Chapter Notes: I've left my biggest author notes at the end…And I think all I have to say about this chapter is that it's longer than most. Yeah. Don't mind me, I'm in sorts about this story at the moment…
Dreading Draco
Apparently, my sleep was a little too restful, since when the shrill alarm went off, I promptly turned it off, rolled over and went back to sleep. I didn't wake until an hour or so later, when I heard frantic knocking at the door.
"Raven! Raven wake up! You're going to be late for class!" I heard Jesse call through the door.
I forced my bleary eyes open, and rolled over slightly in my bed. I was about to croak out an answer, when I heard Blaise's voice as well.
"Raven? It's Blaise. I brought you a muffin and a bit of toast…can we come in?"
I opened my mouth to speak a reply, but all that came out was a feeble croak. My throat was almost sorer than it had been last night, and my mouth was dry. Coughing a little, I cleared a little phlegm from my throat and tried again.
"Yeah. C-come in." And then I flopped back onto my side. I was just too tired to move. I heard the door creak open and the shuffling of cloth and shoes as the two boys entered the room.
"Raven?" Blaise asked. "Are you ok? You're not sick again, are you?" He moved around the bed to the side I was facing, crouching down in front of me, a worried look on his face.
I scrunched up my eyes and nose at him and whispered, "Maybe. I feel like shite. My throat really hurts." I opened my eyes again to see his frown deepen.
"Maybe you should just stay in bed then. Do you want to go see Madam Pomfrey?"
I shook my head no, as my eyes drifted shut again. I felt him pat me on the head a little and he said, "Okay. Do you need anything else? Jesse will get your homework for you, won't you, Jesse?"
I heard an immediate affirmative at the foot of my bed. "Absolutely. Anything for Raven."
I opened my eyes a crack and whispered, "Could I have some water before you go?"
Blaise smiled. "Sure." He looked over to the other boy. "Jesse?"
"I'll be back in a minute." And then I heard him leave.
"I'll leave the muffin and toast right here on your bedside table. In case you get hungry later." And I watched as he placed the breakfast foods on the wooden table next to my head.
"Thank you, Blaise. You're really too nice to me."
He smirked. "Well, someone's gotta be." And he looked away, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, 'because we all know that prat Draco isn't.'
Jesse walked in the next second and finally came into my field of view. I suppose I've never described him before, so let me do so now. Jesse's a rather scrawny boy, still in his pre-teen awkwardness before puberty kicks in. He has a cute mop of curly dark hair atop his head and bright hazel eyes, which underneath lay a rather charming smattering of freckles. Of course, in my sleep-muddled mind, I didn't notice this so much as I did the cool-looking glass of water he held in his hand. He handed it to Blaise, saying,
"I couldn't find a glass, so I had an older student transfigure one of my quills."
"Thanks, Jesse," Blaise said, taking the glass and turning to me. "Would you like some now?"
I nodded, and shifted to sit up a bit, Blaise helping me with his free arm. He held the glass to my lips, tilting it slightly, and I sipped it a little, allowing the refreshing liquid to drench my parched mouth and throat. A little dribbled down my chin, and Blaise pulled away, chuckling slightly as he used the back of his finger to clean it up.
I smiled wanly. "Thanks, Blaise," I said, my voice already sounding stronger. "I really needed that."
"No problem. I'll come check back on you at lunch, how does that sound?"
"I'll come too," Jesse piped up.
I looked between the two boys, and a strange thought occurred to me: I could probably tell why Blaise was here; he'd shown more than a mild interest in me, so Harry was probably right in that respect. But what about Jesse? He seemed almost…too eager to help. But I dismissed the thought quickly, making a mental note to think about it later, when I was more cognitive.
In answer to their question, I nodded and said, "That sounds great." They both smiled, and left me to rest some more, and as soon as the door clicked shut behind them, I was off to Slumberland once again.
The next time I woke it was because someone was shaking my shoulder and calling my name.
"Miss Harrell, wake up!" Professor Snape said harshly.
I blinked my eyes open, feeling rather lethargic, but definitely more awake than I had been earlier. "Professor?" I peered up at my head of house, who was standing over me with a sour look on his face.
"Miss Harrell, care to explain why you were not at breakfast, nor at your morning potions class?"
I winced at the man's unsympathetic tones. "I…er…I wasn't feeling well Professor. I'm sorry." I started to sit up, and I as I did so, Snape took the chair from my desk and sat down in it, letting out a slow breath.
