Please Note: This fic's rating has been upgraded to M/R. It's SLASH of course. Review Responses and Disclaimer are below.

""snaketalk"" Parseltongue

AN: Hi everyone. This chapter is really wonki. I think it's a culmination of my muddled thoughts about both the Pensive and the Veil. It came out in another flash even as I started asking myself more questions about those two magickal artifacts. I've said it before, JKR is a genius. Anyway, hope you enjoy. If confusion finds you, let me know. As always, I will answer any questions you may have. Blessings. LL

"Shut Up & Kiss Me"
by: imLittleLily

The Veil: The Memory of a Memory

Harry fiddled with the barbs of his quill; face buried in a tome nearly large enough to hide Hermione, and chewed his lip. He was very busy. Who knew that not attending Hogwarts could fill your life with constant activities? Research up to his ears and practicing wandless magic along with trying to pull his mind around to the wizarding spy game, tilted him into worlds he never imagined. Without realizing it, his hand came up to his temple and rubbed in a circular motion. He puckered his brows down into a frown, acknowledging that he wasn't really reading. The Pensive. He sighed.

"We didn't do it, mum."

"Draco, don't lie to me…"

"I'm not."

They came into the library with looks of fierce anger vibrating between them. Harry looked up to see Draco glaring at Mrs. Malfoy with what Draco referred to as the Black Glare. Harry pulled his lower lip in. He could have sworn it was the same way Sirius' face looked in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place the night Snape came to inform him of his Occlumency lessons. The exact same glare—well except for the blond nimbus—funny, he'd never noticed that before. He cleared his throat. "What—didn't we do?"

Mrs. Malfoy turned her glare on him. "This!" She thrust the morning Dailey Prophet into his face.

Harry glanced at Draco, and then took the paper allowing his eyes to drop to the front page.

Vigilantes Strike Again!
What is Going on in the Wizarding World?

Late last night, this reporter…

Harry noticed the byline of his favorite brainless reporter—the one who reported him missing last summer, Pandora S. Attestar was the author of this herald. He made a derisive noise in his throat.

Draco reciprocated.

Mrs. Malfoy hissed through her teeth at them and placed her fists on her hips. She spread the width of her glare to unify over them both.

"Mum…"

Harry left them to it so he could read the article.

Three more bodies…previously unknown to be Death Eaters…all bearing the Dark Mark…

He leaned forward, checking the list of dead. No—not there. A feral growl began in his gut as his fingers tightened on the newspaper. "Draco, did you know these guys?"

"No. They must be new recruits."

Mrs. Malfoy puffed up. "Stop acting like you don't know what's going on."

Harry wondered if he would ever think of her as anything but Mrs. Mal—

"Maybe," Draco's voice raised in pitch. "It's because we don't know. I told you—"

"Draco." Harry pulled in an exasperated breath and released it. The scent of lunch came with it, turning his stomach into a growling muse. Harry bit the inside of his cheek, thinking about Ron. Damn…distracted… He brought his focus back to the argument. "Instead of wasting time, arguing about this, we need to find out what really happened. Does Ghillie know anything?"

Draco shook his head. "He just left to see what, if anything his spies know."

Harry inclined his head, and then swiveled to Mrs. Malfoy. "I realize you have questions. Draco had nothing to do with this." He indicated the newspaper to emphasis his point. "You should know this reporter is very unreliable. She's responsible for reports that I was missing last summer. I wasn't."

Mrs. Malfoy growled. "That doesn't absolve you."

Harry rubbed his forehead fiercely, her anger made him feel strange. His brain was in such a fuddle. It's that damn Pensive. He had just spent most of the morning in it and then released a couple of his memories. Silvery strands, be damned. He felt as if the empty spaces in his head were filling with air at a fast rate. He gritted his teeth and tried to shake the feeling off. "Mrs. Malfoy, I didn't intend to kill the Lestrange brothers. I know you're still angry about that. The curse was meant to be a distraction so we could get away..."

