Review offering insight to the story:

"I've been out of the Harry Potter Fan Fiction loop for quite awhile now, and finally decided to give it another look. And I don't think that I could have returned to a better piece of work. This is absolutely and utterly amazing. I was up until three last night reading the whole thing! I just couldn't stop, and now I cannot wait for more! I love the way you write Draco. He is just perfect, with the balance of subtle humor and sarcasm but also his thoughts and worries about Hermione. Few writers can truly convey such real and strong emotions between two characters, and you've got it down to an art. I really believe that they love each other, and the details you use are incredible! That type of relationship is what everyone searches for and you write it beautifully. My review can't do justice to how reading this story made me feel, but you're definitely doing something right! I'm eagerly anticipating the next update. Oh, and I love the long chapters! They never fail to keep me on the edge of my seat!" - Joelle of FanFiction net.

Thank you to the following reviewers: Black Mirror, BlackDemonAngel, J-R-R13, RipleyWriter93, AnaDry, WitchAllonby, cmtaylor531, Toxxic-Hugs, Jester08, ginsensu, blondiexoxo, MiKaYGiRl, livelife-loveHGDM, Zarroc, MigratingCoconuts06, brokenblackangel, Chrissy, spiegel-octopi, Danielle, rachulk, Annon Ymous, lilmzhln18, niic smiles, ProperT, Pheydre, Kourui, MsRisa, Natural-181, mskiti, nelygirl, flowersinmyhair, hanvu, quiet-mg, Steelo, mrs.draco.malfoy.2010, Sociopathic Slytherin Assas..., Sam's firefly, Ar-Narwen, sarahyyy, Laendra, RedRoseGrave and especially Joelle, xmisundrast00d, CrystalizedHeart (Mel), SeanEmma4Evr, galloping-goose (Zeus) and laugh.live.learn (Rachel).

Secret Life

Chapter Seven

Draco walked through his painfully quiet house with an aching body and a hollow heart. He had spent the better half of an hour trying to help Rowena get dressed, but she absolutely did not want to wear anything he considered to be normal. In the end, she was dressed in a pink tutu with an orange shirt and a pair of yellow pants. She called it her ballerina outfit and said that her mum would be proud, so Draco didn't argue anymore.

They ate a silent breakfast, where she mostly picked at her food and stared up at her dad sadly, her lip jutted out. She kept by him as much as possible, which had him nearly tripping over her small body at every turn. He understood why she was doing it, she was scared and confused about the whereabouts of her mother and likely worried when he too would disappear. He wanted to tell her it was all going to be fine, that Hermione would be home any minute, but his words were coming out less meaningful lately and he hated how despondent she looked whenever he said it.

Rubbing his hand against his face, he frowned at the harsh feel of a few days growth, but didn't shave given that they were behind schedule. He had to bring Winnie over to Ginny and Blaise's before coming back to meet up with Neville and begin work on finding his wife. He was pretty sure he looked like crap, like he'd literally been trampled on by a hoard of Hippogriffs and then left to stew in his own depressive state. He felt like it anyway.

Rowena had looked a little startled when he woke her up, even going so far as to cry and touch his face with concern. She kept asking him if he was okay, or if she needed to make him soup and put him to bed. He even saw her fetch her favorite blanket earlier, and watched sadly as she tried to put it across his legs while he sat at the table eating his dry porridge. She patted his leg after and left him with a hopeful smile and a reassuring kiss on the cheek, which she had to climb up him to do. She was a little Healer in the making, certainly her mother's daughter.

"I don't wanna go to aunt Ginny's," she protested quietly, swirling her spoon in her breakfast.

"You have to," Draco replied, clearing his throat after it came out thick and croaky. "You'll only be there a few hours, okay? You can read, bake, whatever you want. You know your aunt has been missing you," he reminded, trying his best to smile at her but finding it nearly impossible.

Waking up that morning had been hell. His entire body told him not to move, his heart nearly leapt out of his chest when he felt around on Hermione's side of the bed and found nothing but air. His hand curled up in the sheet, pulling it into his fist and nearly tearing it with his angry loneliness. He had rolled off the bed, feeling cold and lifeless, drug clothes he hadn't even bothered looking at on, and then went to wake up his daughter. They had overslept by an hour or so, which was very abnormal for them, and reminded him once more of how things changed without Hermione. He didn't like change. He didn't want it. He wanted his wife back.

His eyes had been stinging all morning and though he blamed it on the fact that he still felt tired, still felt like he was dragging himself around, he knew that there were tears sitting in them. They were a constant now. He had no idea what it felt like to be lost until he didn't have her. Now he always felt like something was missing and it was driving him insane. He needed her. He needed to smell her sweet scent, to touch her soft skin, to hold her warm body against his. He couldn't keep doing this; he didn't know how to be without her.

"Please daddy," Rowena pleaded, her voice sounding wrought with tears. "Please don't make me go," she cried, shaking her head and standing up in her chair to stare at him with her beautiful eyes. "I'll be real quiet and I'll just... I'll play with my dollies upstairs. Don't make me go. I don't wanna go," she sobbed, her little hands fisted at her sides as tears streamed down her face.

Draco felt his throat constrict, he stood up from the table and hauled his daughter up into his arms. She collapsed against him, her arms wrapping around him tightly and her face burying in his shoulder. "I want mummy," she told him, her tiny fingers tugging on the ends of his hair. "I want it to be me, you, and mummy again, daddy. Will you bring her back? Please?" she whimpered, her body shaking against him.

Draco's legs gave out on him and he fell to the floor, cradling his daughter against his chest and silently crying against her. "Yeah," he managed, nodding quickly. "Yeah I'll bring mummy home to us, okay? Soon, Winnie. I promise you. Mummy... She'll..." He clenched his eyes shut and tightened his jaw, praying that he wouldn't openly sob for his missing wife. He couldn't do it. Not in front of his little girl. He'd scare her and he couldn't bare to admit that Hermione might not... That she might not even be alive to come back to them.

He held her there for a long time, waiting until her crying slowed and she lay quietly against him, fiddling with his shirt and wiping her nose on his sleeve like any five year old would. Finally, he rose from the floor, wiped his eyes with the back of his arm and got them ready to go to Ginny's. She didn't protest this time, but he could see from the look in her eyes that she wanted nothing more than to cuddle up against him for the remainder of the day.

He picked her up, holding her close to his chest as he shut and locked the door. He walked down the reddish-brown driveway until he felt the apparition wards behind him and then whisked them away to the back property of Zabini Manor. The air was crisp and his every footstep sounded loud and grating in his ears. He was so restless lately, and his mind always felt on edge. When he reached the front door, Ginny met him there, barely giving him enough time to knock.

She stared at him in wide-eyed shock before managing to cover it and reaching out to take Winnie from his arms. He nearly stepped back, feeling the sudden urge not to let her go, but he knew he was just being overprotective. Having no idea where Hermione was made him fear that his little girl would be gone soon too. "Winnie, sweetheart, why don't you go in and get a cookie from Xyro?" she asked, nudging the little girl toward the kitchen and the helpful house-elf waiting.

Rowena didn't reply, instead turning back to her dad and wrapping her arms around his legs. He knelt down beside her, his hands running over her hair and cupping her small face. She sniffled, staring at him with her lip jutted out and making a hiccuping sound. Her eyes were littered with tears and they shined up at him, wide and pleading.

"Give your dad a kiss goodbye, doll," he told her, pulling her a little closer. "I'll be back in a few hours, and I want you to be extra good for your aunt, okay?"

She stared at him a moment, looking desperately upset, but she nodded all the same and leaned in to hug him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, holding him against her awhile longer. "I love you, daddy," she told him, squeezing him tight.

"I love you, too," he whispered, closing his eyes against the burst of emotion that ran through him. He let her go and then motioned for her to go off to the kitchen as Ginny had told her to. He watched her apprehensive walk backwards until she finally turned around and disappeared through the swinging door.

"Oh Merlin, Draco, are you okay?" Ginny burst out the second his daughter was out of sight. He knew he looked a fright, but it wasn't as if he had missing limbs or anything.

He simply blinked at her, feeling as if the question didn't need an answer. She reached out though, wrapping her arm in his and walking them toward the den, where he assumed Blaise would be. She opened the doors wide and they were half way across the room before Blaise turned to them, a grin that evaporated as quickly as it had appeared. He also dropped the glass tumbler in his hand, causing a burst of liquid to scatter over the hardwood floors. His best mate since he was but a small child stared at him with shock and worry.

He looked down, making sure he really did have all of his limbs still intact. Yup. Ten fingers, two feet, two legs, two arms, one long torso, and he could feel his head was still on his neck, which was obviously on his shoulders. So, he was still put together, that wasn't it. His clothes were a little mismatching, but he guessed that wasn't cause for too much panic. So he was wearing brown pants with a light blue sweater, it wasn't really a crime. And yes, he happened to be wearing one grey sock and one black, but it wasn't as if they could really see that, right?

