Here it is again! Thank you for all the reviews, favourites and alerts. They make me smile! Hope you enjoy!

Dear

"Lucy! Open your eyes for me sweetheart, please!" I shook her desperately, almost violently, willing her to wake up. I had seen her, standing on the fifth stair, swaying gently, like a tree in a gentle breeze, before finally her knees gave out and she toppled backwards. In two lunging steps, I had caught her before her skull cracked on the steps below. And I now I held her flushed, hot body against my own, true and utter panic hammering my veins.

"Lucy, please!" I begged her. Her head lolled, her pink lips parted, her skin white to the point of translucency, sweat beading on her brow. Carefully, I gently pull her eyelids open. Her pupils were fully dilated, her gaze unseeing.

Shit.

She was never meant to get ill.

"Everything is going to be ok, sweetheart," I murmured, partly to her and partly to myself, "everything is going to be ok." I swept her up into bridal style, brought her up the stairs and settled her onto her bed. I felt her forehead and my stomach plummeted even further when I felt her skin feeling like a fire was burning underneath it. "Moppy!"

A loud crack, and the house elf appeared, twisting on the hem of her tea towel. She gave a squeak when she saw Lucy lying prone on the bed. She then did something entirely unexpected. She rounded on me, her face screwed up with fury, "what has you done to her? What has you done to her!" She smacked her tiny fists against my leg, shrieking unintelligible curses at me. I grabbed her skinny little arms and forced her away from me, "focus Moppy! Miss Lucy is very sick. Remember when I was a boy and you took care of me when I was sick? What would you give me?"

Moppy relaxed her hands and dropped them to her sides, thoughtfully cocking her head onto one side, "Chilling potion, Revival draught, Froissart's Anti-contagion and Cough Soother, in that order."

"Go get them then," I said, "and be quick about it."

Her eyes shone but she nodded and was gone in another crack. I turned to Lucy again. Her breathing was becoming laboured, her hair was plastered to her forehead and I could practically feel the heat rolling off her. I conjured up a cloth and soaked it in a stream of icy water from the tip of my wand. I placed it gently against her forehead. I began pulling the thick layers of clothing off her body, trying to get her comfortable. I paused when I got down to her t-shirt and jeans. I could see her bra underneath the material that was soaked with her perspiration. I swallowed audibly, partly in awe of her and partly appalled at myself. Here I was, perving on a girl who was unconscious and possibly fatally ill. Merlin, I have issues.

I settled for just taking off her jeans, and cast her long slim white legs an appraising look before tugging the duvet around her body, just as Moppy cracked back into the room, clutching bottles to her chest. "I's got what you needed Master Draco."

"Good, bring them here." She shuffled forwards and deposited the bottles on the bed spread. "Hold her head up," I instructed, picking up the bottle with clear liquid sloshing inside.

As Moppy gently lifted Lucy's head as I uncorked the bottled and brought it up to her lips, "c'mon Lucy, sweetheart. Drink."

I poured the potion between her lips, trying to be gentle. Coughs racked her body and her eyes fluttered open, blearily staring out, "Mum? S'that you? I feel really..." she suddenly lurched over the side of the bed and vomited onto the carpet. I held back her hair, while quickly pulling back my shoes from carnage on the floor.

She coughed and wretched before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, " 'M sorry mum. Didn't mean to ruin the carpet."

I gently pulled her back, settled her on the pillows again. "Just stay with me Lucy, alright?"

I retrieved the bottle with bright green liquid and pressed it to Lucy's lips, her eyes already fluttered shut. "Drink this sweetheart."

Like a child, she obediently drank it down. Her face screwed up in disgust, "Mum! I hate Calpol. Aren't I too old for it now?"

I said nothing, but picked up another bottle, this filled with icy blue liquid. All the while Lucy began mumbling to herself, "I had the weirdest dream last night. I dreamed that David was a wizard named Draco who took me to this cottage when the wizards decide to uprise. He took me away from you when we were being moved from our home. I thought you were dead. I didn't like that part. But there was a gremlin named Moppy and David would visit me in my little cottage with it's big garden. I kissed him, like I have always wanted to, but he ran away. I hope tha' doesn't happen for real...I'm not that bad a kisser."

I clenched my jaws and pressed the bottle to her lips, "drink this now."

"Ok," she whispered, before sucking down the Chilling potion. She choked again and wailed, "tha' hurts!"

