Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Victim of the Fall	By : PrettyDesdemona Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 32726 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 7
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any of its characters. I do not make any money off this story. Only love!

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
CHAPTER 12

COMING UP

“I, on my darkened threshold, am pawing through my pockets.”

Hermione woke to soft voices singing through her head, drawing her from her dreams. The familiar smell of Teodora’s classroom flooded through her comfortingly as she inhaled. She lay with her eyes closed, holding onto the blissful obliviousness of sleep for as long as she could before her mind naturally joined with reality and she was forced to remember her horrible weekend.

She was vaguely aware of lying on the floor on some sort of pallet, her head was no longer on a Ginny’s lap, but on a pillow. Her tovarasi were somewhere behind her, talking in low, quiet voices. It soothed her. She couldn’t make out what they were saying but their conversation didn’t sound tense, it sounded familiar. The noise of the rest of the castle didn’t seem to reach the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, the air hung still and temperate, blanketed by silence aside from the hushed voices of her classmates.

She opened her eyes and there he was. Malfoy. Asleep. Beside her.

At first, she wanted to get up and put as much distance between them as possible but something stopped her. She was too tired for her grudge just then. The room was too quiet for her hatred. He wasn’t doing her any harm by sleeping next to her; they weren’t touching at all, a foot of space lay between them. He even had his own pallet. But they were still facing each other, curled slightly on their sides, and that felt intimate. His breath was on her face while she slept and hers was on his.

Her eyes fluttered closed a few times, as if she was still lulling in and out of consciousness, but she didn’t want to go back to sleep. She wanted to watch Malfoy sleep. Something about him was moving something in her, shifting it ever so slightly. It was the most human she’d ever seen him, and that wasn’t his fault. She’d just refused to see it before then. She still disliked him, but right then, she saw him for what he was. A person, who slept and ate and laughed and had skin and hair. He had a scent and a scar on his right hand that she could see as it curled under his chin. His was a face that was so familiar to her, so commonplace, because she’d seen at it almost every day for seven years. But she’d never really looked, properly, objectively, unemotionally. She’d looked at him and seen Malfoy, the character of him, never just a human face.

He’d never been human before. When had that happened? He had been a creature in his own right. Someone outside of her compassion, outside of her ethics. None of the laws of her morality applied to him. She offered him even less empathy and forgiveness than she offered herself, and that wasn’t very much at all.

She wondered, sleepily, if perhaps she should apply them to him. Then would he look different? What would it make him? Not a heartless monster who tortured people and watched as people were tortured, but a human being who felt his soul fray at the edges every time he lifted his wand on another person, a human being consumed with hatred and sadness and incomprehensible, catastrophic fear as he watched others being hurt.

Hermione liked to think that once upon a time, she had been able to see the best in people, to always give them the benefit of the doubt. Unfortunately Dumbledore had robbed her of that. But maybe she could find it again if she looked…

Malfoy’s eyelids flickered and, slowly, his eyes opened to find her staring at him. She didn’t balk at his gaze, but looked into his eyes, unabashedly. He said nothing and did not move. She was grateful for this. She was busy applying her morals to him. She realised it was easy once she’d actually tried. She wasn’t extending her forgiveness to him, not yet, but she could empathise a little. She would never make the sorts of choices he’d made, she’d have let Voldemort kill her before she took his mark. But then, she wasn’t Malfoy and she didn’t really know what being him felt like. Would she have sworn her allegiance to Voldemort if he would spare the lives of her parents? Yes, probably. And there was the crux. Would she torture people, kill people, force them to do things against their will to protect Harry or Ron or Ginny? She probably would. And that’s just what he’d done. Wasn’t it?

Unless of course, he was just a heartless monster who enjoyed inflicting torture on those he considered lesser beings. There was that.

