CHAPTER TWO
~*~
The Return to Grimmauld Place
Harry stood up from his bed. The Radfly 1000 was still playing; Harry walked over to it, and turned it off. He snatched it from the air seconds before it hit the hard wooden floor. As he turned to walk back to his bed, he noticed that there was a puddle of water in the center of his room. He looked to the left of himself and he noticed that he had forgotten to close the window. He shut it and traveled to his trunk. He set the Radfly on it, and he sat down on his bed.
He pressed his head against the cool wall above his headboard. He closed his eyes, and imagined that the darkness inside of his eyelids was a calm white. He cleared his head of all the thoughts going through it. Who was that girl? Why did Voldemort kill her family? What did Voldemort want to know?
Harry pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes. He had to relax. He didn't want to be sucked back into Voldemort's head. He didn't want to be angry anymore; he wanted his own feelings when he wanted them. Harry hated this curse. He cleared his head completely and drifted off to another sleeping spell, one without the dreams of hate and destruction; he dreamed of nothing.
~*~
Harry woke up. It seemed to him that only seconds before he had fallen asleep. He pushed himself out of bed and headed downstairs. Aunt Petunia was at the stove, a sour look was on her face. She brought the pan from the fire and set it on the table. Uncle Vernon reached across the table and snatched a piece of bacon with his fork. Dudley, on the other hand, had a look similar to his mother's on his face. Another diet, Harry thought. His cousin Dudley was huge; he was about the size of a baby elephant, but he had the features of a pig. He would eat anything any time, his eyes were watery, like his father's, and his nose looked almost like a snout of a suckling.
Harry sat down and quietly asked, "Aunt Petunia, may I please have a rice cake and peanut butter?" His aunt tossed a rice cake and a jar at him. Harry silently spread the brown paste over the disk. Dudley let out a shriek. Harry wondered what he had done, but his aunt was the one that made his cousin squeal; she had just placed an apple in front of her son.
"What the bloody-"
"Not in front of a lady son," Uncle Vernon corrected, "it's not polite."
Uncle Vernon was surprisingly docile to Harry. Maybe he got a promotion, he thought. Uncle Vernon leaned over to Harry and said, "Another ruddy owl came today, and a letter came with it, says you're going somewhere for the rest of the summer."
"Give it to me," Harry said, his voice was filled with happiness. He was finally going to see his friends again.
Uncle Vernon handed the card to Harry. In gold letters it read,
In remembrance of our beloved friend, Sirius Black, there will be a Memorial Service in his honor today.
Harry took a bite of his breakfast, the peanut butter suck to the roof of his mouth. He flipped the card over and in small black handwriting it said,
Harry,
This card is a Portkey. It leaves at three o'clock. Get your things together, and hold on to them so that you can move into Grimmauld Place for the rest of the holiday. You are speaking at this service, so get some material together for reciting.
Remus Lupin
Harry looked at his watch; it was ten o'clock. "I'm going to go pack," he announced to the Dursleys. "I won't be back until next year." Harry shoved the rest of his rice cake into his mouth and he ran up the stairs, card in hand.
When he got upstairs, Harry dove for the loose floorboard and ripped the plank away revealing his stash of things important to him. He carefully removed the broken shards of glass and wrapped them in a piece of parchment along with the frame of the mirror. He grabbed the Potions Master, his Invisibility Cloak, the Marauder's Map, his photo album, and his schoolbooks. He gently placed the mirror at the bottom of his trunk, and put his books in next, followed by the photo album and the Potions Master. He picked up the Radfly which had fallen to the floor and tossed it in his trunk. He placed his pewter cauldron carefully into the wooden chest, he put the Invisibility Cloak and the Marauders' Map in it, and he ran to his closet. He grabbed some jeans, his school robes and some shirts; he put the jeans in the cauldron and the rest he placed next to it. He found his dress robes and laid them on his bed.
Harry pulled his bag from the bottom of his trunk and took out his eagle feather quill, some ink, and a piece of parchment. He started to write.
About an hour passed, Harry's parchment was filling up fast. He glanced at his watch, it was twelve thirty. He looked at his emerald green dress robes; they were dusty and dirty from not being used in two years.
He thought. Harry dared himself to do something that he had never dared before.
Harry carried the robes down the stairs and crossed the parlor to where Aunt Petunia was sitting. "Aunt Petunia?"
"Hmm?" she looked up from her paper and stared at the clothing in Harry's arms.
"Aunt Petunia," Harry said again, "Do you mind washing and ironing this for me?"
His aunt was fixed on the robes, "Where did you get that beautiful cloth?"
"I bought it from a store for wizard and witch clothing."
"Oh," Aunt Petunia pursed her lips. "Sure."
Harry was shocked at her reply, "Really?"
Aunt Petunia looked at Harry straight in the eye, "On one condition," Harry suddenly became nervous, "If you send me some cloth like that for Christmas, I'll wash it and iron it for you."
"S-sure," Harry was surprised at Aunt Petunia's generosity. "I promise that I'll send you some. Thank you."
Aunt Petunia took the robes from Harry and he watched as her bony body carried them to the laundry room. His aunt was never that nice. Maybe she's just like that when Uncle Vernon's around, Harry thought.
Half an hour before three, Aunt Petunia brought the robes to Harry's room. She also had with her a jar of hair gel. "I saw that card," she said to Harry, "Wasn't Sirius Black that man that escaped from prison a few years ago?"
Harry looked up from his speech that he was going over, "Yes he was, but he was also-"Harry stopped. How was he supposed to tell his aunt about his relation to Sirius? Just tell her, he told himself. "Sirius was my godfather. He was wrongly accused, and he was a close friend."
Aunt Petunia stared at Harry, "I'm sorry for your loss." She handed the items to him and left the room.
Harry pulled his robe on and went into the bathroom. He looked at his reflection, and unscrewed the cap to the hair gel. "I doubt this will do any good," his image said to him. Harry dipped his fingers into the cold jelly and applied some to his hair. He took a comb and slicked it back; Harry did not like the look this gave him at all, and as if his hair heard him, it sprang back to its natural position. "Oh well." Harry put the cap back on and left the tiny pink room.
He looked at his watch, fifteen minutes left. Harry threw the rest of his things into his trunk. He shoved his wand in his pocket and grabbed Hedwig's and the ebon's cages.
He took the invitation and his speech into his hand and stared at his watch. Ten minutes. He quickly ran downstairs and grabbed some rope from the cupboard under the stairs. After practically jumping up the stairs he tied the birds' cages, his broom, and his trunk together. He shouted "I'm leaving!" and closed his bedroom door. He held onto a handle of his trunk and the parchments as tightly as he could.
He again looked at his watch, three... two... one. Harry felt as if something was pulling him from behind the naval. His hair whipped around, and his robes flapped in the wind. Harry gripped his things even tighter than before, afraid that he might loose them. Then it all came to a stop. Harry was standing in front of number twelve Grimmauld Place.
The door opened and Remus Lupin came running out. His brown hair had small streaks of silver in it, and his young face had the signs of aging, an astonishing feat to accomplish. "Hello, Harry," he said warmly as he grabbed Harry's belongings. "Glad you could make it! Why don't you go around back? I'll take your things."
Harry nodded and went around the old house. The building looked as if it could fall apart at any minute. Harry was amazed at how beautiful the back yard was compared to the front. A lush garden surrounded the place. Flowers of many colors were planted in small rows and served as borders for the lot. In the center of the yard was a podium, and in front of it was a plaque with a picture of Sirius on it. Under the picture it read,
In loving memory of Sirius Black... Relative and Friend... Who risked his life for his allies.
In front of the podium were rows of chairs. Harry sat in a chair next to the aisle in the front row. He was the only one there at the time; he looked at his speech again. Butterflies began forming in the pit of his stomach, and he did not like it.
The chairs started to lose vacancy. Harry watched as the Weasleys came out of the house, Hermione was with them. Other members of the Order of the Phoenix came out of the building soon after. Members of the school staff, including Hagrid, appeared around the corner of the house. With a pop, Professor Albus Dumbledore Apparated in the seat next to Harry. "Good afternoon, Harry," he said.
"Hello, Professor."
Three chairs on the other side of the aisle were still vacant. Who could be missing? Harry glanced over his shoulder; everyone that he could think of that would be invited was present. A minute later a girl in black robes silently sat in the seat opposite Harry.
