Let's get into Draco's head a bit, shall we?

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.


Year 2003, June

Little Hangleton

His knees were starting to hurt.

Fuck.

He had been crouching for too long and his body was complaining. His legs ache and his feet were getting too damn cold. He secured his dark robe closer to his body and took a deep breath through his nostrils, as quietly as he could possibly could. His right hand gripped his wand forcefully and his left hand was planted firmly on the ground beneath him.

The wind blew again, the not-so-hot breeze dishevelling his platinum, blonde hair. He then acknowledged that the hood of his robe had fallen from his head.

Fuck.

He was getting tired of this bullshit. Who knew spying could be such a fucking bother?

And on top of that he was feeling a bit peckish… And had to take a wee. Desperately.

Fucking Death Eaters. What was fucking taking so fucking long?

This was the annoying part no one ever talked about when they were trying to be a fucking hero. All that mattered was the adrenaline, the danger and the glorious aftermath if you were lucky enough to accomplish the task. Nobody talked about the boring, tedious bits; the bits where your body starta to protest about every little thing and you are trying hard just to fucking stay focused. All he wanted was some food and a toilet… and for his fucking kneecaps to grow a pair.

He groaned, silent enough not to draw any attention to himself, as he put the hood over his head. Why was he fucking doing this again? Why the fuck did he care? Since when had he become this righteous person, this wannabe hero?

Draco almost laughed at the irony of it all. No, not almost. He laughed, silently. Draco Malfoy, wannabe hero. How fucking poetic.

He glanced at the clearing just ahead of the bush he was currently crouching behind. The wankers were still inside the damn house. What the fuck were they doing?

This was supposed to be a simple reckon mission. A simple get the tabs on. A simple 'see what they are doing, just to make sure they aren't doing anything'. His knees weren't prepared for this – for this waiting game.

He missed Quidditch. He missed the thrill of being a seeker; of being fast and having fast reflexes. He missed the exercise. Nowadays, he would rarely pick up a broom and when he did, he had to do it carefully. He couldn't be seen. He fucking missed flying. The feeling of being above the world, of being higher than anyone else.

Nowadays, he ran. He ran… a lot. It was his substitute. It was his escape. It was his job. He ran. He always ran. He ran away from and towards. He ran, he crouched, he rolled, he crawled, he –

Fuck. His knees were killing him.

"Fucking wankers, fucking life." He whispered angrily, wincing in pain. He tried to relieve some of the pressure by stretching each leg at a time, trying to keep hidden behind the bothersome shrubbery.

Why was this happening again? Why this? Why? Voldemort was dead. It was over. Fucking move on! Don't cry about it like a bloody baby; don't whine about it like a fucking Hufflepuff!

He peeked at the house again. The faint lights at the window were fading, the shadows were moving.

Ok. This was it.

Draco gripped his wand tighter and felt the sudden jolt of adrenaline pump through his body. He couldn't deny that his excited him. He thrived on this part. The part where he would get one step closer to finding out their next move. He knew they would lead him right to it. He knew them. He had been watching them for over a year. He knew their patterns, their course of action. The little he knew, he knew it well. And he fucking thrived.

The front door opened and out came three hooded figures, one at a time. The last one to emerge was the tallest. As the two first figures went on ahead, the tall one proceeded to cast a spell in the direction of the house.

Draco narrowed his eyes and tried to get a better view of what the figure was doing. He leaned into the shrubbery, ignoring the way some of the leaves brushed painfully against his cheekbones.

Suddenly, the house vanished. In its place now stood a very large, old looking tree. What the…

"A Disillusionment Charm?"

The question had barely left his lips. He didn't even have time to hit himself in the head for being so fucking dumb. Goyle definitely would have made the same stupid mistake and that was the peak of humiliation for Draco. After hours of endless waiting, of knee torture and hazardous bladder conditions… He had to ruin it all with a shitty question. Why no Silencing charm, you fucking idiot?

The spell flew by him, like an arrow, a few millimetres from his precious, robe hidden ears. He only managed to flinch to the right, his body tumbling against the annoying bush, before casting a hex of his own. But the tall figure was far too quick and deflected it with ease.

"Fuck, shit." This was bad.

The figure was coming his way, wand pointed straight at the spot he was currently at. His legs were tangled in the roots and veins of the bush and he struggled to get up. If it weren't for the darkness, Draco knew that the hooded figure would have probably seen him by now and would have probably laughed at how ridiculous the current situation was. Wannabe hero, my fucking ass.

