A/N: heeey ya'll (: how long's it been since i updated? i've got no clue. anyway, this chapter gets kind of lyrical-y, especiallly around the middle-end-ish. and sorry about the cliffie at the end (: but it was getting waay too long, ya know?

DISCLAIMER: i don't own HP but i own some burnt-black chocolate chip cookies that i put in the microwave too long ):

Chapter 11—Slug Club

As Christmas approached and the weather grew steadily colder, Draco grew more and more distant. He ate his meals quickly and wasn't seen until bed time. Occasionally, I would walk in on Draco and Blaise during an argument, only to have them hastily change the subject when they saw I was within earshot. Then of course, they would deny everything.

It was Saturday morning, and already I was heading off to the library to research for my Herbology paper (yeah, my weekend was not off to a good start).

Voices drifted back to me along the corridor, becoming more and more distinct as I walked.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing?!" asked a furious male voice, leaving me in no question who were arguing on a bright, Saturday morning. "What happened to the Bell girl—"

"—it was an accident!"

"Did you even think about what would happen if—"

"Of course I did! She'll never forgive me, that much is obvious. It's just—I just have no choice."

I turned the corner. Sure enough, it was Blaise and Draco, not even bothering to keep their voices down.

Blaise spotted me right away, and immediately tried to change the subject.

"Gryffindor's just going down the toilet," he said loudly, trying to drown out Draco. "I mean, with the Bell girl gone, that Weaselette is filling in for her. Add Weasley as the Keeper and they're pretty much done for this season." Then, he feigned surprised and said brightly, "Well, hello there V!"

"Hey," I said, suspicion dripping off my voice. "I'm just going to the library. Herbology paper, you know?"

They both grimaced sympathetically, but didn't offer to help. I shrugged. Boys are boys.

I had already decided the fourth time I had interrupted them that I wouldn't push and pry the source of their argument from them. They would tell me when they wanted to. At least, that's what I told myself.

I headed up a flight of stairs leading to the fourth floor landing, and crashed straight into Slughorn.

I quickly muttered apologies and scrambled away, chastising myself for not watching where I was going.

Slughorn was one of Professor Dumbledore's friends. He had told us at dinner last Thursday that Slughorn was here specifically for Christmas. Apparently, he threw amazing Christmas parties. I walked quickly down the hall, not completely aware of my surroundings, which is probably why I crashed—again—into Draco.

"I—what—you were—but—" I spluttered hopelessly. "But you were back there!"

He smirked and gestured at the statue of Edric the Evil.

"Shortcut," he explained.

"Cheater," I mumbled and walked past him into the library.

I had tucked the nightmare into the deepest pockets at the back of my mind, but apparently, these pockets weren't deep enough; nor were they far enough.

He caught up to me quickly and took my hand.

"I just couldn't bear the thought of you being tortured to death all by yourself," he told me, helping me reach Magical Plants of Asia on the top shelf.

I laughed. "That's thoughtful of you."

We finished in about an hour and headed down to the lake, where Blaise and Ashley were waiting with a basket of food a bag of tricks.

Ashley turned when she heard our footsteps, her mahogany hair swinging around and hitting Blaise full in the face.

"HEY DRACO, HEY V! GUESS WHAT! WE'RE GONNA HAVE A PICNIC! Oh gosh, sorry about that, Blaise."

"Um," I looked around. The sky was dreary and gray and the wind was whipping my hair around into death knots. "Ash, it's thirty degrees out, and you want to have a picnic?"

"Completely mental," Draco muttered, then pointed at the basket. "Hey, what's in there?"

"What's in there?" asked Blaise dramatically. "What's in there? What's in there is the reason why we need to have a picnic! Ash and I spent a good part of our morning nicking food from the kitchens to have this picnic and you're saying no because it'sCOLD out here?! An insult to our pride! We worked hard for this stuff!"

"No you didn't," Draco snorted. "The kitchens are run by house elves. They practically give away the food."

Blaise and Ashley scoffed, "Details."

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to shield myself from the freezing winds. "I'm going back inside."

"You can't!" Ashley cried desperately.

I turned to her. "And why not?"

"Because," said Blaise furiously, "Ash and I have been planning this for days!"

Draco and I exchanged exasperated looks, but sat reluctantly onto the checkered blanket.

