[And they do fall in behind him, all four of them - James leading the pack, coming in to step in right beside Sirius, the other three half a step behind. They're ushered up the steps, into the castle - Miles keeps nearly falling behind, swinging awed, wide eyes on everything which is so strange and inexplicable and exciting, paintings moving and strange and shadowy corners and the air heavy with the smell of old books, pleasant and musty. He doesn't see Rosier again; that's good. He does see a few others who look as astonished as he is, who point and whisper; he resolves to be a little bit cooler than they are, and even though he stares in stunned amazement he does keep his sheer astonishment quiet.
They're led into an astonishing hall, a hall showing above a great sky dotted with stars and luminescent clouds. Miles sees the hat before them, and knows this is what Sirius was talking about. And for a moment, doubt and fear grip him - what if he and Sirius are sorted into different houses - he doesn't care about these others yet, not as much, but he doesn't...want to be by himself.
(But it doesn't matter. Even if they end up separate, they'll still be friends; Sirius all but promised that.)]
[Sirius has eyes only for the Sorting Hat. He knows James is there as well, and Peter and Remus and Miles--and the Great Hall is full of faces that he knows, cousins, people he's seen at holidays and parties and crossed paths with in Diagon Alley, everyone with their respective parents, staring silent and round-eyed at one another. Pureblood society. Sirius dreads it, does not want the Malfoy heir to clap him on the shoulder the way he always does, like they're friends or like they even know one another.
Black is right at the top of the alphabet, so once the speeches are done--he doesn't hear a word of them, he's staring at that hat--it only takes a few moments for his name to be called. Black, Sirius! and James is elbowing him forward, beaming, and Sirius is no coward, but he feels a twist of misgiving deep in his stomach as he steps up that first stair. None of it shows in his face--he's cool and calm and collected, for all intents and purposes--and he climbs on the stool and lets that hat be placed on his head.
For Sirius, it's an intense minute. But only a minute, maybe half a minute, if someone were honestly timing it--and then the hat shouts, GRYFFINDOR, and Sirius' eyes spring open, staring in shock out at the Great Hall, his hands clenched on the seat of the stool.]
[Miles watches Sirius. He sees the utter shock in the other boy's face, and he's pretty certain he knows why. He's naive to all the stuff here, but he's not stupid; he saw the way Rosier (sitting far back at the Slytherin table, hair still mussed) had treated Sirius, and he'd seen the way that the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had stopped watching the proceedings as soon as they'd heard Sirius' name, how the Slytherins alone had been still intent on the Sorting. And he hears, now, the utter silence before the applause starts to trickle in, mixed with sheer confused whispers.
Miles doesn't know exactly why it is that they'd all thought Sirius would go to Slytherin. He doesn't know whether it has something to do with Sirius himself or some family expectation, maybe. He does know, though, that James, beside him, is starting to clap and holler, with a volume that more than matches the noise coming from the rest of the hall, and Miles joins in, and Remus, and Peter, and then the applause from the Gryffindors starts to seem more genuine, with real cheers mixed in with the clapping.
The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs look confused more than anything. The Slytherins, meanwhile, are whispering to one another; a few of them look outright venomous. But the applause is consistent, and James calls out, Go on - ]
[Sirius looks at the Slytherin table first, reading the shock and outrage and confusion--but the Gryffindors are clapping, James is shouting at him, and he has to look at them--can't avoid it--still dazed, he climbs down off of the stool, and James pats him heartily on the back, pounding on him as he passes by to the long table draped in red and gold. Knew you could do it, James shouts, well done, and the noise is dying down a little, but there's still a persistent murmur from the Slytherin table. Or maybe that's only in Sirius' imagination.
He looks at Miles as he passes by, his face a little pale, but he manages a smile for him.]
Gryffindor.
[Miles won't know, why this is so terrible and incredible--and Sirius needs that ignorance, for a moment.]
[And Miles steps forward, then, and reaches out and clasps Sirius' forearm, a gesture of bracing and of support. It's very earnest, that gesture, and later he'll be embarrassed, but for now he says fervently:]
It's where you belong.
