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Summer Story | ||||||
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Category: Post-OotP, Buried Gems Characters:None Genres: Action/Adventure, Fluff, General Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 392 Summary: Summer at the Dursleys’ is typical for Harry Potter who hopes his stay with his relatives will only last two weeks at most. In this sequel to You’re Still You and New Year, New Hope Harry learns that his role as “savior” of the Wizarding world is more complicated than he thought and that he needs his friends and mentors more than he ever imagined. Hitcount: Story Total: 135413; Chapter Total: 4075 |
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Chapter Twenty-Five: Christmas Ginny had always thought her favourite time of year was the lazy months of summer when she could spend as much time outside enjoying the beautiful weather, regardless of the heat, as her mother would allow. However, this year the Christmas hols were her favourite. The Burrow was full of laughter despite the Darkness that shrouded the Wizarding world. More guests than ever made the ramshackle house bulge at the seams, as Dark times made people realize just how priceless their time together was. One never knew when the Death Eaters would appear. This year... Harry was here. Of course, he’d been with them last year (Ginny smiled, remembering the carved box for his Pensieve that she’d given him, while fingering the beautiful emerald earrings and necklace he’d given her), but because of the events of the summer and fall, his presence in the house was especially precious. Because he was with them, everyone was cheerier, more pranks had been played and, even though it was the same height it always was, the tree seemed bigger and brighter. Christmas Eve morning dawned bright and cold. Ginny woke to the wonderful aromas of frying bacon and baking buttermilk scones and a shaft of rare winter sunshine falling across her blankets. She dressed hurriedly to escape the chilliness of the room, making just enough noise to rouse Hermione. As her friend pushed her bushy hair from her eyes, Ginny paused at the door. “Happy Christmas Eve,” she said with a grin before hurrying downstairs to try to beat Ron and Dudley to the food. As she emerged from the stairwell, she pulled up in surprise, for her parents were placidly sitting at the table, sipping tea and perusing the morning paper. “Good morning, Ginny!” Harry called from in front of the cooker. Ginny shut her mouth with a snap and flashed him a smile. “Morning, Harry! How come you’re making breakfast?” she asked, sitting down in her usual place. “It’s Harry’s gift to me, sweetheart,” her mother said. “I can’t remember when I’ve had a more relaxing morning.” Ginny grabbed the teapot and poured herself a cup as Harry asked, “Bacon or sausage?” “Both!” Ron and Dudley answered as they joined the three at the table. Ginny giggled and added, “Just bacon, please, Harry.” Dudley grabbed the juice pitcher and filled his glass to the top. He drank the whole thing in one long gulp, than sat back with a satisfied smirk on his face. “Mmmm, good stuff. Just like when we were kids, eh Harry?” he asked. “You making breakfast, me waiting to enjoy it.” Harry shot Dudley a dirty look and said nothing. Ron glared at him and challenged, “When are you making breakfast, Dudders?” “Day after tomorrow, Boxing Day,” Dudley replied without missing a beat. Ron suddenly found his place setting very interesting. Ginny giggled and turned her attention to her mum who had put down her section of the paper and was now looking directly at Dudley. “Thank you, dear,” Mrs Weasley said, smiling at him. “It will be nice to see how well you’ve learned what we’ve covered in your cooking lessons.” Dudley’s ears turned red. “Where’s Hermione?” Mr Weasley asked, probably to cover the suddenly awkward silence. “She’ll be down in a minute,” Percy answered as he, Bill and Fleur entered the kitchen. “Happy Christmas a day early, everyone.” When everyone, including Hermione, was seated, Harry sent the platters and serving bowls he’d filled to the table and they began filling their plates. Ginny watched Harry over her tea cup as the compliments about his meal began rolling about the table: pretty soon his ears were as red as Ron’s hair. “Does anyone want to play Quidditch after breakfast?” Ginny asked the table at large. Harry’s face fell as the others enthusiastically agreed to the game and her mum commented that it might be too cold. Ginny nudged his foot under the table. When he looked up she said quietly, “Charlie’s old broom is out in the shed. You should ride it.” He gave her a wan smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks,” he muttered half-heartedly. “You don’t have to play if you don’t want to,” she replied, concerned that he was afraid to get back on a broom. “I’ll think about it,” Harry shrugged. “It won’t be the same without my Firebolt.” “I know that, but you should play anyway. It’s time you got back on a broom,” Ginny said. “Okay. I’ll play,” he said, still sounding reluctant. Everyone helped with the clean-up and then they all marched out to the broom shed to get their brooms. Ginny felt sad as Harry accepted Charlie’s old Cleansweep seven. Don’t feel sorry for me, Ginny, Harry said, opening their connection. The Firebolt served me well and it even saved Professor Dumbledore from a terrifying death. I just need some time to get over missing it. Ginny looked up into his expressive green eyes. I know, Harry. I just wish the Death Eaters hadn’t destroyed your broom. A dejected sigh escaped Harry as he shouldered the Cleansweep and started after Ron and Percy. Yeah, me, too, he agreed. They walked in silence for a bit and then Harry squared his shoulders and said, Enough! I’m going to have fun on this broom today! Ginny patted Harry’s back. That’s the spirit, Potter! We’re going to flatten Fred and George when they get here later. The group played two-a-side Quidditch all morning and into the early afternoon after Fred and George joined them. They even changed their standard rules to shake things up a bit by substituting players into and out of the match whenever one or the other side scored. This led to much laughter because no one could remember which team they were on. Eventually, they became so mixed up that someone, Ginny suspected Fred and George, started bewitching snowballs to act as Bludgers. It didn’t take long after that for the match to dissolve into a full-blown snowball fight. Dudley, who had been watching from the sidelines with Hermione, joined in to even up the sides. While his accuracy wasn’t very good, the snowballs that did hit their marks hit hard enough to hurt. Along about half past three, Mr Weasley came out to see what was going on and to invite them all back inside for hot cocoa and biscuits. Soggy and suddenly cold, the combatants dug themselves out of the snow, shouldered their brooms and traipsed back to the house arguing about whose snowball had made the biggest splat. Ginny snuggled under Harry’s arm as he walked with Ron and Hermione towards the broom shed. He seemed genuinely happy and she hoped that, even for a little while, he had been able to forget about the burdens of who he was. They were nearly there when Ron asked, “So how was it to be back on a broom?” Harry sucked in a sharp breath, his shoulders suddenly tensing. Ron must have heard him because he briefly put a hand on Harry’s shoulder and the four friends stopped walking. They stood in a small circle waiting for Harry’s answer. “Bittersweet, Ron.” “How’s that?” “Well, brilliant, but sad, too.” Ron raised an eyebrow. “I, er, had a terrific time up there, but I couldn’t help remembering that the last time I flew, Dumbledore had his broom shot out from under him and it was all I could do to stop him from falling to his death.” Harry trailed off and Ginny realized this was the first time Harry had told them anything about the day of the kidnapping. She slipped her arm more securely around his waist and hugged him to her as George walked by and clapped him on the shoulder. Ron’s face was sombre as he said sincerely, “I’m sorry I brought up bad memories, Harry.” Harry sighed heavily. “It’s all right, Ron. I had to face that memory sometime and I’d rather not face it alone.” Hermione squeezed Harry’s arm supportively. “Any time you need to talk about it, you know we’ll listen, Harry,” she said. A sad little smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Thanks. That means a lot,” he murmured, looking at each of them in turn. They said very little as they put their brooms away and headed into the kitchen to warm up. The next morning, Ginny woke to darkness, the usual pile of gifts nestled at the foot of her bed. With a squeal of glee, she rummaged through them looking for the one from Harry: she wanted to set it aside for last. She found a small package and set it apart from the others, just as Hermione emerged from beneath the blankets. The older girl smiled at her. “Happy Christmas, Ginny,” she said, pulling a large, squashy package from her pile. “Yes! My own Weasley jumper!” A moment later Hermione had pulled on a pale pink jumper accented with a maroon chevron pattern on the upper sleeves and body. “Ron’s going to like your jumper, Hermione. I think the chevrons are knitted from the same yarn Mum used on his jumper last year,” Ginny remarked, pulling on her own pale gold and emerald green sweater. Hermione giggled. “So will Harry!” When she had finished opening all her gifts except Harry’s, Ginny dressed quickly and made her bed before she ventured downstairs with it, leaving Hermione happily writing down all her presents. Harry’s good-morning kiss, when Ginny stepped off the last stair into the empty kitchen, started the day just right. “You’re up early,” he commented, leading her to the table and pulling her chair out for her. She smiled as she sat down and he poured her a cup of tea. “Too excited to sleep,” she explained. “I’ve always been an early riser on Christmas morning.” She took a sip of her tea. “How come you’re up early?” Harry made a face. “I’d forgotten how loudly Ron snores sometimes,” he said ruefully. “I finally gave up wishing I was back in Bill’s room by myself about an hour ago.” “Hermione was up late last night with her nose stuck in a huge book she brought back from Hogwarts,” Ginny remarked with a yawn. “I was afraid we’d still be up when our presents appeared on our beds.” She picked up the box she’d brought downstairs with her. “I saved yours for last,” she told him. Harry sighed heavily. “I’ll apologize now before you open it. It’s not what I really wanted to give you,” he said. Ginny paused in her careful unwrapping of his gift to give him her brightest smile. “Harry, I’ll like whatever is in here just because you gave it to me,” she said. “Well, all right, then.” She folded the paper and set it next to her saucer. She gasped when she lifted the lid and found a silver tennis bracelet lying on a square of cotton fluff. “Harry, this is gorgeous!” she exclaimed, taking it out and holding it up for closer inspection. “You like it?” he asked, sounding hopeful. Ginny held out her right wrist. “Yes! Now help me put it on, please,” she requested. Harry took the bracelet from her and fastened it around her arm. “It looks nicer than I thought it would,” he said. Ginny leaned over and gave him a hug, feeling glad when he didn’t flinch and hugged her back. “Thank you, Harry,” she said. “Have you opened my gift?” “Yes, I did. I’ve already put the photo on my bedside table,” he said, smiling at her. “Colin Creevey took it. He gave me two copies; one for you and one for me back in September. Mine’s been next to my bed at school ever since. It was a tremendous help...” Ginny trailed off, lost in the memory. She shook off the melancholy feeling as Harry’s stomach rumbled, making them both giggle. “I’ll have to thank him,” Harry said. He walked over to the work surface and stared at the small stack of recipes Mrs Weasley had left there. A slow smile spread across his face, catching Ginny’s full attention. “Want to surprise your mum again? Let’s make breakfast two days in a row.” Ginny grinned back and picked up her cup and saucer. “Yes, let’s. You’ll be one up on Dudley, you know,” she said slyly. Harry’s eyes flashed behind his glasses. “You read my mind, Ginny,” he said, his smile widening to a feral grin. He picked up the stack of recipe cards and began leafing through them. “What do you want to make? I’ll whip up some more of those scones I made yesterday.” Her mother was extremely pleased to find Ginny and Harry busily tending the cooker when she and the others came downstairs nearly an hour later. She thanked them and then donned her apron to help with the finishing touches to the meal. “Harry,” Dudley said as he reached for his fourth scone sometime later, “you’re going to be a hard act to follow tomorrow. I apologize for taking the micky out on you yesterday.” “Apology accepted,” Harry said graciously as someone knocked at the door. Mr Weasley went to answer it. He came back to the table leading Remus Lupin and Tonks and then left again to put the packages they had brought with them under the tree. Mrs Weasley whipped out her wand and conjured chairs for the newcomers. “Wotcher, everyone!” Tonks cried cheerfully and Remus added, “Happy Christmas!” They sat down and began filling the plates that Mrs Weasley sent down the table to them. “Molly, this is delicious,” Tonks said, raising a fork loaded with sausage and egg. Mrs Weasley inclined her head towards Ginny and Harry. “Don’t thank me,” she said. “Thank my daughter and Harry.” They did and Ginny stifled a titter as the tips of Harry’s ears turned a delicate shade of pink. When everyone was happily full, Ginny stood up to collect the plates. Hermione pulled out her wand and sent a parade of platters back to the work surface as Mr Weasley asked who wanted to play “elf” this year; the pile of presents under the Christmas tree was enormous and the “elf” was going to need some assistance. Ron, Fred and George volunteered and, as soon as Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Percy, Harry, Lupin, Tonks, and Mr Weasley were seated in the sitting room, they began distributing the colourful packages to their recipients. Ginny looked up from the frying pan she was scrubbing and elbowed Hermione. “Look at Dudley,” she whispered. Hermione glanced over to where Harry’s cousin stood in the doorway, staring at the organized chaos that was the sitting room. “I think he’s a little shell-shocked,” she whispered back. “I’ll go rescue him.” She put her tea towel on Ginny’s shoulder and walked into the sitting room. Ginny watched what would happen next with interest. “Where’s Dudley’s pile?” Hermione asked the room at large. George pointed to a smallish pile. “Over there.” Hermione murmured something to Dudley and led him to a spot on the floor that was separated from Harry by another huge pile of presents. Dudley’s eyes widened as he realized that Harry’s pile was three times a large as his own. Hermione returned to the kitchen as he settled himself and said not a word until the ‘elves’ finished distributing the gifts. “Ginny, Hermione, Molly, dear, we’re ready for you,” Mr Weasley called. Ginny wrung out her cloth and emptied the sink of water. “Ah, my favourite time of Christmas morning,” she remarked, following Hermione into the sitting room. “Mine, too, Ginny,” said Hermione. She spied Ron sitting on the sofa guarding two piles of presents and made her way over to him. He moved over, making room for her, while Ginny found her place between Harry and Dudley. “Enjoying yourself, Mr Potter?” she asked. “Absolutely, Miss Weasley,” he replied. “All right everyone, we’re going to take turns this year,” Mrs Weasley called out from her place on the other side of the room. A general groan went up from all corners of the room, but at least for the first two rounds everyone was polite and watched each present as it was unwrapped. Then Fred, Ginny’s most impatient of brothers at Christmas, pulled a small brightly-wrapped gift from his pile and tore off the wrapping out of turn. In the stage whisper he used every year, he held up the gift–a pair of Puddlemere United boxer shorts–and said, “Thank you, George. You’re a man after Oliver’s own heart.” The room dissolved into gales of laughter which signalled the general consensus that everyone was free to tear into the piles of gifts without waiting their turn. From her place between Mr Weasley and the Christmas tree, Mrs Weasley sighed at the lack of order and called, “Thank you, Fred, for waiting until we’ve all seen some of the gifts.” Fred called back, “My pleasure, Mum!” and dove into his pile with gusto. He extracted a box wrapped in plain brown paper, read what was written on the wrapping, and called, “You’re welcome, Harry. Have you opened yours from me yet?” just before Mrs Weasley aimed her wand at the wireless “on” switch. Another, softer, groan flew round the room as Celestina Warbeck’s voice warbled through the calls of “thank you!” and “you shouldn’t have!” and “this is exactly what I asked for!” Ginny looked up, a warm feeling filling her as she watched her family and their guests–there was nothing like Christmas to bring out the best in her family–and she noticed that both Harry and Dudley had similar expressions on their faces; both young men looked slightly bewildered, but still pleased with their presents. She smiled to herself, knowing that once the hubbub had receded Harry was going to look a lot happier. She turned to Dudley. “Having a good time?” she asked. Dudley clutched a small box containing a gift certificate to the Ottery St Mary’s book store that he’d just unwrapped: the card included with the certificate stated it was a gift from Hermione. “Yeah, I... I think,” he said vaguely. “What’s the matter? It looks like you received some very nice gifts,” Ginny commented. She genuinely was curious as to why Dudley wasn’t enjoying himself. “I did.” Dudley’s ears turned pink. “They are nice, but I... er... I’m used to getting a lot more,” he said quietly. “From your parents?” Ginny prompted. “Yes, but I didn’t get anything from them today,” he said, sounding quite sad. “Did your mum say anything about how she was sending your presents when you saw her on Monday?” she asked. Dudley sighed. “No, she didn’t. In fact, she gave me her gift that day and had me open it in front of her.” “That must have been fun to get to open something before Christmas,” Ginny commented. She smiled encouragingly at him for he didn’t seem very pleased at all. “At least you received one gift from her. Do you mind my asking what she gave you?” “It’s OK, Ginny. I don’t mind,” he said glumly. “She gave me twenty pounds wrapped in a new handkerchief and said not to expect any more gifts from them, and that Dad hadn’t wanted her to give me the money.” He put the certificate back on his pile. Stunned, Ginny murmured, “I’m so sorry she treated you like that, Dudley.” He looked up at her, his expression bleak. “I guess I should have expected her to react like that. I mean, she and Dad never remembered Harry at Christmas or if they did, they sent him something stupid like a paper clip or a tissue. I think they resent my decision to help you look for Harry, so it’s almost a given that they would treat me like they treated him for so long.” He looked so dejected that Ginny thought she should try to cheer him up. She picked up the scarf her mother had made for Dudley and handed it to him. “Dudley, take a good look at this gift,” she said, hoping that she wouldn’t come across as too overbearing. “What do you see? And who did you get it from?” Dudley studied the scarf, turning it over several times and even running his fingers through the fringe. A smile played at the corners of his mouth as he said, “It’s hand made and I got it from your mum. She made it for me, didn’t she? I... I even think I saw her making it one night.” “Dudley, Mum never makes things for strangers or people she doesn’t like,” she said. He glanced over at Mrs Weasley and then back at Ginny. He touched the sleeve of her Weasley jumper as he said, “It’s the nicest gift I’ve ever gotten.” Ginny raised an eyebrow. “No one has ever made anything for me. They’ve always gone out and purchased whatever I whinged about not having. This is the first time anybody has made something... for me.” He leaned back in his chair looking decidedly happier. “I’m sorry that I sounded like my old self,” he said finally. Ginny chuckled. “Apology accepted. Now, tell me about your other gifts...” As Fleur announced that she was opening the last of her and Bill’s joint presents, Dudley told Ginny about the other things he had received. He was pleased with Hermione’s certificate and the stationery and biros from Ginny. Fred and George had given him a small box of Wheezes. He had received a nice variety of both magical and Muggle sweets from Ron and Percy as well as a certificate to the men’s shop in Ottery St Catchpole from Bill and Fleur. The last gift he showed her was from Harry. “I don’t know how he was able to get me something so nice,” Dudley said, handing Ginny a rather large Swiss Army Knife. “The only time he’s left The Burrow was last Monday when the four of you went to Godric’s Hollow.” Ginny put a tentative hand on Dudley’s arm. “Harry’s part of our family, Dudley. He has been for a long time and when a Weasley needs help the other Weasleys figure out how solve the problem. That’s what happened with Harry’s gifts this year; he gave us a list of what he wanted to buy and we all chipped in and purchased things for him. You were on the list, so someone chose that model for you. That’s what families do, or at least what our family does for each other.” “I never thought I’d say this, but I think I’m a little jealous of Harry,” Dudley sighed. “How so?” she asked, giving the knife back. Dudley chuckled, “He’s been an honorary Weasley much longer than I have!” Ron leaned over Hermione. “When did Dudley become an honorary Weasley?” Ginny picked up Dudley’s new scarf. “Mum knitted this for him.” Nodding his head, Ron remarked, “Yep, you’re an honorary Weasley, all right, Dudley. Once Mum starts knitting for you, you’re as good as family.” Dudley grinned and turned his attention to Mr Weasley who had stood up. He cleared his throat. The others in the room quieted and waited for him. From behind the Christmas tree, he pulled one last package; a long, broom-shaped parcel wrapped in gaudy Christmas paper and tied with a very fancy bow. He cleared his throat as he stepped over to Harry and handed it to him. “Harry,” he began, “this gift is from everyone here. We all pitched in to get it for you. I know it will never replace your Firebolt, but a wizard needs transportation and we hope you like what we were able to get you.” Harry had stood up while Ginny’s father had been talking and, without opening the wrapping, threw his arms around the older wizard and hugged him tightly. They stepped back after several seconds and Harry opened the broom. “It’s a Cleansweep Eleven, just like Ron’s!” he exclaimed, looking extremely pleased. “Wow! I... I... er... thank you, all of you!” Dudley’s Boxing Day breakfast turned out to be excellent. He created a full English breakfast complete with bacon, sausage, kippers, eggs and two kinds of scones. It looked wonderful and everyone complimented him on how good it was. However, Ginny wasn’t in the mood to enjoy it. Earlier, her mother had sent her up to Ron’s room with some gifts her brother had left in the sitting room and when she reached his door, she heard Ron and Hermione arguing with Harry. She listened just long enough to realize that they were discussing another excursion without her input... again! She was about to leave the gifts outside the door and go back downstairs when she heard her name. Curious, she fished through her pockets, looking for an Extendable Ear. She didn’t have one, so she pressed her ear to the door. They were talking nearly in whispers now and she caught phrases like, “Ginny will never forgive you...” and “She’s perfectly capable...” and “you’ve got to let her fight with you.” Smiling sadly, she realized that Hermione and Ron were pleading her case to Harry. However, that didn’t make her feel any better about being left at home again. She turned abruptly and went back down to the kitchen where she pushed her breakfast around on her plate and avoided her mum’s eyes