A/N: It is an honor to create a world in the Reality of J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter. All elements found in canon are hers. All other elements situations and characters are mine.
"Harry Potter!" The strident, attention-demanding voice of Hogwarts' headmaster filled the Great Hall. The mystical 'Goblet of Fire' had minutes before chosen Cedric Diggory from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; Fleur Delacour, from Beauxbatons Academy of France; and Viktor Krum, from Durmstrang Institute of Bulgaria as champions in the renewal of the TriWizard Tournament. And now, just as it had done three other times in the previous five minutes, that goblet had flared, spitting out a piece of parchment bearing a name. Harry's.
Oddly, Harry took in the entire 360º panorama, with a sharpness of focus that belied his need for rather strong eyeglasses. Across the hall, he could see the Head Table, expanded to include the two heads of the other competing schools and three officials from the British Ministry of Magic. To his right, the Ravenclaw table, also seating the contingent from Beauxbatons. Just to the right of that were the three champions, standing by the doorway to the antechamber in which new students waited before being Sorted at the Welcome Feast on September first of each year. Farther to his right, on the other side of the huge doors opening into the hall, was Slytherin Table, hosting the guests from Durmstrang. Directly to the left of his table (Gryffindor), and between that table and the Faculty Table lay Hufflepuff Table, seating the housemates of Champion Diggory.
Harry could see all of them, observing as their faces displayed incomprehension, then starting to morph into various degrees of shock, disbelief, outrage, anger and disgust. It didn't astonish him (though it did sadden him some) to see the look of anger, disdain and jealously develop on the face of Ron Weasley, his first friend and one of his two best friends. He felt a microscopic, but heartfelt sigh of relief upon seeing the bushy-haired, brunette witch at his right hand, his truest friend Hermione Granger. Her look of shock has instantaneously turned to an attitude of determined loyalty. Not that Harry lacked any faith in her, but he knew relief and a certain calm in knowing his best friend had his back.
He leaned his slightly towards hers and commented sotto voce, "Told you I could teach Divination better than Trelawney. Glad I'm shot of it though."
"Same here." Hermione replied, matching his volume. "Get ready for the fireworks."
Harry gave an almost imperceptible nod to his one witch support system. The entire time of Harry's observations and his conversation with Hermione lasted scant milliseconds.
"Harry Potter!". This time, Dumbledore's voice was filled with both impatience and annoyance. This was a far cry from the Headmaster's usual calm, grandfatherly, 'I'm in total control of this and any other situation' voice and persona that allowed him to so effectively manage Hogwarts' students and staff. Clearly, he was as astonished as everyone else seemed to be and at a temporary loss for any meaningful course of action.
For his part, Harry had anticipated the situation. For the third time in four school years, an announcement made on September first of a school year by the revered mage had fallen on Harry like a ton of bricks on Halloween. The day and celebration he hated above all others. The albatross which had hung around his neck since Halloween, 1981. Since that date, he had endured close to ten and a half years of a living Azkaban with his 'relatives' (never his family). Since that date, an entire society and world had heaped unneeded (and undeserved) celebrity and expectations on a boy who simply wished to be just Harry Potter, student.
But, after his first three years at Hogwarts, Harry wised up. He had used the intellectual ability he inherited from his parents and had hid from most others as a protective reflex (his relatives made their displeasure felt whenever he allowed his school marks to exceed Dudley's and he could not but continue this camouflage while at Hogwarts). Along with his friend, Hermione (who knew he was nearly as smart and clever as she and understood why he hid it), he had thoroughly researched the TriWizard. He was ready on this, Monday October 31, 1994.
"Professor Dumbledore?" The reply was disingenuous. Harry knew exactly why the Headmaster had called him and what was to follow. But the last thing Harry would do was to make this easy on him or anyone else for that matter. Merlin knew, no one had ever made things easy on him. Hermione came the closest, but for reasons neither could control, the best she'd been able to do for him was to cushion the blow. Harry was content with that, it was enough and was far more than anyone else had ever done.
"Mr. Potter, the Goblet of Fire has chosen your name. This means you must join Mademoiselle Delacour, Mr. Krum and Mr. Diggory. In a few minutes, you will go into the antechamber yonder to receive the ground rules of the tournament and information concerning the First Task." The look in Dumbledore's eyes disconcerted and disturbed Harry. The shock and distrust had vanished, replaced by a calculating look that boded ill. If there was any actual concern for his well-being and health, Harry found it impossible to find.
Harry pitched his voice so as to make sure no one in the hall could mishear. "No, professor".
Dumbledore sighed theatrically. "Harry, you've no choice."
"Not so! I did not place my name in the Goblet! Everyone saw what happened to Gred and Forge Weasley when they tried and you all can see that I'm clean shaven!" Even though Harry could feel his cool ebbing away, he smiled inwardly at the sound of chuckles and giggles that ran its course through the Hall. The twin's attempt to hoodwink the Goblet had been one of the few high points of the year so far.
"Now, to make this clear: I, Harry James Potter, swear upon my life and magic that I neither placed my name in the Goblet of Fire, nor prevailed on any other person in any manner to do so in my stead. Further, I truthfully state that I have no wish to be in this atrocity and if forced to do so, will participate, NOT compete and that only under the strongest protest. As I have spoken, so mote it be!"
An enormous, blinding flash of light left all the hall blinking and rubbing their eyes. For all but a very few, any doubt of Harry vanished.
"For our guests' information this is, sadly, the usual for me. After I entered the world of magic on my eleventh birthday, six attempts were made on my life during my first year at Hogwarts. In my second year, I came close to death on five occasions. Last year, I had four 'close encounters'. In all those fifteen brushes with death, only once has an adult wizard rescued me. Instead, I have had to rescued myself, my schoolmates and the school itself. I can't claim much credit. Some of it may be due to nerve and preparation, but mostly, I think to more luck than anyone should expect. And that can't last forever. Tonight marks the start of this year's trials. But this year feels different. My gut tells me I won't see the end of next June with my magic intact, or maybe even alive." There was an inrush of breath and a horrified gasp from all quarters. Harry had paused in his statement frequently enough to allow it to be translated into French and Bulgarian.
"Now Harry, we all know Hogwarts is the safest place in the magical world..." The Headmaster began, trying to regain some amount of control.
"Headmaster, I just disproved that bromide. I suppose you'll now speak about 'undying glory' or some such drivel. Open question: in what year did Guillaume dé Montagne win the Cup?"
Somewhat predictably, Draco Malfoy couldn't resist rising to the bait. "1628, you scar-headed poseur."
Harry laughed with real humor. "Pot kettle, ferret." Harry good mood vanished. "No year, dunderhead. I made the name up. Unlike you, I did my homework. Let's try again. Why was the tournament discontinued 202 years ago?"
This time, a figure rose from the Head Table. Penelope Clearwater had finished her NEWTs year last year and was now apprenticing for an Astronomy mastery. "In the last tournament, all three Champions died in the First Task, fighting a Cockatrice."
"Thank you, Miss Clearwater, someone did do some homework. Lastly, when was the last time all three champions survived the tournament with their lives and magic?"
A long, long silence. Then, his best friend rose from their table. "Harry, we studied it together, so I know the answer. T-there has never been a time when all three champions have survived unscathed," the tears flooding her face as she sat were far more eloquent than any words.
"So much for the glory. I have too much of that anyway and I hate it more than any of you could possibly understand. Forget the prize money. If you gave me the whole wealth of the magical world, it could not buy my deepest desire; James Charlus Potter and Lily Marie Potter". Harry could not continue, choking back a sob at the thought of his parents. He was then engulfed by the hug Hermione gave him, after hitting his chest like an ICBM.
He returned the hug with interest, kissing the top of her head and smiling. "No one knows the real me except my greatest friend. I don't want to leave the world, but Fate has other plans. I can feel it. When I go, my only regret will be parting from her."
"So much for my own position." Harry continued to hold onto his Friend for dear life, as if he would never find her again should he loosen his hold. "We have heard Headmaster Dumbledore's opinion; I must be a Champion, I have no other recourse."
"Headmistress Maxime, having heard everything in the past few minutes and laying aside any understandable anger of the existence of a fourth champion, let alone one more from the host school, do you agree with Headmaster Dumbledore that I am caught by this 'magical contract' and risk the loss of my magic should I refuse to participate?"
Olympe Maxime could not even form the words. She was too far gone in a welter of conflicting emotions. It was all she could do to nod her agreement.
Harry then addressed the Durmstrang Headmaster, "Headmaster Karkaroff, would you mind answering the same question I posed just now to Headmistress Maxime?"