As he attempted to get free from the not-so-convenient-now shrubbery another hex was fired, this one managing to hit his leg that was still caught in the leaves.

Draco bit his tongue, preventing himself from crying out loud and giving away his exact location. He battled with the bush, his left leg painfully aching. He didn't have time to access the leg or see the damage. All he knew was that he still had it, it was still attached to his body and it fucking hurt.

Finally, he was able to break free from the never-hiding-behind-this-again bush and broke out into a run towards the forest. The pain on his left leg was quickly spreading upwards and he took a quick glance at it, as the cold air hit his lungs and the trees moved past him. There was a wet spot on his trousers where he was hit, possibly blood. He needed to check it fast, because the throbbing was rapidly intensifying.

He kept running, the hood on his head not able to stay in place. Fuck. If there was a time where he actually wished he was born with a different colour hair, now was the time. Fuck. Why hadn't he prepared better? He wasn't a fucking amateur. He had been doing this for the last 3 years. And over a simple Disillusionment Charm?

A hex hit a tree just as Draco ran by it.

He cursed again, quickly accessing that whoever was firing those hexes needed to practice their aim. He wondered how it had managed to hit him. Was it just luck? His fucking funeral.

Without diminishing his speed, Draco turned his head to see if the hooded figure was indeed on his tail. He saw a shadow a few meters behind him, moving fast between the dark trees. Whoever this guy was, he knew how to see in the dark.

Draco casted a quick Confundus Charm, but the hex missed.

"Fuck!" He hissed to himself.

He tried to pick up the speed, the adrenaline pumping through his veins and into his muscles. He was panting loudly, his lungs seemingly sucking up all the oxygen available. He turned and fired another hex:

"Everte Statum!"

He nearly snickered when he heard a loud grunt and something heavy hitting the ground. He never once missed this one. Potter could fucking testify to it.

His body was reaching its limit and his leg situation was getting close to unbearable, almost making him wish he had indeed cut it off. But he had to keep going. That hex would only hold the hooded figure for so long. He had to find somewhere to hide, where he could deal with his leg and hurriedly Apparate away.

Fucking hell. They did not pay him enough for this.

Draco snorted. What the hell was he thinking? They didn't pay him at all. To them this was Draco giving back. This was Draco making amends with the bloody wizarding society, with the fucking wankers that ruled over Wizard Britain. This was Draco Malfoy doing what was right. The right thing. This was fucking Malfoy being a fucking hero.

Only he wasn't a hero. He would never be one. He was a Malfoy. He was the son of a Death Eater. He himself had been a Death Eater. The humming on his arm reminded him of that fact. The stronger that Mark hummed and teemed, the more he knew that he would never be a fucking hero, a golden boy, a fucking Harry Potter. And he didn't want to. He didn't want any of it.

He wanted to be left alone, to drown himself in his wealth. He wanted to live the rest of his days buried in a book, in a story, in a fantasy. He wanted a woman at his side, someone that he could shag as he pleased and he wanted to fall asleep in silk sheets, exhausted and naked; satisfied. That was how Draco wanted to live. That is how Draco Malfoy wants to live, like a true fucking king. To live the way a Malfoy deserves to live and will ever deserve to live. That is how he wants to die. Not here, in this fucking forest, running to save his own ass.

So, if he wanted none of it and if he wasn't a hero… what the hell was he doing here in the first place, working for the light? Risking his life for those fucking tossers? Spying on his damn kind!

He almost didn't miss a tree on time, his body not responding to his brain. Fuck, he needed to stop or he would pass out. His breathing was so hard that his ribs were painfully constricting his lungs. He needed to stop. Now.

Just as the thought came into his head, Draco was suddenly pushed to his left. He felt something hit the right side of his body and with a not-so-subtle grunt he collapsed, dirt getting into his nose and mouth, smearing his face. His hurt leg twisted awkwardly and the ground stung the wound.

Merlin, this was not his day.

Quick on his reflexes, he turned upwards on the ground and pointed the wand at the figure looming over him. He only had the time to acknowledge it was not as tall as the other one chasing him, before two quick spells were cast.

"Expelliarmus! Silencio!"

His wand flew from his hand and his frustration couldn't even be heard. The figure was fast. Almost too fast.