[And then he lets him go. And he's happy to see that the Gryffindors, in spite of their earlier quiet, are greeting Sirius with hearty thumps on the back, shaking his hand.
A dozen other students are distributed out to each of the four houses before Edgeworth is called. At the Slytherin table, Rosier is jostling the people around him and pointing; Miles, in spite of his terror, can't help but smile a bit.
He is terrified, though. More than a little bit. He doesn't know the criteria by which he will be selected, and it would be embarrassing - beyond embarrassing - to not be sorted into Gryffindor, after that. To be sorted instead into Hufflepuff - though Miles doesn't know what Sirius was going on about with all that; they seem like a remarkably kind group, and no one applauds louder for the other houses than they do...And the Ravenclaws are all right, too, he thinks, because there are a few of them with books out right now in the middle of the feast, like he always used to do at school lunches - The Slytherins seem monstrous, though, and he has no desire to be near them.
The Sorting Hat, at least, rules out Slytherin as a possibility at once. The strange and ghostly voice mutters in his ear that any of the other three houses would suit. You would find most like you in Ravenclaw, it promises, but also reflects that Hufflepuff is most home to those for whom helping others is the highest priority - and Miles is intent on helping others, it reflects. Gryffindor, meanwhile, has those who are willing to bend the rules, who will face things with courage - and while Miles is brave, rulebreaking isn't something he's ever done, is it...
Miles sits on the chair for six minutes in all. He keeps his eyes closed the entire time, not wanting to look out on the faces of any of the other students, wanting to maintain concentration - yet at minute four, the Hat seems to have ruled out Gryffindor, waffling between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, weighing the merits of each of them. But when it seems poised to decide, Miles sends up a desperate plea - that Sirius is in Gryffindor, that he wants to be with his new friend, and finally, finally, the Hat pauses to confirm with him and declares:]
Gryffindor!
[There's a long sigh that sweeps through the hall; that had been a long wait, and Sortings that long are mesmerizing. The applause from the Gryffindor table is instantaneous and enthusiastic, which makes Miles smile in mingled gladness and relief; he hops down, very glad to be off-stage, and scoots over to the table as quickly as he can to make room for the girl coming after him.]
[Sirius felt all of the backpatting in a daze. Only Miles' grip on his shoulder had really registered, and even that felt a little dim. He sat at the table, staring at its scarred surface, where hundreds of years of other students had sat before him--Gryffindors, all of them.
Gryffindor. He doesn't dare look around to the Slytherin table. There's something in his chest that feels like it's burning, but it isn't unpleasant.
He looks up when he hears Miles' voice being called--still a little dazed, but able to focus on him, at least. If Sirius is in Gryffindor, than surely he will be as well--for all his cleverness and bookishness, he belongs in Gryffindor. He has to be in Gryffindor.
And so when the Hat calls out Gryffindor, Sirius shakes out of his haze of surprise completely, and applauds with the rest of them--louder than the rest of them, even, and shoves over on the bench to make room for Miles, his heart hammering in his chest.]
[Miles feels a little bit dazed himself. There's no weight of history on him, but one cannot listen to a six-minute debate over one's mental characteristics, in a haze of fear that the Hat would announce the fact that he'd cheated once on a math test in third grade and has been ashamed ever since and trying to pay penance, and not feel at the end like one has woken up from a strange and rather frightening dream. But he's awake now, and being clapped on the shoulder and cheerfully congratulated and having a dozen students introducing themselves, the names forgotten as soon as they're said, and he's seating himself at a battered old table amongst boys and girls in red and slowly starting to realize that this is really real.
He sits next to Sirius, grabs at his arm in a gesture of greeting as he sits down. And he confesses in a whisper - perhaps not the best opening statement considering that he was just sorted into a house famed for bravery - ]
[Sirius laughs--maybe a little too loudly, one of the prefects a little down the table looks at him--but he's so relieved, so happy--and that's what this feeling is, surely, even above the fear and the nerves, he's happy--]
I know. But it wasn't that bad, really, in the end, and it's over, and we're--
[He grins. The Hat is still going on, deliberating over a Greengrass--settles for Ravenclaw, but Sirius isn't even watching.]
