A/N Tell me, reviewers, what do you want to see? Tell me a scene that you want to see, and if I have more than one person asking about any of them, then I'll try to write it in somewhere. I promise I'll try my hardest. It's hard to write when only I only get three reviews. http:/ tinyurl. com/ 3htuopd is how I imagined the boys while watching Hermione. Oh, and there's a beautiful painting on DeviantArt by batmancried that more or less sums up my image of Pansy.
The score is 87 to 35, Puddlemere. Tutshill's Montieth is closing in on the snitch, though. Oh, and there's a bludger hit by Greengrass soaring towards Belcher. Belcher's dodged it, and oh, now it's flying towards Tutshill, and Royden's flown through the hoop to avoid it, Quaffle still in hand, that'll be a foul then, Quaffle to Puddlemere.
The three men were sitting in the skybox. Literally. They were flying in the box above the pitch at high speeds, safe and sound in highly cushy chairs. They were leaning back, beers in hand, watching the game, Draco with his cigarette in hand. George reached into the bag that Hermione had packed and pulled out some sandwiches and another round of beers.
"Who do you think is going to win?" Fred asked, cracking the lid.
Draco finished the beer he already had in his hand, and opened the one he had handed him.
"Well Puddlemere is up now, but Tutshill has Monteith and Hollingberry."
George nodded and swallowed a mouthful of sandwich. "Ah, you're right. But Puddlemere has Ethelbard. If Elthelbard can get the snitch then all bets are off."
Fred tittered and raised his beer. "And think about this though, it doesn't matter if Monteith gets the snitch if Puddlemere gets even farther ahead. They could win, even if Ethelbard can't catch it."
Draco nodded at the points made leaned forward. "But look, down there. Royden just got the Quaffle through the hoop, six times in a row while you made that little point. 95 to 90, Tutshill. If they keep this up, it's any man's game. And besides, who cares who wins? They're the two best teams around, and it's been a good game so far. They're so evenly matched that this is the sort of game that could go on for days."
Fortunately, it didn't. Ethelbard reached out and claimed the snitch, ending the game in favor of Puddlemere. The guys stayed in the booth smoking and schmoozing until it got so dark out that they were unable to fly home. The reduced visibility due to the dark and the ever-present English rain would have made the flight dangerous, so they chose to apparate, the Weasleys back to the flat, and Draco to the manor where he would make sure everything was ready before he went back to fetch Hermione. They packed all of their things into the bag that Hermione had given them, including Draco's generously provided brooms.
-0-
Hermione had been at the shop for ages, and it felt like no one would be coming in when the bell on the door chimed. The boys had been gone for a long three hours, and there had only been as many customers in as much time.
She was leaning against the counter flipping through a Potions journal when the chime had happened.
"Welcome to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Today you can find the Jumping Jelly Babies on sale for 2 sickles and 15 knuts, and with the Equinox coming up, you can buy the Deflagration Deluxe, a deluxe selection of Weasleys' Wild-Fire Whiz-Bangs, for only 15 Galleons."
"I thought I might find you here."
The voice was another that she hadn't expected to hear again. She looked up and was surprised to see that the witch in front of her had gotten prettier with age, her features softening and becoming more gentle, her short black hair tousled about her face, lips red and heavily made up.
She had the grace that seemed to accompany the Purebloods, or at least the Slytherins. After all, the Weasleys were pureblooded, but there were many words that could be chosen to describe them before someone would settle on the word 'graceful'.
"Hello, Pansy."
Pansy gave her a light smile that showed only a hint of her teeth. Hermione had never been as good at reading people as she was at reading books, and she was unable to tell whether it was a genuine smile that just didn't quite fit with her static beauty, or if it was far more ill intentioned.
"When Draco told me that you would be moving in with him, I was understandably… shocked. I'd heard, of course, about what happened with Vincent and Gregory, but I'd only really heard their version of the story, Draco doesn't much care to talk about his personal affairs. I was under the impression that he had taken you and claimed you as his in the alley; after all, with the supposed Veela in his family I wouldn't have been surprised. I finally did get him to talk, though, and I was quite surprised to find that he had all but the best intentions. But when he told me that all he sought was a friend, I realized that the boy is probably the smartest that I know.
