Chapter 17- Agreements and Arguments
The beginning of December meant the beginning of serious preparation for the ball. Which naturally meant that Lily was one step closer to panicking. Head Girl duties aside, she still had to find dress robes and shoes and other things. She had to calm down Morgan, reassure Alice, and stifle Ryan as needed. She had to…
"Bloody hell."
…figure out how to work a proper clothes transfiguration spell.
Ryan stifled her laughter, but Morgan was not so successful. "What the hell are you trying to do, Lily?"
Lily huffed, waving her wand and attempting to reverse the spell she had just cast. The only served to make the situation worse, and not even Alice could managed to stifle a quiet snort of laughter. "I'm trying to transfigure a set of robes so that I won't have to buy new ones for the ball. Obviously, I'm not very successful."
"Why do you want to just transfigure them?" Morgan asked.
"Because paying for a set of dress robes that I'll probably only wear once or twice isn't my ideal use of money," Lily said, glaring down at the disfigured lump that had once been an old set of robes. Good thing I still had an old set laying around.
"Here, Lily," Ryan said, pointing her wand at the lump. The lump restored itself to its original state as a pair of robes. Naturally. All of the Marauders were amazing when it came to Transfiguration. Ryan looked up with a grin. "That was an interesting color, by the way."
"Clothing transfigurations and coloring charms apparently don't get along very well," Lily said wryly.
"Aw, now Lily, was that supposed to be a metaphor for something?" Ryan teased. "Because that's really not a fair assessment."
Lily sent her a dirty look before sighing and plopping down on her bed. "I guess I'm going to have to buy robes after all. Damn. That's another thing I have to panic about."
"You mean you don't have even a really old set of dress robes?" Morgan asked. "Like a pair we had to have in third year or something?"
"Have we ever had anything that I would need dress robes for?"
"Oh. Good point."
"You can borrow a set of mine," Ryan offered easily. "I have a bunch because Aurors go to every event in the history of wizards and drag their kids along with them. I mean, you'll have to lengthen them and adjust them to your size and all of that, but those spells are a lot easier than completely redoing a whole set of robes. And you'll have to wait for Renée to send them, but I'm sure she'll send them almost immediately after she gets my letter."
"Renée?" Lily asked.
"Renée Potter, James' mum. My second mum. All of my stuff is at his house. Or… all of my dress robes and stuff are at his house because Renée always picks them out for me and it's just easier to leave them with her."
Lily looked a little uncertain about sending a letter to ask her ex-enemy's mum to send her a set of dress robes (despite the fact that she considered him a friend and all of that now). Or even having Ryan send a letter for her. "Er… no, that's alright."
"You sure?" Ryan asked cheerfully. "Because she wouldn't mind. Really. I won't even tell her who it's for, if you don't want me to."
"Renée Potter has the best taste in clothes," Morgan said sagely, knowing from her pureblooded experience. "You should let her pick out all of your clothes. Seriously."
Alice laughed. "Somehow, I think Mrs. Potter's definition of presentable is a little different from Ryan's. Can you imagine Ryan wearing the type of things Mrs. Potter wears all the time?"
"Ah, true. But still. Amazing tastes. Is she picking out your robes for the ball too?"
Ryan shrugged, laughing slightly. "Probably. If I ask her to. Actually, on second thought, she'll probably do it without me asking her to. She'll do it for the boys too, I'm sure. Hm. I need to write her a letter anyway." She went over to her trunk and began rifling through it, apparently trying to find a spare piece of parchment. "Are you sure you don't want me to ask, Lily?" she asked without turning around.
"No offense, but none of your stuff would fit me, Ryan," Lily said, grinning.
"Lengthening and resizing charms. It's no big—What the hell?" The girls turned to look as she straightened up, holding an old, crumpled, stained piece of parchment in her hands.
"What is it?" Alice asked.
"My copy of the Agreement," Ryan said, frowning curiously at the parchment in her hands. "I didn't know I still had this."
"What agreement?" Morgan asked.
"'I, Ryan Abigail Chelsea Madison Miller, do so swear to allow my father, Terrence Sebastian Miller, to send me to school wherever he wants in whatever country he wants with as little notice as he chooses without complaint (or at least without throwing a fit). In return, I demand that I be allowed at least Christmas Day and two weeks of summer vacation with the Christopher and Renée Potter family. By signing this contract, it is ensured that all of these promises will be kept and respected until graduation makes this contract void.' Damn, I was a demanding twelve year old."
