Title: The Art and Practice of Absolute Pitch

Author: Gold-Snitcher

Chapter Four: The Politics of Breathing

The leather feels soft under his fingers as he sinks his nails into it. He's certain he's punctured it but it doesn't matter.

Not much does.

Just the sound of squealing tires and the acrid scent of burning rubber that masks the smell of blood is chokes the confined space. His ears fill with her shout as she braces herself – he watches her profile as she turns and, for the first time he can recall, curses under her breath.

His head is aching but he doesn't know why -- doesn't realize he's knocked it hard against the glass and he's got a concussion and he's bleeding, and also that he's left a smudge of blood across the window. He doesn't notice any of it because at that moment he's clutching a hand tight in his while his other hand gropes for some purchase on anything, something more stable than he is because he's sliding about in the seat.

And then there's a rush of cold air and the feel of nails clawing at the skin of his right hand and he only just processes that he's lost his grip on his brother's hand before the breath is knocked out of him and there's a sharp pain in his head that dulls to an ache as the world grays for a moment.

He squints, because his glasses are gone, broken somewhere, likely some of the pieces are now lodged in his skin, and he can make out a bright flickering light, and he feels hot – and tired, so very tired and his head hurts and there's something sticky that's making it hard to keep his eyes open, and he suddenly decides there's no point in fighting it.

He rests his head against the shards of glass and the rough road, too tired to move, to even breathe, the air is too thick with the acrid tang of smoke for breath anyway.

And then his world goes black.

Harry's eyes flash open and it takes him a moment to catch his breath, and when he does he blinks up in confusion at his lover, who's braced above him and looking at him with concern.

"What are you doing?" he asks, quietly, because the room is dark and he's not certain if he's awake.

"You had a nightmare," Draco answers. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Harry says. Besides his rapid breaths that are calming now that his eyes have opened, and the cold sweat Harry has no recollection of any night horrors. "I'm fine," he says again, as if repetition will make it so.

Draco sighs and shifts down to lie beside his lover once more, and Harry creeps into his arms, which tighten around him. "Do you want to talk about it?" Draco asks in a quiet whisper, and Harry simply tucks his head under his lover's chin and shakes it just slightly. Draco sighs but does not push. "Can you go back to sleep?" Draco asks instead, Harry smiles to himself and wonders if Draco knows that his hands have move to tangle in his hair. Harry doesn't mention it; he finds it soothing when Draco plays with his hair.

"Of course," Harry answers. "I don't remember what I dreamed." Draco places a kiss on his forehead and Harry closes his eyes.

……………………..

Draco didn't fall back to sleep.

He knew that their recent accident had affected Harry. He knew the instant they were discharged from the hospital and Harry hesitated on the front steps, looking with trepidation at the street where Draco was already heading to hail a cab. Draco had tactfully suggested that they take the Underground, claiming that waiting for a taxi would take too long.

Harry had been quiet, more so than usual, but Draco had dismissed this, knowing that the car accident, however minor, was bound to stir memories in his lover of a much more severe accident that had happened years ago when Harry was still at school, which claimed the lives of his family and left him relatively unscathed, save for that pale jagged scar on his forehead. Still, Draco thought that Harry could work it through, if given time.

Time had come when a very understanding Finbar had promised to rework the rerecording schedule to give Harry a bit of a break. It had been three days since the accident, and Harry had yet to venture anywhere near a car, and he still suffered nightmares.

Draco wasn't a fool. He knew three days was hardly going to be enough time for Harry to get over the reawakened memories of that trauma, but it was the fact that Harry seemed so completely oblivious to it, that Harry had made absolutely no progress at all, not even in acknowledging that the crash had brought bad memories to the fore.

Draco shifted, bracing his back against the headboard and pulling Harry up to rest more comfortably on his chest. Draco didn't plan on returning to sleep at all; he had too much to think on.

…………………………..

"It's not anything like that," Hermione said as she dished out more green beans onto Harry's plate. He had only just managed to divert her from her fussing over him about the accident and Draco was being no help whatsoever, snickering as the young woman's antics.

"Then what, pray tell, is the inconsiderate lout's problem?" Draco asked.

"Draco," Harry scolded, giving him a swift kick under the table.

