Unofficial Portkey Archive

TITLE: All Roads Lead Back

KEYWORDS: Hermione, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Draco and the rest of the gang. Primarily H/Hr, but a slew of various ships as well. Post-HBP.

SYNOPSIS: Harry Potter always figured that once his destiny was fulfilled he could finally have a happy, normal life. Unfortunately for him he fell in love with his best friend...and everything went straight to hell! A very gradual, slow moving H/Hr love story told through multiple canon character perspective as well as several flashbacks. Set 7 years after the final battle.

SPOILERS: All six books.

WORD COUNT: 16,324

RATING: NC17 for language and later sexual content.

BETA: Padfoot & murphsmine

WARNING: D/LL and past mentions of a ONE-SIDED D/Hr. For those in the back who didn't hear me I said ONE-SIDED. You have been warned.

DISCLAIMER: If it looks like it's JKR's, well, that's because it is. She's provided me with the canvas and I'm truly enjoying painting on it.

Thursday, 05/26/05

He had finally decided to do it. He was going to do it! He was going to walk right into that store and buy that ring for her. I'm going to walk right in, buy that ring, and by the might of Salazar I'm not going to lose my nerve, the little voice in Draco's head assured himself. Of course if he hadn't been so agitated, he would have asked himself why the hell he was hearing little voices where little voices oughtn't to have been. But Draco didn't have time for all that self-analysis mumbo jumbo. He was about to make a very important commitment to the woman who he was almost certain he was in love with. Scratch that, he was sure he was in love with Luna. This was serious business! It wasn't everyday you asked a girl to think about marrying you.

Draco had come to the little town of Hogsmeade to re-interview a witness for his current case. His division of Aurors was tracking some pureblood nutjob who had a hard-on for torching people. The problem, however, was that no one was exactly sure what Cadmus, the nut in question, looked like or where the hell he even was.

They knew basics. According to Ministry records he was born in a small Devon village, Denbury, around 1890 to a witch and wizard of apparently low status. Neither had ever been students at Hogwarts, and Ptolemy had never crossed those hollowed halls himself, even though Cadmus was a very ancient and venerable wizarding name. Instead sometime around 1904, young Cadmus was employed as a stable boy for a family in St. Catchpole; the Stonefeathers. The Stonefeathers were a very old, very powerful, very rich wizarding family that only employed human servants. The patriarch, Elias Stonefeather, had once lost a card game to his elf valet, and because of that heinous transgression house-elves were forever banned from his presence. Cadmus apparently stayed with the family for only a few years before disappearing from the world.

The next time he showed up on any wizarding radar was when his daughter entered Hogwarts in 1923. There was no record of Cadmus marrying, but according to the daughter's schoolmates, she was very proud of her paternal name and always maintained that both her parents were of magical birth. It was assumed that Cadmus had simply lived Muggle for all those missing years. They were still waiting for paper work from Arthur Weasley's office to determine if this was in fact true. They did know that by time the daughter married her Muggle husband the unnamed mother was dead. The cause of death was uncertain, but Draco wouldn't be surprised if she hadn't been tuned into a crispy bit herself.

Some years after his daughter's death, Cadmus married a stupid bint by the name of Cady Bishop who had been a barmaid at the Haggling Hag. From what Draco had been able to gather, Cady was also a small time whore who picked up her tricks from the Hag's clientele. If Cadmus knew this when he married her, he apparently didn't care. After the 1952 wedding, that shockingly enough took place in the Ministry, Cadmus once again chose to lay low.

That is until he killed Kevin and Whitney Whitby right in their Hogsmeade shop. It would seem that for Cadmus, Whitney was too much of a Muggle for his tastes, though the Second Squad didn't come to that conclusion until much later. At first there were no suspects. The few eyewitnesses they had to the crime could only report seeing a dragon leaving the scene shortly after the shop began to burn to the ground. The thinking was that it was all some freak, random dragon attack. Experts from the Magical Creature department were called in to investigate. But when the second couple, a Cloinda and Desmond Forbes, were torched in the husband's home the Ministry knew that something was up.

The Second Squad, Potter's Posse as they were secretly called much to their department head's chagrin, were officially put on the case and dispatched out to Peckham to investigate. Before a force of Obliviators went to work on them, the Forbes' neighbors reported seeing a dragon flying away. That now made for two random dragon attacks. And what was more confusing was that from the descriptions they were able to attain, the dragon was a breed that wasn't known to live in Europe.

For weeks the authorities were stumped as to what was going on. That is until Langdon Moon and his new bride of 2 weeks, Sarah, died while trying to escape from the blazing inferno that had once been their Diagon Alley flat. As was usual the witnesses reported seeing a copper colored dragon; a Vipertooth. For the first time Draco and his partner, Potter, were able to fit a pattern to the crimes. They both realized what all three couples had in common; they were all newlyweds and they all were part of mixed marriages. Kevin and Langdon were both wizards; Cloinda had been a witch. Their respective spouses were all Muggles.

But the pièce de résistance came in the form of a ring that was found in the wreckage of the Moon's home. It was a woman's ring. To be precise, it was a gold Hogwarts house ring with the Ravenclaw seal embossed on it; class of 1930.

Of course they naturally assumed that the ring was a Moon family heirloom; Langdon came from a Ravenclaw legacy. But after the ring was thoroughly examined, the name Cadmus was found scrawled long the inside of it. That was when Harry's researchers went to work. They found the name of Harmonia Cadmus, Ravenclaw, listed as one of Hogwarts' former Head Girls. They also learned that Harmonia left school that Christmas break of her last year to marry a Muggle named Heinz Andrews, and that her husband killed her not too long after the wedding. Further digging revealed that Andrews died in a freak fire in 1998. The mental clinic the old man still lived in since killing his wife burned to ashes with him inside. He was the only casualty.

Soon after the ring was identified an article, published without the Department's consent, appeared in the Daily Prophet detailing the gruesome murders of the Moons. The ring was mentioned, and a few scant hours later Cady Cadmus was at Ministry headquarters to claim her family's possession. The sapphire ring was priceless, or so she said. It rightfully belonged to her husband, Toley, she informed Whitmer, the Auror who took her statement. From what the slightly inebriated wench told them, her husband Ptolemy wore the ring on a gold chain around his neck and never took it off. She gabbled on for hours more, but it didn't matter. They finally had their man!

Or so they thought. The problem was that Cadmus seemed to always be three steps ahead of Potter's Posse. They would arrive at a country B&B and find Cadmus written in the ledger days after the crafty wizard had already left. They would find Cadmus written on slips of paper in the drawers of pawn shops the man unloaded one item after another in. The biggest problem for them was that not one witness could give them a clear description of what the elusive Cadmus looked like. Not even his wife. And she fucked him for Merlin's sake, Draco was known to grumble.

All they knew was that they were looking for a rather large male, well over 6 feet, which was built like a baby manticore. Although he was of a considerable age, well over 100 years, he supposedly didn't look a day over 75. According to Mrs. Cadmus, he walked with a pronounced limp due to a run-in he had with an abraxan when he was a young teen and he wore his long white hair in a plait down his back. He also had an equally long, snow white beard that he kept immaculately clean.

Harry called in a sketch artist to do a rendering of what the lunatic could look like. There didn't seem to be a single photograph of him in existence. After the sketch was completed, the wife told them that it was probably a pretty good depiction. If you asked him, Draco thought the barmy eejit looked like the Muggle Father Christmas on steroids. When Draco mentioned this to Potter he was told, rather nastily, that he in fact did not ask him his opinion.

They had a good sketch and they had a few good leads, which should have been enough. From the description they were given, Cadmus was the sort of fellow you would remember if you ran into him. But some thing odd happened. Every person the man came in contact with seemed to remember speaking to him, but couldn't quite recall anything else afterwards. What they talked about, what he was wearing, if there was anyone else with him; nothing.

Potter had surmised that Cadmus was either using a strong cloaking charm, or was confunding these people. Draco was quick to agree. Draco also believed that despite whatever screws might be loose in the loon's head, they were also dealing with one very powerful wizard. The man could control a Vipertooth! A fucking Vipertooth! They were mean little buggers. A Peruvian would rather have a man for lunch than allow one to trot it about like some over grown St. Bernard. This bloke, however, seemed to be able to command and ride one.

And how else to explain Cadmus' apparent control over so many people's mind, even months after the fact? The witness that Draco had re-interviewed, a Winnona Bettany, still seemed to be slightly frazzled after all this time. Winnona contacted the Ministry to tell them that she was remembering some more details of the day she watched Kevin Whitby's bakery burn. Harry dispatched Draco to Hogsmeade to get her testimony, but when the young Auror arrived at the tiny old crone's cottage she appeared surprised to see him. She didn't recall floo'ing the Ministry that morning at all. She then promptly offered Draco a plate of biscuits that looked like they were covered in kneazle hair. Draco graciously declined and hot tailed it out of there. Winnona still seemed to be confunded, and Draco wouldn't be surprised if they found most of Cadmus' secondhand victims in the same condition.

Although this fact finding mission had been a bust, Draco did find something else to do with his day. He was currently standing in front of Magical Moments, an antique shop next to Puddifoot's. Magical Moments specialized in specialty pieces of furniture and jewelry. It was a piece of jewelry in fact that held Draco's attention.

