"Mr. Snape?" Hermione pursed her lips and her vision narrowed. Professor Snape was dead, having died by Nagini years ago. How Alex even knew about the man was a mystery. She never talked about her old teachers with him but maybe Draco had.
"Alex, did your father tell you about Mr. Snape?" she asked and the boy shook his head no.
"No, but Mr. Snape said he taught Daddy, too. He said that Daddy was really good at Potions, and I told him that you were better, and then he rolled his eyes and sniffed."
Hermione studied her son, attempting to detect lies but concluded he was honest with her. Alex had actually talked to Professor Snape and since that was the case then…
"Where's his portrait, Sweetheart?" she questioned and he pointed at the bedroom door.
"Across the hallway. He's placed next to Mr. Zabini's dad. Are you going to go talk to him?"
A soft, dry chuckle escaped her lips at the prospect of her going to have a chat with her old Potions professor who had disliked her with a flammable passion. Though on some level she respected him for sacrificing his life for the war and for Draco, there was really nothing she had to say to him. She imagined her younger self badgering him with questions, and cringed at the image. Yes, she had been quite irritating as a teenager.
"No, I am not going to speak with him, but…" she brought some of Alex's towel over his head to scrunch the water out of his hair, "I don't want you to speak with him again. Is that clear?"
Alex popped his head out from under the towel and tossed her a brokenhearted mask, his grey eyes wide and bottom lip threatening.
"Mommy, he was Daddy's Godfather. He told me he was and knows about Daddy's childhood. Mr. Snape said that I look almost exactly like Daddy did at eight years old, and that I need to start being tutored in Potions right away, so I can be the best when I go to Hogwarts. But I didn't know I was going to Hogwarts. You said I was going to stay in Salem. He then told me about all the Houses in Hogwarts and said that Daddy was a Slytherin and all Malfoys were Slytherin. He said it would be practical for me to be one, too. And then he said that you were a Gryffindor and a troublemaker and when I go to Hogwarts, I should choose my friends wisely."
The back molars in Hermione's mouth snapped together with an audible click, and she breathed in deeply, the clean scent of Alex doing very little in calming her temper. Patting him on the cheek, she stood to her feet and said, "Get dressed and go have some breakfast."
"Can we have biscuits and gravy for breakfast?"
"Probably," answered Hermione and padded him on the head. "I'm going to get ready, and then we'll do something with your hair."
His bottom lip jiggled up at her manipulatively. "Can I please talk to Mr. Snape again?"
"No." She bent down a pecked him on the cheek and gave his bottom a playful swat before entering the bathroom and closing the door.
The guest bathroom was exuberantly lavish like Draco's at the manor but not as large. It was probably half the size, but Hermione didn't mind. She bent over the tub and twisted the taps on: one for perfectly warmed water and the other for muscle soothing ointments and bubbles. The pain in her neck from sleeping wrong on Draco's bed had travelled down her spine and new knots bubbled in her back muscles.
Trousers, sweater, shoes, and undergarments lay forgotten on the tile floor as she climbed over the edge of the tub and sank into the steaming, foaming water. It felt positively amazing, and she sighed contently for a moment, gifting herself a moment a peace before rehashing the last few hours in her mind.
Her head rested against the built-in support of the tub, and she contemplated having a bath like this installed in her house back in Salem. It was utterly perfect how the water and potions were uncoiling the tenseness of her body.
Her eyes drifted shut and rehashed what happened during the night when Theodore had coaxed her out of bed.
"What the hell are you doing?" she hissed at him after pulling his hand away from her mouth. "Have you lost your mind?"
"Come with me. You need to see this," he said calmly.
Gawking at his shadow and how unconcerned he was about sneaking into her bedroom and scaring the living daylights out of her, she murmured "You have lost your mind. I'm not going anywhere, you weirdo. You don't just come galloping into someone's bedroom and night."
"I don't gallop."
"You know what I mean."
Theodore was silent for a moment before admitting, "I looked at the memory. I had to know, Granger. I had to know, and you were right. It wasn't my business, but it is yours. You're in it, and you need to see it."
Her chest constricted painfully at his words, and she covered her face with her hands. Gods, she was in the memory and dreaded which one it was. There were so many bad ones but hoped the last one Draco reflected on was good. Maybe it was of when Alex was still a baby. Perhaps on his second birthday where Alex clobbered his birthday cake and happily smeared his little hands all over his father's face. Draco had done his best keeping his temper leveled and had silently handed Hermione the baby and went to wash himself off. She told Draco if he waited for her to wash up Alex, then she would clean him up with her tongue.
