A/N: I promised to give you a 6,000 words long chapter, didn't I? Here it is, I hope you enjoy it.

Thank you, BlueMonkeyz8, for betareading again! I loved your comments :)

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Chapter six: Dangerous Deflections

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I had not been able to sleep that night and had ended up grabbing a book that my mother had given me the last time I had visited her at the house where she and my father stayed at. I was fully ready for the day ahead, having showered and dressed an hour ago already, and I was reading the book on my bed as my roommates reluctantly got up and wandered around the room, carrying their razors and towels.

"Here's a bit of something you may entertain yourself with during your spare time," my mother had told me. "I know what you young men are capable to come up with at your age, I wasn't always this old. Ah well, I'm probably only trying to delude myself into thinking you get preoccupied with literature rather than the other, less desirable options when I give you these books..."

The book I was reading included some speeches made by der Führer, Goebbels, Himmler and some other important Third Reich officials. I found that it was difficult to stop reading as the text was quite captivating.

"--- A fundamental change is necessary. At the risk of sounding reactionary and outdated, let me say this clearly: The first, best, and most suitable place for the women is in the family, and her most glorious duty is to give children to her people and nation, children who can continue the line of generations and who guarantee the immortality of the nation. ---"

Goebbels, the Minister of Propaganda and National Enlightenment. I remember Mother telling me she had been to the opening of women's exhibition in Berlin, in 1933, where Goebbels had given that speech. I had been very young back then and visiting my grandparents in France.

"--- In Germany we have completely broken with a world of prejudices. I look at myself. I am after all a child of the People and I do not come from some castle but from a working-class family. I was not a General either but a soldier like millions of others. There is something wonderful about the fact that in our country an unknown figure from the millions of Germans, German working people and soldiers, could reach the highest position in the Reich and the Nation! At my side stand Germans from all walks of life who ---"

That speech was given by Hitler on the first of May, 1937, in Berlin. One thing about der Führer that had always appealed to me was that he didn't come from a noble higher class family, on the contrary, his father had been a customs official and Hitler himself had wanted to apply to the Academy of Fine Arts in Vienna, although apparently he did not get in and worked as an artist for a while. I don't have any skills on the field of drawing or painting but surely it must have felt extremely frustrating to hear how you are not 'fit' for studying arts.

After reading a few lines of the next speech, though, I suddenly didn't feel well at all.

"---In the SS, today, we still have about one case of homosexuality a month. In a whole year, about eight to ten cases occur in the entire SS. I have now decided upon the following: in each case, these people will naturally be publicly degraded, expelled, and handed over to the courts. Following completion of the punishment imposed by the court, they will be sent, by my order, to a concentration camp, and they will be shot in the concentration camp, while attempting to escape. I will make that known by order to the unit to which the person so infected belonged. Thereby, I hope finally to have done with persons of this type in the SS, and the increasingly healthy blood which we are cultivating for Germany, will be kept pure. ---"

I could feel my skin crawl and cold shivers going down my back. They were never gentle with the supporters of the National Socialist party if they turned out to be blood traitors. Heinrich Himmler had given this speech to the SS Group Commanders on the 18th of February, 1937.

I was startled out of my thoughts as Blaise tapped my shoulder. "Coming to eat?"

I snapped my book shut. "Yeah," I answered, giving him a forced smile.

-

; 23rd of June, 1944, Buchenwald

There had been an incident in one of the blocks and twenty-seven prisoners had been killed by other inmates. I wasn't at all surprised to hear that all of them bore a pink triangle, and judging by the secretively smug expressions on the faces of those with red, green or black triangles - signs of criminals, political prisoners and antisocial prisoners - there was no question about who was to blame – although no one would be blamed, of course. Usually a homosexual would not be able to survive in a camp for longer than two months.

After the prisoners had had their morning roll-call, I was assigned to supervise the pink triangle prisoners as they carried the sand and stones from the right side of the road leading to their block to the left side of the road. Later that day, they were to carry the earth back to the right side. Seeing as they couldn't use any equipment to achieve this, the prisoners' hands often cracked open and the injuries caused them to mewl pathetically.

The day was a very hot one, indeed, and I wanted to gag at the disgusting smell of sweat lingering in the air. I hadn't gone swimming in a long time, and the mere idea of cool, clean water kissing my skin was reviving enough to give me some severely needed extra energy.

