Memoirs of a Serpent's Son

[Author’s Note: I absolutely hate having to do this, but I abhor having discrepancies in my story, especially when I intend it to be as plausible as possible. So, please do forgive me for having to add this in. I don’t like it because it will alter the proper flow of the story and seem rather redundant, almost pointless, but it needs to be done and it does serve as a tactic to help me with something else. So I hope that you don’t throw your arms in the air as you read this and proclaim how much you now despise me and my writing to the world. Instead, I hope that you can forgive me for my stupidity and obsessive compulsiveness. Plus, to make up for it, this chapter should be quite a bit longer than the others and I’m adding in some lovely little err… moments… to try and win you all back, hehe. Thanks and again I apologize profusely.]

Memoirs of a Serpent’s Son

--Age 17—part 14

October 23 –continued

You’d have thought that they’d all forgotten about my existence suddenly because the three of them turned to me as I said that as though they had only just realized that I was there. It did nothing for my feeling of comfort but, ah well, who cares? Since when have I needed to be comfortable around Potter and his annoying friends to tell them what I think?

“Er…yeah, sure, what is it?” Potter asked, almost at a loss for words that I might have something to actively contribute to the conversation before being asked.

I rolled my eyes but continued anyway.

“Well, first off, I imagine that Voldemort created his Horcruxes later in his…career… rather than earlier,” I said carefully choosing my words. “I mean in the time before his first defeat, am I correct?”

“Yeah,” Potter answered slowly, wondering where I was going. Actually, for a moment, so was I. “Dumbledore said that he saved making the Horcruxes for important deaths. He thought that he had only made five before coming to kill me and my parents. He thought that the last one was saved for my death, but that clearly didn’t work out…” he trailed off rather listlessly.

“Yes,” I answered though there was no question. What do you say to something like that?? “Well, as none of us can possibly read his mind or know how the psychopath is thinking, I suggest we backtrack. We should retrace his steps –so-to-speak –from the time where he made the most of his Horcruxes.”

Weasel gave me quite the blank look. Granger simply nodded carefully but Potter’s expression was, as usual, the most fascinating. His brows were knit together but his eyes were wide and his lips were partly open. It was as though he was only just seeing me for the first time. Seeing me for real.

“So that would mean…?” Weasel began as though hoping someone would fill in the blanks. I rolled my eyes.

“He wants us to go back to Godric’s Hollow,” Potter whispered, still staring at me. I nodded to him, assuming that that was the name of his parents’ home.

“To start with, yes,” I explained. “And then we should use whatever information we have about his movements prior to that to try and figure out which killings might have been more important, and what places might have held more meaning to him.”

“That’s…” Granger began, rather alarmed.

“That’s exactly what I wanted to do,” Potter said. His expression kept changing and I couldn’t read it anymore… I didn’t know how to feel about the way he was looking at me. It was as though he was suspicious and yet impressed all in one. Bloody mixed signals.

“Malfoy… how did you come up with that?” Weasel demanded, much more clearly suspicious than Potter. I shook my head.

“It just seems logical,” I explained simply. “God-..Godric’s Hollow, did you call it? That was the last place that he was at his fullest power, his most confident. His last attack before he fell and needed to resort to the use of the Horcruxes. Naturally that place would have clues as to his fall and moving backwards from there would have clues as to what and where his Horcruxes might be. He likely would have made them more quickly towards the end… if he did indeed mean to make his last Horcrux out of Potter’s death.”

“But he couldn’t have known that he would fall that night,” Granger commented.

“No, but my death was supposed to be a big thing to him, Dumbledore said he likely did everything he could to ensure his life was safe before coming to face me,” Potter explained quickly. “Because of the Prophecy and all… remember?”

THAT caught my attention. Why is it they like to keep little rather important details from me until it suits them to let me know?

“Prophecy? What now?” I snapped, glaring at Potter. “What Prophecy??”

“It leaked to the media…well some things about it,” he said giving me a skeptical look. “You don’t know? That’s why they call me the “Chosen One”.”

I frowned.

“I think I may have had other more pressing things on my mind last year to follow all your newspaper interviews, Potter,” I sneered. “Enlighten me.”

It was his turn to frown.

“That’s what your father was at the Ministry trying to steal when he was caught and thrown into Azkaban,” he recounted matter-of-factly. Oh, that was nicely put. Very gentle, Potter. “It’s a Prophecy about Voldemort and I… “Neither can live while the other survives…” It basically said that I am the only one who can destroy Voldemort. I’m not doing this whole thing just because it pleases me to be the hero and risk the lives of everyone I love. I just haven’t been given much of a choice.”

So that’s it then…

It’s NOT because he’s a blindly courageous and noble lion with a knack for making himself the saviour.

Got it.

“I see,” I muttered. “Well then, there you have it.” I don’t know why I said that, we didn’t really have anything right there, but ah well.

“So we go to Godric’s Hollow,” Weasel proclaimed. Then something hit him and he looked as though he’d just botched his potion’s exam. “But, er… where is it? And how do we get there?”

Everyone went silent. Potter blinked several times and then had the look of someone who is literally trying to rack their brains for an answer.

“I… I don’t remember,” he admitted. “I was only one when I left there… I have no idea where it is, actually.”

“That’s a good start,” I hissed under my breath. What use was he then?

“But Lupin should know, shouldn’t he??” Granger added. “He was friends with your parents, he would know. Or maybe Hagrid… he picked you up that night, no?”

Potter bit his lip.

“I really don’t know,” he muttered, clearly bothered by the fact that he couldn’t remember this. “But we’ll ask Remus. He should know… yeah. He would know. He’ll be able to tell us. We’ll send him a letter and tell him to come back as soon as possible. It’s urgent, after all.”

I nodded, not quite sure where Lupin had gone to begin with. He didn’t live in the house? How long has it been since I’ve been out? I think the dust and musky air has been getting to me…

“I’ll go send Hedwig now,” he told us and then ran off.

And I was left alone in a room with Granger and Weasel.

That was about the time I decided it would be a good idea to go back to my room.

There’s something rather disconcerting about being alone with those two.

********

October 30

It’s been about a week and there has been only a short message from Lupin claiming that he would return as soon was possible. That was two days ago.

The interesting thing about that was that Potter’s owl –Hedwig, I believe –decided that the best place to land when she returned was not on Potter’s outstretched arm, nor on the table or the chair, but instead on my shoulder.

I couldn’t help but smile the moment I saw her. I missed Regulus… I suppose he is still at Hogwarts but I can’t know for sure… that and there is something desperately comforting about Hedwig. I caressed the feathers of her stomach when she dropped the tiny shredded note onto the table.

Then I turned back to my food and realized that the three of them were watching me, waiting for an explanation.

“The owl and I go way back,” I answered with a smirk. It was followed by a hoot of agreement from Hedwig and Potter nearly burst out laughing. Granger and Weasel were not so amused by the whole thing but shook their heads and turned their attention back to the note, nevertheless.

It was…. an interesting morning. Though as it was two days ago, and we still haven’t seen hide or hair of the werewolf, I’m beginning to wonder if he has any kind of awareness of time when he’s transformed.

Though it doesn’t seem to be bothering Weasel and Granger at all… at least not from what I saw today… Ohhh I feel like vomiting just at the thought of it.

I finished breakfast on my own and decided to go back up to the library (my usual haunt) to do some more reading. When I got there, however, I was met with some very unwelcome visions.

There, on the couch, looking more like one great mass of limbs than two people, were Granger and Weasel SNOGGING.

SNOGGING EACH OTHER IN A ROOM WITHOUT A DOOR.

IN MY ROOM!

Ok, not my room, but STILL. I’m ALWAYS THERE.

Maybe Granger needs the books around to get off…

AHHHHHHHH I DID NOT JUST WRITE THAT!

ARGH THERE IS NO WAY!

Oh god I’m shuddering…. That was sickening.

My eyes widened in shock and my face contorted (LITERALLY CONTORTED) into something of repulsion and I carefully backed out of the room and nearly bolted back to my bedroom. I got in quickly and closed the door, the crazed look still on my face.

When I turned around, however, I was only vaguely aware that Potter was in there sitting on my bed.

“Are you alright?” he asked carefully, giving me a worried but skeptical look. I shuddered and tried to fix my face.

“There are no words,” I moaned, trying to get the disgusting image out of my mind. Ah too late… it’s already burned in there permanently.

I will never sleep again.

Or eat.

Or read.

ARGH.

Potter nodded and then shifted on the bed, as though just realizing that I might be wondering what he’s doing in my room.

“I, er… Well Ron and Hermione are –”

“Snogging each other like rabid rabbits just out there in the library? Yes I’m well aware,” I finished quickly, spitting the words from my mouth as though they were some kind of sickening venom. They kind of were.

