Little Shelly Warrington was a wonderful mixture of her parents, complete with her mother's baby-blue eyes and her father's chocolate hair. Draco cocked an eyebrow at the two-and-a-half-year-old girl as she waddled on her learning legs around his sitting room, moving away from her father's ever-protective presence to give Hermione a curious look.
"Big," she quipped in her little voice, pointing a chubby finger at her godmother.
"Well, she's not wrong there."
Draco's eyes shifted to his witch on the opposite sofa as she started to laugh, placing her delicate hand over her swollen stomach and giving the child a fond look.
He wanted to sigh with relief.
Hermione was currently going through a very bitchy stage of her pregnancy and had been ready to Avada him less than two hours ago when he'd pointed out that yet another jumper didn't fit her properly. A foolish mistake, he knew, but it had just slipped out. Fearing for his own life, he had insisted that Amelia and Caleb come over with their daughter, knowing his imminent murder was less likely with some witnesses around.
If there was one thing he'd learned about pregnancy, it was that men were fucked from day one.
There were millions of books dedicated to preparing women for the inevitable hormones and symptoms, but he had yet to find a manual directing men how to deal with them.
The craving stage had been alright, although there was something very unsettling about watching your lover create vile concoctions consisting of bacon and chocolate or custard-covered chips. After a few weeks of some odd-tasting kisses, her unnerving eating habits had settled down, although she had a consistent fetish with marmalade; a conserve which she had previously hated.
The crying stage had been draining, and Draco had taken to hiding that remote control thing to save Hermione tearing up over RSPCA adverts and anything else that had slight dose of peril. He'd even been forced to take a few days off when she'd started weeping about his departures for work in the mornings.
The horny stage, cruelly the shortest of all the stages, had been bloody genius. His advice for any future fathers would be to not get led into a false sense of excitement. The sex had been anywhere and everywhere for all of two weeks, before she'd landed in the angry stage. Convinced that she would still be reasonably randy one morning, he had stirred her awake with hopes of a quickie before work, and she had promptly bitten off his head.
He'd locked her wand in a cupboard one particularly bad night; just to be safe.
He eyed her now with a sense of complete wonder. She was almost ripe and ready, and when she had a smile on her face like she did now, it suited her perfectly. He eyed the antique ring on her finger and managed to halt the look of affection that threatened to steal his features. She was chatting merrily with Amelia while Shelly continued her little journey towards the two Muggle-borns and was hoisted into her mother's lap.
He reluctantly turned away when he felt Caleb nudge his arm. "Fifty Galleons says your first born ends up in Gryffindor," he muttered quietly.
Draco scowled and looked back at his goddaughter, who was now spreading her palms across Hermione's hard abdomen while Amelia tried to explain that there was a baby inside.
"One hundred Galleons says Shelly will be in Hufflepuff," he retorted snidely, shaking the offered hand with a firm tug. "You'd better remember this in nine years."
"Boy?" Shelly asked suddenly, and Draco snapped his eyes back over to the three females.
"We don't know yet, angel," Hermione explained slowly. "You can see in two weeks."
"Are you getting any feelings about what it might be?" Amelia questioned with a knowing smile, absently stroking her daughter's hair.
"Well, I think it's a girl," the witch replied, locking eyes with him. "But Draco's adamant that it's a boy-
"Because he is a boy," he spoke up, giving her a confident look. "I bet you fifty Galleons."
"I'm not going to place a bet on our unborn child!" she snapped angrily, missing the disconcerted look shared between the two men. "Anyway, no. I don't really believe in all that rubbish about high belly means boy or whatever it is."
"And what about names?" Amelia continued. "Have you thought of any yet?"
"Well," the other witch breathed. "Draco wants to keep his family tradition with using astronomy, and I really like that idea. Only problem is, the boy names are rather limited. I like Thuban, and it's actually in Draco, which I think is quite cool-
"It's an effing horrible name," Draco frowned, knowing to mind his language around Shelly after a fair bit of practice. "I don't understand what's wrong Scorpius-
"That name borders on child cruelty," she backfired quickly, having fought this argument several times in the previous weeks. "Especially because the baby might actually be a Scorpio."
"What about girl names?" the other witch cut in, recognising the beginnings of a pregnancy-induced argument when she saw one.
"We agreed on Lyra," Hermione sighed, leaning back into the couch with a heavy moan. "I would kill for a glass of wine right now."
Draco smirked at her comment, but it faltered when he felt something nuzzle against his calf, and a feline whine stole his attention. Shelly's excitement was instant and she struggled out of her mother's hold and made a beeline for the ginger pet.
"He probably wants food," his fiancée offered, and he noted the fatigue to her voice. "Take Shelly with you, Draco. You know she loves feeling him."
"Alright," he grunted, rising from his seat. "Come on, Shelly," he called, keeping a close eye on the little witch as she followed him and the cat into the kitchen.
Despite the upcoming birth of his own child, he was still a little awkward around his goddaughter, and was content to let Hermione lavish her with devotion on his behalf. He handed Shelly a small pouch of treats and observed her as she fell into the usual routine; sitting cross-legged on the floor and hand-feeding Crookshanks with innocent giggles and awed eyes.
He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the counter; frowning when a wave of unsettling notions washed over him. And not for the first time. The closer Hermione's due-date had crept up on him, the more inadequate and unprepared he'd felt. Becoming a godfather had been daunting enough, so Merlin knew how he'd cope with being a father.
Studying the two-year-old, he recalled how quickly he had felt protective and aware of her well-being. He would join Caleb on a dangerous rampage if anyone ever laid a finger on the girl, but that wasn't enough. He was pretty certain that children required affection, and that was certainly not his strong point.
Then again, Caleb was hardly a softy, and he was a bloody brilliant father. If his kid adored him as much as Shelly adored Caleb; he'd be a very fortunate man.
"Baby soon," the dark-haired toddler stole his thoughts, and he glanced down to find her looking at him expectantly. With a brief chuckle, he crouched down so he was level with her, and she tilted her head to regard him with smiling eyes.
"Yes," he nodded slowly, giving her hair a small ruffle. "Baby soon."
"Ow," Hermione groaned quietly, running her soothing palms across her taut abdomen. "Fidgety little bugger, aren't you?"
"Are you talking to me?" her fiancé called from the en suite, his voice loud above the shower's low rumble.
"No," she replied, carefully settling herself down on the bed and indulging in some calming breaths. She heard the humming water die and Draco entered their bedroom with a towel low on his hips. She chewed her lower lip and eyed the forever enticing lines of his torso, decorated with welcoming droplets that made her thirsty. But another twinge in her stomach stole her lusty notions.
"Are you alright?" he questioned when she flinched, at her side in a heartbeat. "What is it?"
"Nothing," she told him steadily. "Someone's just a little restless tonight-
"I'm taking you to St. Mungo's-
"Don't be silly," she scolded, taking his hand and resting it against her lively bump. "See, everything's fine. She's just moving a lot-
"He's moving a lot," he argued, spreading his palm a little wider.
"We'll see," the witch grinned, giving his mouth a quick suck. "Can you pass me my notes please? Maybe that will distract me."
He rolled his eyes with agitation but complied anyway, knowing it was never wise to dispute a pregnant witch who could reach her wand. He supposed he was lucky. At least she was working on equality issues now, having resigned her Auror position; something he was infinitely grateful for. Now she happily flitted between her S.P.E.W work and her own offices that dealt with equal opportunities for Muggle-borns and Half-bloods. She had other projects too, and he often wondered how she managed to keep everything on track.
But she seemed happy, and that was good enough for him
He just wished she would take a break from her usual bookish character, but that was obviously too much to ask.
"Don't give me that look," she warned. "I don't want to fall behind-
"You're on maternity leave," he reminded her, resting his hand back against her stomach before he heard her sniff. He shifted his eyes to find her giving him one of her strange looks. Again. "What?"
"I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier," she mumbled, settling her palm over his knuckles. "It's just-
"The bloody hormones," he finished for her, smirking when her stomach vibrated again. "Yes, I know."
Ow, ow, ow, ow-
"Ow," she hissed, expelling a shuddering breath. "I'm not going to get much sleep tonight."
He frowned. "I'm leaving early in the morning," he told her evenly, but he knew she could see his unease.
"You're going to see him again." It wasn't a question. Not an accusation either. "It's been three years, Draco-
"I know you don't like it-
"I don't have to like it," she retorted quickly. "I just don't understand what you're trying to gain. He's answered most of your questions-
"It's not enough," he muttered bitterly, but his fingers moved to give her hard stomach a slow stoke. "This will be the last one. After he's born, I will never go back. I promise."
It seemed to satisfy her, as she graced him with a grateful smile. "Thank you," she breathed, and then gave his arm a playful slap. "But stop saying he."
"It's a boy," he affirmed. "I know it is."
"About the boy names," she said calmly, and he watched a rather serene expression grace her features. "How about Caelum?"
He tilted his head and contemplated her for a moment. "Is that a star?"
"It's a constellation actually," she corrected quickly, and he recognised that studious tone with a weary sigh. "Not a well-known one, I'll admit; but it's there. It's in the southern sky and I'm pretty sure it's by Pictor and Columba, although I could be-
"Granger," he cut in, giving her a dull look.
"Sorry," she nibbled her lip, giving him a hopeful look and covering his hand a bit more. "So, what do you think?"
"Caelum Malfoy," he tested, giving her round bump a thoughtful grin.
"You like it," she beamed at him, evidently enjoying her victory. "I can tell. So do we have our boy name?"
"I guess we do."
He hated leaving her when she was still sleeping, and the guilt followed him all the way to Azkaban. The baby had continued to restlessly squirm for the majority of the night, and while he had managed to steal a broken five hours sleep, he was pretty certain that she'd barely been resting an hour when he'd left.
"You look like shit," the familiar guard commented as he marched down the gloomy corridor.
"The kid's already giving us trouble with our sleeping patterns," Draco shrugged, stifling a yawn.
"I didn't know she'd had the baby-
"She hasn't," he frowned, shoving his hands into his pockets as the usual chill started to coil around him. "Is he already in there?"
"Yes, he's inside," the guard nodded, gesturing to the door with a bored expression. "Go ahead."
With a small bob of his blond head, Draco shouldered the door open and marched into the room to give the sole resident his custom scowl. Zabini barely lifted his head to acknowledge him, but then he could hardly do anything these days.
They'd stopped shackling him to the wall now. Instead, he was magically bound to a chair, although Draco had to wonder how necessary the restraints were.
The truth was, Blaise wasn't a harm to anything any more. Neither use nor ornament.
After years of constant and brutal beatings, Blaise's body had finally given up and stopped responding to healing spells. Both of his legs were paralysed; one infinitely cracked at an unnatural angle that Draco had caused himself. His arms were in a similar state, only able to move sluggishly, and one was wedged back awkwardly after his shoulder had been permanently dislocated. Again, by Draco.
The dark skin of his face was malformed with scattered scars and violent dents, and his black hair was crested with premature, grey flicks. He was frail from long periods of intentional starvation and sleep deprivation punishments, and one of his eyes had turned milky with blindness.
He was fractured. Broken. A demi-human whose body would never function properly again, and Draco knew the mind was just a string-snap away from dying too.
This was Draco's art. A Malfoy Masterpiece.
An odd conglomeration of pride, anger and disappointment always flooded him whenever he looked at it, and today would be the last time. For that reason, he allowed himself a few moments just to examine it, allowing reminiscent memories to mate with the relevant scars.
Blaise had bled the truth eventually. All the details had been noted and locked away with the case file. Blaise's involvement with the Vendetta Movement had been explored and the attacks in Europe had been dealt with. His business in the Quidditch Industry had allowed him to travel with relative ease, and it had sobered Draco to learn that even his connection to him had made things a little simpler.
That had been the reason for their pseudo-friendship. That had been the reason Blaise had kept him close with false loyalties. He'd even confessed to hopes that Draco would eventually be seduced by the old pureblood ideals.
"Do you remember the last time I came to visit?" he asked the condemned man slowly.
"Yes," came the wavering reply. "A few weeks ago."
It had been four months ago; a further indication of his diminishing psyche.
"Do you remember what happened?"
"You gave me this scar," he answered, moving his quaking hand to point at a large line across his cheek. "And this one-
"Do you remember what I told you?" Draco snapped out harshly; impatience crowning his features.
"About Granger's pregnancy?" he confirmed with a bored drawl. "Yes, I recall almost choking on my own vomit-
"Enough," the pale wizard frowned, dragging the tips of his fingers through his hair. "You should have learned not to wind me up by now-
"Well, the entertainment options in this place are a little lacking-
"It was four months," he interrupted. "I was last here four months ago."
A defeated and resigned look smothered Blaise's face; oddly enhanced by his mutilated flesh. He knew what was coming. He knew his sanity was splitting; melting like summer ice.
"Why do you still come here, Malfoy?" he asked steadily. "I have answered your questions-
"And the answers weren't satisfying," Draco scowled, inhaling a dousing breath. "I come here to watch the show."
"Get on with it then."
