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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
- 34
- 35
- 36
CHAPTER 35

SHAMELESS

“This is my skeleton; this is the skin it’s in, that is, according to light and gravity.”

When Hermione finally went to bed, she opted to bunk with Isobel, despite their earlier animosity. She needed someone close to her and Isobel was the next best thing aside from Ron or Draco, neither of which were an option. So it was with a great deal of reluctance that she had grudgingly asked if Isobel would share her bed that night. The younger girl had looked relieved and agreed instantaneously. The rest of the tovarasi and Ron were to sleep on the conjured bunks that now covered her lounge and bedroom floors.

They did not talk as they usually would have after they’d snuggled down under the covers. Hermione was too tired. But she appreciated the warmth.

The next morning, Hermione was wide awake by ten as she was simply unable to make herself sleep anymore. She knew that five and a half hours was almost too little to work with but the moment her eyes opened, her mind began racing again.

There was not much dialogue between the tired tovarasi that morning and it was with minimal conversation and only a rudimentary amount of planning that Hermione, Ron and Draco left the flat to go to the Forest of Dean, soon to be followed by the rest of their comrades and the group of Aurors.

Hermione could feel her blood singing with an anticipatory determination as the three of them walked purposefully down the crowded street of Diagon Alley towards the Leaky Cauldron. It was a familiar feeling by then, the need to get the task over and done with, to bring Harry back to safety, to stay alive, to prevent another war. It was like greeting an old friend.

The previous night’s conversation with Draco was still playing on loop in the back of her mind and it was while she walked that she spent time trying to decide what she thought of it.

Ultimately she’d meant what she’d said. Of course, her fiery anger with him had dissipated slightly over the intervening days, but she still felt the sting of his betrayal as if it were fresh.

And that was the thing. He may not have realised it, but the previous night she’d given him another chance. She’d told him she thought she did not have his loyalty and he had failed the test when he had not tried to tell her she did. He’d not attempted to deny any of the things she’d said and that led her to believe that he did truly have no allegiance. Really, she was fine with that in peace time, he didn’t need his allegiance then, and she didn’t need his loyalty. But when her life was in danger, when the lives of all her friends were threatened, his loyalty was vital.

She couldn’t be with someone who could turn the other cheek when there was the possibility she might get hurt. Maybe some women could do that, maybe some of them could stay with men like that, but she couldn’t. She knew her flaws, could acknowledge her stubbornness and her quick temper, she wasn’t perfect, but that didn’t mean she needed disrespect herself. Surely she deserved better than that? Surely she could do better than spending the rest of her life with a man who could drop her like a used napkin when his own life was threatened… What if they had children? Would they be expected to die to protect their father? The thought made her feel sick.

None of that changed her feelings though. She still missed him, even though he was walking beside her. She still wished she’d never seen the memory and that they could go back to the way they were. But had that been all that good really? She stopped to consider for a moment that yes, of course it seemed better than the predicament she was in now, but all the same, she hadn’t exactly been happy. And partly that had been her fault, she’d been withdrawing further and further into herself as the weeks had dragged on; but it had also been Draco. She recalled then, with pain, the feeling of him no longer finding her interesting enough to care about her sadness. When they’d first gotten together, she was something new, something outside of him that he could study and appreciate. But then, as they’d gotten used to each other, there had been that uncomfortable realisation that things were essentially exactly the same. They’d both felt it and they’d both reacted to it.

She wasn’t going to shame herself or him, neither one of them deserved the blame for the disintegration of their relationship. Not even considering Draco’s betrayal. Ultimately, he hadn’t really betrayed her; he’d betrayed himself, which was somehow worse. She’d thought he was stronger than that.

She sighed as the three of them reached the Leaky Cauldron. It was all so messy. Hermione reached out both her hands for the two boys to take. Once they did, she apparated them away.

The contrast between the sludgy greys of Diagon Alley and the greens and browns of the Forest of Dean was somewhat startling. It was a place that was distantly familiar to her as she’d apparated them straight into the clearing that had been used as their campsite all that time ago. She could almost see Perkins’ shabby canvas tent sitting up on the rise to her left.

Instantly, the three of them dropped to the ground, crouching in the scrub and looking about themselves. Hermione felt a tap on the top of her head and turned just in time to see Draco cast a disillusionment charm on her before moving on to Ron. She nodded gratefully before she remembered he could no longer see her. Instead, she touched his knee briefly to communicate her gratitude. He stiffened a little at the contact.

