Without Question
By Tien Riu
tien_riu@yahoo.com
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Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters belong to J.K. Rowlings. Plot (what little there is of it ^_^) and depiction of characters are mine. WARNING: The future of this piece of fiction contains slash/yaoi/shonen ai/homosexual relationships.
Once more – thank you to AsheFarley, beta-reader extraordinare. Who patiently worked through my improbable ideas, read through my rants and babble. ^_^ Now if only I could find a man who had those qualities and was straight ^_-
NOTE: This chapter saw a huge influx of reviews (for which I thank all of you! ^_^ Am feeling very read). As such, it's reaching a stage where the response adds a large amount of text to the chapter. I know this occasionally annoys readers – so: do I keep responding to reviews? Do I include a response in a separate chapter (much as I have done in Crossing Bridges)? Do I stop responding all together? As the responses are for the readers, I would really like your opinion on this.
Author's Notes and response to reviews (in alphabetical order) at end of chapter. Enjoy the story!
Tien Riu
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Chapter Twenty-Three: Before Dawn
Harry dragged in some much needed air and then he shouted: "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR MALFOY?!"
"What do you think Potter?" Draco hissed, face so close that his breath ruffled Harry's hair.
"You're insane Malfoy!" Harry squirmed as he tried to gain leverage, "Get off me!"
Draco didn't move; "What were you were doing?"
"Why do you care?" Harry demanded, struggling against the other boy's weight.
"What were you doing?" Draco demanded, grabbing the cut arm (startling Harry); blood dripped down his hand and splashed onto their robes, "WHAT WERE YOU DOING?!"
Harry stared in shock at Draco – Good grief. Malfoy's lost his mind.
"What were you doing?"
Had this occurred in the corridors (probably between classes) or in the Great Hall (during a meal) or even on the Quidditch pitch, Harry would never have told Draco the truth. Not that he actually needed to keep it a secret (well, not once the spell was complete and they couldn't stop him). It was just – well, not telling Draco had become a habit over the past four years.
But – he was in the Astronomy Tower.
With Draco Malfoy.
On top of him.
Any of the three statements would have been occasion for out of character behaviour. That all three were 'true' was rather mind-boggling. Besides – his arm hurt. And breathing was rather hard when somebody was on top of you.
"I was performing a spell." Harry muttered.
"A what?"
"A spell – with magic. What else would I be doing up here in the Tower?!" Harry snapped irritatedly, "Now get off me Malfoy you sod!" the last at a yell that made his ears ring.
"A spell Potter?" Draco sneered, "In the Astronomy Tower? This early in the morning? With a knife?" a lock of hair had fallen from its carefully slicked back position, it dangled over one eye, "Let me guess – you were collecting virgin's blood for some sort of fertility rite."
Is he trying to start a fight? Harry wondered – because despite his prejudice against Slytherins (and Malfoys in particular) he really was a logical and rather sensible (given his age) lad, "What if I was? You jump on people doing fertility rites often, Malfoy?" he flushed and hoped that it was too dark for the Slytherin to notice.
"Wait. It was a growth charm! Good idea Potter – you definitely need one." Draco smirked, "Or – I know! A love potion to use on the weasel –"
"Loony." Harry muttered and gave up trying to budge the weight (Who would have thought Malfoy weighed so much?) on him, "Look – get off me and I'll tell you the spell." He said finally (the stone was cold, his arm hurt, his head ached from where it had slammed against the floor and frankly, with his luck, somebody was going to walk in on them soon and it would probably be Colin Creevey – and then there would be pictures everywhere and frankly he'd be hard pressed not to hex that camera into a blast-ended skrewt -).
To give Harry credit, it was late (or early) enough that very few people would have been even vaguely coherent.
Draco stared down at him for several seconds. Harry, lying there, absolutely refused to recall, in any detail (at all) a similar occasion less than a month ago when he had been in the position to notice that the boy's eyes were truly silver (rather than shades of grey or blue). This is getting ridiculous - every time Malfoy gets close to me strange things happen. Harry thought irritatedly, If it isn't weird lumps – and it had better have been his wand is all I can say – it's kissing – kissing! – out by the Great Lake at odd hours and now this. Jumping me in the Astronomy Tower after curfew. Ron's right – the Malfoys are all either evil or insane, and this one's probably both.
Finally, with evident distrust, Draco got off him. Harry stood up with a breath of relief and, rubbing the back of his head (where a lump was already forming) he searched and found his wand.
"What spell were you casting?" the Slytherin demanded almost as soon as Harry had found and pocketed his wand.
"It was a protection spell – for Hermione and Ron –"
"A – what?"
It was the first time Harry had ever seen Draco Malfoy so completely shocked (well, excepting that time back in first year when they had come across Voldemort drinking Unicorn's blood in the Forbidden Forest – but the terror took precedence).
"A protection spell." Harry repeated, with more patience than he felt.
He glanced over to the rough circle of blood drops he had created (and wondered, idly if blood was hard to get out of stone – because he wasn't really looking forward to the expression on Professor Sinistra's face otherwise). The book hadn't said what was supposed to happen after the casting.
"A – protection spell?" Draco repeated slowly, " – one that requires blood?"
"Yes." Harry rubbed his arm – it was beginning to throb in time with his head.
The book hadn't mentioned what was to be done with the cut, but given that it had been intent rather than the blood (per say) that had been important, he rather supposed that healing it instantly with a potion or a visit to Madam Pomfrey would be rather – well, bad.
"Blood -?"
"Yes!" Harry shouted, "What's your point?" and refrained (rather mightily in his opinion) from adding: 'you repetitive dunderhead' to the end of that sentence (if only because imitating Professor Snape was the last thing he wanted to be doing).
"Potter you idiot." Draco sneered, "Protection spells don't exist – they're myths. As any five year old would know." Harry's fists began itching in time with the throbbing of his arm and head, "Fairy tales – and I've never heard of one that needed blood."
"Indeed."
Both boys froze and turned, almost as one, to the door of the Astronomy classroom.
"Professor Dumbledore." Harry said, and tugged on the sleeve of his robe self-consciously.
The Headmaster was silent as he stared at the boys; finally he turned his full attention to Draco, "Mr Malfoy. You have my permission to retire early from your detention."
Draco nodded sharply, "Yes, sir."
The Slytherins, for all their snide remarks about Hogwarts and its headmaster, rarely (so Harry noted) showed actual disrespect when confronted with the man himself. It always struck Harry as a prime example of Slytherin guile and cowardice.
"Oh, and Mr Malfoy?" Draco paused in the doorway of the classroom though he did not turn; "I believe the password to the Slytherin common room was changed shortly after curfew. A stop by Professor Snape's chambers might be in order."
It was only after Draco's footsteps had faded into silence that Professor Dumbledore turned his gaze to Harry, the gold rims of his glasses glinting in the moonlight, "A word in my office if you please, Harry."
*
Narcissa, the Lady Malfoy, arrived at three sharp – and despite the hour, was impeccably dressed for the occasion of meeting her son's Head of House. Remus had once heard that there was clothing suitable for any occasion – on meeting Narcissa Malfoy eighteen years after her graduation from Hogwarts, he was more inclined to believe that statement. Narcissa was one of the grandé dames of wizarding society – and bore the power that position brought with an unconscious grace.
That being said, Remus found no other use for the woman. He had never met a woman so utterly – Capable of upholding every single sexist muggle stereotype – the same ones Lily used to entertain us with when were finishing our Muggle Studies assignments. It was – absolutely terrifying - that Professor Dumbledore had made decisions based on information provided by Narcissa Malfoy.
Finally, after fifteen minutes of what amounted to a discussion on several ex-Slytherins – all of who seemed to be part of the social circle Severus and Narcissa shared – Remus quietly excused himself.
He had to talk to Professor Dumbledore. Sirius was right. We can't trust Malfoys – they're either evil or feather-brained.
*
"Finally. I had forgotten how utterly dense Gryffindors can be." Narcissa murmured as Remus Lupin exited the room, "Very polite of course – just unable to take anything but the most blatant of hints that their presence is unwanted."
"I had wondered why you were imitating Amaryllis Parkinson." Severus said mildly – despite the fact that one of his eyes had begun to twitch (ever so subtly) after the first five minutes of mindless gossip Narcissa had forced onto him, "Or what possible relevance Josephine Crabbe's latest choice in robes had on anything. At all." He added through gritted teeth.
Narcissa laughed lightly, "Oh that was just to amuse myself – you glower when you're irritated Severus. It used to entertain me for hours during the worst of the meetings – Tyche and I wagered on how long it would be before you lost control over your magic and something exploded." She frowned thoughtfully, "As I recall, I placed my favourite earrings against those pairs of little shoes she kept making for – well, you know." this with a laughing glance in his direction, "I fancied a pair for Llyr – this was before Lucius set his heart on 'Draco' of course." Narcissa paused, tapping one perfectly manicured finger against a pursed lip, "Oh dear, lost track of that sentence didn't I? Where was I? Ah yes –"
"Narcissa -" Severus began.
" – well I told Tyche that all it would take was having to listen to Lord Evans – the senior – pontificate on potions one more time. Tyche won – but that is neither here nor there."
"Narcissa," Severus stopped, then began again, "In payment for what I'm doing for your son – never mention Tyche in my presence again."
Narcissa tilted her head, staring at Severus in silence for several seconds, "You haven't forgotten." She smiled, "Good."
Severus flinched.
The silence was filled with a weight that empty air did not normally have.
"Never forget, Severus Snape, where your actions put Tyche."
"Narcissa. It's late. I have a class at nine that will, without question, witness at least one cauldron explosion and two near poisonings." Severus growled, "Let the past lie."
"Never." Narcissa smirked.
"Then let your son – the last Malfoy heir – be dragged into this war. Let him die because I cannot help him!" Severus snapped and watched with little satisfaction as Narcissa's socialite mask crumbled into an angry glare.
"You want me to 'let the past lie' – let it lie when you have stripped her from your life?" Narcissa demanded heatedly, "You – who has forgotten her and everything that she was – who she was –"
"She's dead Narcissa -!" Severus stopped, dragging in a ragged breath, "Tyche D'Epona is dead." He stared at her, daring her to speak; the silence stretched and at length, in a calmer tone he asked: "What did Voldemort do to your son, Narcissa?"
"Voldemort wants a new pet." Narcissa bit out.
There was a pause.
"I beg your pardon?" Severus finally managed.
"And this from one of the chosen few.
The height of magical breeding – a wizard of purest blood." Narcissa rolled her eyes, "This war would be
over and won if the Dark Lord would see witches as something other than
decoration." She said derisively, "And
the irony that this is a view the wizarding world adopted from muggles -
" she made a disgusted face, "It
certainly hasn't escaped me."
Severus waved a hand dismissively, "Rouse Gryffindors to fight for equality between the sexes in your own time." He said impatiently, "What does Lord Voldemort want as a new pet? How does Draco factor into his plans?" and silently: And how will it effect the balance in the war?
"Shouldn't it be obvious?" Narcissa's voice was flat and expressionless, "Voldemort wants his own personal dragon – and Lucius volunteered the last scion of the Malfoy and Du Lér families for the task." She stood suddenly, pacing in an uncharacteristic expression of nervous energy.
"But how –?" Severus began.
"The Rite of the Dragon – if it was not obvious by now you idiot." She said; her robes swirled around her legs, the pink a strange swath of pastel amidst the grey stone and green of the chamber.
"The Rite doesn't exist." Severus protested immediately, "It is fundamentally impossible to complete!"
"Has teaching Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs sucked all intelligence from your mind, Severus?" Narcissa demanded as she swung around to stare at the potions master, "Magic is about the impossible and Lord Voldemort has made it his life's work to side step every one of the restrictions the Ministry of Magic has placed on that fact." A cold wind blew through the chamber, "With enough power – nothing is impossible –" she stopped, laughing lightly, "But of course – how can you believe that when despite your loyalty to Voldemort and his ideals, you could never heal Tyche?" Severus remained in the chair he was seated in, a still dark figure half obscured by the shadows in the fireless room, "Dragons are renown for their loyalty – and Voldemort wanted one. With silver colouring. Why he couldn't have had a fixation for fast racing brooms –" again Narcissa stopped, "He chose Lucius and Lucius chose me. If I had –" she took a breath before her voice began to shake.
"What happened?"
Narcissa shrugged, "After the first hour, he stopped imitating a hearth fire and looked exactly like any other baby would. Or at least any other baby I had ever seen –" she shook her head, the motion uncharacteristically jerky, "I was never told why – my duty was complete the moment Draco was conceived."
"The Rite – the rite has to be finished, to bind the dragon to its maker." Severus said quietly.
"This summer. Two weeks after he returned to the Manor." Narcissa said, "Or so I surmised – it was the day Lucius sent me to the Continent." She looked up at the clock on the wall ("Classes begin at nine – you greasy glob of goobers!"), "According to the legends of the Rite, Draco will transform into a dragon when he reaches his physical majority – or his eighteenth birthday. Lucius never clarified the point."
"And then?" Severus pressed.
Narcissa did not turn from her study of the clock, she shrugged instead, a graceful rise and fall of fabric, "Draco becomes the first noble dragon in existence since the end of the Golden Age. Or – he ends up the way of any would-be animagus who has attempted to become a dragon. Trapped and as true an animal as if it were born into that shape – and no recourse or finite incantatum to save the last -!" she stopped abruptly, standing still and straight – a pale flash of white in the shadows, when she began again, her voice was once more steady, "And perfectly loyal to Lord Voldemort – of course. Another unusual pet for the Dark Lord – I believe he intends to ride it into battle. Or perhaps use it to scare his enemies. It is always hard to predict our Lord's intentions -" she stopped suddenly, glancing sharply at the door.
They both heard the exclamation followed by a loud 'thump'.
"Tell me you cast some form of ward against eavesdropping." Narcissa said.
Severus threw her a frankly insulted glare, "Of course. Unfortunately the wards activate when the door is closed." He gestured to where Remus Lupin's oh-so-quiet departure had left a crack between frame and wood, "Bloody Gryffindors." With a flick of his wand, Severus flung open the door.
Up the long corridor that terminated in Severus' personal chambers, the aforementioned Lupin (struggling to rise on what would later turn out to be a sprained ankle) lay in a dishevelled pile at the foot of the staircase.
The information the werewolf had to offer was no better than his condition; holding onto the banister to maintain balance, Remus gasped out: "Passed me on the stairs – probably heard everything you said. I tried to stop him – your students are quick with the hexes. Never even saw him draw his wand - some form of incendio. Fell down trying to extinguish the flames – rather stupid I know. I should have just called water or cast an extinguishing charm." He shook his head, "Are those bells ringing?"
At which point Remus fell down in a spate of dizziness (caused, Madam Pomfrey later diagnosed, by the concussion he had sustained from falling down half a flight of stairs).
*
Sirius Black had been waiting in the Headmaster's Office when Harry arrived with Professor Dumbledore. Somehow – and Harry wasn't precisely sure how this worked – Sirius had found out what he had been doing in the Astronomy Tower (well, the parts that didn't involve Draco Malfoy anyway) and had jumped to all the wrong conclusions.
Which, it seemed, was what Professor Dumbledore had done as well – Harry was slowly reaching the conclusion that most everybody would reach the wrong idea. He was also beginning to realise that with dried blood on his arms and a transfigured steak knife lying on the floor of the Astronomy Tower, there probably was rather a lot of reasons for this effect.
To say the conversation had deteriorated would be equivalent to referring to Sirius Black's twelve years in Azkaban as a 'pleasant jaunt'. It certainly didn't help that Professor Dumbledore had seated himself off to the side and didn't seem inclined to jump in with helpful distractions or disconcerting conversational asides. Harry was reaching the point where he was willing to eat canary creams if only to distract Sirius with feathers.
And thus, the conversation continued – with Sirius in, for the first time, full Godfather mode.
"Not that I understand what Hermione and Ron have to do with – with – with cutting yourself - but why would you think they were in any danger?" Sirius demanded finally, running an agitated hand through his hair.
Harry stared helplessly at his godfather. This was not the same as avoiding Professor Flitwick's 'talks' or hiding whenever Professor Trelawney appeared. Sirius was his godfather. Sirius was the closest person to a father he had.
What Sirius said was supposed to matter. Except - it was just as hard trying to explain how he felt to Sirius as it had been to anybody else. Maybe it's hard because I can't explain it to myself.
Sirius grabbed Harry's arm - the cut had ceased bleeding but the blood remained: a track of dried red-black, "Harry." Sirius stopped, then continued, "I know I haven't been a very good godfather - James and Lily are probably both rolling in their graves at how badly I've done and you only fifteen but -" he swallowed, "Surely things aren't so bad that you would want to die?" he said, gripping Harry's arm tightly, "Talk to me Harry - whatever it is that's making you unhappy, I can make it better." He pleaded.
