Dudley Dursley and the Knights of Walpurgis - Chapter 1

[humantales.livejournal.com]

Title: Dudley Dursley and the Knights of Walpurgis
Author: humantales
Rating: PG13
Summary: After twenty years of happy normalcy, Dudley sees another letter from Hogwarts. This one is addressed to his daughter.
Author’s Note: Many thanks to MuggleProf for her beta job.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.


Author’s Notes: Many thanks to MuggleProf for all her work and help in beta-ing. Disclaimer is in the prologue.
July 2, 2018

Although it was more chaotic than he liked, Dudley Dursley couldn't help gazing happily around his breakfast table. School was out for the year and his oldest son, Rich, was home from Smeltings. Tomorrow, his wife, Sophie, would take their daughter for her school uniform; Daphne would be starting at Smeltings' sister school in the fall. Although the kids seemed determined to prove otherwise, his was a well-ordered, predictable world--just the way he liked it. A decent job, a wonderful wife, three terrific kids; there was nothing more that any sensible man could want.

The clatter of the post sent all three children racing to the front door to collect it. They came back to the kitchen, complaining that Tom had, once again, beat his older brother and sister to the door. Dudley was ignoring the morning quarrel as usual; it would die down much more quickly if he and Sophie stayed out of it, when something Tom said caught his attention.

"Daphne's got a boyfriend! Daphne's got a boyfriend!" he chanted, holding an envelope away from his sister.

"Do not!" Daphne insisted, trying to get the envelope from her brother.

"Then who would send you mail?" Tom asked. "And in such a funny-looking envelope?"

Dudley held out his hand and Tom, with no more than a token protest, handed over the envelope. It was as Dudley had feared; he'd first seen one of these nearly thirty years ago. He carefully looked up at his daughter; was she one of Them? And, really, did it matter? Mum and Dad would have said it did, but Dudley had stopped accepting their judgments without question while still in his teens. His breakfast was finished; Sophie was just finishing her tea. Keeping his hold on the envelope, he walked over to the telephone and dialled his office. "Good morning, Jeannie. Yes, it's Dudley Dursley . . . Look, I'm not feeling very well; is there anything urgent on my schedule for today? . . . No?. . . Great; then I'm taking a sick day. . . No, if you need anything, you can ring me at home. Thanks."

He hung up the telephone and looked at his family, who were staring at him as if he'd been replaced with an alien. He hadn't ever taken a sick day unless the doctor had insisted. "Let's finish up our breakfasts and clean up. Then we can deal with the letter."

Sophie poured the two of them more tea while the kids cleaned up the kitchen. Then, at Dudley's insistence, they moved to the lounge. Still holding the envelope, Dudley looked at Daphne. "I may be completely wrong about what this means, in which case, we'll just take a family day and not worry any more about it. If I'm right . . ." He couldn't finish the sentence. The look Rich was giving him made him think of that Sunday so many years ago. "Daddy's going mad, isn't he, Mum?" he'd asked his mother. He hoped he was handling things better as he handed Daphne her letter.

"What funny paper!" she said as she opened the envelope. Inside were two sheets of that strange, thick paper and a smaller envelope. Opening the top sheet, she read,

HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Pernell Higginbotham

Dear Miss Dursley,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Aurora Sinistra,
Deputy Headmistress

"Oh, this is stupid! There's no such thing."

"Quite right you are," Sophie said briskly. "We'll just bin it and go on-"

"No, we won't," Dudley said. He didn't care what his parents would say; he loved his daughter and she wasn't a freak! "It's real. There is magic and Hogwarts is a real school. My cousin went there, and so did his mum. Sweetheart, what's on the second page?"

Wide-eyed, Daphne read it all. "It's a list of school supplies. A cauldron? And I can bring a cat, a toad or an owl, but I can't bring a broom. Daddy, are you teasing me?"

"What's the envelope?" Sophie asked.

"It's addressed to you and Daddy," Daphne answered, and handed the envelope to her mother.

Sophie opened the second envelope and read aloud,

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley,

Ordinarily, we would send someone to explain about Hogwarts to the family of a new Muggleborn student; however, since you're aware of the Wizarding world, we didn't feel it was necessary. If you would prefer a personal visit, please sign this letter below.

"But they haven't given us an envelope, or a telephone number, or even a return address. How are we supposed to contact these people?"

Dudley walked over and took the note while the boys were reading Daphne's letter and adding their own commentary. Since they weren't being nasty, or no nastier than brothers ever were to their sisters, Dudley let them be. He suspected he knew what would happen when they signed the letter. "Do we want a personal visit? I think we probably should."

"Since this is all completely new to me, I'd say we need one. What about you?" To Dudley's relief, Sophie no longer sounded bewildered. She was beginning to sound annoyed, and at him, not at Daphne. He was beginning to think everything would be all right.

Picking up a pen, he considered what to say. His eyes fell on the collection of photographs on the mantel and he knew exactly what to say. He started writing. Tom came over, apparently bored with teasing his older sister, and read over Dudley's shoulder, "Please send Harry Potter. Not the giant bloke. Dudley Dursley" As soon as Dudley signed his name, the paper vanished. He looked at his family. "Hard to say how long it will take. If we haven't heard anything by evening, I'll write Harry myself."

Sophie, no fool, had noticed his look at the mantelpiece. "Harry Potter," she said as she walked over to it and picked up one of the five nicely framed wedding photographs there. The one in the middle was theirs and there was one each for her sister and her brothers. Each one had a smaller photograph of the couple and any children they had next to it; the latest Christmas card picture. The fifth was Harry's, with his pretty red-haired wife. There was a Christmas photograph there as well: Harry, his wife, two boys and a girl. Every year, he was relieved to see that Harry had again not sent one of the moving photos that they used.

"Does this mean you'll finally explain the problem between the two of you?" Sophie asked, exasperated as always when this subject came up. Sophie had a large close family; in addition to her siblings, she had a lot of cousins with whom she spoke regularly. It had bothered her ever since she'd been writing out their wedding invitations that Harry was never invited to any family gathering. Dudley had told her the truth, if not all of it; that Vernon and Petunia Dursley and Harry Potter in the same room was a recipe for disaster. When she'd pressed for more information, he'd told her that the subject was very painful and that he'd prefer not to discuss it.

"Harry's a wizard," he said. Sophie sat down abruptly and all three kids got quiet. "His mother was my mother's younger sister; when she was Daphne's age, she got a Hogwarts letter, too. Mum didn't." He took a deep breath. He hadn't really thought about any of this in years; the only contact he'd had with Harry since just after he'd turned eighteen was Christmas cards, wedding announcements and birth announcements. It was something he didn't want to deal with; parenthood had convinced him, once and for all, that Harry had been terribly wronged growing up and he'd never known what to do about it. "Mum hated it. I'm not sure whether she always believed it was . . . or if she was just jealous, but she hated magic. And her sister. So, my Aunt Lily married a man from Hogwarts and, after I was born, they had a baby. Harry. Then, just over a year later, they were killed. Murdered."

"Murdered?" Sophie asked. "Will Daphne be in danger? Because if she is-"

"I want to go!" Daphne spoke up. "I want to learn magic!"

"We won't send you where you aren't safe," Dudley said firmly. Sophie relaxed while Daphne scowled. "As far as what happened to Harry's parents, I'm not really sure. Mum would never discuss it or let Harry. After they died, he came to live with us. We, he didn't get treated well. I . . ." Dudley closed his eyes, feeling the heat rise to his face. "I used to beat him up, all the time. Mum and Dad had him doing all kinds of chores and stuff and, well, they never treated him like family. Then, Sophie, don't get upset. I know Harry would make sure we're safe if anything was going on."

"Why?" Tom asked. "Sounds to me like he'd be happy if we got hurt."

Hard as it was to say, Dudley did. "Harry's a better person than that. He didn't like us, but he made sure we were safe. As safe as he could. When he and I were seventeen, he and his lot thought the wizard who killed his parents might come after us to get at him. They protected us, guarded us, for nearly a year, until the bad wizard was stopped. Killed, I think."

"Why would he go after a teenager?" Sophie asked.

Dudley shrugged. "I don't know. When we were kids . . . I've talked more with Harry through Christmas cards than we ever did as kids. I never really asked."

"I don't believe it," Rich said.

"Believe what?" Dudley asked.