"Harrumph!"

His hand twitched outside of his control, bringing a painful frown to his face. "It's a Dark curse—they should've known…" His words sounded strange to his own ears—foggy, as though coming through heavy mist.

Draco's concerned voice came through despite a growing sense of distance and thickening of a haze. "Harry. What's wrong?"

He met those silver orbs as a spike of horror drove itself through him, coming out in the form of a gasp. His eyes began to cross and his knees felt like watery jam—no like—he sought his chair and missed. The floor, hard under his arse, seemed to laugh. He gave his head a rough shake like trying to send a bug on its way, his hand found his forehead. Blood.

"Harry!" Even Mrs. Malfoy joined in the fervor standing over him. The room spun out of focus and pictures of another place overwhelmed his senses. He choked on the coppery smell of blood as it washed over him. Pain of the intensive kind, shot through his scar—he yelled in response. No—it wasn't him screaming.

"Crucio!"

Evil cackling resonated in his head…

Harry stilled—frozen, trying to focus on the scene of horror before him even as it assaulted his senses.

"You were a fool to think…"

"NO! Don't! I did nothing—"

"Avada Kedavra!"

Green flashed, surrounding him, as vile laughter rang in Harry's head. With abruptness, his eyes came into focus on Draco. Relief spread across his beautiful countenance. "Harry?"

Harry blinked his eyes in response and tried to stand. Helping hands came forth to assist him in finding his lost chair. Oh, there it is… He frowned deeply again, his fingers against his scar.

Draco pulled back slightly and knelt before him, still wearing a look of concern. "Winky."

Winky arrived, a large spoon in one hand and a bowl of sprouts in the other.

Harry wondered vaguely why she brought them with her. He tried again to sort through his brain. Damn Pensive…

"Winky," Draco sounded harried. "Take those back to the kitchen and bring the healing potions kit. Harry's bleeding from his scar."

Harry knew Draco realized that using his wand wouldn't work. He leaned his head on the back of the chair and closed his eyes, attempting to organize what he had seen into some cohesive data.

Mrs. Malfoy sat in a wing chair before the fireplace and disappeared behind the Dailey Prophet.

Harry only knew this because she moved the chair to her preferred position and crinkled the paper when she opened it. He was accustomed to this stance from her—it was a daily ritual. He tried to focus on his breathing even as Draco began to pace.

"Draco, don't do that."

"I'm going to pace, mum. Are you feeling better, Harry?"

Harry grunted.

Winky returned and stood on a stool to work on him. The knowledge she gained from caring for Barty Crouch, Jr. for so long proved to be invaluable to them. She would have qualified to be a medi-witch—if she was one, that is. He began to relax under her gentle administrations.

"You is feeling better?"

Harry opened his eyes and tried to give her a reassuring smile. "Thanks, Winky. Yeah, I feel better."

Winky's smile lightened his heart just a little. She popped out to finish lunch preparations.

"Draco, call Picaro. It's time for him to come out of hiding."

Draco gave him a curt nod and opened the window, whistling.

Harry reached across the table, pulled a fresh parchment closer, and then wrote a note.

I saw what you did.

P.

He charmed the parchment with a complex anti-detection spell learned from one of the old Potter tomes and allowed a smirk to grace his features.

Draco, looking over his shoulder to see what he wrote, gasped.

Harry nodded in acknowledgement and tied the note to Picaro's leg. Rising, he made his way to the window and whispered one word to his owl.

Picaro screeched and took flight.

Draco's voice pulled his attention around from the sight of black wings cutting the sky. "Harry, are you sure about that?" He pointed to the sky.

"Yes."

"What have you done?" Narcissa Malfoy looked at him with fear raging in her eyes.

Harry eyed her, a cool distance rising within. "I just informed our enemy anonymously that I know what he did. You can stop blaming Draco now." Without looking at either of them, he walked up to his bedchamber deep in thought.