"Does this have something to do with Mr. Potter, Raven?"
Startled by the question, I frowned. "Mr. Potter…? You mean, Harry Potter, sir?"
"That would be the only Potter alive and at this school, Miss Harrell."
I blanched. "N-no Professor. I'm not sure why I feel so tired."
The dark-haired man studied me for a moment. "Do you still feel tired?" He finally asked.
I thought for a moment and shook my head. "No, not really, sir."
"Good. I fully expect you to go to your afternoon classes, Miss Harrell. If you have…anymore problems," he let the last word hang for a moment, "Please come see me." And then he stood and left my room, shutting the door behind him.
Flopping back onto my bed, I took a deep breath before sitting up again and easing out of bed. Stretching languidly, I revelled in easing the tension in my muscles. Opening my bedside table drawer, I took out my brush and started working through my long hair. I was amazed at how long it seemed to have grown over the course of the summer—it was now almost to my butt. Setting the brush down, I grabbed the toast Blaise brought me, and scarfed it down, suddenly becoming ravenous with hunger. Knowing that it would be a while longer before I could go up to lunch, I decided to go to my trunk at the end of my bed and grab a towel, my bathrobe, and a fresh pair of undergarments; I was in desperate need of a shower.
The heated water added to the relaxation of my muscles, and I sighed a little before getting down to washing. After realising that I used almost half a bottle of Sleekeasy's Hair Cleansing Potion to wash my hair once, I thought that keeping my hair long probably wasn't an option any longer. I couldn't buy a new bottle of shampoo every other day, after all. Maybe I should cut it… I mused, rinsing out my hair and moving on to conditioning it.
In the shower, it was almost easy to forget that I had nearly been strangled to death the night before. It seemed surreal somehow, like a terribly frightening dream that seemed way to real to be just a dream. Although in my case, it really was real.
After my shower, I dried off, put on my undergarments, then the white fluffy bathrobe, and quickly made my way to my room, seeing as the floor was colder than should have been possible, in my opinion. Once inside, I checked my clock and realised that I had spent quite a bit of time in the shower—lunch had just started. I brushed my long hair again, took off my bathrobe and flung it on the bed, bending over my trunk to get fresh robes for the day. Going back over to the bed, I laid everything out, and then grabbed my white blouse; turning to look in the full-length mirror Pansy had gotten for me last Christmas.
I was just frowning at the bruises on my upper arms, which were still apparent from the struggle between Harry and Draco, when the door opened, and I saw a reflection of Blaise's face appeared in the opening—looking straight at me. "Raven? How are you-" At that moment, a few things happened.
I shrieked, he yelled, I whirled around—trying to cover myself up with my shirt—and he slammed the door on his own face. I heard a rather loud yell, and then a nice string of thirteen-year-old explicatives.
My blood was pumping wildly, adrenaline coursing through, and I swallowed hard, scared frozen, with my shirt half-covering my torso.
"Oh my god, I am so sorry Raven," I heard through the door, after a minute. "I didn't mean to…I thought you'd still be in bed…"
Taking a calming breath, I said, "I-it's ok, Blaise. Um…I'll just be a minute."
I quickly donned my school robes and tried to run my fingers through my hair. My stomach was a nervous wreck of knots when I opened the door a minute later, to find Jesse and Blaise against the opposite wall. Jesse had an imploring hand on Blaise's shoulder, asking him what was wrong, and Blaise was leaning against the wall, his hands over his face, mumbling something incoherent behind his hands.
"Blaise?" I asked, very nervous and jittery. My stomach was protesting from lack of food, and was not taking the anxiety very well.
Blaise's spiky-haired head shot up from behind his hands, and Jesse looked between us with a rather puzzled look on his boyish face.
Blaise blushed profusely and pressed himself against the wall, apologies tumbling from his lips like water. He was trying desperately not to look at me, but the obvious sincerity was making it difficult. "Raven, I am so sorry. I really didn't mean to, honest. I-"
"Blaise." I interrupted. "It's alright. Really. You…definitely scared me, and to be honest, I'm tremendously embarrassed, but I know you didn't mean to."
A look of relief washed over Blaise's face and he averted his gaze, blushing madly.
"I take it Blaise accidentally saw you in your knickers?" Jesse snickered, looking at my wet hair and rumpled robes.
"Shut up," Blaise said petulantly, glaring at the younger Slytherin. "So are you coming to classes this afternoon?" he asked me, still not able to look me in the eye.