[It's a strange thing, to sit on a chair and sit still and be judged and feel like you've accomplished something; but he does. He feels rinsed out, tired, elated. Indeed - ]
I feel like a defendant who just got a not-guilty verdict.
[And he lets out a little laugh, self-conscious and proud, and then elbows Sirius.]
I saw Rosier with the Slytherins. He looked ready to pass out when he saw me.
[It's a weird analogy, and it makes Sirius laugh. The reference to Rosier--the in-joke of that--makes him laugh again, and he twists around to look for Rosier just as the Hat Sorts Remus into Gryffindor as well. He breaks into applause for that, his happiness rising with each second.]
Slytherin. Rosier is Slytherin. You're going to kill him with fear in whatever class we have doubles with Slytherin--you have to sit next to him.
[Overly jubilant, Sirius thumps Remus on the back. This is not the way he should be behaving. He has better manners than this, he is above this--but his excitement leaves all of that behind.]
We could make it so you pass for a ghost, for sure. Between all of us, we could do that, then he'd really be scared.
[Sirius is keener to be aggressive, to get on Rosier before he can get on them--but Remus intervenes. He probably won't. He'll be way too frightened.--and Sirius can agree with that assessment, at least.]
Probably. He's a coward, obviously. Hey, after the Feast, we should get someone to fix your ankle, Miles. [A beat; he glances down the table.] Not Professor McGonagall. I've heard of her.
[But Miles follows Sirius' sightline to the witch in the tall hat, with her hair up in a tight bun and a severe expression. He knows at once that that's not it at all; he is certain that she is very good. He is also certain that she will not be remotely amused by the boil-shenanigans.]
Um...No, I - that's probably a good idea. Is there a designated nurse, or...?
[Madam Pomfrey, Remus supplies, because he's clever and he knows things like that, useful things. Already Sirius is sussing out the roles in all of this. (Perhaps it's a leftover pureblood instinct, making sense of people n an orderly way. He doesn't think of it that way.) The hospital wing is on the third floor, in the western side of the castle.]
We'll go after the Sorting, then. After the feast. You don't know anything about the feast, do you? It's brilliant, I've heard.
[He shakes his head. It's brilliant I've heard means that Sirius probably doesn't actually know all that much about it himself, but Miles isn't going to point that out - not with that proud, happy expression on his face.]
No, I don't. Aside from what you've told me.
[Pettigrew, Peter is called; the Hat is placed on his head and begins muttering to itself.]
[Peter's up, Remus informs them, and Sirius spares the process a brief glance before turning back to Miles again.]
Everything you can imagine to eat, all of it. And it just appears before you, right on the plates. House elves have the best sort of magic when it comes to food, and they're really excellent cooks--and Hogwarts has loads of them, but they're so good, you never even see them. It's brilliant.
[Miles looks down at his bare plate, excited for the prospect of yet another show of magic. And excited, too, for food, because he is absolutely starving. That candy on the train was quite tasty, but...Well.]
They live here in the castle, they always have-- oh, well done!
[That's because the Sorting Hat has just shouted out GRYFFINDOR for Peter, who hops down from the stool, pale-faced and sweaty. He nearly falls down the steps when he goes for the table, but James--passing by on his way to his own Sorting--catches him, and steadies him, and sends him on his way.]
[But even as he's asking that, he's interrupted by a quick, sure, confident call of Gryffindor from the Hat. It hadn't even taken a second; James is clearly proud of that, bounding away from the stool and towards the rest of them, beaming, clapping Peter on the back as he just about passes him. The two of them sit down together at the table; James looks pleased, Peter a little dazed.
How many more before we get to eat are James' first words as a Gryffindor. What's that, six up there...]
[Sirius laughs, jumping up to clap James on the back, first--sitting down again once James has joined them. This is precisely as it ought to be, he thinks, happily. All of them in Gryffindor--Sirius in Gryffindor seems impossible still, as if the Hat will call him back up and take it all back--]
Yeah, six-- I was just telling Miles about the feast, how brilliant it's going to be--
[I'm skipping right to pudding, Peter tells them, grinning. He's as pleased as the rest of them, his face shiny and happy, and Sirius grins back.]
