Chapter Four

Draco and Harry's relationship was colder than ever.

After Harry's denial their relationship had spirally from awkward uncertainty to humiliated rage.

His small, glass eyed cousin refused to even look at Draco anymore, his cheeks were continually dusted with heat and pink embarrassment and Draco was a silent wall of anger as he watched him; cold with distance and longing. The space between them hummed with things unsaid and unresolved and Dudley should have been all smirks and mocking laughter, but he couldn't muster up the energy. He was so terribly full of emotion and worn out because of them and he hated them for their melodrama and the way he couldn't stop watching as they scowled venom and rage at one and other.

Their argument didn't make Dudley feel any better; their embarrassed blanking and disdainful scowls felt false and fragile; ready to be broken and remade into something he didn't fully understand. They were full of anger and uncertainty fuelled partly by youth and partly by the tense, claustrophobic atmosphere of the safe house. Somehow he didn't think either would hold sway for very long.

No one else seemed to share his opinion however and Harry's pretty friends were happy to go back to sneering and ignoring Draco with smug superiority, hiding his skinny little cousin away from the pale youth as if they actually thought it helped.

Even Hermione, with her dark intelligent eyes was happy to slip back into hating Draco and pretending as if the past weeks had never happened. It surprised Dudley that even the most clever, rational people were so easily pulled into blind fantasies when they wished for it. He guessed that everyone spent time lying to themselves, no matter how insightful or intelligent they appeared. No matter how pretty.

Without Harry to talk to, Draco was even more isolated than Dudley and if he thought that would have instigated a comradeship between them he would have been wrong. Draco was too lost in his own anger and hatred and wearisome fear to care about him. Dudley only half understood what had changed, the sneering, mockingly playful humour seemed drained out of Draco and the boy was sharper and crueller than ever.

The pale youth prowled around the house like a caged animal, snarling at anyone who got in his path. He got into a thousand scuffles with the redheaded family and his face was an odd series of fading bruises and blossoming flower petal injuries. If his cousin cared about Draco's self destructive anger he never said anything. Harry was never there, to say anything.

The grizzled old warriors had started to overwhelm the house. They were desperate, frantic casualties, fumbling around the kitchen with sunken eyes and haunted expressions, bleeding onto floors and staring off into space while their hands shook around cold tea. It was scary to watch them and Dudley wasn't the only one who averted his eyes when they came home.

They were also obsessed with his cousin.

Dudley had found it odd; before how they held up Harry as some shinning messiah, now they worked him like a dog. The harsh, starved contours of their face were all tense and hopeless as they lectured Harry, ambushing him in the dim corners of the house and Harry just stood there, pressed against peeling wallpaper, tiny in his fragile humanity and folding weak as cardboard, beneath their pressure and his own guilt.

Dudley didn't know what to think as he watched them and a lot of the time he wasn't allowed to watch.

The men quickly became teachers, dragging Harry away to empty, dust covered rooms and the doors were a wall between them as he listened warily to the proceedings inside. Light slashed between the gaps of the doorway, illuminating the corridor in splashes of violent scarlet and emerald, smearing the opposite wall with magic until it faded like old blood, seeping into the house. Voice and cries of pain echoed faintly and once Dudley had listened in, hearing Harry's hoarse words, thin with pain and choking on his emotion as he begged for respite.

"Get up Potter, you think Voldermort will give you a breather?" the greasy haired man's voice was mocking and full of smug superiority and Dudley felt something that was a little like protectiveness and more like jealousy at the man's control over his cousin.

"I can't..." harry echoed weakly and there was another flash of light that ended with Harry's sharp cry of pain.

"We're doomed if this is the best you can do, now get up!"

Dudley's neck prickled as he listened and when he caught his hands shaking nervously, his cowardice kicked in and he ran away, upstairs to hide in the covers of his bed, shaking at the reality of a war that was being forced upon them all.

Draco glanced at him from the bed opposite and his pale eyes were iced but bright with understanding, as if he knew what Dudley had seen and he snorted, his mouth folding up into a single line of weary anger and he turned away, curling up until he was a small lump pressed against the further wall. Dudley glanced at him, hating and jealous and realised Harry probably needed Draco if only to stand up for him when he refused to do it himself.