Just as Draco began to assume the worst of the worst, the figure collapsed against him, muttering another charm. Draco struggled effortlessly without his wand, trying to pry it off him, but another spell was cast and he suddenly couldn't move.

Fuck. I'm going to die here.

The realization hit him and his heart was pounding frenetically against his ribcage. If he wasn't Silenced, the sound could be heard all over the darkness of the forest. With his body immobilized he tried to scream, yell, talk. He tried but nothing was heard. He was completely and helplessly paralysed, in every possible way.

The figure was straddling him now, sitting unceremoniously against his chest. The hood on its face prevented Draco from looking up to his opponent, his killer.

At least have the decency to look at me whilst you kill me, fucking bastard.

The figure drew its wand again.

Draco Malfoy closed his eyes.

Granger…

And nothing happened.

He opened them again and the figure had indeed cast a spell but it wasn't the spell Draco had been waiting for.

Another Disillusionment Charm?

And it had been cast on them both.

Draco's mouth hung open as the figure slowly revealed the face that was under the hood.

Astoria?

Astoria Greengrass brought one finger to her lips, signalling him to keep quiet. Draco wondered why, since he was silenced, bounded and, apparently, hidden from sight.

And, as if on cue, Draco heard movement to his right. His gaze landed on the tall, running figure that had been after him. It had a slight limp.

At least I managed to hurt the fucker back.

The figure stopped suddenly, looking around at its surroundings. Astoria and Draco remained unmoving and quiet, the Disillusionment Charm serving its purpose. The figure stared right through them as if they weren't even there… and to it, they weren't.

"Did you find him?"

Draco almost snapped his neck to look at another figure approaching them from behind. Astoria gripped his arm, a signal for him to keep still.

"No. He must have Apparated." The tall figure responded.

Draco's eyes narrowed in realization when he heard that voice. His doubts had been confirmed.

Fucking Blaise.

"Leave it. It's risky to stay any longer. Let's go."

He couldn't recognize the second voice.

The second figure, which was smaller than the first, reached forward with what looked like some sort of coin. As the two of them touched the coin, they soon vanished.

A Portkey?

Draco released a breath of relief.

He didn't die. He was alive.

Fuck.

He felt something pull at his leg and looked down to see Astoria ripping his trousers. The blood had stopped gushing but he noticed countless, little veins spreading up his leg, just as it would happen if he were to be bitten by a snake. The wound itself wasn't very big, but the pain was persistent.

"It's an old dark curse. It is eating away at your leg." Astoria informed, before quickly positioning her wand.

Draco's screams were muffled by the Silencio charm. It hurt. Astoria's tiny hands were trying to sooth him, caressing his leg gently as her counter-spell took effect. Draco's vision blurred with the pain. Whatever Blaise had hit him with, it was meant to kill. Draco was lucky it had hit the leg. If it had hit somewhere else…

Time seemed to pass slowly and it felt like hours before the pain began to subside. Draco could feel some fresh tear marks on his cheeks. He normally would have felt ashamed, crying like a child because of some stupid hole on his leg. It reminded him of Longbottom. Of course, the Gryffindor student had, during that final year before the final battle, transformed himself into a brave, young man. But for some reason, Draco would never forget the way Longbottom would cower on their earlier Hogwarts days. He remembered how he would laugh at the boy's distress; how he found it funny and pitiful. And right now, here he was, a man trying to be a hero, crying in the arms of a girl.

Pathetic.

When Draco had finally calmed down, Astoria removed all the charms. She mumbled a quick Reparo on his trousers and proceeded to lift herself of him. She glanced quickly to see if they were indeed alone and momentarily safe.

"Are they gone?" Draco's throat ached and his voice cracked for a second. He sat up on the ground, grabbing his wand in the process.

"I think so, yes." She replied, helping him up.

He took her hand and managed to stand up, leaning slightly against a nearby tree. His leg looked normal now, but it wasn't hundred percent functional yet.

"Thanks."

Astoria merely shrugged in reply, taking another glance at their surroundings.

Draco sighed quietly, feeling guilty. He always felt guilty when she was around, always felt like he owed her something and would never be able to pay her back in full. And she kept increasing the debt.

