Author's Note: I own no person, no place, no thing – except the plot! If you recognize it, it probably belongs to Ms. Rowling or some other awesome super-human.

Chapter 23 Superhero

Fred Weasley re-cast his Warming charm as he stood in the shadow of the building that faced the brick structure that supposedly housed the Muggle version of his younger siblings' long-missing friend. He and George had volunteered to help Ginny when Ron became angrier and more unstable at the mention of Hermione's defection from the Wizarding Community. Fortunately Ron was now so caught up in Auror training that he was away from the Burrow for days and weeks at a time. Unfortunately for Hermione though, it was Ron who'd used his Auror training to track her magical signature to Mafalda Hopkirk's private office. When Ginny came home from her visit to Mafalda with news of the Muggle photo of Hermione and an unknown Muggle man, Ron had flown into a jealous rage.

"You mean to tell me that fucking bitch left me for a Muggle? She lied to all of us, put us through Hell, for a Muggle?" he'd screamed at his sister and anyone who would listen.

Fred rolled his eyes. He didn't blame Hermione at all if she'd run off with a Muggle, with what a crap-tastic arsehole Ron had turned out to be as a boyfriend to the poor girl. Mafalda seemed to agree with the consensus that Ron be kept out of the loop as to Hermione's whereabouts, and had only left Ginny the vaguest of clues and a promise to get in touch with Hermione directly after the new year to ask permission to send Ginny her contact information.

It was Fred, who'd been visiting his Father and Percy in the Ministry for lunch just the day before, who'd pieced together Hermione's true location. He had been sitting in his Dad's office reading an old Muggle newspaper – his Dad did love to read the Muggle news, when he'd seen a third page article about an anonymous young woman who'd beaten off her attacker in a park in Surrey, and that attacker had turned out to be a man wanted in several unsolved rape cases on a nearby Muggle university campus. There had been a small photograph of a street with Muggle cars and uniformed officers – and a fairly clear shot of one Hermione Granger, standing to the side and trying to look inconspicuous.

What had surprised Fred further though, was the form of Draco Malfoy standing next to her, holding her hand. He hadn't mentioned it to Ginny for fear of even voicing the news out loud, but the photo in the Muggle paper led Fred to believe that the framed Muggle photograph Ginny had seen in Mafalda's office was of Hermione wrapped up in the arms of his younger brother's greatest rival.

And now, on New Year's Eve, he received confirmation of this suspicion as the Muggle versions of Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy stepped out of the doorway he'd been watching. They were bundled up against the weather, but dressed to go out to a party, and each held a squirming white puppy. Fred watched in surprise as Malfoy opened the door of a Gryffindor-red car so that Hermione could slide in. Then Malfoy leaned down to hand her his puppy, and closed her door. As Malfoy ran around the car to the opposite side, a gust of wind blew up the alley that Fred was standing in, which blew his cloak about wildy. Malfoy must have noticed the movement, because his head whipped over to the very space that Fred was standing in. Fred quickly mumbled a Disillusionment charm and pulled himself further into the shadows.

Had Malfoy seen him? Fred didn't know for sure. But Malfoy gave the area a quick sweep with his eyes again, then popped his door open and climbed into the car.

Fred waited until the car was out of sight before he Disapparated to the flat he shared with his twin, and more recently, his younger sister. Ginny had taken to spending time above the shop at 93 Diagon Alley as a sanctuary against their Mother, who could not understand what "leave me alone to wallow in my grief!" meant, and against Ron, who was rapidly becoming the new poster boy for why one shouldn't give angry, unstable people positions of authority or advanced magical training.

Ginny had her feet propped on the coffee table and a blanket wrapped around her body to ward off the winter chill. Fred waved his wand to re-heat the room and set the logs ablaze in the fireplace, then sat down next to his younger sister and pecked her on the cheek.

"Did you find her?" Ginny asked as she leaned into the warmth of her elder brother.

"I did, and she is indeed in Little Whinging. She looks happy, Gin. Hell, she looks like any other Muggle, really. Are you sure we can't just leave her alone? It was her decision after all, to leave…"

"No! This involves her too! And Harry would never forgive me if I didn't include her. She'll be able to help so much, Fred!"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Gin. Hermione is not the go-to answer for everything. You think we Weasley's can't figure this out on our own?" Fred asked, offended.

"Of course not! We need her! She's going to be the key to our success or failure, and you know it," Ginny said as she smoothed out the wrinkles in the blanket that covered her from neck to knee.

"Yeh, I know, Gin. But you're going to have to be a little patient. We can't go to her until Ron leaves on his next training mission. I can't take the risk of him even being in the country to follow us, because if he were to see what I saw tonight, he'd kill her for sure," Fred said sadly.

Ginny breathed in a sharp gasp. "Fred! What in Godric's name did you see that would make you say that?"

Fred sighed, and then straightened as he heard his twin tromp up the stairs. George Weasley opened the front door and held out the bags of Chinese take-away that Ginny had begged for an hour ago.

"All right, Ginevra Khan, I have brought the Mongolian Beef, the Mongolian Chicken, and the sizzling rice soup. Now please remove your angry hoardes of plastic rainbow-colored ponies from my bedroom so I can get ready! I'm supposed to be meeting Angelina in half an hour! Oi, Freddie, aren't you going tonight? Why aren't you dressed yet?"

"He found Hermione!" Ginny offered as she eagerly opened her hands for the boxes of take-away.

George's mouth dropped open in shock, then he narrowed his eyes as he took in Fred's drawn expression. "Why aren't you two rejoicing then? For that matter, why are we all still here? I thought finding her was a matter of some urgency?"

Fred shook his head. "There's a complication. We have no choice but to wait until the next time Ron's out of the country before we can go to her. We can't risk him finding her. Someone will end up in Azkaban or worse if Ron finds Hermione."

"That's a rather dramatic take on the situation isn't it, brother of mine? What could be so bad about a Muggle Hermione that would incite Ickle Ronnie to such an extreme level of violence that law breaking would occur?"

Fred blew out a breath and looked at his twin. "Hermione's live-in boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, should suffice, don't you think?"

Ginny's loud gasp was followed immediately by violent choking as her throat and esophagus fought against the large mouthful of beef she'd been chewing. Fred hurriedly waved his wand and accio'd the beef into his hand – a thoroughly disgusting, albeit life-saving trick they'd learned early in life from their Mother – as George Summoned a glass of water from the kitchen.

"Are you all right, Gin? Sorry, I should have waited until your mouth was clear," Fred apologized as Ginny gulped down the water. Finally she sat the glass down on the table and waved her hands in front of her watering eyes.

"Shite," she said. "That was unexpected."

"Bloody Hell, Freddie. Are you sure?" George asked. Fred nodded his head.

"If Ron were to find out-" Ginny began, but Fred cut her off.

"He can't find out, and you both know it. They're both Muggles now, but I don't think that would stop Ron from attacking them. It would be a bloodbath," Fred said sternly, and George nodded his agreement.

"Right, so from here on out, we don't speak of it outside of this room, but the plan will be to visit Hermione as soon as Ron is confirmed to be out of the country. I think he's planning on leaving again with his group shortly after the new year. Maybe a week from today at the latest?" George said.

Fred nodded. "That should give us time to prepare as well. I want to make sure we have back-up stories in place to distract Mum as well as anyone else who may want to follow us-"

George snorted. "The fucking media, the fucking Ministry, the fucking fans OR the fucking rogue Death Eaters. I swear to Godric, the best thing our family could do is just pack up and leave England entirely."

Fred looked up in surprise at his twin's declaration. This had been his secret hope since the incident with the collapsing wall at the final battle last Spring, and George knew it well.

"You might be right, Georgie. After all," Fred reached over and patted his sister's blanket and beef covered mid-section, "it's not just about us anymore, is it?'

Ginny elbowed him in the ribs. "Get away from my food, Freddie," she growled. "And stop touching my belly, you'll wake him up."

/…../

Draco released his hold on Hermione's legs and allowed them to rest on the floor again, but refrained from letting her go from her position against the bathroom wall. Both of their chests were heaving from the exertion of what they'd just done, and Hermione in particular had gone very red in the face. She ducked her flushing cheeks against his chest as the giggles overwhelmed her.

"I can't believe… we just did… that … in here !" she choked out between her giggles.

"In my defense, I can't believe you're not wearing anything under that dress, Girl. Surely you were expecting this kind of reaction when I found out," Draco panted as he ran his hands down her mussed hair.

"Well sure I was, but just not until later. You know, once we were in the privacy of our home?" Hermione asked as she pushed against her boyfriend so that she could fix her dancing dress back into place.

"Why put off until later what we can do right now? Besides, this is a remarkably clean loo. Actually it's one of the nicest Muggle toilets I've ever seen. We should leave the owners a thank you note," Draco smirked down at his girlfriend, whose blush deepened.

"Well I hope you enjoyed your last shag of the year, Mr. Malfoy, because, unless mine ears deceive me, they're all doing the countdown right now," Hermione sniffed.

"Oh, bollocks. Well hurry up and let's go out and join the group," Draco said as he re-zipped his trousers and straightened his shirt and tie. He picked his jacket up from the hook on the door and slipped it back onto his shoulders.

Hermione paused. "Draco, I can't. I have to…" She waved at the toilet and sink. Draco raised an eyebrow. "Oh come off it, Malfoy! I have to get cleaned up. You might be able to just tuck and go, but I am not about to go walking around that party with your… stuff… running down my legs!"

Draco snorted his amusement, and made to leave the room, but Hermione grabbed his arm. "Don't leave! Who in the world are you planning on snogging at midnight if not me?"

Draco looked in askance at his girlfriend. "Hermione, I don't think we've quite progressed to that point in our relationship yet where I'd be comfortable snogging you whilst you're sitting on the toilet. No offense."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Draco, honestly. Are you deaf?" Then she tugged on his tie and pulled him into her kiss just as the masses of partiers outside shouted, "HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

Draco sighed and pulled Hermione closer into his arms as he deepened their kiss. He'd been feeling rather melancholy about the New Year. The past year had been one of the most traumatic ones of his life. Everything he'd ever known had changed and been flipped on its head, and he was well and truly happy for it, but with a new year came three hundred sixty-five days of potential unknowns. He couldn't deny that he was massively worried about his and Hermione's future. Where would they be at this point next year? Would they still be safe and snug in the Fortress in Little Whinging? Would he be able to convince Hermione to drop the ridiculous Granger-Malfoy title she'd plastered all over their lives and property to just be a Malfoy with him? He sighed again as Hermione broke away from him.

"Don't leave, Draco. Just turn around for a minute and I'll get cleaned up, then we can re-join the party," Hermione said as she spun him around by his shoulders. He nodded absently as he turned away from the sight of his girlfriend, and sighed again.

"What's got you so glum, Mr. Malfoy?" Hermione asked as she hiked up her dress to quickly and efficiently clean up the evidence of her and Draco's romp in the restroom.

"Nothing," he said as he stared at the wood grain of the door.

Hermione snorted. "Whatever. You've sighed three times since I kissed you. What, are you worried I've broken some cardinal rule of our relationship by peeing with you in the room? Because I assure you, this won't be happening regularly. I just didn't want to kick you out, only to have to search through five hundred strangers to find you again once I'm done."

Draco chuckled. "No, it's not that. I'm just being melancholy. Or nostalgic, maybe. I'm nervous about what lies ahead for us, you know? A lot has changed for you and I in the last year. And it's been so damned peaceful and easy, these past few months, just existing and living with you. I don't want that to end, and I can't help but feel apprehensive of what could possibly be coming for us." His mind drifted to that fleeting image of a humanoid shape with the snap of fabric whipping around its legs. Had his imagination come up with the shock of ginger hair? Was he being paranoid?

Hermione flushed, re-situated her dress, and went to the sink to wash her hands and smooth down her mussed hair.

"Oh, Draco. I can't say I'm not worried too, but you seem to have forgotten something," she began as she dried her hands, then drifted over to join him at the door. She popped the lock and pulled him out to the dance floor, only dropping his hand to snag two champagne glasses as they were passed around by a waiter.

"Happy New Year, darling," she said as she passed him a glass and snuggled up against his side.

Draco wrapped one arm around Hermione's waist and clinked their glasses together. "Happy New Year, Love. Now tell me, what am I forgetting?" he asked as he brought his flute to his mouth.

"Obviously you've forgotten that you and I are not normal people. We're smart, we're strong, we're financially stable…"

"Young, brilliant, incredibly good looking and ridiculously wealthy? You think that's going to hold back the tide?" Draco asked incredulously.

"Don't be glib, Draco, I'm being serious. Look at these people around us," Hermione said as she gestured to the enormous ball room they stood in. Somewhere in the press of well-dressed people were four of their close friends, but for right now she and Draco were lost in a sea of anonymous humanity.

