Author's Responses at the end:

Chapter Thirteen: Confessions

Deanna did the rounds with her staff upon her return to lunch. Most of their patients were treated on an outpatient basis, but there were some patients with lingering issues that required prolonged stays.

She got back to her office and started on the pages and pages of reports that needed to be filed or approved. It was while she was on her third report that her desk-sized PADD beeped at her. She minimized her desk monitor and put the new message on the main wall monitor.

It was a message confirming that her records search was complete. "Computer, display results," she said.

The results came from the Office of National Statistics in the old United Kingdom of Great Britain, located in Newport, South Wales. It was from a single line in a census record from the 1991 C.E. census. It listed the names Vernon and Petunia Dursley, child Dudley Dursley, nephew Harry Potter.

Nephew. "Ancillary search: Harry Potter."

Now that she knew where to search, Deanna quickly found what she wanted. "Multiple references found."

"Display."

Deanna read the display in confusion. "Computer, identify NSPCC."

"National Society for the Prevention of Child Cruelty," the computer responded. It spoke in a young, pleasant male voice. "It was founded in 1889 in the United Kingdom and was disbanded in 2161."

Deanna started reading the files. "Is there record of any resolution to these accusations?"

"No record of prosecution can be found," the computer said. "All cases dismissed due to insufficient evidence."

She continued to read through files and files of abuse accusations, until they ended abruptly in 1991. She looked further until her hand froze over the controller. It was a picture: a young boy, with broken wire-frame glasses held together by tape. The boy was perhaps nine or a small ten at the time the photo was taken. His most remarkable features were his shock of unkempt black hair and a pair of brilliant green eyes. He was staring into the camera with a frightened, hurt expression.

The picture was dated 1990. "That's him," she whispered. "But how…"

* * *

"Grams' full name was Margaret Ginevra Potter Dulhaim," Susan explained after they watched the hologram. "Mother said that even her mother used to call her Grams, so she was older than anyone else we knew."

"If she was like us," Bill said, "maybe…maybe we live longer."

"But then there's the book," Susan pointed out. "And the pictures. She knew about us before I even met any of the others. But where is Naomi?"

"I was born on a Starship 70,000 light years away," Noami said. "And the year she made that note I was interning on the USS Trident."

Bill, though, was looking at the badly burned book. "The circle has five spaces."

"But there were only four of us," Susan said.

"I'm still confused as to what actually happened when you did this ritual Margaret told you about," Beverly said.

Diana hunched over. "There were ghosts."

"Thousands and thousands of ghosts," Mary added. "I've never been so scared in my life."

"I wasn't, though," Susan said. "Grams was there. She was a ghost. She spoke to me. She told me to complete the ceremony. That…" She closed her eyes as if trying to remember. Then she paled. "She called him Grandpapa!"

"That's right!" Mary said. "She said 'Let my beloved Grandpapa live again'!"

Diana leaned into Bill—she managed to snag the seat on his right. "She called him a being of purest love."

"But she said we were all virgins," Katherine pointed out. She looked at Naomi. "She called us pure. You're too old and to pretty to be a virgin."

"She wasn't talking about virginity," Bill said. "I think she was talking about your souls."

Beverly leaned forward. "What do you mean?"

"There is a girl in school named Jess."

"We know her," Katherine said darkly.

"She's not pure," he said. "I think she's done things in her life that were mean."

"Like sabotage a skimmer to keep me from playing?" Katherine said.

"Exactly. I think Grams meant that all of you are pure souls. You are good people. The kind of people that I could fall in love with," Bill said.

"So I finished the ceremony," Susan continued. "And then Grams' ghost said something about magic…"

Mary, with the sharpest memory of them all, said, '"And we, the last children of magic, give our souls for him, so all that we were and all that we could be shall not pass forever into the night."

"That's it," Susan said.

"Magic?" Bill said, playing with the word.

"A very famous twentieth-century writer once said that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic," Beverly said. "This all seems to point to the idea that there is a history behind these genetic differences of ours. Perhaps those ghosts you saw are just anaphasic life forms. Perhaps we ourselves are anaphasic life forms crouched within carbon-based bodies. We understand how psycho kinesis works. If a society four hundred years ago were to encounter psycho kinesis, they would probably label it as magic."

"Which implies there is a history behind who we are," Mary said.

"But how do we find out?" Bill asked.

"By returning to the scene of the crime, of course," Beverly said. "Think your parents would be up to letting you take another field trip?"

