Vengeance

Vengeance
Chapter Five

000


Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter or any of its paraphernalia, JK Rowling does.


000


The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting.
Sun Tzu
The Art of War.


000


Saturday morning found Draco again at the White Devil. Anticipating his meeting with Granger, he had been antsy for the past few days. Now, as the appointed day had finally arrived, the hours seemed to drag on to eternity.


He had alternated his thoughts of Granger with thoughts of the disturbing discovery he had made at Hogwarts a few days prior. It was most likely that he thief knew how to get into Hogwarts and had been stealing surreptitiously for some time. Draco’s Slytherin mind had been working on overtime, keeping him up at night, distracting him from important meetings, and generally making a nuisance of itself.


How could he use this to his advantage?


The question rolled itself over and over, begged to be asked, examined at every angle. Action could be left to the Gryffindors, this was where his true talents lay. He hadn’t been this excited over a piece of information since he ferreted out the whereabouts of McGonagall.


Draco furrowed his eyebrows at the thought. He had discovered Hermione Granger, the Mudblood Queen, the most wanted fugitive left from the war, best friend of Harry Potter himself. Why wasn’t he salivating about how he could use her presence to bring political gain for himself?


Sensing that this was a path his consciousness didn’t want to wander at this moment, he shoved the wayward thoughts down deep, to think about late at night, just as his mind gave itself over to sleep and there were no more restraints.


So then, what to do about the thief?


There was no telling what sort of things he had stolen over the years. When Voldemort had first taken over the ancient building, there were a few things missing, admittedly. But it was thought Dumbledore had sequestered the most valuable items away for safekeeping, out of the reach of the enemy in case of invasion.


Even worse, in the Dark King’s arrogance, he had moved all valuable ministry documents and records to Hogwarts for safekeeping. If Voldemort couldn’t breach Hogwarts’ defenses than no one else certainly could, right?


Wrong.


Someone had probably breached the defenses, many times, taking many valuable items, or more worrisome, spying on any number of meetings of the most private sort, between the King and his advisors. Yes, there were large problems.


So what to do? Tell his megalomaniacal liege lord that the thief that could break into Gringotts had most likely penetrated the very heart of Voldemort’s sanctuary?


Not if he wanted to live for more than thirty seconds.


No, he had to somehow work this situation to his advantage, but he just wasn’t sure how to accomplish that just yet. His body was vibrating with frustration, burning with nervous energy. He wasn’t sure if he was in any state to fence wits with Granger, but he simply couldn’t wait any longer. He had to talk to her now.


As he stepped through the impressive entrance of the building, he was greeted immediately and profusely by the ever-present Roderick.


“My Lord! How good to see you again. What may we do for you today?”


Draco smiled condescendingly as he let the smaller man take his cloak. “Good to be here again Roderick. I was wondering, is Miss Gardiner in yet?”


Roderick, who was smoothing out the folds in Draco’s cloak with anal retentive abandon, smiled and said, “Oh yes Lord Malfoy! In fact, she is at rehearsal for tonight’s show. Would you like me to show you to one of the parlors, or to the library where you can occupy yourself until she is finished?”


Rehearsal, eh? That sounds… delicious. Almost a private show. And I know how well Granger puts on private shows. Draco started walking smoothly towards the main hall, where Granger had entertained last week. He called back to Roderick, who was anxiously watching him, “No need, no need. I’ll just catch the end of it, and talk to her afterwards.”


“Very well Milord.”


000


The auditorium was very different. Instead of a large, lavish tent, this time the room actually resembled a club. Sort of. Well, there were chairs anyway. Clusters of small individual tables were stark, with only a lone candle on each. In contrast to the barren tables, the chairs were almost decadent. Black, buttery soft leather, they were large enough for a tall man to stretch out and were unbelievably comfortable.


Besides the luxurious chairs, the room was sparsely decorated. The walls were a stark white, with a few pieces of highly colored, large abstract art hanging at strategic intervals. Animated like all wizarding paintings, these pieces obviously couldn’t talk. They seemed to suggest various emotions, one done in blue tones moved quite soothingly, while a painting done in fiery reds spun about energetically. In contrast to the complex paintings, interspersed between the tables stood pedestals with simple silver sculptures, each suggesting a woman’s curves.


Draco sat in one of the large chairs near the back of the room, and sighed in approval as it relaxed his tense neck muscles. Mmm… These must be charmed with a muscle relaxing spell. Clever girl.


