so, due to the fact i had nothing better to do while waiting with my mom in the ER, i pulled out my notebook and began to write random dribbles wherein me and my rp friends (some of them whom i no longer rp with at all) ended up being somehow turned into their 11-12 year old selves, and end up at Hogwarts as first years, while Harry Potter and the gang are in their 5th year.
this is what came of it...
enjoy.
also, this will not make ANY sense whatsoever.
oh! and ALSO..... there is no specific chronological order here. so don't worry if you get confused. n.n
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things to note: Randy, Tyler, Sam, Ryan, and Al were all turned into younger children, yet retain their adult mindset, which of course will get them into trouble. the corresponding ages are:
Al - real age 33, new age 12
Sam - real age 32 (to start with), new age 11 (to start with)
Tyler - real age NA (died at 29 i believe, but mentally he's around 31?), new age 11
Ryan - real age NA (possibly around 30 or 31, but definately younger than Tyler by a bit, and younger than the others), new age 11
Randy - real age 31, new age 11
so, some acts that are not "kosher" for children are alluded to or actually interrupted (most likely by Ginny or Hermione) are in the opinion of the author perfectly fine as long as they happen amongst Al, Sam, Tyler, Randy, and Ryan since technically all five of them are over the legal age of consent... just putting that out there.
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What did he ever do to deserve this? He asked himself that numerous times over the last few weeks. At least he could see again. That was a positive sign, so they told him. But judging by what he saw, he doubted that.
"Al! Stop running around naked!" Randy shouted, grabbing him by his shaggy black hair long enough to force a robe on him at least.
Sam muttered under his breath as he smacked his head against the table with a loud crack. And Tyler... Well... He seemed to be coping with their unusual situation rather well, all things considered.
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"...This is not what I had in mind when I decided to go through my mid-life crisis early..." Sam muttered as Al finally settled down. Bribed with cake and bacon of course.
Zeke smirked. "Finally, I am taller than Sam. This has been an excellent day."
"How long until this all wears off and we're back to normal?" Tyler muttered.
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"Samuel Devlin."
He rolled his eyes and dragged his feet as he went up to sit in the chair. The talking hat dropped on his head, and it began to mutter to him.
"Hrm... You don't like books so Ravenclaw isn't for you... And what's this?... Odd... You don't like school either, but Gryffindor is definately not for you... You're misunderstood, but you'll try to bite the first Hufflepuff that smiles at you..."
"Get on with it, asshole," Sam replied darkly.
"No doubt about this one," the hat replied sarcastically. "Slytherin!"
"Totally called that one," Tyler said to Randy, who dropped a few gold pieces into his hand.
"Alabaster Willem."
"Looks like I'm next," he said with a grin, pinching Tyler's back, then Randy's as he passed by to take his turn in the chair.
He plopped down, grabbed the hat, and put it on his head. "How do I look?"
The hat grumbled at him in annoyance as Al adjusted it on his head.
"Mr. Willem, please put your hands in your lap," McGonagll said insistantly.
"That's not a good idea!" Sam called from the table of Slytherins.
The hat continued to grumble. "You like to read trashy novellas," the hat said. "But not anything of use. No Ravenclaw for you, young man... You're too odd even for Hufflepuffs, I hate to admit. Tricky tricky..." it muttered.
"If you take any longer, I'm gonna 'ave 'ta wear ye 'round school till ye figure this bullshit out."
"Mr. Willem!" the professor snapped. "You will watch your language."
"Yeah yeah..." he muttered.
"You'd make a good Slytherin, that's obvious. But that last one's a trouble maker by himself. Let's not put you in the same house as him."
"Please? I promise I'll behave."
"Not likely," the house replied. "Gryffindor!"
Randy and Tyler both sat with their mouths hanging open. "Well," Ryan chimed. "Nobody saw that comming, did they?"
---------------------------------
Sam stumbled down the stairs, feeling around with one hand while holding his shorts up with the other. He wasn't keen on how big they were, but this early in the morning, he didn't care. First order of business after the bathroom... food. And coffee. If he could sneak the non-decaf past Al that is.
Trodding across the hardwood, barefoot of course, his ears perked up at the sound of someone in the livingroom as he passed. "Al, you up?"
Stupid question. He'd left him curled up naked at the foot of the bed like some kind of dog.
It couldn't have been the twins. They hardly ever surfaced before 3PM at the earliest. Unless Eli had to work. Nessa then?
No. He wasn't hearing the constant keyboard typing.
Didn't matter. Food first. Then he would worry about burglers.
He pushed his sunglasses up on his face before feeling around on his way to the kitchen.
What he found was something he hadn't been expecting. The smell of freshly fried bacon. And someone just barely tall enough to work the stove.
"What the hell?!"
The boy squeaked, jumping back from the stove and the frying pan as if he'd been burned by grease. Sam got a good view of his face. Which didn't register on him right away. Something else did though...
"WHAT THE FUCK! YOU'RE DEAD!"
"OH MY GOD! YOU CAN SEE!"
They were silent, staring at each other a moment before Sam blinked, and slowly realization hit him. Yes, he really could see.
"Just what I fucking need. Another goddamn corpse in my kitchen."
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"Randalph Harrison."
She had just barely put the hat on his head before it began to speak to him.
"Oh you're an odd one. Very bright. Booksmart you are. And very loyal... But you're deceptively cunning, too. Where to put you... where to put you..." it said softly, trying to make up it's mind. "Oh, what's this? I see..." it muttered. "HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Christopher Sedgwick."
Tyler pushed his way forward, much to the surprise of his friends. Timidly, he sat in the chair, and the hat was put on his head. It was silent for a long moment before it began to speak.
"...Oh... You're a strange one... Similar to your friends I see. But different... This isn't your first time being sorted... Another name comes to mind. Another time. Hufflepuff you were sorted into before. But much has changed. You're wiser than you were back then. Driven some could say..."
His friends looked on, and the two red heads, identical Al noticed, were muttering amongst their friends about how long it was taking.
"This is the longest I've seen the hat take," one said.
"Since Harry got sorted his first year," finished the other.
The hat went silent, considering the revelations it was picking up from the student beneath it. "Now that's interresting... A Gryffindor loyalty. With a splash of Slytherin cunning. No doubt things you've picked up along the way... But I think you'll do your best in... RAVENCLAW!"
The hat didn't even touch the top of Ryan's head before it was already speaking. "You're completely insane," it said, not even having touched him before it shouted where he was to be sorted. "HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Well then, guess we're not bunkmates anymore," Al said with a smirk.
------------------------------
"Ye gods these robes're itchy as hell," Al complained, pulling his off and dropping it on the seat beside him.
Sam rolled his eyes, staring out the window of their compartment.
Ryan, who's feet didn't even hope to touch the ground, was kicking said feet in bordem.
"I think we should be focusing on how to get out of this predicament," Randy suggested, reading through one of the tomes he had picked up in Diagon Alley while Al had been busy arguing with the owner of the shop about the lack of books he had dubbed "Porn Without Pictures."
"Besides," he continued. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I really don't want to go through puberty again. The first time was embarrasing enough. There were feathers everywhere. So many feathers..."
Sam laughed, and it was a strange, `squeaky sound. "What the hell are you, a fucking bird?"
Tyler had been conspicuously quiet since they had boarded the train. Which, wasn't much of a difference to how he had been before. But when the treats cart came by, his eyes lit up and he bought an arm load of enchanted chocolate goodies.
"Oi! What about the rest of us!" Al exclaimed when Tyler had refused to share.
Sam gave off that same squeaky laugh. "You don't need any more sweets. Your ass already takes up most of the seat!"
Al turned and punched him hard in the arm with a growl.
-------------------------
"I wonder if I'm still undead," he mused, looking up from his potions homework.
Sam smirked. "We could always test that theory," he said, his pre-teen face giving his wolfish grin a slightly more manic appearance than usual. "I read in one of my DADA books about a killing curse. It sounds promising."
"I'm in the same class. It's not in the-"
"I didn't say it was in the text book, jackass. It was in one I swiped from the restricted section."
Al considered this for a moment. He'd heard rumors about one of his housemates and a killing curse. And he'd asked Tyler about it since he spent most of his time researching and reading anyway. "We gotta be careful though," he said at last. "It's s'posed to be one that'll get us kicked out."
"Plus, if it works and you die, they'll think it was that Voldy-something or other that did it anyway."
Al nodded. "Worth a shot. And if it doesn't work, would make for one hell of a practical joke on the guys."
And that's how Sam and Al received their very first detention after testing out their idea unintentionally during the Halloween Feast five days later.
It was much to many students', and some of their instructors' suprises that the pair had managed to last a month and a half before landing into detention. However, it was no suprise that the act which had earned it for them was something they had done together.
------------------------------
"Oh ho. Pureblood. Wouldn't have known that by looking at you boy... Ironic isn't it?... But where to put you? A natural trouble maker. With a touch of hidden loyalty... but you have father issues, that you do. And a pessimist too. SLYTHERIN!"
--------------------------
"Where have you been? Curfew-"
"Fuck the curfew," Al said quite happily. "I just had me a good-"
Randy clamped his hand over Al's mouth with an embarrassed smile. "Don't mind him. We had an accident in Charms today, and he's unable to stop talking before he speaks. Unfortunately, it's so strange and bizzare that we don't know how to cure him of it. So we were told to wait and let it wear off on its own."
----------------------------
"So..." Al said.
"We're stuck like this. Indefinately," Sam muttered, letting his head fall forward and smack his forhead on the table with a loud crack. "I hate my life. Again."
"Look on the bright side," Ryan said dreamily. "At least we're all together and relatively healthy."
Tyler stared at him a long moment before shaking his head. "Someday, I'm going to obliviate this entire experience from my mind and hide among the muggles again."
------------------------------
" 'Christopher Sedwick'? " Al asked, giving his oldest friend a strange look.
Tyler sighed. "Well... technically... yeah. At least, I think. I'm not sure. I've been reading up on the subject of reincarnation recently and-" He cut himself off and sighed. "You must think I'm losing my marbles."
Al smiled kindly at him, which made him seem even more innocent than he truly was. He put a hand on his arm gently. "Listen mate," he said. "Ye know ye can always talk ta me 'bout crazy shit, yeah. I mean, look at me, I don't even know if I'm ever gonna be older than 12 again. Undead aging problem, remember?"
He laughed softly to himself, indeed remembering his friend's predicament. "Well," he said. "There's this one concept that seems to get glossed over in all the books I've found. Well, except a few from the mug- I mean, from 'our' proper world. Most of these books here are just on the theory, not the actual... well, reality of it. And they just briefly mention the case of a 'walk-in'. I mean, I died, remember. Not that long ago, right?"
He nodded. "Round two, three years ago. Yeah," he said.
"So how can I be here, if I'm dead? This is an 11 year old body, Al. I didn't regress like you guys, but I didn't grow up to match either. I think something might have happened to the real Christopher, and somehow I got mixed up and sort of ended up here by accident."
"So... lemme follow this," the raven haired boy replied. "What yer sayin is that it's like a revolvin door er a turnstile, right?"
"What?"
"Y'know. Like, one person's tryin ta go out the door, yer tryin ta go in. So, one of ye hops in one side of the door thing, the other guy hops in the other side, and ye just kinda push the door in a circle, right. An then yer inside an he's outside."
It took him a moment to follow the logic. After all, Al tended to have strange analogies in his version of understanding. Which meant his logic wasn't always sound nor made much sense. After a bit, he nodded. "Yes. Something like that. Only in this case it's not a door, it's a body."
"I think I get it," he said, leaning back in his chair and considering the idea a moment longer. "An ye think this is what happened? Like, ye was reincarnated, but not in the usual fashion of jus bein popped out of some lady's gut?"
"That's the basic idea." He'd forgotten how dense his friend truly was. For someone who understood life and death in strange ways, Al definately wasn't able to grasp the more outlandish concepts. "But don't tell the others. Not just yet," he said.
"I swear it, on me honor, yeah."
This made him laugh quietly again. "Your honor? Since when did you have honor, you crossdressing manwhore," he snickered.
---------------------------
"They're definately a strange bunch," Hermione commented.
Ron nodded. "Since when did Slytherins hang out with anyone else but themselves anyway?"
Ginny smiled. "Does it even matter?"
"What? You got a crush on that scraggly one?" Ron asked, and he certainly wasn't amused. "I won't allow it."
Hermione giggled. "I don't think he's your type Ginny," she said. "After all, have you seen the way he leers at that Ravenclaw?"
"You don't mean..." she said in astonishment. Hermione nodded. And the two girls broke into a gigglefit.
Ron cast Harry a look of horror and confusion, but mostly horror. "Save me," he said. "These girls won't stop."
Harry joined in their laughter, not even knowing what it was about. But judging from the look Ron gave him, it must have been really something.
-----------------------------
Randy sighed, gathering up the feathers tangled up in his bedsheets for the eighth morning in a row. "I can't wait until we get this mess sorted out," he said to Ryan. "I don't think I can take much more of this molting."
"At least you'll have enough for a pillow soon," he said, kicking his feet as he watched from his bed. "Two in fact. Could you make me one?"
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"Mr. Willem! Mr. Devlin! Stop putting charms on Mr. Potter's robes!"
"What?" Al whined. "I just wanted to see if all the rumors were true!"
Sam stifled a snicker. It wasn't the first time he'd let Al's big mouth take the fall for him.
------------------------------
"Nocturne Alley? You do know what they say about-"
"Oh shut it," Al said. "They have some kick ass shops down yonder. Like this one place, makes a hell of a lot better wands than that Ollivander bastard."
------------------------------
Dumbledore's Army. Now that looked promising. Plus, Sam surmised, he really didn't have anything better to do since the others had decided to actually focus on their homework lately.
------------------------------
"Must you transfigure everything into KFC?"
"What?" he said, licking his fingers. "Those damn house elves don't make fried chicken with the right signature spices I like. Plus, this is deep fried death and heaven at the same time. I WILL NOT BE DENIED!"
Al blinked, staring at him before taking his bucket of chicken away. "Oh no ye don't," he said in the slightly mothering tone he had used so often on him. "I'm not goin through all that heart trouble mess with ye again."
"But Al..." he whined.
"No."
------------------------------
He stood back and watched the others practice for a while.
"Come on, you next Sam," Ginny encouraged, giving him a slight push. It wasn't the first time. She'd been on him all evening about joining in.
Al strode out from the group across the room, his wand in its holster on his wrist.
Sam smiled, slightly manic looking before nodding. "I think I will," he said, taking up the opposite end of the hall.
"This is going to end in tears," Tyler said to himself with a sigh, pinching between his eyes.
"Oh ho?" Al said, smirking. He looked like a geek when he did that.
"Prepare to get your ass whipped," Sam said, returning the smirk as he pulled out his basilisk wand.
"Stupefy!" they shouted at the same time, wands out. Their attack hit in mid air.
"Stupefy!" they shouted again.
This went on five more times before finally they both went flying backwards, still shouting and flinging it at each other despite the fact they were flying through the air into a good hard fall.
"I'm gonna borrow this for a sec." Tyler couldn't take it anymore and grabbed Ryan's wand. Holding out both his and Ryan's he shouted out at them both from the crowd on his side of the room. "Stupefy!"
The pair of trouble makers landed on the ground with a combined grunt and a whine.
"Stop having pissing contests before you hurt yourselves! The both of you!" he snapped at them, and when both got to their feet again, they rejoined their respective sides of the room with their heads down.
------------------------------
"Expecto Petronum!" Sam shouted, flicking his wand. From the stream of light that burst forth, a cat jumped out, chasing a ball of string.
"Well that's just weird," Ron said. "Who conjours a ball of string with their's?"
Hermione shrugged. It was the first she had ever heard of it.
But not to be outdone, Al pulled out his wand.
"Oh god, here we go again," Tyler intoned, which seemed to have become his mantra whenever the pair were together.
Swishing his wand about, Al shouted. "Expecto Petronum!"
And out popped the most adorable chihuahua anyone had ever seen.
"Awwwww! Look at it! It's so cute!" Ginny cooed.
Tyler stared at it for a long moment before looking at Al. Now that was a scary thought indeed. Such a tiny little dog for such an imposing person?...
Then he noticed it was acting a little... odd.
"No! How do you turn this thing off!" Al shouted, swishing his wand about as his little doggie chased Sam's cat around while yapping loudly.
"Drop the wand! Drop the wand!" Sam was shouting.
Tyler stared as Ryan and Randy giggled amonst themselves.
"Eye bleach! Eye bleach!" Ron shouted, covering his eyes.
And so it was decided that Sam and Al would never be allowed to cast their Petronums at the same time, or even in the same room. As they tended to... do very rude things to one another.
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"You're so weird," Ginny said, walking with him. "For a first year, I mean."
He shrugged. He may have been 12, but since he'd never been to Hogwarts, let alone a magic school before, he, like Sam, had been stuck with the younger crowd.
"Eh. There's always gotta be an odd ball in the house I guess," he replied with a grin, scratching the back of his neck.
"So is it true? Did you really flirt with Malfoy?"
He stared at her for a moment before laughing. "Nah. He's not really my type."
Her eyes widened. "So you really DO like-"
"Shh..." he said, hushing her. "Don't get too loud. I don't need the whole damn school knowin, alright."
She nodded, looking around before speaking again, this time in a hushed tone. "So who was it?"
"What?"
"Which Slytherin were you flirting with?"
"Yer gonna laugh," he said.
"Promise I won't."
"Yeah ye are."
"I will not!"
"Shhh!" he hissed at her.
"Right," she said, giving a nod. "But you've got to tell me. I promise, not a word to anyone."
"Especially Ron?"
She nodded. "Especially Ron."
"...Sam Devlin."
"Oh my god," she managed to exclaim quietly. "Really? I didn't think he..."
"He is. And, tell ye a secret, I know three other blokes too."
"You don't mean..."
He nodded. And her suspicions had been confirmed.
-------------------------
So the story goes...
Al has a crush on Sam, who's Ryan's older half-brother, who has a crush on Tyler, who's Randy's fraternal twin brother, and the pair of them are second cousins with Al.
So the story goes.
But only one man knows the truth.
And his name is Albus Dumbledore.
-------------------------
"Well... one year of Hogwarts done, six more to go apparently."
Tyler sighed. "I was hoping you wouldn't say that. Hearing it out loud is discouraging."
"I heard they're testing out the co-ed program at the Salem Institute," Al said. "Could always go into the exchange program, even though we're all Americans."
"Everyone but you," Sam reminded him. "You have to go back to Dublin."
"Nuh uh. Nessa's living at the Manor now, remember. At least until we get this mess sorted out."
"You mean until we grow up," Tyler said. "Again."
"Hey, at least this time you might make it to thirty," Al said cheerfully, which had the opposite effect.
--------------------------
Tyler and Randy spent much of the summer pouring through volumes upon volumes of various family histories, trying to discover any clue as to what had happened to them and why. Apparently, Sam was a pureblood as far as the wizarding world was concerned, and Al only a half-blood.
Whereas Tyler "Christopher", Randy, and Ryan were all muggle-born.
---------------------------
"A plague," Tyler concluded.
Al's eyes grew wide in panic. Sam chuckled.
"More specifically," Randy supplied. "A curse. And not a simple one either. This one's old, hundreds of years in fact. Al, you'd know this one. Remember back in highschool in English we were reading Romeo and Juliete?"
He nodded. "Yeah. But I don't see what this has to do with-"
" 'A plague o're both your houses.' " Tyler quoted. "Mercutio, Romeo's best friend."
Again, Al nodded. "But I still don't see-"
"It's based on a true story. Tristan and Isolde. But... let's put this into terms we'll all recognize. Capulets and Montegues," Tyler said. "Sam and Al, you'll be the basis for this. Sam is the Capulets, while Al, you're the Montegues."
"So where does that leave you three?"
"I'm getting to that," he said. "Since we lack a Juliette-"
"Okay, wait. It'd make more sense if I was Romeo, and Sam was the Prince. See, that would make you Juliete. Cause Romeo stole Juliet from the Prince."
Tyler blinked, then blushed fiercely at his logical deduction.
"So where does that leave me and Randy?"
"Well, if we incorporate Al's oddly timed and rather insightful logic, that would make Randy... hrm... Rosaline. Yes, Rosaline."
Randy nodded appreciatively. "Since I was in an official relationship with Romeo here first, and in the story, Romeo pines after Rosaline before meeting Juliet."
Tyler nodded. "So now, we have the problem of Ryan."
"Hey! I'm not a problem!"
"Wait wait wait a minute here," Sam interrupted. "Romeo dies in the story. As we can clearly see, Al is very much alive."
"Not quite," Tyler said. "He's undead. And he died before Juliet. Considering Al's condition when we met him, he is very much dead."
"Undead," Al corrected him with a grumble.
Tyler sighed, rubbing his temple. "For the sake of explanation, let's just say you're dead, alright. It'll make this much easier to comprehend."
"Alright, fine," he said, crossing his arms over his chest with a groan.
Tyler rolled his eyes. Randy nodded. Ryan wasn't paying attention at this point.
"Okay, the main characters. So Romeo died first. Al died before all of us. Juliet died second, I was the first to our knowledge to die after Al. Depending on which version you're looking at, the Prince would also die, but he's a minor character so it's a moot point by then. In other versions, he lives. So, Sam's still alive, he's the Prince. Randy's still alive, so he's Rosaline who we never actually see, on account of him officially dating Al first. And since Ryan clung to Al all the time, and was always jealous of the rest of us that makes him..."
"Tybalt!" Sam shouted cheerfully. "Who gets shot in the head!"
"No," Al said. "He gets shot in the chest."
"I thought it was the side," Randy supplied.
Tyler threw his hands in the air. "I give up. Ryan is Mercutio, alright."
The three others considered this for a moment, then turned to stare at their fifth wheel. "So... he's to blame?"
"Maybe. Maybe not. But there's definately a plague, I mean curse, on both your houses."
"So how did you guys get mixed up in this?"
"Well..." Tyler began, and Randy jumped in.
"See, what happened is we traced back as far as we could all of our family trees. Sam's was the worst because we only had his mother's side, and not his real dad's," he said. "But, as far as we can tell, and this is going to sound gross and odd at the same time. Somewhere way back in history, my ancestors and Tyler's original ancestors were related. I came off a branch from a daughter, he came off a branch from a son. Ryan and Sam's ancestors have the same issue. You're suprisingly not related to us in any way. Which is kinda good, I suppose, but not really. See, your line is related to Ryan and Sam's by marraige only, and it was an arranged one too. Thus officially and legally binding your family trees. So, sleeping with Ryan is a very, and I stress this VERY distant form of incest."
Sam stared at him a moment, then looked at Al. And the pair blinked at each other. "Well," Al said at last. "At least that explains where Eli and Zeke got that gene from."
"Hey! You're the one that made a move on me!"
"As if! You drunkard shoved your hand down my trousers!"
"You shoved my smokes down there!"
----------------------------------------
"So, now that we kind of maybe have an idea of what caused this mess, is there any way to reverse it?"
"Unfortunately... we haven't worked that part out yet."
Randy nodded in agreement.
"I swear to GOD if I don't finish puberty soon I'm going to kill every one of you! Starting with Ryan and working my way through to Al!"
"On the plus side," Randy offered. "We can completely embarrass our children by telling them what to do in public."
"This is true," Sam said, stroking his hairless chin.
-----------------------------------------
"I heard some kid tell the first years you've got the Dark Mark."
Al stared at her. "What?"
"Is it true?"
"Why do you always ask me that? Is this rumor true? Is that rumor true? Gods Ginny, you sound like a broken record."
"Well, is it?"
He sighed, pulling up the sleeves of his robes and showing her his collection of tattoos. "Do you see any of them moving?"
"Oh my god... there's so many of them..."
"Not all tattoos are the sign of the Dark Lord," he muttered, letting his sleeves fall back down.
------------------------------------------
"You're really powerful for firsties," he said. "Probably better than Potter."
"I wouldn't say that," Sam said. Though, he didn't believe his own words. "We just practice a lot. Picking up bits and pieces here or there."
-----------------------------
"What are they up to..."
"Spies maybe?"
Ron nodded. "I heard Al's got the Mark."
"He does not," Hermione said, then turned to Ginny. She seemed to be the only one who ever got information out of their housemate. "Does he?"
She chewed her lip. "Well..." she said. "He's got lots of tattoos..."
"See! He does!" Rony exclaimed.
"He does not. He showed them to me himself. None of them are the Dark Mark. Most of them are in latin though. But I couldn't decipher it."
"Can you remember any of them?" Hermione asked, intrigued. "I might be able to translate-"
"I promised I wouldn't try. He says they're protection spells his mom put on him when he was a baby. Says that Hogwarts is dangerous, and she wants to make sure he makes it out alive."
"I don't think he IS alive," Harry said. "He got up after being hit with an AK."
"Maybe it was his charm things," Hermione said. "Protecting him. After all, your mum's love protected you. Why not him too?"
"I don't think it works like that, Mione," Ron said.
"Wow, Ronald Weasley actually had a thought," Hermione teased.
---------------------------------
"Al, you can't just invite random people over. It's-"
"Come on Sam! It's the summer! And it's only for a month! You know how horrible Harry's relatives are! And besides, I think Fred and George would have tons of fun here!"
Sam sighed. When Al was in that mood, he knew it was best to just let him have his way.
"Alright, but you're explaining why we sleep in the same room on the same bed."
"Fine fine," he muttered.
-----------------------------------
"Okay, a few ground rules," Al said. "One, there won't be any wand magic in this house. Or in this area. Despite how open minded we Americans are about that sort of thing, it'd be best not to draw too much attention to ourselves. Anything that doesn't requite wands is perfectly fine," he said, then looked straight at Ginny. "And no sneaking around upstairs with the invisibility cloak."
"But-"
"Trust me," Tyler said. "It's REALLY not a good idea."
-------------------------------------
"Whoa... You all live in this big house by yourselves?" Ron said, looking at the back of the Manor.
Sam nodded.
"Yup," Al beamed. "And there's still room enough for more."
--------------------------------------
"Ezekiel James Devlin! You get your head out of the oven NOW!" Al shouted, causing the young adult to stand upright, despite the fact that the voice yelling at him was in that awkward squeaky pitch of a teen.
"Whoa..." Ron said, munching on a piece of toast.
Al grabbed Zeke by the ear and dragged him out of the kitchen, much like Ron's own mother did to him at times.
---------------------------------------
"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" Hermione exclaimed, turning and rushing out into the hall as Sam fell onto the floor.
Sam flailed in a mess of sheets. "Don't you people ever knock!"
"Fuckin 'ell! I told you to charm the door!" Al shouted at him.
These have been posted over on my xanga, but for those who don't read it or see it, here's the links I've got to share.
1 - Torchwood-Time Lord - my new fanfic now has a new chapter up. a day late, but hey, it was Easter! i was busy with WHO related things that required my full attention and focusing of my eyeballs. there, with that shameless self promotion out of the way.... on to the next order of business...
2 - Sorcery, UNITed, Independence, Space - an AWSOME fanfic. i really can't stand Harry Potter, but this was actually pretty damn cool. It takes place the summer right after Order of the Phoenix, and guess what, it's got motherfuckin UNIT.... AND.... THE BRIG! that's right, i said it. UNIT and the Brig. and Harry joins up. it's told mostly from Harry's side of the situation, so it's mostly HP and not so much DW. but hell, if I could read it without falling asleep... that says a lot. (if the link didn't work, copy and paste this one: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2927471/1/Sorcery_UNITed_Independence_Space)
3 - if you haven't seen these guys, you should. Sebastian Bird, Thomas Rhys-Kaye, and Tony Coburn each do their own fantastic BRILLIANT takes on the Doctor. Each do wonderful impressions but also have their own Doctor Who adventures. check them out.
Where, when, and with whom was your very first kiss?
Well.... to some this may come as a shock. But it's ALSO part of my "comming out" story.
I was at a party with some very close friends after a school dance (which had started at 7 and ended at 9). Oh, this was back in middle school, and I was in 7th grade. I'm 22 years old now. Just to give people an idea here of how long ago it was. I wasn't really in the whole "preppy/cheerleader/jock" type of crowd. I was uber nerd uber geek uber freak gothy anime kid. BUT... long story short my friend Lee's "secret" boyfriend on the football team was throwing a party after the dance. Lee was invited to go, but said he wouldn't go unless some of his friends could go, so he'd have someone to talk to. So, me, Z, and James were all dragged to the party. I spent it mostly on a couch talking with some random girl.
At said party, in the backwoods of the backwoods of north Georgia I might add, was of course illegal substances. Seriously, that's just how stuff was done back then (and most likely still is) where I come from. It's KKK redneck country. Well, being a naive 7th grader, how the hell was I supposed to know or realize that the punch didn't taste like... well... it probably should have. Got a little tipsy. Everyone did. And I found myself making out with the girl I'd been talking to. Still for the life of me can't remember her name, but she was moderately pretty. Not a cheerleader, I remember that much. Just a random preppy girl, dark hair, fake tan. And then, next thing I remember was getting embarrassed, running for the bathroom, and puking my guts up for an hour.
And that, was the when, where, and whom of my first kiss.
My second one was far better, and I was very much sober for it, I think. n.~
If you had to invite five friends or celebrities (or a combination of both) to a slumber party at your house tonight, who would you include and what movies would you rent?
oh it'd SO be a combination of guests.
first, the friends: Z of course (she'd kill me if i didn't!), mouse, and tuttle.
celebrities: david tennant and john barrowman
and what would we rent? why, we wouldn't rent any movies. we'd watch Doctor Who on Rootforum ALL NIGHT. and not just the New Who either. Classic Who. The older the episode, the better! I'd LOVE to get my hands on some William Hartnell and Jon Pertwee years!
and even though this wasn't part of the question.... we'd eat chips (that's home fries to us Yanks), chinese, and jelly babies!
ah. here we are again for another round of "Another Green Notebook" dribblefest. nearing the end now. after this, there's maybe two more posts of this nonsense to go!
sorry for posting again what has previously been posted. and for everything else, enjoy. n.n
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He sat on the boulder, lit up his cigarette, and leaned back. The moon was rising. The chill of night was comming on.
He felt nothing. In the end, all a man has is himself.
This stubborn bastard learned that lesson the hard way.
Centuries ago, it didn't have to be that way. Millenia ago, it wasn't that way.
He sat upon that boulder, overlooking the lights of the city below. Feeling a presence behind him, he stubbed out the freshly lit cancer stick and tucked it safely back into his pack.
"I knew I'd find you up here Belial."
"What do you want Lev?"
"We've found Him."
"Where?" he asked, tearing his gaze away from his city.
"A mission in San Angeles. Looks like he's been there a long time, hiding his presence with the help of the nunnery."
He nodded.
"Lucifer's sent out some men-"
"Tell him to call them back."
"belial-"
He stood, brushing himself off. "Haniel is mine."
"Lucifer won't be pleased."
He smirked, his face briefly illuminated by a passing helicopter above. "Lucifer can suck my balls. Leave Haniel to me. You just get Lucy's men to back the fuck off."
He glanced back over his shoulder to look at his city, his New York, before fading into the rising night.
---------------------
"Sister Josephine, where is Father Connor?"
"I'll never tell the likes of you!"
"I'm a patient man. I'll ask you again. Where is Father Connor?"
"Your kind will never get your hands on the Holy Scriptures!"
He was lightning quick. His hand was wrapped around her throat, and his green eyes were wild. "There are twenty seven 'men' on their way here as we speak, Sister. I don't have time for games. Tell me where he is, and I will ensure your end will be swift. Don't tell me, and I will leave you for Lucifer's amusement."
--------------------
"Tell me where he is! Tell me where you're hiding the Angelican!"
"You can kill me, demon, but you will never find him!"
"It is alright, Father Connor. This one will not harm him. Belial isn't like the others. He seeks to warn Haniel."
"I will not trust a Demon. It is not our way. Sister Josephine, how can you-"
"He spared my life, Father. He could have killed me, or worse, left me for Lucifer to find. But he didn't."
"It's a trick!"
"Father, please! We haven't much time left!"
"Father Connor, I loved Haniel like no other. I would gladly face the wrath of God himself should things come to that if it would get that man to safety."
Father Connor's face changed as he took in the sorrow of the demon's eyes. At last, he understood Raziel's words. "You are the one who betrayed Lucifer after the Fall. You were the one who defied God himself and allowed safe passage of sinners into Heaven."
"I am. And I am running out of time. I have steered Lucifer away from Haniel all this time. But he's the last of his kind. I must protect him."
"why?... Why such determination?"
He took off his glove and raised his hand. A silver band shone brightly in the sunlight. "Years ago before your ancestors were twinkles in their parents' eyes, I made a promise to that blond bitch. And damn it, I never break a promise."
--------------------
"Alabaster."
"It's been too long since I've heard that name."
The robed figure nodded, comming to stand at his side. "Is it November 8th already?"
"I told him last tim I'd bring beer and his favorite food."
"Fried chicken?"
He smiled. "Triple fried, just the way he liked it."
"Al, you can't keep doing this to yourself."
"Doing what?"
"Living in the past. He's gone. They're all gone. They wouldn't want you to-"
"How would you know what they'd want? You never liked them anyway. Especially Sammy-boy."
"Please, let's not argue. Not anymore."
"Fine by me. You always win out in the end," he said, kneeling beside the grave. He opened a can of beer and poured it over the headstone.
"Come on. It'll be dark soon. The city'll be crawling with Lucifer's soldiers."
"Al?"
"Yeah?" he asked, standing up and brushing the dirt off his jeans.
"Do you really think you can do it? Stop this madness and send Lucifer back to Hell?"
"Yeah. I can do it."
"You'll be sent back too."
"I know. I'm ready for it this time. I can handle myself down there."
He nodded. "Can you save Ryan?"
"Absolutely." No hessitation.
"You're scared, aren't you?"
He laughed, and scratched the back of his head. "If I could die, I'd be scared to death, tell the truth," he replied, taking one final look at the beer soaked headstone. "Come on, we've been here long enough. I've got a safe house nearby. We can wait out the night there."
ah. here we are again. Another Green Notebook entry. we're almost near the end of the notebook now. almost. out of 180 pages, not all of them were used for dribbles, and a slightly decent chunk wasn't even used at all. i may save those in my recycle bin for other projects and things.
anyway, as always, my apologies if any of these have been posted before. they shan't return again. and for everything else that hasn't seen the light of day till now, enjoy!
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"You can rest here tonight," he said with a kind smile. "I'll fix up the couch for you and-"
"Damnit Al! You brought back another goddamn stray, didn't you? Don't lie to me! I can smell the bastards 20 miles off!"
"Oh shut it you old blind bastard! This ai'n got nuthin to do with you!"
"I fucking KNEW it!" Sam shouted. "I'm lockin your ass out!" The bedroom door slamed shut swiftly after, and five deadbolts slid into place.
"I'm sorry for causing you trouble. I didn't know your boyfriend-"
"Kid, he ai'n my boyfriend."
"but he said... Aren't you and he..."
"Don't short the brain out tryin to figure it out kiddo. It's just too damn complicated." He reached over and ruffled the boy's hair with a laugh before standing up to fetch a pillow and blanket from the linen closet.
"You go get yourself a bath and I'll make up the couch, yeah."
"But where are you going to sleep? He locked you out."
He smirked. "He knows I'll bust down the door if he doesn't let me in eventually," he said. "Oh... if you need a lamp, we keep the spares in the bottom of the linen closet. Help yourself."
-----------------------
"I can't believe I let you talk me into this..."
"Relax. Nobody'll recognize you. Hell, you look like your sister... only better. Now hold still. I don't wanna poke your eyes out."
"Not like I ever use the damn things anyway," he grumbled, but he did like he was told.
"Well, I LIKE your eyes. I think they're handsome... and the cloudiness makes them a little sexier too," he said, nipping at the blind man's chin as he finished applying the last of the make-up.
"My my, what a pretty young woman you make Miss Samantha," Al said with a snicker.
Sam growled at him. "Let's get this damn bet over with..."
------------------------
"What the HELL do you think you're doing Al!" Sam hissed. Al smiled against his friend's neck. "there's so many hot guys around here I can't help but keep my hands on you."
"Liar."
"Maybe. But I don't want any other bloke tryin to take what's mine."
"I'm not some chew toy Al. I don't belong to you."
-------------------------
"How do you stay so young looking? You botox?"
"No, I'm... undead, remember. I don't really age. When you're seventy, I'll still look and feel seventeen. Well... maybe more like 20... If I'm lucky. I could always have some work done, wrinkle myself up a bit so you wouldn't look like a pedophile."
"You never did tell me how you got... well... what you are. It's not every day you meet a horny talking corpse."
"That's one story you won't get out of me."
"Not even for an Al snack?" Sam grinned as he exaggerated grabbing his rear.
"Not even for that," he replied.
"Bet your dumb ass told Randy."
"No, not quite. It's... something I try hard to forget," he said.
--------------------------------
"He's like you, that kid." He wrapped his hand around the long neck of the bottle. "Green eyes, red hair. Scrawny and quiet."
"How'd you guess?"
"I'm blind, not deaf. I asked him myself."
"He's like me. He's... mine."
"How do you know?"
"The timing. His age. He's dead inside. Half in this world, half in another. He's lost, alone. All these years spent trying to fill a bottomless void only to meet me and discover that not even I can help him."
"I don't think we're talking about the kid anymore, are we?"
"When I was five years old, I was taken right off the street. Five years old Sam. And I was stripped, beaten, and raped. Every single day of my life for 10 years. I forgot my name, I couldn't remember a time when I didn't wake up to the sounds of my own screaming. I couldn't recall the faces of my family, or if I even had one. Or the smell of grass after a good rain.
"Ten years of pain. Ten years of a steady diet of bread, cum, and water. And then, a woman came. She said she was going to make me a real man. She came down into the dungeon day after day... and she..." He was quiet. Wringing his hands in his lap anxiously, drawing in a shakey breath as he looked away from his dear friend's sightless stare of... shock? Disbelief? He didn't dewll on what his friend might now think of him. He needed to get it out. He needed to get the burden of his past off his back once and for all.
"That's why I don't trust women. All those years of being used by men, and my first conscious memory of a woman was so frightening, so painful that it literally made me afraid of them all.
He sighed, staring down at his now shaking hands. He tried, and failed, to will them back into stillness. "But that's not the worst of it. Before all of that, I was a sick, frail child. Born with a weak heart. Couldn't run, couldn't even go down a few stairs without fainting. And when I got better, somehow, those monsters knew it. My heart would give out, and they'd get a doctor. Nurse me back to health only to do it all again. And each time they brought me back, part of me stayed dead. Part of me would stay behind in the firey pits of Hell. And it seemed a paradise compared to what my life was like. I remember... the last time, the very last time I died. There was a man waiting for me there. He was so kind. So strong and powerful. And he told me to go back. He told me not to be afraid. That he'd go with me, and he'd make sure no one ever hurt me again.
"the next thing I remember is waking up naked in the snow. I was so cold. An American man and his brother found me. They smuggled me into the country, into New York. They took care of me, and they helped me find out what I am."
---------------------------
"There are others out there, like you. Leviathan, Samael, Lucifer. And another unknown."
----------------------------
"Daddy!" the girl exclaimed, running down the hall into his opened arms.
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----------------------------------------
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"Tem?"
"Yeah?" he said, closing his eyes and resting his head against his lover's chest.
"I love you," he said. "Just thought you'd like to know."
"That's the first time you've said it like that."
"Like what?" Joe asked, a bit puzzled.
He sighed and nuzzled his face against his chest. "Like you really mean it."
-----------------
"The pair of you, perfectly balanced. Alone you are strong, but your power consumes," she said, breathing in the thick, toxic vapours. "Together, you are unstopable. But something looms overhead. I can scarecely see it through the veil."
--------------------
What one thing, without fail, puts you in a bad mood?
hrm. this one is a toughie to narrow down. but.... i'll have to say "screaming matches" considering there's been a LOT of those in my house as of late. if it's not me and jakob, it's mom and dad, or me and dad, or everyone, or the cat (she's been meowing a lot more since we all started screaming at eachother.)
He was a tall young man. His body trim, well kept. His face was soft. Icy blue eyes opened as he yawned, stretching his once limp limbs.
"Leviathan," Belial said smiling. "Welcome to Earth, my friend." He held out his hand, and Leviathan took it. Belial pulled him to his feet.
"Why does it hurt so?"
"The pain will pass. It is only the soul dying inside the body."
-----------------
"Many years ago, my ancestor did terrible things. But they were not by his own will."
-------------------
"Long ago our ancestors were the destitute, the outcast, and the tossed aside. But one man saw the good in them, and he took them in. Through him, they reclaimed their pride and their freedom. They reclaimed their lives. None of us would be here, had it not been for him... The Boss. He asked for nothing in return for his kindness except friendship and loyalty."
"We began 2000 years ago as an army of 10,000. But now, we're 100,000 strong!" a woman shouted.
"You there!" Belial snapped.
The woman came forward, and grinned.
"What is your name?"
"I am Carmina, of the house Hayden," she snapped as she saluted, a classic 21st century sniper rifle hanging off her back.
He smiled and gave a small nod. "I see the love of firearms is hereditary."
"Sir?"
"Your patriarch, Hayden Westbrook. Born in Glasgow, raised in Ireland. His idea of solving any problem, especially spiders, was to shoot to kill."
--------------
He stopped, turning and stepping back in front of a young woman who stood at attention. She was tall, she was proud, she was weary. But he saw her back stiffen, her pupils dialate and shrink back again as she tried to maintain perfect stature in front of the general.
"I know you," he said, giving her a small smirk. She could not help herself, and gave one in return.
He gave a small nod. "House of Harrison, the line of Connor, correct."
"No, sir," she snapped. "House of Devlin, line of Willem."
"I see," he said, his smirk broadening into a genuine smile. "One of the Black Widow's offspring then."
"Yes, sir. The Lady Nessa Rose is my line's matriarch, sir."
"Good. We'll need a good eye for a flamethrower. How are you with tanks?"
"Only the old Soviets will do, sir."
----------------------------------------
"Al? That you?"
"Yeah. Gimme two ticks, yeah."
"what the hell are you doin over there?"
"Pissin on Aiden. What else would I be doin?"
"Damnit Al, she's been dead for 15 years. Just let it go."
"I am."
"That's not what he meant!" an identical voice barked angrily.
--------------------------
"Oh shut up," Al snapped, burrying his face into Sammy's neck.
"Hey! Don't fuckin bite me! Fuckin vampire!"
But Al ignored him, growling like some caged beast as he straddled the smaller man's lap.
"stop that!" Sammy yelled, trying to shove Al off of him. But the taller man wouldn't budge.
"Look, we can either do this the fun way or I'll make you. So just try and enjoy it asshole."
"You'd rape me?!"
"If I had to, yeah."
"You wouldn't dare."
He sat up straight, glarind down into his mossy eyes with a wicked grin. "Is that a challenge, Mr. Donnelly?"
----------------------
"Can I come in?"
"No."
"I left my boots under the bed."
"So?"
---------------------
"Sunuva!-" he screamed, holding his head as he nearly jumped over the back of the sofa.
---------------------
"Hi. My name is Alice. How do you do?" he said with a ruby smile. "Sammy never told me how delightful a family he has."
"This has got to be some kind of a joke."
"Excuse me?"
"Sammy, with a girlfriend? That's hard to believe."
-------------------
"So, what does your girlfriend do?"
"Alice is NOT my girlfriend."
"Say what you want," she said. "But a mother always knows."
"She's a teacher at some college."
"Oh, well! That explains it then."
"explains what?"
"Her cheerfullness. But she does seem a little young to be a teacher..."
"Don't let her looks fool you. She's a lot older than she seems."
----------------------
"Look, I'd rather be myself right now, but Sammy didn't want you all to know how-"
"I know."
"If you don't tell anyone else, I'll let you raid my closet and even give you some tips for hiding certain 'things' if you want."
-----------------------
"Marshall and I are going out for a while. Call if you need anything, love," he said, giving Sammy a small kiss on the cheek. He took Marshall by the arm and giggled as they went out the door.
Chapter 1 of Act 1 is posted.
Brief Summary: The Commander and his assistant are having lunch when they are interrupted by Medi, one of the Archive researchers. The Commander also misses an important meeting with some scientists.
in case no one has noticed, many of the things from "another green notebook" posts aren't exactly chronological, and are often contradicting. XD but, i'd like to point out that despite their non-cannonicity (in most cases) they do happen in the same universe.
still confusing?
okay, how's this? the Eight Doctor Adventures book series of Doctor Who is not considered 100% canon material, since it is in book/novel form and not televised like the rest of the series. This presents further problems when the Gallifrey series of novels also takes place, and Longbarrow, and then of course the novels that go along with the New Who series, and so on and so forth. though not 100% canon, they all take place in the same Whoniverse, despite all of them contradicting one another. see what i mean?
okay. if you're still confused. then i don't think i can really explain it to you.
anyway, enjoy. and sorry if some of these have been posted before.
like i said in a previous post somewhere (or maybe on my xanga) i'm ripping the pages out when i've got them typed up so i don't repeat them ever again.
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He pulled his hands out of his pocket, reaching the grubby fingers into the glass cabinet for the badly wrapped box on the bottom shelf. "What's this?"
"What's what?" Al called from the kitchen area.
"This box," Sammy said, giving it a shake. Something inside rattled lightly.
Al came around the screens with a tray of cookies and cocoa. "That was a gift," he said, setting the tray down on the coffee table.
"From who? It doesn't say," he said, shaking it again. "It's pretty light."
He didn't answer at first. Instead he busied himself with the tray. Setting the cups on matching saucers, adding a few cookies beside them.
"Hey! Answer my question!"
"It was from Sam," he said quietly, placing napkins down before he sat in the recliner. "He was so proud of himself. God only knows why. He'd picked it out and somehow managed to wrap it without help. But... he never had a chance to give it to me."
"Oh," Sammy said, sitting down in front of a cup. He set the box down on the tray. "Sorry."
"It's okay," he said. "It was a long time ago."
"But it still hurts."
"Like i've been stabbed in the chest with a machete," he replied casually, dipping a cookie into his cocoa. "But it's getting better." He smiled softly. "I've stopped crying myself to sleep at least," he joked.
"You should open it."
He shook his head.
"Why not? He got it just for you."
"Yeah... But what if I don't like it. I can't really complain about it 40 years after the fact." He laughed lightly, holding his cup in both hands and snuggling deep into the recliner's seat. "Besides, the value of a gift isn't determined by how much it cost, but by the reasons and feelings of the person giving it. I know it sounds silly, all this sentimental bullshit."
"No, it's not silly. Well, it is, but... it isn't," Sammy said, eyeing the box as if he knew the value of what sat inside.
"Ah well. No point dwelling on it. It's just a silly little present. I'm sure he got is as a joke, really. He was always like that. At least, when it came to me anyway."
He cast AL a rueful glare before muttering under his breath.
"He was only ever nice to me when he wantes something I wouldn't let him have. Other than that, we fought all the time... even when we-" He stopped and looked down into his cup. "Sorry," he said sheepishly before regaining his composure. "Would you like some more cocoa?"
"No. I'm fine, thanks," his guest said, having watched his host bounce back and forth between pleasant to thoughtful, and down into a strange fondness as he spoke of constant fighting. Then the sudden shift back to politeness and hospitality in the last instant.
He smiled, the quiet, sentimental man hiding once more behind a mask of forced contentment. Even now that he was so close to the man who haunted him, the Bogeyman looked so lonely.
----------------------
"When you're young you think you have all the time in the world. Truth is, you don't. And you put things off. One day becomes two. Days turn into weeks... Before you know it you're old and wrinkled and there isn't any time left."
------------------------
"What do you think is in it?"
"Dunno."
"Open it."
"No."
"What if it's the big romantic gesture you've always wanted?"
"Sam? Romantic? Trust me, the world would explode before that would happen."
"It might be."
"It's not."
"How would you know? You haven't even opened it!"
"Even if it is, it doesn't matter now."
"Yes it does."
He shook his head and put it back on the shelf.
"Open it!"
"I said no." He closed the cabinet.
"but-"
"I know. But i'd rather not know than be dissapointed."
"Dissapointed?"
He nodded. "Yeah. I'm sure I'd love whatever it is. But... I want him to be there when I do, so I can either show him how much I love it or bean him in the head with it. Which... is impossible all things considered."
-----------------------------
"Everyone made him out to be this awful, cold person. But he wasn't. Not really. He could fool everyone else, but he couldn't fool me. He'd always been an asshole, but I knew it was his way of saying what he couldn't really say, even if he was drunk." He smiled warmly. "I know he'd never admit it out loud. And neither could I."
-----------------------
In fact, he truely was. He had built a wall between himself and the world that day. He had ceased being himself, and became a shell through which nothing came or went.
Desperately people tried to get him to open up. But it seemed that the more they tried, the more reclusive the once amiable man would become. At last, he had been left alone, the haunt of Devlin Manor. He'd gone about his days there the same way he had before that fateful day. He would make meals for two. Change the linens though they hadn't been slept in. He would even argue with thin air, as if his worse half had never left.
And then, the nightmares began. Night after night he would toss and turn in that queen sized bed. And each night he would wake, screaming out his name...
Only to realize he wasn't even there.
----------------------------------
"Hi, are you Abbigail?"
"yes."
He held out his hand daintily with a smile. "I'm Alice. Alice Eveline. I wrote to you a few months ago."
"Oh, yes. Come in, come in. Pardon if I don't stand and great you."
"It's quite alright, ma'am," he said, waiting for her to turn her chair around, then followed her to the sitting room.
"This is quite a lovely apartment you have Miss Abbigail."
"Please, have a seat," she said, motioning to the couch.
"Thank you," he said, pushing up his glasses.
"To what do I owe the honor that's brought someone from Al's side of the family calling on me?"
He smiled as polite as he could manage. "As I explained in my letters, my grandfather has recently passed."
"It took him long enough, the old bastard," Abbigail said.
Al bit his tongue and swallowed his pride, trying to maintain his composure. "His final wish was for Mr. Devlin's artwork to be returned to the Manor."
"Why?"
"My grandfather was very fond of your uncle, as I understand it. But I don't have any legal standing since I'm not a blood relative and the two never... made things official." He reached into his purse, pulling out a pamphlet he'd scooped up from the museum on his way over. "If you would lend me your help, I would be more than happy to provide as much funding as you need for the new African Art and Culture wing at the museum. Consider it a trade for your help."
--------------------
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"I've been where you are before. Not knowing who you are, or what you're supposed to be."
"Yeah?"
"I found what I was looking for, and at first I was happy. Overjoyed. But after a while, I realized it really wasn't what I wanted. I was where I was supposed to be, with the people I was supposed to be with... but something was missing. And I only realized what it was after it was much too late."
