Soul Seeker

Here is the next chapter. Yay for the filler chapter… Ah, to be fair a few important things do happen here, but they aren’t as long as they could be because I didn’t want the chapter to be tedious. I’m building you all up for the next chapter. Ginny does some bad stuff in Chapter 12.

I was meant to update Between Two Ages next, but I really want to finish this story. It might motivate me to finish some of my other ones. Brothers in Arms 4 has been started, just in case any of those who are interested missed it.

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Words: 5,155
Chapter 11
Misery Loves Company
June 21st 1998.

When a submissive Veela bonds it is generally a cause for celebration. In most instances, the two families are celebrating the bonding of much beloved children, and sometimes it’s a celebration of alliances where a bonding has occurred between two feuding families. There are even times, not many admittedly, where a Dominant takes a second submissive in lieu of their first – who would no longer be pure – and they mate for a love of politics and not each other. But regardless of the whys and the hows, a bonding is a joyous event, and the submissives are rather proud of that fact.

Draco was no different to any other submissive before him. The fact that his bonding had gone a little awry didn’t take away any of the effect it had on him. As with all submissive Veela, Draco spent the three days following his initial bonding proudly displaying his wings for all to see. Veela were unable to recall their wings for the first three days, which was probably why it was so hard for submissives that were no longer pure to hide that fact. After June eighteenth people who wanted to touch his wings had hounded Draco. Just the thought of it made him angry.

To a Veela, wings were off limits to anyone other than their family and their mates. If it had been Harry touching his wings, Draco would have likely melted to the floor, purring in pleasure and arousal. If either of his parents stroked his wings it would have the effect of calming him, or comforting, of letting him know he was loved and cared for. But those other people who had dared to touch him did nothing more than make him irritated and jumpy. Harry seemed to enjoy it though. The brunette still flinched slightly whenever attention was drawn to Draco’s neck, generally when Ginny (who had seen Draco’s bruises before they were fully healed) made it a point to blame Draco for the attack. As if to make up for hurting Draco during their bonding, Harry went out of his way to defend Draco from the others in the castle. Anyone who managed to touch Draco wound up the victim of a rather sever stinging hex.

Because of Harry’s behaviour, the others’ didn’t keep it up for more than a day. But Harry being annoyed upset Draco, and so Draco tried his best to stay away from most of the people in Hogwarts. He and Harry usually spent the day inside with Teddy doing some much-needed revision.

Today was the first day Draco had been able to recall his wings. While Harry was saddened by the loss of the beautiful feathered appendages, he was strangely glad they were no longer there. Dreams of Draco with wings only led to dreams of dead Draco, and that was the last thing he wanted. With Draco’s wings hidden he could at least pretend (or try to pretend) that there was no difference between this Draco and the Draco before they bonded.

The Malfoys had celebrated by taking the day to themselves. While Hogwarts was mostly rebuilt by now there was still a few things that needed doing. Many of the people who were helping who were familiar with the Ministry, Lucius included, were now found travelling back and forth between the two places finalizing the Yule exam schedule, finding teachers to replace those lost in the Battle, or doing odd jobs around the Ministry to help them reorganize theirselves.

Today, the Malfoys, Harry and Teddy found themselves sitting on a large blanket. They sat beneath a tree, shaded by its leaves, overlooking the lake. A small picnic (small in House Elf terms of course) was laid out before them, and each of them delighted in the fact that they were able to sit around freely and do absolutely nothing.

Their conversation flowed freely, and easily. Harry would have thought it might have been hard to talk to the parents of the boy he had tried to strangle but it wasn’t that hard. The elder Malfoys seemed to be pretending it hadn’t happened, and that was fine with Harry, if he were being honest.

Draco smiled over at his mate, throwing a grape at the boy’s head. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Sorry? What?”

“See, I told you mother! Obviously, whatever make believe people live in Harry’s head are far more important than I am.” The boy tilted his chin up, raising his nose in the air snottily and sniffed. “Not that I care, mind you, because Teddy loves me. Don’t you?”

Harry just chuckled at his mate’s behaviour. The toddler launched himself at Draco, his hair changing to the same shade of blond and his chin morphed so it was as pointed as Draco’s had once been. Harry smirked at the sight of the two of them, and Narcissa even allowed herself a small smile as well. Both of them were thinking of what it would be like to watch Draco with his own child, but while Narcissa was imagining how long it would take until she had a grandchild Harry’s thoughts were slightly more bitter. Harry was imagining what it would be like to live in a world where they could actually have a child before he died, and took Draco with him. A world where he had managed to defeat Voldemort properly.

“Yes,” the child said softly. “Wuv Drako!”

“I love you too, precious.” The blond replied, hugging the boy against him.

“Wuv daddy too!” Teddy turned his head to smile at Harry, his eyes the same shade of green. Teddy had taken to calling Harry his ‘daddy’ over the past week, and while Harry wasn’t against it, he knew that Teddy deserved to know about his real parents. When Teddy was old enough, some one would tell him, Harry was sure. He smiled sadly, thinking about how unfair life was that it had already taken away the boy’s father and was soon going to take away his ‘daddy’ as well.

“I love you,” Harry said. He turned to meet Draco’s eyes and whispered, “both of you.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Eventually Lucius started to talk to his wife, who began to involve Draco in the conversation, and eventually Harry found himself talking and laughing along with them again. When the food was finished, Harry helped Narcissa pack the leftovers back into the basket. They chatted about unimportant issues while they worked, and whenever they fell silent Lucius reprimanded them for not bringing a textbook along with them.

“Father, we can’t study on a picnic!”

“Your NEWTs are important, Draco, you have to take them seriously. You only have until Yule.”

“That’s a long while away father, and It isn’t like I need to do much catching up. I attended most classes last year, and I didn’t have much else to do at the Manor except cower before Him and revise.”

“That may very well be, but Harry didn’t attend school last year. You need to set a good example, Draco. You need to both do well.”

“We’ll do fine, Lucius,” Harry said, chuckling softy. “Hermione has a revision schedule prepared for both of us. It helped me pass the OWLs, so I’m sure it will work just as well for the NEWTs.”

“See, father! Nothing to worry about.”

“We’re your parents,” Narcissa said with a scowl. “It’s our job to worry.”

Draco just rolled his eyes, and stood up. “It looks like rain.” He grabbed Teddy off the ground, and held the boy carefully, propped up on one hip.

“Do you want to go inside?” Lucius asked. He looked up at the sky with a frown, noticing the rain clouds that his son had already seen. “It would probably be best.”

Harry heard his name called and looked around. He spotted George waving and waved back. “I’ll meet you inside ok?” He stood, pressed a kiss to Draco’s lips and Teddy’s forehead before he walked towards the red head.

“So you’re talking to me now?” George asked with a scowl.

“Yeah, course I am.” George grinned at him and Harry frowned. The boy’s mood swings were going to give him whiplash one of these days. “Was there something in particular you wanted?”

”Nope. Can’t I just hang out with my friend?”

“Well, of course you can, but it’s about to rain.”

“I like the rain. It’s,” he paused, frowning, “cleansing. You can cry and no one can tell if it is tears on your face or the rain.” His hand cupped Harry’s cheek lightly. “Do you ever cry in the rain, Harry?”

“Not recently.”

“Not recently? Not now that you have Malfoy, and you’re oh so happy and in love? Is that what you meant?” The redhead sounded angry now and Harry flinched back as George’s nails began to bite into the flesh of his cheek. “Why are you happy without me? You were meant to understand! You were the only one I could relate to, the only one! You were supposed to make me happy!” George screamed at him, beating his shoulders lightly with clenched fists, and Harry stood still and allowed the abuse. If he had been stronger, he could have killed Voldemort before Fred had to die. Then George would never have been unhappy.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? You’re sorry? No you aren’t Harry! You’re happy and in love remember.”

“I’m going to die,” he whispered, wanting to confide in the Weasley boy, wanting to give his friend something tangible to hold on to. He wanted to give George something that he wouldn’t have to envy Harry for. Death. Impending death. It wasn’t a pleasant thought to Harry, and he didn’t doubt that George would still be angry with him afterwards but at least he wouldn’t hate him for letting Fred die if he knew that Harry, too, had to die.

“So am I,” George hissed angrily. “So get over yourself!” He shoved Harry away from him. Harry landed on his arse, with a grunt. George took one more look at him, his face sheepish and ashamed looking, but he didn’t apologize. Instead he ran away.

And when it rained, Harry tilted his face up and cried.

XXX

June 29th 1998.

The week that followed was a violent one. Of the eight days since the picnic by the lake, the Rogue Death Eaters attacked Muggles on five of those days. The night before Fenrir had led them out, as was the norm now, and he had stood by and watched as they tortured all of the children over the age of five in one of London’s orphanages. Anyone over the age of five was killing quickly the moment they arrived. Though they were tortured, the other children were the lucky ones. As soon as the first of those had been killed, the Aurors arrived. They were in time to save the other Muggles, but they only managed to capture one Rogue.

He must have been a relatively new recruit, initiated not too long before Voldemort fell, because not even Lucius knew his name. Nameless though he was, he was weak and cowardly, and when threatened with torture and Azkaban he immediately gave up any information he knew pertaining to tonight’s attack.

Kingsley took a deep breath and nodded to the person next to him. Arthur knocked on the door. A tall, dark haired Muggle answered the door, smiling bemusedly at the two strangely dressed men.

“We didn’t have time to change,” Arthur said with a smile, indicating to their Ministry robes. “But at least we’ll fit in better this way.” The priest frowned. He was wearing a black robe; they were dressed in a pink coloured one. “May we come in?”

The sign above the door read ‘Juvenile Correctional Centre’, but neither man paid it any mind as they stepped past the priest and into the building. “What are you doing here?”

“Same thing you are,” Kinsley said, mistaking the Muggle for an undercover Auror.

“Praying for the souls of these children?” He gave them another bemused smile, waving his hand at them to follow him. “Come, I’ll bring you to the director of this institute.”

They entered the room. A man who looked to be in his sixties sat behind a desk, his hair thinned and grey and he glared at Auror Banks1 whose wand was laid out on the desk. “Destruction of property is a crime, young man. If you aren’t careful you’ll find yourself in a similar institute to this one.”

“I didn’t mean to.” The Auror protested. “If you give my wand back, I could fix the stupid lamp.”

“This,” the man waved the wand, “could be classed as an offensive weapon. You could be arrested for having this in your possession.”

“Mr. Dwight?” Arthur asked, striding into the room. Auror Banks turned around, saw Kingsley and seemed to wilt with relief. He watched the black Auror enter the room and grinned as he was handed his wand back. “Could we speak to you?”

“Banks, get to work.” Kingsley ordered.

“How may I help you gentlemen? Pastor, you may go.”

“I work for the Prime Minister.” Kingsley said hurriedly. Time was of the essence after all. “We have received information that a terrorist organization was planning to attack this building tonight. I would like your help in evacuating the building temporarily while this matter is resolved.” The Muggle opened his mouth to protest.

Arthur’s wand was in his face. “Imperio.” He spoke without quite realizing it. It was the first unforgivable he had ever cast, and his hand shook as he lowered his wand. “Bloody hell,” he swore, his face paling as the Muggle just looked back at him with an expressionless face.

“You will do as I instruct.” Kingsley said. Dwight looked to Arthur who nodded. The Muggle happily stepped back from that point and allowed Arthur, Kingsley and the other Aurors and Wizards to do what needed to be done.

When the Rogue’s finally arrived, they were alone. Fenrir wasn’t stupid. He knew that the attack was compromised the moment Heath allowed himself to be captured, but he didn’t find it necessary to warn the Wizards of that fact. He had promised them that the werewolves would follow them momentarily, and once they had gone, he had erected the wards and trapped the Rogues on the outside. If the Ministry took care of the Rogues then it saved him a lot of trouble in the long run. He would just have to find a more creative way to get what he wanted. It wasn’t like having those stupid Wizards around was doing him any good anyway.

The raid in itself was an embarrassment. The ten Rogues that had arrived were all new recruits, none of them particularly experienced and most of them spineless cowards. When Arthur pointed his wand at one of them, the man actually dropped his own wand in fright. They were used to following behind Voldemort’s elite, used to knowing that Harry Potter was no longer around to protect the rest of the weak, which made them the strong ones in comparison. But now they were weak, and they knew it, and it made them scared. The attack was over in under a quarter of an hour. Only three Wizards were anyway capable of defending themselves from the Aurors.

As they were rounded up, one screamed, “he’s a Death Eater, he’s a Death Eater too,” while pointing at Lucius. Arthur, while he resented the fact that the Malfoys were barely punished, trusted Harry’s judgement. Instead of saying what he really wanted to say, he shrugged lightly and said, “He was pardoned.”

“Which is more than we can say for you,” Minerva added, her eyes narrowed. “I remember you!” She said suddenly. “You were terrible at Transfiguration.”

Kingsley suppressed a chuckle. “We’re taking them to the Ministry now. Could you please send the children over? We need to ask them a few questions.” With that the team of Aurors manhandled the Rogues outside and Portkeyed them away. Those who remained behind Obliviated the Muggles that might have seen anything, and apparated themselves back to Hogsmeade. Madame Rosmerta was only too happy to allow them to use her fireplace to get back to Hogwarts.

Harry was sleeping when the house elf popped into the room. The noise startled Teddy, who began to cry. Incidentally his crying woke Harry up, but the house elf began to hit its head on the floor anyway.

“Stop it,” Harry ordered. He rolled from the bed, muttering to himself angrily, and lifted Teddy from the cot. “Hey little man. It’s ok. Why are you crying?”

“Harry?” Draco asked sleepily, looking at his mate through one eye as the other half of his face was buried in his pillow.

”Go back to sleep, Dray.”

“Master Harry sir, yous is needing to go to the Headmistress. Yous is being needed at the Ministry, sir.” The house elf popped away, silently this time, and Harry glared after the creature.

“Here we go,” he said softly, laying Teddy down. “You lie down next to Draco ok? I’ll be back very soon I promise.” Teddy gave a small sob, his fingers gripping Harry’s t-shirt tightly. “Draco will take care of you, baby. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“Of course I will,” the Veela murmured. Draco’s arm came out, wrapping around Teddy’s waist and pulling the boy against his chest. Teddy turned to cling to Draco, his face pressed against the blond’s naked chest as he let out a sniffle.

“Bad things, daddy,” the child whispered. He said something else, but Harry couldn’t understand him. As advanced as Teddy was for his age, he was still only fourteen months old, and as such most of the time he only spoke gibberish.

“Nothing bad will happen, love. Let Draco care for you ok?” When no answer was forthcoming, Harry slipped from the room. “Hello Lucius.”

The blond man was rubbing his face tiredly, making his way to his own room when Harry noticed him. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” He asked with a frown.

“I was. Apparently I’m wanted at the Ministry.”

”Ah,” his frown deepened as he spoke, “we caught the remaining Rogues. They probably want to know if you ever saw any of them.”

“Yes,” Harry said sarcastically. “Because I’m the only person who has ever been attacked by a Death Eater.”

XXX

June 30th 1998.

As it turned out two of those Rogues had been there when Andromeda was killed. Another of them Harry had watched Voldemort torture in a vision months ago, and two more had been the ones to capture him and his friends in the forest before taking them to Malfoy Manor. That proved that five of those men were Death Eaters before Voldemort’s defeat, and they were not being framed, nor did they join Greyback afterwards for revenge of some kind.

It was very early the next morning when Harry was allowed to return to Hogwarts. He stumbled out of the floo in the Headmistress office, a yawn slipping from his mouth as he managed to catch himself and not fall. “Morning,” he told Minerva.

“Go back to sleep, child,” she told him softly.

“I’m going to sleep in Gryffindor Tower tonight, ok? It’s closer than the Malfoys’ rooms.”

“Very well Harry. I’ll have a portrait let them know later this morning.” She smiled as he slipped from the room. The poor boy looked dead on his feet.

Harry barely made it up all of those stairs. When he was finally in front of the portrait of the fat lady he knocked lightly, one hand on the wall to keep himself from falling over. One of her eyes creaked open. She caught sight of his scar and opened wide, without asking for a password.

Harry was so tried he had to climb up the stairs to the boy’s dormitory. They had kept the same dorm since first year. Every new batch of first years got the old seventh year dorm, which meant that come September this room would belong to a new bunch of little Wizards. Harry smiled softly to himself at the thought. At least they would be safe and happy here, like he had once been, without having to worry about Voldemort. Harry looked at his bed, thinking back on the first time he had seen it, feeling the same thrill of pleasure and happiness surge through him at the thought that it was his! His! And he no longer had to sleep on a mattress in the cupboard under the stairs.

It had been a while since he had slept in that bed, and he admitted to himself that he had missed it last year. He grabbed the hangings, which were closed around the bed, then pulled them back – and screamed.

Ron and Seamus shot awake instantly. Dean groaned, rolled over, and finally sat up. Neville was sleeping in a room with his grandmother so he wasn’t there to see what the others saw. Some how, without any of the teenagers noticing, George had snuck into Harry’s bed. In the bed beside the window, in between Ron’s bed and Neville’s empty one lay the remaining Weasley twin.

There was a small smile on his pale face and he was completely naked. But that wasn’t the first thing Harry noticed. No, the only thing Harry noticed was that George’s wrists were slit, and they were bleeding all over the crimson red sheets.

XXX

July 2nd 1998.

St Mungos was relatively quiet. Every one sat around in hard plastic chairs, glancing uneasily at one another, staying silent out of fear and respect and worry. No matter how many times Mrs Weasley had insisted that her son wasn’t ill, the Healers had insisted on putting him in the Mental Trauma ward. As far as most people were concerned, being in the Trauma ward meant that the next step was shipping you off to the Hopeless Cases ward, where all of the loonies went.

For the two days George had been unconscious, Harry, Hermione and the Weasley family had flooed back and forth from Hogwarts or the Burrow or Shell Cottage. Draco had followed Harry back to St Mungos the day before. Neither of them had left since then.

The elder Weasleys sat stiffly, side by side, clutching each other’s hands. Bill and Charlie stood beside their parents, Bill holding Fleur who hadn’t stopped crying since they arrived, but who was so obviously pregnant that no one could keep their congratulations to themselves. Draco stared at her stomach enviously, before his eyes strayed to his mate and he felt guilty for thinking of creating a new life when one of Harry’s friends could very well be losing his. Ginny sat sullenly in the corner by herself. Percy, Penelope and Hermione sat together, biting their lips and wringing their hands. Draco sat in Harry’s lap, his head resting on the boy’s shoulder tiredly. Ron sat beside them, throwing Harry exasperated looks, while they all tried to ignore Ginny’s glaring.

A Healer stepped out of George’s room and into the corridor. “He’s asking to see Harry Potter.” Draco slid from his lap, allowing him to stand up. Draco sat back down in Harry’s vacated seat, glancing uneasily around as his mate walked into the room. “Mr. Malfoy?” Draco looked at the Healer. “He wants you to go in as well.”

“That’s not fair!” Ginny screeched, jumping out of her seat. She had a finger pointed at Draco and she was trembling with anger. “That’s not fair!” Inside of the room, George heard her and gave a snort. “It’s his fault! It’s all Malfoy’s fault, but he’s allowed to go in there when we aren’t? We’re family!”

“I’m sorry, miss, but the patient is asking to see Harry and Draco and I have to do as my patient asks me.” He frowned. “Now please calm down or I’m going to have to evict you from the hospital.”

“This is my fault?” Draco asked quietly as he closed the door behind himself.

George chuckled lightly. He reached out, grabbing Harry’s hand in his own and pulling the brunette down to sit on the edge of the bed. “No. Ginny just doesn’t like you being with Harry. She thinks Harry and I are fighting because of you. She thinks the idea of Harry loving you was enough to make me want to die.”

“And is it?” Harry asked, his voice harsh.

“No,” he said softly.

“What is enough to make you want to die, George?”

George didn’t answer the question. “She blames Draco. Do you know whom I blame? I blame Harry.” Draco growled, the Veela within him desperately wanting to defend his mate, to protect his mate from the redhead. “It is all Harry’s fault you know, for being kind and funny and absolutely gorgeous. How was I expected to not love him?”

”You said you didn’t love me.” Harry sounded faint. His face was pale, and Draco placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing him lightly.

“I don’t. I think I love the idea of you more than anything.” He looked at the wall, frowning. “I miss him. Do you miss him?”

“Yes,” Harry answered immediately.

The second the word was out of Harry’s mouth, George started to cry. It started lightly at first, his shoulders just barely shook, his chest rose and fell just a little bit faster than normal and he scarcely made any noise. Harry reached out to him, pulling him up against the brunette, and hugged him. George’s sobs came harder now, faster and more furious. He cried loudly, clutching at Harry’s back and hair, his tears dampening Harry’s neck. Draco watched them; he managed to reign in his jealousy and his hand remained on Harry’s shoulder comfortingly.

“I miss him so much, Harry,” George sobbed. “It’s like he was a part of me and now he’s gone and I’m missing a part of my soul. Do you understand?”

Harry didn’t quite know what to say. He understood. Except for him it was the other way around. All of his life he had only been half complete, and the moment he bonded with Draco he had realized that fact. Being with Draco, inside Draco and a part of Draco completed his soul.

“I feel like I only have half a soul.” George whispered brokenly.

Harry said the only thing he could think of. “You can have Voldemort’s if you want?”

George offered him a watery smile, “no thanks.”

“It was worth a try.” Harry said sullenly, earning himself a small laugh from the still crying redhead.

Outside the hospital room, Ginny glared mutinously at the door. She couldn’t believe that little Death Eater was allowed in there but George’s own family wasn’t. And why was Harry in there? He and George had never been closer than Harry and any of the other brothers. Why was George suddenly interested in Harry now?

She strained her ears, having moved to a chair closer to the door, and tried to listen. She heard George say, “How was I expected to not love him?” and she didn’t wait to see what Harry or Draco had to say in reply. How dare George fall in love with her Harry? Hers! Harry had always been hers.

She grabbed hold of the door handle, and pulled. Instead of opening, the door stayed firmly locked and the protection spells that were upon the door portkeyed her out of St Mungos, evicting her like the Healer had warned.

She screamed angrily as she landed in a pile outside. “How dare they?” She hissed to herself, standing up. “Harry is mine. Harry loved me first. How dare they all come along and try to take him from me? Malfoy claims he’s a Veela and Harry jumps at the change to be his mate!” She kicked the wall angrily. “George decides he loves Harry too. My own brother is trying to steal my boyfriend! How fucked up!”

From the other side of the road Fenrir Greyback watched the girl with amusement. Oh he recognized her all right. She was Potter’s last girlfriend, and she was a feisty little thing. He smirked as she punched the wall, muttering about how she wished it were ‘Malfoy’s face’. He could hear her clearly, even with the distance, and he thanked the sensitive hearing of his wolf and she claimed she’d kill to get Harry back.

He apparated over behind her, not really caring if a Muggle saw him. One arm was around her neck, and the other around her hips, pulling her back and pinning her against him. “Hello pretty one. Fancy meeting someone like you here, all alone.”

“Get off of me!” She screamed, but no one was around that late at night to hear her.

“Now don’t be like that.” He cooed into her ear. “We’re going to spend some time together.” His hand moved down her thigh, squeezing the muscle lightly before his fingers drifted back up the inside of her leg, underneath her skirt. “To get to know one another, and all that rot.” He told her with a leer, his hand cupping her through her underwear. “It’s going to be fun, I promise.”

“HELP!” She screamed again, “don’t touch me! HELP!”

“Now, now, don’t be like that, pretty. If you play nice with me, I’ll help you get Potter as a mate. How does that sound?” The hand around her neck moved down to cup one of her breasts and she choked back a sob as he squeezed harshly.

”Harry?” She asked softly, trying not to cry.

“Yes, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” He murmured, his hands still moving on her, in her. “Give me what I want, girl, and I’ll give you what you want.”

“W-What do you want?” She asked, flinching away as his cold hand moved under her shirt and unclipped her bra.

“Do you think Harry will come for you?” He asked softly, trying not to laugh.

“O-Of course.” She tried to sound completely sure of herself, but she didn’t quite manage it. While she knew that Harry loved her, he’d probably stay with the rest of her family in the Hospital. What if they all thought she’d gone back to Hogwarts and none of them thought to check on her? “He’ll come for me.”

“Oh I hope not,” he growled, “that would spoil all the fun I was planning on having with you.” He chuckled cruelly as he apparated them away. Ginny’s scream echoed down the empty street but, again, no one heard it.

No one would notice she was missing for two days.

That was plenty of time for Greyback to have his fun with her.

XXX


1 – the Auror from chapter one, who came as Lucius’ chaperone and witnessed Draco’s inheritance was called Auror Banks. I thought he could crop up again and be in an awkward situation. Mwahaha!

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Thanks for reading; I hope you enjoyed the chapter. A review would be nice, especially considering there are only 2 more chapters to go.