Harry Potter 1. Prologue

Hello! I know to start out with, I'm only going to have my very loyal friend reading this (Thanks, Gin!) but hopefully it will attract some other attention eventually. And, if you like it, I'd appriciate it if you would read my other stories, which you can find by clicking on my user name up there in the left corner.   
  
Disclaimer- Nothing is mine! Anything you recognize from J.K. Rowling's work is hers. Any mention of any other material type things was probably invented by some rich inventor, and any movies, books, etc. is probably owned by someone else too. I came up with the idea, somm of the characters, and all the other things you see in such disclaimers. Now, if this doesn't disclaimer doesn't satisfy you, do me a favor, go look at someone elses, and then come back to read!   
  
Summary- Foster child, Farren, meets the marauders and tried to tip them off about their future without changing it. The impossiblity of this task ways heavily on her all ready scattered life, but she copes. In the process she learns for the first time what friendship really is like, but even more important, she learns about love. She keeps a sketchbook and draws in it whenever anything important happens.  
  
Prologue  
  
Farren Valencia Alma carefully sorted through the gold and silver jewelry that lie on the drab, brown blanket that covered the cot in her small room. Outside her door, she could hear the sounds of the nineteen other children, who all needed to be placed in foster or adoptive homes. Farren was sixteen and the oldest child at the Texas based orphanage, which she referred to as simply The Home. She was also the only child ever to have lived at The Home for their whole life. She did go to foster homes, it was just that she never got adopted by them, and they all sent her back pretty quickly. The longest she had stayed was five months, the shortest 3 weeks. She glared at the jewelry, immediately feeling bad. She didn't have long to brood on the feeling, however, because she soon heard wailing outside her door and six-year-old Anya Wellings burst in.   
  
Anya's brunette hair was tangly and flying, her face was red, and her pretty, but unusual amber colored eyes were filled with tears. She rushed to Farren, threw herself into her arms, and sobbed. Farren wasn't surprised even though it had been three weeks since Anya had thrown a tantrum. Ever since Farren had befriended the finicky child, Anya had behaved better than anyone in The Home had ever seen her act. Farren supposed they must have told her the news, and she couldn't help but mentally sigh.   
  
"Th-they said you was goin' away again." Anya sobbed, once she had sufficiently calmed down enough to talk.   
  
"Oh, sweety, the found some new foster family for me. But you know they never adopt me, and when they don't adopt people, they send them back right away." Farren said softly in Anya's ear. She really wished The Home would stop trying so hard, because she would just assume stay in her teeny bedroom here, and help with the kids, and leave in two years, when she was eighteen, going to college, and a legal adult.   
  
Anya sniffed and held her a little less tight. She smiled uncertainly and began to look around the room.   
  
"Can I help you pack?" she asked, sniffing.  
  
"Sure, Anya-Anna-Banana." Farren Replied cheerfully.   
  
"Will you tell me the story of the trunk first?"   
  
"Again?" Farren teased.  
  
"Yes!" Anya said, sticking out her bottom lip in the pout that Farren had taught her to use.   
  
"All right." Farren said with false exasperation. "When my parents decide to have a baby, they later realized that they were to young to properly raise on." She began, and paused for the question that always came.   
  
"Why did they change their minds?" Anya asked predictable.   
  
"I suppose they didn't know how hard it would be until later. Anyway, my parents decided to bring me here, and they seemed to know I would have some hard times, and so they gave me a name to fit that."   
  
"Farren Valencia Alma." Anya said in a hushed voice, like always.   
  
"Yes. They decided that my name should mean Wanderer, Brave Soul. Of course, they didn't have much choice about the last name."  
  
"Alma."  
  
"Yes, Alma. And so they brought me here, and filled out all the papers, and gave me my grandmother's trunk, which at the time was filled with all the stuff that you need to raise a baby. But, inside it there were a few other things. There was a Faith Hill C.D., which was my mother's favorite, at the time. There was my fathers football helmet-"  
"'Cause he was still in high school when he had you." Anya chimed in.  
  
"Yeah, exactly. And there was this jewelry box, with all of the jewelry of my great grandmother, and her daughter, and her daughter, who is my mother, and now my jewelry."  
  
"And, the pictures, don't forget the pictures!" Anya said quickly.   
  
"And there was a picture frame, with three slots in it. Two were already filled with my mother and father's senior pictures. And soon, my senior picture is going to be in there with them." She finished and gently pushed Anya off her lap. "Now, I'll do the checklist, you tell me if it's in there, alright?" She asked, unlocking her trunk and went back to sorting the jewelry.  
  
"You're so lucky, Farren." Anya said softly after a moment of thoughtful silence.   
  
"Why do you think that, Anya." Farren said, confusion in her voice, privately thinking that she was anything but lucky.   
  
"You have some stuff that was your parents'. And you don't have to miss them, 'cause you didn't even know them. And you have your own room here at the home, 'cause you are the oldest person here and cause you practically work here when you're not at school. 'Cause your parents are still alive, even if you're not with them."  
  
Farren was shocked, a tiny bit angry, but mostly, she felt terrible. Anya's parents had died a few before in a terrible fire during a family reunion. The fire had taken every relative that could have possibly raised her, and a few that couldn't. The fire was the reason Anya was well on her way to being the next child in this orphanage who wouldn't get adopted (after Farren, of course). She pulled Anya closer to her and hugged her gently. "Do you know why else I'm lucky?" She whispered softly.  
  
"Why?" Anya said sadly.  
  
"I have you as a friend. I'm going to come back real soon, and then we'll be together again. And when we are, I'm going to ask Mr. And Mrs. Dugs to let you share this room with me. Does that sound good?"   
  
"Yes! O-tay, I'm ready." Anya's six-year-old voice said happily. Farren inwardly marveled at how quickly she could switch moods.   
  
"Alright. Do I have my five Harry Potter books? How about the Princess Bride book? One Bible? Two pairs of P.J.s?" She asked.  
  
"Check, check, check, and check." Anya said happily.  
  
"Good! Socks? Underwear?"  
  
"Yep, um, four, six, no seven pairs of all of it, one for each day!"  
  
"Excellent. Robe? Shirts? Pants? Jeans?" Farren mentally pictured each stack in the trunk.   
  
"Yeah, black night robe, um, te-no twelve shirts, two black jazz pants and two khaki, and er, four pairs of jeans."  
  
"Marvelous! All right, is my personal bag in there? What about my picture frame and baby blanket? What about the C.D. and helmet?"  
  
"The one you still use, even though it's too small." Anya said. It wasn't a question, just a fact. "Yes, and then all that's left is the space where the jewelry box goes. You forgot to ask me about your wand!" Anya said happily.   
  
"Is my wand in there?" She asked for Anya's benefit, mentally wishing she hadn't ordered the $40 wand when she was 12, which was very realistic looking, but not very practical. It was really cool to have, especially when Anya wanted to play, but when she needed a lot of money, she always wondered if she shouldn't have bought it. However, it was still something that she really loved.  
  
Farren quickly finished with the jewelry box, put it in the black and gold trunk and closed it up. 'Three latches, two locks.' Farren thought to herself as she did up all of them. She slid the two keys into her pocket and began to drag the box to the middle of the room. Then she pulled Anya into a hug and whispered in her ear.  
  
"I'm going to be gone before you wake up, so when I tuck you in tonight, remember to hug me real tight after prayer, okay?" She asked her.   
  
"O-tay." Anya said seriously. "It's bath time. I promise to be real good so the last thing you remember about me till you come back is that the dogs think I'm very obdiant."  
  
"Obedient, Anya. What you mean is obedient. Besides, you shouldn't call Mr. And Mrs. Dugs the dogs. How bout I help you with you bath tonight, huh?" She said, thinking about how hard the two owners of The Home were working on 'The Farren Case'.  
  
"Yes! Farren's gonna give me a bath, Farren's gonna give me a bath!" Anya said happily, chanting all the way into the hall and down to the bathroom, which, miraculously, was empty. Farren glanced in the mirror at her long auburn hair, small hazel eyes, 5'3 ½ frame, and pale countenance, and wondered if her new foster family would like her. She couldn't help hoping that they wouldn't and that they would send her back very soon.   
  
"Guess were a little late, huh, Anya?" Farren asked, as she set about cleaning the active little girl with her favorite smelling soap.  
  
"You know what, Farren?" Anya asked happily.  
  
"No, but I do know his cousin which; she's real nice." Farren said jokingly.  
  
"No, I mean I have something to tell you!"  
  
"Oh, well why didn't you say so? What is it?"  
  
"I think that God wants you to go, so I can talk to him more, 'cause I won't be able to talk to you . I think that he has something important for you to do there." Farren was extremely touched. She had just recently been able to convince Anya that Jesus was real, and now, everyday after school, she read some bits of the Bible to her. Farren herself was an avid believer but recently, it seemed to her that her faith was weakening terrible. First, she had watched people who had once had her as a foster child adopt three children from this very orphanage. Then, the Church she went to in Austin had burned down, and no one could take her to the other one. Now she was leaving again. She couldn't help but wonder if she was being tested, or if there wasn't a God.   
  
'I wonder when I'll see you again, Anya. I really do. You're the only thing in my life that is completely pure, and good, and believing. I need you to keep my faith strong.' She thought remorsefully. Out loud, however, she only said, "How about we build a mountain with Farren's shaving cream? Just this once."   
  
End of Prologue 


	2. Chapter 1 Collins Town, Colorado

Chapter One   
  
Collins Town, Colorado  
  
Collins was a drab Colorado town. It hadn't taken Farren long to realize that! The school had a good winter sports team, an embarrassing football team, and, their pride and joy, laptops for every student. Farren had to admit, that was a bit of a plus, because it meant she could read and write Harry Potter Fan-fictions while she was supposed to be doing her work, and do it at home instead. The whole school was very technology-ized, and instructions, links, worksheets, textbooks, science labs, test, quizzes, grade books, really, everything, was on the computer. The teacher's here got paid for walking around the classroom and finding people who weren't doing their work. And they didn't do a very good job at that because already today, Farren had wrote and uploaded two more chapters on her Fan-fic and read three chapters on someone else's.  
  
But, there was something about this place. The school colors (Maroon and yellow-gold) were somewhat familiar. The oldest, abandoned part of the building seemed to hold a whispering secret. The number 27 football player reminded her, for some reason, of her father, though he looked nothing like his picture. And the older teachers constantly upon seeing her whispered profusely and stared at her penetratingly as she passed.   
  
The bell rang and she quickly gathered her stuff and walked out of the room with her head down, keeping a low profile, like she'd done all this week, her first week here. She entered the science classroom, sat down in her seat, which was in a far right corner, closest to the door, between two other empty desks, and behind two empty desks. She figured the less people knew her the less likely it was that anyone would find out she was a foster child. Mr. Odem, the mean old world war II veteran and science teacher, gave her a nasty look, and she knew he was going to torture her, or try to, again.   
  
On Tuesday, her first day of having him, he had made her stand up in front of the class, and tell them all about herself. Mercifully, she had managed to avoid the subject of her foster home, and this had seemed to infuriate him, for some odd reason, that she could never guess! Then, he had began to ask her millions of science questions, seeming to want to prove she was stupid, but to his disgust, she had answered every one perfectly, barely with holding a smile. Afterward, someone had told her that she had never seen him act that way to a new kid. Farren wondered why he hated her more than he hated every other kid who passes through his classroom. As quiet as she was being, you wouldn't think she would enjoy this stick that she had over his head, but she'd never let her true personality really shine through at anywhere other than The Home. In reality, she was enjoying his pathetic attempts to bring her down and break her confidence, and inside, she was sniggering profusely at her private joke.   
  
As the class came in and sat down, Farren slid her laptop into her desk, knowing that it would be awhile until the class would need them. She could see it in Odem's eyes. And, she was right.   
  
"Class, I have a little, well, surprise for you." The sallow skinned, greasy, gray haired, and watery-eyed man said unpleasantly. Judging by the groans, this usually meant a pop-quiz, something, Farren realized, she'd have to do now, and not later, which meant chapter fourteen of Lily and James, A love hate kinda thing, would just have to wait. Luckily, however, it was not a quiz.   
  
"Four young British boys have recently been adopted by an American, who lives right here in Collins. Though the four are adopted brothers, they are not blood brothers, and have opted to keep their own last names. I expect you to make them very welcome to Collins Senior High, is that clear?" He said, adapting a bored, like-I-really-care-about-these-stupid-new-kids'-background type voice, which was actually rather amusing. Farren had to try hard not to laugh, because in her mind she had just got the image of a vacuum cleaner, with his head where the handle would normally be, drowning away like it had been in use way to long. She pulled out a piece of notebook paper and began to draw the image, stopping abruptly when she heard the door behind her open.   
  
In the doorway stood four boys. Two had black hair. One's hair was extremely messy, which fit his thin face, hazel eyes, fit body, and semi-tall frame. The tallest of the group had black hair that fell mysteriously ('And cutely' Farren thought before she could stop herself) into his dark gray eyes. He was fit and more robust then the other, with an excellent smile. He didn't seem very aware of his good looks however, instead he just lounged casually against the desk and surveyed the room in a slightly haughty manner, which he soon dropped and instead grinned, looking truly happy to be there.   
  
The next boy was slightly taller the first and slightly shorter than the latter. He had dry sand colored hair and deep denim colored eyes, which looked as thought they had seen and experienced a lot. He looked slightly too skinny, but still fit and cute, if you liked that type of guy. He smiled a bit at the group and went back to speaking softly and reassuringly to the last and slightly frightened looking member of the group.  
  
The fourth and final boy was about Farren's height. He looked bigger boned than the others, wider but not really fatter. He had watery gray eyes and thick dirty blonde hair, that was cut short and that lie close to his head. He had a pointy, rat like nose, a nearly nonexistent chin, and high cheekbones, which all rather added to the fact that he looked like an overfed rat. He looked nervous and terrified, not at all like the calm and composed sandy haired boy, nor the I'm-just-happy-to-be-here tallest boy, nor the messy headed, grinning cheekily boy. Farren couldn't help but feel sorry for him.  
  
"Boys, would you get on with the introduction please, and stop just staring around aimlessly. I have a lesson to teach you know!" Odem said nastily, leering at the boys. They leered back, even the more sensible one that reminded her of Remus Lupin. They must have been getting bad vibes from Odem (which of course, were the only kind he could send out) and even the shortest one summoned up enough bravery to stick his tongue out briefly. Farren giggled and went back to her drawing.  
  
"I", said the tallest boy dramatically, "Am Sirius Black. Ya know, like the Dog Star? And the color?" Sirius flashed a smile, and a few girls sighed out loud.   
  
'Wait.' Farren thought, drastically grasping at reality. 'He's joking. It's not possible that he's-'  
  
"James Potter." The messy haired boy said casually, rumpling his already messy hair as he went and smiling brightly. "My names not nearly as symbolic as Sirius's, but, ya know, there's more to a man than his name." He wiggled his eyebrows interestingly, as four or five girls giggled at his obvious suggestion.   
  
'Can't they tell he's joking?' Farren thought angrily. 'Besides, he can't be James Potter, one, because he's dead, and two, because he is a fictional character…isn't he?'  
  
"I'm Remus Lupin." The sandy-headed boy said sensibly. "And please excuse them. They like to prank, poke, prod, pilfer, commit acts of piracy, induce laughs, and otherwise maraud in general more than anyone I know."  
  
"You're a marauder too." Sirius said, smiling slyly at Remus, while still managing to look rather proud about his description.   
  
'You're not Remus! Remus has gone through things you haven't even began to experience!' Farren thought angrily.   
  
Remus ('he's not Remus') looked over at the last member of the group and seemed to know that he needed a little push in the right direction. "And, the brains of the operation, one true friend, all around good guy…" He announced dramatically, yet still helpfully.  
  
"Peter Pettigrew." The last boy said smartly.   
  
'You can't be Peter. 16-year-old fictional characters don't spring from books, go forward in time, travel to America, and use their real names. It's impossible, stupid, absurd, and would make a really good fan-fiction.' Farren thought uncertainly. She must be dreaming…  
  
All the sudden, Farren did become very sleepy. Warmth spread over her body and she felt her lids drop slightly. She forgot all about her suspicions, she could have opened her book to a chapter completely devoted to the Marauders, and still not notice. She slumped down in her chair and stared at the boys through half-closed lids, thinking that there was something odd about them just the same.   
  
"Ms. Alma," Odem broke through her sleepy feelings and immediately brought her back to his cold, uncomfortable classroom. "Why don't you show the boys around for a few days. Your schedules are the same, and you all ready have a few things in common. " She saw many curious faces turn towards her and she glared at him, not being able to stop the tears that welled up in her eyes, for she had a sudden pang of Anya-sickness. She glared at him, not blinking, and he turned away first.   
  
Suddenly, she noticed movement on either side of her. She glanced to her right and was shocked to see the boy named Remus. Suspicion shivered through her, but she couldn't figure out why. She glanced to the left and saw Sirius, and in front of her sat the animatedly talking Peter and James.   
  
"Can we sit here?" Sirius said cheerfully. She just nodded and looked back at her desk, trying to ignore the funny disbelief that was blooming in her stomach. They seemed fine enough. Sirius seemed taken aback at her lack of enthusiasm, and began to fiddle with his computer. Something told Farren that he wouldn't know how to use it, of course, but she didn't understand what was telling her that. Suddenly, she felt Remus gently touch her elbow. She jumped and turned to look at him.  
  
He seemed to be asking with his eyes more than his mouth what was wrong. She sighed. However, something told her she should tell him, that she could be trusted, because he had experienced pain too.   
  
'Why do I keep getting these, these, vibes about these boys and their personalities? I don't know them!' Farren thought exasperatedly to herself, but that something was still pushing at her to tell Remus, and so she did.   
  
"I don't like Odem. He, well, made a remark about how I'm a foster kid and how you guys probably were too, except you got adopted and I never, in all my life, have in met a family who even had the slightest interest in adopting me." She saw a bit of guilt in his deep blue eyes, which looked, to her, like a dark pair of well-worn jeans. But, in his eyes she also saw some confusion. "Er, maybe you call them something else in Europe. Where something happens to your parents and they send you to an orphanage, and then the orphanage sends you to other people's home, and if they like you, they adopt you, and if there's problems, they send you back to the orphanage."  
  
She could see the bewilderment in his eyes at this long and slightly hysterical explanation, but in his eyes was a different emotion too- deep understanding. He looked at her and softly said, "I'm sorry. I truly am." That was it. He put no frills on it, he didn't joke uncomfortably or gush his apologies, and instead he simply stated the truth. Farren felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude to Remus. Her mood brightened exceptionally, and she turned to Sirius and began chatting animatedly, not even noticing the confused look he was shooting over her head at Remus.  
  
Remus suddenly started chuckling at her side. She turned and saw he was looking at her drawing of Odem as a vacuum cleaner. "Good drawing." He said, his eyes glittering handsomely. "Bad paper, with the lines and everything. You need a sketch book."  
  
"I can't afford it. Foster kids don't get much allowance."  
  
"He grinned and said, "Well then. We'll just have to do something about that won't we?"   
  
Later, Farren was in a considerably better mood as she carefully balanced all her materials and led the four boys around, keeping up a running commentary as she did. Several girls gave her nasty looks and she couldn't help but grin innocently in their direction.   
  
'37 hate me, only 53 left!' She thought to herself in her mind, not caring that she was never, ever, going to get any girl friends in Collins, because when she was around the four boys, she felt and acted more like herself than she had since she had left Texas and The Home. She thought she might have found some real friends, some people that really knew what her personality was like. As long as she learned to ignore those little urges in her stomach that were telling her that of course she liked them, because she practically all ready knew them.   
  
'What do urges know anyway?' she thought to herself. She led them to 'World Issues Discuss and Debate Class' which most kids called simply 'Debate'. It was, without a doubt, the best class the Collins board of education had ever come up with. Mr. Hordan, the Debate class teacher, was rather short and distinctive. He had dark sandy brown hair, which had the tips died blonde from a class challenge that he had unwisely agreed to. It was the common opinion that Hordan was the best teacher, and that 'Debate' was the easiest and most pleasurable class. It was a class where being opinionated meant getting an A and where logic and high values often showed up. It was the only class in all of Collins Senior High that every student liked, and even Farren let her true personality shine through in Debate. The best thing about Debate though, was that Hordan actually taught them, not just put information on the computer for them to read over. Sure, they used the computer, but Hordan taught too.   
  
"Hey, Hordan!" she said brightly to the professor and coach. He grinned at her and looked curiously at the four boys behind her.   
  
"It seems you are liked Farren. How shocking!" He joked. "And what, may I ask, are you boys planning on doing when naïve Farren does realize you presence?" His voice was light and joking, but Farren heard a bit of suspiciousness and protectiveness in it. She however, knew just how to put him at ease. She joked right back.   
  
"I know! They've just been following me around like lost dogs all day, I can't get rid of them, and when I asked Odem about them, he told me he couldn't see them! I mean, really!"  
  
"Honestly, boys, why would you like Farren? I mean, look at all that hair. And she's so pale, and she's got that weird accent. It's mostly Texan, but it's got a west coast twinge, and a sophisticated East Coast way about it, and then-"   
  
"It's mostly Texas!"  
  
"And she's so short. And tiny-petit-ish, you know?" Hordan continued on as though he hadn't heard the interruption.   
  
"I wouldn't be talking, Hordan. You're not so tall yourself!" Farren countered right back.   
  
"Taller than you." Hordan said in a snooty tone.   
  
"Taller than you." Farren mimicked right back.   
  
"Oh, just tell him who we bloody well are, please!" Sirius's voice broke through. Farren burst into laughter, and Hordan and the other boys soon joined in. When Farren was calm enough, she explained their presence.   
  
"These are new students from Europe. The same person adopted them, and they live here now. I'm showing them around." She glanced at Hordan and knew he had got the message she had been sending him. Hordan was, by common approval, the best teacher in the school, but he was also the friendliest and he seemed to have taken a special liking to Farren and her rocky life. For four days, she had ate lunch with him and spent her free hour in his room, talking to him about everything; her dreams and hopes, her college and career plans, her foster home, her Anya-sickness, everything, really. He was, without a doubt, the nicest teacher she had ever met. In her mind, her father's personality was rather like his.  
  
"How nice to meet you," he said, smiling, "And what might your bloody names be?" He put on a fake British accent that wasn't very good, and exaggerated a bow to the boys. They introduced themselves and he got curiously sleepy, as did many members of the class who had not yet met the boys. Farren stared around at the class's odd behavior, flinching when her eyes landed on Spencer Smith.   
  
Spencer was a nice looking boy, but that was the only nice thing about him. He had dark brown hair that was loosely wavy and that lay perfectly on his head. He had cold blue eyes and was tall and fit, from being the biggest jock, the most popular jerk, and the meanest womanizer you had ever laid eyes on. He was loud, crude, obnoxious, and rude. He was also the son of the mayor and his trophy wife, who managed his campaign and press dealings. But worst of all was the fact that he was Farren's new foster brother.   
  
At that moment, Spencer was flashing his strait white teeth at a blonde in the front row, who was very popular, very pretty, but who also had very high morals. She sent him a warning look and turned to Hordan, who was at that moment asking them to open their computers.   
  
Farren opened her computer and clicked on the Internet icon. She went to the address site (http://www.hordanisthebest.com/untouchables, click on the link http://magma.nationalgeographic.com/ngm/0306/feature1/index.html) and then helped Peter with the computer, which he seemed to be having a lot of trouble with. Actually, all the boys were having trouble, but Peter was having the most. Hordan then began to read to them about the untouchables, adding bits and pieces of his own knowledge, like he always did. On Monday, Farren's first day, they had just finished up with a briefing of the Hindu caste system and religion. Ever since, they had been zooming in on the Untouchables, the lowest of the lows, and how they were treated. Normally, Hordan had explained to Farren, they spent three to five days on the discussion, and one to two on the debate of that topic, theory being that if they knew nothing about the topic, they wouldn't be very good debaters. However, they had spent a grand total of seven days on this subject now, but tomorrow, the debate would began.   
  
"Now, look at the man in the picture. See how he is underfed, how his legs are non-existent below the knees, and how he looks like he has a lot of pride and disregard towards the photographer? He has been beaten by attackers, who are angry with him for buying a simple plot of land, and for working with animal skins. As you all know, Hindus are strict vegetarians, they don't even eat eggs, and to them, it is a crime to work with the skins of animals. They believe that because he is an untouchable, yet he is rising through the community, that he should be attacked. However, since this is technically illegal, they come up with other reasons to attack him. Who wants to read the article for me? Farren?" Farren began to read the article, pausing so that Hordan could add things in. Every once in a while, she herself would stop reading and give an opinion on the subject, which made many of the class-members groan. By the time the class was over, they had finished the article and discussed the pictures that went along with the story.   
  
The bell rang loudly and Farren began to leave. Her laptop, three books, binder, and folders tottered riskily, but she managed to keep them balanced. She turned to the four boys, about to tell them about the next hour, but before she could she was swept away by her elbow. Farren felt herself be pulled out the door backwards in a rush of bodies, and she wondered who had her arm. She was pulled down another hallway, into the oldest and neglected part of the building, and pushed against the wall. She looked up into Spencer's eyes.   
  
"Mother would not like that you have no friends, other than a bunch of nasty British rapists, and that you haven't even been spoken to me since you got here, which was really stupid of you, because I'm the only one who care enough about you to save you when one of those immigrants hurts you." His grip on her arm was exceptionally tight, his voice was low and mean, and his eyes showed anger and unremarkable jealousy.  
  
"A, those immigrants are nicer than you are, A1, they have not yet shown any sign that they want to hurt me. B, your mother is not my mother, C, you father is not my father, and so, conclusion 1, I do not need to hang around people who your mother finds appropriate and not hang around with the ones she doesn't. Conclusion 2, you don't care about me at all, and so you could only be doing this because you like me and that's not much incentive for me to do what you want, is it? Conclusion 3, I will do as I please, because neither you, nor you family, really know what I'm like, personality and interest wise, and so I see no reason to honor your requests. Good day to you." She pulled harshly out of his grip and walked quickly down the hall, jogging once she was out of Spencer's sight, and running strait into Remus. The jolt was enough to stop her, and, in his surprise, Remus grabbed onto her shoulders and held them gently.   
  
"You all right?" He questioned, shaking her slightly and staring into her eyes. She pulled out of his grasp too and leaned against a locker, which she later realized was hers.   
  
"I was just having a friendly talk, with my lovely foster brother, who bloody doesn't want me to be with you four, because of his own bloody selfish reasons!" Farren breathed deeply, as the boys stared at her in a bit of shock.   
  
"The angle has a devil side." Sirius commented dryly, which was just enough to get her started laughing. Then she broke into song.   
  
"We're rascals, scoundrels, villains, and knaves  
Drink up me hearties, yo ho  
we're devils and black sheep, we're really bad eggs!  
Drink up me hearties, yo ho  
  
Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me!" She twirled exaggeratedly and curtsied to the boys. They burst into a fresh wave of laughter. Peter stared at her uncertainly.   
  
"It was from one of my favorite movies. Pirates of the Caribbean; Curse of the Black Pearl. Have you ever seen it?" The boys stared at her uncertainly. "Apparently you haven't. Maybe Mrs. Smith will let you come over and watch it. Maybe even tonight!" She was becoming quite excited. "Come on, let's go borrow Hordan's phone and ask. But, it has to be all right with you adoptive parents. I'm sure they have the movie on DVD; I saw it on top of the television. And then your parents could pick you up after dinner and the movie. What's wrong?" She had realized that they weren't nearly as excited as she was.   
  
Remus hastened to explain the situation the best he could. "Didn't your brother just say that he didn't like you around us. It wouldn't go over well with him if we suddenly appeared in you house, would it." Farren thought it sounded like he was covering up for something else, but she didn't press it.   
  
"It wouldn't go over well with him, he wouldn't like it." Farren mimicked in a rather good accent, grinning at Remus. "All the more reason to bring you over, huh? I love getting him confused and angry." Remus grinned, his prank side coming through a bit. Farren grinned up at him happily, looking up into his eyes and felt her stomach twinge slightly. He stared in her eyes as well, his expression mirroring hers.   
  
"We'd love to come!" James's voice brought her back to the present, and she looked away from Remus embarrassedly. Sirius watched this with great interest. Farren decided it would be best to avoid his eyes for a while too.  
  
"Maybe you ought to call you adoptive parents." She reminded him, grateful that she could look him in the eye.   
  
"T-They won't mind." Peter piped up.   
  
"Well, if you say so. I'll go call Mrs. Smith. She said, knocking gently on the door of Hordan's room. He answered it and ushered her and the others inside. Hordan looked very happy to see her.   
  
"Oh no! She's back! What am I being punished for, huh? Tell me what I've done!" He went into such a realistic fit of hysterics that Farren had to cover her mouth with her hand so as not to let him see her giggles.   
  
"Hi to you too." She said sarcastically. " I need to use you're phone.   
  
"And look! The dog pack is still following her around! I have to deal with all five of them. ARGGGGGHHHH!"  
  
"Hey," Sirius said, sounding slightly offended. "Dogs they are not, sir. Sir must learn that these are good, respectable knights that sir is talking to. Now, sir may proceed in calling me a dog, good sir. This lad is a dog, sir!" His renaissance act was funny, but something about the way the others laughed made Farren suspicious. A dog? Did he mean that literally? She knew Sirius liked dogs, but why would he call himself one? That almost made it sound like he was an animagus, except for the fact that the thought was impossible and ridiculous.   
  
"You're joking, aren't you?" She asked, looking up at Sirius and momentarily becoming distracted from the phone call.   
  
"Of course he is, why wouldn't he be, he's joking!" James said, sharing an odd look with the others. They seemed to nod in agreement. Farren shook her head.  
  
"No reason, it was a stupid idea, impossible really." She muttered to herself. "So, Hordan, how about that phone, huh?" Hordan nodded, and handed her the phone still giving her a rather odd look. She took the phone and avoided all of their eyes, her mind racing.   
  
She dialed her newest number, and listened to it ring. As she did, she watched the boys and Hordan fool around in the middle of the classroom. After three rings, Mrs. Smith answered.  
  
"Hello, Smith residence, Marsha speaking," She said crisply over the phone. Farren couldn't help but snigger quietly. This was the fifth Smith family that fostered her, but they were the only ones who answered the phone quite like that!  
  
"Hey, Mrs. Smith. This is Farren." She said once she had controlled herself.   
  
"Farren, sweety, hi! Is everything all right?" She actually sounded interested in Farren's going bouts. Farren was surprised, because she had never seen this personal side of her. She hastened to reassure her.   
  
"Oh, yes everything's wonderful! I met four new friends."   
  
"Oh, sweety, that's excellent. I'm sure they're very nice people. Who are they?"  
"Well, er, you don't know them. They new here, just came in today. They're from Europe. But, see the really exciting thing is, they were once foster kids too, but somebody in Collins adopted them! But, see, they're all boys." Farren wondered what Mrs. Smith's reaction to that would be.  
  
"Oh! Well, that's a surprise. But you say they're nice. And they treat you with respect? And they're proper young men, like my Spencer? They would be, growing up in Europe, wouldn't they?"  
  
"Oh yes, they're very nice. And, they're very mature and intelligent. Rather clever. Their personalities kind of differ, but they all fit together well. And they are proper; of course, their orphanage was in England! They like jokes though, but they're nice jokes, and the boys are wonderful to talk to-" She stopped when she realized she was rambling an that James was mouthing the word 'liar' to her.  
  
"Oh, well they sound like wonderful young men. We'll have to have them over some time. I wonder who adopted them? Surely I would have heard about it?"  
  
"Well, er, that's what I wanted to ask you. If it would be all right with you, I'd like it if they rode home on the bus with me, ate dinner with us, and then watched a movie."  
  
"Oh, dear, that would be wonderful. I'll bring them home of course it would only be proper. Sure, Farren sweety, that will be fine. See you at 3:30, all right?"  
  
"All right, Mrs. Smith. And thank you, this means a lot to me. Bye." She hung up and turned to look at them. "She said yes." 


	3. Chapter 2 Dinner, Movie, and Feelings

Thank you all sooooooo much for the reviews, I'm very grateful to Rebecca Reilly() who gave me a very well rounded review. Let me explain about the time frame, Rebecca (Leisa). I want it to seem very obvious that she's from a very different time period. I want to show her as a real kid, someone like us, who just happens to meet the boys. And she has to know about the fifth book. Thanks to Ginnifir, who loved all my stories from the start, and QueenofIce on hp.com, who inspired me to read The Princess Bride, which I mention in the prologue. Thanks also to Aireglarien and Anarah who said they loved this story. Now I feel really nervous about this part because of all the reviews. I don't want to disappoint anyone. Please excuse the boring parts (like when I'm describing the house) because I couldn't help myself.   
  
Nothing is mine. It's J.K.'s work with my ideas added in. Except for the Pirates of the Caribbean part. That was that Gore director guy's. Anything in ** is directly from the movie.   
  
Chapter 2.   
  
Movie, Dinner, and Feelings  
  
"Good!" James responded enthusiastically to Mrs. Smith's positive answer. "Now, where did you get the impression that we were raised to be proper?" Farren laughed.  
  
"You said it was in England. And if you are polite, and don't horse around too much, she'll love you. Please, just pretend! Use those skills that you learned at Hogwarts balls, and when you're meeting ministry workers and such." She slapped a hand over her mouth. She hadn't meant to say that last bit, she'd just done it on an impulse, and now they were staring at her in the weirdest way.  
  
"S-sorry?" She tried meekly. "It just popped out. I'm not even sure what made me say it." The four boys shared another one of those looks, and another nod.   
  
"Well," Remus said in a brave attempt at conversation. "I'm glad we get to go. Now, don't you think we ought to be getting to class?"   
  
Farren giggled at the question, because she had asked the same to Hordan on her first day during last hour. "Last 35 minutes is spent doing anything of your choice. Library, study hall, phone calls, stuff like that. We should probably get our bags though, so that when we the bell rings, we have our stuff."  
  
"We do have homework, don't we?" Peter said suddenly.  
  
"Yes, we do. Sorry." Farren said to him kindly.   
  
"But, why?" Peter said, reminding Farren forcefully of Captain Jack Sparrow in the movie.   
  
"'*But, why the rum?*'" Farren laughed, not being able to help herself.  
  
"She's completely off her rocker." Sirius said dryly.   
  
"I think she's quoting that movie again," Remus said fairly, before grabbing her arm. "Come along, Pirate, we must get our bags-er treasure, and what-not." He pulled her from the room gently, laughing as he did so. She stumbled behind them, pulling up when they turned towards their lockers, and going back towards hers.   
  
"We'll meet you back at the place where you make birth then, Ship o' Farren. Onward to our island and our treasures!" Sirius said exaggeratingly and began to skip down the hall in what Farren could only assume was his impression of a ship at sea. She turned away laughing, and fiddled the combination on her lock.   
  
Just as she was finishing grabbing her bag and tossing her books in it, she heard the boys returning. With many shouts of 'Sirius!' and 'You're making me seasick just watching you', they came down the hall, Sirius now tossing himself about like a ship lost in a storm. He ran right into Farren, knocking her to the ground. Sirius himself fell as well, but he did it with much dramatics and a call of 'Abandon ship! We're sinking mates! This is the end, those bloody pirates sunk us!'  
  
"Sirius," Farren said suddenly, once he was efficiently on the ground and quiet, "You were the pirate. How could you sink yourself?" The others laughed and Remus extended a hand down to Farren. She grabbed it and he helped her up, leaving Sirius on the ground to stand of his own accord.  
  
"Hey!" Sirius said in mild protest.  
  
"You're male." Remus said innocently. "Therefore, I don't have to help you up."   
  
"Farren acts to much like one of us to be a lady!" Sirius snorted. "Though I suppose we could always check…"  
  
"Sirius!" Farren said harshly. She leaned down slightly and smacked him on the back of his head.  
  
"Fine, fine. You act like one of us, but your still nicer and more feminine, and you most definitely look like a girl, and I will never again remark otherwise." Sirius said in a bored tone, as if he had done this one too many times. He rubbed his head and hoisted himself to his feet. "Girls get everything." He muttered softly. "Including me, so I suppose that's all right."   
  
"Oh, Sirius, shut-up. I mean that in the best way, of course." Farren said. Just then, the bell rang, and Farren led them through the crowds carefully, down the stairs, out the door, down the long row of buses to the very last one and got onto it. You could tell the parents paid more for their kids to ride this bus, because it was bigger, had dark blue upholstery seats, air conditioners and heat, a bathroom, and four mini televisions. The boys stared around in shock at the contents of the bus. That's why they didn't notice Spencer grab Farren's arm and pull her to the back.  
  
Spencer held onto her arm harshly and pulled her to the very last seat. He pushed her into the window and sat down next to her, grinning composedly at the people around him. Apparently, girls often sat back here with him, because no one questioned him, or made any sign of noticing Farren, except to give her a smirking look. Farren raised herself to her knees on the seat, looking around for the four boys. They stared back at her, looking shocked and confused. She made motions with her hands to tell them to sit down in a seat, and they did, saving her one. Spencer pulled Farren down from her knees and into the seat, as the bus started moving. She could tell from his expression that he was not happy.   
  
"Yu brought them home with you? I just told you what mother would think, and you brought them home with you? How idiotic can you get? It's not like they actually like you. You could do so much better than that group of …little boys." He snarled quietly, leaning very close to her face as he did so.  
  
"Oh, and I suppose you think you would be a better choice?" She said, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.   
  
"You should never suppose, Farren, but yes, I do think I would be." Spencer said coyly. He then leaned in even closer. "Besides, even though they're coming home with you this once, I can guarantee you they wont be back."  
  
"W-why?" Farren said uncertainly.   
  
"Because now, mother knows all about the terrible things they've been doing all day, and about how you feel about the way my family treats you. You know, how we don't even know what you're interested in? I took the liberty of telling mother your thoughts over the phone, likely just after you'd got off with her. Of course, I'd be willing to put in a good word for them…for a price."  
  
"What do you want?" Farren asked slowly. If Spencer had said terrible things about the boys, surely Mrs. Smith would believe him over a girl she barely knew? But if Spencer were willing to put in a good word for them, would it even help?   
  
Spencer grinned slyly. "You can start by going out with me on Saturday. What do you say? Remember, you're relationship with you friends is at stake!" Before Farren could even open her mouth to refuse, however, he had leaned in to kiss her.   
  
Farren was all ready smashed as far back against the window as she could be, and, having the window seat, she saw no way she could get out of the situation. But, she knew she had to try. She leapt up, pushed passed him, and walked quickly to the middle of the bus, dropping into the empty seat behind Remus and James and next to Sirius and Peter. The bus driver slammed on her brakes, pulled to a harsh stop, and stood up, glowering at Farren.   
  
The bus driver's name was Tanya Norlings. She was not very old, had long, curly blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and was rather curvy. She was very flirty and giggly, but at that moment, she looked terrible mad, reminding Farren somewhat of a spitting, angry cat. Tanya advanced slowly towards Farren, who could feel her uncertainty rising with each step Tanya took.   
  
"Were you just walking on my bus?" she said slowly. "You are only allowed to move around on the bus if you are traveling to or from the bathroom."  
  
"Well, I did move seats." Farren started hesitantly. Tanya snorted angrily and Farren was hit by a sudden idea. "But, I had a good reason. See, I was sitting back there with someone in the window seat, and I'm rather claustrophobic, and I was starting to feel very uncomfortable, and I didn't want to throw-up on him, so I had to move-" She looked up at Tanya innocently, imploring her to be okay with her explanation.  
  
"Oh." Tanya said, still looking suspicious. Farren thought she might have just made another adult enemy. "Well, all right. From now on, sit by yourself, okay?" She walked back up to the front of the bus and started it up again. The bus moved swiftly and smoothly, even without the customary loud brake sounds that normally a bus was associated with, but this was no longer enough to distract any of the four boys, nor a boy who was sitting behind her watching her so intently that Farren immediately felt his eyes on her long hair, and so turned about to face him.   
  
The boy was tall, at least six-feet something, but thin. He had no football like attributes; that is to say, his shoulders were not wide, his chest was of normal width, and he had a neck. In fact, she vaguely recognized him as the laidback, casual, and informal basketball star that was in her math class. He had red hair, cut short and sporty, but it was more carroty than Farren's long dark auburn tresses. His eyes were large, dark brown, and slightly exotic looking. He blushed somewhat at her abrupt change in attention to him.  
  
Despite the fact that he was a star on the court, much like how Spencer was star on the football and winter sports team, Farren though he was very different than Spencer. Something about the way that he was blushing because of her attention on him, and the spot he had chose on the bus, which was not in the back with the popular kids, nor in the front with the suck-up kids, made her think he was much more modest about his feats and social life. She couldn't help but wonder if all of Collins Senior High's basketball players were like him. It was a nice change.   
  
"Hello!" She said, skillfully arranging her voice so it was cheerful and covered up the lingering anxiety that Spencer's performance had left her with.   
  
But, being the laidback, to the point, basketball star he was, he wasn't fooled. "Hello. I'm Randy L'Keith. You're Farren Alma, aren't you? What was Spencer doing to you?"  
  
Farren was slightly shocked. "Er, nothing. Honestly, I moved because I'm claustrophobic."  
  
"Sure, you did. I bet that's the first time in the weasel's life he's ever been brushed off. Er, run off."  
  
"You don't like him either! Oh, good, I thought I was the only person in this whole school who saw him for what he really is."  
  
"Ahem!" Sirius's voice behind her made her realize what she was saying. She turned and surveyed them. Peter was staring three rows back at a girl, who was fixedly ignoring him. Sirius was looking affronted; she realized that they probably didn't like Spencer any more than she did, and she was acting like she hadn't even noticed. ('Oops!") James was looking at Randy suspiciously, like he didn't like that she'd forgot all about them when he'd arrived in the picture. But it was Remus's look that hurt her most.   
  
Remus looked as though he was trying hard to act normal. He was turned around in his seat, staring into her eyes. He grinned nervously, but Farren knew that it was a cover up, because all day she had seen his true smile, and it was not remotely like the one he was flashing now. His eyes were filled with diminished hope and cloaked hurt. She wondered why he looked so hurt. She wondered also, why his pain made her feel so guilty.  
  
"Sorry, guys. Spencer kind of pulled me back there while you guys were marveling at the buses contents. Randy, this is Peter, Sirius, James, and Remus." She smiled at them as she said it, her eyes lingering a bit on the dark blue depths of Remus's eyes. "Randy's in my math class. I guess he'll probably be in your guys' too, now that I think about it. The boys are coming over for dinner and to watch a movie." She directed this last bit a Randy, who raised his eyebrows slightly as he took in this information.   
  
"Hmmm." He murmured indistinctly, but his eyes held an emotion that Farren couldn't quite read.  
  
"You guys don't happen to call yourselves The Marauders, do you?" Farren said suddenly, on a whim.   
  
They looked rather surprised. Again they shared a look and a firm nod. "We do." James said, scrutinizing her with his eyes.   
  
"Cool!" Randy said, laughing. Farren had a feeling he was suddenly completely forgiven for whatever the reason was that the Marauders didn't like him. "That's funny. People have been talking about you four all day you know! Wait until I tell them what you call yourselves!" He seemed to think this was one of the most hilarious things he'd ever heard, as he fell into the seat laughing. Farren was hit with the sudden thought that he was like Ron Weasley. She giggled.  
  
"What are you laughing at?" Remus said to her quietly, while the other's talked enthusiastically to Randy over her head. She looked up at him, leaning casually over the seat back and smiling softly at her. She felt her stomach twist again.   
  
"I was just thinking that he is kind of like Ron Weasley." Suddenly, she felt caution stabbing at her stomach, and she thought that maybe she shouldn't have said that.   
  
He stared at her. "I-is he related to Arthur Weasley, perhaps. Or Bilious? Or what about the youngest girl, Elizabeth?" She stared at him. Did he read Harry Potter? But, some of those names was never mentioned at all in the books, was it? Something told her she should be quiet on the subject,   
  
"Um, maybe, I don't know." Perhaps he noticed her pale face and nervousness, but in any case, he changed the subject.   
  
"So, do the Smith's have any animals?" He asked, and Farren, grateful for the change, began to tell him about their fat, white cat Muffins, and how she had her own chair, which was bought just for her. The rest of the bus ride passed in a flash.  
  
When the bus arrived at Farren's stop, she gestured to the Marauders, thinking as she did so that they're was something ironic about them calling themselves that, but she couldn't put her finger on it. They tumbled of, laughing and joking, and followed her inside. She was walking particularly quickly today, so as to get inside before Spencer did. Luckily, she succeeded.  
  
"Hello, dear!" Mrs. Smith said as they came through the side door and into the kitchen, where she was working at the desk. The kitchen was huge, as was everything else in the house. But, since Mrs. Smith was Mr. Smith's campaign director, publicity manager, and secretary, the kitchen was the biggest of all the rooms in the house. There was a large cooking area, a kitchen table, and a small nook between the two that held the desk, a separate phone line, a small filling cabinet, and a huge window that always had the burgundy curtains on it pulled.   
  
Mrs. Smith looked like a secretary type person. She was of medium height, had pale skin, blue eyes, and long blonde hair. She was pretty, skinny, and curvy. Sirius gapped at her. Farren reached over and put her hand on his jaw, forcing it back up. He blushed.  
  
"Hey, Mrs. Smith. This is Peter and James." She pointed to the two of them, who were looking around in awe. "James is the one with impossible hair. And this is Sirius, and Remus." She smiled into Remus's eyes, before turning back to Mrs. Smith.   
  
"Oh, hello, welcome to our home!" she said happily, shaking each of their hands in turn. Sirius didn't seem to want to let go. "Farren, why don't you show the boys around, while I fix dinner? We can eat early so that you have time to finish the movie. Now, where did Spenc- Oh, there you are, sweetie, hi!" Spencer came in, looking as if he had sulked and procrastinated as much as he could. He glared at Farren nastily, but the look he gave the other boys was even worse.   
  
"Come on, I'll show you around." She said, gesturing to the Marauders, who followed her quickly out of the room. She showed them around, first the sitting room, then the office, then the living room, the family room, the laundry room, the two bathrooms, the library, and the indoor greenhouse (complete with dark green glass walls and ceiling). Then she led them to the stairs.   
  
"This place is huge!" Sirius exclaimed loudly.   
  
"It is. I'm surprised I haven't gotten us lost yet." Farren agreed. "I mean I just got here last Friday evening." She led them up the stairs to the second floor.   
  
On the second floor were bedrooms and bathrooms. She showed them the master bedroom first. It was huge, with many corners and turns. It had a large walk-in closet, and was done all in cherry wood. The canopy bed was high off the ground and had a deep blue and gold bedspread on it. There was an old fashion wardrobe tucked in one of the corners, and a piano in another. Around a corner there was a huge window with a cherry wood frame and deep blue curtains. Nestled beneath it were a window seat and three low armchairs in blue and gold, which looked beautiful against the gleaming wood floor.   
  
"Wow." Remus said softly from behind Farren.  
  
"Yep." James said in shock.   
  
"It's the nicest house I've ever been in." Peter piped up.  
  
Farren laughed. They sounded like her when she had first come. She then led them to the two guest bedrooms. Both were of medium size and rectangular, but one was done in soft amber colors and jade green, and the other was done in deep scarlet and cream. The Scarlet room had light oak and a small desk, while the other had two bookshelves and mahogany wood. Farren then knocked on Spencer's door.   
  
"Who is it?" He snarled from inside the room's depths.   
  
"Farren." She answered politely, ignoring his nasty tone. She heard quick pounding and the door was quickly thrown open. On his face she saw a look of intense lust and desire, but it quickly faded into a sneer when he saw her company.   
  
"Oh, " He said nastily, "You brought you're little…friends. What do you want?"   
  
"I just wanted to show them the room. Obviously, you are in a bad mood, so we'll be moving on." She said, knowing full well that being nasty back to him wasn't helping, but not being able to help it. She slammed his door in his face, and walked off, pulling Remus's arm with her. The others followed.  
  
"He didn't seem very happy at all! Oh, no he didn't. I wonder what has pretty boy upset?" Sirius said, a plotting smile on his face. Farren sent him a warning look.  
  
"NO pranks. NO jokes, NO snide remarks, NO anything! He'll come back and do something to me because of it. I know the Marauders' reputation." They all stopped dead.   
  
"You do?" Peter asked, looking twice as dim as usual. "H-how?"  
  
"Er-I don't know how." Farren said, wondering why that had slipped out of her mouth. "Lucky guess?" The boys were doing that glance-and-nod thing again. It was starting to get on her nerves. "Well, why don't I show you my room next?" She said hesitantly.  
  
They nodded, and so she led them past the bathroom, which connected Spencer's room to the one she was staying in. She opened the door and let them in. They surveyed it. The bed was a queen and was in the far right corner from the door. It's bedspread, along with the curtains, and lampshades, were ones of French blue. Her trunk sat in a corner, next to a table with a swivel mirror and the closet. A desk sat in the other corner, with an empty bulletin board above it. It was a nice room, but not very personalized.   
  
Later, Farren would reflect that it was a good thing she hadn't fully unpacked, because if she had, the boys might have seen five life changing things that came in the form of books. They stared around, smiled politely, and then Sirius and James, not being able to help their selves, leapt on the bed. Their wild jumping was amusing to watch, but Farren couldn't shake the feeling that something about the situation was wrong. The knowledge was eating at her stomach, poking at the corners of her brain, and racing through her blood, but she could not grasp the concept it was pushing towards her. Feeling slightly sick, she sat down on her trunk. She watched James and Sirius for a few seconds, but that made her feel distinctly dizzy. She switched her gaze to Peter, who was sniggering at the others and sitting on the desk chair. Remus sat down beside her.   
  
"Are you all right?" He asked, his honey colored hair falling onto his brow, and his deep blue eyes looking concerned and compassionate. She nodded slightly. It was perhaps a good thing that at that moment Mrs. Smith's voice echoed around the house, calling them to dinner. Sirius turned quickly in the air to survey the door, falling as he did so.  
  
"How did we just hear her? She's not even there!" He said, ignoring James, who was laughing at his fall, Peter who was covering his mouth up and snorting, and Remus, who had turned the corners of his mouth down as far as he could to hide his smile.   
  
"She had an intercom installed, to use for parties and stuff. It's a big house, you know?" She said innocently, but he could see her smile.   
  
"Humph." He said, and he led them down the stair and to the dinning room, mock pouting all the way. Farren laughed and followed behind him. She could hear the others behind her, exaggeratingly mimicking Sirius. She smiled harder, pushing away the misgivings that were still resting in her stomach. Sirius, following the smell of food, led them to the dinning room, where they were all standing around the chairs, waiting for Mr. Smith to arrive and sit first. The boys situated themselves in various chairs around the table. Farren had never eaten in the dinning room before, and was dazzled by the white linen, good china plates, and glassware. Sirius was nearly drooling at the sight of a whole turkey sitting in the middle of the table, along with some type of potato dish, and some spiced green beans.   
  
Mr. Smith came in and stood at the head of the table, gesturing for them to sit down. He looked a lot like Spencer, only older, kinder, and wiser. However, his eyes were green instead, and his wavy brown hair was receding elegantly towards the back of his skull. He sat on his chair with a natural grace and command, but he still looked kind and gentle. He smiled.   
  
"Ah, Farren, Marsha told me you would be bringing some friends home. How do you do boys?" He asked in his deep, even voice. They smiled and nodded through their mouthfuls of food. Farren introduced them, gesturing to each as she did, wishing that the family would focus on something else. Luckily, dinner was family time in the Smith house, and so their attention was soon on Mrs. Smith, as she told about her day and the phone call she'd gotten from the senior citizen home.   
  
"I'll have to look into it and see if we can afford to give them more money." Mr. Smith said, wiping his mouth buoyantly on his linen napkin.   
  
"How was you're day, dear?" Mrs. Smith asked her husband. The next twenty minutes were filled with boring explanations of expenses and loans. Farren had never been particularly interested and even Sirius had had enough food.   
  
"Farren, honey, why don't you take the boys to the family room and watch a movie, all right?" Mrs. Smith said gently.  
  
"All right. Thanks for dinner it was very good. I'm glad you had a good day, Mr. Smith." She said quickly and politely, pulling the boys from the room. The all breathed sighs of relief once they were out of the room. Sirius, somehow remembering where the family room was, bounded forward into it and plopped down on the couch.   
  
"I'm ready to watch this c c d thing!"   
  
"DVD, Sirius!" Farren said, laughing. "Honestly, you'd think you never watched a movie before." The boys exchanged raised eyebrows behind her back. Farren, not noticing slipped, the movie into its player and turned on the TV. Carefully, she navigated to the beginning of the movie and started it. Then she plopped down on the couch next to Remus. Sirius and James were on the floor and Peter was in a rocking armchair, seemingly enjoying it more than the movie.   
  
At certain parts, James and Sirius couldn't help but entertain them by acting them out, and Farren herself often said the lines of the characters along with them. This seemed to annoy Peter, but everyone else enjoyed it, and so none of the four made any effort to stop.  
  
"They're drunk!" Exclaimed Sirius nearly an hour later when the movie hit Farren's favorite scene, which involved a tipsy Jack Sparrow and a scheming Elizabeth Swann. Farren giggled and began to quote, doing such a good job that even James and Sirius stopped acting to listen.   
  
"'*It's not just a keel and a desk and sails, that's what a ship needs. But what a ship is, what the Black Pearl really is, is freedom.*'" Farren quoted right along with Jack, even doing the hand motions. Then she dropped down onto Remus's shoulder, fully planning on doing Elizabeth's part, not noticing Remus's flush, nor Sirius's smile, or James's raised eyebrows (Peter was asleep).   
  
"'*Jack,*'" She murmured softly, perfectly in tune with the actor, "'*It must be really terrible for you to be trapped on this island.*'"   
  
"'*Oh, yes.*'" She said, smoothly transitioning to Jack Sparrow's part. "'*But the company is infinitely better than last time. Scenery's definitely improved…*'" She trailed off, intending to switch to Elizabeth's part, in which she would push herself off of Remus (Jack) and chastise him slyly, while still managing to make him pass out. However, she never got that far, because Sirius leapt up and paused the movie, which he was getting very good at doing, as he'd done it three times now.  
  
"What is it now, Sirius?" She questioned, not moving, but staring at his sly smile and wondering if she should.   
  
"Well, it seems to me," He said, his smile growing larger, "That you can't play both parts."  
  
"I was doing just fine, thank you!" She said, angering a teeny bit.   
  
"I know you were! But, it seems to me," He repeated, "That Remus should be saying and ACTING Jack's part."  
  
"I don't know the lines!" Remus protested mildly.   
  
"Well, it seems to me-" Sirius began, but Farren interrupted him.  
  
"I didn't know Sirius could deduce so much at one time." She said softly, looking up at Remus, who smiled shyly.   
  
"AS I WAS SAYING," Sirius bellowed, "It seems to me that if I'D just had a pretty girl throw herself on my shoulder, I would improvise and do the lines the best I could. Especially if I LIKED HER!"   
  
Remus blushed deeply. Farren could actually feel heat radiating off him. However, being young and naïve as she was, the comment rolled right off her.   
  
"I suppose YOU would. But, see, there's some flaws in you plan. First, this is Remus, not YOU. Second, if Remus WERE to have someone he liked throw herself at him, he probably would have responded different than he did. And third, before you even start on who I like, do you remember what Hordan said?" James looked disappointed at the result of Sirius's matchmaking, Peter snored, and Remus relaxed. But Sirius just looked confused.   
  
"Um, Hordan said some stuff about Hindus, some stuff about dogs, oh yeah! He said something like 'Why would you like Farren?'" Sirius said, scrunching up his eyes to remember.  
  
"Precisely," Farren laughed. "People just don't like people like me like that. It just doesn't happen. And so, I'm free to throw myself at whomever I like, rather it involves quoting or not. They DON'T notice…or care." She stuck her tongue out at him. He stared at her incredulously.  
  
"Fine," He muttered, still staring at her disbelievingly. "Just because YOU don't notice doesn't mean REMUS doesn't." He said this softly, but Remus still flushed a bit. He then turned the movie back on. Farren picked herself off of Remus's shoulder and scooted over a little bit. The rest of the evening passed without event, but Sirius seemed a little put out. Farren wondered if he was trying to set her up. She wondered if she would let him.   
  
By the time the movie ended, Sirius was back to his old self. Peter had woken up in time to see the end and Sirius's near tantrum when he thought Jack was going to be hung. Farren had to laugh as Sirius bounced back to his old self. Mrs. Smith stuck her head through the door for the first time since dinner just as Farren was putting away the movie. She smiled at the five of them.  
  
"I'll have to take you home now. It was lovely having you. Next time I'll be sure to speak to you more. Farren, honey, I know you probably want to drive home with them, but Spencer's just told me that there was homework, and so I want you to get started on it, all right?" Farren nodded and walked with the boys to the car. In the garage she ushered them in to the mini-van and watched James stare with longing at the driver's seat. She giggled. Typical boys. James sat himself in the front; Peter squished himself into the window farthest Farren, with Sirius (unhappily) centered and Remus closest to her. They shut the doors and started the car as Farren waved. She stepped back a bit as they started to back up slowly, but she kept her hand on the window. Remus pressed his slightly larger palm against hers from the other side, and she watched them drive out of view. Remus's hand was still imprinted against the window and his eyes seemed to holler his disappointment at leaving. 


	4. Chapter 3 A Surprising Occurrance

Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Thanks to Ginnifir, who has always been there for me and for her mom, who is like a second mother and who even got over her H P weariness to read this story. This one is for you two.  
  
There is some reference to the Christian faith in my story, most especially in this chapter. I just wanted to let everyone know. I'm not trying to convert anyone, nor do I look down upon other religions. Christianity is simply FARREN'S faith. Also, in chapter one I mentioned a Faith Hill CD. However, the CD in question didn't come out until 1993. Please, just pretend it was out earlier, because I can think of no way to rectify my mistake otherwise. One last thing; There is this huge conversation between Remus and Farren that some would call flirting and some would call nonsense. If you don't want to read it, fine, but I (as in me), think it's rather interesting and will make you (as in you) laugh.   
  
Chapter 3  
  
A Surprising Occurrence   
  
When Mrs. Smith got home that evening, Farren was still doing her homework. Though she heard Mrs. Smith arrive, she neither went to greet her nor did she pause in her typing. She knew Spencer was standing just beyond her door to the bathroom that adjoined the two's rooms and she did not want him thinking she was going to listen to his furious tirade against the Marauders. She wanted to know, of course, where the Marauders lived and who had adopted the spirited teenagers, but she could not risk Spencer's wrath, not because she was particularly frightened of him, but more because she was afraid of the monstrous demon that seemed to overcome her when she dealt with people who she found mean and insolent. She rather liked it in Collins, though she could easily assure herself it wasn't because of the Smith family. Mr. and Mrs. Smith were nice, yes, but too formal, and Spencer was like a boy who was channeling the spirit of a monster. But in Collins, she had friends, which she found she often lacked, and the older Smiths were trying to make her feel welcome, and the Collins school still held an air of familiarity that was a mystery she was desperate to solve.  
  
She no longer had to worry about how she was going to learn about where the boys lived, however, because Mrs. Smith took care of that herself. She knocked on the door curtly, announcing her presence, and at Farren's approval, came in and sat herself down on the bed.   
  
"Farren, dear, have you finished your homework?" She asked kindly.   
  
"Just did," Farren answered, but in truth, she had been done for quite a while and had instead been typing up the next chapter on her story. Mrs. Smith nodded and looked around the room.  
  
"Farren, would you like me to help you unpack?" She said, looking slightly disappointed at the impersonalized room. Farren nodded and pulled her trunk towards the middle of the room, remembering doing much the same thing with Anya just a little over a week before. She undid the latches, and then the locks, and then pulled open the lid. Mrs. Smith gasped.   
  
Farren looked up, surprised, but Mrs. Smith was not focused on her and was instead looking into the depths of her trunk.   
  
"Farren! Do you know what that is?" She questioned excitably, pointing to her jewelry box.   
  
"A box that holds jewelry," Farren said slowly, not understanding the woman's frightening euphoria.   
  
"Well, yes, of course, but that is a Maolseachlann creation, they haven't been in the making for…oh at least 50 years. It's incredible. Looks like it's in quite good condition, still new looking, and so polished! How long have you had this? What's in it? They were never made anywhere other than Ireland, nor did they ship them out, so how did you get one?" She was so excited her words were barely legible, but Farren did understand that some part of her puzzle was solved. Her grandparents had come from Ireland. At least, one pair did.   
  
"I've always had it…always. My great grandparents were, perhaps…from Ireland?" She hadn't meant to end it as a question, but the yearning she felt for it to be true was so intense that she could actually feel the weight of it, pushing at her mind. Mrs. Smith's excitement seemed to drain out of her at these words, and she was instead filled with undeniable sympathy.   
  
"Oh, you poor dear," she said, pulling Farren close to her in an awkward hug. "Not even knowing where your grandparents are from, at least, not for certain." She looked at her with tears actually prominent in her eyes.   
  
"It's all right, Mrs. Smith. It's all right!" She said louder when Mrs. Smith's tears spilled onto her cheeks. She nodded and wiped her eyes, muttering something about brave souls. Farren ignored that and pulled out the jewelry box, placing it on the end table with the mirror. Then she pulled out her meager supply of clothes and, with Mrs. Smith's help, put them in the closet and dresser. Mrs. Smith nearly collapsed when she saw how little of the closet Farren's clothes took up. Farren laughed.   
  
"We'll have to get you more clothes, what you have just won't do!" She exclaimed, leaving Farren to hope she wasn't serious. "And new shoes!" She added excitably, and Farren knew that she fully intended to take her shopping. She reached into the trunk to pull out the next thing, which just happened to be her mother and father's senior pictures. Her face softened.  
  
"Oh, Farren." She said, looking at the picture gently, her eyes not misting with tears, but leaking with sadness all the same. "You mother was beautiful. And your father! He is very handsome. You know, I think they wanted to keep you. They just knew it wouldn't be best."   
  
"I know. They love me…they wanted what was best for me." Mrs. Smith gathered her in her arms again, but this time, Farren fell into them willingly. It was rough, she thought, to be suffering so young. But, she supposed, it could have been worse. She could have been dying on top of it all.   
  
Mrs. Smith pulled away and wiped her eyes, handing Farren the photograph, which she placed on the desk. She glanced into the trunk, seeing her C.D., the football helmet, and her books. Mrs. Smith was holding the wand box, looking tentative. Farren laughed.  
  
"It's not a real wand. I'm not a witch or something like that. I like fantasy books, and I especially like Harry Potter. I got it from the Internet. Anya and I-" She stopped, the Anya-sickness drowning her in its cold shivery grasp. "Anya and I play Harry Potter a lot. And I read her the books every day, after I read a passage from the bible and before we pray." Mrs. Smith nodded. Then she asked about Anya.   
  
Farren began to tell her all about Anya. First she explained the fire, and then she explained Anya's reaction to it. She traveled on with her story, telling her of how the two had become friends. She told her about their daily activities and how much fun they had together. And when she was done, the trunk was empty and the room held all her belongings.   
  
"So…Farren. Do you like those boys?" Mrs. Smith questioned slyly, sitting down on the bed while Farren gathered up her stuff for school the next day.   
  
"They are very good friends." She said stiffly. First Sirius, now Mrs. Smith!   
  
"I liked that Remus boy, he seemed to be quite the gentleman. Not that they all weren't, of course!" She added hastily. Farren rolled her eyes, but at the same time felt a twinge in her stomach.   
  
"Yes, Remus is very nice. I like him better than the others, I suppose." She said, oblivious to Mrs. Smith's delighted look.  
  
"They were talking about you in the car, Farren dear." Mrs. Smith said as Farren faced her and sat on the edge of the desk.   
  
"Mrs. Smith-" Farren started, but Mrs. Smith interrupted her.   
  
"Call me Martha, dear!"   
  
"Um, well, Mr- Martha, we are just friends. Perhaps they were talking about me because they'd just been with me?" She said, arranging it as a question so as to not to offend MARTHA.   
  
"Possibly, dear. Well, they seemed to be talking about you very pointedly to Remus specifically."  
  
"Really?" Farren asked, before realizing how she sounded and sighing greatly. Let Martha think what she wanted to think.   
  
"The oddest thing happened though. I was driving over to their house, its only five streets over in the mansions by the wood, you know, Woody Hollow? Anyway, just as I was driving down the driveway, the car stopped. They walked the rest of the way their selves, but it made me nervous, because their house was at the end of the road, was set behind a bunch of trees. Car just wouldn't go any further. Odd, huh? Oh well." Martha said happily. Then she said goodnight to Farren, hugging her lightly, and left closing the door and going to Spencer's room. Farren smiled and got ready for bed.   
  
Farren found it weird that the car wouldn't go any further and something told her that she should know the reason, but she couldn't quite clasp the idea. She changed into her pajamas, washed her face and brushed her teeth, and then grabbed her bible. After reading a few passages, she got down on her knees, thinking of Anya, and prayed.   
  
"Dear lord, guide me in this new place. Help Anya back at home, doing whatever she is, and help me to the right thing. Thank you for my new friends, they're what I've always wanted." She paused and remembered how she had wondered if God was testing the strength of her faith before she had come here. "I'm sorry that my faith wavered and that I started to not believe when my world came crashing in. Anya was right. I'm here to do something, perhaps to make friends, and she's there to trust you, even when I'm not around." She paused, wondering what else to say. Unbidden, a picture of Remus's face when she had been quoting the movie came into her mind. She sighed. She could lie to Mrs. Smith, and Sirius, and even herself, but she knew she could not lie to her God. "And if I am falling for Remus, let me go slowly. Let me be sensible, and know the difference between a crush and love. Guide me to help them in their problems, and guide me to love in friendship or not, because you know what is best. Bless them wherever they are. Amen." She then climbed into bed and fell asleep with her mother's CD still playing in the background.   
  
That night, Farren slept hard, but not dreamlessly. Though many of the dreams were harmless and happy, one stuck in her mind particularly the next morning, for she had it many times during the night, each time waking to dwell on the eyes…those eyes.   
  
In the dream, Farren was standing on a large square ledge that attached to nothing and instead simply floated in the air. Slightly below it, she could see another ledge and miles below that was the final ledge that had a pacing animal on it. She would turn from the edge she was surveying and see Spencer, who would advance on her, laughing shrilly, and she would stumble backwards. Each time, she would trip over the edge with a small shriek and fall into Randy L'Keith's waiting arms. But he would stare at her in disgust and ask, "He's your brother? And he still fancies you? Gross!" And she would protest that he was her adopted brother, but Randy wouldn't listen and he would force her from him, tipping her over the side of the ledge. The scream that followed was long and loud because of how far she fell, but she landed with a flump right in the lair of the animal she had seen from above. It was sleeping and she fell so that her head landed on its side and her body stretched out next to it. She would test her limbs, thank God that the animal wasn't eating her and then… the animal would awake.   
  
It would look up but not move. It's head would twist slowly around to see her and she would shout in terror because the wolf she was laying seemed to be no ordinary wolf, though she couldn't have told you why he was different. His snout was shorter than most and snarling, the tongue that rolled from the mouth was off color, his nose twitched, and his feet underneath her moved nastily. But his eyes were the most frightening of all because they looked human, deep blue and familiar, but the also looked like they didn't want to attack her but the wolf was anyway, and she would scream and scream at this thing that seemed to be attacking her unwillingly and she would stare in the eyes and scream louder. They seemed so familiar. And then the wolf would start to change. It would stop struggling and lie still panting, and the fur lessened and the body stretched and then she would turn to look and scream…but wake up before she could register what she was seeing.   
  
Many times this happened through the night and Farren was often sure she saw the eyes floating above her in the darkness. Once when it happened, she was hit with a sudden realization of… something, but it was gone before she could register it. By the time she fell all the way asleep, she slept through the reoccurring dream and didn't wake until morning.   
  
Farren woke up feeling drowsy, and so she didn't move for a while, focusing on the place where she was certain she had seen the eyes above her. The sunlight streamed through the luminescent window and sparkled on the contents of the room, but for the moment at least, the beauty was lost on Farren. She sat up slowly, savoring the quiet and unbroken sounds of morning, favoring the birds that sung in the tree outside her window. That was the thing she had liked the most about this room when she had arrived, because she could open her window and examine the tree that blocked most of her view and the plain that she could hardly see.   
  
She opened it now, looking at the bird nest that was just level with her. It was late November, and so no baby birds squawked, but it was unusually warm and the full sized robins sung their approval. She looked through the thick branches the best she could but couldn't see much, and so she instead surveyed the birds some more, laughing as they chased each other. Feeling much better from the sight, she opened the closet to look at her rather meager clothes supply.   
  
She picked out a pair of jeans and a simple dark blue shirt with snowflakes on it. At least she had something seasonal! Then she put them on, pulled her hair up into a rather messy bun, and, humming, walked downstairs. The Smith's were so formal that, even now in the twenty-first century, they had breakfast together. She sat down and buttered a biscuit, listening to the talk of jobs and homework assignments.   
  
Twenty-minutes later, Farren was sitting on the bus talking animatedly to Randy, trying to ignore the remembrance of the dream. The Marauders were not on, which she found strange if they really only live a few blocks over in 'Woody Hollow'. But they didn't get on and she found herself fully enjoying Randy's company, laughing with him about the teacher of American History. She was one of the older ones that stared at her oddly when she passed. Farren explained this look and Randy fell silent, looking thoughtful. That soon passed, however, as they pulled up to school and bid each other farewell.   
  
Farren glanced around, trying hard to spot her friends, to no avail. Finally, she noticed a messy black head that stuck out particularly and that was talking animatedly to someone. She worked her way over. Standing just behind them and being much shorter, she could listen to their conversation without interfering. Peter turned to her and smiled, and she smiled back feeling that he was sometimes overlooked because of his lesser looks, shorter body, and quieter demeanor. But since she too, was short and at the moment unnoticed, she decided not to feel too sorry for him or herself.   
  
She listened as James told the black-headed cheerleader a story that looked quite interesting, for she was practically drooling at him. (Authors note- I have nothing against cheerleaders, blondes, etc. This is just one of those stereotype cheerleaders.) Farren snorted and turned to Peter, mocking the girl. She tossed her pinned up hair, probably looking ridiculous, but not caring. She then stuck her hands out in front of her, pretending to file them while staring raptly at someone only she could see, adding a head toss and a flirty shift every once in a while. Peter sniggered and Farren had to work hard not to break down and laugh to. The cheerleader's laugh filled the air, high and giggly. Farren mocked her even doing sound effects. Peter's snigger turned into a full-fledged laugh and the other turned around as Farren tried, and failed, to keep a strait face.   
  
"Hey, Farren." Sirius said, smoothing his own hair and rolling his eyes in James's direction. She laughed harder, wondering if he had any idea how appropriate the eye roll had been. He stared at her, laughing at her prolonged giggles. James stared at her too, but he showed no amusement.  
  
"What are you laughing at?" He said sounding exasperated that he hadn't been let in on the joke. This made both her and Peter laugh harder. She fell sideways into Remus, who grabbed her arms to steady her, but didn't let go. Sirius snorted at this. Farren ignored it. The cheerleader got bored and walked away from the sniggering, laughing, giggling, and confused group. James finally started to laugh as well, probably seeing humor in the fact that he had no idea what was going on.  
  
Farren steadied herself, pulling gently from Remus's grasp and looking up at him, still giggling. She stopped with a gasp when she noticed his eyes. They matched the wolf's eyes from her dream. She remembered suddenly the horror she had felt as she fell and the fright that had clutched her when seeing the animal awake. She breathed deeply as the seen passed before her eyes.   
  
"What is it? What's wrong?" She heard Remus's hurt voice asking. She shook her head, sufficiently clearing away the scene and tried to explain.   
  
"Last night, I had this dream. And Spencer was there, and Randy, and this wolf, but it had…it had your eyes, that's all. I'm fine."  
  
"Well," James said quickly, "Remus is about as un-beastly as you can get." Farren nodded and smiled, shaking her head. She felt like she was being very stupid. The boys looked at each other and nodded.   
  
"Would you quit doing that?" Farren said harshly. They jerked to a stop. Sirius patted her on her shoulder.   
  
"Farren. It's all right. You're being irritable because you're nervous about that dream. Calm down!" He said harshly. She nodded, feeling like she'd just been plunged into ice cold water. "You know," Sirius, said slyly, his eyes glittering, "I hear they have name for your condition. Paranoia!" She hit him lightly upside the head and then led them inside avoiding Remus's eyes.   
  
They had a bit of trouble getting to the first class because of Sirius's insistence that it was the wrong one. "Sirius," Farren said slowly, "You have (a) days and you have (b) days, and you have Fridays. Monday and Wednesday you go to the classes we went to yesterday. Tuesdays and Thursdays we go to American history, Literature, Choir, and technology. On Fridays, we have a alternating days. Today is a B day. Just follow me!  
  
They walked to the classes that day, the boys meeting Mrs. Lays, who was the old American history teacher and who, unlike Ogden, seemed to have a special spot for Farren. The boys became popular in that class too, with both the girls and boys, charming them with their varied personalities and smooth styles. Farren had to laugh at Lays' reaction to the boys. Next class was a different story however, as the literature teacher was young, new, and lenient.   
  
Her name was Rebecca Rogers and she looked like a former yearbook, class president, and homecoming queen type person. Her hair was brown and always held up in a peppy ponytail and her eyes were blue-green hazel. She seemed charmed by the boys, laughed at their pranks and jokes, and basically let things get out of hand. Farren thought she might regret it later.   
  
Choir class was always fun, what with an inspired teacher who really wanted them to learn about and be excited by renascence music history and the song in Latin. She was an averaged height woman who had short, messy blonde hair, who was slightly overweight, and though she enjoyed the pranks and jokes, she saw fit to them only to happen when she wasn't teaching them something. James and Sirius were scolded often.   
  
But technology was the worst. The boys couldn't, for one second, even begin fathom how to assemble a wire and light bulb connection and Sirius was left with hair that rivaled James's and a nasty *shock*. The older male teacher gave him a detention while bellowing, "Didn't I tell you NOT to turn on the switch until after it was assembled? DIDN'T I?" Sirius was left to nurse singed hair, wounded pride, and a stinging body.   
  
When they left, Sirius was in a very bad mood. He slammed from the room, the door bolting back to the frame as if struck by lightning, with the technology teacher, Mr. Neik yelling behind him. James sent him a nasty look, and then switched his gaze to Sirius, who calmed down quite quickly (for Sirius, at least).   
  
"Um, Farren, let's go somewhere to talk," Sirius said, looking unusually serious. Farren stared at him, suspicion, confusion, and trust welling up in her so quickly it was almost overwhelming.   
  
He led the group to the neglected part of the building, peering in to vacant classrooms and looking for something, though what, Farren wasn't sure. He finally stopped in an art room covered in dust and led her in. The rest of the group followed.   
  
Sirius became very quiet and brooding, pacing the floor in quiet thoughts. Peter sat in a chair and pulled his knees up to his chest, averting their eyes and whimpering. James was standing in a corner, quiet and pale. Only Remus seemed willing to tell her what was going on. He was sitting forward on the chair next to her, pale and quiet, looking at her scrutinizing.   
  
"Denarro Abstrudo," he said slowly, deliberately, and quietly.   
  
With those two words, Farren's life changed forever. She suddenly realized everything that had happened in the last two days, she understood everything, and she realized, with conviction, that she did have a crush on Remus. But, at the time, it did not seem very important. Here, in front of her, were four books characters, two of which were dead, one that was a traitor, and one that was a werewolf. All four had traveled, not only from Europe to Colorado, but also in time. And she knew this! All of it!  
  
"Why are you here?" She asked in a hushed whisper. The ice broke and everyone started talking at once. She held up a hand to quiet the group.   
  
"One at a time!"   
  
"All right. So we're all sitting in Divination, which is a complete waste of time if you're not a seer. But we have this teacher, who's a great seer, named Cassandra Vablatasky. She even wrote our textbooks! So she's looking at my crystal ball and goes into this weird trance and drops to the floor. Her eyes roll back in her head, and she goes all still, and she looks like she's having a seizure. Luckily for us, we see this all the time and didn't panic." James paused and Sirius started up the story where he'd left off.   
  
"So she starts talking in this really frightening, even voice, like she's been given truth potion-you do know what truth potion is?" He interrupted himself. Farren nodded and he continued. "And so she starts to tell us this prediction, and I even memorized it, which I don't do often, so listen closely!" Farren nodded and he fell to the floor, rolled his eyes back and half closed them, raising his voice a tone or two, and began to speak in a slow, monotonous voice.   
  
"Your future is determined even now. The girl you will marry and the child you will have are subjected to pain. You and the girl shall die at the hands of a traitor. But, three and nine times years future at a rising country of democracy, in a town Collins called in a central snow state, a girl with lion mane red hair and exceptional knowledge can help you. She will help you…" And Sirius got up to enjoy the shocked look on Farren's face.   
  
"Me… I can help you?"   
  
"You," Remus said firmly. "As soon as she had said this she snapped out of her trance and couldn't remember what she'd said, but told us she had a feeling of 'unease' about us and that James should leave to consider her words. We went with him, of course, and wrote down what she'd said and decided to study it for a while. Well, 'three and nine times years future' would be twenty-seven years, and a rising country of democracy would be America. So then we had to find a book about America's states, and we came to know that Colorado was a snow state. Well, she'd told us about Collins, indirectly, and you, kind of. So then we went to muggle studies class, which, for reasons unknown, we decided to take, and when we were there, we convinced Dumbledore and Jenkins, he's the muggle studies professor, to let us go on a trip 'to muggle future'. Of course, Dumbledore was all for it, being Dumbledore, but Jenkins wasn't. Luckily, he couldn't do much."  
  
"So, we came here. We told Dumbledore we'd stay close to Scotland, and the United Kingdom, and such, but I think he knows we're here, taking care of Jamsie's future!" Sirius said joyfully. Farren giggled. "So," Sirius continued, "What do you know?"   
  
"Wait, how do you know I'm the one? Or if I am the one, what if other people know to?" Farren said skeptically, not wanting to tell them that millions of muggles had read the books and knew about the four boys.  
  
"You fit the description. And you've been breaking through the spell all week." Peter piped up.   
  
"Even if other people do know, somehow, you're different. We all can feel it." Remus said. Farren blushed. Sirius, James, and Peter nodded their agreement.  
  
Then Farren's eyes lit on James, dead for so long already, and Sirius, just having died; yet here they stood, in front of her! She turned away so as to not let them see her. Peter scuffled his feet nervously and Farren had the sudden thought that it would be better for everyone if he died then and there. Hate flared in her stomach nastily. Remus put his arm around her shoulder.   
  
"Whatever it is, you can tell us. Tell us what you know. You know something," Remus said gently.   
  
"I c-can't," Farren choked out, but didn't cry. It had been years since she'd cried. "It would change everything! It would kill more people than it would save. Harry, Voldemort, everything!"   
  
Remus tightened his arm around her. "Shhh, Farren, it's all right. Give us something; tell us something-" Farren shook her head drastically.   
  
"I can't. I know only of the future generation. I can't tell you. It might get millions, even trillions of people killed! I couldn't do that!" Remus pushed away from her.   
  
"You mean to say," Sirius said, his British accent brimming with unmistakable anger, "that you know how to stop James's death, and yet you won't? Because of millions of nameless and faceless people that you don't even know? You know James! You can save him! Will you sentence him, a friend, to death, to save people who you don't know, who could be your enemies?" Farren swallowed hard. Sirius was obviously furiously loyal. Even Remus was looking scandalized. Farren felt anger flare up in her immediately.  
  
"Would you kill millions to save one?" She demanded of him, her voice loud and powerful in the small classroom, and even she was frightened by the magnitude of it.   
  
"If it would save my friends, yes I would!"   
  
"And what if you are the traitor in question, Sirius Black? What then?" Sirius stopped dead, staring at her, anger causing him to grind his teeth loudly. In two steps, he was in front of her. Farren didn't even see him raise his hand, nor did she have time to react as the back of his palm swung forward across her face. His knuckles knocked into the bone next to her left eyes, and she reeled back sharply. Surely she would have bruises there later. The bone itself felt as if it were on fire.   
  
"Sirius!" Remus shouted, leaping forward and grabbing the arm he was once again raising. James, shouting illegibly, grabbed the other arm. Together, the two boys pulled him back towards the trembling Peter. Farren turned sharply on her heel, and strode to the doorway, not feeling the pain yet.   
  
Once there, she turned towards them, and spoke words that each would remember until they died.   
  
"It was merely a suggestion, Black. You are not the traitor, for you are too vain and loyal to become one. But when you are wasting away, realizing that you could have saved them, remember that I tried to tell you. Do not trust the rat." And with those words, she turned towards the door and walked out composedly, running only when out of their sights. She grabbed her bags and books in record time, and was down the stairs and to the door before she heard pounding feet behind her.   
  
She rushed past the throngs of kids waiting leave, and sped out the door before the bell had rung. She knew it was very likely that she would get in trouble for this and sure enough, when she passed Mr. Neik waiting for the waves of exiting students, he grabbed her arm growling, "Where do you think you are going?"   
  
"Please," She sobbed, turning her bruised face in his direction, "Please. I must get on the bus before-before…" She trailed off and the teacher, staring at the bruise that was already forming, gently let go and patted her on the back, sending her away. Minutes later, she could hear him shouting at what sounded like a group of very desperate boys. She could not even work up a smile at Sirius's whining.  
  
Tanya once again was sitting at the bus's front and did not fail to notice Farren's early arrival. She stared at her, gapping widely. Leaping up, she grabbed Farren's arm and pulled her down into the seat directly behind her, which was always empty.   
  
"I knew that claustrophobic story was strange. You're having boy troubles! I can tell by those bruises. I myself had an abusive boyfriend for a while. You just tell him off, girl, don't let him get to you! No wonder you moved…" She trailed off, glaring at the rest of the passengers who had just arrived. Remus opened his mouth to say something to Farren, but Tanya, her eyes on the four boys, wouldn't have that.   
  
"You four better just stay far away from her while you're on this bus! You hear me?" She hollered loudly. Remus looked quite shocked, but an odd stubborn expression lit his features and he sat down behind her, next to Peter, while James and Sirius took the seat across from her, Sirius closest. Farren scooted to the window, clenching her jaw stubbornly.   
  
"I told you-" Tanya started, but all of Farren's hopes were smashed as the bus ahead started moving, and Tanya, panicking, sat down quickly and lurched the bus forward. For a few moments she forgot to close the door.  
  
Farren physically shuddered as she gazed out at the gorgeous Friday afternoon. She could feel their presence like a physical force, and at the moment felt only resentment towards them, though later, she probably would miss their friendship, if you could call it that.   
  
"Farren," came Remus's voice in her ear. She scooted up towards the driver seat farther.   
  
"Farren, please, I didn't mean to, I just- Farren…" Sirius tried. Angrily Farren pressed her forehead to the window, at the same time curling her knees up under her.   
  
"Farren," Remus started again, "He said he was sorry…"  
  
"Give it up, Remus!" Farren said angrily. "He did not apologize, nor do I think his pride will ever allow him too!" She turned in her seat harshly to glare into his eyes.   
  
"He apologized more sincerely than he would under normal circumstances. He didn't mean too!"   
  
"Oh yes, it is so easy to slip ones hand across ones face hard enough that it bruises. I'm sure it was pure clumsiness!" She said sarcastically. Remus stared at her, the five silent enough that you could have heard a heart breaking. Farren heard it. She was just in confusion about rather it was her heart or Remus's.   
  
"He's trying to apologize and you won't give him a chance," Remus said finally, his eyes flashing angrily.   
  
"It sounds to me as if he's having you apologize for him!"  
  
"You won't listen to him!"  
  
"And what makes you think I will listen to you?"  
  
"Farren…"  
  
"What?" She snapped.  
  
"You really don't want to do this. You know this is a stupid fight-you know we should still be friends."  
  
"And you only want to be around me so I can tell you your futures! I can find people who really want to be my friends! I can go back to Texas with a simple phone call, you arrogant, conceited, prideful wizard! "   
  
Remus jerked back as if she had hit him. His eyes registered hurt that reflected on all three other pairs of eyes looking at her. She turned back around. Then she took out a book called *Both Sides of Time* and wondered if it was possible for it to be a more appropriate book. The main character, Anna Sophia, had fallen back in time and thinks she is in love, only to return to the present and find that on both sides of time had she disrupted normal activity and caused trouble. Farren sighed loudly and fished in her backpack for a book that didn't hit so close to home. She didn't find one.   
  
"Ugh," She murmured.  
  
"You don't honestly think that's the only reason we're you friends, do you Farren?" James's voice broke through her disgust.  
  
"Abusive ex-friends, and what else should I think?"  
  
"Farren, I'm really, really, really, really, really sorry, and I'll never do anything like that again. I just-didn't think, Farren. I'm stupid, okay? I let my anger get in the way of my common sense. James and Remus aren't even talking to me, so don't be mad at them, please, it was my fault, really." Sirius blurted out. They all stared at them.   
  
"I forgive you," Farren said abruptly.   
  
"Me?" Sirius asked doubtfully.  
  
"No, the ones who didn't do anything," Farren said nastily. Sirius's face fell and Farren suddenly felt like a jerk. She reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him into the seat with her. He didn't look at her, but she gave him a gigantic hug anyway, whispering loudly into his sweatshirt as she did.   
  
"Do anything like that again and I'll send you back to the Stone Age with no way to get back." He laughed and she heard the others chuckle as well.   
  
"Now, get back in you own seat, you great lump!" She said, pushing him back into his seat with James. She heard Remus sigh in relief behind her.  
  
"We're all f-forgiven, right?" Peter stuttered out.   
  
"Yep!" Farren replied. "Besides, you really didn't do much, Peter."  
  
"Hey!" James and Remus chorused together.   
  
"Okay, so James really didn't do much either."  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"You yelled at me!"  
  
"You were being insufferable!"  
  
"You were arguing with me!"  
  
"You weren't giving him a chance!"  
  
"You weren't giving me a chance!"  
  
"You said awful things!"   
  
"Only in response to your terrible logic!"  
  
"You said you could go back!"  
  
"I can, if I desire!"  
  
"You wouldn't give us a chance!"  
  
"He'd hit me!"  
"You ignored us and started reading that stupid book!"  
  
"It's not stupid!  
  
"And making little sighing noises!"  
  
"You didn't have to be so obsessed that you listened!"  
  
"I'm not obsessed!"  
  
"I know!"  
  
"Then why did you say-"?  
  
"Because of the look you get on you face when people say things like that!"  
  
"You do know that we're not really fighting?"  
  
"Of course not! We're having a friendly debate!"  
  
"Right! So why do you infuriate me so?"  
  
"Because you love me!"  
  
"I don't!"  
"I know, but that expression is sooooooo fun to see-"  
  
"You are so maddening!"  
  
"Well you are too."  
"Name one person who finds me maddening!"  
  
"Farren."  
  
"Besides you."  
  
"Wanderer, Brave soul."  
  
"I'm not going to fall for that. I looked up what your name means last night. "  
  
"Obsessed!"  
  
"I am not. I was simply curious."  
  
"It is so much fun to reduce nearly grown boys to three year old arguing status!"  
  
"Properly, that would be considered toddler stage."  
  
"And you know this because you're father to one?"  
  
"Of course not!"  
  
"Well, then how did you know?"  
  
"Common sense!"  
  
"U-huh."  
  
"Oh, I hate you."  
  
"Dislike with a passion would sound more correct."  
  
"I don't hate you, I was just mad."  
  
"Of course you don't! You dislike me with a passion!"  
  
"No, really, I don't!"  
  
"Yep!"  
  
"Because I'm not that mean."  
  
"Sure, and I'm Elizabeth II, bow to my presence!"  
  
"If it proves my niceness, gladly!"  
  
"Kiss my ring then, little servant. And when you are done, read me all the letters from my adoring public, and then get me my husband, so we can discuss this years wedding anniversary. After that, grab all three tons of my clothes, make-up, jewelry, and hair things, and bring them down here."   
  
"Sometimes-"  
  
"Sometimes-"  
  
"You are so-"  
  
"You are so-"  
  
"Quit mocking me!"  
  
"Qui-"   
  
"Stop!"  
  
"He loves you, Farren!" James broke in. Tanya, Sirius, James, Peter, and several homework doers laughed. Remus blushed. Farren hit Sirius, who in turn hit James, who in turn hit Sirius, who in turn lightly hit Farren. She laughed.   
  
"Young love is so fickle at times." Sirius said dreamily.   
  
"Oh, shut-up," Farren said. "Besides," her eyes lit up brightly, "what about James and Lily Evans. They aren't even friends and they fight! And, he's in love with her!"  
  
"How did you know about that? I don't love her!"  
  
"I can see all! And you do so!" Farren replied. "Oh, and James Jr. is a terrible name for a son. Go with something common, yet dignified."  
  
"It is not a terrible name!"  
  
"I'm not going into this with you."  
  
"Of course, you only do that with Remus."  
  
"Of course. His intelligence is the only one equal to the extremely high quality of mine."   
  
"Or, there could be other reasons, of a more personal value…" Sirius put in.   
  
"Of course there could be." Farren answered composedly.   
  
"Ooooo!" James and Sirius chorused.   
  
"Perhaps he's a better friend then you."  
  
"Ouch, Farren. Just…ouch." Sirius said. Farren laughed.   
  
"Um, isn't this your stop?" She asked, as the bus started to pull away.   
  
"Oh!" The boys leapt up shouting, tumbling out the door to stand on the sidewalk and wave at Farren. She waved back, smiling. What would she do without them? The bus pulled off and she sat back in her seat, her lips curling into a large smile that made her eyes light up and her cheeks flush, forgetting about the bruise next to her eye or about her homework, or Spencer, or anything. It was bliss.  
  
When she got off the bus and walked into the house, eagerly anticipating the weekend, she had all but forgotten about the bruise, or their brief fight. However, Martha was sitting as she always was at the desk, turned around to greet the kids and spotted Farren's contusion. Her gasp was enough to remind Farren. She stopped dead and wondered if she could escape. She decided she couldn't.  
  
"Farren- what happened?" She gasped out. Farren wasn't one to lie, but she wasn't sure what to say.   
  
"Well, I was exploring the old part of the school building, and, well, it's not the most safe part of the school and…" she trailed off, hoping Martha would think she had tripped. She did.   
  
"Oh, dear, what are we going to do?" Martha said, looking panicky and uncertain for a few moments. But then, her maternal instincts kicked in.   
  
"Spencer, I want you to go grab the ice pack from the upstairs hallway. Come back down here and fill it with ice and a bit of cold water. Grab a small towel why you're up there!" Then she approached Farren, soothingly pulling her into a chair and touching the bruise. She frowned, a small line appearing in between her two brows, and walked over to the medicine cabinet.   
  
"Tylenol," she murmured, holding the bottle up, "or should I go with Advil?" She selected the Tylenol and opened the cap. After she had pulled the two pills out and closed the lid, she opened the cabinet, all business, and pulled out a glass. She set it under their automatic water dispenser that was in the refrigerator door and when it was full, handed it and the pills to Farren. She swallowed them as Spencer came back with a peach towel and a light blue icepack. He filled it and thrust the two objects at her and left stomping.   
  
Martha gently placed the bag over her eye and sent her off to her room. Farren walked up the stairs slowly, balancing her book bag over her shoulders as she went. When she got to the room, she plugged in her laptop so it could charge and laid down on the bed, icepack over her eye and book in her hand. Twenty minutes later she had finished the book and was quite bored. She slowly closed both her eyes and relaxed into the bed, wondering if Martha had given her P.M. Tylenol.   
  
Two and a half hours later, Farren felt someone begin to shake her shoulders carefully. She opened her drowsy eyes and noticed that the ice pack had long since slid off her face. She peered through her sleepy lids to see who was shaking her and, once her eyes had adjusted to the light, recognized the man as Harold Smith.   
  
"Hello, Mr. Smith," She murmured sleepily.   
  
"Hello, Farren. Nice to see you awake and living!" He answered her happily. "Would you like to come down for dinner, or would you rather go back to sleep?"   
  
"I'll come down. I'm rather hungry, anyhow." He nodded at her and she sat up in the bad, wondering what they were having. She shook her head and stood up. For a few seconds, the room spun around her and she was disoriented, but soon it stopped and she quickly left and went down stairs. The Smith's were waiting for her.   
  
"Sorry to keep you waiting," she said quietly, sitting down and bowing her head as Mr. Smith said the prayer.   
  
Dinner that night was enjoyable. Farren's good mood had carried over after her nap, and she eagerly joined the conversation.   
  
"So, Farren. Tell us more about yourself. What do you like to do?" Mr. Smith asked her pleasantly.   
  
"Well," Farren said slowly, considering, "I like to write stories. And read. And ride horses. And I like to roller blade! And drive. I have my Texas license."  
  
"Really?" Martha asked, looking highly interested. "There's an excellent riding stable we could sign you up at. And a cute little bookstore."   
  
"And there's Spencer's truck if you'd like to drive it some time." Mr. Smith broke in. Farren nodded eagerly.   
  
"That all sounds wonderful!" She said excitedly. "I'd love to take some more riding lessons. I was in a horse show when I was at a home for four months. It was in Kentucky!"  
  
"Really?" Spencer said maliciously. "Why did they decide not to adopt you? Did you kill the horse?"   
  
"Spencer!" Martha said harshly. Farren stared at her plate and tried not to remember that day. Unfortunately, the memory flooded back anyway.   
  
Nearly a year ago, Farren had been sent to a wonderful farm in Kentucky to a couple that couldn't have children. They owned a racetrack and many wonderful horses that she loved to ride. They praised her riding often and even aloud her to go in a show on a horse that Farren had been helping to get back in shape after an accident. She had done wonderful at the show until she had gotten to the twelfth jump. It was a difficult one, three in a row with just enough room for a stride in between each jump. Farren hadn't been worried though, because she was particularly good at such jumps. However, she hadn't been counting on the cameraman.   
  
The huge gray gelding she was riding was named Manchester's Gray Man. Chester was a very famous horse in the hunter jumper world, and his accident had left many people hurting. Even Farren, who rarely managed to pick up a horse magazine with her pocket money, knew of his fame, and was pained by his accident. So, when she was asked to help get him in shape, she had been thrilled. Now, riding him in his first show since, many reporters wanted to catch an interview with the owners, rider, and a picture of the horse.   
  
The flashbulb had gone off just before the second jump. Chester had pulled up harshly; turning the best he could to avoid collision. This had sent him left side first into the jump, knocking him off and Farren had gone flying towards the ground. Chester had landed right on the jump and slid into the third, sufficiently breaking his cannon bone in one of his legs. The damage had been unfixable, and Chester had been put down. Farren could remember standing by his side, talking soothingly and stroking his head as he went. Not a week later, she was back in Texas. She herself had made the phone call. She could not stand staying there.   
  
Pushing her chair back harshly from the table, Farren stood up. The chair toppled behind her onto the immaculate floor, but she didn't stop to push it back up. She walked swiftly from the room, stopping at the door.   
  
"I'd like to take lessons," she said quickly. And then she ran up the stairs, falling into bed to sob into the pillow. She fell asleep quickly with tears stains streaking her cheeks. 


	5. Chapter 4 Happily Ever After

Chapter 4. Happily ever After  
  
All right, everyone! I have, made a very important decision and decided that I am going to stop this fan fiction. This will be the last chapter, sorry it so abrupt, but it will end sweet and nice. I do have a sequel in mind, which is the reason I'm in such a hurry to finish this one.   
  
To Le'A, who read the HP books, just so she could join a club. Thanks for reading, and being such a good friend. I'm glad you joined M.E.F.A.M.A.U.T. and enjoy the books jut as much as I do.   
  
Disclaimer- I am J.K. Rowling and you love me. I secretly write fan fictions under various pennames to see what people think of my ideas and you love me. Now, since I trust you with this secret, I must ask you to do something for me because you love me. Grab a dictionary; look up the word naïve and…LEARN FROM THIS BRUSH WITH REALITY!  
  
One last thing; A little quote from today's chapter to get you interested.  
  
"*Don't stick your tongue out unless you're going to use it, *" Farren murmured softly, fear erupting in her stomach, unexplainable fear.  
  
"Oh, don't worry…I will," he answered, and with frightening expertise and swiftness, he swooped in on her, one hand still on her arm, the other in her hair, and Farren, pinned against a wall and him, could not move.  
  
Farren woke at the impossible hour of seven thirty the next morning. The room was terribly cold, and she was very uncomfortable in her day clothes. She sat up in bed, stepping onto the cold impassive floor and adjusted her jeans and shirt. She realized that she had not even gotten under the covers the night before, and now she was paying for it terribly. She pulled a fleece blanket from the bed around her and padded softly out into the hall to check the thermostat. It read sixty-nine degrees, which seemed to Farren to be quite a normal reading, yet she was still shivering nastily. She frowned and went back into the room, peering out the window as she did.   
  
Farren stopped dead. In contrast to the lovely warm weather of yesterday, icicles hung from her window. The tree was practically wilting from the weight of the frozen water and beyond it, snowflakes swirled in big, heavy chunks, accumulating on the ground. She estimated there to be at least three inches all ready, and the snow showed no sign of stopping. Farren's eyes lit up against her pale face and she shrieked joyfully.  
  
"Snow! Snow! Snow!" She proclaimed loudly, waking up Spencer in the next room and alerting the older Smith's of her awake state. Downstairs, they smiled. Martha was sure she'd never heard a more joyful sound.   
  
Farren rushed to the radio and turned it on. A news forecaster was predicting at least a foot before nightfall and more snow throughout the night. She shrieked again, happily dancing to nothing, and began to fiddle with the switch. She soon found a holiday station which was proclaiming, "Oh, the weather outside is frightful-"  
  
"But the fire is so delightful, and since we've no place to go, let it snow, let it snow, let is snow!" Farren sung along. Grinning, she pulled open her closet and surveyed her winter clothes. She pulled out two loose pairs of jeans that would easily overlap each other, a long sleeved plain white shirt, a t-shirt to go over that, and a huge sweatshirt exclaiming, "I'm from Texas!" Grinning, she pulled one pair of pants and the white shirt. Then she brushed her hair quickly, pulling it into a low braid. Grabbing thick socks and her tennis shoes, she hastened to put them on. Finally, she grabbed her extra layers and went pounding down the stairs, singing as she did so.   
  
Once she made it downstairs, she slid into the kitchen, laughing and singing. Warm scented candles burned everywhere, and a fire had been lit in the hearth. Martha was putting up Christmas decorations in the huge clean house while Mr. Smith finished eating. He waved her in and gestured to the food, as his own mouth was full. She sat down with him, eagerly buttering a biscuit and spooning some bacon onto her plate.   
  
Once she had finished her speedy breakfast, Farren leapt up and began to sing along with the soft Christmas music playing from somewhere. She danced into the family room, where Martha was adjusting a strand of tinsel. She walked up to her happily.   
  
"I'm going to go play in the snow, okay?" She asked joyfully.   
  
"Certainly, dear," Martha answered without even looking at the dancing juvenile in front of her.   
  
"Can I borrow Spencer's truck?" the absurdness of this question made Martha stop staring at the slightly uneven tinsel and she turned to Farren, questioning her with her eyes.  
  
"There's a few people I have to pick up for a snow ball fight," Farren said shrugging. Martha's eyes sparkled as well and she gladly handed over the keys.   
  
"It's the green truck in the farthest corner of the garage," she informed Farren. Farren grinned, and ran back into the kitchen, pulling on her multiple layers as she did so. A coat and hat later, Farren, feeling as if she'd gained fifteen pounds, rushed into the garage.   
  
The Smith's had a four-car garage. Spencer's new green truck was at the very end, and Farren's eyes lit up happily. The truck was much better than Mrs. And Mr. Dugs car, which is what she normally drove, if it was available. She climbed into the truck, wrinkling her nose at the football sports bag that was sitting in the seat next to her. She pulled it out and placed it on the floor next to the truck. Then she pulled out.   
  
Nearly five minutes later, she, was driving down the road in Woody Hollow, her eyes straining down the road to the end, where it curved around in a circle. According to Martha's directions, the driveway surrounded by trees at the end of the cult-i-sac would be the boy's. She drove down it. About half way down, her truck stopped.   
  
Rolling her eyes, Farren thought vaguely that the boys probably had anti-muggle charms on the house. She climbed out and trudged through the snow towards the house. The house looked about average size and clean. Farren wondered if the boys were staying here alone if they hadn't really gotten adopted. She ran up the steps, sliding a bit, and knocked on the door.   
  
After five minutes of loud knocking, Farren got fed up. She reached for the knob and pushed the door open. It was typical that they wouldn't look it. The house inside wasn't very clean though it was not really dirty either. It was more…. Busy. Lots of clothes, books, food and plates spread about the living room. She laughed and sprinted upstairs.   
  
Farren began throwing open doors, closing ones that led to rooms she didn't need to be in. When all the bedroom doors were opened, she found a radio and quietly found a Christmas station. Second later, the radio was turned all the way up.   
  
"Deck the halls with boughs of Holly, Fa la la lala lala la la!" Farren sang at the top of her voice, still not being heard over the loud music. The boys didn't even stir. Rolling her eyes, she ran into the first bedroom, which happened to be Remus's and launched herself onto the bed. Laughing, she sat next to Remus as he covered his ears in his sleep.   
  
"Remus, Remus, get up it's snowing," Farren, said happily. Remus blinked blearily. That wasn't enough for Farren. "Remus, Remus, Remus, Remus, Remus!" She said, shaking his shoulders with each word.   
  
Remus blinked up at her, shock registering on his face. Knowing he was awake was enough for Farren. She leapt off the bed and pulled him with her. He stumbled out, his pajama bottoms twisted. She grabbed his arm and pulled him to the window happily, dancing in front of the window. He gazed outside.  
  
"It's just snow, Farren," he said sleepily.   
  
"I know! Isn't it wonderful?" She questioned happily. He shook his head in confusion. Laughing, Farren pulled him in a circle holding on to one of his arms and spinning. They spun and laughed, Farren thinking distantly that this was one of the funniest things she'd ever done.   
  
"Snow!" I joyful yelp that Farren recognized as Sirius came floating across the hall. "Snow, snow, snow, snow!" Farren laughed, loving that there was someone else with her childish love for frozen water. Farren let go of Remus's arm, sending them both crashing to the floor.   
  
"Change into something warm, Remus!" she said joyfully, picking herself up and rushing to the hall, closing the door behind her. In the hall, Sirius was doing some sort of snow dance. Farren laughed.  
  
Sirius jerked around to see her, and, picking her up, twirled around in the hallway with her in his arms. "I love snow," the two chorused together.  
  
Sirius put her down and very seriously looked her in the eye.   
  
"Farren," he said softly, "I really am sorry about, well…" He trailed off and gently reached a hand up to touch her bruise. Farren laughed and brushed his hand away.   
  
"It's okay! Nothing can be bad when there's snow!" She laughed.   
  
"Snow?" came James sleepy voice. "Snow!" he answered himself, and, judging by the pounding, scrambled out of bed and to the door. He closed it and began to dress. Farren noticed Sirius was already dressed in warm clothes. He tickled her, and despite all her layers, she felt it. Dropping into her arms, she laughed. She was extremely ticklish.   
  
"Help," she chocked out between laughs, "I'm being attacked by the tickle monster!" Remus rushed out from his room, fully dressed, and pulled her from Sirius's arms, all of them laughing. James came out and, with an evil glint in his eye, pulled Farren from Remus's arms and tickled her too. Sirius, of course, joined in. Farren laughed and trembled under their fingers.   
  
"Remus," she choked out, "help!" He laughed at her, but pulled her from their grip anyway. Peter wandered out into the hall, dressed warmly, and sniggering at the group. Farren ignored the traitorous little thing. Farren scrambled from Remus's grip and began to tromp down the stairs.   
  
"Farren," Remus said suddenly, "You can see the house!"  
  
"That is the most stupidly obvious thing I have ever had the misfortune of hearing," Farren said dryly, expecting the other's to back her up, but strangely, they too were giving her odd looks.  
  
"No, Remus is right. Muggles can't see our house," Sirius said, looking at Farren oddly. She grinned.   
  
"I'm not just any muggle," they continued to give her an odd look.   
  
"Come on!" She yelled suddenly, distracting them. "Snowball fight at the Smith's house!" Laughing, the five worked their way down the stairs, giggling. Farren slipped on the porch, and slid all the way down the icy and tilted driveway to the truck. Remus and James hauled her to her feet. Sirius exaggeratedly mocked her, sliding and shrieking loudly. Farren laughed, shaking her head, and climbed in.   
  
"Come on," she said loudly and started the truck back up, backing away from the house once they had all piled in. She drove carefully in the snow, which much infuriated Sirius, but she ignored him, singing loudly to the holiday tunes.   
  
As they pulled up at the house, Farren leapt out, leaving the truck in the driveway. She scrambled into the huge back yard, sprinting away from James, who was all ready throwing snowballs at her.   
  
"Wait," she cried out. "We need-to establish-teams!" She gasped out, ducking to avoid Sirius's handful of frozen water.   
  
Sirius grinned nastily, "Me and James and Peter, against the love birds!" He sang out. This statement was met by cries of protest, many snowballs, and giggles.   
  
The furious battle that ensued was wet and drippy. Jokingly enraged at Sirius's matchmaking, many snowballs 'mysteriously' found their way down the back of his coat. A giggle, screams, yells, and war calls (from Sirius) issued loudly across the no longer peaceful yard, and the snow continued to fall down in inch wide flakes. Farren soon found she couldn't see anyone except for Remus, who she was kneeling with, gathering a gigantic snowball.   
  
"Where'd they go?" She asked him, glancing around and seeing only white. Remus shook his head and snorted.   
  
"They probably left us for the warm inside. Peter would be hungry by now." Farren laughed and fell back into the snow, beginning to make a snow angel.   
  
"Come on, Remus," she said, catching his gloved hand and pulling him down next to her. "Make an angel." He dispiritedly made one.   
  
"Close as I'll ever get to heavenly status," he murmured sadly. Farren reached out to grip his hand again, preventing him from sitting up.   
  
"Remus," she began softly, turning in her angel imprint to survey him. "Don't talk that way." He looked away. "Remus," she said gravely, "I'm being truthful. It's not your fault you were bitten, and you most certainly shouldn't feel bad about it. We all have cobwebs in our past. Yours, unfortunately, continue to affect you now. But, it's not your fault. You are a wonderful person, Remus. Don't ever let anyone tell you different. Don't even let the little voice in your mind tell you. Let me tell you, Remus. You're perfect."  
  
He stared at her, his face shocked and pale.   
  
"You know?" he finally said. "That I'm a- a werewolf?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"And you d- don't care?"  
No! Do Sirius, James, or Peter care? No! So why should I?"  
  
"You're different."  
  
"Because I'm a girl, or because you haven't known me as long?"  
  
"Both," he said softly.   
  
"I'm still you're friend."  
  
"Yes…" he said softly, trailing off.   
  
"Farren," he said softly, taking a deep breath and trying to regain color to his face, "Would you like to-er-be, you know, more…" He let the sentence trail off, looking as though even he hadn't been expecting to say that. Farren got the feeling that he had never met a girl who knew about his lycanthrope prior to dating him. She felt strangely ecstatic inside.   
  
"Do you even like me?" She asked softly.  
  
"Any person who doesn't care and who already knows is worth it," he said, and Farren nodded. They had not known each other long. They were not in love. They were just friends. But they would try this, because it seemed right. Because it seemed good. Because, as soon as it was spoken aloud, they both knew they wanted it.  
  
"I'd like that," she said softly. He grinned and gently turned over.   
  
"How about we go to one of those muggle picture things Sunday? Around four?"   
  
"I'd like that too," she said shyly.   
  
"We'll conjure up a truck and I'll come pick you up, k?" He said, and Farren nodded.  
  
She dropped back into her angel print and looked the other way, trying not to blush too hard. He grabbed her hand, and together they made another set of angels, only this time, their wings ended at the edge of the other's.   
  
  
  
~…~…~…~…~…~…~...~...~...~...~...~...~...~...~...~...~...~...~...~...~...~....~...~...~...~...  
  
"I knew it!"   
  
Farren laughed at Sirius's excitement. The five were sitting in her room, soaked and dripping, and Sirius had managed to catch Remus reaching for Farren's hand inconspicuously while they sat next to each other on the bed. Sirius's eyes were glowing happily, almost as much as both Remus and Farren's cheeks.   
  
"I knew that it didn't take fifteen minutes to realized we had gone inside. I knew there was something else…." Sirius trailed off happily. Farren threw a pillow at him and he stuck his tongue out at her. Remus happily gripped her hand.   
  
"So…. Where are you guys going tomorrow? The picture thing…perhaps… around four, maybe?" Sirius said slyly.   
  
"You guys were listening?" Farren asked incredulously. Shaking her head and laughing, she launched herself at Sirius, forcefully attacking him and tickling his stomach.   
  
"It was James's idea!" Sirius choked out. Farren heard a noise that sounded an awful lot like Remus dog fighting James behind her. Shouts of laughter and Sirius's prolonged yelping filled the room. Farren suddenly let go of him, allowing him to sit up.   
  
"Show me your animagus forms," she said to the room, turning her eyes onto the three boys. They looked surprised, but then Sirius happily nodded.   
  
"It's so much more fun to be a dog anyway," he said happily, and suddenly he and the others transformed. Farren slid over next to Remus and gripped his hand gently, surveying the animals in front of her.   
  
A magnificent stag, with antlers that rose into the air, stood before her, it's tawny coat glistening and it's calm hazel eyes sparkling mischievously. A black mutt, who was so huge that it's head, could reach the stag's back stood before her, wagging its tail and looking playfully at Remus, slobbering on him. The rat was nowhere in sight. Farren pretended to have forgot about Peter.  
  
'He's a traitor, anyway,' she thought meanly, 'and no one needs a traitor around them.'  
  
~…~…~…~…~…~…~...~...~....~...~...~...~...~...~...~...~...~...~...~...~...~...~...~...~...~...  
  
That night, Farren went to sleep still remembering the way her hand had felt in Remus's. She smiled softly, snuggling beneath her covers, enjoying the warmth that radiated from them. A heater was sitting beside her bed, and the room had been cleaned after the five had dripped snow all over it. The rest of the day had been spent watching an old musical called Oklahoma. Sirius had found it very amusing to make fun of it profusely. Farren giggled remembering the way the boys had reacted to the rather sappy old-fashioned film and fell asleep with a smiled on her face.   
  
The next morning, Farren woke up slowly. She glanced at the clock, which revealed to her that it was hardly six, but she climbed slowly out of bed anyway and stretched. The room was sweltering and she quickly switched off the heater and tried to ignore the fact that her room felt like a sauna. She grabbed some warm clothes and headed for the bathroom, being careful to make sure that the door that connected it and Spencer's room was locked. She then climbed into the shower and let her hot body cool under semi-cold water. After shampooing and conditioning her long mane, she stepped out and dressed, pulling her hair back into a simple ponytail as she went. Soon, she was downstairs. She was rather surprised to see that everyone else was awake as well.   
  
"Hello, Farren. I was just about to come wake you. Change into something more dressy, church starts in thirty minutes," Martha told her. Farren nodded and, grabbing a biscuit, ran back up the stairs. She pulled a blouse out of her closet and a black skirt and quickly changed into them. Then she pulled her hair up into a higher ponytail, smoothing out her part and ran back down the stairs.   
  
"We'll be back before four, won't we?" She asked the family as they climbed into the car.   
  
"Of course, dear. Are you meeting your friends?" Martha asked her.   
  
"Kinda…" Farren mumbled, wondering how the family would react to the fact that she was going on a date.   
  
"Oh…." Martha said slyly, and Farren knew that she knew, "going on a date, are we?"   
  
"Kinda…" Farren said again.   
  
"With who?" Spencer's voice broke through forcefully. His face was screwed up angrily and his eyebrows had contracted together. He no longer looked handsome. He instead looked like some kind of bird of prey.   
  
"Remus…" She said softly. Spencer actually screeched beside her and she bit her lip and scooted farther from him. He shot her a nasty glance, seeming to enjoy the trembling response he got from her. Farren clenched her jaw; she would not allow him to scare her.   
  
"We're going to the movies around four. He's picking me up," she said, knowing as she did that she was practically giving Spencer a signed invitation into the conversation, but not caring. Spencer made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. Farren shot him a smug glance, as if to say 'you see…I can do better than you!'  
  
"And what sissy movie are you to going to see? Kindergarten Children, part three?"   
  
"Actually, I don't know what we're seeing. The fact that you know that there's three parts is vaguely amusing though."  
  
Spencer shot her a glance that would have melted a fool. Luckily, Farren was not one. She stared him in the eyes, raised her eyebrows, and made a little 'humph' noise in the back of her throat. He ignored her the rest of the ride. She was glad.   
  
When they arrived at the church, Farren had to catch her breath. Her eyes feasted upon the site in front of her, and it was obvious she had never been to such a large church. The building was huge and had many high stain glass windows. The parking lot was enormous and wrapped around the building while fancy cars of all different colours drove slowly and respectfully around. The doors were huge and wooden, and Farren could see where a small older church had been expanded. A bell tower, complete with a huge old bell, still rested high above most of the church.   
  
Spencer gave her a nasty look and snapped, "What, never seen a church before?" Farren sent him her 'McGonagall' look and he backed off, sulking as he did so. Farren climbed from the car carefully, looking around in mild amazement. The family walked forward, beckoning Farren with them, and she walked through the snowy parking lot. Snowflakes were still falling, but no one seemed to notice them as much as the ever-excitable Farren. She grinned and wondered if the Smith's would become angry with her if she didn't avoid the snowdrifts. She decided they would.   
  
The inside of the church was even more magnificent than the majestic outward appearance. Farren could tell they were in the older part, as the floor was a deep and ancient wood and the walls were constructed of a similar deep wood panelling. The stained glass windows rose high above the floor and showed scenes of Jesus' life. Farren peered inside the congregation area, and smiled in pleasure. A window, taller and grander than the rest, headed off the front of the room, stationed so that it was behind the preacher. The window showed a beautiful woman whose hair was long and light brown, whose eyes were a French blue that reminded Farren of Remus, and whose arms were clutched around the most holy and realistic baby Jesus Farren had ever laid eyes on. She smiled wider, wondering whom the artist was who had created such a thing. It was brilliant.  
  
Farren glanced around, looking for the Smith's and finally spotted them among the throngs of people talking to a man and woman, both rather old, and smiling brightly. Farren walked over.   
  
"Aw, yes, here she is. This, Pastor Prestano, is Farren Alma, the foster child we're hosting. Farren this is pastor Dave Prestano and his wife, Marilynn." Mr. Smith said, smiling over brightly at the wizened couple.   
  
"It's very nice to meet you, pastor, Mrs. Prestano," Farren said sweetly, shaking each of their hands and breathing in the gentle perfumed smell that seemed to continually linger around older generations, just whispering of their past and heritage, just hinting at their knowledge and reference. Farren breathed in deeply, albeit quietly, and smiled at the pair.   
  
"Call me Mrs. P, dear, it will be so much more convenient. And how wonderful, Mr. Smith, that you've found such a polite dear to host. Children these days have no regard for anyone beside themselves. And teenagers! Well, don't even get me started on teenagers. Why just the other day, Billy Ingrid comes riding his motorbike across my lawn, after I'd spent all day-" Farren tuned out the woman, wondering how the elder Smith's tolerated her.   
  
"Farren, dear, follow Spencer, you two will be late," Martha broke through Mrs. P's tirade against Billy Ingrid and Farren smiled gratefully, turning to follow Spencer into the newer part of the building.  
  
Spencer gave her a glowering look and Farren, resigned to the fact that being spiteful would only lead to worse things, attempted a brave smile. Spencer looked surprised; after a few seconds he too smiled and, grabbing her hand, pulled her down a hallway. The newer part of the building was fashioned to look old and antique, but its unnatural cleanness gave away the build-on that the old church had experienced.  
  
"It's just down this way," He explained, pulling her along. She gently but firmly pulled back, giving him a subtle reminder that she could walk on her own. He gave her a sheepish grin.   
  
"See, we have a local band who play first, and a food table, and then we split into little study groups. Then we all go to Sunday school to listen to the choir and preacher and stuff," Spencer explained to her, leading her end to a shadowed room with burgundy walls and beige carpet. A band was tuning their instruments inside a roped-off area that served as their stage, and teenagers flocked the area, as well as one off to the right that hosted two tables filled with punch, cookies, and donuts. Farren looked shyly around. Spencer gestured to her and she followed him over to the stage.   
  
"Hey, Godhawks!" He greeted the band, which comprised of one base guitar player, a drum-set, one obviously second-hand electric guitar, and a lead singer. "This is Farren, you know, the foster kid I told you we would be sponsoring." The boys of the group nodded to her and she smiled politely, albeit disinterestedly.   
  
The boy holding the rugged looking electric guitar stepped forward, the strap of his instrument strung casually across his shoulder. It was then that Farren realized who he was.   
  
"Randy! I didn't know you went to church here," Farren said happily, her spirits raising somewhat. Randy grinned and looked partially amused.   
  
"Everyone in Collins either goes here or to Collins Town Catholic Academy. Everyone at our school comes here, everyone and their families that attend that private place go there." She nodded slightly, looking at his guitar with slight amusement.   
  
"Oh, I wouldn't look at it that way, if I were you," A voice said lightly, and Farren looked up into the eyes of another boy she vaguely recognized from her few days at school. He had dirty-blonde hair and equally speckled gray eyes. He grinned and snapped his two drumsticks together, looking at the guitar with relish.   
  
"Yes, when he brought that here, all proud that he bought it with his own money, well…I still have the scars from what he did when I-er told him my opinion on it. I'm Chris Beck, by the way," he held out a drumstick-less hand and she shook it. She glanced around at the others. The boy tuning the bass looked up briefly, his black hair falling unkempt into his gray eyes. He held her eyes for a moment, staring into her soul, and then turned back to his work.   
  
"Gabe Hortess," the boy offered simply and then went back to tuning with all his soul. Farren watched him for a second, admiring his strong profile and grip with the music.  
  
"Don't mind Note over there, he's too into his music to acknowledge the human existence," Chris said lightly.   
  
"Which is a nice way of saying that Gabe, or Note, as we call him, is a music addict. He is thinks more deeply and philosophically than anyone I know, but he barely speaks," another boy, this one with black curly hair, dark eyes, and copper skin.   
  
Gabe just shrugged, but Farren thought she saw in his eyes a slight glimmer of sadness, perhaps at the fact that his deep and silent nature could not go unmentioned. She smiled at him knowingly. Somehow, she understood what he felt like.   
  
"I'm Juan Gurei," Said the copper skinned boy. He was tall, lean, and muscular. Farren glanced at him, wondering…  
  
"He's native American, Cherokee." Randy explained to Farren, who nodded. She scrutinized the boy with her eyes he looked so familiar…  
  
"Hey! Are you the number 27 football player?" She blurted out suddenly, remembering how he had been reminding her of someone all week. Juan stared at her, his eyebrows raised slightly.  
  
"Yes?" He answered questionably. And then Farren realized…  
  
"My dad was number 27...in the picture…and he wore Collins colors…and the older teachers…the watch me…because they knew my parents," Farren said wonderingly. The other's looked at her with varying expressions.   
  
"Hey, Farren, we ought to go now, they'll be starting soon," Spencer said, breaking the awkward silence, and Farren nodded, backing up as a tall balding man stepped over the rope and grabbed the microphone.   
  
The two hours couldn't have gone fast enough for Farren. Though the band was excellent, and the study group interesting, and even though they all trooped back into the main part of church for Sunday school, Farren was preoccupied. Her date with Remus loomed ahead, uncertain, exciting. She felt that drive home took three times as long as the drive there, and that Sunday brunch was a continual bore. Finally, Finally, it was three o'clock and she had an excuse to leave the table and sports talk and go get ready.  
  
She climbed into the shower excitedly, jumping slightly as the water hit her. Her favorite bath gel (spring rain) was almost gone by the time she was done and her hair glimmered from excessive shampoo and conditioner. She climbed out and toweled her hair so it wasn't so damp. She then ran her hair dryer through her long locks, each auburn strand become strait and gleaming in the light. She pulled the sides of her hair up, but let pieces fall from the neat hairdo so that it looked more natural. Each fallen piece framed her face, and she allowed these to curl like corkscrews around her delicate face, giving her an almost Victorian look.   
  
Her outfit consisted mainly of blues. She decided on deep blue jeans, which would make the shirt look less fancy. A French blue belt hung on her waist, and her eyes glittered with big blue specks in their hazel depths. She wore a French blue camisole under a navy, French, and sky blue slightly see through blouse. Each of the colors blended perfectly with one another and Farren looked nervously in the mirror at herself. She applied, with a shaky hand; light blue eye shadow that she had never before worn and dusty pink blush over her smooth pale complexion. Her lips were adorned in gentle pink; nothing too frosty or fake and she put the teeniest bit of foundation over her still yellow bruise. She then put on a gold-chained necklace with alternating pearls and pearl earrings. Glancing one last time at her reflection, she hesitantly crept downstairs.   
  
Spencer stood at the bottom of the steps. She looked at him, cocking her head, not liking the way his eyes traveled over her. She squirmed beneath his gaze. He looked at her, delight in his eyes, and she blushed slightly, muttering,  
  
"Hey Spencer." He continued to look at her in a similar way, but she ignored it, seating herself on the edge of a chair in the entranceway, waiting for the doorbell to ring.  
  
"Farren," Spencer said suddenly. She looked up at him, and he fastened one strong fist around her lower arm, pulling her up.  
  
"We had fun today, didn't we?" He asked, fire in his eyes. Farren nodded and tried to pull back from his death grip. He held on harder.  
  
"Why are you going with that…that…inbred?" He burst out angrily, his fist clenching on her.  
  
"We had fun today. You should like me! Me! I thought you'd realize-"  
  
"You thought wrong!" Farren burst out. "Let me go!"  
  
"You look really good, Farren," Spencer said, his fist still hard on her arm. "Too good for a guy like that…" His tongue poked out from his mouth slightly, wetting his lips, in what he must have thought was a tempting way…  
  
"Don't stick your tongue out unless you're going to use it," Farren murmured softly, fear erupting in her stomach, unexplainable fear.  
  
"Oh, don't worry…I will," he answered, and with frightening expertise and swiftness, he swooped in on her, one hand still on her arm, the other in her hair, and Farren, pinned against a wall and him, could not move.   
  
She forced her head as far back as possible and squirmed beneath him, fear, terrible fear, eating at her, driving knives at her. He growled, holding tightly, trying to force her to be intimae with him and Farren prayed for anyone…anyone…to help her.  
  
The doorbell rang. That one little noise of answered prayers filled her with hope and strength, and, with renewed vigor, she pushed him from her, his tongue leaving a trail of salvia on her cheek and stumbled backwards. Her had reached the doorknob and, turning it, she fell backwards, one foot connecting solidly with the door, slamming it in Spencer's shocked face. But, still, Farren was f  
  
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Falling, and then…  
  
Strong arms encircled her waist. (A/N yes, a know, little dramatic there, but…I couldn't help myself!) Breathing deeply, she met the eyes of Remus, her chest heaving with fear and rage, her body shaking in desperation. Remus offered no words, no consolations, at least not then. He led her to a green car, not a particularly fancy model, nor an outstandingly old one. She slid inside, breathing deeply, calming herself. Every molecule in her body was on high alert, her ears picked up the tiniest sounds, and her eyes seemed to take in a narrower, more detailed perception. Her breath seemed loud and unnatural; even in her own ears. Finally, emotions controlled, she looked into her rescuer's (so to speak) eyes and saw the unease in his glowing orbs.   
  
His right hand reached forward and, cupped in a loose fist, wiped the saliva trail from her cheek. He was close; so close, and Farren realized, no matter that they had been just a friend moments before, she did like him, even if it she had just then realized it. He held one of her hands gently, asking with his eyes more than his mouth about what had happened.   
  
"Did he hurt you?" Remus asked, emotion concealed in a huskier than normal voice. Farren wondered, had he asked her out simply because she already knew and accepted his secret, or had he, like her, deep down known he liked her and was only just then letting his feelings surface. She realized he had asked a question; she had yet to answer.   
  
"Not physically…as of yet," she answered, and it took Remus, lost in her eyes, to realize that she was answering his question.   
  
"I suppose it was more of an emotional and psychologically pain?" Remus questioned, too coolly; he was afraid he would betray himself and his building feelings if he were too friendly. Farren nodded in response to his question and, eyes unfocused, snuggled against him, needing his embrace. He gave her a gentle hug, yearning for more; not knowing the same stirring was inside her also.   
  
"Shall we go?" Farren said, sounding more normal as she did so. Remus nodded.  
  
"What movie would you like to go see?" He asked his head cocked at her, his grin trying to lighter her mood. She shrugged and her normal grin returned as she reached down and flipped on the radio, searching for a station. She finally found something of satisfaction and Remus shook his head, laughing.   
  
"You and your country," he said, grinning as she snuggled as close to him as the seatbelt would allow, humming along with the country music.   
  
"Yes, I'm very patriotic!" Farren joked and Remus grinned, driving carefully down the wet and busy streets, watching as a bit more snow came down. He was unexpectedly tense; he had very little driving skills and was relying on an easing charm and his minimal experience to get him through the bad roads. Farren smiled at him, laughing slightly, and he nudged her with an exaggerated huff.   
  
"I don't see you attempting to drive in such weather!" He joked and Farren grinned.   
  
"What are we going to see?" She asked as they arrived at the theater, which was relatively empty on such a day.  
  
"Didn't I ask you that earlier?" Remus countered. "I don't know what's playing anyway…do you?" Farren shook her head and climbed out of the car. Remus grabbed her hand before she slipped in the ice. Smiling, she jokingly gushed, "My hero!" He laughed, and together they walked towards the box office to chose what movie they would see.   
  
Interlude One; Remus Lupin  
  
Years later, I can still remember everything about that afternoon. The sun was shining bleakly as we walked up the slush-filled walk, stopping to browse at the movie posters. Farren's eyes were brighter than ever that day, and sometimes, right before I transform back into a human, I will see those eyes flash above me. They were so beautiful, so very Farren.   
  
The movie we choose was one that we both agreed on; though it was not our first choose. Though I cannot remember the title; I remember the story. *A boy, on his way to visit his divorced father in a private plane, watches as his pilot has a heart attack and dies in front of him. In desperation, he tries to find a place to land the plane, which is running low on fuel, and manages to land in a lake. Unfortunately, the lake was deeper than he thought, and the entire plane sinks to the bottom before he can grab a radio to call for help, and so, he is stuck in the woods and must learn to survive until someone finds him. *   
  
The movie was captured both of us, not least because it was my first time seeing such a muggle thing. When it was over, we went to a café and sat, much to my amusement, outside in coats, ordering hot coffee to keep us warm. I would have preferred to sit inside, but I soon learned that Farren enjoys all things and takes advantage of them when they are there. I soon learned that I should have cherished the little things that are so Farren more then I did. Now, I see only a fuzzy picture of the woman I once thought I knew.   
  
End of Interlude One  
  
"Favorite food?" Farren sprouted at him.  
  
"Mmmm, turkey and stuffing! Same question," Remus answered, keeping up their game of getting-to-know-each-other.   
  
"Hmm, spaghetti, I think. What about…you favorite colour? And your least favorite colour?"  
  
"Umm, I don't really have…"   
  
"I like…French blue and hat red. What about…your favorite time in history?"  
  
"Classical, I'd say. You?"  
  
"Renaissance, definitely!" Farren laughed and their game continued for a while, each enjoying the others company as they got to know each other more fully. Then, Remus asked the question.   
  
"Well, you know my biggest secret…care to tell yours?" He was shocked as he watched her turn away sadly. "You don't have to, of course!" He said hastily, but she was opening her mouth to speak.   
  
Interlude Two; Farren  
  
How could I tell Remus- wonderful, caring Remus- about my secret? It was not much of a secret, I suppose, because if you knew me long enough you would be able to look back and see that I had never…will never…cry. That I was an emotionless person who had not enough tears to spare for the sick and needing. That I was a monster inside; that I could not feel.   
  
Later, when I did tell him, he told me that I was the most wonderful person he knew and that my feelings showed in my eyes, if not in my actions. I smiled then; I did feel better. But sometimes, I look back, and wonder if I was smiling simply because I was not as I had always feared... a feelingless, beast. Even today, if ever I indulge in such thoughts, I remember his words to me, and I feel better, not just because of his words, but because when I remember him, I feel an ache in my heart so hard that I know I can feel.   
  
End of Interlude Two  
  
"It's just… long ago, I was sent back from yet another home, and I began to cry silently in my room, like always. But I began to feel anger; why should I be cast off like an old lamp…and why should I allow it to upset me? And so I promised myself something. I told myself, 'I shall not cry'. And I haven't…not since then. I am unemotional. It didn't bother me at first, but then I began to notice that I felt nothing when I did not cry... not joy, or helplessness, or sadness. I… I cannot feel." Farren lowered her head; she did not want Remus to see her shame.   
  
"Farren…you feel more than anyone I know! You find joy in the littlest things, you find peace in the harshest conditions." Remus had jumped to his feet and he gently caught Farren's hand and pulled her up as well. "You feel sadness when you see bad things, I know you do, because I've seen it in your eyes. Tears mean nothing, Farren. You mean something…you are wonderful. You are the best." Farren looked at him, hope shining from her orbs, and Remus, caught in the moment, pulled her into a sweet kiss.   
  
It was the first kiss of many to come. The two forgot about life; they were caught in time. They forgot about the fact that they lived in different worlds. They forgot about time difference and traitors; they forgot about dying and spies. They remembered only each other, and it was because of that, that their love extended through time when they could not.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Give credit where credit is due  
  
*Don't stick your tongue out unless you're going to use it- a quote told to me by Le'A from her cousin; meant to be funny, but it fits well with the excitement of that part of the story.  
  
**A boy, on his way to visit his divorced father in a private plane, watches as his pilot has a heart attack and dies in front of him. In desperation, he tries to find a place to land the plane, which is running low on fuel, and manages to land in a lake. Unfortunately, the lake was deeper than he thought, and the entire plane sinks to the bottom before he can grab a radio to call for help, and so, he is stuck in the woods and must learn to survive until someone finds him.** The basic plot line of Hatchet, by Gary Paulson. The book, as far as I know, is not actually a movie. 


End file.

Harry Potter, Romance