* * *

Deanna knew who Bill was. He was an abused boy from four hundred years ago; a boy who had no official government record after he turned eleven. Moreover, the date was disturbing. That was during Khan's rise to power—within two years Khan would rule almost quarter of the world. For Bill—no, Harry—to have grown up during the Eugenics War meant that he had lived through World War Three.

It was too much to process. She needed to talk to Bashir.

"Dr. Deanna Riker?" a voice asked.

She stopped and turned around. A man was approaching her in an unmarked black uniform. He appeared to be in his forties with thinning blonde hair and very blue eyes. "Yes?"

"My name is David Masters with Starfleet Intelligence. May I have a word with you in your office?"

"What is this about?" Deanna demanded.

"In your office, ma'am?" he said with polite insistence.

She followed him back to her office and allowed the door to close. "What is this about?"

"You accessed a watched file," he said. "What do you know about Harry Potter?"

Deanna took a deep breath. The man was utterly intense, but she could not read any emotion off him. Either he was very good, or he was shielding her somehow. "I will need to confirm your credentials before I discuss confidential patient information with you, Mr. Masters."

Before she could hit her com badge, he had a phaser pointed at her head. "One shot, and there will be nothing left of your body," he said, still somehow hiding his emotions. "And then we will go after Dr. Bashir. I understand he has two children. They attend the Archer Middle School. Jahdzia and Benjamin. If that doesn't work, then we will find new targets. Perhaps a photon torpedo on all the local schools." He leaned forward until his nose was a hair's breath from hers. "Do not doubt for a moment that we won't kill every man woman and child in this city if we have to. Now tell me what you know about Harry Potter."

Deanna lifted her chin. "Go ahead and fire," she said calmly.

Instead of firing, a gloved fist slammed into her stomach, dropping her to her knees. She threw up bile and blood. "I am not a patient man, Doctor. Death is a last resort, but only because you'll then be useless to us. We would much rather keep you alive and in screaming agony. The choice is yours."

Deanna's choice was made. She hit her com badge and shouted, "Will, help me!" seconds before Masters' foot slammed into her face.

He knelt down beside her and disappeared in a flash of green light a second before several columns of white light appeared. Admiral Riker, Commander Ezri Dax and several security officers instantly spread around the room.

"Admiral!" Ezri said, pointing at the pool of blood and bile.

"Find her!" Riker roared. "Tear this building apart and find my wife!"

* * *

The Caraoughs were surprisingly accommodating when they gave Mary permission to go to Scotland. This might have been due to the fact that the request came personally from the wife of their Prime Minister.

Commander Dunningham was at her follicle treatments, so it was Jeff Dunningham who answered the door. After his eyes stopped bulging, he looked at Katherine, then Bill. "Do you really want to go?" he finally asked.

"I want to be with Bill," she said with the utter conviction of a woman in love.

Jeff leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Then go. I'll deal with your mom."

"Who knows," Katherine said, "maybe I'll learn how to bring her hair back."

He grinned; then shrugged. "Oddly enough, I think it's kind of attractive. I love you, Sweetie."

"I know, Daddy," Katherine said.

Susan's parents were not as thrilled, until Susan told them the story of what really happened. The fact that it was essentially Grams that put them all on the path made the Chamberlains feel somewhat responsible.

"We're looking for answers," Bill finally told them. "We know now that I didn't change your daughter, I just woke up what was always in her. Now we want to know why we're different."

"Will you take care of her?" Peter Chamberlain demanded.

"With my life," he said. "I do love her, sir. And I will never do anything to hurt her. Ever."

Their last stop was Carey Boxing. Diana's mother was shy and awkward around Beverly, but still asked to speak with Bill alone. Bill walked with her to the woman's room, leaving the others in the apartment.

Carey turned and looked at Bill for a very long time, before sitting down on the edge of her bed. "Diana is all I have," she said simply. "She's what I live for. Are you going to take her away from me?"

Bill knelt down in front of her and took her hand. "I want her as part of my life," he said. "I can't imagine being without her or any of the others. I want to marry her and have children and make her happy for the rest of her life. And if we do have children, they're going to need a grand mum to help take care of them." He gently took the older woman in a hug and held her, letting the warmth he possessed pour into her. "You won't be losing a daughter, you'll be gaining a family. I promise you this."

She was crying. He didn't realize at first because she was doing so in absolute silence, but she was crying into his shoulder. Bill realized then that Carey Boxing was almost like them. That there was something within her that called out to him, but without any of the strength of the others. She was like a mid-way point between him and a normal person. And because of that, she never, ever found the right person. She settled, and when she lost the one she settled for, she gave up on herself and lived for the little girl he was going to take away from her.

