Title: 11 Things
Verb Tense:
Narrative past; Dialogues in present tense
Chaptered story
Before her life ends, Hermione Granger wanted to do eleven things… Dramione!

Disclaimer: Seriously not mine.

A/N: And so, here I am. Back and alive. I'm so glad I survived a few weeks without the internet. I almost died, people, DIED! Anyway, so I have this new story, "11 Things". I did this while on vacation somewhere, writing an outline in a Math notebook (you know, with the little squares and all). I'm done having ideas about this new story of mine though, I still haven't typed all of the chapters. To be honest, I'm already in Chapter 5 (I'm cool, aren't I). This story just popped up in my mind one day after watching a movie (can't tell the title) and before I knew it, I was writing down on a Math notebook.

I hope you support this new story of mine. Draco/Hermione ship is a bloody good pair, isn't it? I'll never tire of writing stories about this fabulous pair.

So, here goes nothing. Enjoy!

11 Things


"Remind me why I'm going to do this again," Hermione Granger, age twenty-five, said, pacing back and forth in front of Dr. Hayden Nobleman's office door.

"Oh for crying out loud!" Draco Malfoy exclaimed, arms above his head in frustration. "We've talked about this for the umpteenth time, Granger. Do I have to repeat it again?"

Hermione's face contorted into an indistinguishable look. "Is it even necessary? I mean, look at me from head to toe. I look healthy, don't I?"

Draco tapped a finger thoughtfully against his chin as he surveyed her from head to toe. "Yes, yes, Granger, absolutely healthy." His eyes lingered on her head and then, a small smirk grew on his face. "But on second thought… I think you have a… hmmm, what's it called? Oh, yes, a mental disorder."

The brunette scowled and playfully hit his right arm. "Draco, I'm being serious here!" she exclaimed, now nervously wringing her wrist.

"All right, Hermione, I'm going to explain it to you again," the blond said, crossing his arms against his chest. "You are a bloody Auror, one of the greatest in fact. And, Aurors are supposed to be healthy. No sickness whatsoever. The Ministry is just making sure that you are healthy and all. Though" – he frowned – "I don't quite understand it why, of all places in the whole wide world, you chose to have your check-up here in a bloody Muggle Hospital. You can just choose St. Mungo's Hermione. You'll even have a discount because you're best friend to the son of the owner."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, for your information, all Aurors were given the order to have their own check-ups and so, there are a lot of Aurors waiting for their turn to have their check-up plus those who have their own reasons to visit St. Mungo's and so basically, it's bloody crowded and I don't want to waste my time in a Wizard Hospital." Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust, glaring at Dr. Nobleman's (the doctor who was supposed to give Hermione her check-up). "I'm not really fond of hospitals, Muggle or Wizard, you know."

"Fine, fine, whatever, Beaver," Draco said. 'Beaver' was what he fondly called her (since she wouldn't stop calling him 'Ferret'). Actually, she didn't look like a beaver at all. Her teeth were perfect and pearly-white, no hint that her two front teeth were once abnormally large. He had called her 'Beaver' too because of this particular incident in their fourth year when he was still the Slytherin badass and cursed her two front teeth to grow larger.

"For heavens' sake, Ferret, stop calling me 'Beaver'!" she exclaimed. "You don't have to remind me about my teeth's imperfection when I was still young."

"Only if you stop calling me 'Ferret'," he said, eyebrows lifted challengingly. "Because you know, you also don't have to remind me of my past doom when Barty Crouch Jr. a.k.a. fake Moody turned me into a disgusting creature, of all animals!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and faced the door again. "All right, we're coming in," she said, shifting her eyes away from the door towards her watch. "I'm already five minutes late, you know." Taking a deep breath, she muttered repeatedly under her breath, "I'm coming in. I'm coming in. I'm coming in. I'm coming in…" Every sentence, she took a step.

The blond looked at her in amusement, thinking that she looked like a broken record… though, strangely endearing.

"I'm coming in" – one step – "I'm coming in" – another step – "I'm coming in" – and another – "I'm coming in." Hermione made an abrupt stop, face now a few inches away from the door. She took another deep breath. Instead of turning the doorknob open, she swiveled around. A look of fright was seen on her face, left hand wringing her wrist again. "I can't do this, Draco. I really can't."