“So there ARE words,” he said with a sneer of his own. There was an amused little smirk on his face that I did not appreciate. I grimaced at him and gave him a look as though daring him to keep going with that thought. “Oh, don’t look so disgusted. They are just kissing.”

I shuddered violently.

“Let me just put it this way,” I told him icily. “If that is kissing then I seriously pity Granger.” He bit back what looked like a laugh and a smile and tried very hard to frown at me. “But who are you to talk? You’ve clearly taken refuge in my room to get away from them.”

He rolled his eyes and rearranged himself on the bed.

“I’m not trying to get away from them,” he explained breathily. “It’s taken them forever to get together… I’m happy for them.” But he didn’t look it. In fact, he looked almost jealous. “I’m just giving them some space.”

“And taking up mine,” I added with a drawl. He kicked off his shoes and sat back on my bed, leaning his back against the headboard and stretching his legs. I stared at where he was sitting, with his back pressed firmly against my pillow… that thing would smell like him for days…

“I don’t think you really mind,” he proclaimed arrogantly. I grimaced slightly. I wasn’t about to deny it but I wasn’t going to admit it freely either. “Besides, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something…”

I ambled over to the bed and sat myself down near the foot and looked over at him letting my eyes casually roam over his entire body before settling on his face. He didn’t look uncomfortable, but he didn’t make any sign that he appreciated it either.

“About?” I asked, feigning interest. Something was distracting me. Perhaps it was the way his body stretched languidly over the black blanket. Perhaps it was how comfortable he looked sitting with me or maybe it was how he liked to wiggle his toes every so often and brush the side of my leg.

Or all of these things.

“Something’s been bothering me,” he began, tilting his head a bit. “It’s about what you said about needing to sacrifice something of yourself to destroy a soul… you said that I was supposed to sacrifice my life for the diary and then Fawkes healed me… but the more I think about it the more I remember differently. Fawkes healed me before stabbed the diary with the Basilisk fang, meaning I wasn’t giving anything up to destroy the soul.”

“That’s not possible,” I told him simply, trying very hard to ignore the heart-melting little things that he was doing. “You had to have given up something. There is no way to destroy a soul without it. None. You must be wrong.”

“No,” I countered, frowning at me. “I’m not. I remember it clearly now. I was dying on the ground because of the venom. Tom was laughing at me and telling me it wouldn’t be long… then Fawkes landed on me and Tom laughed harder saying that even the bird knew I was done for because it was crying for me. Then the tears took effect and I wasn’t dying anymore. Tom raised the wand to me and was about to cast the killing curse when I stabbed the diary and poof he was gone. Well it wasn’t so much of a ‘poof’ as a kind of cra –”

But I stopped listening. Something wasn’t right about what he said.

“Tom was holding a wand?? What?? What are you talking about?!” I interrupted urgently. He stared, his mouth open as though he’d just lost his train of thought.

“Tom… yeah Voldemort’s sixteen year old memory,” he explained cryptically. “He took my wand when I ran in to see if Ginny was alright… He was the piece of soul that was caught in the diary, I imagine… and he held up my own wand to me to try and kill me –”

“That’s not possible, Potter,” I rejected again. “If ‘Tom’ was just a piece of a soul then there is no way that he could have been holding a wand. A soul is an immaterial thing… only wizards can bear and use wands.”

“Yeah,” he said simply. “He was using Ginny’s power or energy or something like that to make himself more real… To come back to life I guess… or something. He was pretty solid when I got there.”

“HE WAS SOLID?” I asked frantically. HOW DOES HE NOT MENTION THESE THINGS?? “How solid was he? Was he almost “finished” …solidifying?”

Ok, the wording is terribly inaccurate, but I couldn’t think of anything better.

“Well, he did say it wouldn’t be long before she was gone and he was back,” he admitted with a shrug. “But what does that have to do with anything?”

I don’t understand how he can have these moments of brilliance and wisdom, and then go back to the absolutely daft thing that he usually is so seamlessly.

“It has EVERYTHING to do with EVERYTHING!” I screamed dramatically. “A soul cannot subsist in the living world on its own. It has to be tied to something, usually a body. In the cases of Horcruxes, it’s tied to an object. If Voldemort’s soul piece was solid and outside of the diary then you didn’t destroy his soul… you simply destroyed the link that his soul possessed to the living world. It’s as though you killed his body. The soul is left over but the vessel is destroyed. You just let his soul vanish… or disappear or something.”

I admit I felt rather triumphant in that moment.

“But then shouldn’t I have had a part of my soul ripped out anyway? If it was like killing someone?” he asked, very confused. I shook my head.

“No because you didn’t kill a living being to free the soul. You just stabbed an inanimate object,” I told him. Then it hit me. “You’ve likely figured out the only way you can get away with killing someone without suffering a consequence. Wow, Potter… you ARE good.”

He watched me expressionless for a moment.

“Somehow, I doubt that it would be to our advantage to allow each of Voldemort’s remaining Horcruxes to let the soul piece solidify before we destroy the objects,” he pointed out blandly, likely picking up on what I was thinking.

“Well no, but at least you know it will still work if it does happen,” I admitted, shrugging.

He gave a small smile and sat up throwing his legs over the side of the bed to sit right next to me. Potter turned to look and me and I turned to look at him. We were inches from one another.

“How did you really think of going to Godric’s Hollow?” he asked quietly. I cocked an eyebrow.

“What do you mean? I told you how I came to it,” I answered. He leaned in slightly and I mimicked him as though drawn by his actions.

“It’s just… exactly what I was thinking,” he whispered, his eyelids closing slightly as his gaze was fixed on my lips. I leaned in a bit further. “And lately you just seem to be doing everything right…”

“It does happen sometimes,” I whispered in response, our lips almost touching. I could feel his warm breath on my mouth as I parted my own lips very slightly.

I could already taste him, before we’d even touched. His eyes were almost completely shut and I brought my arm around carefully to face him more fully. The yearning tension between our mouths was almost too much to bear but as soon as I was about to close the remaining distance…

“Harry?” Lupin’s voice came from the door. Potter snapped out of it and straightened his back carefully. I shut my eyes and closed my mouth trying to stop myself from exploding.

I leaned back normally and turned my attention to Lupin as well.

“Remus, you’re back!” Potter said with almost a fake kind of enthusiasm. Lupin looked between us for a moment and then gave me the saddest smile.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he told us quietly. The interesting thing was that he genuinely DID look sorry that he had to interrupt. “Though I have to be going very soon. You needed to talk to me, Harry?”

“Yeah,” Potter nodded, standing up and walking over to the werewolf. I nearly let myself groan out loud. “Sorry to call you away from your duties…”

“It’s no problem, let’s go talk in the office,” he suggested. He turned back to me and smiled again. “I won’t keep him for long, I promise.” And they left.

Now.

Was that not THE MOST AWKWARD COMMENT ever??

What did he mean by THAT? I stared at the doorway for a long time wondering what Lupin could possibly have meant… if he suspected that there is something between Potter and I (which there clearly is NOT) or that there should be (in which case I AGREE wholeheartedly)… I don’t know… I just don’t know.

WHAT IS IT WITH THESE GRYFFINDORS AND THEIR BLOODY ENIGMATIC COMMUNICATION SKILLS?!?

Or lack thereof…whatever.

I threw myself back onto my bed and sorely wished to simply explode so that at least SOME of my tension could be released… that and I was NOT about to… release it myself.

So I just laid there and waited, hoping that Potter would come back to see me before finding his friends. I also hoped, though secretly and much to my own dismay, that Weasel could hold out for longer than it would take Potter to get information from Lupin…

Yes, I even surprise myself sometimes.

It felt like forever I waited… I could feel the seconds tick by as every one of them meant that the unresolved tension inside of me stirred more irately as I yearned for some kind of release.

I’m beginning to think he does these things on purpose!

Then he finally came back, but the expression on his face was not what I was hoping for.

He closed the door quietly and stood in the entrance for a moment or two. I got to my feet and walked over to him, hoping that would coax some kind of explanation out of him.

“Did he give you the address?” I asked, trying to ignore the longing I felt. He shook his head.

“Couldn’t.”

I furrowed my brows and blinked. What the hell?

“Why not? Has he never been there?” I demanded rather cross. Potter shook his head again.

“It’s not that,” he answered. His expression was pensive. That’s it. “He has been there, but he can’t reveal the location to me… he tried. But it’s still under the Fidelius Charm.”

I blinked several times. I wasn’t very surprised that the Potters had used the Fidelius Charm to protect themselves, but I was rather amazed that it was still in effect despite the fact that there was nothing there to protect any longer.

“What? Still?” I asked as I had nothing better to say. He nodded.

“The Secret Keeper isn’t dead and the spell hasn’t been lifted,” he explained. “When he thought about it, Remus realized that the only people who have been there since my parents’ deaths were people who had known the secret to begin with.”

“But you were there…why can’t he tell you?” I asked. Again, I have knowledge in the Dark Arts and dark things… not details about things like the Fidelius Charm.

“Because I was only a baby at the time,” Potter explained much as though he himself didn’t understand much better. “Remus said that I was too young to even understand or be aware of the secret, let alone remember it. Babies are kind of immune to the Fidelius Charm, I suppose… I guess it starts to take effect once you start talking in actual sentences or something.”

“That makes sense I suppose,” I admitted. I almost regret having asked him. I could have figured that out… given some time and no distractions. “So then we need the Secret Keeper. Who is it?”
Potter gave me a strange look. There was a fire in his eyes that I’d never seen before. Something of a loathing as he thought about whoever this person was.

“Peter Pettigrew,” he said venomously. “He’s the man who betrayed my parents’ to their deaths.”

“Oh,” I whispered. I could understand his anger now. I know what it’s like to know that your parents were betrayed by someone who was supposed to care about them… even protect them. My mother’s sister was the one who killed her, after all. And then impersonated her. Who knows, she might have had something to do with my father’s death as well. I wouldn’t put it past her…

“I will kill him one day,” Potter spat quietly, glaring right through me as though he saw Pettigrew behind me somewhere. “I saved his life once and I will take it back.”

I nodded. I wasn’t going to tell him otherwise. I wasn’t going to play the part of noble Gryffindor and claim that he should value every life no matter whose it is. I’m not a Gryffindor with noble intentions. I’m a Slytherin who knows better than to think that every life is just as worthy as the next.

At least in cases like these.

I plan to kill Bellatrix one day too. I don’t think Potter would stop me… not knowing that she also was the cause of Sirius’ death. Among other things I’m sure.

Then he shuddered and shook off his feelings of anger and frustration and gave me a small smile.

“I think we need to tell Ron and Hermione,” he suggested, clearly trying to make light of the whole situation. At least we have a lead…

He turned around and made for the door but I couldn’t let him go. Not again… not now…

I grabbed his wrist and held him.

“I don’t think that they would really mind if you waited,” I told him determinately. My eyes were set and he turned around to look at me. His eyes looked as though he was harboring some kind of fear… or maybe nervous excitement… “And besides, there is something a bit more pressing I need to deal with at the moment.”

“Malfoy…” he whispered, glancing at his wrist. My grip tightened slightly.

“I want to know where I stand, Potter,” I told him carefully. “You seem to trust me enough to tell me important things about the war and involve me in the discussions, but you’re cryptic about how you feel. One minute you flinch and shy away from me and my touch and the next you are leaning in and pressing against me and throwing me hints that I don’t know if I should pick up. Needless to say it’s frustrating, Potter… Just tell me, what am I to you?”

His lip quivered a moment and his eyes were slightly narrowed as I took a step towards him and pulled him towards me simultaneously. He cast his eyes around me until he realized that he couldn’t look away. He shrugged softly as he tried to find the words.

“I… I don’t know… I…” He spoke in broken sentences with little meaning. “I can’t understand it myself… I’m trying but… there are so many factors… I can’t figure it out…”

“Then maybe you should stop relying on your brain to understand, Potter,” I suggested smoothly. I was nearly flush up against him now. “Because it clearly doesn’t know what the hell it’s talking about…” I let my fingers roam down the center of his chest and around his waist to the small of his back. “Maybe you should listen to something else, instead…”

And before he could say anything I pressed my lips to his mouth with a gentle hunger. I pushed myself against him and his arms found their way around my waist as I let go of his wrist. My newly freed hand slid up to his face and cupped his cheek to help angle his head back as I parted his lips with my own carefully. It was slow and it was gentle and I could feel his heart beat against mine in a way that felt more surreal than any of my dreams or daydreams ever had.

I pulled away briefly and kissed his top lip softly before smirking.

“What do you say? Do you feel ready now?” I inquired softly, than hand that was on his back pulled him closer. His eyelids fluttered a moment and his eyes were trained on my lips again.

“I… don’t know… wasn’t quite clear…” he whispered. “Maybe you should try again…”

I raised an eyebrow and let our lips touch again. This time the kiss was a little more powerful, with a little more passion and a little less softness. He whimpered softly and I pulled away again.

“How about now?” I asked him. He smirked a bit.

“Still a little fuzzy,” he replied. “One more time just for good measure.”

I almost frowned. Had it not be so endearing I might have snorted and let him go.

“You are some kind of Slytherin,” I told him before kissing him again.

“The best kind,” he whispered between embraces.

I held him tighter as we kissed, letting our tongues tango and fight. I slowly drew him back with me to the bed, until I could sit on the edge.

I tugged at him as we moved and he straddled me on his knees on the mattress, his stomach pressed hard against my chest. I leaned my head back to kiss him now and my hands found their way down his sides and up under his shirt to feel his soft skin. He tried to mimic me and tugged at the fabric of the shirt I was wearing, exposing most of my midsection to him as we kissed, refusing to break the contact.

He moaned as I drew my hands up his sides and ran my thumbs over each of his nipples from under his clothes. I gasped as well, wanting to touch more of him, wanting my skin against his.

I inched his shirt up until he got the point and we broke the kiss for just a moment so that I could slide of his t-shirt and he could remove mine. Then he threw himself against me even harder, his skin hot and soft and rubbing raw against mine as our arms became entangled around one another. He was sitting directly on top of ..me… now and rocking his hips against mine, causing an almost painful kind of friction as I felt him against my pride, even through the trousers.

I moaned this time, dragging my palms down his back and slipping one hand under the waist of his trousers to feel more of his skin. He jumped softly and pulled away, desire in his eyes and heavy breaths from his mouth.

“Wait…” he whispered, our noses brushing as he spoke. There was some kind of unseen force pulling hard between our mouths to close the distance. “I… want to take this… kind of slow… just… just let me feel you touch me… for now…”

I nodded and captured his lips again with more passion and fervor than before, spreading my fingers over every inch of his skin that I could possibly touch, under his trousers and above. He tried to do the same thing and I felt his hands nimbly manage to undo my trousers and somehow snake their way to my hidden flesh through the barrier of our bodies…

I followed his lead and found his shaft, massaging it carefully with my hands. He threw his head back and let some kind of sound escape his lips. Whatever it was, it was erotic and absolutely fantastic.

I let my lips drag over his chest and find his nipple. Sucking each of them slowly in turn, I heard more of his sensual gasps of pleasure. Every so often his grip would tighten around my length and I’d let out a moan of my own… he felt so good to me… I’ve never felt so good but when he touches me…

It wasn’t long before we both finished.

We were both panting and letting out incoherent sounds every so often. He rested his head against my bare shoulder and I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him close. We were sticky and wet and sweaty but I didn’t care…

Potter was finally in my arms and he wasn’t running away. His arms were around my neck and holding onto me as though he thought he might fall off the earth if he let go.

“Draco…” he whispered breathlessly. He let out a small laugh as he said it, like it was the most relaxing thing he’d ever done, say my name.

So I tried it.

“Harry…”

-------IIIIIII-------

A/N: Ok so I did kind of make up for last chapter being a bit shorter by making this one incredibly long in comparison ehehehe… that and I hope you weren’t too bored with my stupid re-explanation of the Horcrux stuff and second year. It needed to be done and as I am the queen of explaining things away (even if it doesn’t make a lot of sense) well… this is the result. I also thought it would be a good time for them to actually get something together ehehehe… And I’m also operating under the idea that Remus and Sirius were in love (which is why Lupin was so sad to interrupt Harry and Draco and all that jazz, I won’t go far into it in the story I don’t think, but just so you know :) )

And yes… I don’t entirely like this chapter so please be gentle X_X And if you were wondering about how Voldemort continued to exist after Harry “defeated him” the first time, if he was just a shadowy thing, well he wasn’t a soul, he was “less than a soul”, I believe that’s actually what he said himself in the book. Anyway, he was something entirely different. Ghosts, as well, are not souls, they are imprints of a departed soul. Voldemort was likely closer to a ghost than anything else, though he was still technically “alive”. Yeah, it’s a confusing bit of stuff but it works now. GOD I hope I haven’t missed anything else. I HATE it when that happens.

And I realized I didn’t answer this question the last time, but YES indeed you WILL get to see Draco’s patronus :) and it will be quite exciting. Well for me anyway, hopefully for you too. Ehehehe but that might take some time.

And Graballz, I meant it’s Draco’s month for us right now, lol, as it is currently June, not for him in the story lol X_X sorry about that! But it’s his birthday on Tuesday! How shall we celebrate?

Lol cookies and love and my profound apologies to all! I adore you ^_^