"He wants kids. It's not an irrational thing, really. We've been married for a while so of course he'd want them. It's just I'm not ready for them." Hermione had been found at eleven o'clock knocking furiously at their apartment door. She had come bearing gifts in the form of various dishes she had cooked. Harry had done his best to sooth her nerves, downplaying the accident -- which really hadn't been that bad -- while Draco had only encouraged his friend to fuss, especially over Harry. Still, it was clear that Hermione was also being driven by a need to escape her work and find human contact, someone compassionate to her own problem. Harry was only too happy to take advantage of something, anything, to distract her from her fussing.

"I think –" Harry started, but was cut-off when the phone rang, and he rolled his eyes and rose to answer it, leaving Draco and Hermione and his dinner reluctantly.

"What happened to you?" Draco asked as soon as Harry had left to answer the phone.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked, sounding mildly affronted.

"I mean, the Hermione I knew in high school wouldn't be driving herself crazy over something like this!" Draco hissed, trying to keep quiet so that Harry didn't return.

"Draco, I don't know what your problem is, but this is a big thing!" Hermione snapped back, also trying to keep her tones quiet. Peacemaker that he was, Harry would never stand for them fighting, but sometimes a fight was exactly what was needed.

"I understand that. Babies are a big issue," Draco said, rolling his eyes to show what he thought of the subject matter. "But really, you've changed! You're sitting here, fretting and whining and bitching over something that you can't help!"

"People change, Draco!" Hermione snarled. "And I'm not bitching. I'm sorry if I'm going through a tough time and made the mistake of thinking I could talk to you."

"Don't give me that bullshit," Draco shot back. "You know exactly what I mean. I'm saying that you've done what you can, now it's Ron's problem. You've already spoken to me, and to Harry, but you refuse to let it go! You keep bringing it up! What happened to the Hermione who would have realized that she'd already done exactly what had to be done, and that it was only a matter of time before her goddamn husband snapped back to his senses! This isn't right, Hermione, this isn't like you! I've not had a proper conversation with you in ages and I really need my friend right now!"

Hermione sat back in her chair and glared, but could not bring herself, in light of Draco's admission, to snap something back at her friend. The truth was part of her anger at the whole thing was directed at herself, it wasn't that she was feeling selfish for wanting to put her career before her family, or at least, the family her husband wanted to start, it was because this entire issue had escalated out of proportion. Hermione knew at one time she could have done exactly what Draco was saying, which was keep a level head and look at the entire thing logically. Somehow, though, Hermione had lost that bit of herself. How could she explain that there was just so much pressure to 'settle down' and 'start a family'. Whenever Ron's parents invited them to dinner the topic was always brought up. How do you explain to a woman who happily bore seven children that you really had no desire to 'settle down', that you were really happy with your work and your husband and couldn't imagine adding a little baby to look after and support.

Added to this, Hermione wondered if, when and if she felt like having a baby, she could explain to her husband that she had no intention of being a happy 'stay at home' mum. It had always grated on her, the implied expectation that having a baby went hand-in-hand with 'quitting your job and changing your priorities'. Hermione could never be happy confined to the house, cleaning it and cooking and doing laundry. That wasn't to say that there was something wrong with mothers who happily did this, it just really wasn't for her. But all of that was something else entirely because the point was Hermione just really wasn't ready to have a baby and was more than a little fed-up with all the pestering. Just once she'd like to sit down for dinner with her parents and her husband's parents and her husband, and not be nagged about having a baby and having to tolerate the look Ron always gave her that only she ever saw, that sort of said 'well, when are we?'.

"God, Draco, I'm sorry," she huffed, tangling her hands into her hair and bracing her elbows on the table. "It's just driving me crazy. Everything was so wonderful and settled and then slowly it's been escalating and now the entire problem is just driving me mad and you're absolutely right. Give me a moment." She said it all pretty much in one breath and then promptly closed her eyes, but experience told her that Draco would have leaned back in his chair, quirked and eyebrow and be smirking. Ordinarily she would want to hit him, but at that moment she was preoccupied.

"Okay," she said after a moment, letting out a breath, opening her eyes and sitting up at the table. "It's out of my head. Now how are things for you, really?" she asked. She watched as Draco turned thoughtful and then, just as he was about to open his mouth, Harry reentered the kitchen.

"I'm back," Harry said. "Sorry." He went to counter and poured a cup of coffee. Hermione noted this with a small frown and kept an eye on Draco. Harry didn't often drink coffee, except for his morning cup.

"Who was it?" Draco asked.

