Truths, Secrets, and Lies
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize (i.e. not Lamya) belongs to Joanne Kathleen Rowling. Considering I'm broke at the moment, one can assume that I'm getting doodly-squat from this (except, of course, the pleasure of writing it).
Summary: Harry discovers a paradox that could quite possibly upturn his life.
Chapter 6
The room began to spin, and its occupants were blurred to the point they looked like one, conjoined, being. Abruptly, the spinning stopped, but a new scene met the eyes of Lamya. She was sitting in the midst of an open field. Her vision was slightly obscured by the veil of wispy mist that clung to the earth and rocks, not daring to venture into the unknown darkness of the night.
Lamya blinked a few times to clear her mind. Quickly, she reviewed what had happened. One moment she had been sitting in Divination, completely encompassed by the heavily perfumed air. Vaguely she remembered staring blankly into a crystal ball…
At this moment, Lamya's thoughts were completely interrupted. A throng of shrouded figures filed into the clearing and created a ring around a large rock Lamya hadn't noticed. Then, to her utter surprise, the rock shuddered enlarged. With a mixture of relief and trepidation, Lamya realized the rock was a man; and obviously a highly respected man at that – the group collectively bowed their heads in reverence.
Stealthily, and with exercised caution, Lamya used the mist to conceal her movements as she moved closer to the group.
"…You all know why you're here," came the raspy, high-pitched voice of the ringleader. Despite the cloak of darkness, his eyes flashed an eerie red. "My recruitments at Hogwarts are few and far between. Because of Dumbledore," he spat, "such practices have become increasingly dangerous."
In the distance, Lamya heard the distant howl of a lone wolf in agony. Because of the distraction, Lamya tripped and fell in a depression concealed by the shadows.
"Oh!" She exclaimed, unable to contain her surprise. Once she landed, Lamya cowered in the shadows, anticipating her certain capture. However, when she remained unharmed and undisturbed, Lamya ventured a glance towards the group of people listening intently to the tall, slim man speaking fervently in the center.
Unable to concentrate on his words, Lamya concentrated instead on her dilemma. Her eyes swung to the heavens and paused on the serene, silver moon. Her eyes reflected the perfect circle, and she wondered aloud, "'Ow am I to get back to 'Ogwarts?"
Once again, however, Lamya was distracted by the figures as they marched past her. Silently, she reprimanded herself for being foolish enough to speak out loud. However, it appeared that she had once again been lucky enough to not be heard.
Immediately after being swept by relief, a peculiar thought occurred to Lamya. What if no one can hear me or see me? Brow furrowed in concentration, she stood from her hiding spot, and approached the line of gradually disappearing figures. One figure stopped, quickly stifled a lilting laugh, and knelt to the ground. Even from a distance, Lamya saw her sparkling eyes, and watched the young woman push her hood to rest at the nape of her neck, and shake her mane of fiery hair behind her shoulders. In turn, a figure with broader shoulders and a taller frame paused, and turned to the young woman.
"C'mon! We have to get back to the school. Don't you know we're not supposed to be out here?" He asked.
Once again, her tinkling laugh filled the air in such away that the very mist seemed to pulsate, and clear from the area. "Of course I know what we're supposed to do and not to do. I'm a prefect!"
The young man mumbled something inaudible.
Grudgingly, the red-haired young woman conceded, "Ah, I suppose you're right." The pair continued towards the glow of what Lamya decided could only be Hogwarts.
A moment of intense silence undulated through the darkness, when the young man asked the question that they had both been debating to ask:
"Are you really going to go through with it? The initiation?"
The young woman gave no indication she had even heard the query. Suddenly she answered, "I don't know, Pierre. I don't suppose there's any going back now, though…"
What may have been spoken next, Lamya didn't hear. She had stopped dead – her heart racing as she absorbed the conversation. As soon as she stopped, the sickening feeling of the world rapidly revolving started once again. Lamya could only squeeze her eyes shut against the motion, and allow herself to be removed from this time and place.
Not wishing to open her eyes to the scenario that may lie before her, Lamya noted her slack body sitting awkwardly in a comfortable chair. Without opening her eyes, feel a dozen sets of eyes locked on her motionless body. She realized her classmates were waiting with bated breath for her to make any sign of life.
The sharp clicking of heels could be heard faintly below the room. With a nearly imperceptible groan of resistance, Lamya heard the trapdoor that led to Professor Trelawney's room swing open.
With more than a hint of alacrity, Madam Pomfrey bustled to Lamya, and checked her pulse. Deciding that she should no longer uphold her façade of unconsciousness, Lamya slowly opened her eyes. The scene she beheld was indescribable. Her classmates wore expressions upon their faces ranging from skepticism, mild curiosity, to blatant worry. Professor Trelawney, in her own right, stood wringing her hands as she stood in front of Lamya's classmates. She wore a look upon her face that surprised Lamya. It was a mixture of longing and jealousy.
Madam Pomfrey tutted as she withdrew her hand from Lamya's wrist. "Miss Meda, I'm afraid you must come with me to the hospital wing. Misters Potter and Weasley, will you kindly escort Miss Meda to the hospital wing? I must speak forthwith with the headmaster. I will meet you in the hospital wing shortly," she finished curtly, already striding to the trapdoor.
Once they had reached the stillness of the corridors that led away from the North Tower, Ron tentatively asked, "What happened, Lamya?"
Lamya contemplated her answer carefully before responding. "Somehow, I was transported away from the room… I spun for the longest time, and finally stopped in a field in total darkness." She then retold Harry and Ron, with as many details she could remember – much of what she had seen and heard had been forgotten somehow – the events she witnessed.
Though Harry remained reverently silent, Ron spoke, "That – that sounds like…" He swallowed hard, but found he couldn't continue.
"Voldemort," Harry finished simply and quietly. Ron winced, but nodded in agreement.
Horror contorted Lamya's face. "But 'ow?" She implored."
"I dunno," Harry said, looking meaningfully into the worried countenance of Lamya. "My scar didn't hurt – that usually happens when Voldemort – "
"Will you just say 'You-Know-Who'?" Ron asked through clenched teeth.
" – Is near."
At this point in the conversation, the trio had reached the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey, clad in her sanitarily white clothes, intercepted Lamya at the door.
"I never would have imagined such dawdling from you, Mister Potter. You, of all people, should understand the seriousness of her situation," Madam Pomfrey chastised.
Both Harry and Ron chanced disbelieving glances at Lamya, who had had no trouble walking the distance from the North Tower to the hospital wing.
"You need bed rest," Madam Pomfrey confirmed while simultaneously ushering the befuddled Lamya to a bed. She handed Lamya a pair of pajamas and pulled the curtains that surrounded Lamya's bed shut with a snap.
Lamya's slightly muffled voice could be heard behind the curtain, "But why, Madam Pomfrey? I think I'm fine – I don't even know what happened to me, but I know I'm not injured…"
"I like to think I'm more of an expert on such matters than you are, Miss Meda," Madam Pomfrey said brusquely. "And you two," she said, turning menacingly to Harry and Ron, "I would suggest you two go to Gryffindor tower before I decide to take away house points. Your friend is in dire need of rest."
With the last sentence, Lamya had poked her head out between the curtains, and was vigorously shaking her head to disagree with the statement. Harry and Ron, however, felt it would be in their best interests to abide Madam Pomfrey's 'suggestion,' and decided to concentrate their efforts on finding Hermione, with hopes that she would have answers to their many questions.
Harry and Ron finally found their bushy-haired friend sitting in the Great Hall thoughtfully eating an apple and reading her Arithmancy book.
"Hermione," Harry called to get her attention. Harry was vaguely aware that Ginny was intently watching Harry intending to disguise her gaze by giving the impression that she was reading her Daily Prophet (which she was holding upside-down). "Hermione, listen to what happened during Divination…" He began as he recounted Lamya's tale.
However, Hermione remained skeptical. "Are you sure she didn't just fall asleep?"
"How can you say that, Hermione?" Ron broke in, his face slack in disbelief.
Harry chose to ignore Ron's comment by saying, "If you had just seen her, Hermione… Her eyes were completely open until just before she snapped out of it – I was with her the whole time!"
Ginny made a slight choking sound and said quietly to Ron, who had turned to his sister with a look of concern upon his face, "Sorry – wasn't ready for that swallow." Ginny then excused herself as Ron nodded, and returned to Harry and Hermione's conversation.
At Harry's last comment, Hermione cocked her head to one side, "Really? And you said she went completely limp?" Harry nodded to affirm her question. "Harry, you're not going to believe this, but I think we have a Seer in Hogwarts."
"Really? Who?" Ron asked. Forthwith, however, he flushed as he noticed his friends' two pairs of eyes swing incredulously in his direction. "Oh yeah… sorry," he mumbled.
*~*~*
The next morning found Hermione studying in the library for Charms. Carefully, she sifted through the immense volumes lining the shelves. Finally finding one with which she was satisfied, Hermione headed back to her usual table. However, when she neared her table, she saw someone already sitting there amid a pile of books. "Ginny?" Hermione whispered to herself.
"No, I'm afraid not," Lamya said, her upturned face showing that her luminous eyes were looking at Hermione.
Abashedly, Hermione apologized, "I'm sorry, Lamya… I'm so accustomed to seeing Ginny's red hair that it's always a bit of a surprise to see you."
Lamya's laugh sounded like bells, and she continued, "Don't mention it, 'Ermione. I was razzur startled myself to see Ginny when I was walking behind 'er."
Changing the subject, Hermione asked innocently, "What are you reading?" However, immediately after asking the question, she realized there were no books on the table. Her lips parted slightly as she tried to picture how she had seen Lamya when she approached the table.
Lamya's smile faltered slightly, almost guiltily, but she answered, "Well, I actually came 'ere to ask you something…"
"How'd you know I'd be here?"
"Oh… 'Arry told me."
"All right, what did you need?" Hermione asked.
"Er – well I was wondering if you could 'elp me with – er – Potions homework?"
"But, Lamya, you're a year ahead of me. I suppose I could try to help you, though, I suppose."
"Well, never mind. I'll try to get 'elp from someone in my year. I suppose I should be going," Lamya said, and quickly excused herself.
Once Lamya had left, Hermione bent to the floor to pick up a book that was lying beneath the table where Lamya had been sitting. The dusty book was entitled, A Study of the Dark Arts. It bore a stamp that was upon every book in the Restricted Section. Hermione cast a long look at the now-empty door, wondering silently if Lamya had pilfered the book. Until she knew more, Hermione vowed to keep this information to herself.
*~*~*
"Hagrid!" Harry, Hermione, and Ron exclaimed in unison upon seeing their friend standing outside his hut, accompanied by his boarhound, Fang. Their haggard-looking friend gave them a somewhat exhausted smile in welcome.
"Well, there yeh are! I was hopin' yeh wouldn't have changed classes after meeting the temporary teacher Professor Dumbledore foun'." Hagrid scoffed.
Timidly, Hermione ventured, "Well, it's true that Professor Flappable wasn't as adequate as a Care of Magical Creatures teacher as you, but surely no one dropped your class."
"Unless Malfoy did!" Ron exclaimed happily. "That wouldn't be so bad."
Despite himself, Hagrid smiled. "I wouldn' really want anyone to drop this class…"
There was a small pause before Harry broke the silence by asking quietly, "Where have you been, Hagrid? We've missed you since school started."
For the briefest of moments, Hagrid's face contorted with misery as the apparent memories of the past months came flooding back to him. However, he put on a brave face, and forced a smile upon his face when he answered, "Yeh know… Olympe and me were gettin' Giants to join Dumbledore, an' all."
In the back of his mind, Harry felt that there was something Hagrid was refraining from telling the three fifteen-year-olds standing before him. However, as he didn't want to dwell upon matters and taint the jovial meeting, Harry didn't press the matter.
The trio spent their Saturday afternoon in the company of Hagrid and Fang (careful to stay away from Hagrid's infamous rock cakes). While Hermione read the book she had brought with her, Harry, Ron, and Hagrid discussed Quidditch – which Professor Dumbledore had promised to reinstate.
"When do Quidditch practices start, Harry?" Hagrid asked as he gulped tea from his gigantic mug.
"I dunno," Harry replied, stirring his own tea doubtfully – he had found a feather floating in it earlier, and was a bit hesitant to drink any more. "I reckon they'll have to start soon, though. Since Wood's gone, our Quidditch team is going to need a new Keeper and captain. Do you know how we'll find the new player?" Harry asked, directing his question to either Ron or Hagrid.
Ron shrugged to show he wasn't sure, but Hagrid answered verbally, "There will have to be tryouts fer the Keeper, and there will be a vote amongst yerselves fer captain."
After a few moments more of conversation, Hermione piped up, saying, "Ron, Harry, we should probably be getting back to the castle. It's getting rather late." It was only at this moment that Harry and Ron noticed the steadily darkening sky.
"I'll walk with yeh to the Great Hall. I've got to talk to Professor Dumbledore," Hagrid offered. Harry, Ron, and Hermione accepted, and followed Hagrid out of his hut and made their way across the lengthy lawn. The sky was tinged with red and purple and the stars were only beginning to twinkle and blink amid the velvety sky. Harry walked quickly to catch up with Hagrid, who was striding towards the castle. Hermione and Ron, however, purposefully slowed their pace.
To Harry's surprise, Hagrid chuckled. "Wondered when those two would finally notice each other."
Harry quickly looked back towards his friends and saw them hastily pull their clasped hands apart. Upon being discovered, Ron and Hermione walked quickly and guiltily towards Hagrid and Harry. Harry remained silent about the matter when he was joined with his two friends.
The rest of the journey to the castle passed uneventfully, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione said goodbye to Hagrid once they reached the Great Hall. Harry, Ron, and Hermione joined their fellow Gryffindors at their house table while Hagrid walked solemnly to the teachers' table, where they exchanged words with darkened expressions. The rumbling of voices in the Great Hall prevented Harry from deciphering their words, but he could tell by Professor Dumbledore's progressively falling face that the discussion was not a pleasant one. At once, the headmaster's piercing gaze befell upon Harry's face. Their eyes locked for the briefest of moments, but it was enough time that Harry could read his blue eyes. Hagrid was telling Professor Dumbledore something that directly concerned Harry. Harry's short-lived idea to demand the truth from either Dumbledore or Hagrid was decimated when Hagrid's booming footfalls announced that he was moving to his seat at the teachers' table, and Albus Dumbledore gently cleared his throat to silence the room.
"Students," he began, beaming at the room, "I'm pleased to welcome the two remaining teachers who have been absent thus far into the session. Firstly is our Care of Magical Creatures professor, Rubeus Hagrid." He paused to allow for the raucous applause that was particularly loud at the Gryffindor table. Hagrid, Harry was pleased to see, was blushing happily behind his beard. "Finally," he said, eyes twinkling, "I'm sure you've all noticed and lamented the absence of a Defense Against the Dark Arts class. I'm pleased to announce our newest appointment to our staff, Mrs. Arabella Figg."
Not for the first time in the past two months, Harry's jaw nearly dropped to the floor.
Ron and Hermione clapped politely with most of the other students. Draco Malfoy, however, felt the need to call out, "A woman! How are we supposed to learn the much needed – " several Slytherins snickered " – defense against the Dark Arts if we have some incompetent witch teaching?"
Mrs. Figg's usually kind eyes flashed with a newfound malice in Draco's direction. However, in all other appearances, she merely ignored the statement, and took her seat between Professors McGonagall and Flitwick.
Once more, the low rumble of conversation rolled throughout the Great Hall, but, apparently, Professor Dumbledore had not finished his announcements, for he continued, "On the topic of Quidditch – " a deathly stillness fell across the room " – I have decided that, for the time being, Quidditch will be allowed. For any teams who have left Hogwarts, it will be up to the remaining team members to hold team tryouts. Practices may begin at any time, team captains need to sign up for a time slot with Madam Hooch."
A collective roar shattered the silence of the Great Hall.
Fred and George were motioning frantically in Harry's direction by the time the headmaster had stopped speaking. "Harry!" Fred began as Harry walked over to the diabolic duo. George continued where Fred's thought left off, "We've got to have tryouts as soon as possible! You've got no idea how long we've been waiting to stomp Slytherin again…" The twins gave each other mischievous smiles.
"Anyway," Fred continued, "We were thinking that we'd hold tryouts next Friday. What do you think?"
A bit perplexed, Harry answered, "Well, that sounds fine to me, but what do I have to do with anything. Am I going to have to tryout?"
George gave Fred a horrified look before slapping him roughly on the shoulder, "You stupid prat! No, Harry – we wanted you to help us judge. Alicia, Angelina, and Katie will be there too."
Embarrassed, Harry answered, "Sure. What time?"
The twins looked at each other for half a moment before answering in unison, "Twelve o'clock."
"Okay then, I'll be there."
The twins walked away and joined Lee Jordan, Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson, and Katie Bell who were sitting by themselves at the end of a table, no doubt devising some act that would cause Professor McGonagall to give them each four hours' worth of detention.
Harry walked back to where Ron and Hermione were sitting, and told them about the upcoming tryouts. "What do you reckon, Ron – are you going to try out?"
A bashful smile crossed Ron's face, "Well, I had thought about it…"
*~*~*
The rest of the weekend passed uneventfully, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione – along with most of the other Gryffindors – were eagerly anticipating their upcoming Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
"Ah! We'll have Professor Figg on Monday," Hermione had exclaimed when she was reviewing her schedule Sunday night. "For once we won't have to wait to meet the new teacher."
Harry hadn't told Ron and Hermione that Mrs. – now Professor – Figg had been his babysitter for most of his life.
"Well, I, for one, am going to bed early so I'll be ready for Defense Against the Dark Arts tomorrow," Hermione stated as she gathered her pile of books to carry to her dormitory.
"Hermione," Ron muttered in disbelief as he and Harry continued their game of Exploding Snap.
After nearly an hour, the common room began to empty, and Harry and Ron decided to follow suit, and go to bed.
As was becoming usual, disturbing dreams plagued Harry. He would awaken in a cold sweat only to remember bits of his dreams. Tonight, he remembered only that there had been vague-looking figures partaking in a mysterious ceremony involving a central being that seemed to be leading the affair. Harry was reminded strongly of Voldemort's rebirth.
More than a little rattled, Harry walked to his window to look across the grounds. He was more than a little startled to see a darkened figure run across the lawn towards the Forbidden Forest. Harry blinked his eyes a few times to ensure he was not dreaming, but when he again scanned the grounds, he saw no evidence that a human had been out there in hours. Presuming he had been imagining things, Harry dipped a rag in his bowl of water he kept by the window, and wiped his face with the dampened rag. He shivered when the frigid surface touched his skin.
Not wishing to go to sleep – considering he was now wide awake – and flooded with an overwhelming urge to use his father's invisibility cloak, Harry silently slid from the fifth years' dormitory and through the now-empty Gryffindor common room. With exercised care, he pushed open the Fat Lady's portrait so as not to wake her and suffer her wrath.
It was at this point that Harry questioned his decision to leave the security of Gryffindor Tower and wander the corridors of Hogwarts aimlessly. Something, however, practically prodded him in the back to continue his quest.
Harry allowed himself to be led by his feet. Feeling sure there was someone or something that was whispering directions in his ear, Harry listened intently for any hint of a sound. He was discouraged, however, when he heard only the soft plodding of his own feet upon the stone.
After nearly ten minutes of walking, and being accompanied by the growing certainly that he was completely lost, Harry finally found himself at a dead end.
At this moment, Harry was amazed to see a shadow, or a glimmer, partially vaporize before his eyes. The glimmer uttered something in a language unfamiliar to Harry, and he was shocked to see the bricks pull themselves apart to reveal a passageway so long, Harry could barely see the pulsing light at the end. He cast an uncertain glance behind him before plunging into its depths.
His each footstep echoed eerily as Harry walked slowly down the corridor until he neared the end of the corridor, when he heard voices.
"…But he needs to know, Albus!"
"Arabella, you know that, typically, I'm the first to tell Harry everything I feel he needs to know. But, 'Bella, you should know that this would shatter everything he knows. When Hagrid was telling me what he discovered from the Giantess, Borzor, Harry looked directly at me, as though he knew we were discussing him," Professor Dumbledore said evenly, but firmly.
Skeptically, Mrs. Figg spoke once again, "How can he be sure that Borzor was telling the truth?"
"Borzor was right in Voldemort's inner-circle, as far as Giants went. However, she, like Severus, fully redeemed herself. When Lily and James were killed, Borzor was on Voldemort's tail before she was stopped – and nearly killed – by Aurors. As far as I'm concerned, her testimony has all the validity necessary."
By this time, Harry had entered the cavernous room in which Professors Dumbledore and Figg had been speaking. However, despite his curiosity, Harry was backed into a wall near one of the many torches lighting the room. He listened intently to each and every word, waiting for a hint of what they were speaking.
"Perhaps we should settle this matter later. I've got classes tomorrow," Mrs. Figg said wearily.
"To teach, Professor Figg," the headmaster said, eyes twinkling.
Mrs. Figg broke into a happy smile, "I'll never get used to that, Albus. Thank you for this chance. I won't tell Harry anything until you give me permission."
"You're most welcome, m'dear. I appreciate your cooperation. There is a time and a place for anything."
With those final words, the two professors exited the room, and Professor Dumbledore extinguished the torches as he left.
"Lumos," Harry muttered to his wand. However, this action was unnecessary because when Mrs. Figg and Professor Dumbledore left the room, Harry's glimmer returned, illuminating the room with a pacifying green color.
Harry forfeited himself to the glimmer, and followed it away from the room. Though, this time, Harry paid attention to where he was being led and wasn't surprised to find himself standing before the portrait of the Fat Lady. He removed his invisibility cloak, and woke the Fat Lady just enough that he could give her the password. Just as he was pulling the portrait closed with a snap, he heard her emit a loud snore. Stealthily, Harry walked through the common room; he barely considered what he was doing when he picked up a book of Ron's with the word 'Weasley' embossed on the cover. Deciding he'd wake Ron in the morning to give him his book – not to mention tell him about the conversation he overheard – Harry went to his dormitory, and sat a moment on his bed merely pondering the events of the night.
Suddenly, Harry had a thought. He reached into his trunk and pulled out a piece of paper.
"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he recited quietly as he tapped the parchment with his wand. Carefully scripted words and pictures magically appeared on the bit of parchment. After giving the 'Marauder's Map' a quick look, an amused look appeared on his face. "I've found a passageway the Marauders didn't even manage to find."
With that final statement, Harry truly began to comprehend everything that had happened. He barely managed to utter, "Mischief managed," before falling onto his bed in complete exhaustion.
To be continued…
A/N: For those of you who are frustratingly confused about not knowing about "glimmers," please refrain from chewing me out ;) I shall get into that later. Everything that happened concerning glimmers in this chapter was completely new to Harry as well. Don't worry – in that aspect, at least, I'm not such a poor writer! Also, there's a little something in this chapter that I'm wondering whether anyone will notice. I'll stop there, though. Don't you hate it when people are vague?
'Thank you' to:
Be forewarned – I'm in a very 'thank you'-ish mood.
Firstly, to WhetherRose, Hollie, and T.H: I *love* you three! You are leaving the *best* reviews. And, also, thanks for reading my sister's story. *Supposedly* she's writing a new chapter. And, also *supposedly*, it's longer than 400 words, heh… Thank you, thank you, thank you!
WhetherRose: I appreciate your comments (and your banter!) so much. I absolutely love reading your reviews. And you needn't worry about me being mad about you not leaving a review – I completely understand forgetting to leave a review. When you wrote about fan fiction helping your English grades, I will completely agree with you. I'm taking the ACT next Saturday, and when I took the prep test, I only missed two. Although, as much as I'd like to help you with your English grades, I like hearing I didn't have any painfully obvious grammatical errors even more :). As for Ginny's diary, you'll just have to wait to see what happens (muah hahaha! I'm so evil). Also, I'm so happy you're back to writing fan fiction (*cheers and encourages everyone else to do the same*)! Finally (after this, I swear I'll shut my mouth), I'm so happy you liked Crossroads – I fell in love with it instantly. As of yet, I haven't found a L/J fiction that quite compares to it. You're lucky – Emmyjean just updated it with a new chapter. I had to wait a whole month for this newest chapter. But for the past few days I've been feeling warm and content inside… Also, if you're a Harry/Ginny shipper (and I think you are…) they write the best H/G stories. I find myself going to Casca and Emmyjeans' stories again and again. They also write hilarious parodies…
Hollie: I loved reading your comments. They were so much fun! Not to mention quite flattering ;). I'm so impressed you found out the meaning of Lamya's name. After this chapter, does it *sort of* make sense? Also, I finished reading your story – I'm so happy you didn't wait until November to grace this website with your presence! I love your story. Thanks again!
T.H: Your comments were also immensely amusing to read – I loved the expression you used when writing your review (particularly when you read that Lamya was in Slytherin, haha). Also, thanks for the corrections (-to Rose- I guess I didn't write the perfect chapter *sigh*). Oh, and I'm not neglecting The Master's Mirror *smiles proudly*. Have you seen all the reviews I've left lately (well, I'm sure you have…)? I've been a review-writing machine. In fact, I'm going to read another chapter after I post this. I'm happy you've not added about six chapters lately – it makes me feel like I'm getting somewhere ;). Honestly, though, it's a fabulous story, and I know I'm going to be begging for more once I *do* complete the chapters posted and I have to wait for the next one…
Babyphatcat13: Thanks for all the support you've given me – it's very uplifting!
Also, Thanks To: Bonita Knows All, Lauren Graham, Sara Minks, (as I'm going through the list, I feel like thanking everyone mentioned above again!), Lauren, Oceansun, and Vying Quill. Thanks so much!
The Last A/N: I wanted to apologize to anyone who read through those lengthy 'thanks,' and was bored stiff, but if you read my reviews you'd realize why I felt I should commend everyone! Also, if there is a weekend that I (dare I say) don't get a chapter posted, it's because I'm indulging myself in my current obsession – Les Miserables (I'm listening to the CD right now). I'm about to start Victor Hugo's novel (yep, all 1400 pages of it), and I may write a fanfic about it someday… I already have a story halfway formed in my mind for Fantine, Eponine, or even Javert... For anyone who is familiar with the story, I think you will agree with me that Eponine and Marius remind me of Ginny and Harry… Well, except for the whole "dying thing." But take the phrase, "I know this is no place for me, still I would rather be with you." *Le sigh* now that's initiative. And anyone who's heard "On My Own." Ah! It's just heart wrenching, and it's exactly what I imagine Ginny sings when she's going to sleep. Yeah, I'm sure you all wanted to know that.