Oooh, a nice, long author's note for you! Don't you all just feel so special? Thank you so much to the people who either told that flamer to lay off or told me to not worry about him/her. It means a lot to me to know that you all care enough to defend me when someone comes along and does that. I think it was kind of funny, though, so I decided to add a few little comments in. This is mainly for the flamer if they come back, so scroll down if you just want to read the chapter, 'kay?
IT SUCKS!!!
Okay, how many times do I have to tell people? I don't suck; I blow. This means that all my works blow too. Okay? Remember that next time.
HOW COULD YOU WRITE SUCH A STUPID FIC!
Well it is actually rather simple to comprehend. I was at home because I was sick and I got bored and tired of waiting for the fifth book. Introduce a piece of paper and a pencil to the scene and you have how it came about.
ALL THOSE GOD DAMN PEOPLE ARE FUCKERS BECAUSE THEY LIKE THIS!!!
Hey! You can bash on me however much you want but if you start picking on the people who support me you will find yourself hanging from an electrical wire by your guts, with me standing under you holding a stopwatch and laughing my head off. I don't care what you say or do to me but when you start picking on people who have nothing to do with this fic other than read it you're going to far. I noticed that it said you had read all the way to chapter twenty-eight in the review, by the way. Does that make you one, too? Why did you read that far if you didn't like it? Or do you just have a problem with admitting that someone else might just have a little bit more talent than you? I'm not in the top one percent at English in the state, bucko. I know that I have more talent than the vast majority of people and I won't just lie down and die just because you flamed me.
JEEZ, JUST GIVE UP ALREADY!!!!!
I think I covered that in the other comment…yep. Not going to go away, dearie, so just deal with it. Okay? Thanks so much…
YOU GOT NO FUCKIN' TALENT!!!
Already covered as well. Let us see. This would be why I'm also going to the Writer's Masterclasses, and currently writing a novella for the Somerset Novella Competition, entering in the Australian Women's Weekly short story competition (prize of $20 000 people! Wow if I win, ne?) and have been working at grade eleven and twelve level in my English classes for the past two years. Right. Sure.
I HAVE MORE TALENT THAN YOU!!!
Which is why you're talking in run-on sentences, seem to have gotten your caps lock key stuck and use multiple exclamations all the time. Can't you come up with anything better than 'A ______ could do better than you'? I feel sorry if you cannot, and you have my pity. You can decide whether that is a good thing or a bad one.
A FUCKIN' DOG CAN DO A BETTER JOB THAN YOU!!!
*points up to where you left your 'name' and 'email address'. Like that, right? That's better, isn't it? I can do that if you want, but I'm sure a lot of other people wouldn't want to see a chapter with just gibberish in it. How about you give me your real email address next time, and I can send you them separately?
A PENCIL COULD DO BETTER THAN YOU!!!
Nope. A pencil is an inanimate object. I needed to pick up the pencil and move it across the page to make the words in my head come out. It would be a lot simpler if you came across a smart pencil who happens to write a really good story and you could take credit for it, but that's not the way it works. *hands you my pencil* If you're so certain it could do better than me though, why don't you give it a try? I'm sure you must have some paper lying around somewhere, so if you just stick it on the paper and sit down and wait maybe something will happen.
OK, IF THIS ISN'T MORE PATHETIC ENOUGH THAN A FUCKIN' ROMANCE NOVEL, IT'S WORSE!!!
I think we can safely say that a romance novel is more pathetic, actually. At least I have a go at integrating some plot into this, instead of letting it be completely PWP. This would also be why I use a little thing called 'foreshadowing' in it. Sorry if it's too subtle for you to pick up, dear, but it is there.
OK, I'LL BE DONE FOR NOW, BUT IF IT IS NOT GONE BY TOMORROW, I'LL BE BACK!!!!!
Why would I care? It just means I have another flame to join this one on my wall. I was rather disappointed when I got my first flame, you know, just as I'm sure you're disappointed you didn't receive that wonderful position. I truly would have liked you to, though. 'this fic sucks I cannot stand it don't read' isn't that good, I must admit. Dear Mr. Squishy Fishy, you have been usurped…*pulls down the 'squishy fishy' flame and hangs this one up* There. Ah, such a lovely glow it creates, too. Will keep the room lit quite nicely until Dad finally gets around to putting in a new light bulb. This fic ain't going down, bucko, so just deal. Flames or not, I don't care. I write this fic for me, not for the people who read it. Selfish, yes, but I wouldn't be able to finish it if I wrote for them. I do plan on finishing it, by the way. Hey…*consults with Olwin, Melvin and Claudia (don't ask)* Would this mean that I have an anti-fan? It does, doesn't it? I have an anti-fan! Whoo! Go me! You know you're going up in the realms of fanfiction when you get your own, real-life anti-fan! *huggles the anti-fan* Thank you, thank you, thank you! Thank you so much for hating this fic so much that you feel you have to flame it every day! Thank you!
Feel free to reply, dear anti-fan. I would sincerely love to continue this conversation.
Disclaimer- I don't own the goods. I simply stole them for my own gain. I'm sure the JK-copier-police-thingies will find me soon, so don't worry. You ain't missing out on anything.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Harry watched the fumes from the potion he was brewing curl up into the air, changing colours slowly. Snape had them brewing some kind of medical potion for Madam Pompfrey, supposedly for the epidemic of influenza she was expecting during the cold months. Even Neville had managed to create the potion without any mishaps, and they were all now just waiting for the liquid to reach boiling point. Snape himself had been called away to retrieve Professor Flitwick from the ceiling again, after the small man had been hit with a badly-aimed floating spell. The class was surprisingly silent for not having a teacher there to watch their every move, and Harry was half-expecting someone to snap and pull a silly trick in the absence of their teacher.
'Most probably just as Professor Snape walks back in the door,' Harry thought wryly.
It didn't happen, however, and Professor Snape returned just in time to tell them what their homework task was for the night and to tell them exactly what would happen if it wasn't completed.
***
Harry pushed the door closed with his foot, shifting the books that he had balanced precariously in his arms onto the desk. He had surprisingly little homework for the day, and he wanted to get it over with before he went to meet McGonagall and the other professors that night. A slight noise behind him made him turn to see a small, familiar figure huddled near the fire. He gaped, and it turned to face him. Echolalia had a defiant expression on her face, and looked like she had been crying earlier that day.
"What are you doing here?" Harry gasped finally, moving to sit beside her. She hunched up further, as if she thought he was going to order her to leave.
"Not going," She muttered.
"But…why? Don't you want to go with the other faeries?"
Echolalia shrugged and uncurled slightly. "Rather stay with you."
Harry blinked back the tears that threatened to fall and smiled. "Thank you, Echolalia." He picked the books up off the desk and moved back to sit beside her in front of the fire. They sat in comfortable silence as Harry completed his homework and finished a ten-page essay on the similarities and differences between two floating spells.
"I have to go and meet some of the professors now, 'Lalia. Do you want to come?" Harry asked as he put the last of his books away. He had talked to Sebastian already, and he had wanted to come. She nodded, and Harry smiled.
"Great. I'll just go and get Sebastian and my cloak, and then we'll leave." Harry opened his trunk and began to search for his invisibility cloak. It had been a long time since he had used it, and it had slid to the bottom of the trunk. He wrapped it around himself and went to pick up Sebastian, who was exploring the passages underneath the room.
"Sebastian? We're leaving now," Harry called, holding a lantern out in front of him. Sebastian came crawling up and wrapped himself around Harry's neck.
"I think you're getting to big to be carried any more," Harry joked. Sebastian hadn't been out much because of the cold and had been eating large amounts as well.
"Not my fault if you go to school in a place where I can't go out during winter," Sebastian replied.
Harry nodded in agreement. "At least Hogwarts doesn't use heaters, though. The muggle school I went to used these old ones that were more likely not to work than to produce any heat."
"Yes, I suppose that would be worse."
***
"Hello?" Harry called, opening the door to the Transfiguration classroom. Professor McGonagall, Figg and Flitwick all turned and smiled at Harry, ushering him in. Professor Snape simply scowled at him.
"Good evening, Harry," Professor Flitwick murmured. "I trust you are ready for your lessons?"
Harry nodded.
"Good. The first big project you will be attempting is the creation of a pensieve. We chose this because it will use all of our subjects, and will allow us to assess your ability at combining different types of magic as well."
Harry nodded. 'A pensieve? Could I really do that?' He thought.
"We won't be attempting that for a few weeks yet, though. We would like to find out exactly how much control you have over these surges of yours and what they can do. Do you understand?"
Harry nodded again. "Yes Sir."
"Good. Professor McGonagall will be the first to test you, then Professor Figg, myself, and Professor Snape will then test you in their own fields."
"Your wand please, Harry?" Professor McGonagall said, holding out her hand. Harry pulled it out of his sleeve and gave it to her.
"I want you to transfigurate this stool into a cat. Do you think you can do that?"
Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know. Whenever I use the surges I don't really plan what's going to happen, it just does. I'm not even sure I could do that without waiting for a surge to come along."
McGonagall nodded, frowning slightly. "Just try, Harry."
Harry nodded. "Okay, I'll try." He turned his attention to the small stool in front of him, and began to concentrate on it. He felt slightly stupid, but he knew it would just be childish to say that he couldn't do it without trying.
"Come on, come on…" He murmured, narrowing his eyes. The stool stubbornly remained a stool, and Harry sighed.
'If you don't turn into a cat right now I'll break all your legs of and use them as the bludger bats!' He thought, imagining the legs of the stool breaking off and hitting a bludger around the classroom.
"I think you're doing it!" Flitwick said suddenly, pointing at the stool. It had begun to shudder and jump. Suddenly the legs fell off of it, the base turning into a ball which the legs proceeded to knock around the classroom.
"I don't believe that was what I asked for, Harry," Professor McGonagall said, ducking as one of the legs missed the seat-turned-ball and it flew past her head.
"I'm sorry," Harry replied.
"How did you get it to do this, then?" Flitwick asked as one of the bats prodded him in the back.
"I don't know! I was trying to get it to turn into a cat but it wouldn't so I threatened to break off its legs and use them as the bludger bats in the next game and it happened!"
"Well tell them to turn back into a stool then, Harry," Professor Figg said, catching hold of one of the bats and hitting away the ball as it headed towards her.
"Turn back into a stool, now!" Harry yelled at it. Nothing happened.
"Well that didn't work," Snape said dryly.
"I think we all realised that, Severus," McGonagall retorted.
'This is a disaster," Harry thought. 'The stool was only supposed to turn into a cat!' He imagined it working properly, the stool turning into a black cat with green eyes and one white-tipped ear.
The bats and ball halted in mid-air, and shuddered slightly. Then they fell to the floor in a pile, which turned into a black cat with a white-tipped ear and yellowish-green eyes.
A/N – You didn't all really believe that I would just get rid of Echolalia, did you? No…I'm too attached to her. *grins* Plus she's important for the story.
