Maybe someday I'll be a famous author and make lots of money off of characters that I actually own. Until then, I'm here.
Oh no! I'm behind again. Honestly, I can try to get out a chapter a week, but it's not looking too likely at the moment. By the way, I happen to despise this chapter with a passion. It's a filler, and somehow, getting these people down to dinner was downright impossible. But I can't bring myself to throw away 11 pages, so here it is anyway. We'll see if we can get this story going again with a 'bang,' yeah?
Oh, and StarzInHerEyes, I changed the part I showed you, so don't just skip over the first few pages, missy.
Finally, last but not least, I am in need of a beta. I know someone offered a while back, but they didn't give me their email or anything so…Oh well, so anyone who'd like to do this for me, just put your email address into your review, and I'll drop you a note, okey?
Okay, and for anyone as freakish as me…YAY! JKR's DOOR OPENED! Let's put it mildly and say that happiness abounds. (screams and jumps up and down write, Pinky?)
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Chapter 14, Crescendo:
James leaned back in his chair, pushing it onto the back two legs. He hung there for a moment, rocking back and forth, and almost balancing, then coming down again with a snap.
Professor Avogadro didn't turn his head. He didn't even pay tribute to the sound with a flinch.
Lily didn't turn her head either, but judging by the tight line that was her mouth, she wasn't happy about this. It was potions class, that Monday, the first of October, and James had been acting thoroughly flippant and completely arrogant ever since he'd entered the room. At least he's stopped whistling, Lily thought sourly. That was even more—maddening—than this is. It had been, too. A jaunty show tune that had made Lily, already tired from staying up late the night before, feel an intense need to throttle her irritating partner.
James tipped back again, just a bit farther.
"You're going to fall." Lily's voice was tight, and she again had to repress the urge to strangle James.
"Thanks for the heads up, Evans." Damn, but he was arrogant.
Lily snorted, "It wasn't a heads up; it was a statement of fact."
James lifted his left eyebrow. "And there I was thinking it was a Freudian analysis." He smiled at the surprised look on Lily's face, and pressed his advantage. "Although I suppose it could be a reference to Maslow's personality theory."
"No, if I had to describe you, I'd use Freud's theories. I'd call you a Freudian slip."
James frowned, knitting his eyebrows together. He took Muggle Studies, but usually they spent more time on household items than on psychology ("This is an electrical outlet. Never stick a fork into it."). But Professor Saunders had gotten a bit over-exited one class. She'd started throwing about the names of muggle psychologists and their theories as if they were quaffles.
James wasn't sure if the professor had actually described any of them, let alone this "Freudian slip." Ought he to bluff? The decision, however, was quickly taken away from him, as Lily interrupted.
"A Freudian slip is something not suitable for society," she said nastily. She did not squeeze the life out of James. But she wanted to.
James decided to be the mature one. He stuck out his tongue.
"Actually," a cool, indifferent voice interrupted, "a Freudian slip is when one yields to base desires instead of choosing the action considered suitable to society." Lily felt the tension, coiled tight as a spring inside her, wind tighter. This was excruciating. "Talking in class would be a perfect example. Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Evans, Mister Potter."
Lily looked up, her face coloring in embarrassment, no, in mortification. "Professor Avogadro, I was just telling Potter to put his chair down." She knew, the moment the words left her mouth, that she should not have said them.
The words hung in the air for a moment, swinging slightly, as Lily opened her mouth, trying to suck them back in, or say something else, or, well, do anything to dig herself out of the hole she was slipping into.
James stepped on her foot, causing Lily to emit a soft squeal of pain. She turned her head, and he shook his head minutely. If Lily said anything now, she'd only make the professor angrier.
"And another ten points from Mr. Potter." Professor Avogadro said in his usual voice, smiling thinly at Lily. If she hadn't known him, Lily would never have realized he was angry at all. But if she had any lingering doubts, his next words dispelled them. "As always, thank you, Miss Evans, for pointing out any and all wrongdoing on your partner's behalf. I'm sure the Ravenclaws, at least, are thrilled with you."
