(Yesh, this has a point.)

This is belovedsoul. I'm sorry, but I will no longer go on any more. I've just entered secondary school (I'm 13 this year) and the workload, pressure and just THINGS I need to deal with are taking up all my time. I can't find the will to write, or the interest. All I think about now is … boys. And how to pass that Chinese exam I have this week.

I'm irritated with myself for dropping yet another story, and I'm sure everyone else is too. But it can't be helped. I don't even think about nowadays.

But the point of this is to make a proposal. Today I got a PM from someone asking me if I planned on continuing Silver Seas. I messaged back, saying no. But I felt this sense of loss at this carefully crafted plot going to waste.

So I'm making an offer. If any of you want to continue this story, or write a different version of it or anything at all, I give you all permission to copy and paste or take whatever you want from it and write it yourselves. You can even copy all the previous chapters and start writing from where I stopped. Just be sure to tell me about it so I can read it!  I want to see a finished story as much as everyone else. If you're so kind, you might also credit me accordingly.

I'm not sure if anyone would even want to do this, but hey, it's worth a shot, right? If you're even a little bit interested, then go ahead, I fully support you. But once again, tell me if you're going to! I promise to review, hees.

Well, I've got to go call that cute guy from the second row and ask him about homework. Ahem.

Oh, yeah. You can do the same with any of my other stories too, like BOTE. But again again, tell me about it!

Below is part of Chapter 8 that I'd written before I gave up. I just thought I'd post it, seeing as it's not being put to any use rotting in my folder.

Hermione woke up early in the day. Her body was damp with sweat from the hot, suppressing sleeping bag. Crawling out of it, she headed out to the beach, the cool air welcoming to her groggy form. She waded instinctively into the calm, refreshing water of the sea before her, continuing in until she was at waist level.

Her hair felt oily and rumpled from her sleep. Hermione ducked her body under the water, smoothening her hair and listening to the current of the waves.

Draco wondered why his bed felt so grainy. And lumpy. And so much like sand. Then he remembered. Climbing gingerly out of the uncomfortable sleeping bag, he stepped out of the stuffy tent and looked around. He judged that it was around eight in the morning.

The gentle, lapping sea looked so inviting. Making his way down to the shore, Draco splashed into the water. It felt cool against his hot skin. He lay in the shallow water, upper body resting on the damp sand of the shoreline. Then, suddenly, he saw something surface from underneath the cover of the sea. A human.

His heart jerked in his chest. Her.

Draco made to scramble up from his position on the ground, wanting to avoid an awkward confrontation. Unfortunately, the figure chose that moment to look towards his direction.

"...Malfoy." Said more like a steady, formal greeting than a request for confirmation. Draco cursed and willed her to turn around and ignore him. All he had wanted was to be alone for a few peaceful moments; to be able to relax without any annoying Gryffindors buzzing in his ear. But no. He just always had to meet the one that unsettled him the most in the most sensuous of times, in the most private and secluded of places. It was like some all-mighty, godly force from above was determined to throw them together, despite their obvious differences and hatred – like some insane, bloody tyrant. Well, he wouldn't stand for it. No, no, no, no -

"No," he said suddenly.

Granger was just standing there. She frowned at him. "'Malfoy' ... No?"

Draco slapped himself mentally, blundering around for an answer. "Ahem, yes."

Granger looked just as confused, but the beginnings of a smile played on her lips. "Yes?"

Yes? What kind of stupid answer was that? Draco screamed at himself. He was getting frustrated. "Whatever. Leave me alone."

Ah. Now that sounded more like him. Granger rolled her eyes and turned around, muttering.

"Gay freak."

What?

"I am not gay!" Draco screamed childishly at Hermione's back. "You're just being random and nonsensical!"

Actually, Hermione had just been being random and nonsensical. She knew Draco wasn't really gay, it was Dean she was suspicious of. She had just felt like throwing a pointless, completely untrue and stupid insult at him to see how he would react. Because it was simply fun.

"Yes you are," she said innocently without turning around.

"I am not!" Hermione could imagine him stomping his feet on the ground indignantly.

"Of course you aren't," Hermione replied, in the 'You're a perfect little angel, sweetie' tone commonly used to soothe toddlers when they got upset and everyone wanted them to stop screaming in everybody else's ears.

Hermione heard splashes, and felt the movement of the water as Draco stalked forwards. She could sense him standing behind her.

"I am not gay," he whispered forcefully into her ear, his breath tickling her neck and shifting strands of her damp hair.