"No," I replied, smiling tiredly. "I'm going to lunch. I'm starved. Then I'm going to class."
Jesse and Blaise chuckled, and waited for me out in the common room while I went back into my room, brushed my hair again, and grabbed my bag. Thankfully, I tend to stay more on top of my homework than most others, and I didn't have to worry about handing in anything late, except for my morning classes.
Getting out of the dungeons was easy enough, but when I got to the Great Hall, I saw a silvery-blond head flashing in the sunlight filtering in from the windows, and a great pit of dread swallowed my stomach full, and suddenly I wasn't hungry anymore. The events of last night suddenly weren't surreal anymore, and I started shaking in fear. Gratefully, Blaise steered me away from Draco, and his arm on mine was slightly comforting, but I could still feel Draco's eyes on me, along with another pair.
Harry's.
I tried to ignore them both, for I knew that Draco wanted to talk to me, and that pit of dread was only growing wider at the thought. And Harry…Harry was probably worried out of his mind, especially when I didn't show up for breakfast, and here lunch was, half-over, and I still didn't feel like I was there. I just stared at my plate of sandwiches and crisps, and it looked so unappetizing that I nearly threw up the one piece of toast I had that morning all over my plate.
Blaise asked me what was wrong a few times, and Jesse made it a point to mention that I had said I was starving, yet hadn't touched a thing on my plate.
Quite unexpectedly, even to me, I snarled, "Stop it! I don't need to two to baby-sit me! I can bloody well take care of myself!" Our housemates around us fell silent for a second, and I got up and stalked out of the Hall, making my way quickly to the girl's lavatory, where I promptly threw up my "breakfast."
"Something's wrong," Harry said to no one in particular, as he sat there at Gryffindor table. "And it's Malfoy's fault, I know it."
Hermione looked puzzled for a minute. "What're talking about, Harry?"
Harry's gaze lingered at the newly exited hall doors, before sweeping over to a pale head and back down to his own plate. "Nothing," he said dejectedly, a hint of barely controlled malice lacing his words.
Hermione raised an eyebrow, and made a mental note of it.
Ron didn't notice a thing.
"Didja say somefing about Malfoy, 'arry?" the Weasley said, his cheeks packed full of food like a hamster. Harry shook his head and went back to eating, so as to have a reason not to talk.
"Ron Weasley, honestly, that's gross. Please swallow before you talk." Hermione admonished.
And Ron just rolled his eyes.
The dread that had consumed me at lunch continued to plague me throughout the rest of the day, rising up when I saw Draco or Harry between classes or during dinner, where I still couldn't bring myself to actually put food in my mouth.
The dread was a strange thing. It flowed between a ridiculously strong desire to not get anywhere near Draco or Harry, and a swirling string of thoughts about last night: what could have happened, and what it all really meant for me in Slytherin House, which was beyond maddening.
I couldn't really describe how I was feeling; I just wanted to be left alone. I didn't want to talk to anyone, I did want to eat anything, and all I wanted was for the world to stop noticing me. So I could just disappear and never be missed. If no one noticed me or missed me, than maybe Draco wouldn't either, and then he's leave me alone. It was a strangely comforting thought, not being missed. Although some corner of my mind was exclaiming at how irrational I was thinking; I ignored it completely. I had no other room in my thoughts other than, 'everyone, stay the hell away from me.'
But I couldn't avoid everyone forever. And finally, just before curfew, it caught up with me.
I was in the library, dazedly finishing off that essay that had been cut short by Draco's request the previous night, when a rather large shadow blocked out my reading light.
Without looking up, I said, "Whoever you are, go away."
"What did he do to you?" the quiet voice asked.
My head immediately snapped up at the voice and I hissed, "Harry, get away from me." I darted a look around the vicinity. "It's too dangerous. Too risky. If he finds us…"
"What did he do to you?" the Gryffindor asked again, his voice much more urgent, and lowering in severity. His dark green eyes were focused on me, but it seemed that he was seeing something else.
"Nothing! He didn't do anything! I'm fine! I just want to be left alone!" The dread that had been following me around all day was churning, forming into anger and fear.
As soon as my exclamation left my lips, Madam Pince immediately rounded the corner. "If you two can't be quiet, you will have to leave. In fact, it's almost curfew, and you should be on your way. Now."
I glared over at Harry, and started gathering my things, quickly making my way out of the library. I could hear Harry following close behind. Once we were in the corridor I spun around and said, "Don't you dare follow me to my common room, Harry Potter. I told you to leave me alone. Please see that you do."
Harry's mouth opened in confused shock. "Raven, I don't understand. Has he put some type of spell on you? Why are you acting this way? Why are you mad at me?"
"I'm not." And I turned to walk away, but he grabbed my arm.
"I'm not stupid, Raven. Something's wrong. I can tell." He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "We're secret best friends…won't you please tell me what's wrong?"
I glared at him and wrenched my arm out of his grasp. "No. Now go away and leave me alone." I turned and started walking away.
"If he ever lays a hand on you again, I'll kill him." It was spoken so softly, I almost didn't catch it over the clunk of my shoes on the marble floor. But I still managed to pick up the vehemence behind the words.
I paused for a moment before turning back around and regarding Harry with resignation. The pain I was starting to feel was overwhelming, and I just wanted to stop fearing, stop worrying, and stop feeling. "I know," I said tonelessly. "But things are worse now than they were. I'd rather just do what he wants than upset him anymore. I'm tired of always watching my back."
"What exactly are you saying?" And he took a half step in my direction.
Tears sprung up in my eyes as I looked at Harry's face, a face that while not looking all that much like mine, still made it feel like I was looking at the male version of my self. Blinking away the tears, I managed to get out, "We can't be friends anymore, Harry. I'm sorry." Before I could start crying, I turned around and dashed off.
I ran blindly into the common room, ignoring protests and cries from anyone around me or anyone I shoved out of my way to get to my room. Locking the door securely behind me, I threw my bag across the room, where it hit the stone wall with a thunk, immediately falling to the floor. I threw myself onto my bed and cried. I have no idea how long I lay there, tears leaking out from behind my clenched eyelids, screams and sobs hurting my still-sore throat.
After my tears finally abated, and my breathing slowed, I rolled over onto my back, kicking off my shoes and gazing up at the canopy of my bed, although I really saw nothing. I felt…empty. It was a strange feeling, but not unwelcome. I felt calmer now, but still the dread gnawed at me. And other than the dread, I felt nothing. That's why I say I felt so empty. Devoid of all emotion, yet the dread pricked little flashes of losing my only true friend, of fearing for my life, of being completely alone in this big, empty castle.
I kept telling everyone to leave me alone, but yet I knew, in a very deep part of my mind that what I was really doing was crying out for help. But I really did not realise this for some time. It was as if all of me was suddenly dead, or at least dormant, and I saw no way out. I couldn't. There was no rationality to my thinking. One might think that I should have gone to Snape, or Dumbledore, or at the very least, Harry. Any one of them would have helped me. But I didn't want their help. In the long run, it would only make it worse. I can't explain it, even now, after so many years. But I was lost in a sea of nothingness and dread; a depression so deep, that I really didn't believe there was any way out, if there was such a thing.
And I remained that way for the rest of term.
Harry was fighting a battle that had him torn in two.
One, very clear, distinct part of him was screaming at him to tell Dumbledore, or to confront Malfoy…something—anything—to help Raven out. Talk to Hermione and Ron. They should know.
But the other part kept shooting him down, despite his rage and sorrow at the situation. What proof did he have? Snape didn't believe him, and for just the glimmer of a second, when he had been standing in the empty corridor, he almost didn't believe himself. But he knew what he had felt the night before, he knew that he had found Raven on the floor, he knew that he had seen the bruises forming on her neck.
He also noticed the lack of them the next day, when Raven had finally showed herself.
He had been beyond livid when he saw Malfoy saunter into the Great Hall for breakfast, and only the complexity of the situation kept him seated at his own table. And then when Raven never showed up…panic took over for rage, and he sat through his morning classes in a fidgety state, not paying any attention to a thing his professors were telling him.
His morning classes were actually a blessing, keeping him from doing anything rash as he again weighed his options. Should he tell Ron and Hermione at least? But what could they do? They'd probably be mad that he had kept his and Raven's friendship a secret, and they had even less proof than he that Malfoy had done anything to Raven.
No, the only person who Harry could confront was Malfoy.
But again, that was a problem. How could Harry confront Malfoy without giving Raven away? Just lie and say that he had seen her on his way back to Gryffindor Tower? No, Malfoy would see straight through that. Harry would have no reason to be in the dungeons that close to curfew. It would only raise more questions, questions to which Harry would have no answers, for they would all be lies anyway, and Harry knew any lies he created wouldn't hold.
So he was back to square one.
Finally, after seeing Raven at lunch, Harry decided to confront Raven herself, to make sure she was alright, and that Malfoy hadn't forced her to do anything she didn't want to do.