Oh, yes, he was angry. But why? Lily thought despairingly. Professor Avogadro held such high standards, in behavior, in work, in—in everything. He expected everyone to live up to them, but how could they? Lily fought the burning sensation from behind her eyes. Professor Avogadro was the only one who even knew the standards he was holding his class up to. And he'd never seen fit to inform Lily or the others.
Lily was used to being the top of every class. But now? Now she'd finally hit rock bottom. The glares of her fellow Gryffindors, and the sympathetic looks from some of the Ravenclaws told her that much. Lily Evans was at the bottom of the class.
Lily felt a knot form in the back of her throat. She swallowed, then again, harder, when the lump refused to go away. This was outrageous. She'd only meant to explain herself, but instead she dug herself an even deeper hole.
And there was Professor Avogadro, idling near the blackboard. He made no move to recollect their attention to continue the lesson. He merely stood in front of his class, surveying his students. And smiling. Infuriatingly.
The burning sensation was spreading, permeating Lily's throat and scorching her eyes. The knot pressed tighter, and Lily knew she'd lost the battle against her tears. She turned her head, not wanting James Potter to see her cry.
But he wasn't blind. "Hey, Evans, I didn't mean it," he said softly, first checking to make sure that Professor Avogadro was occupied torturing some other unsuspecting student. "Evans."
In a flash, Lily's misery was pushed to the background, replaced by a fiery and extremely potent anger. Lily refused to wipe her eyes. She glared straight at James, eyes bright with tears, a few of which slid down her nose, lingering in the folds of her face. "What makes you think I'd want to talk to you right now?"
James watched a tiny tear slip down off of Lily's nose, leaving a streak behind it.
"All you've done this year is follow me around, and I'm tired of it." Her voice went up a half-step in pitch. "You don't take this class seriously, and because of that I'm failing, and now even when I try to defend myself, I end up losing points!" Lily took a deep breath, and swallowed a sob. "And I don't know what to do; I've never failed anything before. I tried to be nice and just ignore you or anything, but Professor Avogadro is still failing me, and I don't know what to do!" Lily wiped her face furiously on her sleeve. She tried to regulate her voice to a more reasonable octave. "So," she began again, her voice steadying, "now you want to help? Honestly, Potter, I'd be better off helped by a warthog."
Professor Avogadro had astoundingly selective hearing. He was still seemingly engrossed in a lecture to one of the Ravenclaw students, despite Lily's outburst.
James shrugged. "Have it your way," he muttered as the bell rang to end class. The sympathy that had shown on his face only moments before was gone, replaced by his usual self-assured grin. He started for the door, yelling back over his shoulder, "And don't anyone forget about Quidditch tonight!" He left, and Lily was only a few steps behind. She needed to be out of the reach of her vindictive professor.
"How could I not remember Quidditch?" Alanna murmured sardonically, trying (and failing) to redirect the attention of her peers. They were all still peeking at the place where Lily and James had disappeared, out the door.
"You'd be surprised," came the sneer from Sirius's direction.
"Don't talk to me." Alanna didn't even bother to turn her head.
"So don't mock my friends." What, was Sirius determined to start a fight here?
Alanna turned briefly towards him, wanting to end this exchange as quickly as possible. "Oh, right…." It was her turn to sneer. "Some friend you've got there, making innocent girls cry in the middle of class."
"He didn't do anything to her. It's not his fault that she's so sensitive to a whole ten points there."
"Seriously, Black, we need the points Lily gets for Gryffindor. It makes up for all the ones that you and your group lose with your silly pranks." Alanna found her own voice escalating in volume.
Sirius glanced around, noticing for the first time that the rest of the class had left. Oh well, he'd had enough of Alanna. "You're not serious, that's me." He rolled his eyes and made his voice light, belying the anger that was pounding through him. He poked Alanna in the ribs. "I'm Sirius, remember?"
Alanna opened and closed her mouth, unable to get a sound out. "Oh, that's mature," she finally gasped. "Really witty."
"What, so now you think I'm immature?" Sirius's voice quickly regained its intensity.
"I know it, Sirius. Just like everybody else does." Alanna whispered.
Sirius looked at her, just looked. They stood there in tableau for a moment, then Sirius broke it. "See you at practice," he snapped, and was out the door in two long strides.
Alanna leaned down against the desk, gasping, and trying to ignore the throbbing bruise on her ribs that Sirius had just prodded. "Ouch."
She peered out the door, watching the students milling about towards their dorms or off to dinner. There was one with long, dark hair who could have been Sirius, but she knew it wasn't. He'd be long gone by now.
And he was.
Sirius stepped forward rapidly, trying to leave behind what had happened in potions. He hated that girl. How could she just assume she knew who he was? She had no bloody idea what he'd been through. Sirius reached his destination, a hidden alcove on the second floor, and climbed quickly behind the tapestry that hid it.
He sat down with a heavy thud and sighed, feeling the anger drain out of him. It was replaced by—nothing. No feeling, just his heart beating and his lungs inflating and deflating.
It was stupid, he thought distantly, how he let her incense him. All she had to do was show up, and suddenly he was the prick that she so often accused him of being.
Sirius breathed in again, and out. Not that it mattered anyway. He'd thought it had, for a moment, out at the Quidditch pitch, but that was false. He'd thought—but Sirius didn't let himself finish the idea.
"I thought wrong," Sirius murmured to himself, the words interrupting the steady rhythm of his breathing. "That's all there is to it."
Being wrong wasn't a new thing. Sirius thought back to when he was younger. He'd been happy then, no doubt about that. He'd had a father with a respected job in the Ministry of Magic, who loved to tell jokes, mocking and making fun of everything around him. Worse even than me, Sirius decided with a grin. His mother had always liked to spoil her two sons, and Sirius remembered wistfully how she used to drop him and Regulus off in Quality Quidditch Supplies in Diagon Alley. She'd give them each 5 galleons, and they used to run wild in the store, trying to examine everything before she finished her errands and returned. Sirius remembered how much fun it had been then, teasing his brother, just playing around. Not knowing anything.
Sirius felt the grin fall off his face. It dropped like a stone to lay lifeless on the floor. He hadn't known anything back then. He hadn't known that the people his father mocked so relentlessly were muggles, that the "mudbloods" he and his brother and parents had so often laughed at were people just like him, only with different ancestors. He hadn't known that his mother, after dropping him off at Quality Quidditch Supplies, always bee-lined straight for Knockturn Alley. He hadn't known that Regulus would never realize the truth about these things that they'd both always taken for truth.
Sure, he'd been happy when he'd been younger, but he'd also been wrong.
"You have no idea, Alanna Simmons," Sirius whispered. "I may not be mature, but I've come a long way."
He sat back, concentrating again on breathing. Just breathing, and feeling his heart beat. Not thinking.
He was still sitting there ten minutes later, when Peter burst through the tapestry. In his haste, he tripped, colliding with a shaken Sirius.
"Oh dearie me, Pete," Sirius drawled. "You really ought to stop tripping over that tail of yours." He was referring, of course, to Peter's animagus form, the form of a rat. The boys still hadn't managed the transformations, but they were almost ready. Finding out which animal they would become had been one of the first steps in what was proving to be an exceptionally long process.
Peter jut shrugged, though. "Would you like a little cheese with your whine?" he asked sarcastically.
"Aww, shut it, Wormy." Sirius left his brain shut down. He didn't need to think to banter with his short friend.
"Come now, be a good dog." Peter was smiling somewhat nervously. He usually tried not to verbally abuse his friends. Maybe it was because he hadn't had any friends before the marauders had taken him in. He always seemed so afraid to lose them, and go back to being alone.
"So, what brings you to my humble abode?" Sirius asked, gesturing vaguely at the space around the two of them. It was roomy, for an alcove. There were others, throughout the school, and most of them were mere dents in the walls. This one, though, could hold all four marauders with them hardly feeling cramped at all.
Peter shrugged. "Ah, you know." He lowered his voice. "I'm supposed to have detention with McGonagall later on. And, well—"
Sirius smirked. "You don't want to miss the show."
An identical grin appeared on Peter's face. Well, perhaps it didn't have quite the sophistication and conceit of Sirius's, but it was a decent copy nonetheless. "You know I don't."
"Well, you shouldn't worry," Sirius told him patiently, examining his nails as though he found them fascinating. "We're planning Part One at dinner, and detention won't start until seven or eight, right?"
"Well," Peter dug his toe into the floor. "Last time I kind of skipped. You know, I just didn't go." Sirius's jaw dropped. "And, well, McGonagall wants me to eat dinner in her room. So I don't get away again." Peter glanced at Sirius again, looking for his reaction.
Sirius screwed his jaw back on with an effort. "Have we taught you nothing?" he wailed in the general direction of the ceiling. "If you're thick enough to get caught, you ought at least to make it to the detention. Or the teachers will watch you like hawks forever after!" Sirius dropped his head into his hands, abandoning his dramatic response for a more reasonable one. "Don't be such a prat. Go to the bloody detention. Serves you bloody right."
Peter looked at his friend in surprise. This was most definitely not typical Sirius behavior. Sirius was usually laughing, and always grinning. He was a jokester, and his looks and disposition ensured him a place with any of the girls. But right now he looked downcast, and not at all the cheerful Sirius Peter was used to.
"Padfoot, are—are you feeling alright?"
"I'm fine," Sirius said, trying to inject his voice with some feeling. "Just tired. James and I were up all night getting ready for today, you know."
"Oh." Peter accepted the explanation without qualms. "Well, I'd better go find McGonagall, I suppose. Before she gives me another detention." He groaned, tortured by the idea of it.
Sirius nodded. "Yeah. If you see James, tell him I'll be down later. I just want to—get some rest—before we have to start up The Show."
Peter obliged, peaking out from behind the tapestry, then disappearing out into the hallway. As he left, he glanced behind him, and saw Sirius sigh, and lean his head back against the wall. No, he definitely was not acting like himself.
Peter trotted down the hall, heading away from McGonagall's office, contrary to what he'd told Sirius. But really, James must be out of his skin by now. With such a major prank coming up and less than an hour until it was to begin, he'd expect them all to be getting ready. That was not the case. Sirius was sleeping in a hidden alcove, Peter was going off to detention, and Remus was in the library "staying out of James's way until he calms down." At least, that's what he'd told Peter he was going to do.
Peter finally reached Gryffindor Tower, and he panted the password ("grindylow"). He entered the common room, to find quite a sight. James was pacing, muttering to himself, and shredding a piece of parchment into tiny ribbons. There were more paper scraps littered throughout the room, and Peter could help but notice that the common room was unusually empty. Normally, on a Monday night, most of Gryffindor House piled into the common room, chatting, working on homework, and procrastinating working on homework. Tonight, though, the few who were there were wedged into corners, not talking, and glancing anxiously at James every few moments.
James looked ready to blow.
"Hey, Prongs," Peter said quietly.
James blinked and looked up, making it obvious that he hadn't seen Peter enter the room. "Wormtail," he scolded, "Where have you been? There's so much to do! We've still got to finish setting up downstairs, then there's the lights, and the—" He cut himself off; "And where are Remus and Sirius? They should be here; you should have been here hours ago. Now we're down to the wire and this has to go off without a hitch."
James glared intensely at his friend. Peter flinched, and who wouldn't? He was the messenger, the one who'd get all the blame for the absences of both Sirius and Remus. Oh, right, and he was off to detention as well. "What's that you're tearing up?" Peter said conversationally, hoping to distract James from his evil quest for knowledge.
"Charms," James said dismissively, glancing fleetingly down at the scrap of parchment still in his hand. He raised his left eyebrow questioningly. Any moment now, Peter thought, he's going to put his hands on his hips, and start tapping his foot. He might have, too.
"Well," Peter said, trying one last time to stall. He took a deep breath. "Moony's hiding; he said he won't come back until you've calmed down, which you kind of haven't, by the look of things—Sirius said he's tired; he's sleeping in the sec—somewhere, and he really does look kind of sick—and I can't come to the prank at all because McGonagall gave me detention during dinner, and I'm really, really sorry." Peter sucked in a huge breath.
James merely looked at him, albeit dangerously. "You have got to be kidding me."
Normally, a statement like that would be rhetorical, but James seemed to be waiting for an answer.
"No," Peter said somewhat breathlessly, "No, that's really how things are."
James's only answer was to fall backwards, landing perfectly in one of the huge scarlet armchairs that adorned the common room. He put his head in his hands, echoing the gesture that Sirius had used only a few minutes earlier. His pose, though, seemed less desolate, and more stressful. Far more dramatic.
"Right, well—" Peter searched for something helpful to say. He came up blank. "Good luck, then."
And with those words, he fled.
Leaving James, sprawled in a puffy red armchair, waiting for the world to end.
Alright, not end, but close enough. Because the fact of the matter was that, whether Sirius, Remus, and Peter realized it or not, there was something wrong with their plan. If only James knew what it was.
He started up out of the chair, and began to pace.
He'd been over The Plan countless times in his head. He knew where the teachers would be, what the house-elves would be doing, and exactly what the marauders could do to—augment—a little bit of chaos and fun. But—James shook his head. No matter how many times he went through it, he remained convinced that he was missing something.
And his friends? Where were they? In detention, hiding, and sleeping? James frowned and picked up a piece of parchment. Potions homework. He shredded it viciously between his fingers. Well. They'd all been excited about the damn bloody prank, but they'd abandoned James just when the going got tough. Why, when he saw them again, he was going to bloody decapitate them.
Somewhere in the back of James's head, he realized that he was being unreasonable. Of course, he didn't heed that voice. It was always back there, in his head, telling him that part of why he was so upset was because of bloody Lily Evans hating him. It was back there telling him that he ought to be worried about Sirius, who was sleeping at six o'clock on a Monday evening. It was telling him that Remus had a good point, staying out of James's way until James calmed down a bit more.
But, damn, it was that same voice that kept telling him that he was missing something in The Plan, something that would make it go drastically wrong. And that fact, he wasn't even trying to dispute.
James took a deep breath, and let it out. Slowly. He placed the tattered potions homework back on a table, and forced himself to stop pacing. Another deep breath, and he was just about ready to pull himself together and get to work.
Five minutes later, no one watching James Potter walk brusquely into the library would have known that he'd been a nervous wreck mere moments before.
Remus watched his friend, noting this. James had honed himself, Remus thought, worked until he could hide most of what he was thinking or feeling. James's glib tongue and innocent looks had certainly helped get the marauders out of hot water on many an occasion. But sometimes, Remus had to wonder if all the masquerading wasn't taking something more, well, valuable, from James's own life.
But now was neither the time nor the place. James had clearly put himself back together, and with that done, they were ready to put into place the final preparations for the night's show.
"Pray tell, Prongsie, what's first on the To-Do List?" Remus asked his friend with a grin.
James smirked. "Just about everything. Although I'd have to say that finding Sirius would be a priority."
"Finding him?" Remus's eyebrows knit together tightly in thought. "Why does he need finding?"
"How should I know?" James snapped, showing that no matter how relaxed he looked, he was still quite apprehensive. "Pete said he was sleeping, and Merlin knows he's not in the dormitory."
Remus nodded, thinking to himself. "Well, I'll find Sirius, and you can do what you can without us, alright?" he said aloud to James.
"Fine."
Remus was off in the blink of an eye. He walked swiftly, still thinking. He was good at that, and he often found that waiting and pondering things for a moment often yielded better results than the rash action that his friends seemed to prefer.
So Remus walked and thought. He'd seen the beginning of an argument between Sirius and Alanna Simmons, but surely that wouldn't have had forced Sirius into hiding. Although—Remus blinked in surprise at the thought that was swimming about in his head. It was possible—but only barely. Remus pushed the offending thought from his head.
Coming to the alcove on the second floor, the fifth such hiding spot that Remus had checked so far, he resolved to keep the thought in mind. Maybe he'd find something to prove or disprove it soon.
Remus pulled back the tapestry, and peered inside.
There was Sirius. He was slumbering, to Remus's veritable astonishment. Yes, curled into a ball, breathing deeply and evenly was Sirius Black, sound asleep.
"Padfoot?" Remus whispered. Then, just a bit louder, "Sirius?"
Sirius raised his head with a snap, causing his forehead to collide rather heavily with a wall of the alcove. He jumped up, anyway, only wincing a little bit. "So, Moony, do tell, just how far off the deep end has our dear friend James gone?"
Remus grimaced at his friend. "Don't ask," he replied curtly.
Sirius just laughed. "He shouldn't worry so much. I'm sure everything will go exactly as planned." Funny, other than the fact that Remus had found him sound asleep in a second floor alcove, he seemed exactly the same as he always was. Remus just shrugged to himself, though. If something was wrong, he'd find out later, and if not, it didn't matter anyway. But for now, they were both due at dinner.
James met them just outside the doors to the Great Hall. He seemed to have finally gotten himself under control. It was just like always; he'd flip out right before a large prank, but when the time finally came to carry the prank out, he was always calm and collected.
"So, Prongs, you look moderately human again," Remus observed with a laugh.
James donned a supercilious expression. "Well," he said mockingly, "someone has to worry about all the details." He saw his two friends' expressions, and couldn't stifle a laugh. "And, plus, it's bloody brilliant, watching everyone run away."
"Now you joke about it," Remus said warily, "but it's actually quite a traumatic experience for the rest of us."
James opened his mouth to reply, but Sirius beat him to it. "Give it up, Prongs, you know as well as the rest of us that you're a bloody terror right before a prank. But let's not dwell in the past." He smirked, and swept past his two friends, into the Great Hall. "After all, dinner awaits."
James made a face at Remus. "I may be a bloody terror before a prank, but he's one 'round the clock."
"I feel so left out," Remus said with a fake pout.
"Don't. You're a bloody terror when the moon is full, yeah? And as for the rest of the time, we're working on you."
"That might not be such a good thing," Remus said, but James had already walked in to dinner. With a shrug and a grin, Remus did the same. After all, by the time this month was over, he might well be a certified 'bloody terror.'
He walked in and sat at the Gryffindor table, right between Sirius and James. They smiled at eachother, and picked up their forks to start eating.
BANG!
Of the thousand students and teachers in the Great Hall, only three of them managed not to so much as flinch.
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Okay, I've got 45 reviews to catch up on here, and I've realized that it's just not possible. I'll try, but, well, no promises. So here are some of the very oldest ones….
Reena-blue: I loved your review. You seemed really—honest. I got some nice, constructive criticism, and I really hope you'll keep reviewing and helping me out.
Borg: Okay, well, you're not reading this, as you were my first (and only, so far) flame. For everyone, Borg said he didn't like the way I reviewed. He told me so by sending 11 identical, anonymous flames. Which made me laugh, because Borg seems to have a little problem practicing what he preaches. (And weird, because I've never written a negative review…if I don't like something, I stop reading it…)
Blink182Rox: Why thank you.
Gaby-Black: Why is James arrogant? Might as well ask why the sun shines, or the wind blows, or—okay, I'm kidding. Hmm, well JKR said arrogant so there it is.
Eggo Waffles: There's a taste of the "horrors" in store for Lily in potions…There'll be more, I promise you that.
StarzInHerEyes: Wow, that's a really old review…way back before Charlotte's Web was over, and before you ever started your fic…wow.
Andy: Okay, I'm replying to a review from chapter 9. Wow, that's old. Well, I'm glad I cracked you up, hmmm? Hope I can do it again.
A Cute But Psycho Bunny: Oh, I loved your description of Professor Avogadro as "cool, calm, collected, self-assured, I'm-up-on-my-high-horse-and-I'm-staying-there-whether-you-like-it-or-not." He's a really fun character to write.
SiriuslyFun19292: YES! I couldn't agree more. No character deserves to be shunned like "moldy old bagel." Characters should be real, even if they only appear for a moment or two. You still have to believe that they keep existing and thinking and doing things, even when you're not looking at them.
DobbyGrl: I'm glad you liked gulp chapter 10. Goodness, that was a long time ago.
PinkytheSnowman: Avogadro, dear, not avocado. I like avocadoes, but I like Avogadro better. It's one of my two favorite last names. (Last names that real people had)
Kimberly-Grace: Okay, this is from before you changed your name…thanks for the candy bar, and I'll have you know that the deadly poison in it didn't kill me…
And some more recent reviews from y'all. (keep looking, even if your name was above, I'm replying to each review separately, based on when it came in. So your name could come up several times…)
StarzInHerEyes: Darn! We got you all mortally embarrassed at Friendly's, right in front of your crush, and then you have to go and not like him anymore?! You terrible, terrible person. (Kidding, dearie, kidding). And anyway, there's no rule that says that fifteen-year-old girls can't sit at Friendly's, coloring in the kids menu. At least, I don't think there is…
TheLovelyLadyLily: Thanks, I'm glad you liked the chapter. And your theory, well, it may have some merit. But I'm not about to make things easy for Sirius.
As to your review for the chapter before that (chapter 12), wow, you've got some nice foresight. Maybe.
As for your review for the chapter before (chapter 11)…nice guess. The problem—well, you'll find out soon enough. I can tell you that you're close, though.
And the chapter before that (chapter 10)…You don't like Avogadro? Well, he's wickedly fun to write. And he's got his work cut out for him.
Okay, for chapter 9…yes, Potter Charm. Or curse, I suppose. It could be either.
For chapter 8…I'll consider the pointy objects. I'm quite partial to them, myself.
For chapter 7….Wow, three languages? I'm stuck with English and French. And my French teacher finds devilish pleasure whenever I get a 99 on a test or something. Because I'll get a 99 on one little test, and BANG I've gotten a 99 for the marking period, instead of 100. And my French teacher loves my reaction to that…
For chapter 6….oh, I know a few people who can kill with looks (and not in the wizarding world)…but Lily's too—um, law-abiding to hurt anyone that way…
For chapter 5…yeah, James is arrogant. It's fun to write him that way, and that's what JKR said so…
For chapter 4….glad you liked the prank.
For chapter 3….yep, I'm trying to figure out how to really portray Sirius. He can be goofy, but there's something in there, too.
For chapter 2….you weren't going to review all the chapters? Well thanks for all the reviews, even if I'm writing a whole page of responses to you here.
For chapter 1…LAST ONE….Australian, hmm? That's neat. Okay then, I'm going to move on now.
DobbyGrl: Nice prediction. Maybe it's even correct, but I'm not saying.
For chapter 12….aarg, I hate when computers don't work. It makes me want to throw them out windows, but the repair man said that usually doesn't help much…
A Cut But Psycho Bunny: Hmm….Well, as with everyone else's predictions, I'm not telling if it's true. Oh, and I have it on authority from someone who lives in Romania that Dracula was actually a nice guy. But he's not there anymore.
AvId PiAnIsT: Again, nice prediction, we'll see if your bones are good at divination…
Jersey Princess: Okay, got it. Thanks for the little lesson in British language. Pants are underwear, trousers are pants, pants are underwear, trousers are pants…got it.
PinkytheSnowman: Oh, you haven't even got a guess as to Sirius's problem? Have a looksee at the other review then, they've all got ideas. (maybe not the write ones, but they do have ideas.)
Tanya J Potter: You want to know if Avogadro is good or evil? Well, the world isn't divided up into good people and death eaters…Avogadro—he plays by his own rules. Good and evil don't really apply to him. Well, he doesn't think so.
Kimberly-Grace: (from chapter 11) YOU DON'T LIKE CHOCOLATE?!!! Drops into a dead faint.
Eggo Waffles: Yes, well, the performances went well, thanks very much. So now I'm doing stage crew for the spring musical, so things'll just keep getting busier. Thanks for the review.
DobbyGrl: (for chap 11) Thanks for the well-wishes. Drama was great. Can't wait for your next review, yeah?
Gaby-Black: That's right, I haven't seen any updates from you recently. You have to fix that, hmm? Can't wait to see what's going to happen.
PinkytheSnowman: (for chap 11) Sparkly things. All for you, and lots of them, okay? There you go. And I think you're kind of like James, (good James, after he deflates his head). He's going to be pretty cool once he loses the arrogance. And you're pretty cool, so there you have it.
NO WAY! I replied to all the reviews. Whew. It took a while, too. Well, enjoy the chapter, and look for the next one, it'll be coming as soon as I get a moment.
manchot du destin