Harry scowled at the empty portrait. Dumbledore leaving didn't make him feel any better. Winky's nursing and a comforting lunch may have healed his physical distress. The distance between the mental healing he wished for and the way his brain felt right now was fathomless.

So what if he had learned to crack the barrier, or he sneered—veil of existence into the mind of a demon and his enemy? What good is it going to do? The result was a loss of memories leaving gaps in his head. No one told him it would be like this. He attempted to quell his anger when the sound of footsteps came into the library from the outer hall. The book before him was interesting in an instant. He fingered the page as Draco stopped in front of the table, facing him.

"Why?"

Harry chewed the inside of his cheek, not answering.

"Harry…"

"Why—what?"

Draco growled and grabbed the chair between him and the table. He pulled it out roughly and sat. "Why would you tell him you know what he did when you've worked so hard to penetrate his mind without him knowing?" Draco frowned at Harry and sat up straight as if a thought occurred to him. "Did he know you were there?"

Harry remained silent, his emotions in a turmoil of unexpressed rage. He could feel it boiling in his gut, looking for a way out.

Draco leaned forward. "Harry."

Harry shoved the book in front of him away and stood. "You know what, Draco? I have questions, too. I don't hear anyone offering answers. You know Dumbledore always told me how great putting memories in a Pensive was because his brain was so full. I don't seem to have caught on the that aspect yet. And what about my question of WHY?" He glared at Draco, trying to get lost in the swirling silver—this time it didn't work. Once again, something that wasn't Draco, became interesting, this time it was the window. The glass shimmered with the glow of the setting sun. He swallowed; somehow, he had avoided Draco all day, since lunch anyway.

"Harry, what's your why question?"

Harry studied Draco's reflection in the glass, resisting the urge to reach out and touch the shimmer. "He never told you did he?"

Draco was the perfect picture of perplexity.

Harry turned. "Did he ever tell you about the Half Blood Prince?"

"Who?"

"He never told you…"

Draco's brows came down as he shook his head.

Harry pushed his hand through his hair and let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He had told Draco so much—quite frankly, everything—except… He chewed his lip and made a decision. The door on the left side of his large desk, banged when he pulled it open. His eyes rose to Draco who watched him closely. He pulled the Potions book out and took it to him, handing it over with a strange sense of guilt. "Look at this."

Draco's brow rose high, and then his eyes dropped to Harry's hand. "It's your sixth year Potions book. What about it?"

Harry pushed forward. "Look at it."

Draco flipped the pages—notation after handwritten notation in the margins jumped off the pages, proclaiming their presence. Harry found himself wondering how he had managed to hide such evidence all year. He swallowed the lump in his throat, waiting for Draco's reaction.

"You cheated." Realization moved over his face and then took root. "You cheated? The Gryffindor Golden Boy?"

Harry flinched. Draco had not called him that since the first day they came together. "Golden Boy git I'll bite you for that…" raged in his head. "Yeah, I cheated. Truth is, I learned more from the Half Blood Prince in one year then in five years of Potions classes with Snape."

Draco snorted, and then focused on a notation that marked up a page to the point of writing being close to the binding. He turned the book and frowned as he read. "Wow," he murmured in awe. "This stuff is…beyond sixth year…" His eyes came up to Harry's, registering surprise.

"Yeah…that isn't the half of it."

Draco's face fell to the book again, hungry for any information he could find in this unexplored source.

"Draco."

"Yeah?" he asked, not looking up.

Harry reached out and took the book. "Draco…"

Draco finally pulled his eyes away from the treasure.

Harry took a deep breath. "This is where I learned Sectumsempra. It's hand written in here. The first time I used it…" He needed more air and to sit—at least this time, his aim wasn't off. "The first time I used it was that day in the boy's bathroom." He held Draco's gaze.

