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Author: Bistyboo1974 Story: Through His Mother's Eyes Rating: Young Teens Setting: Pre-HBP Status: WIP Reviews: 7 Words: 45,208
The envelope Ginny held in her hand was snow-white, bordered with dancing, primary-colored letters of the alphabet. The handwriting upon it was the neatest she had ever laid eyes on; each letter had been meticulously formed to spell out her name. Just to the right of the word "Potter" was drawn a tiny, ruby-red apple. She knew straightaway this was correspondence from Miss Wicket, James' nursery school teacher. Ginny opened the envelope and began to read the letter: Dear Mrs. Potter, As you may have heard, our Room Mother, Mrs. Felicity Cartwright, has come down with a most unfortunate case of throbbing hives. In her spare time, Mrs. Cartwright is a volunteer potion-tester at the Madam Morgana Personal Hygiene Potion Plant in Berkshire, and sadly bathed in a substandard tub of bath salts during last week's analysis of products. This is an ill-timed happening indeed, because the children are in the process of planning for their next big affair: Valentine's Day. In Mrs. Cartwright's absence, I am finding myself in a bit of a bind. I am currently without a hostess for the children's Valentine's Day bash and without a pair of hands to make decorations and treats for that same event I'm afraid it just won't be the same. I implore you to help your son's class and me. I have it on good authority that you are clever and creative, and that is just the sort of mum I'd have step into Mrs. Cartwright's shoes! Please say you'll be willing to take the place of Room Mother! Regards, Miss Cordelia A. Wicket Ginny absentmindedly scratched the end of her nose and gave Miss Wicket's proposal proper consideration. Even though her artistic endeavors were just a wee bit backed up at present ("Where in Merlin's name is that sketch for the Headless Hats hat box?"), Ginny found herself tempted by the teacher's offer. After all, she had wanted very much to volunteer in James' class when he started at Madam Scholastica's the previous autumn, but Mrs. Cartwright had hastily written her name down in every category on the volunteer list - from Room Mother and Field Trip Chaperone to Friday Afternoon Storyteller and Christmas Pageant Director - not leaving much else for any of the other parents. Harry called her the Mum From Hell. "Oh, she's not all that bad," Ginny lied. "She does do a good job at whatever it is she's doing. Maybe you could just call her the Mum From Purgatory instead?" Harry laughed quite a bit at Ginny's forced diplomacy. But now, with Felicity Cartwright in the Potion and Plant Poisoning Ward at St. Mungo's, Ginny had an in. She picked up a quill and began to scribble her response, accepting the position of Room Mother. *** "Guess what?" Ginny asked James when he arrived home from nursery school later that afternoon. She was grinning broadly, ever so anxious to share the exciting news with James about her promotion from Plain Old Mum to Room Mum. "What?" sighed James as he tossed his backpack aside. His little face looked weary. Well, this won't do, thought Ginny as she gave her son a puzzled look. This wasn't how Ginny imagined the scene to play out at all. She was supposed to ask James to guess what, James was supposed to guess (wrongly, of course), then Ginny was supposed to reveal the big news and receive showers of congratulations and praise from a thrilled little boy. The scene was not supposed to involve a boy who looked like his favorite Puffskein had just bit the dust. "Never mind," said Ginny. Her news could wait. "Why do you look so miserable?" James frowned. He wasn't saying a word. Sometimes getting information out of him was like pulling dragon teeth. "Sweetheart...you can tell me...you know you can." Silence. "Okay, if you'd rather I didn't know-" James heaved a big sigh and summed it up in five words. "Amanda Barton thinks I'm cute." Ginny bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. She wanted to say, "You are cute, dear!" but she didn't want to seem patronizing. Instead she said, "That's awful." "It's very awful," James moaned. Nice save, Ginny thought. "It's the awfulest thing that's ever happened to me." He picked up his backpack and lugged it to his bedroom. Ginny heard the bag slam into his closet. "Ever!" he shouted with emphasis. Such a tough life, Ginny thought. "Care to tell me about it over a glass of pumpkin juice?" Ginny offered as James moped back into the living room. James shrugged, then sighed again. Such a heavy burden to bear, being cute, Ginny thought as she poured two glasses full of chilled pumpkin juice. She smiled as she set a glass in front of James at the kitchen table. He picked up the glass, drank half of the juice and set the glass back down with a solid thunk on the table. A ring of orange encircled his little mouth and Ginny fought hard to keep from giggling. Amanda Barton knew of what she spoke. "So, tell me your troubles, laddie," said Ginny, giving her best impression of a barkeep. "All I did was give her a Chocolate Frog card," said James miserably. "And what did she do?" prompted Ginny. "She said, 'Thanks, you're cute,'" grumbled James. "And you don't think she's cute...is that it?" James looked utterly scandalized. "Yuck!" he bellowed and began to guzzle the rest of his pumpkin juice down, perhaps to settle the uneasiness in his tummy due to the suggestion that he possibly could have thought a girl was - gasp - cute. "I suppose not," replied Ginny. James set his head down on the table and made a pitiful noise. "Well," said Ginny quickly, wanting to brighten James' dark mood, "I have a bit of news that might cheer you up!" James slowly picked his head up. "We're moving?" "No, silly!" Ginny laughed, but she gathered that his comment was no joke. "No, your teacher - Miss Wicket - owled me this morning. She wants me to be the new Room Mother for your class at school!" Whatever response Ginny expected from this announcement, it couldn't have been further away from what she got. James let out a low moan; something akin to the sound an injured animal would make right before snuffing it. "You can't be Room Mother!" he said, his eyes full of tears. "You can't because I'm never going back to school again!" He ran from the kitchen, down the hall and into his bedroom. Before slamming the door behind him, he shouted, "Ever!" *** "Where does all the drama come from, Hedwig?" Ginny stroked the snowy owl's feathers gently as the bird sat upon the perch in the studio/sunroom. Hedwig had just delivered a reply from Miss Wicket. Ginny tore open the familiar envelope and read: Dear Mrs. Potter, I am thrilled that you've accepted my offer to become Room Mother! Please come up with some ideas for the Valentine's Day bash and put them in writing by next Monday evening. All of the Room Mothers will be giving reports on their proposed plans at the monthly Home and School Organization meeting, which is being held at seven o'clock in the Thornfield building. I look forward to hearing your ideas! Regards, Miss Cordelia A. Wicket Ginny's face went sheet-white. What had she got herself into? When accepting Miss Wicket's offer, she hadn't got the impression that the teacher was going to ask her to do a presentation in front of the entire faculty, staff and parent population of Madam Scholastica's Day Nursery...and what was the point, really? She had reckoned, when Valentine's Day rolled round, all she'd have to do was bring some red and pink streamers, a few lace hearts, and a dozen or so Valentine-themed fairy cakes to school and she'd be done with it, but Miss Wicket (or Miss Wicked as Ginny had just begun to think of her) had asked for these ideas in writing. Surely she'd want more written down than streamers, hearts and fairy cakes. What in the world did this woman expect from her? Card-carrying dwarves in Cupid costumes? She was giving serious consideration to letting James become a preschool dropout. At any rate, it would give her a reprieve from all of this Valentine's Day nonsense. *** Over dinner that evening, Ginny told Harry about Miss Wicket's offer, how she had accepted it and the subsequent noose that had been slipped around her neck in the form of a H.S.O. presentation. "Picture them all in their knickers," said Harry as he took a jacket potato from the serving plate in the middle of the table. "Great lot of help you're being!" exclaimed Ginny as she thrust the butter dish under his nose. "Thanks," said Harry. He pointed meekly at the dish of sour cream and Ginny thrust that at him as well. He dolloped a bit onto the potato and swallowed very slowly before speaking again. "Would it be too much to ask for some grated cheese?" "I'm sorry," said Ginny. She gently handed him a dish full of finely grated cheddar. "I'm just a little edgy over the prospect of having to speak in front of all those people about doilies and cake...I didn't know what I was getting myself into." James, who had silently been eating his dinner this whole time, finally piped up. "You don't have to talk about cake, Mummy." He set his fork down next to his half-eaten, cheese-covered, jacket potato. "You don't have to because I'm not going back to Miss Wicket's class, or to Madam Slapsticka's school, ever again. Even if it means I never get to be a proper wizard." Ginny couldn't even smile over James' mispronunciation of Madam Scholastica's name. He looked too miserable, the poor boy - not to mention Harry, who looked like he had the day he discovered his Nimbus 2000 had been pulverized by the Whomping Willow. "Wassthis?" asked Harry, with a mouthful of potato threatening to be spewed across the table. Ginny hadn't had the time to fill Harry in on the Amanda-thinks-I'm-cute crisis when he Apparated home from work. She'd barely had time to fill him in on the H.S.O. predicament since dinner had just been set upon the table. So, she settled on giving him the abridged version of events then and there, before he choked to death on his food. Harry chugged down half a glass of water before clearing his throat and offering advice to his forlorn son. "If your mum can get up in front of a vast assembly of school people and parents next Monday, you can face Amanda Barton in school tomorrow." Both Ginny and James blanched at Harry's proclamation. "Where's your Gryffindor courage?" he declared before strolling over to the counter to help himself to a slice of bread. For the first time in her life, Ginny had a sudden, fleeting thought that she wished she'd been a Hufflepuff. *** James had faced his crisis with a supply of guts that would have made Godric Gryffindor weep with pride. Ginny, however, felt that her Gryffindor card was about to be revoked. James had come back from his next day at school after the Amanda Incident with a skip in his step, a smile on his face, and the news that Amanda now thought Robbie McCafferty was cute. What a little tart, Ginny had thought savagely. After all, Amanda had caused James a good fifteen hours of misery, and she didn't even have the decency to think twice about him the next day? But James was over the moon about it and that was all that mattered. But today was the acid test for Ginny. At seven o'clock, she'd be expected to captivate an entire audience with her clever plans for the three-day-a-week, four-year-old group's annual Valentine's Day bash...but with what? Pink-frosted fairy cakes with glittery sprinkles? Red-lace hearts? Stunning topics, those were. Hopefully there'd be a Healer or a pub keeper among the lot of parents, because Ginny knew she'd need a shot of something before all was said and done. *** "I don't think I can go through with it," said Ginny fretfully ten minutes before it was time to Disapparate from the house. She had her crumpled speech in her left hand and beads of sweat were accumulating on her forehead. "I think I'm ill...honestly, I think I've come down with a fever." "It's just nerves," Harry reassured her. "I'd usually get that way before a Quidditch match, but it all went away once I got on my broom and the game began-" "This is not like Quidditch," Ginny spat. "I don't recall ever having to talk to the crowd during a match!" "Would it be better if I came along?" asked Harry. "I could see if we could get someone to look after James-" "No," said Ginny miserably. "We haven't the time." *** Pop! Ginny Apparated on to the school grounds of Madam Scholastica's Day Nursery and looked around at the mini-campus for a moment. There were three pretentious buildings on the property - Fairfax Hall, where the students had classes; Rochester Dining Hall, where the students had their lunches; and the Thornfield Auditorium, where assemblies and school programs were held. Thornfield. Ginny recognized the vine-covered facade of the Georgian-style structure immediately. A notice was posted outside the building that read: Annual Valentine's Bash Presentations At Tonight's H.S.O. Meeting! Top billing, thought Ginny as she scuffled towards the entryway. As she entered, she noticed a few witches and wizards were milling around the vestibule, sipping paper cups filled with pumpkin juice and eating biscuits, but most of the crowd had proceeded into the jam-packed auditorium. Inside the auditorium, voices echoed around like claps of thunder and Ginny felt her pulse quicken. She was certain her robes were soaked through with perspiration by now. She began to wonder whether eating dinner earlier that evening had been such a clever idea - she could feel the remains of her food rocketing around her insides like a bunch of bewitched Bludgers... "Mrs. Potter!" Ginny heard a cheerful voice calling from the first row of seats. Miss Wicked! Ginny felt like answering. James' teacher was waving at her madly, beckoning her to join the group of witches sitting in the first row. A little sign was posted at the end of the seats: Reserved Seating: Room Mothers Only. "I'm so glad you made it, Mrs. Potter," Miss Wicket said as she ushered Ginny to the end of row one. "Let me introduce you to the other Room Mothers." Ginny gave an artificial smile to the other witches sitting beside her. "This is Perpetua Joye, Room Mother for Miss Blanchard's two-day-a-week four-year-old group." Miss Wicket gesticulated towards a chirpy-looking, well-dressed blonde witch at the beginning of the row. "And this is Glenna McGivens, Room Mother for the three-day-a-week three-year-old group." Miss Wicket motioned towards a brunette, curly-haired witch sitting next to Perpetua Joye. Ginny heard herself muttering, "How d'you do?" over and over to the entire row of Room Mothers before Miss Wicket finally turned to Ginny and announced, "And this is Ginny Potter - you all have heard of her husband, haven't you?" The row of Room Mothers turned to Ginny and cooed in unison, "Harry Potter?" I'm going to be sick, Ginny thought. I'm going to heave right here and now, all over Mrs. Whatsherface's freshly-pressed Madam Malkin's Exclusive Designer robes. She looked at the witch sitting next to her apologetically. She was certain her ham and potatoes were going to come up any second now - Oh, why did Miss Wicked have to mention Harry in all of this? For one brief, shining moment she was just Obscure New Room Mum, but now she was New Room Mother Extraordinaire, Wife of the Wizarding World-Renowned Harry Potter...they'd expect a stunning, brilliant speech from her now! Just look at the stupid expressions on their faces! "Pssst...Mrs. Potter, you're the first one up, after Madam Scholastica gives her speech." First! Ginny clasped a hand firmly over her mouth. Dammit, stay where you are ham and potatoes! She could visualize tomorrow's Prophet headlines now: Traumatized Wife of Famous Harry Potter Vomits on Gaggle of Room Mothers at Nursery School Assembly! Photos Below. Not happening, Ginny thought as she choked down her nausea. Her palms sweat profusely during the whole of the headmistress' speech. She groaned as she realized the ink had run on the piece of wrinkly parchment she had clutched in her hand. Not such a big deal. After all, how difficult was it going to be to remember streamers, hearts and cakes? "...and now, on to the main item on our agenda this evening - the annual Valentine's Day bash!" The auditorium erupted into tumultuous applause. Ginny thought it wasn't too late for her to Disapparate. "Our first presenter this evening, representing Miss Wicket's three-day-a-week four-year-old group, is Mrs.-" Madam Scholastica squinted through her spectacles to read a note on the podium in front of her. As she read it, a look of delight spread across her face. "Our next presenter is Mrs. Ginny Potter, stepping in for Mrs. Felicity Cartwright, who I hear is doing well as she recovers in St. Mungo's!" More applause, and Ginny wasn't sure if it was for her or for Mrs. Cartwright's progress in the Potion Poisoning Ward. "Go on!" whispered the row of Room Mothers, and Ginny realized it was time for her to take center stage. *** "So, how was the meeting?" inquired Harry as Ginny appeared in the living room. "I survived," Ginny said as she plopped down upon the sofa and kicked her shoes off. "That makes me very happy," said Harry, plopping down beside her. "I'd have a hard time explaining to our son that his mum was swallowed up whole by the audience at a school assembly." Ginny scowled at him. "Too early to make jokes?" "You'd better believe it, mister," said Ginny, burrowing under his arm. "You're very brave, you know?" said Harry, giving her a squeeze. "I am...it's true," replied Ginny. "If not for my Gryffindor courage, I would not have been able to go on telling the whole lot of them about hearts and cakes after-" She paused. "After what?" asked Harry. "After taking the stage and kindly thanking Madam Slapsticka for allowing me to come!" Harry remained still and quiet for a moment, then said - very soberly - "You'd have made old Godric very proud." Ginny thought about telling him it was okay to laugh, but she thought better of it. There'd be plenty of family gatherings later on for that - she was quite certain this incident would give Fred and George ammunition until kingdom come, and later on she wouldn't care at all if they joked - Merlin, she'd probably laugh at herself as well - but right now it still stung just a bit too much, and it was good to have a husband who understood that. *** "Tomorrow's the big day, huh?" asked Harry on the evening of the thirteenth of February. Ginny nodded as she placed the last of the two-dozen, pink-frosted, red-and-white sprinkle-covered fairy cakes into a take-along container. She had a bulging sack of decorations for James' classroom sitting on the kitchen table, including some balloons and sparklers George had brought by earlier. "Are these safe?" she had asked her brother with an eyebrow raised. "Would I give them to you if they weren't?" retorted George. "Wait, don't answer that-" Ginny's eyebrow didn't budge. "I solemnly swear..." said George. "...that you aren't up to no good?" George laughed. "This is Valentine's Day, little sis...not April Fools!" "This coming from a man who thinks every day is April Fools!" George threw his hands in the air. "Guilty as charged, but I promise you, none of the kids will be harmed while sharing in the fun these Weasley products have to offer." "Can I have that in writing?" George kissed Ginny on the forehead, said, "Have fun at the Bash!" and Disapparated with a loud Crack! before Ginny could say another word. Harry rummaged through the sack and saw the triple-W emblems on the package of balloons and the box of sparklers. "Did you mention these items in your speech the other evening?" "No, but if I had, it would have made my three-and-a-half minutes on stage much more interesting." They both laughed; a lot of the sting had dulled since the disastrous H.S.O. meeting. James wandered into the kitchen, wearing pajamas and dragging his backpack behind him. He plopped down on the tile and unzipped his bag. He took out a couple of picture books; some ancient pieces of already-chewed Droobles wadded up in old wrappers; a mangled-looking peacock quill; a ball of twine (Ginny wondered what James intended to do with that); and a wrinkled piece of parchment that had a bit of old gum sticking on one of its corners. He handed the parchment to Ginny. After smoothing the creases out and being careful not to get her fingers caught in the gum, Ginny noticed the date in the top left corner of the paper. The letter - and indeed, this was another letter from Miss Wicket - was dated two weeks prior. Dear Parents, The students will require a set of Valentines to bring to school with them on 14 February, addressed to each of their fellow classmates. I do hope I've allowed enough time for you to put this project together! Regards, Miss Cordelia A. Wicket "James, dear," said Ginny through clenched teeth. "How long have you had this little note in your backpack?" James shrugged. "Dunno." He was busily wrapping twine around his ankles. "Miss Wicket didn't just send this note home today, did she?" James didn't answer. He was concentrating on getting the twine wrapped to shin-height. "Give your mum an answer," said Harry in a your-father-means-business tone. James paused as the twine had reached his knees - he was nearly to the end of his rope, in more ways than one. "No," he said. "I think...I think she put it in my bag a while ago." Ginny's grip on the note was very firm. So much so that her hand was shaking. "Okay," she said very slowly, in a very anguished tone. "There's nothing we can do about that now...what we have to do now is write Valentines for all of your little schoolmates." James breathed a sigh of relief, but looked a little panicky, as he was bound with an entire ball of twine and pretty much stuck on the kitchen floor, and at the mercy of his mother (who looked like she was ready to crack at any given moment). Ginny looked at Harry. "We'll need parchment...I have some fancy stuff out in the studio. And some quills...there are bottles of red and pink ink in the studio as well." Harry nodded and went to retrieve the items. "James...how many children are in your class?" James looked up at the ceiling as he pondered this question. "There are a lot of us," was his final answer. Ginny groaned. "Let's do it this way...can you tell me all of their names?" "Sure!" said James excitedly. "Okay then," said Ginny, equally as excited to have made some progress. Harry returned with parchment, quills and ink and Ginny was ready to start a list of the kids in James' class. James began holding up his fingers as he ticked off the names of Miss Wicket's students. He held up one finger and said, "Well, there's me..." "We gathered that much, sport!" said Harry, grinning. Ginny ignored Harry and told James to go on. "Brian...Anna...Andrew...Zachary...Samantha...Lucas...Alex..." Ginny scribbled the names down. "Anna..." "You already said that one," said Harry. "There are two people named Anna, Dad!" said James in exasperation, as if Harry should have known that already. "Robbie...Spencer...and..." James breathed an enormous sigh. "...Amanda." "And that's it then?" "I think so," said James, who was trying to disentangle himself from the twine. Harry tugged his wand from the pocket of his jeans and helped him loosen the binds. "Well, if not, the others are out of luck...this is the best I can do on such short notice." Ginny had her own wand in hand and aimed it at a pile of scarlet parchment Harry had retrieved from the studio. She muttered something under her breath and in next to no time the stack had transformed into a stack of scarlet paper hearts. "Shall I just write Happy Valentine's Day! To: Whomever, From: James on each one?" asked Ginny as she dipped her quill into some glowing-pink ink. Harry smiled devilishly. "Oh, I reckon you can do better than that!" Ginny gave him a warning glare. "Do you fancy being covered in pink ink, sir?" Harry looked a little nervous all of a sudden and shook his head fervently. Ginny's other hand was clutching the ink well threateningly. "Then don't you dare even suggest I write any poetry on these cards!" *** It was Ginny's great fortune that the Fates had finally managed to smile down upon her the next day. James had successfully remembered all of the names of the students in his class the evening before, so no one was without a Valentine card at the Bash. The fairy cakes were a huge sensation, as was the gallon of pink-tinted pumpkin juice Ginny had brought along. Miss Wicket was greatly impressed with Fred and George's throbbing, heart-shaped balloons that crooned love songs, as well as their "I'm Holding a Torch For You" sparklers that rained down oodles of magenta and silver twinkles and sparks. All in all, it was as successful as a preschool party could be expected to be. And Ginny's luck didn't run out when she and James arrived back home after the school day was finished. Molly and Arthur Weasley were sitting on her sofa in her living room. "Pack James' things...we're having all of the kids at the Burrow tonight!" said Mr. Weasley brightly. "But...it's Valentine's Day," stammered Ginny. "Sure is, and we're giving our children a treat," said Mrs. Weasley. "But what about you and dad?" said Ginny, utterly confused. "Oh, we're off to Paris next week...we'll have plenty of time for romance then," Mrs. Weasley replied with a wink and a nudge to her husband. "That's right," replied Mr. Weasley, nudging his wife right back. "So pack James up, and get yourself together. Your husband left you a note, by the way." Ginny eyed a sealed envelope on the table. She blinked a couple of times and considered pinching herself, but instead took James by the hand and led him to his room. James did a dance of joy while Ginny tossed clothes into an overnight case for him. As she plopped a couple of pairs of socks on top of the clothing, he said, "Will Reid and Artie be there, too?" "And Beatrice and Bianca as well, I expect," said Ginny, folding James' pajamas neatly and planting them into the case beside the socks. James stuck out his tongue. "Be nice!" scolded Ginny. She looked at the case. "Anything I'm forgetting?" "Mr. Snuffles!" shouted James as he grabbed a tattered stuffed dog from his bed. "We can't forget him!" acknowledged Ginny as she tucked the well-loved dog into the case and zipped it shut. *** Dear Ginny, Meet me in front of the fire at seven. Bring lots of poetry. Love, Your Inordinately Devoted Husband Ginny laughed out loud as she read Harry's note. Poetry, indeed. And under a living room ceiling Harry had enchanted so that it reflected every star in the heavens, the two made poetry together well into the night. *** Author's Note: Beware...I'm feeling extremely verbose today. ;-) Firstly, no offense is intended towards the members of Hufflepuff by Ginny's ever-so brief wish to have been in that house instead of Gryffindor - I find myself to possess many Hufflepuffian characteristics, which I prize very highly. :-) It's just that she was temporarily questioning her bravery at the thought of having to speak in public (a fear I know all too well), and that was the first alternative sorting option that came to her (my?) mind. Secondly, I have to take a moment to say thank you to my faithful readers. Your helpful comments and wonderful praise make me want to come home from a wearisome day of teaching art at summer camp to write! Because I love it when I'm personally mentioned in someone's author's note (I'm not a bit shy about admitting that, am I?!? *wink, wink*) I thought I'd return the favor to some of my loyal followers. :-D So BIG thanks to all of you who've read and reviewed, especially to Aggiebell (whom I haven't been spying on, I swear!), Antonia East (if she thinks I'm going to answer the question about "additions," she's quite mistaken! *evil grin*), arios, Beatrice, Calixa, Lady Chi (whom I apologize to for contributing to a bigger power bill, now that she's leaving her computer on 24/7!), Laura Henry, Lourdes (whom I'm pleased is a fluff/sap fan...I couldn't write a completely angst-driven fic for all the Galleons in Gringotts!), Majiklmoon (my great ORB friend!), Mr. Intel (whose constructive criticism I deeply appreciate - the "teeth pulling" scene was just for him!), Robert Owen (who should know that I've taken to running "find" to search all of my documents for the word "gotten" before sending them off to Sherry!), St Margarets (whose own writing has been an inspiration to me - if you haven't read her stuff, what are you waiting for??), Wandless One (who has prompted me to put "write a Christmas-centered chapter" on my to-do list!), and last but certainly not least, to Sherylyn (my first and most faithful reader!) - sincere thanks to all of you! I hope I haven't forgotten to mention anyone - I'll iron my hands if I have. ;-) Lastly, I must give a shout out to the individual who inspires all that I do with every piece of fan fiction I write - Jo Rowling, you are the be all and end all! What a dull world this would be without you and your lovely imagination. :-)
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