Title: Rebirth
Author: darchangel
Chapter: 02 – Dead End
Summary: set post-HBP After the Hogwarts incident, Draco fled—he didn't care where he would go, as long as no one could find him. When he nearly dies, a Muggle girl takes care of him. But it's Draco Malfoy—will he let her?
WARNING: HBP SPOILERS! Do not read if you haven't read the book! Readers, ye be warned!
Disclaimers: I don't own Draco (too bad, though), Harry Potter or any of the plot that happened before the story. I do own Anne and the rest of the characters appearing and that's awesome! LOL.
The plot, characters and bands mentioned are fictional. Any resemblance to actual people and bands is entirely coincidental.
Author's Notes:
Sorry it took so long. I let it go almost a month straight without setting my fingers on my keyboard! Gomenasai! ( sorry in Japanese) For some strange reason, transitional chapters like this one are harder to write than the actual plot chapters. Anyway, there are answers to all the reviews from the first chapter at the end of this chapter… :) Just scroll past the text.
1. As was the case in the previous chapter, forgive me for any anachronisms I might make. No doubt the iPod is one… Were iPods around in the '90s? Ffshuu… Anyway.
2. A standard-procedure A/N: the POVs (Points Of View) will change from time to time, and I won't say anything like "Draco's POV". Work it out yourself, you're a smart audience!
Oh, and italics mean THOUGHTS. Just in case you were wondering.
3. "xXx" indicates a significant change, like a very important POV change or time that has passed, maybe a flashback or whatever. I'm going to be using this from now on instead of horizontal bars, they mess up my story layout, lol.
4. I know, this chapter is almost twice as long as the first one… But I think it is okay. The length I mean. Lol. Again, feel free to ask any questions regarding the characters or whatever... And expect a lengthy chapter three. Although I don't know if it's going to be as lengthy as this one... :)
Enjoy the reading… thumbs up and thanks for all your comments! )
xXx
"Annie, could you please take these to Dr Connors upstairs?"
"Uh, sure Ruth."
Anne received the large stack of papers and left the St Nicholas Hospital reception desk, heading towards the elevators used by doctors and nurses down the hall. The door was closing, a nurse squeezed in…
"WAIT!" Anne wailed, and tried to run (although the stack in her hands was rather huge).
The door was held open for a moment, and Anne made it in without dropping the papers she was holding, panting slightly.
"Thank you," Anne whispered, but no one in the elevator so much as smiled or nodded. Anne really hated it when people avoided communication just like that, with no apparent reason. But she couldn't do anything about it; "people are people," that's what her father used to tell her.
Two nurses were muttering at the very back of the elevator, obstructed from Anne's eyesight by a cardboard box someone was carrying. Anne wasn't particularly interested in gossip, but she heard a specific combination of words that immediately grasped her attention.
"That blond boy is driving me mad…"
"What blond boy?"
"That kid who tried to kill himself this morning."
Anne tried to keep herself from turning around, but at the same time strained to listen to the whispered conversation.
"Why?" asked the second nurse. The first one exhaled heavily; Anne could easily visualise her rolling her eyes and shaking her head like an old spinster—she wasn't that old, but she had this attitude of whining and complaining about everything under the sun… She drove everyone nuts.
"He calls me names, speaks so rudely… Not just me, poor Nancy Preston from the Toxicology lab, he nearly pulled all her hair off her head! It's like he's Prince Charles or something!"
"Well, Prince Charles isn't that rude!" protested her friend.
"I know that, but he also happens to own the country! This boy, he acts as if he owns the whole bloody Kingdom!"
Some people shifted uneasily in their positions at this outburst, but no one reacted. Moments later the elevator binged! and the doors opened for everyone to file out.
Anne felt her stomach clench. The boy she had found this morning—so it was a BOY, not a MAN!—seemed to be a real pain… for everyone. She bit her lower lip; what the hell is going on? she thought as the doors slid open and everyone started to file out. Who is he? What's he doing here?
