AN- Okay, this being my first semi-serious fic, I wanted to rewrite it.  That and I already have the sequel planned out.  I can't believe it turned out to be almost ten pages!  Wow!   I hope   everyone likes it.  It is quite different from its predecessor, at least how I begun is.

DISCLAIMER- I don't own anything you recognize.  I don't own Elfish and I don't own Harry Potter.  If I did I'd be rich and writing the sixth book at the moment.  (^_^). 

Remember- if you read, be courteous and review! 

White Walls

Chapter One:  The Tournament

Incessant buzzing. Being only half-awake, James smashed the source. He felt pain shoot up his arm. This jolted James awake. He looked at the somewhat broken clock and saw that it was eight-thirty. He was late.

"SIRIUS, WAKE UP!" He yelled to a twin bed next to him. Sirius Black, his best friend, had been staying overnight at his house.

"MMMMPH!" He replied.

"We'll be late." He said, putting on his glasses, bringing the clean, white room into focus. It was somewhat small with white walls. Resting against one of them were two twin beds with rod-iron like details, a door and two bed stands separating them. On the wall opposite to the beds was an open French glass door, causing white curtains to blow, creating a wonderful contrast against a warm wood floor.

James got out of bed and went to the bathroom. Smiling smugly, he filled a glass to brimming with cold water. "Sirius, get up now! We don't want to be late for the tournaments."

"James, SHUT UP!" Sirius replied irritably.

"I'm warning you…" He replied calmly. Sirius, however, just rolled over and went back to sleep. "Don't say I didn't warn you…" He whispered, trailing off. James tipped the cup allowing a thick trickle of water to pour on his friend, who shot out of bed so immediately that he caused the entire glass to upend on him. With a cry of fury he began chasing James around the room.

"I'M GONNA FREAKIN' KILL YOU!" Sirius shouted, along with several obscenities, hurtling over a bed to catch up to his prey.

James grinned as he ran, Sirius hated early mornings.

Ten minutes later, they ventured downstairs. "Finally!" His mother said, rushing around the kitchen, her hair up in a knob. "We'll be late! Hurry up and eat! We have to be there in five minutes!" His mother had ebony hair and an extremely pale complexion. She always moved extraordinarily gracefully, as if she were a swan.

The two teens looked at each other, both recognizing the irritated _expression and ate the fastest breakfast they had ever eaten. They surely didn't want to miss the dueling tournaments that were starting today. The modern tournament was basically a carnival for wizards. They had several different categories of fighting. The first and most traditional was the Wizard's duel, where magic was used to fight. The second was Sword Fighting, where they had a category for adolescents ages 15-17. This yearly tournament was held in a different country every year and often referred to as 'the world cup of swordsmanship'. It was currently being held in Nottingham, England.

This year, there was a more exiting competition commencing. Different wizarding schools from across the world were competing to gain the title of superior dueling skills in both swords and magic. James couldn't wait to see who represented Hogwarts.

The Potters, and Sirius, soon finished breakfast and port key-ed over to the festival. They stood in front of a mammoth multi-leveled burgundy tent. They walked through the flap to reveal a smoky, loud, crowded room.

"Mum, we're going to go see the school competition!" James shouted over the noise.

"Okay honey, be safe!" She responded. "We're going to see some relatives."

"Relatives?" James asked feeling semi-surprised. His family didn't interact with their relatives very often. Many of them now lived overseas. In fact, last time he checked, his Uncle James lived in the Soviet Union.

"Yes honey, relatives." She said, striding off before he could ask any questions.

"Come on, mate." Sirius called, walking through the crowd, "It's going to start!" They climbed up three rope ladders, then entering a huge hall, full of people, with ten people standing on a large, raised platform. There was a large banner that read, "International Scholastic Dueling Tournament". They were so far back the people beneath the banner were no bigger than seven inches.

A man with a long, white beard got up to speak. He recognized him as Albus Dumbledore. He also immediately realized that he had missed at least half of the speech. "Yes… thank you Mr. Chen." His magically magnified voice said. "Now it is time to introduce the candidates. First of all, I am Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts. Next, representing the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is Lucius Malfoy, Frank Longbottom, and Severus Snape." The three boys stepped onto the platform.

"How did SNAPE get to compete?" He asked crossly. He had hated the git since the moment when they first met in the bookstore, Flourish and Blotts.