He had first spotted the ring after leaving Puddifoot's one day a few weeks ago. He had met Pepper Warrington, one of the few Slytherin house mates of his that would still associate with him, there for lunch. Back in his Fifth Year Pepper had been a member of the Inquisitional Squad that he, and a bunch of the other kids Draco ran with, joined. The slightly older black haired, turquoise eyed girl was also the hot piece of arse that introduced young Draco to the world of sex. Luckily for him, right under Pansy's pugged nose.

The two of them remained acquaintances even after she married the man she had been betrothed to since childhood, Conrad Warrington. Warrington was another fellow Slytherin and Inquisitional Squad member. Pepper had asked Draco to lunch because she needed a shoulder to cry on. She was afraid that "Connie" had a mistress. Over scones and hot tea, Draco patted her hand and reassured her that he was almost certain that Warrington wasn't stepping out on her with another woman. Draco neglected to inform her that the Warrington he remembered from school seemed to prefer the lads. Once Pepper was calmed down, Draco exited the little café.

Merlin how he hated Puddifoot's! The tacky decor always seemed to look like a Muggle greeting card exploded inside. Pepper is going to have to choose a better locale next time, he thought sullenly to himself. As he walked pass the neighboring shop, he just happened to glance over and looked in the window. His eye caught the gleam off of a silver object lying on a purple velvet pillow. As he came closer to inspect the object, he saw that it was a ring. The ring was sterling silver with an ebony onyx stone in the center of it. The sides had some sort of engravings on them, but from his vantage point Draco couldn't tell what they were. With his curiosity aroused, Draco entered the store to investigate. Upon hearing the little bell that went off, the shops' owner came rushing up to him.

"Can I help you, fine sir?" the rather plump middle aged witch asked him. She was dressed in dark gray robes that matched her up-swept hair. She had a rather pleasant face that looked like it gave easily to smiles, like the one she was giving him now.

"Oh it's nothing really. I was just curious about that ring in your window. It kind of caught my eye," he said, sending her a sexy smirk that made most women want to fling their knickers at him.

Apparently this witch was no exception. She giggled as she waddled quickly over to the window. Draco did a quick survey of the neat little shop, and saw that although the items in it appeared to be old, they also seemed to be of the finest quality and quite pricey. This was a relief to him. If his mother ever caught word that he had been spotted in some cheap little remainder shop he would never hear the end of it. Malfoys only bothered with the best!

"This is a rather nice little place. How long has it been here?" Draco asked conversationally as she came ambling back to him, ring in palm.

"Oh, I just moved in here not too long ago," she shared as she handed the ring to Draco. "I had a lot in Diagon, but the rent was just far too much for me."

Draco listened to her talk as he examined the ring closely. It was truly an exquisite piece. The large onyx stone almost seemed to entrance him, and the silver brilliantly gleamed as if it had its own inner sparkle.

"Gorgeous, isn't it? And right clever too! It can reshape to fit perfectly any finger it is placed on."

Draco looked down at the woman who was standing right in front of him. He felt as if he were in a daze. She smiled back up at him and clucked her tongue.

"That right there is the last remaining bit of the Swinhufvud treasure."

"Swinhufvud?" Draco asked, pronouncing the name awkwardly.

The woman gave a small laugh.

"They were an old Swedish noble family. Well, they lived as nobles rather. They all were wizards, though. The line died out sadly."

Draco nodded his head although he had barely heard her. He was still looking at the intricate detailing on the sides. It sort of looked like a...pig; a very odd looking pig with weirdly shaped horns.

"A poor young wizard, hard on his luck, sold it to me a few years ago," the shop owner continued. "Not a member of the family, of course. He probably got it from a past relative who worked as a servant for them. But in my line of business you don't tend to ask questions, now do you?"

Draco nodded affirmatively and then held the side of the ring out to the woman.

"It's something special all right. But what the devil are these things?" he asked pointing out the engravings.

The woman giggled again and took the ring gingerly out of Draco's hand.

"You wouldn't be the first person to ask that question. It's a snorkack."

Draco, who had been looking at the ring longingly, quickly brought his eyes back to the witch. Surely she didn't say what he thought she said.

"Come again?"

"I said it's a snorkack. At least that's what that young man told me when I asked him. The Swinhufvud's apparently raised the things," she answered him.

Draco stared at the woman in comical disbelief for a moment before doubling over in laughter. The woman looked at him confusedly.

"Well yes, I gather it is a rather odd looking beastie," she said. She gave a halfhearted, nervous laugh.

When the attractive blond first strode into her store, Lucretzia Boothe had taken one look at the well groomed young man in his expensive looking robes and his rather prideful air and smelled a sale in the air. Lucretzia could spot money when she saw it and this young Adonis with the light gray eyes had buckets of it.

She didn't count on him being a nutter, though.

Draco, still laughing, ran his fingers across his shortly shorn head of hair as he looked into the perplexed face of the store's owner.

"I'm sorry. It just really is an odd looking...beastie," he said.

Seconds later he was out the door.

For weeks afterwards Draco would find some reason or another to come to Hogsmeade and walk by Magical Moments. Each time he would hope against hope that the ring would still be in the window, and each time he would be pleased to see that it was. He figured the reason for this was that there weren't many women who would wear a bauble decorated with a pig. Well, maybe there was one woman, Draco thought affectionately.

No one would have ever expected Draco Malfoy and Luna Lovegood to get together. Sure she came from a "good" pureblood family; that did not negate the fact that the woman was a few bats short of a belfry. Draco had known her in school of course. You couldn't miss her, what with her bottle cap necklaces, radish earrings, and hats that would roar or flap about. She wasn't just eccentric, she was bonkers! Draco and his gang took great pleasure in harassing her when she first showed up at Hogwarts. That is until they realized that the shoddy treatment did little to faze her. It was no fun kicking someone in the teeth if they didn't at least acknowledge that their gums were a bit sore, Draco mused. It was so much more enjoyable to have a go at Scarhead and the Weasel King instead. Now there were two dolts who made his harassment well worth the while. Draco lost all interest in Luna very quickly.

After the War he would run into her occasionally, but she wasn't really a person who was on his radar. Then one fine spring day that all changed. Chief Hanes had told Draco the day prior that a brand new reporter from a fine and reputable paper was coming to do a personality piece detailing a young man's first few months as a new Auror. Hanes volunteered Draco. Draco didn't mind much, he rather liked the idea of reading an article in the Prophet or hopefully the International Seer expounding upon all of his daring exploits and heroics.

The day of the interview Draco came to work dressed in a pair of finely fitted black trousers and a black cashmere pullover. His platinum hair set against his usual dark apparel made him look like a sinisterly sexy angel. As he waited for the reporter at his neatly ordered desk during his lunch break, he briefly wondered if he was going to be interviewed by a woman. He also wondered if said woman would be yummy enough to bed. That should get him a front page exclusive surely! All these thoughts were dashed though when the journalist in question walked in.

"YOU?!" he exclaimed accusingly, voice dripping with disdain.

Luna Lovegood looked much the same as she did way back in school. Her hair was still dirty blonde, although now she wore it in large curls that hung to her shoulders. Her eyes looked like molten silver with flecks of blue scattered throughout. The way they bulged gave her a constant look of surprise. Her straight thin nose and thin pale lips were features found commonly on pureblood girls. She was somewhat pale as well, but she didn't look washed out. Her complexion went well with her rather waifish prettiness. Luna Lovegood was in a word, cute. This fact was not lost on Draco as she stood at the entryway of his cubicle dressed in chocolate brown robes. But she's still is mad as ever, he contemptuously thought as he noted the far off look on her face.

"YOU!" Draco sputtered again.

"Yes me," she said in a low and dreamy, melodious voice. "At least I think I'm still me. I was when I first walked in here. I think."

Draco gaped at her, mouth opened wide. He was relieved that most of his office mates had gone out to lunch and were not around to witness this. He would have never lived it down.

"You should be careful, you know. Although a wrackspurt usually comes in through the ears, you never know when they might adapt and jump in any available hole."

She then placed her hand on his chin and closed his mouth for him. Draco was so annoyed that he didn't even notice the small tingle he felt where she touched him. He jerked his chin away. This was not how he expected his day to go.

"What the hell are you doing here, Loony?!" he demanded, his temper steadily rising.

"I'm here to interview you. Didn't Uncle Army arrange all this?"

At this point Draco didn't care who Uncle Army, Uncle Navy, or Uncle bloody Royal Air Force was. He wanted the woman out of his office!

"He and daddy played chess together just a few days ago. When I told Uncle Army about the article I wanted to write he said he would handle it. Armistead Hanes is your boss, correct?" she asked, eyes boring into his own similarly colored ones.

"Hang on; Chief Hanes is your uncle?"

She gave a disturbingly loud laugh, much like the bray of a wild horse, and shook her head.

"No. Uncle Army and Dad are just good friends. Dad even lets him cheat at chess."

Draco silently cursed under his breath. Hanes in the Arse had set him up. Fine and reputable paper indeed! The Quibbler was a piece of garbage that most people used to line their owls' cages. It advertised spells to help you raise a sphinx army and published feature articles on goblin/vampire secret alliances. It was a joke and just so happened to be the paper that Linus Lovegood, Luna's father, owned and edited. Draco sighed. There would be no front page exclusive to look forward to now.

"Look Loony, I think there has been a mistake," Draco said as he slowly stood from his chair.

"Is there? Did I come on the wrong day? I can come back," she said, her voice for the first time diverging from its whimsical tone.

Draco gritted his teeth in agitation. Why couldn't this loon get the picture and just leave, he thought moodily.

"It's not that," he said. "I just don't think I'm the right person for you to write your little story on. I'm not in some torrid love affair with that bloke from The Hobgoblins, and I don't know anything about Scrimgeour's pet Golem."

He said the last bit rather nastily.

"Oh," Luna said in a soft, dismayed voice.

Draco looked at Luna again and was almost horrified to discover that her eyes were watering. He hated the sight of a crying woman, unless she was a drunk, crying woman. Those he knew how to handle. Lovegood on the other hand was a different story.

"Loony, please do not cry. I just don't think you'll get the story that you want from me."

Luna sniffed loudly.

"Maybe you're right," she admitted. "I told Uncle Army that I wanted to write a story on how people can change. For the better, that is. And how it was possible to get a clean slate. But I guess you're right. You aren't the person I wanted to write about," she said pointedly.

She then turned on her low booted heel and proceeded to walk away.

Draco stared dumbly at her back for a split second before he grabbed her arm and turned her around again to face him.

"You wanted to write what?"

Luna gazed strait at him and tilted her head up proudly.

"I know that my father's paper has a reputation for publishing rubbish. But there is a lot of good in there if people would take the time to read it. I wanted to write an article about you."

Draco let go of her arm and tugged distractedly on his ear. He felt like Loony Lovegood was turning his brain to mush.

"You mean to tell me you asked Hanes specifically for me? For your interview?"

Luna gave a little nod.

"But why?"

A small smile appeared on his face.

"Because you fascinate me," she told him.

Draco snorted. Her smile grew larger.

"You don't even realize just how interesting you are, do you?"

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Listen sweetheart, there are over a dozen Aurors you could have gotten for your little puff piece," he said. And most of them wouldn't have made you cry, he added in his head.

"Oh, I'm not talking about the fact that you are an Auror. Daddy says that half you lot are nothing more than glorified babysitters for Fudge's...well, I suppose now Scrimgeour's secret heliopath stash."

Draco made a loud noise in his throat that was halfway between a laugh and a scoff of derision.

"What I'm talking about is what you have done with your life. And not even the fact that you helped bring down Voldykins."

At this Draco did laugh. He had never heard the Dark Lord referred to as such.

"What's so special about me, Loony? I mean, I know I'm rather gorgeous but-"

"Oh, are you?" she asked just as innocent as could be. Draco didn't detect a hint of ill will in the question. "You see I always sort of went for redheads."

Draco recalled that Lovegood had dated the Weasel King not too long ago. And if he was remembering right, it did not end well. At all.

"Back in school I always wondered if that," she looked up at his short blonde buzz cut, "was your real hair color. It makes you look rather peaky, doesn't it?"

Draco's feathers were ruffled. He did not look peaky! He was a handsome enough fellow, if he said so himself. And he did! Often!

"But that is neither here nor there," Luna added as she clasped her hands in front of her. "I actually admire you Draco Malfoy."

Draco was astounded at this disclosure. Luna Lovegood admired him? What the devil for? And why did her revelation sound eerily like another pronouncement he'd heard once before?

"I am very, very proud of you Draco Malfoy."

Draco shook those thoughts from his head. He found that Luna was staring him steadily in his eyes. He cleared his throat.

"You um...admire me?" he asked.

Luna smiled.

"Well, yes. Are you feeling ok? Did a mugumpwa bite you? They are rather nasty things, pixies. They bite you and all you hear in your head is Celestina Warbeck warbling away until it drives you mad. I'm not sure why Celestina, though. Do you suppose she put them up to it?"

"Listen Loony, you lost me at mugumpwa."

Draco closed his eyes as he placed his hand to his head. He felt a migraine rapidly approaching.

Luna gave that horse-like laugh again.

"Very well, very well. You just looked so confused when I said that I admired you," she replied.

At this time some of the other Aurors were making their way back into the office. Draco opened his eyes and watched them as they filed in.

"I do, you know."

Draco turned his attention back on Luna.

"I find people who defy conventions interesting," she said. "You were born into a world where you were taught that you were better than most, where you were taught to despise that which was different than yourself. You learned these lessons from the people that gave you life so you shouldn't have questioned them."

Draco swallowed the lump that formed in his throat, headache forgotten. Why did he think Loony was so loony again?

"But you did question them. You turned against everything that was programmed into your head because you knew deep down it was wrong. Do you know how hard it is to do that? It would have been far easier for you to turn to the Death Eaters..."

"Which would have had me dead now, or in Azkaban."

"But you didn't know that then, did you?"

Draco shook his head.

"Of course not. Back then none of us knew who would come out on top in the end. But you knew that you could no longer fall in step with whatever Voldykins had planed. It's a very difficult thing, to think for one's own self. We go to this restaurant because we're told that it's the so-called spot to be seen. We glorify certain people because we are told that they should be put up on pedestals. We degrade others because we are told they should be scorned."

She said this last bit not without a touch of bitterness in her voice.

"But to think for one's own self? Some fear that more than the grave! If you die you're just dead. Nothing else can be done about that. But when you think for yourself you have to live with that decision and accept the consequences. For most, that can be a truly terrifying concept."

"Ok Loony, now you've really lost me. I think my head is starting to hurt again."

Luna covered her mouth to hold back the laugh (thank Merlin) that wanted to break free.

"I'm simply saying that it was brave of you to side with Harry, especially since you hated him once. You made a decision that seems to have changed your life for the better. But that change never would have come if you hadn't made the first step. That took courage."

Draco tried to fight the blush of embarrassment that he feared was spreading across his face. Luna was assigning motivations to his deeds and actions that were not necessarily true, but they sure sounded good to hear her tell it. He could almost believe them himself.

"And then the way you fought the Ministry when they didn't want to let you into the Department to train? Holy hippogriffs; that took erumpent sized balls!"

Draco was quite certain his face was boiling now. Not too many people knew that last part. After the War, even after all that Draco had done to help bring down Lord Voldemort, he still wasn't trusted. He was a Malfoy, and as such, was considered a traitor to the Ministry. That little incident back in Sixth Year where he let a horde of homicidal followers of the Dark Lord into Hogwarts, an act which resulted in Headmaster Dumbledore's death, also did not help his standing. So unsurprisingly when Draco suddenly decided that this whole saving people gig might not be so bad, and wanted to become an Auror, there were many people in positions of power who were determined that he would not get his wish. But in the end everything worked out and Draco eventually got to join the Department of Magical Law Enforcement after all. There was one person who wouldn't have had it any other way.

"You could have taken all the Malfoy galleons and been done with it. But you stuck it out and you fought for your right to train."

When Luna noticed Draco's questioning look she simply said, "Hermione told me. She was very proud of you, you know."

"Yes. Yes she was," Draco said, heart thumping as it did every time he thought of a certain brunette, or someone even spoke her name.

"Well, I should be going now," Luna said as she looked around the room and saw that it was almost full. "I'm sorry for wasting your time, Mr. Malfoy."

Luna turned around and made for the exit of the office again. Draco watched her go until he heard a small voice chide him to stop her before she left. He couldn't be certain, but he imagined that the voice sounded a lot like Hermione's.

"Loony, wait!"

Heads all over the department turned to see who was making the racket. Luna, who had been halfway out the door, turned to look at him, that dreamy look returning to her face. Draco shyly shuffled over to where she stopped and stood before her.

"Listen Loony, um...if you still want to do the interview, I'm for it. Just say when," he said as he stared at the floor, too scared to meet her eyes. Because of this he missed the huge smile that spread across her face.

"Well now, that would be just lovely," Luna said, beaming.

"Sadly I'm a working stiff and we have frittered away what little break I had," said Draco jokingly.

Luna grabbed one of Draco's hands and wound her arm through his own. Draco was slightly startled by the bold move of intimacy, but shrugged it off. It felt nice.

"Uncle Army will understand if I steal you away for another hour. This is going to be my first big feature article and I'm sure that he will want it to turn out well."

"Sounds good enough to me," Draco said as he steered Luna towards the exit. "Why don't we get something to eat so our stomachs will be full as I tell you how wonderful I am?"

Luna gave a girlish giggle that was tons better than that horsy thing she did.

"That sounds just marvy. Oh I know! We could go to Madame Puddifoot's in Hogsmeade. I haven't been there in ages. I always loved the decor when I was a little girl."

You would, thought Draco in bemusement.

He ended up taking a two hour lunch that day. Luna turned out to be a pretty excellent journalist. She asked questions that no other reporter would generally ask, and for the trouble got insightful answers out of Draco. When the article was published a few days later, it caused such a sensation that the Daily Prophet and the International Seer both paid the Quibbler a sizable sum to run the piece in both of their publications. There was just something so titillating about a son who could turn his back on his family in order to fight for the Side of Light. And the personal demons he dealt with in order to do so...sexy. Draco became a minor celebrity overnight. He practically had to beat the women off of him with a stick, which he almost invested in seeing as how he was now dating Luna.

He didn't end up in bed with Luna the night of his interview. Luna was after all a pureblood girl and they tended to be uptight when it came to premarital sex. But after sharing cozy lunches for two, and heading out to the Muggle cinema just about every night for a couple of weeks, it seemed a far gone conclusion that they would inevitably have sex. Draco was almost terrified of the prospect. He was shocked to discover that he actually liked spending time with Luna. Sure she was offbeat, but he kind of liked that aspect of her. She also was one of the least judgmental people he had ever met. She respected the fact that he could be sarcastic and surly. He admired the fact that she was unapologetically slightly insane. She loved it when he called her "Loony Love"; said she had never had a pet name before. He would nearly jump her every time she called him "Lover" in that throaty, dream-like tone of hers. Draco feared that once they eventually fucked he would lose all interest in her. That was his usual pattern.

In fact when he and Luna first started dating he had been seeing Pristine Pringle. She was an auburn haired, pureblood princess he had been dating on and off for years. His mother had introduced Draco to Pristine at a luncheon she had hosted. It would be too kind to call her simply a husband hunting harpy. Hermione had hated her! Said she was silly, vapid, and most importantly, could afford to eat a sandwich a time or two. Pristy was very pretty though and was good for a lay every now and then. Draco barely tolerated her. When Draco dumped Pristine for Luna he was almost certain that the Ravenclaw would soon follow her predecessor. But it never happened. Nearly a year and half to the date of that fated interview, Draco ended up shifting into the Lovegood home in St. Catchpole. He had never been so happy in all his life!

Two years later found him still ridiculously happy. That was why he was still standing in front of Magical Moments. As soon as he had seen the ring he knew that he wanted to give it to his Loony Love. Once the shopkeeper told him about the snorkacks (crumple-horned snorkacks Lover, his girlfriend would have said had she been there) that were engraved on it, he knew that he had to get it for Luna. It was made for her. He didn't even care about the price, 250 galleons. Nothing was too good for his Loony.

In fact what he really wanted to give her was the Malfoy Pearl. The Malfoy Pearl was the family heirloom that was passed down to each first son of the family. Upon selecting a bride, the heir would place it on the young lady in question's finger and thus begin the Rites. The Pearl was currently sitting on his mother's vanity table waiting patiently for Draco to choose his future bride. As far as Draco was concerned, he had found her. The problem was that he knew that Luna was slightly wand-shy at the prospect of another wedding. For this reason above all others Draco wanted to curse the Weasel King and turn him into a self-swallowing flobberworm. He had read in the Prophet that the Weasel was planning on marrying the very same slag that disrupted the redhead's wedding to Luna almost four years ago. Good riddance, Draco thought to himself. I hope she wrecks his fucking life! Draco sometimes forgot the fact that it was his own good fortune that Ron called off the wedding. If he hadn't, Draco wouldn't have his Loony now.

No, Luna wasn't ready for the Malfoy Pearl. But the Swinhufvud gem was just right. They could consider it a pre-engagement engagement ring; a promise of a promise. Draco knew he was good for fulfilling the pledge. He had never felt this way about any other woman before...save one.

Draco could never be sure when he and the walking Spellopedia named Granger had actually become friends. He knew it was before she almost launched her one-witch campaign against the Ministry to get him into the Auror training program. He thought it might have been that Christmas, trapped at Hogwarts as the Second War raged on outside, that she knitted (badly) a jumper for him. She said that he deserved a present too, but the truth was that her big heart couldn't stand to see him be the only Order member empty handed that year. He was sure it wasn't the time he slapped her silly for calling his father a monster. She was quite sore (literally and figuratively) for days after that incident. She had been right, but at the time Draco didn't want to hear it. No, Draco could never say for certain when the bushy haired swot that he had teased and berated all through school had become his closest friend and confidant. But he did remember the night, in vivid detail, when he figured out that he wanted to shag the living daylights out of her.

In a way he figured he had to have been unconsciously attracted to the girl back when they were younger; though he would have rather died then admit it back then. She sort of reminded him of his mother; fiercely intelligent, crafty, and obviously not above using her feminine wiles to get her own way. When Hermione threatened him with a vial of Veritaserum the night he defected to the Order, she mounted his very lap and deftly rocked herself against him to get a reaction. Of course Potty missed all of that, the blind git! Hermione taunted him with cruel threats, and when Draco vehemently denied her claim that he wanted to fuck her, she leaned down and whispered in his ear, "your wand says otherwise". He knew she wasn't talking about his beech wood. It was positively Slytherin of her and well played. Draco had to wonder if the girl had been sorted into the wrong house. Against his will, Draco's esteem of the Gryffindor went up many notches that night. But he didn't think he wanted her in his bed just then. That revelation came not too long after.

It happened a couple of weeks after what they were calling, "The Cup Incident". Hermione was wide awake and grumpier than usual, while Draco had just become a member of the Order of the Phoenix, much to the surprise of all.

It was late September and Draco felt the first chill of the season in the air as he walked around the nearly deserted Hogwarts castle late one night. Once upon a time Draco had been able to sleep like a baby secure in the knowledge that he was a little prince, and that his fairy godmother dark lord would banish all the Muggles in the world so that everything could be just right. Draco never fully realized that for this to happen some people would have to die; a great deal of people to be exact.

The point was driven home when he was called on to murder his Headmaster, an act that should have never been left to a child. Draco couldn't do it! He had always thought that Dumbledore was a dithering old fool, but that didn't mean he wanted the dithering old fool dead. Even with the fates of his parents swinging in the balance before him, Draco could not throw the Unforgivable at the professor. In fact what he had done to Katie Bell, even unintentionally, secretly weighed heavily on his conscience. Draco Malfoy was a lot of things, but he was no killer. And because of that simple fact Draco was now holed up in Hogwarts with a ragtag group of rebels who were relying on a near sighted, barely 17 year old ponce to defeat quite possibly the greatest dark wizard ever known to the magical world. Yes, Draco was having a hell of a time getting to sleep these days.

Draco decided to head up to the Astronomy Tower to think. Well technically, he went there to relive some of his former glory. Draco had become a man in that tower. Draco had also deflowered Pansy and a lovely little Ravenclaw named Su Li back in his Fifth Year there as well. This was no small feat. Most well bred witches learned at their mother's knees early that no wizard wants the mooncalf if he can get its dung for free. Luckily for him Pans and Su missed the lesson. Pepper was a slut so she just didn't care. He once tried to get his house mate Daphne up there, she had legs that seemed to go on for days, but she always seemed disinterested. Draco tried to soothe his battered ego with the knowledge that she and all her family were blood traitors and would eventually meet their preferably gruesome end at the feet of the Dark Lord.

As Draco walked out onto the ramparts of the tower, he was shocked to see that he wasn't alone. Granger, dressed in a red satiny dressing gown, was leaning against the rampart walls, her back turned to him. Briefly Draco entertained a sick dark fantasy of just pushing the cranky, know-it-all Mudblood over. No one would ever know it was him. He could almost hear the meaty splat her body would make as it hit the ground down below. He smiled to himself, before noticing the up and down jerking movements her shoulders were making. Shite! The bitch was crying.

Draco tried to silently make his way back out the door, but unfortunately for him, his shoes made a sound on the stone that attracted her attention. She whirled around to face him, face wet with tears, sporting a look of utter shock and bewilderment. Draco did not miss the fact that her wand was drawn on him. Even after she realized who her intruder was, her wand was still turned on him.

"Malfoy? What in Circe's name are you doing up?" she asked as she fiercely wiped at her face.

"I could ask you the same question, Granger," he sneered. "Although I had the good sense to put on some appropriate clothing."

Draco had changed into a pair of slacks and a shirt before he had gone wandering.

"You know, just because your bumbling buffoon of a boyfriend gets to see all of your little girlie bits; that doesn't mean that you have to subject the rest of us to such torture."

"Fuck you, Malfoy!" But she put the wand back in her gown's pocket.

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm afraid I will have to decline," he said snottily.

Draco wanted to rub his hands in glee. An enraged Hermione Granger was truly a sight to see. Her pert little nose would get all red and runny. The faint dusting of freckles across it would stand out. Her already large round eyes would appear to double in size, and the coil of tight brown spiral curls that ran riotously all over her head would nearly stand on end. Although she was of average height, when she got hacked off, like she was now, she always seemed to draw herself up in such a manner that she resembled a fierce Valkyrie. Draco wondered just how far he could push her as he swaggered out further onto the parapet.

"I've never been much of a chubby chaser myself, but I suppose if I ever get desperate enough-"

"In your dreams, Ferret!" she snarled.

"Ha! More like nightmares," he scoffed. "Actually I'm surprised that the whole castle isn't greatly disturbed by you and Weasel King's antics. You're both loud enough about it."

Although he, the Mudblood, Scarhead, and the Weasel King were all sleeping in the Head's Suite in the South Tower (neutral territory), it was a lie that he could hear the couple when they snuck off to plan "strategy". Bah! He didn't have to let her know that, though.

"BASTARD!" she barked, one hand clutching the side of her robe while the other held on to the rampart wall.

"No, my parents were married, thanks."

He grinned evilly. This was fun! That is until she broke into a fresh gale of tears

"You...I...just..." she spluttered as she turned her back to him once again. "Sod off, Malfoy! Just leave me the hell alone! Just leave me alone!"

Her shoulders shook with the great force of her sobbing.

Draco was at a loss for what to do. Although Granger was providing him with ample material to taunt her with, he could never stand the sight of a crying female. His mother tended to throw crying fits whenever she wanted his father to buy her something expensive. Pansy would give into tears whenever she felt that Draco wasn't paying her sufficient attention. But somehow Draco felt confidant that Granger didn't want either of those things. The girl was weeping as if her heart was being cleaved in half.

"Um...do you want me to get Potty or Weasleby for you?" Draco nervously asked. She shook her head firmly as she tried to control her crying.

"No. Don't bother them. Harry barely sleeps through the night as is. Don't wake them, please."

Draco slowly walked up to the rampart wall and stood next to her. Although he was looking directly at Granger, her face was turned up to the night's sky.

"The boys worry about me so. The last thing I need is for them to see me losing it like this," she said as her tears began to abate.

"Well what do you expect after that stunt you pulled with the Cup?" he asked while noticing for the first time that her plain brown eyes were actually almost a dark amber color.

"Yes, yes I know," she said tartly. "Brilliant Hermione did a really dumb thing, didn't she? I've heard that enough from Harry, Ron, Professor Lupin and Headmistress McGonagall, thank you very much. Even Hagrid wanted to get in on the act."

"Well it serves you right! You really had no idea what was going to happen to you after you drank from it. Those two dunderheads you call best mates hardly left your bedside, they were so worried. They were like little girls; little bawling girls."

"I know," she said, a hint of remorse in her voice. "But something had to be done. We really have no more leisure time to sit and wait for Voldemort to make the next move. He's playing for keeps now."

"Yes," Draco muttered bitterly, turning his gaze to the same skyline she was looking at. "I know."

She turned to look at him.

"Yes, I suppose you do," she said.

For a moment the two stood there in silence, each stewing in their own thoughts, until Draco broke it.

"For the record, I think what you did was ballsy," he said begrudgingly. "Mental. But ballsy."

Hermione cracked a small smile. He could actually hear it in her voice.

"Well gee Malfoy, I think somewhere in that insult was a compliment."

"Yes, well...don't let it go to your head."

His tone was only slightly condescending. Hermione chuckled softly.

"I wouldn't think of it."

Draco glanced over at her and saw the smile on her face slowly turn into a grimace. For the first time he wondered what had brought the girl out on this tower at such a late hour to have a cry.

"So," he queried in an overly disinterested voice, "are you going to tell me why you were blubbering up here like some stupid ninny?"

She looked at him searchingly as if trying to figure out a complex riddle.

"I mean, you don't have to if-"

"I'm scared, Malfoy," she said, cutting him off.

Draco looked at Granger as if she just told him she was going on tour with The Weird Sisters. That would have been almost as preposterous as what he had thought she said. The gutsy lioness herself, scared? He must have misheard.

"I've been up here for hours actually. I came up shortly after I got dressed for bed. I'm not sure exactly when I started crying, though," she said shrugging her shoulders. "I guess it just sort of hit me all at once. I'm fucking terrified!"

Draco was shocked at how candid Granger was being with him. He wanted her to continue talking so he silently nodded his head to assure her that she had his full attention.

"When I was 12, and first became friends with Harry, I knew that he had a great destiny to fulfill. I didn't know the specifics of it, but I knew what ever that destiny entailed I would be right by his side, helping him all the way. I would carry him if need be."

Draco tried his best to hide his amusement at the image of Hermione Granger carrying Potter the Prat on her back like some old pack mule.

"But you know what I'm starting to figure out?" she asked, voice choked in so much sorrow that Draco quickly got over the mental picture. "Some of us just might not make it out of this."

She was voicing the same fears that Draco had gone over in his own head more than a dozen times. No matter what side he chose the prospect of him dying was pretty high.

Still, Draco chose to assuage her concerns in his own way.

"Such is war, Granger."

She rolled her eyes disgustedly.

"I know that. Don't you think I know that?" she asked. "I'm fully prepared to sacrifice my own life for Harry if I have to."

Draco didn't doubt her statement.

"But I can't lose...them," she said haltingly.

Big tears started to well up in her eyes again.

"I would gladly die a million times over if it meant that I could spare Ron and Harry any pain."

Why Potty and his idiot lackey don't half-deserve devotion such as this, thought Draco to himself. He wondered what it would be like for someone to care about him so deeply.

"But that's just it," she continued. "They could die, and the realization of that fact is sending me around the twist. I'm cracking up, Malfoy," she confided in a conspiratorial whisper. She even looked over her shoulder as if she was fully expecting to see the men there ready to cart her away.

"Bah! You're not going crazy Granger."

"But I am!" she insisted strongly. "Why do you think I did what I did with that bloody cup?! My mind completely shut down, Malfoy. I...I was running off of pure adrenaline. When the three of you stood there...just stood there bitching-"

"I DO NOT BITCH!"

"...about who was going to destroy the damned thing, all I could hear in my head was a pounding voice telling me over and over again to end this, end it now. I...I didn't even know what I had done until I woke up."

Hermione dropped her head into her upturned palms. Her voice came out muffled and Draco had to inch closer just to hear the rest of what she was saying.

"My head is a mess and I can't afford for it to be that way right now."

She raised her head up and looked Draco straight in his eyes.

"I'd do anything for Harry Potter, but I'm scared that that's just not going to be enough."

Amber eyes met cold gray ones and held for a moment. Forget those daydreams of flinging the Mudblood Queen off the tower, Draco was now worried that the tortured soul would take care of that herself. And Draco knew that he couldn't allow that to happen. Hate it or not, Granger was the whole brains of this operation. Potty might be The Chosen One, but without Granger they might as well just hand themselves over to the Dark Lord tied with a neat little bow. He knew that drinking from Hufflepuff's Cup would induce dreams; he had been warned about that. He wondered what she could have seen to set her off so.

"What about you, Malfoy?" she asked, breaking Draco from his reverie. "What are you afraid of?"

Draco looked down at the girl, the rather pretty girl whose hair seemed to form a halo around her head, and weighed his answer. He could tell her that he was scared that he would never see his mother again. She was a good mum, for all her pretenses, and Draco missed her with all of his heart. The thought of never seeing her face again nearly wrecked him inside.

He could tell her that by virtue of him being a Gooder now the Light was bound to lose this war. He was a curse, an abomination. He was almost certain of this fact. People died because of him; Dumbledore, his father. The list might be short now, but he was sure it would grow.

Or he could tell her his deepest fear, that no matter what he did he would always be his father's son. Draco loved his father. All he ever wanted was the older Malfoy's approval. But Draco was smart enough to know that it was because of men like Lucius that monsters such as the Dark Lord thrived and made it possible for children to fight adult wars. Draco could tell her any of this.

"Clowns," he said instead.

Granger looked at him for one moment in slack jawed surprise, before she huffed and turned to walk away from him.

"I don't even know why I bloody well bother!" she angrily screeched.

Draco grabbed her arm to hold her in place.

"Hang on a tic," said Draco moodily. "You just can't get your knickers in a twist because you don't like my answer."

"Clowns, Malfoy? Honestly!" she retorted.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and went into her perfect Prefect pose. Her chin was held at an imperiously high height.

"Yes Granger, clowns. I can't stand the buggers! When I was seven my nanny, this great she-hulk of an Austrian my mother picked up somewhere, snuck me out of the Manor to go to a Muggle fun fair not too far from where my family lived. Grizzelda was a halfblood, so she was used to going to the things. I was so excited to be there that at first, when we walked in, I didn't even notice the grinning fool making his way towards me. That is until he got in my face. That false demonic grin still haunts me 'til this day. I got so agitated that I began unconsciously flinging people and things about. The Accidental Magic Reversal Squad probably had one hell of a mess to clean up after Zelda threw me over her shoulders and got me back to the house."

As Hermione listened to Draco's story she fought down the belly aching laugh that wanted to escape from her. She even clamped her hand over her mouth as if that could keep it in. She could almost see the blond little tyke that Draco must surely have been once losing his shite over the sight of a harmless red nose.

"Yuck it up Granger, but it really isn't all that funny! If I ever needed further proof that Muggles were dotty it's the fact that they let those painted fiends around their children," said Draco snidely. He turned around so he could lean his back against the wall and folded his arms across his chest.

At this Hermione finally let out a loud and mighty hoot. She wiped a tear of mirth from her eye.

"You do realize Malfoy that there are 3 year olds who would probably think you a bit of a chinless wonder, don't you?"

"I don't care. I still can't stand the ruddy bastards."

The two of them shared a companionable chuckle. Draco wasn't sure what a chinless wonder was, he had suspicions that it wasn't quite a compliment, but he didn't care. Standing up on that parapet, high above the world, laughing over some silly childhood fear with Granger seemed the perfect place to be at the moment. In all the craziness that had followed the attack on the school only a few months ago, he had almost feared that he would never hear real laughter again. The sound was almost balm for his soul now.

"You know I know, right?"

Draco cocked his head at her, his lips still bearing a smile. His face barely had time to change into a confused expression before she dropped a bombshell.

"I know that someone is helping you."

Draco's whole body froze. Bollocks! Bollocks! Bollocks! Bollocksy-bollock-bollocks!

"Er...I, um...don't know what you're talking about."

She smiled at Draco ruefully.

"Come now Malfoy, did you think I had somehow come over stupid all of a sudden? I've known from day one that someone was helping you. How else could you have gotten the Cup and found out how to destroy it? And how else did you know what it was, and to come to us with it?"

"I'm a fairly brilliant bloke," he said, puffing his chest out to cover up the fact that his mind was a riot inside. She knew! She fucking knew!

"While I don't doubt that," she tittered, "I also know that you knew too much about the inner workings of the Order when you first got here. No need to hide the fact. I'm pretty clever, or so they tell me."

Of course she was. She was Hermione-fucking-Granger, Draco thought to himself sourly, cleverest bitch of her age, and all that. How did they ever think they could get one past her?

"I also know that whoever this person is, they appear to be on our side. And for whatever reasons they need to keep their identity a secret..."

Draco turned to face her and stared at her intently.

"Damned good reasons," he insisted.

"Yes, damned good reasons. That's why I think it would be best if this remains our little secret for the time being."

Draco could hardly believe it; Granger was actually taking him into her confidence. Had the world gone mad?

"You mean you aren't going to mention this to your precious Potty?" asked Draco.

She bit at the corner of her lip, a pained expression on her face. It was a rather cute expression.

"Not just yet," she said slowly as if weighing her words. "We have bigger things on our plate at the moment."

Hermione then did something that almost knocked Draco on his own arse. She got up close enough to him that he could feel her breath on his face. It had a minty smell, as if she had recently charmed her teeth clean. He could also smell some flowery scent on her skin and in her hair. Her close proximity to him nearly made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"But eventually Malfoy, Harry is going to need to know about him. Bad things happen when Harry is kept in the dark."

The way she was looking at Draco, and the way she emphasized the word "him", let Draco know that she had sussed everything out.

"I understand," he said, "but as you said so yourself, there are bigger things."

She sighed.

"That there are."

The two of them stood in silence once again, each weighing their own thoughts. Then suddenly Hermione let out a long, lazy yawn and stretched her arms, feline-like, to the sky. Draco couldn't take his eyes off of her.

"Well, I think it's time for little witches to be in bed. I'm going to turn in."

Hermione walked to the exit of the parapet without a backward glance at Draco. This was fortunate since Draco spent the time admiring her nicely rounded arse. He caught himself in mid-ogle and reluctantly brought his eyes up higher.

"Um...Granger," he called.

Hermione, who had reached the door at this point, turned back to face him.

"Since we're all sharing tonight, what did you really see when you drank out of the Cup?" he asked her.

Draco didn't particularly want to hear her answer, he just wanted to keep her up on the tower with him chatting for a little while longer. He was bored, he told himself.

Hermione stared at him hard for a moment, as if weighing what she was going to say. Then all of a sudden a sad, yet endearingly pretty smile crossed her face.

"It doesn't really matter, Malfoy. It can't ever happen. I won't let it."

Draco had no clue what would make her so melancholy, but as the light of the moon crossed her face he was almost astounded at just how lovely she actually was. Had she always looked like this, or was it just a trick of the lighting, he wondered. Before he could ponder the question further, he saw her inch further out the door.

"Why don't you get some sleep too, Malfoy? I'm sure we are going to have another long day ahead of us tomorrow."

"Don't we always?" he irritably grumbled.

She merely smiled saucily.

"'Night, Malfoy. Don't let the bed pixies bite," she said huskily as she winked her eye and was out of his sight.

Draco never figured out if it was the smile or the wink that did him in, but once he was alone out on the tower he had to control the urge to plunge his hand in his trousers and have a good wank right there on the spot. Draco Malfoy had fallen in lust!

Which he found rather odd. Prior to that chilly autumn night, Draco had always thought of Granger as some sexless, sterile creature. She was scarcely a separate entity in his head. He always grouped them all together in his thoughts, pottyweaselmudblood; the Trifling Trifecta, the Troublesome Trinity. But that next day in the Great Hall during breakfast, he was so enthralled by the beauty of the girl sitting across from him that he could barely eat his porridge. Had her eyes always been that large and sparkling? Had her lips always worn that sexy little pout? Was her skin really that flawless? The ridiculous brown bush he was used to seeing on her head had suddenly transformed overnight into a mass of coppery, chestnut colored, cinnamon, and chocolate hued tendrils battling it out for dominance over her head. Draco had always prided himself on his own long and silky mane, but for the first time he truly understood the term crowning glory. She was a goddess!

Draco had quickly looked around the table to make sure he hadn't spoken the words out loud.

As a general rule everyone ate at the High Table, the table the professors sat at during the school year, although now it was placed level with the other tables so everyone could sit around it. Across from him Granger was slowly stirring her spoon in her teacup as she read softly to herself from a book entitled Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charmes she had propped on the table. Potty and the Werewolf were having some intense discussion a few seats down to his left. On the other side of the table to his right sat the brown skinned, older Weasel who was sharing a laugh with the bastard Moody and his own bumbling cousin whose hair Draco could have sworn had been neon pink just the other day. It was now an electric blue color with white streaks racing through it. Bah! He was growing weary of Potty's Merry Band of Do Gooders.

But where was King Weasel? He wasn't in his usual spot, Spellotaped to Granger's hip. Seriously, how was the poor girl supposed to breathe? And just like that, as if Draco had summoned him, the redheaded idiot came bumbling through the entrance door and worked his way up to Granger's side.

Draco watched them like a hawk. Granger, unaware of Weasel's presence, continued to read her book and stir her tea. The prat then snuck up behind her and plucked the book out of her hand. Granger, spinning around in her seat, grinned up into the face of the towering redhead when she saw it was he who had pinched her book. But her eyes didn't smile. At least Draco tried to convince himself of this, but he had to admit that he could have been inventing it. King Weasel then plopped down in the seat next to her and shyly handed the book back. For his reward she placed a soft, chaste kiss on his cheek. That made the idiot turn almost as red as his hair. They then proceeded to make cow eyes at each other. Draco consoled himself by believing that Granger was just over doing it for show. He had wanted to empty his stomach out on the table because of the display. Instead he quickly stood up from his seat, tossed a few insults at the lovebirds (and Potty for good measure), and grumpily stalked away from the table.

When Draco was 7 or 8 his mother took him into Twilfit's to buy him a dress robe for a party she was throwing. As the diminutive store owner Thimbalina Twillfit measured him, his mother's attention was caught by a family of red mopped children being led by a rather plump looking woman with similarly colored hair. The troop marched into the secondhand robe shop across the street from them. His mother turned back around to face him and said in her cultured, posh voice, "poor". She said it with the same sneer she would have uttered, "house-elf" or "Mudblood". That was the first time that Malfoy knew the Weasleys for what they were, lower than him. However nearly ten years later, a Weasley would have something that he was stunned to discover that he wanted for himself. Granger.

And he did want her! Sometimes he imagined himself rogering her good and proper all over the castle. No place was sacred; The Slytherin common room, the Quidditch Pitch, the Potions dungeon classroom, Greenhouse Number 3, the Astronomy Tower. Especially the Astronomy Tower! One time he woke up during an Order meeting surprised to see the girl looking at him queerly from across the room. Only moments before he could have sworn she had been sitting on his lap. Heh.

When he told Hermione about these fantasies some years later he was treated to a playful, yet slightly painful, swat to the head followed by a prissy declaration of "perv". They were friends by this point. That didn't negate the fact that Draco still found her quite beddable. He just wouldn't have minded cuddling afterwards by then.

For Draco, Hermione Granger became the first woman, besides his mother, that he ever respected and honestly liked as a person. And most importantly wanted to shag rotten. All at the same time! It was an interesting conundrum. He thought she was one of the most brilliant witches he would ever meet. Her knowledge of obscure potions and charms often astounded him, and she would often take standard spells and improve on them to suit her needs. Power radiated off of her in waves. Her mind came monstrously in handy when he was taking the tests to get into the Department. She would often tutor him for hours if he needed it.

Draco also discovered not too long after he joined up with the Gooders that Granger was actually quite fun to be around as long as she wasn't stressed that they were all going to die any minute. She had a clever personality and a quick witted sense of humor that could be right cheeky at times. Despite being a teetotaler, she was always good company to have if you wanted to go for a pint at the Cauldron.

And to top it all off she was sex walking! The cute little girl developed into an attractive young woman. And the most alluring part was that she didn't even seem to recognize the fact.

In actuality a bloke would probably think her plain if they just gave her a passing glance. There were far prettier faces. But Hermione Granger had more sex appeal in her pinky than half a dozen other witches combined. Sometimes Draco wondered if she had some distant veela ancestor that she wasn't aware of. He didn't know how else to explain the effect she had on some men. Maybe it was the way she would stare challengingly into a person's eyes, looking up from under hooded lids, as she talked to them. Maybe it was the naughty little way she would nibble on the corner of her full lips as she puzzled something out. It might have been the way she would throw her head back and let out a full throaty laugh, exposing mile after mile of her delectable neck, when she found something particularly humorous.

Or it could have been the arse, Draco thought. Definitely the arse. And the hips. And the thighs. And the calves. And the gloriously ample sized jubblies. Granger was all curves. Her baby fat had worked itself into a nice little pattern that gave her a drool worthy figure. In Draco's opinion her body was made for sex, a fact that she could not hide as she strode boldly through wizarding society in her Muggle clothing. He might not have that high of an opinion of Muggles, but Draco surely wanted to thank the fellow who had come up with the idea for tight, low slung designer jeans. They were truly a wondrous thing to behold! Most trendy young witches liked to be stick figure thin, tiny waistlines went well with French cut robes, but not Hermione. Despite her best efforts to slim down; eating like a bird, running in the mornings, cutting out sweets entirely, she steadily maintained her pleasingly zaftig shape. Draco didn't see why she bothered to go to all the trouble to look like all the other sickle a dozen witches anyways. In his opinion she always looked like a million galleons.

Without a doubt he was captivated by her. Sometimes he would almost get the impression that she felt something for him too. A lingering stare here, a seemingly more than platonic caress there; but he could never be sure. That is until the night of Scrimgeour's party, nearly six and a half years ago.

Rufus Scrimgeour had decided to throw a little fête for the employees at the Ministry he deemed his Rising Stars. In truth the shrewd Minister for Magic was determined to keep tabs on the heads of his various departments. He was not above using the young and impressionable new recruits under those heads to do so. Scrimgeour rented out a section of a fancy restaurant in Diagon Alley and invited a few select guests and their dates to attend.

Hermione was most definitely a star at the Ministry. She and Arthur Weasley were making great and exciting strides in the MMBA Office. She also had a formidable reputation due to the work she had done with the Order during the War. Draco figured that he had been invited because Scrimgeour wanted to make it look like there were no hard feelings about the hassle they had given him when he joined up. Bunch of divs! Nadia Fallowes was there from the Magical Creature Department, while Terry Boot and McLaggen were representing Games&Sports and Cooperation, respectively. Amy Kitterey was there for the Accident&Catastrophe Office, though unsurprisingly not one Unspeakable bothered to show their faces. Fabian Bole and Roger Davies were both movers and shakers in Transportation, but Draco knew that the only reason the latter was at this dinner party at all was because he was currently boffing the Ministry's Golden Girl.

Hermione had been going out with Davies for only a few months. Draco thought that Davies was a tosser. He was a notorious brownnoser who Draco was sure was using Hermione to improve his standing at the Ministry. However when he shared these suspicions with Hermione, she didn't seem too fussed.

"He's pretty and he's a nice distraction," she had told him in a bored sounding voice one day. "I don't really care about the rest."

"So you would have taken up with any old pretty face then?" Draco had asked, trying his best not to sound too bitter.

"Maybe," she said innocently.

She then smiled slyly at him. The woman was such a bloody tease!

Hermione took up with Davies a few months after the Weasel had dumped her. At least that's what the Prophet said, but since they seemed to take pleasure at putting Hermione down Draco paid them little heed. Although Hermione never quite gave him a solid reason for the break (we grew up, we grew apart, we grew sick of each other), Draco wasn't able to take advantage of the situation for his own ends because he was on his first go round with Pringle at the time. He had tried to dump the simpering miss once Hermione had become available, but it was no good. Pristy was determined to marry and she was determined to marry a Malfoy. She had practically invited herself to the dinner in fact. Pristy, even with her longish face, was pretty enough to turn most heads whenever she walked into a room. But to Draco, in comparison to Hermione, she didn't stand a chance.

The Golden Girl had come dressed to the gathering in a strapless silky coral colored gown with a low cut bodice. The skirt of the dress clung to her as it drifted down to the floor. It would have been a miracle for her to be able to move in it if not for the slit that started indecently high on her right thigh and allowed a luscious leg to peek through from time to time. She topped the outfit off with a pair of fashionably strappy matching heels.

When Hermione first walked into the restaurant, Draco had nearly been made speechless at the sight of so much glorious flesh. It was December so the temperature was cold. He figured she must have used a heating charm on pretty boy Davies and herself. Draco was very appreciative of heating charms. As she slid into a seat next to Draco and smiled prettily at him, he felt an overwhelming urge to punch out Davies, throw Hermione over his shoulder, and make for the nearest room with a "Do Not Disturb" sign hanging on the door knob. Who was he kidding? He would do her right there on the very table in front of Scrimgeour himself if she would let him get away with it.

Draco felt like slapping himself. He had to get over these wild fantasies of his. He decided to turn his full attention to Pristine and ignore Hermione for the rest of the evening. It almost worked too. That was until he felt Hermione go stiff beside him. He looked at her face and saw that her attention was drawn across the room at a table where two couples were being seated. One of the couples was She-Weasel and the Prat Who Lived. Unluckily the other couple was Hermione's ex and the pigeon brained tart he had been dating since the split. What was her name again, Draco tried to recall. Beige? Lavender Blue? Burgundy, was it? No, that wasn't right. All he knew was that the blonde bubblehead had been in the same year as them back at school.

Draco turned to look back at Hermione and was surprised to see that she was trembling. She wasn't quite angry, he knew full well what a hacked off Hermione looked like, but she did seem extremely upset as she gazed steadily at the two currently cozy couples. They each were so wrapped up in one another that they didn't notice the Ministry party table at all. The Weaselette was actually trying to make her way into Potty's lap so she could put her tongue down his throat.

Draco was about to ask Hermione if she was ok when suddenly she rose up from her seat and fled across the floor in her high, click clacking heels. For a moment Draco wasn't even sure what had happened. No one at the table even blinked an eye at the brunette's hasty departure. Her boyfriend was too busy forcing all of his nose up Scrimgeour tight arse. Her friends were in their own world and probably didn't even know that she was in the same restaurant. Draco quickly got up from his chair and made for the direction that Hermione had gone. Pristy was so busy being entertained by the overgrown behemoth McLaggen, that she didn't pay Draco's exit the slightest attention.

Draco eventually found himself in a dimly lit hallway walking pass a door that said Witches and another one that said Wizards. He could smell Hermione's scent nearby. Chanel No.5, she once told him. He had gone into Muggle London and purchased a bottle of the fragrance for Pristy, but it never quite smelled the same on the redhead; like a mix of wildflowers, newly bought parchment, and Indian ink. This was the scent that was getting stronger and stronger as Draco continued to walk down the hall as it veered right.

"Hermione?" he asked tentatively. "Are you back here?"

Draco heard not a peep, although he was certain that Hermione was indeed near. Only the month before Shacklebolt, one of his trainers at the Department, had taught Draco's Auror class the subtle signs of detecting a Disillusionment Charm. It was one of those times when you really had to rely on your senses instead of your wand. He could hear the faint ruffle of silk on skin. He imagined he could almost hear the soft staccato beat of a heart that wasn't his own. As he neared the end of the hall, he suddenly turned to his right and stuck his hand out. He came in contact with something warm and firm, yet at the same time deliciously squidgy. He had his hand on Hermione Granger's silk draped breast.

"Get your bloody hands off of me Draco Malfoy before I hex them into hooves!"

Draco reluctantly pulled back his hand.

"You can be such an enormous prat sometimes, you know!" Hermione said irritably as she cast the charm to make herself visible.

Seconds later Draco was looking into a set of furious eyes. The lovely dark amber that fascinated him seemed to turn a murky shade that went well with her cheesed off expression.

"What the bleeding hell do you think you're doing, feeling me up like that?!" she yelled as she dropped her wand down the front of her dress.

Lucky wand!

"No need to throw a wobbly, Pet," Draco said nonchalantly. "I just came out here to make sure you were ok. That's what friends do."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Gee Draco, thanks for the lesson. I don't know how I ever got along before without you sharing your worldly wisdom."

"Now see here you, no need to get all shirty with me!" he said barely holding back the aggravated tone in his voice. "I was just worried about you."

"Well you needn't be. I'm a big girl, thanks," she said nastily. "I just came out here because I needed to go to the loo."

"Oh of course," snickered Draco condescendingly. "That's all it was. Had nothing to do at all with a certain wanker who walked in."

Hermione's eyes went up two sizes when he said this.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said.

But she knew. He could tell by the way her teeth went to work on her bottom lip!

"Come now Hermione, you are far too smart to play dumb. I saw Weasley and that little blonde tart of his walk in. You don't have to pretend with me."

Hermione looked at him oddly for a second before shaking her head and leaning back dejectedly against the hard sea foam green wall.

"Go away, Draco," she said miserably as she threw her head back. "You have no clue what you're talking about."

Draco took a step towards her.

"I don't, do I?" he asked. "Weasley only dropped you like so much rubbish, and is currently tap dancing all over your heart. Beside that fact, you still love the jackarse. Am I right?"

"Draco," Hermione said in a pained voice, "you don't understand. I almost don't understand!"

She turned her head to the side and willed herself not to cry.

"It's not Ron. Not really."

"I know what it's like," he said getting so close to her that he could count every single freckle on her nose.

His voice was low and thick, choked up with an emotion he was afraid would over power him soon if he wasn't careful.

"I know what it's like to want someone, even though you know that person might never feel the same way about you."

Hermione turned her large round eyes to him. Though she struggled to remain aloof, a riot of emotions played themselves on her face. Fear, confusion, loneliness, but most importantly there was relief. Sweet relief. Draco did know what she was going through.

"I know what it's like to try and talk yourself out of what you know you feel."

Hermione slowly closed her eyes as Draco's words washed over her.

"And most importantly, I know what it's like to think you'll go mad if you never tell."

Her eyes opened wide in surprise as she let out a gasp. Draco's right hand had somehow found its way to her left shoulder and was gently kneading it. She looked up into his eyes and nervously swallowed as she saw them burning with desire, desire for her. She chuckled awkwardly trying to defuse the situation before Roger or Pristine came out into the hall. Or worse, Harry and Ron.

"Methinks you've mistaken my friendship for something else, Draco," she said coyly.

"No," he drawled as he gave a purposeful squeeze to her shoulder, and for his effort, watched Hermione swallow again. "I think I know exactly what this is."

He placed his body slightly against hers and dropped his head down against her forehead. Their noses were almost touching.

"We can not do this, Draco," Hermione whispered, her voice sounding very fragile. She seemed to be having trouble breathing.

"Why not?" he asked enticingly as the hand at her shoulder slowly crept into her hair.

"Damn, damn, damn..." she whispered as Draco's thumb began to slowly rub at her temple. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as they closed.

"I want you, Hermione. Merlin only knows how much I want you! I have for a long time."

She opened her eyes and looked at him intensely. He realized then that she had known how he felt all along.

"And I know you want me too," he pressed boldly. "If you didn't, you would have had your wand out ages ago."

Hermione stifled the meek denial she was going to make. He was right, in a way. She could have stopped it a long time ago, months ago if she had wanted to. The problem was some sick, twisted part of her reveled in seeing someone else suffer the same Hell she continuously occupied.

But Hermione honestly never thought it would go this far.

She grabbed his wrist to stop his hands movement.

"No, Draco. We could never work. We just won't fit," she said firmly.

By this time Draco was inching his lips towards her neck.

"I think we could fit just fine," he said in as he began to trace his other hand up the inside of her barely covered thigh. It was about to go up her dress. "If you give it a chance."

"And then what?"

Draco stopped what he was doing and looked into her eyes, a bewildered expression on his face. His hand, however, remained on her thigh.

"Why won't you just let this happen?" he pleaded childishly. His hand left her hair and he placed his palm on the wall next to her head instead.

"You didn't answer the question, Draco. And then what?" she questioned him again as she tried to inch her body closer to the wall, arms hanging limp at her sides. "We shag once. Probably enjoy it. Shag again."

"Yes, and?" he asked in a terse, obstinate voice.

"And we might even get together."

Draco removed his hand from her thigh and brought both of them to her face. He looked at her beseechingly.

"Would that be so bad?"

Hermione's eyes burned from the achings in her heart. It was all there to read if anyone took the time to do so; desperation, anxiety, fear, reluctance and something else. Regret?

"No," she said. "Not at first, at least. We'd probably have a few wonderful months of dinners, and dancing, trips to the cinema, picnics. And then inevitably it would all come to an end."

"You don't know that," he countered. "You don't, Hermione. The Know-it All doesn't always have the answer. We could be perfect together. I...I care for you."

Draco hadn't even realized the truth of his words until he spoke them. But he knew he didn't want to take them back. He was tired of the charade.

"I care for you so much, Hermione."

"And I care about you!" she exclaimed, grabbing his wrists in a tight grip. "Just not like this. That's why I know this could never happen. When it would eventually end, and trust me it will; I would end up losing you. Us. This thing we have between us. You would come to hate me because I could never give you what you wanted."

Draco felt as if he was drowning in desperation.

"Are you confusing me with Weasley now? I'm not him, Hermione. This is different!"

"Is it?" she asked. "Ron and I were the best of friends until we let a relationship bugger it all up! Things are so weird between us now. Our flat is like a war zone. Why poor Harry-"

"FUCK POTTER!" Draco shouted angrily.

He wrenched himself from Hermione's hold and backed away from her. He was so angry that he felt as though he couldn't even look at her face. He turned his back to her.

"This isn't about Harry-bloody-Potter. Not everything is about Potter!"

"No," she said, voice strained, "it's not."

Thankfully his back was turned so he couldn't see her face.

She crossed the short distance between them. She wrapped her arms around his waist and placed her right cheek against his well toned back. He tensed at her touch.

"It's about me being selfish. And not wanting to lose a friend. A friend who I didn't ask for..."

Draco grunted.

"Merlin knows I didn't ask for, but who I got nonetheless. You are my friend Draco. A friend I've been through Hell and back with, a friend that I couldn't bare to lose."

A few tears fell from her eyes and soaked through his slate blue robes.

"You mean that?" Draco asked in a thick voice.

He felt her gently nod her head against him. He turned to face her, wrapping his own arms around her waist and pulling her flush against him.

"Can we at least be dear friends with benefits?" he asked innocently.

"Honestly!"

She slapped his arm. One day he was going to be black and blue if she kept that up.

Draco chuckled.

"You can't blame a bloke for trying, can you?"

She giggled as she pulled Draco into a bear hug. He couldn't help putting his face in her hair and breathing in its jasmine scent.

"You know it could have been brilliant," he whispered into her ear.

"I think this is brilliant," she said pulling back from him and looking him squarely in his eyes. She meant it.

"Yes, well...I guess it is."

They stood there for a moment, gazing regretfully at one another, before Draco loosened his hold around her and grabbed her left hand.

"Let's head back in. I think Cormac McLaggen is trying to make off with my date," he said making her laugh.

They began to walk back up the hall, their linked hands swinging freely between them.

"I wouldn't be surprised. The man is a sex fiend, though he could do better."

"Come now Pet; jealousy does not become you," Draco teased.

"Jealous?!" she exclaimed. "Of that cow? Please! If she turns sideways she's liable to slip right through a crack!"

Draco guffawed. They were almost to the door.

"No Draco, I can't say that I am envious of a girl who prides herself on the fact that her weight and her I.Q. match, thanks," Hermione said in that tart little voice that always made his John Thomas stand to attention like it was doing now.

Thank Merlin for robes!

"You could do so much better than her. I don't know why you let your mother bully you into dating these prissy little bints. I swear if you would just..."

Before she could heat up on one of her favorite topics to lecture him on, his sex life, he stopped her at the door of the restaurant's main room and turned her to face him.

"Are we ok, I mean..."

He knew he couldn't help the fact that he still was attracted to her, that he still wanted to know her spirit and her body in every possible way that the law would allow, but he also knew that he would rather die than do anything to endanger their friendship. He hoped his momentary slip hadn't done that.

As if knowing that he needed the extra added assurance, Hermione squeezed his hand and said, "We're ok."

For years Draco would play that scene over and over in his head. He knew something had held Hermione back at the time. Sure her reluctance was partly because she felt that they had a good thing going in the dynamics of their relationship. She was telling the truth when she said she was scared that adding sex to the mix would ruin it. But Draco sensed something else, something deeper that Hermione wasn't willing to share with him. He wondered if Hermione was even aware of it.

At first he assumed it was that she still loved King Weasel, but wasn't willing to admit it. He wasn't surprised; no one really was, when the two sweethearts got back together later that summer. But he quickly changed his mind when they broke up again just a few months after the reunion. Draco began to wonder just what their problem was. It was like they couldn't figure out if they really wanted to be with each other or not. No, it wasn't Weasley. But whatever that unnamed thing was, it didn't stop Draco from still wanting her. For Draco, the platonic lines that were drawn around their friendship would get blurred time and time again until Hermione finally ran away from England.

Draco never felt the same way about another woman until he finally found himself with his Loony Love. Up 'til then he had dated gaggles of attractive witches. Women threw themselves at the sexy Slytherin on a daily basis. He dated women from the office. He dated women he met out at local pubs. He dated women his mother set him up with. He dated Pristy so often that the woman naturally assumed that she was destined to be the next Mrs. Malfoy. She even went so far as to have the engagement announcement written up and ready to owl over to the Prophet as soon as Draco popped the question. Unfortunately for her, all of that hard work had been in vain. He unceremoniously chucked her for Luna as soon as he got the chance. Hermione had been right; the stupid bint wasn't that bright.

In Luna Draco found what he had been searching for without even knowing it. Luna met all of his needs, physically and emotionally. She challenged him, whether it was debating the existence of her beloved snorkacks, or opening his eyes to the prejudices that his parents instilled in him and he unwittingly still held. She took care of him, making sure he was warmly dressed in the winter, or properly fed at night. She made him laugh; with her, never at her. Luna was his lover, but most importantly Luna was his friend.

And Luna was the woman he believed he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

"'Scuse us, buddy."

Draco was roused from his deep thoughts and turned to see a squat, scruffy man in a brown bowler hat and matching patched robes staring at him irritably.

"Wha-"

"Your blocking the way, Guv'."

"Sorry," Draco said as he turned his back to the window he had been staring absently into, and stepped back to allow the man to pass. The fellow walked by, still brassed off.

Draco watched him walk away before turning back to the display. Draco wasn't sure how long he had been standing in front of Magical Moments. He was certain that when he got back to the office Potter would be none too pleased to find out that he had not made head way on their case. He would also be annoyed to learn that Draco had spent all day in Hogsmeade for no good reason. But Draco didn't care! This was his life he was deciding here. By buying that ring he was about to make a huge, monumental move. If Luna wasn't quite ready yet to be the next Mrs. Malfoy, he believed that he was at least ready to let her know that he wanted her in his life long term. He was prepared to wait for her, fight for her. He loved Luna. He was certain of the fact. Even if sometimes, late at night with his Loony Love fast asleep and curled in his arms, he still remembered amber eyes.

Draco walked into the store.

A/N: Next up is Harry's POV. Things to look forward to; a look into domestic doldrums, a visit with the Dursleys, Harry walks in on something he had rather not have seen, and the reason for his strange dreams is revealed.

A few more points of interest...

1) All characters other than Elias Stonefeather, Cady Cadmus, Cloinda Forbes, Desmond Forbes, Sarah Moon, Auror Whitmer, Heinz Andrews, Winnona Bettany, Pepper Warrington, Lucretzia Boothe, Pristine Pringle, Grizzelda, Thimbalina Twilfit, Nadia Fallowes, Amy Kitterey, and scruffy man in bowler hat are canon.

2) Swinhufvud is a Swedish noble name that translates to pig/hog head. I love the Internet!

3) 250 galleons equals to about £1250/$2442.50

4) According to Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them an abraxan is an extremely large, winged Palomino. A manticore is a monstrous creature capable of intelligent speech, but is terribly violent. It has the head of a man, a body like a lion, and a tail like a scorpion. A Peruvian Vipertooth is a small breed of dragon with venomous fangs that is native to Peru. An erumpent is a magical creature that resembles a rhinoceros and is native to Africa. A mooncalf is a strange creature that only comes out when the moon is full and whose silvery dung makes an excellent fertilizer.

5) The International Seer newspaper, Potter's Posse, The Haggling Hag pub, the mugumpwa, the Magical Moments shop, the Malfoy Pearl, and the Swinhufvud ring are all original to this story.

Tell me if you like it. Tell me if you hate it. Just tell me something. Please review.