And that was the problem with Harry. He didn't know when enough was enough; Dudley had seen him limping to the bathroom, his collar bone pale yellow with a smattering of bruises like stars across the sky and his face gaunt with exhaustion and wondered how long he could continue before he broke.

Dudley apparently wasn't the only one who thought so; but Harry had stopped listening to Hermione's bossy lectures a while ago and Ron was too full of British manliness to be able to express his concern to his friend. The only people who might have been stubborn and aggressive enough to shake some sense into him weren't speaking to him and so Harry threw himself into his lessons with destructive stupidity and into the library when it was over.

Harry was falling from between their fingers beautifully.

Dudley had taken to watching him read and he wasn't the only one. Ginny spent hours watching him from the doorway of the library. Her hair flames and ribbons around her pale face, lit up by the hallway lamps and the flickering witchlights that Harry had left bobbing around the dim room.

She was so very pretty in her mixture of emotion. Her eyes bright with love for his skinny runt of a cousin and hard with an anger that was harsh and overwhelming because of her youth and Harry's rejection. Dudley watched her from inside the room, curled up as best as his lumbering body would allow on one of the moth eaten couches and was smug at her physical distance from Harry's oblivious form.

He doubted his cousin even knew she was there and Ginny's pain was still too fresh and raw for her to make herself known or give her concerns a voice.

Harry was unbelievable cruel in a way Dudley had never noticed before. It wasn't intentional, for he didn't think Harry had a mean bone in his body, but somehow that made it worse. His obliviousness and apathy for other's emotions was terribly callous. He didn't seem to understand the impact his actions or lack of action had on people and the pain he caused them was all the bitterer for it.

He supposed it was his family's fault: Harry had never been brought up to understand others, no one had ever considered his emotions and so he had never learnt to consider other peoples. Dudley wondered if he ever would, in some ways Harry had been broken forever by the abuse of his childhood and it left a bad taste in his mouth when he realised it was his parents who had broken him.

Harry was all pretty lines and big eyes, and his flaws and sharp edges were like gleaming weapons being wielding by a beautiful child. He was socially inept because of them and no matter how kind or selfless he was naturally inclined; it didn't mean that he would ever be able to understand other people. It was wrong, jarring against the image of the perfect being Dudley had built up and he wished so desperately that Harry could see him, even if he didn't see anyone else.

He guessed Draco felt the same way, except Draco wanted more and would never be content with the limbo half realised area of fantasy Dudley lived in, and Harry didn't have a clue about any of it.

In some ways Harry was terribly naive.

Dudley thought what the grizzled men were doing was made almost perverse by his cousin's naivety. They were teaching him how to kill, how to hurt and murder and he doubted if the socially inept glass eyed boy knew the implications of his actions. Dudley didn't think he did either, but he wasn't the one who was being taught to kill.

Inside that dust filled library, away from the vindictive cruelty of his teachers Harry truly used magic. Without their input he was full of whispered words, that let a sickly green light slinking around the dim library till the air smelt of burnt hair and oil. His cousin's face was terribly fierce when he practised his magic, pinched and pained and cold as ice; he was a fearsome figure in some respects. Tiny and frail with bird bones; aiming his wand without a flinch as it poured out smoking magic and fire.

Dudley kind of hated magic. It was terribly unnatural and he felt a kinship to his jealous, wasted mother as he saw the power these witches held so uncaringly. It scared him.

Sometimes he thought it scared Draco too.

The metallic eyed boy didn't watch Harry like the others, he was too angry for that but sometimes he would pass the library as Harry let loose fire and lighting, and his face was a cracked mask of unresolved emotion and trepidation. He looked like he was watching someone die and in way Dudley supposed he was.

They all were.

The adults would stumble into the house a little thinner and ashen each day and Dudley felt like he watching people with cancer, dying in front of his eyes. He supposed in a way Harry was tainting himself to save them; trying to take their place. But he didn't think it worked like that no matter how much his skinny little cousin wished it was so. Harry was ready to throw himself to wolves and everyone else seemed all to happy with their sacrificial lamb but Dudley looked at his cousin and saw a child and wondered if everyone else was mad.

It took him a while to realise that they were just desperate. Protected inside the creaking walls of the safe house it was easy to forget about the reality of war outside and when the soldiers came limping in though the back door it was a cold slap of shameful fear, especially to Harry who seemed to think it their future rested on his shoulders. No tried to correct him.

The wolf man was the worse of the men who came back.