But which one was it? She could probably give a passionate argument for both sides. He’d made that pretty speech at the start of term and it had sounded genuine, but it had stood against seven years of bullying and abuse. He had ordered her not to call herself a mudblood, but he had also been sarcastic and condescending with her ever since. Zabini had said that he thought Malfoy had changed, but then, when had they ever been really close? Teodora trusted him, but Hermione didn’t. Tricky. Very tricky.

“Why were you staring at me before?” Hermione whispered after a few moments, because silently lying together and staring into each other’s eyes was beginning to feel strange.

“Why are you staring at me now?” he whispered back. Touché.

“I’ll answer if you do.”

He nodded slightly. “Alright. You first.”

“I’ve just realised you’re a person.” she breathed.

“Oh, well spotted.” the words were sarcastic but his face was free of that hard meanness she was used to seeing in him when he looked at her.

Hermione actively chose not to be offended, something that she probably should have been doing for seven years. Maybe this was him, sarcastic and deprecating. Maybe this was his sense of humour, and if it was, it was very close to hers. She could laugh at his sardonic comments, or she could be offended by them. Right then, she decided to do neither and simply said, “Your go.”

He frowned at her, the same look that he had worn when they had stood in the circle with the tovarasi. “You have to mean them. Unforgivables.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly. “Oh, well spotted.”

“I mean, they don't work if you don’t mean them. You cast the cruciatus curse on yourself and it worked. You meant it.” he whispered.

Hermione frowned and shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“That’s… pain. I don’t know. I guess I kind of just realised you’re a person too.”

They stared at each other in silence, sizing each other up. Yes. It felt like things were changing. Hermione didn’t know if she liked it.

“We’re not friends.” said Hermione abruptly.

Malfoy shook his head, as if this was obvious.

“But I guess I should thank you for doing what you did.”

“Yeah, I think you probably should.”

There it was again. Humour or childish entitlement? Which was it?

Hermione chose to ignore it again. “I’m not quite there though. Just wanted to let you know that gratitude is manifesting. Don’t consider yourself thanked just yet.”

Malfoy smiled and laughed quietly. “Fair enough.” he whispered.

Hermione rolled onto her back and sat up. The conversation needed to end. She was in way over her head. She did not know even a little how to deal with Malfoy and all the possible manifestations of his personality.

Sure enough, the rest of the group was seated in a ramshackle circle at the other end of the room. As she approached, their faces were a mix of comforting smiles, concerned frowns and relief. She slumped on the floor between Ginny and Isobel with a sigh. Ginny took her hand and held it, wordlessly.

After a moment, Malfoy joined them.

“Are you alright?” Padma asked him immediately.

He shrugged and nodded.

“I’m sorry I didn’t examine you before, I just got caught up in the…” she stopped, as if searching for a word.

“Drama?” Hermione offered with a smile. The group laughed.

“What’s wrong with him?” asked Isobel.

“Casting Unforgivables can be… Damaging. And on top of that he used the Legillimens spell. I don’t know what he saw in Hermione’s mind, but whatever it was, put up quite a fight. Enough of one to sap all his energy anyway. I just want to check that there’s no further damage.”

Hermione blanched. What had he seen in her mind? Did he now know all her secrets? Her deepest desires, her fears, her pain? She’d forgotten that he’d used Legillimens. But he’d been in her head alright, she remembered the feeling all too well now. His presence filtering into every corner of her psyche, soothing every burning synapse so tenderly, so kindly. It was enough to make her feel sick. But what must he feel? He’d been the one touching her like that, he’d been the one putting in the action. Did she feel violated? Strangely, no. Did feel confused? Oh, yes.

“Could you lie down please?” asked Padma, pushing a pillow towards Malfoy.

“What? No, Padma, I’m fine.” he waved a dismissive hand at his would-be healer.

Padma smiled indulgently. “Yes, I’m sure you are, but you weren’t an hour ago. Lie down please.” she said bossily.