"I'm sorry sweetheart," I murmured, stroking back her hair, and feeling her temperature drop rapidly, "I know it hurts."

She whimpered, tugging the covers around her body, "I'm cold now. Can you make me some of your special hot chocolate? Y'know...the one with those little itty bitty marshmallows. I promise not to tell the twins or Aaron, 'cos I know how tetchy they get for special treatment. It just always gets me warm again..."

My eyes stung and I swallowed back the lump in my throat, "I'm afraid we've run out of marshmallows."

She pouted and seemed to sink into the pillows, "oh...tha' s'not good. Maybe a hot water bottle?"

I nodded to Moppy and she seemed to understand. I took the back of Lucy's head and Moppy hopped out of bed and hurried away to get the hot water bottle. I pushed the Cough Soother against Lucy's lips, "c'mon, last medicine."

She drank it all down again and sighed in relief, "chest feels better now. But still really cold. Hot water bottle please?"

"Just a minute sweetheart," I whispered. Moppy hurried back again a red hot water bottle in her hands. She handed it to me, I lifted the covers and I placed it next to Lucy before tenderly pulling the covers back up to her chin. She sighed and smiled, "thank you."

"You're welcome sweetheart," I said, "you sleep now ok?"

"Ok, mum. Love you," she mumbled as she snuggled deeper under the covers.

I froze, staring at her now peaceful face. The colour was already returning to her cheeks and she "I love you too," I whispered it so quietly, even I barely heard it. I glanced at Moppy and told her firmly "keep an eye on her, alright? I have to go back but you inform me if things take a turn for the worst."

She nodded, while pulling the curtains closed and dimming the lights, "of course Master Draco."

I headed for the door as Moppy hopped up unto the rocking chair to keep watch over Lucy. I stopped by the doorway, to give one last glance at Lucy lying in bed. She was breathing evenly again, her hair spread across the pillow. Like I did every time I left her, I placed every single one of her features in my memory. I then left, walked through the snowy garden and then the wall, leaving the girl who seemed to turn my world on it's head.

Returning to the manor, I met my furious wife in the sitting room, "What the fuck, Draco?" she fumed, hands on her hips, "this is our honeymoon and you go off to stick your dick in your personal whore? How dare you!"

I ignored comments, even if I wanted to slap her for calling Lucy a whore, "Do you care for a walk around London, sweeting? Shall I spoil you? Do you want that, my pet?"

Her eyes sparked in greed and she smiled, her sour face twisting further, "that would be lovely Draco. Let me get my cloak. Why don't you take a look at how I have improved the house, my dear?"

As she whisked away, I eyed the repairs she had made to the sitting room. The faded red had been replaced with deep green velvets, the curtains no longer frayed. The portraits of my ancestors were finally sitting in clean gild frames and the place no longer smelled of dust. A perfect sitting room for a well respected Death Eater. Well, looks like there was some use to the bitch.

I couldn't help but compare the decorations of my wife and of Lucy. Lucy liked warm soft colours and simple furniture with pretty designs, while my wife preferred austere colours and hideously expensive furniture. No need to guess whom I preferred.

Pansy Malfoy flowed into the room, a cloak of soft ermine in a deep blue enfolding her form. I proffered my arm and she took it, smiling in what she must have thought was a charming manner. I grimaced back at her and apparated the both of us to Portia Alley. Portia Alley was just off of Diagon Alley and was considered more upper class.

Pansy cooed in pleasure and we began to walk down the winding cobbled street, pausing every now and then to stare at the shop windows. Every now and then we would bump into acquaintances and would start a round of painfully polite small talk. I don't know how many times we were congratulated on our marriage. By the fifth time I lost count. By what must have been the tenth time I wanted to bring out my wand and hex the next person who did so. Eventually we found the tailor shop: Elienora'sBoutiquewhere Pansy spent a full three hours having multiple robes fitted. Not wishing to wait in that stuffy, overly perfumed shop, I dumped a bag of galleons in Pansy's hand and wandered off down the street. I perused the one Wizard's sports shop but took no interest in the items on sale. It started to snow again and I pulled up the hood of my cloak as the thick flakes fell in soft flurries.

I dawdled down the alley, passing more glittering shops. Even under the rule of Voldemort most shops still flourished, quickly adapting to the laws that were starting to constrict most businesses. No mudblood, muggle or blood traitor could enter any retailer or establishment. No mudblood, muggle or blood traitor could own retailer or establishment. In fact, mudbloods, muggles and blood traitors couldn't do a lot nowadays. Half bloods were still in a grey area, it depended how far back the filth had entered. But most of them would now have to live with their heads constantly looking behind them.

I paused by a book store, casting the books in the front window a quick glance before moving on to the quaint jewellery store next door. It was there that something caught my eye. In the front window, among the glittering jewels and glimmering gold, was a small, silver, oval shaped locket. On the front, it was decorated simply, with a small purple stone set in the middle and golden clasp at the side to hold the two little doors close. Amongst the ostentatious bits of old fashioned jewellery, this struck me as rather pretty in a simple way. I knew Pansy would find it too simple, too plain to be worn in fashionable company, but I knew someone else wouldn't.

Before I could stop myself, I was in the dark little shop, asking the wizened old man to take out the locket from the front window. The man, noticing the black robes of a Death Eater, stuttered and bowed, carefully plucking the locket from its rest with his papery dry hands, "is this for your sweetheart?" He asked, placing it carefully on a panel of blue velvet for me to look at.

"More or less," I said vaguely, peering closely at the silver, "is it magical in anyway?"

"As a matter of fact, it is," the man said, pushing up his horn rimmed glasses and carefully pried the doors open, "the stone is amethyst and, when worn, it will protect your loved one from simple curses, illnesses and poisons. Furthermore, if you were to put a lock of your sweetheart's hair in, it will make whoever they love appear in the frames. Let me show you."

With his own gnarled wand, he severed a lock of his own wispy hair and placed it carefully into locket. Three figures sprang from the doors; one old woman and two blonde adults. They stood, smiling and waving at us from the velvet panel. The man smiled in fondness and I smiled in awe. It was perfect for her. Perfect.

"I'll take it," I said imperiously, pulling out a pouch of galleons from my pocket.

I paid the man generously and made off with the locket tucked away beneath my cloak, a sort of talisman against my hip.

When I returned the boutique, Pansy had several shopping bags cluttering the hallway of the boutique's interior and a giddy Pansy. "Daaaaahliiing," she sang, clutching at his shirt and grinning up at me, "I've had a woooonderful time and have bought lots of pretty things." She reached up on tiptoe and whispered in my ear, "some naughty things to."

I could smell the free champagne she had must have been drinking wafting from her mouth and I grimaced, putting her at arm's length, "Pansy, I think I need to get you home."

She pouted but clung harder to my robes, "oh, well if you insist, husband of mine." She tittered and cooed her goodbyes to the seamstresses as I, with a sweep of my wand, made the bags disappear to Malfoy Manor.

"Come along, my dear," I said in a infinitely patient voice, "time to go home."

I steered her towards the door, as she simpered and waved. I managed to get her to the apparition point and performed side along apparition back the Manor. As soon as we were in the foyer, Pansy, for lack of a better description, attacked me. She pushed her lips sloppily against my face, yanking my hair so that she forced my face against hers. "Make love to me! Ravish me!" she cried in what she must have thought was an alluring voice but sounded shrill and grating.

I grimaced and tried to pull away, "Pansy, I'm not in the mood. I have to go and-"

She pulled on my hair again to the point of pain, "no, you are not going to sneak off to be with your little slut. You are going to stay here and give me the son we both need." She forced her lips against mine again but anger sparked deep in my gut. It forced upwards and pushed all my sensibilities out of my head, making everything so infinitely, excruciatingly clearer.

I took Pansy's French hair twist and yanked her head back, making her whimper in surprise. I then leaned down, my lips gently brushing her ear as I whispered in an equally gentle voice, "Call Lucy a slut one more time, and I will make your time in this house hell. Do I make myself clear?"

She moaned but whispered, "yes, yes, I understand."

She made as if to pull away but I yanked her back again, pulling her body harshly against mine. Terrified yelps issued from her mouth and she looked at me with pure fear. But I paid no heed. I gripped her jaw and made her terrified blue eyes stare back at me, "and where do you think you are going?" Tears were starting to form in the corners of her eyes but I couldn't stop myself. I wanted Pansy to suffer because she was there and close.

"As duty calls on the both of us to produce an heir, let's get this over with. As you so eloquently put it earlier, if I have to stick my dick into ugly, frigid, bitch you so I don't have to touch you anymore, then so be it." I took her by the arm and dragged her to our bedroom as she cried.

"Stop your bawling," I snarled, as we burst into the bedroom and I threw her unto the bed, shrugging off my robes, "it makes your face even more repulsive than it already is."

She quieted down, her blotchy face looking reproachfully at me. With shaking fingers she began to unbutton the silk robes from her shoulders. "I... I'm sorry I'm not her," she whispered, as I, now fully naked, crawled on top of her, nudging her legs apart with a thigh. With strong fingers I crawled one hand up her thigh and wrenched her knickers down.

Our gazes locked and I whispered, "I'm sorry too."

Then I pushed forwards.

*D*L*

It took me three days to bring myself to see Lucy again. I felt filthy. After Pansy's and my...altercation, I couldn't bring myself to be in her presence. To have her thinking of me in the way that she does. The jewellery box was a burning heavy weight under the layers of my robes, as I walked about with it.

It was the image of her condition the last time I saw her that drove me to the wall again. Moppy hadn't come back to me, so I assumed that Lucy had gotten better. It was midday as I trudged through the snow, the cold seeping into the hems of my robes. Walking up to the front door I quietly let myself in. I heard the quiet sounds of cooking coming from the kitchen, the warm smells of streak pie wafting from the kitchen. I shifted into the room to see Moppy siting by the stove on a wooden stool, watching her creation bake in the oven.

I coughed and Moppy jumped, her large saucer eyes fixing on me, "Master Draco! You's back!" her face was apprehensive as she gazed at me, her fingers twisting around each other.

"How is Lucy?" I asked quietly, leaning against the doorframe.

"Much better, Master Draco, much better," Moppy said, a happy grin breaking her serious face, "she's resting now but her fever has gone down and she is talking clearly again."

"Can I see her?" I asked, my voice starting to become tentative.

Moppy seemed startled by the question, "of course! She is upstairs."

I nodded and left without another word, treading up the creaking stairs. I paused just outside her door, with my forehead resting against the wood of the closed door. I heard the quiet hushes of breaths of someone slumbering. I closed my eyes and clenched my jaw, my fingernails biting into my palms as I listened to her. Self-loathing filled my gut and I wanted to bolt. But I swallowed it down and pushed the door open.

Even though the window was unshuttered, allowing bright light into the room, she was fast asleep, one of her hands tucked up underneath her cheek. The other lay relaxed on the pillow, half opened. Her raucous curls were tied off her face in a loose bun at the back of her head, but there was one renegade curl that danced upwards every time she breathed. Her lips were parted, her face relaxed in slumber. She was wearing one of her big muggle shirts again, this one bright pink with CancerResearchUKon the front. The covers were up around her waist, but one foot dangled off the edge of the bed.

She was lovely.

I glanced around the room realising this was the first time I had been in here and actually taken note of what it looked like. The walls were a powdery blue, delicate silver stripes running up and down. The chest of drawers, wardrobe, armchair and desk were all white and were all pushed up again the walls. Lucy's brass double bed was under the window, so that the light spilled across her bed.

I tiptoed across to the bed and, with my wand, gently severed a lock of her hair. Holding it between my forefinger and thumb, I rummaged in the inside of my cloak, pulling out the jewellery box. I pulled out the locket, opened it and placed the hair inside. Instantly six figures stood up from the doors. Five of them I had only seen in the frozen pictures that scattered the house. A woman who looked like an older version of Lucy, a middle aged man with greying blonde hair, a large strapping man with brown hair, and a pair of toddler twins with identical smiles and blonde hair. These people were all crowded into one door, laughing and smiling as they stood in the locket.

I had expected these people in the locket because they were Lucy's family. She loved them and always would love them. But it was what stood in the other door of the locket that had me reeling.

I stood in the other door, hands in my pockets as I stared up, looking like I utterly belonged there, a smirk formed on my lips.

I had to sit heavily on the armchair because it felt like my legs was about to give out. I stared at the girl in bed, watching her sleep as I clutched the locket in my hand. Her lips twitched in the form of a smile, as if she was having good dreams. I glanced down at the locket and then back at her again, trying to make the connection in my head.

How? How was it possible for someone like her to love someone like me? She never- I mean she- she was gentle and kind and would never back down. I have done things that should have her recoiling from me. Should have her turning away in disgust.

I stared down at the little miniature of me in the locket, before snapping it shut.

I sat for a full five minutes, watching Lucy sleep and thoughts of her twisting my mind around and around.

I clenched the metal of the locket between my fingers and brought it up to my lips, still staring at her.

She liked to sing muggle songs while she cooked or cleaned.

Whenever she achieved something with Moppy, she'd ask the house elf for a 'high five' and do a little victory dance.

When she would set a plate of food down in front of me, she would smooth her hands on my shoulders, before flourishing a napkin up for me to take.

She could tell when I was in a bad mood. She would give me this look and lightly touch my face with those gentle long fingers of hers, her eyes showing a quiet understanding.

Bloody hell.

I got up and came close to the bed while tucking the locket into my beast pocket, looking down on her inert form. I leaned over her, my hands on either side of her so that I had her caged beneath me. She stirred as I made the bed move, a light groan uttered from her lips. I skimmed my nose across the skin of her neck, drinking in her summery scent. She's groaning again, muttering something like, 'five more minutes.' I kissed the corner of her mouth and she sighed, rolling onto her back, giving me better access. Her eyes were still closed but I had a feeling she wasn't as asleep as she seemed. Time for a better wake up call.

I kissed her lips, her taste coming across my mouth. I kissed her with a passion that I could not as effectively put into words. At first she was unresponsive.

But then she gasped against my mouth and pulled away, startled eyes staring up at me. "Draco, you are one horny bastard," she stuttered out, her cheeks flushed, "I could still be contagious."

I smirked, brushing my nose against her cheek, "you look much better. I'm taking my chances."

She laughed, a warm chuckle of a laugh before saying, "wow: a kiss and a compliment. I'm a lucky girl."

She stretched languorously beneath me, arching her back and pushing her breasts upwards. I could see the two small hard nubs underneath her shirt and something hot shot through me. "Alright lover boy, don't get too excited," she teased, patting my cheek and wriggling out from underneath me. She propped herself up against the headboard and grinned, "Moppy'll have your head for waking me up. She's all but chained me to this bed." I only grinned wider and sat myself beside her, putting an arm around her shoulder.

"There is a lot to be said for chains and beds," I teased back, as she rested her head against my chest.

"You're perverted," she said lightly, picking up my left hand and playing with the relaxed fingers, "but that's ok. I'm used to it."

I smiled, pressing my lips against her hairline, "I'm glad you're better." It was quiet but true.

"Yeah, me too," she said, "I had forgotten how much vomiting sucks."

I chuckled, "You're back to your old self again."

"Yeah… that wasn't a good day for me," she sighed, shrugging, "I'm sorry you had to deal with that."

"I'm just glad you are better." I chewed on my bottom lip before saying gruffly, "I got something for you." I pulled the locket out with my free hand and held it out to her, "Hope you like it."

Her eyes widened and her face broke into a surprised smile, "Draco! You shouldn't have!"

"I saw it and uh…here it is." I am so romantic. Not.

Her smile turned dazzling as she turned the locket around to look at it from every angle, "Its beautiful, thank you."

"You might wanna open it," I murmured, heart beating a tattoo against my heart.

She glanced up at me through her lashes, a quizzical smile on her lips before she did what I asked.

As the figures sprang up again, she pressed her shaky fingers against her mouth, her eyes filling with tears. She was speechless for a few moments and the tears escaped her eyes as she stared at the contents of the locket.

"Here," I pulled out my handkerchief and handed it to her. She took it but didn't use it, stuffed and clenched in her fist and still staring at the locket.

She suddenly wrapped her arms around me in a chokehold, hugging me to the point of nearly cracking my ribs. "Thank you," she whispered, wet warm tears splashing against my neck, "thank you."

I hugged her back, not sure of what else to do (I'm still getting used to the whole 'hugging' concept) and murmured, "You're welcome."

I was not used to giving things and getting a good feeling out of it. I gave things when I wanted something back or if I wanted to get into someone's good books.

But this?

I should give Lucy a present everyday if it always felt like this.

She finally released me, giving me a watery smile. "Can you help me put it on?" she croaked out, dabbing her eyes with my handkerchief. She handed me the locket and I brushed her hair away form her neck and clipped the locket into place.

"I think…" she said, taking a deep breath, "that this…" she picked up the locket again from where is rested on her chest, "is one of the nicest presents anyone has ever gotten me. Thank you, so, so much." She reached up and kissed me sweetly on the cheek, her eyes shining.

I tucked a curl behind her ear, warmth curling in my stomach, "please, consider it something to make up being stuck here. I know you must be getting cabin fever sometimes."

"Understatement of the century, but its better than the alternative," she shrugged, fingering the locket absentmindedly as if it had always been there.

"What do you do to pass the time when you don't have chores?" We settled back into our earlier position, her head resting against my arm.

"I read," she said. She stretched across, her arse rubbing slightly against my hip as she snatched up a book from her bedside table. I stared at the front cover, depicting the orange silhouettes of a man's and a woman's face, the title: OneDay stamped in between them. "I'm rereading this. Its my favourite book of all time. Its about two people who meet in Edinburgh on this one day. The book then focuses on that one day for the next twenty years in their lives. Its really funny and sad and you would never guess the ending."

"Never heard of it."

"What?"

The outraged look on her face made me snigger.

"You have not lived, Draco Malfoy," she told me seriously. "What do wizards read anyway? Spell books?"

"I guess, we do have literature, but the market is bigger for spell books."

"God, that sounds depressing," she said, "it's the opposite in my world." She glanced down at the book again, frowning, "Its odd to think that I probably own the last few copies of muggle books on this godforsaken island."

There was a pause as we listened to the slight wind that made the icicles on the trees tinkle. Pressing my lips against her temple, I said quietly, "why don't you read it to me then?"

She glanced up with a startled smile on her face, "You have time?"

I glanced at my watch and said, "I have until four. Pansy-" I abruptly cut myself off, as my wife swam through my thoughts.

Lucy's eyes were wide, and she gave me a tentative smile, "you can mention your wife to me, Draco. Its alright."

"Yeah, I know but uhm…I don't necessarily want to talk about her," I shifted uncomfortably and then quickly changed the subject, "why don't you start reading to me? I wanna see if I've been missing out."

She gave me hard look, like she was trying to see past my flesh before bending her head and flicking to the first page. "Alright: 'Chapter 1: The Future. Friday 15 July 1988. Rankeiller Street, Edinburgh. "I suppose the important thing is to make some sort of difference…"'"

She read on, her quiet voice filling the silence of the deep winter. As she read, I would brush my lips across her temple, finger locks of her hair, nuzzled my nose across her shoulder. Every now and then she had to stop and explain a few muggle phrases and words I didn't understand.

In a world that no longer made sense. That span in faster and faster circles that blurred into colours and shapes and sounds that were brash and dangerous. There was something beautiful to be able to pause for a small while, to be read to by a girl with an easy grin and glittering eyes.

But the time seemed to trickle away from us as she read, and before I knew it, it was nearly 4. I sighed, kissed her temple once more and detangled myself from her. She turned the corner of the page over and grinned up at me. "That was nice. I should read to you more often."

"Yeah," I murmured, reluctantly pulling on my boots and flattening out my hair, "I can see what you are so outraged about. I like the story."

She smiled and slid out of bed. She stood in front of me, craning her neck to look up at me. "Let me just see something." Before I could stop her, she had grabbed my left arm and pushed my sleeve up. I took a short gasp of breath when the Mark was finally revealed to her for the first time. I tried to wrestle it away but she clung on. With one delicate finger, she traced the shape of it, staring shrewdly at it, like it was some creature she had found under a stone. "Ugly thing, isn't it?" she said absently, "I've seen it before, when you were passed out drunk. I thought it was only the light but uhm…nah its still as gross as I remember it."

She stroked her hand one more time over the flesh and pulled the sleeve down, "But…just 'cause it's on your skin doesn't mean it's a part of you. You need to remember that sometimes." She kissed me on the cheek and span away from me, grinning, "I'm gonna have a bath! I'm sick of sleeping. See you soon and be safe!"

She was out the room within a heartbeat, her scent all around.

I stared after her and then chuckled, shaking my head.

I want to ask the Dark Lord one of these days why, if muggles were so base and filthy, how something so lovely and perfect as Lucy Warren could exist?

Yeah…that was hard. Again I wrote this completely differently and had to rewrite again so that it made more sense and less like mush.

So whaddya think? They're getting closer aren't they? I always had this image of Lucy reading one of her muggle books to Draco. I think it's going to become one of their 'things'.

Could you all fill out a survey for me for my maths coursework? The link is on my profile and I would be really grateful if you could. There's a better explanation on my profile as well, so please head on over there. You'd be doing me a massive favour!

Till next time!

Bones

xx