"That you treated him badly. Grandma and Grandpa, maybe, but you're too good a person to bully anyone."

Dudley wished he could accept his son's unquestioning belief, but it wouldn't be right. Especially if Harry did come back into his life. He'd worked so hard. . . "Now, you're right. I wouldn't. When I was fifteen, a magical thing, a," Dudley thought for a moment, "a Dementor attacked us. I couldn't stop it, that requires magic. Harry could and, even though I'd just punched him, he did. Fought it off and got me home. Half carried me. Once I got over the shock of it all, I realized what he'd done. What he'd risked; what he did. He could have been killed, but he didn't run. He stayed and he saved me. It made me think and, eventually, it made me change. Who I am now, someone I hope you lot can be proud of, that night had a lot to do with it. Harry never really got to see it, though; he only spent summers with us after he started at that school and, well, he'd leave as soon as he could. I think he only stayed at all because there was some magic spell keeping him safe when he was with us. Safe from bad magic, anyway. Not safe from us."

Sophie reached out to stroke his arm. "At least you realized you did have to change. I don't think I could have loved the man you were becoming, but I can certainly love the man you did become."

Rich was pale. "No wonder you get so angry when someone littler than me gets hurt. But, you know, Tom makes it look worse than it is. All the time."

Dudley rolled his eyes. "We're not discussing you and your brother now. But you're right; that's why I work so hard to treat you lot the same. I want my children to know they're loved. All my children. No matter what."

Daphne threw herself onto his lap. "You won't hate me if I'm a witch?"

"Absolutely not," Sophie said. "We love you. And you, Rich. And you, Tom." She reached over to kiss both boys on the cheek. Tom smiled and cuddled into her side, while Rich winced and wiped his cheek, complaining.

While they were sitting there quietly, an owl came through the window. Before Sophie or the kids could shoo it out the window, Dudley took hold of it and took the letter from its beak. While it stood on the back of the couch, waiting, he opened and read the note.

Dear Dudley,

Before I speak with the rest of your family, I would like to speak just with you in private. I can't do so today; however, I am free tomorrow after four or so. Please send the owl back with a note as to time and place.

Harry Potter

Dudley stared at the note, feeling a little sad. It wasn't quite the acceptance he'd hoped for, but it wasn't a rejection either. A further thought cheered him up: Harry probably just wanted to make sure that he wouldn't treat Daphne as his parents had treated Harry. He wrote back with the name of the local pub and seven in the evening and hoped it would be enough.

July 3, 2018

Harry stood at the entrance to the pub, wishing it were The Golden Snidget. Still, Dudley would probably be as uncomfortable there as Harry was here, and Harry was hoping for a good result out of the evening. So, here it was.

He pushed open the door and looked around. After a minute, he saw Dudley waving to him from a booth near the back. Harry blinked. The Christmas cards Dudley sent had made it clear that Dudley wasn't a carbon copy of Vernon Dursley. He'd slimmed down and seemed to have a nicer smile, instead of the superior smirk Uncle Vernon had always had on those rare occasions when he did smile. Still, Harry had been expecting Uncle Vernon's glare, not this pleasant smile and hopeful expression. Maybe, just maybe, things would work out.

Walking over, he extended his hand. "Evening, Dudley. How's it going?"

Dudley shook Harry’s hand and gestured to the bench opposite himself. "Not bad. Hoping we're not about to be descended upon by flocks of owls. None this morning, so that's a good start." He poured a mug from a pitcher already on the table. "It's the local brew. Good. If you don't like it, you can have whatever. Thought we'd be more private this way."

Harry sat down and took a sip. "Wow, this is good. Even better than the Snidget's." He set the mug down and tried to order his thoughts. "First, you're not going to get flocks of owls." Grinning, he added, "Well, not until the boys at Hogwarts meet Daphne. She's quite the pretty girl; she's likely to be popular. I got lots of them with my Hogwarts letter because your parents kept destroying them, and Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster back then, wasn't going to accept that I not come to Hogwarts. That's why they eventually sent Hagrid. He's the 'giant bloke'. Daphne's a different case. You and your wife--Sophie, right?--have every right to keep Daphne out of Hogwarts. Thomas, too, in two years when he gets his letter."

Dudley interrupted him. "So, Tom is a wizard? I've been wondering. Kind of hoping I was wrong, but, well, strange things happen around him."

Damn. Harry had been hoping Dudley would be better than Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia about this. "Yes, Thomas is a wizard. And you don't have to send them to Hogwarts, but strange things are going to keep happening if they don't learn how to use their magic." He decided to see what Dudley had to say.

It took a while. Dudley had grown up, and done a good job of it from what Harry could see, but he still didn't think fast. Finally, he said, "What's it like? Hogwarts, I mean, not magic."

"Hogwarts is great!" Harry said. "It's even better now than when I went, since Voldemort is gone and no new evil wizards have come to take his place."

"There aren't any bad wizards?" Dudley asked, his eyes wide.

Harry winced. "Don't I wish! No, we have our criminals and low-lifes, just like you do. It's just that we don't have an evil madman who has a good chance of taking power. With any luck, we won't see another one of those for quite some time. I'd say ever, but . . ."

"But that's too much to ask," Dudley said. He looked relieved. "So, what's it like? And I'll warn you, you'll have to explain it all over again for Sophie. Y'know, if you'd just come to the house, you'd only have to explain it once. She's the smart one anyway."

"If things go well tonight," Harry said, "which it looks like they will, Ginny wanted me to invite your family over for the weekend. Her parents are having their annual Hogwarts Letter picnic on Sunday and you'll get to see how wizards live."

"That sounds like just what Sophie would want. She's been asking me questions since yesterday morning and mostly I have to answer 'I don't know.'" He flushed a little. "Er, Harry, I haven't told my parents yet. I, I don't want," Dudley took a deep breath and said in a rush, "I don't want them to hurt Daphne. Or treat her like a freak. I don't know what to do."

"I certainly don't know either," Harry said. The knots that had been in his shoulders since Professor Sinistra had Floo'ed him yesterday were starting to ease. Dudley wasn't going to treat his daughter as he'd treated Harry; that was the important thing. In fact, Harry was pretty sure that Daphne would be going to Hogwarts in September. Assuming that Sophie could be convinced that it was best for her. "Maybe that she's your daughter and not me will help. Your mum, at least. I don't know if anything will help your dad." He reminded himself of the promise he'd made himself. "It might be better if we don't discuss them; I'm trying really hard to be nice, and I'm not sure I can be about them. Too much water."

To Harry's surprise, Dudley grinned at that. "Yeah, Tom wanted to know why you bothered keeping us safe. I had to admit you were the better man. Can you hear Dad if he'd heard that?"

Harry shuddered. Maybe Dudley could find the humour, but Harry suspected Uncle Vernon would still try to hit him if he heard a remark like that. Of course, Harry wasn't defenceless any more--he could more than hold his own against Vernon Dursley--but his gut wasn't at all convinced. "I'll take a pass, thanks. So, Hogwarts."

Dudley held up his hand. "Harry, please come home with me. Sophie's likely to make me sleep on the sofa if I don't bring you home tonight. And the kids are all dying to hear stories about Hogwarts. Daphne'd probably try to figure out how to turn me green. Or magic you there so she can talk your ear off. She went to the library yesterday and took out every book about magic she could find. She's talking about elves and magic horses and lions and . . ."

Harry groaned. Whenever possible, he avoided talking to the new Muggleborn students for exactly this reason. Having to explain that Middle-earth and Narnia didn't exist--really, truly--gave him a headache. And where did the magic horses come from? "If I come, can we keep the fictional magic to a low roar? Please? Because, really, anything she can get out of the library is fiction, I swear."

"The sooner you tell her, the fewer ideas she'll get into her head," Dudley said with a grin. "Which is for the best. Determined to make the world over the way she thinks it should be, that one."

"Great," Harry said. "Another Hermione. OK, lead the way."

Dudley's home didn't look that different from the house they'd grown up in, but there were obvious differences even from the outside. Although one of the cars in the driveway was a nice sedan that Uncle Vernon would have been proud of, the other was a minivan, with a Smeltings sticker on the rear window, that looked as if it saw a lot of use. The flowerbeds weren't the carefully regimented ones that Aunt Petunia had; they were neat but overflowing with colour. Harry couldn't quite put his finger on it, but instead of the neatness and order of Vernon and Petunia Dursley, Dudley and Sophie Dursley's home seemed welcoming and comfortable.

As they walked in the door, they were greeted by four people who appeared to have been waiting right there. After a few minutes of confusion, Dudley put his fingers to his mouth and whistled sharply. Into the quiet he said, "Give the man room to breathe."

"Yes, let's show Daddy's cousin that we're civilised human beings and not wild animals," Sophie said. Turning to Harry, she offered her hand. "I'm Sophie Dursley, Dudley's wife, and I've been dying to meet you. For years, actually. Let me take your coat, and the kids can show you to the lounge." She gave a stern look at the kids. "What would you like to drink?"

"It's nice to meet you, Sophie," Harry answered. "You know, you're even more beautiful in person than you are in your photographs. You didn't have to hide her, Dudley," he said, "I'm quite in love with Ginny. I wouldn't have tried to steal her."

The younger two groaned, but the older boy gave Harry a sharp look. Sophie flushed and walked into the kitchen with his jacket, while Dudley chuckled. "That one makes up her own mind," he said. "Beer, ale, or would you like something stronger?"

"Whatever you're having," Harry said. He winked at the older boy, who relaxed a little. "Now, I know this lovely lady is Daphne. Let's see. You're," he nodded at the older boy, "Richard and this young man is Thomas; am I right?"

"It's Rich and Tom," Rich said. "Lounge is this way."

Once they'd all settled in, and Dudley had handed Harry a glass of what turned out to be whiskey, Harry looked around. "Why don't we start with your questions? Sophie's first," he said, before the kids could start with theirs.

"Is Hogwarts safe?" The look she gave him reminded him strongly of Professor McGonagall.

"As safe as it can be made," Harry said, on familiar ground. "Learning how to use magic has risks, and kids don't always follow the rules that are there for their protection. And there's no way to make flying completely safe, but-"

"Do you really use brooms to fly?" Daphne asked, her eyes shining. "Can you use any broom, or are there special ones? We have a really nice broom--"

"Daphne," Dudley said firmly, "you interrupted. Harry was talking and he's a guest. Now, apologize."

"Sorry," Daphne said, her whole body slumping.

With a glance at Sophie, who smiled and nodded, Harry answered, "Yes, we really use brooms to fly, but they're special brooms. They're made specifically for the type of flying needed and they have lots of charms and spells on them, to make them more comfortable and safer. Now, as I was saying," he gave the little girl a stern look, and then focused back on her mother, "flying can't be made completely safe, but we do our best. It's no more dangerous at Hogwarts than at any other school, and we're safer than many."

"What about this war, or whatever it was?" Sophie looked at Dudley. "Dudley couldn't explain much, but it didn't sound so safe to me."

"It's over," Harry said. "I, it's hard for me to talk about, but it's over. The only place Daphne may ever have to worry about it is in History of Magic. If they ever get anyone but Binns to teach it. He's a ghost," he said to Daphne in an aside.

Dudley and Sophie exchanged looks. "I still want to know more about it, but I'll let the kids ask you questions for a bit," she finally said.

For the next two hours, Harry answered questions about Hogwarts and the Wizarding world. To his relief, even though he made it clear to Rich that he wasn't a wizard, he didn't seem to mind and had almost as many questions as his two younger siblings.

When Sophie called the younger two to help her clean up, Harry asked, "Rich, are you okay with this? It can't be easy--"

Rich shook his head. "Dad and I had a long talk about this yesterday. I'm a lot like him, you know, and . . ." He was quiet for a minute, seeming to grope for words. "I like things simple. Magic seems complicated. The more you talk, the more complicated it sounds. I like Smeltings. I have friends there, I enjoy stuff there. I don't want to change everything. Daphne and Tom, they'll be happier with kids like them. Me, I'm happier with kids like me. Okay?"

Harry grinned. He could see Dudley's pride in his oldest son, a justifiable pride. "Sounds good to me. I couldn't help but worry; I know what it's like, being the different one."

Rich grinned. "I may be the different one, but I'm the bigger one. And they can't use magic until they're grown-up; Dad told us yesterday. So, I'm good."

Harry laughed. "Good."

After answering what felt like a million questions, most of them several times, Harry finally stood up. "Look, I have to go to work in the morning and I have to get some sleep." Before Sophie could do more than start to apologize, Harry held up his hand. "This'll all make more sense when you've seen it. So, Ginny has invited the five of you to spend the weekend with us. We can go to Diagon Alley to get Daphne's school supplies, you can see what a Wizarding house is like and, on Sunday, Ginny's parents are having a big picnic to welcome the Hogwarts kids home and congratulate the ones who just got letters, and they've invited you. Can I say you'll come?"

Sophie looked at Dudley who started to nod and stopped. "Ginny's family, they're the ones who picked you up that time? With the candy?"

Harry winced. "Yeah, those were her brothers. They were, well, you didn't treat me well back then and they were experimenting on their product line. You won't need to worry about the food; Mum'll keep George in line."

"And the other one?"

"Fred was killed during the war," Harry said. "So it's just George you have to worry about and, I promise, he really has grown up."

Sophie looked at Dudley. "Candy?"

Dudley shook his head. "Never mind. Bad memory." When he saw she wasn't going to let it go, he said, "They dropped this candy that I picked up and it made my tongue swell. Their dad fixed it, though. Still--"

"George won't do anything of the kind," Harry said, reminding himself to have a long, stern talk with George.

"Where do you live?" Sophie asked.

It suddenly hit Harry how difficult it would be for the Dursleys to find them. "I'll come here and bring you. That'll be easier than your trying to find us. Friday half-seven, then?"

"Friday at seven-thirty," Sophie confirmed. "What should we bring?"

"Yourselves," Harry said. "And enough clothes for the weekend. Nothing fancy; we won't be doing anything that requires dress r-, er, fancy clothes." And with a kiss from Sophie, a handshake from Dudley and hugs from the kids, Harry left, looking forward to the coming weekend.

July 4, 2018

Sophie found the whole situation very nerve-wracking. She didn't want to think about what it was doing to Dudley's blood pressure; between his fear of magic, which he'd finally admitted to her, and his near ignorance of the magical world, he didn't know what to expect, and Dudley liked things nice, settled and predictable.

Rich, fortunately, was being calm about the whole thing. He'd taken the attitude that it didn't directly involve him, so the only thing he needed to worry about was ensuring Daphne's protection while at Hogwarts. If she went, a caveat Sophie found herself repeating a dozen times a day. Daphne wouldn't be going until Sophie and Dudley were convinced it was safe.

Tom was interested, but it was a couple of years in the future for him, so he wasn't getting too excited. Sophie hoped he'd wait until he actually got his letter before he got excited; two years of Tom being extremely excited was more than she wanted to cope with.

Her real problem, unsurprisingly, was Daphne. After two solid days of speculation, Sophie finally snapped and said, "Why don't you write all these things down so you can remember them when we visit the Potters over the weekend?" That had sent Daphne off happily to compile her list; Sophie hoped the Potters would forgive her.

Thinking about it, Sophie realised it was actually a pretty good idea. She pulled out pen and paper and started to think.

July 5, 2018

Judith put down her Bible, leaving it open at Exodus 22:18. There was a bookmark at Deuteronomy 18:10 as well. She was grateful for concordances; it would have taken her forever to find the first passage without hers, and she wouldn't have known about the second.

She picked up the letter again and read it, then all of the material that Mr. Malfoy had left. He'd seemed nice enough, willing to answer any questions they had, offering to take them to the shopping area for Matt's school supplies.

She turned to the computer to look at the search she'd done earlier, for the meaning of "Malfoy". Bad faith. With a sigh, she read over the letter she'd written, signed it, and got it ready to post. He was supposed to be an expert; she hoped he'd know what to do about the evil that her son contained.

Standing, she straightened up the kitchen and began to prepare dinner. Before she returned her Bible to its place on her bedside table, she looked at that unforgiving verse once more. "Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live."

Next

Comments

[mab84.livejournal.com]

Nice and juicy first chapter!
Excellent character development. You really make them come alive!
I'm glad I don't have to wait to read more.

[humantales.livejournal.com]

Thanks; I'm glad you're enjoying it.

[star54kar.livejournal.com]

Wow!

*rushes to read the next part*