<BR><BR><B><I>Brenda McCartney <brenda.mccartney@gmail.com></I></B> wrote: <BLOCKQUOTE class=replbq style="PADDING-LEFT: 5px; MARGIN-LEFT: 5px; BORDER-LEFT: #1010ff 2px solid"> <div>On 10/1/07, Tashayar McCarthy <WOW_ITS_TASHAYAR@YAHOO.COM>wrote:<BR>><BR>><BR>> Brenda McCartney <BRENDA.MCCARTNEY@GMAIL.COM>wrote:<BR>><BR>> > > "A witch, dear," Phil said quickly, cutting off his wife's less<BR>> > > courteous response. He squeezed his granddaughter's shoulder. "Your<BR>> > > father got one of those when he was your age. Didn't know what to<BR>> > > make of it at the time, we didn't. But he went to the school. Done<BR>> > > him good, that's a fact."<BR>> > ><BR>> > > He leaned over and said in a fake whisper, "He was quite the hellion<BR>> > > before that. Not sure where I've seen another like him." He winked<BR>> > > mischievously.<BR>> > ><BR>> > > Sofia
looked as if she were about to burst with frustration. "Fine.<BR>> > > Just... fine! I can see I'll get no further now than I did twenty-odd<BR>> > > years ago." She stomped back down the stairs. "You just be sure you<BR>> > > take that blasted cat with you," she called back over her shoulder<BR>> > > angrily.<BR>> > ><BR>> > > "Cat hair..." she continued to mutter as she retreated down the hallway.<BR>> > > "This is a... good thing... right? I mean... am I... going to turn<BR>> green,<BR>> > or<BR>> > > - or dance around a glowing pot?" said Amber putting her hand to her<BR>> nose,<BR>> > > "I like the color I am. And I don't like to dance."<BR>> ><BR>> > "Heh heh," her grandfather cackled. "You'll be green only if you<BR>> > choose to be. Or if you fail Transfiguration... or drink the wrong<BR>> > potion." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "At any rate,
I'm sure<BR>> > it would only be temporary."<BR>> ><BR>> > "Good." A grin suddenly appeared on Amber's face after she said this,<BR>> "When<BR>> > do I leave?"<BR>><BR>> "Whoa, now. Hold on, my sweet. You haven't even written to accept<BR>> your position yet. And school doesn't start until September 1.<BR>> There'll be some cold nights at Kings Cross in your future if you haul<BR>> your trunk down there now." He grinned at her. "Write your letter.<BR>> Then we'll plan."<BR>><BR>> Amber groaned. She had to go, and soon. She looked at the calender that was<BR>> still placed on July, and wished someone had invented a time-machine. "How<BR>> will we send back the letter if we don't have an owl?" Amber asked, her<BR>> voice returning to the normal accent.<BR>><BR>"You know, I wondered that meself when your father received his<BR>letter," Phil said in that voice that sounded like he was about to<BR>launch into a
story. "Almost didn't make the deadline, we didn't.<BR>The poor lad had it all written and placed in an envelope, there by<BR>the window, while we tried to figure out what to do with the bloomin'<BR>thing. And didn't we about fall over when a big ol' barn owl swooped<BR>in, grabbed the letter pretty as you please, and flew right back out<BR>the window.<BR><BR>"They know, my sweet. Don't ask me how, but they know."<BR></div> <div> </div> <div>"Magic" said Amber with a devilish grin.<BR>_______________________________________________<BR>HogwartsBetween mailing list<BR>HogwartsBetween@gamera.cc<BR>http://gamera.cc/mailman/listinfo/hogwartsbetween_gamera.cc<BR></div></BLOCKQUOTE><BR><p> 
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