repulsive, cheating scumbag—

Wait a minute, Malfoy shook his head and stopped himself from shredding his test papers into a million pieces. Wait just a darn minute, he repeated. What the hell was he thinking? Why was he feeling this way? Hermione was Harry's best friend, whether Malfoy liked it or not, and every year Malfoy had been a witness to her customary hug-Harry-whenever-he-does-something-wonderful-that's-not-even-so-great-in-the-first-place attitude. So why was he particularly disturbed by her actions now?

Was he…jealous…?

Why the hell would he be jealous? What was there to be jealous about? Hermione was never Malfoy's…he never really thought of her that way…did he? She was a beauty. She was a goddess. She was purely divine considering her outer features. And he'd owned that divinity for a night. That was all. It was merely outward attraction…sure, it was nice that she'd always been concerned about him…but was he concerned about her? Did he care about her as much? Care enough to want to have her, and to possessively make her his own? Was that why he was jealous of the way Hermione showed her affection towards Harry?

He gazed down the grounds at her again, as she flipped her hair over her shoulder, smiling widely with Ron by her side. And his heart ached to be anywhere but in the Slytherin stands. He wanted to go down there. He wanted to be in her presence. He wanted to be near her…just to be near her…and it would all be worth it.

He missed her. God, he missed her. And for the first time, it wasn't her touch…her lips…her body…or her skin…for the first time, he ached to be with her, not to have any sensual moments, but just to be with her. Simply have her with him. Have her by his side. They didn't have to talk; they didn't have to fool around. He just wanted her to be there. He missed her, and longed for her very being. He missed everything about her; he missed the Hermione Granger within.

And it was paining him more than ever that she was avoiding him, now that he'd finally realized how she meant to him. She never came to the study again since yesterday's History of Magic session, and that night he had another painful nightmare again, something that hadn't happened to him for days now because of always having spent his nights with her. The cut on his right hand had smeared with burning pain again, and he'd woken up in the middle of the night, calling out her name.

He needed her…and perhaps…maybe…he even…lo—

He shook his head again. No. He didn't want to think of it that way. He couldn't. He shouldn't. He wasn't allowed to. He wasn't supposed to feel this way about her. It was unacceptable.

Anything but that…He shut his eyes and swallowed, feeling agonizing tears fighting their way to his eyes. He was on the brink of breaking down…the burbling feeling inside him was overwhelming and uncontrollable. He had to stop this and do everything to prevent this from happening. This wasn't right…he should deny himself before it was too late…yes…that was what he had to do…

Please…He took a deep breath and tried desperately to regain himself. Anything…but that…

"Draco…?"

He looked up. Pansy was smiling down at him, although he could see that her eyes were worried. "We're all heading back to the common room now," she said, above the noise of the Gryffindors' cheering. "Let's go, okay?"

Malfoy tried to get a hold of himself and push his previous thoughts out of his head. He stood up and followed Pansy, with the rest of the Slytherins, down the stands.

He had to convince himself. He had to. He shouldn't allow this to happen to him. He'd taken control over every emotion rising within him before just so he could fulfill his tasks, so why should this be any different?

Right, he thought strongly, absently allowing Pansy to take his hand once they had reached the grounds.  This shouldn't be too difficult.

He tried really hard to believe that.

***

It had been a while since I last saw the premonitions. Perhaps Fate wanted to give me another sign, for I had not paid attention to the previous ones. But this time, it wasn't peculiar or frightening at all. In fact, the vision almost felt…good. Of course, I could still feel the usual pain that would strike me whenever a vision would come up…but this time, it was worth it.  The only color I could see was green, and in my hand I was holding a wand. Overwhelming power was reverberating and surging through me, complementing my very existence. And for a split second, nothing else mattered in the world. Until I saw blood—fresh, dark red blood—on my hands…on my robes…all around me. But surprisingly…it felt wonderful.