[Yeah, who says! Peter echoes. He'd quailed a little at that instruction from Miles, but he finds strength in Sirius' defiance. We're on our own now. Sort of, and he adds that as he glances down the table to where McGonagall is standing.]
Definitely on our own. We could just eat pudding every day, if we wanted.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
carisma_sensei
i'm not even mad
Date: 2013-10-30 06:27 pm (UTC)They're led into an astonishing hall, a hall showing above a great sky dotted with stars and luminescent clouds. Miles sees the hat before them, and knows this is what Sirius was talking about. And for a moment, doubt and fear grip him - what if he and Sirius are sorted into different houses - he doesn't care about these others yet, not as much, but he doesn't...want to be by himself.
(But it doesn't matter. Even if they end up separate, they'll still be friends; Sirius all but promised that.)]
je m'appelle claude
Date: 2013-10-30 09:45 pm (UTC)Black is right at the top of the alphabet, so once the speeches are done--he doesn't hear a word of them, he's staring at that hat--it only takes a few moments for his name to be called. Black, Sirius! and James is elbowing him forward, beaming, and Sirius is no coward, but he feels a twist of misgiving deep in his stomach as he steps up that first stair. None of it shows in his face--he's cool and calm and collected, for all intents and purposes--and he climbs on the stool and lets that hat be placed on his head.
For Sirius, it's an intense minute. But only a minute, maybe half a minute, if someone were honestly timing it--and then the hat shouts, GRYFFINDOR, and Sirius' eyes spring open, staring in shock out at the Great Hall, his hands clenched on the seat of the stool.]
that's not an anchorman quote
Date: 2013-10-30 10:27 pm (UTC)Miles doesn't know exactly why it is that they'd all thought Sirius would go to Slytherin. He doesn't know whether it has something to do with Sirius himself or some family expectation, maybe. He does know, though, that James, beside him, is starting to clap and holler, with a volume that more than matches the noise coming from the rest of the hall, and Miles joins in, and Remus, and Peter, and then the applause from the Gryffindors starts to seem more genuine, with real cheers mixed in with the clapping.
The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs look confused more than anything. The Slytherins, meanwhile, are whispering to one another; a few of them look outright venomous. But the applause is consistent, and James calls out, Go on - ]
wait we were quoting anchorman????
Date: 2013-10-31 10:37 am (UTC)He looks at Miles as he passes by, his face a little pale, but he manages a smile for him.]
Gryffindor.
[Miles won't know, why this is so terrible and incredible--and Sirius needs that ignorance, for a moment.]
Good luck.
dammit brick
Date: 2013-10-31 01:06 pm (UTC)It's where you belong.
[And then he lets him go. And he's happy to see that the Gryffindors, in spite of their earlier quiet, are greeting Sirius with hearty thumps on the back, shaking his hand.
A dozen other students are distributed out to each of the four houses before Edgeworth is called. At the Slytherin table, Rosier is jostling the people around him and pointing; Miles, in spite of his terror, can't help but smile a bit.
He is terrified, though. More than a little bit. He doesn't know the criteria by which he will be selected, and it would be embarrassing - beyond embarrassing - to not be sorted into Gryffindor, after that. To be sorted instead into Hufflepuff - though Miles doesn't know what Sirius was going on about with all that; they seem like a remarkably kind group, and no one applauds louder for the other houses than they do...And the Ravenclaws are all right, too, he thinks, because there are a few of them with books out right now in the middle of the feast, like he always used to do at school lunches - The Slytherins seem monstrous, though, and he has no desire to be near them.
The Sorting Hat, at least, rules out Slytherin as a possibility at once. The strange and ghostly voice mutters in his ear that any of the other three houses would suit. You would find most like you in Ravenclaw, it promises, but also reflects that Hufflepuff is most home to those for whom helping others is the highest priority - and Miles is intent on helping others, it reflects. Gryffindor, meanwhile, has those who are willing to bend the rules, who will face things with courage - and while Miles is brave, rulebreaking isn't something he's ever done, is it...