"Hm?" Harry asked, distractedly. "Oh. Just Finn, nothing important. Look, I'm going out for a bit, but I'll be back before you're in bed, I promise." Harry flashed a grin, downed the rest of his coffee, kissed Hermione's forehead briefly, kissed Draco on the lips with enthusiasm and was then out of the kitchen and out of the loft before Draco could ask him where he was going.

"What was that about?" Hermione asked in confusion.

"I haven't a clue. He's been acting oddly since the accident. It's been hard on him."

"But I thought you said it wasn't serious!" Hermione cried, instantly feeling worried for her two friends.

"It wasn't. Not at all. But it brought things up for him. It isn't, after all, the first car accident he's been in." Hermione bit her lip as she recalled when Harry had felt close enough to confide about his parent's and his brother's deaths. She knew it trouble him, but she had never given it much thought. It had happened so long ago that Hermione didn't think on it often.

"That's horrible. How is he managing?" she asked.

"Not as well as he would have me believe," Draco admitted with a heavy sigh.

………………….

The restaurant was busy, but somehow the noise wasn't distracting as they sat at their table in the corner and ate dinner. In truth, it was more a pub than a restaurant, Sirius had chosen it because it was comfortable and the food was always good. It never occurred to him that it wasn't exactly a romantic spot for a first date. And all of that made the entire thing even more disconcerting, because not a single aspect of the entire thing required thought. It had just seemed bloody natural, from the phone conversation in which Sirius ended-up inviting Remus out for a bite, to picking the other man up at his home to selecting the pub. It seemed as if he'd done it a hundred times before.

It wasn't the first date Sirius had been on, not by far. He'd been very popular in school, and that hadn't much changed when he had left it. Still, despite his confidence and easy-going nature, nothing had ever before required such little effort on his part, except, maybe, being with Harry. But he and his nephew had always had a strange understanding of each other. Sirius never thought to have that same understanding with someone else not related to him – a practical stranger, no less.

Conversation between them was remarkably easy, and enjoyable and when Sirius finally realized the time, three hours had sped by just sitting at the pub, eating dinner and talking.

"I never did get that autograph you promised me," Remus said with a smile as Sirius drove back in the direction of Remus' apartment.

"You're absolutely right!" Sirius gasped. He pulled to the curb in front of Remus' place and made a show of pulling out a pen and, when paper proved illusive in his car, a napkin and signing.

Remus accepted the napkin with a rakish grin and then, glancing at it, laughed. "I must be very special indeed. Not only an autograph, but personal information as well?" Remus teased.

Sirius stuck his tongue in his cheek and grinned for a moment before schooling his features into a serious expression. "Yes. Very special," he said, then quickly jerked Remus into a surprise kiss.

Sirius kept it brief, in case he had moved too fast and had spooked the other man, but as he moved to pull away, Remus wound an arm around the back of his head and pulled him close once more.

……………………

The phone was ringing and Harry was still in the shower, which meant that Draco had to cease his practice and answer it. The brief conversation that ensued startled him, and when Harry came out of the bathroom, dressed only in his jeans, and toweling his hair dry, he was confronted by Draco, who looked angry, concerned and surprisingly lost.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, immediately dropping the towel and taking a step towards his lover.

"I got a call," Draco said, and Harry stopped at the tone. "From a car dealership," Draco continued. "They said they had an estimate on how much you could get for the truck." There was a moment of silence and Draco, arms crossed, quirked an eyebrow. "I didn't know we were selling the truck.

"I decided to," Harry said with forced casualness.

"Why?" Draco pressed.

"It's silly to have it," Harry shrugged. "We're never both in need of the car at once."

"That's bullshit, Harry, and you know it. It's one thing to be afraid of cars and things, I can understand that. But to lie to me? To go behind my back like this and try to push away the problem instead of dealing with it outright? Harry that isn't like you, and frankly I'm concerned."

"That isn't what's going on!" Harry snapped, his face flushing and eyes crackling with anger. He was defensive, and that in itself proved to Draco that it was exactly what was going on. "You don't understand," Harry insisted.

"I don't understand? I understand that you have nightmares about the accident and that those old feelings you thought you'd dealt with are resurfacing with a vengeance."

"You don't understand!" Harry yelled, and the helpless fury in it jolted Draco. "You don't understand any of it, so stop saying that you do!" And then Harry turned on his heal, snatched the shirt he'd left out on the bed and was out of the bedroom and out of the loft, door slamming behind him.

"Shit," Draco breathed from where he stood in the bedroom, frozen with shock.

…………………………..

Ginny found him at the pub a block from the loft. It wasn't much of a surprise to her, the pub was small and welcoming, Harry had stumbled upon it with Blaise while Draco and Harry had been in the process of moving into the loft. It was a long process, considering they were repainting some of the rooms, and their busy schedules made it impossible to co-ordinate time to move-in together. Blaise and Harry had been working on setting up the guest room and had gone out in search of lunch. It hadn't taken long before Harry and Draco and the others became acknowledged as familiar faces in the little pub.

"You didn't make it very far," she commented as she slipped onto the stool beside her friend who was already nursing a beer. Her comment was rewarded with a flippant shrug. "You're serious tonight," she tried, gesturing to the beer. Harry wasn't much of a drinker, and when he did drink it was usually coolers or rum and coke, despite the teasing he got from his friends.

"I'm fine," Harry answered, and Ginny nodded, waving for the bartender's attention and indicating that she'd have what Harry was having. "You're serious tonight," he shot back with a smirk.

"Yeah, well. You're not the only one with troubles."

"Apparently not," Harry said. He finished his pint and the bartender dutifully went to refill it after depositing Ginny's drink in front of her.

"Ugh," she winced as she sipped at her pint. "This tastes like shit."

Harry laughed and shook his head. His smile soon turned to a frown and he flashed her a sidelong glance, grimacing slightly. "So you were sent after me to provide, what, therapy?" he asked.

"Hey, I told you, you aren't the only one with problems. I'm well within my rights to wash the grief away with liquor." He managed a more sincere smile and shifted an arm to pat her back, a gesture that she returned.

For a while they just sat there, comfortable sip their drinks and think things over. Finally Ginny took a breath and shifted to face him more directly. "I know things have been a bit crazy for you," she said, trying to touch on the topic while also attempting to avoid it. "I can understand that you've been thrown for a loop and you're just trying to get a handle on things and come to terms with stuff. And you know, Harry, that's okay. In fact, that's wonderful because once you get it all sorted out, then that's it, you'll have resolved it and it will sit better with you. I know it will probably always hurt, but it doesn't have to feel like a fresh wound all the time, right?" She waited, to allow her words to sink in. "The thing that I don't understand is pushing Draco away. He's just trying to help, and you're going to need someone to hold you steady while you deal with this. I'm just worried, that if you push him away then you won't have someone to keep you steady. You can avoid everyone else to damn well," she chided with a grin. "You distract us and hide from us and divert us far too easily. Right now, at least, even Ron can't be trusted to stay focused on your issues and not his own. But Draco can, he's always been there for you, just like you've been there for him, and it isn't fair to brush him off because you should damn well know by now, Harry, that whatever affects one also affects the other."

There was silence again and she knew that Harry was thinking over her words. Finally Harry turned to look at her and flashed a real smile, though it was a small one, and then he quirked his head to the side and looked at her seriously.

"So what are your problems, then?" Harry asked, sipping the drink that was placed before him.

"You haven't had enough of playing therapist for everyone yet?" When he merely looked back at her, she rolled her eyes. "You're call," she shrugged. "It's just … it's all shit, you know?"

Harry snorted and then let out a short barking laugh. "Seems a bit pessimistic." When Ginny didn't say anymore he shrugged. "At the very least, it's a very broad statement."

"Everyone always said that this romance and relationship stuff is bullshit." Harry frowned at her and she shrugged. "Neville asked me to marry him." She was waiting for him to smile and congratulate her like her friends had when she'd attempted to talk to them, but Harry was smarter than that. "I turned him down," she explained, and once again Harry didn't seem at all surprised. "You're not going to lecture me about it? How he was a great catch and was perfect for me. And we could have been happy together?"

"Should I?" Harry asked.

Ginny shrugged. "It's what my mum did when I told her. It's what my friends did, too."

"How do you feel about it?"

"I don't know. Like I said, this relationship stuff is bullshit. It just seems … like a waste of time. Like a waste of breath."

"Are you talking about Neville specifically, or relationships in general?"

"I dunno … Well, relationships in general." She shrugged, wondering where her bitterness had suddenly come from. "It's like, I see couples, you know, and they seem happy and everything is fine, but then you find out that one is fucking around, or that the other is so stupid that they sacrifice everything, every damn thing for their partner, and then you wonder what the good in that is. It seems like a joke."

"Can I ask you something?" Harry asked.

"Why not? Clearly this stuff is working as a truth serum on me, I'm liable to admit to anything. Take advantage of it," she joked and was rewarded with a smile from Harry.

"Where is this coming from? Because, it seems to me that the main relationships that you've experienced, and the relationships between people who are close to you aren't dysfunctional. I mean, Ron and Hermione are in the middle of a fight, and Draco and I are driving each other crazy, but for the most part, they're pretty standard relationships."

"You mean what am I using as basis for my bitterness?" she joked, then shrugged. "What am I not using as foundation? You can't deny that there is an non-proportionate number of shitheads and dickheads and tarts compared to worthwhile catches out there."

"Is that why you turned Neville down?" Harry asked, and something in his tone made her realize he wasn't scolding her or mocking her or trying to instruct her, he was simply trying to understand where she was coming from.

"No," she admitted honestly. "Neville is something different."

"So why did you?"

"It was too easy," she said, and shrugged. "I sound horrible to say that, but it's what I felt. I mean, he's wonderful, you know? And I could see myself settling down with this sweet caring guy that I dated when I went to school." She paused. "One of the few boyfriends I've ever had. In fact, one of two boyfriends I ever had. And that would be it, I got it right, I got married, I settled down. So then what?" She took another sip of her drink. "I mean, then we have kids? Then we have the perfect life? It sounds crazy, right? I mean, how many people would kill for it all to be so easy? But when he asked me, I just thought 'oh god'."

"Oh god?" Harry prompted.

"You know. The world might be filled with a non-proportionate number of shitheads and dickheads and tarts, but fuck if I've ever encountered them. My friends have, and I know they're out there, but I've never dated any of them. I've never gotten my heart broken. I mean, I dated Collin Creevey for a few months when I was in school, but our break-up was totally painless, we just both looked at each other one day and laughed and shook our heads and agreed that friends was better than lovers for us. And here I was, with this sweet guy offering me forever and all I could think was that the 'forever' he was offering me would be just like the years before, when we were together. Small tiffs, but mostly complete compatibility and understanding and love. Do I sound like an idiot for wishing that just once I could have a mad torrid affair and get my heart so thoroughly broken that I consider becoming a recluse or joining a convent?"

"Not really," Harry said with a grin. "You've got plenty of time, Gin. There's no reason for you to be thinking about settling down permanently."

"I'm twenty-one, Harry! It's not like I have a lot of time!"

"You're twenty-one!" Harry shot back. "You have loads of time!"

"It's different for girls!" she argued.

"Only if you want it to be. Don't sell yourself short. You're not ready for a full commitment, at least, not yet, so you did what was right for you. It might have hurt Neville, but you would have done a lot more hurt to the both of you if you'd accepted, because you'd always have been thinking in the back of your head that you wanted to try something reckless, only you couldn't anymore because now you're married. And then you'd just resent him."

They sat quietly and drank some more, periodically asking for refills, and Ginny noted that Harry had switched to rum and coke, which she didn't think exactly mixed well to the beer but she didn't push it.

"Remember when we were kids?" she asked, breaking a long-standing, though comfortable silence. "When you and Ron were practically inseparable and we'd always be doing everything together?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah, I remember."

"I think I loved you," she admitted.

Harry smiled wider at her and threw an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. "I know."

…………………………..

Friday night found Draco hastily and awkwardly preparing the dinner that Harry had started while Narcissa sat on the loveseat in the living room with his lover and talked in that low voice she used when she was talking about serious matters. Draco was very familiar with that tone and was surprised to find that he was happy she had dropped by, however unexpectedly.

Narcissa had kept in contact with Draco and Harry, calling every Thursday evening to see how things were going and to catch-up. The day before, Draco had confided in his mum the difficulty Harry was having and she had taken it upon herself to come and help the both of them in any way she could.

Since his graduation, and his parents' divorce, Draco had gotten to know his mother in a way he simply hadn't before, and he valued her support and opinion. It made him impossibly happy that she had accepted him so easily, and even more proud that she and Harry got along so well.

Draco removed the wooden spoon from the pot where he had been stirring the fettucine and took a glance out to the living room, watching with a fond smile as Harry laughed about something, the previous tension that had held Harry's slim frame stiff not as prominent as it had been. It was unrealistic to think that Harry's problems were solved or that things could go back to normal, but Draco would settle for Harry coming to terms with it all, and being able to move beyond it.

……………………….

"You cannot possibly go through life continually focused on every little thing you would have changed and how that would have made everything better," Narcissa said after a period of silence. She shifted her hand and stroked the dark hair out of Harry's eyes and smiled at him. "Things like this never go away, the stay with you and they change you, and no one can really understand unless they went through something similar.

"Some people are lucky enough to go through their entire life never experiencing something so traumatic that it changes absolutely everything in a heartbeat. For those who aren't so lucky," she continued, "the only option is to deal with it as it comes."

"I've been doing that since the day I woke-up in hospital. Apparently it hasn't been working as well as I thought it was," Harry answered with a bemused smile.

"You can't break yourself up with guilt. It doesn't get you anywhere. I won't say to you that it isn't hard, or that what happened wasn't horrible and that you should get over it. I won't belittle what you feel or what happened." She paused and smiled a little when he turned to meet her eyes.

Narcissa had grown very fond of her son's lover. She thought of Harry as another son, and burst with pride at his accomplishments as any mother would. It wrecked her to see him so distraught, but she knew she couldn't make this better, she couldn't heal this hurt over. She had known Harry long enough to understand this one thing about him, and for that, she braced herself and again stroked his hair.

"If you feel guilt because you survived then the only way you can repay it is to prove that you are worth it. For your mother and father, and for your brother, throw everything you have into living, and live enough for the four of you."

"I don't know if I can," Harry admitted quietly.

"Oh, I think you can," she smiled. "You've been doing it since the accident. There were plenty of opportunities for you to have given-up, or cowered back, but you didn't. You've always tried. There's no reason now, after what you've come through, to suddenly decide to give-up."

Harry sighed, relishing the feel of having someone acknowledge his feelings and not dismiss them. It had been long enough that Harry knew that there was nothing that he could have done to help his family. The only thing he could have done differently was buckle his seatbelt, and then he would have died along with them. But still, a piece of him always wondered why he had survived, why not his mother, or his brother, or his father? Was he worth it? Did they look down on him and feel pride?

Narcissa rose from the seat and bent to drop a kiss to his hair. "Now, my son has likely burnt the pasta, spilt the sauce, singed the chicken and broken a few dishes, but dinner seems to be ready." Harry turned to see Draco setting down the bowl of fettuccine alfredo onto the table. As he went to join Narcissa at the table, Draco caught Harry's arm and drew his body close.

"Are you alright?" Draco asked quietly, whispering the question into Harry's ear.

Harry turned, positioning his lips close to his lover's ear and whispered, "When your mother leaves, I plan to lay you out on the fur rug in our lovely living room and devour you as my second dinner."

Feeling satisfied with the flush that appeared on Draco's cheeks, and the erection he could feel pressing into his hip, Harry turned away from the blond and seated himself at the table, pouring wine for Narcissa. She had made a very solid point, he decided, and there was no reason why he shouldn't start following her advice immediately.

TBC

Someone asked a question regarding same-sex marriages, since obviously it's an issue if Draco plans to propose to Harry. I have to be honest and say I really don't know if it's legal in England, (I don't think it is, but I may be wrong), but frankly, it isn't going to stop me! It's at times like this that I point meaningfully at the little badge on this fic that says 'AU', I'm taking liberties, after all, I've never worked in the music business, and technically Draco wouldn't be allowed to be slacking like this, I don't think. I just go with the flow…

I just wanted to thank everyone for being so patient. Things have been really chaotic and busy but I've started the next chapter and it definitely won't be so long for the update. Sorry for this not so stellar chapter, but I was eager to get something posted.

This chapter dedicated Lactuca for such an amazing review. After reading, I got right down to work on this chapter! It was such an incredibly thoughtful and thorough review! Thanks so very much. And no, my chapter titles aren't quotes from anything, just things that occur to me. I'm glad my teasers don't give everything away, I sometimes worry about it. Thank-you again!

And

To Fritzi Rosier. I'm glad that you 'gave-in' and that you're enjoying. Never fear, angst for our main lovelies is on the way, hell, no one's relationship is perfect. And I love putting Harry through hell, it's irresistible! Thanks so much for the long review! It made my day and got me working on this chapter. Angst comes to those who wait! -

TEASERS:

An unexpected visit

Cruel and unusual behavior

Difficult departures

Inevitable reunifications

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