Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

For The Sake Of A Name	By : Bickymonster Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 52498 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any concepts or characters associated with it. I am not making any money from this this story.

Chapter List
- 38
- 39
- 40
AN: I present to you all, chapter 39.
Thank you all for your patience, things have been busy for me, both in terms of writing and RL. I am certainly not at a point where I can guarantee regular updates on this story at the moment, but I will upload chapters as soon as they are done. :)
In the meantime, please do come and chat with me on facebook. If you would like to be friends with me there, then there is a link on my Profile page.
Enjoy.
Thank you to my brilliant beta, AchillesTheGeek.
Warnings and disclaimers apply as always

Previously:
She was fairly sure she knew which room was Remus' and hoped that he had at least been sober enough to find it himself or else she would have to go room to room. But sure enough, as she pushed the door open, she knew she had the right place.
Things were lying everywhere, clothes, books and pieces of parchment. She could smell how much he must have drunk the previous evening, and probably into that morning, from the air in the room alone. As she stepped towards the bed, where Remus was sprawled on top of the covers, it only got worse.
"Oh, Remus," Molly sighed, in a combination of disappointment, concern and exasperation. "What are we going to do with you?"
-#-
Harry had left Orion with Draco, as both he and Sirius had classes to go to, and was now sitting next to Ron in a double period of Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall was standing at the front of the class, wearing her usual stern expression.
“If you would all open your books to page one hundred and twelve, we will start by...” she said to the sixth year class.
But she was interrupted by a loud, forced cough from the back of the classroom. A few students turned to see where it had come from; but Harry had a sinking feeling that he already knew who had made it, and rested his forehead on his desk to resist turning to glare at the toad-like woman who was likely there.
“Harry, Harry...” Ron whispered as he elbowed his best friend.
When the cough repeated, McGonagall’s eyes narrowed and Harry finally gave in. He sat back up and peered over his shoulder, wanting to let out a groan as he eyes were assaulted by the excess of pink that he saw standing there, clipboard in hand, disgustingly false smile firmly in place.
“Can I get you a cough drop, Madam Umbridge?” McGonagall asked, her lips pinched tight into a thin line of disapproval.
Umbridge gave a small laugh that lacked any trace of amusement, “No need, Professor...”
“Very well, as I was saying...” the stern head of house tried again, but another loud cough interrupted. “Are you really quite sure you are well?” McGonagall asked, her voice tense with annoyance. Never, in all her years, had she known such a frustrating woman, or disliked someone quite so intensely or quickly.
“I merely wanted to inform you,” Umbridge said in her piercing voice, “that your class will be under my inspection today.”
Harry turned and said “Well, no shit,” under his breath to Ron, who smothered a chuckle.
“I had assumed as much, thank you,” McGonagall tersely informed the High Inquisitor, “or else I would have asked you to leave.”
“This could get interesting,” Ron whispered to Harry, who nodded in agreement as he looked hesitantly between the two women.
The High Inquisitor’s expression was tense as she made her way towards the front of the room; her eyes only leaving McGonagall’s to jot down some unseen note on her clipboard.
“I was under the impression that the point of these inspections was to gain an accurate picture of my teaching abilities and my usual lessons,” McGonagall said, folding her arms over her chest, towering over the smaller witch. “You should be aware I do not permit interruptions in my classroom... from anyone,” she added with a pointed glare at the Ministry-appointed witch.
“Consider it noted,” Umbridge stated, writing on her clipboard again as she ignored the obvious distaste with which the professor, and most of the class, were looking at her. “Please proceed,” she instructed, her hand waved dismissively as she summoned a chair near the front corner of the room and moved over to take a seat in it.
McGonagall appeared to be more than a little disgruntled but got on with their lesson on multicorfors, the transfiguration spell that changes the colour and style of the caster's outfit, paying no attention to the occasional humming noises and scribbling sounds that came from the High Inquisitor.
“Now that you know the theory, let’s see how you do in practise. I want you all to transfigure your robes white by the end of this lesson,” she announced, when she had finished her discussion of the theory behind the multicorfors spell.
Umbridge did a few rounds of the room, peering over student’s shoulders; watching carefully as each of them took notes of the chapter section they were reading and attempted to transfigure their robes white. When she reached Harry and Ron’s table, she gave a mocking chuckle at their, so far, failed attempts; Ron’s robe was a rather embarrassing bright pink and Harry’s was not much better, a buttery yellow. Umbridge smirked and observed, “Perhaps, Mr Potter, if your attentions were more focused on your academic requirements, and less on the premature creation of your family, you might not have quite so much difficulty.”
Harry clenched his jaw; he had no idea what the woman had against him and Draco, but it was grating on his nerves. He knew that he had to hold his tongue, for his family’s sake; after all, who knew what Umbridge would do if he responded the way he wanted to? He resisted the urge by forcing mental images of Draco and Orion into his brain and turned with a faked smile on his face.
“With Professor McGonagall’s expertise I am sure that, even with some limits on my time, I will achieve great things,” he told her. “However, I appreciate your concern.”
Umbridge looked surprised to receive such a polite response. Presumably she had heard rumour of Harry’s temper and had expected fireworks. In fact, she looked a little disappointed, and Harry felt a sweet moment of victory inside, which he was careful not to let show on his face. She also seemed to be holding back several comments of her own, but Harry managed to maintain his smile and after a tense moment of silence, during which many of the students and McGonagall had turned to watch them, Umbridge moved on to speak with a couple of Ravenclaws.
At the end of the double lesson Professor McGonagall transfigured all of their robes back to black and told them that there would be no assigned homework, much to the delight of her students. "Unless you wish to practise the spell further," she told them, with a small knowing smile in Hermione's direction. She did also go on to recommend they at least read the introduction to chapter six before the next lesson, earning a chorus of groans. It was only as the students began to pack away their books, quills, parchment and other such items, that Umbridge finally took her leave of the room.
Once the hateful woman was gone from the room, McGonagall made her way over to Harry’s desk, hesitating just long enough to say, “Consider this a reminder that patience and good manners have their rewards.”
Harry watched in confusion as the head of Gryffindor house left the classroom.
“Did she just basically admit we have no homework because you didn’t get pissed at Umbridge?” Ron asked incredulously.
Harry shrugged, “I think she might have. That was weird though, right?” he asked as he dropped the last few things in his bag. He threw the strap over his shoulder as he and Ron started to leave the classroom in search of Draco and then lunch.
“I’m proud of you,” Hermione whispered to Harry, as she caught up with them just as they were leaving the classroom. “Draco will be too,” she added.
“Draco will just be glad her Slytherin influence made me stop and think about consequences, before my Gryffindor nature made me defend my family,” Harry said. He was joking, but only partly; in fact he thought it was more that the alternative would have left his wife furious. Avoiding her wrath was probably reward enough. He loved Draco, but actively avoiding her bad side was a wise survival tactic, particularly when you were married to her.
-#-
It had been a long first week of term and Dumbledore sighed as he placed yet another of his letters, which had been returned, unopened, back onto his desk. Minister Fudge seemed to have decided that the easiest way to deal with the Headmaster’s complaints about the appointment of Madam Umbridge was to ignore him completely.
In truth there had been complaints from numerous other members of staff and several parents of students, but all of these had been responded to with curt, formal letters, informing their recipients that the appointment of the High Inquisitor had been approved using all due procedure and that Hogwarts’ Board of Governors had agreed to it.
Dumbledore looked up as the potions master entered the office. “Ah, Severus,” the Headmaster greeted happily, “do come in. Take a seat.”
“Headmaster,” Snape responded flatly with a small nod of his head.
The Headmaster waited patiently as Snape stepped forward; his robes billowed behind him, even with the small movement. He lowered himself into the chair across the desk from Dumbledore; he had grudgingly agreed to the meeting out of respect for the older man, but in truth he would have rather remained in his lab with his cauldrons and jars of ingredients for company.
“I trust your arrangement with the Potters is working as we hoped,” the Headmaster asked, smiling mildly at the younger professor.
“Mrs Potter, of course, has proven herself to be an adequate student,” Snape informed him.
“And Harry?” Dumbledore questioned with a pointed look over his half moon spectacles, not missing the obvious avoidance. He knew that the potions master would not easily move past his prejudices, despite the young man’s marriage to Draco, but Dumbledore held out hope that, with time, the two might learn to understand, perhaps even find some respect for, each other.
“I am... hopeful... that this more private tuition might lead to an improvement,” Snape said with a sneer, just barely keeping the bitterness from his voice. It was no easy task for him to willingly lend his free time to aiding James Potter’s son and had only agreed for Draco’s sake; if only the boy could have been more like his mother, then he might have found his company less contemptible. But the potions master had spoken the truth; it would, after all, be difficult for the boy to get worse. Severus would even go so far as to admit, at least to himself, that he was cautiously optimistic that Draco’s influence might be beneficial to Harry’s ability.
“With your skills, Severus, I have the utmost faith,” Dumbledore told him fondly, with a small chuckle.
Snape, however, looked less than amused as he gave a sharp nod of agreement, accepting the compliment. “As… commendable…,” he said, forcing the word through his lips as though it tasted bitter on his tongue, “…as I find your dedication to your students, Headmaster, I suspect you had more pressing reasons for summoning me here this evening.”
“Now come, Severus, surely a little conversation and time away from your brewing will do you no harm,” Dumbledore said.
“Indeed,” the potions master drawled, though he did not appeared to be entirely convinced, crossing his arms over his chest and saying nothing more as he waited for the Headmaster to decide to discuss the matter that was truly on his mind.
“Very well,” the Headmaster said; leaning forward he rested his elbows on his desk and knitted his fingers together. “I was curious as to when last you spoke with an old friend of yours,” he said, fixing Snape with a piercing gaze.
It was almost as a reflex action that Severus threw his Occlumency shields up over his mind even though he had nothing to hide. He hated the intrusive nature of Legilimency and what little trust he had ever had in others had been left in ruins in the aftermath of the war. However, the Headmaster did not invade his mind and did not attempt to obtain information by force.
“I presume you are referring to Lucius Malfoy?” Snape questioned keeping his face blank. In fact the question was rhetorical; he was certain this was precisely who Dumbledore had meant. And it was not a subject he was particularly keen to discuss, given how his visit to Malfoy Manor the week before had gone; both in regards to Narcissa’s worrying health and Lucius’ attitude.
Dumbledore nodded once. “I have my concerns that…”
“…he might be involved in assigning our High Inquisitor?” Snape interrupted, humming as a frown forming on his face, “I have wondered on the possibility of such a thing myself.”
“He has mentioned something that inclined you to believe this?” the Headmaster asked, curiously.
“Not as such,” Snape explained. “My interaction with the Malfoys has been strained as of late.” He resented that he felt compelled to reveal even that much to the older wizard; it wasn’t really any of his business but yet Dumbledore would expect either information, or an explanation for the lack there of.
“I see,” the Headmaster said; his eyes clearly showing he had more questions, but suspected that Severus would be unwilling to answer any of them given the expression the potions master was currently wearing.
“But one could hardly miss Umbridge’s opinion of the Potters,” Snape pointed out. “I have seen Hufflepuffs with more subtlety,” he added with distain.
“Now, now, we have quite enough house rivalry to deal with amongst the students, without our heads of houses adding to it,” Dumbledore said with a stern gaze, “but you are correct, in that Umbridge has seemingly taken issue with Orion and his parents. A regrettable circumstance, but not entirely unforeseen, I’m afraid.”
The potions master’s eyes narrowed. There was obviously more to the situation than he currently knew, and the Headmaster, it seemed, was already better informed. Severus scowled internally; Dumbledore had always seemed far too skilled at keeping himself more informed than those around him, and it was never pleasant feeling that the man was always a few steps ahead. He couldn’t help but wonder what it could be that the Headmaster was aware of, but it seemed Dumbledore was not any more willing to share on this subject than Severus had been with regards to his current standing with the Malfoys.
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, observing the potions master. It had not entirely been his intention to set Severus on guard against Umbridge, at least no more than he likely already was, but it would do no harm to have the observant head of Slytherin attempting to figure out what was behind the Ministry’s High Inquisitor.
In truth the Headmaster wished he could inform the younger professor about Umbridge’s history but there was legislation in place to prevent such a thing. Aggravating the Ministry of Magic would do them no favours at the present, given there were clearly powers at play there that wanted to see their downfall. Besides, the law was in place for a reason, for the protection of those involved, and Dumbledore could easily admit that it was necessary, even if a little inconvenient at the moment.
“If there is nothing else…,” Snape started.
The Headmaster looked up at him, having gotten lost in his own thoughts; he had momentarily forgotten the other man was still in his office. “Yes, yes, thank you for your time,” Dumbledore said, dismissively.
Snape pushed himself back to his feet. His thoughts were in a whirl: on Umbridge and what her presence would mean for the school; on Lucius and what the man’s part was in it all, if he had one; on Draco, Orion, and even Harry, Potter; and on Narcissa. His thoughts often drifted to the seriously unwell woman, even more so now that Lucius seemed opposed to his visits.
“Oh, and Severus…” the Headmaster called out, as the potions master’s hand was just reaching for the door.
Snape took a calming breath, and dropped his hand back to his side, before turning to face the older wizard with a politely questioning expression; he truly was more than ready to return to own dwellings at this point, ready to be alone with his thoughts.
“Do keep an eye on Madam Umbridge and the Potters,” Dumbledore requested, giving the other man a look over the top of his glasses.
Snape said nothing, but dipped his head in agreement; his loyalty to his old friend, Lucius, might be wavering, but he found that he had already subconsciously made the decision to protect Draco. The boy-turned-girl seemed to have the majority of the world against her; on that much he could relate and he would not willingly see her suffer further.
-#-
“Where exactly is your more reckless half?” Blaise asked Draco, just before leaning down and blowing a raspberry on Orion’s belly. The little boy laughed, his arms and legs waving in the air.
“I haven’t put a nappy back on him yet, Blaise. I will not be taking the blame should my son decide to urinate in your ear,” Draco pointed out; it took her a great deal of effort to hold back the laugh that tried to escape as she remembered the time that almost exactly that had happened to Sirius.
It was the first Saturday after the start of term and Blaise had joined Draco and Orion in the Potters' rooms rather than face another day spent sitting in the Slytherin common room; frequent glaring was rather distracting, after all.
Draco had left her best friend in the living room watching over Orion while she went to select some clean clothes to dress her son in. Though Draco couldn’t see from in the bedroom, at her comment Blaise’s face had scrunched up in distaste and he had sat up enough to move his head out of peeing distance. He hoped so, anyway, as he helped Orion to get a grip on one of his numerous toys instead.
“And Harry is at quidditch practice,” Draco said as she returned to the room. “Some idiot thought it was a good idea to make Ron Team Captain, and they were holding try-outs today. Not that Ron would even consider replacing Harry,” she told him, as she sat down and expertly maneuvered Orion into a fresh nappy. “I am just glad that McGonagall, or whoever made the decision, at least had the sense not to even suggest that Harry take the captaincy.”
“But wouldn’t Harry love that position?” Blaise asked with a puzzled expression. Now that Draco was watching Orion, he took the opportunity to lean back where he was sat on the floor, so that he was rested against the sofa.
“Exactly,” Draco said, as she lifted Orion enough to get his arms into the onesie she had chosen, “but when do you suppose he has time to plan and organise quidditch sessions? We barely have time for the few classes we are taking,” she explained. “He already had to seriously consider whether he could return to playing seeker for Gryffindor at all, as it is.”
“And you couldn’t have talked him into dropping it?” Blaise asked with a smirk. “Would have done wonders for Slytherin’s chances.”
“Very amusing, Slytherin will just have to beat them on their own merit,” Draco told him dryly knowing what the chances of that were.
“Our own merit might have been enough if you agreed to play again,” Blaise said, thinking it was worth at least one try, even if Draco’s mind was already made up on the matter.
The blonde sighed; she had seriously considered returning but her priorities had changed. “I decided I would rather spend that time with my beautiful little boy,” she explained, picking up Orion and holding him against her as he snuggled sleepily into her chest a little more, his small hands curled into fists. “But for Harry…” she went on, turning her attention back to Blaise, “I think it does him a lot of good to get out there and fly with his team regularly. Ron has agreed to do weekend practices and to be flexible about which ones Harry attends; it isn’t like he really needs to practice much.”
“Don’t you miss flying though?” Blaise asked, worried that Draco was giving up too much for Harry’s sake, or even for Orion’s. It wouldn’t do any of them any good if she came to resent them for it later in life. “I remember how much fun you had at your anniversary party with the Weasleys.”
“Oh, well I am hardly giving up flying,” Draco said, almost amused that Blaise would think her quite that self-sacrificing. “Sirius has agreed to take Orion for an hour or two on most weekends so that Harry and I can go flying,” she told him with a grin.
“Time to go flying and alone time with your husband in one move,” Blaise commented with a mildly impressed expression. “Just remember to make sure the showers are unoccupied for when you’re done flying for some more intimate alone time” he suggested; “and to use silencing spells,” he added with a smirk.
“Well, of course,” Draco responded with a devious expression all of her own. “And don’t worry, Professor Snape already helped me brew a large batch of contraceptive potion before the start of term,” she added with a wink.
Blaise laughed. “I am glad to hear they have not turned you entirely Gryffindor,” he told her, only laughing more when Draco glared at him. “No offence, of course. I have rather gotten used to some of them, but I rather like you as you are.”
“I think that was a compliment,” Draco stated with a mock expression of disbelief. “…Though, I am equally sure it was an insult at the same time,” she added after a moment’s thought, “so, I might just ignore it completely.”
“If you must,” Blaise said.
“So, you must have some Slytherin gossip of note to share,” Draco asked, as she got up to place the now sleeping Orion into his bassinette. “I have rather been left out of the loop, obviously.”
Blaise shook his head and let out a small laugh. “I would make a comment about how much of a girl you have become, if I didn’t know full well that you have always been this way,” he said fondly.
“I just like to know what is going on,” Draco said in defence of herself, as she took as seat on the sofa, “knowledge is power; didn’t you know?”
“So I have heard,” Blaise agreed with a definite tone of scepticism as he moved to take a seat next to her; but he told his best friend what little he knew, none the less.
-#-
Hermione loved being in the library, which was not exactly a secret but Ron had scoffed in amusement at how much she had missed it over the summer. She didn’t care what others thought about her love of books and reading, but would admit that she was glad her friends accepted it as part of her.
Ron was holding quidditch try-outs and, of course, as the team’s seeker, and Ron’s best friend, Harry had gone with him. Hermione had offered to go with them to offer support but they had told her that if she would rather go study then they would understand. It was one of those wonderful moments when she really was aware of just how much her two best friends knew and loved her, even if they were both hopelessly clueless at times.
And so it was that she found herself seated in the largely empty library with a small stacks of books in front of her. She had read several of them before, but there were just so many interesting topics that they would be studying in their sixth year and she was eager to read up on them all.
“Hello,” a dreamy voice greeted from behind one of the large piles of texts and Hermione had to lean to one side a little to be able to see the speaker.
“Erm… hello,” Hermione responded, slightly surprised to see Luna sitting across the table from her with a few books of her own.
“I believed I would find you here, no matter how much the nargles tried to confuse me,” the eccentric blonde said. She seemed to blink slowly and tipped her head slightly to the side as she gave Hermione a soft smile.
It was odd; everything about the girl was at least a little bit odd but Hermione found it suited Luna somehow. There was something soft and gentle about her, like she just sat easily into whatever environment she found herself in. Luna seemed the kind of girl who might find herself in a cave of manticores and then accidentally be accepted amongst them rather than be attacked.
Even the radishes that hung from her ears and the chain of butterbeer corks around her neck just seemed to suit somehow. Hermione took note of her Ravenclaw uniform and smiled back at the girl across from her; she had never had much cause or opportunity to socialise with that particular house but given their supposed intelligence she had often wondered if she couldn’t find a few that she would get on with well.
“I thought we could study together,” Luna suggested, still smiling a little serenely as Hermione observed her.
“I would like that,” Hermione said, shuffling her stacks of books such that the two of them had a clear view of each other.
“Oh goodie, it can be so much more interesting reading with someone else,” Luna said, smiling a little wider as her opened the book from the top of the few she had brought over with her.
Hermione was used to reading alone, but she certainly didn’t find herself opposed to the company that this girl offered and so she settled back into reading her own book again, only looking up occasionally to share a smile with her new friend across the table.
-#-
Pansy’s father had informed her, before she had returned to Hogwarts, that there had been a new appointment by the Minister of Magic himself and that this woman would bring about some more preferable changes in the institution. But so far, she was unimpressed.
She had particularly enjoyed that Draco was once again forced to eat where she should be, showing the proper respect to their house once more; though it still irked Pansy greatly that such a thing should have to have been forced at all. It had been barely more than eighteen months since Draco’s accident and the blonde Slytherin was almost unrecognisable from boy that Pansy was supposed to have married.
There had also supposedly been a few amusing inspections on some of the professors, but unfortunately she had not had the pleasure to witness even one of the horrendous staff taking on Madam Umbridge. As such the entire first week of term had been an altogether disappointing experience.