“So how do we do this?” asked Ron’s disembodied voice quietly.

“I think I might have to take the potion, honestly. I don’t see Homenum Revelio working too well out in the open…” she whispered in reply, groping for her beaded bag which was slung over her shoulder.

Neither Ron nor Draco responded to this as Hermione produced one of the tiny vials of the Zeitei Otrava and uncorked it.

“Are you sure it will work if I’m not taking it too?” whispered Draco.

“I guess we’ll have to find out.” she replied, shrugging. She tipped the contents of the vial down her throat. Instantly, the colour bled out of the world. “Yep. It works.”

“Well let’s go then.” said Ron and she heard the crunch of grass as she stood up.

“Wait. It takes a moment to kick in.” Draco whispered.

Hermione sat for a moment, staring around at the bleak, grey landscape, waiting for the colour she’d become so familiar with to bloom in her vision.

Just as she expected, the light and colour burst into being in front of her. But no matter how familiar she was with it, the sight still made her gasp. Hermione took a few minutes to allow her eyes to adjust as she looked around. The low hanging green mist she was used to was not there, as they were not on a Dividing Line, but there seemed to be a soft glow emanating from the forest, pulsing like a heartbeat. It brought into sharp relief the fact that the environment was alive. It was beautiful.

She cast her eyes across to Ron and Draco who, she was not surprised to discover, were no longer invisible. It was as if the soft blues of their auras penetrated the Disillusionment charms and made them ineffective. Strangely, the strand that hung between her and Draco was still there, though it looked almost tattered, faded and she was shocked to see that there was a strand that connected her and Ron as well, one that looked just as damaged as her and Draco’s. She had to wonder what had them connected like that; was it the physical relationship she’d shared with both men? The love? The vulnerability? But before her mind got too buried in these thoughts, she pushed them away; there were more pressing things to worry about.

“Alright. Let’s go.” she said, and stood. “You two walk and I’ll follow. I can see you both so it will make it easier.”

Draco and Ron both stood and strode out of the scrub in which they had all been taking refuge. Hermione felt uncomfortably exposed out in the open even though she was hidden by the Disillusionment charm.

As Draco moved ahead of her, Hermione saw occasional flashes of yellow moving across his back and she remembered his charmed cloak. She’d never asked him about it.

The thought was driven from her mind though as the two boys began to push through the forest and Hermione was forced to correct them when they set off in opposite directions. Eventually she insisted that they each hold on to separate ends of a scarf that she produced from her beaded bag so that they would not move too far away from one another.

For a long time, the trio walked in silence aside from the crunching twigs under their feet. They were not heading in any particular direction, but just ambling through the trees in the hope that they might stumble across something. Hermione’s head was constantly whipping this way and that, looking for any sign of magic but she found nothing. They were alone.

She found it hard not to get caught up in the brilliance of the forest under the influence of the Zeitei Otrava. It felt like she was walking through a dream, something that was both unexplainably natural but also so beautiful it could not possibly be of this earth.

It felt wrong, but Hermione could not help but allow herself to smile as she looked around at the forest. She could have stayed in that place forever.

But slowly, she began to notice the glowing of the trees was fading. She hadn’t been paying attention to the time and the hour was almost up.

“Hold on.” she said to the other two and they both wheeled around, staring in her general direction with alarm, clearly assuming that she’d seen something. “It’s alright, I just… The potion is wearing off.”

“So take more.” said Ron simply, “He’s here somewhere, we can’t quit now.”

“But Bastet’s Line doesn’t say anything about double dosing.” said Draco, sounding anxious.

Hermione frowned, “I don’t see any harm in it…” she said uncertainly. If she was honest with herself, she just didn’t want the experience to stop, didn't want to leave behind the beauty of the forest for the rain soaked Diagon Alley and her dull flat.

Before either Draco or Ron could protest, and before her mind could conjure more reasons not to take a second dose, she withdrew another vial from her bag, uncorked it and threw the contents down her throat.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, suddenly, nothing continued to happen.

“It's alright.” she said with a relieved sigh as the colour sharpened again as if she’d only freshly taken the potion, “I feel fine.”

She began to walk towards the two boys, slightly ahead of her, stumbled and then fell face first into the leaves that littered the forest floor. Her heart hammered around inside her chest cavity as her vision blanked out totally, leaving her blind. Something was burning through her entire body, tearing its way through every fleshy muscle and pulsating vein. Her bones felt like they were contorting in on themselves, she could almost hear them snapping.

