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Disclaimer: This is my first fanfic, I'm a simple teenager, obviously Harry Potter is not mine! If he were would I be sitting here rolling around in cash? Ooops. o.O Said too much **pushes 100$ bills under bed quickly** you didn't see a thing! **Cheeky grin** If you want to know what is mine, check out my profile. Adios. Enjoy. *Please R&R, constructive criticism please ^.^*
Many thanks to Morgan for letter her add me to her fic. Rock on.
"HOW ABOUT NO YOU CRAZY DUTCH b*stard?" lol. Enjoy!
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Chloe felt like she was falling, down, down, down, then up, it was like a muggle roller coaster, wizzing around corners at high speeds then falling at great heights. Chloe, used to this sensation, it felt a lot like flying. But here, there was nothing to hold onto, it was black, nothingness, things that looked like different coloured tubes hung all around her, they seemed so close, but they were so far away at the same time.
As she snatched at the air, there was nothing there. She leant sideways, trying to grab onto a tube, but careful not to fall. The only problem was she couldn't move easily, she felt rigid all over, her hands felt weighty and hard to raise. There was nothing else to do. She yelled. "Hello? Help!" And she stopped, suddenly and rough. Opening her eyes weakly she looked around, instantaneously adjusting to the gloom of the room. Sprawled on the ground she sat up gradually, making sure she hadn't broken any bones. She stood, looking down on herself, she felt able to move, that was a good sign. She gazed around the room in disbelief, it looked like a cell, but she felt like she knew it so well. She gasped and jumped back. There on a small bed in the corner was what looked like a miniature her and a man who looked as if he were the girl's father. The similarity between her and the younger girl was scary. She looked exactly like the photos her mother had of her when she was young. She had sleek, black hair, black as the night, but since she was young she had changed her hair tone, it was now a medium brunette shade.
The mini-Chloe quivered in her sleep, her head on her father's chest. She continued shaking for at least 20 seconds. Chloe stood there in doubt, her feet still fastened to the ground. What could she do? She walked over, cautiously; she'd try and wake the father. Upon reaching the small bed she took the chap's shoulder and shook him lightly. Chloe's eyes not leaving the girl the whole time. The man jumped under her hand and sprung awake, just as the small girl vanished, into thin air.
Chloe took a step back, staring at the space, tripping over her feet she fell onto her back. Slowly sitting up the man looked around, his eyes on the lookout, glancing around the room. "Who's there?" he said, his voice strong, yet fearful at the same time. He looked around the room and completely through her, was she a ghost? Deciding it was nothing; he lay back down, closing his eyes firmly in what appeared to be fear. It felt as if someone had hooked a fishing line behind her bellybutton it dragged her back, faster then a broom. Was this a portkey? She had never used one but the feeling that was described in books, felt pretty much the same to what Chloe was feeling right now. She felt a slight breeze of wind whip past her as she whooshed backwards; her hair was thrown around messily in the air. THUD.
"BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUZZZ" The sound of her alarm clock broke through her peaceful dreaming. Rolling over irritably she pressed the snooze button on her clock and got prepared to drift slowly back into slumber, when her alarm clock began screeching at her.
"5:30, Thursday, 29 September 2002. Wake up sleepy head, Quidditch practice." The 13 year old groaned heavily and forced her lethargic eyes open, scanning the dim room slowly, her eyes rolled over her purple desk, wardrobe, mauve carpet and glittery ceiling. Not much had changed over the years, purple had always been her favourite colour and still was. She loved her room as much as she did when she was younger, she always thought it was trendy, sure things had been added over the years but in her eyes, it was still the same.
A loud whistling came from her alarm clock; she rolled her eyes and jumped to her feet, with as much energy she could muster at the ungodly hour of the morning she had to awaken for Quidditch practice. Sweaty in her funky boxers and tank top, hair tied back in what would have been a neat ponytail but now looked like she had been through a hurricane, shambolic and tousled after the night's slumber.
Yawning slightly, the 13 year old quietly made her way to the side of her bed, where her timber blinds were situated, grasping the flimsy rod to open them, winding it in an anti-clockwise direction, letting the early morning rays of sun blind her eyes fleetingly; blinking a few times Chloe's eyes adjusted to the daylight seeping through her room like water over concrete.
Turning and making her way towards her purple wardrobe she flung a door open, revealing a Quidditch calendar pinned to the back, displaying big scripted letters, reading 'August.' Chloe grinned reaching across to her desk, picking up her wand. She turned back to the closet, tapping the 29th box on the glossy calendar, causing it to instantly flood with small, violet stars, which twinkled slowly, like they were winking at her, covering the words 'Quidditch practice', which were quickly scrawled in the what was a blank spot formerly. Stretching, she placed her wand back on her desk, covered in parchment and thick study books.
Looking back at her calendar, now 98% covered with flickering purple stars.
'Sumer is fast approaching' She thought to herself. She could feel it, hot and humid. It smelt the same, as it did, the 12 previous summers, like Frangipani's, eucalyptus leaves, and a faint hint of grass.
The teen turned and slothfully gazed at the clock above her desk. 5:38, she needed to get a move on. Twisting back to her open wardrobe she swung the other door open, revealing a large mirror. Disregarding her reflection for the moment she fingered through her school garments, halting at the glimpse of her Quidditch robes. She grabbed the iron hanger and summarily hauled it out, yanking her grey pants and grey and blue top off, trudging across the spongy mauve carpet to the en suite bathroom, sliding the door open enough to fit her slender body through and sealed it silently, remerging 4 minutes later, hair tied back in a neat pony tail, she'd shower after training. The 13 year olds face bore an enthusiastic grin, two big, black eyes and full, glossy lips, her complexion still bronzed, from the preceding summer.
Lifting the lid to the laundry hamper she discarded her pyjamas, snatching up her book bag she tossed her spell books she'd need for the day in, along with some parchment, pencil tin and notes. Placing her wand delicately in her uniform pocket. She ditched her bag on the floor, made her way over to her bed and made it hastily, grabbing her watch from the bedside table and fastening it to her wrist. She placed her aged tweety doll on her bed cover and made her way back to her closet, drawing out her Blue and silver quidditch robe and pulling it over her head, cautious not to demolish her pony tail.
Hoisting her satchel onto her shoulder Chloe walked the short distance to her door, turned the cool doorknob quietly and swung her door open, pulling it closed behind her. She crept down the stairs, one at a time, wary not to make any sound that would rouse her Mother and Grandma.
Finally reaching the bottom of the stairs she glanced at her wristwatch, 5:46. She dumped her bag on the bench at the bottom of the stairs, picking her quiddich boots up from the doorway she sat alongside her bag and hastily pulling on her socks, leaving them rolled down until she had to apply her kneepads and slipped her boots on, buckling them firmly. Rising to her feet she looped her arm threw her bag strap and placed it over her shoulder, groaning somewhat at the weight of it's contents. Taking a last glance at herself in the mirror by the entrance, she took her wand out of her pocket and pressed it onto the handle, faintly whispering the unlocking charm, she stepped over the threshold, closing the door and jumped back slightly. There, standing on her veranda was her best friend, Morgan Columbus, her silvery blonde locks, nattily drawn into a long ponytail.
"MORGAN!" Chloe whispered, clutching her chest. Morgan eyed her with intense blue eyes, grinning, Chloe had a feeling she had been standing there on purpose to shock her. "And good morning to you too, Miss Black, how are we feeling today?" She questioned. Chloe looked at her friend and broke into laugher. Quickly placing her hand over her mouth, she bit her fingers to silence her girly cackle. Spinning around she locked the door with her wand and placed it in her shoulder bag.
Making her way across the veranda and onto the lawn, she motioned for her friend to follow her, which she did speedily.
"Good Morning" Chloe replied, grinning. "I'm great, how about you?" "Fantabulous as usual!" her friend replied. "But unless we wish to spend the next century running laps around the Wollongong Quidditch field, I advise we get a move on." "ACK! Please, anything but laps, I'll beg him if I have to!" Chloe retorted, picking up her pace slightly. "uh..Chloe?" said Morgan. "Mmmm" "He's observed you plead incalculable times, as I recall." Morgan replied in an ironical tone. Chloe rolled her eyes. "Not this season.yet" she retorted. "What about the second week?" She questioned "It wasn't my fault the alarm clock was broken!" She exclaimed, boisterously. "The first week of the holidays?" Morgan asked simply. "Hey, it was the holidays!" "Last Wednesday?" she enquired, cutting Chloe off. "Hrmph!" she replied, declaring her friend had beaten her at her own game, yet again. "I rest my case." Morgan said cheerfully. A few minutes passed, both girls quick walked down the street, the sun rising, warmly behind them. They both hummed away to two entirely different tunes. They only lived a few streets from the quidditch stadium, in an all-magic village but it still took a few minutes to get there.
"How are we on time?" Chloe questioned, glancing sideways. "You've got a watch" Morgan replied, jokingly. "Oh, indeed I do" She said, gazing down at her wrist. "5:52, 8 minutes" "We'll be there early, talk about a first time for everything!" the blonde replied teasingly. They rounded the corner and sprinted down the last strip of path. The stadium stood tall infront of them. Walking up to the entrance, they paused at a ticket gateway, the one they walked through everyday. The same wizard sat there, reading the 'Sunshine gossip,' the local wizarding paper. He was tall and lanky; he had dark brunette hair and bright green eyes. He was a bubbly man, only in his early 20's. He glanced up at the young quidditch players and beamed.
"Well, if it isn't my two favourite players, 7 minutes early" he stated, looking swiftly up at his clock
"Good morning Mr Graham" The girls replied in unison. "Make your way through girls, everyone's in the breakfast hall." He lifted the chain and let them pass. "Have a good day!" He bellowed cheerfully. "You too" they chorused.
Turning the corner and walking along the pathway they paced up the stairs, in single file, their bags swinging in rhythm. Upon reaching the top of the staircase Chloe caught up with Morgan. "It's just not fair, you know," She stated, slightly out of breath. "What isn't?" Morgan questioned, slightly perplexed. "That the adults can apparate here and we have to walk!" She stated, pouting slightly. "I know, but what can we do about it?" By this time they had reached the members only section, at the very top. They chorused the password, 'Quaffle- pocking ' and crossed the entrance, into a large dining area. The room had a high ceiling and over-polished floorboards, being breakfast there was one elongated table in the middle, and doors around the outside, leading to many different places, only a small amount of which the girls knew where they lead to.
A few of the table's occupants looked up as the portrait swung open. Chloe counted the people at the table mentally; there were only 3, which meant they weren't the last ones.
"Good morning everyone" Chloe said cheerfully, grabbing Morgan's shoulder bag and skipping off to deposit them on the hooks nearby.
Skipping back she took a seat opposite Julia McKenzie, a red haired chaser and in between Morgan and her coach, George Harrison.
"Gooooood moooooorning Geoooooooorg" Chloe boomed. "Simply smashing to seeeeee you! How are you on this fine day?" She squealed, not taking a break to breathe.
"Chloe, hon, I love you very much, but it's 6am, can we bring out 'quiet Chloe' at this time?" He questioned, grinning and massaging his head.
Morgan snorted. "And when have we ever heard or seen this 'quite Chloe'"? She asked, forming quotation marks with her fingers.
"She comes out occasionally" Chloe replied simply, placing a weatbix in her bowl and filling it with skim milk.
"She's been missing so long, I think we can officially declare her dead." Morgan replied, smirking
"Dead? What, so no search party? You're just going to leave her, out in the wilderness? She could be anywhere and you're going to give up hope on finding her? I'm very disappointed in you Morgan!" Chloe turned to look at her cereal, pulverizing it with her spoon.
Digesting it slowly, she finished it and poured herself a glass of orange juice while she waited for Morgan to finish her Nutella toast.
Halfway through her meal the remaining members joined them at the table. After everyone was finished it was 6:15. George, the over-obsessed quidditch seeker jumped up and clapped his hands together once. Chloe imitated him, jumping up, clapping twice and Morgan subsequently, clapping three times. He looked down at the pair, standing beside him and raised and eyebrow. The girls mimicked him once more. He was usually good for a laugh, but obviously it was still too early.
Making their way down to the locker rooms Chloe fastened her kneepads and pulled her silver and blue striped socks up to her knees. She trotted over to her locker and pulled out her gleaming, Nimbus 2001 and carried it out onto the field, ready to begin stretching.
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Disclaimer: This is my first fanfic, I'm a simple teenager, obviously Harry Potter is not mine! If he were would I be sitting here rolling around in cash? Ooops. o.O Said too much **pushes 100$ bills under bed quickly** you didn't see a thing! **Cheeky grin** If you want to know what is mine, check out my profile. Adios. Enjoy. *Please R&R, constructive criticism please ^.^*
Many thanks to Morgan for letter her add me to her fic. Rock on.
"HOW ABOUT NO YOU CRAZY DUTCH b*stard?" lol. Enjoy!
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Chloe felt like she was falling, down, down, down, then up, it was like a muggle roller coaster, wizzing around corners at high speeds then falling at great heights. Chloe, used to this sensation, it felt a lot like flying. But here, there was nothing to hold onto, it was black, nothingness, things that looked like different coloured tubes hung all around her, they seemed so close, but they were so far away at the same time.
As she snatched at the air, there was nothing there. She leant sideways, trying to grab onto a tube, but careful not to fall. The only problem was she couldn't move easily, she felt rigid all over, her hands felt weighty and hard to raise. There was nothing else to do. She yelled. "Hello? Help!" And she stopped, suddenly and rough. Opening her eyes weakly she looked around, instantaneously adjusting to the gloom of the room. Sprawled on the ground she sat up gradually, making sure she hadn't broken any bones. She stood, looking down on herself, she felt able to move, that was a good sign. She gazed around the room in disbelief, it looked like a cell, but she felt like she knew it so well. She gasped and jumped back. There on a small bed in the corner was what looked like a miniature her and a man who looked as if he were the girl's father. The similarity between her and the younger girl was scary. She looked exactly like the photos her mother had of her when she was young. She had sleek, black hair, black as the night, but since she was young she had changed her hair tone, it was now a medium brunette shade.
The mini-Chloe quivered in her sleep, her head on her father's chest. She continued shaking for at least 20 seconds. Chloe stood there in doubt, her feet still fastened to the ground. What could she do? She walked over, cautiously; she'd try and wake the father. Upon reaching the small bed she took the chap's shoulder and shook him lightly. Chloe's eyes not leaving the girl the whole time. The man jumped under her hand and sprung awake, just as the small girl vanished, into thin air.
Chloe took a step back, staring at the space, tripping over her feet she fell onto her back. Slowly sitting up the man looked around, his eyes on the lookout, glancing around the room. "Who's there?" he said, his voice strong, yet fearful at the same time. He looked around the room and completely through her, was she a ghost? Deciding it was nothing; he lay back down, closing his eyes firmly in what appeared to be fear. It felt as if someone had hooked a fishing line behind her bellybutton it dragged her back, faster then a broom. Was this a portkey? She had never used one but the feeling that was described in books, felt pretty much the same to what Chloe was feeling right now. She felt a slight breeze of wind whip past her as she whooshed backwards; her hair was thrown around messily in the air. THUD.
"BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUZZZ" The sound of her alarm clock broke through her peaceful dreaming. Rolling over irritably she pressed the snooze button on her clock and got prepared to drift slowly back into slumber, when her alarm clock began screeching at her.
"5:30, Thursday, 29 September 2002. Wake up sleepy head, Quidditch practice." The 13 year old groaned heavily and forced her lethargic eyes open, scanning the dim room slowly, her eyes rolled over her purple desk, wardrobe, mauve carpet and glittery ceiling. Not much had changed over the years, purple had always been her favourite colour and still was. She loved her room as much as she did when she was younger, she always thought it was trendy, sure things had been added over the years but in her eyes, it was still the same.
A loud whistling came from her alarm clock; she rolled her eyes and jumped to her feet, with as much energy she could muster at the ungodly hour of the morning she had to awaken for Quidditch practice. Sweaty in her funky boxers and tank top, hair tied back in what would have been a neat ponytail but now looked like she had been through a hurricane, shambolic and tousled after the night's slumber.
Yawning slightly, the 13 year old quietly made her way to the side of her bed, where her timber blinds were situated, grasping the flimsy rod to open them, winding it in an anti-clockwise direction, letting the early morning rays of sun blind her eyes fleetingly; blinking a few times Chloe's eyes adjusted to the daylight seeping through her room like water over concrete.
Turning and making her way towards her purple wardrobe she flung a door open, revealing a Quidditch calendar pinned to the back, displaying big scripted letters, reading 'August.' Chloe grinned reaching across to her desk, picking up her wand. She turned back to the closet, tapping the 29th box on the glossy calendar, causing it to instantly flood with small, violet stars, which twinkled slowly, like they were winking at her, covering the words 'Quidditch practice', which were quickly scrawled in the what was a blank spot formerly. Stretching, she placed her wand back on her desk, covered in parchment and thick study books.
Looking back at her calendar, now 98% covered with flickering purple stars.
'Sumer is fast approaching' She thought to herself. She could feel it, hot and humid. It smelt the same, as it did, the 12 previous summers, like Frangipani's, eucalyptus leaves, and a faint hint of grass.
The teen turned and slothfully gazed at the clock above her desk. 5:38, she needed to get a move on. Twisting back to her open wardrobe she swung the other door open, revealing a large mirror. Disregarding her reflection for the moment she fingered through her school garments, halting at the glimpse of her Quidditch robes. She grabbed the iron hanger and summarily hauled it out, yanking her grey pants and grey and blue top off, trudging across the spongy mauve carpet to the en suite bathroom, sliding the door open enough to fit her slender body through and sealed it silently, remerging 4 minutes later, hair tied back in a neat pony tail, she'd shower after training. The 13 year olds face bore an enthusiastic grin, two big, black eyes and full, glossy lips, her complexion still bronzed, from the preceding summer.
Lifting the lid to the laundry hamper she discarded her pyjamas, snatching up her book bag she tossed her spell books she'd need for the day in, along with some parchment, pencil tin and notes. Placing her wand delicately in her uniform pocket. She ditched her bag on the floor, made her way over to her bed and made it hastily, grabbing her watch from the bedside table and fastening it to her wrist. She placed her aged tweety doll on her bed cover and made her way back to her closet, drawing out her Blue and silver quidditch robe and pulling it over her head, cautious not to demolish her pony tail.
Hoisting her satchel onto her shoulder Chloe walked the short distance to her door, turned the cool doorknob quietly and swung her door open, pulling it closed behind her. She crept down the stairs, one at a time, wary not to make any sound that would rouse her Mother and Grandma.
Finally reaching the bottom of the stairs she glanced at her wristwatch, 5:46. She dumped her bag on the bench at the bottom of the stairs, picking her quiddich boots up from the doorway she sat alongside her bag and hastily pulling on her socks, leaving them rolled down until she had to apply her kneepads and slipped her boots on, buckling them firmly. Rising to her feet she looped her arm threw her bag strap and placed it over her shoulder, groaning somewhat at the weight of it's contents. Taking a last glance at herself in the mirror by the entrance, she took her wand out of her pocket and pressed it onto the handle, faintly whispering the unlocking charm, she stepped over the threshold, closing the door and jumped back slightly. There, standing on her veranda was her best friend, Morgan Columbus, her silvery blonde locks, nattily drawn into a long ponytail.
"MORGAN!" Chloe whispered, clutching her chest. Morgan eyed her with intense blue eyes, grinning, Chloe had a feeling she had been standing there on purpose to shock her. "And good morning to you too, Miss Black, how are we feeling today?" She questioned. Chloe looked at her friend and broke into laugher. Quickly placing her hand over her mouth, she bit her fingers to silence her girly cackle. Spinning around she locked the door with her wand and placed it in her shoulder bag.
Making her way across the veranda and onto the lawn, she motioned for her friend to follow her, which she did speedily.
"Good Morning" Chloe replied, grinning. "I'm great, how about you?" "Fantabulous as usual!" her friend replied. "But unless we wish to spend the next century running laps around the Wollongong Quidditch field, I advise we get a move on." "ACK! Please, anything but laps, I'll beg him if I have to!" Chloe retorted, picking up her pace slightly. "uh..Chloe?" said Morgan. "Mmmm" "He's observed you plead incalculable times, as I recall." Morgan replied in an ironical tone. Chloe rolled her eyes. "Not this season.yet" she retorted. "What about the second week?" She questioned "It wasn't my fault the alarm clock was broken!" She exclaimed, boisterously. "The first week of the holidays?" Morgan asked simply. "Hey, it was the holidays!" "Last Wednesday?" she enquired, cutting Chloe off. "Hrmph!" she replied, declaring her friend had beaten her at her own game, yet again. "I rest my case." Morgan said cheerfully. A few minutes passed, both girls quick walked down the street, the sun rising, warmly behind them. They both hummed away to two entirely different tunes. They only lived a few streets from the quidditch stadium, in an all-magic village but it still took a few minutes to get there.
"How are we on time?" Chloe questioned, glancing sideways. "You've got a watch" Morgan replied, jokingly. "Oh, indeed I do" She said, gazing down at her wrist. "5:52, 8 minutes" "We'll be there early, talk about a first time for everything!" the blonde replied teasingly. They rounded the corner and sprinted down the last strip of path. The stadium stood tall infront of them. Walking up to the entrance, they paused at a ticket gateway, the one they walked through everyday. The same wizard sat there, reading the 'Sunshine gossip,' the local wizarding paper. He was tall and lanky; he had dark brunette hair and bright green eyes. He was a bubbly man, only in his early 20's. He glanced up at the young quidditch players and beamed.
"Well, if it isn't my two favourite players, 7 minutes early" he stated, looking swiftly up at his clock
"Good morning Mr Graham" The girls replied in unison. "Make your way through girls, everyone's in the breakfast hall." He lifted the chain and let them pass. "Have a good day!" He bellowed cheerfully. "You too" they chorused.
Turning the corner and walking along the pathway they paced up the stairs, in single file, their bags swinging in rhythm. Upon reaching the top of the staircase Chloe caught up with Morgan. "It's just not fair, you know," She stated, slightly out of breath. "What isn't?" Morgan questioned, slightly perplexed. "That the adults can apparate here and we have to walk!" She stated, pouting slightly. "I know, but what can we do about it?" By this time they had reached the members only section, at the very top. They chorused the password, 'Quaffle- pocking ' and crossed the entrance, into a large dining area. The room had a high ceiling and over-polished floorboards, being breakfast there was one elongated table in the middle, and doors around the outside, leading to many different places, only a small amount of which the girls knew where they lead to.
A few of the table's occupants looked up as the portrait swung open. Chloe counted the people at the table mentally; there were only 3, which meant they weren't the last ones.
"Good morning everyone" Chloe said cheerfully, grabbing Morgan's shoulder bag and skipping off to deposit them on the hooks nearby.
Skipping back she took a seat opposite Julia McKenzie, a red haired chaser and in between Morgan and her coach, George Harrison.
"Gooooood moooooorning Geoooooooorg" Chloe boomed. "Simply smashing to seeeeee you! How are you on this fine day?" She squealed, not taking a break to breathe.
"Chloe, hon, I love you very much, but it's 6am, can we bring out 'quiet Chloe' at this time?" He questioned, grinning and massaging his head.
Morgan snorted. "And when have we ever heard or seen this 'quite Chloe'"? She asked, forming quotation marks with her fingers.
"She comes out occasionally" Chloe replied simply, placing a weatbix in her bowl and filling it with skim milk.
"She's been missing so long, I think we can officially declare her dead." Morgan replied, smirking
"Dead? What, so no search party? You're just going to leave her, out in the wilderness? She could be anywhere and you're going to give up hope on finding her? I'm very disappointed in you Morgan!" Chloe turned to look at her cereal, pulverizing it with her spoon.
Digesting it slowly, she finished it and poured herself a glass of orange juice while she waited for Morgan to finish her Nutella toast.
Halfway through her meal the remaining members joined them at the table. After everyone was finished it was 6:15. George, the over-obsessed quidditch seeker jumped up and clapped his hands together once. Chloe imitated him, jumping up, clapping twice and Morgan subsequently, clapping three times. He looked down at the pair, standing beside him and raised and eyebrow. The girls mimicked him once more. He was usually good for a laugh, but obviously it was still too early.
Making their way down to the locker rooms Chloe fastened her kneepads and pulled her silver and blue striped socks up to her knees. She trotted over to her locker and pulled out her gleaming, Nimbus 2001 and carried it out onto the field, ready to begin stretching.
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