***

Hermione and Malfoy suddenly had an unspoken agreement not to see each other since the first Quidditch game. Malfoy approached McGonagall and Snape and told them that he needed some time alone to study for his test, and see how well he could do without Hermione's help. This struck McGonagall as "very mature", and so she permitted it. Malfoy spent every History of Magic class in the Slytherin common room, studying by himself. He wanted to prove to Hermione, and to his father, that he could do it. He wanted Hermione to know that her avoiding him wasn't affecting him in any way at all. And at the same time, he wanted to keep away from her for a while, so that he could clearly think about how he truly felt about her. He knew that his feelings for her were gradually changing, and he didn't want that to happen. And so he was torn between trying to be distant, trying to maintain his pride, and trying to figure out how to stop missing her. Because even though he didn't want to fall for her, he still couldn't help but long for her every day. It hurt like hell.

And to top it off, every night without her was torture. He would have the same old recurring nightmares again, about defiance and punishment, and his wound would get even more excruciating than ever. He didn't know why exactly this was happening to him only whenever Granger was away, but he felt he didn't have time to figure it out. He would just have to bear it all and go on.

Hermione, on the other hand, missed him just as much. She regretted having started avoiding him in the first place, because now he was avoiding her as well. She wanted to confess her true feelings just like Ginny had suggested, but she couldn't even get the chance to talk to Malfoy now. She missed him terribly every day, especially now that she knew she loved him. She would confide in Ginny every night and would no longer leave the common room after dinner. She told Harry and Ron that McGonagall had given her a break from her duties for a while, at least until Christmas break. She went back to her History of Magic classes as well, and Ron concluded that the reason for Hermione's past nonchalant behaviors in class was that she was taking on too much work as Head Girl. Ron felt that now that her duties were lifted, she was back to her old self again.

Harry was just as glad to have her "normal" self back, and was just as pleased whenever she would stay in the common room with them after dinner every night, but Hermione couldn't help but notice that Harry looked less energetic than usual. She confronted Ron about this, and Ron told her that it was probably all the stress from having a steady girlfriend. Hermione accepted the theory. She noticed that Harry and Cho really were spending more time together than usual. She decided not to dwell on this, and not to let Ron dwell on this, because she knew they both had problems of their own. Ron's was stated in his journal, and Hermione's was missing Malfoy like hell and wanting so badly to get back to speaking terms with him again.

The bitter winter chill outside and the snow on her windowpane added to her lonely nights, plus, she noticed that Pansy was especially sticking close to Malfoy for the past few days for some reason. She would always see them together down the hall, during class, and at the Great Hall. And what was worse, Malfoy didn't seem to care that Pansy was flirting with him 24/7. Hermione couldn't be more jealous—for a moment she almost wished she hadn't told Malfoy to sack the gel and let his cute hair down just so Pansy wouldn't flirt a whole lot more—and hurt that perhaps Malfoy wasn't missing her like she was missing him.

She was wrong, though; Malfoy did miss her, and he really did care that Pansy was sticking to him like bee to honey. And he really was rejecting Pansy; only his way of showing it was a little different. He rejected girls by acting all aloof and cold around them, not caring what they did as long as they didn't bother him too much. Unfortunately, Hermione saw this act as a sort-of flirt-with-me-for-all-I-care-because-it's-fine-with-me sign. She didn't have the guts to approach him, nor did he have the guts to approach her; therefore, the misunderstanding and the steer-clear-of-each-other moments continued…until the end of October on the first trip to Hogsmeade for the year.

"Finally, a break from it all," Ron said to Harry happily, as they looked at the notice posted on the bulletin board the day before the trip.

Hermione was grateful for the break as well. It would not only be a break from school, from her real Head Girl duties and from the pressure of Pansy's flirting spree, but it would also be a break from stressing out over Malfoy too much. It would be a whole Malfoy-free day and it would give her momentary peace of mind and content of heart.

"See you," Harry said to her that day, as she went on ahead to the Three Broomsticks while Harry and Ron made their way to Honeydukes.