“Hermione?!” cried Ron and she could hear his footsteps thudding around where her body lay. She could not speak, her mouth opened but no breath or words came out. “HERMIONE! Where is she?! Malfoy! Reverse the Disillusionment charms!!!”

“I can’t unless I touch her, you moron!” snapped Draco in response and she could hear his distress.

They continued to bite at each other until their voices and thumping footsteps droned out into fuzz. All Hermione could see was blackness, all she could hear was white noise. And her other senses were beginning to fade too. The taste of that morning’s tea in her mouth was turning to ash. The feeling of the hard ground under her body was falling away, as if she was floating. And the smell of the leaf litter was dulling.

She was surely dying. What she was experiencing was obviously her body shutting down… But then why did she feel so awake? So alive?

Suddenly, painfully, something collided with her body and all of those senses came rushing back one by one. But they were more terrifying, more potent than she’d ever experienced them.

“I’ve found her!” cried Draco’s voice and not only could she hear his every breath as if it was right in her ear but she could also, quite literally, hear his emotions. They were so beyond complex, so much more than simple words like ‘sad’ or ‘angry’ that her mind could find no way to articulate any of it. They were a confusing mass of fire and ice and all that pain… It overwhelmed her.

She felt the magic of the Disillusionment charm hanging over her body lift and finally, she found she could open her eyes. Both Draco and Ron were standing over her, but their faces were closer than they should have been and she could tell that they were no longer hidden by the charms Draco had cast earlier. She was able to see all of the intricate patterns of magic glowing underneath their skin, almost like cave carvings, every inch of their faces looked like the most beautiful canvas of abstract expressionism.

“Hermione.” said Ron, slowly and fearfully, “Why are you floating?”

His emotions hit here just as Draco’s had, but they were far more potent, more ordered. There was something about Draco’s feeling that was so chaotic, like he kept them so balled up that they writhed and seethed around under the surface like live snakes, whereas Ron wasn’t like that. His were all there for her to see, open, honest, affectionate. And see them she did in that moment. She felt his fear, his panic, could see his mind on the very brink of despair at seeing her in danger. But there was something soft and tepid about his feelings, something that reached out to her and wove around her psyche, keeping it warm.

Her examination of his thoughts was cut off when she suddenly became aware then of the lack of ground underneath her, of the air moving around her entire body.

She was lying in thin air.

“It’s alright.” she said calmly, a total juxtaposition of how she was feeling inside, and her voice seemed to reverberate through the forest, each tree trunk, leaf and blade of glass acting like a natural amplifier. She knew the other two could hear it too as they looked around wildly, trying to find the source of the echoes.

Hermione took a deep breath and closed her eyes again. Her heart felt like it was about to burst out of her chest and her panic was barely containable. But she knew she needed to calm herself. She needed to find her balance.

Without really thinking about it, Hermione slowly righted her body and stood, her feet planted firmly on the air. She looked around at the forest, smelling every single scent, hearing every sound, within what felt like three kilometre radius. It all devastated her, overcame her. But she kept a hold of her calm, realising deep down inside herself, that she was in the midst of experiencing a greater power perhaps than any witch or wizard had yet to cultivate. She did not want to taint it with alarm and panic.

She opened her mouth and breathed deeply. She could taste the water, the earth, Ron and Draco. The air was tangible on her tongue. It was real.

Draco was all spices and parchment, his smell looked like him, looked like his blonde hair and grey eyes. She almost found the lingering scent of his cologne on his cloak offensive. It didn’t fit with him. It was too harsh.

Ron was earthy, like leaves and dirt. She liked his scent better; it was more pure than Draco’s, less tainted by the artificial. He smelt like tea and basil.

The wind blew into her face as she was exploring each man’s scent while she hung there, and every nerve responded to the caress. But she had to frown as a new smell assaulted her senses. It was distant, carried by the breeze from the northern edge of the forest, sort of half formed. It was the scent and taste of a certain kind of foulness, of decay and madness and suddenly, she knew. She knew which way to go. She knew where they could find Harry.

Hermione looked down at the two boys who were staring up at her with a mixture of reverential awe and fear. “Follow me. I know where he is.” she said determinedly, her voice echoing through the trees.

Without waiting for a response, she walked through the air as surely as she would walk on the ground. The low hanging leaves of the trees brushed over her head and each touch felt like a caress. She could see the same pulsating veins of life and magic surging through every living thing around her, each branch, each leaf. When she looked down at the forest floor, the glow that emanated from it almost blinded her. The tendrils moved there too, but they were thicker, brighter and more powerful. She had to resist the urge to sink down and drive her fingers into the earth just so she might connect with the luminosity. But she couldn’t. A part of her rational mind was still operating and it told her to use this new power to find the evil in this forest. To eradicate it.

And in that moment, she trusted herself entirely. She believed in herself. She didn’t know where this surety was coming from but is surged her forward. It was instinct.

They moved together for some time, Hermione’s nose leading them north. The boys trudged after her noisily, occasionally throwing questions at her which she did not answer. Her mind was too focused. Why could they not just trust her as she trusted herself? Why must they always know all the answers?

As she got closer, the scent of Harry’s madness became more and more potent, making her stomach churn sickeningly. She hated the smell. But rather than being filled with fear over the coming confrontation, she was angered by it, angered by his presence, angry that he was tainting this beautiful place with his malice.

Eventually, they came upon a clearing and she held out her hand to stop the two boys following her.

In the centre, stood Harry, wand out, staring around himself in panic. She could tell that he’d been there for some time; there was no tent but there was a fire and various possessions lying around on the grass. He was surrounded by countless protective enchantments that meant that Ron and Draco could not see him. But Hermione did. He would have been better off hiding up a tree. He could not use magic to hide from her anymore.

Hermione reached out her hands once they had come upon the barriers he had put up. In one violent movement, she drove her nails into the thick enchantments and tore them apart like a sheet. They screamed at her attack and disintegrated.

“You felt me didn’t you, Riddle?” said Hermione, her voice booming around the clearing, bouncing off the trees terrifyingly.

Harry rounded on her, alarm contorting his features. He looked wild, panicked. “What magic is this?!”

“My magic.” snarled Hermione.

His eyes flicked over her body, lingered on the air beneath her feet, moved across Ron, landed on Draco and his face contorted grotesquely with rage.

She knew what was about to happen even before it did, could see and feel the malevolent magic building in his aura, focusing in on his wand arm. She could feel his fury and instantly understood. Draco was one of the Death Eaters. Of the three of them, the Death Eater turned good would be the one he would most like to see dead.

Harry voice screeched the killing curse and what looked to Hermione like thick, ugly green vines shot out of his wand, writhed in the air and headed straight at Draco’s chest. He did not even have time to dive out of the way.

But just as it was about to connect, just as it was about to snuff out Draco’s life, Hermione held out a hand and felt the spell burn into her palm. The hideous green tendrils flew into her skin and disappeared.

Ron and Draco cried out in anguish but Hermione knew they had nothing to worry about, that there was no danger. She didn’t know how and she would never be able to explain it afterwards, but she knew.

Her skin absorbed the killing curse and changed it, disintegrated its evil. The spell rebounded back at Harry, the tendrils now an angry purple, not imbibed with hatred as it usually was, but with love. Pure love.

It was too fast, he was not able to block it, was not able to dodge it and Hermione felt a fierce and raging satisfaction when it exploded onto Harry’s chest and the colour absorbed into his body. He doubled over, his wand falling to the ground. He pitched forward onto his hands and knees and retched. His vomit was red with blood.

A little flash of sorrow cut through Hermione’s determination at seeing Harry in so much pain. She wanted to comfort him. Without really thinking, her emotions reached out across the distance between them and nudged at his mind. She poured all of her empathy, all of her love and how much she missed him into the connection. But it did not work as she thought it might. Harry howled in pain and clawed at his head as if trying to dislodge her. She pulled away immediately, struck and alarmed by the ugliness that was unfolding in front of her.

His pain seemed to lessen slightly once she’d severed the connection and, slowly, Harry looked up at Hermione, straight into her eyes and she saw him. The eyes were green like they always were; they looked at her like they knew her. She realised then that she was seeing Harry, her friend, not Voldemort, her enemy.

“Hermione…” he sobbed, “Help.”

And he was gone. The crack of his disapparation echoed through the clearing.

Hermione felt joy burst through her heart as determined, happy tears flooded her eyes.

He was still there, underneath Voldemort’s evil. She was not too late. She could still save him.

And there was the hope. She felt hope.