"I don't know…" Sirius said in disgust. He also disliked Snape.

Professor Dumbledore stepped aside and a tall, thin wizard with balding mousy brown hair took his place. His deep, voice had an American accent to it. "I am Headmaster Quincy B. Tibbens. Representing the Savannah School of Sorcery is Vanessa Chase," The first (and only) girl walked up to the platform, "David Echo, and Trent Evans." The two other boys walked on stage.

The other headmasters presented their students, and soon thirty teenagers were standing on the stage. Then Professor Dumbledore took the lead again. "Let the games begin." He said, smiling. The crowd cheered excitedly. "The competition will begin at eleven. Our first pair is Chan and Malfoy." A short Asian boy stepped forward, as did Lucius Malfoy.

"One last note before everyone leaves," He said, folding his hands, "The prize for this tournament is this saber. If you will, Headmaster Tibbens?" The same balding man stepped foreword holding a long narrow package covered with white canvas.

"This sword," Headmaster Tibbens started, taking off the canvas coverings (which was a difficult task, it had several strings tied around it as well) "Is not only of the finest steel, but it has magical protective ruins in it as well. Good luck to all of the contestants. Remember, the first match begins at eleven sharp."

Everyone took that as a dismissal. The crowd on the platform slowly filed off, and most of the crowd surrounding it left. They slowly walked to the front where Frank Longbottom was having an avid conversation with Trent Evans and Vanessa Chase. "Hey Frank!" James said, walking up to the group.

"Hey James, Hey Sirius!" He responded, grinning. "This is Van." He said, pointing to the girl, who was of a moderate height and had long, dark blonde hair that stretched to small of her back. She had sapphire blue eyes along with a rather boyish smile. 'Probably from hanging around with the guys so often.' He thought. She didn't particularly look like a tom boy at the moment, but he supposed she was forced to look proper for the competition.
"And this is Trent." He said, gesturing to the guy. He had soft brown hair that covered his eyes. He had an athlete's body and held himself rather gracefully. His black shoes were so shiny he could see his reflection in them.

"Hey y'all." Trent responded. James noted that Trent, too, had an American accent. He elongated all of his vowels. James had heard that referred to as a "Southern accent".

Both of the teens were outfitted in rather odd school uniforms, which they hadn't noticed because they were standing so far back. They were wearing white oxford shirts with vertically stripped dark and light blue ties. The blazer they wore was also dark blue and the pants (In Van's case skirt) were dark blue with a light blue plaid pattern.

"I'm James Potter." He said to the foreigners, who nodded.

"And I'm Sirius Black. Baby, I bet you came OVER here just to see me." He joked, directed at Van.

"How did you know?" She said in a heavy American accent. "I mean- am I that transparent?" She added, laughing with him.

"You are." Sirius replied cheekily.

Van then took a step foreword, and fell immediately. Trent burst out laughing while Van got up, face red. Sirius helped her up. She cursed. "-high heels. I wish I wasn't required to wear these stupid things." She said bitterly.

Everyone laughed, even Van. "It's so much fun seeing you her in school and seeing her dueling. It's like two different people."

"Oh?" Van asked, hands on her hips, raising an eyebrow. "And why is that?"

"Because you're damn clumsy." He said grinning.

"HEY!" Van said, a vindictive look entering her eyes. "That's it. The heels are coming OFF!" She said, only half serious, taking off her light blue high heels.

"Oh yeah?" He asked, looking completely serious, but he had a happy gleam in his eye.

"Yeah." Van said. "And when I get a hold of you you'll wish you'd never been born." She said, in mock-anger. James got the impression this was all some big game.

"YOU'LL HAVE TO CATCH ME FIRST!" He said, running off in his gleaming black dress shoes, his shoes making a clopping sound. Van dropped her shoes and immediately ran after him, giggling.

"You'll have to excuse them. They do it before every big dueling match they participate in." Said a new voice behind James. James turned around. A tall boy with strawberry blonde hair was standing behind them, wearing the same unusual uniform as his school-mates and a good-natured smile. "I think its nerves. They know each other very well, Trent and Van. Even before school, I heard." He continued. James noticed that the other person, too, had a southern accent. "My name is David, David Echo." He said, almost lazily. Out of the corner of his vision he could still see Van chasing Trent around the now almost deserted room.

