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The Art of Shadow Boxing	By : Tommy-Lane Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 11212 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any charactors from the books and I am not making any money off of this

Chapter List
- 19
- 20
- 21
                                                                                                               Chapter 20
                                                                                                  The Obstruction of Smoke

The ring is perfectly round. No indentation marring any of its curves from all the fingers it's rested upon previously, no nicks or scratches deflecting from the innate beauty surrounding it. The Malfoy crest is emblazed across its surface like a beacon, small and yet standing out completely, catching your eye the moment it's presented in front of you.
It used to adorn my finger day and night, since the moment my father bestowed it upon me. I remember the way it had slipped past the first than second knuckle to rest with a pressing, tingling weight before fitting snugly around my still small finger. It grew with me, like my father said it would, always fitting just right. I used to be so proud of it, a smug reminder to all my housemates just who I was and who they weren't - a well time fixing of my collar or brush of my hair, enough to remind any who sought to oppose me.
Amycus didn't remove it even when he stripped away everything else from me. Neither did Bellatrix. I'm not sure why, perhaps it was just another mockery, another knife to plunge deep in my heart - reminding me while I still had my sanity that not even my ancestors could save me.
It was the first thing I tore off when I had strength enough to lift my hand in the hospital. It had fallen from my grasp with a fuming anger, clanking against the sterile floor and rolling under the bed I couldn't move from.
I don't know why I crouched then slid under the standard hospital bed on my stomach to retrieve it before fleeing. I don't know why I had stared at it for a good long while, adorned in the loose white cotton shirt and trousers - the mark of patients from Healers - before a small noise in the hall made me jump back to myself. I had slipped it in the bag with the rest of my effects, ignoring the contrasting pull to burn it to ash and wear it once more.
It's lived in the box ever since.
I'm not looking at the ring between my fingers now though. I'm watching Harry.
He's frozen stiff, eyes widened and rounded behind his spectacles. I know he recognizes it, he used to play with it, twirling it around my finger as he laid against my chest. He told me once that he used to hate it, that is seemed so pompous and arrogant of me to flaunt it around, just like I flaunted my name - the two things interconnected. But just like I grew on him, so apparently did my ring. I think he liked it because it reminded him of me boiled down into a single object - something that was elegant and smooth and cold to the touch, something that only grew warm with repeated handling, something that only sparkled in just the right light and only if held in just the right way. He liked to find that spot, holding my hand up against the sun lit trees and angling it against the filtered rays till it shone its hidden brilliance.
He lets out a shuttering breath as his gaze flicks back to me for a second before he reaches out and touches the cool silver with a finger that's trembling in a twitching tap against the old family heirloom. "Why?" He asks quietly and I can almost see his brain back peddling to last night when I bound our hands together.
"It's been in my family for centuries, traveling down from generation to generation." I explain, watching as he stares at it with an enraptured focus. "Do you know anything about the magic surrounding the Pureblood lines?" I ask and he shakes his head. "It's complicated but in part we have these heirlooms that hold powerful protective magic in them. Like this ring. If I or any other Malfoy were to wear it, the protection woven inside it would merge with the wearer’s very essence. It creates a shield of sorts. It also can be transferred to another, linking them together in a sense..." I continue, taking his hand and slipping it on his finger as he bites into his lip.
When the silver settles around the base of his ring finger, I touch it lightly, letting the dusty near forgotten words well in my spirit and come spilling lightly from my lips - the ancient power sizzling in my blood and rushing outwards with a tingling, nauseating flow. It glows softly as Harry sucks in a sharp breath through his nose before returning to its usual dim shine - adjusting perfectly to the width of his finger.
"What did you do?" He traps the ring between his fingers, squeezing them tightly together like he can't quite think fast enough to follow where I'm going.