You're notorious for showing compassion when you probably shouldn't, and you always help wayward creatures. You took to Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter, despite the way they had originally treated you. However, they did save your life that night in the bathroom. What I'm curious of, however," Pansy took a moment to shift her weight, leaning against the counter on her elbows and loosening the fingers of her gloves, pulling them off of her thin white hands. "Is what exactly it takes to become your friend. Because if you can befriend a man who terrorized you as a child, two men who almost got you killed countless times, and find it in you to love two more… well. One can never have enough friends, and what with Millicent being unfortunately gored by a raging troll, her great aunt I'm sure, I find myself without female companionship. And you seem like someone who would seem to make a fit friend. You found it in you to befriend one Slytherin, can you deal with another?"
Hermione carefully regarded the woman in front of her. Sure, Pansy had nearly led to her demise more than once, but she was one of the few Slytherins who was never outwardly hostile. It was well known that Hermione was not liked by Pansy, but she had never physically attacked her, unlike some of her housemate.
"Why me? Why now?"
Pansy smiled, a true smile, much prettier, that made it seem like she had been expecting that question. "When we were in school, I think Draco fancied you. He would rant and rave about you, not just the "Golden Trio", but you in particular, almost like he seemed that you went out of your way to annoy him. I don't think I realized it at the time, but it was because he was so fascinated with the enigma that was… you. You're brilliant, even I know that, and everyone knows that I'm not the sharpest. But if you can be friends with someone as intense as he… I just… I need someone sometimes, and a friend of mine can't be a pushover. When I thought of confident, strong, brilliant witches, you were the only one who immediately came to my mind."
Hermione stuck out a hand. Pansy looked at it for a moment before putting her hand in it. They shook, eyes meeting before Hermione smiled. With a wave of her wand the sign to the shop door flipped to closed, and she grabbed her cloak and bag from the hook behind the register.
"Well, come on then. We'll go get lunch and a cuppa, and you can tell me all it is that I'll have to know to be the friend that you need. I'm not going to change myself to suit what you want, of course, but I will try to do whatever it is in my power to be a friend. How does that sound?"
Pansy smiled that shocking smile again and tucked her gloves into a pocket, holding out her elbow to Hermione, who took it with an equally brilliant smile. "That sounds fabulous. Now, I know the best place only a few blocks away, their chowder is to die for…"
Hermione smiled at gave a quick thought to how the boys were getting on before focusing her attention on Pansy. Pansy needed a friend, and she'd be damned if she didn't give her what she needed.
-0-
"… And I'll have the clam chowder with garlic bread." Pansy declared, snapping her menu shut. She handed it to the waiter and took a sip of her cup of tea.
"What happened, Pansy?"
Pansy took another sip and rested her head on one of those long thin hands. She took a long moment to compose her thoughts before smoothing down her hair with one hand and started to play with her napkin with the other.
"Whatever it is... You can tell me. I promise I won't judge you. I'm not exactly in a place to judge anyone right now."
Pansy nodded and sat up even straighter in the chair, taking yet another sip of tea before composing herself enough to speak. "I'm sorry. This is just so much harder than I anticipated."
Pansy folded her thin lily white fingers tipped in red together, and straightened the fork, knife, and spoon on her napkin before rotating her teacup 45 degrees to the left and chuckling.
"I'm sorry. I get antsy when I get nervous. After the fall of the Dark Lord, when I went back to finish my seventh year, I took a few classes on Muggle History and Muggle Studies. I ended up spending quite a bit of time in the non-magical communities in the area. And then I met this guy... Quentin. We were together for a couple of years, and I had somehow managed to hide my magic from him. We'd moved in together, he was talking about marriage… I thought I would be able to keep up the charade. I was willing to give up everything for him."
Pansy took a moment to gently stir her cooling tea and take a sip, obviously trying to calm herself down. Hermione didn't like where it sounded like this story was going and was starting to understand why Pansy needed a friend. Pansy visibly steeled herself and continued on with her story.
"One day when I thought I was alone in his flat, I charmed the sink to wash the dirty dishes, and I had all of the little things lying around the apartment levitating to their proper places when he walked in the door. He pretended to understand, but it was obvious that it really did bother him more than he let on. In a way, we were almost like Eileen Prince and Tobias Snape. He claimed that it didn't bother him, but it was easy to see that he didn't feel comfortable knowing that I wasn't the frail, delicate, dependent woman he'd thought I was."