Malfoy lay down on his back, looking disgruntled. Padma hovered over him, her eyes closed, as her lips moved soundlessly. Her wand glowed with a iridescent blue light that Hermione could only see out of the corner of her eye.

“You ok?” asked Ginny quietly so only Hermione could hear.

“Yeah, I needed that sleep. But can you explain to me why I woke up next to Malfoy?”

Ginny shrugged, “He fell asleep not long after you, he was pretty beat after what he did... We were talking and didn’t want to wake you guys. Not that we could have if we tried.” she grinned, “You were both out cold, didn’t even move when we levitated you onto the pallets.”

“Has Teodora come by?” asked Hermione.

“Yeah she came and had lunch with us. Talked to Padma a bit about what to look for when she gave Draco the look over… Seemed to find you and Draco quite adorable actually.” Ginny grinned cheekily.

Hermione batted her arm playfully. “Shut up! It’s not like it was a consensual sleeping arrangement!”

Padma gave Malfoy the all clear and he sat up, stretching. “I hope dinner gets here soon. I’m starving.”

“How exactly would you function without House Elves, Malfoy?” asked Hermione at an attempt at humour. She realised too late that it actually sounded for harsher than she meant it.

He rolled his eyes. “Get off your high horse Granger, if we were allowed to leave the room, I’d go down to the kitchens myself.”

Hermione’s bristled and her face burned, the little speech she’d given to herself earlier, completely gone from her mind. All she could think of was how he’d so casually put her down in front of the entire group. “Oh naturally. You’d have to get used to that now that there’s no more care packages from mummy.”

She regretted it as soon as she’d said it. Her statement was met by gasps and looks of shock from the rest of the group. Malfoy stared at her with open hatred.

“Hermione! What’s wrong with you?” Ginny said in a hushed voice.

What was wrong with her? Where had that even come from? After all her cool rationality minutes ago, she’d somehow shoved him straight back into the non-morality category in her mind.

“That was a comment worthy of the Dark Lord.” said Isobel nastily.

Hermione dipped her head, far more than embarrassed. Humiliated, mortified and ashamed were a little closer to accurate. She knew she should say sorry. But the words would not come.

“No Granger, there are no more care packages. Thanks to you, my mother is serving a five year sentence in Azkaban.” he shook his head wearily and stood up. “Well, this has been lovely, but I’m going back to my dormitory.”

Hermione balked and stood too, as he walked towards the door. “Wait. What do you mean thanks to me?” she asked, cutting across the protests from her classmates.

He rounded on her, his face showing cold fury, “What? Didn’t Potter tell you? She saved his life! She lied to the Dark Lord! No one lies to the Dark Lord and lives! But she did! She was going to get a pardon, just for that. Because her actions changed the course of the war, didn’t they? Oh, my father was always destined for Azkaban, yes, but my mother was going to be set free! Then, because of an anonymous testimony given at her trial, she was charged and found guilty of being an accomplice to torture. Your torture!”

“I didn’t…” Hermione stuttered. Did he think she’d provided the anonymous testimony? Because she hadn’t, she hadn’t even thought of it. She’d been nowhere near the Malfoy family trials. She’d been too busy pining over Ron and feeling sorry for herself.

Malfoy continued to rage. “No of course you didn’t! You very clearly don’t realise it but you built this world, Granger! You and Potter and Weasley! Yes, the Dark Lord tore apart families but so did you! And you think you’re so above offering those left behind sympathy. So above acknowledging the consequences! All you can do is dole out judgment like sweets!” his fist thudded on his chest. “I won’t see my own mother for five fucking years!” he threw his hands in the air and laughed harshly, “You know what? Teodora wants honesty, well her it is. Here is the deepest secret nobody knows, here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud. I don’t hate muggleborns, Granger, oh no. I hate you.”

Hermione stood in his gaze like a deer in headlights. She couldn’t accurately describe what she felt for Malfoy in that moment, but it wasn’t hatred. It was something closer to remorse, something closer to sympathy. Something closer to guilt.

“I’m sorry.” she said quietly, wishing she could offer more than just the word.

He laughed cruelly, “You’re sorry? Now?! Be sorry before you judge people! And then don’t do it! Saying sorry isn’t just a spell you can cast on someone to make them forgive you! I will always hate you, Granger, and there is nothing you can say that will change that!”

With that, he turned and strode out of the classroom. The crack of the door slamming behind him echoed harshly through the room.

Hermione felt the gazes of her tovarasi on her back. Her eyes glazed with tears. She had never been so ashamed. And Malfoy, of all people, was the one who’d shamed her. She couldn’t bring herself to turn around and face the group. She couldn’t bear to see the truth of what Malfoy had said in their eyes.

She needed to go home. Needed to be away from her classmate’s judgment. She walked towards the classroom door and stepped through it, taking care to close it calmly behind her.

Hermione began to walk down the corridor, sniffling uncontrollably, intent on reaching the Hogwarts gates where she could apparate home and be away from everything she’d left behind in that room.

Her steps faltered as Teodora rounded the corner in front of her.

“Hermione? What –”

“I don’t have to change who I am for a stupid class!” she sobbed and clapped her hands over her mouth. Teodora looked like Hermione had hit her.

“What has happened, Hermione?” she asked, shocked.

She held out her arms as if to comfort or placate her student, but Hermione just shook her head vigorously, her hands still clamped over her mouth and ran past Teodora.

She did not stop until she had passed the wards surrounding Hogwarts. With a whimper, she apparated to Diagon Alley.

Embarrassment followed her all that afternoon. It tugged on her sleeves every time she stopped a moment to comprehend it. Her faced burned red every time she thought about her words, to Teodora and Malfoy. How could she have been so thoroughly childish? It was a side of her she had not been confronted with for a very long time. Not since she was, well, a child.

Hermione decided the best way to deal with it was to pretend it never happened. It was future Hermione’s problem. She occupied herself by doing her washing, reading her mail and cleaning up the sick she’d left beside her couch that morning. She paused every now and then to groan and put a hand to her forehead as her words ran through her head again.

At seven o’clock she was startled by a knock at her door. She prayed that it was not Teodora or one of her classmates, even though she knew that Blaise and Ginny were the only two who knew where she lived. She opened it to find her landlord standing on the landing.

“Sorry to interrupt your evening Miss Granger but a woman dropped this off for you. Said she was one your professors.”

He handed Hermione a vial containing a bright blue potion and she wanted to go to the nearest wall and smash her head against it repeatedly.

Instead she plastered a smile on her face and stood aside, gesturing for Mr Flourish to enter.

“Would you like to stay for a cup of tea, sir?”

He smiled warmly and stepped over the threshold. “I can never say no to a cuppa!”

She went to her kitchen and fixed them both tea, tucking a tin of biscuits under her arm as an afterthought. She returned to the lounge room to find him perusing her bookshelf.

“Here you are, Mr Flourish.” she set the tea and biscuits down on her coffee table.

“Enough of that Mr Flourish business, call me Graham.” he joined her on her couch and lifted his tea to drink. “You’ve got quite a collection there!”

“Yeah!” she said, nodding distractedly.

“When you start work, you can make good use of the staff discount and fill up those lower shelves, eh?” he said, smiling.

Hermione shook herself. If she was going to entertain her guest, she’d have to actually speak at some point. She turned to him properly and smiled again.

“That reminds me, when did you want me to start?” she asked.

“How does next weekend sound?”

“Oh, that sounds perfect.” Hermione grinned, she was looking forward to working in the bookshop. She couldn’t imagine any bad feeling ever reaching her in such an environment. She popped off the lid of the tin of biscuits and offered it to her landlord who took one and munched on it appreciatively. They drank their tea in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Hermione was struck with a thought.

“Graham, there was something I was meaning to ask you.”

“Mmf?” he grunted through a mouthful of biscuit.