"You needed to write an agreement to get your dad to let you visit the Potters?" Alice asked.
Ryan shrugged. "He was always too busy and didn't want to take time off work to transport me and Dan there and back. 'Course, after a couple of years, he realized he could get more work done if he sent us there, but whatever." She crumbled the parchment into a ball and tossed it back into her trunk. "Null and void now."
She didn't see the slightly worried glances that the girls exchanged between themselves. As casual as she acted about it now, they all knew that it would catch up to her one day. They could only hope that she would be willing to admit it when it finally did.
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I've never really explained to anyone the full story of how the Agreement came to be. They know the primary reason, that James was my best friend and I was sick and tired of not being able to see him, but they don't know all of the reasons.
The first part of really understanding it is you have to remember that my dad ripped me away from everything I knew about six months after my mum died. I couldn't really get over that, I don't think. It wasn't the moving and the learning a new language that really bothered me – even that young, I attacked challenges and conquered them without blinking – but I couldn't stand leaving my friends and second family. James, his mum and dad, Remus and Sirius. What's an eight year old to do about it?
The second thing you need to understand is that I sucked it up only because I thought my dad would let me go to Hogwarts. Every time I whined about moving, he would hold that over my head. "Be careful with that tone, young lady, or I might not let you go back." Implications. Lies. The things my dad would hold over my head to get me to shut up and throw my stuffed animals into a box so he could transport them to our newest home.
So, naturally, when I started school that term at some school in Italy, barely able to speak enough to say 'My name is Ryan', 'How are you?', and 'Please tell me you speak English better than I speak Italian', I was more than a little angry. And depressed. The third thing you should probably understand is that I practically cried myself to sleep for the first two months. I know that doesn't sound like me, but there it was. I put on a bright, happy face during the day and curled up into a ball and cursed my father until I went to sleep at night.
By the time I came home for Christmas hols, I was prepared. I walked right into his study the first full day of the hols, ready to negotiate. Well, negotiate implies that it was open to argument, so I guess the better term for it would make my demands.
I threw the two crumpled, nearly identical pieces of parchment down in front of him, covering his site layouts and strategies. He looked up, surprised and startled by the sudden change from professional, clean parchment with neat handwriting to the crumpled, dirty scraps covered in an eleven year old's messy and scrawling handwriting.
"Sign it," I said, holding out a quill to him.
"I have to know what I'm signing before I sign it," he said in a relatively reasonable tone.
"It's an agreement," I said forcefully, or as forcefully as a (barely) twelve year old can manage. And trust me, my (barely) twelve year old self could be extremely persuasive if I wanted to be. My first best friends were three boys. I knew how to get what I wanted… until it came to my father.
"Oh?" he asked mildly, picking up one of the scraps and squinting as he tried to read it. "An agreement for what?"
I paused, trying to decide how to phrase it. "Visiting rights," I finally said stiffly.
He looked up again, trying to keep his face neutral. But I could already see his barely contained surprise, covered by annoyance. "What kind of visiting rights, Ryan?"
"It says in there," I said calmly, pointing to the parchment. "I want to spend Christmas with the Potters."
"Hm?" he said, turning his eyes back to the parchment in his hands. "Do you now?"
"Yes," I said. "And parts of the summer too."
"Why?"
"Because he's my best friend and I never get to see him and you promised to let me go to Hogwarts, but now I'm Agrippa's. So it's only fair."
"I didn't promise to let you go to Hogwarts," he said, glancing up with a raised eyebrow.
"You… implied it. Often. To get me to leave you alone about visiting the Potters at all." He looked up again, raising another eyebrow in silent warning, but I ignored it as I stared back at him defiantly.
"I never said life was fair either," was the easy reply as he went back to the parchment. There was a long pause while he read over it. I knew enough to not push him too hard when I wanted something. "It doesn't say in here. What do I gain from the contract?"
"What do you gain?" I asked, bewildered. Why would he want to gain something out of it? It was the fair thing to do, with or without an agreement.
"Yes. For a signatory to want to sign a contract, they have to gain something out of the deal. What am I going to gain?"
I paused, thinking. What would he be gaining? The answer was relatively simple. "You won't have to chase me all over the world every time I run away to England."
He looked at me, looking slightly surprised before putting on a neutral face again. "I won't have to chase you?"
"You get to choose whatever school of magic you want to send me to without my complaining," I clarified. "If you don't sign it, I'll just pack my trunk now and run away. They'd take me midyear, and I could just live with the Potters during the summer and breaks."
"You wouldn't get to see Daniel."
I hesitated, thinking of my four year old brother. "The Potters would be willing to take him too, I'd bet."
He raised an eyebrow. "And you think he would go with you without any question?"
"I'm completely positive." We both knew that Danny and I were the center of each other's universes, despite the age gap. And we both knew without a doubt that if I went back to Britain, he would come with me without hesitation.
He frowned, looking at me as if trying to decide whether or not I would really go through with my threat. Apparently he decided that I would have, because he held his hand out for the quill. I handed it to him without any hesitation. "I need ink too, Ryan," he said calmly before noticing what type of quill I had just handed him. He looked at it, blinked, and then frowned at me again.
"I had to use one of mine, or you would try and break it," I said calmly. "Besides, I signed it with that quill, so you have to too." A quill of a Phoenix had a tendency to repel ink, but they could be used like a regular quill because they left scorch marks that could pass for ink. Essentially, they burned the writing into the paper. Phoenix quills were used to sign contracts because signing a contract with a Phoenix feather is almost as strong as an Unbreakable Vow. And if one of the signatories was the donator of the quill…
He frowned, but he put the quill to the parchment and signed both copies before handing the quill and one of the pieces of parchment back to me. "That means not another argument about where I want to send you to school, you hear me? If I want to send you to Durmstrang, you won't be able to complain."
He wouldn't send me to Durmstrang, and we both knew it, but he'd made his point. "Yes, sir," I said. Spontaneously, I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you, Daddy."
One of the last times I ever kissed him on the cheek. Well, voluntarily. Our relationship just got worse as I got older. Obviously I regret it now, but there never really was any effort from his side either. Like he knew it wouldn't get him anywhere, so he never even tried.
I wish he had. I wish I had. I wish we both had at least attempted something. I wish I wasn't the reason Danny's relationship was almost as awful with our father as mine was, but I know I'm at least part of the reason.
Merlin, I miss them.
-Ryan
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Ryan fiddled with the ring on her thumb as she hummed tunelessly to herself, trying to figure out the answer to an Arithmancy equation. Or, at least, that's what she had been doing originally. Now she stared at her ring, wondering about why in the name of all that was good and magical would Voldemort want to come after her.
She wasn't exactly sure what had brought about that line of thought. She had managed to avoid it for a month, but she couldn't help it anymore. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she had found her copy of the Agreement just that morning. Or maybe because all of the people talking about the Christmas hols. Everyone that had families to go home to and celebrate with. She was going to James', like usual, but this time there wouldn't be any little brother to run up and greet her as soon as she stepped off the train.
But why her? There was nothing… especially special about her. Well… besides the Phoenix bit. But she really didn't consider that a real reason for Voldemort to attack her. It was impossible to force a Phoenix to do something they didn't want. Especially since it meant she was related to Gryffindor and all that. And, sure, her dad was important and has been after Voldemort's butt for quite some time, but was that any reason or excuse to try and convince her to join his side.
Was it?
She yanked the ring off her thumb and put it on the table next to her book to avoid distracting herself by fiddling and twisting and tugging it. She looked at it for a few seconds before sighing and forcing herself to concentrate on Arithmancy.
When the object in question is pointed at a ninety degree angle towards the caster of the spell, what effect should this have on the spell being cast on the object in question? Would the absolute weight change the results? Is the magical weight dependent upon the spell being cast? Support your answer with an example.
Who gives a damn? she thought in frustration, tossing her quill across the table. She made an annoyed noise to herself, drawing the attention of some Ravenclaw fifth years sitting a few tables over. Her head went forward, resting in her upward palms.
She glanced up and noticed that the fifth years were still eying her in mild concern. And why shouldn't they be? Ryan Miller, by herself in the library and making noises that clearly said she didn't understand whatever it was she was supposed to be attempting? Obviously not typical Lady Marauder behavior. "NEWTs are hell," she informed said in answer to their gazes. "Enjoy those OWLs, 'cause it can get a lot worse."
One of the Ravenclaws paled slightly, another looked worried, and third frowned slightly. Another one grinned widely. "How much are you exaggerating, Miller?"
Ryan grinned back. "Just enough to worry you." She waited until all of the Ravenclaws had turned back to their work before sighing. There was no way she was getting any work done. Not now. Not when there were so many other things on her mind.
She reached out and picked up her ring again, looking at it carefully. She had the design memorized, of course, and knew every scratch and imperfection on the ring. It was her trademark, something she was rarely if ever seen without. A simple silver band with an ivy design carved into it. Her initials twined into the ivy. Well, three of her five initials. She smiled slightly to herself, remembering how bad Danny had felt about the fact that he could only afford to have three of her initials carved into it.
He had gotten it for her for Christmas her fifth year. Which would have made him eight. Which meant he got sixteen sickles a month in allowance. "I wanted to get all of your initials," he had said a little tentatively when she opened it, "but I didn't have enough. And I wanted to buy it for you by myself."
She had just grinned at him, hugging him tightly before slipping it over her thumb. "I love it just the way it is. Thank you." And she had proven it to him by wearing it virtually all of the time for the next two years.
What she wouldn't give to be able to give her brother a hug now.
She sighed, shaking her head as if to shake away the memories. Mulling over something lost wouldn't do her any good in the present. She slid the ring back on her thumb, focusing her thoughts on the Christmas break.
There really wouldn't be anything out of the ordinary about the arrangements. She would go home with the Potters, like always. She would spend Christmas and practically the entire break with them, like always. She would stay in her usual room, she would attempt to keep the boys from messing up the Christmas decorations, she would have snowball fights that would quickly turn into all out wars that sometimes turned into duels. Nothing out of the ordinary, the same routine as always.
Minus two people.
And one of them didn't really count anyway, because he was never around during the breaks. That's why she spent it with the Potters. He didn't have enough time to take off just because she was home (despite the fact that James' parents had no problem with it whatsoever). He couldn't spend time with her when there was the chance that the Ministry would get the call while he was gone. He never…
No. She might not miss one of them (or at least she might be able to convince herself that she wouldn't), but hols without her brother would be awful. That was why she loved breaks. She loved Hogwarts and everything about it, but she missed her brother. If it weren't for Danny, they probably wouldn't have been able to drag her out of the school even for the summer.
But without her brother…
Happy thoughts, Miller, she thought forcefully before turning her attention back to the parchment before her. God damn it, stop mulling over it and think about something cheerful. Christmas is coming. There. That's nice and… depressing.
She sighed, slamming her book closed and loading up her bag. There was no hope for it. The only thing she could do was go flying. The natural way. Maybe that would get everything off of her mind.
Then again… maybe not.
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It was getting closer and closer to Christmas, which naturally meant that Lily and the other prefects (minus the Head Boy, his best friend, and a few other male prefects) were beginning to stress about the ball. Colors and designs and music and age limits and prices and food and arrangements and lights and table settings and—
James felt like bashing his head in. If Lily rattled off one more statistic, he was going to go insane.
The age limit was easy, fourth years and above unless you had an older date. The first and second years didn't care, and the third years that wanted to go could find a date if they wanted one bad enough.
But that was the only thing that didn't require much debate, it seemed. There was the music, for one thing. Not everyone liked the same type of music, and it would be virtually impossible to please everyone, but try telling that to a group of teenage girls. The flighty ones wanted some kind of bouncing stuff that made James want to gag, some of them wanted some kind of harder core rock stuff that would make some of the older professors die in shock if they even suggested it. The Muggleborns wanted some of their music to be played, the Slytherins point blank said that nothing relating to Muggles should be allowed.
And then there were the colors. The colors that they had decided on were red, green, silver, and gold. That was, at least, until some loyal Hufflepuff spoke up about the fact that both Gryffindor colors were represented but none of the Hufflepuff colors were. Naturally, the Slytherins jumped on that one. James was close to overriding all of them and just telling them to put their opinions where they belonged and deal with the Gryffindor Christmas colors.
Then there were the decorations to be decided, which apparently couldn't really be decided until they decided on the colors. That whole conversation had made James' head spin, actually, along with most of the other male prefects. (Except for that Ravenclaw that seemed to be into it just as much as the really flighty birds. But there were already questions on his sexuality as it was, so it wasn't that much of a surprise.) And the lights and table arrangements couldn't be decided until the decorations were decided, and since those couldn't be decided until the colors were decided…
"Merlin, I need a good prank," James muttered to himself.
"Talking to yourself is an early sign of insanity," Ryan said cheerfully.
"It's only a sign of insanity if you answer yourself," Trey corrected in the same tone. Ryan laughed in agreement.
The Quidditch team was sitting together at the Gryffindor table after an early morning practice (much to the displeasure of half the team). While everyone else was talking or eating or arguing, James was attempting to look over the notes of the latest prefect meeting.
James looked up long enough to send Ryan a wry smile. "I think I am going insane from looking at all of this."
"Awwww, poor Jimmy," Ryan said in her most mockingly sympathetic tone. He shot her another wry look before turning back to the parchment in front of him.
"Why is it that you can call him Jimmy, but if anyone else does, he bites their head off?" Mark asked, looking slightly amazed that she had gotten away with it.
Ryan grinned a little dangerously. "Because I knew him when his mummy still called Jimmy." The boys on the team snickered as Aubrey and Stephanie just grinned. James shot Ryan a dirty look, but he knew better than to try and stop her.
"Wait… how is that possible?" Trey asked. "You've only been here since fifth year."
"She used to live next door to me," James said without looking up. "Knew me before Sirius and Remus, even. That's why we let her hang out with us so much."
"Thanks, James," Ryan said cheerfully. She turned to Trey. "My dad was a traveling Auror. Which means it was his job to loan himself out to other countries when there was some kind of crises. Usually pretty minor stuff compared to the shit here. Magical gangs, pureblood uprisings, disappearing Aurors, stuff like that. Voldemort—" She calmly ignore the winces that went around the table. "—came up in my fourth year, so he let us move back here fifth year. And since Voldemort obviously isn't gone, we never left again."
"So if You-Know-Who was defeated, you would have to leave again?" Cameron asked.
A brief silence fell over the table. After about a minute, Aubrey reached over and smacked the back of Cameron's head. "You idiot."
"What?! It was just an innocent question!"
"No, I wouldn't," Ryan said calmly, grabbing James hand when she saw it move. She wasn't sure if he was going for his wand or if he was just going to follow up on the urge to punch Cameron, but she didn't feel like dealing with the after effects of either. "My dad died a couple of months ago fighting Voldemort."
"Oh." Cameron turned a shade of red Ryan had never seen before. "Sorry."
If I had a knut for every time someone's said that to me in the past two months, she thought to herself, forcing down James' hand again and she shooting him a look before turning back to Cameron. "No problem. A lot of people didn't make the connection." Which was a complete and utter lie, but she didn't want to make him feel any worse. Really, who could blame him for not reading the paper? Who wanted to read the paper anymore?
"I… er… Bye," Cameron said, jumping up and dashing out of the Great Hall.
A brief silence followed until Ryan made a noise of frustration and stood, yanking on James' arm to get him to stand up with her. "Come on, you overprotective sooksin." James grabbed his papers before following her on down the table without any argument. He sat across from her at the end of the table without saying anything. "He's just a third year, James!"
"Should that matter?" James asked darkly.
"Yes!"
"Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn't have reacted the same way had it been me." Ryan glared at him. "I thought so. I'm not stupid, Rye. Just because you've been acting the same as always doesn't mean you're not feeling it worse than usual."
"Oh, and you're a great judge of that, I suppose."
"Did we not just talk about how long we've known each other? What kind of crap assed best friend would I be if I couldn't tell?"
"You're still an ass."
Remus slid into the seat next to Ryan before fully noticing the glares the other two were giving each other. "Er… bit early for arguing about whose Quidditch team is going to win the season, isn't it?"
"Tell your girlfriend she's an idiot if she thinks she's impossible to read," James said darkly.
"Tell your best friend he's an idiot if he thinks I need him to protect me," Ryan said just as darkly.
"Someone care to explain what you're angry about?" Remus said lightly, looking between the two. Ryan stubbornly looked the opposite direction as James turned back to his notes. "Right then," Remus said in the same light tone before reaching out and putting food onto his plate.
None of them said a word until Lily, Alice, and Morgan joined them a little while later. "Tired, anyone?" Morgan asked cheerfully, not fully picking up on the anger practically radiating from James and Ryan. "Pass the eggs, please."
"Are you looking over the notes from the other night?" Lily asked James easily. She wasn't exactly sure why no one at the table was speaking, but she was pretty sure it wasn't because they were tired. He nodded gruffly without looking at her or saying anything. She frowned. "Any new ideas?"
"Nothing that hasn't already been shot down multiple times," he said darkly.
"That would mean that they aren't new," Lily said in a mockingly cheerful tone just to see what kind of reaction it would get out of him. He shot her a withering look that told her everything she needed to know. She hadn't been hanging around him almost every free, waking moment for the past few months for nothing.
Remus stood up and offered Ryan a hand. "Come on." She looked at his hand for a couple of seconds before nodding and putting her hand in his.
As soon as the two of them were out of ear shot, the three girls rounded on James. "A little early for friendship ruining arguments, isn't it, James?" Alice asked lightly.
"It's her fault," he said curtly, pushing the parchment towards Lily as he finally looked up. "And I doubt its friendship ruining. Unless she stays as stubborn as she is right now."
"And I'm sure she would blame it on you," Alice said calmly.
"But that doesn't tell us what happened," Lily said.
"It's Cameron's fault," he said.
Morgan couldn't help a slight smirk. "Small, blonde, can't aim to save his life, third year Cameron?" James nodded. "Okay, you're going to have to connect the dots on that one."
James sighed, unconsciously messing up his hair with one hand. "We were talking with the Quidditch team about how long we've known each other and why she didn't come until fifth year. And Cameron asked something about if Voldemort was defeated, would she have to move again. And… Well…"
"You went into over protective mode and decided to curse the hell out of him for bringing it up," Alice said.
James shrugged a little sheepishly. "I never got around to the actual cursing because she held my arm down, but pretty much the same thought process, yeah. She dragged me down here after Cameron left and started going on about how it wasn't his fault and all, and then we started arguing about whether or not she's been thinking about it more lately – which she bloody well has and she knows it – and… I dunno, I guess we're just both stressed or something."
"You react to stress by blowing up at each other?" Lily asked. James opened his mouth, but she cut him off. "Yes, I know. She started it. Of course she started it. But that—" She gestured in a direction Remus and Ryan had headed in. "—was definitely a side of Ryan I've never seen before."
Morgan snorted. "That's because by the time she blew up at James the last time, you were already inside."
"I dunno," James said, shrugging again. "She's thinking about it, though. Whether she wants to admit it or not. I hope Remus can get her to stop acting like such a pain in the arse."
"Who's a pain in the arse?" Sirius asked easily as he and Peter plopped down. "Pass the bacon, could you, mate?"
"James and Ryan had an argument on how protective is over protective," Alice said.
"She's being an idiot," James grumbled darkly.
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Apparently Remus wasn't completely successful in convincing Ryan to reconcile their differences because the two friends made sure to put someone in the seat between them for the rest of the day. A slight tension followed the two of them that everyone could pick up on simply because of the two people involved in the 'argument'. But, otherwise, everything seemed normal enough.
The five Marauders sat in the back of the Charms classroom, three of them poking each other with their wands as the other two sat off slightly to the side, shaking their heads and laughing. They had already finished the set assignment for the class period and had a little left over free time. No one in their right mind would allow for free time in a class with the Marauders, but Flitwick let them goof off for the time being.
None of them noticed when the door opened and McGonagall walked into the classroom, shooting them a dirty look as she made her way to Flitwick's desk. Very few people noticed when she leaned over and whispered something to him, but everyone looked up when she straightened and called, "Miller, you're needed in the Headmaster's office."
"But I didn't do it!" Ryan exclaimed automatically. "It was Sirius!" Everyone in the classroom except for McGonagall laughed as Sirius let out an mockingly outraged "Hey!"
"Although I do not doubt that Mr. Black has something planned," McGonagall said, her mouth in a thin line, "that is not the reason you are wanted at the present. Please come with me."
Ryan traded a look with Remus before shrugging and hopping off the desk and following McGonagall out of the room. McGonagall didn't speak as she led the way down the corridors to Dumbledore's office, leaving Ryan to wonder what was going on. "Professor? Did I do something?"
"Not to my knowledge," the professor replied a little stiffly. "It would be best if the Headmaster explained the situation to you." She stopped in front of a set of stone gargoyles that Ryan knew only too well. "Sugar quills." The gargoyle slid to the side, revealing a revolving staircase. "I believe that you can make it from here, Miss Miller."
"Yes, ma'am," Ryan said before stepping onto the staircase. The staircase ended at a large set of doors, which Ryan knocked on rather lazily, ignoring the memories that threatened to resurface from the last time she was here.
"Come in, Miss Miller," Dumbledore's voice called.
She opened the door, feeling completely at home despite the fact that she hadn't been there in a couple of months. "Good afternoon, Prof—Oof!" Something collided suddenly with her midsection, nearly knocking the breath out of her. When she looked down, she stopped breathing on her own. "Danny?"
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Yeah, it's a cliffy. Kinda. Blahblahbah. Whatever. lol Sorry. Anyway, did you guys here when the last book was coming out. JULY 21st, 2007!!!!!!!! So in just a few short months, the entire series will be over. So. For advanced warning, I kept writing this through one book. I will keep writing it through another.
And guys. Seriously. I'm on 16 people's author alert. If your reading this, do me a bigbigBIG favor and review, please.