Pansy blinked rapidly, the tears coming to her eyes. Hermione fished around in her bag and pulled out a cotton handkerchief, handing it to the other woman. Pansy sent her a grateful smile and dabbed at her eyes before continuing on with her story.
"That night, I promised him that I would give up my magic for him. I gave him my wand, and he had it locked up in a safe that I didn't know the combination to. After a few weeks, things started to go back to normal. I wasn't using magic, but I'd gotten pretty used to not using it in his company anyway. About a month after he took my wand was the first night that he hit me.
"I think it was because he realized that I wasn't as strong as he'd thought I was.
"He didn't know me as Pansy Parkinson, the hideously pug nosed brat that rode around on Draco's coattails. But when he finally called things off, he didn't do it in person. He packed up all of his things and bought another place, just... Disappearing. He changed his phone numbers, got a new job... He eventually sent me a letter calling me all sorts of names. There was a long time where I just curled up on the bed and didn't move. I was able to get my wand back, but it didn't really matter. My magic started to wane, I wasn't eating. I could barely perform a proper cooling charm on my pillow.
"Draco eventually came and dragged me from the room, forced me to take a shower, and made me a sandwich. It took a while but I eventually got fairly close to normal. I'm still not as powerful as I used to be, and even walking for long periods of time exhausts me. I was in town once, and I saw him walking arm in arm with Millicent Bulstrode. A couple months later was when she got in that tussle with that troll, and he came back. He said that he had gotten my address from Millicent before she died. He'd told me that he had sought her out because he'd heard me talk about her, realized that she was like me, and wanted to learn what he hadn't been able to with me.
"It took me ages to realize that he was full of shit. By that time, he had me so in his control. He still does. I can't leave him; I'm all he has. He'd die without me Hermione. That's why I need your help."
Hermione felt her eyes widen. "Whoa, wait, what? You're still with him? After all of that? Please, tell me that you're kidding."
Pansy gently shook her head, pulling a long chain necklace from her collar. "Do you know what this is, Hermione?"
Hermione held the charm in her hand, magic shimmering slightly around her hand before the freckles and scars on the back of her hand faded away. "A long term glamour," she gasped, her eyes shooting up to meet Pansy's. The darker haired woman slowly lifted the chain from her neck, pale skin turning into a myriad of more sickening colors. Purples, yellows, blues, reds.
She quickly dropped it back down around her neck and tucked it back under her collar. "Draco gave me this. Professor Snape used to own it. He'd use it to hide the marks that the Dark Lord would leave on his skin. Draco's working on a way to try to get me out. Maybe send me to Spain, or Italy. He wants me to leave for a while, get the glamour changed to something more… blonde… and just lay low. I'm scared Hermione. I can't bear the thought of leaving, but I'm afraid of staying even more."
Pansy wiped her eyes again, and took a shaky inhalation, trying to calm herself down. Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out a vial of a calming drought, handing it to Pansy. The waiter came back with their soup, but neither girl paid it much attention, instead choosing to continue the conversation.
Hermione circled a finger around the rim of her teacup to reheat it and took a long sip. "You told me that you needed a friend, but it sounds like there was another reason you specifically sought me out. Why me? If you needed a friend, it makes sense that you would have chosen someone from Slytherin, like Daphne, Hestia, even Alcmene. Why me?"
Pansy hesitated for a moment before nodding. "You're the best witch of the age, it's been proven. I need someone that I wasn't friends with before. He knows everything about people I know, and he's heard enough about my school days to think that I would never come to you for help. I need someone who can make me a new glamour charm. I heard that you could make one that is can manifest in different ways. Draco told me that you could make it so that I can quickly change my appearance without having to use my magic as much. I need to be able to change quickly. It's getting harder to hide from him."
Hermione was shocked. No one should try to have that much control over someone. Listening to Pansy's description of the way that Quentin treated her though, it sounded that it hadn't started until he discovered her magic. But maybe he had been the same way in the past, and she just hadn't been able to notice it because she had cared about him so much.
Pansy stood and rested her napkin on the table next to her bowl. "I need to go. I've been gone for far too long already, and I really cannot afford to have him look for me. I'll owl you when I can, or I'll come find you. It would be best if you do not try to find me."
Pansy walked away, her black hair ruffled slightly by the increasing breeze. Hermione watched her leave before placing a few galleons on the table and slipping on her coat, heading back in the opposite direction. She headed up to George's flat and immediately headed over to the fireplace. Once the room was suitably warm, she slid out of her coat and poured herself a glass of wine. She picked up a book about wizarding customs from the coffee table that she'd left there a few days prior, and tried to read but found it difficult to focus on the words.