Astoria Greengrass, sister of Daphne Greegrass, was supposed to be his start at a new life. After he left Hogwarts, Draco wanted nothing more than to sulk and disappear. No, not want… had to. His last minute redemption had earned confusion and pride from some, but disgust, revulsion and hatred from others. Killing off Voldemort had made a huge difference, yes. But you can't expect to change people's mentalities in a heartbeat. Killing the leader may be a huge victory, but it would be years before the thought of blood supremacy would vanish from the Wizarding society, especially in the older families. And a lot of Draco's friends and comrades belonged to those families. Simply put, the end of the war may have brought some safety to Muggleborns and Half-bloods, but for a Pureblood like Draco Malfoy… Let's just say that many of Voldemort's followers, who weren't caught immediately, would happily off Draco at any chance they got.

So, he did what he had to do: he fled. He disappeared. He made arrangements to keep his parents safe and the next day he was gone. And for months he was alone. For months he had travelled places, he had learned knew things. He grew physically and mentally. And one day, on a secluded wizard village north of Ireland, he saw someone he recognized. He saw her on a little café, drinking tea and the moment she looked back at him, she recognized him instantly. Astoria Greengrass had grown into a beautiful, young woman and instead of fleeing from him or hexing his guts, she had smiled. And for the first time in months, Draco felt something was finally changing.

Their relationship was pretty much perfect. She was smart, bright and a beast with her wand. For about a year they travelled together. She rapidly became his companion, his lover and best friend. They were content and happy. He knew he could count on her, for everything. She would always stay by his side. She never fully disclosed what she was doing away from her family or how she came to be with him, but Draco suspected that, unlike what he once thought, some Purebloods simply didn't think like the majority. And Astoria clearly was one of them.

When he proposed, she had said no. Not because she didn't want to. She did, she loved him. But, even though Astoria didn't think like the majority, it didn't mean that she had forgotten her roots and upbringings. She had been raised a Pureblood and things had to be done a certain way.

"We need to head back. You need my family's blessing. And I need yours."

Draco had cursed in response; said they didn't need anyone's fucking blessings but agreed anyway.

Coming back to wizard England had been a shock at first. Things had definitely changed. The Manor was still standing and his parents were still there. Apparently, the Ministry had made a deal with them. In exchange for information, they would help keep them safe. Of course Lucius hadn't been very happy about that but what else could he do? It was either that or Azkaban again.

His mother had wept like a baby when she saw him again and then proceeded to fill him with food. It's not like I starved, mother. I was pretty good at treating myself. I even learned that I'm an exceptionally good cook.

His father, well… Lucius did what was to be expected. Gave him a once over and snorted. Of course, when Draco had informed he was to be engaged to Astoria Greengrass, his father was almost happy. Clearly he had no idea that Astoria did not share the same beliefs as her family. And her family, well, they didn't react as "happily" as Draco's parents. What had they called Draco? A "cowardly traitor"? Or "a cowardly traitor just like his father"? Nevertheless, the engagement was settled. Draco Malfoy would marry Astoria Greengrass.

And for a while, that's all he had wanted. Astoria was his clean start; she was the hope to a new life for Draco. She was everything he wanted in a woman. She was perfect for him. She was…

A noise startled him from his thoughts. Astoria had heard it as well. They both started hard at the direction from which it had come from, expecting someone or something and slumped their shoulders in relief, once they found out it was just a rat.

"We should go. I'll take you." She offered, putting her wand back in her robes.

"I'm fine. I can make it home ok." He countered, limping towards her.

"That curse was a powerful one, you'll be feeling it for days. It's best if I take you." She replied, a concerned look on her features.

"How did you know what it was?"

He could feel her snort in the dark. "Don't forget who you are talking with, Draco."

He smirked back at her. Right. Before leaving England, Astoria had been studying to be a Healer. And she was a fucking good Healer. The best he had seen, Madame Pomfrey excluded.

Beautiful, smart, one damn good Healer and still… Draco couldn't go through with it. He couldn't go through with the engagement, the wedding, the relationship… He couldn't go through with any of it. And all because of one stupid mistake; all because of one fucking glance, at the wrong fucking place, at the wrong fucking time.

"So, now we know for sure Blaise is a part of this." She stated, helping him limp away to the farthest point of the forest, so they could Apparate away. "Are you going to tell the Ministry?"

Draco seemed to think about it. He already told the Ministry about his suspicions regarding the dark skinned wizard. He knew Blaise was somewhat involved, but having the confirmation shoved in his face... it upset him. His relationship with Blaise had taken a toll for the worst, after both of them became associated with Voldemort. Blaise finally showed his true colours and Draco became aware that his hatred for Muggleborns was deep, so deep, that in fact he tried to kill Granger.

He grimaced. Didn't he try to do the same?

The point is, after that, Blaise and Draco kind of went through different paths and after Draco's jump to the light, he never heard of Blaise again. He knew that the Ministry failed to capture him, but somewhere along the way, Draco had a slight hope that the dark wizard would come to his senses. He clearly didn't. He had heard stories and he had seen first hand what Blaise could do, especially during those awful, disgusting summonings to Voldemort's presence. Suspecting Blaise's involvement didn't surprise him, but experiencing it first hand, well... that was a different matter.

"I have to think about it. If I do tell them, I have to make sure they keep the fucking cavalry from charging. One wrong move and it's over." He frowned at the thought of the Golden Trio springing to the rescue. "Also, they now know someone is spying on them, so they'll be more careful from here on out."

"Do you think they'll retaliate?"

"Possibly, yes. They still don't know who the spy is or if he belongs to the Ministry or any other organization. What they do know is who the Ministry is keeping tabs on and who is still on the lamb. And they are doing a fucking good job keeping under the radar. Whatever it is they are planning, they are doing it soon. They have been bloody restless this past week."

"Who do you think? Muggleborns first, right?" She asked.

"If they are still honouring that demented, old sicko's wishes, I won't be surprised if there's an attack on the Muggle world."

He sighed, his leg still complaining. Also, if Blaise was indeed in charge or responsible, Muggleborns will be the unsurprising first target. Had Draco truly been like Blaise at one point in his life? It all seemed so ludicrous now, this hate for other wizards, this mission to make Purebloods the only ones worthy of living and experiencing magic. How can Blaise still think this way? Hadn't he grown at all? Hadn't he seen the bigger picture yet?

"You should warn Granger." Astoria advised him.

Draco didn't reply as they kept limp-walking.

Granger. It all went back to Granger. Fucking Hermione Granger… Well, Weasley now.

Astoria noticed the change in his posture, how his limbs tensed and how his eyes lowered to the ground. She was reminded of the day he had told her about his affair – if you could call it that – with Granger, during his final year at Hogwarts. She had been consumed, not by his tale of the events but by the way his body responded when he talked or thought about Hermione Granger. Draco Malfoy had never been so tense and so excited at the same time. He was hurting and gleaming all together. And the way her name rolled of his tongue… Astoria knew it hadn't been a simple affair. Draco Malfoy had loved Hermione Granger. He had loved her bad. He had loved her in a way he would never love Astoria. And Hermione had been the main reason for him to change his beliefs, for him to make the jump to the other side. She had been his saviour.

So, when he broke off the engagement, she wasn't surprised. She wasn't surprised at the reason behind it and she certainly wasn't surprised it happened when it did. Draco Malfoy may have been lots of things, but the one thing that she could never hold up against him was lack of honesty. Draco was always honest with her, always told her what he felt and thought. And that is exactly what happened. He had seen her, he had seen Granger… and everything came rushing back. They didn't even talk, she didn't even saw him, but it had been enough for him. And when he had learned that something was going on in the Pureblood circle; something deep, something secret, something no one was supposed to know, he knew he couldn't let happen. For her, for everything, for the wizards, for the Muggleborns and Half-bloods… but especially for her. She had saved him and he wouldn't not save her.

"I can handle it. Granger doesn't need to know a thing." He finally said, the sound of his voice echoing in the trees.

"You work with the Ministry, Draco. You have an obligation – "

Draco didn't even let her finish "Oh for fuck's sake, you sound like her now. I have no bloody obligations to those people. I'm doing them a favour and I get to choose what to tell them and who to tell it to."

Astoria frowned and stood in front of him, a scowl on her face.

"Stop being so dramatic. You need help. You can't do this alone, not even with me saving your bloody ass every-time you get into trouble."

"Nobody asked you to save me." He replied coldly. He knew he wasn't being fair, but after being crouched for hours, making an idiot mistake, getting hit and becoming close to losing his leg or worse and still having the need to pee and eat, was making him a bit cranky.

Astoria was slitting him apart with her stare.

She knew she didn't need to be doing this. He never asked her for anything. After they parted ways, Draco disappeared again. And for another year she heard nothing from him. She ended up finishing her studies and became a Healer. She eventually moved to another town, London not being her favourite place. She started a whole new life for herself and even went on a few dates. But she knew who the love of her life was, even though, he would never love her back. So, again, when she encountered him, bleeding and broken at her doorstep, almost dead, she just couldn't leave him be.

She tended to him, healed him and all the while he told her where he had been, what he had seen and the dangers of what was to come. He never did tell her how he had found out where she lived, but that was his secret cry for help. He couldn't do it alone and even though he never asked her directly for it, she made a deal with herself and agreed to aid him. Because that is what you do for the ones you love, right? First and foremost, Draco Malfoy was her friend and Astoria was there for her friends.

She kept staring hard at him, waiting for the apology he would never give out loud. He was stubborn like that. He growled in annoyance, before finally mumbling:

"I'll tell them."

And that was Draco Malfoy apologizing.

Astoria grabbed his arm again and they began walking. A few more minutes and they would reach the edge of the forest. She would Apparate them to his house, make sure he was ok and then head back to her own place.

"Have you went to see your parents, yet?" She asked, secretly knowing the answer.

"No." That was all he said.

"Too dangerous?"

"I don't know… but I don't want to find out."

She nodded in agreement.

They were almost out of the woods – literally – and Astoria secretly wished things could be different. When Draco had told her he was going to the Ministry, she was apprehensive but glad. If he had more help it meant that, maybe, she could relax a little in her duty to be there for him. But she knew half the reason he was going to the Ministry was because of Granger.

After he heard that Hermione was finally getting married to Ron Weasley, something inside him snapped. And Astoria could only watch as he unravelled. Even with her engagement to Weasley, Draco wouldn't stop. He kept risking his life, finding out more and working hard. Hermione Granger had no idea that Draco Malfoy was risking everything just to keep her safe and she wouldn't even dream that Astoria Greengrass was aiding him on his mission. She had a slight hope that once Hermione got married, Draco would just stop and give up, but on the contrary. He kept going. And now he was in the Ministry and he would see her and talk to her and…

Astoria sighed, defeated. She was a stupid woman. After years of being away, she had to deal with it all over again. She wasn't sure she could this time.

Draco turned his head at her sigh and felt his heart constrict with pain. Once again, he owed Astoria his life. He almost resented her for it, knowing he would never be able to thank her enough or give her what she truly wanted. He knew she was still in love with him, why else would she be doing this? As much as Astoria didn't share the Pureblood vision, he knew she would never enter a War without an ulterior motive. It wasn't that she didn't care, it was just… She was the neutral one. She would do her part as the Healer and that was it.

When he went to her, after not going ahead with his engagement, Draco felt horrible. He was badly hurt, had practically been maimed by a vampire and the only person he could think of was Astoria. He had learned from a close source that she was living near Manchester and next thing he knew, he was sitting at her doorstep, barely breathing. And when she had helped him, he owed her at least an explanation. He didn't expect her to join his cause, he never once thought about asking her. He didn't have the right. But she did anyway and, right now, she was his greatest ally. He could never repay her enough.

She had supported him when he told her he was going to the Ministry, even though part of the reason was because of Granger's marriage. Draco Malfoy wasn't many things, but he was certainly an idiot to still love a woman who was married to another. To still care so much, to risk his life and ally himself with people he resented. To have his chest swell up every time he saw her or talked to her. He was painfully, desperately in love with fucking Granger and if he had to die for her… so be it. If that made him the hero he never wanted to be, he would pay the price for it. Anything for her.

He groaned. Merlin, he was, indeed, a fool.

He took a glance at the woman assisting him and just as he went to open his mouth to mutter "I'm sor–" Astoria cut him short, jabbing her elbow into his chest.

"Don't apologize, Malfoy. Just fucking walk. You are bloody heavy and this forest is damp and cold and I want to go home. So, move it."

And he did.


First of all, I'm truly sorry for not updating for like... two months? Yeah. God. Adult life man... Work and work and work. Sigh.

I had the whole thing mapped in my head, with a special chapter prepared for Christmas (my gift to you amazing people) but work and life got in the way. Not making up excuses! The chapter is ready and I'll upload it as soon as I start writing the next one.

Anyway, I hope you are enjoying this story and thank-you for sticking with it.

And, of course, have a wonderful day/night wherever you are in the world :)