The picnic wasn't bad exactly, but it wasn't exactly enjoyable either. My hands were shaking so much from the cold that I dropped the chocolate éclair I had been eating. Draco draped his cloak around me.

"Fucking mental," I heard him mutter again.

Blaise and Ashley were in their own disgusting, love-filled world and didn't take notice. Ashley gave Blaise a soppy look and stuffed half a sandwich into his mouth. I rolled my eyes. And she accused me of being nauseatingly sweet?

I leaned into Draco and closed my eyes, trying to ignore the howling winds.

Meetings for Dumbledore's Army were like a routine torture nowadays. It wasn't as if I was bad at the spells. In fact, I had managed such a good Impediment Jinx that I had knocked Cho Chang out for thirty minutes straight. No, the bad part was being accused by Zacharias Smith that I had been trying to sabotage the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. When she awoke, she had praised me for my excellent wand work and assured everyone that I had not intentionally been trying to hurt her. No one else said anything after that, but I could still feel the distrust and hatred radiating from them in waves.

I shivered violently. I wasn't sure whether it was from the cold or from the memory of the DA's piercing looks.

Fred and George, of course, were either oblivious or faking it really well. They volunteered to pair with me so often that Cho had asked them if they both had a crush on me. And, being Fred and George, they had promptly put their arms around me and announced that we were about to be married. To be honest, I would much rather be paired up with Fred and George than Cho—they had a much better sense of humor—but what Cho had said about me not intentionally wanting to hurt her was untrue. I actually enjoyed hexing her because I loved the look of anxiety and worry on Harry's face after I successfully curse her into unconsciousness. It wasn't for something stupid like trying to sabotage the Quidditch team, of course. I just liked the way he looked at her and then how he denied it every time I asked him about it.

The winds blew around me more fiercely, and I shivered again, goosebumps rising on my arms. Draco wrapped his arms around me, cradling my body against his. His lips brushed against my ear, and he whispered, low and urgent,

"Whatever you do, V, do not open your eyes."

So of course, I opened them—and screamed bloody murder. Blaise and Ashley broke apart their snog-fest, looking thoroughly annoyed.

"What?"

"Oy, how 'bout some respect, V?"

"REPSECT!" I shrieked, sounding incredibly deranged. "HOW 'BOUT SHOWING US SOME RESPECT! WHO SNOGS LIKE THAT OUT IN PUBLIC? IN FRONT OF OTHER PEOPLE?"

"Lots of people, in case you haven't noticed."

"THAT'S GROSS!"

"That's just 'cause you're a priss."

"HEY!" I yelled, standing up and pointing my wand at Blaise's nose. "I AM NOT A—"

"Erm, Vanessa Potter?"

We all turned. There was a small, sandy blonde first year standing by our picnic blanket, shivering his ass off.

"Maybe this isn't the right time," he said timidly. "But Slughorn wanted me to invite you and you," he pointed at Blaise and me, "to dinner on Thursday night."

"Dinner?" asked Blaise in disbelief. "What is this, a date?"

"And why aren't I invited?" cried Ashley.

The first year trembled even more violently under the combined force of our glares.

"I—I—I don't know!" he squeaked, terrified. "I'm sorry!"

And he ran back across the grounds, tripping over his own feet.

We turned to each other.

"Wow, we scared the cream cheese out of him," Ashley remarked.

"Cream cheese?" asked Blaise.

"Yeah, it's a muggle food. Wizards don't eat it because it's extremely unhealthy, but I think it's just amazing."

"Aw, it's so adorable how you know all this stuff about muggles."

"WHAT!" I cried. "Just a few minutes ago, you were saying how stupid I was for knowing stuff about muggles!"

Blaise didn't answer; he was still staring at Ashley. I had a sickening feeling that they were about to kiss again.

"Let's go inside," Draco suggested wisely.

After Care of Magical Creatures on Thursday (Hagrid had come back, much to Draco's displeasure), Blaise and I bid Ashley and Draco farewell and headed off to one of the unused classrooms that Slughorn was calling his office.

"What do you reckon Slughorn wants with us, anyway?" Blaise was saying.

I shrugged "I dunno, do I?"

We walked across the grounds in silence for a while. Just as we reached the entrance hall, a soft girly voice that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up interrupted us.

"And where, Miss Potter, do you think you are going?"

I turned slowly, a look of determined innocence on my face.

"Slughorn's invited us to dinner, Professor."