Flushing at the memory, she glared at Theodore in the dark, upset he saw things meant for only her and Draco.
"You shouldn't have seen it," she said reprovingly.
"Doesn't matter now. Come with me. You need to see the memory."
"Theodore, I-"
"I don't pretend to know everything about yours and Draco's relationship or what have you, but I know you need to see this one memory. Granger, if you only knew."
"Now isn't a good time," she pleaded, fearing what the memory may hold. "Another time. I can't."
"You must."
Her eyes burned from unshed tears, and her face felt hot. "If it's so bleedin' important, then just tell me what it is. If I'm in the memory, then I have one, too."
Stonily, he responded, "Stop being stubborn," and grabbed her hand and yanked at her arm and with little trouble he hoisted her out of bed. "I'll give you a few minutes to dress. I'll be in the sitting room."
He let go of her hand and walked out of the room, leaving her to sink back down on the mattress, gulping deep breaths. She heard Alex murmur next to her, and she turned over and leaned down to kiss him on his forehead.
"I'll be back soon, Button," she whispered and abandoned the bed, quickly dressing into a pair of trousers and a sweater before slipping into a cloak.
Theodore was plopped on Blaise's couch, and she snatched her wand from her purse. He stood up and walked over to the fireplace and snagged a pinch of Floo powder from the holder on the mantle.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
"No." She grabbed a pinch, as well, waiting for him to Floo away. Green flames engulfed him and he disappeared, and she fancied the idea of neutralizing Blaise's fireplace and returning to bed but shirked the thought and stepped inside.
Draco's room was darker than it had been the day before, and she nearly yelped when feeling a frigid hand grip around her fingers.
"Shh," he hushed and led her out of the fireplace which ignited with real flames the moment she stepped into the room. They casted a warm glow on the room, causing both of their shadows to resemble gargantuan monsters on the stone walls. It was starkly gothic looking; Hermione nearly expected some sort of undead creature to appear out of nowhere and attack them.
They stopped at the pensieve which was out and ready, and Theodore gestured to it. "It's in there."
Her fingers cupped the basin's rims loosely, and she craned her head to face him, her voice quiet and raspy. "Is it bad?"
Theodore said nothing but stood eerily a few feet away, and Hermione decided the light of flame wasn't a good look for him. Though he was anything but hideous, he was exceptionally unnerving with the dark shadows painted over his eyelids, resembling his father uncannily, who she had caught a glimpse of at in the Department of Mysteries before being Stunned by the man. With his long black cloak on, he could have been a Death Eater, and she wondered if he had been or ever wanted to be.
"Are you going to look or not?" he jibed and she turned to face the pensieve again, lowering her face into the misty substance and like before was turned into an ink drop submerging and spreading into a glass of water. She expanded and found herself sharing an elevator with Draco and quickly realized it was the same one from her old apartment complex.
He looked tired in his suit coat, his shoulders slumped. His head was tilted backwards, and his eyes were closed.
The elevator dinged to a stop, and he opened his eyes and walked out into the hallway with her behind him. He came to the door of her old flat. He inserted his key into the doorknob and entered into the unlit area, shedding his coat and putting it on the coatrack. He then flicked the switch on the wall and the light above him turned on. She watched him slip his hand into the pocket of his discarded coat and pulled out a small, velvety black cube.
"Oh no," Hermione whispered to herself, knowing which memory this was. This was the memory of Easter 2007.
Unwillingly, she followed him down the hall to the master bedroom. The door was left ajar, so he carefully pushed it further open, not wanting it to creak. He shuffled closer to the bed, and Hermione could make out her sleeping form underneath the covers. Her past self was turned away from Draco and towards the window, completely unaware of the man removing his clothing. He was stripped down to his black boxers when he scurried around the bed and gently took her past self's left hand and slipped something sparkling on her ring finger. He then brought the back of her hand to his lips and sensually caressed the skin with them.
"I love you so much, Granger," he huskily whispered down to her, but the younger Hermione did not stir, not even when he climbed onto the bed and joined her between the sheets.
For a long while, he simply lay there and stared at her with his head propped up by the support of his elbow. When he grew bored, his hand touched her shoulder and stroked the bits of exposed skin and then vanished beneath the blankets.
Hermione blushed in humiliation at remembering Theodore had seen this and tempted the idea of tearing out of the memory and hexing his eyeballs out of his head for being a pervert, but a deep, sleepy moan stopped her. She gawked as her memory self rolled onto her back, arching and writhing underneath the duvet from what Draco was doing to her. A wicked smirk was plastered on his face, soaking in the effects of his ministrations on her unconscious body.
When he dove underneath the sheets, Hermione's breath caught in her throat and she whirled around, covering her eyes in mortification. She was most certainly going to kill Theodore when she was done with this, and when a pleasured-filled groan echoed through the room, the 'most certainly' was a gross understatement.
Facing the wall, Hermione heard her younger self trying to catch her breath and chanced a look over her shoulder and nope! Draco was still underneath the sheets, and keening sounds were beginning to escalate once more until a screech louder than before blasted and then…
"Draco, you pervert! If Alex wakes up, I'm going to MMMPH!"
Hermione bucked up some courage and spun back around and watched as Draco molested her memory's mouth, an ache clenching at her heart and womb. Merlin, how she missed him and wished she could kiss him like that again.
"Draco, we mustn't," her memory had moaned into his mouth and then flicked her tongue out to meet his while her nails clawed at his shoulders and back.
"Why the bloody hell not?" he purred and nipped at her memory's mouth, and Hermione messaged her forehead when seeing her knickers come flying out from beneath the duvet and landing by her feet.
"I'm not on the potion anymore."
Draco paused and lifted his lips from hers, his voice marginally higher than normal when saying, "Is that right?"
"Fairie Pox is going around, and my healer prescribed me potions, so I wouldn't catch it. The potion neutralizes Contraceptive Potions, so I decided to go off them for a little while. Draco, I don't think we should make love."
"Are you effing serious? Not shag? Darling, what are the odds of you actually conceiving?"
"The same odds we had when conceiving Alex. And well…I suppose we could try the Contraceptive Charm. I'll cast it of course since you utterly botched it last time, but it will throw off my cycle for a few months. Not that it actually matters, it's just not safe."
"Regrets, love?" Draco inquired in amusement.
Hermione watched as her hand had reached up and cupped Draco's face, adoration in her eyes and love in her touch. Memory Hermione shook her head and whispered, "Alex is the best thing that's ever happened to me, and you gave him to me. Malfoy, I love you so…What the hell is that?!" She had brought her left hand close to her eyes and hissed again, "What the hell is that? Is that a ring? It is! Draco, what have I told you-"
"I couldn't give a damn what you told me, Granger. This charade is over. You're marrying me and that's soddin' final. I'll give you until my next visit in November to tie things up here, but I expect you ready to come back to England. Say yes, Granger. I'm not doing this anymore. I refuse to hide this any longer. I can't imagine my life with anyone else, and you'd be lying to me if you said you imagine yourself with someone else. I'm it for you and you bloody well know it, you blasted harpy. You need to accept that, not just for you but for Scorpius."
"Alex is dandy here in Salem, and how dare you tell me what to do you, you unbelievable prat!"
"Darling, you know how I get when you speak to me that way. It gets me all-"
"Yes, I can feel your reaction, sicko."
Draco chucked throatily and nipped playfully at her lips before saying, "Let's shag."
"I thought it was clear we weren't going to. We don't have proper protection aside from a faulty Charm."
Biting at her lips again and then at her jawline, he whispered, "Let's do it anyway."
A strangled gasped escaped her throat and she stammered, "I-I don't want to get pregnant."
After few moments of silence between them, Draco replied, "Why not? Don't you want another baby?"
"I have a baby, Draco, and I can't believe what you're saying. You couldn't possibly want another."
"You have a four year old. He's not a baby. He's going to be a man before you know it."
"Don't say that!"
"And as for it being impossible for me wanting another moppet. Let me clarify; I want one with you, thus, the ring on your finger. Wouldn't a little girl be a perfect wedding present to the both of us?"
"Little girl?" squeaked Hermione and squirmed beneath Draco as if to get away from him. "You've gone around the twist, you have. Malfoys can't have girls, remember? And we're not having another child, so you better hush if you want to have a go tonight. I've just remembered." She wriggled underneath Draco and opened the drawer of her bedside table and pulled out a white cylinder candle the size of a soup can. "I was talking about my lack of contraceptives with a friend, and she suggested this."
"Codswallop, Granger," Draco muttered as she lit the candle and set it on the table. "Are we at least going to discuss the wedding?"
Hermione shook her head and cupped Draco's face again, leaning up to brush her lips against his. "I'm flattered but the answer is no. It always has been."
"You should know now that we are far past the stage of our relationship falling apart. We've been together for years and are still together. I think it's safe to say that-"
"It's not about how long we've been together." Hermione shifted beneath him to sit up and lean her back against the headboard. "It's not like I still think you're going to find someone else or that I will. You know what this is about. You know why I won't marry you. I can't go back to England. I can't have Alex around your parents. I don't trust them, and you can scream at me until you're blue in the face about how I shouldn't be wary of them, but I will do what is best for him."
"I have a say, too. I'm his father," Draco stated edgily.
Hermione glared at him and then exhaled with a roll of her eyes. "You realize that I cannot force you to do anything. I once told you that I preferred you not to speak with your parents about Alex and me. I will say it again. Nothing but my displeasure is keeping you from telling them."
"I would rather have you be in favor of it when I do."
Her arms folded and she narrowed her focus on him. "You would rather continue to live this secret a few days out of the year instead of facing my displeasure? Are you sure you're not frightened at the prospect of your parents knowing? Do you think if I came with you right now, Alex in tow, it would soften the blow? Would their anger lessen from their illegitimate grandchild they never knew about? Their Half-blood grandchild at that? I dare say, they would be furious, but who am I to assume? They're not my parents."
"Yes, Scorpius' presence would lighten the load. I'm not denying that, Granger. My mum has hinted that she wants me to start looking for wife. She wants grandchildren, and she has one and can't even enjoy him. She'd love him because he's mine. I won't lie, his Blood Status won't thrill her, but she'd accept him due to his resemblance of me. And if she saw…if she saw that you were pregnant again, she'd know I wasn't fooling around. I want you as my wife, Granger. Am I not worth the trouble?"
"Damn you," she hissed and shoved at his shoulders. "What about your father, huh? If Alex's lack of purity won't thrill your mum, I can't imagine what it would do to your father. He'd disown you."
"Either that or give me the whipping of my life." Draco tried to lighten the mood with the jesting comment but did nothing to soothe Hermione's anxiety.
As the older Hermione stood against the wall, she remembered feeling almost like Draco finally cracked her tenacity. Like if prodded further, he'd have persuaded her to come back to England. Never before had he given her a ring, for it had always been proposals or demands they should marry.
She watched her younger self study the ring with wistfulness in her eyes but a frown on her lips.
"It's pretty. Where'd you get it?"
Draco's hands framed her face and he rubbed his forehead against hers. He whispered back against her lips, "It was my grandmother's. I inherited it when she passed away. It is expected of me to give it to the one I marry."
"But-" she rasped but he stopped her rant by smashing their lips together. He moaned into her mouth and pulled her downwards so she was lying on her back once again. His lips drifted to her cheek, chin, jaw and then neck as his hands disappeared underneath the duvet.
Hermione watched them move and bounce and gasp and groan for what seemed like hours and then exhaled in relief when they started to tire. A sweaty, smiling Draco brushed his lips across her memory's ones and inquired, "One more time before turning in?"
She was already drifting, her eyelashes nearly tickling her cheekbones yet she nodded her consent and slowly Draco lifted his arm out from under the duvet and stretched it towards the lit candle, twitching his finger near the flame, vanquishing it.
Having no recollection of this at all due to being in a pre-slumber state, Hermione gaped at what Draco had done and covered her mouth to distort a scream.
"You bastard," she managed to wheeze. "You did it on purpose and all this time I thought…" She covered her face and ran out of the room, feeling the sensation of being pulled upwards and out of the memory.
Using the support of the basin rims of the pensieve, she stood on vibrating legs as irate tears spilled down her cheeks. Once she found her balance, she covered her eyes and let out a growling "Guh!" and went to step back when feeling Theodore behind her. Scowling, she craned her head and found that he was staring down at her with a somewhat sheepish expression. It was when she discovered that his hand was shoved into her cloak pocket where she kept her cigarettes.
Sniffling disgustingly, she wrapped her hand around his forearm and yanked the hand out of her pocket and croaked, "Those are mine."
He calmly withdrew his hand and placed it into his own pocket and said, "You should've treated him better."
Already touchy from the overload she had just peeped upon, she shouted, "It is really none of your business how I treated him. In fact, if he were here right now, I'd hex his sorry pathetic arse."
"No you wouldn't," he called her bluff, smirking. "But now you saw how much he wanted you. He wanted to marry you and have more children. Can't imagine why? You're such a jumped up harpy, but for some reason he wanted you, and you never appreciated him. That's what you needed to see."
"One memory and you think you have it all figured out," she cried and shot him a look of pure disdain, flying towards the bed resting against it. "You have no idea, and maybe I did need to see that memory, but you certainly had no right. Those were private things!"
"If it makes you feel any better, I faced the wall almost the entire time."
Weeping profusely, she snorted at him. "You're such a liar. Leave me alone." Without thinking, she climbed onto the bed and curled up facing the pillows, the thick rich sheets of Draco's bed blocking the harsh sounds of her sobs.
"Mommy, breakfast is ready!" called Alex through the door, stirring Hermione out of her musings.
"Go on and eat without me. Mummy will be a while," she said and painstakingly climbed out of the tub, unplugging the drain.
The muscles in her back and neck no longer felt bunched or knotted but her thoughts lay heavy in her brain, causing a sharp headache to develop between her eyes. She rubbed at her forehead while padding towards the glass-cased shower and then opened the door to step in.
Bubbles and ointment from the bath cleared off her skin as she applied body wash and rinsed herself. She then washed her hair and face. The raining of hot water felt lovely, and she pointedly lost herself in the sensation for a few minutes
Once done with that, she stepped out of the shower and donned a fluffy robe she found in the cupboard and towel-dried her hair, leaving it unattractively wild for the time being. The mirror in the bathroom was Charmed to resist fogging, so she was able to see her reflection who kindly told her to do something with those lustrous tresses.
The previous day, she had straightened her hair because she wanted to appear her best when she saw Draco's grave. It sounded silly, but in a way, she wanted to look nice for him even though he couldn't see her or even comment on her physical attributes.
Today, though, she was not going to be paying another visit to the grave. Her grandmother, a Bible-loving Christian woman who never knew of her granddaughter's magical abilities, had told Hermione that people were not their bodies. They were their souls. Paying respect to a headstone, a casket, a decaying body was considerate at a funeral and for a little while afterwards. As time goes on, however, it was best to come to terms that the person missed was not in the casket, not in the ground, not even the headstone. The person missed moved on to other things.
Her grandmother had died a year after saying that and had stuck with Hermione. She was not a religious person, having befuddled herself thoroughly with her parent's Christianity and the Magical World's Pagan-coated lifestyle, but she did believe in souls.
Huffing at her reflection, she coated her palms in some special hair cream that cost a pretty dockel back in Salem and smoothed it over her damp curls. She then dried the locks with her wand and then studied her hair to make sure it wasn't too bushy.
She went through the steps of her skincare process like the good former cosmetic saleswoman and then wandered into the bedroom to dress, deciding on a pair of beige trousers and a dark grey sweater. When both pairs of flat boots were zipped, she joined Alex and Blaise for breakfast, smiling uncomfortably at the latter.
"They won't like that you're wearing pants," he told her after swallowing a mouthful of coffee.
"I don't care what they like," she coolly said and widened her eyes at the hot steaming feast of biscuits and gravy, scrambled eggs, and hash browns appearing in front of her. An elf bowing at her side caught her attention and she said squeakily, "Thanks. This is uh…very nice."
"It's really good, Mom. Just as good as Old Man Johnson's back home," piped Alex, proceeding to shovel food into his mouth. He was almost done with his meal from the looks of it.
"He has quite the appetite," commented Blaise with an affectionate grin. "Must be hitting a growth spurt or getting ready to at least."
"I'm super short," Alex complained, pouting a little before taking a bite of eggs. "I'm the shortest in my year. I'm even shorter than some of those in the year below me. I'm also kind of," he sulked, "chubbier than the other kids, but Mom says I'll grow and Dad said that, too. He said he was kind of short, too, at my age."
"Very true," said Blaise, stroking his chin. "Short for quite some time, actually. There was a time where your mother was taller than him."
"It was only for a couple of years," Hermione told Alex and patted his back gently. "It's not unusual for girls and boys to be the same height up until a certain age. You'll grow, Button. You'll be as tall as Daddy as long as you keep eating your vegetables."
"Daddy didn't eat his vegetables," Alex reminded her with his chin sticking out. "You could never get him to eat all of his dinner when he would visit."
"Your Grandfather Lucius made sure your father ate his fair share of greens, so he would be healthy," Blaise informed the boy.
"Do you like vegetables?" Alex pointedly asked.
"Not by themselves. I've come to discover that I tolerate them even more so when they are covered in cheese."
Hermione couldn't help it; she burst out laughing as did Alex, the boy bobbing his head up and down in agreement.
"Which reminds me." Blaise's lips stretched into a grin, thinking it was kind of nice to hear them laughing. "When we're in Italy this weekend, we can attend a wine and cheese party. Grape juice for the moppets, though."
"And for the mothers," Hermione added, cutting her fork into a fluffy, flaky gravy covered biscuit. Her lips wrapped around her fork, and she withheld a moan of delight at the steaming hot, creamy gravy dousing the buttery rusk. She must've been more famished than she thought.
They finished up breakfast, all occupants of the table leaving their plates almost clean and glimmering. Hermione's trousers felt rather tight around the middle, and she suddenly felt awful for eating like a cow. When she was younger with her strict dentist parents, eating healthy had not been such a chore. Thinking about the vegetable conversation earlier, she wondered if maybe she should consult a nutrition- Healer because cheese-covered vegetables sounded like a spectacular idea that needed to be rendered into a squashed state.
Without thinking, she asked Blaise, "Do you think I'm fat?"
"Must we be here again?" Hermione grumbled when entering the Main Hall in Malfoy Manor via Floo. Blaise and Alex were in front of the fireplace waiting for her.
"It's not so bad, Mom," Alex said and grabbed her hand, and Blaise guided them down a hallway. "I think I'd like to go outside and play in the snow with Rose if she gets to come today."
"I thought you said she was bossy," Hermione said blithely.
"She is but if she's the only eight year old around, then I'll make do." He sighed and squeezed his mother's hand. "Will you stay all the time this time? You can help us make a snowman."
"I'd love to," she said and bent down to kiss his cheek.
"You can help, too," Alex said to Blaise and Hermione snorted at the image of the prestigious, elite Blaise Zabini trekking outside in the snow to build a snowman with a couple of kids.
"I'll think about it," he said which meant in Grownup Language 'no'.
The three turned a corner and entered an open room where Lucius and Narcissa were found sitting at a large rectangular table with Pansy along with four little children and a man, all with ginger hair.
Ron Weasley stood up from the table, wearing a grim yet awkward expression. He swallowed thickly and he spoke out, "Hello, Hermione. Can we talk?"
A/N: Thank you to all! Readers, reviewers, followers and those who favor this fic! Thank you especially to those that have brought this fic to the four-hundred review mark. It's exciting for me, and I'm so grateful! *squeals in glee*
Thank you: MMWillow13, Angelus Draco, hkmac, sweetangelrock, Kou shun'u, EEG, Guest, Dennet, Vidocin666, Musette Fujiwara, Guest, Guest, and meg527 for the reviews. Again, thank you so much for them.
So for clarification, Astoria did not know about Alex, and Daphne said in the previous chapter that she didn't. In some future chapter, we'll get to know a little bit about Astoria and her relationship with Draco. As for Daphne, I tried to portray her as a protective older sister. I think any loving sister would have acted the way she did with Hermione—irrational and hurt on her sister's behalf. Let's not forget that Slytherins can love, too. According to my pottermore status, I'm in the House of Snakes (But I'm not a Death Eater or Voldemort Sympathizer or a bigot). On that note, I love my sisters very much, and God save their better-halves if they had secret children they purposefully kept hidden because I would show no mercy.
Again, I shall say, that this story is not about who Hermione ends up with at the end. If she does end up with someone, I hope you, my readers, don't take it as a romantic happy ending. The romance in this story is about Draco and Hermione. I know some hope she ends up with Blaise, and now some are probably even considering Theo. I guess I would be lying if I didn't know my readers would assume she'd end up with one or the other. I suppose it's only natural to think that way once a male character is introduced.
Anyway, I apologize for the errors and the lack of Snape in this chapter. We'll see him again, don't worry. But I do hope the memory sufficed. I haven't decided if we'll be seeing more of Draco's memories. Right now, I say no, but I may change my mind.
Enjoy the chapter and tell me your thoughts. Read and review and whatnot! Tell me how you think Ron will be in the next chapter. :)