Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

By The Light	By : lycanthrope Category: Harry Potter > FemSlash - Female/Female Views: 17685 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: All of the characters portrayed in this fic (apart from Jamie.) and all other creations existing within the world Of Harry Potter are the creative genius of J.K Rowling, I make no profit from the writing or posting of this fan fiction.

Chapter List
- 25
- 26
- 27
Chapter 26

Muggles. Everywhere I look, every time I turn. They're everywhere. All of them so lost in their own world that they don't even take the time to look up from their open newspaper as I exit the train. All completely oblivious to the world around them, basking in their own ignorance. Hundreds of them crowd the platform and press against each other in desperation to board the train.

The touching is the first thing I notice so many warm bodies pressed into such a tight space, that it can't be helped. A bump of a shoulder, a brush of an unbridled limb against any surface of flesh. It's seconds before I’m overwhelmed, that’s when I notice the murmuring. Not so much in conversation, but the collective sound of hundreds of breaths and non-committal grunts uttered as all of them bumble about through life bumping into each other.

The sharpness of my senses isn't helping either. The thick stench of stale sweat and oil filling my nostrils.

The heavy crowd barely thins as I follow the each notice, directing me from the platform and further into the station. The muscles in my shoulders bunching and my teeth gritting against a sheathing comment every time anyone steps too far into my personal space but nothing can stop the feral grow rumbling low in my throat. The carnal sound is swallowed by the incessant din all around me and is cut short, my eyes widening slightly and my feet stopping beneath me, wondering when muggles came into the possession of magic.

My head tilts to the side, as I regard the moving staircase. Steps appearing from under the floor and gently travel upwards. Muggles, pushing past me and shaking their heads stepping onto the contraption as if it were the most natural thing in the world in which to do so. Even after taking in their relaxed attitude, which implies they are used to this form of transportation I still find my eyes scanning the crowded platform. Expecting an Unspeakable to step out of the shadows and scrub every memory clean of even having seen such a staircase.

Yet all that continues around me is the bustle of muggles as they go about their business. No loud crack of apparition, nor booming shout to cast a blanket of memory charm. Cautiously I approach the moving staircase and step onto it, feeling it shift beneath me and carry me towards the top. Taking note of the metallic step and the thick groves caved deeply into the alloy. The design is a far cry from anything I have encountered before but such magic's do exist in many magical communities and it is baffling to think that the ministry would turn a blind eye to it's continued use by muggles.

As I near the top of the moving staircase I happily note that the dull grey that surrounded me in the platform, gives way to bright white tiles and after a fair amount of negotiation through the crowd I find the exit. Handing my ticket over to the waiting porter I try to remain patent as he pears down the at small oblong card. After his eyes pass over it once he uses a small hand held device to punch a circular hole through the ticket and turns back to me with a smile. “Enjoy your day, Miss.” I polity nod in his direction as the tips of his fingers touch the peak of his blue cap. My head turning to keep my eyes on the strange man as I pass, my confused frown held in place as I peer over my shoulder.

I freely admit that I personally have never spent a great deal of time in the presence of muggles but the way they interact with each other and the way the move through their environment is a far cry from the picture that has been painted to me of their existence since early childhood. The notion of their prehistoric barbarian ways not shown to me in the small amount of contact I have had on this long journey.

“Jay!” Even without the added effect the wolf inside me has given to my hearing I would have been able to hear my brother's voice as it carried across the crowd.

The last time I clapped eyes on Dale was the day he packed his bags, exchanged some very heated profanities with my father and stormed out of the house. That was almost seven years ago and yet he still looks exactly as I remember. His scruffy mop of deep brown hair beginning to thin at the edges bobbing about on his head as he walks, only just missing his eyes with each step. In some ways his frame mirrors my own. It appears that long, lonely days of starvation at the hands of a parent does not provoke a hearty apatite into adulthood. However what he lacks in girth he makes up for in stature. He must dwarf my five foot eleven stance by at least three inches. His long arm held aloft and violently waving in my direction an unneeded bid to grasp my attention as he stands high above many of the passers by and is easily spotted.

He shifts his body to walk sideways through a densely populated patch of the station and come to stand before me. “How was your trip?” The smile on his face belays nothing but pure, unadulterated excitement and his calf muscles steadily clench and relax, making his whole frame bounce up and down on the spot.

“Fine.” I say, keeping my voice level. “Thank you.”

“You've grown.” He says, holding his arms out to the side and letting his eyes travel the length of me. “Why. You must have been about...” He holds his hand out, palm facing the floor about three inches below my chin. “Yay big, last time I saw you.” For a long moment he just smiles, gazing at me with a look of awe on his face. He must notice my silent response because his smiling eyes lock with mine. “I'm going to hug you.”

I can feel the colour drain from my face and my eyes budge at the announcement. “What?” I have barely manage to expel the word before I am as stiff as a board, engulfed in his long arms. Only after taking three very deep, shaky breaths am I able to unclench my fists and tap his side lightly. Returning the unexpected show of affection in the only way I truly know how.

His hands bunch into fists in my jacket for only a moment before he is pushing me away, holding me at arms length so he can once again look up and down my body. That insistent grin wrinkling the skin around his eyes and making his iris' sparkle. “It's been too long Sis.” He finally says and to my relief, releases me from his grasp. “Just too long.”

I clear my throat and try not to appear uncomfortable but still nod my consent.

He's only silent for a moment before holding his hand out to me. “I can take your bag.”

Even though I will them not to, I can feel my fingers tighten, protectively around the strap slung over my shoulder. “That wont be necessary.” I say, hoping and praying to all of the gods that he wont press the issue.

He shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders. “Suit yourself.” He steps to the side and holds out his long arm in an indication for me to walk in that direction. “Now Madame. You're carriage awaits.”

Now that he has drawn attention to it, most of my concentration strays to the satchel lightly pressing against my side and I pull the strap more securely over my shoulder, hooking my thumb beneath it so it can rest against my collar bone. Lightly I step in the direction he has indicated and take note of his presence as he fall into step beside me.

With light touches and gentle direction he leads me to a set of glass doors, which I might add he steps forward and pushes open for me to step through. I feel myself taking a deep breath and finally being out in the open air and follow half a step behind my brother as he leads me between endless automobiles, digging deep into his pockets as he walks.

He pulls forth a messy bunch of keys and presses a button on the small black box held to the keyring. Right in front of me the automobile makes two high pitched squawks into the air and I stay rooted to the spot, willing my racing heart to slow down after the startling sound. “Hop in.” Is the only comment Dale makes opening the front door on the right hand side and disappearing from view.

Cautiously I step around the other side of the vehicle, sweeping my eyes along the panels in a search of the entrance, ceasing my forehead when I can see no plausible method to open the door.

Dale pushes his way into my sites, resting his crossed hands on the automobiles roof and looking at me strangely. “What's the matter?”

I shake my head at him. “Nothing.”

“Then get in the car.” he whines.

I have to swallow the lump building in my throat in order to overcome my pride and simply admit. “I am uncertain how.”

“Oh.” He blinks in my direction, blankly a few times before understanding washes over his face. “Damn.” He closes his door with a hollow bang and walks around to where I stand. “I'm sorry. I forgot. You just...” He reaches out, his fingers going beneath a gap in the panel and pulls it outwards. “Pull the handle. Then it'll open.”

“I see.” I nod, committing the action to memory. I have a feeling that, this small piece of knowledge is something I will be needing over the next fortnight. “Thank you.” I add, careful to always be submitting to his superior knowledge and having him see it.

“Don't mention it.” He says with a shrug turning on his heal to return to his side of the car. “Everyone's gotta learn some time.”

Shock rings through my entire body at his words, so far removed from anything I had expected. Granted he had expected me to be familiar with this kind of transportation but it had only taken a second for him to release my ineptness in this situation. Then not only had his words been soft and kind but he provided me with the tools in which to complete the task should it's need arise in the future. If this frame of mind Dale appears to have adopted over the years is genuine all of my preparation might be rendered unessential. However I have enough experience to know that anyone’s mood can spin on a Sickle. So I would do well not to let my guard down until I can be absolutely sure.

His arms land once more on the cars roof and exasperated sigh falling from his lips telling me I have taken to long to enter the vehicle. “Seriously Jamie. Get in the car.” He says before turning and sliding into his seat.

It is deceptively easy to slither into my seat and I position my bag between my feet on the floor. Pulling the door closed with far to much force I flinch against the resounding slam. “Sorry.” I jump into my apology before I have even processed the thought to open my eyes after wincing.

“That's okay.” He says and I can detect a stain layered into his voice, which he is trying to eradicate. He reaches out over the top of the wheel in front of him to caress the protruding plastic that runs along the bottom of the front window. “It's okay baby. She didn't mean it.”

“Are you...” I pause, knowing it would be more sensible for me to bite my tongue but this behaviour is far too odd to turn a blind eye to. “Are you talking to your car?”

“Of course I am.” He admits, his hand reaching for a protruding stick between us and pushes against the knob at it's tip. “You can't expect her to start first time if you don't show her a little love now and then.”

Not wanting to provoke any further caressing I mutely nod. Unsure exactly how one would show any sort of love, or for that matter any sort of feeling to an inanimate object. “I see.”
He tilts his head to the side, then shakes his head. “Na, you don't.” I hold his eyes for several seconds. Determined not to be so transparent in future. “Buckle up.” He says after a few moments of contemplative silence. He then swiftly tuns away from me, resting his shoulder against the seat.

I send a seething look towards his back. I have just had trouble entering the bloody vehicle, does he actually expect me know know how to 'buckle up'? In theory I could watching him and inconspicuously copy his action but both his words and his demeanour have intrigued me to such a degree that I feel I must test the boundaries of his patience with me. We are for all incentive purposes still in public, he would be unable to implement any degree of discipline for my inexperience without many muggle eyes watching him. So boldly I open my mouth to speak. “How exactly does one buckle up?”

He turns his head sharply, his forehead ceased in confusion. “What?” Slowly his face unfolds and understand sweeps across his features. “Ohhh.” He stretches out the word to show his comprehension before leaning across my body, throwing each and every one of my muscles ridged. This is the second time he is invaded my personal space to a level that I am not comfortable with and it is beginning to prove difficult to hold my tongue on the matter. “I'm such an idiot sometimes. Sorry.” His fingers grasp a strip of nylon. As he falls back into his seat, it is drawn across my lap and diagonally across my chest, clicking into place on the side of the seat. “There we go.”

He turns back to the wheel in from of him and pushes one of his keys into the column, which supports it. Leaving me to pull the strip of nylon from my chest and note that one end disappears into a covering of plastic. If I pull too vigorously on the strip it locks in place, but when pulled gently the strange black ribbon appears never ending. “What is this in aid of?” After daring myself to further push the boundaries just to see how far they stretch I lift a single eyebrow in question.

“It's a seat belt.” He replies, meeting my eyes as the vehicle rumbles to life. “You know. So if we crash you don't get propelled through the windscreen.”

Both of my eyebrows raise in both shock and fear. A single word ringing through my head with it's implications. “Crash?”

He sniggers, reaching between us to push against the protruding stick once more. This time directing it decisively towards my knee and closer to the front of the automobile. “We're not gonna crash Jamie.” I think he actually assumes that this is a comfort. He pushes downwards on another leaver, the angry rumbling noise from the front pressing against my ears as it speeds up dramatically, just as the whole damned thing moves.

Without thought my arms fly out, one and pressing against the handle I find inside the door, the other reaching down towards my thigh to grip the cushioned seat. Hair stand up along the back of my neck and I feel a single bead of cold sweat slither down between my shoulder blades. With a jolt the vehicle draws to a stop and Dale pulled on the lever between us, on it's ascent it clicks resolutely. “We're hardly even moving Jamie.”

He studies me silently and I keep my eyes forward, not wanting him to see the terror in my eyes. Surly he does not have any intention of crashing, of that I can reassure myself, but there are very few modes of transport which I have ever been close to of which I did not have direct control over. The only true exception is the train, taking me to and from school. At which point there is only a single vehicle upon a single line of track. The risk of any collision is minimal. However this mode of transportation has been designed with the thought of it impacting with its environment in mind.

He lets out a long breath and leans back in his seat. “I didn't mean to scare you.”I feel my jaw clench and I steadfastly refuse to meet his gaze, which I can feel boring into my profile. “I'm a good driver, I've never been in a crash.” Another long breath and he pushes against his dangling keys and the rumbling diminishes, leaving an uneasy silence between us. “Okay. Here's the plan. I'll apparate you back to the house. I'll can come back for the car later.”

Only now do my eyes meet his, I hasten to add without my permission to do so, along with the question that fall unbidden from between my lips. “Why would you do that?”

“Because.” He holds his hand out palm up to indicate my ridged posture. “You're clearly uncomfortable.”

That shouldn't matter, he shouldn't have even been able to notice my discomfort. Something in his manner and the length of time the people who I have surrounded myself with, prodding and pulling at me to open myself to them have thrown me off balance. It with these words that I realise I did not have the adequate time to prepare. To withdraw to such a degree that my fright would not have even registered in my eyes, let alone with the rest of my psychical being. “It's fine.” I say, willing my teeth to unclench. “I'll get used to it.”

A snort of laughter escapes him. “You haven’t changed have you? Always pushing yourself.” He says this more to himself leaning forward to cross his arms over the crest of the wheel in front of him, chewing thoughtfully on the inside of his bottom lip. “I'm not like Dar.” Dale says referring to our father as he would always shorten the title in some way to show his disrespect for the man. “You don't have to do this if you don't want to.”

I find myself in a very interesting position. My brother has indicated that my show of weakness does not displease him. Not even marginally, so the fear of bringing his wrath down upon me disappears almost instantaneously. Only to be replaced with a fierce determination to not allow this experience to beat me. For my own sense of accomplishment, not the praise of anyone else. Very quickly I am feeling at ease around Dale and I cannot deicide if that is a desirable thing or not. “I'm fine.” I say again. Pointing my gaze though the windscreen and feeling my grip on the seat below me tighten so my knuckles turn white.

“You can't travel back all the way like that.” He comments, keeping his eyes on my ridged posture. “It's nearly an hour away.”

On some level he is right, keeping myself in such a heightened state of fright for such a length of time will only tire me and I have no way of knowing what kind of person he may become when we reach the sanctity of his home. I know that on many levels I still fear him but he is the only means that I have at my disposal to quell my terror at the vehicle, while not allowing the experience to overwhelm me. “Do you know how it works?”

“The car?” he asks his eyes glued to my slow, silent nod. “Yeah, intimately.”

Willing my fingers to loosen their grip I let my eyes drag over to my brother’s concerned gaze. “Explain it to me.”

A single, bushy eyebrow lifts in mild surprise. “Knowledge is power?” He says this more to himself than to me, letting his hand curl around his chin and he rubs against the stubble he finds there in thought. “Alright then.” Reaching forward he grabs onto the key turning it and brining the beast of a machine back to life. “This is the ignition...” He pushes against the lever once more and pulls the vehicle from the space. “It sends electrical impulses to the fly wheel to get it spinning...”

-~-

For over an hour I listen to my brother's steady voice, catching the movement both of his hands make out of the corner of my eye, to extenuate his speech. This was fine before he divulged what the bloody wheel in front of him was used for. Every time he lifted a finger off that circle of leather my grip would shoot to the handle to the door and grip so tightly my knuckles would turn white from the stain.

So when we turn down the narrow, winding dirt road to Dale's home I feel that I have a vaguely firm grasp as to how in internal combustion engine functions. The fact that I find it highly inefficient is something that I keep to myself, just content to know what is happening inside the rumbling engine and that it will be highly improbable for it to simply drop to the floor at high speed or, more worryingly explode.

“So that's about it.” Once more his palm leave what he refers to as the steering wheel, to make a very unclear and in my opinion unnecessary gesture. My eyes snap to the offending appendage, that by all rights should be completely concentrated in steering the bulky vehicle down the narrowing path. “If you want I could take one apart, show you what's inside.” His eyes leave the road and I feel all the blood drain from my cheeks, he must catch the look that clouds my features because he takes on a very sheepish expression and quickly apologies, drawing his attention back to the road. He clears his throat as we pull to the edge of the dense tree line and he draws the car to a stop. “Well, here we are.”

My breath catches in my throat at the building he stops before. Where all the way here I had been confronted by never ending red bricks and tarmac. Here stands a work of art, crafted in stone and thatch. Not a single straight line tuns along the outer wall, constructed of shards of stone and mortar. The lines of windows indicated a three story structure but the upper level looks to have been added many years after the foundations were laid, the rough stone jutting out at much more decisive angles, having not received as much weather damage as the other two floors. The thatch roofing topping off the century’s old building and if I had not been seated in such a modern, muggle contraption I could almost believe I had stepped backwards in time.

“What do you think?” He asks, unseen as I have turned my head away from him.

“It's beautiful.” I answer in all honesty.

This is meet a snort of laughter. “You're easily pleased.” the hollow sound that rings through the car tells me he has opened his door and after a sharp click he is standing at the side of the vehicle.

I make to follow him, honestly I do but I appear to have become ensnared in the seatbelt. No matter how hard I tug at the clip that is located at the side of my seat it will not give in to the force. Surly this was designed so one could exit the vehicle when it was appropriate. I had assumed that when the vehicle stopped and the engine was extinguished it would simply fall free. This appears not to be the case.

The door opens close to me and the chill of the air assaults my skin moments before I raise my eyes to meet Dale's twinkling blue gaze. The lines around his eyes crease in an amused smile. “Having a problem?” He asks trying and failing to keep the laughter out of his voice.

Purposefully I turn my gaze away from him, so he is unable to see me narrow my eyes and teeth digging into my lip to bite back a scathing comment that leaps to the tip of my tongue. After audibly grinding my teeth for moment I hold my breath so I can silently draw my mask of impassivity over my face. Turning back to him and keeping my voice level I once more find myself asking for his aid. “How do I get this off me?”

Instead of just explaining the process to me, as I would have preferred, he bends at both the knees and the hip. Pressing his weight on the back of the seat he leans through the tiny space and placing his body much closer to mine than I am comfortable with when I have no means of escape. My back arches and my stomach muscles clench in an desperate attempt to flatten completely against the cushion my back rests against. Even with all of this effort the skin of his bared arm brushes against me and I have to focus my sights over his crouched body and through the windscreen to keep myself from either trembling or lashing out to physically remove him from my personal space.

With an audible click the belt comes free and slides across my chest. Dale take a moment to pat the outside of my tensed thigh and breaths. “There ya go.” Luckily he is quick to remove himself from my side of the vehicle.

“Thank you.” I reply with a scowl, knowing that he will be unable to see it from his vantage point stood next to the open door. Will this confounded closeness never stop? He surly must remember that I am not the most open to psychical contact. Even as a small child, woken by terrifying dreams I could not bear to be touched in the aftermath. Can we have possibly been parted so long that he forgets such things or that he is totally thoughtless to my discomfort?

“Don't mention it.” He says and I know it to be a widely used term but I cannot help but raise my unseen eyebrow at such a futile comment. Why waste your breath forbidding an action that has already taken place?

Quickly I wipe my discontent from my face and after reaching down for my pack pull myself awkwardly from the car. The low seats and strange angle forcing me into a stumble as I make my exit. The smile on Dale's face as he closes the door tells me that he is holding back his amusement but unable to keep it from twinkling in his eyes. “Step this way.” He says once more holding his arm out in an initiation for me to take the lead.

Both of our feel crunch along the gravel path and as we near the entrance to his home. He jogs the last few steps, to slide the key into the lock and open the door so I have no need to even break my stride. In a gesture I would describe as mocking he bows low at the hip as I pass, twisting his arm in an exaggerated manor at his belly.

I always knew my brother could be somewhat a jester but I am uncertain if he is poking fun at my demeanour or if he is simply trying to provoke me into good humour.

Nervously I adjust the strap along my shoulder, steeping over the threshold to enter his domain. He shuts the door and pulls the handle skywards until I hear the lock click into place. When he turns he as a mischievous little smile in place that creases the crows feet beginning to touch the sides of his eyes and his hands are clasped at his chest as he furiously rubs them together in anticipation. “So. This is the most important room in the house.” His hands spread wide in the large pace. “The kitchen.” he needed have pointed such a things out, the AGA dominating most of the far wall near to a free standing stone basin were enough to give away the room's usage.

He steps around the wooden table taking up much of the floor space and puts the flat of his hand against a large white object that I do not believe I have ever seen before. “This is the fridge. Keeps cold stuff cold, you can pretty much take what ever you want out of there.” He gaze snaps up to meet his, pleasantly shocked to my very core at such words. His jittery pose belays his barely hidden excitement and he completely overlooks my sharp glance in his direction. “And that cupboard, is where the snacks live. You can help yourself to whatever you want but those are the two most important places.”

They may only be words. All actions have yet to be made for me to truly believe what he is saying but I cannot stop the sweet, blessed relief at such words. It may be premature to do so but to feel the weight lift from my shoulders in such a way is at the very least a comfort.

He waves vaguely off to his left. “That way's the living room.” His incandescent attitude to that area of the house suggests he must spend a fair portion of his free time elsewhere. “This way.” His voice begins to trail off as his ducks his head under the low door frame and into another section of the house and I have to shake myself out of my stupor and hasten my stride to catch up with him, very narrowly avoiding hitting my head on the door frame for my trouble.

His fingers touch another closed door as he brushes past it. “I call that the library but Rachel insists that we're not posh enough for a library, so calls it the study.” He turns the corner at the steps and clambers up two before reminding himself of something bends low over the banister so he is at eye level with me. With another point he indicates further down the hallway. “That way's the parlour but I don't think I’ve ever used the front door, so it could have fallen down for all I know. Go and investigate if you dare.”

I brave a raised eyebrow in his directions and only receive a small chuckle in reply and he turns on the stairs and once more begins to climb. He completely bypasses the second floor and leads me up another flight of stairs where the architecture and general layout gives a feel of being much more modern. Even the door frames are high enough to accommodate our hight. “And this...” His hand descends on the door handle as he pauses in speech. “Is you're room.” He pushes open the door and steps aside and with a sideways nod of his head indicates that he wants me to enter first.

The plush carpet flattens under my stride and I turn slowly to take in the room, lit only by the dwindling sunlight streaming in from the western facing window. The room is furnished with only the barest essentials. A large double bed pressed up against the side wall, for which I am most happy to note that it will be long enough to accommodate my ample length and I will be able to at the very least lie flat against it. A writing desk on the other side of the room, the wood on it's surface showing no signs of age or wear and a sturdy looking seat upholstered in black leather pushed underneath it. Beyond that there is space, more than enough for me to stretch towards the high ceiling and pace for hours on end should my mood dictate it.

It's only when my teeth snap closed that I realise my mouth is held agape.

“Is the blue okay?” He asks, stepping into the room his hands pushes deep into his back pockets, giving the impression that he feels like he is invading my space even though it rests within his own home.

In honesty I had not even noticed the colour on the walls until he had pointed it out. More concerned with the luxury of enough floor space to be able to stride about the room comfortably. “Yeah, blue's fine.” Try as I may I cannot bring my voice level, instead it has taken on a tone of wonderment that will not be suppressed.

He nods slightly. “We thought about yellow but it just seamed a bit bright and I didn't think you'd appreciate Slytherin Green.”

For a few moments all I can do is blink at him. “You decorated?”

He gives a shrug of indifference. “We don't really come up here. You've got the whole floor to yourself. Just didn't seam right leaving the walls bare.”

“You...” I have to close my mouth and halt any sound from escaping as I feel a sob of relief clamber up my throat. With a swift cough I mange to dislodge it and continue. “You didn't have to do that.”

His grin is so bright it makes the late afternoon natural light still spilling into the room look like a flickering candle set next to the sun. “Yeah, I did. So I’m gonna let you get settled it.” He begins to back out of the room pulling his hands from his pockets and his child like excitement returns. “If you need me I’ll be downstairs or in the barn. Dinner should be around six.” He turns pulling the door closed behind him. “Oh.” He takes a step back across the threshold. “Almost forgot, when it gets dark, just flick this switch for the light.” His fingers touch the white box affixed to the wall and turns the overhead bulb on and off several times before once again retreating. “Welcome home Jamie.” He says so quietly that I am certain he had not meant for me to hear him.

I listen to his soft footsteps all the way down three flights of stairs and track them to where my recent memory tells me he had headed to the kitchen. Keeping my ears trained on his location, more out of habit and the need to be listening to something than actual surveillance I pull out the chair. Which I quickly find is on wheels and sink into it.

I had prepared myself for the worst, for pain and anguish. Now I find myself confronted by what appears to be actual, genuine kindness and I find myself wanting to reciprocate but lack the knowledge of how to go about such a thing. Having said that, if trying to find a way to adequately thank my brother for his generous hospitality is all that I need to be worried about. Things are defiantly starting to look up.

~-~-~

A/N – okay I admit it, I like this one. It may be a little, tincy wincy anticlimactic after the last chapter but Jamie has been though enough lately. I told you she would have a good day and she got one. I kinda want to touch on how she copes with the muggle world, so you may have to stick with this for at least another two chapters. I think. No more than that though. Then it's back off to school which means I have to read the book again. Hmm.

I know I normally send a message to my reviewers but I want to send a big big big thank you out this time. It really lets me know what is working with Jamie as a character 'cause it can be hard to show her coming out of her shell without her noticing it. At least not all of it anyway. And I also want to say a big 'Welcome aboard' to all the new readers that have been following this over the past few days. But I will accept no responsibility for any sleep deprivation caused by the reading of this story. #grins# even though it makes me smile. END A/N
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By The Light