"But why on earth would someone as distinguished as Horace Slughorn want you at his dinner party?" she asked sweetly.

"I don't know, Professor," I said, my voice carefully polite. "Perhaps you should ask him yourself."

"Oh, I intend to."

"Well if that's all, we'll be off."

Blaise and I walked casually up to the first floor landing, and glanced back to check whether or not Umbridge was still watching us. She was gazing at something on the grounds with an outward expression of mild curiosity.

"What did that old toad need to stop us for?" Blaise muttered under his breath. "It's not like we were doing anything wrong."

Blaise pushed open the door.

"Ah, Miss Potter, Mr. Zabini," Slughorn greeted us, "so glad you could make it!"

I half-smiled and Blaise inclined his head slightly before taking a seat beside Marcus Belby, who I recognized as a sixth year Ravenclaw. I took the empty seat beside Blaise and nodded in acknowledgment at Cormac Mclaggen, who I've heard is lusting after Hemione. This didn't exactly warm him to me.

Within a few minutes, Ginny had arrived. She smiled slightly in my direction. She was followed by Melinda Bobbins, a third year Ravenclaw; and the Carrow twins. They nodded at Blaise, but shot me a disparaging look. Harry and Neville arrived last, both looking thoroughly disheveled.

"Sorry Professor," said Harry, "Neville and I were helping Hagrid with the thestrals."

"Not to worry, Harry m'boy!" said Slughorn enthusiastically. "Good to see you, good to see you! And you must be Mr. Longbottom!"

Neville nodded, looking white and scared. At a gesture from Slughorn, they sat down opposite each other in the only two empty seats. Harry looked around the table, smiled at me, then immediately scowled at Blaise. I'm starting to think he's bipolar.

"Now, do you know everyone?" Slughorn addressed Harry and Neville. "Blaise Zabini is in your year, and of course you know Vanessa Potter—"

I grinned at Neville; he didn't return the gesture. Blaise was glaring at the pair of Gryffindors with intense dislike. I sighed. This stupid House rivalry thing was a pain in the—

"This is Cormac McLaggen, perhaps you've come across each other--? No?"

McLaggen raised a hand in greeting. Harry was scrutinizing the space between us. I scooted away from him and toward Blaise. Harry pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, apparently deciding that he would rather have me be closer to McLaggen than Blaise. I sighed and scooted back toward McLaggen. This is ridiculous.

Supper passed all right, I suppose, though how I was expected to eat while Slughorn kept pestering us with questions about our family or whatnot... Blaise, who was interrogated after McLaggen turned out to have a mother who had been married seven times, each of her husbands dying mysteriously and leaving her mounds of gold. So Blaise was immeasurably rich. Why wasn't I surprised? It was Harry's turn next. And mine, I suppose.

"And now," said Slughorn, shifting in his seat and trying to look at both me and Harry at the same time. "The Potters! Where to begin? I feel I barely scratched the surface of the of your lives!" he contemplated Harry for a moment as though he was a particularly large and succulent piece of pheasant, then said, "'The Chosen One', some are calling you now!"

"And others are calling him 'The Deluded One'" Blaise muttered under his breath.

I shot him a dirty look.

"Of course," continued Slughorn, "there have been rumors for years...i remember when—well—after that terrible night—Lily—James—and you survived—and the word was that you two must have powers beyond the ordinary—"

Beside me, Blaise sounded as though he were having a hard time containing his laughter. An angry voice broke out from behind Slughorn.

"Yeah, Zabini, because you're so talented... at posing..."

"Oh dear!" chuckled Slughorn comfortably, looking around at Ginny who was glaring at Blaise. "You want to be careful, Blaise! I saw this young lady perform the most marvelous Bat-Bogey Hex as I passed her in the halls. I wouldn't cross her!"

Blaise smirked, and I knew he was finding the possibility of the 'Weaslette' being able to harm him quite comical.

"Anyway," said Slughorn, turning back to Harry.

And so it continued. I was getting immensely bored, seeing as I had run out of food. I glanced at Blaise's full plate.

"Can I have some of that?" I whispered.

He pushed his plate toward me, and I attacked it ferociously. In the back of my mind, I wondered why Blaise wasn't running his mouth and talking like he usually did, but I wasn't too bothered by it. This food was delicious. It was definitely worth going through the torture of listening to Slughorn going on and on about how great Harry was.