Draco scowled. "But…"

"Draco, I was really stupid. I didn't even know what it would do…then…" His eyes fell to the Potions book. "Your blood was everywhere. It scared the hell outta me…then Snape came in…"

"Yeah?" Draco's voice was wary.

Harry pulled his lip in and bit. The taste of his own blood didn't soothe him. "Draco, he stopped you from bleeding to death."

"I already know that, Harry."

The book made his fingers hurt. He realized he was clasping it so tight that his knuckles were white. "Draco…"

"Harry, what are you trying to say?"

"He was the Half Blood Prince—Snape, I mean."

Draco's perfect brows puckered. "But…"

"He was a half-blood, Draco, but that's not exactly why he called himself Half Blood Prince. You wanna know what my 'why' question is? I want to know why he never told them."

"Told them he was a half-blood?"

Harry leaned forward. "NO. I want to know why he never shared Sectumsempra with the Death Eaters and how to counter it. He stopped you from bleeding to death, Draco." He reiterated his statement firmly and watched as understanding for the reason behind his question came to the surface of Draco's face.

The same abruptness the chair encountered when Draco sat, it encountered when he rose, shock radiated from him. "He never told them. That's why Aunt Bella didn't know how to stop Rodolphus from bleeding. She didn't know…"

"Right."

"Why?"

"Precisely."

""Fuck.""

Harry laughed, even if it was a strange thing to do. He had said that word so many times in Parseltongue that Draco had picked up its nuance perfectly—even when he wasn't in snake form.

Draco grabbed the Potions book. "What else is in here?"

Harry snorted. "Well for starters, when someone has been poisoned, shove a Bezoar Stone down their bloody throat."

Draco sat with a laugh, but then became serious. "Harry, you really have me questioning his motives now."

"Yeah," Harry replied, after all, he had his own issues with Snape. "After he left you in the hospital wing, he came back to the bathroom and told me to go get all of my books. He knew the source of the curse, but wouldn't say. I ran back to Gryffindor tower and switched out Ron's book with mine. Then I hid this one in the Room of Requirement." He sighed and ran his fingers along the binding where Draco had left it open. "After everything happened, I figured I'd just leave it there forever. I couldn't though. I guess I felt a connection to him. Even after I found out that night, Snape was the Half Blood Prince. I just couldn't leave it there."

"Harry, does Dumbledore know about this?"

Harry understood where Draco was taking this. "No. I never told him. Ron and Hermione know."

Draco's brow rose. "Hermione knows and let you get away with it?"

Harry shook his head. "Actually we argued about the Prince all year. She wouldn't tell anyone, but she didn't like it. As to Ron—he liked him until after that night." Harry sighed. The night on the Astronomy Tower was one of the memories Dumbledore had insisted he extract. He rubbed the side of his temple, feeling as though it were injured or scarred.

"So you never told him where you learned the curse, about the book or about Sev never telling the Death Eaters about it. Harry, I'm astounded. I thought you were in the habit of telling him everything."

"No. I already told you, Draco. I never told him."

"Okay. Well, I think you should."

Surprise surged through him. Harry felt his stomach roil angrily and he clenched his fists hard enough to hurt. "No."

"Harry…"

He didn't let Draco finish. The emotions surged up from his gut. The practice vases behind him, ten in all, exploded. With a roar, he spun around and left Draco to clean the mess up.

The Veil, its horrendous history included, waved blackly before him, shivering and whispering its echoes in the large chamber. Harry pulled his brows down as a sense of a memory passed over him in fragments.

Laughter…red light flashing…Sirius ducked…"Come on, you can do better than that!"

Echoes of voices resounded within the cavernous room and Harry's mind…

Harry pulled in a deep breath, closed his eyes and held his hand toward the whispering Veil. "Come in…join us…" the voices, entreated. He shivered, pulling his hand back from the enticement of the unknown.

Another flash of red light…horror ran through Harry, overcoming his very essence… Inside his head, he screamed, "No!"

