A/N: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, I only take credit for my own added character's and storylines.

Recommended story: Yule Ball Panic, by Philosophize.

Fem! Harry x Hermione that have to be careful in a (somewhat) homophobic society, one wrong step and their whole society will want their blood. Haven't read it in a while, but definitely one of the better ones in the HP Fanfic sea. It's continued in Power of Love and then Heart and Soul and completed, which is a rare treat. Also. Veela magic, which I took some inspiration on (as soon as we reach it).

BTW, I have an A03 account where I'm also publishing, if you prefer reading it there~.
Enjoy!

Chapter 2 ~ Thoughts, Contemplation & Stars


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Right, so: Content Warning! Very brief mention of suicidal thoughts and implication of abuse.

Not sure how it got to this, because none of it was in the drafts...

Skip to the word drowsily if it's anything you don't wont to read.

There's also gender contemplation, but it's kind of will be part of the fic... so...


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Hadrian sniffed, rubbing his eyes as he hugged his knees closer.

It'd started raining, not that long ago. A sudden downpour, another ridicule to today. It wasn't like this was the first time he'd been out in the rain. Not a common occurrence either, but something he was somewhat accustomed to. It didn't, unfortunately, make it any easier. England wasn't as cold as it was windy, and right now he could only shiver, leaning further into the tree in an attempt to shelter from the storm.

Something on how it moved the immediate warm air around the skin. He was too tired to ponder on it, or anything, while he was here shivering.

This was a beautiful garden, though. Overgrown and abandoned, many of the plant's they couldn't even recognise, bushies had long since grown entirely out of control, some of the flowers seemed to be replaced with weeds, and the pond had long since been turned green by... er... not seaweed... algae?

Maybe. It was difficult to tell in the dark.

There'd still be faint traces of sunlight when hed... appeared? Teleported? He couldn't even begin to phantom whatever he'd done some few hours was called, or, for that matter, had a name to start with.

He'd just... been here, suddenly, and he knew private drive well enough to know this wasn't there... and he'd just...

He'd cried. It... he didn't even know when he'd last done that. Had he ever done that? It just... it'd reached the point where it'd been too much to... it'd felt like a sudden crushing weight. It was always there and, usually, they could... well not ignore it, but close enough to pretend it wasn't there.

He hadn't even known what he'd felt at the beginning. Not regret, that was different. And not sadness, that'd been there long enough that he'd learn to ignore it years ago.

There'd been some prolonged number moments when his brain had just... stopped, completely nothing that resembled a thought.

He kind of knew what it was now. Fear. Or at least that's what he presumed it was. Not like the one Dudley and his 'friends' made him feel whenever they cornered him, but more of primordial fear of...

Well... not death.

They hadn't feared death since... ever?

Truthfully, death was something that was... okay, it wasn't always there, but often enough that it was a very familiar thought whenever it was... there.

A thought of comfort, possibly.

But...

Just there.

...maybe it started when he was five? Definitely six. It just...

He'd read an 'Inspector Calls', it'd been a book he'd found next to one of the neighbour's bins in a slightly worn state and picked it up. It wasn't rare for the Dursley's to just lock him up for the weekend, and while hiding them under the planks of his room required awkward positioning, finding books without stealing them was harder.

It started innocent enough, he supposed.

It's not like he understood everything, but... he'd understood her, even if there's the question if they all the same girl, Daisy Renton, or Eva Smith, he'd understood her.

And then he looked up, the second tallest shelf had bleach and...

...he hadn't.

It'd been a thought. For a moment. Just... there, completely entranced and so lost in the spiralling thoughts.

But there'd been something that wouldn't let them just, reach out his hand and...

...

He'd like to think it'd been some remnants of a desire to live.

That silly little dream where someone would open the cupboard door with a smile as they said that he was normal, and not-

He'd just take the plot's of flowers he grew in the Dursley's garden, and just leave, never look back...

It was a beautiful dream.

There was also another time, back... maybe a year ago? It'd been one of the worse days. So incredibly tired, he'd hidden most of the utensils in the oversized pockets, including one of the dinner knives, when Vernon walked in, intending to finish them tomorrow when he was preparing breakfast... but...

Just... thoughts that were there.

It... was complicated. Technically, it wasn't illegal, they'd found that out when going through one of the library newspapers. It'd been a complete coincidence, hoping to find something about his parent's in 1981, but they found out that what they'd been thinking had been illegal only three decades ago and...

And people were...

As a not quite rule, but much more than just a habit, Hadrian didn't like people, even less when it came to trusting.

They just. Didn't. Think.

No, rather, they didn't think for themselves. It felt like talking to the bloody television half the time. Always the same reasons with the same ideas.

And they only think what the society wanted and expected them to think.

(Normal but not normal. Right and wrong.)

Not only children. Hadrian had also noticed this in adults, maybe even more than children.

And then he'd started eavesdropping. People just... they didn't have a nice opinion on the thoughts that he never voiced. And it was so much easier to keep them quiet than to bring that attention to themselves.

Just. There was what the Dursley's said, and not one person looked further because they didn't bloody think.

So when Dursley just stood there, gazing down at him with a sinister gleam in his eyes as-

...

And Hadrian was tired. Just, so, so tired.

...

...

...

This was a lovely garden, thought. Even half-collapsed, the house gave off a very cosey vibe.

Cosey and homey. A little bit like the house's he'd draw in his cupboard, small, but with his a room of his own, a kitchen, a library, a bathroom...

His eyes darted towards the wooden plate next to the door, eyes squinting as through the dark, rain, and terrible eyesight.

...

Why did Godric's Hollow sound so familiar?


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Azalea blinked drowsily, the wards humming gently as the world started to focus around them.

They squished the faint amount of irritation as they rolled on their bed.

Not so much because they lived alone as the fact that it wasn't even four in the morning.

Even they, who could function with waking up at six, drew the line there.

Granted, it had nothing to do with wanting to and everything to do that, without fail, Mrs Dursly always walked down at seven past six. It'd been a simple matter of adaptation, which had lead to them to be a very unwilling member of the 'early risers'.

Thought, back to the issue at hand, there were very few people that had access to this location, less those that were permitted to pass through the wards. Well, they could, but the result was not a pretty one, and they doubted that someone could have completely sidestepped goblin made wards as if...

...wasn't it Yule? Who in Morgans name woke them up on-

Wait.

Right. Okay. They'd blame that on lack of sleep.

Letting out a groaned, they reached out for their dressing gown, yawning tiredly as they started to walk down the stairs.

Adelheid. Only that women would consider it acceptable to visit someone before there was even sunlight. On Yule morning of all times.

Rubbing their eyes tiredly, they switched the kettle on, rummaging through the fridge as they wondered if they even had enough food. They could always just make do with the Turkey and stuffing, forget about leftovers and buy something tomorrow. The non-magical world was filled with workaholics, so they'd probably find somewhere open.

Either way.

Slamming the door open when the bell rang, they sent a withering glare towards Adelheid, a smirk on the tall, pale women's lips and so much amusement radiating through her.

Why had they keyed this woman in to start with?

"Azalee." A monotone voice greeted as something pulled them into a tight hug.

Oh, right.

"Good morning, Heidi." Azalea murmured, returning the embrace as a soft smile grew on their features even if they were mildly miffed with Adelheid.

"Why, hello there, Blühen, hope you don't mind the visit." The women greeted, a lazy smirk on the lips because they very much knew Azalea minded.

"It's okay, Heidi's always welcomed here." They smiled sweetly.

"Oho? And what would you two youngsters get up to all al- Ouch!" Adelheid yelped, grabbing her shin in pain.

"Behave." Heidi sent a warning look towards her companion.

Sometimes, they wondered which of the two was the oldest.

Grabbing the back of Adelheid's collar with a soft breeze of magic in an action reminiscent of holding a kitten, she smiled softly to Azalea. "Frohe Weihnachten, Azalee."


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"Pass." Heidi huffed, holding Hedwig in her arms as her deck of cards floated in front of her.

That bird gets far too spoiled. Azalea thought idly, placing the three of spades.

Not that they'd have it any other way.

"-so I thought, 'Hey, might as well visit China!' and see how he's doing, you know? So I knock on the door- who's got the six of diamonds?" Adelheid muttered, glaring at them as she put the two of spades.

"Who knows." Azalea shrugged with a friendly smile.

"Right... So I find him, half-asleep, completely knocked out and his house half burnt down. Turns out he'd found this interesting spell that caused sleeping gas, only that the gas was produced by a very flammable flame." She continued ranting, shaking her head at the bewildering tale.

Not that it was a strange occurrence in the magical world. It was perhaps the largest problems with people that were raised in the non-magical world.

Magic was not logical.

There were patterns and rules, true, but you could create energy which, according to a physicist, was something impossible. Which, in retrospect, made no sense. If you couldn't create energy then where did they come from?

But anyway.

Magic was capable of anything. Thing is, there were lines that you shouldn't cross.

So when people that were raised in the non-magical world, claimed that clearly, it was simply the purebloods that didn't understand something that they'd studied for millennia, and that science was the answer, things got difficult. They got difficult fast.

Heidi called another pass.

Azalea put down the six of diamonds.

Adelheid sent them a glare, putting down the five of diamonds with a pointed look.

"So we end up having to sleep in a hotel, visiting around the place instead of what used to be a lovely looking mansion." She continued while rolling her eyes. "Which, before I forget." They added, reaching for her bag as she pulled out a small package. "Sending you a book of exotic magic is good and all, but that kind of gets repetitive, you know?"

Azalea smiled, for all her antics could make them drive themselves up the wall, Adelheid could be surprisingly tactile when it mattered. Gently, they opened the small box-shaped package and gazed at what laid inside.

Their brain fizzled, a sudden stop as large 'ERROR' shaped words echoed in red throughout their brain.

"-there were other's, of course, but the only other one I could think that you might have liked was a simple crucifix. I wasn't sure where you stood with Christianity, so I chose a more... widespread choice."

"I... how... " Eyes still wide, the stared at the beautifully carved emerald earings, then at Adelheid, and back to the earrings...

"You don't mind piercing your ears, right? If you do, I can just swap it next time I pass through-" She continued chattering with an amused smirk.

"I-It's fine." They stuttered. "I-I mean, thank you, it's beautiful. But... are you sure it's okay to give me something like this? It must have cost-"

"Meh" She interrupting, shoulders moving into a shrug. "It was collecting dust, and I'm, you know, filthy rich." She wiggled her fingers, a Galleon emerging from nowhere as it floated above the back of her palm.

"Anyway, I found them in one of the older shops in Luoyang, hadn't been there in ages, and their enchanting is even better. I mean, the Chinese have always been good at enchanting, but they've started making some very beautiful ones in the past few centuries. Fairly certain it's why one's shaped Yin while the other is Yang, even though they seem physically identical."

The enchanting. No that the craftsmanship wasn't amazing, but she meant the actual enchanting. Which...

...honestly, that was amazing. The enchanting themselves would have been ten Christmas gift's themselves, with the earrings...

"Ah! W-What? Don't cry! Look, I-"

"Not crying!"

Azalea pulled her into a hug, laughing at her panicky expression.


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Adelheid hummed softly, adding another small braid on their hair as the sun slowly started to rise. Azalea smiled fondly as Heidi played with Hedwig.

"Have I ever said how much I love you hair?"

"I believe the first time we met, it was more something along the lines of being a nest to several creatures in some few colourful languages." She drawled in amusement. "Where did you even learn all these hairstyles anyway?"

"Oh, Adelaida's hair used to be a real nightmare." Azalea blinked. Heidi's was?

"Really?"

"Really. Used to be a complete mess, the thing is, when you're a vampire, you have a fair bit of time to study these things."

Well.

She wasn't wrong.

They still hadn't figured out how old Adelheid was. They knew Heidi had become a vampire somewhere during the Roman periods. Probably Imperial, but somehow, Azalea had felt it unpolite to ask, so they'd just left it there.

They did, however, sympathise with Heidi. As someone that'd been turned during the start of puberty, she was stuck in a rather confusing loop of contradictory mentalities of experience and biology, ergo her... somewhat distant personality.

"Which is why you knew which product's helped." They nodded, rather grateful for that.

Ironically, some of those products had been made by a member of the Potter family, Fleamont Potter. It'd been a nice tidbit to know.

Magic made little sense like that. They'd studied that in potions, that, in magical beings, hair was one of the most magically reactive ingredients because of how saturated it was in magic. Ergo, having lot's of magic equalled untidier hair.

They'd waited after class and asked Profesor Snape why that was.

Turns out it's because of dead cells.

Not that it was something the Profesor deeply studied, and it wasn't only hair. Nails and skin also made potion ingredient's and... it did make sense.

Even in humans, they were resistive to magic.

Not like trolls and giants, of course. But it was more than that of what a non-magical human had, which was why Obliviator's had to be careful with how they did they work since it required delicacy that the usual magical person didn't require.

It used to be traditional for magicians to grow out their hair, status of power and all. It had fallen out of practice during the two dark wars, leaving it somewhere in the known tradition while being one that only some of the older families practised.

But anyway, they were getting distracted.

That tended to happen when you barely got a wink of sleep.

"Yes, well, thank the Gods that we solved that." She smirked, conjuring a beautifully engraved mirror that floated in front of them.

A pair of emerald eyes stared back, the earing emphasising them, making them seem more overlarge than what they probably were. It was only now that Azalea realised they weren't similar coloured, they were identical.

The braids in their black hair looked really pretty as well. Very time consuming, not something they would even begin to attempt with magic, but Azalea liked them. It made them look more mature, what, with their babyface, when everyone had started hitting puberty.

Okay, not everyone, but magical humans tended to mature faster even if the average was more diverse.

They had no illusion they'd be in the latter diversity.

But they liked it. It made them appear more regal.

"Yeah." They agreed softly, smiling in the mirror.

"Azalea." Adelheid began, an uncharacteristic serious expression adorning her features. "Do you want to be a girl?"

For a moment, they stared, slowly blinking as they processed the question.

"I… I don't think that I want to be a girl…" A small frown formed on their features as they turned they gaze down towards their coffee mug. "It's… how to explain it… I can't make up my mind?" Yes because that makes so much sense.

They leaned onto the small table, focusing more on their chaotic mind than on the conversation.

Truthfully, they just liked to not think about it most of the time. It made life a lot easier.

"Sometimes, I think about it." Azalea finally admitted with a slow nod. "Mostly, I'm fine with…me, I guess me being me? And then, on some occasions, I'm not."

Yes, they realised that made absolutely no sense. No, they did, but it was what it was. And right now, those thoughts were a complete mess of confusion.

"Sorry, I'm not making much sense, am I?" They smiled apologetically.

"Well, that's fine as long as you okay with it." Adelheid finally hummed. Abruptly a smirk formed on her lips. "It helps that you cute."

Azalea rolled their eyes, jumping off their chair as they walking towards the kitchen in an attempt to hide a growing blush.

"So... why Azalea?"

"It's a family tradition." They responded easily.

Actually... now that they thought about it. They could probably-

"Hmm~. Well, as long as you're careful, I suppose it's fine." She hummed.

Right. They still didn't know why Adelheid had taken interest in them to start with. Either way- "...there is another reason I'm being careful." They admitted, offering her one of the cups as she purred her some tea.

"Oho?"

"Well," Azalea smiled. "Ever heard of the silly moniker, The Boy-Who-Lived?"

They hadn't been waiting for Adelheid to take a sip of her drink. Really.


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Hermione frowned, gently placing the joint camera present from Susan and Azalea onto the table, pondering to themselves as her parents prepared the meal in the kitchen.

The day they'd left on the Hogwart's Express, Hermione had hugged Azalea just before leaving the train. It wasn't something she did often, but they'd done it some few times since they'd started hanging out. Only...

Azalea had flinched.

Not the surprise jumping, but an actual flinch as they seemingly shrunk inwards. It lasted for a second, possible two before they'd straightened and acted as if it'd hadn't happened. She'd considered asking something but...

They hadn't exactly fought, but there'd been some arguments on... balancing between all of them.

Particularly when she offered to help with their homework. They hadn't quite been at the point of offended, but she knew it hadn't been that far off either. It ended with agreeing to double-check each other's homework, or sharing ideas after some time working on it.

So she kept it to herself. Driving herself mad as she tried to figure out an actual why.

Because it was strange. He'd been fine every other time she'd hugged him.

Only... Her frown deepened, going through every time she'd initiated physical contact. It... it might be silly, but... had that been the first time she'd done so outside of his line of sight?

Frown now approaching a scowl, she considered what she knew about Azalea Blackwood.

At first, she thought he was like her. And they had their similarities, yes, but...

They weren't as similar as she thought.

She was intellectually faster. Not always, of course, but she was usually the quicker one to finish.

He had a good memory, but it wasn't anywhere near as good as hers.

But then there was magic and...

...it was breathtaking, the way he'd just gracefully move his wand, a gentle movement and the magic would just dance around him, a little like a director lead the music of an orchestra.

With Azalea, there didn't need to be a book to cast a spell, they just did.

Hermione shook her head. She was getting off-topic.

Shed noticed early on that he was small. As in incredibly small, barely reaching her collar bone even though she wasn't particularly tall herself. Actually... the only person of similar height was Davis... they also had a rather frail build even when wearing the bulky robes of their school uniform.

Maybe... maybe I should ask mom and dad? They might know something that I'm not noticing.

Or maybe the troll had just left her paranoid.

Which...

She hadn't told her parents about that. For some reason, they'd never seen the letter from the school, and she wasn't sure they'd allow her to attend Hogwarts. So she... kept quit, she supposed.

More importantly, she needed some inquiries answered. And her parent's where the best place to get them.


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"Azalea! Mind if we take a seat at your lovely domain?" An overly cheerful voice asked from above.

They rolled their eyes, having long since become accustomed to this weirdness. "Make yourself at home." It's not like he'd do anything else. They raised an eyebrow at his companions, not so much because they were Slytherin than because he brought companions.

"Thank you." He grinned, pulling a seemingly random book from the shelf behind him. "That's Daphne Greengrass and Tracy Davis." He pointed to both girls at his left. "Both top of the year and, more importantly, understand magic."

Oh...

Okay then.

That answered his unasked question. Blaise didn't have a high opinion of Britan, which, fair enough, they suppose.

They hadn't paid that much attention to the political situation in Britan until Blaise had sat them down and explained it.

Turns out, it's (of course) a lot more complicated than good and bad, which is the propaganda that is usually spread around.

The average person is under the impression that there were two... let's say sects, for this situation. Dark, which was the major sect, and Light, which was the minor sect.

It was completely wrong and twisted, of course.

See, the thing was, the 'Light' sect was more along the lines of muggle radicals. They weren't in complete agreement, but at the core, they wanted to change society's culture to match that of the non-magical world rather than the one it'd held for centuries.

Now, the 'Dark' sect was more complicated. There were the traditional, which were a much more 'Grey' area than actually 'Dark' one, and then there were the... er... monarchial, they supposed, which had most of the 'pureblood supremacist'.

That was without including the much smaller groups that kind of just floated around, kind of supporting one sect while occasionally another one.

It was all rather complicated, and that was before you added the whole Ministry of Magic into it.

The Ministry was in charge of the country, yes, but the Wizengamot was in charge of the country's laws. So it came down to a majority united Wizengamot outranking the Ministry, only that it rarely was untied, which meant that the Ministry was kind of in charge.

But then, the Wizengamot didn't trust the Ministry, either because they didn't want them involving themselves in family matters, or because they thought it was too influenced by an opposing faction, so it ended up with everyone expecting everyone to hide a dagger behind their back and rarely getting anything done.

The last time they'd had any degree of unity had been against Grindeward during the second dark war. Britan's blood civil war was when the Wizengamot had been most torn into different fraction's, and those cracks were still rather visible to this day.

Unfortunately, it wasn't only Britan that was... bad. Most of Europe was in the same situation. France and Germany were the main two exceptions they could think from the top of their head. Germany had been... purged after the war, and were only now returning to a level of stability, France, on the other hand, had been so torn from the war that they'd had to work together to stop their country from falling apart, that unity had more or less stayed to this day.

Then there was America, which had this silly myth that it was some type of utopia. It wasn't. It more or less mirrored Europe with how it was run. Maybe slightly better, since the Civil War had been... bad.

As for Asia, it was kind of slightly better while also being slightly worse. More emphasis on 'pureblood' while less emphasis on 'racism', so it created a greater social divide while also being slightly more effective with its legal situation.

No one talked about Australia. It was taboo, thought no magical lived there. They didn't know why, but it had something to do with war having gone very badly.

Anyway, they were rambling.

They knew Greengrass was one of the leading traditional, while Davis was more of the 'not so firm' members that went between the purists and the traditional.

Not that surprising that Blaise liked them then. Traditional were the most likely to still practice old magic.

"Blaise speaks rather highly of you." Greengrass stated with an impassive tone, eyes still firmly cast downwards as she worked on her homework. "And you're rather well known at the Slytherin table, if only because you're a Troll-Slayer at eleven." She added as an afterthought. "There wasn't much to find about you, Azalea Blackwood." Greengrass gazed upwards, piercing blue eyes meeting their own.

Azalea blinked, somewhat taken back from… that.

"Should I be flattered or worried that Slytherin knows me?" They asked slowly.

If you had no idea what was happening, then stall. That had kept them relatively alive during the Dursleys, good to know it was still applicable.

"...Maybe you won't be stabbed in the back after all." Greengrass nodded, returning to her studying as Azalea blinked.

"Okay, enough with that, Greengrass. This isn't Slytherin politics." Blaise cut in, an amused tone in his voice as she turned to glare at him.

Slytherin politics? Azalea mouthed somewhat incredulously.

"We have to have fun somehow." He drawled, a taunting grin on his features. "Anyway, just thought I'd introduce you. Don't mind Greengrass, she's always like that, and David's..."

The girl in question gave a polite nod, not a word escaping her lips as she returned to her book leaving Blaise with an amused snort.

"So, my dear BFF, what marvellous wonders have you beautiful brain thought over our Yull holidays?" He asked with an overly sweet voice.

Blaise and Adelheid must never meet. Not when they have that identical expression.

Would it be mean to throw a book at him? Just once?


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Azalea hummed softly, legs dangling from the astronomy tower as they back leaned on the engraved pillar. They'd brought a blanket, of course, charms or not it was still chilling.

Hedwig had long since graduated from a night owl, seemingly enjoying sleeping on their lap at any possible time.

Which... seeing how there were only two groups they sent any form of letters usually meant they slept the whole day.

Well, whatever. Hedwig was only some few years old, so she could worry about exercise when she was older.

A smile formed on Azaleas lips, hand gently brushing through their companion's feathers as they started at the sky.

It'd been just like tonight. The clear sea of constellations faintly illuminating the ground when Hedwigs had broken out of their egg. When Azalea had made their first friend.

Maybe it had something to do with magic? The beautiful night sky's that were so lacking in light pollution, so really seen in non-magical populated locations.

There was something about lying on a tower, staring at the night sky, watching star's that were never visible at private drive.

Something they'd always tried to see when travelling. And this was almost as good as the night sky of the canary islands.

They'd travelled the world before, visiting the major locations through Europe and Asia. And, maybe Africa this time?

They'd extended letters, over Christmas, and maybe they'd do the same in summer. They... didn't want to assume anything, but...

Were they friends? Azalea liked to think so, but they'd rather not assume anything and then put their foot into their mouth.

But then... Susan, Hermione, Blaise...

Maybe they were friends.

Yeah.

And, maybe, they were happy at that thought.

Just a little bit.


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Blegh.

Just, Blegh.

Sorry. I couldn't get this to the standard I wanted it, but I realised It just started reading through it, nodding, and leaving it there. So I just brute forced it into here. So Blegh.

Huh... just realised Philosopher stone is my least favourite of the books... It'll pick up the pace in the next chapter or two, so I'm sorry if this one wasn't something you enjoyed.

That being said, I felt almost all of this was necessary (with the possible exception of the last section, which was more because I didn't want to end it with the awkwardness of Blaise bringing Daphne and Tracy in).

Anyway. Beta testers! Still hoping someone will explain this, please!

And, I think that's everything... maybe? I'll just write it in the next chapter if not...

Thoughts? Did you enjoy it?
Anyways, Ill See you next time! Ciao!

~ Sapphire and Emeralds