The update is 2 months too late, I suck, half my readers (if not more) have lost faith in me, blah blah blah. I've not been well for the past few months, and that's why I'm not going to go on four ten pages for the wait. I'm sorry that you guys HAD to wait, but I'm not sorry that I took time away from even thinking of fanfiction. I'm sorry that I keep disappointing you readers, but I just…really needed to fix RL before I could think about the story again. Now, I just realized that RL, for me, will never be fixed and that I need to exist through my characters, because they're the only thing I can control even when I can't control myself, and the insanity of it keeps me sane.


So here you are. I think it's much better the second time around. Not much better, since most of the editing was done on my lunch breaks at work, and there isn't much inspiration to be found in the office of an alarm company.


Again, some changes were made in this chapter, none that affect the story too greatly. I think they just enhance it and make a tad more believable, and some bits of dialogue were added in order to make the story flow better. Plus, of course, chapter two was the driest chapter, fluff wise, and I figure I owe something to the readers that remain. The least I could do was change a bit of Lily/James dialogue.


A few of you asked about Sel (the editor, for those that don't know) which I did anticipate. I was really uncertain how to answer, but I'm going to stick to the truth. We didn't talk for about four months. I'm not going to get into the reason, but all you need to know is that teenagers are stupid and do stupid things and are stubborn and allow stupid things to get in the way. We've been through a lot of shit, typical and not, together and apart. But we're okay now, and we're talking, and moving on, and getting past the…past. More importantly (for you all, anyway), we're working together again, and she's back with the story. We have decided, however, that some changes had to be made, and while it might seem silly to you guys, we realized that she needed a new Editor name. But that can all be read about in her Leditor. Because no matter how many changes we make, I can never forgot what, I think, was my best typo ever. Oh no, wait, it was a…write-o. So here it is.

"Hi, everyone. This is The Editor Formerly Known as Sel the Mag. (yeah. shut up. I'm not turning into a symbol, small favors, people.) Well, what can I say? This year's been some trip. I fell in love, broke up, got back together, broke up, had a gun pointed at me, watched my ex run away from home (to my house), had sick relatives, failed a major test, and dealt with all of MY issues. So I needed a change, to fit how I've changed. So my name has changed as well. I'm now Lekin the Wicked. Lekin, for.. Uh. Don't ask, lol. Or do, it's mildly intriguing. And Wicked for the meaning, included below. It suits me better. Besitos, amantes!

1 : morally very bad : EVIL
2 a : FIERCE, VICIOUS b : disposed to or marked by mischief : ROGUISH
3 a : disgustingly unpleasant : VILE b : causing or likely to cause harm, distress, or trouble
4 : going beyond reasonable or predictable limits : of exceptional quality or degree

Taken from the AOL Merriam-Webster dictionary"


Anyway, I'm trying to keep this short. So…enjoy, I love you all. Praises are loved, concrits are more than welcome, and flames (though I've been lucky enough so far not to get any) are laughed at. Review responses will be up on my live journal (the link is in my author bio) shortly. I'd advise you all to read it, whether you left a review or not, because I'll also be addressing a few general questions that you might have been thinking of. Besides, I'll be putting up spoilers and I plan to start putting up excerpts from future chapters, too. Wink wink nudge nudge.

Love you all. Really. (Oh, and the chapter title was tweaked at bit, too. I just didn't like it.)

Chapter Two: Prefect Speeches and Screaming Watches

The first years were sorted, Dumbledore made his speech and the feast began.

Sophie didn't even bother to try and contain her excitement "Okay, spill. I want to know everything."

Spill what, exactly? "Not much happened. We just talked."

Her face fell. "That's it! You were alone in a tiny compartment for five hours with one of the sexiest men alive and all you did was talk?"

Now who was being dramatic? "'Sexiest men alive'?"

"You are missing the point entirely."

"What do you want to hear?" I began scraping food into my plate, ignoring the look Sophie was giving me. "That we were taken hostage by mad monkeys and knocked unconscious and when we woke up there was a gun to our heads, but somehow we managed to escape and fell in love and there's going to be a wedding in the fall?"

"Now that is interesting." She pointed her fork at me. "And what a story to tell the grandkids, huh?"

"What grandkids? Sophie, you are making too much out of this. It was just a train ride."