Sirius' eyes widened, shock registered there… Harry fled down the stairs trying to get to him…only knowing the fear and distance between them…pulling out his wand.

Harry fell to his knees before the Veil. His hair in his fists, felt like a curse of life in this moment in time. He ground his teeth together and tried to control his ragged breathing. ""No,"" he hissed in Parseltongue, finally answering the voices. He didn't know why it came out that way and only wondered for a fleeting moment. He raised his eyes back up to the shimmering monstrosity that had stolen his godfather.

Sirius falling backward in a graceful arc... Here one moment, gone the next.

"SIRIUS!"

No answer.

"SIRIUS!"

"There's nothing you can do, Harry…nothing… He's gone."

A resounding crash exploded on the scene mingled with furious cursing. "Fuck! How the hell is someone… Harry!" Footsteps ran toward him, charging even in their echo. Harry was only vaguely aware of the noises. "Come in…we're waiting…" the voices, whispered. He reached forward, compelled and ready to caress the Veil.

"NO!"

A body propelled itself through the air and the floor came up to meet his head. Or, was it the other way around? Draco was on top of him, shaking him viciously. He tried to grab the fists clutching his shirt to stop the action.

"Stop it, Potter. Are you crazy?"

Harry swung and missed. They rolled, banging heads together and on the floor as they tussled for supremacy. Fists made contact with little effect except to increase fervor. Harry growled from somewhere deep inside. "Get off! I have to go…"

Draco's fist found his jaw.

"Ow!" His head went back and cracked on the stone floor. He groaned in pain and stared up at Draco's bruised and bloody face. "What the fuck did you do that for?" He waited for an answer, watching Draco's face as he tried to get his breathing under control.

Draco leaned down, eyes locked with his. "Are you crazy? Why would you come here and approach that damn thing?"

Harry set his jaw even as Draco's breathing caressing his face brought up urges he didn't want—well, at the moment, anyway. He held Draco's gaze like a vise.

Draco clasped his wrists tightly, still rasping heavily from exertion. "I'm fucking waiting, Potter."

Harry shook his head. "Let me up."

"Not till you tell me why."

Harry closed his eyes to block the vision of Draco. He went inside his mind and tried to find it. It wasn't there. He felt the wetness on his temples, slipping into his hair, but he ignored it. The fact that the memory was gone, leaving an empty place within his brain was poignant in its grief. He sobbed—wrenching from somewhere so primal, he didn't even know it existed before. "It's gone…" he whispered through the tears falling freely now. "The memory, it's gone. I can't believe I gave it away." His body shook to the marrow of his bones. He was only half-aware that Draco pulled him up to sit and held him tight as they huddled against the wall. Wet moments passed, changing Harry forever.

"Harry?"

He pulled away and leaned back against the wall. A shiver journeyed down his spine at the coolness of the contact. Knees pulled up almost to his chest, he stared at the Veil. "It's gone. When I stood before it, parts came back to me. Now, they are gone again." He dropped his head to his knees, wiping the wetness on his jeans.

"Harry, you shouldn't have come here."

He didn't move, or even breathe and he certainly didn't want to think.

"Harry," Draco blew into his ear, and then sent his tongue to caress, followed by soft lips.

He leaned into the sensation, seeking its exquisite power, wanting it to consume him. Draco accepted the move and began to nibble and kiss him along his jaw. Harry arched into him and allowed his hands to explore, looking for smooth skin. "Drac…" he bit and sucked Draco's pulse eagerly, devouring his sweetness. The taste of blood crossed his tongue so he laved tenderly, savoring Draco's appreciative moans.

Draco pushed him back gently onto the floor, hovering over him for a brief moment.

He reached up, touching Draco's split lip. In a feather light movement, he passed his finger across the soft skin of Draco's mouth. Precious though Draco's lips were, partly because of the pleasure they bestowed on him, Harry realized that he must have hit hard during their tussle. Regret welled within as he sent the tip of his tongue out to lick his own lip. "I'm sorry."

Draco leaned into his caress. "You scared the hell outta me. Don't ever do that again."

"Draco…"

"Hummm…?" Draco began nibbling on his neck hungrily, fingers buried within his hair.

"Pretend it's my Birthday…please?"

Draco pulled away from his neck with a groan.

The sudden movement left a cold spot tingling with longing on his skin. Harry locked eyes with him. "Please?" He spread his palms against Draco's chest, feeling his heartbeat. He delved into sterling eyes and arched up. "Draco…"

Draco's face disappeared into his neck again, bringing pleasure along with the return of his tongue.

Harry sent his hands downward, groaned and whispered an incantation. Draco smirked against his now bare skin and pulled away. "You want the full throttle, Potter?"

Harry licked his lip in anticipation. "Screams included."

"It's a rough job…but somebody's gotta…"

"Draco."

"I'm talking here, Potter."

Harry growled and reached for soft blond hair. He pulled Draco to within a breath and said ferociously, "Shut up and kiss me—NOW, Malfoy."

Raging ardent bliss spread through him like wildfire the moment Draco's tongue assaulted him. Harry bit in reciprocation, seeking at the same time to disrobe Draco. He murmured another incantation and Draco's clothes were gone.

Draco gasped at the sudden cool air on his arse and pulled away from Harry. "In a hurr—"

Harry growled and flipped them. He attacked Draco's chest with salacious hunger, spiraling and teasing his nips into hard nubs. He bit with his teeth, ravenous with need, while his hands sought and grasped the tight skin around Draco's cock.

Draco hissed through his teeth and became the aggressor. He clenched Harry's wrist hard. "Let go."

Harry growled.

Draco pulled despite Harry's tight grip. In an onslaught of agony, they both groaned—one when pleasure was ripped away and the other at the loss of such awesome touch. "Potter…"

"I mean it, Draco. I want—"

Draco didn't let him finish. Silk bound his wrists to the dais and his hardened cock disappeared within Draco's succulent mouth. He moaned at the suddenness of the wet embrace, but then plunged upward. Contact with the back of Draco's mouth brought the first primal scream. Ecstasy throbbed through him. He thrust to meet it.

Draco worked him, bearing down on his cock, assailing his perineum with a warming potion that sent him soaring through the clouds. He writhed and sang out his pleasure, thunderstruck by the sensations that should have been routine by now. They weren't. The silk around his wrists tightened as he pulled in an effort to be free. He wanted to feel Draco between his fingers. "Please!"

Draco sucked hard, stirring his heated blood with expertise.

Harry gasped, his body jerking. Absence…astonied at the shear power of it, he screamed, ""Draco!"" The sound of Parseltongue poured out of him. ""Fuck. Don't stop! Drac!""

His voice vanished in Draco's' mouth. He groaned, arching up, tasting his pre-cum on luscious lips and tongue. Draco's rigid cock against his, proved to be unrelenting—thrust for thrust Harry danced with him, breathing in the scents of their fight, passion and now the liquid heat of their white gold. He screamed in primal release as it baptized them with warmth and promise. Harry pulled it all within him through his senses and let go of his old memory while making room for a new one.

AN: Astonied: adj. filled with the emotional impact of overwhelming surprise or shock… I've been playing in the dictionary again. (grin) LL

AN2: Gotta admit, it was hard not to end with a "ppprrrrrrrr…." I miss the Animagus aspect of the plot bunnie. LL (spelled that way on purpose…revenge on the furry little thing…:grin:)

Reviews are like Chocolate Frogs . . .
there is a surprise card in each package.

Let me know what you think. Thank You . . . Blessings. LL

Hi Everyone. Thanks for taking the time to review. I hope I don't get into trouble with FF, but I find I don't like not responding here to my wonderful reviewers. So here goes...