“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea here, because a lot of the other people I’ve asked have had a rather negative reaction…” she laughed nervously, “When I moved in, you told me this flat fell on a Dividing Line. I wanted to research it a little, just out of curiosity, but I can’t find any reference to them in any book in the Hogwarts library. I was wondering if you knew anything, or could point me in the right direction of some literature on the subject?”

Graham laughed. “Well I can understand people not responding well when you asked them, most are suspicious, like I said. Think it’s dark magic, see? But when you’ve worked with books as long as I have, you learn things. I’d be happy to tell you what I know, though it’s not much. Like you said, texts on the Dividing Line are fearful scarce.”

Hermione’s heart fluttered excitedly, as it did when she finally felt like she was getting to the bottom of a mystery.

Graham stared at the ceiling for a moment, as if ordering his thoughts. “Now, I wouldn’t call them harmless by no means. In the wrong hands, the information can be dangerous. But I know you well enough and I don’t think you’d put the knowledge to bad use.

“They say that the Dividing Line enhances a wizards power, makes him stronger, makes his magic more accurate, see? But it’s more than that. There are many spells and potions that can only be used and brewed on the Line. Lot’s of stuff to do with the wizards perception of the world. It changes the mind, they say, flips it on its axis.

“Now in terms of books on the subject, I don’t sell any. But there are some places you can find them. Not very reputable establishments mind you but… You’ll find them there.”

Hermione had a feeling Graham was trying to tell her something and she knew exactly what he meant. Knockturn Alley.

Hermione skipped out on school the following two days, something she had never done once in her entire educational career. But the embarrassment she felt when she thought of what she’d said to Teodora and what she’d said to Malfoy kept her away. And then, the embarrassment she felt at being too much of a coward to face them, and the rest of her tovarasi, solidified her desire to stay away from the castle. She had no idea how to deal with the situation aside from ditching her pride altogether and apologising, which she found scarier than anything. Her pride felt like the only piece of her that she had left to hold onto.

On Tuesday, Graham delivered another dose of her Rusine potion saying that the ‘pretty Weasley girl’ had delivered it. She felt both saddened and grateful that Ginny hadn’t tried to come up to her flat to see her.

Again, he stayed for an hour or so to have tea with her and Hermione was appreciative of the conversation. She found the time spent with her landlord largely educational and enjoyable. He was forever telling her to read certain books and researched certain topics, but the only one that she was interested in were the Dividing Lines. She soon found, after more questioning, that the well of information he provided on the subject was dried up.

It was this, and the desire to stop herself sitting in her flat with her face in her hands groaning, that made her decide to venture down Knockturn Alley in search of a book that might help her. So, on Wednesday afternoon, she donned a heavy black cloak with a large hood and stepped out into Diagon Alley. As she walked down the busy street, she pulled the hood up to hide her face. She didn’t want anyone to see her venturing into Diagon Alley’s seedier counterpart.

Hermione came to the intersection between the two streets and slipped around the corner, into the darkness that hung over Knockturn Alley like a blanket. The air was stuffy and smelt of perfume, tobacco and firewhisky. The difference between the bright, airy sunlight of Diagon and this dank, shadowy place was remarkable. She almost turned back, feeling instantly claustrophobic, but she reminded herself of the information that lay in wait in front of her and pushed on. She was surprised by how crowded it was, wizards pressed in on her from all sides and whorish women stood in doorways leering at the passersby. One grabbed Hermione’s wrist as she passed.

“Interested in shopping round the corner, darling?” the woman crooned.

She was just a little taller than Hermione with black hair and sultry, slightly slanted eyes. Hermione shook her head and laughed nervously, trying to dislodge her arm from the woman’s grip but she seemed disinclined to let go before Hermione heard her pitch. Someone brushed past Hermione roughly and her hood fell back, exposing her face. The woman gasped and a look of glee crossed her features.

“Oh, I know you! You’re Hermione Granger!” she smiled beatifically, “I bet that pretty boyfriend of yours can’t eat you like I can. What do you say?”

Hermione cringed at the woman’s crude language but decided to make the best of the situation. “What’s your name?”

“Desdemona.” said the woman, her grin widening.

“Well, Desdemona, if I ever decide to… ‘shop around the corner’, I swear I will come straight to you, but right now, I really need to find a bookshop. Can you point me in the right direction? Please?”

The woman opened her mouth to answer but before she could, a hand closed around Hermione’s upper arm and yanked her away. Whoever it was appeared to be much stronger than Hermione, as her struggles did nothing. She was dragged into a dark alcove off the street and pressed up against a wall. Her stomach churned with fear. Her attacker wore a hooded cloak not unlike her own and towered over her menacingly.

“What in the fuck are you doing here, Granger?!” a voice hissed from under the hood.

“Malfoy?!” she gasped.

“Yes! What are you doing here?! Do you have a death wish?!” he pushed his hood back slightly so she could see his face. He looked livid.

“No, I…” she stuttered.

“After everything we did for you the other day, are you trying to get yourself killed? What is wrong with you?!”

He didn’t give Hermione an opportunity to answer. He yanked her hood back up over her face and pushed her out of the alcove, turning left to go back towards Diagon Alley.

“Wait! Malfoy! What are you doing?” she tried to stop but he grabbed a hold of her wrist and pulled her behind him.

“Saving your life, again!” he hissed. “Now for the love of god, be quiet!”

“I thought you hated me!” she ground out as he continued to pull her through the crowded street.

“Doesn’t mean I want find your mangled corpse rotting in the gutter!”

“Wait! Malfoy! Let go of me!”

Hermione dug her heels in and twisted her wrist free of his grip. He was forced to stop as she rubbed at the sore skin. He reeled around to face her, looking furious.

“Granger.” he said, leaning very close so she could hear him over the noise of the crowd. “When your bespectacled friend killed the Dark Lord, his followers and sympathisers were left with nowhere to go, no corner of the world where their way of life would be accepted. No corner except this one. You fought beside Potter, they know that, and I can guarantee you, ninety nine percent of the people in this street would love to see your head on a pike.”

“What are you? The one percent?” asked Hermione sardonically.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and made to continue dragging her but she yanked her arm out of his grip again.

“I am not leaving until I find a bookshop. You can accept that or not. I don’t care.” she crossed her arms defiantly.

“Are you really going to let your obsessive need for knowing everything get you killed?!”

“Yes.” Hermione deadpanned.

Malfoy glared at her. “What book do you need?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“I’m not entirely sure yet. Which is why I am going to a bookshop.”

Malfoy looked at her disbelievingly. “I should just let them kill you.”

“I’ve been trying to do some research.”

He rolled his eyes. “Shocker.”

“And I can’t find anything in Flourish and Blotts or the Hogwarts library. I heard from… an acquaintance… that I might find a book on it down here.”

Malfoy sighed resignedly. “And what exactly are you researching?”

“Dividing Lines.”

He blinked. “I’m sorry I may have misheard you there Granger, did you say Dividing Lines?”

Hermione nodded.

“Trying to supplant the Dark Lord are we?”

Hermione rolled her eyes and huffed. “I’m just curious, ok?”

“Naturally. Look, the manor’s library has a book that’ll help with your mission for world domination. But I will only bring it to you if you allow me to escort you out of this death trap and promise never to come down here again, alright?”

Hermione nodded fervently. “Alright, I promise.”

Malfoy placed a hand on the small of her back and steered her out of Knockturn Alley.

She pushed her hood off her face, blinking in the sunlight, as he did the same. In Knockturn Alley, a hood might be commonplace, but in Diagon Alley it was treated as suspicious. “Why aren’t you in school by the way?” she asked.

“Avoiding you, funnily enough.” he growled.