as well as Harry’s. When the breakfast dishes were done, she excused herself and spent the day in her room doing homework and avoiding all contact with her family and friends. It wasn’t until dinner that she heard that after Bill and Fleur left Harry had moved back into his room. For the sake of her own sanity and in the interest of having a good time the rest of the holiday, now that her homework was completed, Ginny pushed her resentment to the back of her mind and decided to forgive Harry... for now. The evening of 29 December, Harry, Ron and Hermione were holed up in Harry’s room again. The door was locked and sound-proofed, but not Imperturbed like the doors at Grimmauld Place had been before her fourth year. Last minute plans, she thought as she unrolled her Extendable Ear and pushed it under the door. Instantly, Hermione’s voice became crystal clear; she seemed to be trying to persuade Harry to see her point. “...dangerous to your health, Harry. At least wait until you’ve got your full strength back,” she said querulously. “I’m not waiting, Hermione,” Harry shot back. “I made a promise to Dumbledore that I’d get rid of the remaining Horcruxes as soon as I could if we were ever rescued. It’s been nearly four months since I made that promise and three months since you rescued us. That’s three months too many, Hermione, that You Know Who has had free reign over the Ministry. You read the paper this morning. They’ve already branded nearly two thousand half-bloods and Muggle-borns and sentenced a thousand more to Azkaban since October! And they’re proud of it!” Harry was nearly yelling now. “Do you want us to be thrown in jail just because of our blood status?” Hermione let out a strangled wail and Ginny heard the floorboards creak. A moment later, Ron’s voice began murmuring indistinctly. On the other side of the door, Ginny sagged against the doorjamb, feeling horrible about what she’d just heard and knowing what Harry was probably going to say next. He didn’t disappoint her. “Ron, Hermione, I need to go back to Godric’s Hollow soon,” he said in a much quieter voice. “I need you two to come with me because we’ve always faced You Know Who together. I need your strength and support to get this done, to fulfil the prophecy. Will you come with me?” It was quiet for a while and Ginny had nearly decided to roll in the Ear when Ron asked, “When are we going?” “New Year’s Eve morning, Tom Riddle’s birthday,” Harry said. “If I have to face him as a result of getting rid of those last three Horcruxes, I can’t think of a better birthday present than sending him to purgatory on the day he was born!” Ginny had heard enough. She rolled up her Extendable Ear and sprinted down the stairs to her room. Grabbing a self-inking quill from her desk drawer, she began writing furiously. Bill, You and the Order need to know this. Harry, Ron and Hermione are going to Godric’s Hollow graveyard on New Year’s Eve morning. There may be trouble if they’re not careful, so please ask all Order members to remain sober that day. I’ll let you know via that coin I gave you. Ginny She wrote a similar note to Neville. Satisfied that they would know what to do with her missives, Ginny encoded them and sent them off with Hedwig. It was midnight before the snowy owl returned, bearing two one-word answers: “Thanks.” Two days later, as the sun rose on New Year’s Eve morning, Ginny watched from her bedroom window as Harry, Ron and Hermione once again set out on an adventure that promised to result in one of three things: Harry’s death, the procurement of three Horcruxes–whatever those were–or both. She waited five minutes after a note, written in Harry’s messy handwriting, was pushed under her door. Then she quietly let herself out of the house, determined to follow the three to Godric’s Hollow to try to give them whatever protection she could provide and hoping they would all return to The Burrow safely at the end of the day. Only the owls returning from their nocturnal flights heard her Disapparate. A/N: Well, there it is... my Christmas chapter out a month early! Go figure. At least, as one of my betas wrote to me, it isn’t July or August. This was a fun chapter to write because it allowed me to explore such a range of emotions for all the principle characters. It was also fun to write Dudley trying to dig himself out of some of the holes he’d created for himself with his careless remarks. As always, a big thank you goes out to my beta team of Jedi34, GhostWriter and Aggiebell. You’ve all added a tremendous amount to the chapter and I always enjoy your comments. Thanks for all the hard work you put into this chapter. To my readers, thank you for the encouraging comments in your reviews. I appreciate every single one of them, no matter the length, and look forward to what you have to say about this chapter. Thanks for reading... |
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