Unlike his colleague, Igor Karkaroff had no trouble speaking his mind. "You are a disgrace to decent wizards and witches everywhere! Yes, you must compete. And you'll be the reason that this shall be the last time Durmstrang will ever take part in this event!"
Those who knew Harry were surprised that Harry had not blown his top; all but Hermione, who was the only one privy to the real Harry. Harry ignored the reactions in the hall and now focused on the Head Table.
"Mr. Crouch, how do you respond to my question?"
Crouch nodded imperiously. "By the rules of the TriWizard Tournament, you were entered into a binding magical contract the instant your name came out of the Goblet. You have no other alternative."
Ludo Bagman also voiced his agreement to Harry's question and would have launched into a lengthy speech, had not Harry interrupted.
"So, the executive committee are of one mind; I am legally bound to this monstrosity at the peril of irreparable harm should I not play along. Very well. I acknowledge that I have no graceful way out. Therefore, I find I must swear one further oath". Harry very carefully disengaged himself from Hermione's arms. With a gentle look and a mouthed 'stay'. He looked to the Head Table.
"I, Harry James Potter, swear upon my life and magic that I am not a Hogwarts Champion. Cedric Diggory is the only Hogwarts Champion, who all at Hogwarts should support. I represent no school, nowhere and demand support from no one. As I have spoken, so mote it be!"
Instantly after the flash of light, signifying that Harry's magic had accepted the oath, Harry was once more in the secure, protective embrace of his Friend, who acted as if Harry would dissolve away, never to be found again, should she ever relinquished her embrace. He knew he had her support and would have always had it, come what may.
Also at that moment, all Hell broke loose in the Great Hall. Or, would have, had it not been for the incursion of a phalanx of Goblin Warriors, led by their fabled, but seldom seen king, Ragnok Longblade.
-MhahE-
The complete and utter rage of the goblins was palpable. Absolutely none in the hall had any ambition other than to do naught to attract their attention. As Ragnok crossed the hall, approaching the Head Table, he passed close to the petrified and intertwined wizard and witch. Pausing, he spoke to them in a bare whisper. "Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, be at ease. We have no issue with you, but by all means cleave to one another. Your ability to strengthen each other is your greatest gift."
The King stood before the Head Table. "Wand-bearers! The levels of stupidity achieved by the soi-disant wise amongst you would be laughable, were it not so infuriating! Wand-bearers conceive and hold for centuries a 'friendly' competition, one that is so 'friendly' that in no instance has one been held in which all contestants have finished with their lives and magic."
"This year, after 202 years during which sanity held and this travesty was seen for the hideous blood sport it is; the 'sagacious' amongst you have reanimated this monster. Oh yes, you 'humanely' decreed that only 'of age' magicals would compete. Really? Truly? It boots not if you are seventeen or eighteen; 'of age' is a weak legal fiction. Even we 'bloodthirsty' Goblins love and respect our young too much to foist this upon them!
"We might indeed have such a trial, but only for fully-trained, mature combatants. Oh, but you magi 'humanely' made provision to keep out those not fitting your illusions of adulthood. Really? Did you?" Were the sarcasm and disgust to drip any more freely from his words, the Director of Gringotts might well have drowned in the resulting pond.
"Not so! You even failed in that. Even by your own parchment-thin standards, you failed." Ragnok's voice became soft and deadly, though still perfectly heard by all. You allowed a child's name to be entered, to be chosen. You made no stipulation to correct your fatal blunder. We Goblins shall always thank the Creator that we don't eat our offspring, as do you wand-wavers."
"You have though, opened a door, just a crack. And now we are able to offer some succor to the only one of you whom the Nation would find worthy. Harry James Potter, by foolishly forcing you into the TriWizard, the 'cognoscenti' have also declared you to be an adult, in their cataract-filled eyes. This allows you today to become fully vested into your heritage. Lord Potter, take the ring of you forebearers, and claim your own." With a bow, Ragnok presented a flat, jewelry case.
Harry released Hermione and accepted the casket. When Harry held it, some knowledge or understanding came upon him. Bowing in his turn, Harry addressed the leader of Gringotts. "May your adversaries tremble before you and may honor and gold flow always from your hands." Opening the box, he removed a golden ring, displaying what he instinctively knew was the Potter Crest. "I, Harry James Potter, accept this ring and claim Lordship of House Potter by right of blood!" Upon placing the ring on the second finger of his right hand, there was for the third time that night a flash of magical light due to his actions. This was a different sort of flash, one that again filled the hall, but then was absorbed into Harry's body. Instinctively his hand sought and held Hermione's again.
