Hello! It's me here, anyway, yes, I'm painfully aware that I haven't updated in what, FOUR MONTHS! Gosh.
Hmm, yes, I'm having my term tests when school reopens, in a week, and I SWEAR that I will get the next chapter up by mid-July if not sooner.
Anyway, I'm currently in the process of reviewing my written works, and I'm going to post the re-written chapters up. I realize the style might be quite different, but I feel that it completes the story more thoroughly. The re-posts will come in at least a week's time, so could you guys do me a favour and tell me what you think about how I write now?
Oh yes, I suppose I can't leave it at just a simple author's note, can I?
-cube
--------------- A peak at what's to come ---------------------------------------
Lily stared down at what was spread haphazardly on the table in front of her, shock painting that lovely face of her. Not a single muscle moved.
Time seemed to freeze right then, and after an infinitely long moment, a single wet drop appeared on the polished oak table.
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"NO!" James yelled as he threw sheets across the room as hard as humanely possible, seeming as though he wanted to forget that it even existed. For a moment, he stared blankly into space, before stumbling into a wall.
His legs buckled beneath him and he slid down the wall, landing to rest on the floor, looking as though a rather large brick had been hurled at him. He was stunned.
'How could this have happened?' He thought to himself as he gripped his head with both his hands.
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"Are you certain this is what we should do?" Alex asked the girl at his side, trying very hard to keep what he felt inside. Yet, some concern still painted his face.
Joy shrugged.
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Dumbledore appeared older than ever as he sat in his chair in his office. Sensing his emotions, Fawkes fluttered down from his perch to land on the edge of the heavy oak table.
Dumbledore sighed before pulling at his magic, testing the wards that where woven seemingly around the school yet not quite so. The wards flexed and held steady.
'Only time would tell.'
He hurriedly wiped all emotion from his face before resuming a smiling and confident façade as a knock sounded on his door.
"Come in," he said.
Minerva Mcgonagall stepped into the office, holding a large sheath of parchment that was undoubtedly the months' disciplinary record.
He tuned her out as she started on her report, analyzing what misbehavior the students had gotten into, and what had been done in accordance, making appropriate sounds of interest to make it seem as though he was paying full attention.
Yet, somewhere in his mind, he thought, 'weaknesses must not be shown. The world as we know it is entering into dark times, and everything rests on the shoulders of two who are barely adults.'
Nodding his head absently, he wondered if what had forced fate apart could be broken, and if the two were strong enough to bring fate back onto its path.