A/N - Potentially disturbing stuff. Also adult stuff. Kinda. A little bit. Near end.
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Chapter 59
A knock came at the door. Harry tried to ignore it, hoping that whomever it was would take the hint and just go away. They just lay there, lost in the kiss as her tongue caressed his lovingly.
He started slightly, breaking the kiss as a blanket was draped over him.
"Not that I mind looking at you naked, understand..." Ron said with a smirk, "But I thought you might want to cover up your little girlfriend. Besides which, it makes me feel a mite odd, seeing as I'm shagging her son..."
Harry looked over at him sharply as he sat down on the edge of the bed, then flinched at the suddenly movement.
"Head hurt?" Ron asked, holding out a small vial.
Harry quickly rolled over off of Delse, then sat up, careful not to uncover her. He snatched the vial out of Ron's hand. "Feels like the band from Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday party is playing in my head!" He grumbled.
"Thought it might." Ron said with a smirk.
"You know," Delse said, carefully arranging the blanket around her, "Blaise has been a bad influence on you! You're already picking up his barging-in habit!"
Ron grinned, "I did knock."
Harry finished off the small draught and recapped the empty vial, letting out a little sigh of relief as it started to go to work. He grinned at Ron, "You're lucky mate! If you'd have walked in about a minute earlier I would've had to give you a right pasting."
Ron chuckled. "I know. The silencing spell made knocking at the main door useless, but once inside the suite I could tell you were 'otherwise occupied' at the time, so I waited."
Harry gave a snort of amusement as Delse blushed. He reached out, swatting Ron on the arm, "Don't listen to us shagging!"
Ron just grinned. "I don't know what you were doing to her right there towards the end, but whatever it was, you've got to tell me how to do it!"
Harry rolled his eyes, "You don't need me. I'm sure Blaise can teach you plenty." He said, then settled back down, slipping his arms around Delse and cuddling up to her. "Well, thanks for the potion, but I believe we'll be having a bit of a lie-in today." He said with a smirk as he nuzzled up to her.
The mirth slipped away from Ron's face. "Listen... that's why I'm here... there was an article in this morning's Daily Prophet... mum's in a right state... I really think you need to get down there."
Harry sighed deeply, burying his face in the flow of Delse's hair that covered the pillow. "When are they going to get rid of that bloody bumph?" He muttered irritably. He sighed, lifting his head and looking over at Ron. "Honestly, if your mum's in a state I don't think we should be there. I mean she's already sore at me, so it'd probably just make things worse..."
Ron looked almost grim, and was no longer meeting Harry's gaze. "You need to come down. They're in the dining room off the kitchen." He said, rising. He looked down at Harry and sighed, "The article's about you, mate."
Harry's eyes widened, then closed as a groan of irritation emerged from his throat. "What did they say now?" He sighed.
"Just come and see." Ron said simply, then turned and left without another word.
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Harry felt serious trepidation about going to the dining room as requested. He was sure whatever it was, it wasn't good at all, that much was easy to tell... but he couldn't think what that wretched Rita Skeeter could have possibly dredged up on him now. He wasn't even somewhere that she could watch him like a vulture, waiting for any slip or out of context quote on which to base an expansive and highly scathing exposé, which was her usual style of 'investigative reporting'. In the end, it was his curiosity that made him go. That was undoubtedly why Ron had refused to tell him... he knew Harry all too well.
He took a deep breath and gave Delse's hand a squeeze, then pushed open the door. The first thing he saw was Arthur and Molly Weasley standing near the end of the long table. Arthur was holding his wife and stroking her bright copper hair comfortingly while she leaned against him, her face pressed to his chest, obviously crying though she remained silent. Despite the woman's apparent distress, Harry couldn't help but feel a little wave of relief to see her in Arthur's arms once again. That was one upside to this at least. The others were all sitting around silently, no one wanting to make a sound. It was like walking in on a wake.
Arthur spotted them entering, then looked down at his wife, "Molly, dear..." He said softly.
She immediately looked around, her eyes red rimmed and her cheeks splotchy and damp from extended crying. The second her eyes fell on Harry she let out a cry, all but running over and wrapping him in a hug so tight he could hardly breath. She just held him and cried on his shoulder. Harry looked around, hoping someone would clue him in.
"Oh Harry dear!" She cried when she was able to master herself enough to speak. "I'm so sorry... I had no idea... how could I have been so wretched to you? You poor, poor thing! Can you ever forgive me?"
"I... I forgive you!" He said, beside himself on how to handle the distraught woman, "Just... calm down... I'm sure it's not as bad as all that! It's probably a load of lies anyway!"
But Molly wasn't listening to his reassurances. When she finally released him, she moved over and seized Delse, wrapping her in just as tight a hug as she had Harry, starting to apologize to her as well.
Harry had seen enough. He wanted to know what the Hell was going on. He spotted the Daily Prophet laid out on the table and hurried over to it, not giving Molly a chance to latch onto him again. As he looked down at the paper, he blinked in surprise. The headline across the front page read, "Ministry of Magic or Minions of He Who Must Not Be Named?" Below it, the page was divided in half lengthwise, taken up entirely by two lengthy articles. Shockingly, neither article bore the name Rita Skeeter. In fact, they bore no author's name at all. The only picture to be seen was one somewhat small picture of Harry that appeared to have been taken the year before. It made him look young and particularly sad and vulnerable.
The left half of the page was dedicated to what appeared to be evidence of the Ministry's hand in blocking the cure for Blaise's curse. There were no pictures, as apparently they didn't possess stock photos of Blaise (and it wasn't as if they could get onto his grounds to snap off few unless they wanted to get themselves eaten by Merlin knows what!). There was, however, what looked like a copy of an official memo signed by Cornelius Fudge himself commanding the immediate recall of the Erumpent tail supplies from all retailers, as well as interoffice listings of Auror duty schedules which mentioned surveillance of Dumbledore, Snape, the twins, Arthur, and even Molly for signs that they might be attempting to make a cure, with orders to take them into custody immediately if any solid proof was found. There was also what appeared to be a log of Delse's attempts to get a fair hearing on the subject, on the bottom of which was a hand written note from Fudge detailing his orders on what to do should more requests arrive. The orders consisted of various ways to 'lose' the paperwork by shunting it into dead ends. After that, the author wrote a detailed description of the effects of the White Wraith curse on its victims. It described exactly what stage Blaise reached before they were able to cure him as well. It brought haunting memories into his mind of Blaise laying there, little more than a withered husk. The description was quite disturbingly detailed... and accurate.
