AN: An update!!! (Yeah, I'm just as surprised as you are) I'm sorry it took so long! I know I haven't updated in ***checks stats and winces*** over two months but I was so busy! College only let out a month ago and although a month seems too long not to update, believe me, I couldn't update sooner. Firstly because I sing everyday in a choir since two weeks before and until X-mas night and, well, this chapter was just so difficult… and long (it's 10 pages long, a task I'd never accomplished before); it also required a lot of research as, even though I'm latin and a native Spanish speaker I've never been to Mexico-oops! ***grins*** well, read ahead, I'm quite proud of this chapter, although it turned out a little different than I meant it to, but I still like it, so I hope you guys like it too…
Nine Months
Month 4-June
Harry woke to his wife's insistent shaking and, trying unsuccessfully to blink the sleep out of his droopy eyes, turned to look up at the blurry figure that was her. "Hermione?"
"Oh, Harry, wake up!" she cried, her voice filled with anguish, which instantly woke him up.
Sitting up, he quickly grabbed his glasses from the bed side table and put them on; she was looking at him, twin orbs of chocolate that had the power to turn his legs into jelly glazing over with tears as she held her hands clasped together at her chest.
"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" he asked, placing his hands on her shoulders and looking down at her with concern-filled eyes, but when she wouldn't answer he began to panic. "Is it the baby?! What's wrong, do you want me to take you to the hospital?!"
Hermione sniffed up at him and shook her head bashfully.
"No, but I have this sudden urge for cheese nachos that you wouldn't believe…"
Harry blinked.
And blinked again.
And then blinked some more.
Finally, groaning, he let his head slump back on the pillow, taking off his glasses and rubbing tiredly at his temple. "Merlin, 'Mione, did you wake me up just for that?" Hermione's bottom lip began to quiver but Harry, who was rapidly falling back into Dreamland, didn't notice, "I promise I'll get you some tomorrow, but right now I just wanna…" the sleepy mumbling was finished with a snore as he promptly fell asleep.
A few seconds passed, after which the silence was disrupted by Hermione breaking down into loud, messy sobs.
Harry jumped up, startled, and blinked myopically at her. "Huh? Ho-what?"
"I should have known you wouldn't want to get me food if I asked you, you must think I'm fat enough without me getting these stupid cravings to add to it and I was so stupid to think you'd love me anyway!!!"
She was half-kneeling on the mattress, her softly rounded belly protruding from the bottom of her night-shirt, closed fists pressed tightly to her leaking eyelids.
For a second Harry thought she was trying to trick him with her tears-she'd certainly done so before-but then sighed, flooded with guilt; he'd learned to distinguish when she was truly upset from when she was only jesting the hard way-two nights before he'd had to sleep on the couch for not taking her seriously when she'd complained about her favorite pants not fitting anymore.
"Oi, sweetheart," he said, taking her hand and squeezing it softly. "I don't think you're fat, I think you look beautiful, and about the cheese nachos-well, I would gladly get you some, but it's midnight and you know curfew starts after nine… I won't find one open shop tonight, no matter how hard I look…"
She glared bloody murder at him, and Harry was again amazed at how fast she would go from a weeping mess to looking as menacing as an angry veela.
"Curfew has never stopped Ron and you from finding a bar to celebrate whenever he wins a Quidditch match." she snapped, making him flinch.
Now that he thought about it, he didn't recall veelas ever looking as angry as Hermione did right then.
"But, darling," he tried to reason with her. "Ron and I usually Apparate abroad to f-" he broke off when he noticed her meaningful look. "Are you implying that I should-no way, 'Mione!!! It's one in the morning and I have a meeting early tomorrow!"
But Hermione's eyes were already brimming with tears, and Harry couldn't bring himself to say no; looking at her, he reminded himself that he hated it when she cried and so, sighing resignedly, started to rise off the bed.
"Oh, fine, I'll do it…" he muttered darkly, moving to find some clothes. I hate mood swings. But when he turned and saw the look on his wife's face, he knew he would do anything to see her smile like that. "I'll be back as soon as I can…" he whispered, leaning down to peck her briefly on the lips. "Love you."
Hermione smiled brightly up at him. "Love you too."
Harry readjusted his cloak, and turned towards the wall shelves, on top of which sat a pot of Floo powder; although he could have, he dared not Apparate-he was afraid he was so sleepy he would splinch himself if he tried-so he settled for grabbing a pinch of the glittering powder and throwing it into the fireplace, from where green flames instantly rose.
