Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.

a/n after I posted the flashback to the last chapter, I suddenly changed my mind yet again! Ignore the last flashback to James' orphanage time and substitute this journal entry instead. I'm sorry, so far, James hasn't shown any Harry-like qualities. The more you read, the more different he seems most likely, but I really want to establish his character before PoM hits the plot. That was what hindered it in the last version. So I'm cramming everything within the first five chapters, and by the time PoM starts moving, James, hopefully, will already seem like a real character to you. Please bear with me!

warning: language


The Persistence of Memory
By neutral


interlude - introspection



*St. MaryAnn's, June 17th , two weeks prior to the beginning of the story*

James raked his fingers roughly through his hair in frustration, and fixed the makeshift tent his blankets made over the bed.

"… I told you to…"

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Would you just stop bring those girls in the dorms, Eric? They're…"

A crash of glass against wooden floor.

"Dammit, that was my…"

The windows rattled as a door slammed shut.

"Oy! There are people trying to concentrate here!" Will yelled somewhere by the bathrooms.

"… oh, you asshole…!!"

James slammed his fist against the bed with in strangled groan. Drawing a deep breath, James drew out the crumbling book nested neatly under his pillow and carefully opened its pages. He pulled out a pen and leaned back to thoughtfully muse at its blank pages. Posing his hand over a blank sheet, he tentatively began to write.



Will insisted that I should write an autobiography, or at least something in my journal so it appears that I am at least somewhat sane, instead a raging homicidal freak or a big no-life dork (I quote: "What's with all these death and destruction musings?!" *sigh* Will, you idiot, if you want to say it outright, 'I saw your journal on the bed and peeked,' find some more subtle way to say it please. Then I wouldn't have tried to throw socks at your head). So I'm going to add these pages into the journal (this is stupid. Is there anyone whose going to read this other than myself? Will, if you're reading this, or anyone else for that matter, go away!) and rant about my oh so exciting life.


My name is James (I feel like a idiot. Oh yes, hi to myself too!). My birth date is February 29th, but I'm not sure if that's the exact day I was born. I choose that day from a dusty calendar after one of Will's offhanded remarks that being born on leap year seemed interesting. I filled in that area on my own blank file for kicks. Of course, it wasn't until quite later, when it was already too late, that I realized having a birthday every four years was not exciting at all.


I am fifteen years old (again, that's a bit uncertain), and I live in a rusty steel bed that sits on musty floor boards that are attached to a brick building that bears the sign St. MaryAnn's Orphanage.


I am currently writing in a vomit green notebook with Padclaw the orange crab on my head (Will thinks it flattens my hair, but I think it just makes me look taller. Ha! Eat that, Will! I will be taller than you one day, even if I have to wear those hippie shoes to get there!).


I have a one word name with no surname. I have messy hair, emphasis on messy, and green eyes (and I do mean green, not those grayish blue eyes that look green only when you wear green. Will always said my eyes looked like someone speared two frogs and shoved them up my sockets. Doesn't that just sound so flattering? *cringe*).


I am not short, only vertically challenged. Either that, my backpack is too heavy and it's stunting my growth. If it's not that, then it's because everyone else is too tall and I'm the only one normal.


The things I hate most about myself -- since I really don't want to sound like an egotistical bastard -- prepare for a really long list. I hate my brain, but I also love it at the same time because it keeps me alive. I hate my right arm, I hate my ribs, I hate my red and white blood cells, but I also hate to admit they're necessary so I can't discard them and buy new ones -- I'd love to if I could. There are about fifty-seven more things, but since my ink is running low, I'll skip the rest.


*August 19th*


His leg hurt.

James sank his weight against the musty wall, biting his lip hard as fought to regain his balance. Against the windows that lined the hall, a steady platter of rain drummed. James dug his nails into his knee, swallowing a gasp of pain as a wave of agony shot from the flesh, where the crack of the bone recently mended.

The doctors had warned this would happen. The icy weather and moist air was like skeletal claw that dragged through his broken bones. His ribs stung in his chest, his right arm was a mass of needles, and his leg throbbed as if on fire. James held his breath, sinking to the creaking, wooden floor that reeked of sweaty feet, and hugged his knees to his chest in an attempt to keep warm.

His limbs were still trembling. It had been a week since he left the wheelchair, and now James suddenly longed for the support. He had hated the impairment and the sympathetic glances of bystanders before, but it was suddenly welcoming as he remembered the soft cushions that insulated him. The floor boards stubbornly ate into his back.

Indistinct mumblings. He could hear the advisor, laughing with the small ground of children in the room below.

James sighed, wearily closing his eyes. It was nice to have peace after a while, despite the red hot brand pressed against his joints. It was nice to listen to the quiet conversations of others, rather than to deal with them himself. Third week at the orphanage, and he was already weary.

"... read together, or else you'll never learn. Begin: One, two, three. Father, father... Alex, you're not reading! Let's begin again..."

It was nice to finally be free of his student guide, to have the time to himself. Not that he disliked Will, but Will disliked him. Will seemed to dislike everyone in general, dining alone, reading alone, and so easily provoked that there was a five meter radius of empty space around him everywhere he went. And with Will asigned to him as a guide, it seemed that he fell into the isolation along with him, with the children around him examining him with wary eyes. Those glances bothered him for some unexplainable reason, leaving a lingering unease that gave James an insuppressible urge to get away.

It was nice to get away.

"... father, where are you going Angela, are you laughing? I am trying to teach you to read. Begin at the first line again."

Perhaps it was wrong to want such isolation. Everyone else had friends. But around these nameless, faceless people, James wasn't sure if he belonged. They were kind to him, but the way they stared at him with those scrutinizing eyes, James couldn't help but feel that they were judging him somehow. James wasn't sure how to interact. He wasn't sure if he wanted to. They were like the people at the hospital: empty.

"The night was dark, no father was there."

No, they weren't exactly like the people at the hospital. There, he was the only abandoned child out of all the children there. Every day, those children would see their families, bringing flowers bringing gifts, happy. He would be alone. But here, they were all abandoned children. James knew he should feel relieved, but it only made him more desperate. He didn't want to be at the orphanage. He wanted to be somewhere warm, friendly, welcoming. A place where he belonged.

"The mire was deep, and the child did weep... Alex, stop it! Put that down!"

He wanted someone to comfort him. James felt a twinge of shame at admitting it to himself, but something within him craved for comfort. He felt so lost, out of place, as if the entire world was moving around him and he was trapped in a dark and empty room forgotten. James was desperate for any reassurance, but going to his advisor with fourteen other children pestering her seemed wrong. James grinded his fingers against the joint of his knee, swallowing the gasp of pain that rose in his throat.

"... and away the vapour flew."




I'd like to say that I'm confident, I'm brave, I'm strong, but I'm not. I'm just a hypocrite with nothing to back up my facade. I'm afraid of many things, and I'm not nearly as idealistic as Will thinks I am. When I get into a fistfight, all my ideals go up in flames, and then I become probably the direst fighter who has ever graced these orphanage halls. I mean, who saw a boy defend himself in a fight by grabbing a handful of sand, throwing it at the opponent's eyes, then kicking him when he's down? But I don't want to lose. I really don't want to lose.


I hate a lot of other things too. I hate fire, but I like pumpkins. I hate sticks, I like trees (and don't as me how that works because I don't know either). I hate dogs, I like rats, but I made those observations on dissection table during anatomy class, so its probably inversely related to reality.


*January 22*


Will raised an eyebrow when James stumbled into the room, half running to the communal bathroom. He didn't even pause to shut the door behind him. There was the sound of the faucet being turned on full force, followed by someone stuffing his head in the sink. Concerned, Will set aside the yearbook, whose pictures he was carefully and selectively defacing, and reluctantly left his place in front of the stuttering heater.

"The hell, James, what are you…?" Will swallowed the rest of his words when James lifted his head, dark hair dripping from tap water. Still in his winter jacket, which hung like a sack over James' thin frame, he looked vaguely like a stick with hair. His eyes was completely hidden by his bangs, water running down his face and neck in streams. There was a ghastly paleness about his features that was unnatural.

Sighing, Will rummaged through the disorganized room for a towel. Finding one moderately dry, he handed it to his friend.

"Are you down with something again?" Will grumbled petulantly.

Although his tone was exasperated, he was truly worried. James got sick often, and every time he did, he was ill for weeks. His immune system was slow to recover after five week hospitalization, and living in a orphanage in the winter with a eighty other children left him almost constantly ill.

"Damnit, Will, the way you say it makes me sound like an invalid," James muttered, equally frustrated. The pounding headache mixed with his pride made him unusually irritable.

"Well, excuse me! I was just asking," Will snapped, folding his arms crossly.

James paused at his tone, giving his friend an apologetic look. "Sorry, I'm in a bad mood today. Plus, I think I just flunked my semester final for anatomy."

"And now you're ill," Will finished. He rolled his eyes skyward, sighing dramatically. "Oh, you flunked, bo ho ho. You have a ninety-eight percent in that class, James!"

"No! It's just that I have this headache," James said quickly, voice muffled as he dried his hair with the towel. His arm froze abruptly, and he sniffed at the grey sheet. "Urg… this… who used this thing last?"

"Don't be so picky!" Will snatched the towel from James head, throwing it haphazardly into a pile. He shuffled around for another, but when that failed, handed James a shirt instead. "Another headache? Did you try to remember something?"

"No, I… I don't know!!" James sighed. "We had to dissect an animal and it all went downhill from there." Pushing past Will, he made a beeline to his bed and flopped, head first, unceremoniously into the pillow. The thick coat that hung like a sack over James seemed to inflate over the bed, and with an annoyed sigh, he shrugged himself out of it and edged closer to the heater.

"I never knew you were that moralistic," Will observed thoughtfully.

James gave a muffled groan.

"Why did you take the class in the first place anyway?"

"It was either that or sparring, everything else was full," James rubbed his forehead in an attempt to relieve the ache. "What other choices did I have? Besides, the class was actually pretty interesting."

"You have to take a physical education class," Will pointed out, frowning. "They require it -- think it's good for us and all that shit."

"Thank god they think chess is physical education…" James muttered under his breath. "Otherwise, I'd die."

"You dug yourself into this hole," Will retorted, poking James on the head pointedly. It was his attempt at humor to lighten the mood, despite the accusing tone. "You choose to take anatomy. You could have very well chosen a bullshit class like social improvement."

"I don't understand!!" James sighed, jerking his head up and banging it repeatedly against the pillow. "What went wrong? I never had any trouble before! Not with the frog, rat, rabbit, or…"

"Oh yeah, I remember now," Will sat up, tapping his fingers in a decidedly unsettling manner. "I heard you went a bit overzealous with the rat, skinned it or something to that affect. What did you have to gore this time?"

James lifted his head, pulling the glasses from his face and rubbing his eyes harshly. "A dog," he grumbled, but it came out like a croak.

Will shrugged. "That's not too different from a rabbit…"

"Well, no, but it was this big, fluffy thing, and the liquid they kept it in bleached its eyes to this really pale grey color…" James trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut as if keeping the headache at bay. "There weren't many of us in that class to begin with; there were about five students in a group and they all expected me to do everything. We had to map the chest cavity or something. I went to make the incision, I started getting these flashes and… oh crap…"

"Suddenly get a bit of a conscience?" Will offered.

James groaned again. "No… a killer migraine…"




It's not the most gratifying thing for a rat to be told that a person likes him because he likes chopping him up. Dogs are hard to chop up though, and I swear they're glaring at me accusingly when I try. Oh geeze, that just sounded wrong. Animal Activists out there, I am sorry!


I want to plant a big willow tree outside the window.


I want birds to wear disposable and biodegradable diapers so they won't poop on our heads.


I want to be friends with people with red or bushy hair. Don't ask me why.


I want the controls to the brain to be on a remote control, so I could filter, rewind, and record my lost memories, and maybe erase a couple I don't want. But we can't have everything.


I want my cheap, battered text books to be complete for once, so I won't go into a test worrying about missing pages that had fallen out and panicking. You can only live at the library for so long before the librarian kicks you out, and it would be helpful if those study references were actually reliable.


I want Will to throw away his foolish pride one day and learn to apologize. Not to me, but to Eric, whom he nearly killed (I don't care what your excuse is, Will, but you left him drunk in an alleyway! You were lucky nothing serious came of it, but one day, that pure blind luck wouldn't last for you, and you'll fall hard. Think before you act for once!).


I should probably talk about Will, since he is an unavoidable topic in this (blah) life. Will is my friend, my co-conspirator, my partner in crime. Together, we are exponentially impish. Once, we even got a teacher sacked, but that's a whole other story (he deserved it, greasy git! Physical punishment is strictly prohibited, what was he thinking? And dammit, that hurt). Will wreaks havoc every where he goes, and although I usually try to stay out of the way, I seem to be a magnet of some sort for those annoying little buggers.


And so, together, we both wreak more havoc. The only difference between the two of us is, I do things secretly whereas Will walks right up to people to pounds their faces in. Somehow, with a friend like Will, I still managed to maintain a reputation of a goody-two-shoes at school. No one ever catches me or even suspects me when a tub of honey and feathers suddenly rain out of the sky over my most hated teacher *evil cackle*. That made me sound really cruel, didn't it? Oops!


*June 9th*


"It's called, 'maintaining the status quo,'" Will explained, mocking a squeaky high voice of his computer applications professor. He pulled off his gloves, shooting a worried glance at his friend sitting behind him as he hung the wet clothes above the heater to dry. "Listen, James, he does that all the time…"

"But it isn't fair! It just isn't," James nearly shouted, slamming his fist against the bed. He sank into a chair in his moist coat, too preoccupied to change into dry apparels. It was one of the few times James found his temper close to snapping, but the times he did, he was explosive. "I spent a week preparing for the test. All my answers were correct, and he purposely marked them wrong! I checked them in the book and confronted him, and you know what he tells me? 'You're going to spent the rest of your life selling donuts anyway, so why bother?' That fucking son of a bitch…"

Will sighed as James continued to splutter, spilling some of the direst vocabulary he picked up at the orphanage.

"James, it's maintaining the status quo," Will whispered, dropping his scarf on the desk with a sigh. "They expect the rich kids to be at the top of the class. If they're not, their lovely mothers or fathers would pay the professor a visit and make them the top of their class. They expect the orphans to be shivering, scheming little devils. So what if you didn't fall in the stereotype. So what if you did well in school. They brand you anyway. But god help you if you were smarter than the rich kids," Will fell silent from his breathless ranting, expression darkening in bitterness. "He's afraid of you, James. You're smart, hardworking, motivated… everything those rich, spoiled brats aren't. But you know what? When it all comes down to it, they're rich, you're poor, you're the one whose going to be screwed."

"Thank you, Will. You're being very helpful," James grumbled through clenched teeth, burying his face in his hands.

"Well, it happens all the time!" Will snapped, aggravated as his friend turned his frustrations on him.

"But it isn't fair!" James broke in angrily, voice muffled in his hands.

"It isn't suppose to be fair," Will muttered, distractedly scratching at his battered desk with his nail. He drew a deep breath, slamming his fist on it in exasperation. "James, you're too naïve. You might as well..."

"No. I know what you're going to say, and no! You are not going to beat up Professor McKay, Will," James replied automatically, glaring at his friend. "I remember the last time you asked me that question and Eric ended up with a broken arm. No, Will, you will be in so much trouble…"

"So what? Its part of the stereotype," Will muttered offhandedly, but frowning nevertheless. "He should happy. Besides, McKay deserves it…"

James fell silent, leaning back in his chair to stare unseeingly at the white washed ceiling. He seemed quiet and resigned, but Will noticed the flexing muscles in his jaw as he gritted his teeth. Suddenly, James jerked to his feet and began digging frantically through his books.

"James, what the hell's gotten into you?" Will sharply asked, noting his friend's gleeful expression in alarm.

"Paying my debts," James grumbled under his breath. He drew out a familiar battered notebook from under his bed and lifted it triumphantly. "I always pay all my debts."




I don't prank, usually. I think pranking is a sort of cruel and unusual punishment for those who don't deserve it. Some people go too far, playing tricks on those who seem different, quiet, or detached, but those people are people with the least self confidence and that sort of embarrassment is like a solid blow . Even if they aren't shy, there is still no valid excuse for publicly humiliating another. It's just Professor McKay who really rubs me the wrong way (yes! He got sacked! Ha!).


I'm going off topic. Sorry about that. Back onto the subject of Will. He is the volatile bomb, my worst confident (I'm sorry, Will, but seriously, if you ever become a psychologist, please give me your address so that I can avoid you?), and my closest and most trust friend.


Will and I get along about as wonderfully as oil and water. Placed in a bottle, you can't tell us apart, and yet we don't mix. If I were to categorize us, Will would definitely be oil, bursting into flames at the smallest spark. His courage is very humbling; he flung himself head first into a fight against four people armed with sticks once, and he won. But Will also does the most ridiculous things (even worse that the prior event) that makes me just want to pound his head against the wall. But I suppose that's the way he must live, creating his own world in his own mind by his eight year old self ever since his uncle left him.


I was going to adopt Will's surname as my own, just to cut short some of the legal issues of having only a one word name (two syllables if you really stretch it. I should emigrate to China. 'Ni hao, my name is Jam Es' *bow* wait, the Chinese doesn't bow, the Japanese do. Oh crud, nevermind), but Will threatened that he would have my hide or any other Lestrange's hide if I did. Considering that you could never be sure whether Will was teasing or serious, I decided to play it safe.


Thus, I am James, not James Lestrange.


His name is not the best kind among skewed-minded teens, but its bloody fascinating; I've always wanted an odd name like that just for personal amusement. But watch, I'll turn out to have a name like White or something politically incorrect like that. Who knows who my parents really are.


*August 19th*


It hurt like hell.

James huddled under the roof where the shingles hung over the steps, hugging his legs against his chest in an attempt to keep warm. The water splattered at his feet, sending a spray of rain water that was rapidly soaking his clothes. His mended bones was throbbing more than ever, and James felt as if someone was ramming small hammers over every inch of his arm and leg.

But the air, laden with dew, was so refreshing. James drew a deep breath and coughed violently as his ribs protested.

"You idiot!"

James startled, spinning around in shock but stopped midway as a fire shot up his side.

"What's up with you?" the voice continued, the anger and exasperation almost tangible. "You really are suicidal, aren't you? Why are you sitting in the middle outside?"

"I'm not…" James voice drifted when he noticed the raggedness of his voice. He glanced away, silently hoping Will would leave. He was irritated, with the weather, with himself; he wanted to grab a large rock and fling it at someone just to vent some of that bubbling frustration that boiled at the surface of his mind. A rustle of fabric sent James' hopes crashing; Will stepped briskly through the back doors of the orphanage, settling himself on the stairs. James felt the light brush of a coat against his arm, but it was on his right side where his blind spot stretched. James kept his gaze firmly fixed at his feet.

"Seriously though, what's really up with you?" Will asked, tone softer this time.

"It was stifling in there," James whispered. His ribs flared in pain at his attempt to speak, and James clutched his side with a trembling hand.

Will snorted. "Your intelligence is astounding, James. Perhaps your brain is more empty than we thought. Just open a window for Christ sake."

"Why did she read that poem?" James quietly asked, thoughts drifting past Will's sarcastic remark. He chewed the corner of his lip distractedly. "Those words… they're hardly appropriate for those children."

Will didn't respond for a long moment. James half expected that he would stand up and leave, but as the minute stretched on, Will was motionless. James could barely hear him breathe.

"Is that what's bothering you?" Will asked finally.

"What?"

"You're afraid that you were abandoned, aren't you?" Will continued, tenor rising with a rumbling fury. James could feel his eyes on him, boring into the back of his head.

That accusation caught James completely by surprise, and he lifted his head to stare at Will questioningly. "I don't see how that connects…"

"Jesus, James, get off it!" Will snapped, slamming his fist shrilly against the moist cement. "You're fourteen years old! You can take care of yourself!"

"Will, I'm not afraid of that," James said, but the tremor in his voice betrayed his insecurities completely.

Will took no notice of his distressed denial, the fury in his demeanor escalating. His features were taut with unsuppressed anger, the rage flashing like hot coals behind his eyes. "Why should you care if they abandoned you or not? Why should you care whether your parents were druggies, rapists, murderers, lawyers, or anything at all? That's not important. The important thing is that you're alive, you're you, and you're going to live your life regardless of who or what your parents were."

"But that's not the point!" James abruptly broke in, his self control breaking away. He could feel a little of the bottled frustration that had been gathering for months at the hospital burst. "It's just that…"

"… you feel so incredibly alone, James?" Will retorted in a tone almost dripping with sarcasm. "What is it you want? Someone to pat you on the head, give you a hug, and tell you everything will be okay? Damn it, James, you're fourteen. You're not a little baby anymore, so if you have a problem, deal with it! No one else is going to solve it for you. You go figure something out, because no one else will!"

James opened his mouth to speak, but Will's cutting words had muted him. Bitting back a scowl, he jerked his head away to hide his face.

"Do you think anyone really cares if you go crying to them for help? Do you think those people there really care about you? When they pat you on the back and tell you everything's okay, that's crap! Those people who do that are only pretending to care anyway. The moment you do something wrong or turn out to be just a little different, they'll slap you, kick you, throw you out. Don't trust those people who pretend to care, James, they're all just lying!"

"That's not true," James drew a deep breath, trying to bring himself to yell but the failing ribs cut off his words in a wheeze. "You can't go through life thinking everyone's lying. There are good people, people who are kind, forgiving, understanding, and..."

Will sneered, a cruel and bitter smile cutting across his young face. "Some good people? Do you really want to take that chance? James, go look in the mirror before you jump to conclusions."

James faltered, paling into a ghastly white. Will's sour grin flattered at James' reaction, realizing too late that he had gone too far.

"Look, James, I never lost my memory, but I'm guessing it's pretty annoying," Will muttered, expression softening as he made a clumsy attempt at comfort. "But when it really comes down to it, those people never came looking for you, so why the hell sulk because of it? If they didn't care about you, you shouldn't care about them. Go on with your life and pretend they never existed. You're you, James. Who the hell cares who you were and what you were like before? Now, you're James, and you're going to live for yourself."




Apart of me wants to know for sure whether or not I'm an orphan, but most of the time, that question isn't on the surface of my mind. If my parents were dead, then, so be it. If they were alive, then, good for them. It doesn't matter if my parents were druggies, lawyers, gangsters, rapists, or anything at all. It's not like their existence is affecting me very much at the moment. I don't believe that I am worth less just because my parents abandoned me. I believe that the worst thing you can do is judge someone by his parents, even the parents he doesn't know exists.


I believe that graveyards should have no tombstones.


I believe that once in a lifetime, a person must get drunk.


I believe that no one can truly be right or wrong, good or evil.


I believe that Christmas should be celebrated with table lamps.


I believe that vengeance is worst choice a person can ever make in a lifetime.


I believe that no one can judge another person without living one year in the other's shoes.


I believe that death is the beginning of another great adventure. But I'm not ready for it just yet.


My name is James and I am alive. I shall live my life any way I please.


- James [ June 17th ] [ St. MaryAnn's Orphanage ]





The flashbacks between the journal entries are a bit rough since I took them directly from the unrevised versions. They're memories to his past year at the orphanage. It's a bit jerky though, since it has James in different time periods when he was very different; it makes no sense if you've never read the first version. I'm really sorry. But the subdued James was shortly after his hospitalization, when he was still very insecure.

This journal entry probably summarizes all the other flashbacks (if you've read the pervious version), or at least, that's what I tried to do. James is both serious, carefree, childish, but mature at the same time, and I tried to blend all his qualities into the three page entry. It feels blogged, doesn't it? A bit heavy and hard to analyze *sigh* Ack, I'm so sorry!

It is very confusing because the journal entry was interspliced with flashbacks to his orphanage life. I thought perhaps this was more informative, but it just made it more confusing. The first and last flashback took place on the same day, the dates are fairly important. August refers to the year before this is taking place, a few months after James left the hospital (it's very confusing if you haven't read the previous version, isn't it? Ack, I'm so sorry. James was in the hospital roughly 6 weeks, and he was confined to a wheelchair four another 3 afterwards). The dates are very important, keep your eyes out for them!

I hope you don't mind Will taking so much of the spotlight, since he is an original character. I know they're the least favorite thing among fanfiction circles, but for this fic, it's really unavoidable. In the previous version, I had planned to drop him altogether, but his character grew on me and now, I can't seem let him go. He'll stay with the rest of this story not as a key character. I hope he comes across as a real character, as an actual person with definite flaws and someone you can imagine meeting on a street, and not some male version of a mary sue. I hope that no one minds. I was trying to draw parallels between Will and James' friendship to Sirius and James' friendship, but there are still some really definite differences. Will is more bitter and more withdrawn than Sirius had been, much more dangerous because he's so angry at the world, but it balances James (Harry) out because he's not as innocent and funloving as his father. James thinks pranking is terrible, he disapproves of it but does it anyway (he's very contradictory). James is an idealist with very concrete beliefs, somewhat unusual for someone who had lost his memory only a year earlier, but nevertheless, that's the way James is.

Sorry this isn't much of an update. The next chapter is giving me tons of trouble. Sirius either comes out too giddy or too insane, it's a nightmare! I was going to upload this with the next one when it's done, but it's Thanksgiving (in America at least), so this is sort of a well wishing for everyone. I hope you all have a great hoilday!

Dawnclark - flying monkeys? Eep! Are they yellow? *flees*

crimson-dragon - thank you!

Akamu - I'm glad its looking better, and I hope this does turn out better than before.

Lisette - humm... I'll try to avoid it now. I was aiming for a more extensive view on the orphanage, but it was really difficult. The orphanage plays a huge role in shaping James' character, and the older version never quite revealed that. But I was afraid that focusing too much on the orphanage would draw away from the plot, thus all the sidebars. But since you don't find it detracting from the rest of the story, then I'll skip the annoucing altogether. I'm glad you're enjoying it!

Sabre Black - my old versions were horrible! You would never have understood the next chapters because it's been revised so much. Ack! Whip?! *hides*

Char - the rest were terrible! I mean it! So you've never read the previous version? umm... what do you think of the character Will?

Ruse - thank you! Yeah, the vomit scene was a bit... out there. Can you tell that Eric was on LSD? I tried to allude to that, but it ended up being too subtle. Sirius is not nearly as stable was in the previous version. *cackle*

Persephone - the next chapter is a bit of a sink hole. Every time I try the scene, Sirius comes across as being too unstable or too screwed up. Ack ack ack... I will write more soon! I have a mailing list, would you like to join? The link is on my bio page.

Arizosa - thank you! I will!

Cas - thank you! The last version didn't have a plot in the initial chapters, and when I finally decided on one, it was already 7 chapters into the story. It sank and went downhill from there. Yes, I will try to finish before Christmas! But seeing as to how much trouble the next chapter is giving me, ack... I'm still crossing my fingers though.

Jarvey - thank you so much! I hope this interlude wasn't too distracting.

stormyfire - that's great that you think the sidebars aren't too distracting. I hope this journal entry helps with establishing James' character.

Cat in the Hat - I'll try!

Nuts - *nod nod* Will knows many more things than in the last version. And Harry's not going to be as peacefully torn away now that he's actually awake when Sirius drops in. *sigh* things are going to be a lot stranger!

-_- yes! I love long reviews, they're very exciting to read. CoS was great, and the spider scene, in my personal opinion at least, was the best out of the entire movie. How could you miss it?! It was great! Watch it again next time, it's worth it! Although, I must admit, spiders are rather scary. Trading Spaces sounds interesting, interior design... humm... are you planning to take that as your career? Yes, December is going to be very much Remus and Harry centered, especially since he's the only one able to communicate to the poor kid. I decided to hold off on CoS until I finish rewriting WS. It's going to be revamped like PoM, and hopefully more accessible, so CoS is going to be on hiatus for a long long time. As for a sequel to GI, I can't tell you how tempting that is! But I'm still trying to hold off on it, maybe write a new ending to GI so it doesn't leave off so strangely. I have an account at fictionalley actually. I haven't uploaded all my stories there though, just WS and a few chapters of the old PoM. I don't have a live journal, but I have a blog which is essentially the same thing ( http://www.feffi.net/ack ). Will is... well, I can't say until his past comes out. That's okay, spill your theories! *cackle* Happy Thanksgiving to you too! *gets a butcher knife and *thwack!* to the turkey*

Semmel - yeah, I can imagine how everyone would be very upset with me! Luckily, it's only the revised version, so I have some padding around the noose.

Ari - thank you! It's great to see you, you've been disappearing on and off of the late, School must be very busy right now. Will was introduced a lot earlier, since in the last version, I didn't decide Will as being a Lestrange until chapter 5. Ack. I'm trying to cram the orphanage scenes into the early chapters so it wouldn't affect the later ones. The orphanage is actually... not that controlled. A bunch of children under one roof never quite makes for a pretty sight, especially if every child is stubborn and proud. It's great that the new version is coming out better! The next chapter is quite a pain, since that's when James and Sirius are brought in. It's very hard to manage since James isn't quite the same as the last one. *sigh* PoM isn't going to be very violent though, more realistic and not violent. I guess a lot of the tension comes from emotional disputes. It seems that these characters are rapidly becoming just as unstable as the cast of CoS. Eek... I hope everything's going great over there! Do you celebrate Thanksgiving?

Kaydee - wow! It's been quite a while since I've seen such a long rant from you! It brings back the good old days when my muse was still up and running and school wasn't nearly as demanding. Big words? Yeah, reading fanfiction really does help! Big words are definitely not my thing. I use small words to convey big meanings, but unfortunately, it doesn't work nearly as well. But I'm younger, so cut me some slack! Someone who studies words? humm... that's quite a feat! Language is mutating more than ever in this information era, and it's really hard to keep up to date. But its a fun career. Yes, Harry in leather in GI's sequel! I've got the scene all planned out, but now, I'm not sure if I want to put it on paper. Bad Harry lending good Harry clothes, claiming that all he had were leather. So he is forced to put that on, and upon going down stairs, bad Sirius thinks that he looks better in leather than his own godson, since he is thinner, but good Sirius pops many nerves and all hell breaks loose. Yes! *cackle* How is Shei doing by the way, I haven't been hearing from her. And Ally! *sniff* it's so sad! Inverse functions in math? That's not too bad actually. Wait until you get to intergrals! Inverse functions is just replacing y for x and solving. Will knows who James is, which was why he was so upset they recognized him. You'll see more about it. James is really weak actually. He wasn't wearing his arm brace, that's why. Eric didn't vomit that much, but James didn't have the strength to lift it. There is such a thing? I didn't know that! Oh... arug... vomit. I don't even want to know who tested the taste and sampled it, or how they figured what vomit would taste. Will went into the orphanage when he was eight, so he still remembers many things about the wizarding world. He probably won't remember his parents, but he does remember his uncle. I won't tell you what happens in CoS! I told Shei, and no doubt, I ruined the entire story for her. You must not to spoiled! That will ruin the entire thing for you too! Lucius is pronouced Looseeus, triske is right. It's really rather interesting because Luci means light or clear. Lucifer meant the same thing. I wonder if there is any sort of foreshadowsing. And in Hamlet, there are two characters named Cornelius and Voltemand, rather like Cornelius Fudge and Voldemort, aren't they? They're minor servants though, and perhaps that's foreshadowing something.

Sandrine Black - yup! I did revamp PoM very thoroughly, in fact, it's almost being completely rewritten. I hope you're enjoying it so far!

Blizzard - thank you! I wasn't sure how to deal with Will because he falls into the infamous OC category, and knowing how much people hate OC's, he was going to drop out of the story. But then I got attached! Ack... Will's background will be explained soon. I really want to write a sequel to GI, but... *sigh* I donnuo. It wouldn't be that humorous.

Firefox - thank you so much for the chapters! I hope it didn't take too long! Type until my fingers fall off? You're cruel! *wails* Well, my muse is dying because of the excessive amounts of homework, so there aren't much typing going on. humm... you haven't read the previous version? The previous one had cliffies almost at the end of every chapter, it was not fun *cackle*

darkphoenix - thank you! I hope you're enjoying this version.

jesusfreak7777777 - yes, it was! I'm amazed at your memory. I don't remember the title, but I remember the details, not very good for test taking unfortunately. I'm glad you enjoyed it!

shadowaren - at the end, Will was explained to have the last name of Lestrange. If you remember in the HP books, The Lestranges were famous supporters of Voldemort, and Will is their son.

ratgirl - well, I can't say about your speculation, but Will's past will be explained soon! James is going to have quite a shock, and a not that pleasant one when Sirius attempts kidnapping him.

Stephanie - yes, it was! Too bad the next movie isn't coming out until 2 years from now.

Masty2424 - yes, that was James. The bottom version was a flashback to James' orphanage, if you look at the date. I'm sorry if it wasn't clear.

august wynd - the second movie scared you? I thought the spider scene was scarier than the baslisik, but that's just my opinion. And Tom Riddle was neat! Yeah, it is sort of ironic that James became friends with a Lestrange, and that he almost took the name Lestrange. Quite the shock when everyone finds out.

Lucy - yes, James was definitely caught with all the dirty work. Will knows more things in this version, so the conflict will probably be worse. Sirius is a very scary man, what can we say? He jumps out of the darkness, wet from the rain, and tries to suffocate Harry while asking him a very strange question. Not a good thing. James doesn't have the best of impressions from Sirius. Harry in leather *evil cackle* I donnuo if writing GI's sequel is a good idea though.

Rachel A. Prongs - thank you! Ack... the next chapter's taking so long, but its incredibly hard to write because it's so different from the previous version. Ack... the old one is completely being scrapped.

Sugar Quill - I will focus on the story very soon! I wanted to get all the character development out of the way before the story takes off, so the first five chapters are probably the most pointless. The last version really had a feeling of backtreading though, which was why I rewrote it. It got to the point where I lost sight of the rest of the plot, it felt like it was floundering in still water. *sigh* Hopefully, this one will avoid that pitfall.

Hana-chan - thank you so much. I'm glad the sidebars don't feel detracting. James' character was never fully explored in the last version, and trying to belatedly explore it was what hindered the rest of the plot for thirteen chapters. Hopefully, this version would avoid that sinkhole.

Lothey - Will went into the orphanage when he was eight, so he does have a very clear memory of his life among wizards. His parents were already in Azkaban at the time, but he lived with his uncle. He does know his parents are death eaters though. Will has good intentions though; he doesn't particularly like the idea of James returning to the wizarding world. *cackle* Yes, a very insane and metally unstable Sirius and a Harry who remembers nothing is not a good combination. Sorry the next chapter is taking so long, it will be finished soon!

amanda - I have a mailing list, would you like to join?