Lost in her thoughts, Anne left the elevator with a grim expression on her face. The pack of papers in her arms felt heavier by the second, and she focused on carrying out what she'd been told to do; there would be time to deal with the boy… eventually. There was something mysterious about him; there was no doubt about that.
A doctor rushed past her, his white robes billowing behind him. As he noticed her, he spun around.
"Annie!"
"Yes, Dr Michaels?"
"You found that boy this morning, right?"
"Yes, sir," said Anne, looking troubled. That boy again!
"Did you catch his name?"
Anne thought for a moment. "Um… No," she said finally, "he didn't really say anything."
"Oh," said Dr Michaels, baffled. "We don't know anything about him; he won't tell us anything about his ID. We figured he's some sort of a runaway, but the police said they don't have anyone reported as missing with his description…"
Anne looked a bit sceptical, and Dr Michaels dismissed her as he continued towards the far end of the hallway where the ER was.
"Never mind, Annie," he said loudly looking over his shoulder at her, "We'll work it out!"
The girl stood there still thinking, the heavy pack of papers still in her hands.
You mean I'll work it out; she thought determinedly and looked around. She had to find Dr Connors, deliver the papers to him, and then—
"Watch where you're going! What are you, b—oh, it's you Annie!"
Absent-minded as she was, she had accidentally bumped into Dr Connors himself.
"Oh! I'm so sorry… I wasn't looking—"
"Never mind," he smiled, "there's nothing to worry about."
Dr Connors was a very attractive man; nurses whispered in dark, dusty corners of the hospital that he was the best-looking man walking around that God-forsaken place. His ebony hair fell casually over his forehead, and his sparkling blue eyes captivated the hearts of many women inside and outside the hospital. He seemed to be much attuned with himself, and that's why he always hit on everything female under the age of 40 that moved. Including Anne.
"So… How's your life?" he said, almost winking at her.
Anne looked Dr Connors in the eyes. She wasn't the type of person who would blush and giggle when a handsome man hit on her; the thing is, he was a man, and she was still a girl. That, she knew very well. Even in the extravagant case that Dr Connors actually liked her, this would never turn out well for her. And she wasn't one to shut up about it either.
"My life is fine, Dr Connors, and yours?"
"Oh, how many times have I told you to call me David?"
"Ever since I came here, Dr Connors, and you'll continue to tell me until it's etched in your head that I'm seventeen years old."
"Oh, come on, Annie! We're just talking here!"
"Just talking can go way too far if you keep that charm turned on. Go find someone your age, for crying out loud."
"Do I look that old?"
"You're not twenty, that's for sure."
"Very well, as you wish. I never said anything though."
"You try too hard not to be too obvious. I might be young, but I know how you think."
"You're a smart one, aren't you?"
"One has to try."
"True enough." He smiled again, but this time it was genuine. This spunk that Anne showed was truly intriguing. She's playing hard-to-get… I like that.
"Anyway, what's this tower you're carrying?" he said, showing interest towards the pile Anne had been holding all this time.
"It's actually for you, Dr Connors," Anne replied with a smug grin, expecting his reaction.
"For me!" he said, taken aback and forgetting all about the Dr Connors he seemed to dislike so much—he'd probably prefer it if that daunting package was meant for someone else rather than himself.
"Yes, Ruth told me to give it to you."
"Is that so?" he smiled uncomfortably. "Well then, I should unload you from this burden!" he said and received the pile from Anne, who was very much relieved to be rid of it. Dr Connors winked at her once more and zoomed off towards his office.
Now… she thought, turning around towards the other end of the corridor where the elevators were. Time to shed some light on our mystery guy.
xXx
Avoiding any kind of hospital authority was not an easy thing to do; Anne, as a volunteer, had to answer to almost everyone in St. Nicholas' with a permanent job. It was only her and one older girl who did volunteer work this summer, and they were given a number of things to do—sometimes low-rank nurses tried to exploit them and make them do their work, but Anne didn't mind; working at the hospital was her lifelong dream. However she couldn't afford to lose any more time today. Walking with her head down, not looking people in the eyes, secretively headed towards the blond boy's room (where she had passed by earlier today, witnessing the boy's alarmingly hostile behaviour). Stopping outside the room, Anne peeked inside.
