Life and Times
Rating: R
Ship: HHr (main emphasis)
The (unlovely) procedure: all rights go to JKR for previous plot and characters, Scholastic, Warner, and whoever else has their hands in HP.
Author Note: Something so nightmarishly disastrous has happened, and our Hero didn't return to our Heroine.
***
Chapter Forty-One - Funeral
***
THE DAILY PROPHET
MINERVA GUINEVERE MCGONAGALL DEAD
Minerva Guinevere McGonagall, age 75, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was found dead last night by a Ministry Task Team. Found in her home in Edinburgh, officials within the Ministry are not saying how she died or time of death. Our sources here at the Daily Prophet have told us that Obliviators were on scene and that the Dark Mark appeared over eastern Edinburgh where her home is located. All discussions point towards a Killing Curse used. Having never married, she was alone when she died. People are already pondering as to why our Ministry is keeping such a tight lid on the death. A member of the "Order of the Phoenix," Minerva Guinevere McGonagall became suspect to Death Eater threats. The Prophet is questioning the potency of the Aurors who keep our society safe, or supposedly as the death of such a priority tells all. The Prophet has always questioned the ties, interior and exterior motives, of our Minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Our Minister left the country recently to pay a visit to the States. In times of crisis, we all would think our country's reconnaissance would come first. One must remember Mary Queen of Scotts when one thinks about our current top officials. The masses are getting behind the notion, a rising voice to overthrow our more than lackluster Minister and his subclass cronies.
In new polls done by our sister cover, Witch Weekly:
Do you find fault with the Ministry in how our society is being run?
Yes - 53%
No - 43%
Unsure - 4%
Do you find fault with the Minister in how our society is being run?
Yes - 46%
No - 38%
Unsure - 16%
Read more about our current administration and what it hasn't done for us on page three.
Gus Perwinsky
Writer
Rita Skeeter
Chief Editor
Page 1
***
The Quibbler
Our Beloved Sister, Professor and Headmistress McGonagall
Anyone who has ever traipsed the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry mourns a cherished soul today. Anyone who has ever known Miss McGonagall, friends, family, relatives seek answers as to why such a caring, loving soul had to leave our presence. In a darkening world, a light like Miss McGonagall was one in a million. I, Luna Lovegood, and the rest at The Quibbler reach out to everyone, arm-in-arm, as we mourn Minerva Guinevere McGonagall. A lucky one, I knew Miss McGonagall. She was my sister, but more than that, she was one of my best friends. She was there when anybody needed her and a confidant to many. She worked tirelessly at her crafts, her teaching being utmost important. I once heard her tell her students, "It is my life's duty to educate each of you for you all are our future. I will not let you down." She touched me in so many ways and I've grown, become a better person for it and in knowing Miss McGonagall. She will be missed and we will never forget. She graces, now, in the clouds of peace.
Our issue today as you have already noticed has been coloured not in our usual rainbow variety, but tinted in opaque black in white type on our recycled paper. We mourn, and dedicate today's paper to Miss McGonagall. Each page tells her story and the unequivocal goodness she brought to all.
Luna Lovegood
Writer
Chief Editor
P.1
***
Channel 9, WNN. McCrady's Corner
"I actually was a student at Hogwarts. I took her class, Transfiguration… This was before she became the Headmistress after Headmaster Dumbledore died."
"For those just waking up and tuning in," speaks Erin McCrady into the camera at her clear circular desk. Outside, one can see people walking by the windows of the building as the people of Violet Hill go about their typical morning routines. "This is Erin McCrady and this is McCrady's Corner. We heard early this morning by Ministry officials that the Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, or more known as Professor Minerva McGonagall, has been found murdered in her flat in Edinburgh. No other information has been given to us other than hints that there may have been several Obliviators at the scene after it happened and the possibility of a Dark Mark seen floating over the city. We're waiting right now for the Minister, who was in the middle of visiting Washington D.C., to break into our coverage to give a brief statement on what has unfolded. I'm sitting here across the desk from radio host and syndicated radio host, Lee Jordan, we all know from Wizard Watch, 211.7 WM."
Lee, in suit and tie, nods solemnly and at his welcoming. "Happy to be here with everyone."
"Today is just…a sad, sad day."
"It really is eye-opening, I mean, we got Him. We got Him, and yet, these rats still run and kill, take hostage, demand and promote this entity of hatred," Lee sighs and shrugs in his sluggish posture. "I'll never understand. I don't think anyone right now understands. Maybe one day the skies will open up and we'll all `get it'. I hope they get the bastards who have done this."
"As I, and I'm sure everyone else agrees," Erin shuffles her notes and peers back at Lee. "What do you make of Headmaster Dumbledore's painting having gone missing? Rumors are going around saying that professors at Hogwarts have already gone into the school with Ministry officials to investigate any leads and the enormous picture of the Headmaster has vanished."
"I really don't know. Maybe it was misplaced?"
"Every other painting in the castle is there, or at least that's the rumor. The Ministry is keeping everything shut down. Almost every bit of info we get is more or less rumors, but thank Merlin Hogwarts is out for summer holiday. Could you imagine?"
"And, I'm glad the Minister is keeping everything low key. Okay, so we know Death Eaters are behind the murder. Okay, we find them, string their sorry arses up and make them pay. The only information the public needs to know is there are still demons on the loose and they need their indoctrinated heads lopped off!"
Erin adjusts an ear piece by her lobe and makes a gesture off-screen. "Okay, it seems the Minister is about to begin. The picture is being put up…"
A new picture of a podium, the Ministry symbol "M" on it, and numerous flags from all major countries are present behind the podium.
"Any moment now the Minister is set to come on," says Erin in voiceover. The words, `Minister Shacklebolt from the United States capitol' appear on-screen, below the podium at the centre. A tall, thin man in thick plum robes walks into view and braces the podium.
"And, here is our Minister. Our original broadcast of this devastating news will be back shortly. For now, let's listen in."
"Citizens, my friends, to everyone," Kingsley, in his fatherly, deep, authoritarian voice calls out. His dark eyes stare with empathy, with sadness, the wrinkles with aging vividly apparent, nearly scar-like. "I'd like to say, first and foremost, that Miss Minerva McGonagall was a very dear friend of mine. I've known the kind, generous woman my entire life. She was like a mother, a mother to all of us, and never stopped trying to help her neighbour. What has happened today will not go unpunished. Justice will be served. The safety of everyone is my top priority. Right now, Aurors across the world are rounding up the sickening evil souring civility. Since Voldemort's fall, we have tried and sentenced thousands of criminals and we will find and capture a thousand more. Good will always triumph over evil. In times like this, however, we must remember to maintain vigilance, look out for our neighbours like Minerva, and remember we are all joined together as brothers and sisters. We are the good people of Great Britain. We are the good people of world. We will always remember and fight for what we know is just!"
***
Neville broke the news to us.
He lit up the fireplace brilliantly, and at first I thought it was Harry.
A delighted surprise…to…
He told us Kingsley had asked him personally from the States to give us what would be happening. This all surmised quickly, and I hadn't yet woke up, nevertheless digested the fact that Headmistress…Professor…mother…friend… All I remember was Ginny beside me and we were both knelt in front of a crisp outline of Neville's features in white-hot ash.
"He wants the Headmistress's burial done now," Neville explained. He performed quite admirably, trying to contain the sadness Gin and I expressed forthright. I had my arms draped around Gin and wept into the crook of her neck. I could feel her rub my head and Crookshanks nuzzling against my leg. "He fears there may be something worse if it's large scale…with so many people…easy targets… The funeral will take place outside of Hogwarts…come to the Ministry…I'll be waiting in the Commons…a portkey…the Headmistress will be placed in a tomb on Hogwarts's hallowed grounds at a future date…"
Is it wrong of me to not be taken by the rain anymore?
I didn't even care for an umbrella.
My hair soaked, darkening those curls to black.
The deluge hit my black trench coat, making it heavy and wet.
My black trousers stuck to my legs and standing there, over Minerva's closed white casket I could feel my sopping wet socks.
The funeral was tiny just like Kingsley wanted.
Morbidly, it felt like a reunion as the majority of those witnessing were those I closely knew, but some were those I saw as I walked the hallways. Luna was on my right. She held my arm as my hand was in my coat pocket, my fingers tightly knotted while I clenched my fist. Gin was on my left. She hadn't said a word since we left, stone-faced. Cho stood with her, hand-in-hand. Neville was opposite of us with George and Angelina, and Dean. Lee Jordan showed up. Arthur was near that group without Molly. I didn't know why she hadn't showed up with him, but if it had been because of me or Ginny she could very well go to Hell. Hagrid could be heard groaning underneath the repetitious claps of thunder. Oliver was with him, coaxing to console. Professor Flitwick was missing; though, I made an educated guess as to where he may be. Curiously, Draco showed up near the end of our silent remembrance. I gave him a brief smile, as I did everyone, but he remained isolated from the whole…much as he always had in the past. He stood with a cane so much like his father. Tagging along with him was Pansy, their arms locked together.
I didn't see Ministry officials, Aurors, any specialty teams…but, I knew they were watching from somewhere.
Everyone had been given a red rose. Mine was in my left hand. The grass greener than it ever was before, I stayed my distance while the others placed their rose atop the casket and walked off in their pairs or groups. Gin had left my side. She walked up to the casket with Cho and placed her rose on the growing bunch. I couldn't see her face, a hat covering, but I had my own reeling thoughts to contend with. I had my own travesty to deal with and I couldn't worry about any other soul but mine, and my mate's.
A cold draft blew when I stepped onto the crunchy blades of earth, the toes of my trainers sagging into the muddy grounds. Alone, Luna left me for my peace and solitude, respectfully. I bent down, knees scuffing the mud beneath and sat with my rose in my lap. I don't know why I put the mascara around my eyes. It burned me, but in a way, I needed to feel that pain. Nothing felt real. The colder it got, the more obvious everything felt. I didn't need to be pinched. Alone. Deaths. Loved ones.
Harry didn't come.
I waited for him, and he didn't come.
He didn't tell me a time, just, "the morning".
Well, I knew it was…semantically early morning…but morning, nonetheless.
He hadn't come.
And, the Reaper had taken another of us.
I sat there and reflected on my surrogate mother, a figure I'd looked up to and never wanted to fail. She lay there inside. She would never, ever wake up. Gone, and to a better place. Somewhere. It just had to be. Had to be somewhere so utterly mirrored from this forsakenly cold world. I closed my eyes and it was like I was there, in her class, raising my hand, asking questions, Minerva applauding me, rewarding that eager want to learn. I saw her take me in, all of us in, protect us from harm and the evils of the world. I saw her crippled, a few months ago, limping those same hallways and corridors after Headmaster Dumbledore's death. Display of courage, bold, daring courage…love… And, now, all of it gone in a blink of an eye.
The saline of my tears mixed evenly with the drops of rain which hit my cheeks.
My head tilted back to let the weather drown the tears, I let it drop forward, and in that moment let the rose fall alongside the others.
I clutched my knees, fell forward and cried.
The rain beat upon me like tiny hammers, my back sore with the exhaustive weight of accomplishments and defeats.
I was bruised, physically, emotionally, psychologically.
I gave up.
I give up.
You win.
"YOU WIN!!!" I screamed out into the storm.
The hammers ceased, and I swore for a second I'd left the earth myself.
I think I died.
This couldn't have been good for my heart.
Everything stopped.
I could hear the rain pattering around me, but no rain hit me.
I eased up and looked around, startled and scared.
I could feel the weather, its essence still clinging tight to my body, so I was…awake, but in a…dream-like state of mind.
I glanced up at the sky, and when I did felt someone's hand on my right shoulder.
Warm hand.
Soothing hand.
His hand.
My eyes grew with shock.
I flipped around, twisting my torso and all to want to see him, to hope to see him, but he hadn't showed up…
But there Harry was.
There he was!
Scruffy with a beard and more length in his hair from those long days away, he stooped down to my height. His glasses, his eyes reflected his remorse. He wore a suit like the men, held an umbrella over my form and let the rainwater attack him while he sheltered me.
I clamored for him.
My hands, my arms around his neck I felt of him.
Solid.
Warm.
Beats of his perfect heart.
Breaths from his perfect lungs.
He helped pick me up from the ground and kept that umbrella over me, and now, us.
I let everything, every little bit of me out.
I yelled into a wail, my face in his chest, my nose and mouth squished up against him.
He held me, as I clutched, squeezed, and clawed at his coat with my fingers, pulling the very fabric from its own taut cling of his figure… And, that was all I wanted.
Harry was with me…
Again.
***
There was this abandoned shack on the hill near where we had the funeral.
A safe-house of sorts, we all gathered there to get out of the rain and to mingle before leaving to live our lives once more, independently or together.
People, more or less, left me and Harry alone. They knew as if there were large billboard signs plastered on every bloody corner the present history. Briefly, they'd wander over, say hello's, give us hugs, other greetings and general question's ranging from, "How you been, mate?" to "When are you going to take a razor to that monster?" I let them amuse Harry, but after a while we were alone again in our separate corner of the room.
I had my hands deep inside his trench coat pockets. Deep, and controlled, he wasn't about to leave me side for a second. I became instantly obsessed, my drug. I watched him without a single blink. He seemed older, looked older, dark bags under his eyes and a wrinkle carved into his forehead. It hadn't looked like he'd gotten sleep in the month we were apart. Christ, I wonder what I looked to him. He never took his eyes off mine, gently taking a towel to my hair to dry it, the wild, bushiness becoming increasingly apparent. He took the towel and patted my coat down, starting around my neck where he lightly squeezed my shoulders, arms, torso, and back. When he reached behind me, I came in and embraced him tightly, my eyes closing while he rubbed the arch he found.
I smelled him before, but smelled him strongly of that pumpkin. I was sure the separation made his scent ten times more lethal, but it was also ten times more therapeutic, and warm. I rubbed my face into him, hiding amongst his chest and pulled at his coat without thinking. I heard him lightly laugh and I smiled, purring like a kitten which had found its catnip.
"You are such a woman, my love," he whispered into my ear.
I could hear the small talk in the distance of the others.
With my eyes still closed, I grinned and replied in whisper, "I've missed you so much… It's almost like, this isn't real…"
I felt him kiss the top of my head.
I sighed in smiles and leaned back to look at my man. The bruise around his eye had turned brownish, like a birthmark, a scar more evident across his brow. The eyelid itself slightly sagged compared to its twin, but he was beautiful. So handsome, and so…Harry.
"A medical team took a look at the eye after Kingsley expressed concern," he said as he saw me observing the change. I tightened my embrace of him and lay my head back on his chest. "He thought it may become blind after the trauma, some sort of buildup behind the optic, so the Ministry did a little work."
"You're absolutely gorgeous…," I exclaimed proudly, and in truth. "I love you."
"I'm not worthy of you."
"You're worthy of every bit of me, inside and out," I retorted plainly.
"I left you," He sighed.
Tilting back, I blinked to see him. "…You had to do what had to be done. I love you more after you stuck to your convictions. You didn't let Kingsley down, and you've never let me down."
"All I want to say is," He began, gently sliding his hands up and down the curves of my sides. "Is it won't happen again. I told every person I came into contact with, including Kingsley, that I couldn't do this anymore. That, I couldn't leave your side. There was too much at stake, and after a while I couldn't think of anything more than you."
"I hope I wasn't a distraction. You had to-"
"No," He smiled beneath his beard. "You are my pleasant distraction. Without you my sanity would have broken years ago."
Relieving my arms from his waist, I slid them about his neck. I stretched them out, pushing myself against him in a way I'm sure I'd blush about in afterthought, but right then I couldn't have cared less. "I want to kiss you," I said this low, in a raspy tone. Our eyes, noses, and lips were but an inch away. I could feel his warm breath.
"Kiss me," he said, and it was more like a grunt, too.
"But, is it… would it…," I closed my eyes, shook my head, and reopened them. "After…"
"You define the term `respectful'," Said Harry with honesty in his eyes, commitment in his speech. "There should be nothing shameful by any of your actions."
My body's weight, supported by his, lay on him vertically. Tilting my head to one side, I slowly moved in, as he did, and felt softness, and then the memories take me. My eyes gently fluttered. It was like…that other life, something lost for so long having been found by accident. My heart leapt, and I swore I melted; thankfully, Harry had his strength upon my slender waist or I'd have fallen right to the floor.
The kiss wasn't long, and in those few seconds it felt more than a "welcome back".
It was a, "welcome home".
"Oi!" A burly, bear tone startled us and we both jumped in our boots. I'd begun to nuzzle Harry's cheek when I had to find my heart on the floor, having it pop from my chest by such a fright.
"Terribly sorry. Just my luck. I'll let you kids alone." It was Hagrid carrying a sack one would see if running away from home tied to a stick. An enormous picnic cloth swung in his hands.
Harry laughed at Hagrid's face turning as violet as his violet-and-yellow ochre striped tie. "It's all right, Hagrid. It happens to the best of us."
After retrieving my heart, I let out a sigh and smiled at the pacing Hagrid. "Hagrid, come back!"
He saunter on back, his eyes shut as if to continue letting our privacy be, but eventually peeked open an eye. "Is it all right, really?"
"Of course," stated Harry. We'd loosened our grip to give Hagrid the sense to stay, but are hands and fingers still mingled with their nonverbal communications. He obviously had something on his mind, and something in his hands. "What's on your mind, Hagrid? Anything I can do?"
"Anythin' you can do?!" Hagrid laughed so loud it shook the shack covering our heads. Everyone chatting immediately shut up. "O' Harry, always the kidder. Here, this ain't much, but I brought these in case everyone was hungry. `Bout a day old, but still good."
He reached into the sack and gave Harry one of his old, secret recipes; food Hagrid shared with us with tea when we'd go and meet with him at Hogwarts.
A fruity rock cake.
"Aw, thank you, Hagrid!" I watched Harry slip his hands beneath the heaviness of the fruitcake and smile in return.
"That was very thoughtful of you, Hagrid."
"Ah, shucks…," He grinned, blushing. "It were nothing, nothing at all. Just thought of ya, tha's all."
After a pause, he said in haste, "Oh, er, uh-I'll let you two kids alone now. I'll hope to see you at Hogwarts in the fall, `Arry?"
Harry nodded, "Wouldn't miss it for the world."
"Don't be a stranger, now!"
As Hagrid left, Harry took a chunk off and handed it to me. Even for such a fraction of what he still held, the piece was with weight. I bit into it and my teeth hit a nugget of fruit, and hard like a rock it was. I winced, but didn't allow anyone but Harry to see me.
Harry chuckled a little, "You okay there?"
I shook my head, "It's the thought that counts."
"Yeah, he's always looking out for us."
"He does," I turned to see Hagrid bumbling back towards Oliver and Dean. He had his back to us, but I smiled.
When I turned back around, I had Ginny in my face.
I had to take a step back to gather her in her entirety.
"Ginny?"
"Did you ask him questions, Mi?!"
She was spooked, loud, angry… She had her wand out and Cho was behind her.
Cho's eyes were wide as mine were, and I didn't understand her sudden insensitivity.
"Ginny, what in Merlin's name are you-"
She grabbed Harry by his coat's collar and shoved him up against the wall. The thud of his body being slammed shook the talking up again, and anyone still inside the shack immediately withdrew to look at what was going down.
Even Lee, who had popped outside for a smoke, peeked in at the new ruckus.
I grabbed Ginny's arm and yanked her away from Harry so hard I thought I'd taken her arm from its socket.
But, Gin pushed me away and pierced her wand's tip in the soft portion underneath Harry's jaw. "While everyone's going about this like nothing has ever happened, I want to know!"
"Ginny! What in God's name are you talking about?!" I screamed and fought her away, or tried to. Her strength to push me back every time was immense.
"Gin, he's Harry!" cried out Cho.
"We won't fucking know until he's been asked questions!" Her eyes went to slits and she squinted, snarling at Harry. "And believe me, I swear I'll use the Killing Curse. I'm not afraid of using it by any means necessary…"
"For goodness sake's, it's him! It's Harry!" my voice cracked within Harry's name through the shrill.
"It's fine, Hermione! It's fine!" Harry tried to sell me this, but I saw it as nonsense. I didn't give a rat's arse what anyone thought. Who stood in this shack, which stood beside me, who kissed me with intrinsic delicacy, was Harry James Potter and not some imposter!
"The acronym, `DA'-what does it stand for!?"
"Dumbledore's Army," answered Harry.
I continued to try and pry myself between Gin and my fiance with luck not with me.
She kept pushing me away as if I were some annoying fly.
"How many of us were there?!"
"Twenty eight," answered Harry again, his eyes set upon Gin's fire.
"The first spell-what was it!?"
"Expecto Patronum." Harry remained controlled as if he knew this would happen, like he'd been expecting it.
"Gin, please!" I tried yanking her away again, and got her off him a second, but that angered her even more.
The poison within her veins had her hit me backward. "This is for your own good, Hermione!" she said, her wand thrust now against Harry's chest, above his heart.
I started crying, my hands tugging the angle of her wand arm.
Harry looked at me with such concern… He never wanted me to cry.
Her focus went back to Harry. "WHAT WAS HERMIONE'S PATRONUS?!?!!"
"An otter," replied Harry with sincerity, his eyes flittering back to me. I hated how he was being persecuted, interrogated as if he were some animal.
He was Harry for Christ's sake!
I'd had enough
I gritted my teeth.
Growled from my throat.
Found that hidden strength only witnessed after that fine line had been crossed.
Before I pounced, Gin reached back and punched Harry's face. I heard a cracking of bone, and I didn't know if it was her hand or Harry's face. All I heard, inches away, was, "IF YOU LOVED HER AS MUCH AS YOU SAY YOU DO YOU WOULDN'T HAVE LEFT HER!!!"
Harry held his face, having moved sideways by her punch.
Harry couldn't have been expecting that.
Gin couldn't have doused my inner flame more with her careless aggressiveness, penultimate gasoline.
I, on the other hand, had a fistful of Weasley-red and pulled Gin down with me to the dirt. She gasped, and I hit her. I heard screams and shuffling around us. She had my hair, too, and pulled it as tight. Both our heads were inclined, our taut grips pulling us towards the other. We both cursed, Gin being the louder, the filthier, yelling, "Fuck!" every bloody second. I was on top to begin with, but Gin overpowered me.
I'd cut her cheek with my nail.
She'd cut my arms with her nails.
A throb, with no limits, pounded in my head with every sharp tug of my hair.
I gave her no less, making sure she screamed with my hand wrapped around her locks.
I wasn't sure how it happened, my focus on Gin and Gin alone, but one moment we were on the ground and the next I was being pulled away, and carried off. I saw Neville, having come from outside with the rest of the men, taken to Gin. He had has arms around her as she still clawed for me. I knew, without having to look, the smell of pumpkin, that Harry had me. My hands, fingers, nails still swiping the air.
Harry had to lead me out of the safe house, and by his strength, for if he'd let up even the slightest he would have found me back on top of Gin trying my best to yank out each little hair follicle from that ostentatious flock of Weasley-red.
And, mark my words, she would have been bald in seconds!
***
The Evening Prophet
ORDER OF THE PHOENIX: FRIEND OR FOE? FOE, SAYS MINISTRY SOURCE
Coming off the heels of Minerva Guinevere McGonagall's death this morning, a Ministry source here at the Prophet is currently investigating how close Miss McGonagall could have been to these "demons," as Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt has titled them. Let us not forget Severus Tobias Snape. A hierarchical member of this group, Order of the Phoenix, headed by none other than Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore (Hogwarts's Headmaster, Chief Warlock, and noted homosexual discovered by our own Rita Skeeter's extensive investigations), Snape was more than "friends" with everyone including Kingsley Shacklebolt and Minerva McGonagall. Soon after the War ended, words caught afire when Severus Tobias Snape was outed by the press to be partnered closely with He Who Must Not Be Named. That, he in fact gave secrets to Him and the rest of the aforementioned, "demons".
Could all of this be but a ruse?
Could our own administration be but a tool for something more sinister for its citizens?
Our source says yes.
Other curious questions have risen since this morning's issue of the whereabouts and time of Miss McGonagall.
The Prophet has always put on the table a belief that the entitled, "Knights in Shining Armour" or, namely, the "Order" was in bed with Him and his "demons". Now, more than ever, the belief is gaining truth towards fact.
Read more about the bread crumb trail leading the investigation on page four.
Kara Roslen
Co-Writer
Rita Skeeter
Co-Writer
Chief Editor
{Inspirations for the Chapter: Audiomachine - Final Hope, Audiomachine - Triumph and Loss, City of the Fallen - As Wings Block Out the Sun, Two Steps from Hell - Calamity, and other such music like Audiomachine - An Unfinished Life}
{5/25/2011 10:27 PM EST: Just wanted to add that I do read the reviews/ comments/ questions. Most of the questions are answered already or going to be answered in the future, so I wouldn't want to spoil the experience. One patterned trend I read surrounds Gin. All I want to say is, and I believe I can say this without it being a SPOILER, is that Ginevra will never let Hermione down. She is the definition of "friend," and will throw herself in front of a bus before she'd think of throwing Hermione. For those who haven't read chapter 40, this WILL be a spoiler. I've laughed-for you're all too clever-at those reviews in the past which have picked up on Gin and her attraction of Hermione long before it being written, and I couldn't for the life of me hide the runaway bride motif.}
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