Harry would run his hands over the wolf man each time he came back, his tiny, child-like hands tracing the man's thinning body, feeling each newly protruding bone and ghosting over the blackened scabs with a relieved fear that made him tremble a little and wrap himself so tightly into the man's embrace Dudley didn't think anyone could have made him move.

The wolf man, Lupin was fading a little more each visit from the polite, shy middle aged man Dudley had first met. He was all edges and scars now, his hair wild and continuously matted and his expression bordering on feral. His dark eyes darted around the room and he flinched when Harry hugged him.

Dudley watched their exchanges feeling sick; he thought Lupin was going to die soon. Harry seemed to think so too. Harry's eyes were glazed and full of tears when the man turned away to leave and what was worse was Remus' were too.

Dudley didn't know where the man went, but he had heard the older redheads whispering about packs and someone called Greyback. It wasn't only Harry who was worried about Greyback but it was only Harry who said anything, his cousin would never say anything about his own brutal training or the breaking pressure he was under but he couldn't hold his tongue when it came to other people. His innocence made it all the more painful to watch.

He caught his cousin angrily talking to the greasy haired man, his fierce eyes dulled with knowledge and his hands fisted and shaking at his sides.

"You've got to take him out" he hissed, "They are starting to suspect him"

The man snorted; his face pinched and angry and Dudley wondered if he even cared.

"Please" Harry continued and there was something like disgust in his eyes at the man's dismissing gesture. "Please Snape, you must; they're hurting him" His words choked a little in his throat and he turned away from Snape's gleaming, intelligent eyes, the curling curtains of his dark hair sliding to cover his pale face. Dudley wondered if he was crying, Harry was pretty when he cried.

"Mr Potter, are you really so naive?" the man asked and his voice was apathetic over the little gasps of Harry's misery.

Harry shook his head and flinched away from the man's uncaring tone, folding into himself a little, looking tiny and fragile and glass like next to the imposing figure of his professor. Dudley thought he was beautiful.

"How can you be so cold?" he asked and he was full of hatred that was old and bitter as he glared up at his professor. Yet, it was also oddly childish and Dudley was reminded once again of Harry's innocence and wondered if it might not be immaturity instead.

"There is a war going on" Snape retorted and crossed his arms, his bony hands tapping at his sleeves impatiently, "people get hurt; thus is the nature of war. Do you really suppose yourself to be so special that everyone you care about can be immune to reality?"

His cousin let out a sound like kicked dog and for a moment Dudley thought he would leap at the professor. "I hate you" he said and there was such blind, childish conviction in his statement that it was probably just as bad as if he had physically hurt him. Dudley didn't understand exactly what was passing between the two in those moments but it felt wrong for his cousin to hold such blind abhorrence.

Snape obviously felt so too and his sharp whip like lash of laughter was full of a mixture of emotions that Dudley didn't really understand. "Grow up, Harry"

Harry paused and all but ran from the room, his face as cold and fragile as ice and his eyes full of anger and pain. Dudley would have followed but for a moment he was mesmerised by the older man's expression. His fingers were still tapping at his arm but now the movement seemed nervous rather than impatient and his cold eyes were melting into memories and guilt.

He wondered what the man's story was to cause such guilt. His face looked old and worn in the faded light of the kitchen, his eyes pressed deep into his skull and circled by rings of bruises and tiredness. He looked as close to death as the wolf man.

Morbidly Dudley wondered which one of them would die first.

Snape was a confusing person. His hatred for Harry was obvious and his feelings were returned with equal vigour but there was a complexity to his emotion that his skinny cousin lacked. Sometimes he would stare at Harry, his harsh face slack and eyes longing. At first Dudley had misunderstood him, disgusted and jealous until he'd remembered the empty, hollow desperation of his mother's face.

Petunia had looked at Harry the same way as Snape did, seeing not his fragile, bird boned cousin but Lily. Harry's mother must have shone so strongly from Harry's big, gem like eyes and his mother and Snape were both captured in them, lost to memoires and old hatred. Dudley sometimes wondered if anyone saw Harry for what he truly was. Some saw his parents and others just saw a saviour.

If had any thoughts about his own vision of his pretty, perfect cousin he didn't think too keenly on it, he wasn't ready for that.

Draco might have but he didn't want to think of that either.