"What bad manners." Sirius said, in a mock stuck-up voice. James laughed.

"Well..." David said nervously, "You know, they're not being serious..." He realized that David didn't realize that Sirius was kidding.

"He was kidding, mate." James said to the now flustered southerner.

"They should stop before the Headmaster sees. We got a huge lecture about how to act in other countries. Hm... I'm sure they don't want detention for the rest of the year. How to get them to stop… Hm…" David said, thinking for a minute. "OH!" He said, suddenly, his eyes lighting up, proceeding to shout, "HOW'S AMERICA'S FAVORATE COUPLE?" Van and Trent stopped in their tracks, both sending similar looks of horror in David's direction. After murmuring something to one another, both stomped over, glaring at David.

"If you wanted us to stop you could have just SAID so." Van said with a dignified air. Realization struck James. She was embarrassed.

"Yeah, you could have." Trent snapped. James saw that he, too, was discomfited.

"Anyways." Frank said, trying to stop any more argument. "I'm nervous about OWLs this year. Do you have OWLs in America?" He asked the Yanks.

"We have standardized testing in America too, called the TKOTYWYBOFAMG." Van said.

"TKOTYWYBOFAMG?" James asked, confused, yet slightly amused.

"That Kind of Test You Work You're Butt off for a Menial Grade." The Yanks explained in unison.

"JINX!" They both corresponded to yell, again, in unison!

"YOU OWE ME A SODA!" Van exclaimed. "After the match. If you don't hurry up, you'll be late. It's Ten-thirty." She said, checking her watch.

"WHAT?!" Trent yelled, running off haphazardly.

Van sniggered. "He forgot he isn't even IN the first match. It's so much fun playing with his nerves!"

"Longbottom, maybe we should go check when our matches are." Van supposed.

"Yeah- that would be a good idea." He said, walking off with her.

"Was it just me or are they hard to understand?" Sirius asked, as they walked off in the direction of the auditorium (AN- there are space enlargement charms on the tent. That and the tent is big. Just want to clear that up…)

((.*.))((.*.))((.*.))((.*.))((.*.))

Twenty minutes later, Van was standing in front of a large, yellow chart.

"So Frank, we'll be fencing each other right?" Van commented to him.

"We are, aren't we?" He compliantly commented. "Good luck."

"Good luck to you too." Van said, smiling. She was getting such a warm welcome here. It would make it easier for her to move to England.

Suddenly, a cold voice behind her slipped over her like ice water. "Being nice to the half-breed, are you Longbottom?" Van's blood ran cold. She turned around to see two more Hogwarts students. One was tall and superior looking with blonde hair and sharp, piercing blue eyes. The other, the one that had talked, was short, hunched over, had greasy hair, and a big nose.

"I don't see any half breeds here." Said the one with the huge nose in a cold voice. "Mudbloods, yes, half breeds, no."

"I'm not half breed." Van said thickly, trying desperately to conceal her emotions. "I'm as much as a wizard as you."

"Of course you are." He retorted, nearly snickering. "I was talking about the mudblood." He said, gesturing to a girl near Van. She was a bit taller than Van with shoulder length, curly deep red hair.

She turned to reveal a beautiful heart shaped face. Her eyebrows were furrowed. "Well at least I'm not completely inept, Malfoy. Is there a problem here?"

The two boys sauntered off with a 'humph'.

"Nalye lumbule ore." ((Thou art a shadow heart)) She muttered under her breath. Did he know? How would he? She was curious, that was all. Some people referred to her as half breed, others mudblood and the people left either didn't know or didn't say anything. Not many people knew that Van was half elf.

"What did you say?" The girl said, turning towards her with interest.

"Nothing…" Van replied nervously. She wasn't supposed to speak elfish out of her home. Her mother, who was a full elf, had implemented this rule. At first it was rather hard, because Quenya (a form of Elfish), was her first language. "What school do you go to?" She asked, quickly changing the subject.

"I go to Hogwarts." The girl answered, smiling brightly. Her voice was warm and a bit higher pitched than normal, but not in an annoying way. It was a contrast to Van's voice, which was naturally a bit lower than normal and slightly musical. "By the way, my name's Lily, Lily Evans." She finished.

"I'm Vanessa Chase. But, please, call me Van. Don't you go there too?" She asked Frank, who nodded.