There he was, lying on his bed, looking away towards something Anne couldn't see from where she was standing. The auburn-haired girl noticed how handsome the boy was, since it was the first time she got a proper look at him since she had rescued him: he had light blond hair that fell elegantly above his mysterious, gray eyes; his body seemed very slender and fit—the bit of chest that lay uncovered by the white linen sheets of the hospital was lined with scars, only deeper than the scar on his face. His entire left forearm was wrapped in a white linen bandage. His expression was grim and maybe sad but determined. Having just yelled at another couple of nurses, he looked somewhat calmed down.
There's no better time than now, Anne thought. Let's do it already!
And she stepped hesitantly into the blond boy's room, her heart pounding like crazy against her chest.
xXx
Draco was gazing outside the window, where a small garden was being kept for the patients' rehabilitation. There were tree branches brushing against the panel, and the sun made the leaves glow with a bright, summery colour, almost yellow. He had apparently been brought to some sort of a hospital that was full to the brim with Muggles—whoever had brought him here must certainly be in the mood for a joke… I wanted to die, and I ended up here… How idiotic is this world?
"Um… Knock knock."
Draco turned his head to see a girl with light red hair, dressed in a pink-and-blue nurse outfit and blue slippers.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice tired from yelling at nurses who only came to make his life more miserable.
"I'm the one who found you," she said timidly. "I brought you here."
"Yeah, great, thanks a lot," said Draco bitterly, and looked outside the window again. The girl remained silent for a moment, looking at him.
He certainly seems intriguing… Anne thought. The truth was, she couldn't stop thinking about him ever since she had brought him in there that same morning… But certain things he said or did were at least ungrateful, not to say repulsive. Why he yelled so much at nurses, why he never let anyone touch him… It was a bit annoying, really, to have to anesthetize a patient to be able to hold him still and stitch him up.
"How are you feeling?" she said finally.
Draco scoffed. "I've been better."
The girl prepared to retaliate that sarcastic remark, but decided not to since the guy was obviously suffering from post-traumatic stress. Or so she thought, in any case.
"I'm Anne. What's your name?"
Silence.
"Um, I've never seen you before; you must be from out of town… Where d'you come from?"
Silence.
She was standing at the foot of his bed, staring at him and trying to attract his attention.
Silence.
"Why don't you say something?"
"Like what? What do you want to hear?" he said with a bitter, tired tone in his voice, moving his head so that he could see her.
Anne was taken aback; the boy was looking into her eyes with a desperate and melancholic look, as if he cried out that he was truly sorry that he was even alive right now.
"I don't want to hear something I want to hear," she said, "…just tell me your name."
Silence.
"You do have a name, don't you?"
"Of course I do!" he snapped.
"Well, what is it then?"
Draco fell silent once again. He feared to reveal his true name, for it might reach the ears of the Death Eaters, and everything he'd done would be in vain. He hadn't planned for any of this to happen; he shouldn't have survived in the first place…
Anne took a deep breath. Draco was looking outside the window again, trying to think of a way to escape…
"Well, are you going to tell me anytime soon? I'm trying to help, you know!"
"I don't need your help!"
"We have to contact your family!"
Draco snorted. "I have no family!"
"But you have a name!"
Their voices had been rising to a crescendo with no end, when suddenly the blond boy snapped under its pressure.
"Drac—"
"… What?"
He had almost let slip his name… The only thing that kept his existence a secret. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to clear his head.
"So… it's Drake?"
Draco opened his eyes and looked at Anne bewildered. "Hmm!"
"Your name… It's Drake?"
"Wha— no!"
"What do you mean no? It's not Drake? You're not making any sense…"
"No, it's not that—"
"What is it then?"
"Argh, leave me alone!"
Draco's mind was racing; his veins were throbbing as blood rushed to his head. I can't say it's not my name! It sounds so stupid! Darn! I didn't ask for this! I didn't ask for anything!
After a long, awkward silence, Anne spoke again.