"Not today," he mumbled, shaking his head. "Not this time-
"And what exactly is so special about this time?" he questioned, an incessant spasm snapping his head to the side.
"It's the last," Draco said simply, studying the confused look that flashed across the prisoner's face. "I won't be back after today."
Panic mingled with the confusion, and for a moment Blaise looked like a forgotten child."Why?"
"Because I'm going to be a father," he stated, a warm flame flickering in his stomach as he said the words aloud. "And fathers don't torture people-
"Then that's all the more reason why I won't!" he spat, a threatening snarl playing with his lips. "I have done what I wanted to do to you. Fucking look at you! You are nothing! Your body has given up and your mind will follow shortly-
"This is who you are, Malfoy," the failing wizard said with some difficulty. "You can try to play happy families with Granger all you like but I am living proof that you have some evil left-
"Not evil," Draco disputed coldly. Adamantly. "I am fucking human. I have done what is necessary; what you deserve-
"And all for the love of a Mudblood," Blaise frowned, taking a long breath that made him wince.
Draco's nails cut into his palms as he considered giving the man the back of his hand. But no.
"You will never see me again," he promised coldly, and with a parting growl he left.
He would never know that his visits had provided Blaise with a sense of routine, and without that, he finally slipped into a mental state that was beyond the realms of help. And the guards ignored it and allowed his brain to shrivel and weep with hopeless insanity.
Draco went for a long walk before he went back to work; strolling an unfamiliar path just to ease the final sinister thoughts that always seemed to linger after a meeting with Zabini. That was one of the perks of being head of his department, plus Caleb was more than capable of holding the fort until he returned. He figured it was around ten in the morning now, meaning he'd only missed an hour anyway. If anything, it was normal.
And normality was a luxury.
While his job was far from dull as he still had to deal with plenty of dark wizards, and he had quickly settled into a life with an appropriate amount of excitement. A life that felt the closest thing to normal he would ever get.
Everything seemed normal at the Ministry as he walked the customary corridors and passed the usual faces. It was perhaps a little quieter than he'd expected but the patterns of the Ministry fluctuated like uneven tides, and that was part of the reason why he enjoyed working here. Stepping into his department, he frowned when he checked Caleb's office to find it empty. He was about to question some of his other staff about his whereabouts when his friend burst into the room looking like he'd just returned from a seven-day Quidditch match.
"Where-where the fuck have you been?" he panted wildly. "I've been looking for you everywhere!"
"What the bloody hell-
"Hermione's gone into labour."
Draco's lungs expanded and his knees threatened to give. He'd heard the words, but his brain was refusing to grasp them.
"Shit," he muttered, just as his limbs started to move again. Then he was sprinting. "Where-
"St Mungo's!" Caleb shouted ahead, his legs burning to keep up with Draco's adrenaline. "Amelia's with her-
"Fuck!" he yelled, shoving aside a rather weedy wizard as he stampeded towards the Floo Network. "She's two weeks early!"
"Are you honestly surprised that yours and Granger's first child is impatient?"
His friend couldn't help the sarcastic jibe as they finally caught sight of the fireplaces, but Draco barely heard him. His nerves and urgency were misting his senses to the point that nothing felt real. Not even close. Just an awful blur that swirled around him as he palmed the powder and screamed the hospital's name.
The green flames swallowed him whole.
He knew the way to the maternity wing. He'd been there when Shelly had been born. His legs carried him; his muscles scorching with his frantic pace. He caught sight of Amelia talking to a Mediwitch and he felt his chest blaze with dread when he saw the sombre look on their faces.
"Where is she?" he snapped with a shuddering breath.
Amelia gave him a long look. "Draco-
"Where the fuck is she?"
"Mr Malfoy," the other witch cut in, and he studied her with condescending eyes. "Miss Granger is inside-
"Let me see her!" he demanded. "Now!"
"I'm sorry but we can't-
"What the hell-
"Mr Malfoy," she breathed wearily. "We've had a couple of complications-
"Complications?" he echoed, glancing at Amelia, who gave him a sad nod.
"The baby has breached-
"You need to let me in there-
"But we have things under control-
"LET ME INTO THE FUCKING ROOM!"
"Mr Malfoy," the Mediwitch gave him a anxious but steady stare. "I need you to understand that the Healers can't have you inside-
"And I need you to understand that that's my fiancée in there!" he screamed, glaring down at the older witch. "She needs me right now-
"She's doing fine," the witch insisted, nervously tucking a greying hair behind her ear. "Everything is going well, but it's going to be a while. I'll come find you if anything changes."
Whatever he would have said simmered away on the surface of his tongue. Taking advantage of his silence, the Mediwitch fled from his sight and he was left alone with a severe sense of helplessness. He couldn't see her. Could do nothing to help her. And there were complications. Complications. He felt anger spark inside him, but it fizzled when a small hand tugged at his fingers.
He hadn't even realised Shelly had been with her mother.
She cocked her head and pouted her lips. "Smile," she said, a little clumsily with her youth.
He stared at the little girl for a moment before his eyes shifted to the married couple, both watching him with concern and uncertainty. He stumbled back and dropped into one of the waiting chairs, his face falling into his palms.
A thought clouded his mind, and he concentrated until his temple felt bruised, even though he had sworn to Hermione that he would never do this. He forced himself into his lover's mind and had a second to drown in her panic and fear before he felt her shove him away.
But her fear had scarred his brain.
I love you.
He had no idea if she'd received his mental message.
He knew all the rooms had silencing charms, but he would swear until the day he died that the vibrations of her screams reached him and goaded shivers to slither up his spine.
It had been nine hours. It was almost ten at night, and still nothing. Just left to wait and just fucking guess what was going on.
Potter, his Weasley wife and her infuriating brother had come along now. It had taken every last sigh of his control not to throttle her two useless friends, but he had managed to reign in his throbbing fists.
He hadn't left the chair.
He felt someone sit next to him and instantly knew it was his mother. She smelled of the Manor, and he offered her an agitated glimpse of acknowledgement. His ribcage was too heavy with lead to spare her anything more.
"You know," she mumbled, placing a maternal palm on his shoulder. "The same thing happened when you were born. You hadn't turned completely and you took twelve hours-
"So it's another curse of being a Malfoy?" he spat harshly, massaging the bridge of his nose.
"I'm trying to tell you that everything will be alright," she explained. "These things happen quite often-
"Just leave me be," he commanded, his tone low and foreboding.
He could see she was about to offer more words of hollow comforts so he shrugged away her hand and shot up from his seat. Stalking away from the small crowd that had started to gather, he let his feet usher him down the long and too-clean corridors until he shoved himself into an empty room and headed straight for the window.
He chucked it open and leaned heavily against the sill, allowing the November breeze to dash across his skin. Hermione had been right; their first born was going to be a Scorpio.
He eyed the night's sky and studied the stars; his brow creased with burdens of a parent that had yet to know their child. He stared at the obvious constellations. Orion. Cancer. Taurus. They were all so irrelevant now; like someone had simply spilled sugar across the backs of his lids. Or perhaps the chalk-dust that had yet to shift from the blackboard.
He glanced over his shoulder when he heard the door open. Good thing too, even though he wouldn't admit it. Isolation tended to scratch at his brain until it bled dangerous notions.
"Caleb," he called dryly. "You were always a nerdy prick-
"Which one is Lyra?" he questioned, gesturing his head towards the star-littered sky.
Caleb frowned but neared the window and searched for the familiar patterns. "Lyra's right next to yours," he muttered carefully, pointing his finger towards the night. "See that really bright star? That's Vega; it's Lyra's main star."
Draco's tormented stare lingered on that spot for a few moments before he released a frosty breath. "And where is Caelum?"
The other man stifled a groan. "Caelum's quite faint," he murmured, his eyes quickly shuffling across the hemispheres. "But it's there. See those two stars there? That's Eridanus, and Caelum is just underneath. Those four stars there."
"They are faint," he agreed, his lip twitching.
"She will be fine," Caleb stated in a tone that was deceptively confident. "And the baby."
It had been twelve hours now, and Draco found himself back in his seat, watching Shelly as she slumbered in her father's lap next to him. It was less claustrophobic now. The Potters and Weasleys had headed to the visitors' waiting room after Caleb had glared down the ginger growth and advised that they give Draco a little space.
He barely noticed when two Healers left Hermione's room, and the ageing Mediwitch was in his face again; this time with a promising smile that felt foreign amongst his negative thoughts.
"You can go and see them now," she told him. "Everything's fine."
He simply stared at her for a few heartbeats before his body was working on its own again. He wavered on clumsy and frenzied feet until he was in the room, and his apprehensive eyes immediately landed on her. He felt his insides knot and fold into a mess that hurt.
She was glittering with sweat; her breasts heaving in soothing waves as she sucked in the air with hungry gasps. She was flushed, with rosy stains glimmering across her skin, and her head lolled to the side, facing him. But here eyes were closed, and that stilled his steps. He didn't know why but he needed her to open them; to welcome and encourage him into the room.
And she did. They slowly fluttered open and smiled at him.
"Hey," she exhaled weakly, and he rushed to her side.
"Hey," he mumbled back, selfishly snatching her hand and clutching it tight. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I've been run over by the Hogwarts Express," she confessed, lazily running her fingers across his jawline. "Have you seen him yet?"
Draco blinked. "Him?" he repeated, his eyes rounding into pebble-grey circles. "He's a boy?"
"Yes, he is," she grinned, adjusting herself into a sitting position. "You were right."
"Where is he?"
"Right here," she said with a ghost of a laugh, his confused but anxious stare following her guiding hand.
He noticed the small crib on the other side of her bed then, and he moved on hesitant feet towards it. His breaths stalled as he peered into the makeshift cradle and eyed the pinky flesh and wispy crown of blond hair. His hair. Concealed securely in white fabric, he could only see his son's face and small fists as he fidgeted and made small whining noises; confirming that he was definitelyreal.
His newborn son.
"Bloody hell," he muttered, leaning a little closer. "This is weird."
"I know," he heard Hermione mumble, and he turned to catch her nibbling her lip with an excited glint in her gaze. "What's he doing?"
"Sleeping," he replied, looking back into the crib. "He's so fucking small-
"Effing small," he corrected quickly, lowering his eyebrows in thought as he moved a mindful finger out to brush over the baby's cheek.
"Well, he's a couple of weeks behind," she reminded him, stretching her back so she could see their child. "But he'll catch up. Bring him over here."
He shot her a sceptical look. "Am I okay to pick him up?"
"He's fine," she assured him. "Just mind his head."
Draco knew he was trembling a little, not trusting his hands to hold Caelum safely. His son's head easily fit into his palm as he concentrated solely on keeping his actions fluid and steady. He stayed still for a moment, just holding the light but significant weight before he gently eased his son into his fiancée's arms.
"I want another one," he rushed out, catching her eyes to show he was serious. "Maybe a couple more-
"What, like now?" she chuckled, tilting her head and beaming when Caelum slowly latched his miniature fist around her her small finger. He could honestly say she'd never looked more striking than she did right now. "I love you too by the way, even if you did use Legilimency on me-
"They wouldn't let me in-
"I know," she sighed, her smile, as always, forgiving. "Just...keep your promises in the future."
He knew she was talking about his visits to Blaise, and as his eyes absorbed his family, he knew that his one-time friend's name would never pass his lips again. Draco would erase him from his mind, until he was nothing more than the whispers of a memory that could never be reached.
"I love you," he told her sternly, feathering his fingers across the thin hairs on his son's head. He didn't tell her often; hardly ever in fact, but it seemed appropriate, and he wanted to make sure she knew before the hoard of well-wishers barged their way in.
"I know you do," she whispered, leaning up to indulge in a desperate kiss, that was quickly interrupted by a baby's sob.
He felt her smirk against his lips as Caelum Malfoy released his first healthy cries.
"You'd better get used to this."
a/n: Um...so yeah...that's it...bugger me...I hope it was okay...Feeling a little forlorn right now...
Hmmm...This is odd...Just over five months and it's finished. But this has been such a great experience for me and I just want to thank everyone who favourited and alerted, but mainly thank those of your who reviewed because you've just all been so lovely and I probably wouldn't have considered trying another Dramione without your positive feedback. So...yeah...You guys are angels! (Hope everyone got their wings, halos and harps okay!)
There have been several of you that have reviewed pretty much every chapter from the start and you people have earned sainthood in my little metaphorical and personal heaven!
Isolation will be up shortly. It's post HBP and it's going to be a rather dark fic that's going to mess with out favourite couple's heads a lot. I fancy a challenge so I'll be toying with Muggle-born-hating Draco...Imagine him confined to a room under the Order's demand with a certain witch as his only companion. I know it sounds familiar and perhaps a little cliché but I assure you it's not. Just take my word for it...
For the time being I'd just really love to know your opinions on the my story and the ending...I hope it was okay! Nerves...
Thank you so much for reading! And reviewing! It's been an absolute pleasure! Once again...there's just no wat to express how grateful I am for having such lovely reviews for my first Dramione...
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Disclaimer: Nope...don't own a thing
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