Stepping right into the fire, he took a deep breath and shouted, "The Mexican Ministry of Magic!"
***
Harry staggered out of the fireplace, coughing violently as he inhaled a mouthful of hot ash; Floo Network had never been his favorite means of transportation and even now, ten years after his first experience back at the Burrow, he still had trouble with it, no matter how many times he'd used the dratted thing.
He straightened up, and was immediately knocked off his feet as someone else emerged from the fire, bumping into him from behind and sending them both flying to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs.
Damn, I forgot to bloody move…
Groaning, he rubbed gingerly at the lump on his forehead where it had been introduced to the mexican floor, his teeth clenched in an effort to keep from spewing forth strings of obscenities that no one needed to hear in any language.
His companion wasn't as considerate, though.
"Fíjate por dónde andas, cabrón!!!" hissed a thoroughly pissed female voice that made Harry wince.
Sitting up slightly, he stammered an apology in English, remembered that he wasn't in England anymore and with a slight cry of frustration realized he'd forgotten to ask Hermione about the Translation spell; Harry'd been to Mexico before, during their world tour for their honeymoon, but that was two years before and Hermione had been with him. His Spanish was next to inexistent.
"Perdoname," he finally mumbled, awkwardly, offering her a hand up. But the young woman, a stunning brunette with long dark lashes was staring slack- jawed at a point above his eyebrow and Harry, realizing she was oggling at his scar, began to feel very self-conscious. "Uh, miss?"
The woman blinked, startled out of her stupor, and a large smile drew itself on her lips as she clapped her hands with glee. "Eres Harry Potter, el Niño-que-vivió!!! ("You're Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived!!!")" she eyed him up and down with an upraised eyebrow. "Y qué cuero estás… (roughly translated as "You're very cute")"
Harry shushed her, looking nervously around, but a small crowd had already gathered around them and was steadily growing larger; there was a lot of whispering and pointing, and everyone was trying to peek at his scar, which he hastily tried to cover although he knew it was useless.
"Miren todos! (Look, everyone!) Es Harry Potter!!!" shouted someone, which unleashed a chain of "Harry Potter!!!" and "El Niño-que-vivió!!!" cries of as everyone started to close in around the pair of them.
Harry rolled his eyes before jumping up and dusting himself off while glaring at his feet; he was ready to Disapparate the second anyone even tried to become physical, but just as he was steeling himself to do so a voice rang out loudly and a shower of orange-red sparks shot up from somewhere behind the mob, making them all turn.
"Andenle, dejen pasar!!! Disperso! DISPERSO!!!"
Soon the crowd parted, and Harry watched with a mix of relief and trepidation as no less than four reinforcement wizards pushed their way towards him, wands up and in front of them.
The leader of the group, a short (but wide about shoulders), brown-skinned man was shouting orders in Spanish, and when he finally reached Harry he grinned cheerfully up at him.
"Good afternoon, sir!" he said in heavily accented English, sticking out his hand for Harry to take. "And welcome to Mexico!"
Harry smiled and shook his hand politely. "Thank you very much, Mr…"
"Ramirez, sir," the man said. "Apolonio Ramirez at your service."
"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Ramirez, I'm-"
The man waved a hand in dismissal. "Oh, I already know who you are, Mr. Potter, everyone here does. It is an honor to have you in Mexico, sir."
Harry blinked. "Er… thanks, I suppose…"
The shorter man smiled. "The Minister would like a word with you, sir, if it is possible."
Harry mentally groaned; he'd expected to avoid recognition by entering through the Ministry-his status as top qualified Auror (and Chief Auror at that) allowed him certain privileges, which included skating through customs abroad with no problems and exempt of search and submission to wand registration-but everything seemed to be going wrong for him that night.
Afternoon, he corrected himself as he followed gloomily after Mr. Ramirez and the other reinforcement wizards; it was five in the afternoon in Mexico, and drowsiness was slowly starting to kick back in. The things you do for love…
***
"Señor Potter! Welcome to Mexico!!!"
"Thank you very much, minister…" Harry said carefully as he surveyed the man whose hand he was shaking; Maximiliano Ayala was a tall, noble-looking wizard, who was well cherished in the wizard community both for his kindness and tenacity, and he had a certain air about him that made you want to be friends with him. The man was easygoing and quite likable in the whole, yet he had one fault: he talked way too much.
As the minister praised his part in the war and thanked him for the tenth time for saving the world from a wretched fate Harry stared fixedly, with slightly glazed eyes, at the huge emblem of the Quetzalcoatl (the plumed serpent) that hung regally on the wall; it was the symbol of Wizarding Mexico but, even though it was supposed to be benevolent, was still regarded with mistrust by Harry, who found it too reminiscent of Slytherin and the twenty feet basilisk that had nearly killed him at age twelve.
"So, are you on a mission?" asked the minister finally, snapping him out of his stupor.
Harry blinked, his sleep deprived brain a little slow at first, and then shook his head.
"Yes" he answered gravely, "I need to get a hold of double cheese Nachos for my pregnant wife as soon as possible."
Ayala regarded him with a surprised look on his face, then threw back his head and laughed heartily; this in turn made Harry smile sheepishly as he realized how funny indeed his situation was: the great Harry Potter, Chief Auror to the United Kingdom's Ministry of Magic and eight times savior of the world, turned potty by a few well-chosen words and eye-batting from his wife.
"Of course," the man said after he'd calmed down a little, though still chuckling, and leaned back against his chair., "I remember those times well; I particularly recall a time when Adela was expecting our second child and she woke me up at three in the morning because she wanted peanut and banana sandwich with strawberry jam…" he paused and grinned cheekily., "fortunately, I only had to travel as far as the kitchen."
Harry sighed, deflated. "Yeah, well, as weird as it sounds, I sort of wish she'd asked for peanut and banana sandwich with strawberry jam; as it is, she wanted double cheese Nachos and everything's closed for curfew right now…" he then smiled fondly. "yeah, well, she's worthy, my Hermione…"
"Even coming all the way to good old 'Méjico' to find them…" the minister smiled impishly. "well, the least I can offer you is an escort and interpreter in your quest," his eyes twinkled., "I understand you're not very fluent in Spanish."
Harry blushed and voiced his thanks, which the older man dismissed with a wave of his hand. He then wrote something on a piece of red-colored paper and snapped his fingers, and it folded itself magically into a paper crane that flew rapidly out of the office's door.
Harry gave a lop-sided smile as he looked after the Interdepartmental memo, which he personally thought was a lot more creative than the Ministry's (his own Ministry, that is) plain paper airplanes.
They chatted for a few minutes, and minister Ayala was just telling Harry about the last Dark Magic activity in the district, two days before, when there was a soft knock and the door opened, revealing, to Harry's surprise, the same young woman he'd bumped into on his less-than-gracious entrance.
She flashed him an inconspicuous smile and strode right up to the older man, who had stood up upon her arrival and shook his hand politely.
"Buenas tardes, señor ministro; recibí su memo. ("Good evening, minister, I received you memo")" she said in a sugar-coated voice, shaking the minister's hand; she then turned to the slack-jawed Harry, who had also gotten to his feet, and smiled at him. "Good evening, Mr. Potter," she said in perfect English, offering him a hand, "my name is Araceli Villa, but you may call me Araceli."
Harry blinked and shook her hand ruefully, looking more than a little confused.
"Er… pleased to meet you…"
The minister marched up to them and placed a hand on the young woman's shoulder, smiling cheerfully at Harry.
"Araceli is one of the best Aurors to the Magical Law Enforcement, Harry, and she has graciously accepted to be your escort for tonight…"
***
The Magical Community in Mexico stood out among those scattered around the globe mainly for one reason: they had the biggest metropolis in the world.
Although the United Kingdom had one of the largest wizard population and possessed one the most organized and advanced political and economical systems, aside from being recipient to the finest educational institution with Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Mexico prided itself of having the oldest and biggest city inhabited and ran by only wizards in the world; just 45 minutes away from and about 31 miles north east to City of Mexico, Teotihuacán was first founded around 600 BC by the Tula and later on replaced by the wizard tribe of the Mexica (later known as the Aztecs, whom muggles believed to be one of the greatest civilizations-which was essentially true except for the 'tiny' fact that they were also magical), thus constituting one of the most important cultural centers in Mexico, both in the muggle and magical community although, and whereas to the former it represented an archaeological treasure (a complex series of antique concealments charms concealed the city's true appearance, making it appear as mere ruins to muggle eyes) to magic folk it represented the entire governmental State.
Teotihuacán was meticulously planned in a complex grid pattern; every 57 meters there were street intersections, whizzing with magical activity, aside from a whole ceremonial center that included temples, patios, murals, sculptures and sacred altars, covering an area of 156 square kilometers, and yet the main attractions were constituted by the pyramids dedicated to the Sun and Moon: the Pyramid of the Sun, the tallest and oldest of the two, was a magnificent structure with a volume of 2.5 million tones worth of stone and earth, and its alignment had been designed to coincide with the two days a year (May 19th and July 25th) when the Sun would be directly over the top of the pyramid at noon, and where the East façade directly faced the rising sun, while the West façade directly faced the sun as it set; inside this pyramid (entrance to which was constituted by a clover leaf shaped cave at the West side, which muggle archaeologists believed had been formed by a subterranean spring) were the installments of the Ministry of Magic, along with the International Apparition Point and Portkey Port.
The Pyramid of the Moon, slightly smaller than its sister, was located at the end of the mile long Avenue of the Dead, and harbored the equivalent to St. Mungo's within its depths;the top of this pyramid provided the best overall view of the city.
It was like having the Ministry, St. Mungo's and Diagon Alley all in one place.
Harry knew all this thanks to Hermione who, ever eager to know and impart knowledge, had told him all about it as soon as their worlds had stopped spinning from the Portkey they'd taken in Rio, their second stop in their world tour Honeymoon and he recalled the memory fondly, unconsciously playing with the gold band on his finger as he and Araceli emerged from the Pyramid of the Sun, ignoring the stares and frenzied whispering around them.
He did immediately notice the sudden change of temperature, however, and although he was accustomed to coolness, it was summer back in England, and so when they walked out he was immediately hit by such an intense wave of cold that he was forced to pull his cloak tighter around him.
You so owe me, 'Mione…, he thought with a sigh, but a little smile lingered on his lips as he watched the setting sun paint lovely colors in the sky.
Hermione would have loved to see this.
***
They'd taken the subway to City of Mexico, and as the two of them sat together in the train Harry was hard pressed to think this was most assuredly the worst night of his life; not only had he been woken from a very pleasant dream by his craving wife and forced to floo all the way across the Atlantic to buy her some bloody Nachos, he'd also nearly been mobbed, dozed off in front of the minister of magic and generally wasted a lot of time by trying to avoid customs.
Oh, and he was sporting a big nice bruise on the forehead and was also quite cold since he'd had to remove his cloak and shrink it (enough so that it fit in the pocket of his jeans) in order to blend in among the muggles.
Still, he could have ignored all this if it wasn't for the extremely annoying company he'd been stuck with; while Araceli was very beautiful, especially now that she wasn't screaming her head off and insulting him (oh, he hadn't understood a word she'd said before, but it had been obvious from her bright red cheeks and indignant sputtering) and nice to talk to, it was grating on Harry's nerves how she kept sidling up to him, whispering in his ear with her hand in his shoulder. He tried not to let it bother him, but it was becoming really hard.
"Have you ever been to Mexico before?" Araceli asked, picking at a spot in his shirt. Harry frowned, and removed her hand gently.
"Yes," he said, then added shortly, "two years ago in my Honeymoon. My wife and I had a really nice three days in Acapulco."
He saw Araceli's smile fall a little at the mention of Hermione.
Good.
"That's so sweet of you!" she said, batting her eyes at him, "But I think your wife has no consideration of you."
Harry frowned further. "What do you mean?"
"Well, our job is very strenuous, and when you get home all you wanna do is sleep," she said, smiling, "Believe me, I would know; she's being very selfish…"
Harry's temper was starting to boil.
"She's not selfish, she's pregnant," he said, gritting his teeth, "and I don't mind doing this for her."
But even though she was smiling, Harry couldn't help but notice it was a little forced.
They got down at the next stop, and Harry was once again awed at the beauty of the Mexican architecture; though not at all like the regal pyramids of Teotihuacán, which had an air of mysticism around them, the 'Colonia Condesa' had a charm of its own and, with its spectacular displays of Art Decó, this neighborhood was in every way as posh and quaint as the Parisian 'Quartier Latin'.
It was dark now, but the Colony was bursting with life-it was, after all, one of the most beautiful places in Mexico City for visitors to go to, but as the two of them walked together through Mexico Park, Araceli blabbing on while 'accidentally' brushing against him Harry couldn't help but feel a little sad, wishing it were Hermione enjoying the full moon reflected on the lagoon with him, and watching the family of ducklings that swam swiftly on its surface, one behind the other.
When the baby is old enough, he thought dreamily, I'll get him or her a duck… and a dog-no, a cat, Hermione likes cats… although, if I get him a cat it'll probably eat her duck...
Harry chuckled, amused, as he realized the silliness of his musings; pre-parenthood had the effect of turning his brain into a puddle of goo whenever he thought about their incoming baby and how much he was going to spoil him/her.
After a few more 'accidental' bumping they finally made it to Plaza Iztaccihuatl, where Harry spied a lot of food stands and, sighing with obvious relief, followed Araceli towards a most decent stand, named 'El Taquito': a young man was standing at the grill, flipping a pair of corn 'tortillas', and when he saw them he smiled cheerfully at them.
"Celi!!! Qué onda, guey? Hacía mucho que no te pasabas! (roughly translated as "How's it going? It's been a while!")"
"Manolo!!! Cómo va la chamba? ("How's work?")"
As if he wasn't in a hurry, Harry was then treated to the most confusing minutes of his life as the two [apparently] friends spoke in rapid Spanish, often glancing at him and chuckling.
"Er… Araceli?" he ventured, finally, and both adults turned to look at him, the brunette smiling impishly at him. "I'm in a kind of a hurry, if you know what I mean…"
Araceli laughed, shaking her head. "Oh, Harry, I was just going to…"
She turned back to Manolo and ordered half a dozen, and Harry visibly relaxed; at least his quest was nearly over, and he would soon be able to go back home, far, far away from this woman who, quite frankly, freaked him out.
Five minutes later Manolo was handing him a plastic box containing the blasted nachos and asking him about 'lana'; Harry, completely bewildered, glanced at his guide. "What on earth is he asking me about wool for?"
Araceli suddenly burst out laughing, thus bringing unwanted attention (again) to them; Harry scowled. "What?"
"Oh, dear," she finally let out, wiping at her eyes and clutching her stomach from laughing so hard. She grinned at him, "'lana' means 'money' in Mexico, handsome; he's asking you for the money!"
Harry felt himself flush with embarrassment, but it quickly turned into horror when he realized his predicament.
"Bollocks!!!" he hissed, slapping himself on the forehead, "I don't have any muggle money on me!!!"
"Even if you did it would have been useless, since we use pesos, not pounds, handsome," she said dryly, and Harry groaned.
"I can't believe I didn't think about it before!!!" he said, starting to panic, "What am I going to do?"
Araceli's eyes glinted and her grin turned predatory, but Harry didn't notice in his distress.
"Well… I could always lend you the money…"
Harry turned to look at her so quickly he nearly broke his neck.
"Would you?" he said, his voice hopeful. "Oh, God, you're an angel!!! You just saved my life… I'll pay you back in Galleons…"
Araceli flashed him a lazy smile and turned back to Manolo, who had been looking quizzically at the two wizards, clearly not understanding a word they were saying.
"It's alright, Harry, I don't mind…"
She handed the man a couple of bills and said something to him in Spanish that made him laugh; she waved at him and walked a little past Harry, who looked back at Manolo, shouted "Gracias!" and then jogged back to Araceli, holding his purchase in his hands.
Finally… he thought, I can go back to sleep…
"Araceli, THANK you," he repeated then, loudly, "how much do I owe you in Galleons? I'm afraid I'm not familiar with Mexican currency, so-"
He couldn't finish his sentence as Araceli, who had been quiet for the last minute, suddenly rounded on him, pushing him hard enough against a tree to make him drop the plastic box he was holding and pressing her body-and lips-to his.
"You don't have to give me money" she murmured against his mouth, "just come up with me to my apartment for a while, we aren't very far…"
Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing; he was so shocked that he didn't immediately respond, and then he was so infused with so much anger that he was sure he would explode any minute.
Shoving her hard away from him and wiping his mouth with his sleeve he shot daggers at her.
"What do you think you're doing?!" he growled, "I'm married!!!"
The brunette smirked, completely unaffected, and ran a hand down his chest. "Well, your wife doesn't have to know about this, does she?"
Harry saw red; towering over her he glared down at the young woman, face white with ire and chest heaving with exertion.
"Whatever gave you the idea that I wanted anything to do with you?!" he bellowed, uncaring of the crowd that was forming around them and watched instead with incredulity as Araceli's grin only widened.
"A man gets lonely," she purred, "your wife is obviously not enough, and Harry Potter deserves the best."
Harry's eyes nearly bugged out; he could strangle the little tart…
"I love my wife" he said, through gritted teeth; he couldn't believe there were people like Araceli (who was supposedly a respectable Auror in the magical community) who wanted to cause such pain to two people so obviously (his and Hermione's personal lives weren't on the entire magical world's papers for nothing) in love with each other. It disgusted him. "We're having a baby, and I have never been happier with my life than I am right now, so I don't need you to tell me what's best for me. I have the best, and she's waiting for me back home to bring her what she so rightly deserves, so excuse me if I just leave you here to fend for yourself."
Ignoring the stunned expression on her face, he bent to collect the discarded box of nachos and then turned from her with a glare, fully intending to stalk away and leave her there, but then he remembered something; grabbing a handful of Galleons from his pocket, he walked back towards where she was standing, pried her hand open and put the coins in it.
And then he stalked away.
***
When he walked into their room, Hermione was lying asleep on her side facing him, pregnant belly resting on the comforter, a gorgeous smile on her lips; he was exhausted and angry, but when he looked at her angelic face he felt all his anguish drain away to be replaced but a sudden wave of tenderness.
This woman was worth everything.
He pushed a lose strand of hair behind her ear, his smile dimming a little; he would tell her everything that had happened, of course-they didn't hide anything from each other-but later.
He bent to kiss her softly on the forehead, and was rewarded with a little grunt from her, followed by a flutter of her eyelids as she woke and looked groggily up at him.
"Hey…" he whispered, smiling down at her.
She smiled back, still sleepy. "Hi…"
"I brought you your nachos…" he said, feeling pride at his accomplishment swell in his chest; she was going to be so happy!
Hermione blinked, sitting up.
"Oh, darling!" she gushed, apologetically, "You were gone so long that the craving passed and I fell asleep… I don't want nachos anymore…" her eyes lit up. "Though I would love some rolls of kappamaki right now."
Harry blinked.
And blinked again.
And then blinked some more.
Finally, sighing, he stood up and started heading for the door.
"Harry?"
He stopped and glanced back with a resigned look on his face.
"I'm going to grab a bottle of Pepper Up potion from the kitchen and that Instantaneous Translation Talisman you bought for our Honeymoon; if I had trouble with Spanish there's no way I'll survive in Japan-I'll have to be able to understand what they're saying in case I run into a kappa…"
To be continued…
A/N: PLEASE READ!!! I know what vision some people have about 'latinos' (a term I find most undermining and totally discriminating) as well… tarts, if you'll have it, but I did not mean to contribute to that stereotyping AT ALL (hell, I'm latin!); Araceli is a completely fictional character that only served to my purpose-I wanted to underline Harry's love and complete devotion to Hermione, so I hope you don't let yourselves be influenced by her. Oh, and if there are any Mexican people reading this, I'm so sorry!!! Both for Araceli and the violation of the Aztec culture ***grins sheepishly*** I love you guys!!!
anastasiapotter, is this soon enough? ***grins***
Lindsey, I like baby stories too, and I'm glad you like mine!
RavenclawChrissie, ***grins*** I know what you mean; I have never had that particular problem, but I'm the girl after all. My dad is as protective of me as Ted is, and it's hilarious to watch my boyfriends squirm under his gaze!!!
Fernanda, it makes me happy to write and get so wonderful reviews, so keep R/R!!!
Prue1912, your wish is my command…
The real HOPE, well, it wasn't a month, was it? ***grins*** Actually, I'd already posted the first four chaps. at ff.net, but I was too tired last night to post the last two here… you might have to wait a while for July, but I don't think it'll be a month…
Rodrigo, thanks for reviewing!!!
KypDurron, yeah, I love The Talk. ***grins*** And I hadn't thought about the Dursley's, but I guess they're not that important, so… ***smiles***
Jouve25, ***laughs*** how's June for insecure? And well, July will focus more on that too… Oops, I wasn't supposed to tell you that!
Meg, well, someone told me it wasn't a very original plot once, but I'm glad you like it!!!
Loudmeggaphone, is this soon enough? ***smiles*** Oh, I thought it was hilarious too, BUT, June keeps being my favorite chapter so far. I laughed myself silly writing in Mexican-Spanish, because and although I'm a native Spanish speaker as well, some expressions are so unusual for me, and I felt really weird writing them…
TwistedAnjel, my first reviewer… Thank you loads!!! I hope to hear from you again soon!
And to everyone else I've forgotten, thank you all!!! I love you guys!
To anyone else, I've forgotten, thank you!!! I love you all!