(Make it better?)
Harry stared at his godfather, not sure of what to say - or how to say it.
(Make it better?)
"I - It isn't like that, Sirius." Harry finally managed, "I wasn't trying to kill myself." He glanced at Professor Dumbledore, sipping from a cup of tea, "I – I wasn't." he was extremely aware of how utterly unconvincing he sounded, standing there with blood on his arm and robes, "It – it was for a spell."
(Make it better?)
"That's what they all say -!" Sirius dropped Harry's arm only to grab his shoulders as if to shake him, "Please Harry - talk to me. Between Flitwick's report and this – I don't know what to think! No I do – but I can't believe that things have gotten so bad this past few months – and – Harry –" he stopped, breathing deeply, "Harry, what's wrong?"
"Nothing!" Harry protested, "Nothing's wrong -" Which was, he knew, mostly a lie.
(He wants to 'make it better'?)
It wasn't that everything was wrong - it was that he wasn't right.
He wasn't normal. The Dursleys had called him 'freak', the teachers at the primary school had preferred 'different' and those words were not so dissimilar from 'special' and 'saviour' – or even 'Boy Who Lived'. The only thing that really differed was that he had friends now - ones he cared about. Ones that would die if hit by a miscast 'Avada Kedavra'. Sirius and the teachers had already fought in one war – Harry knew they could defend themselves. They were fully trained witches and wizards. Cedric Diggory, however, had been killed because of his proximity to Harry.
Harry refused to allow the same thing to happen to Hermione and Ron.
Bleeding was nothing compared to what he would do to make sure they remained alive and well.
Bleeding wasn't even close.
"You – don't understand." Harry said tightly.
He wants to make it better!
"I'm trying – if you would just –" Sirius began.
"You're not listening Sirius. You can't make it better." Harry interrupted, fists clenched, "You don't even understand – how can you make anything better?" (You don't know what the hole inside is like. You can't fill it up with something else. You can't make Cedric Diggory alive again. You can't make it so Cho never loved the boy I killed! You can't change the past – you can't make last year not happen.)
"Harry – Harry, calm down –" Sirius said, reaching out as if to touch the boy.
Harry jerked away, "Don't touch me."
Sirius stopped, and paled, "Merlin." He said, "Harry – they – did they –"
"Don't come near me." Harry whispered, "Don't make promises you can't keep." He glared at Sirius – who took several steps back in surprise, "Don't promise to make it better when you can't. Don't you dare."
At which point the door leading to Professor Dumbledore's antechamber swung open. All occupants in the office (except Professor Dumbledore, who had been facing in that direction) turned to look in shock at Pansy Parkinson (who looked equally surprised – that is till she caught sight of Sirius – and started to scream).
"Petrificus!" Sirius snapped, flicking his wand; Pansy froze and collapsed backwards – into the arms of Gregory Goyle – and in the confusion, Harry bolted.
The last thing Harry heard as he ran down the stone stairs and past the gargoyle was Sirius': "Obliviate!"
*
Hermione was currently sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room, listening to Ron's list of current woes – all of which focused almost exclusively on Harry's odd behaviour ("Studying Hermione – I mean, it's normal for you but Harry? And that on top of giving up Quidditch. It has to be You-Know-Who!"). It wasn't exactly what she had hoped for when Harry had hinted Ron wanted to 'talk' – but it was calm, and it was normal, and most of all: it had absolutely nothing to do with Divinations or Professor Sybill Trelawney.
" – don't you think?" Ron finished, staring expectantly at Hermione.
She blinked and replayed the conversation in her mind before thoughtfully replying: "Well – maybe. Harry has never liked drawing attention to himself –" Ron gave her a disbelieving look, " – trust me Ron. If he did, half the adventures we've had wouldn't have happened at the end of the year – or at all. Just imagine if he'd told Professor Dumbledore straightaway that he was hearing voices in the walls – or that he was a Parseltongue. Or that your brothers had given him a map with a suspicious charm on it. Or that he was having strange dreams about You-Know-Who –"
"Alright – I get the point!" Ron interrupted.
Hermione sighed, sometimes she wondered what it was precisely that made her consider Ron one of her closest friends (It can't be for his looks – please, dear God, don't let it be for his looks. I can't be that shallow – or lacking in aesthetic taste – can I?), "Taking all that into consideration, however, I'm still fairly sure that his behaviour of late has very little – if anything at all - to do with Professor Kettleburn."
"But – it's always the Defence against the Dark Arts teacher!" Ron protested.
"That isn't a conclusive argument Ron!" Hermione said, rolling her eyes, "Professor Lupin wasn't evil."
"He was a werewolf!"
"But he wasn't evil."
Ron subsided and yawned before saying: "Why's Harry doing an assignment for Astronomy anyway? Professor Sinistra hasn't given us any homework since Finch-Fletchley spilled star-dust all over the floor in the Tower and made a new galaxy next to Andromeda." Hermione, barely listening, glanced up at the clock hanging over the portrait hole ("You might as well just stay up and go to classes!"), and felt something cold slither through her stomach.
It was almost half past three in the morning – and Harry was still gone. If you're not back by three, Ron and I are going straight to Dumbledore.
"Oh no." Hermione whispered.
Ron stared at her in growing horror: "I thought it was you two off having adventures without me – like back in third year." He said, "But it isn't is it? Harry's been hiding from you too."
*
The moon had set. The star-etched floor of the Astronomy Tower glowed (except for the place near Andromeda, which shone like a lamp) in the grey, predawn light.
A Malfoy does not serve. A Malfoy does not bow. A Malfoy leads – a Malfoy rules –
Draco didn't know how he knew (or perhaps he did not know, and it was merely coincidence that he was right) that Harry Potter would be there. But he was not surprised when he rounded the last corner on the steep, circular staircase leading into the Astronomy classroom and found the Boy Who Lived standing at the far end, next to one of the windows.
- a pet -
There was blood dripping down his arm, splashing onto the flagstones.
"Work." Harry whispered, "Is this enough?"
The words washed over Draco as he walked into the room – it really didn't matter what the other boy thought or was doing.
- silver – chosen – silver – and chosen – just like that – chosen – to be a pet – trapped - animal –
"I'm willing to die for them. Is that enough?"
A Malfoy makes his own destiny -
"It has to be – I'll die. I'll die right here if it'll save them. Work – please –" the knife fell from his hand, " – please –" Harry looked up, eyes glowing green in the not-darkness of morning, "Malfoy." He said flatly, "If you jump me again, I swear I'll –"
A Malfoy takes.
Draco grabbed Harry – the blood on his sleeves matching those on the front of his robes – and yanked him forward.
"Shut up."
"What is the matter with you Malfoy –"
"Shut up. Shut up." Fire outlined the flagstones, feeding on the debris within the cracks, "Shut up."
Blue flames began to appear, burning on thin air. Harry stared, eyes wide: "What the –"
Draco reached out and yanked Harry's head around, "Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up."
The tables arranged around the edges of the classroom burst into flame.
A Malfoy does not wear a collar.
- and Draco kissed him.
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Author's Note: Cookie (Narcissa Malfoy, Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron or 'Dean and Seamus?!') of choice to anybody who figures out where 'Tyche', 'Llyr' and any other mythological reference comes from and/or their relevance. ^_^
Response to reviews:
Please note, they're in alphabetical order (for the most part) so if you want to read my response to your review, it'll be easy to find.
AsheFarley - my 200th reviewer. ^-^ It really does require some form of acknowledgement doesn't it?
Clepsydra-Delphinus – thank you for niffling me at Fictionalley.org. Without Question has been niffled! And on cliches: strangely enough, I've often found that most cliches are actually fairly realistic (for a given amount of 'realistic' that is). The way the cliche is used however, is where most writers seem to falter. Everybody knows Harry has his mother's eyes - and his father's body - but what those around him think of that is something not commonly explored. Besides, there has to be a reason why Petunia remembers her sister with such vitriol - even after fifteen years. If Harry had resembled Petunia or some other Evans family member (and by the way - there is at least one student with 'Evans' as a last name at Hogwarts - Petunia as a squib anybody ^_^) I wonder how much Petunia would have hated Harry.
Thanks to abby, Alexial, Bored Beyond Belief, Bronze Eagle, bthatcher2002, choka, Inarae, Izanami Hime, Jordan, Janice P., kin', KMS, Kylni, Loretta, Miss Mew, mistykasumi, mjwhittaker, ninerings, Stormy1x2, soymilk, Sophie, Tietsu, setsuna, Vendela, - in particular (abby) the first Pansy you liked? Wow. ^_^ (Stormy1x2) ~grins~ I have a few My Little Ponies and Barbies in storage as well - despite being an extreme tom boy who prefered using the chess set to plot the dynamics of a war between two fantastical kingdoms. (Janice P.) The 'bathroom incident' between Harry and Draco is ... shall we say, a cookie scene. If anybody's interested, I'll post it one of these chapters. (KMS) I'd be honoured if you recommended it on your recs page. (mjwhittaker) Nope, definately not Singaporean - though educated in the Commonwealth. Perhaps that might explain the similarities? (Tietsu) Thanks - it's really very nice to know that people like WQ.
Apple_QB: the review definately made up for never getting one from you prior to this. But don't let that stop you from reviewing again. ^_^ It's nice to know that there are people out there who like the changing POV and the storyline and the mirade of plots circling around the story.
Candy Taiyo: I'd be incredibly honoured if WQ was recommended for another archive. Thank you.
cristalfairy, the zedmeister – All in good time? ~grins~
Dee: I understand completely. I'm a slasher too – so it takes quite a bit to make me read a story that doesn't involve slash at some point. So thank you.
Demeter: "like" would be too strong a term for what I think of Sybill Trelawney - possibly "under utilised" or "misunderstood" would be closer. In canon I've always found it rather - strange - that her predictions did come true (for the most part - and the over-dose of Harry-will-die prophecies can be based on the fact that the situations he faces is so out-of-the-ordinary that he could die from ANYTHING). I'm not – completely sure about 'liking' her – in canon that is. She's rather two-dimensional (but then so is everybody but Harry, Hermione, Ron and Dumbledore) – however, I think that as the books progress, she'll play a larger part.
kbk: Ah, vindication! Somebody finally commented on Hermione - always rather strange writing her. It's far too easy to fall into Mary-Sue'ism with Hermione. She really does contain the most amount of 'normal' traits doesn't she? ^_^
MiniMe: Just one question: where is the Discworld/Harry Potter crossover? I've been looking forward to reading it. ~ waiting and waiting and waiting....~ By the way - have you read Sam Vimes (over in the Discworld fanfics category)? Spot on Pratchett humour - and almost as prolific as the god-of-discworld himself. ^_^
Also - you've been advertising me on FA.org? Where? (~grins~) I can't help it - I like reading what other people say about me. ^_^ And - 'extract of duck' and Remus Lupin. ~grins~ It's a story (cookie I guess) but not very pivotal to WQ's plot. ^_^
S-Star: thanks for following the recommendation. ^_^ And more so for replying to my request and telling me where youd found it. ^_^
Silvaerina: Thank you! Thank you, thank you thank you! I know it irritates many H/D fans reading that it's taking so long for Harry and Draco to jump each other like rabid were-rabbits in heat on aphrodisiacs but to me, it just can't be plausible if two enemies suddenly decided to shag like bunnies after four years of hatred... It's fantastic to know at least some of you agree with me. ^_^
tnf: ~grins~ Despite all evidence to the contrary, the cliff hanger at the end of this chapter wasn't done in the interest of mean-spiritedness but for a reason. The similarity of ending for Chapter Twenty-Three and Chapter Twenty-Four was done on purpose - this chapter marks the change in Draco and Harry's "relationship" (for want of a better term). And thanks for the 50 points - just which House? ^_^
And - for comparing me to Anna's incredible Jewel of the Nile/Last Tango in Paris's Sybill Trelawney - thanks beyond measure. ^_^ (am now inflating ego)
zeynel: Thanks for the correction! And - I'll definately take you up on the French help. ^_^
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Look! Harry and Draco shagging like were-rabbits in heat on aphrodisiacs! (And now that I have your attention: Review? Please? If only to point out plot holes? Or out-of-characterisation? Or if not tell me how much you loved it (this last because Sildtsr told me to stop asking for 'it sucks' messages ^_^)
Edited 22/03/2003 – canon-based correction (Oblivious to Obliviate – with thanks to Koanju)