He walked with her in silence towards the Leaky Cauldron. He looked confused when she stopped at Flourish and Blotts.

“What are you doing?”

“Going home.” she said.

Malfoy gave her a look that made her feel like an idiot. “You can’t apparate out of Diagon Alley.”

“I know that, Malfoy, I live in Diagon Alley.” she tried to imitate his look, getting the distinct felling that she was failing miserably.

He looked confused. “What? I thought you lived with Weasley?”

“No. I live up there.” she pointed to the balcony over Flourish and Blotts.

She wasn’t going to invite him up, though the thought crossed her mind for a moment. He was staring up at her flat, frowning, and she wondered if he expected her to. The words were almost on the tip of her tongue when his head snapped back to look at her.

“Fair enough. Well I’ll see you tomorrow.” he began to walk away but turned back after a few steps, “Oh and Granger?”

“Yes?” she said, her hand on the door to the shop.

“Fuck you.”

She stared at him in shock before he turned on his heeled and strode away. She watched his retreating back for a moment, then laughed as she walked into Flourish and Blotts. She decided there and then, that for every snarky, sardonic thing Malfoy said to her in the future, he would receive a laugh in return.

A/N Just a little footnote, Draco's line of "here is the deepest secret no one knows, here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud" is from a poem by E. E. Cummings called I Carry Your Heart With Me. Please go and read it!

Also, collectively, I'd like to thank all of my reviewers for posting such amazingly supportive and loving reviews about the last chapter. You all said you teared up reading it? Well I cried when I read your reviews! Thank you all so very much. Sending love and light to you all!

aranel - Honestly, I'm interested to see how she'll let Draco in too! After her childishness in this chapter, it's a wonder how it will ever happen huh? Lol.

deathraven - Oh, I plan to make him work for it! She'll be working for it too it seems haha. I'm so glad you liked the class scene. It was so touching, I teared up writing it! Thanks for pointing out the grammatical errors. I wasn't surprised they were they really, I was so caught up and in the moment when I wrote that chapter that I was typing like a lunatic! Hopefully, I will have time to go back and change them but I'm more focused on giving you guys more chapters!

Kain - Yes Ron would most certainly flip the fuck out if he saw her treating Draco like that huh? I actually had her calling him 'Malfoy' originally but then I remembered that he and Hermione are the only ones really butting against the tovarasi concept, you know? No, it felt better having her call him Draco.

And yes, consider the seeds sown! Though most certainly not growing yet haha.

You've been very patient, I hope you liked this chapter!

dh_reader - I know what you mean. I didn't like writing her so weak, and it was the same for this chapter. I hated writing her so childish, you know? It just ground at me! But then, I stick by what I was saying at the beginning! We're all going to hate Hermione a few times in the course of this story. And quite rightly, I think. She's being a fucking bitch lol.

I hope this chapter answered some of your questions, though rest assured, we will going back there later!

I'm sorry for not clarifying Teodora's Romanian heritiage. I guess, it was so set in my mind that I never felt the need the clarify. I'll go back and add a sentence somewhere in the earlier chapters when I have the time.

Thanks for the love!

EvaBrick - Oh wow! Thank you so much! That review was so lovely! I went all gushy when I read it haha. I really hope that you like the rest of the story!

Odrade - Yes the first chapters are quite depressing aren't they? I put myself in a pretty yucky place writing them. But I'm glad you liked it none the less! You can't receive notifications on this website, but you can over on fan fiction dot net. This story is there too :)

SMS04 - Don't worry, you couldn't stop me writing this story even if you tried. Thanks for the beautiful review :)

Tori - Wow, what a beautiful poem! It certainly captures the essence of what the characters are feeling! And what a beautiful review, as always. Thank you so much! xx

The quote at the beginning of this chapter is from Ani Difranco's song Coming Up. Her music has served as a huge inspiration for this piece. I own nothing. Thanks Ani!
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Victim of the Fall