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Amphitrite	By : AndreaLorraine Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 9422 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Exactly
how long is she going to sleep? I got up
nearly an hour ago, moving slowly and carefully so as not to wake her, but I�m
beginning to doubt that anything short of a natural disaster will be enough to
startle her out of her slumber. I�m
almost worried that she�s ill, but she looks perfectly content. She�s on her back, still squished to the left
side of the bed, one arm above her head and the other resting over her
ribs. I can see the outline of her
curves through the sheet; the day has gotten warmer and I didn�t want to stifle
her under the blanket.

I�m
fidgeting. Lord, why am I so
nervous? It�s not like I haven�t done
this before. Although a small voice in
the back of my head whispers that they were prostitutes, and she isn�t. Yes, that�s right, I
didn�t pay for her affections, so far as I know. The details range from fuzzy to nonexistent,
but I am sure that our tumbling into bed together was mutual, at least in our
intoxicated state.

Normally
I�d be grateful that my one-time lover hadn�t awakened at the same time I
did. But for some reason her continued
slumber is making me very, very anxious.
I pick at the food Severus left me.
He�s off assessing some of the artifacts they found yesterday. The food is good, but my nerves and my
overtaxed stomach prevent me from eating more than a quarter of what�s on the
plate.

My
fork freezes in midair as she shifts.
She turns onto her left side, placing her back to me, and curls up a
bit. The sheet slips down off her
shoulder and settles just above her waist.
I swallow heavily; perhaps I should have dressed her. I�ve definitely underestimated the effect of
a woman�s bare, tanned, smooth back on a man that has not bedded anyone in a
while. Not for lack of interest, mind
you, but there were simply more important things for me to be doing.

Her
vertebrae don�t stick out like Narcissa�s did. Instead, there is only a faint, smooth line where
the column of bones rests. Her shoulder
blades are also much less pronounced, moving just so under her skin. This is how a woman should be. Not spindly and sharp-angled, but smooth, her
body a menagerie of soft curves.

I�m
beginning to wonder if Severus slipped me a love potion, as well. Or maybe I�ve just been ignoring my baser
cravings for so long that this not-so-abnormal situation is torturing me with
my own pent-up lust.

I
nearly drop the fork as she shifts again.
This time a low purring noise comes from her throat. Merlin, if all women could make such
sounds! I feel myself go hot and cold at
the same time. She�s turning towards
me. Onto her back again, and then her
left knee bends and her right arm slips under the pillow, turning her body into
my view. And it is quite a view. The sheet is now just below her navel.

I
feel suddenly lecherous, and try to look away.
But where else in this simple cabin is there to look? Her breasts rise and fall with a deep breath,
and � Merlin save me � her eyes flutter open.

She
blinks and her brow creases for a moment; I�m sure she is confused about both
her location and her nudity. Then her
head turns, and her eyes (hazel-green) fix on me.

�Good
morning,� I say. I can think of nothing
else.

�Morning?�
she says mildly, looking faintly amused.
She then proceeds to sit up and twist her torso towards the window, thus
causing the sheet to slither all the way down to her calves. Why on earth did I ever think lack of modesty
was a bad thing?

�Perhaps
not morning,� I amend, determined not to look like a blithering idiot in front
of her.

�Nearly
evening,� she agrees, looking at the position of the sun over the beach.

�Would
you like a hangover relief potion?� I ask, remembering the second vial Severus
left.

�I�ve
never had one before, but if it will get rid of my headache, I won�t turn it
down,� she says, turning her head and giving me a small smile. I nod and move to retrieve it. She�s taking this very well. Too well. It worries me.

�Thank
you,� she says when I hand it to her.
I�m trying my best not to look at her when I remember something else.

�Shit!�
I can�t help exclaiming. She looks up at
me, eyebrows raised. �It�s just�I forgot
a�,� my brain decides to clam up, but I force myself to say it. �A contraceptive potion.�

�It�s
all right,� she says with a wave of her hand.
I momentarily panic, my vision clouding over with black and red
dots. Aughh! She was looking to get pregnant! Why else would she have slept with me? She probably wanted a good-looking man as the
father, and one with lots of money so she could threaten him with lawsuits if
he didn�t pay the necessary fees. I�ve
been used! Even worse, a child out of
wedlock! The good Malfoy name forever
sullied�!

She
must have noticed that I was four seconds away from a nervous breakdown,
because she pulled me down gently onto the bed.
I sat stiffly, still half-shocked and convinced that I was going to have
a bastard son or daughter in nine months.

�Relax,�
she says. �I won�t get pregnant. I�m on the Muggle pill.�

�The what?� I stammer. Three cheers for my
composure and eloquence under pressure.

�The Pill. Haven�t you heard of it?�

I
shake my head dumbly. I feel like I�m
seconds away from a rather nasty myocardial infarction.

�Oh. Well, it�s just a tablet that I take every
day. It prevents me from ovulating, so�no
egg, no pregnancy,� she concludes rather cheerfully. Damned Muggles and
their science!

�You�trust
their methods?� I ask, disbelieving.

�Why
shouldn�t I? It�s 99.9% effective.�

My
heart palpitations return. Shit on a
stick, there�s a 0.1% chance that I could have impregnated her!

�Are
you always this nervous after sex?� she asks, looking amused.

�I�no!�
I sputter. How can she be so
relaxed?! That stupid Muggle pill will
probably do exactly the opposite of what it�s supposed to do and she�ll wind up
pregnant with triplets!!! Augghh! I can
picture the little Anglo-American witchlings and wizardlings with my eyes and her hair crawling all over the
Manor. I resist the urge to bury my face
in my hands and moan.

The
bed shakes slightly, and I look over to see that she�s collapsed onto her back
and is laughing heartily. How can she
laugh? I don�t find this at all amusing. I glare at her, and she settles down a bit.

�You�re
one of those crazy purebloods I�ve read about, aren�t you,� she says. What?!
She�s not a pureblood? Oh no�no no no. My ancestors will forever scorn me for
ruining the Malfoy blood!

She
rolls her eyes at my lack of response.

�I�m
not pregnant, nor will I become pregnant, so you can stop worrying about your
precious bloodline.�

And
with that, she rolls off the bed and walks towards the loo.

It
takes me a minute to realize that I�ve insulted her horribly. I didn�t mean to�oh, Merlin, what an ass I
am! She actually seemed
rather�comfortable with the fact that she�d slept with me, even if it was a
drunken impulse. And now I�ve gone and
made it look like I couldn�t bear the fact that I slept with someone with blood
of less purity than my own. I�m supposed
to be more comfortable with the idea of non-purebloods in my life, but I just
failed colossally to show it. Really, I
was just so caught up with the idea of accidentally begetting more heirs�

This
time, I allow my head to drop into my hands.
There was potential here, and I just destroyed it.

* * * * * *

Snape
had carried her back. Snape had tucked
her into bed as gently as her own mother would have. Ok, so he hadn�t changed her into her
pajamas, but she would rather be awake if he was going to take off her clothes,
anyway�

Where
had that thought come from?

�Miss
Granger?� his low voice startled her out of the thoughts that had been cycling
through her head all morning. �Miss
Granger, are you paying attention?�

�No,�
she said bluntly, shaking her head slightly to clear it. He looked surprised for a moment, but then
gave a small sigh.

�At
least you�re honest. But then, I should
expect nothing less of a Gryffindor.
Should I assume, then, that this lesson is futile?�

�No. I just have a few things on my mind. And can you please call me Hermione?�

�As
you wish�Hermione,� he said. She did not
miss the slight catch in his voice � he would have to get used to calling her
by her given name. She waited
expectantly for him to speak again, but nothing came.

�Well?�
she prompted.

�Well
what?�

�You�re
not going to tell me that I can call you Severus?�

�You
can call me whatever you want, Miss Granger, I am powerless to stop you.�

�Hermione.�

�Hermione,�
he corrected himself.

�Anything
I want, hm?�

�Anything
as long as it is not Greasy Git or Overgrown Bat. I have had quite enough of those
endearments.�

�You
hardly qualify as either anymore.�

�Stop,
you�re making me blush,� he said, completely deadpan. Hermione stifled a giggle as he calmly
continued to coax dirt out of the crevices of the glass dragon with an
instrument that looked, to her, like a dentist�s pick.

�I�m
going to call you Severus,� she finally asserted.

�If
that is what pleases you, Miss Granger.�

�HERMIONE!�

Severus
cringed and put a hand over his right ear.

�Well. Now that I�ve lost thirty percent of my
hearing, I must say in my defense that I have been calling you Miss Granger for
the better part of twenty years. It is
not so simple to change one�s habits.�

�I
have no problem with it, Severus,�
she retorted.

He
gave an exasperated sigh, and then said,

�I
will make an effort, but I�ll not have you screeching in my ear like a harpy
every time I forget.�

�It�s
called negative reinforcement, Severus.
And quit acting like you�re some senile old man. You and I both know you�re the sharpest mind England has produced in a good long time.�

He
gave his standard response � a snort. He
wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake her and tell her that
intelligence and Death Eater did not belong in the same sentence.

By
the tight, thin line his lips pursed into, she could tell that the last
statement had somehow rubbed him the wrong way.
But before she got the chance to extract it from him, the sound of a
door banging open and a rather interesting tidbit of conversation made them
both look towards the row of cabins � the first of which housed Severus and
Lucius.

�Fuck
off, Malfoy! What don�t you
understand?! Do I need to say it in your
native language?! Fine. Fils de putain! Va t�faire enculer
chez les Grecs!�

And
with that, Dawn stormed off towards her own cabin. There was a momentary silence, and then the
door, most likely propelled by a spell, slammed with a loud crack.

�That
did not look promising.�

Hermione
shook her head in agreement. She knew a
little French, but hadn�t understood anything Dawn had said.

�Did
you get anything she said?� she asked, turning her head to look at her
companion.

�The
first part was �son of a bitch�, I think,� Snape answered. �He must like her. I�ve seen him hex people�s limbs off for
insulting his mother.�

�I
wouldn�t expect that from him. I�ve
heard that he killed his parents.�

�It�s
not true. Not entirely.�

She
glanced at him; he seemed disinclined to elaborate, but damned if she�d settle
for less than the truth.

�Suffice
to say, Miss Gr�Hermione, his father was not a good
man. Rather fond of beating him and his
brother senseless. That�s why he�s so
good at healing � the Malfoy heir couldn�t very well go out in public with two
black eyes and a split lip. His mother
was a kind woman; she did what she could for them, but Malfoy Sr. was the king
of his castle.�

�How
terrible...�

�Indeed.�

�He
has a brother?�

�Had. Long dead now.�

�That�s
awful.�

�Such
were the times.�

�That
doesn�t disprove anything.�

�His
father killed his mother. She was � how
did he phrase it � �too soft on the boys�.
Of course he made it look like an accident, but Lucius knew.�

�How
do you know all this?�

�When
I was�in St. Mungo�s, he visited me quite a bit. He would speak to me for hours on end,
sometimes. I�couldn�t physically respond, I was still too far away.
But I heard everything.�

�Then�his father?�

�He
did kill his father, the very same night he took the Mark. Replaced him within the Inner Circle. Not so much
for ambition as for revenge.�

�I�I
can�t imagine��

�Be
glad, Miss Granger, that you�ll never have to.�

There
was a silence that weighed heavily on both of them. It was impossible to ignore how his voice had
gone flat and cold when he spoke of St. Mungo�s. There were still some deep, festering wounds
within him, that much was obvious. She
didn�t want to disturb them; the man had seen and experienced so much pain
already. But sometimes the only cure for
a contaminated wound was to tear it open and let the infection drain out. But not yet�not yet. She couldn�t claim to know him, but she was
sure that if she started probing, he�d snap shut like an alligator�s jaws. And then he�d push her away and plunge
himself into his work, and any and all chances for them to become something more
than an odd pair of bookworms would be dashed.

Instead
of asking herself exactly what she really wanted of Snape, she posed a rather
harmless question.

�I
wonder what he did to get her so angry.�

�Probably said something stupid and bigoted.�

�Yes,
he�s good at that.�

�Alarmingly proficient.�

And
then the conversation lulled once again.
He returned to his work on the dragon, and she picked up the crusted
vessel that had been designated as hers.
She couldn�t yet see what it was in the shape of; it was much dirtier
and had a great deal of sediment built up on its surfaces. She began to clean it as he and her
University professor had taught her, with the picks and awls and brushes.

She
didn�t notice when he stopped his work, setting it in his lap to watch
her. She didn�t notice anything but the
fragile lines of the artifact, at least not until he spoke again.

�I�m
going to check on him.�

�Hm? Oh. Lucius.�

�Yes.�

�Don�t
let him hex you.�

�I�ve
my wand at the ready,� he replied, an amused smirk gracing his face as he
hauled himself to his feet.

�I
can try to talk to Dawn, if he�d like.�

�I�ll
ask him, although perhaps tomorrow when he cools down.�

Hermione
nodded and returned her attention to the challenge in front of her. However, as she resumed her work, she felt
his presence looming over her. She
didn�t pause, though; she was not afraid of his scrutiny, not anymore. And after a few long moments, he murmured, �Excellent
technique, Miss Granger.� And then he
turned and strode away.

She
thought it exceptionally strange that there were no voluminous black robes
billowing behind him. And, as she
watched him knock carefully on the door of his cabin and then disappear inside,
she whispered,

�Hermione.�

* * * * * *

He expected Lucius to be angry. He expected the blond man to be fuming, not
just from the rejection (you rejected Lucius Malfoy at your own risk � he was
not good at taking no for an answer), but also from the fact that Dawn was
obviously not a pureblood and she�d insulted his mother, to boot.

That was not what he found.

Lucius was sitting on the floor, propped against the side
of the bed. One leg was bent and the
other straight out, and he cradled his forehead with one hand. Oh sweet Jesus. He looked frighteningly close to some sort of
breakdown. Severus was not good with
these sorts of things; he was always on the end that was being comforted, never
the comforter himself. He didn�t know
what to do or say. In all likelihood
he�d just make it worse. But�he had to
try, right? Lucius had been there for
him like some sort of twisted guardian angel these last few years. He was bound to have to reciprocate once in a
while.

�All right, then?� he said softly, lowering himself down
onto the floor across from his pale-haired friend.

�Why do I always do
that, Severus?�

�Do what?�

�Ruin possibilities.�

Severus�s eyebrows nearly lost
themselves in his hairline. Possibilities? This did not sound like Lucius at all. Lucius, the champion of
one-night stands, the master of friendless fucking, the very spirit of
forty-three year old bachelorhood?
He had been under the impression that Lucius liked things the way they
were. Apparently not.

�That woman? A possibility?� he asked, careful to keep the
surprise and slight disdain out of his voice.

�I know it sounds crazy, but�I�m so attracted to her!�

�That is not grounds for a serious relationship.�

�No, but Merlin�s balls, it�s something to go on.�

�You said to me three days ago that you thought she was
loud, obnoxious, and distinctly unrefined.�

�She is.�

Severus spread his hands, as if to say �There you have
it.� But Lucius shook his head.

�That�s exactly the point, Severus.�

�I�m not following.�

�Severus�there aren�t many people out there who aren�t
afraid of me.�

�Me either.�

�How many people do you think would stand up to me like
that?�

�Not many. What
did she call you, anyway?�

�Oh. She told me
to go get fucked up the ass by the Greeks.�

�Creative. And very plausible, given our location.�

�I suppose. But do
you see what I mean?�

�In a way.�

Lucius didn�t respond, which left Severus to really think
about what had been said. The other man
did have a point; very often women were so spineless and pliant towards him
that it was mind-numbingly boring to do anything with them other than have
sex. The sex was good but
impersonal. There were limits to the
level of fulfillment one could achieve when the person you were sleeping with
bored you to tears most of the time.

He�d had a brief fling with an intriguing Muggle woman
when he�d gone home to Russia. He had to
admit it had been very, very nice to be with someone who had no idea what his
past consisted of and thought the Dark Mark was some kind of esoteric
tattoo. She had been undeniably feisty, and also quite intelligent � they had discussed
Plato, argued fiercely over Machiavelli and Nietzsche, and forayed into topics
that only someone with a very strong background in science could hope to
understand. Being with her, regardless
of however short-lived the tempestuous relationship was, had made him feel
young and worthwhile. And while he was
truly neither, it had been just what he needed.

�Well, if you really want to pursue her--�

�Oh yes, Eros, do bestow your divine knowledge of love
upon me.�

�You�re not exactly a master of it yourself, you know.�

Lucius snorted, crossing his arms sullenly.

�I was only going to say that you might have to sacrifice
your dignity. She doesn�t seem the type
to fall back into your arms just because of your good looks.� Severus tried to keep the sarcasm out of his
tone, but didn�t succeed very well.
Lucius shot him an unappreciative look, but quickly relapsed into his
morose expression.

�I�ve more work to do,� Severus said, hauling himself to
his feet. �I interrupted a lesson with
Miss Granger.�

Lucius seemed to perk up slightly for some reason.

�You know, Severus, she�s not a little girl anymore. Maybe you should call her by her first name.�

�I should, but it is difficult to break the habit of
calling her by her surname.�

�Perhaps you should try harder.�

�What does it matter to you, anyway?� Severus said,
frowning.

�Forget it, just leave me to my
brooding.�

�If you insist,� the dark-haired man shrugged, turning to
leave. He was halfway out the door when
Lucius spoke again.

�Oh! Severus, I
forgot to tell you. Draco is visiting in
a week or so.�

Severus Snape sighed audibly.

�Heaven
help us.�

And
when he turned to give Lucius one last glance, the blond man was smiling.

* * * * * *

Early
that evening, Hermione dared to knock on the door of Dawn�s cabin. She answered quickly, pulling the door open
rather savagely. Uh oh�still angry. But a moment later her steely expression
melted into one of exhausted resignation.

�It�s
just you, Hermione. Sorry. Come in.�

�How
are you feeling?� Hermione asked timidly, following the other witch to a set of
very comfortable looking chairs.

�From the booze? Fine. Had some hangover
concoction.�

�Ah,
yes, Severus�s potions are amazing.�

�Severus? The tall, dark-haired guy?�

�Yes.�

�Hm. I guess you
have to be special to call him by his first name, because he told us to just
call him Snape. You and that
blond-haired dipshit are the only ones that address
him as anything else.� Dawn glanced over
at her company, and finding a cryptic look on her face, attempted to
apologize. �I mean, I�m sorry if you
like that asswipe��

�No,
no, don�t worry about it. I actually
don�t like him at all.�

�Did
he try to seduce you?�

�No. He tried to kill some of my friends.�

Dawn�s
eyes widened, but that was her only reaction.
The war hadn�t just been waged on European soil; American factions of
Death Eaters had existed, and they had no trouble making themselves known. And as America had a much smaller wizarding
population than Europe, or even just Britain alone, the battles had been much bloodier � and much
more personal � than they had been across the ocean. She�d seen good men die � and kill
mercilessly. It was a funny thing about
war; it could either bring out the best in a man, or the worst, and the line
between them was very, very thin.

�What�s
his story, then?� she found herself asking, curious about Lucius in spite of
her anger towards him.

�Well,
he�s a pureblood, one of the oldest wizarding
families in the world. He was an
advocate of�purification, if you know what I mean. He was one of the worst of Voldemort�s minions.�

�Then
why is he not in prison?�

�Well,
Voldemort decided he wanted to use his son for a
sacrifice, and he wasn�t too happy about it.
He defected and came to our side.
He helped us destroy Voldemort.�

�Is
he really on our side, though? Or is it
just a matter of what benefits him the most?�

�I�I
don�t know. I don�t trust him, but I
think he�s changed.�

�How
can you tell?�

�He
used to call me mudblood.�

Dawn�s
face bloomed with horror; mudblood was just as bad a
curse in America as it was in Britain.

�Used to?�

�He
doesn�t anymore. I don�t feel like he
looks down on me as much. I think he�s
made a real effort to change. So
whatever he said to you��

�I
may have overreacted, but it still doesn�t excuse his behavior.�

�I�m
sure you�re right.�

They
sat in a not entirely comfortable silence, avoiding each other�s eyes. Hermione could not help but feel overwhelmed
by Dawn�s mannerisms; she had a very strong personality, and Hermione couldn�t
read her at all. People like that tended
to make her uneasy.

�The hell with it. Let�s go
shopping.�

�What?�
was all Hermione could manage.

�Shopping
always makes me feel better, and I can definitely use some new clothes. And besides, my sister used to say I was a
spoiled little bitch. I might as well
live up to the slander.�

�Um�ah�all
right,� Hermione agreed. She wasn�t
usually one to find solace in shopping � that�s what books were for � but it
couldn�t hurt her. That,
and it would help her get closer to Dawn.

�Do
you want to change or anything?�

�No,
I think I�m fine like this.�

�Want
to grab a bag?�

�Oh,
that might be a good idea. I�ll be right
back.�

And
so the two women set out for a night of shopping. Unfortunately, Hermione didn�t think to ask
exactly what kind of shopping they were about to embark on until they were
approaching the boutiques.

* * * * * *

�You
cannot be serious.�

�Why not?
They�re nice.�

�I
might as well not wear any underwear at all!� Hermione cried,
ignoring the pair of purple lace crotchless panties
Dawn was holding out to her.

�Sweetie,
white cotton panties are ok up until the age of sixteen, but after that you
need a little variety!�

�I
don�t want variety!�

�Oh
come on, you�re not as sweet and innocent as you pretend to be. Stop being such a schoolgirl. Unless that�s what Snape likes��

�WHAT?!�

�You
two are practically joined at the hip. I
noticed when you two snuck off last night.�

�We
didn�t do anything!�

�Suuuure you didn�t.�

�There�s
nothing between us! We�re just friends!�
Hermione sputtered, turning redder than the thong hanging on the rack next to
them.

�Right, and your red-faced, panicky denial is sure to
convince me of that.�

�I�m
serious!� Hermione almost
screamed. �He was my Professor once, you
know! That would just be weird!�

�Your professor?! NO WONDER YOU
WEAR SCHOOLGIRL UNDERWEAR! IT�S PERFECT!�

�I
AM NOT SLEEPING WITH HIM!�

�I
BET YOU WERE SCREWING HIM BEFORE YOU EVEN GRADUATED, YOU DIRTY LITTLE BITCH!�
Dawn shot back gleefully. Hermione had
quickly learned that when the American used profanity, she didn�t mean it in a
malicious way, but this was just too much!

�I
WAS NOT! I�M NOT LIKE THAT! HE�S
NOT LIKE THAT!�

�IT�S
ALWAYS THE QUIET ONES!�

�LADIES!�
a third voice interrupted them. They
both turned to look at whoever had jumped in, and found themselves staring at a
somewhat irate salesperson.

�Yes?�
Dawn asked, as if nothing was amiss.
Hermione could only stare at her with her mouth hanging open; she acted
as if they hadn�t just been having a
perfectly ridiculous shouting match in the middle of a lingerie store.

�If
you would kindly bring your purchases
to the register and exit the store,�
the salesman said in clipped, angry tones.

Dawn�s
hands went to her hips and all of a sudden she seemed to ooze attitude. She dropped the lacy item of debate back onto
the display, turned her nose up, and said,

�We
didn�t see anything we liked anyway.�

And
with that, she grabbed Hermione by the wrist and pulled her out of the
boutique.

�What�I
can�t believe you�!� she stammered when they were back out in the cool night
air.

�Are
you hungry?� was all Dawn said.

�I�you�yes,�
she said, giving up all hope of ever understanding the other woman.

�Good,
there�s a nice little bistro a few blocks down.�

They
walked in silence for a few minutes, and then Hermione felt the need to speak
again.

�I
swear there�s really nothing between Severus and I but friendship.�

Dawn
shrugged but waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
She looked like she was about to say something, but a loud sound
interrupted her.

�What
is that?� Hermione asked, looking confused.

�It
sounds like a cell phone. Is it yours?�

Hermione
frowned and lifted her bag to her ear.
It was her phone. Who on earth would be calling her now? She pulled the shrilling phone out of the bag
and looked at the display in confusion; she didn�t recognize the number. She flipped the device open, put it to her
ear, and spoke hesitantly.

�Hello?�

�Hermione? I can�t believe I got you! It�s Anatole.�

Redone � I�m not a native
speaker of Russian, I�m just going on what little of
it I learned in order to be able to communicate with a friend of mine�s parents
and housekeeper. I could be wrong ::shrugs::
Either that or it could be a case of me spelling it incorrectly � I
spelled it phonetically, based on how I learned to say it, but that doesn�t
mean it�s right, lol.
And if it�s neither of those, well, maybe I should stick to languages I
actually sort of know. In any case, I
took it out. I don�t want to
misrepresent ;)

Fleur � Thanks for the
correction. I did take French for 5
years, although I only had a decent teacher for 3 of them. I tend to mix up grammar points like that
one. In fact, when dealing with French,
I go more by the sound of it than the rules (because, to be honest, I forgot
half of them, lol).
Usually I know what looks and sounds right in a sentence, but sometimes
it backfires on me. I guess it�s like
any other language � they all have their quirks. If you email me (Lunachik7@att.net) perhaps you can help me
with whatever Francais I might write into the story
in the future ^_^

Azure, Luna Writer � The
last sentence was �It�s not that complicated.
We need love.�

Minerva of Tortall � Thanks for the review,
and yay for NJ!
I�m from NJ too, but I go to school in PA, and I get so tired of the Jersey bashing! New Jersey is so far from being the �Armpit of the Nation� as
some people (who have never been there) seem to think. It�s the best kept secret in the USA. What part of
Jersey are you from?
I�m from central, near the shore.
IM me sometime, my sn
is in my profile.

Everyone else � thanks for
your reviews! Hope this chapter amuses
you.
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