Needless to say, it didn't go as planned. She only hissed and shoved him away, which hurt Harry greatly, yet at the same time fury ripped through him as he blamed Malfoy for the whole situation. What did he do to her?
And then she flat out rebuked their friendship. And Harry didn't know how to deal with that. He could tell it hurt her, but at the same time, he puzzled over what had become of the girl he befriended. She was never this hateful and angry.
Again, the question rang out through his mind: What did he do to her? It was obvious, at least to him, that Malfoy had tried to strangle Raven…but why? What could she have done to warrant something as brutal as that? Harry kept feeling like something else was going on.
Harry was at a loss. He stared up at the canopy of his bed, swirling thoughts of Raven and Malfoy and the threat of Sirius Black racing through his mind and producing nothing.
For the next few weeks, I lived in a never-ending state devoid of emotion and controlled by the pit of dread.
Whenever someone came near me, and I could sense that they wanted to ask what was wrong, I either ignored them the snarled at them. I was not a nice person to be around. I vaguely noticed the worried looks around me, and because I was being such a horrible person, I never did get my homework from Jesse. Not that he didn't try, I just didn't care.
I didn't care when everyone realised that all they could do to keep the peace was ignore me, I didn't care when I heard that Sirius Black had tried to get into Gryffindor Tower and kill Harry, and then we all had to sleep in the Great Hall…I didn't care about any of it. I hardly slept—reoccurring nightmares of the night I nearly died kept replaying over and over, keeping me more terrified of Draco than I think I even realised; I hardly ate—come morning the pit of dread would swallow me whole again and I felt as though anything I ate would be tasteless and would do nothing to make any of it better, so why bother?
I'm not sure when I stopped caring so much. I've always tried to be a good student, and make my teachers and my mother proud. But this state of mind I had suddenly plunged into prevented me from giving a damn about anything. My grades were slipping, and it wasn't until Snape made me stay behind one day did I care to acknowledge it.
"Miss Harrell, would you care to explain your sudden lack of attention and finished homework in my class?" He started off in his usual hardened drawl as the rest of the class filed out.
I shrugged in response.
Snape's nostrils flared, and I could tell that he was about to lose his temper, and possibly take more points from Slytherin than he already had in the past few weeks (which was hardly any; and all of which were because of me).
I didn't care.
The last student left and the door closed loudly behind whoever it was. My head of house sighed heavily and sent me a stern look. "Raven, it is not only I, but your other professors and even classmates that have been questioning your recent behaviour. Is there anything you wish to talk about?"
I stared at him for a moment, with a rather bored expression on my face, although I felt nothing. "No, sir."
Snape stood and walked around his desk, coming up to me and placing a heavy hand on my shoulder. Bending down to look me in the eye, he said gravely, "Raven, I do not normally get involved with the affairs of my students, but I feel that there is something severely amiss regarding you, and perhaps a few others. I am not here to judge you. I am your Head of House, and as such, I am here to mentor you, help you and also discipline you. But I cannot possibly do any of that if I don't know what is going on."
I responded dispassionately, on the verge of anger. "I need no one's help, Professor."
He raised an eyebrow at me. "I disagree, Raven. You have been acting strangely for a fortnight. And as I've said before, I am not the only one who's noticed it. I will be writing to your mother this evening, and until I hear back from her, I want you to think carefully about what is going on." He lifted my chin and looked me directly in the eye. "In Slytherin House you'll find your true friends, Raven. And they are worried for you. Think about that." He let go of me a whirled around to his desk, obviously dismissing me.
I turned around and slowly walked to my next class, Herbology, which I shared with the Gryffindors. I managed to get there just before Professor Sprout, not that I would have cared otherwise, and trudged over to stand next to Jesse, who had a worried frown on his face which I ignored.
After Professor Sprout set us to work on weeding the less-dangerous plants, such as muddle-pods and a few of the potted herbs that supplied the school kitchens, I suddenly found a bright head of red hair in my peripheral vision. Ginny. Great.
Under the din of everyone else working, Ginny nudged me and said in tone that tried to sound light but didn't, "Are you doing alright, Raven? Slytherin treating you well?"
I rolled my eyes at the stupidity of her question. "I don't know," I bit back, pulling at the weeds much more forcefully than necessary. "Why don't you ask everyone else? They seem to know how I'm feeling better than I do." I thought back to my recent conversation with Snape.
Jesse must have heard my muttering, because he suddenly looked at Ginny and sneered loudly. "Gryffindor, why don't you go back to the poor side of the greenhouse? Your stench is killing my muddle-pod."
Donnie, Jack and Ashley snickered from his other side, and Jack moved around Donnie and Jesse to shove Ginny away and stand on my left side. "Go back where you came from, muggle-lover," he hissed, and Ginny's petite face scrunched up in a hard frown, her eyes flickering softly over my blank face before turning away and moving down the table, closer to the other Gryffindors.
Jack turned his tawny head back to me and slung a quick arm around my shoulder before going back to his weeding. "Don't let those stupid lions get to you, Raven. We'll protect yeh." His hazel eyes sparkled in mischief, and his smile made me stop and actually notice the four boys around me. It was almost as if I never really noticed them before.
They were like this little gang of followers, yet still individuals. They either ignored me or clung around me like personal bodyguards, yet either way they made fun of me and teased me like I was an honorary boy. But if anybody ever got in my way, there one or all of them were, making sure whoever it was knew not to do it again. They almost treated me like a princess or queen. But really, they were little mischief-makers, although they never got me involved, to which I was grateful.
There was Jack, a light brown-haired, hazel-eyed bloke, who was smart and ruthless, and a little bigger than the other boys our age, although nowhere near as massive as Crabbe and Goyle.
Ashley was a blond and loud, his brown eyes a stark contrast to the rest of his pale features. He was a bit smaller, and I think he was loud and obnoxious to make up for it, but he was growing quickly.
Donnie was dark-haired, dark-eyed, and was generally more broody than anything else. He was usually quiet, but sometimes he would joke around with the rest of them, although I think he was more a voice a reason than anything else. I think having a sister who was eight or nine years your senior did that to you. I also think he knew more about this school and ways to get around the rules than he let on. Another side effect of having an older sibling that went to Hogwarts.
And then there was Jesse. He was bright, funny, and smart—very smart. He knew the strangest things too. Really, he was too smart for his own good, and he came up with the craziest plans of them all. But the funny thing was, they worked. Flawlessly. Even at twelve, the boy was a genius. But he was helpless around girls. He looked confident on the outside, but really, he was a nervous wreck. Of course, I didn't notice all that until much later, when I started caring again.
And together, all four of them, huddled in their own little boy world, were satisfied that their pranks would pay off some day, and taking me on as their something to justify any caring that might be seen by the world outside of Slytherin House.
But they did care about me, I saw in Jack's eyes that day, which might be hard to accept, seeing as we resided in the house known not to give a damn about anyone but themselves.
Slytherin House.
The complexity underneath the sneering and ruthless façade.
Is this what Snape was talking about?
A/N: I just want to let you all know that I'm not sure when the next chapter will be out. I've been thinking and thinking about this story, and to be honest, I'm feeling that I need to take a break. Not from writing it, no…more of a re-organisational break. I've definitely lost touch with how I feel this story is supposed to feel, and I think that I need to take time to re-organise it all in my head and write it down. There are certain things planned, but there are lots of things that aren't, and I feel that those things are holding me back from making this story as good as it can be. So, if there are any updates to this story in the near future, it will be to previous chapters. I feel as though there isn't as much depth in the previous chapters as I'd like. In other words, all that's written is Raven's interaction with the canon characters, and not those in her own class and/or other things going on. I feel as though I rushed through things a bit quickly. So—I'm planning on adding a few scenes in, and fleshing out the story. But I may just leave it how it is, although I do feel that it needs some major work to be up to par with my other writing.
Again, I am sorry about this, but I really feel that it needs to be done. I hope you understand.
I love you all, and I'll try to work through it all quickly, although with the end of term coming up in the next two weeks, I'll be awfully busy. If I do write a new chapter, I will put it up immediately.
Review Responses:
Blinded One: I'm sorry I've confused you even more. Maybe I should just tell you… :S Thank you for reviewing, I really enjoy your enthusiasm.
SmileyFace3: lol. Harry's still not sure how to act about Draco. He's definitely having problems decided which course of action would be best (which is kind of against his jump-in-head-first instincts, I know), but not only does he need to worry about making sure Raven's okay, but he's also worrying about Sirius Black as well. But he'd like nothing more than to get his hands around Draco's neck himself… And I must say, that as a reviewer, you've given me some wonderful ideas for this story…now all I need to do is fit them in when I start re-organising it… Thank you again for reviewing!
Thank you all, and please review!
