Disclaimer: In the beginning, nothing of this will be original. Harry potter and all characters plots and elements that are used are property of the author J.K.Rowling. This is an alternate universe fictional story beginning from the end of year one (Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone), the differences should become greater with each chapter.
I figured out a perfect way for you people to find out when I will post the next chapter. If you are having problems with any of the secure features such as log in on ff.net then chances are that fate or what ever has decided that I can't post when I want to and hence refuses to accept my chapter. Test this theory it may hold true
Harry stumbled out of the forest in the late afternoon sun. The clouds that promised rain that morning were now covering half of the sky. The halls of the school were quiet as Harry carefully made his way back to the Gryffindor common room. When he reached the portrait that guarded the entrance he held up his hand brushing it lightly along the frame. It swung open exposing the red and gold room beyond.
Unknown to him one of his "best friends" was just catching up with him. Hermione noticed the small action. Fortunately she had other things in mind when she finally caught him half way through the room.
'Harry!'
The boy jumped, startled and whirled around, 'Hermione?'
'Where have you been?! I have been looking every where for you!' the girl spoke exasperated.
Not knowing what she already knew schooled his features, 'nowhere really. Why do you ask?'
'We have a quiz in charms tomorrow!'
'Your point?'
'Ron was being a prat and refused to leave his chess match so I went to find you. And to my absolute amazement not a single person had any clue as to where you were,' she glared fiercely at the boy, 'you do remember that you said that we were going to study today?'
The boy shifted weight from foot to foot. He had not recalled it until she brought the fact up. He knew it was a practical test and thus had discarded studying for it as a low priority. He had not had any problems with practical applications of magic since the year started yet he was careful to ensure that no one would notice that fact yet. On the other hand theory was another thing all together. He had no problem understanding magic, unfortunately it was the rest of the wizarding world that did. He had to be careful and ensure that he explained the "right" way of doing things. Otherwise he would draw attention to himself that he did not need nor want at the time.
The witch immediately latched on to the sheepish look on the young wizard's face.
'How could you forget?!'
'I was distracted,' the boy responded flippantly.
'By what?!'
'Can you keep your voice down?' Harry tried to stop the witch from drawing so many curious gazes. Ron shrugged his shoulders having finally looked up from what appeared to be an intense exploding snap match. Harry cursed his pseudo-friend in the back of his mind as his attempt at quieting the witch failed abysmally.
'Harry Potter! Tell me what was so important that you had to blow off our study session! This instant!'
'If you must know it was a sunny day today and the lake looked so calm that I decided to take a walk. Sorry I lost track of time...'
'A walk? You threaten your academic career over a walk?' Hermione said in a small poisonous voice, 'well who cares if you fail a charms test? At least you got to walk around the lake. I have half a mind to hex you from here to next week! I don't believe your nerve!'
She stormed up the stairs to her dormitory continuing to curse under her breath about how she was surrounded by idiots.
Ignoring everyone's glares he made his way up to his dormitory to grab a book before he left the tower to be some where no one would demand what he was doing.
'It was nice while it lasted,' he muttered to no one particular.
He noticed how his trunk was left open when he was sure that he had shut it before he had left. There was little he could do about it at that point so he filed it away in the back of his mind.
The winds picked up and the skies fell.
The reprieve from the weather did not even last until sunset.
...
The rain continued to pour as the month progressed. Harry had quickly found a charm that could keep him dry in the horrible weather, though he rarely actually used it. The clean rain felt good as he flew around the pitch. He still ensured that he was clean and dry by the time he left the entrance hall. When Harry was high enough he could pretend that he was the only one that existed and that the wind and rain only sung to him alone.
Wood's training of that day had left most of the team in a bad mood. Fred and George had just reported back from a session of watching the Slytherin team's practice. Apparently they were little more than blurs buzzing through the air above the pitch. Their newly acquired brooms gave them a clear advantage equipment wise. Harry who had watched a few sessions of his own noted that their current team used more brute force tactics than any actual strategy and so their strength was their weakness as well. His comment was hardly even measured by his fellow team-mates. This was why the young wizard was in a bad mood as he trudged down the corridor. He had used a cleaning and drying charm but he still wanted to take a shower to soothe his aching muscles. Wood's response to Slytherin's brooms was to train all team members twice as hard. He would no longer allow Harry to skive out on the team practice though the boy still tended to drift off on his own. Harry laughed at the whispers he heard behind his back. Apparently he had cracked sometime over the summer and was now mentally unstable. He flew better than ever but no one dared to approach him outside the Quidditch pitch. He shook his head when the whispers stopped when he had laughed out loud before heading towards the Entrance Hall and then through the corridors to his dorm.
Halfway down the hallway he heard a high pitched cackle that sent shivers of apprehension down his back.
Peeves was just about to complete a prank.
It was almost entertaining at times as long as you were not the target. Unfortunately there was no one else in the immediate vicinity and a rather large bucket was slowly making its way down the corridor from behind the unfortunate second year, seemingly carried by thin air.
Just as Harry was about to pull out his wand and turn around the bucket came down and covered the poor student with muddy water and other gunk. The poltergeist laughed out loud as he fled, disappearing around the corner with the bucket to make mischief elsewhere.
As the boy spluttered a certain familiar cat took this moment to come around the bend. Down the corridor it made a high pitched mew as it glared with her lamp-like yellow eyes at the mess that surrounded the poor student. Harry knew better than to just stand there and allow himself to be caught by the caretaker and started to pick up his pace back to the tower. Unfortunately running straight into the man he was trying to avoid was not the way a student avoids his wrath. The said staff member was barely halfway through a tapestry when Harry barrelled into him.
The boy knew he was in trouble.
Covering the said man in mud could be considered a hair worse.
Harry imagined he heard the poltergeist laughing in the distance as a purple nosed Filch dragged him down the hall towards his office.
...
Even though Harry had never been in the caretaker's office he was sure it fit the said man perfectly. It was a dark windowless cell that hinted of feudal dungeons and long and not so forgotten torture sessions. The ceiling was low and it was lit by a single oil lamp which hung from a hook by its handle. Filch's pride and joy, a set of classic chains and manacles, specifically for the punishment of wayward students, hung from another hook on the stone wall. A set of filing cabinets, which held the details of every punishment he had ever given a student, (the twins holding an entire drawer all to themselves) stood to one side of the desk. The cool damp air stunk of fish oil. Harry stayed still in the hope that he could draw as little attention as possible to himself.
Filch searched in his disorganised desk for some blank parchment. Shifting a stack of papers an envelope fell from the desktop onto the floor by Harry's feet. The boy reached down to pick it up only to have it snatched immediately from his grasp.
'Keep your nose in your own business, boy! Make an example out of you I will,' the man declared with a passion. 'Name... Harry Potter. Crime...'
'Peeves just...' Harry was interrupted before he could complete his statement.
'Conspiring with that spirit! I should have known. No better than your father! CRIME... assaulting a member of staff and befouling said member and the corridors of this school. Suggested Punishment... week of detention. House... Gryffindor. Head of House... Minerva McGonagall. Follow me Potter!'
Harry was dragged up several flights of stairs to a door near the transfiguration classroom where the caretaker knocked harshly on the door. A few seconds later an irritated professor opened the wooden door.
'Argus, how can I help you?' Professor McGonagall pushed her glasses up her nose. She turned to the student and her lips tightened, 'and Mr. Potter?'
'This miscreant decided he would cover me with muck and water!'
'Is this true Mr. Potter?'
'Miss, I was just heading back from Quidditch practice and Peeves doused me with a bucket. I didn't mean to run into him miss,' Harry answered honestly.
'You just had practice outside,' the witch turned to the window watching the rain come down in sheets. She then looked pointedly at the boy in front of her desk, 'in the rain and mud? Peeves just happened to douse you with the very thing you would be covered in? How convenient, Mr. Potter,' she answered in a disbelieving tone.
Before Harry could refute her claims she turned to the caretaker who almost appeared to be pleasant. 'What punishment do you recommend Argus?'
'He deserves far more but I recommend a week of detention...'
'That sounds acceptable...'
'Now see here you're always being to light on your students,' the caretaker already leapt into his standard rant not realising he just got exactly what he asked for.
'I just agreed to the punishment, to be served starting tomorrow night. Next time you may want to try the truth. You may go Mr Potter,' the teacher calmly dismissed the gapping student.
...
Harry despised the rags that the caretaker forced him to clean with. It was not like he was not used to manual labour, just that he was so tired of being on his hands and knees. It was his last day of detention and Filch had already forced him to scrub the Entrance Hall for the fourth time in seven days. The Halloween feast would be over soon. Ron had tried to distract him during his detentions only ending up in his way and Hermione had scolded him for making the mess. She was of the impression that teachers could do no wrong and believed strongly in the transfiguration teachers "fair" judgments. Harry had taken this time to ignore them both so as he did not have to wear his mask of naivety.
On an interesting side note Professor McGonagall had launched an investigation into mischievous houselfs. Apparently she had not been able to have a bite in the Great Hall in the last week. She refused to sink down to her student's level and instead spent her meals in the kitchens. The unfortunate thing with her was Phobos had tired of irritating Filch and had yet figured out how to get revenge against the poltergeist, on behalf of her master (they got out of the path of the bucket before it hit Harry) so she had the serpents' full attention. On a more positive note Ron had successfully used a fork at Tuesday's supper.
Harry was cleaning out some of the rooms in the lower dungeons when the caretaker fumed down the steps. 'That's it; get out of my sight Potter! If I see you mucking around again it will be two weeks. Damn brats,' the gravely voice of the caretaker dismissed him muttering under his breath. Obviously the man did not want to miss anymore of the Halloween Feast.
Harry started walking up the staircase to the upper dungeons, not really in any hurry to get anywhere. His patience with the Gryffindors of his year was wearing thin. Their emotions were so superficial that he wanted to beat some sense into them half the time, or cry out in frustration in the other half.
As he walked down the corridor he passed through a very morose looking Gryffindor ghost.
'Are you all right?' Harry tried sounding concerned for the nearly headless spirit.
'Why yes, young Potter, and no, today is my five hundredth Deathday. I am having a perfectly respectable party, and just as I start my speech the headless hunt show up and crash it!' Harry caught sight of the half spent blue flamed candles. The ghost started to float back towards one of the doors. 'You are welcome to come in if you are interested. But where are your friends? And shouldn't you be at the feast already? Eh no matter,' the ethereal being drifted part way through the black velvet curtains hung in the doorway.
Harry not really wanting to join the end of the feast, not having any appetite, decided he might as well check it out and said as much before he satisfied his curiosity.
'So is it good that it is your Deathday or is it gloomy?' Harry questioned deciding he had no real reason to be tactful.
'It just is; you really want to come in? Harry Potter at my Deathday Party,' the ghost's spirits rose as the preteen's fell. He was really starting to hate Harry Potter. He wondered if people could make due with just a cardboard cut out. He was sure that he could figure out how to make a moving one. Then people could have the two dimensional celebrity that every one used and discarded. A disposable Harry Potter. 'I wonder if Voldemort could make do with one of them instead,' Harry mused aloud.
The room was cold. All right the room was freezing but Harry hardly felt it, well besides wishing that he had his cloak with him ...and maybe a Weasley jumper. Around two dozen musicians sat on a black clad platform playing musical saws? The noise sent shivers down his spine. He could see his breath as he exhaled. There was a buffet table on the other side of the room, though he did not believe it was edible as he could smell the rankness from where he stood. Looking around he was sure he was the only living person there under the blue light glowing chandelier. Ghosts waltzed on the dance floor to the tempo of the almost painful music. A group of them were being obnoxious on one side of the room tossing around their ...decapitated heads?
Harry edged around the room not sure what exactly he should do. He caught sight of the Slytherin ghost, the Bloody Baron and instantly started walking in the opposite direction where he found himself facing the resident poltergeist. Deciding he did not want an altercation with the said spirit observed the rest of the room and its occupants.
The young wizard, not wanting the attention drawn to him, edged around the room walking towards a ghost that looked to be around his age though with the spirit kind he supposed that looks would be quite deceiving.
The ghost looked confused when Harry approached her and he had no idea of how to break the ice.
'Have you been dead long?' Harry spitting out the first question that was on his mind though he kicked himself the moment it left his mouth.
'Coming to pick on me,' she cried out.
'Um, no I am not exactly sure who you are?' Harry shook his head emphatically. 'I'm Harry,' the boy lifted his hand out to her.
'You really don't know me?'
'Am I supposed too? Are you a Hogwarts spirit?' This seemed to be a bad thing to say for her eyes were brimming with tears, 'I am not trying to offend you miss. I just think that I would remember meeting such an interesting ghost as you,' he did not want to have to deal with a bawling ghost at that time.
'*Sniff* I'm Myrtle,' she said quietly as she stretched out her hand. Harry reached to shake it only to have there hands pass through each other.
'Sorry, I forgot that we can't do things like that,' her cheeks darkened as she smiled at him.
'Nice to meet you Myrtle, where do you haunt?' the boy spoke almost with no consideration of his words. He was cold and surrounded by dead people. It was not as much fear that caused him to shiver as the ice in his veins from each time a spirit passed through him.
The girl looked kind of sheepish as she said, 'the second floor girls' toilets farthest from the Entrance Hall,' and then she giggled. Harry took a double take hoping he was misreading the signs. 'How did you die?' He tried asking something to turn her away, instead her entire face lit up. 'I was crying in the toilet because Olive was teasing me about my glasses...'
'I can understand my cousin always broke mine,' Harry interrupted.
'Really? Did your mum or dad magic them back together?' Myrtle questioned.
'They're dead,' he said morosely.
'I am so sorry,' she said, 'I did not mean to upset you,' she gave her sympathy.
'No it's ok. It happened a long time ago,' he smiled to show he was not hurt before grimacing as something hit the back of his head. He turned and watched as a larger piece of rotten food came at his head. He ducked only to hear the poor spirit behind him squeak.
'Do you want an escort madam?' Harry turned and asked Myrtle who giggled. He needed an excuse to leave and to avoid Peeves' continued attention.
She nodded and glided through the curtains across the door.
'Sorry for taking you out of there. You're free to go back if you want,' Harry apologised to his companion.
'Why would I do that every one else picks on me?'
'I was told once the reason they ganged up on me was because I reacted. If you don't react it takes away the bullies fun,' he recited a discussion a school councillor had given him after his cousin and friends bloodied him up when he was nine.
'Really? Does it work?'
'Not really they just tried harder to get me to react,' Harry responded as he walked up a staircase to the second floor. As Harry walked along the corridors he started to hear something.
'...and then she said'
'Do you hear that?' Harry interrupted the ghost as he started to hear the snake's voice from the Lockhart incident.
' ...time to kill ...to much time ...Aegisss locked insssidess ...Aegiss sso tired ...neverss agains bearded oness ...sso hungry,' the serpent hissed.
'No what?'
'Don't worry,' he improvised, 'I thought I heard the feast ending. But I guess I was wrong,' he said quietly still listening to the voice. He did not start to worry until he heard the voice panic.
'... I smell blood ... I SMELL BLOOD!'
Harry's stomach lurched when he heard this and he continued to pick up his pace until he was all out running.
'...blood sspilt on my groundss...'
He dashed down several corridors in an attempt to find where the blood was. The voice became faint and disappeared ahead of him. He rounded the last corner to find himself in a deserted corridor. He heard someone running off in the opposite direction. He would have followed but something else caught his attention.
'Are trying to get rid of me that fast?' Myrtle angrily spoke from behind him. 'Just who do you... Oh?'
Oh indeed. At the far end of the deserted corridor between two windows a message was painted in foot long letters.
ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.
Underneath the crimson message something was hanging from the torch bracket. Harry carefully approached the wall to get a closer look.
Mrs Norris, Filch's pet, hung by her tail. She was stiff as a board with her eyes wide open staring at the floor.
At first he thought Phobos was responsible. They had a tendency to target things that had wronged themselves or their bonded. Fortunately or unfortunately the message implied definite human intervention and to his knowledge his familiar had yet worked with any one else besides him.
As he started to jump in an attempt to get the cat off the wall he heard a distant thunder signalling the end of the Feast. He knew the cat was petrified, he had received enough of the hybrids "presents" to know that. The fact that he had no idea of how to undo the work of another creature never crossed his mind as his fingertips brushed the feline's whiskers.
The rumble of footsteps from hundreds of well fed students approached him.
'I KNEW IT! SLIMY BACKSTABING SNAKE!' Was the only warning he had before he was tackled into the wall from behind. He was forced to turn around as the same someone threw a fist at his face. Not being a complete idiot he quickly moved out of the path of the fist right before he heard bones cracking.
'What is going on here? What is the meaning of this?'
Attracted by the scuffle and large gathering of students, Argus Filch elbowed his way to the front of the crowd. His face paled as he noticed his familiar still hanging from the wall.
'My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs Norris?' he cried out in horror.
His shocked wide eyes fell on Harry as the furious Ron Weasley punched the young boy in his stomach.
'You!' Filch shrieked, 'You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll -'
'Argus!'
I voice filled with authority interrupted the not quite sane man mid-rant.
'Mr Weasley!'
Professor McGonagall cried out as the headmaster swept past them to inspect the cat. During the scuffle they had rolled away from the wall. Harry was just slightly winded while the red haired child had one broken hand and a bloody nose (something had to give and apparently the nose was weaker than Harry's forehead). The said Weasley unfortunately was blinded by both pain and rage seemed to continue pummelling the boy-who-lived, who was trying to catch his breath. Finally the Gryffindor head of house forcibly separated them with a flick of her wand.
'Ms Granger could you please assist Mr Weasley to the hospital wing. Argus, Mr Potter,' he nodded his head in acknowledgement to each person, 'please follow me.'
Lockhart cleared his throat and offered them the generous use of his office.
'Thank you, Gilderoy,' said Dumbledore.
The quiet crowd parted to let them through. Ron and Hermione headed in the opposite direction from the procession of staff.
Lockhart's office was just as he remembered it from last time. As the man lit the candles surrounding the room Harry had to stifle his amusement in the rollers held in various images hair. The man from the pictures seemed to be very proud of the fact that they were using his office for such an important meeting. Snape stood to one side seeming to hold back a smile at the situation. Whether it was from Harry's imminent punishment or Mrs Norris' predicament the boy knew not.
Filch was sobbing as Lockhart continued to expel his intelligence by talking about curses he had seen in places few even knew if they existed. He felt sorry for the caretaker but he knew Mrs Norris would be perfectly fine as she was only petrified. As Harry thoughts drifted towards how he could track down the assailant Dumbledore brought him back to the present by confirming what he already knew.
'Ask him!' Filch declared accusingly pointing at the young wizard in training.
'No second year could have done this,' said Dumbledore in an authoritative tone. 'It would take Dark Magic of the most advanced -'
'He did it, he did it!' Filch screamed hysterically, as his face darkened. 'You saw what he wrote on the wall! He saw - in my office - he knows I'm a - I'm a -' his face contorted as the man spat his bitter words. 'He knows I'm a Squib!' Harry tried not to laugh out loud. He really tried not to, unfortunately he had recalled the meaning of the word from a half forgotten conversation with Neville the previous year and it was Filch after all.
Unfortunately his attempt failed, earning him a glare from all present. Snape's lips twitched at the situation whether it was at Harry's expense he was still unsure of.
'Mr Potter! These are serious allegations. They are no laughing matter!' Professor McGonagall scolded as she held back the caretaker.
'I did not do anything to that damned cat! I was just trying to get her down from the wall!' The entire room stared at him half with disbelieving looks.
'Rubbish!' Filch screeched.
'If I may,' Snape stepped forward. 'Potter might have simply been at the wrong place at the wrong time,' he sneered as if he did not believe his own statement, 'though we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. What was he doing in an upstairs corridor in the first place? Why was he not at the Hallowe'en Feast?'
Harry started to explain the detentions before Snape interrupted him.
'Mr Filch carried your detention out over a meal?'
'Professor McGonagall authorised it,' Harry almost whispered as the mentioned teacher thinned her lips even further.
'Now see here! This is going off topic. What was Mr Potter doing in the corridor?' The irate transfiguration professor snapped.
'I was walking Myrtle back to her bathroom if you have to know!' Harry practically shouted at the woman.
'Who?' Lockhart questioned with a confused look.
At this point Harry explained his attendance of the Deathday party and their subsequent fleeing of said gathering. He left out the part where he heard the snake's voice for he had no desire to expose his gifts when he did not need to. Though the headmaster's magic did pull his ability from him. He knew he could not stop all information without him becoming suspicious. So he fed him enough truth to sate the man's curiosity.
'I do not believe that is the truth and until you do speak it I shall supervise your detent-'
'Minerva, I must insist that he is innocent until proven other wise,' the headmaster cut her off before she declared the punishment.
'My cat has been Petrified!' Filch abandoned all reason in his furry. 'I want to see some punishment!'
'We will be able to cure her, Argus,' declared Dumbledore. 'Madam Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made which will revive Mrs Norris.'
'I'll make it,' Lockhart butted in. 'I must have done it a hundred times-'
'You mean the one that uses salamander tails?' Harry questioned innocently to which the Potion Master raised an eyebrow as the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor responded with the unique method he had to slice them.
'Professor Lockhart I believe our Potions Master is more than able to handle it on his own,' the headmaster said ignoring Snape's amusement. 'Harry you may go,' the boy was dismissed.
As Harry walked down the hall a pale figure appeared in front of him. 'Did you get in much trouble?' Myrtle asked worriedly.
'Not really but thanks for being concerned,' Harry liked her honesty. None of the old goat's magic clung to her. He briefly wondered whether it was intentional or an oversight. 'Are you OK with going back to your toilet on your own? I really should head back to my common room,' he said with no great enthusiasm in his speech.
'You did not have dinner?' Apparently Myrtle had heard at least part of the discussion.
'No, but that's OK I was not hungry any-'
'Codswallop! Follow me. I know how to get into the kitchens. I went without several meals trying to avoid everyone before someone showed me how to get to them,' she started to float through the wall before she floated back out. 'I suppose we have to go the living way won't we?'
...
Over the next few days the attack had several effects. Some of the effects were desirable; some of them were not so desirable. For one, the one time forgivable whispers behind his back were now a constant background noise. For some of the Hufflepuffs he was the new You-Know-Who. Even the Gryffindors evaded his presence when ever possible including his various "friends".
'...his best friend...'
'...disappears all the time...'
'...don't even talk to him...'
'...laughs when nobody is there...'
The Transfiguration professor kept her eyes locked on him when ever she was in the same room with him that is to say her gaze was more purposeful than the rest.
There was one issue he could address.
Revenge.
He had written vampire friend seeing if he had any ideas to take down certain spirits, particularly one, the resident poltergeist.
The Ravenclaws took to their books seemingly even more dedicated to their pursuit of knowledge, though if Harry sat at a table in the library they would discretely edge away from him until he had a buffer of at least a table in all directions.
The most interesting issue was that some of the Slytherins looked at him reverently while others had fear on their face, Malfoy, the exception to every rule, found it extremely entertaining as he watched the various students' reactions.
He over heard at one point Hermione's frustration in not being able to find a copy of her bible, Hogwarts: A History. He certainly did not want to point out that he had a copy of it in his possession. He had read through his copy at one point before the Mrs Norris incident and reread it in the early hours of the morning. The second time, he noticed something he had not read previously. It was funny how his finding was not in some footnote of some obscure passage, but in the credits at the beginning of the text, "Reedited by Albus Dumbledore 1962." He soon filed this information away in the back of his mind for use in at a different time.
OK the reason I have not responded to most of the reviews is because I fear giving away to much of my plot. Every thing I write I order it so as that it can coincide with known facts of the Harry Potter Universe. One of the things people have forgoten is most if not all canon Harry's knowledge of the wizarding world is all second hand. What he is told and what is the truth could potentially be two seperate things.
Now I am going to thank my reviewers and readers from the last chapter:
Miss Lesley - be careful what you believe as the
truth
Elssha-thank you for sharing some of your thoughts, you have
given me a few directions to look for the answers
Phoenix Lumen, hikari-kage, Yasha, SmacksKiller, Melissa, deathsshadow-
thank you for the encouragement I am glad someone is enjoying this
Dumbledore- you have provided me with quite intelligent reviews
that has only spurned me to continue on with this story
Star Mage1- special shout out for grabbing my inconsistancy
now to those that have only reviewed to beg me not to have slash- I will repeat a statement that I put in a prior chapter, I write to what I want at the time of writing not to any individuals demand. If it is to be slash it will be slash, if it is not to be then so be it. Nothing any of you say will discourage the thought and the very act of your attempt only makes me want to do it just for spite.
Finally coolpadfoot- your reviews almost convinced me to just dump this story. I respect you right to your own oppinion yet I will say that his lack of friends is necessary to the plot. If you are bored so easily then I doubt you would be able to pick up most of the undercurrents. That being said you did give me several issues to think about that I had not considred before so thank you for voicing your oppinion. If I end up blocking your reviews it is nothing personal. I would believe I could not handle your level of critique at that point of time. All characters I have created have never been out of convenience but a necessity. My reasonings are my own. THis should be the only time I will justify myself to you.
To everyone who has ever placed a review regardless of nature thank you for putting forward the effort they are what encourages me to continue
I think I might start looking for a beta. I need someone that is open to everything and can pay attention to the details. The bit with Star Mage1 had me so a paranoid that I had to go over the whole story several times untill I was satisfied that there were no more glaring inconsistancies. I want some one that can remain unbiased but has no fear of critisizing as well as able to put up with my multiple personalities.