Well, that explained Molly's change in attitude towards Delse. No matter how she might feel otherwise, she was first and foremost a mother, and there is no way reading about how the Ministry had done them wrong, and what they had been forced to endure wouldn't hit straight home for her. Especially since Blaise had only been afflicted with the curse because he'd been blocking Ron. If he hadn't, her own son would have been the one to be afflicted by that horrific curse. When Harry glanced up, he noticed that Blaise was oddly absent. Pansy was sitting on Ron's lap, the chair beside them empty.
He hesitantly shifted his eyes over to the other side of the page. The side with his picture. He was dying of curiosity, but at the same time had to force himself to look, fearing what it might say. It immediately explained, in no uncertain terms, exactly why Molly had gone to Harry first.
He stared down in shock at a very detailed listing of the testing done on him by the Ministry of Magic. Each entry listed the substance being tested, its properties, the historical basis for it being used to test Harry, and a very detailed description of Harry's reaction to the test. Many were followed by quotes of Fudge's comments as well.
Harry felt sick as he looked down the entries. He flipped the page and stared down numbly as the list continued, filling pages two and three entirely. He noted distractedly that the section on the historical basis for the tests kept getting smaller and smaller, then that category disappeared almost entirely by the bottom of page three. He flipped the page again. Harry looked over the pages incredulously. Page four was completely filled as well, the test descriptions finishing up about quarter way down the fifth page... but what drew his attention immediately was what took up the rest of page five.
Diagrams.
Harry stared down at the general outline of a human male, front and back. The little person was covered with neatly drawn lines indicating incisions, each numbered to correspond with its entry on the previous pages. It was all extremely thorough...
Arthur came to stand beside him, putting his arm across his shoulders comfortingly. "I can't tell you how very sorry I am, Harry. I should never have let them make me leave the room. I would never have thought them capable of such..." He trailed off, shaking his head as he gazed down at the diagram, at a loss for words.
"How did they get ahold of this?" Harry asked, still numb from shock, "I thought the Ministry said the notes were all lost..."
"Yes, well apparently not all... there's also a closing note on the next page..." he said, flipping the newspaper closed.
Page six was mostly taken up by a scathing editorial by Rita Skeeter, attempting to whip the Wizarding community up to get Fudge out of office even sooner than the election (Rather wishful thinking in Harry's opinion). That looked to be the theme of the entire remainder of the paper in fact. The top of page six, however, contained a small, plain note that looked to be penned by the anonymous author of the two articles.
I'm sure the Minister will write a scathing reply to these articles, denouncing
them and finding some way to try to prove they are rubbish, but I assure you they
are nothing but the complete and honest truth. I am not running for Minister of
Magic in the upcoming election, and in fact I doubt that my career in the Ministry
has much chance of continuation at all at this point. That thought would have once
horrified me, but now I see it as inevitable. I don't regret it in the slightest in
fact. Not after seeing what I've seen.
On a personal note, I'd like to apologize to Harry Potter for airing his pain in such
a public forum, but there really was no other way. People must know the truth or
Fudge will never be brought to justice for what he has done. I have my doubts
that it will really happen, even now, but at least I gave it my best shot. My
conscience is clean. You will notice that that wretched Rita Skeeter woman has not
set a single over-polished fingernail on either of these articles. After seeing what
she did with my last comments, I made sure that would never occur again. For my
part in that atrocious article, I once again apologize. Her libelous aspersions about
Harry's character and sanity were wildly unfounded and I encourage him to pursue
legal action, which is now provided for under the Author's Accountability Act. This
time I was sure to obtain a blood oath from the publisher that my articles would
be printed without alteration before handing over the information.
If, or actually I suppose I should say when, something happens to me, I have given
the Daily Prophet permission to publish my name. This is feeble protection at best,
but should the worst occur I want it known why. The highly confidential nature of
this evidence will make the Ministry's list of suspects for the leak a short one at
best. The paperwork on the testing was ordered to be destroyed the moment
Fudge found out about Dumbledore's Administrative Accountability Act. A great
many documents met their quiet end that day, let me tell you. It is by luck alone
that I was able to procure and secret away the contents of these articles, the last
remaining written record of what occurred on that day. I know full well that I
have no real hope of avoiding their wrath much longer. Until then, I will keep my
name to myself, hoping that this meager effort will protect those I love from the
Ministry's retribution. I have done this entirely on my own, without the
permission, or even knowledge of my friends and family, and accept full
responsibility for my actions. I pray the Ministry will take this into consideration
and that their thirst for vengeance will go no further than myself.
Harry closed his eyes, trying hard not to cry. He knew that if he did, Mrs. Weasley would lose it entirely. "I can't believe he did this..." He said with an ache in his voice.
Arthur looked at him, his eyes widening, "You know who wrote this?"
Harry sighed, folding his arms across his chest and hugging himself, "I have a fairly good idea. He was there during the testing... He was the only one who looked upset at all by what they were doing. He hid it well from the others... but I could see it in his eyes... admittedly, I stared at him almost the entire time... I needed something to focus on... I'm sure it didn't help him remain detached... I suspected it was him from the comments in the last article, but this... it has to be him..."
"Who?" Arthur asked softly.
Harry shook his head. "I can't be sure it was him."
Arthur sighed and patted him on the back, seeing he wasn't going to divulge his theory. "Well, whoever it is, I hope he's being very careful. A thing like this could get someone in deep trouble. I've no doubt Fudge will call for him to be thrown into Azkaban straight away. Probably call it treason or some such thing."
"It didn't sound as if Azkaban is what he saw awaiting him." Harry said thoughtfully. He looked around at the others. They were all just watching him silently. Ron shifted Pansy over into an empty seat, then rose, walking over to him.
They stood there looking at eachother in silence for a moment, then Harry looked away, unable to watch the sadness in Ron's eyes. Ron stepped up to him and wrapped him in a gentle hug. Harry sighed, letting his head shift forward to rest against Ron's shoulder, but studiously held back his tears. The tears that seemed to be begging to fall were more of frustration than anything else. After the testing, he had felt he deserved what they'd put him through... now that he had finally started to regain at least a vague sense of self-worth, he had hoped it would all just be swept under the rug. The Ministry wasn't talking about it, and Harry could hardly bring himself to either. Overall, he'd been almost happy when they had said the records had been lost. It had seemed to almost make it as if it had never happened. Still, he knew Fudge should be made to pay... what made it most frustrating was knowing that now everyone would be looking at him differently, pitying him... well pitying him even more anyway... and yet in all likelihood Fudge would still get away scott free.
Harry felt the demon stirring uneasily inside him. It had been oddly subdued ever since he'd apologized to Delse. The whole time he'd been with her, 'making it up to her', the demon had been silent. He had supposed it was just giving him the illusion of having some privacy, but it was very unlike him not to offer 'suggestions'. He'd also been feeling something... but it was vague and unnamable. He knew it was coming from the demon, but what could the demon be feeling so strongly that it bled through, even vaguely, and from what he could tell, without the demon even realizing it? It was almost a relief when he heard its voice once again.
I just wanted to note... Pax whispered in his mind, I only suggested numbers two through six. Amusingly uncomfortable, but overall harmless, and with considerable historical precedence. Not to mention they actually would have worked if I had been in you. Pomfrey was able to get those marks on the first try. I may be sadistic, but even I wouldn't have suggested most of those... well, unless it was on Lucius. Fudge is one sick fuck.
Harry stifled a snort of amusement. Fudge was being called a sick fuck by a demon. Now that was saying something.
After a minute, Ron released him, but he'd barely drawn a breath before Molly had him in her motherly embrace once again. It wasn't that he minded being hugged, but he was a bit too embarrassed at the moment to take much pleasure in it.
"Mrs. Weasley?" Draco said gently, coming to a stop beside them. "Might I have a word with Harry?"
Harry managed to catch sight of him. He was looking at them with a carefully neutral expression. Well, at least he wouldn't have to worry about being hugged senseless if he went with Draco! "I... I should talk to him..." He managed.
Molly released him with great reluctance. He glanced back as he followed Draco out of the room. She gave him a brave little smile, but he was almost certain she'd be back sobbing on her husband's shoulder at any moment.
The door closed behind them and he and Draco were alone in the vast kitchen. Well, except for the many house elves, who were looking at them curiously as they worked, cleaning up the breakfast dishes.
"Toddle off." Draco called over to them, taking a seat, "We'd like to have a private word."
The house elves all quickly set aside their work and scurried for the door.
Harry took a seat at the end of the long counter, looking over at him, trying to discern the reason for Draco's sudden interest in him. Suddenly something occurred to him. "You called me Harry."
Draco snorted and rolled his eyes. "It is your name, isn't it? And with the way she was carrying on she might well have thrown a wobbler if I'd called you Potter. I'm not stupid!"
Harry fell silent. She probably would have. Well at least he wasn't treating him with kid gloves.
Draco looked back at him once he'd assured himself they were completely alone.
"What's this about, then?" Harry asked as Draco looked him over.
"I want to have a word with the demon actually." Draco replied.
"Oh..." Harry said. He got the odd feeling the demon was in trouble.
A smirk slid across Harry's face and he grabbed up a plate, depositing several biscuits from a nearby platter on it and pulling over the jam. "So what's the crack, master?" He asked mirthfully, slathering liberal amounts of blackberry jam on one of the biscuits, "You seem awful hot and bothered about something." He said with a grin, then took a generous bite of the biscuit.
"I heard about last night. You tried disobeying me." Draco said, watching him closely.
Pax gave a little shrug and smirked, taking another bite.
Draco narrowed his eyes, "So it's true then."
Pax swallowed the bite he had in his mouth. "Well it had to have been Mr. Weasley that told you. Blaise and Ron were so pissed they probably don't even remember, and Delse hasn't left my sight since. Surely you didn't think he would just pull your leg, did you?"
"You knew what disobeying would do to you, didn't you?"
Pax sneered at him, "Don't be daft! Of course I did! You think we demons just start out whipped and obey blindly for no reason? Believe you me, that is not something you forget! Haven't tried to resist that hard for a good three hundred years, but I knew full well what was coming. I had hoped I was strong enough to handle it now, but I guess I'm not quite there yet."
"Why would you do that to yourself just for a moment's pleasure?" He demanded angrily.
A little smile crossed Pax's lips. "Some things are worth it." He said softly.
Draco just sat there, watching in silence as Pax consumed another jelly covered biscuit with obvious relish. When Pax was done with that, he poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice and lounged back in his chair, drinking it and eyeing the rest of the food left over from breakfast. After a moment, he sat his glass down and snatched up a pair of tongs, using them to deposit a good dozen pieces of bacon on his plate. Then he picked up a piece, taking a bite. He let out an appreciative sound, quickly devouring the rest of the piece, then snatched up another.
Pax glanced over, noticing Draco's stare. He grinned, holding out the piece of bacon to Draco. "Want some? It's bloody brilliant! Just the right crispness!"
Draco shook his head silently.
"Your loss." Pax chuckled, settling back again and munching on his bacon, looking completely contented.
"You shagged her, didn't you?" Draco said. It wasn't really a question.
Pax's cheeks actually colored slightly, though he grinned at Draco guilelessly. "Quite thoroughly." he admitted openly, barely missing a beat.
"How?"
Pax's smile faltered, then he forced it back into place, "Does it matter? Didn't hear her complaining, now did you?"
"I want to know how you got around my very clearly stated command." Draco insisted.
Pax looked extremely uneasy now. He tossed the rest of the piece of bacon he'd been eating on the plate and grabbed up a towel, wiping his hands. "Don't worry. I don't plan on getting around your other commands." Pax said briskly, carefully not meeting Draco's eyes.
Draco set his jaw. "Tell me, demon. Now."
Pax glared at him, then winced. He drew a ragged breath as the splintery pain of disobedience filled his chest. He slid out of the chair, huddling down beside the counter, glaring up at Draco angrily, his eyes burning and full of pain.
Draco stared down at him, trying hard not to remember what his father had done to this creature already. He forced himself not to waiver in his determination. "I don't want to hurt you, demon." He said softly, "But you have to tell me."
After a drawn out, and obviously very painful minute for Pax, he finally relented. "She started it. I just didn't stop her." He gasped.
Draco watched him suspiciously, "And she knew who you were at the time?"
Pax quickly nodded, still not meeting Draco's eyes.
"Well if that's the whole reason, why are you still in pain?" Draco asked shrewdly, noting the tremors running through him.
Pax let out a pained sound. He'd been hoping Draco would be satisfied with that partial answer and release him. "I told her part of my name..." He finally admitted in a whisper.
"What?" Draco asked, shocked.
"I TOLD HER PART OF MY BLOODY NAME!" Pax growled angrily, then drew a deep breath as the pain finally started to subside.
They sat there in silence for a few minutes, Draco staring at the demon as it glared pointedly away from him.
"You love her." Draco said softly, a hint of wonder in his voice.
Pax's eyes darted up to him and narrowed angrily. "Demons don't love!" He hissed in furious exasperation. "Why do you bloody humans constantly try to assign your own bloody feelings to us? We are completely incapable of such frivolous emotions. The only thing motivating me was lust. Carnal pleasures are one of the few things we understand. We're just beasts! Malicious creatures who's only 'feelings' are anger, hatred and betrayal! From birth til death we bring as much chaos, destruction and pain as we are allowed, and nothing more. We have no redeeming qualities! Anything you think you see in us worth saving is nothing more than a reflection of our master's will."
Draco watched him for a moment before replying. "I don't believe that." He said softly.
Pax narrowed his brightly glowing eyes angrily, "Don't fool yourself into caring for me, master, because despite what I may have said before, I'd kill you in a heartbeat given half a chance. If you ever find a way of killing me without hurting poor, precious Potter, I highly suggest you do it! You'd have to be a complete, blithering IDIOT not to! Because we both know that as long as I'm alive there is an ever growing probability that I'll be in Lucius' control again. When that happens, you'll never forgive yourself for what I'll do." He said, glaring at him with poisonous promise.
They both stared at eachother in silence for a long moment, then they looked over as the door to the kitchen opened.
"Harry!"
"Oh bloody Hell." Pax growled as Hermione ran in. He looked up at Draco. "I'm not sticking around for this shite. Discussion over."
Harry blinked, then looked around, puzzled as to why he was crouched on the floor. He got up just in time to nearly be bowled over as Hermione flung her arms around him. He looked down in surprise, hugging her back. The subtle signs on her face of recently ended crying didn't pass his notice.
When she eased up on him, he looked over, seeing Snape and Dumbledore standing by the door, watching him in solemn silence. He could see Blaise through the open door, making his way over to Pansy and Ron. Well, that explained where he had been. As master of the house, it would have been rude not to meet them and welcome them in.
"I didn't think you were coming until tomorrow!" He said in surprise.
Dumbledore nodded, giving him a little smile, though there was a hint of pain in his gentle eyes. It was obvious not even Dumbledore had been allowed the knowledge of what had been done to him in the room. "Plans change." He said softly.
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Draco walked down the hall, glad they were finally out of the dining room. It hadn't even been him they had been fawning over and he felt the need for escape. It was almost enough to make him feel sorry for Harry. Almost.
He smirked as he watched Dobby hurrying to keep up with Harry. There was a frail looking female house elf that had come with them as well. He recognized her as Winky, Crouch's dismissed house elf. He'd only seen her once, in the top box at the World Quidditch Cup, and she was so gaunt and wasted looking now she was hardly recognizable, but the fact that she was with Dobby and wearing clothing Diamond had most definitely not made gave her away. He certainly hadn't expected Dobby to take him up on the part of the invitation about bringing a guest.
He looked over in surprise as he felt a hand touch his shoulder. Dumbledore was walking beside him. "I was wondering if we might have a word?" He asked softly, making sure the others didn't hear.
Draco nodded, feeling a bit uneasy. The look on Dumbledore's face, though closely guarded, didn't bode well. Draco changed course and stopped at the nearest door. He opened it for Dumbledore, but Dumbledore paused, watching the last few others passing, then reached out and touched Narcissa's arm as she passed. She looked between him and her son, who stood holding the door, and caught on, going into the empty sitting room. When they were all in, Dumbledore turned and cast silencing and impervious spells on the door. Draco felt a coldness growing in the pit of his stomach.
When Dumbledore returned his attention to them, his expression was grave. "The unfortunate circumstances prompting that article were not the only reason for our early arrival. I'm afraid there has been a... development..." He put his hand on Draco's arm as he tensed, his wildly swirling eye widening in alarm. "It has nothing to do with the wedding. If it did, Ginevra and her parents would be here as well... this has to do with..." He took a deep breath and sighed it out, pulling his hand away, "The incident at the farmhouse." He said, dropping his eyes.
Narcissa quickly turned away, hugging herself and looking studiously in the other direction. It was obvious she had also been informed of the incident.
Draco felt his chest tighten. "The father?" He asked immediately.
"No... thankfully it looks as if he has a good chance of pulling through, though the medical procedures to restore him to his former health will be long and tedious. Cullis Tirova has dedicated almost all of his time solely to his care since you sent him over. I truly believe Cullis' dedication is all that has gotten the unfortunate man this far."
Draco swallowed, dropping his eyes. "What is it then?"
Dumbledore took a deep breath and sighed it out again, "The mother. It appears she is with child." Draco looked up sharply. "The child appears to be of Malfoy decent."
"What?" Narcissa asked, turning so fast she nearly overbalanced, clutching the back of a nearby chair in a death grip. "No. No, it can't be! It's not possible! That bastard wears that bloody ring so nothing like this would happen while he's off committing atrocities and molesting children!" She said, sounding near hysterics. Draco tried to take her arm comfortingly, but she jerked it out of his grasp. "No! They've made a mistake." She said as firmly as she could.
"Narcissa, please." Dumbledore said softly. "The tests were conclusive."
"How could they know that?" Narcissa insisted. "They didn't exactly have him around to cast a Lineage spell on, now did they?" She was starting to sound like she was grasping at straws.
"There are other ways, Narcissa." Dumbledore said gently, "He attended Hogwarts. There are certain tests that all students go through upon entry. Records are kept. Samples. His blood was enough. If you still have doubts, you are free to test it yourself. If Lucius is in fact the father, a Lineage spell will show a sibling link between Draco and the child."
"I'm going to have a sibling...?" Draco said softly, still a bit shell shocked.
Dumbledore looked at him, his eyes filled with an intense sorrow. "No, Draco. You're not." He said, dropping his eyes, unable to meet Draco's gaze. He turned, walking over to the window and peering out it. "She wants to abort the child." He said softly, "As the child's closest legal blood relation, she just needs you to sign a document waiving your right to a blood debt for the child's death. Since you are still a minor, your mother's signature will also be necessary."
Draco sat abruptly, his mind in turmoil. He didn't understand the pain that knowledge caused him. The woman had been horribly wronged, and she had the right to get past it in any way necessary... He took a shuddering breath, his eyes oddly blurry. "It's not the baby's fault who its father is!" He said with an ache in his voice. "Why should it have to pay for what that bastard has done?"
"I talked to her myself." Dumbledore said softly as Narcissa went over, sitting beside Draco and wrapping her arms around him. "I tried to persuade her that it was not the solution. I pleaded with her to merely bear the child, and I would see that it had a home... but she is adamant. She's angry and distraught... she believes the child is an affront to her and her family and should die. In all honesty I cannot refute her right to her belief. Her girls... well they appear to be recovering. It's slow, but in time I believe they will be very nearly back to normal without much in the way of permanent damage... but the boy..." He sighed, falling silent for a moment before continuing. "Memory charms don't work on everyone equally... he has great magical potential... or rather he did... his own natural defenses are preventing the charms from being fully effective, and there is no way around them. It is obvious he retains most, if not all of the memories. He hasn't spoken a word since the incident. He spends most of his time curled up at his mother's side... the healers have tried everything. They admitted to me that it is almost certain that he will end up spending the rest of his days in the trauma ward. He's only eight..." he said with a slight catch in his voice.
Draco leaned forward, burying his face in his hands. After a moment, he took a deep, shuddering breath. "Is there nothing we can do to save the baby?" He asked softly without lifting his head.
Dumbledore sighed deeply. "You can try talking to the mother yourself if you wish. Her husband has just started a new treatment, which should run until Christmas day. She has requested the papers be signed so she can have the procedure done then. He should wake within a day or two after that, and she wants the child gone and her memory wiped before that happens. She says she can't face him while carrying the child of the man responsible for that tragic event."
Draco stood abruptly, "Let's go then." he said, his resolve firming.
Dumbledore turned back to him, his eyes looking very watery. He walked up to him and placed his hand on his shoulder. "I will take you on Christmas. In the afternoon after the festivities. She is unlikely to be receptive to your request before her husband is out of danger. I'm truly sorry this news comes at such an inopportune time. With the articles about Blaise and Harry, I have no doubt Fudge will try to find any way within his power to distract the members of the wizarding community. When he was at Hogwarts, he took all of our records. It was he who provided the samples for identification, so he is well aware of who the father is. If this doesn't make a late edition of the Daily Prophet, it will almost certainly make tomorrow's edition. I couldn't let you find out that way, especially since I have no idea how much truth will get into the article. I hope you will not let it ruin your wedding. You have the right to enjoy your union with Ginevra without the cloud of your father's misdeeds hanging over your head. What he has done to others is truly grievous, but I believe that over the years he has wronged you far more than any other. Don't let him steal the joy from your heart on the eve of the day you have waited so very long for."
Draco dropped his eyes, giving him a little nod. His eyes just wouldn't seem to clear, no matter how much he blinked. How many lives was his father going to ruin? And now it would cost yet another completely innocent life. The life of his first sibling. It may only be the bastard of his deranged father, but it was his little sister or brother as well, and he wasn't about to see his blood being murdered without doing everything in his power to stop it. How many times had he wished he had sisters and brothers? The moment news of the child had left Dumbledore's lips, his heart had latched onto the idea of no longer being an only child... of no longer being alone. In seconds he had become inexplicably attached to the tiny life that grew inside the belly of a woman he'd never even met... and in a few days that life would be extinguished without regard or mercy.
Dumbledore reached for him again, but he backed away, then turned and walked across the room, staring down into the fire that had sprung to life in the fireplace when they entered the room. "I... need some time alone." He said softly.
He stared intently at the flames as silence reigned for a few moments, then he heard them going to the door and leaving. The door closed behind them. He just stood there, trying valiantly to gather his emotions and store them neatly away, just as he'd always done before. He'd been finding it harder and harder of late. He idly wondered if he was simply running out of room in which to store them.
He started slightly, his eyes darting over as he heard something behind him. Snape was standing there, watching him, a great sadness filling his dark eyes.
Draco quickly looked back into the fireplace. "Get out. I said I wanted to be alone."
"No." Snape said softly, "I don't think I will."
Draco spun around angrily, giving Snape a hard shove in the chest. "GET OUT!" he shouted, half blinded by unshed tears. Before he could even blink them away, he found arms around him, holding him gently but firmly. He struggled to free himself, but the fight quickly died out of him.
"It's not much, but it's all I have to offer." Snape said with a little smile as he held him.
Draco just couldn't seem to stop the tears as they spilled over. He found himself holding on to Snape, sobbing on his shoulder like a child. They remained that way for several long minutes before Draco was able to get himself back under control. He sighed, pressing his forehead against Snape's now damp shoulder, wondering if this was what it was like to have a father who really cared for him. Snape may be sarcastic and emotionally reserved, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that Snape had shown him far more paternal warmth than his own father ever had. What he would have given to have Snape as a father instead. "Don't suppose you shagged my mum?" He said in a half hopeful voice, a little smirk working onto his lips.
Snape just chuckled softly.
> > > > > > > > > > >
"Ow!" Blaise said, his hand jerking in Snape's grasp.
Snape rolled his eyes. "Stop being such a baby, Zabini. It's just a small cut. Besides, you're the one who was so insistent."
"There's got to be a better way than dicing people up!"
Snape just shook his head, carefully collecting several drops of blood in a vial, then casting a healing spell on the cut. "There. Now stop whining." He said, taking the vial over to where he'd set up his little portable testing kit on the table.
Blaise stayed perched on the counter, watching him intently.
After a few moments of adding carefully measured ingredients, Snape capped the vial, then shook it vigorously. When he stopped, the contents swirled, then turned a brilliant shade of purple. He held up a little color chart beside it, carefully matching the color, then sighed, setting them back down on the table. "I don't understand it." He said in exasperation.
"Understand what?" Blaise asked immediately, hopping down and crossing to the table, snatching up the chart and the vial, comparing them. He matched the color, but the entry beside it was just a number that was meaningless to him. "What does forty five hundred mean?"
Snape rubbed the bridge of him nose tiredly, "It indicates the concentrating of Re'em blood in your body."
Blaise set down the vial and chart, looking over at him pensively, "What was it before?"
"Forty seven hundred."
Blaise looked from him to the vial and back again. "What's the safe level?" He asked anxiously.
Snape took a deep breath and sighed it out. "Fifty."
Blaise stood there, staring at him, completely dumbfounded. "But... but you said a week..." He said when he found his voice.
Snape sighed again. "I'm sorry Blaise. Your body should be purging it from your system, but it simply doesn't seem to be. At least not nearly at the rate it should be. I've never known it to stay in someone's system in this concentration for this long."
"But... I'm starting to feel tired! I am!" He said desperately.
"Your mind requires rest, even if your body doesn't. It is overcoming the initial rush of strength and should shortly be restoring your normal sleep patterns. I'm afraid tiredness doesn't mean it's going away."
Blaise started pacing, looking desperate and aggravated at the same time. "How do I get it out? How do I get rid of this bloody rubbish?"
"Who knows? It may continue to decrease at this rate, in which case it may well be a good several months or so... or you may eventually start maintaining a level, whatever level that is. It's entirely possible that you may simply have to get used to it."
Blaise spun on heels staring at Snape incredulously. "Like Hell! You said I can't be with Pansy until this shite was out of me!" he said, his voice rising angrily.
"Well I'm sorry if this puts a dent in your sex life, but there is..."