"I transferred its power to you." I explain as he twists the band around his finger, so much liked he used to do when it stilled graced my hand.
"But what does that mean?" His voice is still unnaturally quiet but with a slight edge of desperation to understand underlining it.
"It means that as long as you wear it, that the magic surrounding the Malfoy bloodline will protect you."
"Transferred..." He repeats, gazing at me with wide eyes. "Does that mean it's not over you anymore?"
"In a sense but Harry, I've long ago denounced its hold on me. It has a purpose again now and it's still connected to me, just loosely."
"But...how did you do it?" He demands, flexing his fingers over and over like he's trying to get used to the heaviness of the slim object and the weight of the power it holds.
It's my turn to bite the inside of my cheek as I look away from his questioning gaze, a flush rising up my neck. "I...named you as my heart."
"W-what?"
"My heart." I repeat, taking his hand in mine and studying the way the band looks against his tanned skin. A perfect contrast. "It's an old tradition." I explain with as little detail as I can.
"Okay." He says slowly, tugging a hand through his hair. "I don't get it...try explaining in simpler, he-didn't-grow-up-as-a-wizard, terminology."
"There's not much to explain." I sigh, which isn't exactly true but I'm not willing to go completely into it all with him. Maybe if I make it back, maybe if everything turns out good for once, maybe then... "I want you safe Harry, you are all that matters to me anymore, and you are in essence my heart. I just made it official and in return bestowed a level of protection over you that I couldn't have otherwise."
"Official? Did you just...?" He squeaks in a voice that sounds startled and supremely giddy at the same time. "Does this have to do with last night?"
I chuckle and lean forward to kiss him lightly, his lips seeking mine back out as I move to pull away, his arms locking around me as he plunders my mouth with a little moan. "You didn't just marry me without me knowing did you?" He asks after breaking away several long moments later, gasping in lungful’s of air as I come back down from the dizzy cloud he sent me in to find myself suddenly standing between his legs.
"Of course not, I'm not that underhanded." I mutter, conveniently leaving out the fact that all these things - the handfasting, the naming him as my heart, and giving him my families ring - are all elements in a Pureblood marriage ceremony. But I haven't connected them as they need to be in order to be binding. They are just symbolic, just for me to shore up in my heart to give me strength - to fight the evil I feel growing and expanding inside and around me with each passing moment - ever since seeing Bella in the Market.
He smiles at me with suspicious eyes. "You sure?" I can hear the teasing lit in his voice as he hooks his ankles around the back of my knees. "Because you seem to be doing a lot of strange and weirdly romantic things lately."
"I think last night could be described as more kinky than romantic." I supply, running my hands down his back and glancing briefly at the clock - times almost up.
He contemplates it with an exaggerated air for a moment before shrugging. "I think a little of both."
"I'll concede on that." I smile, kissing a line along his cheek and over to his ear. "I have to go soon."
"Where." I can hear his frown as he gasps, tilting his head back.
"I have to meet with Donnie." I tell him, feeling like utter rubbish as I do, the lie making my stomach twist painfully. But there's no way he'll let me go otherwise and I need to do this. Need to end this on my terms with no one else around to pay my price for me. "But you'll wear the ring right?" I ask, wanting to make sure that he's have an extra layer of protection in case something happens.
Protection against Safiya if she tries anything.
Protection from Bellatrix if she comes hunting for him.
But most importantly, protection from me, if either of them manage to snip the fragile line keeping me aloft from the darkness inside - because I feeling it pressing, clawing for freedom. More so than I have in years.
"Oh I get a choice now?" He chuckles, humming as I nibble on his ear.
"Of course you do but I hope you will." I cradle his face in my hands, watching his thoughts fight their way through his gaze.
He sighs and places the hand with my ring trapped on his finger over my own, leaning into my touch. "You're hiding something from me."
"Yes." I answer simply, letting my forehead drop to his.
"But there's no use trying to stop you is there?" He runs his thumb over my cheek and I nod. "You don't have to do this alone."
"I do." I retort.
"You'll come back?"
The kiss I place on his lips has him choking a bit on his own air leaving his lungs, like he's fighting with himself over something. "I'll come back." I whisper.

****

Granger isn't smiling but she's not frowning exactly either, her lips a thin almost puckered line like she's sucked on one to many lemons. Her arms are crossed over her small chest, drawing in a breath like there's an unpleasant aroma wafting nearby, her fingers tapping against her elbow.

"Where's Harry then?" She asks after a tense moment, our feet still separated by the threshold of her hotel room.

"My flat." I answer, pressing my hand against the outside of my trousers pocket, the outline of Harry's magic infused coin fitting into my palm. He had slipped it into my pocket as I had bade him goodbye, the look in his eye holding so much more than what his mouth spoke.

It's the same coin he gave me that first day he was back - the first time I had gone to Madame Safiya.

And he knows I'm not meeting Donnie, he knows I'm walking into foully, but he let me go - that in itself makes my heart swell to near bursting. Because Harry never lets loose the things he holds dear, he's too terrified to, which means...he gets it. If only a fraction but that little sliver is enough, enough for him to understand my need to see this through.

That's not to say that he won't come barging in if I don't return. God knows he won't sit still for long.

But his gift is time, showing his own love in this little measure of stepping where I may.

"I take it he doesn't know your here?" She lets her gaze slip over and around me, almost like she's expecting to see her black haired friend come running down the deserted hall.

"No, he doesn't."

She nods and sighs, motioning me inside after her with a fixed air of resignation. "Better come in." She calls over her shoulder as I follow her, the sparse yet clean hotel room barely registering in my peripheral vision. "You're here for the diagnosis?" Her intellectual glazed eyes glance briefly over to the shut bathroom door, the sound of running water muffling the otherwise silent expanse around us.

I nod, my fingers fiddling with the curve of the coin, a piece of him I can take with me - just as I left a piece of myself behind with him. "Have you found anything?"

Granger hesitates, my heart catching at the near invisible shift of muscles in her shoulders, in the way her head twitches just slightly to the left. "Possibly." She answers, walking over to the oval nightstand by the large bed that looks as stiff as a timber of wood.

"Elaborate." I grit out, trying to scrub out the storm of terrible outcomes trying to flood my thoughts. There's no use overreacting until all the facts are in...none...none...none - that lone word repeating on an endless loop for a small eternity while I wait for her lips to part and either reassure me or shatter my world.

She holds up a finger in an order of patience, bending to scoop up a thin stack of neatly lined papers. "There were some anomalies that he didn't have prior but...they’re not conducive to anything I've witnessed before. I sent the tests back to the Ministry and their looking into it in more detail but it looks like there may be something...the only issue is it's not something we've seen before or if we have it's been so long since the last reported case that it's buried in a sea of poorly organized data."

My jaw clenches as my fingers curl around his coin. "So you know nothing."

Granger clucks her tongue and shakes her head, staring down at the papers in her hand. "It's complicated."

"Isn't it always?" I ask, pressing my middle finger against the bridge of my nose, battling the headache forming.

"Do you get them often?" She queries suddenly, my eyes snapping back open at the softly voiced question.

"Get what often?"

"Headaches. I've noticed these past few days...you seem to get them a lot." She's studying me like I'm an exam placed before her, seeking the right questions before putting pen to paper and scribbling her answer in permanent ink. "It doesn't seem to just be stress." She continues, her tone studious, her step bringing her one inch closer. "Is it behind the eyes? Or further back? Ever see spots?"

I blink, my hand dropping to my side with a scowl on my face. "What are you going on about?"

"Your headaches obviously." She mutters, tucking a thick strand of hair behind her ear.

"We're not talking about me Granger." I remind her, feeling the pulse of a hammer behind my right eye.

"Harry's noticed them too you know...he's concerned." She presses on, ignoring my refusal to answer and the glare I'm fixing on her.

"Harry's always concerned." I mutter, pushing a hand through my hair and trying my best to ignore my throbbing head. Honestly I don't get them that often...do I? And really so what if I do? Headaches are the least of my concern, no doubt the pain just stemming from all the turmoil and stress despite what she seems to think.

"Draco-"

I flick an annoyed look her way, waving my hand in dismissal and a plea for silence. "Look I was wondering if you could do something for me?"

She purses her lips with a strong distaste for letting the subject drop but nods anyway. "Perhaps. What do you need?"

"The Malfoy vaults, are they still under my name or has the Ministry removed them?" I ask, watching the surprise and curiosity pull her eyebrows up, rounding her eyes even wider.

"I assume there still yours, as heir you'd have to pass before anyone else could touch them." She answers slowly. "Why?"

"They weren't confiscated after the war?"

She lets out a little laugh, shaking her head. "They wouldn't dare."

"I doubt that, surely they demanded recompense for all our sins?" I reply snidely, not liking her laugh or the amusement battling the puzzlement in her gaze.

"Oh they did from a lot of families but not from you." She smiles, dropping the forgotten papers on the bed, my gaze glancing briefly at them - frustrated beyond measure that they hold no real answer. "Not after awarding you with the Order of Merlin."

"They...what?" I look back up at her, near positive that I've heard her wrong, because who in their right mind would bestow such a reward on a Malfoy of all people?

"The Order of Merlin." She repeats, eyeing me carefully. "We all got one."

"Why the hell would they do that?" I snap, unsure why this is bothering me so much, the idea pressing against my headache in a little mockery. How ridiculously absurd.

She shrugs. "You did help us a lot Malfoy, you deserve it as much as we did...but even still I think it was mostly to appease Harry."

"Appease Harry?" I repeat, arching an eyebrow, not understanding how such a thing would satisfy him if he was upset about something. The man has been notoriously opposed to the public eye and useless awards for as I long as I can remember - even when he was a little boy.

She cocks a hip and flicks her hair over her shoulder. "Well, you were missing weren't you? He created quite the stink trying to get people to track you down when no one believed there was any point in it. The Ministry probably thought it might help him clam down a little when their pathetic excuse for a search turned up empty."

"And did it?" I ask sarcastically, already knowing the answer, my stance shouting my annoyance at the whole situation.

"Of course not." She says with a little smile. "You know Harry..."

I nod. "Indeed. So then all my accounts should still be full and in order?" I ask, trying not to think about what he went through looking for me that first time, because that thought can only lead to one place...a place I don't like going.

"Like I said, I would assume so. Why, suddenly wanting the Manor life again?"

"God no." I mutter, pulling a quickly written but carefully worded letter and a thick bronze key from my pocket - holding them out to her, her hand bouncing down under the unexpected weight as I drop them in her open palm. "I need you to make a withdrawal for me and then transfer it into euros."

She stares down at the objects I've just relinquished to her with a perplexed air. "Why?"

"I had a debt to mad woman." I explain. "I'm beginning to doubt my winning last night won't be enough to appease her, especially now that she's got a taste of my blood in a sense."

"So you're going to drain your accounts to pay her off?" She states carefully, trying to understand my logic completely before accepting my need of her help.

"I doubt I'll need to drain them but if it comes to it then yes, I will."

"But...why"

"I've lived this long without them Granger, I don't need the money." I reply, my hand sliding into my pocket to wrap around the coin fully.
It's true, I don't need the money and if I can use it too safely and painlessly pry myself away from this mess than I won't regret ever using it as such. It would be far better to be free of her grasp, to know that Donnie and Caleb won't pay any price for my own misdeeds than to live in riches again.

And really, if for some miracle she lets me go without demanding anything else, I doubt I'll ever touch the vaults again anyway.

"But surely there's an easier way." She staring at me like she can't believe her ears, like the very notion of me offering up my inheritance is utterly absurd, like I've lost my mental stability and am making rash decisions that I'll one day hate myself for - her gaze so utterly unbelieving that all I can do in the face of it is shrug. "Alright...so after you level your debt in her eyes, what are you going to do? Are you and Harry coming home?"

Ah, that's the question isn't it? The one that we keep avoiding even in our time of isolation. "I don't know." I answer honestly.

"But you won't stay will you?"

"Time will tell Granger." I drawl, glancing down and grasping the coin tight. I don't rightly know where I'll end up because at the moment my only hope is that I'll end up with Harry. That even with all the wrongs and signs pointing to the opposite, that is all I desperately want to happen. And perhaps if it does, than maybe I could return to England, maybe having Harry by my side will make it bearable.

Or maybe it will only drive me mad and pull out the thick tar of evil inside that threatens my very existence.

She stares silently at me for a long moment before nodding in acceptance. "How do we go about this then?"

I let out a breath of relief and send her a quick, tight smile. "Just start the process, I'll contact you with the amount once it's settled."

She clutches the letter and key to her chest, a debate forming on the tip of her tongue before she's swallowing it with a quick shake of her head. "You're going to her now?" I nod and she lets her eyes slip shut for just a blink longer than normal. "And Harry doesn't know?"

"I would appreciate it if it stayed that way."

"One of these days, you two are going to have to face up to your issues." She says softly, hinting at the fact that she knows there's more beneath the surface of my skin that I'm showing - the notion terrifying.

It's easier to pretend I'm okay when the damage is hidden away.

****

She keeps me waiting.

There's a dampness in the air all around me, like a thick mildew, heavy on the tongue and tactile through the nostrils. It reminds me of a potions lab on a hot day, when you've been toiling for long hours and days to get it just right, the sweat on your forehead a kind of reward as you glance into the cauldron and see the fruits of your labor.

But this isn't a potions lab in the heart of Hogwarts with Professor Snape calmly calculating beside me and the air is all wrong - like a bad omen.

"She'll see you now."

My knees feel like creaking as I stand stiffly, eagerly vacating the plush seat and following the back of her nameless employee. I count the steps it takes to make it up the winding staircase, measure my strides down the long, thin hall. I breathe in the air that feels like an invading pathogen and breathe out with an external push all around me - a practiced skill that settles the thrumming in my veins.
This will all be over soon and unlike this hall there isn't only a single door at the crest, there's multiples - all identical in size and color and promise but only one with the future I desire.

The end of the walkway brings a pause as a tall, trim body guard steps up to me, running a long, round metal detector over my body with a firmly set scowl. It blinks its green light and he grunts, disappointment on his face. What did he expect? That I'd come packing and try to gun her down?

Honestly.

When the door swings open, I have to blink through the sudden haze, the air even denser inside the smaller room. It smells of rose petals and liquorish, a near translucent smoke curling through the nearly empty space, dancing towards the ceiling and pooling in the corners. The warm air settles around me like a coarse wool blanket, it's fibers a stabbing presences.

"Isn't this a surprise. A bit early for the party, aren't we darling?" Madame Safiya speaks through the haze and my gaze shifts and focuses on her. She's sitting on a low ivory couch, the table before her holding a large smoldering bowl - the crystals and mix of spices inside glowing and fuming. There's a long stick in her hand, the end of it resting in the red glass bowl, the tip moving through the burning mixture with a slow twist of her wrist. It sputters and sparks, a waft of smoke and scent driving into the air.

She looks different. There's no makeup accenting her striking features, somehow the lack of black coal lining her eyes making the unnatural blue stand out too vividly. Her long curling raven hair is pulled into a high ponytail at the back of her head, taunt against her scalp. But most shocking of all is her dress, normally sultry but tasteful and always classy, but now she's wearing little more than a negligee. The fabric is nearly sheer, shimmering red layers draped over each other, pulled and tied tight at her waist with a thick black, velvet ribbon. The neck droops low, scooping over the swell of her breasts, a small thick silver chain dangling around her collar and dipping beneath the fabric that seems to move like water around her. The dress tappers off at her thighs, a pair of black boots that run over her knees exposing just a few inches of creamy white skin.

"I won't be attending." I reply, doing my best to keep my wits about me as the thick air pries at my focus and seeps through me with a sluggishness that sparks an alarm in the back of my brain. "I'm here to pay my respects."

She leans the stirring stick against the edge of the glass and drops it from her fingers with a tilt of her head. "Your respects? Come now dear, that sounds like a farewell."

"It is."

"Ah, I see." Safiya crosses her long legs and places her hands in her lap. "Love conquers all, is that it?"

The smoke pricks at my senses and I blink rapidly, shoving a hand in my pocket as casually as I can. "A bit dramatic, more like I'm tired of playing."

"Drama is the flare of life Mr. Evans, without it we wither and die."

"I think I'll survive."

She smiles icily. "So you wish to part ways then?" I nod and she curls a finger through the flow of her hair. "And what makes you think I'm inclined to agree?"

This is it, the moment of truth - the moment I find out if she's going to hold to our bargain or try and keep me twined around her finger for as long as she finds me useful and entertaining. "We had a deal. I met your requirements and now I'm through."

"So taciturn." She fakes a shiver, her bare shoulders twitching in the low light, the perfumed cloud casting an eerie glow to the little action. "Tell me darling, just what do you plan on doing with yourself then, you don't honestly believe you'll be able to quit the fight do you?"

"Sometimes it's best to walk away." I answer carefully.

"Is it? And where will you be walking to then?" She leans forward with interest in her eyes, her exhale almost tangible in the dense room.

"Away." I don't rise to her bait, trying to let her see my confidence in my decision.

"I remember a man who convinced me with few but elegant words that this world was his blood. What happened to him?" She contemplates me, challenging me with flinging my own words back at me.

There's a quaking down my spine that sinks my feet in the floor, the air starting to choke me on every little inhale. "Doesn't matter. I won, you got your money, my debt is paid." I answer stiffly because it's true. It doesn't matter, not right now. Yes the ring gives me hope, it steadies me, and lights my blood with vigor, but...some things are worth changing for.

"Now see that's the point where we disagree." She picks the stick back up, thrusting it into the smoldering mess, sending a shower of sparks and such a wave of densely scented smoke that it nearly knocks me off my feet - my hand reaching out automatically to grasp the back of the nearest chair to keep me steady as I feel the ground shift beneath me. "You dear, are like a speck of gold. I found you amidst the rubble, exposed the precious vein and shined it to life. The thing about gold is once some is found there's bound to be more and like any good miner, I won't rest until the cave has been pillaged, stripped down until there's nothing left to harvest."

I narrow my eyes and catch myself breathing deeply before I can stop myself, desperate for clean air but only filling my lungs more full of the smoke that's turning putrid inside me. "Money speaks then?" I ask, trying not wobble, my knuckles paling and turning to white ice on the back of the chair - shadows shifting on the back wall with a snap and twist and bend.

"Doesn't it always." She grins with a well-placed shrug.

"Then what's the price?"

"One you can't hope to pay." She brushes a finger over her brow and only then do I realize that I'm sweating, a thick sheen on my skin, running and spreading with each passing moment. The heats pooling in the base of my skull and flowing outward, the drum in my head picking up its tempo and sparking behind my eyes.

Something's off, something is terribly, terribly off.

"Try me."

"All of it" She rises to her feet, the straightening of her legs and spine like a skipping film with frames missing, one minute she's sitting, the next she's two steps closer.

"A-all o' wha?" I ask, shaking my head with a quick jerk as my words come out with a small but pronounced slur that has her smiling again.

"I find it intriguing. Your name that is, Mr. Evans." She says suddenly, emphasizing my name sharply while tapping the stick against the bowl that sends up another wave of sickeningly sweet perfume and smoke.

"Why's s'hat?" I ask, feeling the ground jerk violently, my vision swimming a bit before focusing on her looming face once more. She no longer looks beautiful, she looks frightening - her smile too bright, too twisted, too...knowing.

"Did you know you were sowing your lot in with Mr. Potter when you chose it? Or is the other way around?"

"Pottrerr?" I gasp for air, spots of black forming in the corners of my vision and I blink and blink and blink - trying to displace them, only to have them grow and multiply. There's a small unhindered portion in the back of my mind that's telling me to run, to get out as fast as I possibly can, but I can't move. I'm rooted to the spot, my entire body lacing with shuddering pain, everything slowing inside me - my heart, my lungs, my pumping blood, even my thoughts - running with the speed of molasses.

It's horribly, terrifyingly familiar.

"Was it on purpose?" She plows on, standing so close now I can feel her hot breath on my face but I can't move back from it, can't escape her piercing gaze. "Or was it plain foolishness, sentimentality binding your heart?" She pauses, studying me, perhaps waiting for a reply but I can't speak, my tongue a thick, hot, weight glued to the roof of my mouth and trapping the poisonous air in my lungs. "Foolishness it seems indeed."

All I can do it stare wide eyed at her, my eyes pulled and pried and stuck open, my mind trying desperately to catch up and understand. There's a loud creaking from behind me, a new shift of feet, a mumbled new voice that's seeping into me but not penetrating. Then a pressure on my back, a pain spreading straight through my gut and with a jerk I catch the slightest glimpse of long auburn hair before Safiya's grasping my arm - her sharp nails dipping into my boiling skin, keeping me from falling.

"Tell me Draco can you feel it? Can you feel it coming?" She grins with eyes of blue flame, her hissed words ringing in my ears second before it all goes black.

A/N: Gasp! Love/hate cliffhangers right?
MoonlightVampiress: Well how can anyone refuse a platter of Drarry cuteness (and an epic long review!). Stupid life, always getting in the way of our fanfiction, although so excited you posted a new chapter and am heading over as soon as I can find a spare moment! I like to think that Harry told Ginny off when he came back to find a passed out Draco but alas we don’t get to see it because it’s all from our favorites slytherin’s viewpoint ;( And well, can you really blame Harry for being perpetually horny? He’s been pining for seven years and well…it’s draco…so yeah. Lol. Yes, the darkness is still there and everything will get steadily clearer as we go, poor guy. As you saw in this chapter, Safiya (or S.B.C as you’ve dubbed her hehe) is more than she seems, like you always knew. So much going to be revealed soon and let’s just say it was good thing he gave Harry his ring! Thanks for reviewing!
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The Art of Shadow Boxing