Though granted, it still ranked at least a little above the thoroughly miserable summer; she had never visited quite so many families, in quite so many countries, in quite such a short period of time, before. It was awful; it had given new meaning to the word awful.
Her father, and mother to a lesser extent, had dragged her to meet every eligible bachelor who met their rightfully high standards; she did at least agree that she couldn’t just marry some half-blood, the idea was beyond ridiculous. Either way, her choices were now rather limited; her broken engagement counted against her and it seemed that ‘my fiancé was turned into a girl’ was not an adequate excuse.
After far too many weeks of long distance portkeys, and more apparition than she thought she had ever experienced in her life, Pansy Parkinson had not one, but three potential new husbands. Granted, not one of them actually spoke English, or any other language she was familiar with; and granted none of them had the influence of the Malfoys; but she would be married…
…Provided she passed her NEWTs with high enough grades. Surprisingly it had been this that had felt like the greatest insult after all the ‘inspections’ and highly personal questions that she had had to answer; as though SHE had to prove her worth to THEM. She would, of course, be more than capable of meeting their requirements, but that hardly seemed like the point.
She supposed the point was really that she still dreamed of being Mrs Malfoy and was having trouble letting that go; it was never going to be exactly easy, when the only things that were waiting for her now were mediocre foreign men, who viewed her as little more than adequate breeding stock and would be unable to hold a conversation with her.
The other Slytherins didn’t understand, or have patience, for her foul moods and she found that she had little patience for their disapproval. Pansy supposed she had changed too, they all had; the dynamics of their school year had shifted into something strange and relatively unknown with Draco’s dramatic shift in loyalty. Admittedly, maybe they had forced Draco’s hand when they had flat out rejected her following her disowning, but that was no surprise; Slytherins were not known for their loyalty.
Pansy paused in her leisurely walk of the school grounds, to observe the Gryffindor quidditch team as they headed back towards the castle, presumably having just finished a practice session. Even from where she was standing, a little distance away, she could spot Potter and Weasley walking together.
Her loathing of Potter had reached new heights since his sudden marriage to Draco, and the creation of their little brat. Pansy could have almost have forgiven the way the Gryffindor had helped the blonde Slytherin, when Draco had been so abandoned, even if it seemed so weird that the two of them had somehow come to an understanding; but their whole relationship, particularly the sheer speed of it, felt like a personal attack and betrayal all at once.
There was nothing to be done, however, and she knew it. She had a few ideas, of course, but those required things she didn’t have and currently saw no way of getting; until that changed, those schemes would have to be kept on the shelf.
Her attention turned back to the Gryffindors as she spotted that Weasley and Potter had not been the last to leave, as she had believed; the girl Weasley was following them. The redheaded girl was obviously trying to be secretive about it too, given the distance she kept between herself and the other two boys. Pansy had never really spared anything more than a passing thought for any of the Weasleys, but the expression on the girl’s face had definitely caught her eye.
It was anger, possibly even rage, and it was directed at Potter and Weasley; of course, it could simply be a case of sibling issues and of no importance to Pansy at all, but if that look was for Potter…
Pansy smiled; this was something worth investigating.

By popular demand I have created an email group, where I send an email notifying people on the list when I update any of my stories. If you wish to receive these email notifications then please let me know in a review, leaving me your email address.
I will NOT use your email address for anything other than sending you notifications and I will NOT give your email address to anyone else.
Also, like I said, I am now on facebook, and will announce updates there (link in my bio)
Please do take a moment to review and give me your thoughts, it would mean the world to me. (As always I will happily respond to any and all review posted when I post the next chapter, like I have below)
Review responses:
Gruffard - Yeah, Snape really is quite a bit of an arse, though he is reluctantly fond of Orion. Umbridge is still as vindictive as ever, and she does have her reasons to be that way, all will become clear in time ;).
Kay - Thank you, I am glad you are really enjoying it. I have only ever seen a handful of Fem!Draco stories, so I thought I would give it a go myself and then it kind of took on a life of its own.
Chaos Lady - Thank you.
Niamh - Remus isn't being a needy wimp exactly, he is depressed and not coping with it well at all. He lacks purpose at the moment more than anything and doesn't know what to do with himself. This is something that will be explored more as we go on.
- 38
- 39
- 40
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

For The Sake Of A Name