"My sex life?" Blaise asked, looking a bit insulted at the implication he was just concerned about himself. He strode up to Snape, "I can shag Ron all I like. My sexual gratification is not what's at stake here. Your daughter's is!"
Snape looked away uncomfortably.
"I love her, Snape." Blaise said softly.
Snape sighed. "I know. I've known that for a good long while now. Any fool could see it when the two of you were together."
"She's not happy, Snape. I can't please the woman I love." he said achingly, "I can't live with that. I can't handle seeing that disappointment and longing in her eyes anymore. If there is no chance that I will be able to please her... I'm going to have to let her find someone who can... even if it kills me." He said, his voice breaking as tears started slipping down his cheeks.
Snape looked up at him sharply. One look in the boy's eyes told him he was being completely serious. He sighed, packing away his kit. "Let's not do anything rash. Some of us will be visiting St. Mungo's on Christmas. We'll take you with us and see if there's anything the healers there can do or suggest." He looked up as he clicked the case closed. "Will that suffice?"
Blaise sighed sadly, hugging himself. At length he gave a little nod. Snape just watched in silence as he walked slowly away.
> > > > > > > > > > >
The atmosphere for the remainder of that day was full of excitement and happiness over the upcoming nuptials, but at the same time subdued in the wake of the newspaper articles. Both Blaise and Harry seemed less than pleased at the extra attention the paper was getting them, and the others seemed to pick up on that quickly. Even Molly. By the time lunch rolled around there was a kind of unspoken agreement not to discuss it further.
Molly's demeanor towards Harry and Delse remained considerably better at least. With a bit of coaxing, the twins had even been able to convince Kulia to attend dinner with the family. Far from the hostility she appeared to expect, Molly made a special point of doting on her. Kulia didn't seem to know quite how to deal with that. At least with the help of Molly's tea and several soothing potions, she looked to be feeling almost normal again.
Dobby had been given the cold shoulder by most of his relatives initially, but after Draco gave them an angry glare, they warmed to Dobby a bit. They did seem rather confused by their master's attitude, considering Dobby had betrayed the family and been disgracefully freed, but they weren't about to cross him. Despite being technically guests, Dobby and Winky had insisted on eating in the kitchen with the other house elves during meals.
As Dinner began to break up, they moved to the sitting room again. The conversation was kept studiously light. After no more than ten minutes, Blaise patted Ron's leg. "I'm heading to the room." He said, keeping his voice low so he wouldn't interrupt Charlie's story.
Pansy sat up from where she'd been lounging on Ron's lap. Blaise quickly held out his hand to keep her from rising. "You two stay. Really. I'll see you later." He said, getting up and heading out.
Pansy looked at Ron, but he just shrugged, just as confused as she was. Pansy sighed, then settled back down, nestling up to him again as Charlie's story drew them back in.
They all hung around for about another hour before they came to the general consensus that it was time for bed.
As the house elves hurried in, eager to led their charges to their rooms, Delse went over to to where Snape and Hermione were standing. "You two will be in the Viridian suite. One of my elves will show you the way."
Snape's eyes widened and darted over to where Molly stood, just a few paces away. She saw the furtive glance and smiled grimly, walking over. "'Fraid the twins let the kneazle out of the bag the other day." She said, folding her arms over her chest.
Snape dropped his eyes looked decidedly uncomfortable, obviously bracing himself for a classic Molly Weasley outburst. Hermione turned beet red, glancing worriedly between them.
Molly took a deep breath and sighed it out. "Hurt her, and you'll have me to answer to! Hear?" She said firmly, then turned, making her way over to where an elf was waiting to take her and her husband back to their suite.
"Well now, that was relatively painless." Delse said with a smirk as Snape and Hermione stared at Molly's retreating back incredulously.
> > > > > > > > > > >
"What do you think is up with Blaise?" Ron asked worriedly as he and Pansy followed their guide back towards the room.
Pansy sighed, "I don't know. He's been withdrawn all day. It's just not like him."
"I think maybe we should talk to him..." Ron said a bit reluctantly. Blaise had a tendency to slip into his shell when confronted, so he didn't want to make him feel like they were ganging up on him, but there was definitely something troubling him.
They fell silent as they reached the room. They made their way straight into the bedroom. Blaise rarely used the other rooms. Ron came to a sudden stop as his eyes fell on the bed. Pansy let out a worried squeak as she spotted Blaise. He was sprawled out on the side of the bed wearing only a towel. She hurried over, checking on him, then gave a little relieved laugh. "He's asleep." She said quietly, brushing his damp hair away from his face.
Ron came over and smiled, feeling greatly relieved. "He must have just been getting tired today." He said, keeping his voice low to keep from waking him. "Gotta admit, I'm feeling a mite tired myself."
Pansy beamed. "About time I got my bedmates back!" She said, getting up and quickly doffing her clothes, pulling on her favorite little silk nighty.
Ron grinned, stripping down to the silk boxers Blaise had bought him. He went over, carefully removing the damp towel and pulling the covers out from under Blaise. He covered him up as Pansy crawled up from the other side, flopping down and snuggling up to Blaise with a contented sigh. Ron circled around and flicked his wand at the nearest torch, making the lights dim, then crawled into bed with them, cuddling up behind Pansy.
> > > > > > > > > > >
He was surrounded by blissful warmth. A throbbing, pulsing pleasure filled him as hungry lips kissed his. Soft warm skin pressed against him, filling his senses. Soft moans filled his mind as the pleasure intensified and sharpened.
Reality started invading his mind in a rush as pain shot through his back. Suddenly it crashed in on him as a voice cried out practically in his ear.
He jerked his head up, opening his eyes and trying to blink away the blurriness and sleep that clouded them. It was dark, and he was gasping slightly.
"Don't stop!" A voice panted pleadingly in his ear.
He shook his head, trying to clear it. The hot flesh beneath him undulated, thrusting up against him. Realization dawned abruptly.
Blaise scrambled up, feeling himself slipping out of her. He scrubbed his eyes, trying to make sense of what was happening. She was laying there, blinking groggily and looking around to see where he'd gone. Even in the dim light of the fireplace he could see a slight red mark on her hip where her knickers had resisted, but the strap had been snapped, the remains of her knickers hanging uselessly by their remaining strap on her opposite thigh.
She let out a piteous sound, reaching for him, but he jerked back out of her reach, then scrambled off the bed and ran from the room.
> > > > > > > > > > >
Blaise wasn't hard to find. Ron spotted him the moment he walked out into the Common Room. He was curled up on the hearth rug, still quite naked. Ron blinked in surprise, coming to a stop when he was close enough to see all of him. There was a house elf kneeling near his head, stroking his hair and murmuring to him softly, its squeaky voice as soothing as it could manage. Blaise barely seemed to notice it, staring intently into the fire, fresh tears still trailing down from his eyes.
Ron came over, sitting down behind him. "Blaise?" He asked softly.
Blaise curled in on himself, burying his face in his arms. "Go away." he muttered miserably.
Ron sighed, "Come on, Blaise. She's fine. It was an accident. She says it happens all the time when you two sleep together..."
"But it never used to be dangerous!" Blaise said, his voice aching and muffled. "I could have hurt her! I could have hurt the babies!"
"You didn't. She's fine. All three of them are." Ron said soothingly, stroking his hand down Blaise's back, carefully avoiding the scratches Pansy had left.
"We don't know that! What if that wasn't the first time tonight? She could have Re'em essence seeping into her as we speak!" He said, dropping his arms down to hug himself.
"It was the first time. You didn't finish in her if that's what you're worried about."
"How do you know?" Blaise asked in exasperation.
Ron blushed, "Um... just trust me..."
Blaise glanced up at him questioningly.
Ron sighed, his blush deepening. "Well you kind of left her in the lurch there... so I... um..." He cleared his throat, glancing uneasily at the house elf.
Blaise followed his gaze, then looked back at him, "What?"
Ron blushed brightly. "Um... don't you think you should... um... put something on?"
Blaise snorted, then lay his head back down, staring back into the fire. "Vincent diapered me. It's nothing he hasn't seen before." He said distractedly.
The small house elf gave Ron a bashful grin.
"Diapered you?" Ron asked, surprised, "Didn't your mum do that?"
Blaise gave a snort of amusement. "Father insisted it was unseemly for a woman of her social standing to take too much personal interest in the 'courser aspects' of child rearing. Vincent diapered me, fed me, bathed me, clothed me, watched over me when I was sick, later helped patch me up after father and I had our little rows... he pretty much raised me, just like Dobby did for Draco. Course I never ended up blaming Vincent for things he couldn't control like Draco did. I've always known there's no excuse for my father."
Ron's eyes went wide. "Dobby was Draco's? I thought he was Lucius' servant...?"
"Only after Draco got mad and gave him the boot just before second year. He never would tell me what that was about, but I suspect it had to do with something his father did to him. That's where most of his issues come from. At least seeing Draco's life always made me feel a little better about having to deal with my father. He was a wretched, evil, abusive bastard... but at least he wasn't Lucius..." he said with a faint smirk.
Ron shivered. It was chilly, despite the fire crackling away in the fireplace. "Come back to bed, Blaise. We can talk about this in there. I don't want you to catch your death."
Blaise sighed and shook his head. "I'm not going back to bed with you, Ron. Not until it's safe. If I ever did anything to hurt the babies, intentional or not, I'd never forgive myself."
Ron sighed deeply, "Blaise..."
"No." Blaise said softly before he could finish his argument. "Don't leave Pansy in there all alone. Go to bed, Ron. I'll see you in the morning."
Ron stared down at him in silence. He couldn't stand seeing that aching sadness in his eyes, but he could think of nothing to say that would make a difference. He couldn't deny that it would pose some threat to Pansy and the babies, and he knew by the slight tenseness in Blaise that he was ready to argue it if necessary. Blaise could be quite immovable if he wanted to be. At length he decided to just let it be for now.
Ron leaned down and kissed Blaise's cheek, then rose, giving Vincent a little nod and returned to the bedroom. Pansy was curled up on the bed, already fast asleep once again. He returned to his place at her side, spooning up behind her and laying there thinking, unable to recapture the tiredness that had let him sleep before.
They would definitely have to talk to Snape in the morning to see when Blaise would be back to normal. Ron had been feeling his own strength waning quite quickly in the last couple of days, and truth be told, he had nodded off briefly a couple of times the night before while Blaise was reading. Of course Blaise hadn't shagged him since the night before they left Hogwarts, so he wasn't sure if Blaise had stopped exuding the essence yet.
He lay there for a long time, just thinking over Blaise's problem, what tomorrow would bring, and life in general. Eventually he found himself in that somewhat dazed place between waking and sleep. He kept gazing around the dimly lit room, but his eyes seemed to droop lower and lower with each blink.
He watched, still half dozing, as Blaise walked back into the room. He was dimly aware of him standing beside the bed, staring down at them, and thinking he must be returning to bed...
... Ron blinked his eyes open. He looked around, wondering how long he had dozed. He looked on the other side of Pansy, but that side of the bed remained empty. He sat up, careful not to wake her, and looked around, ruffling his fingers through his hair. No Blaise. He blinked, trying to recall. He was sure he remembered him coming back into the room. He thought hard and found a vague, disjointed memory of seeing Blaise walking away, but not towards the door.
He looked over, trying to remember. He looked over in the direction he had gone, but there was nothing but the small closet door there. He squinted and made out a very dim light coming from under the door. He blinked in surprise. Did he keep it lit all the time? Surely he'd been asleep far too long for Blaise to still be picking out his clothing for tomorrow.
He slipped out of the bed, his curiosity drawing him on. He crossed to the closet door, then turned the knob as quietly as possible. It made a sharp clicking noise and he flinched, quickly glancing back, but Pansy barely even stirred. He turned his attention back to the door, pulling it open a crack and peering in. It was a closet, alright... and what a closet! There were rows of clothing hanging all along each wall, and another clothes rack running down the middle of the room. There was also a multi-tiered shoe rack under the row of shirts with at least forty pairs of shoes. He opened the door wider, looking it over in awe. The whole thing was lit by small, hovering spheres of bluish light scattered around.
Ron's curiosity drew him in. He closed the door behind him and wandered in further. It was like a very well stocked clothing store, the only difference being all of these clothes were in Blaise's size. There was just so very much to look at. Banks of ties and belts, robes of every color and cut imaginable, a thin chest of drawers (which one drawer that had been left ajar revealed to contain his skivvies and the like), and even some odd hats and boxes of who knew what sitting up on top of the shelves above the clothing racks. Not only were the clothes impressive, the walls were also stunning. Every inch of exposed wall was covered in amazingly intricate bas-relief images of dragons, castles and all manner of magical creatures and objects.
Ron moved to the back of the closet to peer at the only large open stretch of wall that wasn't above his head. He reached out and touched the snarling image of a dragon. He could swear he could feel each tiny scale carved individually on it's back. He started to turn back around to start heading back for the door, but paused. There was a small section of clothing that looked completely out of place. He reached out, pushing the clothes apart so he could see them better. He stared in shock at the completely muggle t-shirt. He slipped that shirt out of the way... the next was much the same, depicting what looked to be a muggle band. He flipped to the next one and clapped his hand over his mouth, stifling a laugh. It was a black t-shirt with bold writing across the front that read 'Just wink... I'll do the rest'. He kept snickering softly as he leafed through the others. In total, there was roughly a dozen muggle shirts. After that there were several pairs of what appeared to be plain muggle blue-jeans. He leafed through them. The last pair was faded and looked rather worn. He smirked, flipping it around to look at the back, trying to imagine Blaise wearing them. He got half a stock just thinking about it. He smirked. He would definitely have to talk Blaise into wearing them sometime!
He was about to push the pants back when he saw the carving on the wall behind it. It was a truly impressive male unicorn standing on the edge of a cliff, looking almost as if it was staring back at him defiantly. He reached out, stroking his fingers over it.
He started slightly as part of the wall popped open. For a split second, he thought he'd somehow broken something, but then he noticed the clean edges. He reached over, cautiously pulling on the slightly ajar panel. It came open easily, obviously on well oiled hinges. He peeked in, then blinked in surprise. There was a small room hidden behind the wall. He was even more surprised when he spotted Blaise. He was sprawled out on a pile of cushions on the floor, apparently sound asleep.
Ron stepped into the little room. The moment he crossed the threshold he jumped, startled as sound suddenly blared around him. It sounded like some kind of instrument wailing and someone who was obviously very angry practically shrieking somewhat to a beat. He looked at Blaise, but he slept on, completely oblivious. After a second, he realized he had crossed through the barrier of a silencing spell. He looked around, spotting a small device that appeared to be the source of the... noise. It was obviously an attempt at some kind of music, but it was so abrupt and raw sounding he wasn't sure it qualified.
He stared down at Blaise incredulously. How could he possibly sleep through this? It was so loud he could practically feel it! He looked around a bit more. The walls and ceiling were covered with posters and apparently randomly dispersed shelves holding all manner of crystals. There were enormous points that looked to be almost too big to put his hands around and still be able to touch his fingertips together, all the way down to clusters of minuscule crystals that seemed to glitter even in the pale light. The floor was covered in quilts and blankets with several very impressive crystal specimens in the corners. It was even smaller than Ron's room at the burrow, but the crystals made it impressive none the less. Other than those, there wasn't much more than the pile of cushions Blaise was laying on, the strange device with small glowing lights on it perched on an ancient looking heavy wooden trunk, and the two large black rectangular objects that were attached to it by cords and seemed to be the noisy part of it. Several of the floating spheres lit this space as well, but these flickered in a way that made the light appeared to come from a candle or small torch, setting off dancing reflections in the crystals.
He looked down at Blaise again. He looked so peaceful laying there. He quickly decided that it was best to just leave him here to sleep. As tempting as it was to cuddle down in those cushions with him, he couldn't imagine actually sleeping with all the shrieking going on... and besides, what would Pansy think if she woke up completely alone? He went over, picking up an extra blanket and draped it over him. Blaise snuggled down in it a bit, but didn't wake.
Ron went back to the door, then gave him one last look. He couldn't help but smirk at the irony of it. Blaise was the very last person Ron would have expected to be 'in the closet'...
> > > > > > > > > > >
A/N - My real life tends to color my work, so you may have guessed this already, but my life's just slightly fucked up right now. As a result I'm going to have to ask people to cut out the demands. I truly appreciate hearing that you like this, and what you liked about it especially, and that kind of thing, but I'm a bit of an emotional rollercoaster right now, so please don't be making a whole bunch of requests and picking nits and such. I know where this is going, and will get there when and how I get there. Far from motivating me, constant requests to update and quibbles about tiny errors and meaningless shite like that turn into nagging, and sometimes it makes me say 'fuck it' and put it off even longer. You'll get updates when I'm bloody well done with them and not a moment sooner. Don't mean to be bitchy, but I'm trying to stay sane here. Push me and I might just let Lucius out to play. You've been warned.
(Can anyone tell I'm not in the greatest mood?)
Before you all ask, yes, couples that sleep together at night can have sex while asleep. They often wake up during, but not necessarily. I hear it is a not uncommon cause of pregnancies with couples that sleep together but use one-time forms of birth control (contraceptives, foam, etc.) And for those of you wondering, I did not make up that shirt logo myself. I saw it the other day and couldn't help but picture Blaise wearing it. It was just too him! Oh, and so no one asks (cause it annoys me to no end when they do when I feel it's obvious) 'in the closet' is a slang term referring to concealing one's homosexuality.
Bigreader - bare feet don't make a lot of noise on stone floors, and his head was directly under the water. I don't know about you, but I can't hear jack when my head's under the shower. Not to mention if he had heard her, she wouldn't have startled him, now would she? Oh, and you can say her name. If anybody actually reads these things other than me, I'll wager they read the chapter first, so you won't be giving anything away talking about what is already written. Besides, I'd like to know for sure exactly what bit you're talking about. They were in the bathroom several times in that chapter. I assume I guessed the correct instance?
inky -It can. I was consulting an online Latin dictionary, not being able to speak Latin myself, but feeling that his name should be in Latin. One entry I saw for Pax listed "a slave's name" as one of the possible definitions. That is what Delse was referring to. It could have been referring to a derivative of the word Pax though. I swear, even the parts of the dictionaries that are supposed to be in english need some kind of translation code! I have a full name picked out, but if some of you people who actually Latin would like to make suggestions (keeping Pax as part of it of course) I'd be willing to consider them, provided they are suggested in email! Please provide a translation of the suggestions as well... I don't want to have to attempt to fathom those dictionaries again!
Kurayami - Aw... now I feel guilty for killing a tree ;) Seriously, how many ink cartridges did it take to print this thing? On my editor it's over 450 pages, and that's single spaced, only half inch border all around, size 12 font (I have my screen set for high res, so smaller is illegible) without any author's notes!
Narwing835 - CHILL! See A/N above. And no, I'm NOT putting off the wedding. It is on exactly the same day as I first planned it. I can't control how long it takes to get there. (starts planning 'Play Time with Lucius' just in case)
Ophelia -No, kneazle blood acts nothing like giant blood. Giants absorb magic like sponges without being effected by it. Kind of a magical ground. Being in a giant would kill a demon by draining off its power until it ceased to be. Kneazle blood gives Crookshanks just enough magic to let it survive possession, and his cat blood makes him non-magical enough to play host. And just how exactly is that other story 'shockingly similar'? Cause if it really that similar, I wanna know when they started publishing, because I never read that, never even set cyber-foot on that site in fact, and this shit is way too bizarre to be 'shockingly similar' to without it raising some questions in mind.