I know you're reading it, and this is the last chapter I have written at the moment, so if you want to know what happens next, REVIEW IT! smiles sweetly Thank you!
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The thing that woke him up wasn't the light in the room, even though it was early in the afternoon and the sun was shining warmly over his face. It wasn't the sounds of the children playing a loud game in the street below. It wasn't even the faint smell of brick mold that is so distinctive in old, damp apartment buildings. It was, in fact, a tongue. Not a soft, smooth, seductive tongue, because certainly Draco would have been accustomed enough to that to not let it wake him. No, actually it was quite a bit more like sandpaper, and smelled a bit like fish, and it was licking his eyelid.
Draco's mind slowly revolved upward through the warm haze in his brain brought on by soft blankets, warm sunlight, and a cat curled up between his neck and shoulder, calmly cleaning his face with its rough tongue. Draco frowned at it sternly for a moment, but, being a cat, it merely ignored him and began washing its feet in a manner that suggested it completely lacked a spine or any other bones. Draco was not used to waking up and having to frown sternly at cats, and it is probably lucky that he had to take a moment to think about this, otherwise he might have tried to sit up. That would have been disastrous.
He lifted his head slightly (much to the irritation of the cat) and looked downward over the blankets that covered him. He couldn't see the bandages that must be wrapped around him; blankets hid them. He couldn't feel them. In actuality, he couldn't really feel much of anything. He didn't have any difficulty remembering exactly what had happened on the night of what was supposed to be the most important day of his young life. He did have difficulty remembering anything after that, but he was spared the trouble of using his imagination because at that moment the owner of the cat appeared through the doorway next to the old armchair with a lace doily on top of it.
"Ah," the owner of the cat said.
Draco looked up with a surprising sense of vague but benign indifference, and also said, "Ah." He wasn't positive why he should feel indifference, notwithstanding varying degrees of benignity, but he was certain this was a surprising thing to feel because the person standing before him perfectly fit the description of "sweet old lady." And she certainly wasn't anyone that Draco had had the opportunity to know.
"Good to see you awake. Thought you had kicked the bucket for a long while there. How do you feel?" She smiled at him, walked over to the bed and patted the cat. The cat appreciated this, and said so with a low rumbling purr that vibrated the skin on Draco's neck pleasantly. Draco had always felt that if a cat vouched for a person, no doubt that was a better endorsement than any that a person could give. Draco considered his response.
"Vague," he said firmly. She nodded as if this were to be expected.
"It's the drugs."
Draco nodded back, as if this were a normal thing for a wizard to nod back to. Then he said, "What?"
"Drugs. Morphine. For the pain. Are you hungry? You've been in and out for the last two days."
Draco suddenly he realized he was ravenous, and nodded again.
She left the room quietly and he lay his head back down next to the cat again. He had a (vague) feeling he should be worried about something. He was too sleepy and comfortable to think about this too hard though, and he allowed himself to drift back off to a dreamless sleep while he waited for his food.
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"Remus?"
"Mnnn….?"
"You're squashing me."
"Mnnn." Remus opened one eye and peered down at Tonks. "So I am," he said sleepily, and began to go back to sleep. Tonks rolled her eyes and poked a finger into his side. He jumped. Tonks grimaced, as his jumping had caused him to lift up and flop over in a perilously heavy way onto her stomach.
"Remus."
"Yes?" He didn't open his eyes.
"You are lying on half a pound of strawberries, chocolate, and a cheeseburger." With exaggerated effort, Remus Lupin rolled off of the spiky-haired witch and face-down onto the sun-warmed grass. He opened the other eye.
"How do you stay so skinny?" he asked mischievously. She quirked a pink eyebrow at him and smiled.
"Magic." He rolled his eyes in return and planted his face back into the grass. "Although chasing after a fabulously attractive wizard who's stolen my strawberries certainly helps."
Remus muttered something under his breath about what he'd like to do with her strawberries and Tonks thumped him on the shoulder.
"Ouch, woman!" he growled, but she just smirked. He looked up at the sky beseechingly. "Why, oh lord, was I afflicted with this witch?"
"Oh that's just it." Tonks stood up, walked three steps, tripped over a root, and would have fallen flat on her face if Remus hadn't caught her around the waist and swung her backwards into his arm.
"You know, you're awfully clumsy for a nymph." Remus grinned at her. Tonks snorted.
"Wolf boy."
"Nymph."
"Grrr," she said, picking grass out of his hair. "Honestly, I don't know how I've put up with you this long. I must be crazy to want you around."
"Crazy enough to make it permanent?" he said quietly. She froze, fingers still in his brown and prematurely-gray hair. He stared back at her calmly.
"Remus….are you …." Tonks returned his gaze levelly, with one pink eyebrow cocked.
"I told you, I've wasted too much time with you already, being an idiot. I'd like to make it up to you, if you give me the chance." She swallowed when she saw the small box in his hand.
"Nymphadora Tonks, will you marry me?" She winced at the use of her first name. He laughed. "All right. Will you marry me, Tonks?" She smiled and hugged him.
"That's much better. Of course I will." He sighed with relief.
"Thank God that's over, is it supposed to be that difficult?"
"Well usually it's more romantic than 'You're nutters and so am I, let's tie the knot!'"
"Bloody hard to propose to a girl who doesn't let you say her name," Lupin grinned.
"Are you going to give me the damn ring or not?"
"Here. Nymph." She took it from him, spent a long moment admiring the beautiful silver stream wrapped around the diamond, and then she swatted his leg.
"You can't hit me, I'm your fiance!" He said with a look of injured dignity.
"You're a loony," she giggled and kissed him.
"Nymph."
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The wind whipped fitfully at her cloak as it dropped down from the open sky above into the alley, but she was wrapped up warmly in one of her mother's knit sweaters. The moon was cold and white in the black sky, and looked down at her with its harsh, accusing white light. The light reminded her of the fluorescent ones in King's Cross train station, where she had gotten lost the day Fred and George left for their first day of school. She had been terrified, surrounded by that cold white light and hundreds of strangers.
She was alone now. At least, mostly so. She had been waiting here at this spot in the alley for close to an hour, she thought. But now she could hear what she had come for, furtively sneaking in the dark, trying to be quiet.
Before her second year, Ginny wouldn't have heard it. She would have been running up and down, crying for her mother and trying to find her way home. She wouldn't have heard the creeping footsteps until it was too late. They were very close now. Ginny let out a small whimper and crouched even further into the shadow of the doorway she was hiding in. The noise was very small, but not too small for the creeper to hear. He froze, listening.
Ginny shuffled her feet a little, pulling the crooked school skirt closer around her legs. The man hesitated another moment. Gently, trying hard to keep her thoughts vague and indirect, she pushed an image of a little girl, lost and sniffling in Knockturn Alley, into his mind. He jumped a little, as if startled, but she went on, showing the dirt on the little girl's nose, the strands of red hair messily pulled from her formerly neat braid. She could feel him smirk in his mind as he looked at the image that he thought he had imagined. She tried not to shudder at the thoughts that followed this one through his head, but she read them nonetheless. She wasn't looking for an innocent person.
He crept forward several more feet until he could see her eyes clearly in the white light of the moon. He stopped in surprise when he saw that her eyes were not young and frightened, but old and angry. Very angry.
Startled, he turned tail to leave, but it was too late for him. He jerked upright as he saw a man standing in front of him, covered in blood and moaning. He shouted in horror and stumbled backwards, waving away at the apparition. Then the man disappeared abruptly and was replaced by a witch writhing on the ground, screaming and jerking in agony. She disappeared and was replaced by another horrific image, and another, coming faster and faster in quick succession as he stumbled away from them screaming in horror. Finally, as he slumped against the wall, covering his eyes and sobbing hysterically. Reluctantly he peered through his fingers.
There was a man. A tall, thin, hairless man, standing with his back to him. He wasn't covered in blood. He wasn't screaming. He wasn't doing anything. The creeper bit back another hiccuping sob.
"Please...Please help me...please..." he sobbed out. The thin man's head turned ever so slightly, as if he had barely heard him. Then he slowly turned around, and the hysterical man could see his whole face. His eyes popped open in soundless terror, he made a choking noise in his throat and pushed back against the wall as if he could hope to push himself right through it.
The tall, thin man's eyes (Red! Red eyes!, thought the man desperately in his head) bored into him as he stepped soundlessly closer, the thin robes outlining his amazingly emaciated body as he strode forward. The man quaked and shivered uncontrollably as the apparition's thin lips stretched back in a snarl, then the cold, hard hand gripped him around the neck and his eyes rolled into his head as he fainted.
There was absolute silence in the alley, all the wind had suddenly died away. Ginny Weasley stood stock still, her small warm hand on the throat of an unconscious, unshaven, creepy wizard three times her age. The moon watched them coldly in her harsh white light.
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Sorry to leave everyone in the lurch! smiles and waves cheekily See you next week! And if you're confused as hell and are sitting there going WTFBBQ mate, don't worry, all will be revealed. And if you've figured it out, DON'T TELL and spoil everyone's confusedness! Teehee!