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Author: Musings Story: The New Professor Rating: Teens Setting: AU Status: WIP Reviews: 4 Words: 160,238
Moments later, Ginny Apparated in front of the Three Broomsticks. She turned as she heard two soft pops behind her; Fred and Christopher appeared a few feet behind her. As soon as she got her bearings, she marched towards the front door of the pub in a ground-eating stride, leaving the others struggling to catch up. As she threw the door open, the scene before her stopped any words she may have planned to use from coming forth. The room was a shambles. There were broken butterbeer bottles all over the floor, and the rustic tables and chairs that helped to give the pub its charm were tossed from one side of the room to the other. There were several wizards wearing the deep blue robes of the MLES, milling around and snapping wizarding photos of the damage. Several officers had a group of people off to the side of the room in an effort to keep them clear of the debris. One of the officers was speaking to an elderly couple over in a corner, occasionally sending ribbons of silver material into what appeared to be a small, bubble-shaped Pensieve. Seated at opposite ends of the bar were Ron and Harry, each of them looking as though they had been through the tortures of the damned. Both men were covered with scrapes and bruises of every size, shape and color. Harry was leaning against the bar, one arm cradling his ribcage, his shirt covered with blood. His eyes were ringed with black and his nose appeared to be lopsided. Ginny could tell right away that it was broken. At the other end of the bar, Ron had an ice bag pressed against his jaw while a trickle of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. Blood covered his shirt as well. Ginny winced; he had a broken jaw AND a broken nose. He was sitting gingerly atop a bar stool, with one swollen and bloodied hand resting against his groin. Ginny glanced over at Madam Rosmerta, clad in a violet dressing gown, her head an explosion of rag-wrapped, ebony tresses. She was walking back and forth between the two of them, a stream of profanity surging from her mouth. "IN ALL MY YEARS AS PROPRIETRESS OF THIS ESTABLISHMENT, I HAVE NEVER SEEN TWO MEN ACT MORE LIKE A COUPLE OF BLOODY BABOONS THAN THE LIKES OF YOU!" She stalked over to Ron and gave him a wallop on one side of his head. "Hey!" he moaned disjointedly, cradling his jaw, "leave off, woman!" Madam Rosmerta turned and stalked over to Harry's side of the bar and whacked him upside his head. Harry grabbed his head with his hands and doubling over in agony. "Piss off, you deranged Hydra!" he moaned, turning even paler than before. Madam Rosmerta's cheeks flared an angry red. "You deserve that and more, Mr. Potter," she said, taking her wand out of her pocket and shouting Cleaning charms from one side of the room to the other. Within moments, chairs and tables began whirling about in a mad dance to right themselves. Ginny turned to see Fred staring at Ron and Harry in admiration. She stomped her foot. "Will you get that ridiculous grin off your face and help Madam Rosmerta, you twit?" she said, promptly jabbing Fred in the ribs with her wand. "Oi, Ginny! That's enough of that," said Fred, rubbing his ribs and frowning. He did, however, move from his spot in front of the door and walked over to Madam Rosmerta side to assist her. Ginny walked over to Ron, who eyed her approach with the look of a man doomed for the gallows. "What in the name of all that is holy is the meaning of this, Ronald?" she said in a low, threatening tone, her wand shaking in her fist. Ron swallowed. Ginny could only remember one time when she had ever been this angry with Ron and the results had taken three days to rectify themselves. "You'd better decide to tell me now, Ronald Weasley," she continued in a quiet, sinister voice, "unless you would like to spend the next several days covered in Murtlap-soaked bandages like you did the last time you managed to piss me off this badly." Ron flinched. "Gin, I only came over to speak with him…" he said, holding one hand up as if to ward off evil. "Speak with him? SPEAK with him?!" she bellowed. "With what, a sledgehammer?" Ron winced. "I suppose you decided to come over here and 'discuss' his meeting with your wife this morning." She paused, turning her gaze from Ron to Harry. "And one thing led to another, until –" "THE PAIR OF YOU DECIDED TO DO YOUR BEST TO KILL ONE ANOTHER!" another voice roared from the doorway. Everyone turned to see Hermione, standing like a Valkyrie on the threshold of the pub, her eyes blazing with fury. Ron's eyes widened as she approached him as George peered around the room, wincing at the remaining wreckage and at the extent of Harry and Ron's injuries. "Well," he said to the room at large, "if Ron doesn't have any broken bones now, he will in a minute." Ron threw an obscene gesture over at his brother, who shook his head and headed over to where Fred and Madam Rosmerta stood, working out a particularly difficult charm to repair the chandelier. Ginny looked over at Hermione, and started muttering rapid-fire Healing charms over Ron's broken face. "The only reason I'm doing this now is because I'm worried about your unborn child, you idiot," she said, poking him in the side of the nose to see if she'd numbed the pain. He would require a good deal more work over the next several days, but at least he was capable of having a conversation if need be. "Drink this," she said, thrusting a small bottle at him, "and come with me." They walked over to Hermione, who'd settled into a seat near the hearth. Directing a warning glare at Ron, she turned a softer gaze upon her sister-in-law. "Hermione, please don't strain yourself. Think about the baby." Ron frantically nodded his head in agreement. "Gin's right, love," Ron said, a pleading look crossing his face, "this can't be good for the baby." Hermione rounded on him, rising to her feet and brandishing her wand. "A fine time to think about your wife and child, you insufferable prat," she said, whacking him on the arm with her wand. "Can you imagine my shock and horror when Sirius' head burst through the fire, to tell me I needed to get over to Hogsmeade before you got yourself FIRED? Thank Merlin George Flooed over to get me, since you KNOW I can't fly that-ridiculous-car!" With each word, Hermione pummeled Ron's arm with her wand. "'Mione-love, please," Ron yelped, shielding his face from the red sparks that flew from her wand tip. "Don't you 'Mione-love' me," she said, eyes flashing. Ginny came up to take Hermione's arm. "Hermione, please, have a seat over here," Ginny said, muttering a Padding charm on the worn bench. "Is Matthew OK?" Hermione, trembling with anger, took a deep breath and sighed. "Molly was over helping me with the quilt I'm making for the bassinet when George arrived. She said she would stay with him while I came over." She sank onto the bench, dropping her wand onto the table and rubbing her eyes. "This is all my fault, you know." Ginny smiled ruefully. "Too right it is," she said, nudging a napkin over to her sister-in-law. At Hermione's look of shock, she snorted. "Look who else is here." She pointed in the direction of the doorway and, standing to the side and surveying the scene through shocked eyes stood Christopher. "We were having a little chat about my relationship with Harry when we got the news." Hermione's head dropped onto the table. "Oh god," she said miserably. Ginny rubbed her back. "Never you mind," she said, Summoning over a pitcher of water and a glass. "We'll take care of things. You stay here and remember: do not upset the baby." Hermione wobbled her head, still cradled in her arms, in a drunken 'yes', while Ginny rose to walk over to Christopher. He watched her as she approached him, his eyes registering both concern and confusion. "Christopher, I'm sorry, but I can't stand here and see both of them in this much pain," Ginny said, her eyes willing him to understand. "I understand, Ginny," he said, rubbing his forehead wearily. "I'll give Madam Rosmerta and the twins a hand with the tidying up before I escort you home." "That will be perfect. Thank you, Christopher. For everything." He nodded, then proceeded to drag her against his chest and kiss the living daylights out of her. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Harry slowly rose to his feet, staring. Who was this huge, Nordic he-man snogging the hell out of Ginny Weasley? His eyebrows came together in a frown, resulting in sheets of white-hot agony screaming through his face. Nauseated, he wobbled back onto his barstool, vowing that as soon as he was healed he would do two things: flay Ron Weasley within an inch of his life for the second face-caving punch he had the misfortune of receiving during their lifetimes; and hunt down whoever that man was slavering all over his Ginny, and practice a few face-caving punches himself. He thought back on the past hour, during which time he'd gone from quietly packing his belongings to being beaten senseless to towering jealousy. He lifted a finger to gingerly touch his aching nose, only to feel – Merlin help him – faint. Taking a deep breath, he looked over at Ron. He would have smirked if his face hadn't hurt so badly. At least this time he'd been able to get in a few good shots of his own. His present state only made the memory of his prior encounter with Ron nine years before that much more vivid. Stumbling away from the Burrow, tears of pain and loss streaming from his eyes. His legs still moving, though he didn't know how. Reaching Stoatshead Hill and collapsing. Vomiting what was left in his stomach, the world fading into darkness. Awaking hours later, shivering and filthy, the ache in his jaw nearly forgotten as he recognized the enormity of what he had done: he had severed ties with the only family that had ever cared for him. The only woman he could ever consider a mother in Mrs. Weasley. Then, sickeningly, Ginny's face swam before his eyes: the only woman he had ever loved more than his own life. Somehow, he had managed to Apparate to The Range, Sirius' cottage in Godric's Hollow, and had pounded on the door until his godfather had appeared, horrified by the sight. Refraining from asking the questions that burned the tips of their tongues, Sirius and Remus had taken him to St. Mungo's for treatment. He'd convalesced at the Range for two weeks following his hospitalization. His first two days back had been filled with silence. On the third day, Sirius had finally had enough and insisted Harry tell him what happened. When he'd finished, Sirius had suggested Harry attempt to make amends to the Weasleys. The ferocity of Harry's expression had brought any further discussions regarding reconciliations to a halt. Harry had spent the rest of July in isolation, a state in which he'd was content to linger until he'd received a letter from Professor McGonagall. Dear Mr. Potter, Please find enclosed your NEWT scores for your review. As you can see, you have scored exceptionally well in all of your chosen coursework, in particular Dark Arts and Astronomy. Your scores will grant you the opportunity to work in any field you wish to embark on within our world, although it is my understanding that you have severed your ties with us. I was greatly saddened to hear about the incident at The Burrow and your decision, Harry. I realize that you may believe this is the best course for you to take and I will not waste either of our time in an effort to dissuade you from it. I send you this letter to extend an offer to you. I have taken the liberties of contacting Ephram Williamson in the Department of Muggle Relations office to develop a set of Muggle transcripts for you. You will find these in the sealed envelope enclosed along with this letter. It is my hope that you will not stew over your current circumstances long and that you might consider continuing your studies at a Muggle college or university. If you choose to do this, please contact me by return owl with the name of the school you wish to attend and I will do everything within my power to assist you in your endeavors. You are a remarkable young man, Harry. Our world (both Wizard and Muggle) is a better place with you in it. Please let me know if there is anything I can do to assist you. I remain, Yours Sincerely Minerva McGonagall Headmistress Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry ~*~ Harry felt someone prodding his side, bringing him out of his musings. It was Ginny, staring up at him, her cloak discarded, revealing a forest-green evening robe. Her hair was a mass of curls falling around her shoulders, a pair of lovely green-stone earrings dangling from her lobes. Must have interrupted a DATE, Harry thought, glowering to himself. "Harry, let me have a look at you," Ginny said, placing one hand on his arm and removing her wand from her pocket with the other, frowning up at his nose. "Gin, you don't have to," Harry said tersely. "It's broken, I can feel it, so a trip to St. Mungo's will do the trick." "I work at St. Mungo's, so I can save you that trip for tonight," she said sternly. Harry tried another tactic. "Wouldn't want Ron to get the wrong idea, though," he said, shooting a glance at Ron, who was sitting in silence next to Hermione. "I've had just about enough from him in the way of broken bones." "Sod him, the stupid git," Ginny said, glaring at her brother, then turning to whisper a Revealing charm as she moved her wand around Harry's wounded face. "I can fix it," she said, nodding, "but I'll leave that decision up to you. I'm worried about Hermione, though, so why don't you think about it while I check on her and you can let me know if you want me to take care of it for you." She flicked a glance at him, and he was uncertain what he saw in her eyes. "In the meantime, Abiego Doleo!" With one flick of her wand, the pain vanished, leaving Harry blinking his eyes and relaxing his shoulders. When had they gotten so tight? "Thanks, Gin," he stammered as she turned her back to him and walked over to Hermione. Just then, the door of the pub crashed open and in walked Sirius Black, dark hair tied back sharply with a piece of black ribbon, eyes were a study in carefully banked fury. Harry watched as Sirius cast his gaze around the still-disheveled room, coming to rest on Harry's face. He closed his eyes, bracing himself for Sirius' roar, and was surprised when it didn't come. He snapped open one eye to see Sirius heading over to where Ron was sitting. Harry now allowed a smile to cross his face: Ron was going to wish he were on another planet. "WEASLEY!" roared Sirius, flinging his cloak onto a bench and crossing his arms, wand clenched in his right fist. "Explain!" Harry watched as Ron, rising to his feet with some difficulty, stood at attention in front of his boss. Before he could say anything, however, Sirius extracted a glass ball containing green smoke from his pocket and muttered "Wingardium Leviosa!" over its top. The glass ball hovered in place between Ron and Sirius. "I have here," Sirius began softly, "a report which arrived at my home via owl twenty minutes ago." He stopped, arching an inky black brow at Ron. "Shall I share it with you?" "Y-yes, sir," Ron stammered, concern clearly etched onto his face. "It begins with a report from Mrs. Heath McGruder, guest of Room 1 here at the Three Broomsticks. She and her husband were settling in for the evening when they heard a crash from the room next door. Room number…" Sirius looked at his notes, "two, which had been let to Harry Potter. The report reads as follows." He tapped the ball with his wand, at which point the green smoke turned silvery gray. The top of the ball opened and the wavery voice of an elderly woman filled the room: "Initially, we thought it was one of the inn's ghouls. The clashing and thrashing was extreme. My husband stuck his head out the door just in time to see a large, red-haired man crash through the door of No. 2, doubled over and clearly in pain. A slightly smaller, black-haired man came through the doorway, his shirt covered in blood and something I've never seen before: an aura shining brilliant white around his body. The red-haired man let out a roar. I believe he said something like, 'Keep your bloody hands off my wife and sister!' but that couldn't be. I mean, that would be illegal…married to your sister? Anyway, the red-haired man shoved the black-haired man down the stairs to the main area of the pub below. Well, we felt it our civic duty to make sure we could accurately report the goings on so we left our room to follow them. Merlin's beard, the obscenities coming from both of their mouths. And you would think two wizards would duel with their wands. No, these two were going after one another with their fists, their teeth, their feet. It was like watching one of those Muggle wrestling shows you see on "Those Amazing Muggles" on the WBC Saturday nights. Tables were flung from one side of the room to the other. A barstool sailed right out of the window next to my dear husband and nearly gave both of us a heart attack. My stars…the mayhem was frightening. Poor Madam Rosmerta was in a right state, swinging something that looked like a Beater's bat and yelling fit-to-burst. People screaming, these two throwing punch after punch, until the black-haired one raised his hand, pointed it in the direction of the red-haired one and said "Petrificus Totalis!". Heath?…Heath? Do you remember seeing a wand at all? Oh, never mind. Anyhow, when the black-haired one shouted the spell, the red-haired one flew over into the bar. My stars, the crash he made when he landed. He was huge. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I tell you. Finally, the black-haired one fell in a heap onto the floor. Well, I told my Heath he needed to call the MLES right away. I've never seen anything like it in my life." Sirius tapped the glass ball, the smoke returning to its original shade of green and – waving his wand – motioned it down onto the bar. Harry wished the earth would swallow him up whole. He hazarded a glance at Ron and was somewhat pleased to see him looking slightly nauseated. "Now," Sirius said, resuming his pacing in front of Ron, "Based on the description of the two parties involved, I had a very good idea it had something to do with you and Harry. However, I happened to know that Harry decided not to disclose his location to anyone other than Remus and me." He paused, slowly rolling his wand back and forth between the fingers of his right hand. "So, I had to ask myself how on earth you, Ron, happened to find out where he was staying?" He withdrew a second glass ball from his pocket, this one with swirling orange smoke. Tapping the ball with his wand, the ball levitated between Ron and him. The smoke turned silver gray and a slightly girlish voice issued forth. Harry saw Ron's face turn white. "Statement of Doris Blankenship, Secretary, MLES Headquarters. At approximately 1700 hours this evening, Captain Ronald Weasley came to my desk requesting the use of the Locator Quill to assist him in finding Kingsley Shacklebolt…" Sirius snapped the glass ball shut. "When we audited the quill for its last recorded use, Captain Weasley, imagine our surprise when Harry's location appeared on the parchment." Ron swallowed visibly and he turned to look at Hermione, whose head was cradled in her hands. Harry's amusement at Ron's misfortune was quickly being replaced with dread. Any satisfaction he may have had pounding Ron into a pulp was gone as the ramifications of their actions became clear. Sirius walked up and stood within inches of Ron, a study in barely-contained fury. "Captain Weasley, you could be facing charges of Assault, Destruction of Private Property, and Unauthorized Use of MLES Property. Consider yourself suspended with pay pending a disciplinary hearing to be scheduled within the next seven days." Ron flinched as though being punched in the stomach. Harry thought he could see a tinge of sadness in Sirius' eyes. "It is because you've been a friend to me for so many years that I have not fired you outright, Ron. Please take these next several days to reflect on what has happened here tonight." He cleared his throat and stepped back, looking from Hermione to Ron, pinning him to the spot. "I'll expect you in my office at 0800 hours in seven days' time, understood?" "Y-yes, sir," Ron said hoarsely. Harry watched as Sirius touched Hermione on her shoulder, whispering something into her ear. Her face pale, Harry saw her nod slightly and rise to her feet, Ginny standing close to her side. "Ron," Hermione said, "Let's go home." She turned and looked at Harry, tears in her eyes. Harry rose to his feet. "Sirius," he said, bringing his godfather to a halt before he reached the door. "I wish to formally decline pressing assault charges, and am willing to pay for the damage to the pub, if that will satisfy Madam Rosmerta." He watched as she paused then nodded. "If I am reimbursed for the damages to my establishment and given their word that they will never resort to fisticuffs here in future, I will decline pressing destruction of property charges, Secretary Black," Madam Rosmerta said, her eyes still roaming over the remaining damage to her pub. "Mr. Potter," she said, drawing Harry's attention back to her face. He vaguely remembered calling her a rather unflattering name and was struggling to come up with a way to make amends when he heard her say, "I will expect you to pay for your room in full and leave the premises immediately." Ice filled his chest. "Harry, you can come to The Range for the night," Sirius said firmly. "The wards are set to you, so feel free to settle your affairs here and come when you're ready." "Thank you, Sirius," he said dully. He raised his eyes to Ron, who was glaring at him over Hermione's head. "I insist on paying for half the cost of the damage, Potter," Ron spat, his voice sounding slightly slurred due to his massively-swollen bottom lip. "We don't take handouts in this family." "RON," Hermione said, horrified. "Let's go. NOW." She shoved him towards the door, turning to face Harry, a silent apology in her eyes. Harry nodded, sending her a gentle smile as she turned and followed Ron out of the door. He felt a hand at his elbow and turned to find Ginny standing in front of him, her eyes reddened. "Gin," Harry said, "Gin, I'm so sorry." He touched the hand she had placed on his arm. "I swear I didn't mean to hurt him and I certainly didn't mean to land him in all of this trouble." I know, Harry," she said, defeated, "I know. I'll go and check on him at home in a little while." He nodded, feeling miserable about the events of that evening. "Please, let me take care of your nose for you." She raised her wand and whispered a Healing Charm over his battered face and removed a small flask from her bag. "Some Skele-Gro," she said, a small smile creasing her face. Harry winced, remembering how miserable he had been, lying in the hospital wing while the bones of his right arm were re-grown following Dobby's Bludger attack. "The Healing charm can handle the damage to the nasal passages and the tissue damage, but there's nothing quite like Skele-Gro to handle the healing of bone and cartilage." She frowned up into his eyes and whispered a Revealing charm over his face again, nodding. "The Painkilling charm I gave you earlier will keep the pin pricking that comes with the use of the potion down to a minimum." Harry blew out a breath and, with a shudder, untwisted the cap from the flask and downed a hearty swallow of the clear, yet bitter, liquid. It hasn't improved at all over the years, he thought to himself, as he forced the foul liquid down his objecting throat. Ginny looked him in the eye again. "While I've done my best to take care of the most serious of your injuries, you really should have someone give you a full physical first thing tomorrow." She reached into her purse and extracted a card. "This is my boss, Joshua Buckle," she said, handing the card to Harry. "I'll let him know he should expect you in the morning." Harry nodded, taking the card and was about to hand the flask back to Ginny when a large shadow crossed into his field of vision. "Ginny," a low voice came from Harry's left, "would you care to introduce us?" Bloody hell, he thought to himself. I'd completely forgotten about Sven over there. Ginny jumped, bobbling the flask, which fell out of her grasp. Harry's hand flashed out to catch it before it fell, his Quidditch reflexes as sharp as ever. "H-Harry," she said, stammering nervously, "this is Christopher Ollivander. Chris, Harry Potter." "Ollivander," Harry handed Ginny the flask of tonic and extended his hand towards Christopher, only to feel his fingers being squeezed very hard. It took everything within him not to wince. "Potter," Christopher said, drawing himself up to his full height. Harry noticed, with some discomfort, that Ollivander rivaled Ron for height and bulk. "My apologies for interrupting your evening," Harry said coolly, extracting his hand and placing it behind his back, gingerly moving his fingers to ensure their function. "I can assure you this is not how I intended my last night before heading to Hogwarts to be." Time to be magnanimous, Potter. "Perhaps you both will allow me to treat you to dinner some evening as a way of making amends?" Why on earth was his stomach lurching? "That won't be necessary, Potter," Christopher said, placing a proprietary arm around Ginny's waist, his hand resting low on her hip. Harry's mouth went dry as he raised his narrowing eyes to Christopher's. "Ginny, we should be getting back now." He steered Ginny towards the door of the pub. "Best of luck at Hogwarts, Potter," Christopher said with a smile that failed to reach his eyes. "I'm certain we will see one another soon." Harry watched as Ginny raised her hand in farewell as she and Christopher left the building. He heard a faint pop as they Apparated from the pub. Suddenly, the mirror behind the bar shattered into a million pieces, causing Madam Rosmerta to shriek another stream of obscenities. Harry winced, mentally adding that to his share of the damages. That was the second time he'd lost his temper in so many days. And both times Ginny had had something to do with it. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lindsay Garthwaite was thirsty. She'd been in this darkened room for several hours, her wrists bound behind the back of the hard wooden chair they'd placed her in after they'd finished with her. Her throat felt as though it was on fire – from her thirst, but also from the screams she'd uttered throughout the night. Why hadn't she stayed at home? The fight she'd had with her mother hadn't been as bad as usual, but she'd still felt the idiotic need to sneak out of the house after everyone had gone to bed. She'd only planned to meet her boyfriend Daniel at the Wand and Whistle for a little while. And when he hadn't shown up, the tears she'd held in check all evening raced down her cheeks. She'd been about to leave when a gentleman with luxurious blond hair had offered her a glass of Firewhisky. Mum always warned me not to take drinks from strange men, she thought to herself, shifting painfully on the chair and wishing she were dead. The pain had been indescribable. Curse after curse had rained down upon her from black-garbed wizards, all of whom had had their faces covered, all with the exception of the blond "gentleman" from the pub. After what he'd done to her, she wished he had had his face covered, for she feared she would never be able to erase his face from her mind's eye again. A shiver coursed through her body, and she found herself wishing they'd had the decency to cover her nakedness. Her stomach swam with nausea as she looked down at her body, now covered with dirt, blood and – The door to the room opened and the blond "gentleman" approached her. She could see his face, which had dazzled her hours ago, wearing a sinister smile. "Miss Garthwaite," he said, his voice sneering, "you're a filthy mess. Gooch…Bosse," he motioning to a pair of house elves, both wizened and gnarled. "Clean her up and bring her to the den. We have need of her again." Lindsay's back straightened. Her insides fluttered like a cage of captive butterflies, only serving to make her even more nauseated. She knew what they meant by "need". If she didn't say something now she didn't think she would ever have the chance again. "Please, sir," she said, her voice hoarse and rasping. "My family will pay whatever ransom you are requesting. Please, don't hurt me any more." The man smiled again and Lindsay would have sworn his eyes glittered malevolently. "Who said anything about ransom?" he said as he turned and walked towards the door. The house elves scuttled over to her, wringing out mouldy-looking sponges and grinning. The horror of the man's smile drained the blood from her face as she watched him leave the room, the door slowly closing with a 'click' of finality. ~~~~~~~~~~ Coming Soon: Chapter 8 – Fall Term at Hogwarts Author's Notes: A HUGE thank you to Aibhinn and Robin for all of their assistance and guidance. I'd also like to thank everyone who has reviewed the story so far, both on the GT forum and on the Yahoo group – it's so rewarding to hear that what you are writing is giving people pleasure. I finished the majority of the chapter fairly soon after Ch 6 went up and had only shared it with Aibhinn and Robin for their feedback. Then, strangely enough, on July 22nd I received the following email: Michele, (OK, I fixed the spelling of the name...author's prerogative…) The following plot bunny got lodged firmly in my head tonight and would not leave me along until I gave life to it. I'm sending it to you alone since you're the genius who planted the seed for me to work with. It's only 3 pages long, but if I had let it go any further, I don't think Ron or Harry would've survived the encounter! I hope you enjoy it. – Will Well, that plot bunny had me howling with laughter, overwhelmed to tears and shocked out of my mind all at the same time! It was hard to know that this bunny and my chapter hadn't been written side by side, they were so exact in their depiction of events! Since then, the bunny's added several more pages and is an outtake from this chapter, which I've chosen to name "The Fight", by Willbot. Please read, laugh, cry and review – it's a GEM! So, to Will, my official stunt coordinator, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I'll never forget this!
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