The realization came in a rush, and in that moment he loved Carey Boxing as if she were his own mother. He kissed her hair and continued to hold her. He still held her when the door opened and Diana whispered, "Mother?"

Carey looked up from Bill's shoulder, her face splotched from her crying. She got up, crossed the floor and clung to her daughter, still shaking with her tears. Diana held her back. "It's going to be okay," Diana said. "It's going to be okay, mother."

Bill walked to the couple and placed a comforting hand on Carey's back. "I told her that I wanted to marry you, Diana," he said softly. "That I couldn't imagine not having you in my life. And that your mother would always be a part of that life."

"Of course," Diana said. "Because I couldn't imagine you, mother, not being a part of mine."

"She should come with us," Bill decided. "I think she could have been like us. Do you feel it in her?"

"Yes," Diana said. "Come with us, mother. To Scotland."

"But…" Carey wiped her nose. "I thought you were going to…to be together."

"The power goes out whenever we kiss," Bill pointed out. "We can't do anything while flying there. We're going to try and find out more about where we come from. And that includes you. Please, come with us."

Carey finished wiping her eyes. "Okay," she said weakly.

"Come on, Mother," Diana said. "Let's get you cleaned up. Can't let the First Lady see you like that!"

They were airborne ten minutes later. However, before they were even out of California two Starfleet fighters formed up around them. Beverly looked out the window in confusion before touching her monitor. Before she had a chance to make a call, Admiral Riker's face appeared. He looked positively haggard.

"At last!" he said. "I've been trying to call you."

"Will, what's wrong?"

"Deanna has been kidnapped. Right out of her office. Her files were completely deleted. The kidnapper used a Borg-based transporter that went right through the building shields. She was researching your new pet, so if that's what they were after you could be in danger. I've assigned the escort for you and alerted Jean-Luc. He's arranging additional security for you in Scotland."

"Oh, Will, are you all right?"

"Doing the best I can," Will said. "There was evidence that she was hurt before they took her. Whatever you all are doing has definitely caught someone's attention."

"Please let me know if there is anything we can do," Beverly said.

"Jean-Luc has already put us in contact with surface authorities and all ship traffic has been stopped for inspections," Will said. "We'll find her. Riker out."

Beverly leaned back in her seat, confused.

Behind her, sitting snugly between Diana, Naomi and Katherine on one side and Mary and Susan on the other, Bill said, "Do you think this is about us?"

"Or you personally?" Beverly asked. "I don't know. But if someone was trying to stop us, that means we must be close to something important. So I say we keep going."

Bill made a point of looking at the women around him, and all nodded their agreement. "Okay, we keep going."

* * *

Hogwarts Valley looked the same. No grass. No vegetation at all, save for the rotting corpses of long dead trees. "Even the lake appears dead," Beverly said as she slipped her tricorder back into her purse. "I was under the impression there was supposed to be some residual radiation here, but there is no trace of it anymore."

"Maybe the ghosts took it with them," Diana said.

Bill stood on the edge of the lake staring across the water.

Naomi walked to his side and put an arm around his waist. "It feels wrong," he said. "Empty."

"Any specific memories?"

"No, just feelings. Like this place should be alive and happy, but it's not. It's cold and empty."

He turned and looked back at the castle. The others stood nearby. "Will you show me where I came from?" he asked them.

Susan stepped down, took his hand, and led him up the rise to the castle. They came at last to the round stone in the center of the shattered foundation. "What happened here?" he asked.

"This valley was the site of the last nuclear strike," Mary explained. "It was also one of the largest weapons used in the war. Almost twenty megatons."

"This foundation should be nothing but a crater," Beverly said.

"Exactly," Mary said. "Whatever destroyed the castle destroyed it from within. There wouldn't be even the remains of the trees if that missile had hit. So no one really knows what happened."

Bill knelt down and put a hand on the stone. "Feel this," he said suddenly.

With a look at each other, all the ladies knelt down. "It's warm," Diana said.

Even Beverly could feel it. She stood, removed her tricorder, which was shielded for Starfleet use, and scanned the rock. "Anaphasic energy signature," she whispered. "That would explain why no one could determine the energy signature. They were looking for a light source rather than a being."

Bill stood up. Overhead, Earth civilian defense fighters were making a lazy circle in the air, having taken over for the Starfleet fighters. "I want to go to London, please," he said at last.

"Then London it is," Beverly said. They piled back into the jitney and started the short flight to London. While in flight, the Prime Minister himself called.

"Beverly, what have you gotten yourself into now?" he asked.

"I'm helping a new friend of mine establish a harem," Beverly said with a straight face. "They're quite lovely. He's a very lucky young man."

"Indeed," Jean-Luc Picard said. He grinned and scratched his beard, though the grin was short lived. "I'm sure Will told you about Deanna. Is this possibly related?"

"We don't know for sure, but it's possible," Beverly said. "We're heading to London now."

"I'll contact Minister Whyte there and ask that you be given secure transport and escorts," he said. "These abductors used Borg technology. Even on the black market, that is difficult to come by. This implies there may be a Starfleet connection. Please be careful."

"We will, Jean-Luc. And I do have some exciting personal news for you. I'll tell you when I see you."

"Beverly, I thought we agreed I'm too old to be a father," Jean Luc said with a straight face.

Beverly chuckled. "Actually, I think we should adopt Naomi. Wouldn't it just be delicious to steal her away from Janeway?"

A strange gleam was visible in the famous leader's eyes even through the monitor. "That would indeed be a just and fitting outcome," he said. "After all, Picard is a much more civilized and auspicious name than Wildman."

"Of course, we'd probably have to take the whole harem she's joining too."

"Well, the chateau has been rather empty of late," Jean-Luc said. More seriously, he added, "Be well. Be safe."

"I will, Jean-Luc. I promise."

The signal ended. "I like him," Bill said into the chamber.

"He's going to get re-elected without a doubt," Katherine predicted.

Quietly, as if unsure of her place in the conversation, Carey said, "I voted for him."

"Well, there you go!" Beverly said, smiling fondly at Diana's mother.

The jitney landed without incident and they piled out to a waiting transport van that pulled up just moments after they landed. The van looked like a shorter version of the famous, ancient two-story buses that ran through London four centuries before. The second level was open but with shield relays around it.

Bill sat toward the front on the second level, pressed against the side. Naomi sat beside him, while Diana and Susan sat in front and Katherine and Mary sat behind. Beverly sat toward the front, flanked by her four security guards.

There was very little to see.

"It's all gone," Bill whispered. Tears were running down his face. He turned, almost accusingly, to Naomi. "Where's the city?"

"Bill?" she asked.

"Where's Whitechapel?" He stood and pointed out along the grassy shores of the river. In the distance to the north rose a line of gleaming towers, but the city he knew was simply not there. "Where's Southwark? I can see the Thames. Where is London Bridge? This isn't London!"

Naomi gently took his hand. Behind him, Katherine and Mary each placed a comforting hand on his back. He slowly sat down, trembling.

"Most of London was destroyed during World War III," Mary explained gently. "It was hit by three tactical nukes very late in the war, and after that Colonel Green used the grounds as a concentration camp for the irradiated and untreatable survivors. I'm sorry."

He looked back over the grassy knolls. "It's not supposed to be this way," he whispered. "It was supposed to be crowded and loud and busy, with lights and cars and families laughing."

"What else do you remember, Bill?" Beverly asked.

"Just that there is supposed to be more than just this!" He looked back over the side of the van. Then he became very still, even to the point where he stopped breathing. Far to the south, beyond the river, they could all see a black square rising into the sky. "What is that?" he asked.

"It's the memorial," Mary said. "My parents took me there when we lived in Paris."

Excitement washed through the van as Bill propped himself up on one knee. "We need to go there!"

Without hesitation Beverly relayed the request and the bus turned on one of the few surface roads and crossed the river. They saw people moving around the grasslands. Many were picnicking or flying kites. There were occasional benches and clumps of oak trees. It seemed idyllic.

The van came to a stop on a lot in front of the memorial. The building rose ten stories and was composed of solid black stone walls. Its only feature was a large circle taking up much of the North wall, with a strange flaming bird flying through it.

"What kind of bird is that supposed to be?" Carey Boxing asked.

Before Mary could answer, Bill said, "It's a phoenix."

"You recognize it?" Naomi asked him.

He nodded and grinned. "Can you feel it?"

Naomi and the others nodded. "What is it?" Diana asked.

Bill pointed at the monolithic building. "There. There's something in there. Power. It feels familiar." His excitement was contagious. The ladies seemed almost to be bouncing on their heels as they gathered around him. They held his hands or each others, but all six were touching when they started walking toward the foreboding memorial.

* * *

Bill tried to control his breathing. He looked at Naomi and Diana, Susan, Mary and Katherine, and smiled at all of them. "Thank you for being with me," he said.

"Where else would we be?" Susan asked.

He thought his heart would launch from her throat. "I love you girls," he whispered. "I really do."

"And we love you," Diana said as she clutched his hand.

"Don't know why yet," Mary added, "but we do."

They stepped through the non-descript glass doors into a large lobby. Almost immediately a pleasant female voice said, "Good morning and welcome to the Phoenix Memorial Museum. Would you like a guided tour?"

"Yes, please!" Bill said.

"Please follow the arrows in the floor."

An arrow lit up in front of him and Bill followed it with the ladies by his side, confused but also excited. Beverly followed a step behind much to the gawking and attention of everyone around them. Her security guards kept the attention-seekers at a safe distance. There were other people in front and behind him, but he didn't care. He could feel a trace of something in the air that made him excited and frightened at the same time. It held the promise of truth.

As they stepped into the building Bill saw that the interior actually consisted of a gently sloping ramp that ran in circles up the interior to the last floor. The open column of air in the middle was small, indicating the displays along the ramp were very large.

"Near the end of his life," the voice explained in a pleasant, conversational tone, "Colonel Phillip Green expressed regret over the millions of deaths that occurred on his orders. Though he could not undo his crimes, he vowed the victims would never be forgotten. His last order as the dictator of Britain before his death in 2075 was to create this memorial. The Colonel's contribution to the Museum remains a point of controversy. However, it has also provided great insight into the single darkest moment of human history."

They followed the arrows and found themselves looking at uniforms used by soldiers from the war. They were covered from head to toe in a strange, supple material that the unseen narrator said was proofed against small to mid caliber bullets, radiation and most forms of airborne biological or chemical attacks.

Though Bill was not paying attention, Beverly stiffened, recognizing the uniforms from the Enterprise's first encounter with Q at Farpoint Station that Jean-Luc described for her.

The memorial had a display of Green's own first military uniform. It was glaringly red, and stemmed from his days as the leader of the Green Peacekeepers, a militant branch of Greenpeace that eventually contributed greatly to the global devastation of the war. The Peacekeepers were responsible for over 90 nuclear strikes toward the end, the narrator told them.

The walls were inset with lit displays of various sizes. One display showed a tank that could have come right out of a historical drama firing on something that looked like a helicopter without rotors.

The displays were surprisingly large and complete. It felt as if somehow Bill was travelling through time. Another display actually showed a pitched battle from the perspective of the Allied forces.

Bill learned that World War III officially started in 2026 when the Eastern Coalition of Asiatic States launched a nuclear missile at Boston in the United States of America. Each step up the ramp took him further along the nearly thirty years of interim warfare that ripped the world apart.

The narrator listed the official reasons for the war. Mainly it came down to resources. Oil, water, food. Population pressures turned China into an almost unstoppable juggernaut sparked by the fall of Khan and the burning years of the Eugenics Wars. The end of the Eugenics Wars directly led to the Sino-Indian War of 2018, which then directly led to the formation of the Eastern Coalition which eventually started the global phase of World War III.

Although the official casualties listed for World War III was six hundred million, that number did not take into account the four hundred million who died in the wars that led up to the final one.

The numbers were almost incomprehensible. "How could this have happened?" Bill whispered. "How could so many people just die like that?"

"The world grew too fast," Mary said. "There were too many people and not enough resources. People in the developed countries were driving three cars while people in undeveloped countries were scrounging for grains of rice in the sand. The imbalance of resources toppled the world order. But from that came the world we know today. Do you realize, Bill, that there has not been a human war in centuries? It's the longest period of peace Earth has ever had. There is still conflict, but not within the human race."

The large group continued up the gently sloping ramp until they came to the very top level, which was separate from the rest of the memorial. They passed through an arch that looked hauntingly familiar to Bill and came into the top level of the museum.

"And finally we have come to the most mystifying aspect of the memorial. This floor was designed according to Colonel Green's personal specifications, including the displays," the voice said. "Nothing has been moved since that time, as required by the museums' charter."

Bill stumbled as he walked through. "Are you all right?" Beverly asked.

The other ladies, though, also stumbled a little. "What was that?" Diana asked.

Beverly looked at all their faces. "So I wasn't the only one to feel it. Bill, do you know what that was? Bill?"

