Hello, dear readers! How are you? So yes, I am beginning a new story. Why? It's been floating around in my head for days and I just can't write anything else! It's getting really annoying, because I really want to continue with Things I'm Not Allowed To Do and And The Truth Shall. So hopefully I'll be able to start writing those again. This won't really have much to do with Harry Potter for a while, but it will eventually!

Disclaimer: What I wish I owned: Star Trek and Harry Potter. What I don't own: Star Trek, Harry Potter, and lots of other things. And I make no money off of this, so chill out, Ms. Rowling (with all due respect!) and Paramount or whoever owns Star Trek now.

I watch the Vulcan boy walk into the classroom—he's nine, maybe ten—and stand at Miss Shay's side.

"This is Spock," she says. "I expect all of you to treat him with respect. Spock, why don't you sit next to Llarian? Llarian, wave a hand back there."

Spock silently walks to the back of the room and sits down next to me. "Hello," I say quietly. "I'm Llarian, of course; but I suppose you already knew that."

"Affirmative," Spock says without a trace of a smile. "I am Spock, from the planet Vulcan," he says seriously.

"If you don't mind my asking, why are you, a Vulcan, going to a Terran school?" I ask, genuinely curious. I had never met a Vulcan before.

"I am only half Vulcan. My mother is Terran." He seems…ashamed? But why?

"Cool. Where have you been living?"

"Vulcan."

"I've never been there. Is it nice there?"

The look on his face is priceless. "…Nice?"

"Nice. Did you like it there?"

"I am a Vulcan. I do not 'like' things. They simply are."

"I thought that you were part Terran."

"I am."

I blink. "Therefore you are able to like things."

"If I did indeed 'like' things, then would my classmates not…tease me?" he asks worriedly.

"Why would they tease you? They like things as well."

Spock's about to reply when Miss Shay interrupts. "Llarian, are you paying attention back there?"

"Sorry, Miss Shay, I was talking to Spock." Please don't get mad at us! I beg mentally.

"Very well, Llarian, just don't let it happen again." Miss Shay resumes the lesson, and I hand Spock a note, which reads: Talk later? He nods in response.

Thoughts? Like it, love it, dislike it, hate it? Neutral? I wanna know! Anyway, I want you to help me make a decision: What to name this fic? Submit titles via review, email, or PM. Then I'll set up a poll deciding on one. I was toying with the idea of calling it "IDIC and Magic", but I thought that it was stupid. If you like that title, tell me! Am I forgetting anything, Spock?

Spock: ...The way I speak.

Me: Oh, right. Okay, so when I watched the Original Series, the way Leonard Nimoy spoke kinda jumped into this story. The way he makes Spock speak is very careful, like his English was taught to him by a private tutor or something. It's not like how us Americans do it, all sloppy and filled with slang. It's a little poetic and almost like something out of the "olden days", like in the Dark Ages and such. Anyway, Spock, would you like to do the thingy?

Spock: Of course. Laveycee would like reviews. It is greatly appreciated.

Me: Until next time!