As always, review responses are in the order received. LL

MikaPotter: Hi Mika. I think I love you. :grin: Just kidding. Your comments always provoke thought and I really need that. The unplottable issue has always been very interesting to me. 12 Grimmauld Place is actually the only home in canon that is unplottable (Lexicon). That doesn't mean that Malfoy Manor/Mansion isn't—in fact, I'd say that it is. In my head, I think in terms that #12 needed extra protection (Fidelus Charm) despite the added wards of Sirius' family because all the notorious family members and Death Eaters knew where it is. The mindset of Purebloods is that they are royalty, (They aren't, just think it) therefore the Malfoys would be ranked high. That means a very complex social life—which in my mind means parties, visitors, etc. Death Eaters would be present at those parties and even meetings. (What is really under the Drawing room floor? See what you do to me? I'll probably have to write my wonki thoughts on that question.) Actually, extra wards and being unplottable would open the door of Malfoy Manor to much naughtiness on the part of Voldemort and his followers. :-) Thanks for reviewing. Blessings Always. LL

Mis-HD: Hi. Your comments help to make my day, too. Thanks. You're worried about what Narcissa will do with a rock?(:grin:) That's just another of my plot bunny's evil ploy to encourage readers to notice my stories. (That and the delicious hot sex. :-) Narcissa won't do anything that will harm Draco and she really doesn't like Wormtail so let's let him be a rock for awhile. (cackling, I'm wicked.) This next chapter is really wonki—hope you enjoy it… Thanks as always for reviewing. Blessings. LL

Natasha Aka: Tash: Hi Tash. …hold on… Dear Breathless & Urging for More, Thank you for your review. I hope you enjoy this next segment of SU&KM. (giggle—just playing and panting) This chapter really came out wonki and fast. Sometimes I wonder where it all comes from, but then I just have to write it the way it comes. Thanks so much for your awesome review. Blessings Always…You are still Golden. LL

Burnfaster: Hi. You read my stuff at work? Wow, you're brave! (giggle) I love it when someone tells me they enjoy my writing—why? Because it helps me to keep everything in perspective. I once told a writing mentor that I used "purr" and gave new meaning to the word. People all over the world enjoy that word in a different light now and I feel that I contributed something to my reader's enjoyment. She harrumphed firmly and said "You can get away with that in fanfiction." I say, HAH! I LOVE FANFICTION and that's why writing is so much fun. It's a way to share with the world. If I can make somebody tingle with excitement, lust or even laugh, then I gave something, which I never thought possible before. The next time you get a weird look at work—WINK and give them an ornery grin for me. Have a great day and thanks for reviewing. Blessings & "ppprrrrrrrr…." LL

Korricks: Hugs…hugs…hugs…THANK YOU FOR THE TRANSLATION. You are super! I've never had faith in the online translators. In Beauty, the Gaelic is wrong in one of the chapters even though I got the name of the book straight from a Gaelic website. When I went to double-check it after a reader told me it was wrong—the book's notation was no longer there. (It was an actual title of a book.) Anyway, I went in and changed all of my copies here and online to your translation. You are absolutely super. (Yeah, I'll say it again.) Blessings. LL

MsElricAikoThank you for all three of your reviews. The only rule here is: If you are confused or have a question—ASK. I love questions and if there is something you don't understand, I can go in and fix it. We both benefit from it. If it's a personal question, I'll pm you. Thanks again. Blessings. LL

DemonRogue: Trouble? (giggle) You are a dear. I always seem to write complications in Harry and Draco's lives. I love them and I still do that to them. (sigh) Rec'in that makes for the opportunity for lots of yum in contrast. About the email—glad to be of help. Like I said there are no stupid questions. And I've already worked to corrupt a whole generation of Harry Potter fans anyway. (grins wickedly while cackling over this Cauldron of Craziness called Toshiba.) Thanks for reviewing. Blessings Always. LL

Blanket Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. and all other characters within Potter World do not belong to me. No infringement is intended. I am making no money here; just having fun. Kudos and blessings to the literary genius JKR.