"Woah, woah, woah, Granger, what the hell is wrong with you?" the blond asked, perplexed. "You're just going to have a check-up. After a few minutes, it's done, you know."

Hermione bit her bottom lip and looked at the floor. She muttered something incoherent, still constantly wringing her wrist.

"What was that? I didn't quite catch it."

She sighed dejectedly then looked straight into his silver eyes. "I'm afraid of injections," she said with a quiver, saying 'injections' as if it was taboo.

Draco looked at her incredulously. "Really, Hermione, April Fools is still four months from now."

The brunette frowned. "I'm not kidding, Draco. I'm really afraid of injections." She turned away from him, fists now clenched. "I mean, I'm having my check-up, all right? So that means I'm going to be injected with a bloody needle." She shivered visibly. "They say it's just like an ant bit you but it's worse… much, much worse."

The blond couldn't help it anymore. He burst into boisterous laughter. "Hermione Granger, Gryffindor Lioness, is afraid of injections. This must be the best day of my life."

Hermione scowled and rolled her eyes. "All right, laugh all you want."

Draco calmed himself down and patted Hermione's arm. "Aww, come on, Beaver, you have to admit it was very funny." Before Hermione could retort something back, he held both of her shoulders and steered her towards the door. "Now, be the 'Gryffindor Lioness' you once were, Granger, and face 'the ultimate icky freaky needle'. After that, I'll treat you ice cream."

The brunette face lit up. "Coffee Crumble?"

"Of course," he said, giving her his rare smile.

She took a deep breath and released it with a loud 'whoosh'. "Okay, fine, I can do this." She looked at her watch and squeaked. "Eeek! I'm ten minutes late!" She wrenched the door open, making the occupant inside the room jump in surprise.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, Dr. Nobleman, it was kind of traffic in the streets a while ago and the taxi we rode was abnormally slow," she lied smoothly.

Dr. Hayden Nobleman was a middle-aged man with thinning auburn hair and electric blue eyes behind spectacles. Hermione blinked. He greatly resembled ex-Headmaster Albus Dumbledore when he was in his middle ages. Apparently, Draco noticed the resemblance, too, since his mouth was open, eyes almost bulging out of his eye sockets. Hermione took the liberty to close his mouth for him, concerned that a fly might find its way inside the gaping hole.

"Oh, not at all, Miss" – he flipped a notebook open – "Granger. You are my last patient for the day, anyway."

"Oh, okay."

"Please, have a seat," he gestured the stiff-looking chair in front of his desk.

Hermione scrambled slowly towards the chair and fell on it with a soft 'thud'. She winced. It was stiffer that it looked.

Dr. Nobleman's eyes then landed on Draco who was looking around the office, amazement evident on his face as his eyes jumped from one Muggle medical contraption to another. "And you are?"

"Draco Malfoy, sir," he said, nodding his head in greeting.

"Oh," the doctor said, eyes landing on Hermione, "your boyfriend?"

Hermione turned into a deep shade of red while the blond paled. "No!" they exclaimed in unison, surprising the doctor.

"Erm… actually yes," the brunette slowly said. At the corner of her eyes, she saw the horrified look on the blond's face. "What I meant to say was, you know, he's a friend that is a boy, so he's my boy friend," she said, trying to explain. "My best friend, actually."

"Oh," the doctor said, nodding his head thoughtfully. His eyebrow shot up once seeing the abrupt disappointment on the blond's face. "I see."

Hermione cleared her throat. "I'm here to have my check-up."

"Of course, that's why you are here," Dr. Nobleman said, motioning Draco to sit on the chair opposite Hermione. "So," he flipped his notebook open again, "you have to have a check-up for your work which is a criminologist… Hmm, impressive job, I must say."

"Criminologist?" Draco asked, curiosity in his tone of voice.

Hermione kicked him at the shin, earning a soft 'ow' from him.

"Are you quite all right, Mr. Malfoy?" Dr. Nobleman asked, eyes now trained on the blond.

He gave the doctor a charming fake smile and shook his head. "Oh, of course I am, Dr. Nobleman. Please resume what you were doing."

The doctor buried his head on his notebook again, looking at some simple facts about Hermione. "You're an orphan, I see," he said. "Your parents died in a car crash when you were still nineteen-years-old."

Hermione nodded slowly, face falling. Her parents never died in a car crash. They were too practical and careful to die because of that kind of an accident. In actuality, they died because of the Death Eaters that raided her house. They were supposed to find and kill her. Unfortunately (or fortunately, really), she was not home. So instead of her, her parents were the ones killed.

"Quite interesting facts, Miss Granger," Dr. Nobleman resumed. "You studied in a boarding school somewhere in Scotland ever since you were eleven-years-old and I presume that Mr. Malfoy here was your classmate."

"Yes, quite right," Hermione said.

"And a valedictorian. Impressive, really."

Draco released a huge breath. "Is she accepted in her job or what?" he sarcastically said. "Really, is this a job interview or a medical check-up?"

"Draco!" Hermione scolded softly while Dr. Nobleman looked at the blond, amusement evident on his face.

"You have to do something after this, I see," the doctor said, standing up and opened a cabinet.

The Malfoy heir rolled his eyes while Hermione stared at him disapprovingly.

After opening the third cabinet, Dr. Nobleman pulled out the object he was finding and sat down on his seat again. Upon seeing the object, Hermione paled instantly – syringe with a needle taunting her.

"May I go to the washroom?" she squeaked softly, standing up abruptly.

"Oh no, you may not, Granger," Draco said, holding her arms and pulling her down on her seat again. Upon seeing Dr. Nobleman's curios look, Draco explained. "She's afraid of injection."

"Oh," Dr. Nobleman said. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and held the syringe. "Mr. Malfoy, can you please hold her still," he said absentmindedly. Hermione was squirming on her seat. "Now, Miss Granger, this will only feel like an ant bit you." The syringe was nearing her arm, making her whimper slowly. Draco covered her mouth and shook his head. "Hermione, this won't be painful. Where's all your bravery?"

And then, the needle injected in Hermione's arm.

And then, a scream erupted.

Not from Hermione and definitely not from Dr. Nobleman.

It was from Draco.

Apparently, to contain her scream of terror and pain, Hermione bit Draco's hand (that was still covering her mouth). And it was real hard, judging by Draco's sudden yelp of pain.

Dr. Nobleman pulled the needle out of Hermione's muscle and pressed the small, bleeding hole with cotton. "See, it wasn't painful at all."

Hermione sheepishly smiled at the scowling blond, teeth marks visible on his right hand. Dr. Nobleman softly laughed, amused at the scene unfolding in front of him.

"Now, Miss Granger, as I survey you from head to toe, it seems like you are quite healthy," the doctor said, his eyes roaming around Hermione's body. He checked her eyesight (20-20), weight and height, heart rate, blood pressure, and so on and so forth.

"You will get the result of your blood test this coming Saturday. Is that all right?" he said, closing the notebook where Hermione's records were.

"Yes," she said.

"Then, that's it. It's nice meeting you Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy."

Hermione nodded and stood up. She walked out of the door, a scowling blond following her who was cradling his injured hand.

The brunette turned to him, the sheepish smile evident on her face again. "So, Coffee Crumble?"

Draco scowled and showed her wordlessly his hand before, without any second thought, apparated to his own house.

Hermione sighed and shook her head, apparating to his house to follow him.

Really, all he needed was a big hug from the brunette so that she would be forgiven.


"Ready to get your result, Granger?" Draco asked as they were once again in front of Dr. Nobleman's office door. It had been six days since her check-up. Dr. Nobleman called her and told her that her result would be given to her on Monday instead of Saturday.

Hermione gave him a smile. "Yeah."

"Remember, Hermione, there's nothing to worry about," he reassured her. "You're pretty healthy to me."

"Thanks," she said, releasing a nervous laugh. She opened the door again and was greeted by Dr. Nobleman who gave both of them a weak smile. Hermione felt more nervous. There was something in Dr. Nobleman's eyes that made her worried. "Good afternoon, Dr. Nobleman."

"Good afternoon Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy. Have a seat," he said, gesturing at the seats.

Hermione and Draco followed him and sat down. The doctor looked from the brunette to the blond back to the brunette with a grim expression on his face. The brunette held Draco's hand, surprising him mildly. She didn't like the look on the doctor's face.

"Miss Granger, I'm sorry for your delayed results," he said. "There was a great uproar, a huge fire, last Saturday here in the hospital so we had no choice but to put everything on hold."

"Umm… it's all right," the brunette softly said. She smiled at the blond weakly when he gave her hand a gentle squeeze for support. "So, am I gonna die or not?"

Draco released a soft snicker with the brunette's joke while the brunette cracked a small smile. Dr. Nobleman's expression, though, never changed. In fact, he looked quite grimmer than usual.

The doctor produced a small envelope from his desk and gave it to the brunette. "I'm sorry, Miss Granger, but you are going to die."

The blond's jaw dropped while Hermione's eyes widened.

"You have lung cancer and your days are counted," Dr. Nobleman continued. "You're not going to live long."

"WHAT?!" Draco roared, standing up abruptly. Because of this, his stiff chair toppled on the ground. Hermione flinched because of the noise but Dr. Nobleman seemed unperturbed. "Is this some kind of a sick joke?"

The brunette looked at the ground. "How… how long am I going to live?" she asked, almost inaudibly.

Dr. Nobleman released a tired sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Five months as the shortest; a year, the longest."

"Hermione, he's barking mad! Don't listen to him!" the furious blond exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger towards the doctor.

"Mr. Malfoy, please sit down," the doctor said. The blond obliged and placed the chair back into its original position. He sat down on it and looked at the brunette pointedly.

"But… but how come I have… lung cancer?" Hermione asked, eyes glazed as she stared at the doctor. "I mean… I haven't felt anything at all. No symptoms. No nothing."

"She's right," Draco asked, hope creeping into his face.

"Miss Granger, lung cancer is one of the silent killer diseases known," Dr. Nobleman explained. "Symptoms will show once the cancer is serious already."

Hermione bit her bottom lip.

"In your case, the symptoms will show after two months," Dr. Nobleman said, looking at his notebook. "Thank God we've detected your cancer earlier than the symptoms kicked in. I will give you immediate medication. It might slow down your cancer."

The brunette sighed and shook her head. "I… I won't take it." That surprised Dr. Nobleman and Draco.

"Hermione!" the blond exclaimed.

She looked at Draco, her best friend for six years, the only person who was right beside her after the war and gave him a small smile. She patted his right hand. "I will die soon anyway so… what's the point?" She looked back at Dr. Nobleman and gave him a smile, too. "Thank you, Dr. Nobleman. I have to go now." She clutched the envelope and walked out of the doctor's office.

Draco covered his face with his hands and released a small groan. Dr. Nobleman looked at him apologetically.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy. I really am."


It had been three days since they discovered Hermione's disease. After the brunette left, Draco quickly apparated to his own house (smaller than the Malfoy Manor but way bigger than normal houses and Hermione's own apartment). He rushed to his bookshelf and snatched a dictionary.

Cancer (kan-ser) n. genitive Can-cri:

1. Any malignant growth or tumor caused by abnormal and uncontrolled cell division; it may spread to other parts of the body through the lymphatic system or the blood stream.

Draco didn't care about the other definitions of cancer (the zodiac sign, the constellation, etc.) Malignant was the word. And it could spread to other parts of the body!

Hermione had the evilest, most hateful disease that was ever discovered by science.

Before he knew it, Draco threw the dictionary to the crackling fire in his fireplace.

Now, he was walking towards her apartment three days after Hermione received her result. It was nighttime already, streetlights lightening the streets. He was walking… thinking.

It was still too bizarre for him. How can she, the Gryffindor Lioness, have cancer? Hermione was healthy… too healthy, in Draco's opinion. She rarely got sick and if she did, she would heal quickly. She had a strong stamina, high metabolism, and all. She ate healthy food, following a strict diet.

So, how the bloody bleeding hell did she catch cancer?

Draco sighed and looked at the pavement. His hands unconsciously toyed with the pendant of his necklace around his neck. Actually, the pendant was a ring… an engagement ring. It was intricately and exquisitely designed. It was one and only.

And it was for Hermione.

He had been planning to propose to her for three years already. But he just didn't have the guts to kneel down on one knee in front of her and ask The Big Question. He was a born Slytherin, anyway. And she had refused a lot of her suitors in the past six years he was with her! That made him more cowardly. Plus, his father hated her mere existence. He hated it whenever she was within his eyesight. Narcissa, though, was another story. She absolutely adored Hermione.

The blond then arrived in front of her apartment (a modest, small one) and apparated inside. Wards and hexes were around Hermione's apartment so no one, except him, could go inside her own apartment without any warning.

Draco then sighed as he looked around her living room. They had been here a lot if they weren't working. They would sit down on her couch, eat popcorn and have a movie marathon (Muggle movies, of course). Now, the state of her living room was a total disaster. It was as if a tornado came. Empty ice cream cans were there, pieces of popcorn were strewn on the carpeted floor, some of her clothes were draped on her couches and DVDs were scattered around the room. Draco picked one. A Walk to Remember, the title said. He shook his head. They had watched it a few weeks ago and he could still remember the story. No wonder why Hermione watched it again. She could now relate with Jamie Sullivan, minus a Landon Carter in her life.

He looked up at her stairs, eyes immediately landing on her bedroom door. The blond trudged up, making sure that a frown was evident on his face so that if Hermione saw him, she would presume that he was upset about what she was doing to her life.

He wrenched her door open. "All right, Granger, stop moping around," Draco said, announcing his arrival. He immediately spotted her, sitting on her favorite swiveling chair. Hermione's chin was placed on top of her desk, her hands covering the top of her head. Her music box was open, her favorite music serenading her. An ice skater glided around a small rink, twirling and swirling at some time. It still made Draco think why it wasn't a ballerina. His mother owned one music box and a ballerina was there. Shouldn't music boxes have a ballerina instead of an ice skater?"

With a sigh, Draco approached Hermione in quick strides. "Granger, get a bloody grip! You're just killing yourself faster!" All right, he didn't mean to say that. He was just upset because she didn't even owl him or something like that.

Hermione mumbled something incoherent but he didn't quite catch it.

"What was that?" he asked with a frown.

She released a muffled sigh and lifted her head. A disgruntled expression was on her face, her eyes quite puffy and red. Draco could see dry tears on her cheek. "I wasn't moping around, Draco," she said.

Draco lifted an eyebrow, pointedly looking at the dry tears on her cheek.

"All right, fine," she grumbled, wiping away her dry tears. "I… I cried, you know. But only for a day, I swear. I mean…" Hermione sighed again and stood up, revealing her white tank top and shorts – her idea of pajamas. She rubbed her right eye and frowned.

And then, she looked at him, a grim expression evident on her face. "Of course, I cried. What if you just discovered that you're life will end soon?" Exasperatedly, she plopped down on her swiveling chair and covered her face with her hands.

"What's this I heard from your co-workers in the Ministry?" he asked, frowning. "You resigned from your work and why the hell did you do that?"

"Draco!" she exclaimed. "I have lung cancer. The reason why I took a medical check-up was to reassure the Ministry that I'm very healthy. Since I have this… this damnable disease, I'm not fit into being an Auror." Hermione sighed. "And besides, it's not my dream job, anyway."

The blond sighed and shook his head. "I bet that Weaselette will jump for joy once she discovered about your cancer, Beaver." That was downright insensitive of him, but then again, he was upset of everything that was happening.

Hermione sharply looked at him, eyes strangely glazed. "Please take that back," she said, followed by a strangled sob.

"Hermione! She left you for six years, for goodness sake! Good friend she is to you!" he snarled.

"Please, stop it," she pleaded, covering her face with her hands again. Draco's fury lessened upon seeing her cry. Talking about Ginny Weasley was a touchy subject for the brunette, even after six years.

"She blamed you for the death of her bloody fiancée and brother. That was stupid, wasn't it?" Draco said, enveloping the brunette into a hug who was now crying uncontrollably. Since she was seated and he was standing, her head ended buried against his stomach. He then sighed, patting her back gently. "I'm sorry," he said softly, apologetically, "That was very insensitive of me. I shouldn't have said that."

The brunette sniffed and wiped her tears against the back of her hand. She released a soft chuckle and said, "Goodness, this sickness of mine made me a huge human hosepipe."

Draco rubbed her back soothingly, making a small smile. He released her from his hug as she looked at her calendar, a thoughtful look seen on her face.

"I'm sorry, I haven't seen you for… what? Three days?" She looked away from the calendar to the blond in front of her. "I made you worried, didn't I?"

"Damn right that was," he said, backing away from her as he sat down on her comfy bed.

She chuckled as she looked at the notebook on top of her desk. "I wasn't lying when I said I cried for a day only," she said. With a sigh, she flipped her notebook open. "I didn't know I was thinking for two days!"

"Thinking about what?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione looked back at him, a small smile seen on her face. "I made a list." She showed him her notebook. The blond squinted his eyes, mouthing the words.

"'The 11 Things I Want To Do Before I Die' a.k.a. '11 Things'," he said. His eyebrows shot up again as he stared at her in amusement. "Really, Granger." He stood up and snatched the notebook away from her and scanned its contents. "Why '11 Things'?"

"Well, why not?" she asked.

"Why not '10 Things'?" he offered. "I mean, ten is an even number."


"Err… ten is perfect?" he asked, a charming smile on his face.

Hermione laughed and shook her head. "But that's… too cliché, Draco." She patted his arm and continued, "Before I die, I want to do something different."

He scoffed. "Typical." He looked at her notebook and scanned it again. "I presume that eleventh is the least thing you wanted to do and number one is the thing you most wanted to do." Hermione nodded her head. "Woah, wait a minute. There are only ten things here. Where's your number one?"

Hermione stood up from her swiveling chair and plopped down on her bed, face down. She rolled on her back and hugged her favorite huge stuffed toy, a ferret. It greatly resembled Draco when he was turned into a ferret on their fourth year. Hermione had it last Christmas. As a joke, Draco gave her a huge ferret stuffed toy while Hermione gave him a huge beaver. "That's what I was thinking," she said, eyes drooping and releasing a wide yawn.

The blond plopped down beside her, putting his left hand behind his head. The other was still clutching her notebook. "I'm going to be frank to you, Hermione, but some of the things here in your list are plain stupid."

Hermione faced him and scowled (quite sleepily). "Oh sod off," she said, pushing him with all of her strength until he fell with a loud thud on the floor, face down. He emitted a small groan while Hermione giggled.

She got off from her bed and sat down on his back.

"Merlin, woman, what the hell are you eating? Rocks?" Draco asked, grunting. "Get off me!"

Hermione rolled from his back and lied down beside him, eyes staring at her ceiling. "All right, fine, I admit."

"That you eat rocks?" he asked, mockingly surprised.

"No, you idiot, I admit that some of the things on my list are stupid… only a bit, I tell you!" she grumbled. The blond chuckled, still lying on his stomach. "But, I don't know, I'd thought of those for two days. I really thought hard, you know, Draco and I… I really like to do all of them."

He looked at her, left cheek pressed against her carpeted floor. He let his emotions show in his eyes as he gazed at beautiful Hermione Granger. Just thinking about her going to… to vanish soon was too much for him to handle. In those three days when they hadn't seen each other, Hermione wasn't the only one who was moping around, apparently.

Immediately snapping out of his reverie, he guarded his eyes again. Hermione looked at him then, eyes pleading. "You will help me, right?"

He smiled at her, a smile that was rarely seen on his face. "Of course, Granger. You're my best friend, anyway," he said.

Hermione smiled and released a wide yawn.

"All right, time for bed," he said.

"Yes, Daddy," Hermione tiredly said, now climbing up her bed. She hugged her favorite stuffed toy and closed her eyes. "Lock the door when you leave."

He smirked. "No 'Goodnight, Draco. Sweet Dreams or whatsoever'?"

Hermione gave him a sleepy smile. "Come here," she ordered.

Draco lifted an eyebrow but still approached her. The brunette wrapped her arms around his neck and placed a kiss on his forehead. "Goodnight, Draco."

He chuckled and kissed her cheek. "Sleep tight, Hermione," he whispered.

"Don't let the bed bugs bite," she whispered back, drifting to dreamland.

Once he made sure she was asleep, he walked towards the door. On his way out, he closed her music box, still thinking why it was an ice skater rather than a ballerina. He looked back at her list and produced another one. If he wanted to help Hermione, he had to do it as soon as possible.

A/N: And, that's the prologue. Liked it/Hated it so far? I know it's quite cliche and all... anyway, I'm sorry for the grammatical errors. I've planned in getting a beta reader but I just can't choose! Can someone volunteer? If someone did, I'll send you a copy of the outline of my story :D. By the way, this story will only be quite short (a total of thirteen chapters).

By the way, I'm not sure if a doctor can detect lung cancer through checking his/her blood (though, I presume he can). I mean, hello, I'm fourteen-years-old and still in first year high school! All I know that lung cancer is a silent killer. I'm not really an expert in this field. But, for the sake of my story, lets just pretend that all the things here are true :D

Oh, and for all of the PiD readers out there, I promise I'll update next week.

That's all. Review please!