"Actually, I'm going to go there next year too." Van said. Frank looked somewhat surprised, but Lily smiled even wider.

"That's great!" Lily said. "Are you going to be a fifth year?" She asked Van, who nodded. "Really? I am too. We'll have fun next year." She said, with an air of confidence.

"Great." Van said, "I'm sure we will." She had just made a new friend, and for a change, it was a girl.

Suddenly, Trent came running over. "I'M NOT IN THE FIRST MATCH, VAN!" He yelled over her snickering.

"Trent," She said calmly, "Meet Lily Evans." She continued, ignoring his choking gestures, "Lily, this sorry excuse for a fencer is Trent Evans. Say, are you too related?" She finished, successfully distracting Trent.

"I donno…" They said, at the same moment, both unsure.

At that moment, Van looked down at her watch to discover twenty more minutes had passed. "I got to go." Van said, with a nervous air. "My match starts at eleven thirty, and it's Eleven ten! I gotta go! Bye!" She said, waving while she ran off to the dressing rooms. She stopped only once to pull a map out of her blazer pocket, and after she tripped. This happened several times.

As soon as she entered the white dressing room she saw a looming figure. She recognized it immediately as her mother. "I'm sorry I'm late. I was just meeting a few of the locals." Van said timidly. As wise as her mother was, she hated to be late, or when anyone else was for that matter. She was a real presence in the room. She was tall and held herself in a high statute. Yet she looked quite humble, in an odd way. She also looked much younger than her age of approximately 1,000 years old. She had bright blonde hair and deep blue gazing pools of eyes. Her ears were elongated and tapered to an edge. She usually wore a scarf or a woolen balaclava in public, but in this case, she had taken it off, and it lay on a wooden bench, disregarded.

Van sighed. She knew her mother hated wearing all of the scarves and baklavas, but it was important that she wear them. The first reason being elfes were not known to muggles, and the second reason being elfes were seen as a bit crazy in England. They had lost their high statute and gained a reputation of foolishness, if they were remembered at all. Elves were a dying species and with the now rising Voldermort trying to get their knowledge about immortality, they were under severe scrutiny with his followers. She knew this personally. They had lived in England for a month after they left the elf colony. She had been nine. She also hadn't known very much English, for that matter. Her mother, who bore no scarf then, had been insulted and tortured to the point that it got so bad they had to move. They moved to America. Her mother wore a scarf there, even though elfes weren't under such ruthless scrutiny. Van hadn't looked back since.

"It's okay my child." She said in their native language. They continued with small talk until the match started. Van felt a rush of nervousness flow over her like river rapids in the Savannah River. Time passed, and so did the match, which she won, along with another. She didn't have to fight in the third heat, which automatically put her in semi finals, which, she defeated a Chinese Sorcerer in a Wizard's duel. She was pretty proud of herself considering she hated dueling with magic.

((.*.))((.*.))((.*.))((.*.))((.*.))

"Good luck." Van saluted Malfoy with barely a twitch of her wrist.

"Don't need it." He replied and barely allowed his wrist to bend as he returned the traditional gesture. An oily smile crept across his face as he bent into the engard stance. Fighting back fury, Van's knees bent into a similar stance, her heels each at ninety-degree angles to one another. Both adversaries slipped on their masks, Malfoy throwing a smug glare in Van's direction.

"Swordsman ready?" The referee stepped up beside the list and glanced at each opponent.

Van nodded, the strap of her mask slipping down and knocking hair into her eyes.

"Yes." Malfoy's grin was still visible threw the grate of his headgear.

"I want a clean match, from both of you." The referee, a small squat man glared in Malfoy's direction, and nodded pointedly.

Van was almost sure she heard Malfoy scoff.

"Begin."

Neither opponent moved as Van stared daggers in Malfoy's direction. With a grin, he advanced, his sword aimed high on her chest. Van retreated three times, then with a single repose lunged and slashed across Malfoy's mask with a loud clang. A buzzer sounded near her ear.

"Point one to Miss Chase, Swordsmen back to starting positions please."

Van walked forward and took her ready at her mark. Malfoy, his smug grin somewhat faded in wattage walked backwards to his own mark and sent a singing stare right back at her.

"Swordsmen ready?" The referee asked once more. He didn't wait for a reply, "Begin."

Malfoy surged foreword, all thought apparently lost as he brought his blade crashing down on Van's. The resulting clang echoing in the room amongst the gasps of the crowd. Van reposed with as much force as she was able to and just gain some distance. Malfoy retreated, his fury glinting behind his mask in his bared teeth and angry eyes. Van charged, her sword tip pointed high, swinging back and forth. With one mislaid lunge, Malfoy parried and smacked her smartly on the shoulder, a bit harder than necessary.

"Point one to Mr. Malfoy. Back to starting positions."

Refusing to rub the spot on her shoulder where he had struck, Van crouched low and reviewed her tactics quickly. He always aimed high, and when his attack was parried he let his anger get the better of him. She would let him lunge, repose then go for his mask.

"Begin."

Van looked up and saw Malfoy crouched low, awaiting her attack. She would have to shift her focus. Van took a cautious step foreword and watched Malfoy tense up. With a determined smile, she took another step foreword. 'Where was his gaze…where does he look as I attack?' Van looked quickly for a weakness and soon found her mark. He watched her face…not her sword. Van scrunched up a twist of force and lunged low at Malfoy's legs. Malfoy, his face alight at the thought of her hitting a non-target, let her come; his sword raised to strike whatever part of her torso came closest. Van sculptured her face into a look of what she hoped was a look of "oops!' However at the last second, when Malfoy's face had all but lit up with joy, she raised her tip and struck him squarely in the stomach as hard as she could muster. Joyfully, she heard his breath whoosh out and the point buzzer go off in her ear. With a bounce in her step she turned and walked back to her mark.

"Point two to Ms. Chase. Both of you, back to starting positions, now."

Van's smile was soon lost as she saw the livid look on Malfoy's face that shone despite the grate that covered it. For once she was actually scared, though only for a moment. Wary, she dropped into engard stance once more.

"Begin."

With mild shock she was surprised when malfoy waited for her to make the attack. Van crept foreword, her sword at ready, the blade aimed at Malfoy's heart. Suddenly without warning, he lunged, closing the space between them immediately. He brought his sword down so hard against hers that her hand guard rang in her fist, the vibrations shivering up her arm. With a quick forward motion, he hooked his guard around hers, so the swords were locked on one another. Leaning foreword, he said in voice that was no more than a hiss.

"Give up Half-breed." His voice was low and all the more ominous for it. 'So he knew,' she thought.

"Never," she muttered back, anger boiling in her chest. She tugged back on her saber, trying to release it from his grasp, but his arm had become jelly, moving where she moved. With an angry growl she yanked with all her might and was rewarded with a buzz in her ear.

"Halt. Back to starting positions." The referee looked angrily in Malfoy's direction, "no more of that please."

With a curt nod, both crouched low.

"Begin."

Not surprisingly Malfoy advanced first, and fast. Within five steps he was on her, striking at her furiously with no mercy. Van tried to repose but with every parry he struck back and forced her to the line. When her guard fell low her slashed across her torso with one furious blow.

"Point two to Mr. Malfoy. Back to starting positions."

With a victorious grin Malfoy jogged back to position, all but dancing. Van was somewhat less enthusiastic. Her shoulder still hurt…but she refused to let it bother her. She shook out her aching muscles and crouched low again. He was getting arrogant, which she could use. He always watched her face…it was strange really. But that was a weakness. With a smile she nodded to the referee.

"Begin."

Neither moved. Then, with a sigh Van sauntered forward, back straight, sword raised. She looked haughty and ignorant and waited for it to annoy Malfoy to the breaking point.

It didn't take long.

Snarling, Malfoy advanced and with one burst of energy lunged through the space that separated them.

Van parried with such force that Malfoy went sprawling. With a gleeful smile she waited while he righted himself, and then struck. Shifting the tip of her blade, she swung out at his shoulder and tapped it at the exact same time that Malfoy lunged at her.

She heard two buzzers. Van looked up and grunted at the fact that both points had been awarded. They were tied.

"Points 3 to Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Chase. Back to starting positions."

Van took three steps back and contemplated her odds. She was faster than him, but then again he was stronger. He could parry her away so far that she wouldn't have time to block the repose. She sighed and crouched low once more.

"Begin."