"Lord Potter, the Nation congratulates you on your ascension. There is much for us to discuss. You will be expected tomorrow at 9:00 am. But for now, this is what you need to know."
"House Potter, while very old is not wealthy as Wizarding Houses are reckoned. Longbottom, Bones, Greengrass, Spinnet, Smith, Patil, all among others, can buy or sell the Potters dozens, even hundreds of times. The true worth of your house is in honor. The Potters, alone of all other wand-bearer houses, are friends of the Goblin Nation. When they have so requested, the resources of the Nation have been at the disposal of the Potters. Never has that honor been misused, and I see in you one who shall never misuse it in your turn.
"You have the right, under the bylaws of Hogwarts, to claim a Lord's Quarters. You have the right to use magic anywhere and at any time you choose, so long as the Statute of Secrecy and the other laws effecting adult Wizards are obeyed. You are free of the point and detention system at Hogwarts. As Lord Potter, you are free to visit Gringotts at any time and I service your account.
"This is all you need know for now. We will expect you at 9:00 am then. Minerva McGonagall, I ask that you take nominal responsibility for Lord Potter as his head of house. I hold you obligated to see him Floo-ed to us. Pray do not disappoint." As swiftly as he entered, Ragnok and his escort left Hogwarts.
-MhahE-
For several minutes a stunned silence reigned throughout the Great Hall. During the silence, Harry and Hermione kept their eyes locked to the other's. While they had in the past been able to 'speak' non-vocally, those exchanges had been snippets, flashes of mutual understanding. Tonight, they shared a wordless dialogue. Both separately concluded that this unprecedented communion was triggered by the equally unprecedented stress of the Selection, Harry's revelations and the Goblins' rôle in complicating this day yet further.
As the hall made an attempt towards 'normalcy', the pair's hands parted. Hermione said, softly, but clearly. "I'll wait 'til they're done with you."
Harry nodded and then turned and walked over the three, still stunned, School Champions. Harry gave them a wry look. "I imagine this is far from the day any of you ever predicted when you woke up this morning. I'd have liked to say the same, but as you heard I anticipated this, considering the crummy life I've lived up to now. I regret that your moment in the sun has been eclipsed by my infamy. I am Harry and I wish with all my heart we'd met in a better way, Fleur, Viktor. And Cedric, you know me, well enough I hope to know I'd never have wanted to overshadow you like this." As Harry spoke, he shook each of the three's hands.
Cedric shook out of his daze first. "I know you pretty well. Going at each other on the pitch for three years tells you a lot about a bloke. For what is may be worth, I'm for you. Anything I can do, let me know."
Fleur then hugged Harry tightly. "Harry, I am sorry for your situation. Next to us, you are still a little boy. I too will help you if I can. Please too, tell your friend later that I am not competition." So saying, she released her embrace.
Blushing, Harry stammered, "W-what do you mean? Me and Her..."
Fleur interrupted. "I am Veela. I sense hearts, and yours are connected."
Before Harry could reply, Viktor claimed his attention. "Mr. Potter, I agree with the other champions. I will do what I can for you too. You play Quidditch? What position?"
That conversation ended with the voice of Dumbledore. "Well now, we must repair yonder and speak to the Goblet's chosen. Hogwarts students and guests should now feel free to resume your own affairs." With that dismissal, he let the four the school heads, Ministry officials and Professors McGonagall, Sprout, Snape and Moody into the antechamber.
Once all were inside and seated, Mr. Crouch took charge. "I know there is a lot we could and eventually should discuss. But for now the only consideration is we have the Cup's contestants here. The four of you shall face three tasks and you compete in them as individuals. There will be no help from the outside, you are on your own, totally. The only one upon which you can rely is yourself. Now, Mr. Bagman, you may inform these four of their first task."
Ludo Bagman stepped forward, looking entirely too gleeful for Harry's taste. "The first task takes place on Saturday, November 26. Each of you will have to get past a magical creature and retrieve an object. That object is a clue, which will enable you to manage the second task, in February. Since the task is a test of your resourcefulness and ability to adapt, that is all you have to go on. See you on November 26!"
