Disclaimer: See previous chapters.
AN: Wow. I just read over this and couldn't even remember having written at least 85% of it . . . I welcome any form of constructive criticism, especially on this chapter. I wrote different segments when I was in completely different frames of mind, so the writing style fluctuates a lot. Tell me what you like & tell me what bothers you! Of course, if you're not in a critical mood (as I so often am), just reviewing to say you at least read it will do, too. I need reviews this week! They always put me in a better mood & a smile would be greatly appreciated at the moment! Also, I realize another horrible MS quality emerges regarding Elizabeth in this chapter. Any suggestions on how to keep her from becoming a detestable character are welcome, as always. And lastly, now that school's started, I'm hoping to get into the habit of writing shorter chapters & therefore being able to update more frequently. I'm guessing my kind readers who've put up with spending long quantities of time reading these chapters will be grateful for that. But we'll see . . . Thanks for coming back to read this! Yours, WhetherRose.
Btw – Don't panic – this isn't as long as it looks. There's just a huge thanks section at the end ^_^
Chapter Eight: Complications
"Here it is," Hermione murmured, pushing a heavy book across the table to Elizabeth, her finger in place over the third paragraph on page 478. Elizabeth stared at her friend blankly, and Hermione, giving an exasperated sigh, pulled the tome back toward her. They had been sitting at the same table in the library since three o'clock that morning, and neither was in much of a mood to be there any more. Or at least be there awake.
But after being wrested from slumber by Elizabeth's dream, neither could fall back asleep. Deciding to borrow Harry's invisibility cloak and to try to find some answers in a book, they had tiptoed into the 4th year boys' dormitory. Harry, a light sleeper ever since Sirius' nighttime "attack" on Ron last year, had awoken at the sound of someone rummaging through his things, and had insisted on joining them. Just half an hour later he lay fast asleep surrounded by a pile of books.
Elizabeth had at first been struck with a fervent desire to find out exactly what was haunting her, and had scanned book after book with an incredible passion for hours. Now she looked numb, staring at Hermione from empty eyes. Hermione pointed patiently at the book in her hand and read, "The art of Divination takes on a variety of forms . . ." she stopped and scanned down the page. "Elizabeth, are you listening to this?" Elizabeth's head snapped up just before hitting the table, and her eyelids fluttered in response. "Don't fall asleep on me now, Lizzy. You know I don't usually take this Divination stuff seriously, and right now might be the only exception."
Tears flooded Elizabeth's eyes as she choked out, "Don't – call – me – Lizzy!" Hermione winced. "She called me Lizzy!" And the girl collapsed onto the table, the hair covering her face whispering up and down as she sobbed.
"Elizabeth, you're tired. We should get you to bed," murmured Hermione, placing her hand on her friend's shaking shoulder.
"I can't!"
"Shh . . . don't worry about class, I'll cover for you." Hermione glanced at the girl's frail figure, adding, mostly to herself, "They'll certainly believe it if I say you're ill."
"I'll have another dream!" Elizabeth looked up, and there was a great desperation, fed by shock and fatigue, shining from her glazed eyes. "Don't make me have another dream! Don't make me see it again!"
"But that's what I'm trying to tell you! I don't think they're really dreams! Just listen to this!"
"Hermione! You don't get it, do you? I just found out that my parents lied to me! Again! And . . . and . . ." her voice trembled and dropped in volume to an urgent whisper, "they're not even my parents. I've been living a lie my entire life. And I discovered that by watching my real mother die. Right before my eyes."
Silence enveloped the two girls staring at each other desperately, and the boy who was snoring lightly beside them. Hermione broke it after a minute by saying, "Elizabeth, I think you're a Seer."
The line did the trick. Elizabeth's eyes widened and she forgot her misery in a moment of surprise. "What?"
Hermione handed her the book for a second time and pointed. Elizabeth read:
The art of Divination takes on a variety of forms. From the everyday person, magical or Muggle, with the ability to sense danger before it happens or to see the "inner personality" of a new acquaintance before a word is said, to those with the talent to correctly read and interpret signs of the universe, to the all-powerful Seer, usually classified as one who envisions, vaguely or in detail, events of the future.
"But I didn't see the future."
"Read on. And don't roll your eyes at me."
These three examples can all be classified as different power levels in the same category – those with the gift of precognition. The Divine Consulate branch of the Ministry of Magic, however, has recently identified a second category. During their study of how the Ancient Magic enhanced methods of Divination in days long past . . .
"When was this written?"
"Early twentieth century. Keep reading."
. . . the Consulate unearthed documents describing a class of Seers uncommon in the present day, talented in what can only be thought of as 'postcognition.'
"Postcognition?"
"Don't laugh. If I'm going to try and take this seriously, the least you can do is help."
This rare talent allows the one gifted with it to envision events of the past. Because it is connected directly with the workings of the Ancient Magic, which supposedly regulates when such visions are meant to manifest themselves to the Seer, very few today are blessed with such a talent.
"They call this a blessing?!?"
Hermione was not in the mood for another of Elizabeth's rants, and wisely chose not to answer. Instead, she said, "Those things you dreamt – do you think they were real past events?" Over the course of the night, Elizabeth had recounted all her visions to Hermione (and parts to Harry while he was still awake), hoping for some help in deciphering them. She had, in the process, also admitted to the work she'd been doing on intoned charms.
Elizabeth took a deep breath and replied, "Parts of them, yes. That last one – where she was running through the streets – that was real. That's how she died – running away from something with me in her arms. But parts of it were probably just normal dream symbolism, or, according to this book, things the Ancient Magic doesn't feel like revealing to me yet."
"You really think the Ancient Magic still exists?"
"It's diminished, but I don't think it can ever vanish altogether. Besides, how else would I have been able to intone a charm?"
Hermione frowned. She hadn't been extremely impressed when she'd discovered the reason Elizabeth was falling behind in her schoolwork and looking exceptionally sickly. "Look, let's just forget about Intoned Charms for a min . . ."
Both girls were startled as the ringing of a bell rent the air. Harry tossed in his sleep, the invisibility cloak slipping smoothly to the floor, where it lay in a silvery puddle at his feet. Hermione shook him impatiently, crying, "Harry! Wake up! Herbology!"
The boy looked up at her groggily, pushing a hand through his disheveled hair. "What about Herbology?" he muttered, barely coherent.
"Go there! Tell Professor Sprout I'm bringing Elizabeth to the Infirmary and will be there shortly."
The girls watched him scurry off with raised eyebrows. "You think we should tell him he's still in his pajamas?" Hermione asked as he dashed around the corner toward the entrance doors of the castle.
Elizabeth shook her head. "We'll grab his robes when we go up to change and bring them down. He can put them on over." She stood up, stretched, and waved a hand lazily over the mound of books piled on the table. In an instant, all of them, excepting the volume Hermione still cradled in her arms, flew back to their respective places on the shelves.
Elizabeth was near the library doors when she finally realized she was alone. She turned around to find Hermione staring at her, motionless, still beside the table. Elizabeth sighed. "Look, Hermione, I understand you don't want me intoning any more charms, but that doesn't mean I should stop using the ones I've already learned. I've been able to do the Banishing Charm two days at least. It just comes naturally now. Takes much less energy than doing it by wand . . ." She trailed off at the sight of Hermione's meaningful stare. "What?"
"Where do you think you're going?"
"To our dorm to change into our robes so we can head down to Herbology."
"What about the Infirmary?"
"You just said that to Harry to buy us enough time to put on our robes and brush our hair and . . . that's just our excuse for being late, right? So Professor Sprout won't be mad. . ?" Her voice faded into a timid murmur.
Hermione glowered at her. "You think I'd lie to a teacher so I can go brush my hair?!? You're going to the Infirmary, and that's all there is to it."
"'Mione," Elizabeth simpered, her face shining with appealing innocence. "Look at me. I've been living off hardly any sleep for almost a week now. I can handle one more day. You can't make me miss any classes. My grades in Charms are already slipping; you wouldn't want to be responsible for the same thing happening in other classes, now would you?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're just not ready to tell anyone about your dreams."
"So what if I'm not? It's not exactly easy to admit you've just found out your mother isn't who you thought she was. And from a dream, nonetheless. Even if it was some sort of postcognition thing, who do you think'll believe me?" Elizabeth's eyes looked up at Hermione's beseechingly, and the imitation of childish innocence exuding from her was almost laughable.
"Oh, all right!" her friend snapped. "Come on! We'll just have to tell Professor Sprout they cured you and sent you back to class." She marched off, trying to appear upset and distraught, but Elizabeth could see the smile toying playfully at the corners of her mouth.
*~*~*
"Good day, ladies!" Sirius' voice cried in delight from just ahead of Samantha and Lily. He bowed gallantly to the girls, exclaiming, "Lady Sam, Lady Lily, may I have the pleasure of escorting you to Herbology this morning?"
The two giggled before Lily replied, her eyes sparkling wickedly, "Lady Sam and I have some things to discuss in private, so we apologize for being unable to accept your gracious invitation. But by all means, you may carry our books if it would please you."
Sirius grinned and winked at Samantha. "And she wonders why James gets so annoyed with her." Lily opened her mouth in protest, but Sirius was faster. He swept the girls' books into his arms, flicked his wand while muttering a swift incantation, and announced, "I'll see you in Herbology then!" before scampering off.
"Did he just curse us?" Lily asked.
Samantha looked at her friend wryly. "He must've really flustered you with that remark to make you not notice that was a shielding charm he cast around us."
"Shielding charm? What for?"
"It's raining."
"Oh."
The girls walked in silence for a while, until Lily asked, "You knew he was decent all along, didn't you?" Samantha nodded her consent. Another pause, then, "How?"
Samantha smiled. "It's a talent, I suppose. I just get these little feelings sometimes, in the pit of my stomach. And I just know whether a person can be trusted, before even getting to know them."
"Maybe you're a Seer," replied Lily lightly. Both girls burst into bright laughter.
"But you know," Samantha commented with a cautious look at her friend, "Maybe I shouldn't depend on those little feelings as much as I have been."
"Why not? They seem to always be right."
"That's what I thought, too, until I started getting this recurring one that couldn't possibly have any truth to it."
Lily's curiosity led her right into the trap. "What is it?"
"Well . . . it seems to me that whenever you're around James Potter you become extremely hostile."
"Anyone can see that, Sam."
"Yes, but does everyone know that those hostilities are merely to cover up feelings of quite the opposite intention?" Samantha asked, her voice lilting suggestively. "Because if they do, then the purpose behind your insults is quite defeated."
Lily gave her friend an astonished glare, then set off at a quick pace towards the main hall, so that Samantha would be unable to read the expression on her face.
Samantha took off after her, crying, "Lil, wait up! You'll break the shielding charm and I'm really not in the mood to get my hair wet!"
*~*~*
"Now, please, be very careful not to touch the petals of the flowers as you pick them. They are eager to suck in any moisture they come into contact with and will quickly wither your fingers. Not to mention the medical uses of the full flower with all petals intact. So remember: pluck by the stem and place each flower gently in your group's bucket. And don't forget that your papers on the Lydiflorum flower are expected next class. Ah, Miss Granger!" Professor Sprout turned with pleasure to see Hermione enter Greenhouse #5, the windows of which were still slightly fogged over from the day's early morning shower. The excess humidity still lingering in the air from the storm made it the perfect day to be working with the Lydiflorum, a flower partial to moisture. "And I see you've brought Miss Satine back with you."
"Yes, ma'am," Hermione replied in a low voice. "She's feeling . . ."
Elizabeth jumped in, feeling guilt at hearing Hermione lie for her. ". . . much better now. Madame Pomfrey really does work wonders."
The professor glanced over Elizabeth's frail figure and white, drawn face critically, but mentioned it not. "I'm glad to hear it," she said instead. "Now if you ladies would join a table and have your partners fill you in, please, for I already see one group that's not plucking their flowers far enough down the stem!" She hurried off to reprimand Dean and Seamus, who, despite Neville's weak objections, were carelessly attempting to finish their task in record time, leaving Hermione and Elizabeth to take their seats beside Harry and Ron.
"You're a Seer?" Ron asked Elizabeth incredulously, before either girl had time to ask the instructions regarding the yellow-petaled flowering plants scattered on the table.
"Ron!" Harry poked Ron in the side, muttering exasperatedly, "You weren't supposed to let them know I told you!"
Elizabeth couldn't help but give a weak smile. "Hermione thinks I am," she said in response to Ron. "Only I see the past, not the future."
"Well what good is that? The past has already happened – you can just look it up in some book."
"Not every event is recorded, Ron," Hermione stated matter-of-factly.
"What's the use of books then, eh?" Ron quipped. Hermione cast a dirty look his way.
Harry interrupted before an argument had the chance to form. "But you agree with her, don't you, Elizabeth? I don't see how you couldn't – the way you described some of those visions made them sound like real past events re-playing in your head, and not just interpretations of what happened."
Elizabeth bit her lip, a pained look crossing her face as she willed herself to recall some of what she'd seen. As she lingered over the scenes that had recently been troubling her, she absentmindedly picked at the flower in her hands, plucking it petal by petal and letting each float lazily to the greenhouse floor. Finally she said, "They all start extremely real, but by the end they grow more like dreams – more difficult to interpret."
"Like how Samantha's death is never explicitly shown? Just represented by a scream or a green light?" Hermione asked. Elizabeth nodded, rubbing a petal between her forefinger and thumb as she thought.
Harry's voice was soft as he said, "I used to dream of my parents' deaths with green light. Perhaps it means the same thing?"
"Yeah, maybe they're just memories that you're seeing – from when you were a baby – and not Seer visions at all," Ron added, but Elizabeth just shook her head.
"No," she whispered. "Just that last dream took place after I was born. Most of them were from when Samantha was still in school. They would start so happy, but the ending was always so tragic it shed a shadow over everything before." She looked down at the pile of plucked flower petals beneath her, fighting back tears. Catching sudden sight of her fingers, she gasped loud enough to cause Professor Sprout to look up and reiterate the sound.
The professor rushed over, exclaiming, "No, no, no! This is exactly what I warned against! Did nobody tell you not to touch the petals, child? And why would you be picking apart such a valuable flower to begin with?! Just look at those fingers!"
Elizabeth didn't need to be told to look; she was already gaping at her fingertips in horror. Having absorbed the last moisture from them, the skin covering them had become so raw and chapped as to have cracked in several places, allowing patches of blood to ooze out, bright against her pale fingers.
"Don't just sit there, Miss Satine!" Sprout was crying. "Stand up and get going! I'm sending you straight back to the Infirmary!" She quickly shooed Elizabeth out the door, not looking at all sorry about doing so. It seemed to her that Madame Pomfrey had had no reason to release the girl from her care in the first place. She watched in satisfaction as Elizabeth left the greenhouse, hoping that a second trip to the hospital wing would restore more color and vibrance to the girl than the first (supposed) trip had.
***
Elizabeth was hurrying down the corridor, her hands held out at her sides so as to avoid getting blood on her robes, when a voice from a classroom up ahead reached her ear.
"She's beginning to ask questions, Albus!"
Elizabeth stopped dead in place, a shiver running down her spine. The voice was that of Professor McGonagall, but never had Elizabeth heard her so distressed.
"Questions that we have no right to answer," Dumbledore replied calmly.
"Then perhaps we should appeal to Sarah once more! Elizabeth knows something. She's a clever girl, and I have great doubt that she will just give this up. She almost startled the whole thing out of me the other day by suddenly asking how Samantha died. I nearly said, 'Sarah never told you about you mother?' and only caught myself just in time."
Her heart beating wildly, Elizabeth inched toward the classroom, flattening herself against the corridor wall.
There was a pause before Dumbledore spoke again. His voice was grave, and barely audible. "I don't want to talk about Samantha."
"That's just it, Albus," McGonagall replied, her tone coaxing. "No one does. Yet she deserves to hear it from someone."
"Professor Flitwick informed me she has expressed an interest in Intoned Charms."
"Yes, but there's really no need to worry about that. No one's been able to channel the Ancient Magic for over a century."
"There are some."
"She's just a child, though."
"That doesn't mean she won't try. She knows her family was strong in that branch of magic. What's to stop her from trying to achieve such a level of power for herself?"
"Albus, I really don't think . . ."
"You may not be worried, Minerva, but Flitwick is. She's abandoned her other Charms work, yet it is her favorite subject and the one in which she possesses the greatest talent. She's up to something, and I fear she may be too weak to resist the power such things have to offer. She'll waste away reaching for something she cannot possibly achieve."
"She is not weak! She's obstinate! She has a right to know about her past, and since no one will tell her, she has taken it into her own hands. She is very much like her mother."
"And that is a good thing?" There was an edge to Dumbledore's voice that induced Elizabeth to take a few steps away from the door.
Professor McGonagall sounded on the verge of tears. "Albus, you know how good Saman . . ."
"Do not let your partiality for her sister blind you to what she did!"
"But we do not know what truly happened to her."
"No, and for that at least we can be grateful. I would hate to be pained even more by hearing the details of it."
Elizabeth swallowed the lump in her throat as the constellation-speckled robes of the Headmaster swept out of the room and down the hall. She waited long after he had rounded the corner before running the rest of the way to the hospital wing, her head pounding with what she had just heard, and her heart grateful that she had decided against sharing her dreams with anyone other than her closest friends until she found out more.
*~*~*
"Samantha!"
The girl, who was dashing down the first floor corridor, skidded to a halt at the sound of her name. She turned and swallowed hard. "Sarah?" she asked, her voice soft with surprise. She surveyed her sister before adding, with a touch more bitterness, "What do you want? I'm already late for dinner and I'd really like to get there while there are still mashed potatoes left."
Sarah walked slowly towards her, her eyes never leaving her sister's face. Samantha stared at them – what was that glittering there? Compassion? Regret? Sarah placed her hands gently on Samantha's shoulders, whispering, "Sammy, are you alright?"
The younger girl's face broke into a wide grin, and she threw her arms ecstatically around her sister in a tight hug. Upon releasing her, she answered, "I'm fine. Wonderful actually." I have Lily, Sirius, and finally, my sister, by my side, she thought.
But Sarah was pulling back. "That's unfortunate," she said coldly. "Because I would've loved to think that you're just out of your mind. But if everything really is so wonderful as you say it is . . ." she paused long enough for Samantha to take a faltering step backwards. " . . . then the only conclusion is that you're just another foolish, dim-witted little teenager. I had faith in you, but my friends tried to convince me otherwise. And lo and behold, they were right." Samantha was on the cusp of crying. She bit her lip to keep it from trembling and prayed that the tears blinding her eyes wouldn't spill in front of her sister. She always said I was nothing but a crybaby . . .
Sarah had turned to go, but she paused after a few steps and gave her sister a considering look. "You, know, Sammy," she said, "you still have a chance to redeem yourself. Just stop acting like a bubble-headed bimbo in your blind affection for that Sirius Black," she pronounced the name with great distaste, "and get back to your studies. If you work hard enough, maybe you'll prove that even though you're only a Gryffindor, you still possess some of the Ravenclaw virtues our family prides. Personally, I could care less about you tramping around disgracing us, but I really do pity Mother and Grandmama. They are ever so ashamed."
She flounced off, leaving Samantha to wonder why she had failed to defend herself yet again. If Sirius were here, he'd be disappointed. He'd say I shouldn't let Sarah walk all over me like that. He'd tell me exactly what I should have said, and he'd help me prepare to face her next time. Tears began tricking slowly down her pale cheeks. He'd take me in his arms and tell me everything will turn out okay. He'd tell me not to listen to her, and that I'm none of those things that she said. He'd . . . A new thought entered her mind. But what if I am?!? What if I really am the disgrace of the family? What if they hate me for becoming a Gryffindor, for getting a detention, for not living up to Sarah's standard? How could I bear to see Mother's face over Christmas holidays? And why does Sarah hate Sirius so much?!? Oh, I wish I could've thought up a good retort! When will it be my turn to make her cry?
Her thoughts ended abruptly as she reached the Great Hall and attempted to mask her distress with her usual sweet complacence. She glanced over at the Ravenclaw table, and, with a sigh of relief, noticed her sister wasn't there.
Despite her wishes to hurt Sarah in return, it probably would have pained Samantha to know that Sarah was at that moment draped across her four-poster bed, sobbing into the royal blue coverlet.
*~*~*
Elizabeth, finally having convinced Madame Pomfrey that her only ailment was lack of sleep, and having promised to get more of it, was released from the hospital wing. She raced down the corridor to the Charms classroom, praying she hadn't missed too much.
She entered to an interesting sight: The students were each set up at a desk about two meters away from small permo-cement walls (walls of the strongest kind, guaranteed to obstruct anything crazy enough to collide with them). On each desk were nearly two dozen marbles, and her classmates were practicing casting Unbreakable Charms on them.
Elizabeth grinned. This was a charm she could do. Walking to the back of the classroom to join Hermione, she was shocked to hear Parvati yell, "Duck!" Elizabeth jumped out of the way just in time to avoid being hit in the head by an airborne marble. She scurried to her desk and stared at Hermione, bewildered.
"We're testing to see if the charm worked by throwing the marbles against the permo-cement," she explained placidly. "Professor Flitwick though it'd be more fun this way." Elizabeth glanced around, noticing only five or six thrown marbles remaining intact around the class, three of which were Hermione's. Professor Flitwick was completely occupied using charms to clean up the shattered glass littering the ground. Hermione waved her wand over a marble, said the spell, and deftly flicked the tiny ball. The wall deflected it with a dainty clink! She turned to Elizabeth. "So why did you come back to class?"
Elizabeth sighed. "Hermione, what good would it be to go to the silent common room and dwell on everything that's happened? It's better to just be here with you and Harry and Ron. Besides, missing classes and creating more make-up work for myself wouldn't exactly be a good idea at the moment."
She reached for a marble and raised her wand, poised to cast the spell. What happened next took only a matter of seconds:
Dean, having broken the last of his marbles, reached for one of Neville's, but grabbed something else by mistake.
Neville cried out, "My Remembrall! Dean, wait! I need that!" but was drowned out by Seamus' cry of, "C'mon, Dean! You can do it this time! Twenty-third try's the charm!" Dean charmed the ball in his hand and brought his arm back in preparation to throw. Neville, panicking, lunged himself toward Dean, hitting Elizabeth sharply across the shoulder in the process. Her marble shattered and her wand clattered to the ground as the Remembrall whipped from Dean's hand with a hearty whoosh!
For a second, time stood still, Neville's wailing "Nooo!" lingered in the air as every pair of eyes focused on the tiny orb hurtling inevitably toward the cement wall. There wasn't the time to think, or even to raise a wand.
But there was time enough for Elizabeth to shout the first thing that came to her, the freezing charm she had first used the morning she'd met Hermione. "Freglacio!"
The ball stopped in midair and the cry ringing from Neville's throat ceased. The class remained as motionless as the Remembrall.
Finally, someone spoke, a meek comment emerging from Lavender's direction. "But, but . . . she didn't have a wand."
A wave of panic washed over Elizabeth, and she swayed under the gaze of so many eyes. But their attention was soon directed elsewhere as the blunt thud of Professor Flitwick's body resounded from the floor.
"He's fainted!" someone cried, and most of the class rushed to his side.
Elizabeth's eyes went wide and they met the gaze of Hermione, Ron, and Harry, who were still staring at her, with a plea for advice on what to do next. They gave her no answers, and all that could be heard from the girl was a simple, childish, "Oops . . ."
AN: Things will get more interesting! I know this was just a boring transitory chapter, but the plot is going somewhere, and hopefully soon. I loved all your predictions about Sirius! I'm not going to say anything about them yet, though . . . Hopefully the meeting with him in Hogsmeade will happen next chapter. And I'll try to have more Sirius/Samantha in there, too. I was just not in the mood to write romance when I was working on this. Enough said. ^_^
Shout-out to Reviewers:
I love you guys so much!!! I got 16 new reviews since posting Chapter 7 – definitely a record for me – I couldn't believe it! And do you that I've never received a single generic "Write more, this is good" review? Every single one has been helpful and/or specific! You don't know how happy you all make me!
Lady Lanya Artemisan: *laughs* I know it's insensitive to say I'm happy I depressed you, but the fact that you like Elizabeth enough to feel bad for her is so cheering! Yeah, Sarah is pretty cruel, isn't she? She has some issues to work out. Which reminds me – I'd better not forget to write that section! Sarah's role in the story often fails to grab my attention . . . But anyway, you were first to review the chapter! Thanks for being so loyal!
Balizabeth: I have to contradict you: I think working with totally new characters is much easier than working with those that someone else has already created. I'm definitely way too hesitant to play around with JKR's characters, cuz I'm always afraid I won't be able to do them justice. With my characters I have no one to live up to but myself! But thank you – I love hearing that people like my OCs. I'm just afraid they'll overrun the story and leave the canon characters behind! Don't worry, I'm working on fixing that. I do, however, agree that Hermione needs another girl around. After all, there's only so much understanding she can get from two guys . . . But at the moment, Elizabeth's probably more of a nuisance to her than a comfort! Feel free to steal review space for a personal bio anytime. I like to know about my reviewers, and you certainly have a more interesting life than I do ;)
Tsukii-chan: So, are you first this time? Probably not if la reine nephrenia really did manage to break the computer. Pauvre ra-chan (I'm going to continue calling you that for awhile). When you have Internet access again, send me a stern e-mail telling me that I have to stop procrastinating doing chem homework & english essays by writing individual messages to each of my reviewers . . .
Pinefresh: Thank you, thank you, thank you! *laughs* Your reviews are fun to read. Sorry this took so long to get up . . . I'm horrible at finding time to write fanfiction. I could never post 4 chapters so quickly like you do. But I'm trying ^_^ Thanks for setting a good example! ;)
Bessyboo: *grins* Your reviews are fun to read, too. Loved the prediction, but that's all you're getting out of me! I'm sorry to have stopped there, but I just love cliffhangers. They make natural endings to the chapters, never mind that they drive readers insane ^_^ I'm glad you're so into this, and I hope you're having a better week than last . . .
Cellie: Interesting? So I'm not boring you yet? Ah, merci beaucoup! I hope to fit one more big plot twist like that in, but I'm afraid readers won't like that one as much. But you never know 'til you try, right? Thank you so much for returning to read this; I love hearing your opinion :)
Karma50: hehehe . . . I love reviews that start with the word "wow!" I'm glad you liked the Sirius/Samantha scene last chapter. Personally, I did, too, but no one else mentioned it. I put you in a trance? I love reading fanfiction that does that to me, but I never expected I'd be able to the same to someone else! So thank you!
Snowwolf: I can't believe you re-read the whole thing – you can't imagine how honored that makes me feel! Don't worry, I'm no history lover, either. I'm taking American History this year and am expected to have a background in it already, but I've never studied a word of it before! I can already tell I'll have problems in that class . . . There's going to be some Lily/James eventually, I just wasn't in the mood to write fluff this week. I'm planning to write a L/J fic after I finish this one, actually, but I'm a big dreamer, so I don't know if that'll really ever happen. Sarah will be mentioned more often starting, well, this chapter, actually. I haven't forgotten about her relationship with Minerva, don't worry. You get confusing dreams, too? I have about three a night. That's why I like writing Elizabeth's dreams – these ones I can at least make sense of!
Nikki: I still can't believe you came! But aren't you glad you did? You're feeling less inferior now that you have your name in the thanks section, aren't you, dear Jane? ;) It's fun reading your reviews, cuz you know where some of this is coming from. My mom's driving, yep. I was probably annoyed at her for refusing to let me practice the day I wrote that! Scott's based on a combination of several different guys (*cough*and jock brothers*cough*) that I know. I'm thinking of bringing him back in later chapters; he's a lot of fun to write. You've fallen in love with a nonexistant guy! Unfortunately, you don't have Tessa on that level with you anymore – I think she might just be in love with a real guy this time (*gasp!*). And a prince, nonetheless! (Just teasing, Katya!) Now that you've amply apologized for not e-mailing with your wonderful praise, feel free to criticize, ok? But if you're too nasty, I'll make sure everyone knows, from Georgianna herself, your low connections in life! (A threat regarding a make-believe fact. Scary, non?)
The-fairies-midwife: What a cool penname! MWPP = Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot & Prongs, in other words: the Marauder time period. Ah, a fellow procrastinator! That's what I'm doing right now by writing these thank-you notes, although I honestly didn't think it would take this long . . . I'm going to be up late tonight writing my english paper & deciphering my chem lab *sigh* But then again, you probably procrastinated even longer by reading the whole story at once. I'm impressed. And extremely flattered. And now to return (or attempt to do so, anyway) the happiness you gave to me. Time for my good deed of the day ^_^ :
***IF YOU'RE LOOKING FOR AN INTERESTING READ, TRY THE-FAIRIES-MIDWIFE'S ORIGINAL STORY! Tsukii-chan & I are the only reviewers so far, but she definitely deserves more! Just click on her name in my reviews!***
Oceansun: Don't put yourself down – of course your characters seem real! The question is – do mine? Thanks for all your praise & enthusiasm. It's so uplifting to find someone interested enough to read a 7-chapter story from the beginning. It'll probably be awhile 'til you reach this chapter though . . . I'm looking forward to seeing more reviews from you! ;)
VyingQuill: Thanks to you above everyone! Your comments are so helpful & constructive! I think I love reading your reviews above all others! I love all your questions, too. Most of them will be answered later in the story, but I can mention a few now. No, Elizabeth's not French, but she learned it as a little girl from her mother (who learned it as a child in Europe), so she often randomly uses French expressions. And, no, that's not unlikely. I'm American through & through, but I do exactly the same thing! Thanks for commenting on the things you like – it's just as helpful to know what I do well as it is to know what desperately needs improvement. "Her laughter rang like bells . . ." I love that old saying, too. I deserve hundreds of reviews for this? I was grinning for hours after reading that. Of course, I would love that, but I'm still in shock that I've managed to get this many! Thank you so much once again!