She had dirty-blonde hair that ended just below the shoulder, the layers and waves swayed in the gentle breeze, and one lone strand of hair stayed in front of her face. She shivered as yet another breath of wind played with her hair. A black choker resided around her neck. Harry felt that she knew her some how, she seemed very familiar.
Dumbledore stood up and walked over to the podium. He conjured a wreath of flowers and placed it around the plaque. "Today we are gathered here to share our memories of our dear friend Sirius Black..." The old wizard began his speech. Harry couldn't listen; his ears seemed to have shut off. His eyes strayed from the half moon glasses to the plaque. The engraved figure stared back at Harry, a goofy smile just like Sirius's was on its face. Harry stared at his hands for the rest of Dumbledore's speech.
Harry was snapped out of his trance when Dumbledore invited him to speak. Harry stood up and inched his way toward the podium. His paper shook in his hands as he began to speak.
"Er, I, I didn't exactly write a speech. I-I wrote a poem instead," he search the crowed for approval. His eyes locked with the girl in the front row. She nodded at him and he read,
"A pane of glass,
A breath of air becomes fog on the frozen window of time.
You trace your fingers on the cool hard pane,
And leave an imprint on life...
The fog slowly recedes
And all that is left is a streak of oil,
Your imprint...
A small representation of your mark on the world;
You.
Cleaners and others' hands will smudge the mark,
But when light shines through it
You can still see your symbol,
It has scarred the glass;
No one can erase it.
Life
Is like that in a way...
Your legacy is left behind
And others' lives are affected by it.
Some other people's marks will overlap yours.
Your memory can be forgotten...
But when some one traces their finger on that old pane or shed light on a flicker of a
Remnant
Of your past...
It can be seen by all,
Or only by
One."
Harry looked up; his eyes met the girl's yet again. She smiled. Mrs. Weasley let out a wail of sorrow. Harry looked at her and she wiped her nose with her handkerchief. He returned to his seat and the girl got up. She took up the stance Harry had just left. She looked at Harry; her grey-blue eyes startled him, as he received the full intensity of her view.
"Hello. My name is Selene Artemis." Harry then realized why she looked familiar; he, no, Voldemort killed her parents last night, and Harry had witnessed it. "I have known Sirius for three years. He would talk to my parents and me through Floo powder after he escaped Azkaban.
"He was a sweet guy, who always made me smile. He was brave, and he would have appreciated what we're doing today." Selene stopped talking and she drew her choker from her neck. She took out her wand and touched the gem on the ribbon with it. The stone was half white and half navy.
She then said, "Bade and Chaundra Artemis, would you like to speak?" Harry was confused by her actions, but he continued to watch her. He noticed that she had an accent. He concluded that it was American, just like her father's.
Selene slowly pulled the tip of her wand from her choker. Two glistening white strands were attached to it. She dragged the wisps higher into the air. The strands began to grow until they took the shape of a man and a woman.
The man had dark brown hair with small silver strands running through it, a beard, and a strand of hair fell in front of his face just like Selene. He had happy grey-blue eyes that were fixed on Selene's face.
The woman was slightly shorter than Selene, had dirty-blonde hair, and her face resembled Selene's in many a way. Harry's scar gave him a prick of pain, when the woman's eyes met his. He felt guilty that he knew how these people had died.
"Sirius had a great sense of humor," the man started. "He was confident and strong-willed..."
Harry's eyes traveled from the man to Selene, whose eyes were focused on the wood of the podium. She flinched as the ghost of her father wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Harry's attention and eyes were fixed on Selene. Does she know how her mother died?
The woman began to talk. "He was always having fun..." Now she sounds like a native thought Harry. "We'll really miss him," she concluded. Harry again had not concentrated on the speech being given.
The man gave Selene a wink, and the couple disappeared in a wisp of smoke. Selene put her necklace back on, and she solemnly walked back to her seat.
Other people spoke; Hagrid just bawled. Harry did not pay much attention the whole ceremony. He just thought about Selene. How did her parents know Sirius? Should I tell her about her mother?
Lupin was the final person to speak. After his speech he invited everyone in for snacks and socialization. Harry was happy; he was finally someplace he wanted to be.
~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Sorry for breaking up the story with another Author's Note, but I just wanted to state my Copyright for that poem. It is my work, and I'd appreciate it if you don't steal it or copy any line of it, same with the rest of the story. Any questions then contact me, otherwise enjoy my fan fic!
~*~
The Return to Grimmauld Place
Harry stood up from his bed. The Radfly 1000 was still playing; Harry walked over to it, and turned it off. He snatched it from the air seconds before it hit the hard wooden floor. As he turned to walk back to his bed, he noticed that there was a puddle of water in the center of his room. He looked to the left of himself and he noticed that he had forgotten to close the window. He shut it and traveled to his trunk. He set the Radfly on it, and he sat down on his bed.
He pressed his head against the cool wall above his headboard. He closed his eyes, and imagined that the darkness inside of his eyelids was a calm white. He cleared his head of all the thoughts going through it. Who was that girl? Why did Voldemort kill her family? What did Voldemort want to know?
Harry pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes. He had to relax. He didn't want to be sucked back into Voldemort's head. He didn't want to be angry anymore; he wanted his own feelings when he wanted them. Harry hated this curse. He cleared his head completely and drifted off to another sleeping spell, one without the dreams of hate and destruction; he dreamed of nothing.
~*~
Harry woke up. It seemed to him that only seconds before he had fallen asleep. He pushed himself out of bed and headed downstairs. Aunt Petunia was at the stove, a sour look was on her face. She brought the pan from the fire and set it on the table. Uncle Vernon reached across the table and snatched a piece of bacon with his fork. Dudley, on the other hand, had a look similar to his mother's on his face. Another diet, Harry thought. His cousin Dudley was huge; he was about the size of a baby elephant, but he had the features of a pig. He would eat anything any time, his eyes were watery, like his father's, and his nose looked almost like a snout of a suckling.
Harry sat down and quietly asked, "Aunt Petunia, may I please have a rice cake and peanut butter?" His aunt tossed a rice cake and a jar at him. Harry silently spread the brown paste over the disk. Dudley let out a shriek. Harry wondered what he had done, but his aunt was the one that made his cousin squeal; she had just placed an apple in front of her son.
"What the bloody-"
"Not in front of a lady son," Uncle Vernon corrected, "it's not polite."
Uncle Vernon was surprisingly docile to Harry. Maybe he got a promotion, he thought. Uncle Vernon leaned over to Harry and said, "Another ruddy owl came today, and a letter came with it, says you're going somewhere for the rest of the summer."
"Give it to me," Harry said, his voice was filled with happiness. He was finally going to see his friends again.
Uncle Vernon handed the card to Harry. In gold letters it read,
In remembrance of our beloved friend, Sirius Black, there will be a Memorial Service in his honor today.
Harry took a bite of his breakfast, the peanut butter suck to the roof of his mouth. He flipped the card over and in small black handwriting it said,
Harry,
This card is a Portkey. It leaves at three o'clock. Get your things together, and hold on to them so that you can move into Grimmauld Place for the rest of the holiday. You are speaking at this service, so get some material together for reciting.
Remus Lupin
Harry looked at his watch; it was ten o'clock. "I'm going to go pack," he announced to the Dursleys. "I won't be back until next year." Harry shoved the rest of his rice cake into his mouth and he ran up the stairs, card in hand.
When he got upstairs, Harry dove for the loose floorboard and ripped the plank away revealing his stash of things important to him. He carefully removed the broken shards of glass and wrapped them in a piece of parchment along with the frame of the mirror. He grabbed the Potions Master, his Invisibility Cloak, the Marauder's Map, his photo album, and his schoolbooks. He gently placed the mirror at the bottom of his trunk, and put his books in next, followed by the photo album and the Potions Master. He picked up the Radfly which had fallen to the floor and tossed it in his trunk. He placed his pewter cauldron carefully into the wooden chest, he put the Invisibility Cloak and the Marauders' Map in it, and he ran to his closet. He grabbed some jeans, his school robes and some shirts; he put the jeans in the cauldron and the rest he placed next to it. He found his dress robes and laid them on his bed.
Harry pulled his bag from the bottom of his trunk and took out his eagle feather quill, some ink, and a piece of parchment. He started to write.
About an hour passed, Harry's parchment was filling up fast. He glanced at his watch, it was twelve thirty. He looked at his emerald green dress robes; they were dusty and dirty from not being used in two years.
He thought. Harry dared himself to do something that he had never dared before.
Harry carried the robes down the stairs and crossed the parlor to where Aunt Petunia was sitting. "Aunt Petunia?"
"Hmm?" she looked up from her paper and stared at the clothing in Harry's arms.
"Aunt Petunia," Harry said again, "Do you mind washing and ironing this for me?"
His aunt was fixed on the robes, "Where did you get that beautiful cloth?"
"I bought it from a store for wizard and witch clothing."
"Oh," Aunt Petunia pursed her lips. "Sure."
Harry was shocked at her reply, "Really?"
Aunt Petunia looked at Harry straight in the eye, "On one condition," Harry suddenly became nervous, "If you send me some cloth like that for Christmas, I'll wash it and iron it for you."
"S-sure," Harry was surprised at Aunt Petunia's generosity. "I promise that I'll send you some. Thank you."
Aunt Petunia took the robes from Harry and he watched as her bony body carried them to the laundry room. His aunt was never that nice. Maybe she's just like that when Uncle Vernon's around, Harry thought.
Half an hour before three, Aunt Petunia brought the robes to Harry's room. She also had with her a jar of hair gel. "I saw that card," she said to Harry, "Wasn't Sirius Black that man that escaped from prison a few years ago?"
Harry looked up from his speech that he was going over, "Yes he was, but he was also-"Harry stopped. How was he supposed to tell his aunt about his relation to Sirius? Just tell her, he told himself. "Sirius was my godfather. He was wrongly accused, and he was a close friend."
Aunt Petunia stared at Harry, "I'm sorry for your loss." She handed the items to him and left the room.
Harry pulled his robe on and went into the bathroom. He looked at his reflection, and unscrewed the cap to the hair gel. "I doubt this will do any good," his image said to him. Harry dipped his fingers into the cold jelly and applied some to his hair. He took a comb and slicked it back; Harry did not like the look this gave him at all, and as if his hair heard him, it sprang back to its natural position. "Oh well." Harry put the cap back on and left the tiny pink room.
He looked at his watch, fifteen minutes left. Harry threw the rest of his things into his trunk. He shoved his wand in his pocket and grabbed Hedwig's and the ebon's cages.
He took the invitation and his speech into his hand and stared at his watch. Ten minutes. He quickly ran downstairs and grabbed some rope from the cupboard under the stairs. After practically jumping up the stairs he tied the birds' cages, his broom, and his trunk together. He shouted "I'm leaving!" and closed his bedroom door. He held onto a handle of his trunk and the parchments as tightly as he could.
He again looked at his watch, three... two... one. Harry felt as if something was pulling him from behind the naval. His hair whipped around, and his robes flapped in the wind. Harry gripped his things even tighter than before, afraid that he might loose them. Then it all came to a stop. Harry was standing in front of number twelve Grimmauld Place.
The door opened and Remus Lupin came running out. His brown hair had small streaks of silver in it, and his young face had the signs of aging, an astonishing feat to accomplish. "Hello, Harry," he said warmly as he grabbed Harry's belongings. "Glad you could make it! Why don't you go around back? I'll take your things."
Harry nodded and went around the old house. The building looked as if it could fall apart at any minute. Harry was amazed at how beautiful the back yard was compared to the front. A lush garden surrounded the place. Flowers of many colors were planted in small rows and served as borders for the lot. In the center of the yard was a podium, and in front of it was a plaque with a picture of Sirius on it. Under the picture it read,
In loving memory of Sirius Black... Relative and Friend... Who risked his life for his allies.
In front of the podium were rows of chairs. Harry sat in a chair next to the aisle in the front row. He was the only one there at the time; he looked at his speech again. Butterflies began forming in the pit of his stomach, and he did not like it.
The chairs started to lose vacancy. Harry watched as the Weasleys came out of the house, Hermione was with them. Other members of the Order of the Phoenix came out of the building soon after. Members of the school staff, including Hagrid, appeared around the corner of the house. With a pop, Professor Albus Dumbledore Apparated in the seat next to Harry. "Good afternoon, Harry," he said.
"Hello, Professor."
Three chairs on the other side of the aisle were still vacant. Who could be missing? Harry glanced over his shoulder; everyone that he could think of that would be invited was present. A minute later a girl in black robes silently sat in the seat opposite Harry.
She had dirty-blonde hair that ended just below the shoulder, the layers and waves swayed in the gentle breeze, and one lone strand of hair stayed in front of her face. She shivered as yet another breath of wind played with her hair. A black choker resided around her neck. Harry felt that she knew her some how, she seemed very familiar.
Dumbledore stood up and walked over to the podium. He conjured a wreath of flowers and placed it around the plaque. "Today we are gathered here to share our memories of our dear friend Sirius Black..." The old wizard began his speech. Harry couldn't listen; his ears seemed to have shut off. His eyes strayed from the half moon glasses to the plaque. The engraved figure stared back at Harry, a goofy smile just like Sirius's was on its face. Harry stared at his hands for the rest of Dumbledore's speech.
Harry was snapped out of his trance when Dumbledore invited him to speak. Harry stood up and inched his way toward the podium. His paper shook in his hands as he began to speak.
"Er, I, I didn't exactly write a speech. I-I wrote a poem instead," he search the crowed for approval. His eyes locked with the girl in the front row. She nodded at him and he read,
"A pane of glass,
A breath of air becomes fog on the frozen window of time.
You trace your fingers on the cool hard pane,
And leave an imprint on life...
The fog slowly recedes
And all that is left is a streak of oil,
Your imprint...
A small representation of your mark on the world;
You.
Cleaners and others' hands will smudge the mark,
But when light shines through it
You can still see your symbol,
It has scarred the glass;
No one can erase it.
Life
Is like that in a way...
Your legacy is left behind
And others' lives are affected by it.
Some other people's marks will overlap yours.
Your memory can be forgotten...
But when some one traces their finger on that old pane or shed light on a flicker of a
Remnant
Of your past...
It can be seen by all,
Or only by
One."
Harry looked up; his eyes met the girl's yet again. She smiled. Mrs. Weasley let out a wail of sorrow. Harry looked at her and she wiped her nose with her handkerchief. He returned to his seat and the girl got up. She took up the stance Harry had just left. She looked at Harry; her grey-blue eyes startled him, as he received the full intensity of her view.
"Hello. My name is Selene Artemis." Harry then realized why she looked familiar; he, no, Voldemort killed her parents last night, and Harry had witnessed it. "I have known Sirius for three years. He would talk to my parents and me through Floo powder after he escaped Azkaban.
"He was a sweet guy, who always made me smile. He was brave, and he would have appreciated what we're doing today." Selene stopped talking and she drew her choker from her neck. She took out her wand and touched the gem on the ribbon with it. The stone was half white and half navy.
She then said, "Bade and Chaundra Artemis, would you like to speak?" Harry was confused by her actions, but he continued to watch her. He noticed that she had an accent. He concluded that it was American, just like her father's.
Selene slowly pulled the tip of her wand from her choker. Two glistening white strands were attached to it. She dragged the wisps higher into the air. The strands began to grow until they took the shape of a man and a woman.
The man had dark brown hair with small silver strands running through it, a beard, and a strand of hair fell in front of his face just like Selene. He had happy grey-blue eyes that were fixed on Selene's face.
The woman was slightly shorter than Selene, had dirty-blonde hair, and her face resembled Selene's in many a way. Harry's scar gave him a prick of pain, when the woman's eyes met his. He felt guilty that he knew how these people had died.
"Sirius had a great sense of humor," the man started. "He was confident and strong-willed..."
Harry's eyes traveled from the man to Selene, whose eyes were focused on the wood of the podium. She flinched as the ghost of her father wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Harry's attention and eyes were fixed on Selene. Does she know how her mother died?
The woman began to talk. "He was always having fun..." Now she sounds like a native thought Harry. "We'll really miss him," she concluded. Harry again had not concentrated on the speech being given.
The man gave Selene a wink, and the couple disappeared in a wisp of smoke. Selene put her necklace back on, and she solemnly walked back to her seat.
Other people spoke; Hagrid just bawled. Harry did not pay much attention the whole ceremony. He just thought about Selene. How did her parents know Sirius? Should I tell her about her mother?
Lupin was the final person to speak. After his speech he invited everyone in for snacks and socialization. Harry was happy; he was finally someplace he wanted to be.
~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Sorry for breaking up the story with another Author's Note, but I just wanted to state my Copyright for that poem. It is my work, and I'd appreciate it if you don't steal it or copy any line of it, same with the rest of the story. Any questions then contact me, otherwise enjoy my fan fic!