"Draco," Blaise said slowly, staring at him with unrestrained concern. "D'you need to sit down?"

"Why?" he asked, his tone letting out no emotion at all.

"Have... Have you slept at all?" he wondered, slowly crossing the room to stand near him. "Have you seen yourself?" he queried, his brow lifting.

Draco shrugged. He remembered falling asleep and then waking up, something that happened all through the night. It wasn't until an hour before he was scheduled to get up that he had actually gotten more than two hours sleep. He hadn't bothered looking in the mirror, instead dressing quickly, running his hands through his hair and getting Winnie ready.

Ginny led him over to a couch, helping him sit down as if he were incapable. He was fairly sure he could've just let his body slump down onto the expensive but comfortable piece of furniture, but neither Ginny or Blaise appeared to agree. They were sharing apprehensive glances, both looking terribly upset and staring at him off and on, trying rather pathetically to act as if they weren't.

"What?" he ground out, finally becoming irritated.

"You... Well you look horrible, Draco," Blaise told him, seriously emphasizing the one word. "Your eyes are blood shot, you've got bags beneath 'em, your hair is a mess, your clothes are all wrinkled, and by the Gods mate... You just... You look half dead," he finished, shaking his head and staring at him with wide eyes.

Draco didn't take offense, instead sighing and turning his attention away from them. "Yeah, well," he said, swallowing thickly and feeling as if he could be swallowed whole by the couch and not care.

There was a noise by the door and the two people in front of him turned to see Rowena walk inside, looking just as upset as her father, though not holding any physically ill attributes, thankfully. She held a whole cookie in her hand, not looking the least bit excited by having her favorite dessert ready to be eaten. She hardly spared Ginny or Blaise a glance before she climbed up onto the couch and settled herself in her father's lap. She stared him in the eye and then broke off a piece of her cookie. "You eat this, daddy, it'll make you feel better," she told him, holding it against his mouth.

Draco's eyes fell to the chunk of cookie and a ball of pain lodged itself in his throat. He took it from her hand, nodding his thanks to her and then put his head back against the couch. She shifted so she was leaning back against him, her head falling to rest against his chest. She let out a soft sigh, shaking a little until he wrapped his arm around her. He hated how quiet it was, he needed somebody to speak, something to happen. He couldn't take the silence anymore. He wanted to hear her voice, to listen to her soft laugh or the amused snort she gave when she disagreed with him. "Have you talked to Neville?" he asked, his voice coming out like a thick rumble.

"Yes," Blaise replied, sounding as if he were forcing cheer. "He'll be arriving at your house any minute now. We should get going."

Draco nodded, tipping his head up so he could see his baby girl in his arms. He moved to stand, noticing how his friends nearly bolted to his side to help him. He had no trouble though, even if he felt his insides shaking. He kissed the top of Winnie's head and then handed her to Ginny. "She didn't eat her breakfast, make sure she has something," he told her, running his curved finger down his daughter's cheek.

Blaise and Ginny shared a conversation through their eyes before he broke away to walk with Draco across the front property to get away from the apparition wards. Their was an unspoken agreement hanging about in the air where Draco made certain his friend knew he didn't want to talk about the deterioration of his appearance as of late. When they arrived at his house, Draco spotted Neville lounging in the swinging chair on the porch, his legs were propped up and his head was lolled back against his crossed arms.

"Neville, wake up old chap, this isn't the time to be lazing about," Blaise called out, startling the boy on the swing.

Neville nearly flew off the swing, managing to show a little of his old clumsy self when his feet got tangled in the chain holding it up. He was able to get to a standing position right quick though and Draco nearly smiled at seeing the act of childlike behavior, but his mood immediately went south when his long time friend stared at him in shock, much like Blaise and Ginny had when they set eyes on him.

"Blimey, Draco," Neville exclaimed, coming down from the porch to walk toward them. "Is everything okay? I mean, you look hellish!" he half-shouted. He didn't appear to be noticing Blaise's shaking head and vehement expression for him to stop talking. Draco couldn't be mad at him, he was only showing his concern, but he really hated to be coddled. "Should we take you to a Healer? D'you want to lie down? I could go back an' get my Patti, if you like! She'll fix you up, bang on!" he offered, his feet hurrying as he began to descend the hill to get outside of the apparition wards.

"Come on, Nev," Draco beckoned, shaking his head and waving for him to come back. "I'm fine. Really. Yes, I look like horrible, but it's nothing. Now can we please talk about more important issues?" he asked, unable to keep the chill from his voice. "I want my wife back and getting rid of a few problems you two have with my mug, isn't going to get her for me, is it?"

"N-No," Neville stuttered, looking apologetic and a wee bit scared. He gathered his wits about him though, remembering that Draco was his friend and he was simply hurting over the disappearance of Hermione. He cleared his throat, straightening himself out and hurrying to keep stride with Draco and Blaise as they made their way up to the house.

Draco took off the locking charms and kicked his shoes off at the door. He could hear Hermione's voice in his head reminding, "Draco, don't leave your shoes on! You'll track mud around the house. OH! Winnie, don't do what your dad does! Take your shoes off, bug!" She always used the affectionate nickname for her daughter, ever since she was three and found a question for everything. Hermione had called her a little bug and the name had stuck ever since.

He felt a pained ache strike his chest and when he noticed his hand rubbing over his heart, he cleared his throat and walked into the living room. He ignored the way Neville and Blaise seemed to look at each other, as if sharing their concerns non-verbally. He knew what they were thinking, probably wanted to check him into St. Mungo's until Hermione was found. So he was looking a little unhealthy and his attitude was becoming rather cold, so what? They wouldn't be so happy if Ginny or Patti were missing, would they?

Slumping onto the couch, he motioned for them to sit down somewhere. He felt uncomfortable on the furniture, the way the fabric felt so cool and the seat beside him so empty. Hermione and him would often sprawl out on the couch, cuddling or reading, just spending some time together. He needed that now. Needed her.

"All right, so we know her schedule," Neville said, his tone clear and his body language showing he wanted to get right down to business. "My Patti told me the last time she saw 'Mione was right before she went home at 5:30. 'Mione did mention dropping off a slip at the Ministry, but Patti's not sure if she did or not. She also said she can't remember if Hermione stayed late for paperwork, but she'll find out for us. She's checking her calender later this afternoon when she stops in for some papers."

"She went back to do paperwork. She left me a note saying she had to catch up on a few things." Draco nodded, his hands clasping over his abdomen. "I can have someone look in to see if she's dropped off her slip. A few officials owe me favors," he told them, frowning.

"Do Harry or Ron know anything yet?" Neville wondered, crossing his arms loosely over his chest and staring at his friend curiously. His eyes didn't stay on Draco long, almost looking sad to have to see his friend in the state he was in.

"Not to my knowledge. When I last asked, they said they hadn't found anything vital yet," Draco replied.

"Did she come home for dinner that night?" Blaise wondered, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees as he stared at Draco questioningly.

Draco nodded, lifting one of his hands to rub at his brow which had furrowed and given him a headache. "Yeah, she hung around to talk to Winnie about the rocks she'd picked up down by the creek too. Then she left for St. Mungo's again, said she'd be home later that night. That she'd wake me up when she got in," he told them, his jaw tightening.

They had plans, which wasn't unusual. Having a five year old daughter and a set schedule left little time for them to be alone. And so most nights they'd plan something like giving each other a nice massage or reading a book together on the couch. They didn't want the intimate part of their relationship to fall apart due to work, stress, and outside duties. They had a very affectionate marriage and whenever they had time alone, they used it to their advantage.

He wasn't used to not having her near by, it was an unnerving feeling not having her skin against his for so long. He longed for her breath against his neck while they slept, her lips against his, her hand curled in his palm, her body molded to his side. He'd spent so much time with her that any of it without her didn't feel real at all. He couldn't bear the idea that he wouldn't have her. Merlin's beard, it had only been four or five days and he was already falling apart. He wouldn't make it without her.

Draco rose from his seat, walking over to the fireplace and lifting the tied bag of powder from the mantel. Without explaining his actions to the two people behind him, he tossed some of the gritty powder into the grate and said who he was calling upon. Before long, Tyler Thickbelly was sticking his rounded, nervous face into the fire to speak to Draco.

"M-M-Mister M-Malfoy," he stuttered, his tiny eyes bulging out in fear. "To what do I owe this p-pleasant call?" he queried, partly shaking as he stared up at Draco with shock, likely at his appearance.

Draco had become a well known person over the years and most people greeted him with a certain amount of gratitude and praise. Others were less pleased with him, those closer to his father's dealings, and they saw him as a mark of disdain. While Draco had inside people working every angle, there was always a chance of a rat and he sometimes wondered if Thickbelly was it. He seemed too scared for his own hide to go against Draco though, and so he usually kept Draco's secrets for him.

The only secrets he had were those involving Hermione and Rowena. His business dealings were always legit and there was never anything to hide. However, his life was kept incredibly secretive and that caused a lot of suspicious eyes to turn his way. Thickbelly had been working for him ever since he got his start in the Ministry and he hadn't once failed him, but he was a nervous fellow and he was duly scared of Lucius Malfoy's wrath.

"Are you alone, Thickbelly?" he asked, lifting a brow with suspicion.

Tyler looked back, his eyes scanning the area before he turned back. "Yes sir, all alone. There's nobody but me pet kneazle walkin' 'round," he assured.

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes and crossed his arms behind his back, clasping one wrist with his hand. "I need to know if my wife came in and dropped off anything lately. More importantly within the last five days."

"One m-moment, sir," he said, before scurrying away.

It took a short while, so Draco leaned against the fireplace mantel; carefully avoiding looking at Neville or Blaise as he could see that they were still silently speaking volumes about his appearance. He decided as soon as his conversation was over with Thickbelly, that he'd make his way up to the bathroom to see what all the fuss was about. Honestly, he couldn't look that bad.

"M-Mister Malfoy," called Tyler's unsure voice.

Draco bent low, returning his attention to the Ministry official. "Yes, what've you found?" he asked, trying not to get his hopes up.

"It appears that your wife came in at nearly eight o'clock four days past," he told him, nodding curiously. "Yes, she dropped off a few papers asking about the progress behind her queued Law and stated that she wanted to know if any revisions needed to be made. She left shortly after, a few minutes past eight. It appears, from the pensieve memory of one of the guards, that she was escorted away by someone wearing a black cape. His face was covered and he was assisted by three others, though they never approached her."

Draco felt himself seething on the inside and felt the dark urge to reach into the fire and strangle the man in front of him. "Why," he said through grit teeth, "didn't your guard do anything to stop a bunch of cloaked men," his voice was raising with his anger, "from taking my wife?"

Tyler Thickbelly began to shake with obvious fear, staring up with nearly tearful eyes. "I- I don't know, sir. He said they appeared harmless, and your wife wasn't putting up a fight. He said he assumed she had been waiting for them, because she never called out for help or even slowed in her walking. Really, Mr. Malfoy, he thought she was in good hands," he told him, quickly, nodding his head and looking terribly hopeful.

"Listen to me very closely, Thickbelly," Draco said, his voice dangerously low. "If I find out that you're hiding anything from me, anything at all, or that you had something to do with this," he said, staring at him with thin, dark eyes, "I will slice you open from your thick belly to your rounded throat," he warned. "D'you understand me?"

"Y-yes, sir, Mister Malfoy, sir. I didn't, I swear! I know nothing of where your wife is. I was expecting her to show back up a few days ago, so she could get the information needed for the new Law," he told him hurriedly.

"What information?" Draco asked, taking no time to calm himself from his already raging attitude.

It was rare that his darker side came out any longer, and most wouldn't believe him to be able to do such atrocities as he had promised Tyler. However, he knew that if he found Hermione was in danger or possibly dead, and Thickbelly had something to do with it, instinct would take over and his heart and mind would take a back seat. He'd gut the large man for ever thinking he could do harm to Draco's wife, along with anybody who helped. As it was, he had plans for the four cloaked men who took her from him, and all of them involved the perpetrators lying in a pool of their own blood.

"Recently, many officials have been gathering to discuss her new Law and while it hasn't exactly been passed, it's getting a lot of attention," Tyler explained, his voice shaking as he spoke to the man before him. "Not entirely good attention, you understand," he continued, looking contrite. "A lot of the older officials are sayin' she's changing too much, that this new Law is preposterous." Thickbelly sighed, shaking his head. "Thing is, the Minister really likes the idea and so she's thinkin' she might just go on with it, even if the older officials don't want her to." Frowning, he mopped his brow with a handkerchief. "Minister Bones wanted to have a private meeting with Hermione, but she hasn't showed up and you told me she was missing, so..."

"So, what? If she doesn't show up, they'll just not pass the Law?" Draco asked, sounding a mite frantic. "They can't do that!"

"I'm not sure, sir. I know that her disappearance has been passed on to Minister Bones and that it's caused a lot of apprehension," he admitted, looking nervous as his eyes roamed away and then back to the grate. "Some have been saying that it could be a scare tactic. Like they won't give her back unless we don't pass the Law. The Ministry is in an uproar about it, albeit behind closed doors, but still!"

"Let me get this straight," Draco growled, his face curling with anger. "You think my wife has been taken because Ministry officials don't want her Law passed. And because she's missing and can't have the meeting with Minister Bones, the Law she's been working on for seven years might not go through, like they want?" he asked, grounding the words out.

"I-It's possible, sir," Thickbelly admitted, wincing in wait for a roaring reply.

"Thank you, Tyler," Draco finished, rising from his floor. "That's all," he said, cutting off the connection.

Neville and Blaise had been listening in the whole time, and their expressions were that of shock and anger. They looked up to Draco, waiting for him to say something, but he bypassed them and made his way upstairs. He took them two at a time, nearly running until he made it to the bathroom connected to his bedroom. He nearly slammed the door behind him, turning to look into the mirror for just a moment. He caught his reflection and had to do a double take. He really did look like a living corpse.

Other than his clothes, which really were rumpled, making him question exactly where he had found them, his face is what really caught his attention. Despite his bath the other day, which he had to admit was really just laying in water moping, his hair hung down, pieced apart and looking as if he hadn't washed it in forever. His skin was greyish and sallow, making him appear sickly and dying. There was a lifeless expression on his face too and he couldn't seem to rid himself of it. His eyes were the worst though, with dark marks beneath them, and a red tinge to the whites of his silver gaze. Worst of all they were void of any emotion. Gone was the laughter that used to reside there, empty of the love that had previously glimmered for his other half and his baby girl. It was as if he was drained of everything; dead on the inside, to go along with his now deteriorating outside.

He slid to the floor, his arms wrapping around himself and finding he felt cold and empty. What if she was gone? What if they had killed her for wanting the world to be a better place? Or what if they weren't feeding her? What about his little boy inside of her? Was he okay? What if he lost them? What if he wasn't ever going to see his wife again? Did she know he loved her? Did he say it enough? Did he show it to her enough? Did she have regrets? Could he even go on without her? What would happen to Winnie? How could he explain that her mum had been kidnapped? That she might be dead? What if it was truth, what if Hermione was gone? How could he tell their daughter that? How could he tell himself that?

He couldn't. He wouldn't. The emptiness was filled with hatred then, with determination and need. He wasn't going to sit it out and wait for word on who took her or why. He was going to find the four cloaked men and with them, his wife. He was going to question every last Ministry official in all of the Wizarding world and if it took him beating them into oblivion, he would find his wife.

His chest heaved with his now heavily beating heart, his eyes stung with the tears he had been keeping in all morning, and his palms hurt with the force of his fisted hands. He wanted to hit something, to blame somebody, to cry in his wife's arms and hold her tightly against him. He wanted Hermione, and he wasn't accomplishing anything by sitting on his bathroom floor in a mess.

He couldn't get up though, he couldn't contain the depraved feelings going through him. He was so scared, so terribly terrified that he had lost her. She was his everything, as clichéd as it sounded. His whole life lay with her, from the moment they became a couple. There was no Draco without Hermione. Every day he spent with her smile, every minute he had with her arms around him, every kiss she placed on his lips, he had fully and completely allowed himself to become only hers.

Faced with the possibility that she might not be in his future, he found his mind melt away just a little. There was an ache in his chest, a burning sensation in his throat, and a royally heart wrenching feeling in his gut. He wondered if he was having a panic attack and when he heard the agonized scream ringing in his ears, he knew. At first he didn't know where it was coming from and he thought it was all in his head, but then he realized it was him. He was the one screaming, the one bellowing at the top of his lungs with the force of his entire being. He was the one crying out his pain, his voice shaking his entire body to its very core.

A/N And now you know some of what happened. To know it all, you'd have to hear from Hermione, though, huh. I've been asked a few times to write a chapter from her POV, however to do that would be to let you the reader know whether or not she's alive. By not writing, you can assume anything. Plus, I don't want to give too much away about what exactly happened and who caused it. I'm open to hearing what you speculate happened and who is all behind it. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, another will be posted soon.

Thank you for reading! Please review, it's greatly appreciated.

Much Love,
-Amanda