Bill did not answer. He stood stiff-legged with his teeth ground together as he stared across the room.

sp

sp

Author's Responses

Well, I hope everyone enjoyed this extra long chapter. Please note that I will be taking a break for the holidays, so not post through New Years.

Without much ado, I'd like to thank the following you people:

cruailsama; Voldemort is Dead; Vyrexuviel; Sir Trib the Bold; bord stiff; damon blade; Isis the Sphinx; Firehedgehog; dajohu; OriontheHunter; SomeGuyFawkes; Jfitzgerald; imgonnadie; Obsidius; Pointer3109; JEKrug01; immortal7; Crys; Maximillian1; menright6; Tilius; Roosterman71; Darkleag; GinnyLover14; Gaul1; Avalon11; Wonderbee31; Debbster21; Nomma; ThePink1 at ; Manus Dei; Knyght; Tremerid; Stainless Steel Rattrap; and Midoriryu.

Thank you all for your reviews and comments.

Questions and Answers:

Q: Only potential sticking point is if there are any restrictions on human harems, since it may be ok for the Gryxlypslitians to have 5 wives according to the charter, but it may still be illegal for humans.

A: I think that in the society we are shown in ST episodes, it is highly unlikely that morality has been regulated or controlled by the government. Religious aspects, yes, but for those on the civil side, I doubt you would see specific laws forbidding behavior that was not specifically harmful to oneself or others.

Q: On a side note i would like to ask if you plan on posting The Last Jedi any time soon?

A: I am waiting for my beta. Once the section is returned, I will start posting.

Q: About responding to reviews at the end of the story...
It actually *IS* against FFN's guidelines (fanfiction{dot}net/guidelines/).

A: Please see below

Entries not allowed:

Non-stories: lists, bloopers, polls, previews, challenges, author notes, and etc. One or two liners. MST: comments inserted in between the flow of a copied story. Stories with non-historical and non-fictional characters: actors, musicians, and etc. Any form of interactive entry: choose your adventure, second person/you based, Q&As, and etc. Chat/script format and keyboard dialogue based entries. (Taken from Guidelines)

This refers as actual chapter entries. I do not enter chapter titles as comments only, nor do I interrupt the flow of any chapter be inserting comments within it. By these terms I am in complete compliance with the guidelines as posted. Until those guidelines specifically forbid any author comments of any kind, this is my chosen means of response.

Q: The interactions and the subtle telling of my previous question on how Kate became Naomi's foster mother explain alot, but at the same time does this mean that the interactions she had with Nelix were warped as well?

A: No, Naomi's relationship with Nelix was not warped. Janeway did not choose to foster Naomi until AFTER they returned to Earth. Nelix had already left Voyager by that time, and when they returned to Earth Naomi had no other family (the only change was her mother's death, which wasn't that much of a stretch since we hardly ever saw her with Naomi at all).

Q: I dont think they are squibs. I think they are active magic users but after generations of no training it went dormant until Harry woke it up again.

A: And that has pretty much been confirmed in this chapter. Diana's mother was a genertically a squib, but the other girls are simply muggleborns with dormant magical cores.

Q: Given that Bill has asked for things that haven't been made in some time, and has no knowledge of things in that time, how is it that no one has even considered the posiabilty?

A: Previous to this chapter, they could not confirm he was actually from a different time. Most scientists first try to eliminate all other possibilities before jumping to something like that. And ST canon has established that time travel is something that is tightly controlled and monitored by future entities. Doesn't mean they aren't open to the possibility, but first they had to eliminate other more probably possibilities.

Q: You should really think of the possibilities of having the first ex-Starfleet cadet who could Apparate at interplanetary range (Amanda the Q aside,) for at least one scene. You never know, he could be the next Ron. Harry's always been better off with a best mate.

A: Sorry, Wes just isn't in the story, although technically I think you're right, he probably is a Wizard. But this isn't Wes's story, it's Harry's.

Q: I wonder if you're going to pick up that (Shatnerverse) angle, or if we'll see Spock.

A: The Shatnerverse is not even remotely canon. Even in the wildly open Star Trek canon, Shatnerverse belongs right up there with that horrid Star Trek/X-Men crossover that somehow got published.

Q: The bay-area Orgasmic Brown-Out of DOOM™ was rather amusing, and every little flicker will probably annoy the crap out of the feddies, and provide a nice running joke.

A: Not a question, but I will have to trademark that because that is the best label for a scene in my fics I've ever seen!

Well, thank you all for reading. Until 2010, I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday.