Remus is quite cheerful too.
Chapter Twenty: Pumpkin Juice
[Remus]
“I tell you what, guys, this Christmas is just going to be genius,” James announces from under his bed.
“Genius, huh, Prongs? How so?” asks Sirius from under his bed. Why do they always leave their packing until the very last second? I watch Peter desperately trying to close his trunk from my bed, feeling rather smug that my neat trunk has been packed and ready since this morning.
“Well. I’m not sure yet. But how could it not? Whoever thought up Christmas was just ... just ...”
“Genius?” I supply.
“Exactly.”
I shake my head and smile. Simple things for simple minds. How is it that James can be both top of the year and a complete idiot at the same time?
“So, what theme are you thinking next term, Prongs?” I ask, looking around the room. It’s been fun having James change round our dorm every couple of months. You stop taking everything for granted. Although thankfully we didn’t have to put up with the cheeses for long.
“I’m not sure,” James says, still rooting around under his bed. “I was thinking maybe rainforests.”
“Um ... wouldn’t that be a bit ... green? We don’t really want to go down that road, do we?”
“Good point. Hey look, a Galleon! I knew this was a good idea.”
“You know, Moony, you could help us instead of sitting there,” Sirius’s right foot suggests lightly. Or at least I presume it’s his right foot, because everything else has disappeared in the depths under his four-poster. Just what is it he’s looking for anyway? Besides spare Galleons, which he isn’t exactly desperate for.
“That’s all right,” I say. “I wouldn’t want to strain myself or something. I hear it can be quite strenuous to leave everything until the last moment. What are you looking for under there anyway? Is it really so important to clear under your bed? We’re coming back in a couple of weeks anyway.”
“You’re just not very organised, Moony. Besides, I don’t trust these house-elves.”
I roll my eyes, not that anyone can actually see them. “Oh, well, I’m sure you’d rather make your own fires in the evenings and wash your own sheets and cook your own food. Yeah, that would be much more preferable. What’s not to trust?”
“Nothing. I love house-elves. I just needed an excuse as to why I’ve managed to get myself stuck under here.”
“Stuck? You idiot.”
“Are you going to help me, or what?”
“I think I’ll sit here and laugh for a while. Do you mind?”
James wriggles out from his own bed, looking a whole new level of dishevelled (and I’ve seen him in the mornings) and laughs as Sirius’s feet start tap dancing, even though the rest of him is concealed.
“You’re right, Moony,” James says. “This is hilarious.”
The feet stop dancing. “You call yourselves Marauders? I’m in a serious dilemma here and you just sit there and laugh. I’m being bullied. My rights are being abused. Wormtail, what’s your stand on all this?”
Peter finally shuts his trunk and looks over. Sirius’s trunk is practically empty and his things are strewn everywhere. Even James is nearly finished.
“That you’re a cropping idiot,” Peter says eventually. James and I both laugh loudly, because it’s true.
“Come on, guys, or we’ll never get home,” I say and slide off my bed to wander over to Sirius’s. I begin organising his things and placing them into his trunk, heavy books first so they don’t crease any clothes underneath. James and Peter come over to help, albeit a little less carefully than me.
When we finish, Sirius manages to free himself, then stands and brushes himself off carefully.
“I knew I could get you guys to do it for me somehow,” he says, grinning. James picks up a pillow and throws it at him and the carefully made beds soon descend, naturally, into chaos.
But never mind. It was a little creepy seeing everything so neat anyway.
[Marty]
As usual, I am the only one organised enough to be sitting on my bed watching everyone else struggle. Even Lily, who is normally quite on top of things, has left the packing a little late.
“So have you decided what you’re doing yet, Marty?” she asks as she hurriedly “ but still methodically, of course “ transfers her possessions from her bedside drawer to her trunk.
“I just don’t know,” I wail. “I’ve barely thought of anything else since I realised, but what am I supposed to do? How do I know for certain he likes me back? What if it’s all a big mistake? I mean, has anyone ever actually heard him say it?”