Both opponents advanced this time. Van circled her quarry, watching his every move as he did her. He was nervous now, she could tell. And tired as well judging by the sweat that glistened on his forehead. Without warning Malfoy lunged at her mask angrily, his face contorted in concentration. Van parried quickly and reposed. Malfoy backed off, stopping every few seconds to lunge at her mask. After three parries, Van took the offensive, charging forward. When she lunged low on accident, Malfoy seized the opportunity and struck low, aiming for Van's back. Van soon realizing her mistake, shifted the angle of her sword and thrust upward, catching Malfoy in the middle of the chest.

Van stood and almost reeled backward when her head swam around her. Her back throbbed with so much sudden pain that she cried out and fell to the floor. The referee hurried over and knelt to the floor beside her.

"Ms. Chase…are you alright?" He put a hand on her shoulder then removed it quickly when she whimpered in pain.

"I'm--I'm fine. Come on." She climbed slowly to her feet (climbed being the operative word as she clung to the referee for support) and stood on her side of the list. Malfoy was on the other side, bent over heaving into a bucket.

She removed her mask and wiped her forehead. She nodded in Malfoy's direction, "what happened to him?"

The referee smiled grimly, "the blow you sent him made him puke up his breakfast…you're dangerous...for a girl." He smiled and began to walk away, then turned suddenly, "by the way…your both still tied…4 to 4."

Van nodded appreciatively and replaced her mask.

"Sword--swordsmen ready?" Asked the ref in a half laugh, eyeing the tottering form of malfoy at the other end of the list.

Malfoy had recovered slightly, though he seemed to totter on his feet a bit and he was paler through grate of his mask. He nodded. The ref looked in Van's direction. The pain had receded to a dull ache, but it still sat there like a toothache…nagging in the back of her mind.

"Begin."

Van stumbled forward, her stance completely forgotten, her sword rose as high as she could manage it. Malfoy did the same, his stance remaining but hardly what would be called good form. Van lunged, her sword aimed high, but Malfoy parried it downward and made a repose for her chest. Van parried this time, and then grit her teeth as she struck downward onto his head. Malfoy was just able to parry it away, his face contorted in the obvious pain that came from his stomach. Suddenly Van was struck with an idea. Aiming low on his torso, she lunged without any intent to actually strike him. Malfoy, for fear of any further damage to that area, covered his stomach with his hands. Taking careful aim while he was distracted, Van aimed for the hilt of his sword. When his guard was down once more she struck. With as much force that she had left, she lunged forward, hooked the blade onto the end of her sword and swung outward. With a loud clang the blade landed a good five feet away.

Malfoy stood still, shell-shocked.

Van, her _expression triumphant, walked forward and leaned into his face.

"Give up?"

Malfoy's face went from surprised to livid, "Never."

"Too-bad…it could have been a draw." She lightly touched the end of her blade to Malfoy's shoulder and pushed.

She smiled, "wow…a half-breed beating a pure-blood. Now that's unthinkable."

A buzzer sounded near there heads, though it didn't drown the furious growl that emanated from beneath Malfoy's mask.

"Point 5 to Ms. Chase. Ms. Chase wins the Championship!!!"

Cheers erupted in the crowd and Van's smile grew into a grin as she sent a smug look toward Malfoy.

"Wow…I won. Hmm. Well that means…you lost to a half-breed…and a girl. That'll do well for your image won't it?"

Van spun from him and bowed to the crowd, which was starting to flood out of the stands onto the list. With a salute to the ref she left the list…found the nearest chair and started to collapse, only to be pulled up by Trent. She had only enough energy to issue him a dirty look.

"Put me down. I'm tired." She scolded Trent, who was grinning from ear to ear and carrying a large, gold trophy.

"Don't worry," He replied happily, handing her the gleaming piece of metal, "I'll carry you. He carried out on his word by hoisting her up on his shoulders. By this time a large group of people were surrounding them, cheering. She held the trophy up well over her head, while her shoulder screamed in protest. Today had been one of the best days in her life.

AN- Okay… I would like to thank KENNIE for writing the fight scene for me.  AND thanks to LOTRseer for lending me the Elfish dictionary.  Thanks to all of those who reviewed chapter eight, much appreciated.  I hope everyone loved this chapter and I hope you all loved the new first chapter.  As you can see, I made some changes.  But none too significant (I was going to reveal her lineage soon in the original version)

SO-

Be kind and review!    (I bet you thought I was going to say rewind, right?)

THANKS IN ADVANCE!