Fan Fic and More

Kyle sat on the cold tile floor of the bathroom trying to find a small amount of privacy. The Buddhism book he’d been reading suggested finding a quiet place for meditation. So here I am, he thought, trying to follow its advice while hoping not to look stupid to my new friends.

The book had also suggested burning incense to improve the quality of the meditation. But since I don’t have any and I’m clueless as to what raw or dried plants would be safe to burn in its place, I think I’ll pass on that for now.

He sat cross-legged as he tried to focus his thoughts inward while he focused his eyes on a corner near the door. He tried banishing the disturbing thought of Roswell from his mind, but failed.

He tried a different approach. He started smaller. First he banished Max Evans from his mind. Then the other three aliens. Next was Liz Parker, his dad and finally his mother.

Then he followed the next step of the guidelines, to focus only on that room. What did he hear, see, feel, smell or know?

He heard the water first. The third stall had a trickling leak and ran frequently. He heard the soft rattle of the early morning breeze on the leading of the stained glass window. Then he heard the angry buzzing of a fly caught in a spider web in the far corner of the room.

He shifted to his eyes. He saw the soft glow created by the candlelight and also the fainter glow of the moonlight shining through the stained glass.

Suddenly the door opened and a very sleepy person stumbled in to the first stall. The noise of the door snapped Kyle back into cognizance.

He tried to rise quickly but the cold and the numbness in his legs from sitting so long not to mention the aches from the afternoon’s Quidditch game prevented that.

His hands reached forward to steady himself as he untangled his legs and tried again to rise, successfully this time.

Harry stumbled out of the stall and was headed for the sinks when he noticed Kyle gathering his things. “How long have you been up here?” he asked.

Kyle looked at his watch and answered with a bit of surprise, “A little over an hour.”

“Really? Why?” Harry asked confused.

“Um, well I’ve been meditating actually,” Kyle answered truthfully.

“Why?” Harry repeated.

“It’s supposed to release stress and help you gain perspective,” he answered quoting the book.

“Really? So how is it going?”

As Kyle thought about it he realized that the burdens he’d banished earlier were back but not really as intense as they were before. “Well it actually does seem a little better,” he admitted.

“Good. Maybe I could try that sometime too?” Harry half asked and half suggested.

“Sure. I’d be glad to help,” Kyle said honestly. “But it is late and I should probably get to bed now.”

Harry smiled and nodded sleepily before leading the way back to the dorm.



Late Monday evening Mr. Granger went to the special cabinet in his study and pulled out a small stack of newspapers that would be considered tabloids by most respected journalists. Checks and Balances was an American rag but it tended to cater to science fiction buffs with its fanciful stories and less than circumspect news articles. Another local dentist had sent him a subscription to it as a gag gift for Christmas about 5 years ago. When he found that he liked it very much for its comic value and conspiracy theories he continued the subscription.

He was fairly certain that he’d read about the Crashdown Café in Roswell, New Mexico sometime over the past year but the memory was sort of a blur or a vague recollection of something in the bottom left corner of the page.

After a couple of hours he was tired, stiff and a little cranky. He was about to stop for the night when he saw it on the back page of the October 3, 1999 edition, Roswell Waitress Survives Shooting. A chill ran down his spine as he read the article again. Could this be what Hermione was looking for? He wondered and set the paper aside to copy for Hermione.



Wednesday evening Liz sat at a table in the common room trying over and over again to perfect her Charms homework. After almost an hour she growled in frustration and dropped her wand to the table as her third feather of the night was in a smoldering heap on the floor.

She stretched and turned then swept up the mess. She stopped by the table where Fred and George were still working in her CD player and asked, “So any good news yet.”

“No, nothing yet,” Fred answered.

“That’s ok, take your time. I’m grateful to you for trying,” she said brightly, trying to seem sincere at least while she was screaming internally, Hurry up!!! I want my music.

Then she headed upstairs, feeling desperate enough to try Isabel’s way of playing CD’s. I just hope I don’t send a laser beam through my head, she thought as she picked up her Dave Matthews Band Crash CD.

Ten minutes later, Hermione stumbled in the hallway giving Liz barely enough time to remove the CD from against her ear before her privacy was invaded.



Kyle strangely found himself more and more at home in the grime and steam of the greenhouses. He discovered it was one of the few places he could go to escape the frustrations and disappointments of the outside world. They also seemed to be a place of harmony and balance, which was something the Buddhism book recommended.

Sure he derived a great deal of satisfaction from the job well done, but also because he had found something that he did best. Liz could have her dank Potions dungeon and the complicated Transfiguration tasks, but he preferred the welcome feel of the soil between his fingers.

He finished potting the last of the Ghiradelli Ferns used in medichocolate and brushed the soil from his hands. As he checked his watch, he discovered he would barely have enough time to get back to Gryffindor tower before curfew. He grabbed his backpack and ran for the castle hoping not to be too late.

Two minutes later he made it to the common room with 30 seconds to spare.



A/N: I only know Hollywood's version on Buddhism and mediation. I hope not to offend anyone with inaccuracies. The mistakes are all mine.

Hermione sat in a chair away from the fireplace, book open and not reading a thing. Her mind kept wandering to the only Gryffindor not currently in the common room, Kyle Valenti. With his handsome features, broad shoulders and dark, wavy “devil may care” hairstyle he was hard to miss. And less than a minute away from detention for being out after curfew, she thought remembering how much she hated that part of being a prefect.

Her reflections were cut short by the commotion of the portrait opening to admit the object of her musings. “Cutting it a little close there weren’t you, Kyle?” she asked as he came sliding into the common room.

Five seconds later the giant clock on the wall chimed the start of curfew, illustrating her point.

Kyle grinned sheepishly at her as he panted. He then shrugged and said, “I only just finished the potting those ferns for Professor Sprout. I ran up the stairs as fast as I could and here I am.”

Hermione shook her head and muttered something about boys. Say something! she told herself panicking at the silence. She turned back to Kyle and said, “Don’t forget to plan for Transfiguration practice Saturday morning at ten. You’ll need to bring a coin with you.” Brilliant Granger. Bloody brilliant, remind him exactly why he doesn’t notice you behind all those books.

But are you sure you want him to? After all they are still hiding things, her inner voices argued.

“No problem. I plan on getting up at the regular time so I can get more done and play quidditch on Sunday without feeling guilty,” he replied with a wink.

Hermione blushed furiously, but tried to hide it by burying her nose in the book, never realizing the book was upside down.



Friday evening, Staff room, Teacher’s meeting

“I’m not saying they aren’t learning. In fact they are picking things up very quickly, What I am saying is I don’t want to see this time wasted because they lose it all by not using it for ten months. This summer schedule is somewhat like the last minute rush to study before exams, most of the information is lost after the tests are ended. To say the least it is an ineffective way to learn. Since we are giving up our summers for this I would rather not see our time wasted,” Professor McGonagall said vehemently.

“So what do you suggest we do to correct it, Minerva?” Professor Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling in anticipation of her solution.

“Could we arrange private, after school classes in Roswell throughout the regular school year? Perhaps just one subject per day with the professor traveling by portkey to teach the class? Would the rest of you be willing to do that if for no other reason than to insure that our summer’s efforts are not wasted,” she asked.

There were several nods amongst the staff. As Minerva scanned the room, she stopped at the scowling visage of Severus Snape. “Severus?” she asked.

He cleared his throat before speaking. “I have several concerns about your plan. First of all, how late in our day would we have to travel in order to reach Roswell at the appropriate time? Second, where would we teach them? Third, what controls would we have over their practices and projects? Or over their access to dangerous materials that are inappropriate for students of their skill level? And finally would we be able to obtain ministry clearance for such activities? Without such clearance any efforts we put forth towards it will be wasted,” he concluded.

The stunned silence in the room was almost deafening.

“Blimey, Severus! That was a whole paragraph. I’m pretty sure that it’s been at least six years since that has happened in a staff meeting,” Madam Hooch teased, breaking the silence.

Throughout the room other professors seemed to be choking in suspicious, giggle-like tones.

“Indeed,” Severus said, glaring stonily at them all before the headmaster began to speak.

“Those are very real and reasonable concerns, Severus. Some of which I am able to address immediately. The rest I will need to research a bit before answering. As far as the portkey times go, generally around 10 pm will be the best time for that depending on the true dismissal time of their Muggle school. We could arrange for the instructor who taught the evening before to not have an early morning class on the following day. As far as the other questions go, I should be able to answer them at next week’s staff meeting,” he said.

“Also we should see if they would be able to accommodate such a schedule,” suggested Professor Flitwick.

“I quite agree,” said Professor Dumbledore. “And I must insist on parental permission for both of them which means no more hiding for Miss Parker.”

He paused then continued, “Well, I guess this is a good time for a progress report. How are they doing in their classes?”

“Very well,” Minerva piped up.

“They are… adequate,” Snape murmured in a voice that suggested otherwise.

“The boy is a natural and she is holding her own,” Madam Hooch stated.

“I agree with that. He’s even been doing extra credit,” Professor Sprout chirped.

“I have some concerns about Miss Parker’s progress, but Mr. Valenti is doing well indeed,” Professor Flitwick said.

“What are your concerns?” Dumbledore asked.

“To be honest, she has some difficulty with pronunciation due to a slight lisp and overbite. I think perhaps it is causing her lack of progress and her very visible frustration,” the diminutive professor stated.

“You may well be right. Is there any way we can help her?” the headmaster asked looking most concerned.

“Only if she concentrates more on her pronunciation will she improve,” he stated.

“Professor McGonagall, could you subtly suggest pronunciation practice to Miss Weasley?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“Subtlety? From a Gryffindor?” Snape snorted.

The rest of the staff chuckled.

“On that note, shall we adjourn for the evening? I believe that Professor Sinistra has a class shortly,” the headmaster suggested.

With that the staff dispersed.



Journal Entry

If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I’d never have believed it. Kyle Valenti, Mr. Football, Basketball and ‘late blooming’ wizard is an absolute genius at Herbology. When he talks to the plants, they turn towards him. When he feeds them, they seem to thrive. It’s like he’s got Miracle Grow in his veins. I’ve never seen him happier than when he’s in the greenhouses. Not the ecstatic “We’ve just won the state championships” type of happy, but the deep, truly satisfied type of happy.

I don’t think I’ve heard him whine in about ten days. Wow! That might be a record. (Just kidding.)

Fred and George are still working on how to get him on the Quidditch team in someone named Alicia Spinnet’s old position as Chaser. They are also still working on my CD player.

Of course I made a little bit of progress on my own in that realm this week. I tried Isabel’s trick of playing the CD in my ear. I can spin the disc at almost the right speed but I’m still working on the bandwidth for the laser light that reads the disc. It’s good practice for control.

Unfortunately, Hermione almost walked in on me a couple of days ago while I was practicing. I know she would probably understand, but I’m not ready to share that yet. Plus she doesn’t exactly exude “confidant.” (Strangely, George does.)

Oh and she and Kyle were FLIRTING last night. What is up with that?

I hope I hear from Maria tomorrow. I really need it.

Oh boy, time flies. Better hurry or I’ll be later for Astronomy.

Liz

Saturday morning dawned with Liz Parker asleep at a table in the common room, where she’d fallen asleep studying after Astronomy. She woke with a start as she heard Kyle bounding down the steps from the boys dormitory. The pain in her neck almost made her cry out as she tried to remember where she was.

Kyle slowed when he saw her. “Liz? How long have you been down here?”

She yawned and tried to stretch but the pain prevented most of that before answering, “I think I fell asleep down here.”

“Why were you up so late?”

“Because I have been trying so hard to catch on to Charms that I haven’t been studying hard enough on everything else and I didn’t want to fall behind.”

“I can understand that but don’t you think your brain is fresher in the morning than at 1 a.m.?”

She grimaced as she realized he was right. “Yeah, I know that. I just kind of forgot that last night when studying seemed like such a good idea.”

“Well, since you are dressed and breakfast isn’t for another two and a half hours, do you want to go raid the kitchens with me for a pre-breakfast snack?”

A growl from her stomach nearly echoed in the large room and she had to smile, “Absolutely.”

Kyle helped her up and led the way towards the kitchens.

Once there, Liz ate only a Danish to take the edge off of her hunger so that she would be able to eat with the others at breakfast.

On their way back to Gyffindor Tower they met Peeves. “Oh look, the new Gryffindors are out early. Trying to find a place to snog? Need a shower to cool off?” he asked.

Before they could begin protest that they weren’t out to snog, they found themselves pelted by water balloons filled with swamp water, followed by chalk dust and ashes. They ran for the portrait of fat lady.

As she ran through the common room trying to get to the showers she stumbled and fell into the table, overturning a bottle of ink over her nearly finished Potions essay due Monday. “Oh No!” she screeched trying not to cry.

Kyle tried to think of a charm or a spell to remove the ink but they hadn’t covered those yet. He then searched his mind for a way to make things easier for her since he couldn’t make it all go away. “Liz, go get your shower. I’ll clean this up. Go on,” he offered.

“Thanks Kyle. I really appreciate it,” she answered trying to be strong in spite of everything.



By the time the others were up. Liz had showered and finished copying her essay to a new parchment. Once the pain in her neck had been eased a bit by the hot water, she was able to move a little better.

After breakfast they practiced Transfiguration with Hermione for an hour. Then it was Potions with Fred and George for the next hour.

Finally! she thought. Today seems to be getting back on track after a rather bumpy start.

But then just as she was putting the last ingredient in the cauldron, five beetle eyes, the top of the shaker on the vial slipped off and about fifty beetle eyes fell in. The potion color turned to a violent purple and began to boil vigorously.

Only Fred’s quick thinking kept the cauldron from melting as he added dragonfly wings to the potion, which cooled it to a gelatin consistency.

“Don’t worry about it, Liz. Accidents do happen. And it is far better to have them happen up here than down in the dungeon,” he said. “Just remember, always check your shaker lids before using them. Your potion was perfect until then.”

“Thank you, Fred. I will definitely remember that,” she answered. Then she went over to Ginny to practice Charms.

“Ginny, where is Kyle?” she asked as she sat beside of Ginny for Charms practice.

“Oh, he already took care of the lesson. While you were cleaning up from Potions, he came over and showed me his Levitation Charm on a feather, an acorn, a book and a burning candle. So I told him to get out of here so you could work without an audience,” Ginny answered.

Would it be easier for you if I passed you the salt myself for that open wound? Liz thought grumpily.

Two hours later, after some grueling pronunciation practice, Liz finally levitated a feather. Unfortunately, she was too frustrated and exhausted to succeed with the heavier objects.

“That’s fine,” Ginny said encouragingly. “We can try again tomorrow for the Acorn. Why don’t you take a break the rest of the day? I just heard Fred calling together a Quidditch game. We can go watch.”

A tapping at the window drew their attention. Harry walked over an opened the window and a bedraggled looking old post owl flew in and collapsed on the table in front of Liz.

She took the fat envelope from the poor creature and put a piece of biscuit on the table in front of it. Then she looked at the envelope. Oh thank God! It’s from Maria. If ever I needed a friend, today is the day. She greedily tore into it.

There were two inner envelopes and she started with the one marked, ‘Read me first!’ which turned out to be from Maria.

Dear Liz,

Don’t be mad at me for sending the letter from Max. He’s looked so lost and miserable since you left that I had to do something to cheer him up. Please don’t kill me for it. Hey, at least I kept my word and didn’t give him your address. Why you wanted to spend your summer in school is beyond me.

Interesting to note that Kyle cleared out of town for the summer too. (Football camp or something.) If you ask me, I think he’s spending the summer with his mom but doesn’t want people to know. Mom was over at the Sheriff’s last night “taking him a pie” (Yeah, right! I haven’t ever seen her makeup smudged so badly, and the woman had hickeys.) Anyway, he got a letter from Kyle while she was there and he apparently wrote something about “ticking her off and now she’s not talking to me. Will I ever learn to keep my mouth shut?” or at least that is what mom could see on the back page. Mom said if Michelle Valenti is as bad as she remembers her, he’s going to have a long summer.

Michael, of course, is pulling that stone wall crap again. But he can’t avoid me forever.

Oh well, I really wish you were here chica. Don’t study too hard.

Love ya,

Maria


Liz smiled as she put down the letter. She looked around the room to see the others going through the portrait hole.

George was the last one in line. He turned back as he was about to exit and asked, “We’re going to the Quidditch pitch. Are you coming?”

“Let me finish these and I’ll be down,” she answered with a smile.

“Great. We’ll see you there,” he said as the portrait closed behind him.

She turned her attention to the other letter.

Dear Liz,

I know it is a shock for you to receive a letter from me in the middle of a bunch from Maria. But since you left orders that your address was not to be given to me, then this was the only way.

Why did you leave? You know I don’t believe in destiny. But you never gave me a chance to prove it. Please come home. Things are all wrong without you. Tess is trying to put pressure on me to do those stupid memory exercises with her.

I am truly in Hell. Please come home. I need you.

Love,

Max


To her surprise there was a blank sheet of paper behind it that suddenly shimmered and words appeared.

She read:

Liz,

Thank you so much for leaving town. I appreciate the extra time to make sure he is mine. I am the queen, not you. You are just a pathetic human. How could you ever compare?

Just remember when you get back to keep your hands off my man. You know I’d have no problem taking out anyone who stands in my way. That includes you and even your parents.

Oh and don’t think about showing trying to show this to anyone else. It’s tuned to just you. They won’t see anything but a blank piece of paper.

Good luck in Florida, if that’s where you really are,

Tess


She sat stunned staring at the paper, then all the anger and frustration that had been building up burst through. With a scream of fury she ripped the paper to shreds and used her wand to burn them in the air. Then came the great need for air as she felt the room closing in on her.

So she ran, blinded by tears, through the portrait hole, down the stairs and out the door. When she reached the outside she started to turn towards the lake but heard the voices of the others and turned the other way.

Sobs of rage and misery escaped her lips with a feral intensity as she ran trying to find a place with both air and privacy. She remembered the exhortation to keep out of the Forbidden Forest as she took her first steps into it.

She nearly stopped at the memory but emotions overrode logic and she forged ahead.

After about ten minutes she stumbled into a small clearing. Tired from running and overwhelmed by emotions she collapsed to the ground weeping.

She remained there until the rustle of leaves and a snapping twig drew her back to her senses. Before she could rise and turn around she heard a man clear his throat.

George Weasley watched quietly as Liz appeared to get more and more frustrated with her charms practice. Finally after two grueling hours she had a small victory as the feather finally levitated instead of exploding. She then turned and tried to do the same to a small pebble, but she was exhausted and it only flipped. She threw down her wand in disgust. He sighed thinking, I wish I could…

Fred’s voice broke through his thoughts, “Doesn’t that sound great?”

“Yeah, it does,” George replied, having no idea what he’d just agreed to.

Fred had been jabbering away for fifteen minutes on his latest scheme for Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. To the casual observer, George was giving him is full attention. Instead he’d barely heard anything that Fred had said, using the time to study the cascade of Liz’s hair over her shoulder and across her back. He also studied the arch of her brow and the way she chewed her lip as she tried to correct her pronunciations.

Suddenly Fred was standing, holding his broomstick and walking towards the portrait hole. George felt compelled to follow or be forced to reveal his new favorite pastime, watching Liz Parker. The last thing he saw as he exited the room was Liz opening some letters.

He had just cleared the steps and started across the front lawn towards the Quidditch Pitch when he heard her choked sobs. Her turned to see her running down the steps. She started to turn towards the Pitch also when the loud laughter of the others caused her to pull up short. She hesitated about a second then turned away from their voices and began to run blindly towards the one place at school where she could face serious danger, the forest.

His own hesitation was only a fraction of hers and when it was over he had decided to follow her. He jumped on his broom and flew around the castle twice then a decoy path over the lake and around Hagrid’s cabin. As soon as he was far enough from the castle he flew into the forest and doubled back towards where he’d seen Liz running.

When he found where she’d collapsed in tears he landed as quietly as possible, only breaking one twig when he’d landed.



She turned, surprised to realize that the “man” she’d heard was actually a Weasley according to the unmistakable red hair glowing in the filtered sunlight of the forest. She studied the face to determine which of the twins it was. She stopped at the eyes. George. “Why are you here?” she asked hoarsely.

“I saw you running in here and wanted to be sure you got back safely. It’s better not to take your first trip into the forest alone, much less blinded by tears,” he answered with a comforting smile. “So why all the tears?”

“Home. Ex-boyfriend issues,” she answered quietly.

He fished a clean handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her as he sat on the ground beside of her. “Is he an ex by your choice or his?”

She hesitated a moment, deciding what she could tell. Then said, “Sort of mine and sort of his mother’s, but not really his.”

“So what is he doing that has upset you?”

“He’s begging me to take him back. I can’t face it. It was too hard to break up with him the first time. And I have so much to learn here that I can’t even deal with the extra pressure from him,” she said trying to hold back the angry tears that threatened to spill over again.

George sat quietly for a moment, his brow furrowed as he pondered her words, then asked, “Is it because, in your heart, you still want to be with him and his mother is getting in the way or was he abusive?”

She paused shaking her head, “No he’s not abusive.”

“Did you really want to break up with him?”

“No,” she whispered.

“So why is his mother involved in this decision?”

“Well, it’s kind of hard to explain all the details but she’s a queen and she kind of betrothed him to another girl before she left him in Roswell for his safety. The girl and his mother have both shown up suddenly in the last four months. So suddenly he has this destiny that doesn’t include me. So I left to let him follow it.”

“But why does he have to follow it?”

“Because he’s destined to be the king of his people and with that comes certain obligations. I can understand that and so no matter how much he wants to get back together I can’t let it happen. I just can’t handle the heartbreak later when he decides his people need him and he has to choose her for that to happen,” she explained.

“And he’s not accepting your reasons?”

“No and the pressure is hurting me. I guess that is why I jumped at the opportunity to leave home this summer. I would rather face Professor Snape three times a week and practice those darn charms every waking moment, than deal with Max Evans face to face every day this summer. It’s been a really bad year,” Liz confessed.

“Does he know what kind of stress you are under?” George asked gently.

“No. I didn’t tell anyone that I am a witch.”

“So what does he think you are doing here?”

“I guess he’s going with the story I left behind, that I’m in Florida with my Aunt. Only four people know the truth about where I am, my parents, Kyle’s dad and Maria. Actually to be honest, only Kyle’s dad knows that I’m a witch. The other three think I’m at a special scientific program in England for the summer. In fact the letter from Max only got to me because he sent it through Maria. And some how that Bit- …eh, I mean his ‘betrothed’ found out about it and slipped in one from her too. That’s what sent me into histrionics.”

“I can understand that,” George said sympathetically. Then he redirected the conversation again. “So why didn’t you tell your parents that you are a witch?”

“Because I didn’t think that they could handle it. Actually, let me correct that. I couldn’t handle the questions they would ask if they knew, so I didn’t tell them. I wouldn’t allow Professor McGonagall to mention it either.”

“How did you explain Kyle going to Hogwarts too?”

“We didn’t. Sheriff Valenti just told everyone that he had gone to football camp. And since I am going to my aunt’s house in Florida for a couple of days before I go home and Kyle is going to football camp straight from here then technically we aren’t lying completely.”

“True. You mentioned before that it was a really bad year. Is that something you want to talk about?”

“I really do wish I could. Kyle knows about it but his was equally bad and if I try to talk to him about it I’m afraid that he will start whining again. It’s been so pleasant around him these last few days without the whining and moaning, so I just don’t bring it up.”

“I could listen or talk if you need to. I know you want to keep your privacy, but really, who am I going to tell? I know hardly anyone in the Muggle world. Add to that, the only Americans I know are you and Kyle. So again, who would I tell?” he asked.

“That is true,” she chuckled. “But can I think about it anyway?”

“Sure. Listen, it is going to be dark soon. What do you say we find our way out of here and back to the castle safely and without getting caught? If we hurry we won’t be late for dinner,” he suggested. His stomach growled to accent his point.

She laughed at that and agreed, “Yes. That does sound good as long as it isn’t that kidney pie crap that they offered last Tuesday for lunch. Do you know how badly I wanted a Big Mac that day? That was so disgusting.”

“Tell me next time and I will see what I can arrange,” he offered.

“Absolutely. Now how do we get out of the forest without being seen?”

“This way,” he said leading her around the edge of the forest to the side nearest the back of the castle. “Almost no one ever goes this way but it cuts the chances of being caught considerably.”

“I really wasn’t thinking of the consequences when I fled today. Thanks for bailing me out. And thank you for listening to my problems too,” she said and kissed him on the cheek.

“It was my pleasure, fair lady,” he said chivalrously. And nothing compared to the interrogation I am certain to get when Fred and the guys catch up with me later tonight.

George stepped out on to the balcony to keep from openly staring at Liz as she practiced pronunciation with Ginny. They were using a candle and watching the patterns of the flames as she spoke, but all he could see was the glow of her skin and her hair in candlelight.

He stifled a groan while he took a deep breath, trying to refocus his mind. He heard the swish of robes and the clunk of a heel behind him. He turned to see his twin staring at him concerned. Turning back from Fred he looked out over the towers and over towards the pitch. He quietly spoke, “I never thanked you for covering for me yesterday.”

“No problem. It’s obvious to me that you have a crush on her, but not to the other guys. I can’t speak for the girls. So why haven’t you asked her to go with you next weekend to Hogsmeade?” Fred asked.

“Because she has a boyfriend situation that she is trying to sort out and I don’t want to be the rebound guy. But I really would settle for anything, even best guy friend at Hogwarts, if it meant I could spend time with her,” George answered truthfully.

“Cheer up. I think she’s willing to give you at least that title, probably more. You may rank as her best friend at Hogwarts, girl or guy. I could make you a trophy if you want.”

They both laughed and returned to the common room.



Journal Entry- Liz Parker

Things seem to be progressing with my pronunciation practice. I seem to be picking up the rudimentary charms finally and the newer ones only take about half the time to work through. As much as I hate to admit it, that damn candle is helping. Unfortunately, I keep feeling like Eliza Doolittle and want to break in to a chorus of “Just you wait, ‘enry ‘iggins…” Except my version goes Ginny Weasley instead of Henry Higgins but the frustration and the silliness are very much the same.

Speaking of Weasley’s, George presented me with my working CD player last night. I was so happy I kissed him on the cheek. Then I hugged Fred since he worked on it too.

And I actually let Kyle choose some of the music we listened to. Kyle put Dave Matthews on and proceeded to dance with all the girls, including me. He had danced the longest with Hermione (who was blushing bright enough to read by), when Ron cut in. He then proceeded to tread on her toes for the remainder of the dance. Seeing this Kyle took him aside and showed him how to avoid stepping on girl’s feet. Ron may still be pouting, seething or stewing over that one but it might just save Hermione a trip to the hospital wing with a broken foot.

Professor Dumbledore called us in to speak with him this afternoon. They want to have an after school class for us during the school year. He said it wouldn’t be quite as intense as this summer but it would be daily. And I will have to tell my parents that I am a witch. I guess I can do that now. I’m more settled with it and who says I have to say why I’m such a “late bloomer” to the wizarding world. Also there may be monthly weekend visits to study astronomy and for research and tests.

Fred was excited to hear that and is planning to approach the headmaster for permission to recruit Kyle to the Quidditch team. But they will have to work out a practice schedule too.

We have a Hogsmeade visit tomorrow. I’m kind of excited. I hope the girls forgive me. I asked George if I can hang out with them because I’m afraid Hermione will try to turn it into a History lesson and I need some fun. Plus she seems to be looking for an owl all the time and gets a little snappy when they don’t appear.

We are throwing Harry a surprise birthday party next weekend and I need to get a gift. I’m not sure what to get him, so I will be doing a lot of browsing tomorrow.

Oops, Kyle is trying to get my attention. Uh oh, we have class in 10 minutes… got to go.

Liz



Hogsmeade

The dark haired woman paced nervously while awaiting her contact. Her dark green robes were simple but well cut. They were long sleeved and covered the tattoo on her arm which only ached mildly today compared to the when she was being summoned.

She glanced at her watch again before muttering a few expletives and continued her pacing. “Fifteen minutes late. God what a …argh! He’s got two minutes to show up or he can do without.”

A loud knock behind her and two men stepped into the room, their white blonde hair gleaming in the torchlight. With a second glance she realized that one was just a teen, not a man yet and was obviously the son of the other. Malfoy she thought contemptuously.

“You’re late. I was expecting you fifteen minutes ago, she said unable to keep the contempt from her voice.

Lucius Malfoy stared icily at her before stating, “I trust you have what I need.”

“Of course I do. I do what He requests. But everything has its price. This one is 150 galleons,” She answered coolly.

“Would you have me tell Him you charged three times what it’s worth? You’ll get 50. Period,” he stated firmly.

“If the laws of supply and demand were kept in the dark circles of the wizarding world you wouldn’t have a choice but to pay a fair market value. As it is I am forced to accept this pittance that you deem a fair price for my hard work. Next time you can milk the North American Golden for both his blood and his venom,” the hatred in her voice was unmistakable.

“You will take the 50 and accept that the rest is keeping you out of Azkaban. All it would take would be an anonymous owl to the Ministry and they would arrest you for selling illegal goods. Now woman, you try my patience. Where are the vials?” he asked in his chilling voice.

She had no doubt that he meant what he said. She handed him the vials. “The green one is the venom and the brown is the blood.”

He threw the money on the floor in front of her and turned to leave.

She knelt to gather the scattered coins. She never heard him return; only realizing he hadn’t left yet when he kicked her hard in the ribs.

“Draco, this is how we deal with those who would cheat and disrespect us,” he said stepping over her prone form and leading his son out the door.

A few moments later she was finally able to get up and leave the now deserted back alley room and returned to the main street of Hogsmeade.

She walked quickly, eyes down, thinking of how she’d like to flay Malfoy. Actually all I’d like to do is to go back to the states and disappear back into the muggle world. But I can’t. I’m too involved in all this mess. The wizarding black market is going to get me killed one of these days.

She rounded the corner without looking and walked right into the broad chest of a teenaged boy with an “Omph!”

“Excuse me,” he said steadying her. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t…” he stopped, visibly paling as he stared at her. “Mom?!!” he choked out.

Her head jerked up in shock. She stared into the face of the son she’d abandoned years before. “Kyle,” she said her voice barely above a whisper.

George stood behind Liz watching the scene play out in front of them. Both Kyle and Liz seemed to be in shock, staring at the woman in front of them as if trying to remember where they had seen her before. He looked closer himself. Besides the black eye she was sporting there really was nothing that remarkable about the woman.

Then Kyle gasped out that one word that changed everything, “Mom?”

Liz gasped.

George watched the woman’s eyes. Fear, shame and a touch of pride ran across her face. She squirmed a little, fidgeting with the sleeves of her robes while Kyle confronted her. Then he saw something that made his heart stop. While she tugged the sleeves to keep them covering her arm, she made a rip in the fabric covering the forearm gape open. He saw the dark mark. By Merlin’s beard! Kyle’s mother is a Death Eater?!



Kyle’s mind raced when he bumped into the woman. She seems so familiar, but who… Who is she? he thought. He realized that aside from being clumsy he was being rude and staring. He stammered an apology. “I am so sorry, ma’am,” he said in his best southwestern drawl.

Then suddenly it hit him who she was. The dark wavy hair and eyes so like his own. “Mom?!” he exclaimed.

Behind him he heard Liz inhale sharply at his statement and from the corner of his eye he noticed George turn to study the woman before him.

Michelle Valenti looked up quickly and gasped out in her surprise, “Kyle?! Wha… What are you doing here?”

“Um… school. What about you, what are you doing here?” he countered.

“School? But the only school around here is…” she stopped stunned by the revelation.

“Hogwarts,” he finished. “I know. I go to Hogwarts.”

“But… But that’s impossible. You were a squib. You showed absolutely no signs of being a wizard. You took after your father,” she stated grimly.

“Well I guess things change don’t they? Like walking into an empty house three days after my eleventh birthday. I waited for somebody to show up. That didn’t happen until six when dad got home. We scoured the neighborhoods looking for you. It was like you had just disappeared. Dad doesn’t know you’re a witch does he? You apparated that day didn’t you? It all makes sense now. There was no trace anywhere of you. I watched out the window for YEARS waiting for you to come home. Do you have any idea what that does to a person?” he choked out bitterly.

“Oh God, Kyle, I never knew,” she whispered looking stricken and fidgeting.

“How could you know? You walked out of our lives and you never even thought to look back did you? It was absolute torture around there for the first couple of years, but eventually things got better. At least until this past year, which was total chaos. But I survived. I survived without you. I know now that I can live without you in my life, so I hope you believe me when I say I hope you rot in Hell!” With that said he turned quickly and stalked away followed by Liz, Fred and George.

“I already am,” she whispered brushing a tear from her face and watching as her son walked further and further away without looking back once.



“Fred!” George whispered to his twin as they were walking. They were about ten feet behind Liz and Kyle walking back to the castle. “Did you see it?” he asked.

“Did I see what?” Fred asked.

“Kyle’s mum. Her robe was torn across her forearm.”

“So?”

“So? So?! So she’s a Death Eater, you git! She has the dark mark on her forearm,” George exclaimed still whispering.

“What?!” Fred shouted and paled.

Kyle and Liz turned to see what the problem was.

“Is everything alright?” Liz asked.

“Yes, we’re fine,” George said nudging Fred.

“Wha… Oh yeah, perfectly fine,” Fred agreed insincerely.

The Roswell teens were too preoccupied to notice.

“So what can we do about it?” Fred whispered back to George after they began walking again.



There was an owl waiting in the common room for Hermione when they all got back. Her articles had finally arrived.

Kyle walked away from the confrontation feeling like he’d taken a football to the gut. The questions raced through his mind. Why now? Where has she been? Why was she so shocked that I was going to Hogwarts but not that there was a Hogwarts? Do I have to see her again? Would she let me see her again? Did she call me squid? I maybe a “shrimp” but I’m not a squid. Did Dad really not know she was a witch? Was she a late-bloomer too? Why did she hide it? And why did she leave? Do I know other witches and wizards in Roswell? I need to go back and talk to her. No, she’d probably hex me. Damn, maybe Max isn’t totally to blame for my being here after all. I think he just got downgraded from least favorite to second least favorite. Whaa…?

He jumped, startled out of his reverie by a light touch on his back.

“Kyle, Are you OK?” Liz asked with a quiet voice.

He bit his tongue to keep from snapping at her for asking such a stupid question. He looked in her eyes and saw only concern not sarcasm. He sighed heavily and decided on honesty over hurtful for his reply. “Uh… No. Not really.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

“Not a lot. But if you would, please, keep pushing me on to the castle so that I’m not tempted to go back to try to talk to her. I know I’m not ready for another confrontation no matter how many questions I have. I never thought I’d say this but I really want to talk to my dad. But who knows maybe he’d be more rattled than I was,” he gave a short, mirthless chuckle which sounded more like a bark.

“I think you should talk to him. Maybe Professor Dumbledore can arrange transportation to and from a telephone. We should ask when we get back. And if not then maybe writing it all out in a letter would be more cathartic anyway. It seems to help me to write in my journal,” she answered.

“I really wanted to hurt her back there. I wanted to make her feel all the pain and anger that I’ve felt because she left,” he said through clenched teeth, then he exhaled and spoke again, more calmly this time. “No! I have to get back into balance if I’m going to be able to focus on schoolwork this week.”

Behind them, they heard the shriek from Fred. They stopped on the path and turned back to see what was wrong.

“Is everything alright?” Liz asked.

“Yes, we’re fine,” George said nudging Fred with his elbow.

“Wha… Oh yeah, perfectly fine,” Fred agreed rather flatly but the Roswell teens had already turned around.

Kyle made up his mind on a plan of action.

“Liz, when we get back I’m going to spend time in the greenhouses, probably until supper. After dinner I’ll write to Dad and if tomorrow I still feel the need to call Dad then I’ll go and talk to Professor Dumbledore,” he said, feeling a lot stronger than before.

“That sounds like a good idea,” Liz agreed and started fishing in her bag. She pulled out a medium sized book bound in rich brown suede. “Here, take this.”

“What is it?” he asked reaching for it.

“Your birthday present. Look, I know your birthday isn’t until the day before we leave but I thought you might need this now. It’s a journal, wizard style. No locks but password protected so that anyone trying to read it without the password gets forgets what they were doing and remembers an errand they were supposed to run. I have a separate one for both secret aspects of my life. You may never use it but you have it if you want it,” she said.

“Thanks. I may use it in a little while. You don’t have a quill and ink with you do you?” he asked.

“Actually, I have my favorite never needs ink, pick the color you write quill. I’ll loan it to you. But I need it back for Monday, OK?” she said.

“Thanks. That means I can go straight to the greenhouses without going back up to Gryffindor Tower. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go on ahead,” he said.

“I don’t mind,” she said and patted him on the shoulder as he took off.

Then she fell back in step with Fred and George.

“Thanks for letting me hang out with you guys today. Apart from the ending it was wonderful,” she told them as they reached her.

“We live to help damsels in distress,” George teased a little bit.

“So, um, that was Kyle’s mum?” Fred asked.

“Yeah, that was the infamous Michelle Valenti, deadbeat mom extraordinaire. She left three days after Kyle turned eleven. Just disappeared without a trace. Nobody knew she was a witch, so they had no clue that she probably apparated. She just took half of the checking account and disappeared. Kyle hadn’t seen her since then, so he was a bit shook up as you can imagine. I think only the fact that his dad taught him not to hit girls kept him from hitting her,” Liz explained.

“Yeah, I kind of got the feeling he was in shock. So where is he going now?” George asked.

“He’s on his way to the greenhouses to think,” she said, then asked, “What’s a squim, or whatever it was that she called him?”

“A squib you mean?” Fred asked.

“Yeah that,” Liz said and turned to watch their faces as they walked together.

“It’s a derogatory word meaning a person born to a witch or a wizard who has no magical abilities,” George explained.

“It’s rumored that Filch is one,” Fred added.

“Oh so she said she left and left him behind because he wasn’t magical? What a bi…” she started saying when George clamped a hand over her mouth.

A few seconds later they passed Professor Snape on his way to Hogsmeade.

“Thanks George,” she said softly.

He smiled thinking, No, thank you. Then he looked at his hand wondering if an imprint of her lips was burned into his palm. They weren’t.



Hermione unrolled the parchment from her dad and found an article clipping attached as well. Dated 5 October 1999 it was from the Checks and Balances newspaper.



Roswell Waitress Survives Shooting

It was just another hot afternoon in the Crashdown Café. The after school crowd was mingling with the tourists in town for the Crash Festival. But something sinister was a foot. Two customers began arguing, supposedly about money but they were overheard to say, “We’ve got to get rid of her.” Then all hell broke loose and turned the ordinary September into something chaotic.

According to witnesses, seconds after stating they needed to get rid of her, a shot was fired from a gun that had been hidden beneath the table. And a waitress fell behind the counter and the men ran out. On their way out they appeared to check to make sure that the waitress, Elizabeth “Liz” Parker was not moving.

A few seconds later the other waitress was screaming for Liz to answer her when a young man appeared at the fallen waitress’ side. He spent approximately ten seconds hovering over her when the sound of breaking glass was heard and the young man fled. When the customer’s turned back, they saw the young woman standing, dazed and covered in ketchup.

The police report claims that no bullets were found and they speculate the gun was loaded with blanks. If this is the case why was a Crashdown uniform covered in blood and ketchup and containing a bullet hole turned over to the FBI? And why was the ketchup bottle broken after the shooters had left but before Miss Parker stood up? Also if a projectile were not involved why would she have fallen backwards when instincts would have sent her forwards? And why was a glowing silver handprint seen on her abdomen shortly after the incident? Could this be another government cover-up for the aliens among us?


Hermione stared at the page pondering the veracity of the claims made by the article. Based on the statement Professor McGonagall made about Liz’s name appearing on the list just last September, the timeline could be true. And with those comments made in the hallway of the Leaky Cauldron about “little green men,” then the aliens among us thing maybe true. But how does that explain Kyle? And where is he anyway? I haven’t seen him since they left the Three Broomsticks.

Kyle walked through the greenhouses trying to find solace. He wandered from plant to plant absently checking their progress while searching for the place he wanted to rest. He finally found a quiet spot where he wouldn’t be near any of the dangerous plants.

It was a small clearing with an oversized worktable and a pair of stools. He paused staring for a moment at the stools before ruling them out and lowering himself to the ground. He rested his back against the sturdy table leg and felt the cool comfort of the packed dirt floor beneath him. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily, content for the moment to do nothing.


Soon he felt more settled and remembered the present Liz had given him. He fished through his pocket and pulled out the new journal and the quill she’d loaned him.

He opened the journal and read, Please whisper password twice to set. He leaned forward and whispered twice, “Will Smith Burger.”

Thank you. Your password is set.

He turned to the first page and stared at the stark, empty page as a myriad of images and feelings from the encounter washed over him again. He took the quill and began to write.

She’s alive.

I finally find this out five years, eleven months and ten days after she left, but who’s counting. She’s a witch. No, literally.

I can’t believe I saw her. Oddly enough she seemed shocked that I’m a wizard. And who the hell hit her? She had a fresh black eye and seemed to be stooping a little. Is she in danger? Why do I care?

Maybe I should take a lesson from Michael Guerin back home and be a “stonewall.” Or was that “mud?” Maybe it was “mud wall?” Who knows? But everybody knows he’s had a rotten life and yet he doesn’t seem to care. Right about now not caring is looking pretty good to me. She’s my mother, so what? She left.

What was it she said when I was yelling at her, that I had shown no signs of having magical abilities. Would she have left if I had? Or would she still have left but dragged me with her? What would Dad have done then? He barely survived losing just her. I’m glad he didn’t lose me too.

And why now? How am I going to be able to concentrate for the Transfiguration test on Monday? Thankfully, I finished my Potions essay last night.

Oh, Why did I tell her that I wished she were in Hell?


Suddenly, the page blurred beyond recognition and he felt like the abandoned child again as the tears burned in his eyes. He gave up trying to force them back, and for the first time since his mother had left he allowed himself to cry. He didn’t bother to wipe at the tears, he just let them fall freely. The nearby plants leaned in and caught some of them on their leaves.

One of the plants to his left, a Mourning Begonia, began weeping with him. Ruby red tears dripped from its flowers looking like a bleeding heart. It was beautiful, grotesque and sympathetic all at once.

Later, he fell asleep, all cried out, still resting against the table leg.



Hermione fidgeted anxiously after dinner in the common room. Everyone was back except for Kyle. And he hadn’t shown up for dinner either. She tried playing chess and lost terribly to Harry. Finally she decided to speak to Liz about it.

“Liz, I hate to ask this but are you sure that Kyle came back from Hogsmede? It’s half an hour until curfew and he isn’t here. I wouldn’t be so worried but he skipped dinner and he never does that,” she asked.

Liz smiled slightly thinking of the sparks she’d seen between the two in the past couple of weeks. Then she frowned as she thought of the ordeal that Kyle had gone through that day. Suddenly she remembered that he hadn’t been wearing his watch today. She looked back at Hermione and seemed to form a plan. She answered, “He did come back from Hogsmede but he had kind of a rough day there so went straight to the greenhouses. But he may have lost track of time because he wasn’t wearing his watch. Do you want me to go down there and make sure he gets back in time?”

Hermione hesitated, “No, I’ll go down there and bring him back. What happened that was so bad?”

“You’ll have to ask him. It’s not my secr… um, story to tell,” Liz answered and then turned back to her Potions essay.

“I will. Thank you,” Hermione said before leaving.

A few minutes later she nearly stumbled over him before she saw him. He was sleeping still propped up against the table leg. She studied his face and saw the remnants of the tracks of the tears. She saw the collection jar under the nearby Mourning Begonia was nearly full. What trial could he have suffered through at Hogsmede to cause this kind of grief? she asked herself.

Her hand reached out of its own free will to touch his cheek, her thumb gently rubbing across the tear track to remove the evidence.

His eyes flew open, but he didn’t move except for a small, tired smile. “What are you doing here?” he asked with a hoarse whisper.

Hermione blushed, her heart pounding but she answered as truthfully as she dared, “I, um, I was worried when you didn’t make it back for dinner and was afraid that you wouldn’t make it back in time for curfew. Liz said you didn’t have your watch.”

“How did she…? Oh that’s right I must have asked them a dozen times if we were going to be late to meet you at the pub,” he said then his eyes darkened and his face seemed twist a little in pain as he remembered the rest of the day.

Her heart ached to see that trace of pain. She wanted to take the pain away but she knew she couldn’t. Her other hand moved to gently rub out the tear tracks on the other side instead while she said quietly, “Liz said you’d had a rough day.”

He nodded and said, “I did. I’ll tell you about it sometime soon. But I need to work it out a little more in my head and write to my dad before I do.”

When she started to pull her hands back he realized what she must have been doing. He reached up and captured her hands in his for just a moment. He gave her a grateful smile and thanked her.

“Oh that? It was nothing really,” she lied, blushing again.

And then he was standing beside her putting a book in his pocket. “Yes, it was,” he said firmly.

Then he leaned over and kissed her right cheek, causing her to blush furiously.

He led the way when they began walking back to the castle. They were quiet, both wishing that the kiss had been a little further to her left.

Nancy Parker looked up to see an owl tapping on the kitchen window. It looked like a typical barn owl but most were not out during the daytime. She smiled and opened the window to let the bird in.

"Hi, Oliver. How are you?" she asked him stroking the feathers on top of his head.

He waited patiently while she removed the letter from his leg and then handed him a vanilla wafer from the cookie jar. As he ate the cookie she tied the letter that had been waiting for his arrival. He then turned toward the window to leave.

"Give Laura my love," Nancy called to him as he took off.

I wonder if I will ever get used to owls delivering mail? she asked herself. You’d think that in 25 years it might not startle me anymore. I wonder what Liz would say if she knew that her favorite aunt that she’s going to stay with in Miami is a witch?

She smiled at the thought, then turned to the stereo. Cranking up Elvis Costello she went down the hall to sort the laundry.

Later that day Jeff walked in with the mail from downstairs. "Honey, do you have any idea why Liz would be getting a letter from Congresswoman Whitaker’s office?"

"I have no idea. Should we open it? Normally, I wouldn’t but since Liz isn’t going to be home for another month may be we should," Nancy answered her husband.

"Or should we just forward it to her unopened?" he asked.

"I guess. Yeah, put it in the envelope before curiosity gets the better of me," she said quickly as if to keep from changing her mind.

Jeff laughed softly as he dropped it in the large brown "For Liz" envelope.

"Oh, by the way, I got a letter back from Laura today. She says she’ll do a ‘special cleaning’ just for Liz’s visit. And for us not to worry, they will have a great time."

Jeff smiled then turned, grabbing his wife playfully around the waist. "You know, as much as I’ve missed having Liz around this summer, this having the house to ourselves has been really nice," he said first snuggling up to her, then tickling her ribs.

Nancy giggled and protested insincerely, "Stop that."

"Make me," he replied waggling his eyebrows at her. Then he chased her around the apartment and finally into the bedroom.



Kyle and Hermione made it back to the common room with about thirty seconds to spare. They had taken a quick trip through the kitchen for a sandwich for Kyle, which he sat by the fire to eat. Even in midsummer, evenings in the common room were a bit drafty and a fire was needed.

As he ate his eyes kept drifting towards the chess game that Hermione and Ron had started when she returned, but he rarely focused on the board. Instead he focused on the Prefect’s face. I wonder what she would have done if I would have kissed her properly? he thought.

Just then Hermione glanced up and noticed him watching. She blushed brightly and gave a shy smile. Then she looked back down at the board.

Kyle wasn’t sure what that meant.

With a sigh he finished his sandwich, got up and walked over to Liz. As he walked he reached into his pocket and removed the quill Liz had loaned him earlier.

He laid it by her on the desk and said, "Liz, thanks for letting me use your quill this afternoon."

He started to walk away but turned back saying, "Oh, and thanks for the journal, it seemed to help me. I’m going to go upstairs write to dad now."

He walked to the steps calling back as he climbed, "Good night. See you in the morning."

As soon as he got upstairs he quickly changed into his Roswell PE clothes to sleep in. Next he grabbed his quill, ink, some paper and his journal and jumped up onto his poster bed. Finally he lit his wand and put it into the holder over his pillow. Then he drew the curtains to insure that he would have privacy while he wrote.

He opened the journal after whispering his password and turned to the next empty page. He began to write.

What an emotional roller coaster today has been.

First it was a good morning. And then the trip to Hogsmeade, but I’ve already written enough about that.

Then I went to the greenhouses to "deal" with life and fell asleep.

Then Hermione came to get me.

She was so sweet about it and I kissed her on the cheek. I wanted to kiss her on the lips but I chickened out. I don’t know why I didn’t but I wonder what would have happened if I did.

A little after that I was watching her in the common room and she looked up and blushed, I think because I was watching her. Then she smiled and looked back down.

Unfortunately, I don’t know if that means she likes me. Or that she enjoyed the kiss. Or that she’s just embarrassed to be around me. But she didn’t look like she would hit me. Maybe next time I will kiss her properly. But maybe I should talk to her first to get to know her better. Apparently girls like that.

Hell, I might like that, too.

Well, I need to write to dad and I’m not sure what to say. No matter what I say, he’s going to hurt.

Kyle sighed and closed the book.

He picked up the paper and began to doodle in the margins while he etched out in his mind what he should say to his father. Finally, when he felt ready he began to write.

Dear Dad,

I have some good news and some really lousy news to share with you. I’ll go with the lousy news first because I know you’ll skip to the end anyway if I don’t.

I ran into mom today, literally.

Everything we were carrying hit the ground. I didn’t even recognize her at first. When I did and said "Mom?" she turned white as a ghost. Then I kind of lost it and screamed at her. It didn’t make me feel any better. And I actually felt worse. And someone had already given her a black eye shortly before I ran into her.

Dad, I don’t know if you knew anything about this or not but I know I never knew. Mom is a witch. It must have been her genes in me that were activated when I was shot by Agent Pierce.

Anyway I don’t know whether I will ever see her again. And I probably made sure that any future meeting is completely rocky but I couldn’t control my words at that moment. I wanted her to hurt like I had. If I could apologize now after a few hours of calming down I would. Then I would ask all the questions I’ve always wanted to know.

Well, I promised you some good news. We are going to be going to special classes during the afternoons during the school year and they are making arrangements so I can play Quidditch for the house team, well if I pass the tryout in September. It’s a sport that is much more interesting and challenging than football. And it is played on flying broomsticks. Dad there is nothing like flying.

Liz may have forgiven me. She helped me through this afternoon and her advice helped a lot. She also kept me from turning back and making a fool of myself.

I just wanted you to know what is going on. I wish I could have given you better news.

Kyle

Finally he extinguished his wand and went to sleep.

Michelle Valenti watched as her son as he disappeared from view. She struggled not to cry, nor to chase him.

Suddenly she realized that she was fidgeting with the tear in her sleeve and took out her wand to repair it. Quietly she muttered a mending charm over the cloth.

Only when she finished did she realize that the ache in her arm was not just a residue of her previous encounters with Kyle and Malfoy, she was being summoned.

She sighed with regret and defeat as she prepared to apparate to her master.

“Ah, here is Ms. LeFey now. So glad you could join us,” the cold, calculating voice of Voldemort said.

Michelle knelt before him until he sent her flying across the room.

“Woman, do you know why you are being punished?”

She kept her mouth shut, knowing anything she said would only result in more pain.

“You tried to raise your prices on the supplies you provide. You also took far too long to get here and when you arrived you were not properly attired,” he said then flicked his wand at her and once again she went flying.

But this time she was thrown against Lucius Malfoy, dislodging a vial of the dragon’s venom from the pocket of his robes. It fell shattering as it hit the ground.

Angrily he kicked her away from him and she lay still in her agony hoping to not displease the Dark Lord again.

“Temper, Lucius, temper,” Voldemort said in a tone that implied amusement. “We’ll have her bring you some more venom. And this time it will be for free, since she caused that vial to be broken. In fact, she will bring you five vials for free to replace that one, won’t you, my dear?”

“Yes, Master,” she replied quietly.

“Excellent. You see, Lucius, all she needed was a little persuasion. Didn’t you say you also needed some from a Southwestern Turquoise dragon?”

“Yes, Sir, I did,” Malfoy oozed.

“Then Ms. LeFey, you will bring him 3 vials of the replacement venom and two of the Southwestern Turquoise. You need to bring it in ten days when you are summoned again and only then will your account be cleared of this debt. Now leave. You have work to do,” he concluded.

She didn’t have to be asked twice. She apparated back to her flat to try to soak out the aches and examine the bruises on her petite frame.



Two days later, Roswell, NM

Michelle glanced around at the city she’d left behind six years before. God, I hated this town, with its trashy, cheesy alien themes, all those tourists and the insufferable heat. Not to mention the almost scandalous lack of selections down the one magical alley in town and these ridiculous muggle clothes. Yet I wish I’d never left. I felt so safe then. She sighed heavily and walked forward remembering the past.

It had been almost eighteen years earlier when she’d arrived in Roswell for the first time. She had been after Southwestern Turquoise venom then as well. She had actually gotten the venom but had been injured by her mate when he had returned suddenly. She’d had barely enough strength to stash the venom before she collapsed beside of the road. A couple of hours later she’d been discovered and rushed to the hospital. Three days later when she’d woken up she’d met Jim Valenti for the first time. He wanted to know if it was her husband or boyfriend who had beaten her and left her for dead out in the desert. His pleas that she let him help her from “whatever seemingly hopeless situation she was in” were comforting to her tired soul. He had visited her daily throughout her recovery and they grew close. When she’d left to finally deliver the venom two months later, she was carrying his son. As soon as she had realized her expectant condition she returned to him and they were married. She had even learned to live as a muggle woman. Only after she had begun hearing the rumors of the return of the Dark Lord did she realize that if she stayed neither Jim nor Kyle would be safe, so she left to protect them from the perils of a world they knew nothing about, and hopefully never would.

The flashing blue lights ahead brought her thoughts back to the present as she saw the man who once was her husband at work clearing a traffic accident. She blended into the crowd and watched him working. He was still strong and handsome. She felt empty as she realized what she’d given up, all to protect him from the foolish decisions she’d made as a teenager.

She sighed and left going to collect the venom as she’d been ordered.

Two hours later, her vials full and her curiosity in control she returned to the house that had been her home for eleven years. She was looking over Kyle’s room when she heard the door open.



Jim Valenti dragged himself through the door into the living room and then on into the kitchen. He paused long enough the drop his hat, gun and badge on the kitchen table before walking to the refrigerator for a soda.

He was taking a long gulp of the soda when he heard the swish of clothing behind him. He spun, fully expecting to see his favorite “firecracker” since she knew the location of his spare key and had met him just two nights before wearing red bow around her neck, and nothing but the bow.

What he saw instead caused the color to drain from his face.

“Hello, Jim,” Michelle said stepping out from the shadows, her eyes cold and sad as she appeared in the robes she’d never worn in front of him.

“Michelle,” he acknowledged a lot more calmly than he actually felt. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m not sure really,” she admitted. “I saw Kyle the other day and then I was given an assignment in the area. Why didn’t you tell me that Kyle is a wizard?”

“Where exactly would I have sent the message? Fallen off the face of the Earth is hardly an acceptable address. Hell, the only reason I even knew you were alive was the divorce papers arrived from Reno seven weeks after you left and half of the savings account was gone. And do you know what else? There is no record of a Cassandra Michelle Morgan from Buffalo or anywhere else in New York. So really the question I should be asking is who are you?” he ranted then paused. “Wait a minute, you ran into Kyle?! But he’s….”

“At Hogwarts. Yes, I know. When did his abilities finally manifest themselves?” she asked.

“As far as we know he’s only had the abilities since May,” Jim answered calming down.

She sighed, relaxing only slightly.

“Why does it matter?”

She explained, “These are perilous times in the wizarding world, and frankly it would have been safer for him to be powerless than for him to be a wizard known as my son. I have enemies. And worse than that I have ‘colleagues’ that would love to recruit him or do worse to him just to torture me. I really don’t want him to have to deal with either situation. If he’d shown any signs back then of having magical abilities, I would never have left. I would have stayed in hiding just to protect him and you.”

“Is that all our marriage was? A hiding place for you?” Jim spat furiously.

“Not really. I did love you. I still do and if you think it was easy for me to just walk away then you really don’t know me. I did it to protect you. I walk a dangerous rope everyday. If I had not have gone back when I did then they would have hunted me down. And finding me they would have killed you and then Kyle while I would be forced to watch and then, if I were lucky, they would kill me.”

“Who are ‘they’?”

“The Dark Lord and his followers. So I returned to them without giving them a reason to question my loyalty and they have never been told about either of you so you should be safe,” she explained.

“So, are you a witch? And what is your real name?”

“Yes, I am. Cassandra Michelle LeFey,” she answered quietly.

The clock on the wall struck the time. Seven o’clock.

Jim suddenly panicked. “Crap! I have a date tonight and she is going to be here in fifteen minutes. I need to get ready.” He took off towards the bedroom.

An eyebrow raised she called down the hall, “Anyone I know?”

“Yeah, Amy Deluca,” he voice answered back.

“What?!! That nutcase?”

“You lost the right to object the moment you divorced me,” he replied.

“Honey, I gave a false name at the wedding, technically we were never married. I just got the divorce so that you wouldn’t keep looking for me.”

Ten minutes later he walked back in the room wearing fresh jeans and a clean shirt. He carried his boots and sat down to put on the clean socks first.

Damn, he still looks good, she thought as she took a step towards him.

“I’d better go, since she’ll be here any minute,” she said, leaning over and kissing him goodbye. She stepped back, noting the traces of lipstick she’d left and disapparated.

Maria sat down to rest her weary feet. She knew better than to wear this particular pair of shoes to work, but they were Michael’s favorite and so she wore them anyway. Of course when she’d gotten to work she’d discovered that he had changed shifts again and was not working. It was all that she could do to not cry from frustration. How was she supposed to convince him that they were supposed to be together if he wasn’t there for her to try?

She looked over to the counter where Max sat moping yet again. That boy seriously needs to get a grip. Maybe if he weren’t so damn willing to "cool off" where Liz is concerned he might stand a chance. Unfortunately they can both be so selfless that they are going to miss each other completely if they aren’t careful. She shook her head, pushed her self up and walked over to the counter.

"Ok girlfriend, I hate to do this to you but we’re closing in like five minutes. I need that glass so I can finish the clean up," she told him.

"Huh?! Oh, right. OK. Here," he said handing it to her. He pulled money from his wallet and set it on the counter with a sigh.

"Look if you want to continue this mope session, then go over to the video rental and rent Steel Magnolias and Beaches. Then meet me back at my house in half an hour. You’ll have to deal with sob infested chick flicks and have to help me paint my toenails. But I promise that you will feel better after watching both of those flicks," she said thinking, If for no other reason than to realize that you aren’t dead yet so it isn’t over.

"I don’t know," Max said looking a little pained at the thought.

"Just scoot. If you’re there, then fine. If you aren’t, then fine. Got it? Good. Go," she said firmly steering him out the door and locking it behind him.

Jeff was at the register cashing everything out. He laughed as Maria turned the lock. "Has anyone ever told you that you will make a great bouncer when you are older?"

She tried to look stern and glare at him but the laughter was infectious.

When she got home to her surprise both her mother and Max were both there. Amy was slamming pots and pans around the kitchen and muttering under her breath.

"Maria, Have you seen the popcorn pot? I need popcorn. NOW!" Amy said hysterically.

"Mom? What’s wrong? What happened?" Maria said rushing to her mother’s side.

She threw her arms around her daughter’s neck and began to weep.

Maria worried that something terrible may have happened guided her mother to the living room and mouthed to Max as she passed, Make popcorn.

She heard him moving to do just that as she settled Amy on the couch. She handed her a box of tissues and said, "Ok, what happened? What did he do? He didn’t hit you did he?"

Amy took a deep breath and with a shaky voice began to speak. "You know I had a date tonight?"

Maria nodded.

"Well, I got there and Jim seemed very odd. But then again a lot of things were very odd. Anyway, he acted like he’d never been so glad to see anyone in his entire life. But then when I went to kiss him I saw it. There were traces of lipstick on his face. It looked like he had already washed his face when they were put there. So of course I freaked and started shouting at him about kissing someone else right before we had a date. He kept insisting that he hadn’t kissed anyone. But when I asked him to explain the lipstick, he clamed up. So I left and have been throwing things ever since. I mean, really, how can he deny kissing someone when I saw the lipstick for myself?"

Max cleared his throat from the doorway, "Um, popcorn is ready."

Amy’s eyes fixed on the bowl and then gave Max a look that implied, What are you waiting for?

Max brought the bowl to the coffee table and said, "It is possible, you know."

"What is possible?" Amy questioned.

"It is possible to have not kissed anyone yet have traces of lipstick."

"How?"

"Think about it. If someone he didn’t want to kiss, had kissed him wouldn’t he say that he hadn’t kissed anyone? Wouldn’t that also explain the relief to see you?" Max stated.

"Mom, that also might explain why he wouldn’t tell you who it was. Especially if he didn’t want anything to do with that person, ever."

"Oh God, I’ve done it again haven’t I? Reacted first, then thought it through. How can I face him now?" Amy wailed.

"Mom, go. Go face him now and talk about it before you have a chance to sleep on it and get even more embarrassed. I mean it. Go. Talk. To. Him."

"I thought you didn’t like him?"

"I didn’t. But he made you smile when you hadn’t for a while and that bumped him up a couple of notches."
Maria winked at her mother then herded her out the door.

As she went back to the couch she thought of Jeff’s comment from earlier and laughed again.



Kyle woke with a start. A dream. A stupid dream… thank God. He took several deep breaths trying to calm his pounding heart.

He picked up his watch. Two o’clock. Great… Like my sleep wasn’t bad enough already without the dreams of my mother boiling me in a pot for native cannibals to enjoy… He sighed. Maybe some meditation will help. But where? Not the boy’s lavatory again. Maybe the common room? Yeah that’s it.

He climbed out of the bed and slid on his slippers before padding downstairs as quietly as possible.

He sat slowly down in a chair first, planning to move down to the floor in a couple of minutes. He noticed the fire was still going in the grate. That’s odd. The fire usually doesn’t keep burning after we all go to bed.

He looked around and noticed Harry huddled in a chair by the fire seeming to stare into the flames.

"Couldn’t sleep?" Kyle questioned softly.

Harry jumped at the sound. As soon as he could speak without a shaky voice he answered, "Yeah, something like that."

"Me too. Actually I was sleeping but I was having nightmares. My mother had me in one of those large kettle cauldrons, cooking me for the local cannibals. And I was screaming, ‘Mom, Don’t do this. I promise I’ll clean my room…’ I guess it kind of sounds silly now," Kyle said with a small chuckle.

"It does, just a bit," Harry said with a slight smile. "I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned your mom before. Is she really strict with you?"

"No. Well, actually I hardly remember since I don’t live with her anymore. She left us a few years ago. Strangely enough I’ve only seen her once since then. Anyway the dream had me kind of worked up so I thought I’d come down here away from Fred’s snoring to meditate and try to relax. Did you want to try?"

"Um, sure. If you don’t mind?"

"I don’t mind. Just remember I’m not a professional at this, so no guarantees, but we’ll try it anyway."

They sat on the floor near the fire and slowly Kyle talked Harry through the steps. Then he allowed himself to meditate. Half an hour later Kyle brought himself out of the trance-like state and guided Harry back out as well. Soon both boys were back upstairs sleeping peacefully in their beds.

It was 7:30 before Kyle stirred the next morning. He stretched and groaned. As he looked around to get his bearings he saw the bag from Honeydukes and wondered if his father had received his letter yet.

He let the thought drop as he realized the time and jumped out of bed to face the day.

Two weeks later, Hermione received another owl from her father with another article from the conspiracy newspaper, Checks and Balances. This one was more disturbing to her than the previous one.

June 10, 2000

Shots Fired Again in Roswell

Eight months after local waitress, Liz Parker, appeared to be gunned down (but miraculously recovered moments later) in her family’s restaurant, another shooting has occurred in Roswell, New Mexico.

Unlike the previous shooting, this one had few witnesses. Milton, the owner of the UFO Museum, opened his doors to find the museum in shambles. Bullet holes riddled the projector screen and back stage there were bloodstains on the floor.

According to Milton, the building, which is a converted bomb shelter, has only one entrance and it was locked when he arrived. The only other key is in the possession of Max Evans. (Incidentally, Evans was missing for three days at the same time according to the police report filed by his parents.)

Oddly the only cars reported in the area at the time of the incident were a couple of County vehicles and a sports car owned by the local sheriff, Jim Valenti, but typically driven by his teen-aged son, Kyle Valenti.

Checking with local records shows no ballistics report was done on the bullets recovered at the scene. So what exactly is Sheriff Valenti hiding about that night?

Also reported around that same time was increased activity at the supposedly abandoned Eagle Rock military facility. Could another government conspiracy be in progress and if so, how many branches of the government are involved? We’ll continue to keep our eyes trained on the "Cover-up City" and will report on our findings.

Hermione sank numbly into the seat by the window, wondering, what does that mean?


Twenty minutes later, she was still sitting there staring out the window trying to sort through the things she’d read when Kyle walked into the common room.

She tried to shuffle the article under her books all while trying not to look guilty and afraid as she looked at him. This was a dismal failure as Crookshanks using his half-Kneazle intuition chose that moment to pounce, scattering her books and papers across the floor.

Kyle had looked for her as soon as he had walked in the room but the different emotions that played across her face had almost kept him away. That is until he’d seen the orange fur-ball spring into action keeping creating a little whirlwind of chaos that he thought, with a grin, was "DeLuca-worthy."

"Here," he said, scooping up the two largest books and setting them on the low table, "let me help you."

"Tha… ank you," she managed to stutter out half in anxiety from the article and the other half anxiety from her own emotions. "I can’t imagine what made him so…so…"

"Kitten-ish? Playful?" He offered with a flirtatious grin.

She couldn’t help but smile back.

She watched as he leaned forward again and began gathering up her papers. She saw his back stiffen and his hands freeze as he found the article. Mentally, she berated herself for letting her guard down while questioning whether this was a blessing in disguise. She said nothing while he read the article.

"I guess it would be too much to hope that this was just a coincidence, huh? Um, So, where did this come from?" he asked as nonchalantly as he could as he lowered himself to a nearby chair.

She waited to respond until he had looked at her. What she saw was not the anger or as much fear as she expected but mostly curiosity with maybe a touch of relief thrown in. She decided he deserved at least some honesty in her answer. "Initially, I was curious as to why you would appear on the lists so late. It was almost unheard of. But then I overheard your argument with Liz in the Leaky Cauldron that night and I had a true mystery on my hands. So I did my research into Roswell and came up with very little here. My father, however, is what I think you Americans call a ‘Tabloid Junkie.’ He came up with two articles. That one, of course, and this one about Liz," she finished pulling the article from the pocket of her robes.

Kyle let out a long sigh. What could he say that would reassure her but not sound trivial? ‘We come in peace!’ was too cliché and hardly reassuring. Finally he asked quietly, "Are you afraid of me?"

She thought about it seriously for a moment. "No, not really. And yes, a little, but not for the same reason," she said blushing.

He made up his mind then and there. Unlike Liz with Max, he felt no real compunction to guard the alien secret religiously. It was his secret to tell, too, after all. "Hermione, do you trust me enough to go somewhere a little more private to talk? I’ve got something to tell you that I think you are ready to hear…"

Hermione led the way to the one place she was certain they would not be disturbed, the third floor corridor. Still largely unused since the incident with the sorcerer’s stone, the corridor was dusty and unkempt. She turned into the room where the trapdoor had been and found that it now housed several old teacher’s desks, worktables and benches.

Kyle pulled a bench free, tested it for sturdiness and motioned for Hermione to sit down. Once she was sitting he began pacing in front of her. “I’m not really sure how to begin,” he stated.

She nodded with understanding but was driven by the greater need to know, whether to protect her friends or for Kyle’s need to have someone to talk, she didn’t want to think about. “Are they true?” she prompted.

“For the most part, yes,” he agreed. “I’m not sure about the first part of the article of Liz’s shooting, but yes we were both shot. Max Evans is some sort of ‘Alien King Tut’ and has healing abilities and saved both of us. I didn’t know that Liz had actually been shot until the day I was shot. When I got home and showered I saw the silver handprint on my chest. After that I put two and two together and for once I actually got four instead of seven or nineteen or whatever the lies Liz, Max or Dad were trying to pass off as the truth added up to.”

Kyle paused in front of her, meeting her eyes as he continued, “As you know, I saw my Mom in Hogsmeade the other weekend so I’m pretty sure I know where the wizarding genes came from. She said she thought I was a squib. When Max used his “Wondertwin Powers” to heal me, it must have activated those dormant genes.”

Hermione appeared stunned as she asked quietly, “So Aliens really did crash in New Mexico? And a guy you know is one of those Aliens? He looks human? How old is he?”

He nodded as he answered and began pacing again. “Yes, Max looks human. He looks like he’s my age maybe a tiny bit older but not much. According to Liz they floated around inside pods for a while and ‘hatched out’ about eleven years ago appearing to be age 6 or so. But they believe the pods are from the crash back in 1947. They were found them wandering around naked on an old desert highway and the people who found thought they may have been traumatized and abandoned in the desert. They were taken to children’s services. And that same family that found Max and Isabel adopted them. Michael wasn’t so lucky. And I don’t know why Tess didn’t hatch then, too.”

“So how do you know that they are not wizards and witches instead of ‘Aliens’?” she asked giving voice to the question that had haunted her for days.

He paused again and this time moved to sit by her. “There are a couple of reasons really. The first is the silver handprint thing. It’s an Alien signature for when they take a ‘hands on’ approach with people, either healing or killing. Back when my grandfather was sheriff, he had a killer Alien on his hands. Everyone thought he was nuts, including my dad, up until Liz was shot. But then she was shot and was healed and tried to pass it off as ketchup. But I saw the handprint and told dad, he found the dress and there was a bullet hole and blood. He went off on a hunt to find the truth and finally got it when a stupid super secret special unit of the FBI captured and tortured Max…Liz turned to him for help and he did… in the process I got shot because nobody told me a thing and I was stupid enough to rush to ‘help’ my dad against the ‘evil Max.’ The head of FBI secret unit shot me. Max healed me. I’m alive. Of course I didn’t learn most of that that until after I was healed and Professor McGonagall showed up and I finally talked to my father and Liz about what actually happened.

“The other thing is that Liz has actually seen the pods. She doesn’t like to talk about it but she has,” he concluded.

Hermione nodded just a little shaken. “Ok, we’ll go with the belief that Max is an Alien. Also we know that you are at least a part blood wizard who didn’t come into his abilities until you were healed. What we don’t know is if Liz has any wizarding blood in her family. Are the two of you the only ones who have been healed by Max?”

His brow furrowed as he thought a moment, before he replied, “We are the only ones that I know of. I think he wants to keep his secret identity secret.”

She reached out and took his hand and was surprised by the jolt of electricity she felt. She quickly covered it up as she explained, “I can understand that but what we have to find out is if Liz has any wizards or witches in her family. Because if not Max has the ability to make muggles magic. Did she say if her parents mentioned anything about it?”

Stunned by his own little lightning bolt, Kyle ruffled his hair with his other hand as he struggled to think clearly. “Um, actually Liz’s parents think she is at a special advanced academic school in the UK. We didn’t mention anything about it being a school of witchcraft and wizardry when we left. My dad knows but agreed not to say anything. She didn’t think they could handle it. I guess she was afraid it would bring up too many questions about the previous year. But as it turns out she is going to have to fess up in order to continue her afterschool lessons. Those are Dumbledore’s orders. Though, honestly, I think Snape is afraid we will blow ourselves up in his class and he’ll have to explain why,” he said with a twinkle.

“I wouldn’t want to be there when her parents find out she lied to them,” Hermione said concerned.

“You’re telling me, you’ve never seen her father mad,” he shuddered. “Let’s just say there’s more than one reason I’m glad I don’t date her anymore.”

“More than one?” she asked hopefully.

“Oh, yes,” Kyle teased, “Besides not hearing her father lose his temper at me anymore, I get to flirt with you without guilt.” They both blushed at this but then he continued, “Speaking of which, while this room has been perfectly private for this conversation, we should probably be going soon, it wouldn’t look good for your reputation to be away with me alone for so long.”

“That crowd? Other than Ginny most of the time they all see me as one of the guys. Besides, I trust you,” Hermione argued, but allowed him to pull her to her feet and lead her out the door.

“But I’m not entirely sure that I do,” he half muttered under his breath.

Kyle told Liz the truth the next day. He approached her in the common room that evening as she was studying for exams. His shoulders slumped as he sat down in the chair across from her and folded his arms in front of him. “I had to tell Hermione,” he stated matter-of-factly hoping it wouldn’t be the beginning of the end of their friendship.

Liz looked up startled from her Charms textbook and said, “What are you talking about?”

“You know,” he said pointing meaningfully towards the ceiling, “’E.T. phone home.’ Look, she was doing research on her own and dropped these in front of me.” He handed her the Roswell articles.

As she read, she became more and more alarmed. By the time she looked up sheer terror was in her eyes.

“Relax, Liz, they came from some Sci-Fi conspiracy theory paper or magazine that has a little less credibility than the grocery store tabloids,” Kyle reassured her.

“But Kyle, it wasn’t your secret to tell. You could’ve explained it away the same way you just did, as impossible nonsense,” she blustered in a harsh whisper.

“Hermione knew just how much of the impossible was probable so I needed to explain. She’ll keep the secret. Besides, part of it is now mine to tell. Just like part of it, at least, is yours to tell should you ever need or want to share it with a friend on the outside.” With that he looked pointedly over towards the twins in the corner and stood to leave.

“Liz, you've spent the last year trying to do this alone. I may not like him, but you are not alone,” he stated as he left to do his own studying.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning Liz received an owl from her mother in an oversized envelope.

Dear Liz,

Oh, how we have missed you this summer and I am glad that it will soon be over. I am including your tickets from London to Miami. Your Aunt Laura is so looking forward to your visit. You know she’s a little different but also know how much you love spending time with her when she visits. I love her dearly and am so glad you will have the opportunity to get to visit her at her home. She says she is already cleaning so you won't have to worry about anything for the few days you are together.

Also I am able to say we sent off your packet for Congresswoman Whitaker. Your father and I are so proud of you. I am so amazed at all the special programs available to my special girl. We love you.

Take care and fly safely. See you in about 10 days.

Love,

Mom

Behind the letter were the latest information packet for the internship and the envelope with her tickets. She smiled to herself as she started upstairs after breakfast, nearly giddy with the anticipation of meeting her aunt and the newly presented opportunity of the internship.

The next three days were going to be filled with exams so she returned quickly to her studies.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Saturday, after the three grueling days of exams, Liz woke late, ate breakfast and began to pack. Tomorrow they would return to the States. As she was packing she ran across the letters from home and remembered George comforting her through that afternoon when she had raced off into the woods, and frankly since that first day on the train. And she remembered Kyle’s words from a few days before. Perhaps there was some wisdom there. Hadn’t the burden seemed lighter when she was able to be honest with Alex? Only now Alex was right there with her trapped in the middle of the Alien Abyss. George wouldn’t be. I wanted to tell him that day in the forest but I stopped myself. Now Kyle is telling me I should tell him... It is so tempting

She paced and debated as she gathered the majority of the rest of her belongings back into her special three-lock trunk. She left out only what she would need for the rest of that day and the next morning. By the time she was done she heard the other two girls headed upstairs to pack and she had decided to find George to talk.

They decided to walk around the lake more for the privacy than for the scenery. After a couple of moments of quiet reflection, Liz sighed heavily and then began.

“George, What I’m about to tell you can’t be told to anyone in the muggle or magical communities. I’m only telling you because you've earned the right to know what's been going on with me. You’ve held my head when I’ve cried on your shoulder and told me you didn’t think less of me for it. I appreciate that," Liz began.

"I would never tell your secrets, Liz. As for the rest, I was where I wanted to be, helping a friend," George admitted sheepishly.

Liz nodded, then began her tale. "I think I’ve told you that less than a year ago I didn’t really have the ability to do magic, right? What I didn’t tell you was that I think I know why I do now. I wouldn’t have a couple of months ago, but the same sort of thing happened to Kyle, and then Professor McGonagall showed up and here we are.

“George, we were normal kids, muggles, or maybe a ‘squib’ in Kyle’s case, maybe that is why he manifested so fast. I don’t really know for sure,” Liz babbled.

“Ok, so what changed that for the two of you?” George asked, trying to guide the conversation.

“Max,” Liz answered, softly.

George looked confused as he asked, “Your betrothed deposed royalty ex-boyfriend?”

“You remembered all that?" she asked.

"It's not everyday I get to save a lovely damsel from a forest. It's sort of imprinted there," He admitted a little chagrinned.

"Ok, then. Lets start back at how I got my magical abilities awakened and I'll explain the rest as I go along. It’s like this, last September, after school was already in session, and after spending the entire summer as Kyle’s girlfriend, I was working one afternoon. There were some locals from town in the restaurant, tourists for the crash festival, and two guys who could have been truckers or lumberjacks or hunters were arguing about money. The argument got violent and a gun appeared and went off. I was shot. I fell to the ground with a stinging bullet in my belly and apparently I was losing blood fast because things were fading around me," Liz paused and watched George for his reactions as she continued.

"I just remember Maria screaming and then there was Max telling me I had to look at him. Then where I was shot felt kind of warm and then all better. I realized my dress was open and his hand was on my belly. He poured ketchup on me and told me to tell people that that was what was on my dress not blood. And then he took off before the police could get there. But he healed me, with his hands, and the best I can tell triggered the genes in me for magical ability.”

His eyes had showed fear, wonder and finally joy as she finished. Then he glanced down at his own hands and asked quietly after a moment, “Did you show signs right away?”

“Looking back, yes, but I didn’t know what I was happening so I kind of brushed them off. It really wasn’t until May when Kyle was healed that I started to admit it to myself, but I never said anything to anyone else. And then the letter from Hogwarts arrived and things really came into focus.”

"So is Max what happened between you and Kyle?”

"I could say we drifted apart but I’d be lying. I was bored. He is a good friend and had spent the summer being a loyal boyfriend but there was no chemistry. Nothing brought that home like looking deep into the eyes of the guy who had just saved my life. Max, the one who deliberately lived in the background all his life until that day, never doing anything to draw attention to himself, trying to stay hidden, jumped out and saved my life. Maria used to tell me he would watch me all the time before then so it kind of made since later when I asked him why he would basically jump out of the extra terrestrial closet just then in front of all those people and he said simply, ‘It was you.’ Way to make a girl feel great and give her a guilt trip all at the same time but anyway, I’m babbling.

”Um, did you just say ‘extra terrestrial’?” George asked somewhat bug-eyed.

“Yeah, as in not of this Earth." Liz answered with a little lilt.

"So the betrothed deposed royal ex-boyfriend is an alien?" George clarified.

"Yes," Liz nodded and bit back a laugh before she continued.

She stood up and began to pace as she continued, "Anyway, back to Kyle. After all those weeks of no chemistry, he kind of noticed when things between us got tense and practically, well, glacial. And there were more sparks between Max and me than that pack of fireworks you used at Harry’s birthday party. Then my grandmother got sick and Kyle's friends beat up Max to try to keep him away from me so I broke up with him for having friends like that. I'll admit I was looking for an excuse and I didn’t care that it was lame; I used it anyway. I think because of all that Kyle still has some pretty harsh feelings towards Max.” By then Liz was pacing as she babbled.

“And those ‘harsh feelings’ couldn’t have anything to do with the fact that in spite of all of those sparks you are currently miserable and not with Max?” George questioned.

“Well that is a different issue altogether. You see there were actually 3 aliens in my school for most of my life… recently a fourth showed up. She's been the bane of my existence. She's trying to weasel her way into their lives spouting diatribes on destiny and trying to force them to see things her way, literally. You see Tess has the ability to make people see what she wants them to see. I don't know if the others know this, but she just feels different. She oozes malice in my opinion but that is definitely biased. You know how you describe most Slytherins, she'd come in and they'd crown her queen. And to make it worse she is the betrothed," Liz spat venomously.

“Anyway, the same day Kyle was healed, they all returned to the place where they ‘hatched’ and I went with them. That is when they got the message from their mother about being clones of deposed assassinated royalty sent to Earth for their safety and one day triumphant return. They were also supposedly mates, Max and Tess, with Max being the King and she the Queen. She went on to talk about their great destiny," she appeared to deflate as she concluded.

“Afterwards, I just walked away. Max would have left his destiny and his people to the wind if I hadn’t. I’ve been miserable and getting nasty notes from the monster bitch queen ever since. This summer away has been a Godsend.”

“You said that this Tess cow was the one going on and on about ‘destiny.’ And then you all get a rather convenient message confirming what she said when you're alone. And you stated one of her abilities is to make people see and believe what she wants, right? So, how are you so certain that the message was genuine?” George asked bluntly.

Liz sat for a minute, openmouthed and brows furrowed, before quietly stating, “I… don’t.” Her face became brighter and more animated as the smile started to unfurl. “I don’t.”

She launched herself at him and hugged him tight, laughing through tears, “Thank you, George.”

George buried his feelings once again as he said, “You’re welcome, of course. Now what do you say we see if we find a solution to keep her abilities from affecting you again?”

“Until we do I guess I'll still have to be distant to him, won’t I?” she asked, smile fading slightly.

“Unfortunately, yeah, probably so. How soon will you be returning here for weekend classes?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. We get our time schedules before we leave tomorrow. Our class schedules will be there the first day. So maybe tomorrow.” she answered.

“Well maybe on those weekends we can work on a solution against her ‘wiles,’” he winked and her grin returned.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” she said as they headed back towards the castle.

HI!!
I love this story!!!!
Is this repost the same es the one on fanfiction.net????
If it's not I will reread this post!!!

Could you make a chapter from the others who are still in Roswell and what they think about Liz and Kyle being in England???
I fogot do they know that Kyle and Liz are at the same place or do they have different stories for their friends????

I really wonder who they will end up with!!! Even though Max and Liz are a nice couple so are Liz and Kyle......

Looking forward to the next chapter!!!!


Aligewe

Aligewe,

Parts 1-31 are a repost of everything on FF.net with a few small edits. Part 32 is new since your last review over there. We will be headed to Roswell soon. But only the Sheriff knows that Kyle was in England with Liz. Everyone else thinks he is away at football camp.

Thank you for your encouragement.

LMiC