After ordering some tea from Roderick, he settled down to watch the show.


At the moment, there didn’t seem to be much going on. Men and women in ridiculously tight outfits were stretching on stage, gleaming with sweat. Granger wasn’t even on stage, but was chatting with a few of the female dancers on the floor, sipping slowly on a bottle of water as she lectured to them about something or other.


He wasn’t paying attention to that, however.


He was fascinated by her outfit.


Sexy in its simplicity, it consisted of a brief black top that supported her breasts and a tiny pair of black shorts. Each clung to her body like a second skin. Each exposed a jaw-dropping amount of pale skin.


Raised in traditional wizarding society, Draco was not accustomed to woman blatantly exposing their bodies in public. He had heard that muggle fashion was shocking and lewd, especially for females. In the Slytherin house, all of the girls had conformed to the strict dress codes imposed by Pureblood Society. The only time he had seen muggle fashion for himself, really, was on the weekend trips to Hogsmeade. Then the mudblood girls would dress in the scandalously short skirts and indecently tight jumpers without a care in the world. As if they were better than the pureblood girls.


It was disgusting.


Even more disgusting was the fact that the muggle fashion looked so damn good.


Especially on Granger.


Not as bold as the other mudbloods, she would still wear those tight blue trousers that made her arse look better than a million galleons.


Not that he had noticed or anything.


Right.


At the moment, Granger was toweling off the sweat that had accumulated on her face while absent-mindedly listening to one of her dancers. Moving her horrendous blond hair off to the side, she slowly wiped up the excess moisture. Picking up her cold water bottle, she placed it on her neck and closed her eyes, sighing in relief. Draco felt an answering twitch in his groin.


He quickly jerked his eyes away. To keep his mind from going down paths it was not supposed to tread, he instead focused on a small group of men off to one side of the stage. Mostly unremarkable, plain, specimens he mused. There was, however, one exception. Tall and athletic, he had bright, close-cropped hair. His face was breathtaking. Almost too pretty to be masculine, his features were perfectly proportioned.


Draco didn’t like him.


He especially didn’t like him when Granger, coming off from her break, casually walked up to him and started making conversation. From the small gestures she was making with her hands, she seemed to be explaining some dance step, but Draco couldn’t care less. He was focused on her eyes, her lips. She seemed so animated. It was as if she was half alive before, and it took this pretty-boy to wake her up. Like Sleeping Beauty and her goddamn Prince. Revolting.


All too soon, the other men had moved off to one side of the stage and the pretty boy and Granger were walking towards the center. She spoke quietly to the man, and he nodded. She turned to the band lounging down in the pit off to the side of the stage to begin playing. Taking their partner’s hand, they looked in each other’s eyes for a few moments.


Then they spun into a flurry of motion.


To the sounds of a throbbing beat, the man took Granger in his arms and held her close. Indecently close. One hand held hers, but the other was resting on her exposed waist, slowly inching down to the curve arse. Moving in unison, feet flying, they danced around the stage in close contact.


Suddenly, the music slightly changed its beat and the man actually picked Granger up, and she straddled his waist! Spinning around briefly in this position, she was quickly put down, but the damage had been done. The man was dead. Eviscerated. Disemboweled. Draco had a dungeon full of fun torture devices that he was usually too squeamish to use. But he would make an exception for this man.


Draco could pinpoint the exact moment she noticed him. Even though he was preoccupied with pleasant thoughts of the pretty boy’s imminent death, he was still watching her closely. She was spinning with a large, fake smile pasted on her lips, then that over-pretty prat caught her and dipped her so she was facing the audience. Her hard, glittering eyes focused on the audience completely for time. When she saw him in his comfortable chair, her eyes widened, and her sham of a smile faltered for the first time.


He smirked at her and gave a mocking little wave of his fingers, glad that he could so easily attract her attention from the dance she so obviously loved.


Unfortunately for him, another dancer was also watching Granger with the same attention as he was. Noticing her faltering expression, the girl looked in the direction of Granger’s gaze and spotted him. Narrowing her eyes, she regarded him for a few moments, than seemed to come to some conclusion about him in her head. Without looking behind her, she bounced over in his direction, stumbling into a table on her way.


Rolling his eyes, he ignored her presence, instead focusing on Granger twirling in the other man’s arms. As he saw the man lift her over his head in an impressive act of strength, gripping tightly to her inner thighs, he felt an involuntary growl build up in his throat.


“Derek is gayer than a lark in springtime, you know.”


Draco blinked, his intense focus interrupted to look at the girl now sitting in the cushy chair next to him. Attractive enough, he supposed, with pretty features, although her hair was a strange shade of yellow that he was certain couldn’t be natural. Bright blonde was believable, sure, (look at his own hair) but neon yellow?


The girl seemed to make herself right at home, helping herself to a cup of tea, while watching the pair dance. Just as Draco was about to tell her to leave, she spoke up.


“She can dance us all into the floor, you know. Helena has amazing stamina. She’s almost inhuman!”


Attention captured by the presumptuous girl, he studied her for a moment before commenting, “What do you mean by that?”


“Well, not all of us wanted to be dancers; it just was one of the only options to us of mixed blood. I am just too clumsy to make a decent performer, but Helena was nice enough to take me in anyway. Two left feet. So I dance in the back and help with other things.”


Draco was watching Granger during this speech, half listening, watching her flip around, watching her hips sway. “Mmm-hmmm. Right. So, erhm, Helena is a super-dancer. Why am I not surprised? I don’t see anything special about her.” It was a bit of a lie, but he never liked admitting (even to himself) that Granger was especially good at things. It threw his worldview off kilter, and made him think strange thoughts at night as he was going to sleep…


“Well you should! It is as if she lives the dance. She can dance longer than Derek even, and he was a ballet dancer before… well, before.”


Granger had caught his eyes again in a smouldering, angry look. A ‘What-the-hell-are-you-doing-here’ sort of look. It was sexy. Then that feminine bastard cupped one firm thigh and pulled her hips up to his in a very naughty dip. That would have been sexy if it wasn’t another man with his hands all over her bare skin.


“Mister? Oi! Mister, are you listening?” The annoying girl had apparently been speaking for some time, and he wasn’t paying attention. What the hell was wrong with him? Granger wasn’t that attractive! He couldn’t let his senses be dulled, especially now that his life was on the line.


With that in mind, he turned to the girl with a charming smile. “I’m sorry, I was thinking about something else, would you mind repeating what you said?”


For some reason, his charming behavior seemed to make her wary of him. “Nothing of importance, really, just telling you that the rehearsal is almost over… Oh! Have you ever heard Helena sing? I absolutely love her voice! Such an amazing talent, you know, I was so surprised when I first met her…”


Tuning out the annoyance next to him, Draco focused on the woman on the stage. Now her partner was red in the face and breathing heavily, but impressively still swinging her at the same fast tempo as they started. Granger’s skin was glistening and her breathing was a bit elevated, but she looked nowhere near as worn out as her partner. Maybe that annoying girl was right after all.


Suddenly, the handsome man picked Granger up by the waist and tossed her up in the air. For one breathless moment, Draco thought that she might hit the ground, instead, she spun gracefully and was plucked out of the air by her partner.


Tucking one sleek thigh next to the pretty boy, lifting her arms in her final pose, she opened her eyes. And looked directly at Draco.


Surprised by the amount of emotion in them, he was held captive. Excitement, fear, regret, pain, and others he couldn’t even begin to name.


But only for a moment. The shield of control she held around herself was lifted only for a moment, then shut completely. She looked cold in comparison.


Finally breaking his gaze, she dropped the pose and spoke to her Company, “Call at eight sharp. Rest up; we have an exhausting show tonight.”


She stepped down off the stage, wiping the gleaming sweat off her body with a towel graciously provided by one of the eager male members of her troupe. Smiling a bit abstractedly at him, her eyes kept wandering back to where Draco was sitting.


Good. He didn’t want to be the only one distracted out of his mind.


She made an announcement regarding the call hour for the show, and slowly made her way over to where he was sitting. Looking askance at his unsolicited companion, she briefly smirked.


“Tanya… Don’t you have props to move?”


The girl, Tanya, pulled a face and whined “Do I have to? I mean, I moved all the props last week!”


Granger just leveled one of her superior looks on the girl, and after a brief battle of wits, the girl bowed her head in submission.


“Fine, fine. I’ll see you tonight at eight, right Helena?”


“Absolutely.”


The girl briefly looked up, and with concerned eyes older than her years, she seemed to communicate some unspoken message to Granger.


Granger’s razor eyes briefly softened, and she squeezed the girl’s hand. “Yes. I’ll definitely see you tonight.”


Contented, the girl bounced away, but not before giving Draco a cheeky wave and a wink. Nonplussed, he turned to Granger, who was looking at him in amusement.


“I see you have met our Tanya. Lovely girl is she not?”


Draco raised an elegant brow and sniffed, “If you like hyperactive, clumsy chipmunks perhaps.”


Granger’s mouth widened to an approximation of a smile. It didn’t quite reach her eyes, but it was still the closest thing to a genuine smile he had seen on her face since finding her again.


And it was because of him.

000

As Granger led him down the corridors to her dressing room, he couldn’t help but notice the sway of her hips, the smoothness of the exposed skin of her back, the tightness of her bottom. Get a grip! She is just a woman, and I’ll need all my wits about me for this conversation.


Arriving at her bland dressing room, he carefully closed the door behind them. Granger lost no time and rounded on him. “Malfoy. You’re early.”


Draco smirked, “And you are as charming as ever, I see. Still no manners?”


She arched a brow, and said, “Certainly not for you. You’re not worth it.”


“Now, now, haven’t we gotten past these childish barbs?”


She assessed him with a scathing look, “Perhaps. Perhaps not. Anyway, I need to wash up.” She gave a mocking little curtsey, which only emphasized how little she actually had on. “Please make yourself at home while I take a quick shower.”


Without a second glance at him she moved towards a small door near the bar, which he assumed was the bath. Looking around the room, he saw that it was just as dull as it was the first time. Damn.


Settling down on the sofa as he did last time, he mentally prepared himself to read an excruciatingly vapid issue of Witch Weekly. Flipping open to an article on how to magically remove unwanted body hair, he sniggered quietly at the silliness of the female species.


Sometime while wholly engrossed in the excruciating decisions of lavender robes versus pink when attending a formal ball, a small house elf popped into the room carrying a large tray.


Looking surprised to see him, the elf stammered, “I is sorry Sir! Mistress Helena is not tellings me that she is having company for supper tonight. Should Bitsy be getting more food?”


“Yes. You do that.” Draco said in a frosty tone. He rather enjoyed terrorizing Granger’s House Elf, if only for the slight amusement. He was so bored, and he was certain Granger was doing it to him on purpose.


Squeaking in terror, the Elf quickly disappeared from sight, no doubt to punish herself for displeasing him. Serves Granger right.


As if thinking about her acted as a summoning spell, Granger opened the door to the little washroom, letting out a huge cloud of steam. Clad only in the little violet robe she had on last time, Draco noticed that while her skin was rosy from a hot shower, her hair was perfectly dry. Hair drying charm then. Must be useful. Maybe Granger would give me the incantation? Gah Draco! Thinking about her as if she were a normal human being. She’d be more likely to give me a balding hex.


When he finally got a glimpse of her face, he was surprised. For the first time since meeting her again, she wasn’t wearing any makeup. He was astonished to find that she was actually still quite beautiful without it. Her fair, clear skin glowed from the shower, pink lips and dark eyes unadorned were still stunning. Just different.


“Uh, Malfoy?”


Snapping his gaze up to her vaguely amused eyes, he wondered how long he had been staring at her. Clearing his throat, he gestured to the silver tray. “Your house elf delivered your supper. If we could get to business?”


Granger sniffed prettily as she sat at her dressing table, “Well aren’t you quite the spoilt one. Always have to have your own way in everything. No fun for the rest of us.”


Any reply from him was squelched when the tiny House Elf (Tiny wasn’t it?) delivered another tray heaping with a large assortment of food. Looking at Granger nervously out of the corner of her eyes, she addressed Draco, “Bitsy is bringings all sorts of food to Master. If none is to your likings, than Bitsy will go back to the kitchens to get more.”


Granger, eyes hard, looked from him to the tiny Elf, and then answered for him! “No, Bitsy, this will be perfectly all right. Are you sure you wouldn’t like this nice scarf I knitted yesterday? It’s so warm…”


Draco sneered as the House Elf squeaked in terror, then promptly burst into tears. Amid much sobbing, Granger tried to calm the creature, telling her there was no need for banging her head against the wardrobe, yes, she was a good Elf, no, Granger didn’t think Bitsy should iron her ears. Haughty cow. At least some things will never change.


Reassured that this was still the same Granger of his schooldays, Draco leisurely poured himself a cuppa and selected a chocolate biscuit from a plate. That annoying bint earlier completely ruined my tea.


By the time the Elf calmed down enough to pop back to wherever she came from Draco had fully made himself comfortable on the couch, tea in hand, wand in the other. Absently twirling it through his fingers, he observed her demeanor. Much more relaxed than last week, to be sure. Oddly so. As if I wouldn’t back up my threats!


It was a disquieting thought. Would he turn her in if he had to? He liked to think he would, but he wasn’t so sure. With his unstable situation she might tip the scales of his fate either way. He might be completely redeemed in the eyes of his lord, and that thrice-damned traitor would be punished instead. On the other hand, it might make the Dark King even more wary of his power, and speed up his plans to kill him. Draco sighed. But that doesn’t give Granger any reason to be so damned confident around me! What is she up to?


Her pale face calm and composed, she prettily ate her light supper. Well, at least someone taught her how to eat like a human. He thought grudgingly, Her manners are almost as fine as mine.


When she was sipping her final cup of tea, she gave him a searching look, as if she was trying to stare into his soul. Her guard seemed to slip a little, and he felt his skin begin to burn. He felt so… so alive while he was with her. It was completely wrong on so many levels, but oh, she felt so completely right.


Surprisingly, he was the first to break the strange spell that had come over them. He gestured with his wand for her to come closer. Shields had come over her eyes again, and he couldn’t tell what she was thinking anymore, if he ever could at all. She obligingly stood and sat at the other end of the sofa.


“Why are you doing this for me? Honestly, I thought you were smarter than this.” Draco was completely surprised at the question that came out of his mouth. He had meant to ask her about the plot against his life, but somehow his brain decided to take a vacation as he breathed in her freshly showered scent. Good idea, give her a plan of escape. You are a fully-grown Slytherin, not a first-year Hufflepuff! That had all the intelligence of a ten-ton flobberworm.


“Malfoy… Why would I want to destroy my life, everything I have worked for?”


He pondered this answer for a moment. While it seemed reasonable, something about it wasn’t adding up. “I don’t know, you tell me.”


“Malfoy, let me live what little life I have left… Please.”


It was the ‘please’ that did it. Something about Granger begging him for anything made him so aroused that his mind automatically shifted to fantasies of beds and silken cords and begging in a much more sinful way.


“All I want is to be left undisturbed. If I give you this information, I want a guarantee. You or your actions will have nothing to do with unsettling my life in any way.”


She had pinned him with that razor sharp stare, the one that was so unlike any expression he had seen on her at Hogwarts. It jolted him out of any lustful fantasies he had been having. Her face, devoid of makeup, looked as close as it ever had to her previous self, but the eyes… No, the eyes were too hard. It made him suspect her words, suspect her motives.


He moved, sinuously, towards her on the sofa to breathe softly in her ear. “And no thoughts of… revenge? Revenge for all that you have lost?”


Because he was so close (Ah, so close) to her, he couldn’t see her expression, but he felt her body stiffen. From outrage or nerves, he couldn’t be sure.


Just as softly, just as smoothly, she whispered, “And why would I want to do that? At this rate your Dark King will decimate wizard kind himself, and I will not have to lift a finger.”


Taken aback, he jerked away from their sham embrace to look at her face. Perfectly composed, but without emotion. She was hiding something.


“Explain.”


She sighed and turned away from him to look at an uninteresting potted plant sitting nearby, and spoke quietly as if thinking aloud, “How do I explain without getting technical? Perhaps I can compare it to something you will know about.” She turned to him, “Malfoy, do you breed animals?”


Blinking at the seemingly irrelevant question, he replied almost automatically, “Erhm, yes, Aethonon flying horses, actually. But almost all pureblooded families breed something.”


She took a deep breath. “Good, perhaps this will be easier to explain then.”


“When a population of creatures - which could be horses, dogs, hippogriffs, dragons, anything - becomes too isolated, than odd things begin happening. Strange diseases, stillbirths, malformities, and lots of other things that run in specific families. Things that cannot be cured by magic.”


She paused in her lecture, and Draco was reminded of a certain bushy-haired girl in Potions, eagerly explaining the properties of some irrelevant ingredient. Annoyed that she was making him nostalgic, no matter how unintentional, he make a quick motion for her to get on with it.


Glaring, she made a disgruntled noise in the back of her throat. “Anyway, these problems are commonly attributed to ‘bad blood’ in the wizarding world, but muggles know the exact reason. It’s due to the lack of… variation in the individuals of the population. When there are no outside individuals coming into the population, there is no new ‘blood’ to cancel out the blood that has invariably gone ‘bad’ over time due to perfectly natural causes.”


Draco was intrigued. Blood causing illness? In men like it did with animals? A memory of his mother when he asked why she didn’t have any more children flashed through his mind.


Narcissa gave a small, sad smile and said, “Oh, we did try darling. I… I just couldn’t seem to carry any more children to term.”


He cleared his throat and asked, “What sort of diseases are you talking about?”


Granger tilted her head in that way she had when thinking. “Well, I think that the high incidence of squibs in recent years is due to this phenomenon. Probably the stillbirths as well. And with the new social order and the refusal to see muggle science as a way to explain and cure these problems, I don’t see wizarding society lasting very long.”


She leaned in, so close that her pink lips were almost touching his. Eyes glittering, she said, “So you see Malfoy, why would I need to take revenge? You are doing it for me. You are breeding yourselves out of existence and you don’t even know it.”


Sitting back onto the couch, Draco shoved this information into a small corner of his mind to ponder later. Clearing his throat, he said, “Well, that seems… reasonable. Now that I am assured that you are not staying in the wizarding world to harm me or my own, we can get to the real business. Is this location secure?”


Granger gave him a look that told him it was a stupid question.


“Right. Over-achiever strikes again.”


“Just shove it.”


Walking over to her dressing table, she bent over to open one of the drawers, giving him a marvelous view of her arse in the process. His mouth went dry, and it was all he could to stop himself from staking over there and taking her against that dainty little vanity.


Oblivious to his bent of thought, she plucked out a sheet of parchment from the drawer, and gracefully handed it to him.


Simple and to the point, it basically said that the information received would be given in exchange for the life and privacy of one Hermione Granger.


To be sealed in blood.


Magically.


Well, I guess she wasn’t called the smartest witch in one hundred years for nothing. Unhappy with the situation, but seeing no way out of it, Draco took a tiny platinum knife out of his robes.


Granger eyes it appraisingly, “Lovely piece there. Heirloom, I presume?”


Draco smirked, “Of course. Let’s get this bloody thing over with so I know who I need to destroy.”


Granger mirrored his smirk, “After you.”


Grimacing as the knife slashed through the tender flesh of his hand, Draco made a small cut. Squeezing a few drops onto the parchment, he saw the blood soak and disappear into the enchanted document.


Granger took the knife from him and repeated the process, although to Draco’s embarrassment, she didn’t flinch when the knife bit into her skin.


She took out her wand and muttered briefly over the parchment, and then blood-red letters started to appear. Draco watched, outwardly nonchalant, inwardly quaking, as his signature and Granger’s appeared in blood. Binding.


What have I done?


Saved my life.


Committed treason!


Saved my life.


Life won. Most definitely.


Draco turned to Granger and growled, “Give me a name. Now.”


She looked at him calmly and said, “Theodore Nott and Peter Pettigrew. But Nott is the mastermind.”


He took a moment to absorb the information, and rolling it though his quick mind. Can’t say I am surprised. That skinny bastard has always hated me, even at Hogwarts…


Granger looked almost sympathetic, eyes softening minutely. She sighed, “Now will you get the hell out of here? I have a show that I need to get ready for.”


Almost sympathetic.


000

Lying in bed that night, naked under the silk sheets, he was kept awake by snippets of the conversation with Granger.


Something seemed wrong about the whole thing… Something…


His head snapped up as he realized it.


She had never really answered his question about revenge… she had only repeated it. And revenge over the long term never did suit the impetuous Gryffindor.


Malfoy, why would I need to take revenge?


Why indeed?





000

A/N1: Sorry for the wait! It was so hard to write this chapter. I either had the time and no inspiration, or no time and lots of inspiration. Ick. Anyway, I hope this was satisfying.
A/N2: As a genetics major, it was incredibly difficult to write that last part about ‘blood’ without getting technical! I mean a wizard wouldn’t even understand the terms DNA or genes! Hope I did well enough to explain the theory behind it.
A/N3: The particular breed of flying horses is from Fantastic Beasts.
A/N4: Thanks to my sparkly new beta Cecilia Voss! She did a lovely job with this chapter.