"A train ride with James Potter. A train ride with the guy who turned all of the Slytherin team's broomsticks into walruses. A train ride with the guy who snuck into the staff room and dyed it pink. A train ride with the guy who convinced to let Professor McGonagall put her hair down for a week. You can't tell me that nothing interesting happened."

"Well, I never said it wasn't interesting. It was real…fun."

She dropped her fork and placed a hand to my forehead, as if she was feeling for my temperature. "Quick! Alert the press! Shout it from the rooftops! It's going to make head line news. Lily Evans just said she had fun … during a job. What is this world coming too?"

"It wasn't part of the job." Sophie rolled her eyes. "Seriously. I do have fun. I just know when and when not too, that's all."

"Okay fine." She leaned in conspiratorially. "So what did you find out about our Head Boy?" She whispered it, obviously ready for either scandalous or juicy gossip. If I knew Sophie, it was probably both.

Everything. "A lot actually. He's got a sister who's starting Hogwarts next year, he broke his leg when he was nine, his mother's name is Elaine, his favorite place in the world is the Quidditch pitch, and," I smiled before continuing, "he loves chocolate frogs."

Sophie stared at me blankly.

"What?"

"What does all that have anything to do with one another?"

"Absolutely nothing. That's what so great about James. You can talk to him about anything … or nothing at all. I mean, I spent almost a half hour arguing with him on why Sugar Quills are better than Chocolate Frogs – that's how I know he likes them."

She was staring at me again. "What?"

"You wasted your time fighting about candy?"

How was she able to make it sound so stupid? "It was not a waste of time. It was … I don't know. Maybe it seems pointless, but it didn't to me. And it still doesn't seem pointless now."

"I do believe someone has a little crush."

I dropped whatever food had been in my fork back on to my plate. A crush? On James? She couldn't be more wrong. That was…something that never occurred to me? Something that didn't seem as crazy as it would have two days ago? Something that could very possibly be tru-

No. This was as far away as possible from a crush. But …

I knew what I wanted in a boyfriend, and it wasn't James. I wanted someone who was serious and subtle and maybe even a bit shy. James was none of those things.

I shook my head. "No. I don't like him. I mean, I do like him…but not like that. He's great but not in that way."

"Are you sure about that?"

No … not at all. "Positive. Come on, Sophie, you've known me since grade school. Does James honestly seem like the man I've always dreamed of?"

"No, you're right. I just – LILY! Another sugar quill? Don't you think you've got enough of them already?"

I looked at the piece of candy lying on the table next to me and I blushed. "James gave it to me." I took a sip of pumpkin juice, avoiding her gaze.

"Hmm. Maybe I thought the wrong person had a crush."

I whipped my head around to look at her. The idea of James liking me was even more preposterous than me liking him. It was no where near the truth. It was all kinds of crazy. It was never going to happen. It was … sounding better and better ever second. "He doesn't. Trust me. That's just the way he is. He was doing it to be funny, that's all."

"Well, aren't you going to eat it?"

"Eat what?"

She looked at me like I was crazy. "The Sugar Quill sitting an inch away from you."

"Uh … no. I'd rather not. I don't want to spoil my dinner."

"What are you talking about? One piece of candy isn't going to spoil your appetite."

I looked away from her, nervously. "I'll just save it…for class. I need something to keep me alive during History of Magic."

"Lily, I happen to know that you have a lifetime's supply of those things stocked under your bed. There is no way in hell that another Sugar Quills is going to help." She shot me a grin. "Unless of course, you're saving it for entirely different reasons …"

I suddenly felt very defensive. "What are you suggesting?"

"Like maybe you're saving it just because James gave it to you. And it is the sort of thing you'd do … if you fancied him."

"I don't fancy him, Sophie. Why are you looking at me that way? Stop looking at me that way!"

"It's just sad."

I eyed her warily. "What is?"

He smile was kind, but secretive at the same time. "That I know you better than you know yourself."

As the feast continued, I began to think more about what Sophie said. Was it possible that I fancied James? No…I didn't. I'd been through that already. He wasn't my type at all. Not one thing about him was what I imagined - what I wanted. But why was I so focused on saving that darn Sugar Quill? It was just a piece of candy, after all. Then again…I was a sentimental sap – I knew that. I was just saving if for - what, exactly? Nothing, I argued with myself. It was just a nice gesture from a nice friend, that's all. Nothing more, nothing less.

But as many times as I told myself that, I still had trouble believing it.

When it was over, I said a hurried good-bye to Sophie and walked over to the staff table, where I was supposed to meet Dumbledore. James met me halfway there.

"Aren't you supposed to be showing the first years to their dorms?" I asked as he walked up to me.

He shrugged. "I paid a sixth year prefect to do it for me."

"You can't do that!" I said, outraged. I didn't care how good of a person he was to talk to; he couldn't just flake out on the first thing he had to do. What was going to happen later on in the year when we had important things to plan? Would he pay a sixth year to do it for him too?

"Don't worry about it," he said as if he read my mind. "I'm not going to slack off everything. Just the real boring stuff."

He winked and I rolled my eyes. "James, you can't just do things like that. If you're Head Boy, then you have a responsibility to do everything you're asked. It's a very important position, and I know you're not serious about it, but I am. If you could – for my sake more than yours – care just a little about it, I'd really appreciate the help."

I walked off, weaving my way around the students. Well then. It was pretty obvious that I did NOT fancy James. How could be possibly take his Head Boy responsibilities so lightly?

"Lily!" I could hear him calling after me. "Wait up."

I stopped and turned to face him, "What?" Maybe I was making too big a deal of this. Maybe I was blowing things out of proportion. But I didn't care. I was annoyed and I wanted it to be known.

"Come on, don't be mad at me. I wouldn't have said anything if I knew you were so uptight about these things."

Uptight! Who was he to say that I was uptight? He barely knew me! James, seeing the furious expression on my face quickly spoke up before I could say anything. "Damn it, that's not what I meant. I was joking about slacking off the rest of the year. I know it's a hard job, and I'm not about to let you do it alone."

It was awfully hard to be mad at him. His voice was so sincere and his face was so serious and he was just too damn cute! "I wasn't mad at you. I just don't want to be stuck with all the work."

"You won't be." He put his arm around my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "But really, the choice between spending time with snooty first years and spending time with you isn't a very difficult one to make."

"So you paid off a sixth year so you wouldn't have to spend time with 11 year olds?"

"Yes."

"So that you could spend time with me instead?"

He grinned. "Absolutely."

"And you're not just saying that so I won't be hacked off with you?"

"Of course I am," he replied with a wink, then swaggered off.

Without thinking, I went after him, only to stop a few strides in. "Hey! Wait, you can't just – " Then I blinked, wondering how it was that the conversation had started with James running after me, only to end with my chasing him.

"Ah, Miss Evans, Mister Potter. How good to see you," we were greeted by Professor Dumbledore upon reaching the staff table.

"Good to see you too, Albus," said James, grinning cheekily. "And how was your summer?

"Wonderful. Spent it in Monaco. I must say, the Royal family was awfully nice though a bit, -" Professor McGonagall, who was standing behind him, coughed rather loudly and Dumbledore stood up, looking a bit flustered. "Oh, yes. I suppose you need to be shown to your rooms. Very well; follow me."

James grinned at me and I couldn't help smiling back.

"As I'm sure you two already know, there is a joined flat of sorts for the Head Boy and Girl," began Dumbledore as he led us out if the Great and up the marble staircase, followed closely by Professor McGonagall. "There is a quaint common room for all the Hogwarts meetings involving students. You have, of course, seen it, Miss Evans, during your fifth and sixth years here.

"Well, yes," I said slowly. "But I don't seem to remember any rooms."

Dumbledore smiled. "No, you wouldn't. They are charmed so that only the Head Boy and Girl, and anyone with them, of course, as well as a select few teachers can see the staircase leading to the rooms, a bit of genius from Professor Flitwick, in order to keep other students out. Nevertheless, you'll find it is very much like the Gryffindor Dormitories – only smaller, as it is only accommodating you two."

We got off on the fourth floor landing, stopping at the familiar statue of Sally the Sober.

"Pumpkin Pasties."

The statue swung to the left, revealing a large doorway through which Dumbledore stepped. We clambered in after him, and I couldn't help but remembering how impressed I had felt when I saw this room for the first time in my fifth year. James was walking around with a similar expression of awe on his face.

"Nice place," he said after a few minutes.

That was putting it mildly.

The room was in the shape of a Prefect's badge, with a fireplace at the back wall, a large red couch across from it, and various puffy beanbag chairs scattered around the room. Off to the right and left were two curved staircases, which I had never seen before leading up to what I presumed to be dormitories.

And then, there it was: the balcony I had fallen in love with during all my prefect meetings. It was beautiful, with its red and gold curtains (probably since we were both from Gryffindor) billowing from the wind. It was the stuff cheesy romance novel covers were made of. You know, where the gorgeous man made of muscle would be holding some beautiful woman with a waist the size of a quill and breasts the size of quaffles; and if they were on a balcony, there'd be some unbelievably amazing view in the background—the ocean or neighboring castle or something of the sort. And even though there wasn't a beach or a castle to see, the mountains and lake surrounding Hogwarts were no less majestic, and no less breathtaking.

"Miss Evans, your room is up the stairs on the left; Mister Potter, your is on the right," Dumbledore's booming voice broke into my thoughts. "You two will have to share a bathroom, which separates the room, but I think it is large enough to accommodate the both of you."

I walked around the room, towards the grand, oak bookshelf that stood next to the fireplace, scanning the titles. There were the usual charms, potions, and transfiguration books, a copy or two of Hogwarts; A History, and then –

"Gone With the Wind? That wasn't here last year," I said, turning to face Dumbledore, a smile on my face.

If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was smirking. "No. I don't believe it was. In fact, I think you will find a great deal here that wasn't there last year."

I suddenly had the strange feeling that he wasn't just talking about the book.

"Now. I'd just like to address a few rules before I leave – "

"Oh, but of course. What's a day at Hogwarts without some rules?" James exclaimed, grinning as he plopped on an armchair, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees. "Well, let's have 'em."

"I'd just like you to keep in mind, that I would not find it wise to be caught in the same room during your time here – "

James grinned. Was that all he ever did? "Albus, you ruin everything."

How could he just talk to the headmaster that way? As if they were old buddies or something. I would never dream of talking to an authority figure in such a way, especially about as something as embarrassing as being caught in … well, in a state such as Dumbledore was implying. But that was James, as I was coming to find. He just didn't seem to care who he was talking to.

"Now, James. I said it wise not to be caught. And I do so believe that you are a wise boy…"

James looked at me. "Hear that, Lily? We can have a wild, torrid, passionate love affair, right in your room. As long as we don't get caught, right, Alby?" He winked at me and I blushed, turning back to the bookshelf.

Dumbledore left shortly, telling us that there would be a brief Prefect meeting tomorrow and that James and I should prepare a short speech about the things we hoped to accomplish this year. I could already tell that James wouldn't give it an ounce of thought, make everything up on the spot, and still have it be the most incredible amazing speech any of the prefects had heard. He was just that good. I, however, didn't have the luxury of his amazing mind, and was currently sitting in one of the red poufs by the balcony, tapping my quill against a notebook and trying to create something remotely interesting to say. So far, all I managed to come up with was:

Dear Hogwarts students and prefects.

My name is Lily Evans and as you know, I am this year's Head Girl. I am very pleased and honored to be accepting this position, and with your help I would like to make this year…

Completely standard, completely boring, completely rigid, completely me. It was only two sentences and I already hated it. I ripped it out of my notebook, crumpled it into a ball, and extended my hand backward, ready to throw it at the wall. I threw it will all my might, hoping that the ink wasn't completely dry and would smudge the wall, just for fun. But the paper never made it to the wall, and instead, landed in the palm of an outstretched hand – James' outstretched hand.

"Practicing your Quidditch skills?"

I groaned and looked up at his smiling face. Of course he was smiling. James Potter couldn't be unhappy. James Potter didn't have to worry about his stupid speech tomorrow. James Potter was un-crumbling the paper and reading it?

"That could be private, you know," I grumbled from my seat.

He raised his eyebrows. "So private that you're throwing it around the room?"

"I wasn't throwing it around the room. I was, uh, throwing it against a wall?" I curled up and rested my head on the pouf, looking at James through half open eyes. I yawned and closed my eyes, wondering why I felt so tired all of a sudden.

"Well, as far as I know, people don't normally throw personal notes at all. What is it, really?"

I opened my eyes and jumped when I saw James standing right in front of me. Did he have to stand so close? It was more than a bit unsettling. "It's the beginning of my speech."

"Dear Hogwarts Students and Prefects," he began reading as I groaned and closed my eyes again. "My name is Lily Evans, and as you know, I am this year's Head Girl. No, really? I thought you were Head Boy. I am very pleased and honored to be accepting this position," he snorted. "What's so honoring about it?...and with your help I would like to make this year…"

God, it sounded ten times worse when read aloud.

"Well, it uh," he sounded pained and I looked up. James was holding the paper is his hands, studying it critically, turning it every few seconds, as if reading it upside down would make it any better. "Well, it's not bad," he said, finally.

That good, huh? "No," I said, snorting. "It's just not good."

"No, it's not good. But it's not bad either." He said the last part very quickly. "It's just….there."

"Forgive me if I have no clue as to what you're saying."

He looked at the paper again, and scratched his head – an annoyingly adorable gesture. "There's nothing really there. I can't say whether it's good or bad, because there's nothing yet to judge it on."

"Okay, then. What are you writing?"

He looked confused. "Writing?"

"For your speech?"

"Oh. I'm not writing anything."

Was I good, or what? "I knew it. I just knew it."

James looked confused again. It was a cute look, I had to admit. Shut up, brain. "Knew what?"

"Knew that you weren't going to even think about the speech until tomorrow, say whatever comes to mind, and then have it be terrific. It's not fair," I grumbled, standing up angrily.

He crossed his arms over his chest, "And why isn't it fair?" He was smirking again. He was actually smirking at me.

"WHY ISN'T IT FAIR? Because, I will spend hours slaving away on this crap speech and you will spend three seconds thinking about it, but, everyone will love yours and they'll all be asleep during mine!"

"Did you ever think that maybe the problem is that you think too much about it?" He sat down on the floor by the fire and smoothed out my dismal excuse for a speech.

"How is thinking a problem? In my experience, it's actually a valuable thing in everyday life." I crossed my hands over my chest, and looked down at James as he used his fist to get out all the creases.

"I didn't say not to think. I said not to think so much." He picked up the paper and patted the floor next to him. "Sit down."

I looked at him warily. "Why?"

"So I can help you with your speech, obviously."

"What if I don't want any help?"

"What if you do?" He tugged on my arm, sending me falling down and sprawling out in a most unattractive position. "See? You do need my help. You can't even stand properly with falling down; how are you supposed to write a speech?" He sent me a grin, which I would have returned if my butt hadn't been so sore.

I smacked his arm and glared at him. "Don't do that again."

"I didn't do anything. What - are you imagining things now?"

I hit him again. "Wow. So violent. And temperamental. And you can't even stand up normally. Are you sure you're quite alright in the head?"

"Every part of me is perfectly alright, thank you very much."

James gave a fleeting glance at my crossed arms before looking up to my face, "I know, I noticed that much." Merlin, he was blushing!

"That's not what I meant." But I had to suppress a smile at it.

"Then be clearer next time." Another grin. "Now, do you need help with your essay or not?"

"Fine. Since you're so desperate to help." I liked it though, that he wanted to help me with my essay. It was … sweet.

"Right. Well, first off, ditch the "Dear Hogwarts Students and Prefects" part. It sounds too formal." He grabbed a quill and crossed out the greeting. "Now –"

"Wait," I interrupted him. "What's wrong with being formal?"

"Nothing. Formal is fine - if you're talking to McGonagall or something. These are just a bunch of fifth and sixth years."

I didn't get it. "So? What's wrong with being polite?"

He looked exasperated. "Lily, there's a difference between being polite and acting like you're their teacher. There's no way they'll pay attention to you if they think that going to meetings will be like taking an extra class."

"Okay, then. Fine. What should I say instead?"

"I dunno, 'hi' maybe?"

"Hi?"

"Yes. Hi. It's usually something people use as a form of greeting…" Gods, he was infuriating. And cute. But mostly infuriating.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, I know that, you oaf. It's just not the way I would normally start off a speech."

"Exactly. That was your problem. Now, instead of all this "I'm Lily Evans and I'm honored to be your Head Girl" bullocks, talk about what you hope to accomplish." He crossed out that line, too.

"Accomplish? Well, I've always wanted to graduate at the top of the class and maybe work for-"

"No, no, no," James said, shaking his head. "I mean, what do you want to accomplish this year? As Head Girl?"

"Oh," I said, blushing. Why did I always make the stupidest remarks around James? "I don't know really. I want to do a lot."

He smiled at me. "Yes. I figured as much. But what exactly do you want to do?"

"I want to work with the prefects and I want to actually do things for, and with the school. And you know, despite what people think, I really do want it to be fun. I want the dances to be great; I want to have the Hogsmeade trips to be better than they've ever been; I want the Leaving Ball to be the best Hogwarts has ever seen. I want this year to be so unbelievable that there won't be any words to describe it. I want the other prefects to look back after I've graduated and say, 'Damn. Lily Evans was an amazing Head Girl.' I want this year to go down as one of the greatest Hogwarts has ever had. And I want people to associate that with…well, with me." I finished, looking up at James.

"You're blushing," was all he said, a grin on his face.

My hands instantly flew to my cheeks. Damn traitors. "I do that a lot."

"I noticed," he said, his hand tugging on my ponytail. "But don't worry. It looks cute."

"Oh," I said, blushing further, wondering why I was so happy that he thought I was 'cute'.

"Well, anyway," he said, turning back to the parchment. "Those are really good things you mentioned. Why don't you just talk about them?"

He had a point. Why shouldn't I talk about them? "Okay. What then?"

"What else do you need?"

"I don't know. Elaboration, maybe?"

James shook his head again. "Why? This isn't supposed to be a big deal, Lily." I tried to ignore how nicely he said my name. "You're just supposed to talk about the things you want to get done. You said them already."

"Yeah, but...is that enough?"

"Haven't you ever heard that less is more?"

"Yes. But it's not. Less is less. And more is more. That's all there is too it."

He smiled at me again, looking at me as if I was a little girl who just proclaimed that I turned five today. "You've got a lot to learn about life, Lily Evans."

"I know enough."

"But not nearly as much as you need."

I was about to retort, but James' watch suddenly went berserk; shaking, and yelling "You're late, you're late for a very important date! No time to say hello. GOODBYE! You're late, you're late, you're late!" James pressed something on its side, and it stopped as we both stared at it.

James chuckled nervously. "Well, uh."

"I hope it wasn't talking about your period or anything."

He looked at me. "Yes, it was. I forgot to tell you. I'm really a woman and since it appears that I missed my period," here, he shuddered, "it would stand to reason that I'm pregnant."

"Congratulations!" I exclaimed, feigning happiness. "Can I plan the shower?"

"You have more spunk than I thought," James laughed.

I shrugged. "Not usually."

"Ah. So, your spunkiness is localized to me?"

"Don't flatter yourself," I grinned. "I'm merely happy about your 'new arrival'."

James laughed again. He had an awfully nice laugh. "You're –"

But whatever he was going to say got cuff off as the watch shook again, "YOU'RE LATE GODDAMN IT! GET YOUR ARSE UP AND GO!"

I couldn't stop laughing. "Go. Your girlfriend obviously doesn't want to be kept waiting." I said, a funny feeling in my stomach.

"I'd hardly call having to meet the gang for a broomstick ride a date…"

I suddenly felt very evil and tried to look innocent. "Oh. Will you be riding each other's broomsticks?"

James, for his part, looked confused. "No, we'll probably ride our own – OH! God, Evans. Who knew you had such a dirty mind?"

"What are you talking about?" I blinked my eyes, feigning complete naivety. "I was simply asking a question."

He smiled again and was about to say something but his watch shook so hard it almost fell off his hand and screamed again. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING! IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR BIG ARSE OUTSIDE IN FIVE MINUTES, I WILL YELL TO THE WORLD ABOUT THE TIME YOU WENT DOWN TO THE CLUB IN MUGGLE LONDON LAST SUMMER AND GOT YOUR –"But James shut it off violently, turning redder than my hair as he rushed to his feet. He all but ran for the door throwing a "See you in a bit, Evans" past his shoulder.

I laughed. Oh yes, things were interesting indeed.

Well. Not too different, but there were some notable changes.

Many of you have asked before if I'd like to read your stories and give some concrit, but since the reviews are gone, and I can't go through the 700 or so I have saved on my computer, just leave the name of the story, and your penname, and whatever website you'd like me to read it on (or just a link to it, if that's easier) in a review. And let me know if you'd like to me to review or just email you with my response, in which case I will need an email address.

The next update really shouldn't take so long, because I'm just going to work on it during my lunch breaks. I want to completely update the story, and put up at least one new chapter by the start of school. I do have most of chapter six done, but there's so much I want to happen in it, and there are so many new things that have already been revealed…I don't want to pile it on. I will confer with Selly and put any changes on my LJ, so make sure you guys check it out.

Speaking of which, the review responses will be up a day or two after this update, so make sure you guys read it. I answered a lot of the reviews, and a few questions you guys have had as well. It won't take long, I promise, but it will make some more things clear.