"I'm really glad to see her look so…stress-free. I haven't seen a peaceful look on her face since the beginning of the school year," Ron tightened his scarf around his neck, jerking his head to the direction where Hermione went.

"Yeah," Harry replied, rubbing his heavily covered arms with his gloved hands as they treaded on the snow towards the candy store. "I wonder why every girl's dream is to become Head Girl, considering the pressure."

"Not every girl, Harry," Ron countered. He pushed the door open to the store and they both hurried inside, shutting the door and the cold wind from outside. He looked around at all the students in the shop, gathered around every shelf. "Most girls actually have bigger and more useful aspirations." He pointed to a group of Hufflepuff girls fighting over some Licorice Wands.

Harry chuckled at Ron's joke and the two of them started grabbing every sweet they could get their hands on. They lost a whole lot of Sickles, and Ron even used up a whole bag of money, but they gained packs of Droobles Best Blowing Gum, Sugar Quills, Fizzing Whizbees, Stink Pellets, Exploding Bonbons, Ice Mice, Chocolate Frogs, and Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

Seeing Harry's worried look on Ron's empty moneybag, Ron grinned. "Don't worry; these are Fred and George's. They sent me some money so that I can buy them a few treats." He winked at Harry. "Of course, sweets aren't the only things I used the money up on."

They walked back to the Three Broomsticks, excited about all they've bought, yet freezing and definitely hungry for some Butterbeer.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked, scanning the occupied tables among all the people in the small inn.

Ron dusted off the snow on his coat and shrugged. "Reckon we should get a seat before we end up standing?"

Harry nodded and they started moving between tables, searching for a vacant spot. Then, in the middle of the inn, they spotted two empty tables and they hurriedly walked towards them.

Ron wrinkled his nose the moment they reached the seats. "Blimey, they haven't even cleared them yet," he said, staring at the empty mugs and plates on the tables.

"What's the matter, Weasley? Aren't you already used to this filth at your home?"

They both turned around and saw Malfoy sneering at the two of them, with, of course, his two bodyguards. Ron opened his mouth to argue, but Harry took hold of his wrist tightly, warning him not to snap back.

"Living up to your reputation, Saint Potter?" Malfoy raised his eyebrow, looking at Harry's death grip on Ron's wrist. "Don't want to cause a fight because you're Dumbledore's good little boy, I suppose." He nodded in a mocking way, as Harry glared at him menacingly. "Forgive me, though, but I think you two are in our seat." And he waved his wand, clearing the table for Crabbe, Goyle and him.

Ron's eyes flashed murderously. He grabbed the back of the chair where Goyle was beginning to sit. "We got here first!"

"My, getting all selfish now, are we? You're so childish, Weasley." Malfoy shook his head. "Didn't your mother ever teach you how to grow up and share, Ickle Ronniekins? Or is she too busy making both ends meet to have any quality time with you in your shack of a home?"

Ron made a move towards Malfoy that was far too quick for Harry to stop. In seconds, he had punched Malfoy right in the nose. Everyone around them turned to watch as Malfoy stumbled backwards a bit, touching his nose and inspecting the damage. Crabbe immediately raised his fist but Malfoy held up his hand. He looked at the blood on his fingers and smiled at Ron. "That's right, Weasel. You've just proved to me right now how childish you can get. I guess I was right about your mother all along."

This time Harry grabbed both of Ron's arms before he could do any more damage. Harry glared at Malfoy again. "Mind your own damn family before you go nosing into others', Malfoy. I doubt your mum taught you anything either, considering what you've grown up to be."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to say something more, when Hermione suddenly approached Harry and Ron, holding up two mugs of Butterbeer and looking warily at the on-going situation. "What in Merlin's name are you doing?" she asked all of them irritably, setting down the mugs on the table Malfoy had cleared. Everyone around them went silent, as Malfoy seemed to reconsider what he was going to snap back. He clenched his fists and bit his lip, glaring silently at Harry, who was glaring equally as much back at him.

