4.1 | Draconian ✓

42 | sectumsempra

A/N

No, your eyes aren't deceiving you, it is a Draconian update! Double update because it's 6th Feb, my birthday! For you Slow Dancing readers — that story is officially done! (Which you can read in full for free, you know, if you just watch ads to earn coins...)

What this means is great news for you Draconian readers, because updates will now be once a week! I usually like to update on Fridays/weekends (today is a one-off), so please feel free to give me a little nudge if I forget. And after this will be the long-anticipated Astoria — which will feature all major characters from this story. Whoever's still alive, that is.

Also really IMPORTANT — I've received some messages from people concerned that I'm not writing any of my original fiction anymore. I appreciate the concern, but there's no need to worry. I've spent years writing for comments and approval. It's been a difficult habit to kick, so lately I've been trying this thing where I write offline, for myself, and post a new story only when I'm done with it.

Well, I'm almost 3/4 through my next project, and trust me, it's a big one. It's something many of you have been waiting for a long time.

xNoelle

    

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4 2

s e c t u m s e m p r a

Slashes target.

DRACO, NEVILLE AND Ron were the last to return that night. Neville excused himself, saying that he had to report back to let Shacklebolt know he was fine. After Neville apparated off, Draco headed into the kitchen to treat his wounds.

Ron followed him, begrudging respect on his face as he surveyed Draco. "I still think you're a prick, by the way," he said. "But what you did for Neville tonight - I really appreciate that."

"Save it, Weasel, McGonagall sent us on the mission," Draco returned, frowning at the way the sleeve of his jacket was matted to the dried blood on his arm. "Diffindo." The sleeve ripped to shreds, and he tugged it off, before running his arm under the tap.

"Yeah, but you could've died protecting Neville. Most of the curses those Death-Eaters used were lethal ones." Ron paused, dragging a lengthy sigh out before looking back up again. "You think I could be a part of your team?"

Draco's lips twitched. "Why, Weasel - "

"Don't be a prick about it, Malfoy."

"Force of habit." Draco smirked, reaching over to the shelf to grab several phials of blood-replenishing potions, tossing one to Ron. "How do I know if I can trust you?"

Ron shrugged and reached into the pocket of his jacket. Leaning over, he placed something on the kitchen counter. When he drew back, Draco saw the Resurrection Stone sitting on the counter, the familiar shard of silver glinting under the dim ceiling light.

"I don't know if I can trust you either," Ron replied evenly. "But Hermione seems to, and that's good enough for me."

Draco paused. He couldn't sworn he heard a faint rustle somewhere close, but he couldn't be entirely sure. Turning back to Ron, he gave a short nod. "Okay."