"So, Drake…" she said, "… do you have a last name?"
Draco tried to make up something on the spot. Kerrf… no, Weas—ew, no…
He turned away from Anne and noticed writing on the bedside table to his right. Apparently the manufacturer was called…
"Morrigan!" he exclaimed, turning to Anne again.
She smiled smugly, as if she was saying 'I told you soooooo'…
"Nice to meet you, Drake Morrigan!" she said finally. "I'm Anne Richards."
Draco felt the muscles on his face relax somewhat. This girl had managed to make him forget, if only for a little while, all the dark and haunting thoughts that never left him.
But remembering that he had actually forgotten all about it, the thoughts came back.
And that faint smile was lost, perhaps for good.
He looked away to his left, where the window was. He could think of nothing but Hogwarts. The halls, the grounds, the black sky illuminated by the Dark Mark… Dumbledore's pleas echoing in his mind… "Severus… please…"
"Drake… Drake. Drake! DRAKE!"
He snapped back to reality and turned to Anne, who looked as though she was expecting some kind of a reaction or an answer from him.
"You didn't hear me, did you?" she said sympathetically, extending her right hand towards him. "I'm Anne Richards."
Draco saw where this was going and pursed his lips together in contempt. "Don't touch me," he said austerely.
"Oh," she said, taking her hand back and looking surprised. "Well… Do you want me to get you anything?"
"No."
"Okay then… I have to go now, my day is over. But I'll be here tomorrow morning to check on you, 'kay?" she said moving towards the door. "Take care."
And she smiled at him one last time before turning around and leaving the room.
"Don't bother," whispered Draco to no one, turning once again to look outside the window. "I don't need anyone."
Somewhere in the town square, a big church tower clock was chiming 5 o'clock.
xXx
"He can only stay for another day—Thursday, he'll have to go."
"But Dr Michaels—"
"I've done what I could do, Annie. There are no Morrigans anywhere around here or in any town nearby. He probably gave you a fake name, and no one here has the luxury of time to tend to a bipolar kid with psychological issues. By rule I can't keep him any longer, he has no money or insurance to pay for his treatment."
"But he needs to be taken care of!"
"He should go to his family then. We can't afford charities."
Dr Michaels threw her a sympathetic yet uncaring look and strode off. His golden hair shone in the light of the halogen lamps overhead and his immaculate white robes billowed behind him as he zoomed away, not once looking back. Anne stood there, in the middle of the hallway in the Orthopaedics Department, eyes still wide in shock.
They were throwing him out. The kind of thing they usually did to homeless, raggedy people, they were now doing to Drake. On Thursday morning he would be given a pair of crutches (which would be of no use since it was his arm that hurt, not any leg) or some other sort of appliance that he wouldn't be able to pay for or use, for what it's worth, and he'd be sent on his way to nowhere. For everyone else he was an attempted suicide case—but she cared about him. They have to look for his family! There HAS to be someone!
A nurse passed by her and bumped into her shoulder; Anne was brought back to reality. A big, modern looking clock on the hallway wall above the elevator showed a quarter past two in the afternoon. She had a few more hours to think of something, but time was ticking past…
She set her jaw and moved forward—that boy thrown out in the street was the last thing she wanted to see.
xXx
The sleep was forcefully pulled away from Draco's eyelids as another nameless nurse strutted into his room on Wednesday morning and flung the curtains open. He moaned and turned the other way; his head ached like mad, and his eyes hurt as if he had no energy at all—as if he was really, really sick.
The nurse strutted out of his room in the same brisk, dry manner she had come in with, just as a bewildered Anne Richards entered. She stared blankly in the direction of the dark-skinned, bespectacled nurse for a moment, but came to quickly and turned to look at the blond boy.
The expression on his face was one of utter annoyance; his eyes were shut tightly as he turned away from the window, and his hands were covering his ears as if every sound drove him mad. He was quivering, even though it was as hot as hell that late July morning. He looked feverish—did that nurse check on him at ALL!
She walked quickly across the room in her blue slippers and pulled the curtains shut again. As the sunlight was blocked Draco relaxed a little and opened his eyes only to see that girl who claimed to have brought him there… She looked concerned.
"Good morning," she said quietly, approaching his bed. "How are you feeling?"
The boy shifted in his position; the linen sheet that used to cover him had almost fallen off the bed on the cold, marble floor. Anne picked it up and covered him again, unwillingly staring at his naked, attractive torso. She pulled her gaze away from him, covering him with the sheet and helping him sit up; she didn't dare look him in the eyes.
Whoa, what am I thinking? He's a patient! A gorgeous patient… but still a patient!
She sat beside him on the bed.
"I feel like I'm burning…" said Draco, tilting his head back to relieve himself from the dizziness he felt. The girl made a move to touch his forehead and check his temperature, but he flinched with an energy she never would have guessed he had.
"Don't touch me!" he growled, throwing a fierce look at her. She was taken aback, to say the least—what was WITH this guy?
They both remained silent for a while, staring at each other intently. None of them faltered for one second. Anne finally decided to let it go and be polite.
"Your wound is probably infected," she said, getting up and avoiding his look. "I'll bring you an antibiotic right away. Stay there and don't push the sheet away, you have to stay warm. Here, take this too," she said and covered him with a blanket that looked suspiciously old.
With that she turned around and headed out to find some medicine to treat him with (or a doctor with a very strong nervous system…)
xXx
"I said DON'T TOUCH ME!"
Four nurses were holding him down on the bed while Dr Michaels examined him. The boy was nearly foaming at the mouth, raging and yelling for the "Muggles" to get off him. Everyone around him had freaked out and was filing out of the room frantically, leaving him alone panting and wheezing for breath.
Anne spotted a furious Dr Michaels striding in the hallway, heading her way. She tried to tame the butterflies in her stomach—what she was about to do was both foolish and brave.
"Dr Michaels!" she said, joining him in his frantic walk.
"What, Annie?"
"I've found a place for the boy to go."
"Did you find his parents?"
"No, sir."
"Then where is he gonna go?"
Anne told him.
Dr Michaels seemed sceptical about it; he squinted at her and asked her suspiciously, "Do you have clearance?"
"Yes, sir," Anne lied. "I asked."
After a few more moments of thought Dr Michaels finally nodded in consent.
"Very well," he said, "he may leave tomorrow morning." And he continued his way onwards, his walk somehow relaxed knowing he would get rid of the resident nuisance of the hospital.
"Hi…"
Draco spun his head only to see that auburn-haired girl again.
"Oh. It's you."
"Were you expecting someone else?"
"Maybe one of the 800 doctors who come in here to torture me!"
"They only want to help," said Anne calmly.
Draco didn't answer. He didn't want to risk the exposure of the wizarding world if he could help it—but these Muggles were so damn annoying…
"Anyway," continued the girl, "the good news is that you'll be out of here tomorrow morning."
"And the bad news?"
"Um, I don't think thereis any."
"Hm." He was looking away from her again.
"Has your fever dropped?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah it has." Draco watched her walk away towards the window and almost said 'thanks'. But he didn't.
She was standing next to the window now, arms folded across her chest, her face withholding a faint, sad smile as she watched a 90-year-old-or-so grandma trying to stand on her feet again after a difficult operation.
Somewhere in the distance the church tower clock chimed five.
Anne glanced at her watch hastily and looked at Draco, a regretful look on her face.
"I have to go," she said and approached him. "Can you promise me you won't break this place down to pieces until tomorrow?"
"I'm not your bloody kid."
"I know that, but everyone blames me for bringing you here."
"Damn right they do! You should have left me there to die!"
"Don't talk like that!"
"Don't order me! You filthy Muggle!"
Anne's eyes widened again like they had when she had first heard the word come out of his mouth.
"What does that mean?"
"What!" Draco was panting, and apparently he hadn't realized what he had said.
"Muggle… what does it mean?"
It was Draco's turn to widen his eyes. He blushed and looked the other way hastily, trying to think of something to say.
"Listen… I know this must be hard for you… But I—all of us here—we just want to help. But we can't do it if you don't let us."
Draco looked up. The knot in his stomach loosened a bit. The girl looked genuinely concerned instead of angry… She has to be the weirdest person I've ever met, he thought.
Neither of them spoke for a while.
In the end, Anne sighed and let go of the intense staring contest she and Draco had engaged in.
"I'm off," she said. "Please be patient. It's just till tomorrow morning."
Draco didn't answer. He continued to stare at her, but there was nothing disapproving about his manner. She does have a point.
Anne left the room walking backwards at first, and then she turned around and exited to the busy hallway of the ER.
Once in a good distance from the room, she stopped to take a breath. I really must be nuts to be doing this… I just hope it works out.
xXx
The wind is whistling as it weaves in and out of the old trees of the forest.
It's dark; I can't see a thing…
A cloak hem rustles somewhere near me.
I spin on my heels, try to see—nothing. No one. Not a person, not another sound other than the lurid whistling of the wind between the trees.
It's cold… I feel my knees tremble under an unknown pressure.A voice whispers in my ear… Terrible words… frightful words… Words I thought I'd never hear again… My heart pounds like mad, I can't breathe, my skin is burning—
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Draco was all alone in a dark room he couldn't recognize at first sight. As his eyesight adjusted to the darkness, he could make out the shapes of all the bizarre instruments in the room he had been literally held captive for the past three days. Just three days? It seemed to him like it was ages…
There was a faint light filtering through the window, and Draco guessed it must still be early morning. All other light sources in the room were completely turned off. Suddenly an odd thought hit him.
Where the hell is my wand!
Terrified that it might have been destroyed by the unaware Muggles—Draco shivered at the mere thought of it—he sat up in his bed and tried to get up, to pull open the curtains, to search for his wand…
A sharp pang in his left forearm made him howl with pain. He gave up trying to move and lay immobile on his bed, suppressing the tears that welled up inside his eyes. Why did I survive? Why?
After what seemed like a century, the door opened and a figure walked in. Draco squinted to make out who it was, but his eyes were still unaccustomed to the light. Meanwhile the figure walked over to the window and pulled the curtains wide open, allowing a faint, greyish light to enter the room.
"Not a very nice weather today, I'm afraid," the girl said, and Draco finally recognized her vivid auburn hair—it was Anne. Man, this girl never quits!
"Good morning," she told him as she came close to his bedside and adjusted the blankets on top of him. The boy flinched. Anne's face quickly hardened.
"Listen, this touch thingy has to stop. You've had your laugh, now stop it."
"I'm not having a laugh."
"Then quit it already! You can't live like this!"
"Who said I wanted to live?" he yelled at her accusatively.
Anne stared at him incredulously.
"I don't believe you! After all we've done for you—"
"I didn't ask for anything."
"—and this is how you thank us… Well, I guess I won't be saving anyone else anytime soon."
Draco saw a tear roll down the girl's cheek as she turned around and left the room.
Outside rain was falling lightly.
He tilted his head to the back, resting it on the pillow; he closed his eyes and breathed. I shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have said anything.
A content-looking Dr Michaels entered the room, accompanied by an array of doctors and nurses, his face glowing with a sinister glee.
"Mr Morrigan!" he exclaimed, his small blue eyes sparkling with anticipation. "I see you're feeling better."
Draco threw him an are-you-an-idiot look. "My fever hasn't dropped yet."
"It's just an infection, you'll be fine," Dr Michaels said, not losing his light-hearted attitude for a second. "We have actually found you a place to go."
The blond boy was astonished and shocked at the same time. These people never give up!
"Nurse!"
Two nurses approached Draco cautiously, and tried to help him get up. With a disgusted wince Draco let them get a hold of his upper arms so that he could actually stand up; within moments, he was on his feet.
"See? You're absolutely fine. Now, follow me."
Draco tried his best to keep up with his idiotically multi-numbered escort as they wove in and out of corridors. He felt very dizzy and weak, but he could suffer almost anything if he could just get out of there… They got into an elevator and Dr Michaels pressed the ground floor button almost cheerfully. Draco sighed. …Whatever.