"You were saying, Malfoy?" Ron asked challengingly, still staring angrily at him. Malfoy glanced at Hermione out of the corner of his eye, and did a double take when he saw her looking worriedly at him, and at his bleeding nose. For a moment there he held his gaze, and everyone kept his or her watch on them, bewildered. Then Malfoy saw right through the look Hermione was giving him—concern, alarm, and perhaps, disappointment. She had no idea how much that look had stabbed him right through the heart.

Before he could flinch and possibly get lost in her eyes, Malfoy immediately covered his nose from Hermione's sight and motioned for Crabbe and Goyle to sit at the neighboring table instead, without another word. And everyone started whispering madly.

Harry let Ron go, and they both sat down with Hermione on their table, Hermione choosing to ignore what just happened between Malfoy and her. "What were you guys thinking, starting a fight in here? You were lucky there are no teachers around right now, or you guys could've been sent straight to detention!"

"The slimebag started it," Ron said indignantly, grabbing a mug of Butterbeer and chugging down its contents heatedly. "Where have you been, anyway? You were supposed to save us a seat. If you had done that, we wouldn't have picked that fight with Malfoy. Even though he started it."

"But still! Something worse could have happened. And for your information, I was just chatting with Ginny for a while," Hermione scolded them, motioning for Harry to drink the other mug. "Go on—I've already had mine. Ron, don't you ever dare get me all worried again."

Ron put down his mug, staring at Hermione disbelievingly. "What I'm more worried about is why Malfoy suddenly decided to shut his fat mouth up right after you came. Was that a newfound respect for the Head Girl or something? Scared you might take points off his precious House?"

"I—I don't know," Hermione lied, suddenly blushing and hoping that Ron wouldn't notice. She quickly turned to Harry, who was drinking his mug silently, to change the topic. "You seem a little quiet, Harry. Something bothering you? I'm glad you didn't jump up on Malfoy, you know. That was a good thing you did."

Ron snorted, but Harry simply nodded. Hermione looked anxiously at him. "Harry? You okay?"

Harry put down his mug and sighed, and Hermione noticed that he looked more exasperated than ever, the dark circles under his eyes never fading. He looked at the two of them seriously. "Look, it's been a long time since the three of us got to hang out together again like this, and I actually want to make it worthwhile, okay? So can we please not talk about that freak of nature for once?"

Ron grinned. "So what do you want to talk about, Harry? It's Cho, isn't it?"

Hermione felt her stomach churn at the mention of her name, but was somehow relieved when she heard Harry's reply.

"No," Harry said, quickly glancing at the table in the far corner where Cho and her friends were talking. He looked back at the two of them. "There's something you guys need to know."

He reached into the pocket of his robes underneath his coat, and brought out the rolled parchment he had found in Transfiguration a few days back. Ron and Hermione stared curiously at the Gryffindor seal on it, and Harry handed the paper to Ron. "I found it the day you Transfigured your bag into a feline fiasco."

"And you're only telling me now?" Ron started studying the scroll. "What is it?"

"I…figured I didn't want you guys to know just yet. Open it and see for yourself." Harry said, looking even more tired.

"Harry, are you sure you're okay? We can go back to Hogwarts right now if you're not feeling too well, and maybe we'll talk about this…scroll at the common room," Hermione suggested, peering into his face as Ron tried to untie the ribbon. But surprisingly, he couldn't. He couldn't seem to open it at all.

"Bloody hell," he frowned, tugging at the ribbon. "It won't budge!"

"Oh, for crying out loud, Ron! You can't even open a ruddy scroll! I swear; you can be so ridiculous sometimes!" Hermione snatched it out of his hands, but found that she couldn't open it either.

Ron looked smugly at her. "Not so ridiculous now, am I?"