Lily stops packing for a moment to stare at me. “I meant about going back to Taffy’s.”
“Oh.” I blush furiously. Well, can I really help it if I presume she’s talking about Remus? That decision has weighed on my mind much more heavily lately than going back to my old home. “I don’t know what I’m going to do about that, either.”
“You should definitely snog his face off,” Phyll says.
At the same time, Mary advises me, “I think you should go home with your aunt.”
I decide to stick with Mary’s conversation path, as Phyll’s is never going to end without embarrassment.
“But it’s so hard,” I say.
“No it’s not, it’s easy,” Phyll says. “Just go up to him, grab his robes in your fists and “”
“Not that,” I say quickly. “Going home. There are so many memories.”
“But good ones,” Lily points out. “One night of bad against a whole life of good. And didn’t you say your aunt was still living with that Garfield guy, anyway? So you wouldn’t even be there at night, would you?”
I consider this. It’s true, of course. But Garfield’s ancient and cold cottage is no more appealing than the renovated café. And the memories there aren’t of death, but of grief, which is hardly much better.
“I mean, look at it this way, Marty,” Mary says, whilst trying desperately to squeeze everything leftover into a tiny uninhabited space in her trunk. “You could spend your entire life avoiding that place, as it gets more and more of a taboo in your mind and you turn it into the worst place you could ever go, making returning there three hundred times harder than if you just got it over with now. And you’ll also see much less of your aunt and you’ll start missing her as much as she must be missing you. Won’t you? You can’t depend on Remus for the rest of your life. Especially when it means you hardly see anything of your aunt. You’ll start thinking of her as a taboo eventually, too.”
This is all true, but it might also be being said a little too late. I already can’t think of the café or Aunt Tabby without thinking of the loss of my mother.
“You can’t distance yourself from your family,” Roxie says. As usual, she can sum up an entire speech in one simple sentence.
“I just don’t know,” I sigh.
“Well, how about helping us close some of these trunks then?” asks Phyll, sounding a little irritated. But we all know by now never to take that personally.
I smile broadly and laugh. “Nah. It’s much more fun to watch everyone else struggle.”
[Remus]
Once everyone’s trunks are safely out of harms way and the cage containing my owl, Chudley (don’t even ask), is in no danger of falling off anything, we collapse into our seats. Those trunks really are as heavy as they look.
“Thanks guys,” Lily says. “Although you didn’t have to do ours too. We’re perfectly capable of handling our own luggage.”
“What kind of gentlemen would we be if we left you ladies to struggle alone?” Sirius demands in his best ‘gentleman’ voice. “Dubious ones, at the very least.”
“A little suspect, really,” James agrees.
“Quite questionable,” Sirius concurs, nodding.
“You already are those sorts of gentlemen,” Luanne points out. James merely grins at her.
“You know it’s been a whole term since I adopted you?” he asks. “Hasn’t it been fun? Didn’t I ease your fear and guide you through hardships well?”
“And embarrass me every chance you got, yes. It was all very realistic.”
“You have changed a lot, though,” Marty says. “I’ve been recording James’s progress as a father for The Book and when we first met you, you were just as terrified as any other first year.”
“I remember that!” James cries. “You were the last one to be sorted and it was taking ages, so when it was finally over I swore in front of you accidentally.”
“And then kept trying to make it up to me by being helpful, but really you just scared me more.”
“But only at first,” Marty insists. “Eventually you came right out of your shell and turned out to be a match for him after all. It was all very exciting to record.”
“Speaking of which,” Luanne says. “How come you never interviewed me for The Book?”
Marty looks taken aback. “That’s a good point. It would give a very interesting perspective on the whole relationship, wouldn’t it? If I had an interview with you, I could probably flesh out an entire chapter on James as a father. What a good idea!”
She begins to set up a little area where she and Luanne can conduct the interview, brushing Peter and Sirius out of the way as she dives into her bag to retrieve her notebook and a quill. She seems a little surprised to notice us watching her.
“Well, have your own conversations,” she says and shakes her head disbelievingly at the thought of us trying to listen.
I clear my throat. “Uh ... so ... you’re going to James’s again, right Sirius?”
“Of course,” he says, still watching Marty and Luanne but trying not to.
“Shouldn’t a parent be present during this interview since she’s a minor?” asks James.
“So are you,” Marty points out. “So no.”
“But how will I know what she’s saying about me?” he whines. Luanne and Marty give him scarily similar looks of disdain.
“Wait until The Book comes out,” Marty says and turns back to Luanne. They lean in closer so as not to be heard.
“The cheek!” James fumes. “Abominable!”
“Just leave them, Prongs, they’ll be back soon,” I say. “I’m sure Luanne won’t come to any harm.”
“In the meantime, Remus, you are going to make sure she goes back to ...” Lily glances over at the two and lowers her voice. “To Taffy’s, right?”
I swallow. In truth, I’ve been trying to avoid thinking about that. On the one hand, I want her to go back to her aunt’s so that I can avoid any romantic messiness by the firelight when my parents pointedly leave us alone, as I’m sure they will do. On the other hand ... well, I’ll miss her. It was nice having someone my own age around, like the sister I never had. Only, let’s face it. She’s not like a sister anymore.
“I guess,” I say eventually. “That would probably be best.”
“Of course it would. If she doesn’t go back now, she never will. She’s left it far too late as it is. She should of gone straight back as soon as it was restored in the summer.”
“She didn’t want to,” Sirius says, obviously picking up on the slightly accusatory note in her voice. “We told her she could, but she wouldn’t hear of it.”
“Of course she wouldn’t, but you should have made her go anyway. The only way to get over your fears is to immerse yourself in them, right?”
“She trusted us,” James insists. “Come on, Lily, you don’t think we’d really do that to her, do you? Sometimes you are much harder than you ought to be.”
“You mean than you think I ought to be. You know, you can’t accept it, James, can you, that I have more backbone than you do?”
“Why would I want a backbone of steel if it meant I couldn’t bend the rules once in a while?”
“There’s bending rules and there’s breaking them. You know, why don’t you just “”
“Okay, ladies,” Sirius says loudly (“See what I mean?” mutters Lily). “Let’s not disrupt the peace.”
“We’re not disrupting anything,” James points out. “This is normal.”
Sirius sighs. “More’s the pity. Let’s clear this up. Lily is very brisk and likes to do things by the book, such as exposing fears straight away to cure them. Prongs is a little more lenient and as long as the result is the same, it doesn’t really matter how you got there and which rules were broken along the way. Am I right?”
“Maybe,” Lily mutters quietly.
“As bleeding always,” James agrees under his breath.
“But you both want the same thing?” Peter asks. “Don’t you? To help Marty?”
“Peter!” Lily hisses, glancing wildly over at the interview. “Ssssh!”
“Sorry. But it’s true?”
“Well,” James says, shrugging. “I suppose so.”
“Then what does it matter?” asks Sirius. “Hey, I know. Remus, you go with her. You’re closest to her, aren’t you?”
For once, there isn’t an innuendo that can be sniffed a mile off. “Yes, probably.”
“Then you go with her and keep her company. Sounds like a plan to me. You can help her go inside and say hello and reacquaint herself and things.”
“And,” Peter says. “She could stay with you in the evenings. Work there in the day, stay with you later. That will keep her out of her aunt’s friend’s cottage that she hates so much, but she’d still see her aunt every day.”
I bite my lip with worry as I think about it. It’s a good plan. She wouldn’t be around during the day, which would be good, but in the evenings ... and the fireplace ... and the atmosphere ... still. If she’s going to be facing her fear ... well, why shouldn’t I?
“Okay,” I say, nodding. “Sounds like a plan.”
“What does?” asks Marty, as she and Luanne join us again.
“We’re going to get James and Lily together,” I say quickly, not wanting her to think we’ve made up her mind for her. She has to believe that was her own idea or she’ll never agree to it. “Since it might shut them up for a while.”
“Hey!” Lily and James both say at the same time.
“Really?” Luanne asks, laughing. “So you could be my mother, Lily? That would be pretty cool. You might be able to talk him out of peeping at innocent first years and things.”
James goes very red all of a sudden. “I was not peeping!” he insists. “I was checking on security!”
“Of course you were, mate,” Sirius says, laughing.
“I was! Moony told me to!”
“No, I told you to make sure you gave Robertson the ole ‘touch my daughter and die’ speech, which resulted in a black eye. Not to peep on the first years which resulted in a week’s worth of detentions.”
“I wasn’t peeping!”
“Sorry. ‘Checking on security’. Of course.” I make sure that the quotation marks can be detected a mile off.
“Well, it didn’t work anyway,” Luanne says, laughing. “Because that night I was perfectly able to climb out of the window and visit him myself. I don’t live up to clichés.”
We know she is joking (or at least, everyone but James does) but this only makes it funnier and as James’s head begins to explode, we can do nothing but clutch our sides in hysterics.
[Marty]
The train journey is over too soon and I know what’s waiting for me. When I didn’t reply to the letter from Aunt Tabby “ right back at the start of November “ she eventually sent another one, explaining that she had contacted the Lupins and arranged that they should pick me up from the station and I could come when I wanted. This suits me just fine.
The guys get down our trunks for us, still claiming that it makes them worthy as ‘gentlemen’ and we slowly make our way from the train to the platform and out into the station.
Mrs Lupin comes rushing forwards and hugs both me and Remus tightly; she’s far stronger than she appears. It occurs to me that even though my own mother is gone, I have one almost as good in Mrs Lupin.
When she finally releases us, Lily grabs me straight away. “Have a brilliant Christmas, Marty,” she whispers into my hair. “And I’m sorry I can be such a cow sometimes.”
This is news to me, but I hug her back anyway. “Don’t be silly. Just make sure you visit me in ... well, I suppose in Taffy’s, right? I’m not going to get away with it am I?”
Lily lets go and shakes her head. “Probably not, no. Write and let me know what happens. I’ll see you soon.” She looks around at everyone else. “And you have a lovely time too, Luanne.” She eyes the Marauders warily. I suppose it’s never really been clear whether they’re actually friends or not, but she has spent much more time with us all lately. Eventually, she nods at them and says, “Bye,” before hurrying away to her parents.
“Well, see you,” Luanne says. She reaches out to hug me briefly and then tentatively hugs James too. He pats the top of her head and she breaks away rather briskly. “Right. Well. I’m off to see my real parents. See you in a couple weeks.”
James grins down at her happily. “We are your real parents,” he insists.
“Sure, Dad, whatever.” She sticks her tongue out, grabs her trunk and runs off.
“They grow up so fast,” he says, sniffing and watching her leave mournfully.
Mrs Lupin looks at me questioningly. I shake my head. “Don’t ask.”
“Come on, pops,” Sirius says, chuckling to himself and patting James on the back. “I think your Mum and Dad are waiting. See you Moony. Bye, Wormtail. Marty. We’ll be round all the time, you know, at the café. You won’t get rid of us.”
I smile. “Well, as long as you keep ordering drinks, I don’t mind.”
He winks and guides James away.
“Well, bye,” Peter says, shaking my hand formally. “And don’t worry, Marty. We don’t judge you. Trust me, I knew all along.”
“What about?” I ask and then remember his little campaign about me and Remus. “Oh. That. Well, yes, thank you. See you soon.”
He gives a mock salute and wanders over to his where his mother is waiting.
“Ready?” asks Mr Lupin, looking more at me than Remus.
I nod. “Can ... can we go straight there? To the café I mean? If it’s all right with you ... I’d like to get it over with.”
“Of course,” Mrs Lupin says. “We’ll get the Knight Bus right now if you like.”
We do, but it’s so packed full of Hogwarts students that we have to split up. There are two seats on the second deck, which are graciously offered to me and Mrs Lupin, before Remus and his Dad disappear to the third deck.
After a few minutes of silence, I say tentatively. “Mrs Lupin ... I’m kind of scared.”
She looks down at me and takes my hand. “I know. But don’t worry. Because you and I are similar, Marty and we have every ingredient needed to make us indestructible.”
I stare at her. “What do you mean?”
“Well. We can never be broken. We’re strong. I may seem soft and frail to look at and you could expect me to be with everything that’s happened. But I have insides of pure iron, we both do. First of all, we are Gryffindors. This makes us brave. We can face anything. Whatever is thrown at us.”
I think of when I was sorted. The hat hadn’t put me where I thought it would. I had expected Ravenclaw, but it gave me Gryffindor. Why? “You have more to give than you’re giving,” it had said. But I never understood what that meant. Is Mrs Lupin right? Is that what I never gave until now? The ability to carry on? I suppose, then, I had never needed it. But if I think about it, I have done remarkably well. Five months after my mother died and I’m fine. I have the odd wobbly day, but mostly I’m better than ever. Everything that happened after that night made me a much stronger person.
“Secondly,” Mrs Lupin continues. “You are British. You have the carrying on with a stiff upper lip blood running through your veins. If there is anything Britain is known for, it’s strength defying all hardships.”
This is very patriotic and slightly weird, but I like it anyway. It makes me proud of my country. If we can take anything and come out the same as ever, this little business with You-Know-Who should be a doddle. I can almost taste the hope and victory already.
“What else?” I ask. “That can’t be it. Loads of people are British and a Gryffindor.”
“Well, there is one more thing,” Mrs Lupin admits. “But it doesn’t narrow anything down much more. You see, there are many people just like us who are strong. That’s why people like You-Know-Who will never defeat us.” Funny that I had just been thinking exactly the same thing.
“Go on then, what is it?”
“You and I, Marty, have one final thing to make us indestructible. Something that roughly half of the population lack entirely.”
Good grief. It sounds like I’m one of the lucky ones. “Stop stalling. What is it?”
“We’re both women,” Mrs Lupin says, before throwing her head back and laughing.
Soon, we arrive at The Leaky Cauldron and it’s not long before we find ourselves in Diagon Alley.
“We’ll leave you together,” says Mr Lupin, smiling a little. “We can meet here later. Good luck, Marty.”
“And remember the three,” Mrs Lupin says and winks. She takes Mr Lupin’s arm and they disappear down the street together.
“What’s she talking about?” asks Remus. All the awkwardness of the last few weeks seems to have vanished completely. I wonder if he got his own little pep talk from his father. He wouldn’t tell me if he did. It would probably be better not to ask.
“Nothing. Come on, let’s get this over with.”
I shock myself “ and probably Remus “ when I take his hand firmly and head in the direction of the café.
“Marty,” Remus says tentatively. “Can I speak to you about something?”
“Is it to do with what Peter kept going on about?” I ask.
“Well. Yes.”
I pause for a second, before saying. “Go on then.”
“It’s just,” he begins, “the more I thought about it, the more likely it seemed. I know you have that weird pumpkin juice thing, but everything else just seems to ... fit, you know? It’s like where you’re wacky, I’m ordinary and where you’re scared, I’m strong. But where I’m scared, you’re the one that’s strong. Where I see a problem, you see a solution. Everything bad about me is good about you and the other way around. You know, together we almost make a whole person.”
I look up. It’s funny, but with all my observations and recordings and research, it turns out Remus knows more about himself and me than I ever could.
“So,” he continues when I don’t reply, “maybe you’d like to give it a try sometimes. Us, I mean. See how it works out.” He stops.
“Yeah,” I say eventually, despite my instincts telling me to run away. What about my arrangement with romance? We’re supposed to avoid each other. Still, what was it Lily said? It catches up with everyone in the end. Something like that. Besides, I have the three keys to indestructibility. How could a little romance hurt? “Yeah, okay. Let’s try it.”
“Really?” he asks, sounding surprised, but pleased.
“Sure. Did you really mean it that you were planning on trying to get Lily and James together?” I ask, because I’ve been thinking about it ever since he said it. After all, for us both to have had the same idea (my Secret Cause is certainly not forgotten about) is pretty cool.
He looks a little uncomfortable for some reason. “I suppose so. Do you want to help?”
I grin. “Most definitely. They’re stubborn, but I can fight dirty. They’ll be together if I have anything to say about it.”
“In that case, go Team Lily and James.”
I smile. I can’t help it. It won’t go away. “Remus ... why have we stopped?”
He looks taken aback and says unsurely, as if he’s not sure whether I was joking or not, “Well, because we’re here.”
I look over and am surprised to see that he’s right. I don’t know why I’m surprised, but I suppose in a way, I’d been expecting to feel it before I saw it, to sense the bad vibes emanating out. Not forget about it completely because something more interesting was happening.
It’s mostly the same as ever, I’ll admit, but changed in small ways here and there. I can’t quite put my finger on it for a moment, but then I see. The windows are empty. Before everything happened, they were full of posters advertising the next rally, or urging you to find out more about whatever was currently the most important Cause and sometimes they even advertised the café itself. Now, you can see straight inside. Aunt Tabby is behind the counter and my Mother’s place seems to have been taken by two extra waitresses. Despite this, I know that my help will be as valuable as ever now that the holiday season has arrived. I look through the windows behind Aunt Tabby, who hasn’t noticed me yet (but looks exactly the same as she always did, only I imagine a few more lines on her face close up) there is a large framed picture behind her. I can’t see what’s in it, but I don’t recognise the frame.
I watch for a moment longer and mercifully something grabs her attention to the right. She moves over and the picture is revealed. I can’t see it in much detail, but I recognise it straight away anyway. The three of us, the summer before last. We’d taken a small holiday in the north of England by the sea. Mum had predicted that good times would be few and far between in the near future, so had hired some temporary staff, stressed for nearly a month to try and brief everyone about exactly what would happen and worried the whole time that the café would crumble and disappear while we were gone. But as soon as we got away, it was fine. Worries over. And that photo had been taken on a beach on the very last day. I am in the middle, my mother and aunt either side with an arm each over my shoulders. We’re all waving.
It’s not a tacky memorial shrine to my mother, with candles and an eerily benevolent picture. To a stranger (or a Death Eater looking for a way to accuse us of being too outspoken) it’s just an ordinary family holiday photo in pride of place. But I know the truth. It is a memorial, not just to my mother, but to the happy family unit of three we used to be. But it’s also a symbol of hope.
Maybe I’m reading too much into it and the idea hadn’t even occurred to Aunt Tabby when she picked it, but the way all three of us are smiling and waving is like saying that there are some things You-Know-Who and his followers can never destroy. It may not be an in-your-face campaign to shout as loudly as possible about every injustice we can find, but that was more mine and my mother’s style anyway. In her own way, Aunt Tabby is protesting just as much. And it makes me want to run inside and never let her go, to apologise for being a terrible niece and ignoring her these past months because it hurt too much. How could I not realise that it must have hurt her just as much not to hear from me? Why did I never realise how selfish I was being?
“Are you ready to go in?” Remus asks.
I look up at him. There’s one thing I need to do first. I decide to take Phyll’s advice. I take a bunch of his coat in each fist and pull him towards me. This takes him by surprise at first, but he soon responds by kissing me straight back, placing his hands on my shoulders carefully.
It only lasts two or three seconds before I let go and step back, brushing myself down briskly.
“I am now,” I decide.
He is staring at me with wide eyes like a kid who’s only just realised it’s Christmas soon.
“Wow,” he says. “That wasn’t like you at all.”
I smile. “Well, I think it’s about time for a change anyway, don’t you?”
Then I take his hand firmly and lead him inside.
Conversation with Marauder Remus Lupin
Me (M): Finally. I thought I’d never get a break. How’s your Mum?
Remus (R): She’s good. Looking forward to tonight. She wants us to help her decorate the tree. It should be fun, there’ll be lots of fairies involved.
M: Excellent! But, you know, I’m not sure I agree with the use of living creatures purely for ornamental reasons. Is it fair to conjure them purely for our own use?
R: Probably not. Still, I think there are bigger problems right now.
M: Like what?
R: Well, I’ve been waiting five minutes and I’ve still not got the drink I ordered. I blame the waiting staff myself.
M: We’re busy! And you were the one who forced me to take a break so I could come talk to you.
R: I was kidding, calm down. Hey, I thought of a name for The Book.
M: Really? What?
R: “101 Ways To See James Make A Prat Of Himself”. It sounds like a bestseller to me.
M: Very funny. For a moment I thought you might have something useful to say. You know it’s been nameless for nearly three years?
R: I was kidding. No, the real name I thought of is much better. “Our Tale”.
M: ... I don’t get it.
R: Well, that’s what it is, right? The story of you and the Marauders. It’s Our Tale.
M: I guess. But it’s not about me. How can it say “Our Tale by Marty Price” when I’m not actually in it?
R: What are you talking about? Of course you’re in it. Especially lately. Everything that’s happened to us the last few months has involved you in some way. You’re just as much one of us as ... well, as one of us. It’s your tale too.
M: You mean I’m a Marauder now?
R: Well, no. That would be weird. But we’ve never been about maraudering, not really. You know that. It’s not the tricks and jokes that keep us together.
M: It’s your friendship ... I know. Of course I know! I’ve been telling people that since way back when, but no one ever believed me before. “Our Tale”. I like it.
R: Really? It’s simple, you know? People would want to find out more. And you can give it a subtitle, like “A Study of Strong Friendships” or something.
M: Yeah! Like ... “Our Tale by Marty Price: An In-Depth Psychological Analysis of the Personalities and Dynamics Needed to Sustain Everlasting Friendships”.
R: Or ... something. And what’s more, I think it will grab attention because “
M: You don’t have to sell it. I’ll use it.
R: You will? Not just because you don’t want to offend me? I can take it.
M: No, I really do want to use it. Thanks.
R: Well. The pleasure’s mine. Thank you. Do you fancy some pumpkin juice?
M: Yeah, go on then.
AN: Well ... that’s it. It’s over. Thanks so much to my brother for listening and Chomione for reading and beta-ing every single chapter. To the mods for accepting and for the fabulous site in general. And to the readers, all of you, whether you reviewed or just read. And not just with this fic, with all of them. Because I have a small announcement, if anyone’s interested. This is my last fic. Maybe not ever, but certainly for the foreseeable future. I’ve realised it during the course of writing this, even though I enjoyed it immensely, but I think now it’s time to end. I still love fanfiction. I love everything about it and I’m not giving up writing stories, but I’m afraid I’ve grown out of this. I want to write in my own universe now and so I have original fics I’ve been working on, with a characters who storm into my head and then completely take over. At first I thought they’d fit into fanfiction, it’s time to make my own world. The only bad thing about it is that they won’t be able to be published here. I will still answer any reviews and I’ll probably still read other fics every now and then, I just won’t post any. I’m not disappearing into cyberspace like some writers and I’m still more than happy to be contacted through my author page, I really mean that. But real life (including lots of real studying, I’m starting my A-Levels now after all) and writing my own world has slowly taken over. Hard to believe. When I started, it was impossible to imagine even being published on here, let alone giving it up, but here I am.
Thank you again to the site and everything and everyone that comes with it. You’ve helped me grow as a writer, and you’ve probably helped me grow as a person. Now how about one last review? =)