Without really thinking, Hermione willed herself to sink back to the ground, between Ron and Draco. Their voices were clamouring in her ears harshly, asking questions, making demands, admonishing her for scaring him off… But Hermione wasn’t listening. Suddenly, she was very tired. A mist was descending on her mind and, she reflected with a detached sort of calm, her senses were beginning to blink out of existence again.

“It’s alright,” she said sleepily as she felt her hip connect with the forest floor and she folded her arms under her head to act as a makeshift pillow. “The piece of soul is wounded. I wounded it. Voldemort’s hold weakens… Harry will live.”

And then, much to their consternation, she slept.

Hermione woke when what looked like soft dawn light was filtering lazily through the cracks in her curtains. She was conscious of being in her own bed, though had no memory of how she’d gotten there. She could feel the heat of Isobel pressed into her back, could see through the dimness, Padma and Eli intertwined and asleep in the bunk beside her and hear Juliet’s soft snores from the other side of the bed.

It took her a moment to recall what had passed in the forest but when she did, she knew it was an experience beyond even her to describe. She had both been entirely herself but also entirely not. It made her head hurt to think about it but she couldn’t get the images, the tastes, the scents, the sounds out of her mind.

Hermione knew then that she was changed by it. She was different to what she had been before.

For one hour, she’d felt like she was truly a goddess. And that idea made her weep a little as she pressed her face into her pillow.

It must have been very early in the morning and she began to wonder how long she’d been asleep for. Her clothes were changed and clean but her stomach was growling angrily at being so empty.

Slowly, through her contemplation, she became aware of another sound then, drifting in to her from the lounge room. It wasn’t so much shouting as snarling and hissing. Like two people were fighting but trying to be quiet about it.

Hermione lifted her head a little so that she might hear better. After a moment, a thought began to drift up through the recesses of her sleep fogged mind. The thought said that those voices sounded like Draco and Ron.

She sat up instantly, her mind whirring back into action just as she heard Luna’s muffled voice say, “What’s going on?”

Hermione threw back the covers and leapt out of bed, banging her shin painfully on Padma and Eli’s bunk, waking the couple up. As she made towards the door, Isobel and Juliet were stirring and sitting up, staring at her sleepily.

“Hermione?!” asked Isobel in drowsy shock, “What are you doing?”

She rounded the corner of the bed and, once in the lounge room, she understood the voices. Ron and Draco were standing just beside her front door glaring at each other. Luna was sitting up on the couch staring around owlishly and Susan was just beginning to stir. Blaise on the other hand was snoring obscenely into his pillow, seemingly unaffected by what was happening.

“What the hell are you two doing?” Hermione demanded, her voice rasping against her throat.

“Hermione!” said Draco in shock.

Ron turned to look at her too, the expression on his face much the same as Draco’s. They both looked guilty and concerned for waking her up.

Padma appeared at her side, clad in nothing but one of Eli’s tee-shirts. “Are you alright, Hermione?”

Hermione nodded, baffled, “Yes… Why?”

“Well…” said Isobel as she walked into the lounge room, “Draco and Ron brought you back passed out yesterday talking like you’d turned into some sort of all powerful goddess, said you’d seen Harry, done something to his soul and then you slept all day and all night… Forgive us for being a little worried…”

“Oh… Well, I feel fine.” Hermione replied, shrugging. She turned back to Ron and Draco, “So what’s all this about?”

“I just caught this slimy bastard trying to sneak out.” Ron growled forebodingly.

“I was not sneaking out!” Draco retorted.

Ron snorted, “Oh yeah? What were you doing then?!”

Draco sighed condescendingly, “Hermione, control your ape.”

“That’s rich coming from you, ferret!” snarled Ron.

Hermione lifted a hand to run over her forehead. The absolute childishness she was witnessing in the two of them was astounding. This is what she’d been woken up for? After everything that had happened the previous day? She was supposed to referee a virtual cat fight between two grown men?

“I’m not dealing with this.” she said simply, turning around to go back into the bedroom. “I feel like I haven’t eaten in three days and my head is pounding. Can’t you put this pathetic rivalry aside for two seconds?! If Draco says he wasn’t sneaking out, then I believe him.”

“Fine.” growled Ron, “What were you doing then, Malfoy?” he demanded.

Draco looked at Hermione unabashedly and said smugly, “I was actually coming in to see you. Thought you might like some company.”

Ron’s scowl vanished instantly and Hermione felt her stomach churn. She wanted to hit him but before she could fully entertain the thought, someone was already doing it for her.

