~Chapter Forty~ Realisations
"Harry? Can I have a minute?" Hermione waited as Harry finished off the list of instructions for the Hit Squad teams and sent them off into the department with a tap of his wand.
"Yes, Hermione, of course. What is it?"
A knock came at the door as Hermione made to speak, and Harry shot her an apologetic glance.
"Come in!"
The door opened to admit Ainsley, one of Harry's top Aurors.
"Report, sir."
Harry glanced back to Hermione. "Sorry, Hermione. Do you mind if I–?"
"No, go ahead, it can wait." Hermione waved a hand, settling back against the edge of her desk as Ainsley moved in with a nod, and began updating Harry on the latest information from the various teams.
She listened at first, vaguely following the flow of the conversation. There was nothing extraordinary to report. The trails suspected to be the Lestranges had fallen cold, none of those under Ministry protection had been targeted, no evidence of suspicious activity in the usual Dark underground trade. She began to tune out the drone of information, eyes half focussed on the folded copy of the Prophet sticking out of Ainsley's pocket.
It was opened onto the daily crossword, which Ainsley seemed to have partially filled in. Hermione began reading the clues, scanning the blank and filled in squares.
"Four across…" she muttered, frowning. "To restore or revitalise. Eleven letters." Ainsley already had a C, T, and two R's filled in.
"What was that, Hermione?" Harry peered around Ainsley, the two men glancing at her.
Hermione flushed. "Sorry. I noticed your crossword." She indicated the paper. "I was just thinking…thinking?" She trailed away, the letters and clue spinning in her mind, pieces of the puzzle falling into place.
"Hermione?" Harry asked again.
Hermione's eyes widened, and she spun on the spot, seizing the notes where she had been working on the letters from the bodies from her desk and scrawling out the answer to the crossword, matching them up with the letters from the recent group.
Harry and Ainsley had come to peer over her shoulder to see what she was up to, confused and curious, and she almost elbowed them both in the stomachs as she lifted the page, the full message of the bodies spelled out in shaky capitals.
WE ARE RESURRECTED
"Harry…"
Harry's green eyes were wide, staring at the words. "You're sure there's no other combination?"
Hermione gulped and nodded.
Harry swiftly turned to Ainsley. "Come back and see me after lunch. Not a word of this. To anyone. Understand?"
Ainsley nodded sharply. "Yes, sir."
The moment he had marched out of the door, Harry was by the fire, flinging a handful of powder into the flames and shouting Draco's address into the hearth. Hermione tore her eyes off him back to the page, frantically running the various permutations of the letters, trying to find any other word that might fit.
Within minutes, Draco had arrived, coming in through the door, his expression calm and collected until the door was shut behind him.
"Where is it? Let me see."
Hermione wordlessly turned and showed him the paper. Draco leant over the desk, frowning, eyes darting over the letters and the available pool of them, running his own checks.
"Well?" Harry waited, allowing them both to do their thing, nervous of what answer he might get back.
Draco straightened, and a deep, deep exhaustion dragged on his features. "Hermione isn't wrong. It's the only thing that fits whilst making sense."
Harry's hands went to his face and then up into his hair. "OK. OK, OK." He cast about for a moment. "So. Resurrection. Right."
"It's not Voldemort." Hermione said quickly. "It can't be. You said so yourself, Harry. You went to the Tom Riddle's grave. It's not been disturbed since. You said so."
Harry sighed and shrugged. "I could have been wrong, Hermione. There could have been another way we don't know about. We can't ignore something as blatant as this." He gestured defeatedly towards the message that seemed to glare up at them all from the table.
"We won't ignore it, Harry." Hermione said, fighting for calm and logic even as her own mind attempted to rebel and panic. "But we don't need to take it at face value. It's perfectly possible that this is just meant to freak us out. To make us panic and make a mistake. And this says we. Voldemort was many things, but he was never a we."
Draco sighed, his nostrils flaring as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "She's right, Potter. Panic helps no one. It only harms us. And it can't be Vol–be Him. My Mark hasn't burned black."
Hermione chewed her lip, catching the reflexive twitch of Draco's hand as he mentioned the Mark, but said nothing.
Harry nodded slowly, collecting himself, his hands leaving his head, his hair still on end. "All right. So. We have a message. Which may or may not be legitimate. Right."
Hermione and Draco nodded.
"Are we certain Bellatrix never made any horcruxes?" Harry asked.
Draco sighed. "We can't be certain. But I'll ask my mother. She would be like Him. She'd want something. A Black family heirloom to bind her soul to. It's the only thing. If anything went missing, my mother would be the first to realise."
Harry nodded, his sense of calm increasing as they began to regain control of the situation. "Right. So, possibility one, return of the Death Eaters – Bellatrix resurrected from a horcrux, as our key suspect. Possibility two – it's a ploy to make us panic, and they've gone to extreme lengths to point the finger at Bellatrix." He huffed. "If they want us to panic, this is a gamble, and the most incredible red herring. There was no way we could have put the message together until now." He paused, glancing to Hermione. "Unless we're missing more words?"
Hermione shrugged helplessly. "I can't say, Harry. It could be complete. It could continue."
"Message." Draco said firmly. "You said it yourself, Potter. If there's one thing we do know about this murderer, they're showy. They want to send a message. This is a performance. Maybe they have something further in mind. The Ministry and wizarding community panicking would surely make certain things easier to achieve any number of things. It's a gamble, sure, but if they're willing to wait for us to realise…if it's something that can keep…" Draco glanced between them, concern in his grey eyes. "We should be worried. Very worried."
Hermione nodded. "I very much doubt they're finished yet. There's no point in going to the trouble of sending a message like this and then not doing anything. It has to serve some purpose."
"Is announcing yourself as the successor to the Dark Lord enough of a purpose?" Draco asked drily.
Hermione sighed. "I don't know. It's possible. But I don't think you're wrong in saying there could be some other agenda at work here."
Harry nodded. "Better to assume there's an additional purpose to showboating. You don't grab the spotlight, announce your presence, and then fade back into obscurity."
"There's one other thing." Draco added. "This…resurrection. I've been looking into the uses of blood. Magical blood. We used plenty of it in ordinary potions at Hogwarts, but it was the less controversial types. In general, it's a powerful restorative for some Dark magic. Like how unicorn blood can be used to sustain a person. Blood crops up over and over in curses and cures. It's all through the Dark grimoire, even in the Light. And it was blood that protected you from Him." Draco glanced to Harry. "Blood is all the power you could possibly muster in a single ingredient."
Harry and Hermione's eyes widened.
"You think…you think that's what the bloodless seven was about?" Hermione whispered. "That's why they were…"
"Exsanguinated? Yes." Draco's expression was grim. "I've been reading notes on the case. One of the biggest differences is that they were all witches and wizards. If I needed a huge amount of magical blood, for some hideous potion, draining it from witches and wizards is a fairly convenient way of getting it. I need hardly explain the significance of seven." He glanced between them. "If there's one thing we can be fairly sure of, it's that they aren't using resurrected by chance. I think someone or something has been brought back. Not Voldemort. Not necessarily even Bellatrix. But whatever it or they are, we already know two things about them: they're powerful and they're ruthless."
Hermione nodded. Together she and Draco turned to Harry. He had silently taken in all the information, and it was clear he was thinking hard.
"First thing's first – this can't get out to the public. We don't know that this is a new dark lord yet. I want to keep that information under wraps until we at least have confirmation. Even once we have it, if it's true, the panic is going to be unbelievable." He sighed again, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses. It was clear that it was far from the news he might have wished for. "And Kingsley needs to be informed." Harry began to pace, business-like once more, ticking things off as he spoke. "Malfoy – find out if there's any possible chance that this is Bellatrix. Even if it's a longshot, we need to rule it out. They have her wand. The spells are in her wheelhouse. Particularly with the rumours about the Lestrange brothers being seen, we can't take the chance."
Draco nodded.
"Also, both of you see what else you can dig up on resurrection rituals, potions, anything. We need to know who or what we're dealing with. If we can narrow down what they might have done, it could give us a clue about who or what they are, and any motives as well as potential locations to start searching. We need to find them before this gets any further out of hand. Thus far we have been focussing on preventing the murders, but we're always a step behind. We need to get ahead. They've shown their hand. Let's try and get an advantage out of it. We need to go for them, and them alone. The Aurors will take care of general protection – our focus is to find this person." He paused, then met their eyes, his own grim. "Enough people have died already."
Draco nodded again, exchanging a faint grimace with Hermione.
"We'll get on it at once."
"This is hopeless."
"Oh come now, Granger, that's not like you."
Hermione shot Draco a quelling glare over the piles of papers that lay between them on the kitchen island. A half empty bottle of wine stood like a lighthouse in the sea of papers, very slightly taking the edge off the stress and urgency they both felt about the situation, but like the bottle, they were swiftly being submerged by the topic.
Although Harry's directive had been received and understood by them both, the urgency of their adjusted focus did little to change the facts of the situation they faced. No matter what way they looked at the facts they had, there was no disguising the fact that they had little to go on.
Harry had assigned a team from the Magical Forensics Squad to revisit the locations of the attacks, scouring them for the slightest hint or clue that might help, and Aurors were patrolling the streets, Muggle and Wizarding alike, alert for any disturbance, magical or otherwise. There had been precious little found. The Muggles were as anxious as the Wizarding folk were, both societies on the lookout for any trace of the unknown mass-murderer that might be walking in their midst.
After reading the case notes and examining files and grisly photos until their eyes were bloodshot and raw, with none of it turning up anything, Harry had pushed them both back onto magical research. It was the third day since figuring out the anagram, and they weren't getting closer to narrowing down a specific resurrection ritual or potion. There were many that almost fit their criteria, but none that perfectly matched. Even with Draco's existing notes from the Dark grimoire, they were still struggling.
Draco had gone to see his mother the same day of the discovery, and although Narcissa had been told the very bare minimum for secrecy, Draco had known from the expression in her eyes that she had realised the full meaning of his question. She had told him that, to her knowledge, none of the Black family heirlooms were missing, but she had promised to recheck, and let him know. Many items had been seized by the Ministry at various points, and Harry had rushed through a priority inventory request, which had been sent through to the Manor the very next day. Since then, there had been silence.
A research routine had already been established. Mornings, afternoons, and evenings all blended together with stacks of books and notes passing before their increasingly tired eyes. Narcissa had managed to find a few grisly tomes in the Malfoy library, sending them over, and the more they read, the more the piles seemed to grow rather than diminish.
With whatever stimulants they could get their hands on, Draco and Hermione continued to pull back-to-back all-nighters, struggling desperately to find an answer to the case. Each night, they worked until Hermione fell asleep on their research, and each night Draco, the last one standing, wavering with exhaustion, would carry her sleeping form upstairs to the guest room, then go to sleep himself for a few hours before dawn saw the whole cycle start all over again.
"I know!" Hermione growled, angrily stabbing her quill at the page as she noted down yet another potion in their related column. The sharp tip poked through, leaving a large ink blot on the page and the one behind. They had divided their notes into three columns – 'possible', 'close', 'related', and 'of interest'. So far the related and of interest columns had them covering feet of parchment, and their possible and related columns remained frustratingly blank.
Hermione scowled at the torn paper and the blot and resisted the urge to tear the whole section out.
Draco watched her closely, dark rings below his eyes the same as below hers. "Look, maybe we should take a break."
"No!"
"We should eat dinner."
"Not yet!"
"Granger."
"What?!" Hermione rounded on him, her eyes red and puffy with sleep deprivation and frustration. She met Draco's eyes, patient and understanding through the exhaustion, and felt thoroughly ashamed. "I'm sorry. I…I didn't mean to snap."
"I know." Draco got up, reaching to help her off the stool. "Let's get some glamour charms on, and go and eat."
Hermione's face creased. "Draco, I really don't feel up to a restaurant. I just can't face–"
"Who said anything about a restaurant?" Draco continued to guide her out of the room and away from the paperwork. "There's a very reputable kebab shop a few blocks over. I hear all the, er, Muggle "lads" frequent it after a night out."
Hermione stared at him then laughed despite herself. "We've hardly been out partying."
"Maybe so, but I feel like I've got a hangover, so it's good enough." Draco smirked slightly, pleased to see the edge of her responding grin.
It took them a few attempts to get the charms working well enough that they wouldn't be mistaken for junkies, the magic far more difficult when they were so tired, and even once they were out and walking down the street, arms linked and propped up against each other, it was an effort.
"Thank you, Draco." Hermione sighed, closing her eyes briefly as they walked.
"You're welcome. Can I know what I'm being thanked for?"
Hermione smirked and swatted him lightly, forcing her eyes open, fearing she would never open them again and instead sleep for fifty hours. She felt more than heard the rumble of Draco's chuckle. "For being so terribly reliable." She turned her face towards him, smiling through the haze of exhaustion, and patted him lightly on the chest. "You're rather good…for a Slytherin."
Draco's slight frown vanished as he laughed properly at that, and managed to summon enough energy for mock outrage. "Slytherins and Gryffindors again! Will I never escape school?"
It was Hermione's turn to quietly chuckle, and she lurched, mis-stepping on the edge of the curb, and Draco's arms swiftly came around her, steadying her before she could fall or twist her ankle.
"Are you OK?"
His face was very close to hers, his grey eyes questioning, alert despite his own tiredness, anxious.
"I…uh, um. Yes. Thank you." Hermione stared back. "Maybe it's the wine." She laughed slightly.
The corners of Draco's eyes crinkled and he leant back, pulling her upright. "I wasn't aware you were a light weight."
"I beg your pardon!" Hermione couldn't help but giggle. "You've never seen me drink!"
"Um, excuse you, I most certainly have. Monte Rosa. Every restaurant we've ever been to."
Hermione rolled her eyes as they continued walking. "That's not the same as properly drinking."
"Ah I see. You know, I don't think I'd be alone in saying that I never picked you as a clubber."
Hermione snorted. "I'm not. As a general rule. But it doesn't mean I've never been out."
"Uh huh. Forgive me if I put that claim to the test at some point."
"I'll gladly see you eat your words."
"Mmhm." Draco turned towards her, coming to a stop. "You better make good on your promise, Granger." They were just outside a kebab shop, the smell of roasting meat wafting out along with the sound of cooking and the men inside talking.
Hermione stopped leaning against Draco, and for a moment felt her head spin as she looked up at him. He was still standing very close, watching her intently with his familiar smirk on his face. She had learned to understand his smirks in all their different types. This was cheeky. She hadn't seen it much before this new friendship. It was far more welcome than any of his other ones.
"Well? Lost for words? Or scared of the challenge?" Draco was grinning now, his eyes dancing.
Hermione scoffed. "I have never backed down from a challenge in my life! I'll drink you under the table."
"I'll hold you to that."
Hermione felt herself wavering on the spot, although whether it was exhaustion or something else, she couldn't say. She sucked in a deep breath, and all she could smell was his cologne. His eyes were still locked on hers, the grin still lifting the corner of his mouth, and as she stared, teetering slightly towards him, the look in their grey depths changed from teasing to questioning. Hermione could feel her heart thumping, heat in her cheeks, and for a moment all the exhaustion and fear of the past few days vanished. She leant a little closer.
"Hey man, are you goin' in there or what?"
Hermione and Draco leapt apart at the loud, London interruption, and quickly demurred, making space for the Muggle man to head in before them. Hermione could feel herself blushing and hoped that the charms concealed it. Draco shot her another grin, and then gestured her in, following.
Despite her best efforts, Hermione was struggling to concentrate on the books in front of her. It wasn't the grisly details of the potions, the late hour, or even the fact that they had been doing the same thing for almost seventy-two hours straight.
We've kissed loads of times. What are you thinking?
She turned a page, and tried to concentrate on the ingredients for a potion that proclaimed it could resurrect the recently deceased.
It wasn't even a kiss. Why are you getting so worked up over a not-kiss?
Her eyes drifted down to the next potion. One that assured readers it would kill any magical infestation you could care to name.
You're just tired. You're not thinking straight. He was just joking around. Exhaustion is getting the better of you.
She turned the next page, barely even wrinkling her nose when something scuttled out and over the table.
"Earth to Granger?"
Hermione jumped. Draco was staring at her, his expression somewhere between bemused and confused.
"You OK?"
"That's Muggle."
"What?"
"What you said. Before. Earth to Granger. It's a Muggle reference."
Draco's confusion deepened. "Yes, well, I have troubled to learn some small degree about Muggles. You know this. Are you OK? You just seemed…a bit out of it."
Hermione blinked, and waved a hand. "I'm fine. Just…hazy."
"You sure you don't want to head to bed early? At the very least you'd feel fresher tomorrow. You know Potter wants to see us in the Ministry. Passing out in the Floo won't be fun."
"No." Hermione shook her head firmly, and then stopped when it made her brain feel like it was being rattled. "No. I'm staying down here. I can get in a few more chapters yet."
"If you're sure…"
Draco didn't sound convinced, but he didn't labour the point.
Hermione took a steadying breath, forcing thoughts of earlier in the day out of her head, and dragging her mind back to the task at hand. Now wasn't the time.
Hermione woke to a sense of weightlessness. The feeling was nice, and incredibly welcome. Somehow, for some reason, it was like she was floating through the air. She had flown before, ridding on Hippogriffs and hung onto a dragon, white knuckled every flying lesson with Madam Hooch. None of it had been enjoyable. It had always been terrifying.
This was different. Something warm and solid was supporting her. Carrying her through the air. She felt safe. Safer than she ever had when flying. Safer than most of the time she spent with her feet planted on the ground.
A familiar spiced citrus scent filled her nostrils, and she smiled faintly although she couldn't remember why. It contributed to the sense of safety and security. She let out a soft sigh, quite content to remain in the liminal space of floating warmth and scent for the rest of her life.
"Hermione?"
She knew that voice. Her eyes opened with a struggle, and Draco was peering down at her, cautious and faintly apologetic. The hall lights were off, the only illumination coming in from the long window at the front that opened onto the staircase. By moonlight and streetlamps the grey of his eyes was like a swirling basin of silver.
"Sorry, did I wake you?"
"No…no, it's fine." She swallowed, trying to make her mouth feel less dry. "What time is it?"
"A little bit past three."
"Oh." Hermione became aware that she was in Draco's arms, securely held as he had brought her up the stairs, the pair of them on the landing. "Draco…"
Somehow, he knew what she wanted. He carefully set her down. She wobbled slightly as her legs took her weight, the feeling of gravity so foreign after the place she had inhabited between sleeping and waking in his arms, and he steadied her with a hand to her elbow.
She looked up into his eyes, watching him for a moment. He said nothing, returning her examination, questions and thoughts in his eyes that she felt sure were the same in her own. She could feel her heart thumping in her chest, blood in her ears, her breathing heavy and ragged. Draco seemed no less composed, time suspended between them, waiting.
We all die eventually anyway. Why not now?
Hermione closed her eyes, and leaned forwards, her hands coming to rest on Draco's chest. His lips met hers gently in the darkness. She could sense he was as tentative as she was, the pair of them only just teetering into the kiss. It felt like it was the first time. Every kiss that had gone before suddenly felt put on, overdone. They had been for the purpose of the charade. For the audience they were always banking on having. This was the first one that was just for them. It felt right.
Hermione felt herself sigh with homecoming, and Draco pressed closer, his hands moving to her waist and lower back, each of them sinking further into the moment.
Then his hands suddenly tightened, and he pulled away, leaving her feeling bereft and lonely.
"Draco, what–?"
"I can't." His hands remained tight on her waist, his grasp firm but not painful, as though he was putting all his effort into simply not kissing her. His head was down, breathing harsh and heavy, and he refused to meet her gaze.
Hermione stared at him. She could feel confusion and hurt swiftly rising in her chest at his behaviour. "What is it? I don't understand."
"I… You… You're too good for me." He swallowed thickly. "I'll…I'll taint you. Your life. I'll ruin it." He rasped out another breath, and with a great effort released his grasp on her. "It's better if we don't."
Hermione took his left arm before he could get out of her reach. He stilled the moment she touched him. His arm was rigid in her hands, his fingers clenched in a fist. Gently, she stroked his fingers, waiting until they relaxed and unfurled, and then she rolled up his sleeve. She could feel him shaking, resisting the temptation to tear his arm out of her grip, and he shuddered as his Mark was revealed.
It was still welted and angry, and it glared up at her. Hermione bent over his arm, and pressed a kiss over it. When she looked up Draco was staring at her, too many emotions in his eyes to read. Hermione felt bravery surging in her like a madness, stoking up her audacity, her nerve, sending her forging onward.
"I know who you are. I know what you are. I know what you've done, and why you've done it." Hermione met his gaze levelly. "I accept all of it. All of you. I see you for the man you now are, rather than the boy you once were. Draco…please…see yourself as I see you. Let me in."
Draco let out a shuddering sigh, closing his eyes. His arm was still in her grasp, her cool fingers bringing relief to the inflamed skin the way nothing else did. He could still feel the imprint of her lips over the hideous Mark, and for the first time in years, the skin felt more like his own. "I let you in a long time ago, Hermione." The words came out hoarse, sat on for longer than he knew. "You're under my skin like no one else."
He opened his eyes, meeting her shining gaze. She looked just as brilliant and magnificent as ever. The Mark couldn't taint her. Nothing could.
They came crashing together in a kiss that they had been resisting for weeks. Hands grasped at clothing and flesh urgently, and the warmth of their bodies together in the cool corridor felt like it could stave off even the harshest winter.
Draco pulled back once more, gasping like a man coming up for air. "Are you sure? Hermione, please. Be sure."
"I'm sure." Hermione pressed her forehead against his, pulling him closer to her, sharing the same breath. "Believe me, I've been sure longer than I let myself know."
"It's not just because you're tired. Because of wine. Because–" His hands were in her hair, like it was too much effort to stop holding her whilst he spoke.
"Hush." She placed a finger over his anxiously questioning mouth. "Yes, I'm tired. Yes, we had wine hours ago. It's not because of that. It's because…because finally I'm sick of pretending I don't feel this way about you. I want to be honest. I want you."
Draco's mouth met hers mere seconds after she finished speaking, the kiss he pressed to her lips like a wordless pledge.
"And you, Draco?" Hermione pulled back despite wanting him to continue. "Are you sure?"
"Yes. I have no reservations. I gave you the power to unmake me before I ever realised I had. And I don't regret it. I'll never regret it."
Hermione pressed kisses to his lips, each one a promise. Draco responded, gentle learning moments that swiftly led to something deeper, more passionate, something they hadn't allowed themselves to go near the entire duration of the charade. It was a precipice they had been standing on for weeks, teetering on the edge, and they fell gladly into it together, letting what lay below consume them.
The feelings they had each denied, ignored, and suppressed rose up, threatening to swamp them as they rode the wave of release, giddy from the high of finally doing what each of them had wished to for so long, making their way blindly down the corridor and into Draco's room. They shed clothes as they went, buttons pinging off the balls, and in his room Draco guided Hermione to the edge of his bed.
They were both breathing heavily, eyes bright, dark shadows beneath their eyes.
"Hermione…I'm afraid I…I can't…" His pale cheeks were flushed, even by moonlight, and his eyes were apologetic.
Hermione nodded, understanding, leaning forwards and cupping his face with her hands, pulling him closer. "It's OK. We're both exhausted. Don't worry."
They kissed, Draco on his knees between her legs, a willing supplicant to this woman for however long she would have him. Then Hermione was pulling him back with her onto the bed, both of them discarding what clothes remained as hands and mouths explored new places, learning. Tentative, gentle touches slowly became hotter, more heated, moans and sighs filling the house as they gave in to each other and the feeling of rightness.
Soooooooooooooooooooooooooo. That happened.
I honestly did not think I would get this chapter up in time. Life has suddenly become extremely hectic and busy between things popping up and trying to get my queries in order to start sending out (not to mention the literal WAR that has broken out), so I truly thought I wouldn't get this out to you guys until March. I haven't really had time to tweak and refine it as much as I would like, but hopefully that hasn't affected it too much. I was really keen to try and get this out to you, because I'm probably going to have to take at least the next two months out of updating whilst I get a bunch of things sorted out and get these queries done and start sending them out. I promise I will try to come back as quickly as possible, but it's hard to estimate how long it might take me.
Now, onto the chapter. It's a bit of a long one, but I figured that wouldn't be a bad thing haha.
What do we think of the revelation about the anagrams? Are they right? Who could be resurrected? I would love to read all and any speculations you might have! I won't say too much because I don't want to give anything away.
And of course, the real elephant in the room. Draco and Hermione finally crossed the line. Good God you have been waiting for this a long time. Thank you for your patience on the slowest of slow burns! When I originally envisaged this moment it was a lot more of an "instinctual knowledge of rightness" + passionate sex kind of moment, but given all the surrounding context of their exhaustion and fear, that just didn't feel quite so right any more. I'm also a huge fan of explicit consent being written into literature, and normalising dudes not being able to perform, so that also influenced a bit of how that scene turned out. That said, I still really love what I ended up writing, and I hope you do too!
With everything going on in the world right now, as weird as it feels to be posting and sharing things, I hope this can bring some lightness and relief to anyone who needs it. Even if it's an escape into reading just for ten minutes. Stay safe out there!
Please do review and/or favourite :) Tell me what you like or don't like :) Questions and speculations are always welcome :D As is incomprehensible flailing if that's what you go in for :)
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