As they reached the reception, Draco was surprised to see a casually dressed Anne standing by the reception desk, filling out forms. The noise of the footsteps made her turn around, and she gave them a sad nod before signing the paper and turning to Dr Michaels.
"Is he ready?"
"Even if he isn't, he'll be in good hands," winked Dr Michaels.
Anne sighed, looking down. "We'll see about that."
She turned to Draco now. Her eyes were slightly red from crying, but otherwise she seemed okay.
"Let's go then," she said as she handed him a white T-shirt. Draco stood there staring at it for a moment. "Put it on," Anne urged him, "we don't have all day!"
He put it on reluctantly. The escort took off.
Anne turned around and beckoned him towards the exit. He followed her, a slightly incredulous look on his face. After all I've said… she's the one to take me to wherever we're going?
As they exited the hospital a blast of hot air hit them with a whoosh, and droplets of rain hit their foreheads. Worst possible weather for a summer day.
"Whoa, it really is hot isn't it?" Anne remarked.
Draco didn't answer. He only looked at her with a look that he hoped expressed his gratitude for her help, and then made to go.
"Wait, Drake!" she called after him. "Where are you going?"
Draco stared at her questioningly. To hell!
She smiled at him somewhat sympathetically.
"You're going the wrong way," she said. "My house is this way."
xXxXxZE ENDXxXxX
A/N: Please review, ne! And thank you for your patience!
Answers to chap. 1 reviews
Demon Slaying Hanyou: Why, thank you! Yeah I seem to dislike Pansy a GREAT lot. She's just so… blaaaaah. You know, bad boy gets bad girl. There's no fun and no point in that. Updation is here, although seriously delayed… :P Sorry for that.
sophie-sticated90: Love your pen-name! Yeah hugging your screen can be rather tricky… ahem Well, she did kinda feel something when she first saw his face (like, what would you feel if you'd seen a tormented Draco almost having bled to death? Except for the blood, well… drools) I hope it's evident in this chapter!
Brknlight: I hope I've lived up to your expectations!
RonGranger: Thank you thank you! bows I don't usually write Draco stories, I never had a particular soft spot for him until HBP! (Yes, I admit, I was never a Draco fangirl. And I DON'T like Tom Felton either. Dunno why, but I imagined this whole story as an anime… Draco would pretty much look like Yuki Eiri in Gravitation, only younger. Just in case someone knows what I'm talking about, lol.)
Mooncheese: Thanks a lot:) Draco is already 17 (his birthday is on June 5th, if I'm not mistaken, according to the HP Lexicon, and the story begins somewhere around the end of July). Anne is not 17 yet, but she will turn 17 on the 24th of December. She's preparing to go to 12th grade the coming September in the story that is, September 1996. I think. :P
FastFuriousChick: The answer you were looking for is in this chapter, I think… Well, glad you liked it! That suspense thing was what I was aiming for, lol!
fahzzyquill: Thank you! I will! (I seriously, seriously want to end this story because I already have a sequel in mind. I know everything I have to write, I just need to WRITE IT. I promise, I'll finish this story AND the next one. Mark my words— you shall have a complete fanfic one day! No, not just one! Two of them!)
Gryffindorchic: Arigato! (thank you in Japanese). Don't mind my Japanese blab here and there, I'm just mixing up my fandoms in my personal life AND my informal speech… Lol, I need to keep myself together:P
BushyHaired: Amy-san! Thanks for the review! Lolz. XD Actually (this comment goes to sophie-sticated90 as well), that first part—the thoughts in italics—I wrote immediately after reading a particular passage in the book p. 130, US hardcover edition where Harry first states his suspicion that Draco is a Death Eater. Specifically, he says, "He's a Death Eater. He's been branded with the Dark Mark." At that moment I just closed my book and wrote this. I didn't know what to do with it; I just needed to write something. As it turned out, I found a good use for it, lol.
retroliz: Don't get mad… please? Sorry for delaying the chappie! It's all yours to enjoy now:)