"Look," she said. "Not everyone has to go through everything you and I have gone through, and bully for them. But we're not a couple of fools wandering around in the world. We ARE smart, we ARE strong, and we're damned good fighters if I say so myself. Whatever does come for us, don't you think that you and I are far better prepared than a regular young couple? I mean, honestly, Draco. We're practically superheroes compared to the average person."

Draco raised an eyebrow in faux shock. "Ms. Granger! I don't believe I've ever heard you say something so arrogant in the entire decade I've known you. I really am rubbing off on you!"

Hermione giggled. "Be serious, Draco! Think about it. We have secret identities, secret fortunes, secret skills…"

Draco warmed up to her imagery. "Don't forget the fact that our regular daily costumes used to include cloaks, and the fact that I have actually flown faster than a speeding bullet." He laughed in delight as Hermione held onto her stomach and shuddered. He bent down and whispered in her ear. "One day, Little Girl, I'm going to get you on a broom. And I promise to make it an experience worth repeating." Then he licked the side of her neck, just under her jaw. Hermione shuddered again.

Draco stood back up straight and looked her in the eye. "You don't believe me?" he asked.

"Actually I do believe you, Draco. I have a feeling you of all people would be able to convince me to enjoy flying on a broom," Hermione said, then tipped her champagne glass to empty it.

"Well, it IS one of my secret skills," Draco bragged. Hermione's eyebrow lifted in query, so he bent to her ear again and whispered, "Getting you to bend to my will, Love. I did, after all, just convince you to shag me in a public toilet."

Hermione's laughter rang out, causing many heads to turn in their direction. Draco smirked down at his girlfriend, but then his head snapped up as he heard his name being called. A red-bearded and tuxedoed Shaun Fraser wove through the crowd, with his wife, young Renton, and Lindy trailing along behind them. Shaun was waving his mobile in the air, and Sue, Lindy and young Renton each held two champagne flutes.

"Oi, you two! We've been looking for you all over! We have to celebrate!" Shaun called as the couples converged together. Once everyone held a champagne glass, Shaun held up his mobile and read from the screen.

"Gwendolyn and Michael would like to announce the arrival of their son, Gabriel Scott MacLeod, born at 12:03 in this new year. Weighing in at three point four kilograms and measuring forty-nine and a half centimeters."

Hermione, Sue and Lindy all cheered and cooed and squealed with happiness, and the men all laughed at the odd noises coming from their companions.

Shaun held up his champagne flute and shouted, "To new beginnings! To health and happiness, and bountiful bairns for you all!"

Young Renton and Draco both groaned in mock horror, but good-naturedly clinked glasses with the rest of the group.

Sue raised her glass and said, "To a new life, to a new family, and to a bright and wonderful future!"

Young Renton piped in, "To birth control! Sorry love, not this year, please!" Lindy rolled her eyes, then she and Hermione laughed as Draco raised his glass in young Renton's direction.

"I'd like to second that. Shaun, you're a sick man to wish that on us now," he said, and Hermione patted his arm comfortingly.

"I'd like to third that," she said. "I've got puppies to potty-train."

Lindy's eyes widened as she looked up at her husband beseechingly. "Can we please get a puppy? Please?" She batted her eyelashes at her bemused spouse, who nodded in silent agreement. Everyone laughed again as Lindy clapped her hands and jumped up and down.

"Oh ho! My New Year's prophecy has already come true!" Shaun declared, and waved a passing waiter over to claim six new flutes.

"Shaun, dear, you wished them all babies," Sue pointed out.

"Depends on how you look at it, Susie," Shaun said as he passed out the full champagne glasses and collected the empties for the waiter. "Baby dogs are after all, still babies. I'm sure Draco and young Renton will agree with me."

Sue, Lindy and Hermione all laughed as Draco and young Renton nodded hastily.

"Definitely," Draco said.

"I completely agree," young Renton added.

/.../

To: bibliophile3

From: bibliophile1

Subject: Spies in Little Whinging?

Dear Mafalda,

Happy New Year and all that shite, but you know damned well that's not why I'm sending you an email in the middle of the fucking night. Number One, who the hell is Arabella Figg and why wasn't I told about her? And Number Two, who was the ginger haired and cloaked individual standing outside mine and Hermione's building this evening? Are we being watched? What the fuck is going on?

Please tell me you know something about this, because if you don't, I'm going to beg that you make it your business to find out.

DAM

/…../

Artemis and Apollo Granger-Malfoy tugged on their leashes to encourage their owner to walk faster. They had almost made it through the alleyway that led towards the infinitely large and exciting wonderland that was the Park, and both puppies had one thing on their mind: reconnaissance.

Well, that, and squirrels. Reconnaissance and squirrels.

But their owner would not be rushed. He stopped suddenly, halfway down the alley, and stooped to observe a space against the brick wall. Artemis and Apollo came to investigate as well. There was a set of boot prints in the otherwise unmarked snow. One set. No trail in, no trail out.

Draco's face drained of color as he took in the implications of the single pair of boot prints in the snow. He turned his head up to view the steep, two-story brickwork directly in front of him. No, unless it was God-damned Spiderman that he'd seen, a wizard had Apparated in and out of this exact location last night.

Bugger and fuck-all.

And why the hell hadn't he heard back from Mafalda yet? She'd seemed perfectly sanguine with the idea of the Blackberry when he gave it to her at Christmas, and they'd exchanged several emails in the days immediately following. He didn't have time for a bloody letter to make it through the post – those seemed to take nearly a week to get from Draco into Mafalda's hands.

Suddenly Draco thought of his other, all new, option for quick contact into the Ministry. It was time for him to have a talk with Ms. Arabella Figg.

Draco pulled his mobile out of his jumper pocket and dialed up Renny.

"Hey, Ren, what do you think of a double date this evening with your new lady friend? Hermione's quite excited to meet her," he said.

/…../

Later that same evening, Hermione and Renny dipped into Hermione's practice studio to fiddle around with a new song while Draco cleared the dinner dishes. He watched Bella out of the corner of his eye as he loaded the plates into the dish washer. She sat on the couch with Apollo, who was busy chewing happily on her hand as she petted his belly. There was not a single thing either threatening or even shifty about the woman, so Draco couldn't for the life of him understand why the woman hadn't revealed her true identity to him months before.

Draco walked into the living area and set a tea mug down the table in front of the older woman, then sat down on the couch next to her.

"So," Draco said, "maybe we can introduce ourselves properly now, eh?" He held out his hand. "Draco Malfoy, former Second Aerial Captain, Order of the Phoenix. Order of Merlin, Third Class. Suppressed wizard, convicted of crimes against humanity while under-age, and sentenced to five years in exile, which I am currently serving here in Little Whinging. And you are?"

Bella shook his outstretched hand. "Draco, I didn't know it would matter to you either way who I was. It's not my position-"

Draco cut her off, even as he continued to shake her hand. "Who. Are. You?"

Bella sighed. "Arabella Figg. Watcher, currently serving the Order of the Phoenix under direct command of Minister Shackelbolt. Squib. Widowed by Death Eaters and recruited to the Order by my elder brother and by Albus Dumbledore before you and young Harry were even born."

Draco frowned. "I didn't know we had any squib Watchers."

"Well, it's not exactly information necessary for you to have to fight on the front lines, you know? And besides, we squibs have no way of defending ourselves if our identity is discovered. So, no. You wouldn't have known. The squib Watchers report directly to the head of the Order only, and only the head of the Order knows whom they all are, or where they're located. I've had this assignment for a long time, Draco. It's only been a couple of years between Harry's departure and your arrival, and in that time we fought a nasty war. Well, you lot did. I just sat out here and watched the Muggles." Bella shrugged. "But we all do our part, and eventually the Light will win. Don't you agree?"

Draco waved his hand. "That's entirely beside the point. What I want to know is, why have you been watching me for months, but never let me know who you really are? You saw that I was having a rough go of it before Hermione came along. Why didn't you step in, offer assistance? I can't imagine it's because you despise me, because there'd be no need to befriend me if that was the case. And if you're reporting to the Minister, who else knows I'm here? My true location is supposed to be somewhat of a secret, you know? And Hermione's too, for that matter."

"Oh, it's nothing so nefarious as what you're presuming, Draco. As far as I'm aware Minister Shackelbolt and Ms. Hopkirk are the only ones who know of your whereabouts. I just didn't want to bother you unless it was absolutely necessary that I step in. After all, it blows my cover too if we're positively identified together. Truly, I've just been doing my job, and I was specifically asked not to interfere. But now, with Mordecai…" Bella drifted off as a faint blush covered her cheeks.

Draco frowned. "Are you doing that on purpose? Seeing Renny to gain association with Hermione and I? Because that's-"

"Oh! No, no, Draco. I could never use someone like that, especially an innocent man like Mordecai. He's a very nice man, don't you think?" Bella's cheeks turned a deeper pink.

"Yes, he is a nice man, and I don't want you messing him about," Draco snapped. Then he sighed. "Sorry. Look, I don't like being kept in the dark. It's kind of been the story of my life, and I was really hoping to get away from all that shite. So, in the future, don't hide from me. You're not the only one with no way to defend yourself if your cover is blown. I've got Hermione to think about too, and she's a rather high-profile target, I warrant, for some rogue Death Eater-" Draco cut himself off.

"Wait a second. Bella, what do you know about the wizard I saw watching our front door last night? Is there someone guarding us that I just wasn't informed about, or are Hermione and I being watched by someone else? I've asked Mafalda, but I haven't gotten any reply from her."

Bella's eyes went wide and round with surprise. "No, Draco, you're not being watched by anyone except me, as far as I've been made aware. But I'll owl the Minister this evening to ask, to be sure. Could you give me a description of the wizard so I can include it?"

Draco shook his head. "Not really. I saw his cloak snap in the wind, and he disappeared within a moment after I turned my head towards the movement. I didn't hear him Disapparate, so he likely just Disillusioned himself, or merely pulled far enough into shadow I couldn't see him anymore. All I could say was that he was a least near my height, which is why I'm assuming it was a wizard and not a witch, and possibly ginger-haired."

"Oh dear, that's not a lot to go on, Draco. How do you know it was a wizard then? Couldn't it have just been a person with a blanket?" Arabella asked.

Draco shook his head. "Unless that person dropped straight out of the sky to land in the snow, then jumped straight back up into the sky exactly the way he came in. He left no trail in and out, so he could have only gone up and out. And last I heard, Hermione and I were the only people close to capable of those kinds of activities that lived around here. And since neither of us has a wand right now, I am positive it was neither her nor I."

"I really have no idea, Draco, but I promise I'll write to the Minister immediately to find out."

"Why not Mafalda?" Draco asked.

Bella stood up and reached to take her and Draco's mugs to the kitchen sink. "Honestly, this is an Order matter, and Kingsley is still the head of the Order. Mafalda is a competent enough witch, but she was a file clerk for the Wizengamot before she became a judge. Whereas Kingsley-"

"Whereas Kinglsey is an Auror first, politician second. I see your point. Look, Bella. You have access I don't, and I can't leave this unresolved. There was someone here last night. That someone specifically saw Hermione and I walk out of our home together and get in our car. While you're waiting to hear back from the Minister, Hermione and I have already started doing perimeter sweeps of our building just to make sure we can't find any signs of tampering. But we have no idea what can slip by us, being Muggles. I want this resolved within a week. If I don't hear anything, I'm going to presume the worst. And if I don't hear something by the end of the week, I'm packing my family up and leaving."

To Be Continued.

Author's Note: So, yes. Fred lives… Sorry, there's no way I could kill off Fred. Also, to everyone who reviewed the pants off my past chapter, thank you so much! I got a lot of insight as to how you all are viewing my progress, and that helps my writing tremendously. It really does! Remember, reviews aren't just an author's way of digging for compliments, they're a big help in our creative process.

And finally, I really enjoy communicating with you all via pm's, but I'm starting to confuse the shite out of myself, with who I have and have not told what. Also, there's all these little oddities that come into my mind that I'd love to tell you all that have to do with this story, or photos I'd like to post, but I just can't do on our beloved fanfiction site – so I started a twitter account. I'm gasping in horror at the arrogance of it, because I've always thought of twitter as being something for cool people that actually have kitchy little cool things to tell all their cool fans… But the thing is, I don't want to use Facebook, the pm's are truly starting to confuse the shite out of me (not that I won't pm you all anymore, I'm just rather disorganized right now and I don't want to let anything slip through the cracks un-noticed!), and I do have lots of kitchy little cool things in my crazy-arse writer's mind I'd like to share with anyone who wants to know.

So… yeh. Twitter. It's not just for cool people! Okay, so I'm not super savvy on this whole thing, but the twitter address is acro_acro1. My name on there, believe it or not, is acro acro.