Draco gave a howl of pain as Ron’s fist connected with his face.

“Ron! What are you doing?!” she squealed, rushing forwards.

It took her, Luna and Eli to pry Ron away from Draco’s hunched form.

“Wasgoinon?” grunted Blaise from the floor.

Hermione was surprise to see Draco laughing sarcastically through his bloody nose and was momentarily taken aback by how well he was handling the fact that he’d just been punched in the face.

“That is so like you, Weasley. And you wonder why I call you an ape?” said Draco condescendingly, still wearing his superior grin.

Ron’s face was burning red as he retorted, cradling his bruised fist in his hand, “I’d rather be an ape than whatever you are, Malfoy.”

“Oh, yes I’m sure you would!” retorted Draco cruelly, “It’s so much easier being an unsophisticated cretin isn’t it? Not that you really have all that much choice in the matter. Who is it you take after, Weasley? You’re failure of a father or your lunatic mother?”

The silence crashed down over the room like an iron grate. Ron did not move.

“Oh, Draco…” said Hermione sadly. She could not begin to contemplate the disappointment she was feeling in that moment, couldn’t articulate how much Draco’s words had wounded her respect for him, not that she had that much left.

Ron took a deep breath and stared back at Draco head on. “Thank you. Thank you for proving that I am the better man.”

And with that, he turned and swept past her and into the bedroom. The sound of the bathroom door crashing closed echoed through the flat.

No one spoke. Draco stared around at the rest of the tovarasi defiantly.

Surprisingly, it was Blaise who broke the silence.

“Hermione?” he said, and the tone of his voice sent a shiver down her spine. It was quiet. Terrified. “Where is Ginny?”

“What?” she responded slowly.

“Ginny… She’s not here.” said Blaise and Hermione could see the panic building in his eyes.

Luna suddenly leapt off the couch and pounced on the bunk that Ginny and Blaise had been sharing, her hands scrambling through the possessions that littered one side. “All her things are still here… Except her wand.”

“No…” said Susan slowly from over near the balcony door, “Her wand is here.” she was pointing at the floor at her feet where the thin stick of wood lay on the floorboards.

The ten of them stared at it, dumbfounded, shocked.

The balcony door was slightly ajar.

Aranel - Haha, I love this sort of social commentary thing you do with your reviews. I can almost picture you watching the story like a movie, eating popcorn and hollering at the screen every time something happens! "OH NO HE DIDN'T GRRRRRRL!!!" Yep. This is my perception of you. Lol.

Oishiinam - Wow! You caught up quick! Thanks! I can't really respond to much else without giving too much away but have faith! All will work out in the end... Sort of. *evil grin*

tabitoo - I hear that. Honestly, if it were me in her position, Draco would be nothing more than a black smudge on the ceiling and a pile of teeth haha. But anyway....

Anon123 - Aw! I'm so glad I got you to review! I love first time reviewers, makes me feel so special :D Thank you so much.

Kain - FUCKING HELL!!! You're reviews always have me giggling incessantly! STOP IT! Or so help me I will find you and hug you until you suffocate like a three year old with a kitten!!

I'm glad you're liking Hermione at the moment lol, cause it seems not many people do! I think she's showing a huge amount of self respect here, something that most eighteen year old girls don't know much about... But I also kind of agree about Draco. His fear is most certainy understandable, not that that makes his inaction ok. As for Ron... I think he's just really focused at the moment, probably too much so to really give a shit about the kind of teenage melodrama that's happening around him, you know? This is why I'm liking him so much at the moment. He feels like the most adult one of all of them. I mean, he pushed aside his feelings over Hermione fucking Draco fucking Malfoy in order to save Harry?! Man's got some balls.

Green_Eyed_Mist - Ah! Don't fail school! Now I feel bad haha. Thanks for the lovely review, sweety :D

lisha - Sorry babe, haha, Draco's writing himself at the moment!!

Bella - Aw! Thank you so much! I love you too!!

DeliriousMuse - Oh how I adore you. Your reviews, though sporadic, are always amazing. And HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! I'm singing right now... Even though you can't hear me hehe. Loved the song too. xox

Trista - Hehe your first line made me laugh! Aside from that, the remainder of your review left me speechless. I woke up this morning to it and I had to just lie there in bed for a little while to absorb it. Thank you so much. Really. From the bottom of my heart. Thank you. xoxox

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