The four, being dismissed, left the antechamber. Once outside, they looked at each other. Cedric broke the silence. "Well, that was...vague. No meat on them bones! If they'll leave us on our own, we have to be for each other. I will be there for all of you, with anything I can think of or do. With me?"
The others nodded and then fell into a four-way hug. After they released each other, Professor McGonagall emerged from the room. They could hear the sounds of a full-on donnybrook behind her.
"Lord Potter, I was remiss. Wholly apart from the TriWizard, I need to know if you wish to take Lord's quarters tonight."
"Professor I think I do, but I want to see the reaction in Gryffindor before deciding for tonight. Sir Nicholas!" The Gryffindor House ghost appeared. "Will you come up to the tower with me, unseen and come to Professor McGonagall to request the lord's quarters if I ask?" The ghost bowed and vanished. Turning to his Head of House, "Does this work for you?"
The witch inclined her head. "It does, Lord Potter, please don't dawdle."
Harry looked to the other three, saying "We'll talk tomorrow. Oh, and Viktor, I'm a Seeker." Then he strode to Hermione, who gave him a comfort-filled hug, then left the hall at his side.
-MhahE-
For several minutes, neither spoke, simply sharing and enjoying their quietness. At some point, their hands did clasp. To any outside observer, this would seem, as it had to most in the Great Hall earlier, to be the sign of two people becoming significant others. That would have surprised them both. Their contact was for them the expression of their bond, forged through sharing more than anyone their age should ever had have to have experienced. Their touch simply reinforced their mutual loyalty and need to reassure the other and be reassured, that each would always be there for the other, through any need. Finally, they started to talk.
"Harry, do you think you'll take the quarters?"
"Yeah, tonight probably. I'm betting that our housemates won't really have listened to me. Remember what we concluded at the end of our first year?"
"That you're a great wizard?"
That earned her a mock glare and half-hearted smack on the arm. "Really Hermione! I still dispute that, you know. We learned that witches and wizards have very little common sense."
"Well we did learn that too. So you think that they'll ignore your oaths and act like you somehow got in by design?"
"Yes, sadly. The whole school and guests are likely think the same too. I don't really have it in me to try to convince them more than I've done tonight. Don't have the will to bear the fallout. So, I need the hideaway." Harry shook his head resignedly.
"Then again, it may be a matter of safety too. I saw Ron's reaction, as clearly as you did."
"Yes. Why we've put up with him for so long I don't know. Guess it's because he was the first person to ever be friendly to me. Guess I've kept it up out of inertia. He may have been the first, but you're my only real, true friend."
"You're that for me too, Harry. Ron is so jealous at times. I think he was more angry at me last year for keeping him from trying the Firebolt than he was for you not having it yourself. I also think that he was angrier about that than he ever was at me over Scabbers." She shuddered at the memories from the last year and the traitor. Harry squeezed her hand reassuringly.
"Yeah, I think he'll be so over the top, I won't feel safe in the tower. Well, we're almost there."
They approached the portrait and saw the Fat Lady was talking to one of her friends.
"Well Mr. Potter. Hogwarts' Champion. Well done!" said the second witch in the portrait.
"Balderdash." Harry said with resignation.
"It most certainly is NOT!" Shouted the picture.
"Vi, 'Balderdash' is the password." The Fat Lady remonstrated.
"It's 'Balderdash' any way it's sliced, Vi." Harry murmured as he swung open the door and ushered Hermione inside.
-MhahE-
Harry and Hermione entered to hear the end of a furious rant directed towards Neville by Ron.
"You are such a naïve, stupid little half-squib, Neville! How can you even start to believe him. A little idiot like Granger, with no idea about our world just might be fooled, but you're a wizard from an old line of wizards! Open your eyes and see..."
"And see what, Ron?" Harry's voice was barely a whisper and yet it shut up the Weasley harangue. "Maybe instead of screaming at Neville, who has done nothing to provoke this, let's cut out the middleman. Or are you not Gryffindor enough to talk to my face?"
The redhead looked in disgust at his 'best mate'. "How'd you do it, Harry?" How'd you trick the Goblet? How'd you trick everyone into thinking you're a victim? Why wouldn't you give your friends a shot at glory and wealth? Too greedy are you? Didn't like my brothers getting into your way, so you shamed them TWICE? Well, to Hell with you Potter!"
Hermione looked on the boy she'd viewed as her other best friend of the last three years with horror. "Ron, how can you say such things? We've been with Harry from the beginning. You know how he hates to be fawned over. Didn't you hear him tonight? Do you think he could fake two wizard's oaths? What are you thinking, do you think he'd lay into the Headmaster for show? Didn't you see that he was as shocked as anyone when Ragnok came in? Didn't you see that he knew, that he knows nothing of his heritage? How can you be his friend and think such things?"
Ron's glare of complete hatred would have daunted someone feeling less anger, but she stood her ground, daring him do his worst.
"Snape is right, you know, Granger. You really are an "insufferable know-it-all". You're a nightmare who thinks she's always right. You are as fooled by him as anyone in the Castle. You think he gives a rip about you or anyone else? You think he cares about you? Sure, to do his homework. Has he gotten between your legs? Only a matter of time you..."
Ron's verbal Crucio ended with the slap of Hermione's hand on his cheek. "HOW DARE YOU, RONALD! OUR FRIENDSHIP ENDS NOW, IF THERE WAS EVER ONE TO BEGIN WITH!"
Ron raised his hand, but before he could commence his swing, Harry stepped in front of him and shoved him ten feet backwards. "Sir Nicholas! Tell Professor McGonagall we need her." Harry looked at Ron. No one there had ever seen an expression like that on anyone. None could have conceived it on Harry's face. Loathing of, and the desire to do mayhem upon his once, but never again friend. "Only a chicken tries to hit a woman, Ron. Be glad I stopped you. If you had hit Hermione, you would have been Madam Pomfrey's guest until June."
"You are a coward, Ron. A jealous, petty weakling. Your issue is with me, but you're taking it out on everyone else. You are a bully; I see that now. I was blinded by the fact I thought I'd made a friend in you, the first person willing to be friends with a freak like me. You never were my friend, just someone wanting to ride the coattails of the made up person I hate; the 'boy-who-lived'. All over now. Never have anything to do with me or Hermione. Never try to bully anyone who would like to make friends with me again. I don't need you to be a gatekeeper, no more than I needed or wanted Malfoy to do so. You are just the reverse of the Galleon, Malfoy's the obverse."
While Harry spoke, McGonagall entered the Common Room unobtrusively. She heard him, aghast at what she heard, no less so that Ronald Weasley's reaction clearly validated Harry's words.
"Lord Potter, I take you wish your Lord's quarters?"
"Yes Professor, I won't be able to feel safe here anymore, not with R. Weasley here. You need to talk to the others too. I don't think they feel all that safe either. You might want to ask the Prefects what they did during his rampage. May I wait outside?"
"Indeed, Lord Potter." After Harry exited, Minerva turned to Ron. "Mr. Weasley, sit in that chair and be silent until I return." Seeing that Ron had no intention of obeying, she Banished him into the chair and further Sticking and Silencing charms kept him there and quiet. "Prefect Summers, you have the responsibility of maintaining order. Everyone is to be seated and silent. I will sort this out presently." She then took her leave.
Exiting, she led Harry to an adjacent hallway and in front of a landscape. "One for the Lord's Quarters." She said and the frame swung open. Looking at her cub, she told him, "you need to set a password, My Lord."
Harry thought a moment and then intoned his choice. "Dead man walking."
The witch winced, looked askance at him, then remembered his words in the Great Hall. "Very well. Eat your breakfast and then be ready at 8:50. We will Floo from my office. Please dress as formally as you can. Good night, Lord Potter'.
Harry turned back and into his new quarters. Minerva sighed heavily and walked back to Gryffindor, hoping that the mess wouldn't take all night to straighten.
A/N: As usual, I'd be nothing without a good Beta and Alix33 is one of the best. Any beefs with the chapter are on my dime (and likely despite her best efforts).
My thanks to you who've read this. This is a grief-fic. Even though it is planned to be no more than three to four chapters, I've found it very hard to write. I think is helping me though.
As always, your input is valued. In FFN, it is the only way I get 'paid'.
My story recommendation is Can't Have It Both Ways, by Robst.
IN MEMORIUM
DR. E. K. PAGE-ROBIN (PhD)
MOTHER, ACADEMIC, PIONEER, LEADER
IN MEMORY ALWAYS GREEN
Posted: 02/06/2015
Words: 5,311