Back at the common room, Ashley was sprawled across a couch, fast asleep. Her Potions homework was in her lap. Blaise snuck up behind her, and planted a kiss right on her mouth. Ashley jerked awake, smiled and proceeded to have another snog fest. I turned my back on them, looking around for Draco. I couldn't see him anywhere.

"Has anyone seen Draco?" I asked no one in particular.

Parkinson and Bulstrode, who had been sitting in a nearby armchair, looked up and me and smirked. I decided to ignore that and got started on my Muggle Studies poem:

Identity

Let them be as flowers,
always watered, fed, guarded, admired,
but harnessed to a pot of dirt.
I'd rather be a tall, ugly weed,
clinging on cliffs, like an eagle
wind-wavering above high, jagged rocks.
To have broken through the surface of stone,
to live, to feel exposed to the madness
of the vast, eternal sky.
To be swayed by the breezes of an ancient sea,
carrying my soul, my seed, beyond the mountains of time
or into the abyss of the bizarre
I'd rather be unseen, and if
then shunned by everyone,
than to be a pleasant-smelling flower,
growing in clusters in the fertile valleys,
where they're praised, handled, and plucked
by greedy, human hands.
I'd rather smell of musty, green stench
than of sweet, fragrant lilac.
If I could stand alone, strong and free,
I'd rather be a tall, ugly weed.

Later that week, the same frightened first year approached us in the Great Hall. Apparently, Slughorn was planning to have a Christmas party before the holidays.

"And it says here we're allowed to bring a guest," said Blaise, showing the invite to Ashley. "So how about it, Ash? Be my date?"

"Want to come with me to the party, Draco?" I asked, turning to him.

He was staring at his plate of untouched food, gripping his fork tightly and appearing to be in deep thought. I looked closer; his complexion was tinged with gray and there was dark circles under his eyes. I wondered if he had even gotten any sleep last night.

"Draco?" I said gently. He looked up at me, but not really seeing me, his eyes still distant. "Is everything okay?"

"Wha—Oh, yeah. Everything's fine."

"Well okay," I said, not entirely convinced. "Did you want to go to Slughorn's party with me?"

"Slughorn's--? Oh—no, sorry V, I'm busy."

He returned to his previous position of staring at his plate.

I continued to peek at him periodically throughout the meal, feeling more and more anxious. Suddenly, I stood up and walked quickly out toward the entrance hall. As I passed through the double doors, I glanced back; Ashley and Blaise were laughing; Draco had not moved.

I began to run. The castle's gray walls sped by me; many of the portraits yelled questions at me as I passed. I ignored all of them, trying to escape the truth that was threatening to explode within me. My feet pounded the stone floor in time with my thoughts.

No. No. No. No. The steady stream of denial.

I flew past Peeves, who blew a raspberry at me.

Can't be.

I dashed by a group of Ravenclaws, who called insults at me.

He wouldn't.

Finally, I collapsed under a large birch tree, and tilted my head toward the sun. The weather today was just like the day we had the picnic that Blaise and Ashley had apparently been planning for days. The wind whipped my hair around, and I pulled Draco's cloak tighter around me. I stared up at the sky, at the sun who gave us light, but no heat on a day like this. Just like that day.

As I closed my eyes, I could picture the scene as clearly as if it were happening before me. I smiled as I remembered the way Draco had held me close. I pictured the looks of indignation on Ashley and Blaise's face as we interrupted them, and had to fight the desire to laugh.

I'm overreacting again, I told myself. There's probably a very logical explanation as to why Draco looks so stressed. I mean, all of us are stressed. It's our O.W.L's year.

But, said a tiny voice in the back of my head, O.W.L.'s are ages away—

I shoved it away, replaying the picnic scene in my head.

You're pretty smart most of the time, I told the voice, but right now, I don't need you. Come back during my examinations.

Ashley looked stunning in her silver dress robes and her elegant pony tail. She stood at the foot of the stairs, clucking her tongue and tapping her foot, waiting for Blaise to come up from the dormitories. When he finally emerged, he was still wearing his school robes.

"What?" he asked, taking in her expression.

"You're kidding, right?" said Ashley, steering him back down the stairs. "Nononono, you go back down there and change into something decent."

I distinctly heard him mutter, "Just like my mother," as he trudged back down the stairs.

"Boys, honestly," said Ashley, shaking her head. "They have no sense of fashion at all. Well at least Blaise doesn't. Draco somewhat does. Speaking of the self-declared Slytherin Prince, where is he?"

"He's not coming," I answered, straightening out the wrinkles of my jade dress robes.

I could've sworn she stumbled a little.

"He's—what? Why in the hell isn't he coming?"

I shrugged. "He says he's busy."

"Busy, my ass. It's the last day before Christmas holidays, what could he be busy with?"

I shrugged, not comfortable with this subject.

She scrutinized me.

"V, you have been thinking about Harry's told you about Draco, haven't you?"

I shrugged again.

"Because it makes sense," she urged. "Just think about it."

It doesn't make sense, I told myself firmly. There's just no way.

"You're in denial," persisted Ashley. "I can see it on your face. V, I'm not saying Draco is a Death Eater, I'm just saying that it's a very likely possibility. And I'm not saying that I want him to be a Death Eater, either. I'm just considering all the possibilities, you see."

"How can he be a Death Eater?" I asked quietly. "He just—he can't be."

"Consider all the possibilities," Ashley repeated.

"But that's not even a possibility," I argued. "He can't be. He's Draco Malfoy, the stupid, obnoxious prat that you love to hate, not a Death Eater."

It sounded pathetic even in my own ears. But before I could say anything else, Blaise had come up, tugging at the hem of his emerald green dress robes.

"My mom bought this for me," he said sullenly. "I look ridiculous."

"Blaise," said Ashley seriously, "I totally agree with you."

He looked even more depressed.

Blaise held the door to Slughorn's 'office' for Ashley, like a gentleman. Ashley smiled at him and walked in. I followed her, and was hit in the face by the door swinging close. Blaise quickly opened it again, muttering apologies and pleading with me not to tell Draco.

"He's going to kill me," he begged.

I assured him that no, I was not going to tell Draco and no, I wasn't mad at him, and yes, I was fine. I walked into the lavishly decorated room which I swear Slughorn has magically enlarged. Ashley and Blaise had left to go who-knows-where in this cluttered room, leaving me standing by myself. I craned my neck, looking for a familiar face. Hermione was being attacked under the mistletoe by Cormac McLaggen. I grimaced sympathetically and started over to her, but spied Luna Lovegood and Harry talking to Professor Trelawney and changed direction.

"Hey Harry," I said as I reached them.

"Vanessa," he said in relief.

"...and the Blibbering Humdinger," Luna was saying.

"Harry Potter!" said Professor Trelawney, as if noticing him for the first time.

"Oh, hello," said Harry unenthusiastically.

"My dear boy! The rumors! The stories! 'The Chosen One'! Of course, I have known for a very long time..."

I repressed a snort with great difficulty and lost track of the conversation for a moment. When I had returned to my senses, Slughorn was also standing there, looking rather drunk.

"Ah, Sybill, we all think our subject's most important!" Slughorn said loudly, and to my amazement, he threw out an arm and seemed to scoop Snape out of thin air toward them. "Stop skulking around and join the party, Severus! I was just talking of the exceptional magical ability that I had witnessed Harry perform these last few days. Some credit must go to you, of course, you taught him for five years!"

As Snape glared down at him, Harry shrank back a little. Whatever he might say, I still think that Harry was just the tiniest bit afraid of Severus Snape.

"Funny, I never had the impression that I managed to teach this Potter anything at all," Then, he gestured at me. "This Potter, on the other hand, shows natural talent in—"

"Well, then, it's natural ability!" shouted Slughorn, completely oblivious to Snape's reference to my natural ability. "Remind me what you had wanted to do, Harry."

"I wanted to be an Auror," he said, staring at Snape defiantly.

"And a great one you'll make too!" boomed Slughorn.

"I don't think you should be an Auror, Harry," said Luna unexpectedly. We all turned to look at her. "The Aurors are part of the Rotfang Conspiracy, I thought everyone knew that. They're working to bring down the Ministry from within using a combination of Dark Magic and gum disease."

Harry snorted up half his glass of mead as he began to laugh. I watched in disgust as the liquid oozed from his nostrils.

"Harry, that's just—"

Harry stopped laughing suddenly, and looked gleeful. I followed his gaze, and felt surprise on my face: Draco was being dragged by the ear toward us by Filch.

