Hello, Helena here, completely terribly irrevocably late. Ermory actually translated a week ago but as most people know school tends to get in the way. So here's a,, what to call it? warning? that updates will become sporadic, though we'll still try to update once a week.

For now, here's a long chapter to appease you, enjoy :)

And we don't own any of this. Plot and characters (and some dialogue in this chapter) go to JK Rowling, story originally written by EmPotter in Italian, we just translate and edit.

The original story can be found on EFPfanfic, called 'Sono Ginny Weasley, e questa è la mia storia'

Dates, shopping, and a good dose of calming draught

"Weasley, Todd," little professor Flitwick squeaked in exasperation, "less chatting there! Thank you!"

Ginny hurriedly turned her face away from William, and tried to focus on whichever boring spell they were working on that lesson. She and the boy were arguing animatedly for the umpteenth time, which often happened since William had decided to act so strangely around her. Flitwick had now interrupted them for the fourth time in a row. The class gave them extremely curious looks.

"Well, now that those two have stopped their tender quarreling of an old married couple," the class burst out laughing and the professor continued under the stupefied gaze of the tenderly quarreling old married couple, "I have to inform you all of one thing. The Yule Ball: an event traditional with the Triwizard tournament and an opportunity us all to socialize with our foreign guests."

Vicky coughed and Ginny chuckled swiftly; Demelza rolled her eyes.

"Now, the dance will be open only to those of the fourth year up ..."

"Why did you tell us, then?" Rose interrupted him, dropping her wand down on the bench and hunching forward curiously.

"Why," continued Flitwick, a note of slight irritation in his shrill voice, "you can be invited by a student older than you and vice versa, then you're able to take part in the dance. Would be a great opportunity for you younger ones!"

"Yes, wonderful opportunity ... surely someone will invite me to a dance only when the cool kids go," muttered Demelza in a low voice. The boys smiled but Ginny, despite laughing along, shared this thought of her friend. Who would ever invite her to the Yule Ball? Maybe, remotely ... Harry Potter? But of course, they would have to hit him with a real powerful Confundus first!

William raised his hand and Flitwick motioned for him to speak.

"Can't you ask a student of our age?" he asked, and Vicky coughed again.

"Only an older one, Mr. Todd. Oh, and, if any of you are to be invited, you'll be wearing dress robes," Flitwick said cheerfully, glancing at the boys. "The dance would convene at eight o'clock on the evening of Christmas, and it will end at midnight, now..."

The bell rang.

"... the lesson is over, off you go," he concluded, while the children were already on their heels.

*.-.*-.-*.-.*-.-*.-.*

Ginny had never seen so many people stay at Hogwarts for Christmas: though she'd never been here, but usually the list of people staying had never been long.

That year, on the contrary, almost all the students in the school, including her, had remained at the castle, obsessing over the upcoming Ball.

"Why did I even decide to stay here? Is it just curiosity? Or maybe it was… hope? Man, who do I think I am ... " Ginny muttered frustratedly, strolling down a corridor full of students carrying all her heavy books.

That was the last lesson of the term; the Yule Ball was inching close and closer: the corridors of Hogwarts were filled with conversations of nothing but that event. Groups of girls would burst out into laughter and furious whispers as boys passed by; everyone excitedly asking their friends who's their date, what they're wearing; what must be millions of cards are sent at the end of lessons, flying around in the corridors, winking at passers-by.

"Really, I've been so stupid that if it's not for being terribly scared of the height, I would have thrown myself off the Astronomy Tower," Ginny continued unperturbed, while a boy nearby kissed a girl and asked her to the Ball. "Did I really think I was going to be asked out by someone? Well ... I was probably just curious, and if you" she snarled bitterly, pointing an accusing finger at Vicky, "give me any more such idiotic ideas I'll make sure to give up all together!"

Her friend burst out laughing, hands pressed to her mouth; Demelza smiled.

"Bet two sickles that all three of us will get invited eventually?" Vicky asked solemnly, while winking at a clumsy Hufflepuff passing close by and causing a strange blush blooming on his cheeks. Ginny turned back to watch the boy's face and bent up with laughter, giving her friend a pat on the back.

No one in their right mind would have asked Ginny to a school Ball, and that's because she had quite the record: the timid girl who had her friends almost killed, the shy girl who had opened the Chamber of Secrets, the wary girl responsible for the school-wide pandemonium during her very first year, the nervous girl who had sent little cards and love letters to her brother's best friend ... which closed the description rather beautifully.

"No one's ever going to ask me," said Ginny and Demelza in unison, then burst out laughing.

"Two sickles against that," insisted Vicky, stubborn at best. She would certainly have asked someone, though certainly not that Ravenclaw Goldstein, for they had just split up, and pride reserves its importance in relationships, and stuff: neither would take the first step to make peace, and they would both end up in someone else's arms before they were going to count down from three and say "I'm sorry".

Unfortunately, Ginny was not an expert on relationships (and stuff) but had that strange certain feeling that the Ball would change something. What she did not know for certain was whether the change would be positive or negative.

"Ah, and guess what, Johanna Roberts, that curly-haired Hufflepuff girl, asked Harry Potter to the ball!"

"EH?" Ginny immediately whipped her head around, "WHO DID WHAT TO WHOM?"

"Good heavens ... don't scream, please ..." Demelza muttered, looking around.

"You heard it," Vicky said hurriedly, with a mischievous smile.

"Don't laugh, damn it! You're pissing me off even more, you know?" Ginny snapped, raising her voice even higher and not caring that people were starting to stare at them. However, the need for information was more important at that point, so she added: "What the hell happened then? Harry might just go to the Ball with that one in the end, yes, she's been drooling for years but just because he's famous! You didn't hear about it in the first year, and last year he wasn't in the spotlight and he also couldn't possibly have ever even noticed her, at this it's more likely for him to be in love with Sirius Black! But for her now she wants a champion and what a coincid—"

Vicky refrained from bursting into laughter and interrupted her friend: "You don't know they're going to the Ball together!"

"... yeah?" Ginny asked hopefully, while Demelza shook her head disconsolately.

"Yes, control your raging hormones and try to do something about the ball with him if you care so much," Vicky said wisely with an encouraging smile, quickly skipping down the stairs while her friends almost ran behind her. Demelza with a certain reluctance, also considering with the numerous volumes poised on his arms. "Otherwise, you can just forget it - at least for one night! - and make him jealous with some other guy, which would be a lot more fun and dignified."

"Then why not just ask Harry?" Demelza suggested uncertainly.

"Demelza ..." the blonde said, "you're good at feelings, homework and everything else ... but boys, do you really understand them? They need stimulation, and what's a better chance than this to make a guy want to be with you?"

Demelza stared at her friend as if she was crazy, and though Vicky was probably serious, refraining from laughing out loud and assuming an exasperated and defeated expression: her suggestion wasn't worth a knut.

"Yeah, sure, everything fits but the problem is that Harry's never going to get jealous!" Ginny snorted, banging a fist on a nearby wall.

"WHICH MEANS YOU SHOULD MOVE THAT FRECKLED ASS AND DO SOMETHING!" Ginny was silenced by the neurotic Vicky, her face contracted and almost maniacal. After seeing the expression of her friends, she again took that sweet smile of all time.

Ginny hovered a hand behind her, and whispered:"For the record, I really don't have freckles there too."

*.-.*-.-*.-.*-.-*.-.*

Days rushed past, and the three girls were yet to receive an invitation from any boy. Ginny had talked to the twins and found out that Fred had managed to catch Angelina by shouting the invitation for the dance across the Common Room; George would gladly go with Leotordo, but eventually he changed partners and pounced on Katie Bell; Ron was only hoping not to end up with Eloise Midgen, though at this point he would rather ask McGonagall just to have someone at the Ball and not look like an idiot being alone; and Harry had been refusing all the girls who had asked him. What was there to say about the final part? Harry's situation made Ginny rather cheerful, and she left the twins all happy and excited.

A few days before the Yule Ball, Ginny had left her friends having fun lounging around the school while she was lazing in the empty Common Room: the tons of sweets from the day before had left her feeling not so well at that moment. Confident that she would also vomit her soul out, she decided to stay on that sofa long enough to swallow and digest the potion that Madame Pomfrey had given her.

"Hello ... how come you're all alone?" asked a timid and uncertain voice.

Ginny turned to her left and met Neville Longbottom's curious gaze, staring at her from above.

"Neville, hi! Um ... headache, you know," she lied, deciding not to scare the boy too much with the overeating. It must have escaped her somehow but the potion would have worked.

Neville cracked a crooked smile, took a seat on another armchair next door, took a deep breath and asked: "Who are you going with to the Yule Ball? I-I mean, did you ask someone? Anyone asked you?"

"I'm not going, I'm only in the third year," the girl answered absently, taking the last sip of her disgusting potion, and only then did she realize how stupid she had been: if Neville didn't have a date he would take her and be glued to her, and she absolutely did not want that! She wanted a guy to make Harry jealous, a guy to have fun with, forgetting him and not a boy that's… well, not Neville Longbottom. Okay ENOUGH with those NEWTs-worthy mental essays! That didn't mean he was going to ask you, the girl thought.

"Ah, t-that's great! So ... I was wondering if ... that is ... do you want to come to the Ball with m-me?"

That's right, she's getting an O with those dragon-dung-filled mental essays.

"Neville, I ..."

"If you don't want to, you don't have to do anything, that's… I mean, I…" he did not finish the sentence, and he blushed furiously.

Such sincerely? Ginny pitied him a little, and not because he was blushing in front of her or anything ... but because he had always been a someone belittled by everyone and, above all, by himself. He was a very unconfident boy who needed help, and Ginny, not out of courtesy but out of sheer goodness, did not really feel like refusing the invitation. And then ... she would be going to the ball, an unprecedented event!

"I accept," said the girl, with a hesitant smile.

Neville became animated, and leaned toward her: "Really?" he asked, amazed by his own abilities.

"Yeah, we'll have a good time, won't we?"

"S-sure! Oh, how nice ... yes, um ... I'm very happy to be going with you, thank you very much for accepting!"

Neville's starting to make her awkward, as he rubbed his hands together in victory, and she shrugged her shoulders, as if she did not seem just too pleased with the idea of having pseudo-date.

"Now I'm going ... I'm going to buy a formal dress for ... yes, see you!" he said, splitting smile on his face as he got up form the chair. Then he ran away, clumsily climbing through the portrait hole and disappearing from the girl's sight, who sighed and rolled her eyes, not knowing who to blame.

Slowly, she pulled a red pillow from the nearby couch and began to throw it repeatedly against her face, muttering curse after curse against the fabric, in all the languages of the world. Count in Parseltongue and in Ancient Runes. Because she was crazy, crazy, crazy ... first class crazy. She tried to calm down and tell herself that it wasn't the end of the world: she would go to the Ball, and the prospect of not going was really worse than going with Neville.

Yes, indeed ... you go with Longbottom! Better the empty Gryffindor common room, no? asked an evil little voice in her head, and suddenly, a tiny Ginny dressed as a devil appeared in the imagination of the girl, while another tiny self, dressed as a little angel, surfaced with grace and elegance.

"The Common Room couldn't possibly be better!" the girl answered, self-convinced.

You made a nice gesture, dear. In the end it is only a dance, and who says you would spend the entire evening with Neville! There are many other good-looking guys who are going, and you can make friends with some of them as you like, the angel replied sweetly, a brilliant golden halo shone above her red hair.

Nobody will talk to Longbottom's date!

You're a disgusting worm! That boy just needs someone who trust him!

And why does she have to be the one to help him?

"Oh stop it and close that ... HERMIONE!" Ginny shrieked, literally jumping out of her chair, and driving her startled angel and devil spiraling away. The empty potion vial dropped to the floor with a thump and she reluctantly lowered to pick it up.

"Who were you talking to?" Hermione asked, intrigued, taking a seat on the opposite sofa. Although she seemed calm and composed as usual, Ginny could not help but notice that she smiled, twisted her hands in her lap with an excited air. And what's more, there's something truly strange and never happened before: her cheeks were terribly flushed and her hair more upset than usual. Also... no books with her!

"Forget it," Ginny cut short, quickly. "How are you? It seems we haven't seen each other in centuries and... you're all red and ... happy?"

"Oh, Gin ... I'm more than happy!" she immediately exclaimed, as if she couldn't wait to tell someone what happened to her. It almost caused Ginny's stomach to clench painfully, and she silently cursed herself. "And yes, I'm fine! Never been better! Oh, something unprecedented has happened and ... ugh, my cheeks are burning! I hope he didn't notice, I would have looked ridiculous!"

"Hermione ... would you like to explain?" Ginny asked, scratching the back of her head and staring at her friend. At that moment, she noted joyfully that the stomach ache had passed and that now she could even get up from the chair. "Did you ... you go asked to the Yule Ball, didn't you? Look at your face, you look like Crookshanks".

Hermione laughed even though that joke was not funny at all, and she confirmed: "Yes, someone asked me to the Ball. In fact, someone very unexpectedly asked me to the Ball," she corrected, her head back in the clouds.

"RON ASKED YOU TO THE BALL?"

"Don't be silly!"

"I thought ... but how is it possible? You said someone unexpected..."

"Imagine if that idiot of your brother — no offense — ask me to anywhere! If anything, he would ask me to do homework ... for he to copy them!" Hermione replied irritably, rolling her eyes and violently pulling her hair up into a disheveled pony tail.

Ginny told herself that she was right about Ron, and was not offended at all. "Well?" she pressed impatiently.

"What?"

"Who invited you to the ball?"

"I'll tell you, but you do not tell anyone!"

"I will be silent as a to—"

"Viktor Krum!" Hermione cried, without letting Ginny finish her sentence and all the nervousness that came when she was starting to talk about Ron vanished as if it was never there; a brilliant toothy smile spread across her face.

"Viktor Krum ... what? The Quidditch Krum?That Viktor Krum? Durmstrang Champion?"

"Yes, how many other Viktors do we know?"

"MY GOODNESS!" Ginny exclaimed, eyes widening, struck and rather upset. "The seeker ... oh most holy gods, I can't believe it! He really asked you ... Merlin in the carriage! Hermione, it's fantastic ... seriously, you're happy, I'm happy for you too!"

"He came to the library every day to try and talk to me ... do you know that?"

"Did he really ask you?" Ginny asked, slightly envious of her friend. Here the picture of the infinite sadness was completed: the friend would go to the dance with the much loved and idolized Viktor Krum, player of the biggest international Quidditch games and master of the Wronski Feint, while Ginny would go to the dance with Neville, player of… real and fake falls and tumbles of all Hogwarts and surroundings.

I warned you, little stubborn thing! snapped the mini-Ginny, motionless next to her red pitchfork.

The real Ginny snorted with annoyance, then sighed disconsolately.

"Er ... is something wrong?" Hermione asked sweetly, after a while.

"I'm going to the dance with Neville," the girl answered flatly, turning to see her face just in time. The smile was forced, the calm was apparent, and soon there would be encouragement meant for someone hanging between life and death, encouragement that wouldn't really serve much if you were really about to die.

"Well, it's great that you're coming too, you'll have fun, you'll see ... Neville is very ... um ... yes, he's awkward but he's a good person," Hermione tried to encourage her. Poorly. Between the dispute of her two mini-herself and Hermione ... Ginny didn't know which made her feel worse. "I had to refuse Neville because Viktor Krum had asked me moments before, otherwise I would have gladly gone. Try… not to think about Harry, okay? Let's not think about them, one day they'll find out what they missed. Make a fuss, raise a show, I'm sure he'll notice you soon."

A few logs cracked noisily in the fireplace. Probably in disagreement.

"Live your life, be with others ... maybe you'll find if you're yourself ... That's all there is to it; that's the secret, isn't it?"

Sadly enough, Ginny nodded.

"Yeah," she replied, nails digging into her palms desperately. "You're right, I-I think I should… I'll do that."

"You can't wait all your life for it while otherwise doing nothing, you have to know how to wait in the right way."

But how right is she about the "right way"?

"I will go to that dance, and I ... oh,you two ..." Ginny muttered at her annoying alter egos breaking back into her mind, "I'll have fun like I've never done before! Thank you Hermione… and now…" she suddenly beamed and bent down to kiss her cheek, then bounced happily towards the portrait hole, "I'm getting myself a nice formal dress! You're invited to the show!"

As she ran away, one thought about Hermione insistently lingered: how did she always know everything?

*.-.*-.-*.-.*-.-*.-.*

"I can't believe you're going to the Ball with Longbottom!"

"Will ... stop this. Rather, stop insulting Neville like that!"

"Who's insulting him?"

The Hogsmeade shopping trip had been impossibly beautiful: Ginny and her friends had happily catapulted into the village for their pre-ball shopping. Christopher managed to courageously ask a pretty Hufflepuff girl, successfully (Susan Bones, her name was); Demelza had been invited by a Frenchman who was all skinny bones, but with a keen interest in English literature and Vicky had been asked by a rather muscular Bulgarian. Ritchie and William had not moved their finger for that dance, and they were helping their friends find formal clothes.

"Try this shirt, Chris, goes with the green robes," Ritchie suggested, throwing his friend an elegant white shirt.

"You could have waited ..." Vicky whispered in Ginny's ear, turning round in large sky-blue dress robes that made her look incredibly like Cinderella's blue fairy. "There were a lot of Bulgarians without a date, you know?"

"I'm so sorry if I got too nervous and ate so much and got sick when the twins had told me that Harry was turning down all the girls!" she said in one breath, dropping another possible dress in William's arms.

"Mmh ... well, you can always dance with someone else"

"She can't abandon Neville, he's her date and all!" William replied immediately, catching the gist of conversation, with a certain satisfaction. If the conjectures did not deceive Ginny, the boy was doing everything to convince her to stay with only her clumsy date, who was really not as attractive as the other girls' dates.

"I still can't believe I was invited too, you know?" Demelza muttered, blushing to the tips of her ears. "Um ... excuse me," she added, turning to a shop assistant currently popping a gum, "are there only red shoes? I wouldn't want something that stands out so horribly, do you have anything softer? And I could…"

"Nothing else around here," interrupted the saleswoman, annoyed.

"Demelza ... time out! You will wear red, and the case is closed!" Vicky decided, stopping the young lady and throwing her shiny red heels into the arms of her friend. "And then ... I might be wrong but you both seems to owe me two sickles? I won the bet!"

"What is this barbarism?" Ritchie looked horrified, while the two girls, barely flinching, each slipped two sickles into the pocket of a smug and smiling Vicky.

*.-.*-.-*.-.*-.-*.-.*

Ginny had been really happy with her choice of dress robes and shoes. She had bought a simple dress: a deep blue tulle skirt that came just above her knee, with a slightly darker bodice decorated with little silver stars. Cute and simple, times better than the big pink candy dress of Vicky, or the sinuous and rather seductive red dress of Demelza, who wanted to die of shame when she realized that she would actually be wearing it.

The three girls came down from the girls' dormitory, excitedly chatting, then suddenly Ron fell on his sister, asking for help and shaking her as if he had seen death in the face.

Demelza and Vicky disappeared from the Common Room, horridly glancing at Ginny and her brother, while Ron dragged his sister to a more secluded corner of the room, and started to mumble incomprehensibly. Ginny couldn't understand anything that were incomprehensible. The girl could not understand anything, and immediately interrupted.

"Ron, breathe. Do you mind repeating... whatever the hell just happened?"

"A FIASCO!" he suddenly shrieked, face in despair and vocabulary suddenly expanding. "I did something very, very… stupid!" he added, and his sister grabbed him by the arm, (never mind the vocabulary comment) dragged him away, and pushed him into a nearby chair after ushering away a pair of shy first years. After Ron regained control, she urged him to speak.

"Well?"

"IaskedFleurDelacourtotheball!" he quickly said, his eyes bulging and mad, printed with shock and horror as if he had actually seen death in the face, and Ginny was sure she did not understand what he meant by he "asked Fleur Delacour to the ball."

"Fleur Delacour, the Beauxbatons champion?"

"Yes, and I asked her, you know, there were a lot of people, and she looked at me like I was disgusting ... and I really suck!"

He seemed to want to cry all his tears of anguish, but Ginny would not allow it and began to console him, patting him on the back and tried to cheer him with small jokes. No success there, she should know. She had just managed to stop him hyperventilating while some students arriving back from dinner turned to look at them with small smiles on their lips.

"What's up, Ron?"

Ginny and Ron looked up at the same time: they didn't realise that harry had joined them.

"He ... er ... just asked Fleur Delacour to go to the ball with him," Ginny explained, barely trying to hold back a little smile.

"I don't know what made me do it!" exclaimed Ron breathlessly. He began to torment his hands in his lap, ears again scarlet with shame. "She was standing there talking to Diggory, and it sort of came over me, and I asked her!" he added, moaning, and buried his face in his hands, hiding it from view and continuing to mumble things whose meaning escaped Ginny.

"She's part Veela, you were right," Harry interrupted, sitting down next to him, "I bet you walked past when she was turning on the old charm for Diggory and got a blast of it, she's wasting her time though. Diggory is going with Cho Chang." Ron stared and his friend gave him a look, "I asked her to go with me just now, and she told me," he added.

Ginny felt herself suddenly stop smiling. And was that why he had turned down all the girls asking him? To go to the dance with that idiot Chang? Of course, now everything seems perfectly clear now! It was only last year that he was drooling at her, almost losing a Quidditch game for Gryffindor for not wanting to throw her off the broom. Ginny had her suspicions and probably should have thought of it before, instead she had gorged herself with food until she burst. For him. Cabbage, for him! But ... Cho and Cedric as a couple was really not so bad, she adored them together.

Boys are all the same, you just gotta say no to everyone! the infamous pitchfork self unperturbedly whispered in the girl's ear, horns and red tail shinning dangerously.

"This is mad, we're the only ones left who haven't got anyone!" Ron said, amazed by the news as Ginny returned back to reality, "well, us and Neville. Hey, guess who he asked? Hermione! She told him she's already going with someone. Ha! As if! She just didn't want to go with Neville!"

"Don't!" Ginny interrupted, annoyed. That business was really degenerating, and remembering Hermione's words about boys, especially those two, Ginny became even more furious, she didn't even care that Ron had now recovered from his catastrophe with Delacour. "Don't laugh!" she added, as Hermione crossed the portrait hole and joined them, confused.

"Why weren't you two at dinner?"

Ginny stared at her insistently, as if to tell her that she was right about her brother, and said, "Because... oh shut up laughing, you two… because they've both just been turned down by girls they asked to the ball!" and this, to the girl's great satisfaction, closed their mouths.

Ten points to Ginny.

"All the good-looking ones taken, Ron?" Hermione replied sourly, but Ron was staring at her as if he saw her with a new light.

"Hermione, Neville is right: you are a girl!"

"You're as quick as lightening!"

"Well ... you can come with one of us!"

"No, I can not ... because I'm going there with someone else!"

"No you're not!" Ron accused forcefully, and Ginny gasped. If he had not been her brother, sharer of her blood, she would have killed him, right there, at that moment. She would have been fine with killing, or punching the cheeky face square with her fists, even if he had been a cousin.

"You said it only to get rid of Neville!" he continued, convinced of himself.

Viktor Krum had to be more appetizing than Ron ...

"Oh did I? Just because it's taken you took three years to notice, Ron, doesn't mean no one else has spotted I'm a girl!" Hermione snapped, something sinister flashing angrily in her eyes. She said her last words and turned her back on him, stormed up to the girls' dormitory. Probably to throw up.

Still,ten points to Hermione.

"She's lying," Ron said again, almost sneering.

"She's not," his sister objected.

"Who is it then?"

"I'm not telling you, it's her business!"

"Right, this is getting stupid," Ron said, very disconcerted, just not realizing that he had came too late with Hermione and that Viktor Krum had just won the duel to the girl's heart. "Ginny, you can go with Harry and ..."

Five points from Ro ... wait, wait, what? Who was she going with? With Harry? But that same Harry? No, that's impossible and she couldn't believe it, one of her greatest most ardent desires could not have came true but… here Gryffindor pride prevailed, it was really impossible that she could made herself happy with a proposal made by Ron as if she's someone crawling at his feet. She wasn't his second choice and wouldn't be treated like that by a little bastardly git! He's treating her as a last resort, as Ron had done with Hermione.

Harry stared at her, and Ginny corrected herself mentally: just a small bit bastard,charming bastard.

"I can't," declared the girl with dignity, though becoming scarlet. She thought of Hermione's last words and found the strength to refuse. "I'm going with… with Neville. He asked me when Hermione said no, and I thought… well… otherwise I won't be able to go," at that moment she became particularly depressed, a thousand things barging her brains and filling it with insults at herself and the bespectacled face of Harry Potter.

The two boys stared at her even more disconcertedly.

"I think I'll go and have dinner..."

Ginny walked out of the Common Room, bowing out in all her fantastic and total despair. Maybe, once she got off, she could ask Madam Pomfrey for a good dose calming draught.

Teenage hormones amirite

Review?

~Helena H. (editor)

Ermory is translator and owner of this account.

Next: The Yule Ball (another dangerously long chapter that will take a while to edit)