A/N: Just in
case it's hard to catch on, this chapter is 1 week after we saw Harry last.
I
dedicate this chapter to my *sniff* former math teacher, Frisch, who actually
makes math FUN! I'm just lucky my math
class next year should be right next to his.
Disclaimer: Yeah, you know that I had nothing to do with the invention of the
wonderful world of HP, but there's also a mention here of a true story. In here it says Harry's math teacher told
it, but in truth it happened to my math teacher (yep, the same one that dressed
up as deodorant for Halloween). That's
why this ch.'s dedicated to him.
Chapter 16: Dreams, Mud, and Hogwarts
"Gary? Gary! Are you okay?"
Harry
woke up in a cold sweat, finding Eric shaking him frantically. The poor boy's face was terrified.
"What
happened?" Harry asked, his head pounding.
"You-you
were screaming, just like last week," Eric said, some of the color coming back
into his face, "It sounded like someone was trying to kill you…"
Harry
smiled wanly, trying to boost Eric's spirits. "Bad dream, I guess. I get them
sometimes. Mind if I go to the bathroom
and shake it off?"
Eric
shook his head, nervously getting back into bed. Harry hurried to the bathroom, lifting his bangs as he stared
into the mirror. His scar was livid on
his forehead. With a sigh, he sat on
the toilet, thinking hard, trying to keep the dream fresh in his mind.
It
was much like the dream he had had last week. He could still remember clearly the look of terror on Karkaroff's face,
and when he squirmed in pain and then…Avada Kedavra. But this dream had been worse, much worse. There had been children, and the screams
still seemed to echo in Harry's mind. With some difficulty, he tried to remember the dream fully.
He
had been in a house, in the living room. On a couch there had been a man, Cornelius Fudge… In his lap was a little girl, who couldn't
have been any more than four. He seemed
to be telling her a story and she was listening adamantly. Next to him sat an older woman, whom Harry
could only assume to be Mrs. Fudge. In
her lap she cuddled the sleeping figure of a one-year-old boy. A young woman was curled up in an armchair
near them, a smile playing on her lips as she listened to Fudge tell the story.
Then
the door blew open and dozens of Death Eaters swarmed in. And Voldemort…Voldemort came in last. The Death Eaters seized the family and
Voldemort walked right up to Fudge.
"Still
think I haven't returned, Minister?" he asked mockingly, before hitting the man
with the Cruciatus Curse, "Now you shall be the perfect victim to let the
entire world in on my glorious return."
He
removed the curse, letting Fudge pant for his breath back. Slowly, the creature turned to the rest of
the family.
"Now
let's see," he said, seemingly pensive, "Who shall go first? Why, how about the devoted wife and innocent
grandson?"
The
old woman trembled, clutching the small boy to her chest. Before Fudge could even cry out in protest,
that putrid green light shone. The
woman dropped to the ground, the child motionless in her arms.
"And
what about this sweet little thing?" Voldemort smirked, turning to the young
girl who clutched at Fudge's pant leg.
"No,
not Carly," Fudge managed to gasp, "She hasn't done anything. It's me you want."
"Oh
yes. I want you…to suffer."
With
that, he put the young girl under the Imperius Curse and made her walk over in
front of the stairs. The young woman
was sobbing uncontrollably.
"Such
a compliant little girl," Voldemort remarked, removing the curse, "Too bad
she's your granddaughter, Fudge. Crucio!"
The
girl cried out in pain, going into convulsions on the floor. Fudge screamed for him to stop, but that
just egged Voldemort on.
"Pah-pah!"
the girl cried, "Mommy!"
This
was too much for the young woman. She
broke free of the Death Eater's grip and tackled the Dark Lord. Without a second thought, one of the Death
Eaters rushed forward and performed Avada Kedavra on the woman. Voldemort shoved her limp body off of him,
brushing himself off in disgust. The
little girl was now bawling, clutching to one of the stair rails. Voldemort turned to her, brandishing his
infamous evil smirk.
"Do
you want to be with your mommy?" he asked in a voice that could almost be taken
for tender.
The
small girl nodded, tears streaming down her face.
"Then
you shall get your wish," Voldemort said with a smile as he raised his wand.
"No!"
Fudge cried, but too late. The girl's
small body slumped over, a look of surprise on her face and tears still shining
on her cheeks.
Fudge
was reduced to nothing but a bawling heap of a man. Voldemort looked at him with nothing short of contempt.
"You
thought you were stronger than I. You
thought that even if I was back, I could never affect you. Well, Minister, your torture has only just
begun. Crucio!"
The
man screamed, and then Harry had been woken up. He suddenly realized that he was now in tears. It was that girl, and how Voldemort had
acted as if he were being kind to her. He just couldn't stand it. Rubbing his eyes dry, he headed back into the bedroom. Eric was once again asleep. Nothing could faze that kid. Harry glanced at the clock, seeing it was
five in the morning. Deciding that he
probably wouldn't be able to sleep again anyways, Harry sat down and wrote to
Sirius.
Sirius-
It's 5 a.m. and I'm
awake, so I decided to write to you. I
had a
dream. It was about Fudge and his family. To make it short, they were
killed. It's not the only dream like that I've had recently. Last week I saw
Voldemort kill Karkaroff. I only pray that these are just dreams and
not…well, not the visions I have
sometimes.
I hope your search is
going well. Maybe I won't have to spend
this
last summer with the Dursleys after
all.
School is going
well. I'm actually catching onto most
of it, though
math and chemistry have got me in
the dark. I guess those are things that
only school will teach you. I was wondering if Snape's sister, er, knows
about me. It'd be helpful to know if my attempts to keep my face hidden
from her actually have a point.
Well, good-bye and good
luck,
-Harry
He
put the letter in an envelope and ran it to the mailbox. He didn't feel like waiting to send it. With a sigh, he sat down in the living room
with his thoughts. There was nothing to
do but wait for morning.
****
"
'Gary Trotter', stay after class. I
want to talk with you," Ms. Snape said with an all-too-familiar venom in her
voice.
Harry
felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Ms. Snape had been eyeing him strangely the past few days, and he
had a bad feeling about it. For the
first week of school, she had simply regarded him as a putrid piece of
worthlessness; in other words, like the rest of her students. But now was different. She acted almost…suspicious.
When
the bell rang, Eric gave him a look of apology and headed out the door. With heavy feet, Harry walked up to Ms.
Snape's desk. She gave him a long,
piercing gaze, as if she knew she was looking for something but wasn't sure
what.
"Er…ma'am?"
Harry asked, bringing her out of her thoughts.
"Did
you know I'm a squib, 'Mr. Trotter'?" she asked suddenly.
Harry
gave a little jump of surprise but quickly got his composure back. "A-a what, Ms. Snape?"
"A
squib. You know what a squib is, of
course?"
Harry
thought hard a moment. "Ar-aren't those
the things Shakespeare used to make lightning in his plays…?"
The
teacher glared at him angrily, then with a wave of her hand said, "You're
dismissed."
"What'd
she want you for?" Eric asked when Harry came through the door.
"She
wanted to know what a squib was."
Eric
stopped short, giving him a look of disbelief.
"It's
true," Harry said, continuing on, "and I told her what it was. The dictionary definition, anyways."
After
a very entertaining math class in which Mrs. Knetch told them about the time
she messed up a suicide swan dive, and ended up doing a belly flop off a
bigger-than-Olympic-sized diving board, Eric and Harry met up with Stephen,
John, Sydney, and Paul (Eric's friends) and hopped on the bus.
"Hey,
guys. Whaddaya say we head to the park
after we drop our stuff off at home and play football? We ought to use the warm weather to our
advantage," Stephen asked as the bus started moving.
"Yeah,
sure. That's what Fridays are meant
for!" Sydney grinned.
"But,
look outside," Harry said, "If those clouds don't mean downpour, then I need
better glasses."
"That's
what gave me the idea," Stephen said, his grin growing mischievously.
"You
thinking what I think you're thinking?" Eric asked, smiling.
"You
betcha."
To
Harry's complete surprise, the five boys yelled at the same time, "MUD WARS!!!"
The
bus driver glared at them through the mirror, but they didn't care.
"What
in the heck is 'mud wars'?" Harry asked with a little laugh.
"Only
the manliest sport in existence," Paul answered, flexing his muscles to the
utter delight of a couple girls sitting behind him.
"The
short explanation is it's playing football in the rain. Our field gets pretty muddy really easy."
"So
whaddaya say, guys? The park about
four?" Stephen asked.
They
all nodded in agreement. So at four,
Harry and Eric yelled a 'see ya later' to Mrs. Riley and headed for the
park. It was already drizzling when
they reached the field and by the time the rest of the boys had arrived, a
light rain had gradually soaked them to the skin.
"You're
captains, Eric and Stephen," Paul announced.
Eric
went first, naturally picking Harry. He
also called Sydney to the team, making Stephen, Paul, and John their opponents.
"So,
we'll have a goalie, a defender/halfback, and a forward. What position do you guys want?" Eric asked.
"Um…I've
never really played football before," Harry said a little sheepishly.
His
teammates gaped at him. "You've-you've
never played?" Sydney gasped, "You've never played and you're living with
Eric? That's like impossible!"
"It's
been winter, Syd," Eric explained, "He would be an expert by now if it were
summer. But what position can he play?"
"Hurry
up, you three!" Paul called from center field, ready to start.
"Just
a sec!" Eric called back.
"You
very fast?" Sydney asked Harry.
"Er…I
can be."
"Do
you have a very strong kicking foot?"
"I
don't really know."
"Guy-eyes!"
Paul moaned again.
"This
may take a while!" Eric yelled, and then turned back to Harry, "Have you played
any sports? How's your hand-eye
coordination?"
Harry
smiled a little. "I think it's pretty
good."
"Heads!"
In
an attempt to get the other boys to hurry, Paul had kicked the ball in a
beeline straight at them. Eric and
Sydney ducked, but on instinct, Harry stuck out his hand, knocking the ball
clear into the air over their heads. Eric and Sydney looked up at him, grinning.
"Goalie,"
they agreed at the same time.
After
Eric explained that all Harry had to do was prevent the ball from getting in
the net while only using his hands within a square marked by a white line, the
game got underway. By now the rain was
coming down in sheets and Harry was having trouble seeing. However, he could see well enough to be
reduced to a giggling heap. The other
boys were slipping and sliding all over in an attempt to actually play. Eric even once kicked the ball so hard, he
flopped onto his back. He sat up
laughing, his whole backside black with mud.
While
Sydney was trying to pull Eric up without falling over also, Stephen stole the
ball. He dribbled down the field toward
Harry, determination etched in his face. Harry began to feel a little uneasy, for Stephen didn't look like he'd
be slipping anytime soon. He put his
hands up in preparation as the boy got closer. Then Stephen kicked, blasting the ball at the goal.
Harry
dove, but knew right away that it was in vain. As the ball flew by him, he landed right in a mud puddle that had formed
in the downpour. He sat up, spitting
out the murky water and wiping off the layer of mud that had found its way onto
his glasses. Stephen and his team were
cheering over his goal while Eric and Sydney slip-slided their way to help
Harry up.
"Now
that was cool, Gary," Sydney chuckled.
"I've
never seen a better belly-flop into a puddle."
"Yeah,
yeah, yeah," Harry said, pretending to be annoyed but his smile giving it away.
With
a slight glint in his eyes, he said, "You know what this means, don't you?"
"That
Eric better buckle down and actually score," Sydney suggested with a grin.
"Revenge."
With
that, Harry set off running, planning on tackling the unsuspecting
Stephen. However, when he tried to slow
down a bit as he got close to his target, he realized his shoes no longer held
any friction with the ground. Instead
of simply tackling Stephen, he slid into all three of the boys, knocking them
over like bowling pins. Sydney and Eric
hooted with laughter as the tangled mess of muddy boys tried to get up.
"Hey,
Eric!" called a voice, "Mind if we play?"
They
all turned to see two girls standing on the sidelines. The girl who spoke had her blond hair tied
back tightly in a ponytail, holding a football to her hip with a smug sort of
poise. Her companion had short black
hair pulled into two small pigtails and she wore a look as arrogant as her
friend's pose.
"Maybe
then you'd actually get something done, hm?" the blonde added, giving a grin
that seemed too big to fit her mouth.
"Er…you'd
get muddy," Eric said, seemingly not interested in playing with them.
The
girl laughed. "Surely you're not
suggested that I am afraid of wet dirt?"
"Uh,
we'll have to discuss it," he called back, motioning for the boys to huddle.
When
they finally got into a circle, Eric said bitterly, "I do not want to
play with those two."
"Me
neither," John shuddered.
"A
couple of girls want to join you in playing football in the mud, and you're thinking
about it? I must have missed something,
'cause I see no downside," Harry said, giving a laugh.
"You
don't understand," Eric sighed, "That's Kelly Marcus and Sue Johansson,
co-captains of the Lucan Landslide. They challenged our boys' team to a football game once, and, well…"
"It
wasn't pretty," Sydney grimaced.
"I
was limping for weeks," Paul moaned.
"Well
at least you didn't almost have a ball kicked up your arse," Stephen sighed.
"Since
it was a girl's foot that did it, I would have preferred that," Paul said with
a wink. Stephen shoved him over with a
disgusted look.
"Well,
you're not playing against them this time. They'll be on your team," Harry argued.
He
was eventually able to convince the boys to let the girls in on the game, and
none of them regretted it. It was
almost six when they finished, every inch of all eight of them covered in mud. Eric and Harry arrived home still kicking
the ball around.
"Eric
Riley, stop right there!" Mr. Riley cried when they opened the door, "You are not
coming in here like that. Go back
outside and hose off."
"Hose
off?! But, Dad-"
"No
buts. After you clean off a bit, then
you may come in through the kitchen and up to the bathrooms."
Muttering,
Eric headed back outside, Harry at his heals. As they washed off the mud, Harry couldn't help but think about how
pointless it seemed to be hosing off in the pouring ran.
When
Harry had gotten back inside and showered, Mrs. Riley handed him a letter from
'Jamie Trotter'. He hurried back to the
bathroom to read it, opening it with uneasy dread.
Harry-
I've a variety of good
and bad news for you, and since I believe in
'best for last', we'll start with
the bad. Those weren't just dreams you
had. Karkaroff's body was found over a week ago and as for the
Fudges… Fudge's wife, daughter, and grandchildren were found dead.
Fudge was found alive, but out of
his mind. He's now in St. Mungo's.
Harry
felt a bit numb, sensing that Fudge had probably not gone mad with the torture,
but crazy because he had seen his entire family executed. All the hatred he had felt for the man for
practically forcing him to leave Hogwarts was gone, replaced by sheer
pity. Nervously, he read on:
Something good comes of
that, though. You're warrant is now
null and void, for it was based on
Fudge alone. That doesn't mean,
however, that you are coming back to
Hogwarts. Dumbledore and I both
feel it best that you stay with the
Rileys for now. Voldemort etched a
message in the night sky along with
the Dark Mark. "Harry Potter is
next." You may not have the Ministry after you, but Voldemort is. There
have been Death Eater attacks in
Ireland, too, however, so be on your
guard.
Now for the good
news. My search is ended. It wasn't the most
pleasant sight to see, but I found
Peter. The Ministry was contacted at
once, and a judge, due to
'overwhelming evidence' that I didn't blow Peter
up, gave me my freedom. I can now stand on my own two legs (or four
legs, as the case may be) as a
freeman.
And as for little Juni,
I believe she ought to know about your past.
I'm not positive, of course, but as
long as you don't let anything slip, she
can't prove a thing.
Love from your freed
godfather,
-Sirius
Harry
felt like screaming for joy and doing laps around the equator. He was finally going to be free from the
Dursleys and live with his godfather! As soon as the thought entered his mind, however, he banished it. The last time he had thought such a thing,
it had gone horribly wrong. He had no
wish to jinx it this time.
But
something about the note caught Harry's eye. 'my own two legs (or four legs, as the case may be)'… With a jolt, he rushed into Eric's room,
grabbing his invisibility cloak from its place under the cot. From one of its pockets he pulled the
mysterious note he'd received at the beginning of the year and reread it. It suddenly became clear to him.
"The
flight of fear, then Harry Potter shall be no more," he quoted softly, "If that
doesn't mean right now, then I don't know what it means. 'The being of two and four legs shall be
freed'…well, that's just happened…Sirius is free…"
He
could feel the excitement racing through him as he tried to decipher more. " 'Until the special becomes the
average…' Well, I'm as average as I'll
get right now… 'and then converts once more, sorrow lies in learning'… That must mean Hogwarts isn't the happiest
place right now…"
He
read the rest, but decided that since it hadn't happened, he would have little
chance of figuring it out. He laid back
on his bed, pondering over all of this. More than ever, now, he wanted to find the note-maker.
****
Harry
woke up late that Saturday morning. He
was a little surprised to find Eric out of bed. Even more so since the boy had not woken him. Still in his pajamas, he headed downstairs,
all set to have lunch as his breakfast. But the sight that met him when he stepped into the kitchen banished all
thoughts of food from his mind.
Eric
was curled up on one of the kitchen chairs, hugging his knees tightly as he
stared vacantly at his untouched plate. Mrs. Riley was next to him, her arm around his shoulder as if she was trying
to comfort herself and him at the same time. Janie was sitting in the same curled position as Eric, absentmindedly
chewing on her hair. Every now and then
she'd look at Eric with heartbreaking eyes, and then turn back to her thoughts.
"What
happened?" Harry asked with a sinking feeling.
"He's
gone…" Eric whispered, tears coming to his expressionless eyes.
Mrs.
Riley gave him another comforting hug and then walked over to Harry, handing
him the newspaper.
"It's
about Eric's friend, Stephen," she whispered, pointing at an article, "We got a
telephone call this morning. He…he
passed away last night…"
Harry
looked at her in surprise. It was the
same boy he had just played football with the day before…the same boy he had
tackled for scoring a goal on him… Mrs.
Riley patted his shoulder with a sad smile, heading back to comfort Eric. Harry walked into the living room, reading
the article as he went:
ANOTHER MYSTERIOUS KILLING
Last night, 14-year-old Stephen
Miller became the fourth victim in what
police have dubbed the Petrified Murders, writes Hanson O'Malley,
Special
Correspondent. When the body of Annette Warner was found in
her Dublin apartment frozen stiff
with a look of terror on her face, it was
thought to be a freak accident. When on Tuesday the double murder of
Timothy and Josephine Fellows was
discovered in Clondalkin with the
same look of terror, police feared
that they had some sort of ingenious
psychopath on their hands. Last night, their suspicions seemed
confirmed
by the death of young Stephen Miller
in Lucan, Ireland. Police have yet to
find motive or means in all three of
the killings, but it is clear that these
are no accidents.
"Two such deaths might
be considered coincidence, but
four…when there's four, you can bet
there's someone behind it," says a
Ryan Smite, criminologist, "The
killer is clearly someone thirsting for
power, and someone with a clever
mind. They have hidden their tracks
well."
Mr. Smite also reminded
this reporter about similar deaths
occurring over fifteen years ago.
"The same stiff bodies,
the same signs of torture, the same wide
eyes, the same looks of terror," he
said, a little bitterly, "Dozens of these
murders were found all those years
ago, and it looks as though the killer
has returned."
What has brought this
killer back? Why had he left in the
first
place? Can he be stopped? These
are questions that everyone is asking,
but no one knows the answer to. For now, all of Ireland waits in fear that
this silent killer shall strike
again.
Harry looked back toward the
kitchen, his throat muscles tight. All
of Ireland was wondering who the killer was, but Harry knew. Voldemort. Or at least his Death Eaters. With a bit of a jolt, he remembered the note. 'BEWARE THE DEATH EATERS' APPROACH…' And now they were right here in Lucan.
'I'm the one bringing the Death
Eaters here,' he thought, watching Eric finally break down and sob into his
mother's shoulder, 'and if I stay much longer, they might just find me. And the Rileys…'
A lump coming to his throat, he knew
right then what he would have to do.
****
Dear Rileys,
There are no words to describe the
joy you have brought into my life these
past few weeks. For the first time in my life, I felt
normal. However, I
knew it could not last. I beg you not to search after me, for it
would be in
vain. I have to leave. It's
simply something I must do. I have
brought
enough pain upon your family, and
have no wish to put you in danger. I
would, more than anything else, like
to tell you about the real me and my
real life, but I feel that it is not
my place. Perhaps Arabella will tell
you,
some day.
Mr. and Mrs. Riley, I
can't thank you enough. I only wish
that I
had been privileged enough to be
given the chance to have parents like
you.
Eric, rooming with you
has been fun. Keep playing
football.
You're an outstanding athlete. Don't be shy with the girls, especially
Kelly. She likes you, I can tell.
Janie, stay the same
sweet girl you are. You are a wonderful
person, so never change yourself for
others.
Good-bye.
Love always,
-"Gary"
Harry
reluctantly placed the letter in its envelope and sat it gently on his
pillow. With a last look at Eric, he
set off out the door with nothing but his invisibility cloak, wand, billfold,
and the clothes on his back. He hurried
down the street, for he had already called a taxi and instructed it to meet him
at the corner.
"Where
to, kiddo?" the smiling driver asked.
"Dublin."
"Okay."
Their
drive took them past the school. Harry
looked at it, feeling knots writhe in his stomach. He was going to miss all of it, even Ms. Snape. She was, after all, kinder than her
brother. Slightly. Then they turned a corner, and the school
was gone. With a sigh, Harry settled in
his seat. Yet with all the sadness
racing through his heart, he felt a smile climb to his lips. After all, he was going back, and he knew
what awaited him…
"All
alone, are ya?" the ferryman asked Harry, trying to strike up a conversation
with his only passenger so early in the morning.
"Yep. I'm traveling by myself."
"Awful
lonely way of doing it. So, you headed
to Holyhead for a vacation or sumthin'?"
"No,
I'm actually going to take a train from Holyhead to London."
"Whew,
that's a long way! Wouldn'ta been
easier to fly?"
"Probably."
"Then
why didn't ya?"
Harry
smiled slightly. "I don't really know
myself."
The
man's laughed echoed over the water. "I
like you, boy. Remind me of my own son,
though he's grown up quite a bit more 'n you."
When
they got to Holyhead, Harry bid the man good-bye and headed straight for the
train station. As he bought a ticket,
he felt thankful that Sirius had given him more money than he should have. He'd need it. It was getting onto evening when Harry arrived in London. He stayed the night at a muggle hotel, set
to catch the earliest train to Hogsmeade in the morning.
Night
had fallen once more by the time the train pulled up into Hogsmeade
station. Harry was thankful for this,
for it meant fewer people would notice when he disappeared underneath his
cloak. Before he went under it,
however, he noticed a sign in a shop window. It had quite a few red and pink hearts on it and read: Don't forget Valentine's Day! Only a box of chocolates stands between you
and a night on the couch.
With
a bit of a smile, Harry realized that it was in fact February 14th. It seemed strangely fitting, though he
wasn't exactly sure why. When no one
was looking, he slipped under the cloak and headed for the Shrieking Shack.
As
Harry came out from the Whomping Willow and spotted Hogwarts, a great joy swept
over him. He still missed the Rileys
sorely, yet somehow he felt this was right. It was as if he had left a part of him at Hogwarts and was now going to
be whole once more.
Each
step grew stronger, more determined, as he got closer to the castle. All the windows shone brightly in the
darkness, inviting him in. Then he
spotted a figure on a bench and came to a slow stop. It was Azar, and Harry had never seen her look so beautiful…nor
so sad. He hardly dared to breathe for
fear that she was just an illusion and would disappear with the slightest
wind. How could he even approach such a
breathtaking creature?
Suddenly,
she shifted, looking at the night. "Where are you, Harry?" she asked in a voice so wonderful, yet so
melancholy that he had to answer.
"Right
here," he said breathlessly, walking into the light from the windows.
She
looked up, surprise and disbelief flooding her face. They stayed in silence a moment, and Harry knew he was whole
again. He was back.
A/N: Don't
you think Lucan is the coolest name? I'm seriously considering naming one of my future kids that. Or maybe my dog. *lol*
Hey,
well there's the answer to many of your guy's questions. It IS the real Harry! Funny thing, it never crossed my mind that
it could be a fraud until you people suggested it. That's an awesome idea, but I decided long ago (never to walk in
anyone's shadow! (sorry, one of my fav. songs there)) to have this scene. I had originally planned it for Easter, but
R, H, & A demanded that I bring Harry back sooner. ^-^
Whew, that was a long chapter. And I finished it @ 2 a.m.!!! Boy, I'm tired.
Well, thanks so much to my wonderful, fabulous, too-cool-for-words reviewers!
Jona: I love ickle Ronnikins! The poor kid just needs to control his temper sometimes. ^-^ And, yep, you're right about Azar. Thanks!
Sweets: He's not much of a rule-breaker, but he's too noble for his own good. ^-^ Thanks!
Berkeley Halperin: Expect more chapters that end w/o warning, for I should be getting to the interesting stuff soon. ^-^ Thanks!
Moon Warrior: I got it up before Saturday! After you said that, I made it my goal. So what if it's 2:30 am, I'm getting it up before Saturday! ^-^ Ah, I love to torture people. In the good way, of course. ^-^
1: A-bee-k-bee.
Katrina Skyfrost: My math teacher (Frisch) was too nice to us! I'm gonna have to go back to a normal math teacher next year. *cry* We could always get him off on a story. ^-^ Thanks. And I figure if you guys take the time to read and review my stuff, I should at least thank you. I love you guys! ^-^
Naralina: Yeah, as if. Your stuff is much better than mine, Allison, and you know it! And we'll be finding about more about Azar…when? I'm not sure. *g*
Abbey: Thanks!
Me: Thanks! I don't mind you not reviewing the other chapters, as long you review one and give my your opinion. I'm glad you like it.
Dilandra: Hehe…infinite possibilities… I'm kinda feeling bad that I didn't make it a fraud Harry. So many people wondered about that. ^-^ Thanks!
***StarliteStarbrite***: Don't worry, everything will show itself. With time. ^-^
Kaesa Aurelia Secunda: Oh, I always care about reviews! The thing w/ finished stories is you can't thank those that review them after you put up the last chapter… I found 'Azar' when scanning through my Spanish-English dictionary. It means 'chance; fate'. *sigh* Okay, I'll keep the R/Hr down to minimum. Well, I'll try at least. The romance writer in me just pops out once in a while, though. ^-^ And Draco…that's to come.
Kelly: Thanks! Yeah, the song. ^-^ Just came to me and it was late enough that I put it in.
Bon: Wow, thanks! I love reviews like this. *swells with pride* Harry's back for a # of reasons which'll come out next ch. ^-^ Again, thanks!
Jewels: I hope this came out soon enough. Thanks!
~*Dumbledore's True Love*~: Well, this ch. should answer all your questions. Except for if he's here to stay…mwa-ha-ha…
Swim Angel: Thanks!
Selene110: I'll be sure to get more up…soon, hopefully. ^-^
Minerva: Thanks! I just see Ron singing and I have to laugh. ^-^
Nallen Riddle: It's Harry! Of course, you knew that by now but…oh well. Thanks!
Herm: Thanks! I hope I hurried enough.
xXHermioneXx: Thanks! Of course, I still am up to the same point, but this chapter explains a bit. ^-^
Raven of Death: Wow, thanks! I think Draco isn't as evil as he seems, though he needs to resolve some issues. I won't go deeper, for that's to come. ^-^
Jeanne: Thanks!
Wow, now it's 3 am. I really need to get to bed. So many reviews…Thanks guys!!!!!!!
Well, toodles and beteo!
-Ady