Snape and Draco had a familiar fondness between them; that reminded him of Lupin and Harry. Expect it was stronger and harsher, Lupin treated Harry delicately and Harry only saw the best bits of his wolf uncle. Draco and Snape probably hated each a bit and he wondered if they would have been friends if not for the situation they had found themselves in.

He wondered if they could friends with the prospect of Harry in between them.

"You need to give him a break" Draco said suddenly, his voice low and sharp in the quietness of the kitchen and he was leaning against the doorframe, lit up white and dangerous in the morning light. Dudley pressed himself further into the shadows of the room and hoped they wouldn't notice him.

"Oh do I?" Snape sneered, any disquieting weariness hidden beneath a mask of mockery and cold hatred. He stiffened as Draco stepped into the room almost burning with feeling as he stared up at the older man.

"He's going to go mad if you keep up that training"

"We can only hope" Snape drawled and his words were so overwhelmed with his disdain for Dudley's skinny cousin that he almost didn't see Draco's shock white face fold up into lines of worry and pained rage.

"You're going to kill him, he doesn't say anything but he shouldn't have to. You're meant to notice how injured his is, how he doesn't eat or talk to anyone."

Snape paused for a second, his eyes flashing in knowledge that Dudley was pretty sure he already knew and his lips pursed as he waited for the rage to subside in Draco's exhausted from. He leant forward suddenly and pressed his hands into the youth's thin shoulders, curling his fingers tightly around thin collarbones and pressing as if to gain attention.

"Despite Mr Potter's many faults weakness is not one of them. If he is struggling it is not through anything I am doing." Snape's dark eyes were boring into Draco's closed off expression and he held tight as the pale youth flinched away from him.


Snape sneered at thought of his cousin and rolled his eyes, "The idiot boy needs to grow up, though I doubt that is possible" he paused and looked down at Draco's face as if searching for an answer to a question he considered disgusting. "Really Draco?"

Draco's white face was suddenly flooded with colour and Dudley was surprised; he had never seen the youth anything but controlled with his emotions and it was odd to see him so young and painfully human. It made him harder to hate.

"Severus, have you heard from my mother?"

Snape frowned and his face twisted in sympathy that sat heavy on his features. "No Draco, there is still no word. I am sure she is safe"

Draco snorted and pulled away from the man, "We both know that's a lie" he scoffed and edged away from Snape as if pained him to be in the man's company. "Will you..."

Snape nodded slowly, "I will tell you as soon as I hear any news. I am sure she is proud of you where ever she is"

Draco's face was pale and iced perfection once again, any hint of the teenager beneath lost in the sharp unwelcoming bones of his face and the narrowed blue slit of his eyes. "Now that is definitely a lie."

Snape was quiet as the Draco slipped out the room and it was only once the sound of the boy's footsteps had faded into the distance did he turn to Dudley, pressed up into the shadows of the kitchen. His black eyes were full of lightning and magic and Dudley felt himself quiver in unexpected fear. He was mostly ignored and being under the full force of one of the freak's gazes felt wrong and dangerous.

"If I catch you spying on anyone again, I'll curse you until you eat unless it's through a tube" Snape hissed and paused, wrinkling his face in disgust and Dudley felt himself wilt at the sharp hatred directed towards him. "Though that may be considered a kindness in your case"

The man winced suddenly and his hand curled around the top of his arm, pressing into the material so hard Dudley could see the thinness of his limbs and the taunt muscles that quivered beneath his robe. Snape's face was a mask of old pain and apprehension and he glanced warningly at him before he disappeared. The room was filled with the squeaky pop of magic and Dudley grimaced nervously at the sound. His heart was frozen in fear and he wondered if that was what it was like for Harry as he had faced the greasy haired professor. If it was, he cousin was braver than he was, but he already knew that.

By the time he managed to get his limbs to move, the anxious chatter of the rest of the household was echoing around the corridor and Dudley pressed himself against the doorframe, hating the way his body folded around the wood and remembered the slender silhouette Draco had made in the same position, hating him a little more.

"Harry? Harry?" Hermione's shrill voice broke through the haze of his resentment and Dudley stared as his skinny cousin stumbled toward the redhead family, his face streaked with blood that was sliding sluggish from the raw wound on his forehead, tracing the shocked edges of his face.

The bushy haired girl only just managed to grab at the dark haired youth before he slipped to the floor, his skin waxen and without the glitter smears of beauty Dudley was so used to seeing. Harry's hands were painted red and shaking as he grabbed at Hermione and she was as wide eyed as he was, gesturing angrily at the redheaded family as Harry started to mumble, his words an incoherent tumble.

"Voldemort, he, he... Where's Draco?"

Ron moved forward and hesitantly lifted his friend, his large limbs able to fold his slender friend up into the crook of his arm and he carried Harry into the kitchen, pushing Dudley into the hall and out of their way as he made his way into the kitchen, wincing as the light exposed Harry's torn up face and his wild expression.

"Ron... Ron... Where's Draco" Harry muttered again and there a thin desperation in his voice that made Hermione glance nervously up at her redheaded friend.

"Harry, are you okay?"

"Was it Voldemort?"

"What did you see?"

Harry hissed his irritated and tried to push away from the crowd of red that had gathered around him, stumbling with weakness, "Where's Draco!" he snapped and Ron's face was bright with jealously that didn't really have place in the presence of his bloody best friend, but was entirely human and full of humanity's logical.

"Harry, what did you see?" Ginny asked quietly and her voice was calm in the midst of her family's frantic demands.

Harry grabbed at her in desperation, his eyes so brilliantly bright with need that Dudley felt a little blinded and was reminiscent of his cousin's hunger desperation for love as a child. "Draco; I saw, I thought I saw... please Gin," he begged, "Please, where is Draco?"

"He's upstairs Harry" she said quietly and her eyes were flickering between his wild eyes and his fingers, caught up and curled around her jumper; his fingers were dark with blood but Dudley doubted if that was what she was noticing.

Harry seemed to fold up in confusion and his hair curled around his face like a curtain; the dark tendrils were tainted with the drying rust of blood that fell like red glitter around him as he shook his head. "But I saw... I thought I saw..."

"You saw him turn on us?" Ron demanded and there was something like ugly hope in voice that made Harry's eyes snap up cold and disgusted towards him.

"No. He wasn't on Voldemort's side." He corrected with a hiss, but there was still confusion and desperation overwhelming his face, even as the blood stopped flowing and dried against his face in a delicate tangle of darkening red lines like a lace veil.

"Well that's good to hear"

Dudley glanced as Draco appeared beside him in the doorway, jealously watching as Harry straightened at the sound of Draco's voice and scrambled away from the redheaded family, still shaking as he appeared before the slender form of the youth.

Draco's face tightening as the sight of Harry's bloodied features and his hand jerked slightly as he made to reach out for him, only his embarrassment and their old argument holding him back. "You get into a fight with a wall Potter?" he sneered but there was more worry than venom in his words and Dudley hated him so much for that.

"I thought... I saw you" Harry whispered, his voice only loud enough for the people outside of the kitchen to hear, "I saw you before Voldemort. I felt him torturing you. I heard you screaming"

Draco face was pale and his eyes flashed before he returned to his wall of cool emotionless. "I'm fine"

Harry suddenly threw his arms around the pale youth, capturing Draco's stiff body in the circle of his skinny, protective limbs and holding him as if he would break and Dudley had never felt such cold, painful jealousy as he did in that moment. He wanted to rip them apart, tear them to pieces and his jealousy flared into rage and hatred as he watched and his fists were pressed up against his mouth, holding back his angry words and screams.

Dudley felt himself stumbling backwards, unable to contain himself so close to them.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I thought you'd..." Harry whispered and his eyes were full of diamonds tears as he pressed his face into the crook of Draco's neck. The pale youth eyes flickered delicately to Harry's bowed head and he scowled at the watching redheads until they looked away, and placed his hands tentatively into the small of Harry's back, his fingers quickly coiling up into the loose folds of material that hung of his cousin's skinny frame.

"It wasn't me." Draco said fiercely and stared in Harry's desperate, dream filled eyed. "I'm fine, I'm here."

Harry gripped tighter and his mouth opened, moving frantically but all that came out were whispers of sound that didn't mean anything other than to express his relief.

Draco grinned at him; his razor sharp smirk softening to one that almost resembled something tender and pressed his thumb into the dried blood on Harry's face, smearing the redness until Harry's skin glowed pale gold. Dudley was scared as Harry caught sight of Draco's expression, his own smile full of brightness and emotion and something he didn't want to acknowledge but that made Hermione quickly start up a conversation with the rest of the redhead family until it overwhelmed Draco and Harry's whispered conversation.

"Draco... I..." their embrace become awkward and tense and Harry pulled away quickly, his cheeks flushed and eyes downcast but still full of stars and relief.

Dudley flinched away from them, knowing and uncertain of the next words and was so relieved by the angry bubbling pop that echoed around the house that he didn't even noticed at first as Snape's snarling voice called for Draco's attention.

Dudley didn't have time to move before Snape was framed, all black billowing clothes and hard eyes in the doorway. He seemed to melt and shrink as he caught sight of Draco's soft, smirking face. His frantic energy seeping out of him until there was only weariness and emotion.


"Sev?" Draco frowned and stepped away from Harry, glancing over his shoulder at Harry's questioning face before approaching the flustered potions master. The man seemed to flinch away as the youth reached for him and his face was crinkled in frowns and tired wrinkles.

"Draco, I'm sorry. You're mother, she's with Voldemort" he whispered and Harry's breath caught audible enough for Dudley's gaze to shift momentarily to his quivering cousin.

"Draco" Harry started quietly and hesitantly reached for the silent youth, but Draco ignored him and stared up at Snape, his face hard and fragile as glass.

"They tortured her?" he whispered, "did she..."

Snape glanced over at Harry's blood smeared forehead and his eyebrows knotted in anger as if blaming the boy for the torture of Draco's mother. Dudley realised that the man wouldn't have told Draco if he could have helped it and wondered how Snape could be so cruel to one boy and so painfully kind to another.

"She's alive. Voldemort won't kill her"

Draco's mouth was gaping like a fish and for once all his witty, sneering replies were lost and Dudley was torn between almost sympathy and vindication at the boy's sudden weakness. He hated the boy and couldn't have cared less about his mother, but the idea of his own mum being hurt made his words of cruel mockery silent in his mouth and even if he wasn't able to express sympathy he wasn't able to do anything either.

It was probably about as kind as he got.

"Thank you for telling me" Draco said and his words echoed hollowly around the corridor as he left, his feet heavy on the first step.

Harry stared after him, his face twisted up in feeling, pain and empathy heavy across his features in an expression neither Dudley nor Draco could manage to feel. His hands were moving at his sides and he watched Draco's stiff back as he padded upstairs, desperate to follow but uncertain in their relationship.

"Mr Potter" Snape sneered and his anger smouldered hot enough, to have the dark haired boy twisting around to look at him.

"I didn't know" he whispered, "I'm sorry. I just... I didn't know"

Snape scowled at him and for a moment Dudley thought he would hit him, he didn't and in a way Dudley wished he had. "I suggest you try very hard not to hurt him anymore" and he gestured with a sharp nod at the creaking stairs.

Harry would have smiled at the man if he hadn't already been turning to the away desperately, his limbs still shaking with the force of his visions and his eyebrows low over his eyes in determination.

Dudley ignored the hard, dark stare that Snape gave him and pressed himself against the banister, hot and cold in his expectancy and fear.

"I doubt you will enjoy what you will find up there" Snape interrupted, his voice soft enough so that no one could understand him.

Dudley quaked at the words and curled his hands into fists at his side, unable to voice the need to follow his cousin, to know what he was doing, to stay in the light of Harry's goodness and emotion because he had nothing else. He didn't have words to express his tangled up mixture of need and obsession and jealously or the half cracked fantasy he was living in and the broken image of his fragile, perfect cousin.

He didn't have words but Snape's face was dark and smooth with knowledge, he shrugged one sharp shoulder before turning away and Dudley started up the stairs.

Author's notes

We're nearly there, one more chapter to go or at least that is the plan. I'm sorry for the exceptionally long wait for this guys; this chapter was a bitch to write. Thanks to Abby Ebon for the helpful comments. This chapter is unbeta'd but just go with it.

Hope you all had a nice christmas and speaking of food, I cooked and celebrated my first thanksgiving; for those who don't already know; don't start drinking until after the food is cooked. While it may make things a lot funnier, you will burn things and cause the firealarms to go off which will mean a total building evacuation and make everyone hate your flat just a little. But ignoring that, it was great, who knew pecan pie was so nice?

If you like the tv show superntaural, I have written a Supernatural/Harry Potter crossover which you may be intersted in.

Reviews are desperately wanted and needed.