When she thought about it, she was lucky. Very lucky. She had two beautiful men who would jump over hill and over dale for her, and they frequently told her as much. And she had great friends. Harry, Ginny, Draco… Ron, before. And then there was Pansy. It seemed as though every time Pansy had her chance at happiness within her grasp it was cruelly taken from her.
She felt the book slip from her fingers to the floor, and shook her head, deciding to read instead of focusing on Pansy's misfortune. She blinked a few times and tried to focus on the words in front of her. She was beginning to think that it was pointless when a phrase caught her eye: which results in a wizard being able to love both of the other participants and increasing the chances of happiness and reproduction.
Uhm, what?
She flipped back a page and began to read.
For a yet unknown reason, the majority of children born from magical relations are male, increasing the chances of an unproportionate number of males to females when it comes time for reproduction. As such, nearly every wizard is omnisexual to at least a certain point. When, for one reason or another, the population of the wizarding community is compromised, relationships will begin to revert to a two to one ratio, in which two men and one woman will be able to successfully have a working relationship.
When relationships as such are needed, wizards will begin to seek out their best potential mates from each gender. A wizard who would not typically have found himself attracted to a male would find himself seeking one out, which results in a wizard being able to love both of the other participants and increasing the chances of happiness and reproduction.
When all of the people in the relationship have the ability to love each other, there are less chances of animosity between the men, and the chances of competition between the men would decrease, as they would also be trying to impress each other, rather than just the woman. Relationships like these are highly stable when dealt with appropriately. When the need for children has been met, the triads will often
Hermione flipped the page and was alarmed to find that the next thing in the book was comparing pros and cons of different types of wizarding robes from the 14th century. She flipped the cover to read the back, and groaned when she realized what she had in her hand.
This book is a collection of works retrieved in part from the wreckage of famous libraries, including the library in Alexandria, the House of Wisdom in Baghdad, the Imperial Library of Constantinople, and Glasney College in Cornwall. Due to the nature of the destruction caused to the original works, many are not known to exist in their entirety, and are published here for your convenience in their salvaged forms.
She felt like she could cry. It had never occurred to her to do research on her relationship with the boys as she had figured it was a rarity, but from the sounds of things it was a genetic failsafe, and would be happening sooner or later throughout the community. She glanced at the clock and realized that the boys would be coming home at anytime, and she needed to start dinner.
-0-
It was late by the time the boys had stopped celebrating and finally come back home. Draco had gone home for a while to double check that his house elves had collected Hermione's things during the day as asked and had placed them in the wing of the house that was set aside for her. He was going to be coming back around eight to get Hermione, but until then, she was the boys'.
They checked Fred's flat first for any sign of Hermione, but there was none. There was, however, a muted banging on the other side of the wall.
They headed back out and next door to George's, where Hermione was crouched next to a cupboard trying to reach a pot near the back. Fred slipped his arm in next to her to grab the item in question, placing it in her hands. She had a slightly bewildered look on her face, somewhat unsure of how she should act towards them. They weren't going to keep their relationship where it was, but would she still be allowed to hug them? To kiss them?
She was relieved when the decision was taken from her in the form of two warms bodies sandwiching her between them. Fred twined an arm around her waist while his other hand went up to smooth her hair. George rested his hands on Fred's hips, holding her tighter between them.
"Forget dinner," George whispered. "We have until eight when Draco comes back to take you, and I want to have something to remember when I'm alone."
As cheesy and off putting as that would have sounded otherwise, it was a completely appealing idea at the time, and Hermione gently wiggled herself out of their grasp to go to the bedroom.
"I want you two to count to 300. Then, follow me."
Hermione walked to the bedroom and quietly shut the door behind her, bemoaning the fact that all of her things we already gone. But no matter, she was a capable witch who was running out of time to make due with what she had. She grabbed her wand and quickly removed all clothing save for her bra and underwear. She slightly changed the cut on both of them, and changed the color to a deep magenta, the color that the boys tended to fixate on most often. She defrizzed her hair and lightly fluffed it, before gently laying down on George's bed, waiting for them to finish counting. A few moments later, the door was slowly pushed open, and the two were standing there, shoes off, pant legs rolled to just above the ankles, vests unbuttoned, collars loosened, ties unknotted, and sleeves pushed up their strong forearms.
They simply stood there for a long moment, just watching her. Just… imprinting the image of her in their eyes, all of them thinking that once they applied actual effort to the relationship, it might not turn out to be what they really did need.
There was a chance that this was their last, and not one of them was keen on wasting it.
Fred was the first to move. He slid his vest off, draping it over the arm of a chair, and placed his tie on top of it, before following with his shirt. At that time, George moved from the door, mimicking his brother's actions, until both of them stood there in their boxers, the same magenta that Hermione had made her underwear.
They lay down on the bed next to her, Fred on her left and George on her right. There were hands everywhere, but it was more of a sensual action than a sexual one, no one was blatantly groping, instead there was massaging and caressing. This would be their last time together for a while, if not forever, and no one wanted it to end before they had had their fill of the others.
They took turns kissing lazily, taking care not to monopolize any one person's time. Fred's hands were hot and firm as he rubbed Hermione's shoulders and back while she pressed kisses to George's jaw. There was an odd, heavy feeling in the air, and no one spoke, as if words would be just enough to ruin the moment.
Fred ended up being the one to create the catalyst for things progressing. He had reached around Hermione to reach George and was trailing his hands down George's back when he hit a particularly sensitive spot on his lower back. The sensation caused George to arch his back and inadvertently press his thigh into Hermione's center. She let out a low moan and Fred immediately pressed his lips to hers.
"I need you," she whispered, as if talking louder would ruin the moment. "I need to feel you."
Fred lay down on his back on the bed, pulling Hermione to him for a brief moment. He kissed her softly and held her body to his for a moment before he reached for the wand lying on the bedside table and whispered a lubricating spell. He turned Hermione so that her back was to him and slowly entered her. Her legs immediately moved to his sides so that she could move herself over him, but he quickly remedied that by coaxing them down with his hands and gently pulled her so that her back rested on his chest.
George leaned down and ducked his head to kiss first Hermione, then his brother, before placing himself at Hermione's entrance. He slowly pushed in, the rocking of his body moving Hermione over Fred. Fred let his hands move to her hips to help him move in her, although he mostly left the effort to George's movements. They were all only a few inches apart, and George ducked his head slightly to kiss each of his lovers in turn.
George never would have guessed it before. He simply would not have figured that he could find happiness in the first place, let alone with two different people. When he'd first realized that he was in love with Fred, he'd all but given up hope of ever truly being happy, of ever having kids. He felt that he was the luckiest bastard ever born if he was able to find love like this twice.
All Hermione could feel was heat. It was spreading from somewhere inside of her and engulfing her from the inside out. Or maybe it was the heat from the boys engulfing her from the outside in. She couldn't tell, and she didn't want to, as it made no real difference to her. Fred shifted slightly and all of a sudden the two were pressed closer together inside of her, and she knew that they had to have felt each other, separated by nothing but a thin membrane.
Fred was overwhelmed. Inside, all he could feel was his love for the two people who were moving above him. Outside, all he could feel was the heat of Hermione and the weight of their bodies on him. It wasn't quite unbearable yet, but even when it reached that point he would be unlikely to say anything about it, as the loss would be more uncomfortable than the pressure.
Normally, their actions were hurried and frantic, but now they just focused on each other and the sensations they could cause for the others. Fred let a hand trail up and reach up and around, gently playing with Hermione's clit. That, combined with the ever-spreading heat inside of her, made Hermione the first to come. She came with a low moan, and a hand went to the hair of each of the boys. She needed something tangible between her fingertips.
When she came, she tightened down on the boys, and the change in sensation was enough to make them follow soon after.
Glancing at the clock, they had just enough to take a shower before Draco was due to return. It was a slow shower, but not for the reason that delayed them most mornings. They were taking the time to make sure that they were all washed clean and did so using their hands, rather than a loofah or washcloth. They dried carefully, taking the time to say with their actions what they knew they couldn't say with words. They dressed slowly, and were all standing in the sitting room, hand in hand, when the floo flashed green and Draco stepped through. After a quick greeting, Hermione moved to follow him to the floo.
"Malfoy Manor," he called as he was engulfed in green.
Hermione grabbed a hand of the fine powder and stood in the fireplace. She made eye contact with the boys, who still had their hands clasped together, knuckles white in the only show of tension, and mouthed I love you, before throwing the powder to her feet.
"Malfoy Manor," she called, watching the boys and their kitschy flat fade away as a very different scene took its place.
Draco was calmly seated on the arm of a couch facing the fireplace awaiting her. When she stepped through he smiled at her and stood.
"Okay, it's a Wednesday. Which means, it's halfway through what is bound to be a droll week. Which also means, that it's time for us to get absolutely sloshed on quality spirits. But first, I'll show you your rooms, and we'll eat dinner."
Draco extended an elbow and she placed her hand on it. He led her out of the room toward a flight of stairs. "Don't worry about remembering where things are," he said. "I've got a Marauder-like map for you."
She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Yes, yes. I know all about that little map. In fact, I knew about it when we were at school. But more on that later. I heard that Pansy came and talked to you today. I told her she should, but she didn't seem to think that you'd take her well. I told her that if you could handle talking to me, then you could handle her, but no, Parkinson knows all."
Hermione chuckled internally at the way Draco went on about things, and started talking about Pansy.
"I was a little confused at first. But it sounds like she needs a confidante who happens to be good enough with magic to protect her when her own can't. And I realize that she may originally have come to me just because I'm strong, but if she needs someone to actually be there for her, then I want to be someone she can truly trust."
Draco paused at the top of the stairs and put his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him.
"No. She originally came to you because she saw that I was happier and wanted to know who could possibly have made me as happy as I am now. She asked me if I had a new girlfriend. When I told her no, she asked if I had a new boyfriend. After I managed to convince her that I was not getting laid and that was not the reason for the change, I was able to tell her that what I had really needed was a good friend, and that I was able to find one in you. She realized that you would be someone she could talk to and trust if you were willing to put up with a prat like me."
"You're not a prat," Hermione whispered. "I think you were just a bit misguided."
He smiled down at her and led her farther into the sprawling house. He opened a door to the left and led her in.
Inside was a large sitting room, with a bedroom visible through a door to the right, and a bathroom on the left. Hermione's things had been arranged in the room, she was somewhat confused.
"Who brought my things in?"
Draco lightly called out, "Mitzi, Rosi!"
With a crack, two elves popped into the room. Hermione turned to glare at Draco.
"Elves? You have elves?"
Draco shook his head. "No. I have servants who happen to be elves. I gave them clothes after Father died, but many of them chose to stay, especially the ones who more or less raised me. Mitzi and Rosi were the ones who mostly watched over this wing of the house, and when I clothed them, they said that they were going to stay so that they could help the friend of… who was it?"
The smaller one took a step forward. "Luciana, sir. We have stayed to help the friend of Mistress Luciana."
Draco shook his head. "I don't know a Luciana. Do you? The only Luciana I know of last walked these halls five or six hundred years ago. I hope."
Hermione shook her head. "I don't know of one either."
"Well," Draco said, "At any rate, this is Mitzi and Rosi. They are two of my favorites in the whole house. These two are really something. They more or less raised me when my mother had campaigning to do. I think you'll like them."
Each one of the elves looked up at her with their large eyes, giggling and pushing each other when she smiled down at them.
"Right," Draco started. "We've got wine, brandy, rum, beers-"
"Draco, I'm sorry, but I really don't feel like getting pissed tonight, as appealing as that sounds. I think I'm just going to go to bed early. Next Wednesday, though. It's on."
He smiled at her and lightly hugged her. "Alright. I'll see you in the morning. Night, Hermione."
"Good night, Draco."
Hermione shut the door behind him, and one of the elves, Mitzi, handed her a pair of silk pajamas before winking out of sight with Rosi. She quickly changed for bed and sunk into the plush sheets.
Tomorrow, she had much to do. She still had work in the morning, and then she needed to research how to help Pansy, and then try to find out more about the mystery surrounding the triad relationship.
A/N I'm sorry about the long wait, someone I've known since I was about 8 or 9 passed away very suddenly in one of those ways that makes you chuckle when you hear about it, and then to realize that it really happens… Like, how often do you read a FF where someone just has an aneurysm and dies, and you think really? It happened to this woman I knew, and they took her off of life support about a week and a half ago, and I haven't really wanted to write but I figured I ought. I meant for this to be a bit longer, but I really just wanted to get this out to you guys.
Review, tell me your plans for the winter hols.
