*hyper bounce!* I got a full set of the British version of the Harry Potter books for Christmas! Well . . . they didn't arrive until around New Years, but . . . details, details.

It demonstrates the depths of my fanaticism--and the sad fact that I am doomed to be a member of that nation that claims to love freedom of speech and fervently embraces censorship--that just holding in my hands a book entitled Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone is enough to send me into transports of ecstasy. Well, almost.

Not a day goes by when I don't find further proof of my obsession with this series.

Why else would I be writing fanfiction, after all?

By now is there anyone who doesn't know that Harry Potter doesn't belong to me?

*looks around*

*crickets chirp*

Good.
**
***
~*~Animagi, Death Eaters, and Slytherins~*~
***
**
They were a strange looking group. Parvati had shrunk to nearly half her usual size and was covered in a light film of darkish brown fur. Draco was perhaps a bit smaller than usual, but looked otherwise the same--until one noticed the luxurious tail of long, soft white fur. Jamie no longer had arms, but instead a pair of large, deeply black wings. He, like Parvati, was about half his normal size.

"Sso . . . I sstill can't believe it. A dog, and a Labrador at that, not even one ass impresssive ass Padfoot." Two sharp teeth extended, showing the reason for Jamie's lisp.

"Shut up." Parvati returned sourly. "At least I don't suck other people's blood like some parasite." Her canines were rather larger as well, but no where near as sharp and pointed as Jamie, who seemed to be taking the 'vampire' part of 'vampire bat' a bit too far.

"Tsk. Is someone feeling a bit testy?" Draco looked amused. All his teeth were a bit sharper than usual, but none had changed to the extent of Jamie's or even Parvati's. "Who's Padfoot?"

"Just an old friend of mine that Parvati is . . . slightly acquainted with." Jamie answered easily. A bit too easily.

Yet another secret that he hides from me . . . at times like these, it's hard to believe he was ever a true Gryffindor.

Slowly, Parvati's teeth and her fur receded as she grew back to her original size. She lay back, spread-eagled. "That . . . transforming, even partially . . . really takes it out of me."

"It getss eassier eventually." Jamie observed. His wings shrunk back into arms and he began flipping through the journal. "For only having been doing this for about a week, we're actually pretty far along. Or so the journal says."

Observing the trend, Draco also allowed himself to return to normal. "Well, how old was the person who wrote this book? Maybe the younger you are, the easier it is."

Jamie closed his eyes, trying to recall fragments of conversation. "It's a good theory, but in this case, false. They were in fifth year when they accomplished the transformation too; I'm not sure exactly how old they were when this book was written, but if I have my dates right, I think the end of seventh year."

"How do you know this 'Prongs' person?" Parvati asked. "It's obviously a nickname. Is it someone I know too?"

"I ought to know Prongs. Know of him, at least. He was my father, after all."
**
***
**
"Halloween Masquerade Party." Lucia read the bulletin off the community board in the Gryffindor common room.

"Why am I not surprised?" Jamie asked wryly. "Does it give rules on magic use?"

"I expect it's expected." Parvati remarked. "Where would we find real costumes around here--reasonably priced--after all?"

"Parvati's probably right. The notice says something about all magical illusions being stripped away at midnight." Lucia read. "That way, people would then find out who it was that they had been spending time with."

"Yet another of Dumbledore's infamous attempts at promoting inter-House cooperation, I'm sure." Jamie studied the ceiling.

"And what's wrong with that?" Lucia bristled.

"Nothing at all!" Jamie sighed. "I was just making an observation. You may not believe me, but I'm really not out to get Dumbledore. I like and admire the man, I just have a slightly different view of him than you do."

Lucia's stony gaze showed that she was not convinced. "Regardless, I wish you would stop speaking disparagingly about him in my presence."

Parvati opened her mouth, then closed it. It hurt her to see the two of them angry at each other and she wanted to stop the argument . . . but how? They both believed that they were right, and nothing anyone could say could change that belief.

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Alright then."

"Good."

They both turned and walked away. Lucia up to the fifth-year girls' dorm, Jamie through the portrait and out of the Tower altogether. Off to find Malfoy, no doubt.

Working with the two of them on becoming an Animagus had been quite . . . illuminating. She doubted anyone else had even guessed at the depths of their friendship, even those actually privy to it through the Survival class. Certainly no one else outside of that class had a clue--both were accomplished at projecting the illusion that their rivalry was still as strong as ever.

She admitted she didn't see the charm. Malfoy might seem more approachable with a fluffy white tail and his face open as he laughed at, or more often with, Jamie, but . . . this was still Malfoy under consideration. Malfoy!

No, she could not understand why Jamie was willing to associate with Malfoy any more than he had to, much less why he would choose to share a secret so immense as the Animagus transformation with him; she could, however, recognize that this was so. She wondered if even Lucia knew how close the two had grown.

Then again, knowing how Lucia still flinched at even oblique mentions of the Slytherin, it would most likely be best to not even mention it.

On the other hand . . . Ron and Hermione would probably have heart attacks.
**
***
**
Jamie was not, in fact, headed directly for Draco. He stalked through the hallways, willfully suppressing his anger. Damn it, why can't she understand?! I do not live to put down Dumbledore! Why can't she believe me? The last, little more than a plea.

It had seemed like a dream at first. She would be like a sister to him; they could share everything because they had lived practically the same life. They would be like twins, except even closer. He remembered that one time when their combined efforts at Lumos had created a light so brilliant it seemed almost like a second sun. That is what it was supposed to have been like.

And, obviously, a dream was all it had been. For instead they engaged in this strange seesaw where they could go from practically reading each others' thoughts one moment to verbally clawing each others' eyes out another--and in two consecutive moments, even.

You're such a fool, Potter. Idly, he wondered when his little 'voice of logic' had started speaking with Draco's voice.

"Well?" Oh. That was Draco. "Stop standing around like a fool, Potter, and come on in." He realized with a start that he was standing in front of a doorway he had not previously seen, on the path to the Slytherin 'Tower' but not nearly all the way yet.

He blinked and followed his friend into a room tastefully decorated in black and forest green, with a little silver here and there. "What . . .?"

"My room." He answered simply. At Jamie's puzzled look, he spelled it out. "I'm a prefect, remember? I could hardly not be." He waved a hand regally. "So. Sit. Make yourself at home."

Jamie sat gingerly in one of the chairs--the same sort of tall-backed, barely-upholstered, supremely uncomfortable-looking monstrosity as decorated the Slytherin common room. And abruptly sprang back to his feet as he felt pleasantly warm, plush, soft cloth instead.

Draco burst out laughing. "The look on your face . . ."

Jamie looked from the chair to the laughing Slytherin. Chair. Draco. Chair. Finally, he managed to get out, "Are all the chairs in the common room like this too?"

Draco tutted. "Rule number one for being Slytherin--appearances can be, and usually are, deceiving. Now sit back down. I promise it won't bite."

He slumped back into the chair and sighed, partly in relief and partly to release some of that pent-up frustration--much of which had disappeared in the shock generated by Draco's trick chair. "Thanks. I needed that."

"So what's got you all worked up?"

Another sigh, this one wholly of frustration. "Lucia. She was being über-Gryffindor again. And then her Gryffindor-ness and the Gryffindor-ness of the Tower around me in general got to be too much, to the point where I would have liked nothing more than to scream."

A small grin. "So I decided to come down here, where at least if I started screaming, 'Gryffindors' would be an adequate excuse."

Draco grinned in answer. "It would, wouldn't it. And the Lair is soundproofed, so you wouldn't have a thousand people bursting in on you, thinking you were being kidnapped by the Dark Lord or something, either."

"That would be nice." Jamie hummed. ". . . unless, of course, I actually was being kidnapped by Voldemort."

"He'd have to get here, first." Draco pointed out. "And Hogwarts is impregnable."

"There are other ways of getting inside than just tearing down the walls. I doubt you honestly believe that not one of the students in the entirety of the school is working for Him. At the bidding of their parents, if nothing else."

"Here we go again, equating Junior Death Eater to Slytherin. I thought we were past that stage, Harry."

"When did I say anything about Slytherin?" Jamie demanded, stung. "In fact, I believe we've had this argument before. Yes, Slytherins are slightly more likely to be Death Eaters or Dark Wizards of the take-over-the-world sort, but they are by no means the only ones. The Dark Wizards are more likely to be Slytherin, yes, because the stigma against our House alienates them from the world, or because their ambitions--the ambitions that make them suitable for Slytherin in the first place--lead them to choose the power promised by the Dark. But I was speaking in general."

He folded his arms over his chest. "And there you go, just like Lucia, jumping to conclusions all over the place with not a shred of real evidence."

Draco regarded him expressionlessly for a long moment. "I detest being compared to a Gryffindor, but . . . you're right. I apologize." Those two words sounded like they were being forcibly pulled from Draco, but at least he said them. At least he recognized that the mistake was not solely mine. "In all fairness, though, can you really blame me? Less than a year ago, after all, you probably would have meant it that way."

"Less than a year ago, I doubt we would have been having this conversation to begin with. Certainly not in your rooms--after all, 'less than a year ago', you weren't a prefect." So Draco had apologized. That qualifying statement had nearly stripped away all the benefit gained. I would have thought that he of all people would have seen how much I've changed since then.

"All right! You've made your point!" Draco threw up his hands in capitulation, muttering something of which 'stubborn' was the only intelligible word. "Things, situations, people . . . they all change. I should have remembered and taken into account that you have changed, quite drastically, since then."

And for the first time, Jamie began to understand why it was that he had become such fast friends with Draco in such a short time.

On the surface, their friendship seemed highly improbable, even impossible. Slytherin and Gryffindor, a barrier that had melted away due to his own changes, but even the remnants of which ought to have been enough to preclude either of them from even considering entering into such a friendship.

Draco was, to put it simply, something of a spoiled brat. Having grown up the ignored and even derided cousin of another such brat had given Jamie a great dislike for the species. James Potter had been pureblooded, but as far as most people knew, Lily Evans, though a witch, had not a drop of wizarding blood in her--making Jamie nominally a half-blood, which one would think was an important consideration for Draco, considering how much the blond tended to harp on the subject at times.

Draco depended on his father almost completely, even allowing the man to think for him, it seemed at times. He seemed to be breaking away now--in their private conversations, at least, he hardly ever mentioned his father, and even in public his references had fallen off noticeably. Still, raised as he was where he, himself, was the only one he could depend on, that lack of independent thought bothered Jamie. He couldn't understand being willing to live that way--it was just too foreign.

Last but certainly not least, the great topic that they both skirted around but never directly touched, the last and greatest barrier that should have made any friendly contact between the two of them completely impossible.

Voldemort.

Draco was a Malfoy. His father--the man he apparently idolized and the one whom he would almost certainly follow in the footsteps of--was undeniably a Death Eater, most likely one high up in the hierarchy thereof. And Jamie was the 'Boy-Who-Lived', the instrument of Voldemort's first downfall and almost certainly Public Enemy Number One to all followers of the Dark Lord.

A great prize. If Draco were to betray Jamie to Lucius Malfoy, both Malfoys' positions with the Dark Lord would be assured. In no way should Jamie even consider trusting Draco. It was an incredibly stupid move . . . yet he did.

He doubted he would ever tell Draco exactly how much he trusted the blond, though. It was his way of compensating for his own stupidity in trusting in the first place. As it was, they both maintained an active stalemate--neither mentioned Voldemort or the Death Eaters; he sometimes got the impression that they were taking what friendship they could from each other while they could, as the shadow of Voldemort hovered just out of sight.

And Jamie began to understand just why it was that he was willing to accept from Draco what the other boy was willing to give; willing to give to the other boy only what Draco was willing to accept, instead of pushing for a friendship more solidly based, more stable. It was because Draco had done something no one else had done: he had, in his own offhanded way, accepted him.

He acknowledged the part of Jamie that was still Gryffindor, even if that acknowledgment took the form of relentless teasing whenever Jamie was acting 'too Gryffindor'. He actively nurtured the side of Jamie that was Slytherin. Most importantly, he knew that Jamie had changed, he noticed the change, and he was willing to adjust his perceptions to fit the new Jamie.

Most of his friends he didn't think had even noticed the change and those few that had, ignored it, interacting instead with their outdated perceptions of Jamie. Even Draco had fallen into that trap during their conversation just before this.

However, Draco alone had done something he would never have expected from the normally haughty Malfoy. He had recognized his mistake . . . and he had apologized. And that small difference made all the difference in the world. It made all the uncertainty, hovering blackly on the horizon, that plagued their friendship worthwhile.

"What are you grinning about, Harry?"

Sometimes, it was the small things that mattered the most.

"Nothing in particular, Draco. Just thinking how lucky I am to know you."
**
***
**
"Are you sure you want me with you?" Still immersed to an extent in her resentment of Jamie's constant putting down of the Headmaster--for that's exactly what it was, no matter how he protested otherwise. She had ears, after all, and they were in perfect working condition, thankyouverymuch!--Lucia almost didn't catch her friend's hesitant query.

"Parvati, why are you so nervous? It's just a pleasant" she stressed the word "afternoon tea with Remus, not anything of earthshaking importance. 'Snuffles' may not even be there--though you know I want the two of you to meet eventually. You're my best friend and he's Jamie's godfather . . . the closest thing I have to a real father in this world."

"I . . . it's just . . . what if he recognizes me?" She demanded. "He was an Auror, right?"

"Who, Remus? No, I don't think so . . . although I admit I don't know all that much about his life."

"No, Siri--Snuffles!"

"Perhaps . . . he does seem rather the type, though probably a great deal of his crusading attitude has to do with being wrongfully imprisoned you-know-where." Lucia shook her head. "I still don't understand what this has to do with him recognizing you. You were barely even born, then."

"Not me. My name. My father . . . he . . ." She trailed off.

Lucia cocked her head, puzzled. She really didn't know much about her friend's family life. Only that her twin Padma was her only sibling and that her parents were divorced and they lived with their mother.

Parvati took a deep breath. "Myfatherwasadeatheater." It rushed out, all in that single breath, nearly incomprehensibly. "So Snuffles might recognize the surname and then he'd think that I was one too . . ."

Lucia reeled back against the wall, trying to cope with her shock. Parvati's father? A Death Eater?! How was that possible? She knew Parvati . . . or at least, she had thought she knew her . . . and the other Gryffindor was about as far from being a Death Eater as one could humanly get. And she had one as a father? "How . . .?"

"How what, Harry? Please say you don't think I'm one too!" Through the haze of shock surrounding Lucia, Parvati's voice sounded frantic. "Because I'm not! I'm nothing like my father!"

Parvati a Death Eater? She almost laughed at the thought. "Ridiculous."

Hearing her own voice snapped her most of the way out of the shock . . . for a moment, she had forgotten that for nearly fourteen years of her life, she too had had a Death Eater for a father. And now she remembered too how alone she had felt when nearly the whole of Gryffindor had refused to associate with her simply because of who her father was.

Her voice strengthened. "Of course you're not a Death Eater, Parvati. The thought is absolutely ridiculous. And I'll soundly smack anyone who says otherwise. Why, I'd be more likely to go Dark than you. At least you weren't raised by your Death Eater father."

"Oh yeah . . ." She laughed weakly. "I keep on forgetting. We are kind of in the same boat, aren't we?" A small smile. "Thanks, Harry . . . for understanding, I mean. It really means a lot to me. I've . . . never told anyone else before."

"It was nothing." Lucia looked uncomfortable, realizing just how close she had come to rejecting her friend. "As you said, we're in the same boat. And we'll fight together for the glory of the Light!" A grin. "We are Gryffindors, after all." She started walking.

Parvati followed, eyes sad. Being Gryffindor doesn't make us invincible . . . or necessarily always on the right side. Living the life she has lived, how is it that she remains so oblivious? I think she knows that not all Slytherins are bad guys, but I'm not sure she realizes that not all Gryffindors are good guys.

Her friend whirled around to face her suddenly and winked. "And don't worry about Snuffles. If necessary, I'll smack him too."

Her somber mood was dispelled as Parvati began to laugh. No, the world's not as black and white as she sees it . . . but . . . she's still right sometimes. Together, how can we possibly lose?
**
***
**
The moment the two of them entered through the door, it began again. Remus looked at her for the briefest moment before his eyes flashed away, off to the side and down. His head bent only the slightest bit, but it was still a clear implication of submission and guilt and remorse.

All her irritation at Jamie roared back in and was directed towards a new victim. As soon as her friend made it through the door, she closed it hard. It made a very loud and quite effective slam.

"Stop that."

Werewolf and dog alike had wide eyes and almost scared looks on their faces as they stared at the incensed fifth-year. "Stop what?" Remus finally managed, eyes fixed on an area slightly to the right and in front of her shoes.

"Stop feeling so guilty. Stop avoiding my eyes as if you're scared to death of what you might see." She took his face between her hands and very deliberately locked eyes with him. "I don't blame my Remus Lupin; the circumstances involved made it entirely my fault, and I certainly don't blame you."

"I know." Quietly, his golden-brown eyes still locked on hers as if mesmerized. "But . . . it's hard. Seeing you is seeing evidence that somewhere, in some world, some version of myself actually passed the curse of lycanthropy on to someone else . . . something I had sworn never to do."

He searched her face. "Is my other self--the Remus of your world--really so different? Two years ago, I only accepted the teaching job because of the steady supply of Wolfsbane Potion available. Was there none at your Hogwarts?"

"Remus, you're one of the few people that, as far as I can tell, has not changed at all between worlds. My Remus made exactly the same vow, and I have no doubt that he would have never come to teach at Hogwarts if the Headmaster had not been able to convince you that the students would be completely safe from you on the full moon."

She shook her head. "Unfortunately, no one knew that when you transformed, there is a moment--in the middle of the transformation--before the soothing effects of the Wolfsbane kick in. And one full moon I was stupid enough to come try to find you for help with one of my assignments . . . and walked in at just that exact moment. It couldn't have been your fault."

Parvati sat on the floor near the big black dog and ruffled his fur. "I'm glad they're having this out now. Professor Lupin has been really annoying Harry with the way he constantly avoids her, which I hope will stop after this conversation. And, too, I think it's something he really needs to hear, whether or not he knows it. Don't you think so, Mr. Black?"

The dog stiffened and his hackles rose as he stared at Parvati. "Don't worry. I'm not telling anyone. I mean, I was ready to go running to the Headmaster shrieking my head off when I first overheard Harry and . . . er . . . Harry, the other one, talking about you."

Suspicious Look. "Okay, fine. I was eavesdropping. Details, details. Anyway, Harry--this one--took me aside and explained the situation."

Suddenly a man sat where the dog had been. "And you believed her?"

"Yes, I believed her." She began ticking points off on her fingers. "For one thing, I trust her to tell me the truth. Another thing--I trust Professor Lupin to be sensible enough to not hide a true mass murderer, whether or not he's an old friend from school. And finally, I examined recent events."

She spread her hands. "You're right here inside Hogwarts and have been for nearly a month--at least. This is the perfect opportunity for you to go on another killing spree--or at least knock the Headmaster or the other Harry off. If you were really a Death Eater, you'd do that because it would practically guarantee that you would be back in favor with You-Know-Who when you decided to return. Yet, I haven't heard of a single injury worse than a broken arm happening to the school as a whole, and Professor Dumbledore and Harry are both in perfect health."

Sirius leaned back against a chair. "Nah. If I were to plot killing anyone as important as that for the bastard, I'd wait until Christmas. Or at least Halloween. Especially if it was Harry--can you imagine? The Boy-Who-Lived on that day, dies on that day fourteen years later. That sort of irony is just perfect for Him."

"I suppose I ought to stick close to Harry--both of them--and keep them away from suspicious people this Halloween, then." Parvati leaned back as well, keeping her tone deliberately jokingly light. "Thanks for the advance tip as to when you're going to attack." A wink.

He shook his head in a rather approving fashion. "Even if she doesn't recognize the relationship on her end, this Harry is like a goddaughter to me. I'm glad she has a friend like you."

Parvati took a deep breath. Now or never . . . She liked Sirius Black and even if she didn't know how he'd react to her parentage, she also knew it would have to come out sooner or later . . . so it might as well be sooner. "Would you still say that . . ." She looked at her hands, afraid of what she might see in his face. ". . . if you knew my father was a Death Eater?"

"Are you a Death Eater?" His voice was gentle.

"Of course not!" She spluttered, head shooting up.

"Then no. It makes no difference at all." Sirius had a faraway look in his eyes. "I have learned some things, over the years." He turned to look at Remus, now sitting in a chair next to Lucia. The two were still talking in low voices. "Did you know that Remus' father was one, too? He was caught and given the Dementor's Kiss about a year after I was imprisoned in Azkaban, I think."

"I assume Harry has told you the entire sad story?" A nod. "That's why I suspected Remus of being that bastard's agent all those years ago. I was saddened, of course, but I figured that between being raised by one and being a 'Dark Creature', he could hardly not be a Death Eater."

A short, humourless bark of laughter. "Twelve years in Azkaban taught me just how wrong I had been."
**
***
**
"I guess there's been a lot going on in the story recently." Ron lifted his head from the chess strategy book he was rereading for about the tenth time to look at Hermione. Sitting in the chair across from him, she too was immersed in a book--some tome about theoretical magic that he was sure he would never be able to understand even if he tried.

"Story?" Hermione blinked. "Oh . . . are you talking about my little spiel about us being part of some cosmic epic? I was joking."

"So was I." Ron leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling. "Are you sure you're not supposed to be in Ravenclaw? They take themselves too seriously too."

Hermione just raised an eyebrow, pointedly ignoring the offhanded insult. "And some people don't take themselves seriously enough." She returned mildly. "So, what prompted you to say that, joke or not?"

"Oh . . ." He returned his gaze to her. "Just trying to remember one major fight we've had since that. And us fighting is a sign that nothing else important is going on, I believe we decided."

Hermione smiled. "So we did." The smile disappeared. "Unfortunately, that tendency to argue seems to have been passed on to the two Harrys."

Ron winced, having caught the edges of a couple of their fights himself. "Yeah. I really feel sorry for Parvati--she's almost always with Harry Evans, so she gets caught in the middle of nearly all of their fights."

Hermione nodded, her face sympathetic. "I've seen her . . . she looks like she feels so helpless."

"I feel helpless." Ron frowned. "You know, we're really not Harry's best friends in more than name anymore, so I don't feel I quite have the right to interfere. But . . . as much as I hate to admit it, the two of them are scarily alike. It's not right that they should fight this much."

Hermione cracked a grin. "Whenever I see them together, I always have a hard time refraining from asking Harry where he ordered a clone from--and where he found a scientific institute advanced enough to not only clone a human being, but to make him a female clone--and artificially grow it to the point that it was at the same age. You're right--they are really that much alike, at least in looks."

"Even down to the fact that they both have facial scars." As he usually did, Ron tuned out a large part of her scientific-technical-Muggle-speak--but whatever klones were, if they were people who were practically identical (and not twins by birth), the two Harrys definitely applied.

"There's something strange about her." Ron voiced once again his concerns. "I can't quite put a finger on it . . . but something is out of place about her." He stared at his shoes. "Which is why I can't quite believe that I trust her. Rather a lot, actually." His voice grew softer as he continued.

"It's because she's so much like Harry." Hermione supplied quietly. ". . . I know. I feel it too."

"No, it's not that." A sudden, violent shake of his head. Then, dawning comprehension. ". . . it's because she's so much like how Harry was. We both noticed how distant Harry has been, how much he changed over the summer--and I'm not talking about the purely physical changes, either. You've seen him, too."

"Sometimes, he looks trapped." Hermione stared into the fireplace, at this point in the day only charred logs stacked upon one another. "As if Gryffindor stifles him. And he's always disappearing."

"Hermione . . . you're not seriously trying to imply . . ."

A genuinely startled look. "You thought I meant . . . Goodness, no! Harry is strange and distant, but I can't believe he'd ever turn evil. Even if he were tempted, he has too much against Voldemort personally to ever turn."

Ron smiled, relieved. "Good. But, you see what I'm getting at? She may have chosen Parvati instead of you and I, and Merlin knows she has her distant moments as well, but as a whole Harry Evans is far more approachable than our Harry. More warm. More . . . more like Harry was."

Hermione nodded slowly. "Yesss. I believe you may have hit the nail on the head with this one, Ron."

An irreverent grin. "Well, you can't always be the one who's right."
**
***
**
"Are they still at it?"

"Yup."

"Merlin!"

"My sentiments exactly."

Lucia and Cho sat together, leaning against the wall, with too little energy left to do anything but just sit there and blankly watch Jamie and Draco spar. It was nearly the end of the class period, and in all that time the pair in question had taken only one break, and that a short one. "I've been doing this for over two years, and I still don't have as much stamina as he does."

"He's Slytherin. If anyone is perfectly suited for this sort of defensive training, a Slytherin is." Cho remarked.

Lucia did not try to hide her blank look, and Cho blinked. "Duh. You were talking about Harry! Sorry! Yeah . . . that is a bit strange." Her eyes narrowed. "Wait a second. You said you've been doing this for over two years . . ."

Lucia paled a bit, and hastily averred, "Back at my school . . . in Japan . . . we had a course very similar to this. Although we never learned with quite such intensity . . ." She frowned. "Come to think of it, all we really did was learn the basics of hand-to-hand and a bunch of relatively useful weapons. Just enough to boost our chance of survival if we ever lost our wands, but nothing so intense as this."

Cho nodded. "Well, there's part of your answer--you don't have much stamina because you haven't been in this sort of situation before--not even in your Japanese version of this class." Her eyes returned to the two sparring figures. "I still haven't the faintest idea why Harry does have that stamina, though."

"He disappears a lot." Lucia brooded. "I wouldn't put it past him to come up here and practice. 'Vati mentioned that she saw him, daggers in hand, when she came up to get her essay written for this class . . . Sunday, I think it was. Two, three weeks ago; whenever it was that that essay was assigned." She shook her head. "It doesn't seem like that long ago . . . time passes so quickly . . ."

"It does have that tendency." Cho agreed. "I still can't believe I'm in sixth year; it feels like just yesterday that I was boarding the Hogwarts Express for the first time, my heart in my throat, afraid and excited all at once."

". . . hoping desperately to be put into Slytherin, so that for once in my life my father would be proud of me . . ." Lucia's eyes had a distant look to them before she snapped back to the real world, indicating her house badge with a wry grin. "You can see how well that turned out."

If Lucia had continued to look at Cho, she might have noticed her partner's eyes narrow. Slytherin, huh? Somehow, I doubt there's a school in Japan that has a House of that name . . . if, indeed, Japanese schools follow the House system, period. What is your game, Henrietta Evans?

And why do I still trust you, despite that?

A bell rang, and Snape made his way back to the front of the classroom and clapped his hands twice. "Well, that's class for today." An evil grin found its way to his face. "Get a good night's sleep, everyone--for tomorrow, since you did so well with the last assignment (well, most of you, at least) I've decided to give you a bit of a challenge . . ."

Everyone groaned good-naturedly, although most of the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were also staring unabashedly at their Potions Master--that being more or less the most praise they had ever heard from him in all their years at Hogwarts.

Still grumbling, the majority of the students made their way out of the classroom, heading towards dinner or outside or to their individual common rooms, whether to study or goof off anyone's guess.

Jamie and Draco sparred on.
**
***
**
When they returned to the Survival classroom the next day, several significant changes had been made: The desks were now all in straight rows, with the same sort of blacktop found on the tables in the Potions classroom and in Muggle Chemistry labs; a blackboard had appeared at the front of the room, on which a title and a long list of ingredients were written in Snape's flowing script. Practically incomprehensible to the idle viewer, everyone in Survival had had his class for at least four years; if they hadn't learned how to read his writing by now, they would never have survived.

"This room seems vaguely familiar." Draco paused just inside the entrance, tapping a finger to his chin. "I wonder why . . ."

Behind him and to one side, Jamie took in the room with one glance and grinned. "Nah. It's still a lot warmer." He then gave his attention to the board, as the two of them made their way further into the room. "Veritaserum? Excellent!"

Draco gently smacked him upside the head--or tried to; Jamie ducked. "You're crazy, you know that? And too quick."

Another grin, this one cheeky and meant to be so. "I try."

In silent accord, once they reached their desks, they began taking out and sorting the supplies that would be necessary for the task at hand. "I remember that Veritaserum has . . . what was it? . . . a break, to let it sit for at least forty-eight hours at one point . . . right?"

Draco wracked his mind. "That sounds about right. The instructions when I looked over them one time seemed rather vague--between two and five days, or something like that. For a potion as advanced as Veritaserum, I couldn't quite believe that there was that much give, but . . ."

"So we won't be finishing today." Jamie nodded slowly. "About what I figured. Feel up to a spar after we finish?" A slow smile, promising mayhem.

Draco tossed his head. "Of course. I have to regain my honor after losing to you yesterday, after all." He showed his teeth in his returned grin. He stretched. "Besides, I've heard the best treatment for sore muscles is more of the same. And I am sore--fighting you is a lot harder than the dummy enemies from the last couple of lessons."

Jamie nodded his agreement, at the same time accepting the complement. "The dummies are beginning to get harder, though--they're probably programmed to increase in skill and power as we do."

Something seemed off about the black-haired Gryffindor. Draco peered closer. "What the--Harry, your teeth!"

Jamie blinked, and his canine teeth, larger and sharply pointed only moments before, returned to their original size. "Hm?"

"You're sponateously changing. Your teeth--they looked like they do when we practice for a moment there." Draco gnawed at a fingernail, absent-mindedly stroking his bushy white tail. He blinked, and looked down between his fingers.

Yes, he hadn't imagined it. A bushy white tail there was indeed. "I'm doing it too! That means . . . soon . . ."

Jamie's face reflected the enthusiasm in Draco's eyes. "Soon, we may manage the full transformation!"
**
***
**
Snape paced in front of a class that was currently paying most of their attention to their individual cauldrons. So far, everyone was about where he had expected them to be--except Draco and Potter, who were farther along than even he had expected. Mostly because they started early.

He would never have believed that Potter could turn out to be a Potions enthusiast equal to Draco. Actually, almost certainly greater than, considering that Draco's admitted 'one true love' in academia was not Potions, as most assumed, but Ancient Runes. One of the few things he was almost certain the boy had hidden from his father, considering Lucius' opinions on the subject.

'Useless, meaningless crap' was one of the gentler commentaries he had been subjected to when they were back in school. Not that he and Lucius had been close friends--hard when Lucius was five years ahead of him, a gap a bit too far to bridge at that age. Lucius' rants, however, had been to the common room as a whole--everyone had been subjected to them.

No, Potter was certainly not a Potions enthusiast the equal of Draco. In fact, he reminded Snape of nothing moreso than a certain other black-haired student that had graduated nearly twenty years earlier.

Discomfiting, finding similarities between himself and Potter's son, of all people. Discomfiting, and rather disturbing.

Unlike that first Potions section, this time there were no disturbances. As the last group set their cauldron aside for the cooling and gelling process--one that would take, as Draco had earlier noted, between two and five days, Snape cleared his throat.

"That is all we are doing today. We will finish the potion on Tuesday and test it." Suddenly white faces. He suppressed the (admittedly fairly small) urge to snicker. Surely they don't think I'm that evil. Do they even realize how many different poisons and otherwise non-ingestible substances can be created by just varying the recipe the slightest bit? "I will personally inspect each potion and substitute in a small amount of commercially-made Veritaserum for any that I feel are . . . inadequate."

Immediate relief. He began to pace. "Although, as you know, it is impossible to lie under the influence of Veritaserum, many of you may not know that it is possible to selectively tell the truth. If you have a strong enough will and the amount of the serum in your system is small enough."

Comprehension. "Indeed, that is what you shall be testing on the latter part of class Tuesday." The bell rang. "Class dismissed."

"Ready?" Draco asked, bringing his knife up into guard position as the classroom emptied. He grinned a mouth full of razor sharp teeth.

Jamie flipped his twin knives into the air, catching each in the opposite hand. "Whenever you are." Canines poked out over his bottom lip. "En garde."

Behind them, one of the last through the door, Cho paced out of the room, hands in pockets and deep in thought. A perfect chance to find out what it is that Harry is hiding and why.

. . . But do I really want to take it?
**
***
**
Pop!

"You did it, Harry!" Draco smiled, a smile that for once had nothing of the predator about it. Jamie, in his guise as a black-green bat, flapped his wings experimentally once or twice before taking off. "You know, though, those green eyes of yours are really weird looking. I'm not kidding."

The bat flew over to the full-length mirror propped up in one corner of Draco's room. There, he made a point of posing and preening for quite some time, before flying back over to his friend. He hovered in front of the blond for a few seconds before seeming to come to a decision and diving in to 'roost' on top of Draco's head.

"Oi! What happened to 'bats never get caught in people's hair'?" Draco cried, ineffectually swatting. Jamie leaned over until, upside down, his eyes met Draco's. He gave him a Look. Well, I was doing it on purpose. Duh.

"Grr. Two can play at this game." With a similar pop!, Draco was replaced by a pure white fox, too small for the black bat to roost comfortably on. In a huff, Jamie flew off and started hanging on the hangings of Draco's bed.

The fox leapt from floor to a nearby chair, then from chair to bed, and from there he began pouncing at the obviously irritated bat. It was not too long before Jamie began dive-bombing Draco.

What seemed like hours passed, as they cheerfully played and fought, turning the tables on each other quite frequently. Finally, they ended up in an exhausted pile on the floor, human again. "You know . . . we really ought to have contacted Parvati."

"She's read the journal nearly as many times as you and I. She knows what's supposed to happen next. Being so Gryffindorish, I'm sure if she had reached this point already, she would have come to us straight off. And we had to go ahead and get this over with--imagine what would have happened if I had grown my tail someplace where there were actually people around to see!" A nudge. "That's your Gryffindor side speaking."

Jamie struggled to a sitting position. "There's nothing that says Gryffindors can't occasionally be right about something, too."

"Sure there is." Draco said with a straight face, as he too rose from his previous prone position. "Many generations worth of Slytherins."

A beat of silence. Then, in unison, they broke out into helpless laughter, leaning against each other when they were laughing so hard they couldn't support themselves.

"It . . . wasn't . . . really that funny . . ." Jamie finally gasped. He laboriously made his way to his feet, still sporadically snickering. "I guess I ought to go, huh? Get back before too many people start missing me. It's been fun, though."

"Of course. The party's always happenin' around Draco Malfoy." The blond adopted a slangish tone before sobering. "It really was. Come back whenever, 'k? And I really do mean whenever. If you start feeling stifled by the Gryffindorishness of the Tower in the middle of the night even, come on over. I'll leave a little corner of the floor open for you."

A sanctuary, and one not dependent on time of day--the Survival room locked itself at night, as he had discovered that weekend in which he pulled several near-all-nighters. A genuine smile made its way to his face. "Thanks. I may take you up on that someday." Or some night.

Draco peered into his face. "Please tell me you don't snore?"
**
***
**
"So what's your excuse for being here early today, Mr. Potter?" Despite the acerbic words, Snape's tone of voice was relatively tolerant--he had actually more or less gotten used to the Gryffindor's habit of appearing for all his classes about an hour early.

"What's my usual excuse? Boredom, of course." He leaned back in his chair deliberately, although a loud creak caused him to sit back up in a hurry. "Nothing at all was going on except Fred and Angelina discussing--of all things!--wedding plans. They're planning on getting married as soon as they leave Hogwarts, from what I've gathered."

Snape frowned darkly. "What a horridly stupid thing to do."

Jamie raised an eyebrow. "It's not like it's precisely coming out of nowhere or anything. I mean, Fred asking Angelina to the Yule Ball last year might have been more of a joke than anything else, but as far as I can tell they've always been pretty good friends--and since they're both part of the Quidditch team, they're used to working together."

"Peace!" Snape held up a hand. "I was not speaking specifically of Mr. Weasley and Miss Johnson, but of the general concept of getting married straight out of school."

A very skeptical look.

Snape heaved an irritated sigh. "As fantastic as it may sound to you, I actually speak from experience."

Jamie blinked. Snape married to . . . well, anyone . . . was a truly mindbending thought. "What happened?"

"You know, the usual: a year or so of wedded bliss, my wife demanding divorce, me acquiescing because I never could deny her anything . . . her remarrying a few days later, giving her new husband a child a little more than nine months after that . . . nothing special." A sudden glare. "Why am I telling you this, anyway?"

"I slipped a bit of Veritaserum in your tea." Jamie deadpanned.

Snape threw a panicked glance at his desk where--wonder of wonders--there resided no teacup. "Ha ha. Funny."

Jamie smirked. "I rather thought it was." He leaned forward onto his elbows. "But your experience aside, it's got to work some time. I mean, look at my parents--they were sweethearts in school, got married just out of it, and . . ." died less than two years later ". . . well, maybe that's not the best example. But if Voldemort hadn't interfered . . ."

He stopped, fascinated by the unique sight of Snape's face going first red, then a strange color that bore the closest resemblance to purple that he had ever seen on another person's face. It was almost enough to make him want to cower, considering how big this verbal explosion seemed to be shaping up to be. The Potions Master opened his mouth . . .

And snickered. Snickered! Jamie's world-view tilted on edge as he tried to process the fact that his unflappable, completely serious in every way, never known to show more positive emotion that an occasional distant smile for his favoured Slytherins, really was currently snickering at him.

Frankly, the only thing that could have surprised him more at this point would be if Snape were to start outright laughing. He opened his mouth, found he had nothing coherent to say, closed it, reordered his thoughts, and tried again. "What's so funny?"

"The thought of Potter and Lily . . . together . . . during school." Snort. "The mutt would have clawed her eyes out!" A return to snickering. "Now that would have been an interesting cat fight to see."

Jamie surmised--correctly--that 'the mutt' referred to his godfather, Sirius. The implications took him a few more moments to process. "Er . . . my father and Sirius . . ."

Snape leaned back in his chair. "Ah, but those were the good old days. Unfortunately, I never did quite manage to get any rumours about wild Marauder orgies off the ground--Pettigrew was, unfortunately, just too blatantly straight." A very dark scowl. "He even had the gall to try to ask Lily out once or twice."

Wormtail was the only blatantly straight one . . . which meant . . .

The things you were never quite sure you really wanted to know about your parents' private lives . . . "My father . . . Sirius . . . and Remus?"

Snape had a misty look in his eyes. "I helped set up the betting pools on who would get married first, to whom, or whether they'd just shack up together for the rest of their lives . . . of course, no one was stupid enough to bet that Potter would marry a girl, and certainly not Lily. Which he actually didn't do until more than a year after we left school."

The Potions Master spread his hands. "Now do you see why I found the concept so amusing?"

Strangely, at no point in time did it occur to him that his professor might be lying to him; Snape wouldn't do that. It was such a foreign thought, Snape lying, even to him, even before this year, that it never even crossed his mind. Stretch the truth, perhaps, at times, but outright lie? No.

Jamie just continued to blankly stare. The things you never knew about your parents . . .
**
***
***
**
TURNEas, Creamy Mimi, katy999--Sankyuu! As you can see, I am continuing . . . slowly but surely . . .

Simone of the Zordiac--You know, until you mentioned that, it hadn't occured to me. Hm . . . well, for the sake of the fun scene it would cause, I would say that most certainly, Jamie's name will appear on the scroll. I'm not sure quite how often Snape looks at it, though. The Council-informing-Head-of-House scene will come eventually . . . I actually sorta meant it to be in this chapter, but then so much other interesting stuff happened . . .

New Marauders? Eh . . . not really. Draco doesn't even know Lucia is a werewolf, and I don't think Lucia and Parvati are really into teacher-torturing--they'll leave that to Draco and Jamie. Not Marauders, but they are about half of a group with a specific purpose . . . to be announced in coming chapters, of course ^_^

Y'know, the whole gift-to-Voldemort thing was made up totally off the top of my head . . . but if I ever make it to Christmas, I'm going to have to do something with it. It's just too good a joke not to miss. *maniacal grin* Yes, I can see Snape hiding his snickers. Tho' . . . come to think of it . . . he may not be around by then. Around Voldemort, at least.

The Jamie-as-bat was meant as a subtle dig at Snape swooping around like an overgrown bat' but, as far as I know, Snape's not an Animagus. And if he is, he probably won't be a bat.

Will the rumour get back to Snape? *chuckles evilly* Yet another of those ideas that never even occurred to me . . . I guess I keep forgetting that people talk off-screen' too. Now that you mention it, though . . . most likely.

What's Dumbledore doing? Besides planning the Halloween Masquerade and acquiescing to Fletcher's requests, I haven't the faintest. Knitting socks, perhaps.

Saturn's Hikari--How will they react? See next chapter. (In other words, no, I don't know exactly, either). When they transform is, I think, self-evident. ^_^ Nope, I didn't say about Draco . . . and I'm not saying now, either! The other teachers don't know yet . . . tho' I'm betting that the ones who see him with the Slytherins the most--Fletcher and McGonagall (I'd say Snape, too, 'cept he has a wee bit of a blind spot where dear Jamie is concerned)--will start suspecting that something is up.

Hey, Jamie has his gauntlets! Those are cool! But yes, he'll be getting a bit more cool stuff too, eventually. Parvati--er . . . *consults tentative list of pairings* . . . sorta important. Not really at this point. Lucia--I'd say so, at least moderately important.

~Mary~--Hope you're back at your computer by now . . . I know I get withdrawal if I'm away from my computer for too long (I think I've soulbonded to it . . . and I know my mom is soulbonded to her laptop. She's even admitted it!). Yup! I was hoping people would catch the whole earmuff thing--tho' you notice, it wasn't that he couldn't see at all, but just that he was back to Blurry-Land. The pseudo-echolocation thing he has going on is more a supplement than a substitute. As I said before, I ain't tellin' about Draco . . . which, if you think about it, is an answer in and of itself.

Mm . . . when I was writing the adoption scene, I managed to be simultaneously choked up and bouncing up and down in my seat. Strange. But fun. People'll find out eventually . . . quite a few people will find out quite soon, as a matter of fact. I'm not crafty at all either . . . but I am kinda cynical. Does that count? *puppy-dog eyes* Plus, I am just so tired of the endless pro-Gryffindorness that I tend pro-Slytherin out of . . . I dunno. Teenage rebelliousness?

I can promise you no H/G or Jamie/Hermione or Lucia/Hermione. I kinda enjoy H/Hr at times, but it tends to be really kinda mediocre for some reason. And H/G . . . urg. I tried to explain it away by saying that it was too cliche . . . but it's hardly that much more cliche than, say, H/D. Finally, I just had to admit that I just plain don't like H/G. And I have no idea why . . .

To top it all off, my younger brother ships H/G. *bashes head against the wall* And whenever the subject of H/D comes up, he insists on bringing logic and the whole neverever gonna happen in canon' argument. *bashes head against wall some more* I have more or less determined that Jamie is with a guy . . . but that's all I'm telling for now. And yes, in my story, Blaise is a guy, too. I always thought he was when I was reading the books, and it kinda stuck. (of course, this means that when I first read a Blaise-as-girl 'fic, my reaction was along the lines of What the hell?! Now . . . he's kinda androgynous looking, but definitely a guy.)

Whaddaya mean, Very odd'? Why do you think I wake up, sometimes as much as an hour before I have to be going anywhere, when getting ready only takes me about ten minutes or so, tops? 'Fics give an incredible high!

I got at least one present I've been wanting for-like-ever . . . *happy sigh* Philosopher's Stone . . . I shall write an ode to thee . . . or perhaps not. ^_^;;

Diana Lucille Snape--*grin* No, that works just fine! Gotta do my requisite ego-stroking, after all . . .

darkhaven--Aah! Expectations! *starts biting nails worridly*

And being compared to Mirror of Maybe . . . it's one of my favorite 'fics, period, and definitely one of the best written. If only Midnight Blue would update more often. (Then again, who am I to talk? I'll shut up now . . .)

I've read . . . the first two parts of Slytherin Rising, I think. It was good, but by then I had already mostly broken out of the mold . . . and Snape and whats-her-name got on my nerves. I have a very low toleration factor for nearly all forms of romantic pain and agony--a love triangle is very nearly enough to turn me off something I'm reading entirely, for example. Most of the time, unless it's very very good.

Mirror of Maybe had a lot to do with my conversion, but I think I actually started the process myself. Long, long ago, before I even started reading HP fics, I decided to write a Sailormoon/HP crossover. I had, however, run into a few things here and there that extolled the virtues of Snape and Draco. At the time, I was going What is the attraction? They're so . . . ew!

But I really wanted to understand why it is that so many other people liked these stupid nasty Slytherins. So I put my two favorite Sailormoon characters in Slytherin--that's where the fit best, anyway, loathe as I was to admit it at the time--and went about trying to figure out why it was that people liked Slytherin.

I ended up liking Draco and Sev, all right--after I put them through the Evil-Makeover-From-Hell-(Or-Inexperienced-HP-Fic-Writers). Now I look back and gag in horror. I've started rewriting it, drawing upon my new knowledge, but then I started this story and . . . well . . .

I don't like Dark!Harry all that much; mostly because I'm just opposed to him siding with Voldemort, although there was that one interesting 'fic in which he decided to set himself up as a rival Dark Lord . . . if only I could remember what it was . . . Slytherin!Harry, on the other hand, has almost got to be my favorite facet of Harry ever. Although I tend to favor a conversion over a flat-out AU most of the time, either way is fine.

Part of the reason you've gotten no hints is because I haven't been giving any. I know who I'm probably pairing Jamie up with (no, it's not Hermione), but I haven't quite figured out how to start the process rolling quite yet.

I love the Parafaith War! It's been a long time since I've read it, though . . . I think my absolute favorite is probably the Timegod books (Timediver's Dawn and the Fires of . . . something . . . I think . . .). I've read more or less everything by him, though--except the fourth and onward Ecolitan books and all his horror/mystery/whatever they are. And the books that have to do with ghosts. But everything else . . . and I've liked it all.

LoMaRiBa--I'm glad you think my portrayals of Lucia and Jamie are more-or-less realistic. I think their nicknames will eventually catch on, but right now, they are more or less the only ones who call each other those names. As you saw, here are Draco and Jamie's first transformations. Not terribly dramatic, I know . . .

You'll figure out Dumbledore's reaction to all this about the time I do. Heck, I haven't even figured out how much he knows, yet!

Muchacha--Something about this story just seems to draw H/D shippers for some reason . . . *blinks confusedly* Could someone explain this to me? *grin* Not that I mind . . .

Almost enough to make me want to write an alternate, H/D version . . . except it would completely change the story. I think I'm going to finish writing this version first, at the very least, though . . . so don't hold your breath.

ROGUE-sorceress--Yep. It's all Jamie's dragon side's fault. By Draco's habit, I meant the way he kept snitching stuff. The little jewelry box looking thing that he slipped into his pocket in the Polyjuice scene . . .

What I really want explained, though, is that scene in the bookshop. Why in the world did he just rip that page out? Why not just snitch the whole book? *eyes go crossed as attempt to understand movie-Draco fails*

Yeah. Go Slytherin!Harry!

tima--*nods* Fellow dragon-lover here! Kate Forsyth, hm? I may have to look her up . . . Have you ever read Song in the Silence, by Elizabeth Kerner? Or Secret of Dragonhome by John Peel? Or The Last Dragonlord by Joanne Bertin? Or any of the Pern books? Those are some of the good dragon books that come to my mind . . .

Crydwyn--I may not have said so explicitly, but Jamie gave Parvati the book mostly because I think he realized that she was in more of a position to be a consistent help to Lucia than he was--especially with how much they argue nowadays.

The time of the Serpent Guardian approaches . . . blood relationship to Snape is perhaps not implied in this chapter, but Jamie at least now knows that not everything was necessarily the way he thought it was, as far as his parents' relationship is concerned.

I love AUs! Um . . . if you surf through my Favorite Stories list, there should be several. S.L. has written a couple more than the one I have on my FS list, so you might want to link to her author profile, too. Um . . . neutral has at least one and I think Piriotessa has a couple. They're both on my Favorite Authors list. Basically, I usually read a story, link to their author profile, read any other interesting stories of theirs, go to their Favorite Stories lists, and repeat the process.

Unfortunately, I'm afraid I've probably read most of the best ones by now . . . *pout*

Jamie is very Slytherin, but there are still parts of him that he labels as Gryffindor; parts of him that I rather doubt will ever seriously change. So I think he'll remain kinda a merging of both--but definitely on Slytherin's side.

Merry Christmas works. And a belated one to you, as well!

MistWalker--Draco will be getting his dagger pretty soon. *evil chuckles* As for why Michael's father is interested . . . let's just say that he has something personal against Voldemort and would dearly love to have the bastard's claims of being Slytherin's Heir firmly and pointedly proved false. The fact that it is a Gryffindor'--if a very unique one--that does it will just add insult to injury. *smirk*

Shades--Sorry! No H/D. I said so in the beginning and I've kept my resolution. Maybe next time or next story. Glad you like it and more will be forthcoming. Eventually.

Saavik--I thought Jamie really ought to have somewhere he could call home. I mean, come on, the Dursleys? At this point in time, Snape is completely clueless. *evil grin*

What took so long? Um . . . I don't remember . . . life. I don't have much of one, but certain parts (*coughreadingotherpeoplesfanfictioncough*) take up a great deal of my time.

Spiritfox--I am glad you feel that way. Sorry about the textbookishness--it's probably connected to what my mom calls my tendency towards airy persiflage'. Whenever I'm not completely sure of what I'm talking about, I tend to use more and larger words than necessary in order to try to mask that. I try, but it's so much a part of my style that often, I don't even realize I'm doing it.

Pagan witch--You know, when I first started thinking about this story, it was originally going to be solely about Lucia. Then I realized just how bored I'd get with essentially rewriting the books after a while. And, since I like AU stories so much, I branched out onto the thought, Well, what if I throw canon!Harry into her world? Which led naturally to What if I throw her into canon!Harry's world? and on to this story.

I'm very impatient, too, which makes me wonder why I'm taking so long . . . except that invariably when I set out to write a story, it ends up twice as long and much more convoluted than I intended. Which is a serious problem if you have a two page limit . . .

I think Jamie has enough of a sense of humour that if Ron started making vampire bat remarks, he'd be more likely to just start laughing like crazy. Which, in turn, would probably make Ron think he was crazy . . .

Although it may not seem like it on the surface, I have a problem with stories in which Harry suddenly becomes Slytherin because he discovers his father was one. I'm trying to keep Jamie's Slytherinishness more a Jamie-thing than a Snape's-son-thing, tho' I'm not sure how well I'm succeeding. Lucia, while she is also her Snape's child, is quite firmly Gryffindor. I mean . . . if growing up a Malfoy didn't make her a Slytherin, I can't see how some minor thing like genetic make-up could do any better.

Mystic Shadow--*blushes* That's a wonderful compliment, you know?

I don't really like Evil!Harry all that much . . . and I wouldn't know how to do punk-rocker-style if I tried. Besides, that's just a bit too drastic of a personality change over such a short time, I think. As for making Slytherins good' . . . been there, done that. If you want to be horrified by Nice!Draco and Happy!Snape, I highly recommend another of my stories, Heart of the Serpent (incidentally, it is also a Sailormoon crossover . . .). A revised, more Real!Slytherin-friendly version is kinda-sorta in the works, but I haven't seriously worked on it since July or August . . . cause I'm concentrating on my straight HP story(ies) instead. None of the revised chapters are even posted yet.

It has its occasional good points, but it is painfully obvious that I did not have any real experience with the more three-dimensional Slytherin of fanfiction, reading or writing. *shudders* Thank goodness that's changed . . .

10 January 2003