"Draco—"

""Slughorn, sir," wheezed old Filch, his jowls aquiver, "I discovered this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor. He claims to have been invited to your party and to have been delayed in setting out. Did you issue him with an invitation?"

Draco pulled himself free, determinedly not looking at me.

"All right, I wasn't invited!" he said angrily. "I was trying to gate-crash, happy?"

I gaped at him, wondering why he didn't just tell Filch I had invited him to come with me.

"No, I'm not!" said Filch, a statement completely at odds with the absolute joy on his face. "You're in trouble, you are! Didn't the headmaster say that nighttime prowling's out, unless you've got permission, didn't he, eh?"

"That's all r ight, Argus, that's all right," said Slughorn, almost knocking me unconscious as he waved his enormous hand. "It's Christmas, and it's not a crime to want to come to a party. Just this once, we'll forget any punishment; you may stay, Draco."

Something was tugging on the hem of my dress robes. I looked down. Sebastian was purring at me, a dead mouse in his mouth. When he was sure I was looking, he darted away. I stared after him. There is definitely something wrong with that cat. Unless it was something definitely right. I took off after him.

"Sebastian!" I called, peering around people's legs for the small tabby. "Sebastian, you godforsaken cat, where are you? Why did you come here if you were just going to run away, anyway? Sebastian!"

But he was nowhere to be seen. I sighed, defeated and returned to where Luna was talking about the Rotfang Conspiracy to a sincerely interested Professor Trelawney.

"Have you seen Harry?" I asked.

"...yes, they use this curse—Oh hello, Vanessa. He went to the bathroom."

"The bathroom?" I said blankly. "Oh okay... what about Draco?"

"Professor Snape wanted to have a word with him."

"Oh... well all right, then."

Harry came back a few minutes later, looking distressed. I greeted him happily, relieved that I didn't have to wander aimlessly around the classroom and make small talk with people I didn't know.

"Vanessa," he said urgently.

"What's wrong?"

"Malfoy—and Snape—" He swayed on his feet, but persisted nonetheless. Sweat beaded his forehead and his skin was chalky. "The Unbreakable Vow—" he murmured, then collapsed on the floor, twitching and yelling.

A/N:

The identity poem isn't mine. It belongs to Julio Noboa Polanca. Has anyone seen it before? I just felt like adding it in, because I saw it in school and I totally loved it (: I don't know if it fits into the story or not, but I just wanted to share (: there was this other thing about minority groups in America that I LOVED LOVED LOVED. But since Vanessa's not part of any minority group, I didn't think it would be appropriate. But I don't know. I'm Asian American, so yeah I can relate to those. AND FYI, I WAS BORN HERE IN MONTERRY PARK, CALIFORNIA AND I CAN'T SPEAK CHINESE FOR SHIT, SO DON'T EVEN ASK. (sorry, I get touchy about this. I don't like being asian. Well, I do in California, because Asians aren't exactly minority in California... but in the rest of the U.S... That's why I don't go on vacation without my ipod and some big sunglasses.). If you guys wanna see the poem though, I'm going to put it on my profile.

Callmeweird—I have one thing to say: Thanky Poo? LOLOL

Ugh, I can't find the review right now, but to whoever said that Durmstrang is boys only... I'm pretty sure it's not boys only. In the movie, Beauxbatons was girls only and Durmstrang was boys only, but I remember in the book, there was a Beauxbaton boy, so there are probably Durmstrang girls too. I'm not sure though. Let me look it up. HAHA, yes found it: "In the film, it appears that Durmstrang is an all-boy school, although this is not so in the book." (HarryPotterWiki).

There were a lot of reviews for the last chapter and I was SO SO SO SO SO happy (: but I'm not going to reply to all of them, because as you know (or maybe you don't), I am extremely, extremely lazy. But still, I loved all of your reviews and thanks to those that said it's getting better (: All the plot twists were sort of spur-of-the –moment, but I know the perfect way to make 'em fit in (: THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU again for the reviews (: you will all get some baked goodies once I figure out how to turn on my oven (: (You there, laughing in the corner, SHUT UP. Turning on an oven is not as easy as you think)

REVIEW because they make me happy (: and everyone likes happy (:

OH, girl from Holland! Your English isn't that bad. And your grammar isn't too bad, either (: I love the nose thing at the end; it was totally an LOL moment for me (: