AN: Hey everybody! I know it's been a long time since I updated but I have been busy with my mock exams and then studying for my real exams. It actually went pretty well on some of them, although I'll have to do better when the real ones come along. Just in case you wanted to know ;)
This Chapter was supposed to be about 10k words and I had it all planned out, but inbetween all my studying as well as this chapter being really hard to write I thought that I would publish it at this length so that you could at least get something to read. (5,8k words) It's also very thrilling to publish new chapters and get to know from my readers.
I hope you will enjoy!
Luckily Professor McGonagall had agreed to visit Dumbledore and they were now walking up the stairs to the Headmaster's office. The note Harry received hadn't said that he had to go alone and so, he brought her for security reasons. He was, after all, going to meet the very person who had kept the will hidden from him for most of his life as well as being one of the greatest wizards in the world at the moment. There was no way he would go in there alone.
Just as he was about to knock on the door it swung open and allowed them entrance to Dumbledore's office. When Harry entered the office it looked as expected with all its trinkets, books and portraits spread out in the round room and, of course, Dumbledore sitting behind his desk. Harry had to admit that the Headmaster cut a striking figure, almost regal like, as his twinkling grandfatherly eyes peered down towards them.
The Headmaster showed no hint of surprise that Harry had brought Professor McGonagall with him. In fact, he seemed rather pleased to see her.
"Ah. You finally came, Harry. And I see you brought Professor McGonagall with you as well." The Headmaster welcomed them. In response he got a respectful mumble from Harry and a nod from McGonagall.
The Headmaster was practically beaming. It was more than a little unnerving for Harry.
"Harry, do you happen to know why I sent for you this day?" The headmaster's tone was one of genuine curiosity. Looking into those blue twinkling eyes made Harry think that this was some sort of test. This too aided in increasing Harry's nervousness. Luckily his stern Transfiguration Professor was standing behind him and he drew comfort from that. He could practically feel her firm unyielding spirit as she kept her whole focus onto the Headmaster.
"To offer me a lemon drop, sir?" Harry tried meekly, earning an approving smile from Dumbledore.
"Of course! Where are my manners? Lemon drop?" After Harry politely accepted he turned to McGonagall who simply shook her head causing the Headmaster to shrug cheerfully. "No? Well, more for me." He said and plopped a lemon drop into his mouth. There was a peculiar silence as they sucked on the muggle candy, both monitoring one another, searching for a sign in the other's disposition. It continued for a while until McGonagall finally spoke up.
"Albus, will you get to the point already. Why did you call Mr. Potter to your office?" Her tone was nothing if not impatient and it successfully tore their attention from each other. The Headmaster shifted to peer at McGonagall for a second before nodding.
"Yes, I hope you will excuse my rudeness in asking you to come here so swiftly without any forewarning but there are some matters that I wish to discuss with young Mr. Potter as well as certain information he deserves to know." At this McGonagall nodded satisfactorily while Harry's anger, which had unexpectedly lied dormant so far, piqued as his suspicions were confirmed. As Dumbledore continued he was interrupted by Harry for his patience and anger with the old man finally burst. "My dear boy, as a start I would like to discuss your new hom…"
"Will you tell me why you kept my parents will hidden from me? Why you would even think you had the right to do so? Are you going to explain why I had to suffer for twelve years at my relatives home while all the time the salvation rested in your palms?" His pulse rising, he gathered his breath and continued on a sadder note, tears in his blazing emerald eyes, provoking a pained expression to cross Dumbledore's aged face. "Do you have any idea what life at the Dursleys was like for me? Work around the house every day. Sleep in a cupboard for ten years. Sometimes being locked into said cupboard for weeks with only bread and water for doing accidental magic, something I had no control of. No friends to play with and rumours spread by my own relatives to keep the neighbours away. Live in constant fear of being bullied by my cousin and his gang. Grow up being called freak every day by my own family. As a child, it was hard not to believe them, Professor; I really believed I was a freak. An abomination and a nuisance that was lucky to receive whatever my relatives gave me." As Harry spoke a single tear left Dumbledore's eye but he ignored it. For now he had no respect for Dumbledork.
"Harry…"
"I'm not done, old man." Harry's voice had become hard, unforgiving. "After I discovered that I was a wizard it got slightly better but I was still not entirely convinced. You see, they were afraid of the magic they had tried to beat out of me for ten years. However, once they learnt I could not do magic outside of Hogwarts without repercussions it got even worse than before. They showed me that even with all the magic in the world, they still had power over me. The labour got harder, the jeers got meaner and the food got reduced. Shortly thereafter, the beatings began." McGonagall looked outraged and moved as if to stop him from telling more but Harry ignored her and carried on, face set in stone with burning eyes. "Small at first, a herring here, a push there but they escalated quickly. I was forced to stand between the door and the doorframe as my uncle slammed the door shut. They broke my fingers, ripped my hair out in chunks and burned me with hot frying pans and those are just a handful of the many things they did to me. A few days before Mr. Weasley picked me up I had been thrown down the stairs and was covered with bruises." Harry wore an almost amused smile as he told the next part. It was unsettling to say the least. "Funnily enough, anything more serious than bruises would be healed by my body. Burns, cuts, broken bones as hair were healed and regrown in a matter of hours only to infuriate my uncle even more. I guess he was slightly pleased as well since it meant that he could continue the beatings without any real repercussions. It is ironic that the magic protected and healed me only to be hurt again. For once, my relatives actually took advantage of the thing they hated about me so much. It almost reached the point where I damned my magic for being responsible for everything that happened. Can you believe it? I was about to blame myself for being beaten by my pathetic excuse of an uncle. I was on the verge of truly becoming the freak that my relatives believed I was, blaming myself for everything. Now I know better on what, or in fact, who to blame." He spat the last part through his teeth while glaring at Dumbledore with eyes hot as the sun. During his story, McGonagall had changed from seemingly sick to revulsion to rage. Dumbledore was sitting back in his chair, stunned with the tears now flowing freely. If any of them noticed the fiery aura oozing from the young Gryffindor they gave no sign of doing so.
"Harry, why didn't you tell us?" Dumbledore asked weakly but quickly regretted it.
Harry howled and swept his arm in an arc. As one, all the flames in the room gathered in a curve to Harry. "WHY DIDN'T I TELL YOU? YOU ARE PUTTING THE BLAME ON ME? IF IT WASN'T FOR YOU I WOULD NEVER HAVE HAD TO GO THROUGH THIS HELL THAT HAS BEEN MY LIFE!" Harry shrieked as he hurled the stream of orange flame towards the Headmaster. Just before Dumbledore's desk it was stopped by a wall of water. After it extinguished the fire it swept over Harry, drenching him and cooling him down. He immediately sat down on the floor, exhausted.
"Although I perfectly agree with Mr. Potter so far, I do not think violence is the right course of action, yet." McGonagall announced with iron in her voice and proceeded to drag all the water out of Harry and his clothes and then dumped it unceremoniously on Dumbledore making Harry feel a little better, although far from the satisfaction he would have felt from turning the man to ash. She turned to Harry and bore her eyes into his, "Mr. Potter, you and I will have a serious discussion about this later. Now we will hear the Headmaster out." At Harry's slight nod she sniffed and returned her attention to the 'Great Albus Dumbledore', leader of the light and fighter for 'The Greater Good'.
.
Suddenly being drenched had startled the Headmaster out of his stupor for being attacked by his student. With Pyromancy no less! It was too much for even Dumbledore's mind to take in. How could he have been blind to the Dursleys treatment of Harry? Now the boy would have no trust for him at all and honestly, Albus could hardly blame him. And the boy was a pyromancer. He had known this but he had not expected this much progress in just a few months. It normally took years to reach this level. He was going to bring up Harry dropping Divination for his private lessons but as he thought about it he would let the matter drop. If his pyromancy was at this level already he would need to work more on it to learn to safely control it. The boy had also been training in Occlumency and although he seemed to have made considerable progress it was still possible for Dumbledore's gentle touch to slip through the boy's walls unnoticed. Doing so while Harry was talking Albus saw memories of being beaten and beaten again repeatedly throughout the last few years, he saw the shame, the fear and the reluctance to tell anyone about his demise. What had prompted him to doom the poor boy to such a cruel fate?
If Harry stayed at the Dursleys, sooner or later something horrible enough that even his magic could not heal would happen, and, at least indirectly, it would be his own, Dumbledore's, fault. He had never before felt such remorse for something he had done. In a matter of seconds he decided that he would do whatever to make it up to Harry, gaining his trust or no. He had planned on explaining the bloodwards to Harry and convince him to stay with his relatives for his safety but if the relationship between them were at such a level the wards would be useless. Even if they weren't he would not condemn the boy to such a fate, though Albus doubted that he had the power to do so even if he wanted to at the moment. Nevertheless, the truth came first.
"Harry, I will completely truthful with you. I have made a grave mistake and it has affected you greatly. May I ask that you listen to the ramblings of an old man before you judge me completely?" After short consideration and a reassuring hand on his shoulder from McGonagall, Harry nodded slightly, "I know that offering my condolences will not and should not make any difference to you," more nodding from Harry, "but I offer them anyway. I am truly sorry, Harry. I had not realized how you were treated while you lived with your relatives and I had no right to keep the will hidden from public. I do not know if I can ever make up for this grave offense but I can at least explain I reasoned." The Headmaster paused to rub his eyes and looked at Harry to see if he was paying attention. "Harry, what do you know about bloodwards?" Seeing Harry's confused look he went on explaining. "The reason Harry, that I had you live with your relatives was because of the bloodwards. When your mother so nobly sacrificed herself for you she activated a very ancient magic, a magic that would keep you safe with the people that share your blood, your aunt Petunia and your cousin Dudley as long as you can call that place your home."
"But I can't. I would rather die than go back to that… to that…" The boy spluttered, unable to form the words.
"Ah, and there is the key issue. While I knew that there was some feeling of animosity between you I did not believe it was to this extent. A mistake I only now realize and deeply regret, a mistake that could have been so easily repaired." Albus sighed deeply. "You see Harry, due to the lack of love between you and your relatives, the bloodwards are useless. There are two requirements for the bloodwards, one physical sense of family, the blood you share, and one emotional sense of family. I believe that they were actually in effect at the time you were taken in but over the years they have been rendered ineffective. I only wish that I had come to check on them and so I could have found a new home for you."
A tired Harry looked up at Albus from where he sat on the floor. The boy shook his head in disappointment. "You still don't get it, do you?" It was more a statement than question. "I wish that you had never placed me with them all. The way you see it, it makes it seem that you would have been alright with me beginning to suffer while living with my relatives. You want me to take a few beatings so that the feeling of home has completely disappeared and no until then remove me from the hellhole. I want it to be so that not I, nor anyone else for that matter, would ever have to suffer from the beginning."
Seeing the mistake so blatantly pointed out to him, Albus could only nod. Where had his humanity gone? What was the point of living if you could not truly live? He had been so caught up in politics and the constant battle between light and dark that he had not cared for the lives of others, nor his own. Seemingly he was fighting a winning battle so far, but why had he limited the lives of the others on his side while the enemy clearly did whatever they wanted? He was fighting for the right of a peaceful and free life when it was he himself who was hindering that from happening. For the first time in a very long time Albus Dumbledore smiled a genuine smile. Not the grandfatherly smile he usually put on, although that was genuine in its own way, no, this was the same smile that he had taken up a large part of his youth. It was a smile that showed that one was happy, easy as that, happy because of life, uncomplicated and trouble-free. It was a smile that had not seen the light of day since he had first met a certain young blonde boy.
"Yes, Harry. You are perfectly right." To his slight amusement McGonagall's eyes widened somewhat in surprise. It was amazing how clearly the mind of a boy of only thirteen years could see while his mind, with more than a century's worth of experience was so clouded. But maybe that was what was needed. All of a sudden he could feel his old joints creak. His body was not what it used to be, young, lean and athletic. He could feel his age weighing onto him, pushing him down towards the earth. But it was not time just yet, there was still much he needed to do and much others needed to know. What he didn't have in body he would make up with in mind. "Harry," He called out but he wasn't sure what to say. He felt that what had happened since Minerva forcibly took the will from him was actually for the best, as well as Sirius Black getting a trial… "Harry, about your godfather, Sirius," The boy narrowed his eyes suspiciously as Albus hurried on, "I think I can be of help during the trial. If you'd let me of course."
This time, Minerva actually gasped in surprise, THE Albus Dumbledore, actually asking for permission, from a thirteen year old boy! However, this time Minerva's reaction was more to the irritation of Albus than amusement. Really, she had begun to slip quite a lot recently. Fortunately there weren't any other students here than Harry, and he was busy examining Albus before speaking. Indeed, an incredibly bright and clear-minded young man.
"I assume you want me to forgive you for all that you have doomed me to since Voldemort killed my parents and you want to make up for it by helping in freeing Sirius?" Once again, the boy more stated than asked.
"While I do not expect you to forgive me until perhaps even after I am dead I would be lying to you if I said I didn't wish for it to happen sooner. As for Sirius trial, it would be the right thing to do, and it is a start. I have power, a lot of it, and power is very often useful." It had almost turned into a business deal and it was very impersonal. Albus disliked it having to be so, but he had brought this upon himself and all he could do now was his best, which was actually quite good if he dared say so himself.
"Good, I would not expect it either." The boy replied coolly after a moment of deep thinking. "Nevertheless, I have some people that I look up to, like Professor McGonagall here," He gestured to the Professor and she smiled brightly back at him, "and I know that she would be proud if I at the least gave you a chance. I will, therefore accept your offer of help, it would be foolish not to and I hope that we can rebuild our relationship and reach the point where I will be able to forgive you. Although, right now, we are extremely far away from that point."
Albus nodded slowly, unable to hold his smile back, the muscles in his face seemed to have a will on their own, while Harry coldly observed him.
"I am glad we have come to an agreement." Harry finished although he seemed anything but glad. The young man then excused himself and departed from the office with Minerva, constantly glancing back at Albus, in tow.
Albus himself could not contain his smile any longer. It had transformed into a full-blown grin with even his eyes participating, twinkling like mad, but not in the usual old grandfatherly way but in a pure and innocent way, full of love and happiness. The boy had opened his eyes anew. Feeling a laugh working its way up from his stomach he let it out and still oblivious to the wet state of his robes, Albus started to clean his office from the mess after his first horrible and then quite pleasant meeting, the muggle way of course. The moment was too precious to just have it disappear with a flick of his wand. The moment he had finally returned to his old true self.
The only thing that could possibly sadden him was that it had taken so much suffering to bring him back but even that had been pushed to the back of his mind for the moment. Although throughout the rest of his life, however long or short that would be, it would occasionally cause him hours of grief and regret.
.
It was a flustered Minerva McGonagall that walked out of the Headmaster's office and who could really blame her? It had gone from a meeting full of tension and burning of bridges where she thought Dumbledore would restrict Harry and return him to his horrible relatives to a business-like meeting where the Headmaster attempted to help them instead and rebuild those very same bridges. It had even reached the point of a full confrontation with Harry using his Pyromancy, almost burning Dumbledore to a crisp. Somehow, through it all, she had been able to keep her senses and stop the attack. Dumbledore certainly hadn't been in a state to defend himself and personally, at the time, she had certainly wanted to drown him in the Great Lake but she had satisfied herself with drenching him. Minerva was and had always been a very righteous person and she believed strongly in the expression of "right should be right." Harry attacking the Headmaster had not been right and so she stopped it.
There was also something about the Headmaster's smile. She could simply not get the image of Albus smile out of her head. There was something special about that smile, something so genuine and almost magical. Then again, perhaps it was, with magic, nothing was impossible.
Gathering herself up, she finally had complete control over herself. If she could not control herself, how could she control the situation? For now, she had a student to take care of and she would not fail him, not after so many others had. Walking behind him she cleared her throat, "Mr. Potter. I believe it is appropriate for us to have our own little meeting." He turned, startled and then fidgeted a little nervously. Minerva had to remind herself that he was only thirteen. It was sometimes easy to forget, especially after an experience like just now. "If you'll follow me to my office," she commanded and he followed, head bowed.
.
Harry was nervous to say the least. Professor McGonagall was one of the ones if not the one he looked up to the most as well as the one he felt closest to. She had never betrayed him and always been a rock solid presence in his life since he began Hogwarts. She had always been looking out for her students.
Now, after his training with her, she had become more to him than just a trusted teacher. If he had to put it in words he would describe their relationship as master-disciple. She had gone the extra length and started to train him personally. He knew that it was highly unusual and she could probably get into trouble for it. Hell, he had thought she would get into trouble for it during their meeting with Dumbledore but the meeting had taken a completely different turn midway. Something had changed in the old man and although Harry didn't know exactly what, he definitely thought it was for the better.
He was brought out of his musings when they reached McGonagall's office and as she held the door for him with a stern expression he was reminded why he felt nervous. He had attacked the Headmaster, with his Pyromancy no less. McGonagall had luckily stopped him and cooled him with her own Hydromancy but the Professor was (and should be) without a doubt displeased with him, especially as Harry was still banned from using it. He couldn't help but shudder as he imagined how she would express her disappointment. She might refuse to teach him forever, Harry contemplated; ignoring the fact that she knew it would be too dangerous to leave a Pyromancer with only his level of training alone.
The Professor took a deep breath and sat down behind her desk and Harry looked down to the floor, preparing himself mentally for the berating he was sure to receive.
It never came.
Looking up Harry saw that McGonagall had begun to sort the papers on her desk, ignoring him.
.
Minerva McGonagall had been hard-pressed not to let her stern mask slip as Harry trudged into her office but she had done it. She was actually a little proud of herself for it. She had slipped often recently when she prided herself of being seen as the stern and just Professor and berated herself for it. Now the look on her sullen lion made her almost laugh inside.
She had planned on having a serious talk about his Pyromancy and not only his use of it in the Headmaster's office earlier. Her plans had however become postponed as she noticed how nervous the boy was. As stern and serious as McGonagall was thought to be, even she sometimes acted upon the urge of having a little fun on another's expense. Therefore she did not pass up the opportunity as it presented itself. Hopefully it would also calm the boy's nerves a little when she was done.
As she sat down she noticed Harry staring the floor and waiting for her to speak. Instead she took out her lesson plans for the next week and began sorting them, she could feel the tension rising as the boy thought he was in more and more trouble and she fought even harder to keep her smirk down. After a few minutes Harry looked up at her confused and so she felt she had made the young lion nervous enough. Now it was time to reduce the tension.
"Mr. Potter, would you be so kind and hand me the first year essays to your right?"
Surprised, Harry looked to his right and found the essays on the process of turning a matchstick into a needle lying on a small round table. He took them and walked over to her desk to hand them over gingerly. She thanked him with a small smile and before he could turn back to the where he had stood before she conjured up a chair right behind him and pushed it against his knees, causing him to fall into it.
"Take a quill and start grading these." She said and took out some of the essays from the pile, handing them to Harry. She also handed a different parchment with several checkpoints and a number next to each checkpoint. "The checkpoints state what needs to be included and the number next to them state how many points each of the checkpoints are worth. Follow that guide when grading and you shouldn't do too badly."
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Harry, not knowing the workings of the Transfiguration Professor's mind but knowing better than to argue, started to grade the first essay. He was mildly surprised to see that the first essay was written by his little sister, Astoria. Going over it and checking the guide he saw that she had a pretty good understanding of the process, probably better than he had in his first year at the time. She did miss some of the points however, but she tried and was really close so Harry gave her those points anyway. Pleased and a little proud that his little sister had managed to get full points on her essay he proceeded to the next one, written by Romilda Vane. Harry thought he recognized the name to be from Gryffindor but he promised himself to not be biased and so even though she had a pretty good understanding of the process he could not give her full points on the essay since she missed a few of the checkpoints even though she was close sometimes.
Seeing that Harry had calmed down Professor McGonagall decided to begin her slightly delayed meeting with Harry.
"Mr. Potter, Harry. I have heard from Professor Lupin that you have thought a lot about your Pyromancy." Harry, a little startled, nodded. He had not expected her to take this approach. "Well," she said expectantly, "Tell me what you think."
Harry pause and took a moment to sum up the points of Romilda Vane's essay as well as to collect his thoughts through the help of an exercise he had learned in one of his Occlumency lessons with Lupin. Finally he breathed out and began with a calm voice explain his thoughts on his Pyromancy.
"Professor, as you might have noticed I was a bit lost and confused right after the… incident." He gulped a little and she nodded to show the she understood that he referred to when she had yelled at him. "Directly after I stayed and meditated. I tried to think about what I did that was so wrong and why but I couldn't come up with anything. After several days I talked a little with Professor Lupin, however, and he gave me some really helpful advice."
The Professor raised an eyebrow at him before scribbling something on the essay she was correcting. "Oh? And what was this advice?"
His check reddened slightly, embarrassed that he had needed help when he should have come up with this on his own. "He said that I need to do more than just think about using my power. I need to understand it completely, how, when, where and why I should use it."
The Professor nodded in agreement. "That is indeed some good advice. And?" She asked and tapped her fingers expectantly for him to continue.
"Since, I have put away some time almost every day for meditating and attempting to find the answers to those questions, after my Occlumency practice." She nodded with a small smile, urging him to continue. "When I meditate with this in mind it's pretty weird. It's like I am examining my magical core and memories where I have used my Pyromancy. I can't really explain it but I can see how my magic turns into fire and how I can mediate it through my body as well as outside of it. I can see the dangers of what can happen depending on how I apply my magic to it. It's on a far deeper level than just doing it. I think that sort of answers the how?" The Professor hummed in agreement. She had left the essay she was grading on the table and her full attention was on Harry. Harry, on the other hand, didn't notice as he ticked off a point on the essay he was currently grading, this one by another Ravenclaw student. After a short while Harry noticed that this person had actually scored all the points one could but McGonagall would probably think it weird if he gave two out of the first three essays he graded full marks so he deducted some just out of good will. "Well, as to when, where I should use it, I am not sure. It is a useful ability and I would be a fool not to use it but I would also be a fool to rely on it too heavily. Actually all I have come up with so far is that when and where I use it I need to be in complete control of it fully aware of my surroundings. I do not want to hurt anyone I don't intend to." Harry paused for a moment and then, a little ashamed, added, "Not like what happened at the Professor Dumbledore's office today. That was not right."
Professor McGonagall actually smiled at him at that. "I am pleased that you recognize it as such. We'll bring it up again after you have also told me the reason why you should use it."
Harry nodded solemnly; he had expected her to bring it up from the beginning. "Why I should use it? Well, I don't know Professor. When I deem it necessary?" He asked uncertainly. "I would like to say that I would use it for good, to protect from evil but that would be naïve. All I know is that I have this power at my disposal and it is mine to use. I do not think that I, nor anyone else for that matter, will be able to predict all the situations I will be in. There is a time for everything and I will adjust my reason to fit the situation. I cannot promise that I will use it only for the Light. The world is not white and black and it is seldom easy to say what is what. You will simply have to trust me that I will be able to use it responsibly." He said the last with a shrug and looked up to see the Professor eyeing him with her green ocean-like eyes.
"It seems that you have put quite a lot of thought into this Mr. Potter." She stated slowly, tasting every word. "We will resume your training again," the corner of her mouth twitched slightly as she saw the excitement on his face, "after Christmas break." Her mouth twitched even more as his face fell. "You have clearly contemplated on the incident as well as reached a deeper understanding of your ability. I believe you are beginning to mature quite a bit." Harry sighed, it was still a lot better than he had suspected. "Next is your punishment for attacking the Headmaster. Although I know all the circumstances and you feel regret over it, I cannot let this go unpunished. One hundred points will be taken from Gryffindor and you will spend a week in detention, helping me grading essays."
Harry nodded. "Yes, Professor."
"Good. You are dismissed. Go to your dorm."
With, that Harry left the Professor's office unceremoniously. He was far from happy about the point deduction, his fellow Gryffindors would not be very happy with him either, but the detention could have been worse. He had actually found it not too bad while grading the first year essays, almost enjoyed it. Mayhap he should consider becoming a teacher once he graduates from Hogwarts, he mused, he knew he'd be a fair one. As he walked to the Gryffindor tower he thought he heard a ringing laughter from behind him but when he stopped to listen he heard nothing.
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McGonagall peered at the three essays Harry Potter had graded. As she glanced over them she saw that he had given Astoria Greengrass full marks. Her interest piqued she looked through it, her amusement growing by the second. Next she saw another Ravenclaw essay by a Lucerna Arida, a student who usually aced all her schoolwork but she had apparently missed several points on this essay. Curious, the professor looked through it as well and after a few seconds she compared it to the Greengrass one. Seeing what Harry had done she let out a ringing laughter before she clamped a hand over her mouth. She knew how well sound carried through the halls and she hoped harry had gotten far enough away to not hear her.
She thought about Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, her young lion and even her disciple and chuckled slightly to herself. Let's hope he doesn't want to become a teacher. He would be terrible, far too biased.
AN: There you go! I hope it was a good chapter despite the long wait.
You should probably expect the next few chapters to take about as long if not longer but after the 18th of May I will probably be able to dish out a lot of chapters after that. (That is the day I write the last of my tests)
Please review and have a great day!
P.S. If you'd like, please check out the beginning of my new story, "The Hardships of Family". I got a sudden pang of inspiration and wrote in the space of 2 hours.