Hermione stuck her tongue out at him. "This is silly. Maybe it's just locked or something." She took out her wand and pointed at the parchment. "Or stuck. Diffindo!" And the parchment remained unscathed.

"Why in the world are you trying to rip it open???" Ron frowned again.

"Do you have any better ideas???" Hermione snapped back.

"Guys! Quit it!" Harry said impatiently, grabbing the scroll again and tugging at the ribbon. It went loose instantly, and the parchment unrolled itself.

Hermione stared at it in shock. "Harry, do you realize what this means? You're the only one who can open it!"

"That or the fact that maybe it's because you're the Harry Potter," Ron inserted.

"Just read it," Harry rolled his eyes, shoving the paper to Hermione.

She frowned. "But Harry…there's nothing on it…"

"What?" Harry snatched the paper back to him. He looked at Hermione skeptically. "Are you kidding? It's right there in bold letters. 'To whoever reads this'. See?"

"Harry…I…don't see anything," Hermione insisted. "Me neither," countered Ron, and the two of them stared at Harry in a weird way. "Does this mean you're the only one who can open and read this…?"

Harry's brows knit together. "That's rubbish. Can't you guys see anything? C'mon, quit playing. The words are clearer than ever."

"Hang on," Hermione pointed her wand at the parchment again. "Aparecium!"

"Okay, it's definitely not invisible ink," Ron told Harry, staring at the still blank paper. "You are the only one who can read it. Tell us what's written on it, will you? I can tell it's been disturbing you for a while and you better spit it out now."

Harry sighed. "I still don't believe you, but…" He held up the parchment and took a deep breath. "'To whoever reads this: It has come to my attention that my life here at Hogwarts is short-lived. I believe I do not have long before I leave this world forever, and my time is running out. Yet I do not want to depart without leaving any footprints behind, footprints that I feel will come useful to someone when the time is right. Lately, in my old age, I have not been myself. I could feel the sparking of something new inside me from time to time, and at random moments, I feel as though I am a different person completely. I do not remember what happens right after these moments though, and I am sad to say that I do not know what is happening to me. But I do have a clue. I know that something is not right; something inside of me has been dying to be set free from the moment I was born. My self-control had been too strong then, and it could not be set free. But now, in my old age, I am weak, and my defenses aren't as strong as they used to be. It has chosen this moment to surface from within me, and when it does, I lose control. I sometimes do not even comprehend that my peers are calling me. 'Godric, Godric,' they often say, 'what has taken over thee?' And I would—'"

"Godric?" Hermione interrupted. "Godric Gryffindor?"

"I think so," Harry said, clearing his throat. "'And I would not recognize my own name. I will not lie that I am not afraid, for I am. That is why I have written this letter. I know that when this letter is read, I will no longer be around to explain every detail of what has happened to me, but I want you to know that I have chosen you. And if you are reading this letter as we speak, then I know that the time is right. I have been seeing visions lately, visions that I do not wish to narrate, because of the horror of it all. But I can tell you one thing, though. These visions are signs; they are warnings of what is about to come, not in my time, but in yours. It has begun with me, and perhaps it will end with you—if you do make haste. If you are capable of reading this, then I know you are a descendant. You are chosen, and things around you are at stake. The rising that has been trying to escape from the inner recesses of my soul will either soon try to escape in you or in your peers, and I advise you to prepare for it. I do not know if the rising is for good or evil, but you are the one who received this message. You must be strong, for you are—"

"Awww, isn't this sweet? Potter's writing Head Girl Granger here a love letter!" Pansy's voice rang through the whole inn, cutting Harry off. The three of them looked up to see Pansy and her gang of Slytherin girls standing beside their table. "Aren't you going to return the affection, Granger?"

Hermione and Harry kept silent, which made the scene even more delicious to Pansy. "My, my! Speechless?" She raised her mug of Butterbeer to her friends, speaking loudly so that the whole inn would hear. "Let's all have a toast to Granger's newfound love life! Let's hope and pray that this one lasts for more than 5 minutes, shall we?"

The whole inn fell silent this time, not just the people around them, as Pansy giggled with the rest of her friends. Hermione didn't say a word, and she glanced at Malfoy out of the corner of her eye. She noticed that he was watching the scene unfold right before him without any reaction at all, but was gripping his mug more tightly than ever.

"Too quiet? What's happened to your usual, know-it-all motor mouth, Granger? Has Potter sucked up all the remaining strength left in your kissy lips?" Pansy laughed in a high-pitched tone again.

"Shut up, Pansy." Hermione refused to look at her.

"That's all?" Pansy mocked her. "Now I really don't see why they named you Head Girl. Is it because of your new straight hair?" She pointed at Hermione's head.

Hermione bit her lip.

"Well, wig or not, Granger, I still think you're the ugliest creature on earth, and that Potter definitely got blinded when he got that scar," she laughed sickeningly with her cronies, and Hermione saw Malfoy grit his teeth nearby. He obviously didn't find it the least bit funny.

"Oh well, I think we better leave you two lovebirds alone. Shouldn't you be heading back to your rat hole now, Weasley?" And she started walking past them—until she "accidentally" tipped her Butterbeer mug to one side. The side of Hermione's head.

"Ooops, my bad!" she sang out in triumph, as Hermione shrieked and stood up, Butterbeer dripping all over her. The Slytherin girls started laughing hysterically, and Harry immediately stood up to help Hermione. Ron stood up as well and marched towards Pansy, wanting to slap her laughing pug-like face, but all of a sudden she stopped laughing, and so did all of her friends.

Malfoy had gotten up angrily and gripped her wrist painfully, glaring at her. Harry, Ron and Hermione froze, and a deathly silence swept over the whole inn.

"Get your filthy hands off her, slut."

Nearly everyone gasped, and Pansy's eyes started to well up with tears. Hermione couldn't think. All she could do was stare at Malfoy's fuming face, and the livid fire in his eyes that she'd never seen before. Then Pansy burst into tears and ran out of the inn, her friends running after her. Everyone hushed up, and the tension in the room couldn't get any thicker.

Malfoy looked at the direction Pansy disappeared to, and then at Hermione. They stared at each other again, and Hermione never felt more stunned, grateful, and touched in her entire life. All of a sudden she forgot all about her misunderstandings with him, all about Pansy's pranks and flirting, and all about the Butterbeer still dripping from her hair down to her clothes. Looking into his eyes made her realize that he really did care for her, and the way they were softening at her made her want to just disregard everything around her and fall into his arms again…tell him how much she loved him and wanted to be with him…

But then Malfoy looked down and made a quick grab of his coat. He walked past their table, and, muttering to Harry, "Take care of her, Potter", he left the inn as well.

He left everyone, including Harry, staring in extreme shock after him.

***

I had tried to keep busy. I had tried to keep my mind on other things. It was halfway through November and the second Quidditch match was coming up by the end of the month. But I couldn't focus on other things. I gave in. It was out in the open now. I revealed it—but I couldn't say everything. Not just yet.

Whew again! It's been a loooong time!! I missed you guys:D School's been hell and I haven't been getting enough sleep…only like, 1 to 2 hours? Wow hehehe…anyways, you people are awesome! You guys stood by my fic even though I've been an awful updater. Thank you soooooooooo much!! I can't express my gratitude enough. I'll try to live up to your expectations about the NC-17 thing, I really will:D Thank you so much for sticking with me, even though Book Five is already out and my fic's setting is after the Goblet of Fire so the events are kinda different:D Thank you so much!!! (Oh, and yes, I haven't read The Order of the Phoenix yet…I'm taking my time hehehe!)

So, what did you guys think of these chaps? The plot's starting to get a little bit heightening, and our 'mystery narrator' is giving out hints :D Hope you guys will continue reading and reviewing!!! Love ya all!!!!! :D