Right now my characters include Fabienne Guidry, Tobias Avalon, and Georgia Mayes.

Each one is their own free standing ficlet, and but given the time, Faye's story should bump up against Tobi's and Tobi's against George's, and George against Faye's, and so forth.

For anyone who doesn't remember Faye, please check the Hogwarts Archive; term 16 was her best year.

Stories:
Look Me In the Eye and Tell Me You Don't Find Me Attractive - Sa13+
You Can't Go Home Again - Sa13+
With a Little Help from My Friends - Sa13+
The Spirit of Cooperation - Sa13+
Better to Say Too Much Than Never to Say What You Need to Say - Sa13+
Terrified of No One Else but Me - Sa13+

An important disclaimer: The characters of Cora-Blue Latiffa, Juno Novak and Jamie Reiss do not belong to me, they belong to Dracos_Lady, Hawken_Terrell and Hermione_loves_ron respectively, and the title of the Ficlet was inspired by Where Does the Good Go by Tegan and Sarah
Look Me in the Eye and Tell Me You Don’t Find Me Attractive - Sa13+

It had been two weeks since The Love Potion Incident and things were just as strained and awkward as ever. How was it that a boy and a girl from two different houses, and two different years, could find themselves in the same place so often? Faye would have given her right hand not to have seen him every day. She would. Well not her right hand. That would make most of her artistic endeavors a bit difficult. But she still didn’t want to have to look at him every day.

The fact that she tended to sit at the Ravenclaw table rather than her own really didn’t make a difference. It’s not like if she sat alone at the Gryffindor table she’d somehow fail to notice when he entered a room. Cora would squeal and fawn, wouldn’t she? So Faye would still know. And he had this power of drawing attention, no matter how she attempted to keep her gaze stubbornly upon her porridge, it didn’t have his magnetism. And Faye hated James Reiss for that.

She hated him for the moment when she looked up and caught his eye. She hated him for the stuttering in her chest that she knew was her heart. She hated that he was actually taller than her, she hated his winning smile and doe eyes, and she especially hated his mop of curly hair always in disarray – honestly, was he too good for a haircut or a comb? And why was he still good looking even though he looked like he just fell out of a tree? Why couldn’t he be less interesting than porridge? That was the rub of it. Jamie Reiss interested her, and that made her angry.

Faye shrieked at Cora's accusation, "I do not! The idea that I could be enamored of that... that... PRETTY BOY!" she said it like it was a terrible thing, to be as attractive as Jamie was.

When she called him that, she hadn’t meant – well really she hadn’t meant for him to be listening. It’s just that Jamie’s pretty. Pretty in the Movie Star way. Pretty in a way that made Cora and so many other girls love him. Pretty in a way that irritated Faye. And as if she weren’t already irritated by his mere prettiness, Juno had lately been hinting that she was among the throng of admirers. The thought mortified her.

Whatever interest she had in Jamie was completely illogical because while Faye was artistic and free spirited, she was also practical and pragmatic. On those rare occasions when she considered what kind of boy might appeal to her, she always saw herself with average looking guys, more than likely who were not as athletic as her, would wear thick glasses, would get very excited about boring academic things, or maybe were very handy with Muggle tools. They might not even be as tall as her – she was tall for a girl. But the boy would be a little boring and very practical. Faye thought of this imaginary boy and her heart didn’t flutter at all. She felt superior, she felt sensible, and she felt smart for conceiving of such an average, practical, unexciting boyfriend.

Jamie was none of those things. He just wouldn’t do. He definitely made her heart do funny things, dangerous things. How long can a person’s heart go without beating? Crashing into him on the seventh floor stairs last week might have been a few seconds short of an emergency situation.

Faye gave up on her porridge. She couldn’t eat when so much was going on in her chest already. Between the stuttering thump due to Jamie’s presence and the hollow ache that appeared around the time she made her first rejected apology, swallowing would be a bit of a chore. She couldn’t tell if he was still angry. But she didn’t want to try again in the Great Hall with several hundred students watching. And she didn’t want to just stare at him if she didn’t have anything to say. Well she had plenty to say.

I’m sorry that I said all those things. I’m sorry I don’t want anyone to think I like you. You’re not a Pretty Boy. You’re just… good looking. Juno would have an aneurysm if he found out I liked you. –No if he thought I liked you. Because I don’t. Not that you aren’t likable. You’re very likable. I could like you a lot if it were at all practical. You’re just not practical. But that’s okay, though… you’re still great – I mean there are more important things than practical.

There was no way to say it that didn’t either insult him or betray what might really be, Merlin forbid, feelings for him. Feelings that she didn’t want and certainly didn’t want to admit to. Somewhere between frustrated and utterly depressed, Faye seized her sketching bag off the floor left the hall, with no destination in particular in mind. Away was all that mattered.

I like reviews, so If you liked, or if you didn't, please review!

Okay, so, no reviews for me.... that makes me a little sad... But I am not deterred. I continue to emo ficlet my little heart out!

This one is George!Fic. Anyone who has seen George in action knows she's snarky and sarcastic, with a bad attitude. But once upon a time she was a little girl, a weird little too smart girl who actually had emotions.

What happened? I wonder.

The characters are mine, but for Prof. Airlia who is mentioned. That one is Kris's and I didn't ask her, DON'T KEEL ME! The title is from Thomas Wolfe's Novel by the same name.

You Can’t Go Home Again - Sa13+

October 26th

Dear Mum and Dad,

I’m actually fitting in here well. It’s just like a normal school, only the classes focus on… well, things I didn’t ever imagine I was capable of. They’re teaching me to fly here. Can you believe it? Like actually defy gravity by getting up and sitting on what appears for all intents and purposes to be an old fashioned broomstick. I’m actually not terrible at it. And levitating. I can make a feather levitate! It took me AGES to get the incantation right but now I’ve pretty much got it dow-

Eleven year old Georgia Mayes crumpled up the letter with one hand and willed herself not to cry, in her other hand was the envelope addressed to her parents, in her handwriting. She hadn’t been home for Christmas break for 20 minutes before she saw it lying on the little table by the front room. Figuring that since she had written it, she had the right to open it, she broke the seal without even thinking.

On the table with the letter she had opened were three others, all unopened, all asking for a reply, two of them asking why none had come.
“I opened all of mine.” A small voice broke into George’s hurt reverie. She looked up from her white-knuckled grip on the offending letter at her then-sweet younger brother, Sam, who until that moment she often considered to be a pain. She tried to smile for him. I will not cry, I will not cry.

“I liked the part about flying. It sounds like a lot of fun.” Sam was nine years old, and knew very well that the reason his parents had not opened his sister’s letters was because they were utterly ashamed of the fact that she was different from other children in their high society life. If he weren’t a perceptive child already, he merely had to hear his mother the day Georgie was left at King’s Cross, “Heaven help me if the ladies in the Junior League hear about this!” To his mind, his sister hadn’t been very interesting up until she had gotten a letter delivered by an Owl, and then everything changed in a matter of moments. True, he had once previously witnessed her actually make a bully’s football turn into a large rotten cabbage that exploded as he kicked it, but she had sworn it wasn’t her, and since no one but Sam believed in magic at the time, nothing ever came of it, but really, Georgie’s existence began properly for him as soon as he discovered she was a witch, and that she wouldn’t be living with him anymore.

“It is fun,” said George absently, seizing the letters from the table and marching over to the fireplace. She was mostly oblivious to her brother’s enthusiasm, though on some level, it did touch her that someone cared what was going on in her life. All four of the family’s lavishly decorated stockings hung across the mantle –also lavishly decorated just like the entire house itself. Once George would have thought it pretty, at the moment it only served to nauseate her with rage. Perfect and pretty like the family that occupied it. Just as George, with dark red hair, knobbly knees, and wide staring grey eyes was coming into that awkward stage that began right before her teens and lasted until her twenties was not fitting in with the perfect family. A family full of brown eyed and blond haired Muggles; well dressed and well proportioned. She had always stood out among them, and now as a witch, she was doomed never to fit in, in any way. I will not cry I will not cry.

Sam chattered on, trying to reassure his sister that he liked her letters, and hoped she would at least continue to keep in touch with him while she was away. His parents didn’t know he had received any letters. Privately he wondered if he would be allowed to receive any if they did. He had always gotten his own letters by way of his own Owl, through his own window, so they never had cause to say anything about his sister’s deviant education, methods of post, or again, what their friends would say if they knew. “Did you really learn how to make a potion to give someone boils, Georgie? Is it harder than curing them? ”

George smiled and tossed all the letters she had sent her parents into the fireplace. It was surreal how utterly emotionless she was as they curled and disintegrated in the flame. Sam really had a sweet heart, and a charming kind of curiosity. “Not exactly, just different. Professor Airlia set it to us as a sort of Midterm Examination.”

“That’s so cool!” Sam exclaimed. “I hope I get a letter like you when I’m old enough and then I can go away to Magic School too!”

George’s eyes suddenly went wide and she turned to face him with a ferocity that he hadn’t seen since the exploding cabbage incident, he wondered if he was about to be turned into a cabbage too.

“Now, Samuel Mayes, you listen to me very carefully,” said George slowly and with an intensity that frightened her sweet young brother, “the last thing you want is to go away to a magical school.”

If he did, she had learned it the hard way, he couldn't come home again either.

I will not cry, I will not cry.

aww poor Georgie.

How did I not find this earlier?

I loved it! I loved both entries, especially Faye's one. I loved how she clearly has feelings for Jamie, and yet she refuses to admit it.

This is awesome. PAMS.

Yep, it's hard to believe, but once she was a nice little girl you could feel sorry for, now she's evil on wheels terrorizing Ivan for sport. My how things change...

I am Ninja

worry not, another Faye!Fic is only minutes from posting.

Thank you both so much for reviewing! I was starting to wonder if anyone was out there. 'cept for the crickets.

Okay, first of all, I wanna thank Krel and Oesed again, because first reviews ever, and that's kind of a charge. And second, not only does HawkenTerrell's character Juno Novak figure REALLY prominently into this story, but I wrote it for him. So enjoy lovie.

And if anyone didn't recognize it, the title is blatantly stolen from the Beatles.

With a Little Help from My Friends – Sa13+

What do most people do for the winter blahs? Some people go on holiday to Mexico. Others listen to upbeat music.

What did fifteen-year-old Fabienne Guidry do? She closed herself up in her attic and painted.

Right. Because all an eccentric girl like you needs is to be closed up in a small unventilated space with fumes…

“Shut up Juno.” Faye told the disembodied voice of her schoolmate through clenched teeth.

Faye knew she was neither hallucinating, nor was Juno Novak paying her some kind of psychic visit while she was on Christmas holiday. She was merely imagining what he would say if he could see her, in such detail that she could almost hear his voice. Or maybe she had been cooped up with her oil paints too long. But she would never tell 'Juno' that.

Because I actually am you, scary though that thought is, the fact that you recognize the potential danger of paint fumes, even without saying it out loud, I still know you admitted it.

“Shut up Juno.” Faye repeated. She put down her paint brush and marched over to the old stereo in the corner. It was perched unceremoniously on a milk crate; she popped in a CD of punk music and cranked it loud. She expected a visit from her sister in not very long – outraged at the decibel level, and if it weren’t too much to ask, could a woman in her condition please get some peace and quiet.

Janine Guidry was the oldest of Faye’s three siblings and by far the most entitled. To what Faye wasn’t quite sure, but whatever it was, Janine wasn’t getting it, and it was a horrible affront to her sensibilities. It hadn’t even let up since Janine had gotten married and moved out. You would think that now her demands and expectations would be her husband’s problem, but no, she still spent an inordinate amount of time at the house complaining about all the ways the world had not bowed down before her.

And it’s only about to get worse. Juno’s voice reminded her. Faye thought she detected a note of smugness, but it was possible that was just the usual cadence of his voice.

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t ask you,” Faye told his voice, loudly over the blaring guitar of her CD. The voice was right though. Janine had announced over Christmas dinner last week that she and John were going to have a baby that summer. Oh goody. What fun her summer holiday would be. The heat and humidity of Quebec, and to keep it interesting, throw in a heavily pregnant and cranky sister. As if Janine wasn’t demanding enough under normal circumstances.

“Maybe I can stay at Hogwarts for the summer.”

I’d love to see you convince Professor Rae you’re enough of a hardship case for that. And when it fails don’t look at me. I’m not taking you in.

“I wasn’t talking to you!” Faye bellowed. She spun on her heal and looked wildly around the room. “You’re not even here! Just assume whatever I say, unless I address you wasn’t meant for you!”

So… you didn’t actually address me that time, does that apply to me, or can I ignore it?

Faye let out a strangled scream. “JUNO NOVAK, unless I tell you I’m talking to you, DO NOT ANSWER ME!!”

A rapping noise sounded against the trapdoor of the attic. “Faye?” The muffled voice of Remy, Faye’s older brother asked, “Are you okay in there?”

“I’M FINE!” Faye shrieked at the wood panelling

You’re loosing it.

“That’s it, Juno.”

“Huh?” Remy asked, from his side of the trapdoor.

From her side of the trapdoor, Faye had had enough of everyone, so she kicked it open.

THUMP!

Faye was dimly aware that Remy had been launched down the hall and was in a heap moaning, as she stomped down the staircase the open trapdoor had formed. She didn’t stop to help him up.

“I need some air,” she muttered.

Haha. That was funny. You did a good job of capturing Juno.

^I agree. I remember Juno back when he was a seventh year, and those things sound exactly like things Juno would have said.

-Dies a little-

Pams. Pams. Pams.

::Enter Juno::

I do not sound like that.

::leaves and exploding pumpkin pasty for you::

very good love.

That was very amusing. And, I do believe that sounds a lot like Juno, >.>

<.<

At least that's what we (Bucky and myself) believe.


Good, job, deeeaaar <3. Keep 'em coming!

Reviews reviews! *happy spinny dance* Revieews!

Thanks Krellie! I loves my first reviewer.

I'll hurry, I promise!

*is pasty-ed* ah just like the good old days!

so glad you liked it


Ah, my Ama and Bucky, thanks for all your support honey! If you weren't so Team Faymie I'd not be writing anything at all! one day I'll write one with Etti, just for Bucky. If that poor kind only knew what the future would bring...

I've already commented on the first two stories before, but just for the sake of giving you encouraging, raving reviews, I shall add more! Plus, you used Jamie in your debut story and I can't help but love that.

Jamie would like to point out that he's quite pleased to be used in the story, by the way, and he still apologizes for all the headaches he caused Faye in school, even if he got a lot of hot snogging time in the end for it all. Haha!

one;;
I love this, because a.) it is obviously so Faye and b.) I love character introspeciton. Faye is a little less than insane and I love that she has conversations with herself. Plus. I TOTALLY DO THAT WHEN I'M IN DENIAL TOO! Very cute. Very amusing.

I love her. She's fantastic. Haha.

two;;
This one is SO very sad and distressing. =[ In a way, it reminds me of Ashlie, whose parents cut her off when she went to school. Eventually, she moved out and severed their ties from each other. :/ I fear this will happen to her. Awwww so sad!

I love her little brother, though! How cute! The way he reassures her and tells her that he read all the letters, babbles on about the content... :3 So cute, so sweet!

three;;
AHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHAHHAA! Does that accurately sum it up? I do feel it does. Oh how remniscient it is of Juno. I miss his character - he and Jamie were such bee eff eff, and how, I do not know, because as you accurately portray, he was so cranky and weird. LOL Oh goodness. :3

You did so well on that one, capturing the characters. Poor Faye. Imagining Juno... as if she couldn't have conjured up anyone better to keep her and her paint fumes company. xD So cute!

Fabulous job! I can't wait for more!

I'm sorry it took me so long to thank you for reviewing. It meant so much to me that you did and I wanted to write a big long thanks and so on, and I didn't and I'm made of teh suck.

Jamie is forgiven always. and PS Faye adores his hair, but you have to admit Tobi's got some wicked hair.

and PPS we were The Friends of Hogwarts. Jamie was Ross. He so was!!

There were more reviews!!! *dances* Thanks guys! SO MUCH!! *gives you all PIE!!*

Whew! It took me forever to hammer out a Tobi!Fic. He's very hard to write about in these types of fics because he's kid of like a foolish puppy, he's naive and a bit dumb. But he means so well. He's rarely cranky. So every time something goes wrong he takes it in stride. Very hard to write growing pains fiction about him. So anyway, here is his story. It includes the family I developed for him way back when, but the only ones you actually see are his oldest sister and his great grandmother. The title is original, but I still like it.

The Spirit of Cooperation – Sa13+

“Aren’t you a lazy thing?”

“AAARGH!!” Tobias Benjamin Avalon leapt from his bed clad only in his underpants. Or he would have but his feet were twisted in his sheets; he was the type of active sleeper who got more exercise in deep slumber than most people got while they were wide awake. So impeded by his treacherous bed sheets, his leap from bed actually turned out to be more of a nose-dive (quite literally) towards the floor.

“Tsk, tsk!” Caroline Kinney Avalon admonished while her great grandson lay on the floor groaning. “Up and at ‘em boy, it’s 8:30. In my day we got up at dawn to do the day’s work.”

Tobi tried to glare, but he was still seeing stars a bit. “Weren’t you born in 1966? You make it sound like it was the Irish Potato Famine.” Tobi knew very well that his grandmother was raised as a flower child by hippies and peace-mongers. His great-great grandfather had met his great-great grandmother while protesting to get the Statute of Secrecy repealed. Heck of time to be trying at it. The 1970’s hit and with it came Voldemort. Some people would say it’s the absolute perfect time to let the Muggles know about Magic, Tobi wasn’t sure he disagreed completely, but the Ministry sure didn’t have any of it.

“Don’t you disrespect me boy!” Grandmamma Avalon admonished, swooping down on him to give him a futile kick, “terrible state of affairs! When the youth of the age can’t muster respect for their elders, and the DEAD!”

Tobi’s vision cleared very quickly when his Great Grandmother’s icy foot passed right through his bottom. He gave a yelp and jumped up, very unsteadily as his one foot was still tangled in his sheets, clutching his bed post for support. “Technically, you’re undead. Ghosts are classified as neither living nor dead.”

Grandmamma Avalon did not like that. She started screeching at the top of her non-lungs. It didn’t take long for a response to burst through the door.

“WHAT DID YOU DO THIS TIME!?” Caroline Avalon, the younger, and perhaps crankier, and definitely more living, shouted over the din of her namesake. It was amazing how much she could resemble her pearly predecessor when she advanced upon him, clearly blaming him for the disturbance.

Grandmamma Avalon quieted down immediately upon noticing the arrival of Caroline. Of the four Avalon children, Caroline was easily her favourite. She hadn’t even died yet, and she had insisted that Caroline be named after her. “He sassed me, darling.”

Caroline’s nostrils flared. Tobi, still rather shall we say, exposed, crept towards his wardrobe in what he hoped was a non-threatening manner.

“Grandmamma,” Caroline said with patience reserved for the ghost and no one else, “Tobi is a trying, stupid young thing, I know; he is disrespectful and completely incompetent. But all the same, you mustn’t draw such attention to yourself when he does something characteristic of himself. Not all of our guests understand ghosts. And none of them understand the depths of Tobi’s feeble-mindedness.”

Tobi scowled as he pulled on his jeans. His big sister was enjoying tearing him down just a little too much. If his wand weren’t on his bed side table he might have thought of sending a jinx her way, he was newly seventeen, he could do it without getting in trouble. But it was just as well, most charms, jinxes and hexes he tried to cast didn’t go so well. He’d likely end up being the one with the jelly legs even if his wand were available. Besides, bad-mouthing him to the temperamental ghost was actually the best way to get rid of her.

“Now Grandmamma, why don’t you go back to the basement? I’ll join you there shortly. We can chat while I do the washing,” Caroline suggested.

“Oh, that sounds lovely.” Grandmamma Avalon chirped. “It’s much too bright up here. And it wouldn’t do to be seen by a Muggle.” She dropped down through the floor out of sight.

“You owe me,” Caroline informed her brother.

Tobi began reconsidering the chances of his hex backfiring, and just how quickly he could reach his wand.

If I move really fast and focus really hard…

“And you are SO lucky that there are no guests on this side of the Inn right now,” she added.

“I didn’t DO anything!” Tobi refuted.

“Not yet you haven’t,” Caroline grabbed a questionably clean cotton shirt off the back of a chair and threw it at Tobi. It hit him in the face, affirming its state of ‘semi-clean.’ She turned to leave, giving him orders as she went. “Finish getting dressed, you’ll want to get the weeding in the vegetable patch finished before the sun gets too high. I’ll help you practice your Apparition when you’re done.”

Down in the basement, Grandmamma Avalon sat on the washing machine, fidgeting rather impatiently for a woman who had been dead for nearly 20 years.

Caroline entered moments later, whistling, and obviously pleased with herself. She hopped up and sat on the dryer just next to her Great Grandmother. “Well Grams, we did it.”

“Got him out of bed and into the garden in less than 20 minutes,” the ghost agreed. “You’re father said it couldn’t be done.”

Caroline smiled wider. “He, Evie and Briony owe me 5 sickles a piece. Mum stayed out of the bet.”

“She was always a stick in the mud.”

::chuckles:: poor Tobi. Nobody loves him.

Great job Renee

haha Tobi is such a bum. Too bad he's not a Ravenclaw, I'd have loved to see Cale wake him up in the morning. He probably would have used Robin.

ZOMG this is why I should click on the links in people's siggy's more often. I knew you were an amazing RPer, but I didn't know you were an amazing writer too!

*subscribes*

AHHH! Why did I not know that you had updated THIS? I love Tobi, and lololol, this was priceless.

Great job, Renee! PAMS.

I love Tobi! Don't say nobody, I'm someone.



I also love George, poor Georgie dearest, and Faye, although I never knew her. You know what I mean. Write more soon, about any/all of them! Wheee! I like these ficlet thingies very, very much!

*applauds for my piemaker*

Thanks luff! and when you say nobody, you mean nobody but Aggie right?

Tobi would DIE!

yay! subscriber subscriber!

and

*hides under her desk until she returns to her usual pallor.*

thank you for the high praise luff!

AMing in like 2 minutes! I should really reply to these as I get them...


You're totally right, we need an applause emote and a pie emote. sadly i don't know how to draw them, much less submit them.

Wheee!!!

Okies, so this is a departure, because it's not about Tobi, Faye or George. It's about Tobi's Dad, mostly. and it's wicked long. I wrote it for HoM, and I figure, why not? It's close enough, right? The title? John Mayer, Say. So Conner, I took your advice.


Better to Say Too Much Than Never to Say What You Need to Say - Sa13+

From the moment seventeen year old Ben Avalon boarded the Hogwarts Express bound for King’s Cross station, every nerve in his six foot body was humming. A tall, dark haired, gawky boy, Ben wasn’t the type to make for much speculation among the girls in his graduating class, though there was a fourth year girl in Gryffindor that was rather taken with him. Ben had pretended not to notice, concentrating hard on his studies like a good Ravenclaw. Truth be told, the only girl that interested him at all, so interested him that she made up for his lack of interest in all other girls. She also happened to be picking him up from King’s Cross that very afternoon.

In a small tourist town like Glastonbury, Somerset, everyone knew everyone; even the Muggles tended to rub up against their eccentric neighbours, who, unbeknownst to them, just happened to be of wizarding stock. Mea Gzowski was the quintessential girl next door, she and her mother, Giada, lived across the lane from Ben and his grandmother. The two women regularly butted heads but Ben and Mea had grown up chasing frogs, making mud pies, and climbing trees.

When Ben had gone away to Hogwarts his grandmother had told Mea that he was attending a highly selective boarding school in Scotland. It wasn’t technically a lie and since Caroline Kinney Avalon never did care for Ben’s choice in company she certainly didn’t feel guilty about it. Still, despite Caroline’s best efforts, there were six summer holidays and seven Christmas holidays for Ben to come home and see his best friend thus, their relationship found time to grow until the title of best friend was something Ben was something he found he would rather like to re-examine. This thought occurred to him in sixth year, when on Christmas holiday, Mea described a practice at her school, a Ball called a Cotillion that she had attended with the Class President, and the glass of apple cider he had been holding in his hand exploded.

But the past wasn’t nearly as important as the present. For months, since Christmas holidays, Ben had planned to meet Mea at King’s Cross. He’d told his grandmother he would Apparate, and instructed Mea to tell her mother that she was meeting friends in London, lest his grandmother get wind of the truth and throw a wrench in the works. Mea found all this utterly confusing. For one thing, how did his grandmother think Ben was getting home? For another, why did it matter if she was picking him up? What could they possibly be doing on the drive from London to Somerset?

Ben dodged most of these questions, mostly answering with, “Just trust me, I’ll explain at the end of term.” And Mea did trust Ben so she accepted this answer with cautious trust, waiting at Platform Nine on the drizzly June afternoon. Ben appeared, pulling his trunk along on a trolley, all smiles and impossibly long limbs. Mea’s eyes narrowed.

“Why did you have me wait here if you were getting off at Platform Ten?” she demanded, “I wanted to meet you!” Mea wasn’t known for her quick temper, but she tended to get miffed when her good intentions got spoiled.

“You are meeting me,” Ben deflected her question by picking her up and hugging her. He heard her muffled squeal of protest, but he paid her no heed, he was used to it by now. It was their way, since about age fourteen, he’d been able to pick her up and carry her around like a sack of flour, and there wasn’t much she could do about it, he had almost a foot and sixty pounds on her. “Where’s the car?” he asked.

“Put me down you idiot!” she howled, kicking his shins and thrashing. Her glasses flew off her face and skittered under a ticket box.

Ben sighed. “Now look what you’ve done.” He put her down. “I suppose you want me to go pull them out from under there don’t you?”

Mea huffed her curly dark blond hair, now in some serious disarray thanks to her so-called best friend, out of her face and attempted to glare the soul out of him. “It’s your fault they got under there! And you have longer arms than I do!”

Ben rolled his eyes at her, but all the same, he gamely got down on his hands and knees and dug out Mea’s glasses. They were coated in who knows how many years worth of dust and assorted unidentifiable rubbish. Eww. He stood and held them out to her, “Er, here you go.”

Mea’s eyes narrowed futher. “Thank you,” she ground out, snatching them up. “If you’ll excuse me, for just a moment, I’ll be in the ladies room, washing these off, as I need them to make sure we don’t make an accidental detour through the Underground.”

As Mea disappeared into the public toilets, Ben leaned back against the wall, rapping the back of his head against it for good measure. This was not going at all like he had envisioned it. He had expected to go directly to her car. He had expected they would simply make a stop somewhere between London and home, sit on the roof of the car as was their custom, though the weather was currently a little inclement, and he would tell her everything. They hadn’t even left the Station yet. And she was mad. Mea never got mad. Okay, actually she tended to get annoyed with him on a regular basis, but it was still not the best way to start a conversation where one confesses the fact that they are a wizard, among other things.

“Hey, Ben!”

There IS no GOD!

If only one thing could make things worse it was Tallis and Taya Blackmoor, two Gryffindors who had their own special gifts for making situations awkward. Beyond their incredible gift of timing, Tallis simply didn’t know when to shut up, and his younger sister Taya was the only girl in the entire school who seemed to have an infatuation with him, and she wasn’t subtle about it. In that moment Ben seriously considered marching into the girl’s toilet and using a cleansing charm on Mea’s glasses. It would certainly get everything out into the open. He’d probably also get into huge amounts of trouble. The Statute of Secrecy and all that. It wouldn’t do to get arrested would it?

So, “Hi Tallis, Taya,” Ben greeted the two very unwelcome Gryffindors through clenched teeth.

“Hi Ben” Taya giggled. She did that a lot in his presence.

“I thought a friend was picking you up?” Tallis prattled, he had a nose for gossip, and liked to think he knew everything. “If she stood you up, you can get a ride home with our Dad, he’s a Ministry Official you know. Very highly placed.”

Well that certainly accounts for your pomposity.

Taya looked like she was going to cry. “She? Who was going to meet you?”

“What’s going on here?”

Crap.

Mea had returned, and she could plainly see Ben talking to two people dressed in what was probably the funniest attire she had ever seen, as neither Tallis nor Taya had bothered to change out of their school robes.

“I, uh, we…”

“Ben, who are these people?”

“I’ll explain in the car.” Ben picked up his trolley and made to hurry out of there. Tallis, for once silent, stared at him with eyes like dinner plates, Taya looked utterly crushed.

“No,” said Mea, refusing to budge, even as Ben walked past her and halted, confused, “you’ll explain here. Now.”

“If you don’t already know, he’ll get in trouble if he tells you!” Taya suddenly snarled.

Mea jumped but recovered quickly, “Oh really?” she retorted. “Well excuse me, I don’t believe we’ve met, I’m Ben’s best friend, he doesn’t keep secrets from me. And just who do you think you are?”

“I’m the girl he’s going to marry someday,” Taya replied boldly. Ben wished in that moment that the stone beneath him would crack open and swallow him whole. “And I know lots more about him than you do!”

Shut up, shut up shut up!

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Like it’s time to go, Mea! Are you hungry? I’m famished, want go get some fish and chips?” Ben attempted to grab her by the arm a take her bodily out of there, but Mea threw him off.

Taya took Mea’s challenge, “I know he does a better Bludger Backbeat than anyone in Hogwarts. I know if he paid more attention in Transfiguration he might have been able to become an Animagus, and I know he likes me too!”

Tallis had turned a horrible shade of green, Ben was beyond embarrassed, his most pressing concern was what Mea would make of this information, and Mea was so red she was almost purple. Taya however, was perfectly serene. “What?” she asked her brother, “I didn’t let the big secret slip. She won’t understand.”

Mea looked like a pressure cooker whose lid was screwed on too tight. “Benjamin Avalon,” she commanded with her voice shaking, “You will explain all of this righ-”

“OBLIVIATE!”

Ben watched in silent horror as a jet of light hit Mea and all the fury slid from her face, her green eyes went glassy and emotionless.

“Dad!” Tallis cried as a wizard stepped out from around a corner.

“Stay with the girl, Tallis. Taya, young man, come with me,” Mr Blackmoor seemed quite as pompous as his son was. He issued orders and dragged Ben out of earshot of Mea all in the same instant.

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded of Ben, in a blustery voice that Ben could only assume was his usual cadence. “You have seriously breached the Statute of Secrecy, discussing Hogwarts with an obvious Muggle!”

“Me!” Ben refuted, “Taya -”

“Taya warned the girl that the matter could not be discussed. The blame falls squarely on you.”

Ben stared over at Taya who was looking most determinedly at her shoes.

Mr Blackmoor blustered on, “I’m sure you’re aware that I work for Magical Law Enforcement. And I do regret to inform you that we cannot overlook such a flouting of the Statute. The Minister just would not have it. As such, you’ll be fined 100 Galleons for the offence, payable to the Ministry, and your friend’s memory will be altered to reflect that you never saw her today, you will Apparate home directly if you are capable, if not, I will arrange for transportation.”

“But that’s completely unfa-”

Mr Blackmoor held up a hand to silence him. “If you have a grievance with the Ministry, there is a system in place. Taya, please fetch his trunk.”

In moments Ben had his trunk and found himself home. If he had thought Mea was mad at him before, it was nothing to how she would be with the false memory now rattling around in her head.

Fury like Ben had never known burned inside him as he paced his bedroom. Ministry meddlers! First they erase her memory and then they give her one that pretty much ruins any chance that he would have to tell her.

But he wasn’t giving up, oh no sir, if Blackmoor thought he could get his precious daughter out of trouble and place all the blame on Ben that was one thing, but he wasn’t going to let the Ministry mess around in his life just because it suited them.

“Grandmamma!” he hollered as he bounded down the stairs into the kitchen, “How do you go about filing an appeal with the Ministry?”

you know I think this is awesome. Is it weird, that when you submitted this, my mind totally started searching for a dramatic score? Well it did.





and...


you are a really good writer and junk.

OHHHHHHHHHHHH! oh oh oh oh oh this is so GOOD! I simply must know more about what happens. EEEEk curiosity kills me.

And you really are a fantastic writer, like Con says.

*teehees*


does it hurt to be as awesome as you are?

Renee. I need to know more. I am terribly CURIOUS -spazzes and flails-

And REALLY--Conner is right. You are an amazing writer.

PAMSPAMSPAMS!