Miles sits on the chair for six minutes in all. He keeps his eyes closed the entire time, not wanting to look out on the faces of any of the other students, wanting to maintain concentration - yet at minute four, the Hat seems to have ruled out Gryffindor, waffling between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, weighing the merits of each of them. But when it seems poised to decide, Miles sends up a desperate plea - that Sirius is in Gryffindor, that he wants to be with his new friend, and finally, finally, the Hat pauses to confirm with him and declares:]
Gryffindor!
[There's a long sigh that sweeps through the hall; that had been a long wait, and Sortings that long are mesmerizing. The applause from the Gryffindor table is instantaneous and enthusiastic, which makes Miles smile in mingled gladness and relief; he hops down, very glad to be off-stage, and scoots over to the table as quickly as he can to make room for the girl coming after him.]
i love bricks
Date: 2013-10-31 05:11 pm (UTC)Gryffindor. He doesn't dare look around to the Slytherin table. There's something in his chest that feels like it's burning, but it isn't unpleasant.
He looks up when he hears Miles' voice being called--still a little dazed, but able to focus on him, at least. If Sirius is in Gryffindor, than surely he will be as well--for all his cleverness and bookishness, he belongs in Gryffindor. He has to be in Gryffindor.
And so when the Hat calls out Gryffindor, Sirius shakes out of his haze of surprise completely, and applauds with the rest of them--louder than the rest of them, even, and shoves over on the bench to make room for Miles, his heart hammering in his chest.]
Here--
do you really love bricks or are you just mentioning that because i mentioned it
Date: 2013-10-31 06:41 pm (UTC)[Miles feels a little bit dazed himself. There's no weight of history on him, but one cannot listen to a six-minute debate over one's mental characteristics, in a haze of fear that the Hat would announce the fact that he'd cheated once on a math test in third grade and has been ashamed ever since and trying to pay penance, and not feel at the end like one has woken up from a strange and rather frightening dream. But he's awake now, and being clapped on the shoulder and cheerfully congratulated and having a dozen students introducing themselves, the names forgotten as soon as they're said, and he's seating himself at a battered old table amongst boys and girls in red and slowly starting to realize that this is really real.
He sits next to Sirius, grabs at his arm in a gesture of greeting as he sits down. And he confesses in a whisper - perhaps not the best opening statement considering that he was just sorted into a house famed for bravery - ]
That was terrifying.
no, i really do, i love bricks
Date: 2013-10-31 09:49 pm (UTC)I know. But it wasn't that bad, really, in the end, and it's over, and we're--
[He grins. The Hat is still going on, deliberating over a Greengrass--settles for Ravenclaw, but Sirius isn't even watching.]
We did it.
oh man i love brick architecture
Date: 2013-11-01 02:34 am (UTC)[It's a strange thing, to sit on a chair and sit still and be judged and feel like you've accomplished something; but he does. He feels rinsed out, tired, elated. Indeed - ]
I feel like a defendant who just got a not-guilty verdict.
[And he lets out a little laugh, self-conscious and proud, and then elbows Sirius.]
I saw Rosier with the Slytherins. He looked ready to pass out when he saw me.
legit exposed brick is like my favorite thing.
Date: 2013-11-01 06:30 am (UTC)Slytherin. Rosier is Slytherin. You're going to kill him with fear in whatever class we have doubles with Slytherin--you have to sit next to him.
Man did I ever tell you about the apartment we ddn't get in New York
Date: 2013-11-01 11:40 am (UTC)[Remus joins them at the table; Miles grins at him.]
do i want to hear this or will it depress me
Date: 2013-11-01 03:26 pm (UTC)We could make it so you pass for a ghost, for sure. Between all of us, we could do that, then he'd really be scared.
It will depress you
Date: 2013-11-01 06:59 pm (UTC)[A laugh - ]
But only if he messes with us again, then we'll show him just how bad we can get him back.
SIGH tell me anyways.........
Date: 2013-11-01 09:29 pm (UTC)Probably. He's a coward, obviously. Hey, after the Feast, we should get someone to fix your ankle, Miles. [A beat; he glances down the table.] Not Professor McGonagall. I've heard of her.
Exposed brick EVERYWHERE, huge kitchen...