"No lazing about, you shitty queers, hurry up!" Ritter urged the inmates that didn't even look up at their commander as they tried to follow his orders, not speaking a word to each other. They knew better than to act that suspiciously under the strict surveillance of the guards. "Jerry, could you take care of that?" he then asked and pointed at a shivering lump on the ground some thirty feet further down the road.

Jerry walked over to the collapsed prisoner and kicked him in the side so that he could see the prisoner's face clearly. "Get back to work!"

The thin-haired inmate continued clutching at their stomach and didn't move, squeezing their eyes shut in pain and shaking violently, skin glistering with perspiration. I walked over to help Jerry out and grabbed the prisoner's arm, jerking him around. This resulted in him howling in pain like an animal and blood trickled down from his mouth, nose and ears. His eyes were getting alarmingly red as the veins burst on their surface, inside them, I don't know. This was not a good sign, and I gave Jerry a meaningful look.

Sighing in frustration, Jerry shot the prisoner and the dreadful screaming stopped immediately. The other prisoners were trying to look like they weren't watching, but judging by the slowness of their working they were not fully concentrating on their tasks.

"Quit gawking and continue working!" I bellowed and marched back to my position by the block where the road led.

By the end of the working day at around 8 pm, all the prisoners, dead or alive, were to gather by their block for an evening roll-call. The dead were laid out at the end of the building to be counted, and later they would be burned in the mortuary.

I was feeling very tired as I stood there, not having slept enough the previous night and having had a long working day in hot weather. My head was pounding with probable sunstroke and I felt slightly nauseous. My eyes were not drooping, but they had gone out of focus and I only stared blankly into nothingness, thinking how much I wanted to go to supper and wash up for the night. I really couldn't be bothered to actually go swimming; it seemed like too much work.

The briefest flash of blond hair caught my eye, though.

Darting to look to my right, I did not see the blond head I had expected to see. Instead, there were prisoners in tattered clothes staring at the ground or the officers, looking ten times as tired as I felt. My gaze continued roaming over the crowd, searching for the man with the radiant light hair and grey eyes.

The roll-call ended and the prisoners started marching back into their blocks.

"Finally the day is over," Jerry stated with great satisfaction. "I'm bloody starving; I could probably eat anything they gave me. Let's go."

"No need to wait for me, Jerry. I'll be there in a minute," I told him and went back to observing the pink triangle prisoners going back to their building.

Jerry just shrugged and walked off, too hungry to ask anything more.

My vision was getting a bit blurry and I needed to shake my head to clear it. I could feel how my skin was becoming hot and damp with sweat, although the temperature outside was not as high anymore as it had been just a few hours earlier. Maybe the flash had just been a figment of my imagination? Maybe I had started hallucinating now? Whatever the case was, these thoughts were enough to make me decide to finally go to eat something, or if my stomach kept doing somersaults, I was going to at least have a glass of water.

The last ones in the line of prisoners going back to their block were passing me by the door when a powerful wave of dizziness suddenly hit me. I swayed on my feet for a few seconds, feeling like I was in a carousel. My legs gave way under me and I collapsed to the ground, everything going black.

I must have been out for only a second or two because when I woke up, it wasn't a friendly face of another SS guard that greeted me as I lay on my back on the ground.

My eyes were slowly going back into focus, and I could tell that the fuzzy figure towering over me was not wearing a uniform. Instead, I distinguished vertical stripes going down the front of the figure's shirt.

I could hear people shouting something that I couldn't make out, like I was underwater while others were above the surface, in another place at another point in time. Everything had frozen, the earth was pulsating beneath me, and I felt air rushing back to my numb body.

I slowly gained my eyesight only to see Draco Malfoy looking into my eyes with an unreadable expression on his face, mouthing words that I did not understand. I felt a hand on my forehead, but it was suddenly wrenched away and the blond man was pulled away from me.

Blinking in confusion, I only saw the darkening sky open in front of my eyes until Ritter entered my line of vision, worry written clearly across his face. He too was saying something and finally the fog in my brain seemed to be dissolving. "… there? Harry, do you hear me?"

Someone was helping me to sit up as I told the other man that, yes, I heard and felt just fine now but I couldn't help holding my forehead. I wasn't a physically weak person at all but the equation of having relatively low blood pressure, having had a long and tiring working day and not having eaten anything since breakfast must have caused me to momentarily pass out.

'Oh, for God's sake! Fainting now, am I? Father's going to be so proud if he hears about this,' I thought to myself with a grimace.

I turned to see the blond man covering his face with both hands as a guard named Jean was hitting him in the head with a baton. Draco's fingers and the front of his shirt were stained with blood. Jean grabbed him by the hair and jerked his head back so that Draco had to lift his hands to take hold of the guard's wrists to ease the pain, and I saw how there was blood flowing out of Draco's nose and the split lip. He received another hard blow in the face and yelped in pain, squeezing his eyes shut. I got a strong feeling of dejá vu.

"Let him go," I said before I could think twice and Jean lifted his eyes to look at me strangely. Ritter stared at me in surprise before looking over at Jean, shaking his head in a way that I interpreted as 'the poor lad must have hit his head really hard.' However, Jean did follow my request and let go of Draco, who was scrambling backwards to lean against the wall of the block with a horrified expression on his pale features. I could almost hear his thoughts of how he was going to die.

For some reason I wanted to laugh, but decided against it since Ritter and others were questioning my mental stability as it was.

"What are we going to do with him?" Jean asked, and Draco inched towards the door, keeping an eye on the guards who were discussing his future, his life, with such ease.

I mustered a cold, uncaring look as I glanced over at the mortified man.

Grey eyes shining with trepidation, Draco Malfoy sank to his knees and surrendered completely, waiting for what was to come and knowing there was nothing he could do about any decision made regarding him. Lip still bleeding, he looked up at me with clear eyes as all colour drained from his face. He did not say a word, did not utter one plea for forgiveness.

To have such a power over someone else was unbelievable exhilarating. He seemed so small, so negligible, kneeling on the ground at my mercy.

While it was obvious that I could do anything with his life, it was not entirely clear what it was that I actually wanted to do with it. The most logical option would of course have been to kill him right there and then, because that was what was done in situations like the one he was in at the time.

However, the idea of seeing the man I knew by the name Draco Malfoy die in front of my own eyes did not appeal to me as much as it probably should have.

"Don't bother doing anything. I'll take care of this," I growled and gave Ritter a determined look. I hoped he didn't notice how I found it slightly difficult to look into his piercing blue eyes for very long.

"Right," Ritter said after a while, stretching the word a little. "Perhaps you also ought to go see the camp doctor, just in case. See you later then, Harry."

Jean gave me an acknowledging nod and joined the other guards as they headed for supper, and I was left alone standing by the door of the block. I watched the others go and whipped my head around to look at the still kneeling inmate. He was now hanging his head and leaning to the ground with his hands, gravel digging into his palms.

Once again, it was only him and me.

"Get up."

The blond slowly eased himself up and cautiously raised his head. I narrowed my eyes. 'All this humbleness must be an act of sorts.'

"What are you going to –?"

"Shut your mouth and come this way."

I knew exactly how familiar a situation it was. For the second time in a fortnight I was leading Draco Malfoy somewhere where other guards and prisoners did not wander very often.

It was getting darker already, and the air was damp with what was obviously going to turn into mist by the morning. The earth beneath my feet was black and sandy as prisoners long since dead had removed all the bigger rocks with their bare hands.

I looked to the sky and saw a couple of dim stars twinkling between the clouds. The moon's cold light shone through the slowly passing clouds that attempted to wipe it out of sight every now and then. The clouds themselves looked like translucent, grey ghosts as they slowly, silently drifted across the darkening sky.

I thought to myself, 'It's going to be a cold night.'

The camp was starting to quiet down as most of the prisoners had done their work for the day and a big portion of the guards had gone to eat. I did not look around too much, in case I came out looking suspicious, but nevertheless I kept my eye on Draco to make sure he did not escape. Surprisingly enough, he followed me like an obedient dog, which was a sign of trust, complete loss of hope, or very smart thinking, seeing as an escape attempt would most certainly have forced me to kill him.

Looking over my shoulder briefly, I also noted that he had cast his eyes to the ground, clearly trying to hide his thoughts and fears from me. I was beginning to feel very restless at this point, for reasons unknown to me.

I had taken us to a small spinney that was not big enough to have cut down and that suited my purposes just fine; it provided enough cover to prevent others from detecting any movement in the twilight. I took hold of Draco's sleeve, glanced to my left and right and yanked him into the bushes. For a few seconds there were sounds of twigs snapping and leaves rustling but then, silence, as we both stilled to listen to any possible footsteps or voices. Only the trees just outside the barbwire fence surrounding the camp were sighing in the light wind.

Draco had sat on the ground and pressed himself into a filbert, but I merely crouched down a little, stepping behind a few young birches. I looked to see if there was anyone else in the vicinity of our hiding place, and, fortunately, I discovered that there was nobody else in sight.

I turned to look at the man who had now wrapped his arms around his knees, shoulders hunched up. He looked so small once again. He had lost a terrible amount of weight since the day he arrived here, which was completely understandable. The jutting collarbones reminded me of those of a fragile bird's and his knees looked knobbly beneath his loose trousers, not to forget that his skin looked greyer and greyer each time I saw him. I could practically see the life leaking out of his body.

"Why did you do it?"

He lifted his head. "What? Why I just…" he started but trailed off, sounding tired. "It was automatic," he finally choked out, looking slightly confused with himself as well. "Sir."

"Automatic?" I asked in wonder, "You said it yourself, 'you don't owe me a thing.' Why on earth would a prisoner do something like that?"

Draco looked away, frowning or scowling, I didn't know, and I heard him mutter something that I didn't catch.

"What was that?"

Through gritted teeth, he hissed, "I said you didn't seem like the other guards. There was something different about you. I acted on instinct."

"'Different'? I am no different from my colleagues! We work for the same cause; we have the same goals and ideals! How dare you insinuate anything else?"

When he turned to look at me, it was as if his eyes were made of ice. The piercing eyes of a dangerous beast were boring into mine and the bottomless darkness of Draco Malfoy's gaze was quite disturbing. "You keep telling that to yourself, but it won't make it any less true. Any friend of yours would have had me beaten to death or worse, but you," he emphasised, "you did no such thing. You've helped me out twice already. You're different from them."

There was no denying the fact that I had not acted like a true SS soldier when I had saved him from death, not only once but twice. Nevertheless, it was unnerving to hear someone call you 'different.' It held such negative connotations that it felt like that one word brought me closer to the prisoners, closer to him. I was not a prisoner. I was free and Draco wasn't.

"You ignorant little vermin, you don't know what you're talking about! Look who's wearing the prisoner's outfit! Not me, you."

He regarded me with an icy, calm gaze. "You are a prisoner of your own uniform but you're too blind to see it."

I had clenched my fists against my sides in fury and narrowed my eyes dangerously. "Hitler is my leader but he is not my keeper. I follow him because I believe in what he says. I'd do anything, anything, for him, and if your kind prevents us from achieving the greater good -"

"Then why did you not let the others kill me there in front of my block? Did you bring me here to do the job yourself? Or…" his voice suddenly became a lot lower, "Or do you want something else from me?"

My stomach felt suddenly very warm and I tried to pull myself together, which was extremely difficult when the blond man was looking at me with a knowing, secretive smile on his face.

"Uh…" I felt my face heat up, "You do not have the right to question me or my reasons! I, however, want to know what you meant by saying you acted on instinct. Answer me!"

The knowing look didn't falter, but the smirk toned down a little as Draco answered, "I was going to become a doctor. It was my calling before I was brought here and it pains me to see all these people like this. It is very easy to occasionally forget that if you make the mistake of helping someone else, it may lead to your own demise. Just today my calling almost cost me my life."

"You wanted to become a doctor?" I asked in amazement.

"Yeah, I did," he repeated. "But none of matters anymore, does it?"

His voice was very bitter and sad. "I guess not."

"I had only just started my studies two years ago," he continued. "In two weeks' time I would have had important exams coming up, so I often read by my desk late into the night. On the streets below I saw how you people went patrolling around and scaring the shit out of the inhabitants of my street, arresting my neighbours one by one. I could hear the screams, the walls weren't very thick.

"I couldn't leave, though I knew it was only a matter of time before they knocked on my door. My cousin was eight months pregnant and so ill that she couldn't even leave the bed, so I had to take care of her. All of her siblings, her husband, and her parents had been taken three months earlier when she had been away, having gone to the hospital for a check up. It almost killed her when she heard the news," Draco said, with a voice that spoke of worry and love towards the said cousin, and I could tell that the man was reliving those moments as he spoke. His features were hard.

"Then one night they finally came to arrest us. I don't know what happened to Dora, I tried to find out, but so far they haven't told me anything. In all probability, she's dead now. She was pregnant with her first child and the illness had taken a great toll on her. It's impossible that she would have survived under those conditions."

I could see how Draco's eyes were getting glossy but he spilled no tears.

"If only I had dared to move her somewhere else…. Then she might have had some chances of surviving, but I was too much of a coward to take the risk. Had I not studied medicine and had I not known what the consequences of moving her would have been, I might have been able to hide her somewhere safer."

I merely listened as he talked. I had not expected to hear all this, but I couldn't bring myself to interrupt him. I was interested in what he was saying.

Draco seemed to snap out of those thoughts and silence fell between us before he looked up at me.

"So what are you going to do with me now? Are you going to kill me?" He was angry, very angry, but there was fear colouring his voice beneath the surface.

His split lip and nose had stopped bleeding, but his shirt and face were still stained with dried blood. Blood and dirt had caked under his fingernails and there was a hole in the elbow of his shirt, making him look a lot like a beggar.

"No," I said. "No, I'm not."

Instantly I knew I was defying my father, defying my Führer and my origin – everything that I had grown up with and grown to respect.

Had I no shame left? Did this, did he outweigh those things?

I asked myself all the questions that others would have asked me had they known what I had done, but I found that I had no concrete answers.

My father was right; my mother had been to kind with me as I did what I wanted to do and failed to do what I was supposed to. She had brought me up to become a weakling, I thought, a weakling with no sense of duty and no future, seeing as I was not in control of myself but instead my emotions, my goddamned emotions had me in a leash, so to speak. I realised that that was a very feminine characteristic.

Then I looked at the blond man half-hidden in a bush. He was unusually pretty for a male, I thought. His lips, now split, were faintly pink and slightly fuller than a man's lips usually were, perhaps due to Jean's blows, and his eyelashes were fairly long and almost white as they framed those clear grey eyes. His shoulders were neither narrow nor wide; his figure was more like a dancer's than someone who lifted weights. His hands reminded me of someone who played piano.

He looked like someone who had great emotions within him and expressed them with effortless grace.

"Do you dance? Do you play piano?" I blurted out, truly wanting to know.

He looked surprised at my question, but answered nonetheless. "I used to dance, yes. My father paid for my dancing lessons ever since I was a child. And my mother taught me to play piano."

I wanted to scream. I wanted to let all my anger loose and rage and rip the leaves out of the trees and I wanted to feel the earth quake in sympathy with me.

How was it possible for someone to get under your skin like that? What had Draco Malfoy done to cause me to behave this way and what was happening to me?

The blond was looking at me suspiciously. "You alright there?"

That angered me further. He was asking if I was alright? He, who was severely malnourished, injured and probably ill, was asking if I, Harry Potter, the son of the camp's leader, was alright? I wanted to throw something at a wall and hear it shatter, but there was nothing for me to break. That was breaking me from the inside.

The twilight had turned into full darkness, the orbs on the sky casting their glow down upon us, the living and the dead. Grasshoppers had started chirping again, reminding me of the time I dragged the drunken Blaise out of the woods.

In the end it all comes down to who plays their cards the best. Jerry might have been a master on that field when talking about Poker, where one is not to give away what their cards are like, but then, at the right moment, they reveal what they have and either win or lose. Jerry often said that life was like a deck of cards, and standing there in the small spinney, I found that he was right.

It was okay to show emotions as long as you won. You can cheat, you can manipulate, and you can think whatever you like, as long as you don't get caught.

Emerson had got caught by me. He hadn't played his cards with enough talent. He had probably fooled his wife, he had fooled his children, and he had fooled us, the other SS guards. Although he had claimed that it had been the first time he thought of a man romantically, erotically, whatever, I hadn't believed him for a second. He called the man in the picture with the name 'Franz,' and doesn't that say just how good friends they were and how well they knew each other? You don't go calling strange men 'Franz,' do you?

My father himself had once said that sometimes one needs to take risks. I know he had taken so many risks in his life that at one time it might have landed him in prison, but now he had achieved his goal. He had fought for his dreams and he had won.

The only thing that I had yet to find out was what I wanted, as simple as that. What was it that I dreamed of? Surely I knew what was expected of me, my father had made sure of that, but so had his parents and still he had gone against them. They hadn't supported him but he had kept his head and carried out his plans in spite of what they had told him to do.

Draco Malfoy was still looking at me, asking again if I was 'alright.'

Perhaps I was not 'alright,' but I could only hope that the direction I was taking wasn't going to lead to my own downfall.

In a blink of an eye I was straddling him, pressing him further into the bush and with wide eyes he quickly looked up. I lifted my hands to cradle his face as I brought it closer to mine and reflexively he raised his hands to rest them on my hips. My whole body was trembling and I thought, panicking slightly, 'Is there anything for me to gain from this?'

I didn't smile, he didn't smile, and slowly I pulled him towards me until there were only a couple of inches separating us. His breathing was warm on my skin and I lowered my hand to caress his neck in a way that was a lot gentler than with Emerson. I needed to be gentler; this man was so different from Emerson, the bastard, whom I only wanted to hurt while I wanted Draco to… to just be far away from others. From Jean and everything. To think of those thoughts was very strange, to say the least.

The air felt heavy to breathe and my eyes were fixed on his and his were on mine.

"Oh my God," he gasped out with a very, very slack-jawed expression on his face.

I felt our noses brush against one another lightly and I tilted my head to the side a little bit, bringing us only a breath away from each other as his lips radiated heat into mine. I licked my own lips hurriedly, but in the process the tip of my tongue accidentally brushed against his lips, too.

Quick as a flash, Draco Malfoy closed the gap between us, pulling me close and crashing his chapped lips onto mine. His lip split open again, becoming very warm and swelling and I could taste the coppery blood on my tongue as it danced against his in a heated kiss, serving only to make me even hungrier for Draco, if possible.

There was want and there was need and suggestion in the kiss, and I found it very hard to think of stopping what I was doing despite who I was doing it with. The exquisite moans that my ears picked up caused me to notice an unexpected erection pressing against my bottom as I had lowered myself to sit in Draco's lap. Even more surprisingly, this seemed like a very desirable reaction as my own body betrayed me and answered in a very similar manner.

With a smack, I tore my lips away from his for a very brief second, grabbed the front of his shirt and forcefully pulled him out of the bush, pushing him to the ground instead so he lay on his back.

'Damn,' I thought, 'to hell with it.'

Once again, I let my animalistic instincts take over and attacked his mouth, taking hold of his wrists which I pinned to the ground as I settled between his slightly parted legs.

"Ahh, mm…" Draco groaned, a sound that sent a shiver running up my spine.

I let myself forget everything and everyone else for that moment, which was something that would have scared me under normal circumstances. I didn't think, only did what felt good to me as we rocked against one another, kissing the whole time. It didn't even occur to me that we weren't being very quiet anymore.

The motion sped up and I let go of his wrists only to caress his side and his hip with my right hand while the left prevented me from crushing him under me. His hands flew to my hair and as his fingers ran through it, I could have purred.

The tingling feeling caused by friction between our clothed erections was building up quickly and I shuddered as he finally arched into me, gasping for air and a long moan escaped his lips. He was still clinging to my neck, kissing me and pressing his body into mine when I felt an orgasm rush through my own body, taking me high as a kite and blinding me with the whiteness of the feeling. It felt like I was somewhere very far away from Buchenwald and the life I had known before.

Soon the air wore very thin between us andmy spent body collapsed on top of his. Gasping for air I buried my face in his neck for a short moment before pulling away.

The reality of the situation then dawned on me and it felt like someone had poured a bucket full of cold water on me. However, I didn't know if it was an unwelcome feeling at all as I actually felt fairly over-heated from what we had just done.

As I lay there, stillon top of him,and looked at the man beneath me, unable to tear my eyes away from him.

His hair was spilled around his head and from the ground he looked at me with heavy eyes, pupils dilated from lust. He was breathing hard, chest heaving rapidly, and, to my delight, his cheeks were flushed bright pink. Draco Malfoy looked exceptionally beautiful as heregarded me with certain warmth and satisfaction in his eyes.

"Wow. I knew you had it in you," he smiled – no, smirked - and I could only stare back.

A/N: I've been a very good girl and updated this story quite quickly despite the obvious drop in the number of reviews. Let me know what you think of this story! Point out errors! Tell me what you feel! Rant!

No teaser this time. I haven't written enough to actually put one here. Some of you also asked about Acrobat, and all I can say is that I am going to update it sometime in the near future, no fears. Also, thank you, you lovely people, for your kind words and for offering to beta read for me. I appreciate it, really I do, but it seems like BlueMonkeyz8 does not detest my writing :) I'd love to reply to all the reviews here at the end of this chapter but apparently it's not allowed anymore. Pity that this place doesn't work like LJ's.

Yours,

-Devilita.

EDIT: Those who are interested in this era should see an oldfilm called 'Schindler's List', by Steven Spielberg. I saw it for the first time when I was 13 or 14 and it really affected me. I borrowed it again a week ago and it still captures my attention with all its intensity. It's a classic, really, and it shouldn't be hard to find. Although mostly black&white, it's absolutely brilliant, definitely worth watching.