Disclaimer: Oh, give me a break. Not mine, her's.
Ok, well…lateness. Yeah. Over three month's lateness…*winces and ducks flying objects*. Life has been incredibly busy; between school and debate my life was virtually non-existent. And, plus, I sort of lost the muses for a little bit; I just wasn't sure where I was going with this story and how to get there. However, I have already started on the next chapter, so there oughtn't to be any lag like this last time; but all I will say is that I promise not to totally abandon the fic; that it will, eventually, no matter how long it takes me, get to its conclusion. And by the way, your guess is as good as mine on both what and when that will be *grin*. I've taken some closer time on my proofreading for this chapter, watching it on ellipses and long paragraphs, so please tell me whether there is an overabundance of either of them or any other constructive or even nonconstructive comments that you have for me- I love feedback, and I have responded to previous stuff at the bottom, as always. And, as always, if you wish to be notified of my mercurial updates, either tell me in your review (!) or email me at amariran@yahoo.com . Oh, one more thing: my best friend pointed out that the name that Hermione chose for herself (Calypso Anastasia) was rather flowery and would attract attention rather than aid in her concealment, but if anyone else had this thought, I will tell you the same thing that I told her: because this is the wizarding world, and I'm sure we have all noticed that JKR's characters tend towards odd names, this is a normal type name, actually (I mean, really; how many 'Albus Dumbledores' do you run into on a regular basis?). Oh, and one more thing..no, two: IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ: There are a few things, clearly, that are out of cannon with OOtP, please tell me if you would like me to change them or if I can leave it as is. ALSO, there are two spellings to the word magic. I prefer the Old English spelling, because I believe that 'Magick' is far more evocative of the feelings and true meaning of the word than the insipid modern spelling. It's something of a pet peeve to see this labeled as a 'mistake' or 'misspelling'; I like to think that I have a little more care for the English Language than to engage in a *perpetual* misspelling (I, of course, often make mistakes, though). Having said that, I thank those readers who felt it was there duty to point out an obvious failing in my writing; it is, just not that one… Thanks, sorry, continue!
Anytime At All
The rain poured down the small window of her flat in gloomy, uninspired pathways. How…amusingly ironic, Hermione thought. For it was the day of her rendezvous with Edouard. In just a few moments, she would be meeting the man at a bar of his choice; she would be Apparating to the French Ministry of Magick, where she had found out that he worked. The timing was as dissimilar to her meeting with Snape as could be since she was utilizing her free night. Still, the thought of that ill-fated lunch made Hermione hesitate. Perhaps it was the thought of something that never was- and never could be- that set her in such a melancholy mood on a day when she ought to overjoyed by the proximity of her first true date in, well, recent (and admittedly not so recent) recollection. And with a handsome, charming man who listened to her and cared and…
To be honest, Hermione felt that perhaps it as just all too good to be true. All her life, every time things started to go just a little too well, some brutal twist of fate sent her back into despair. And at the moment, everything was going well. She was making money, and so she was able to keep fending off Eldrich's advances purely because he thought with his pocket book even more than with his sex drive, if by only a little bit. True, she felt nauseous every time she had to dance, felt the wrongness of it within the core of her being, but she also knew that it was what she had to do. She had not, of course, told Edouard. Perhaps the secret shadows of her life that she could share with no one were part of the reason she was standing at the window of her apartment and watching the gloomy weather beat the glass with an mirroring gloomy look on her face.
Then the alarm that she had set for herself, exactly two minutes before she was to meet him in the Receiving Room of the Ministry, went off, and Hermione nearly jumped a foot in the air. Her skirt was pretty enough, as was the top she wore; she had slowly begun to make the transition from dowdy by day waitress and slut by night dancer, to a normal girl about her age. It would take her a while to truly change her wardrobe so that she was happy with it, not to mention the money that it was going to cost, but this was a start. She smoothed the light cotton down as she took a deep breath, and then Apparated.
***
Edouard glanced at the clock on the wall for what was probably the umpteenth time. He had tried to convince Hermione- it delighted him to think that after spending the wedding reception with her they were on a first name basis, were friends - to go out to dinner with him, but she had opted for a drink instead, and he had realized that pushing would be the exact wrong thing to do. He had picked out the perfect place; nice, but not particularly fancy, and with a casual ambience that he felt she would like. She needed to relax more- even from knowing her just a little while he could tell that; and, well, he had not been lying when he had told her that he felt as thought he had known her for far longer than he had. Speaking of them becoming friends, he wondered where it was that he wanted this relationship to go. There was something oddly compelling about the girl, although she admitted that she used complex cosmetic charms in her work through fear of recognition, which often caused hair fading and the like. It was a bit odd, he thought, that she was so adamant about keeping her identity secret in her new jobs, but he supposed that she was just that ashamed of menial labor. Still, despite all that, he could tell that she was quite pretty and would be even more so in the right clothes. Overall, she intrigued him, and he was excited to see where tonight would go. Thus was his excuse for checking the clock yet one more time.
***
When Hermione finally met Edouard, she was quite pleased with his reaction to her simple but elegant look, even if the clothing was rather cheap in her opinion. Still, it was an improvement and she was satisfied to have it noticed and approved by her companion as he led her out with an amiable nod to the guard and a friendly hand on her arm. They strolled in the balmy air of Paris, for he told her that the place that he had chosen was but a few blocks away, and Hermione certainly did not mind a little walk; if nothing else, she was in the best physical shape of her life. She had even taken to doing exercises and muscle stretches in her free time. At first, both seemed disinclined to speak to the other, lost in their own thoughts, but they slowly opened up.
"Oh, my goodness…" Hermione muttered under her breath as a wild teen muggle walked past with purple spiked hair. She was hardly a prude, but she *was* conservative enough to think that such adornments were rather ridiculous. Amusingly enough, outwardly straight-laced Edouard didn't seem to agree. He turned to her in surprise, although neither stopped to gawk at the girl.
"Do you think it's strange? I think it's rather cool, myself. I must admit that it is not something that I would do to my own hair, but it is fascinating."
"Hm. I don't know…I think that I just believe that there are certain colors that simply do not belong on someone's head." Hermione fixed a mock serious look at Edouard as he halted their progress in front of a gilt door. "And by the way, are you *certain* that you wouldn't consider dying your hair? I do believe you would look quite striking in, say, pumpkin orange?" Hermione and Edouard shared a laugh as they both went in to the small bar.
Edouard smiled at the hostess as she walked up to the couple with a cheerful expression on her face.
"Monsieur Decriste, comment t allez vous? Est-ce que vous voulez un table pour deux près votre place normale ? »
« Non, pas aujourd'hui, je regrette. Nous voulons seulement des apéritifs. Je suis content, et vous ? » Edouard asked the girl, who often worked shifts at the same time he stopped in for a drink or a meal when he worked late as she led them to the smooth polished wooden bar in the side room of the restaurant.
"Oui, très. Merci. Ah, voilà, vos places. Passez une bonne soirée.» And with a polite nod, the girl went back to the small stand near the door, ready to welcome the next guests, who trickled in at a fairly steady pace.
"You come here often?" Hermione asked as they waited for the attention of the bartender.
"When I get out of work late, yes. It gets lonely, sometimes, to come home to a late dinner in my apartment. Mother offered to let me stay with her, but…" He trailed off but Hermione was already nodding with empathy, at least with the first part of his statement. She too knew how frustrating it was to come home to cold rooms and silence.
"I know the feeling. Well, the empty apartment anyways." Edouard looked at her with a silent question in his eyes. "Ah, my parent were… murdered in my seventh year at Hogwarts, shortly before Voldemort was defeated. They left their estate in its entirety to my older cousin who was almost like a daughter to them, because she and her husband have, er, financial difficulties, and they never guessed that I would ever need help…that I would end up in a situation like this." She smiled at his empathetic nod, mirroring her own moments before. She had never been on very good terms with Arianna and her deadbeat husband, but her mother had been very attached to her youngest sister's child and she had felt no need to contest the will, since it made clear the reason they had left her with objects of sentimental value was that they had every faith in her that she could support herself well. And they had never planned on dying so young…
Edouard saw Hermione thoughts drift and a sad look cloud her eyes, but it was quickly gone and she smiled brightly at him.
"So, tell me more about what you do at the Ministère de Magique. I learned only that you have to keep up with a lot of world events and news." Edouard began to talk about a job that he so obviously loved, and Hermione loved to listen to him talk, although he certainly was not the only one speaking during the rest of the evening.
Two hours later, and several alcoholic beverages as well, both the wizard and the witch were still talking animatedly, when Hermione happened to glance at her watch. Her eyes widened in surprise at how quickly the time had passed. She did not want to leave, but she had to be up early in the morning; and her body knew it, for she was yawning an absurd amount of times. Edouard, who paid close attention to details, caught both the yawns and the discreet glance at her watch, and he skillfully brought their current conversation to a close, and, before they could get sidetracked onto another brilliant and fascinating topic, suggested that he see her home. At first, Hermione was ready to agree with him, but then she pictured her tiny, ugly apartment- and the signs of the life that she lived that were strewn plainly about. She smiled and declined his polite offer, and he walked with her out to the front of the building. It was getting dark, and that meant it was rather late, since the sun set so late in the summer, and Hermione knew that she had made the right decision in deciding to go home now…but she didn't want to in the least. She flashed Edouard a regretful smile as she told him that she had to work early tomorrow. He returned her look with one of his own and gently picked up her hand and kissed it before she Apparated back to her real life.
As soon as Hermione got back to apartment, she began to reform the multitude of charms and incantations that held the persona that was practically hers now. Soon, she would have to begin practicing to create an entirely new person. Along with her studying for the exams that would hopefully grant her entrance to a new life and the world that had shut her out, she had been devouring books on disguises, both muggle and magickal. She was fairly certain that she would be able to change not just her physical characteristics, but her walk and even her voice. By the time she was ready to become Calypso Anastasia, she would be able to walk right into Harry or Ron without them even knowing it was her. Hell, she bet she could even fool Snape. Now that presented an interesting situation. Walking up to Snape and testing those much vaunted spy sense of his. Ha! Hermione finished the last charm that bound the spells to her face and body and sat down at her small kitchen table with a glass of water. She certainly didn't need any more alcohol, for although she was nowhere drunk, she was buzzed enough to not want any thing else to drink.
***
Severus looked down at his glass, then sighed and put it away. He didn't really feel like getting piss drunk tonight. Even pleasant inebriation seemed a bit too self-indulgent at the moment. After all, even when Dumbledore *had* imbibed in the occasional drink on holidays, he had never gotten drunk when there was the possibility of someone needing him for something. Now sugar high on those disgusting teeth rotting candies he always had, that was another matter altogether. Snape could hear the man's voice as though it was in his ear: 'you can never have too much energy!' He chuckled a little bit, but his humor was short lived. It was late, and the rest of the castle, those teachers who had stayed over the summer break, were all asleep; but he was having difficulty in finding his way to Morpheus's arms. In fact, he had been having trouble sleeping ever since the wedding, ever since he had gotten a glimpse of a too thin girl with dark circles under her eyes. A girl who looked like she needed someone to care for her.
He snorted in self-derision. Right, and you think that person could be you? He sneered at his stupidity as he recalled another sight, later at the wedding reception. That same girl with a little bit of color in her cheeks, laughing at something her dinner companion had said. Her male dinner companion. He had glanced away as quickly as he was able- just in time to catch Harry Potter's level, compassionate gaze on him. He had thought about nodding and acknowledging the man, for after all, it was his wedding day, but he couldn't quite bring himself to. It would also mean something of an acknowledgement that he had been staring at Hermione. And since he had no idea why his gaze was drawn to her, he refused to admit to it.
But that didn't make it any less true and he still thought about her at odd moments of the day; a pause in the conversation at lunch, the seconds before he stepped out of his chambers in the morning. Snape sighed yet again, and then walked into his dark bedroom without turning on a light, stripped to his boxers and fell onto his bed. He might as well try to get some sleep, no matter how futile it seemed- if there was one thing he had learned in the two years that he had been Headmaster of Hogwarts, it was that the administrative duties for this place never ended.
***
Sunlight didn't hit the windows of either of them, though, before they awoke. Snape heard birds chirping loudly, in the dark. He sighed, knowing that his day would be as full as ever, despite the fact that school wasn't in session. In fact, sometimes things were slightly more peaceful when the students were in the building. No, who was he trying to fool? The work never ended, but he had come to realize that there was nothing he liked doing more. Although the thought occurred-just what did that say about him?
Hermione woke up to the sounds of a domestic fight somewhere in her building. Because she cared just that much that the 'fucking bastard' had stumbled in drunk with lipstick stains from some 'low down cheap whore hussy, no doubt'. Attempts to pull her pillow over her head were extremely unsuccessful, and by the time she mustered the energy to reach for her wand next to her bed, she realized that it was time for her to get up anyways. She winced, knowing that her day rarely held anything positive, or even unusual, and dragged herself out of the mess of sheets and blankets. She was a light sleeper, but tended to move a lot; she found making her bed to be a simple pleasure every morning courtesy of her magickal ability- a wave of her wand and 'poof'.
She did some stretches to stay limber, got herself some breakfast, and then a quick glance at her watch informed her that it was time to Apparate to her first job of the day. Her days had fallen into a routine that had been happily broken by last night's little adventure. Frankly, Hermione, who had thrived on change and excitement, had grown up overturning plots by evil overlords, was bored. Oh, she hardly wanted to run out and get herself killed, but there was definitely something missing. She had never been particularly fond of routine; methodology, yes, but secretly, she had craved the excitement that her forays with Ron and Harry had provided. The boring routine of her very first job had been her initial indication that it might not have been the best pathway to choose. And now, even though she had made an enormous change, she was right back to that same never-differing schedule that had begun her years of drudgery. The only hope she had was that it was only a few more weeks until she was away from this place, away from this life…
Throughout the next few days, whenever she had a free moment- and sometimes when she didn't, as a few bruises could attest to- Hermione's thoughts were occupied with change. She knew that she wanted more of it in her life, but now she was starting to have second feelings about whether she was really prepared to deal with the true enormity of the situation she was about to embark on. She should have been ready, fresh and flowering, to take this chance at eighteen, but at eighteen she had been alone in the world and too shaken by her encounter with the Dark to consider it. And now, here she was, a jaded twenty year old, trying to compete with kids just out of school with brand new outlooks on life and the latest knowledge stuffed into their heads by their professors. She just wasn't certain…oh, sure, all the colleges had liked her essay, but… The same self defeating arguments that had been playing through her mind for over two years resounded in an orchestral clash that made her want to sit down and give up. The climax came, as always, in the worst possible moment.
The spotlight was on her, the music was heavy with innuendoes, and Hermione knew that tonight she would make a lot of money, because the crowd was drunk and eager to see the star of the night. Every attempt to study today had been met with mental cries of how stupid she was to even attempt this, and she had been forced to give up. She strode across the stage, oozing sex appeal and confidence as though this was, indeed the career that she was made for. And, somewhere in the middle of her routine, she started to believe it. She started to wonder what it was, really, that made her so unwilling to settle down in a life like this. She began to ruthlessly quash the already faint voice that told her that there was something else out there for her, something better than what she was doing now- more suited to her talents. And then, as she did a move she had been particularly reticent to perform- and was only doing so from dire threats from Eldrich- when her embarrassment was at its absolute peak, the entire drunken mass of men turned into a single face, multiplied a hundred or more times. Severus Snape. And she just stopped. She just stopped and ran off the stage, ran out of the bar, and ran- forgetting entirely about Apparition- ran back to her apartment.
She didn't bother turning on the lights as she flung the door shut behind her- her eyes were too full of tears to be able to see. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do, wasn't sure what she needed to do….hell, she wasn't sure about anything at the moment. It had hit her, suddenly, that losing one's identity wasn't the sort of lark that she and Ron and Harry had gotten up to in school. Yes, an adventure it could be called, but this was her life, and there was no evil madman lurking around the corner to justify rash decisions. It was all her. If she fucked up her life for the third time, she would have no one to blame but herself. And she knew that there were no fourth chances. Last try. Final round.
Hermione looked around at what vague shapes she could see through the gloomy dark that encased the room as though beseeching them for advice- but being emre inanimate objects, they gave her no solace. Hermione ran through a short- a very painfully short- list of people she could go to and settled, at last, on help. She took a deep breath, and Apparated before she could talk herself out of it.
He was awakened by a thump against something in his living room, and then a lighter thump, as though someone had knocked against the table therein, upon which lay towering stacks of research and other work-related material that he had always promised to get around to sorting through…eventually. Now, however, he was amused to find that they were serving a sort of burglar alarm function. Although it did occur on occasion, burglary of magickal homes was quite rare, and he was intrigued that a muggle was able to get past some of the charms he had up. Pulling his dressing gown a bit tighter, for he always forgot to turn off his Cooling Charm before he retired for the night and so was doomed to wake up frozen in the middle of the summer, and clutching his wand in a defensive grip, he crept out his door and peered around the corner to see who was in his flat. And, if Edouard De Criste was not the excellently trained Wizard that he was, he might have dropped his wand in shock when the figure, facing where he was standing, was revealed to him in a pale slash of moonlight.
***
Hermione froze, staring into the shocked eyes of her chosen confidant. And immediately gained resolve to see this through. Hermione Granger was who she was, even when she wasn't sure who precisely that was. Good lord, her mind was muddled! So muddled, in fact, that she was quite surprised that she had managed to Apparate to this place, having been there only once and only for a moment; to pick up a magazine that Edouard thought she would enjoy but had forgotten to bring to their lunch meeting two days ago. She broke the tableau, and sat weakly on the sofa beside her, cast with the sinister shadows of moonlight. And as though that was his cue, Edouard moved forward as well, using his wand to emit a soft, but still bright enough light for them to hold whatever strange discussion this would surely prove to be. He was observant enough to take in her swollen eyes and the cloak flunk haphazardly about her body as though to conceal what she wore- or from what he could see with a quick sweeping glance- what she wasn't wearing. He took a deep breath, sat on the other side of the couch, and waited for her to begin. If there was one thing he had learned about Hermione Granger since she had come into his life, it was that nothing was ever simple.
Hours later, Hermione had a far clearer idea of what she wanted from life…and it wasn't as though Edouard had given the answers, because he couldn't. He had just been there for her, listening, only making suggestions when she had run out of steam and hit the same brick wall that she had been hitting all day. That she had been hitting for the latest part of her life, in truth. It was nice. It was like she and Harry and Ron, sitting in the semi-darkness of the Gryffindor Common Room, a curious intimacy born of shared adventures and common goal that lasted for years…but that had, by now, faded with distance. So here she was, all talked out, an oddly comfortable silence aided by the murky light that their wands emitted and the stillness of the rest of the world, just before dawn.
It had been a long time since Hermione had felt this way around any one. She looked over at the handsome man- she didn't have very far to look, because he was sitting thigh to thigh with her, peering into her eyes with his own light brown ones, which seemed to darken with emotion the longer she stared into them. Suddenly, but deliberately, Hermione and Edouard leaned towards the other. Their heads tilted in opposite direction, their breathing came just a little bit faster, and the hands which had been clutched together for support broke apart and reached to tangle in the other's hair as their lips met.
FRENCH TRANSLATION (Pineapple and Madeline Jete, thank you both for your help with the French/translations; I am indebted (and feel monumentally stupid!):
-Mr. DeCriste, how are you? Would you like a table for two near your usual place?
-No, not today, I regret. We want only drinks. I am happy, and you?
-Yes, very. Ah, here are your places. Have a good night.
As always, my incredible thanks; if it weren't for the people that have continued to review, and those that reviewed for the first time on the past chapter, it would certainly have taken me a lot longer to get this chapter out. To show you how devoted an author I am, and explain all incoherencies sure to come, I am doing this at midnight and thirty…and I have to get up at seven forty five tomorrow, too. We'll ignore the fact that I sort of procrastinated all the rest of the evening….and just get on with the replies and thank-you's, shan't we?
Bluestarfish: Ah, my thoughts precisely, and I am glad that you like and appreciate him for what he is; although he is a character in his own right, not merely a set-up for Snape…I hope that you find this update, too, and remember that you enjoyed it (k, so If you didn't you wont be reading this…erm…). Thanks for the comment; your thought mirror my own, but then, I don't really control the story, as numerous and disturbing turns have proven to me!
troesnaja : Well, I'm glad you like her; I think that one of the points that I am trying to get across is that Hermione needs to dig herself out of this hole herself, and her friend's, well-intentioned that they are, might hinder her actual progress mentally, if not, perhaps, physically or financially.
Helena: J Another person after my own heart, though I must remind you that I have very little control over the actual happenings in the story; the muses only give me the (generally, and without sarcasm) glorious job of transcribing events- the actual wording. And thank you for you praise.
Ozratbag2: Before I re-read your review and reply I must begin with praises of your own very intriguing work; although I am a lazy bum and have yet to review it, I am certainly following your latest story (the title escapes me- its summer and I spend most of my sad life reading SS/HG fics, what do you expect?). I think the concept is quite novel, and I can't wait to see where it all ends up- I also like the fresh format (the short journal entries). Ok, now, to the review: Oh, goodness, you left me one of my absolute favorite type of review; one that tells me what you like and what issues you want to see focused on in the story. Thanks muchly. I'm glad you like my portrayals and hope that you read on and see if your predictions are right, I'm trying hard not to give my plot (what little of it the muses let me see) away. And about the boss- well, several people have expressed a wish to see him (both of them, I suppose) subjected to various cruel tortures; I have very inventive (read: slightly disturbing!) readers. I really think I may have to write an alternative scene, where Hermione goes psycho on them…mmm…
Jana B: well, one of the few things that I can promise is that she will *eventually* end up with Snape, I just can't tell you when. I hope you like the update.
Alexial: Wow, very nice review in that you quite succinctly pointed out the things you liked- such detail always makes me happy and I thank you for that..I tend to ramble…And, well, although Hermione will eventually end up with Severus, I can't tell you when.
MadAboutHarry: I always look forward to your reviews; thank you very much for the feedback. Glad you like Edouard; I (and Hermione) do as well. Um, Ron. Hmm. I can't recall that part, let me re-read the chapter…Oh. Its actually just what it says, nothing more and nothing less. I sort of see Ron as a bit more analytical than Harry; someone who sees when there is a puzzle and tries to figure it out, as opposed to his more emotionally driven best friend, and Ron sees that she is trying to cover something up and wondering about what it is, and whether it is something that would make him not want to be friends with her or something. Hope that helps; Ron wont figure very much in this story, but your bringing it up refreshes my memory of the points..which may be important for a scene I am thinking about in the future, thanks… Ah, well, you see in this chapter why there was not much Snape/Hermione interaction; as far as I can tell, it may still be a little bit before there is any of a major amount. About the University…yeah, me too. Damn muses with their complex schemes! Thanks for the comments!
Eirete: Thanks for reviewing again; I guess we'll just have to see about your prediction. And yes, goodness will her hair be fried; and as you see, I did recall that she will have to have a whole new look. Thanks for your encouragement and..gosh, am I sorry about how long this took!
Ress: Thanks, hehe.
Madeleine Jete: Teehee, holidays always a good thingl I love summer break, although I have been disgustingly busy so far; have yet to spend a full seven days at home. And I am going to be so trashed tomorrow morning. *sighs, then continues answering nice person's review*. True, I am an ardent follower of many popular 'fanon' ideas, be that good or bad. I hope you didn't have *too* much snow; well, seeing as it is summer, I rather just hope that you have more sun and less rain than we've had over here…I do believe you live quite a bit a ways from me (no, not a stalker, don't worry!). Thanks for the response on the weather; the justification for its being blistering hot in Scotland was nice (hehe). Also, good luck in figuring out classes for next term; math went pretty well for the year, so thank you for the good luck.
JediHermione: ThanksJ
Deritine: Yes, well; we all get a bit behind (three months…*wince*)…although since you are under no obligation to read, whereas I have promised to write, you are fine; and as always, I love to read your reviews. Yes, I had to set my Word spellcheck to make it so that even if I spelled his name wrong, it would automatically correct it for me; a bit of a pain, but he *would* have that name, with that spelling. Er, what is a swat? A boyfriend? *author ponders, but its one in the morning and her poor little brain almost explodes…* Yeah, I would venture to say that a few things got broken with 'the Deatheater stuff' as well; her self-confidence and courage being a few of the things; but she is working on it. Thanks a lot for your comments and praise; they are truly appreciated and poured over
Janet: Dahling, we really need to meet again this week, for my sanity, if not the sake of the book. And yes, eventually/soon I will complete my corrections and go over the newet version of the road trip bit. Yes, we do need more chivalrous guys...lets hit Coventry and find some!! Yeah, I know, I'm bad at the dialogue layering, and was trying to be less complex; thanks a lot, you know I don't mind people picking over my stuff, god knows that I do it enough to yours. I will add that right now to the authors note.
Casual_Bubbles: Ok, the 'spelling mistake' that you mentioned happens, actually, not to be one; although had there been a valid one I would certainly have taken it to heart. I simply prefer the Old English spelling 'magick' as opposed to the rather more flat one, 'magic'. It's like how I spell grey, rather than gray. I will try hard to make sure that I write anyways only when it ought to be there, thank you. It does take rather a lot of time to write the chaptersJ; and, well, Hermione needs to get some 'edickation', I think, before she can do much else; I have twisted JKR's world to model it more closely on the US, where I have been taught that education is the key to everything and anything.
CatEyes: Thanks, glad you are following, and goodness knows I detest those awful 'site experiencing overload' messages that means I have to wait at least a day!
Ailene: Er..it took me a while, but I finally did it? Thanks for the encouragement, if it helps, I recall writing a bit more after I got your review, I just got…sort of…sidetracked… And, um, the cherry was quite yummy (heeheee…gee, I think I am tired…)
Tracey Claybon: Well, as promised, can't get rid of me yet! And thanks for the compliments as wellJ
Phedre no Delaunay: I can hardly chastise you for doing what I often do; rather, I am merely grateful that you have decided to review; I know it takes time, so thanks. Oh, you seem a person after my own heart; plot and correct grammar and spelling and I am probably hooked- so thank you a lot for telling me that my story is one of those; and gods above do I commiserate with you on many of the fanfiction writer's lamentable lack of skill. Then again, one thirty in the morning and I suspect I rather suck as well. Thank goodness for word autocorrect… Anyways, ooh, yes. You are the person who also liked Anne Bishop, the goddess- who has a new book coming out in October, and has contracts for several more as well…if I wasn't so freaking tired I would be jumping for joy, and hopefully you would join me. So, your opinion *grin* seems quite valid, merci beaucoup! K, that's *odd*. The French came up as correct in the English spellchecker in Word…*trails off…too tired…*
Anna P: Wow, that has to be one of the more…interesting reviews I have ever gotten. I'm not quite sure what to say, although I do thank you a lot for taking the time to write out a response to my story. I suppose we will merely have to see, though, whether any parts of your predictions come trueJ Oh, um. Ok, Edouard doesn't actually think he can sweep her off her feet; he just wants to be there in case she falls, if that makes any sense. I'm sorry you think he's dreadful, I hope I can change your mind at some point in the story. Oh, yes, the story does get rather melodramatic…although it should be going back up, starting with her decision, and continuing till the end, I hope; I think my point is that getting out of depression and difficult situations is not an easy slope; there are a lot of twists and turns in the path that cause her to stumble and fall and sometimes stop, and the story explores what makes her continue and keeps her up. And oh, yes, we all find that our lives get depressing, I hope you find more joy in your own, sometimes; there is always someone more pathetic than ourselvesJ Eh, I don't know; I rather think that Hermione can help *herself* out of this mess; after all, Severus would be just like you believe Edouard to be if he thought he could sweep in and make everything better. Its just going to take her a little bit. As stated in my AN, I simply prefer the old English spelling; magick, and hope this doesn't bother you *too* much; it ought to sooth your feelings to know that it is, in fact, grammatically correct. And remember, you can re-read reviews, where a few people have mentioned this; my response is always the same:). My muses don't mess up, they just irritate me; I am the one who words the story…um, yes, they hope for a review, indeed, thanks very much for the detailed emailJ