Date: 2013-11-01 09:37 pm (UTC)[But Miles follows Sirius' sightline to the witch in the tall hat, with her hair up in a tight bun and a severe expression. He knows at once that that's not it at all; he is certain that she is very good. He is also certain that she will not be remotely amused by the boil-shenanigans.]
Um...No, I - that's probably a good idea. Is there a designated nurse, or...?
noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Date: 2013-11-03 03:53 pm (UTC)We'll go after the Sorting, then. After the feast. You don't know anything about the feast, do you? It's brilliant, I've heard.
YOUR PAIN HARDLY COMPARES TO MINE
Date: 2013-11-03 06:48 pm (UTC)No, I don't. Aside from what you've told me.
[Pettigrew, Peter is called; the Hat is placed on his head and begins muttering to itself.]
well yes but IT'S SAD EVEN SECONDHAND
Date: 2013-11-04 03:56 pm (UTC)Everything you can imagine to eat, all of it. And it just appears before you, right on the plates. House elves have the best sort of magic when it comes to food, and they're really excellent cooks--and Hogwarts has loads of them, but they're so good, you never even see them. It's brilliant.
I was going to hang cloth beautifully on the brick...
Date: 2013-11-04 04:08 pm (UTC)[Miles looks down at his bare plate, excited for the prospect of yet another show of magic. And excited, too, for food, because he is absolutely starving. That candy on the train was quite tasty, but...Well.]
So they're employees, then?
don't.... don't torture us.....
Date: 2013-11-04 06:36 pm (UTC)[He wrinkles his nose at Miles a little.]
They live here in the castle, they always have-- oh, well done!
[That's because the Sorting Hat has just shouted out GRYFFINDOR for Peter, who hops down from the stool, pale-faced and sweaty. He nearly falls down the steps when he goes for the table, but James--passing by on his way to his own Sorting--catches him, and steadies him, and sends him on his way.]
James is for Gryffindor, for sure.
I was going to cook brunches...........on the other hand it was a fifth-floor walkup
Date: 2013-11-04 10:58 pm (UTC)[But even as he's asking that, he's interrupted by a quick, sure, confident call of Gryffindor from the Hat. It hadn't even taken a second; James is clearly proud of that, bounding away from the stool and towards the rest of them, beaming, clapping Peter on the back as he just about passes him. The two of them sit down together at the table; James looks pleased, Peter a little dazed.
How many more before we get to eat are James' first words as a Gryffindor. What's that, six up there...]
i'd have done it anyways. fifth floor builds character.
Date: 2013-11-05 09:59 am (UTC)Yeah, six-- I was just telling Miles about the feast, how brilliant it's going to be--
[I'm skipping right to pudding, Peter tells them, grinning. He's as pleased as the rest of them, his face shiny and happy, and Sirius grins back.]
Me too.
If by "character" you mean "butt muscles."
Date: 2013-11-05 12:38 pm (UTC)[But Miles' protest is delivered with a broad and happy grin. The next student is sent to Slytherin; he applauds absently as he continues to talk.]
You have to have vegetables as well. At the very least you must have vegetables after pudding.
that's always what i mean by "character"
Date: 2013-11-05 04:47 pm (UTC)[Yeah, who says! Peter echoes. He'd quailed a little at that instruction from Miles, but he finds strength in Sirius' defiance. We're on our own now. Sort of, and he adds that as he glances down the table to where McGonagall is standing.]
Definitely on our own. We could just eat pudding every day, if we wanted.
Butt = character
Date: 2013-11-05 11:53 pm (UTC)[Miles shakes his head, but he does allow a very small smile in spite of himself.]
but then building character shrinks your overall character... but makes it more muscley.....?
From:Makes your character into a lean mean fighting machine!
From:i don't want mean characters only nice ones
From:Then why do you play the ones you do
From:i only play nice guys what are you trying to say
From:Well "nice" isn't exactly right
From:um excuse you they are nice.
From:I guess it's hard to argue Sirius' niceness in this tag
From:yes i'm always right it's true
From:You are not nice however
From:lies and slander
From:UGH I know it is you're the best :c
From:or are YOU the best
From:I think we're co-besties
From:i'll drink to that!
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:oops pt 2
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From: