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Hopeless by Crescent Moon
Chapter 1 : Waking Up
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 16

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Perfect CI by Cast!el at TDA


Summary: This is just the best morning ever! *Insert an incredibly large amount of sarcasm here* It's just every day that you want to wake up and have your name screamed at you, by a horny crazy boy, none the less. Perfect.




Stupid freaking head!

At what point last night did I continuously walk into a brick wall?

But that’s another problem.

Last night… what happened?

I can’t remember a thing. Did I really allow myself to drink that much? It’s really not like me; I’m normally the sensible type of girl. The one that’s left sober at parties so she can apparate everyone home.

You know the boring kind of girl.

You see, I blame my sister. The little I can remember is her forcing drinks down my throat. Well, that might not be right after I got a few down, but she was the one that made me start drinking! ‘It’s my practice hen night, so you should do what I want and drink when I say’ the drunk spoiled brat moaned into my ear for about an hour before I was forced to cave in.

What type of person has a practice hen night?! Isn’t one hen night enough for anyone?! Not for my sister, no, everything has to go perfectly so she has to practice everything. Or, which is more probable and what I believe, she wanted to go and get drunk and needed an excuse.

Don’t take this the wrong way and think I don’t love my sister- I do. It’s just that she’s always been the oldest (obviously, you idiot) so she has always the excuse that because she’s the oldest I have to do what she says. There’re only so many times you can use that right? I thought so, but at 23 years old it’s still being used against me.

Anyway back to the actual matter of the fact that I have no memory of anything past 10 o’clock last night.

I’ve never had a strong tolerance for alcohol having never really touched any before. (Well, there was a few times where I touched it way too much and it was severely regretted much puking later.)

But I shouldn’t have gotten so drunk that I’ve forgotten my memory! I only had a few pints… half a dozen shots… and I was taking part in a drinking contest by the time my memory comes up blank.

Who am I kidding?! No wonder I don’t remember a thing! I probably passed out!

Actually that will be why I can’t remember anything, I will have passed out probably after I emptied my stomach over someone’s shoes.

God, I’m hopeless.

Moving onto the next problem- what time is it?

Where’s my clock? It’s always kept on the bedside table to the right of me. But there’s no bedside table…? So maybe I’m still slightly drunk and it’s to the left of me instead. I’ll just roll over and s…


There is not meant to floor here.

I have a very nice king sized bed, bought so I can roll over without falling out onto the carpet.

So my bed’s shrunk, great.

Wait, since when did I have a carpet? I have wood all though my apartment, no carpet, it’s too hard to clean even with magic. I know I’m lazy, no need to tell me.

So my bed has shrunk and the floor has magically changed to carpet. But… I’m still in my bedroom, right?

Nope. I do not have white walls. Well this is all the more reason to kill my sister, I am in someone else’s bedroom and I haven’t got a clue how I got here. At least I still have my own clothes.


I’m naked.

This is not good.

Right. Let’s change that last thought. I am in some guys apartment, probably spent the night with him and haven’t got a clue who he is or how I got here. And to top it off, I have the worst hangover in my life.

My day just keeps on getting better and better.

Let’s get this straight, although I seem ridiculously calm about all this, it has never happened to me before. I just know that if I allow myself to think about this anymore than I have to I’m going to start freaking out and I’m not going to be able to stop.

I haven’t got a clue what I’m meant to do. I’m guessing I had better start trying to find my clothes.

Okay, clothes. I don’t see any clothes. I’m lying on the floor of a decent sized room, so I decided to sit up and have a good look round.

There’s a medium sized bed next to me (not as big as I’m used to) with Chuddly Cannons pillow and cover. Oh God, oh Merlin, oh whoever else is up there. Who on earth did I sleep with?! I’m going to go to Azkaban!

My whole life ruined just because of my sister! All those years I worked my butt off in school will go down the drain!

Everything else in this room matched that of my 11 year olds cousins, band posters covered the white walls, a broom was leaning up against the wall in the corner (a Firebolt 6000, geesh, that’s the best broom out at the moment! This kid has money) and the moving photos on the dresser just above me were of a bunch of people graduating from Hogwarts, moving out of their house…

Wait. Graduating Hogwarts?

So I’m safe! I don’t need to go and find my sister, Sophie, and kill her! Who am I kidding? Of course I’m still going to want to kill her for getting me into this mess to start with.

Now the guy I’ve slept with acts like a child. Great.

Plus the boxers sticking out from under the bed near my head are far too big to be a child’s.

So I’ve found his but where’s my underwear?

I’ll get my wand. Wand? Last I remember I put it in my purse… err… purse?

Looks like I’m going to have to do this muggle style after all.

Where could they possibly be?

Looking around on the floor I could hardly see any clothes, never mind the monstrosity of the underwear my sister shoved in my face last night. Thinking about it this place seems rather too tidy to be a man’s. I swear they’re meant to be messier than us, but it doesn’t just look like he’s tidy either. Everything’s spotless, no dust anywhere. It’s almost like someone comes in regularly and cleans. But then again, looking at the broom, money doesn’t seem like much of a problem so that could actually be possible.

Right that’s everywhere eye level and bellow checked, it’s not likely it’s going to be anywhere higher. I might as well look though seen as I’m definitely not going to go out of this room naked.

It’s on top of his wardrobe.

His wardrobe!

How on earth did it get up there?

…I actually don’t want to know.

Right, dress.

Well that’s definitely not in here so I’m just going to go out of my safety pen and meet the guy.

The guy I can’t remember sleeping with.


He better be good looking.

I know that’s vain of me, but if he isn’t it’s just going be embarrassing! I’m not good at turning people down, I’ve never had any experience. What would I say if he asked me out?

Oh God, what would I say if he asked me out?

I can’t do this, I really can’t do this.

But there’s no other option.

I’m just going to go out there and get my dress and then leave and pretend like this never happened.

Don’t agree to meet up with him, don’t even say anything if you can help it. Just walk in, get changed and go home.

OK, come on courage.

There’s no way the Sorting Hat would have even considered putting me in Gryffindor, I’m far too scared of everything.

Come on Cammie, the faster you do this, the faster you can get home and forget all about this.

I opened the door.

I was greeted with a nice open space with a pretty similar colour scheme to the room I’ve just come out of.

It was all open plan so I could see around the flat.

But here comes the massive flaw in my plan, rather than just one guy there like you’d expect, there were three.


Did I sleep with all of them or something?!

They were all staring at me, eyes wide with shock, like they’d never seen a woman in her underwear before.

Right, what now?

Could I just grab the dress and make a run for it? Run through the streets in just my underwear…

Maybe not.

Give me some credit, my head feels like it’s just about to explode.

How about newly created plan B? The let’s try and hide plan, hide until they all go away and forget about me, then make a run for it. Preferably dressed.

I shut the door as quietly as I could and tried not to have a nervous breakdown.

Well, I managed to do one out of the two. I am now on one of their beds having a nervous breakdown in my underwear. Not really what I planned for this morning. How could I be so stupid? I have never ever woken up not knowing where I am before. Why do I have to start now? I will kill Sophie with my bare hands if I ever get out of here. They’re going to think I’m some sort of whore! Always sleeping around, always having one night stands.

No I am not going to cry. The tears can just go away now. Now. Come on tears, please don’t make me cry. Shaking hysterically is bad enough, I don’t want them to think I’m mental and cart me off to St. Mungo’s.

“Are you alright?” A male voice asked. I slept with an idiot. Does it look like I’m alright to you?! I’m shaking uncontrollably with tears streaming down my face into your pillow, maybe I should just ignore him and he’ll go away, leaving me to cry in peace.

No such luck. I felt the end of the bed sag down under his weight.

“What does it look like?” I mumbled into the pillow. “I have just woken up in your apartment, well, I hope it’s yours, I haven’t got a clue who you are, how I got here or where my clothes are. Plus I’ve got the worst hangover in my life. This never normally happens to me, but you’re going to think I’m some sort of slut along with whoever you’ve got in there. And I’m in the middle of a nervous breakdown. So do I seem alright to you?”

“No…” He stopped awkwardly and just stared at me. “Umm… I don’t think you’re a slut. The idiots in the other room don’t either. Don’t worry. They’re far too busy laughing at me to think anything of you.” He smiled slightly to try and lighten the mood.

It’s not working.

He seems nice enough, he hasn’t laughed at me. Maybe I should take my head out of the bright orange pillow and actually look properly at who’s talking to me. Sat at the end of the bed was a guy with dark messy hair sticking up in all directions, his blue eyes sparkling with a permanent mischievous glint. He was wearing a light blue shirt with jeans. He was hot- very hot. But somehow he looked familiar. I probably recognise him from Hogwarts. If only my head wasn’t killing me, I might be able to think of his name. I sat up desperately trying to make my hair less of a birds nest. He must have been as drunk as me last night, to actually want to sleep with me. I wasn’t attractive, let alone pretty.

“Err... hi? I would normally say nice to meet you, but nice to sleep with you is probably more appropriate.” I was never one for awkward moments, and the ability to come up with really bad jokes at need was a present from my dad. He burst out laughing, he had one of the most sexiest laughs I’ve ever heard. It was one of those that’s contagious, that when you heard it you can’t help but join in. So I did.

“Right, I’m hungry. Let’s go and get something to eat.” He said and I stood up with him even though eating was the last thing my stomach wanted to do. He looked me up and down with a wistful look on his face. “Maybe you should cover up before we go out, I’m sure I’ve got something that’ll fit you.”

I suddenly remembered that I was only wearing the skimpy underwear Sophie had made me put on last night and I became incredibly self-conscious.

I swear I’m not normally this stupid or forgetful, hangovers just really don’t react well with me.

He started rummaging through his draws looking for something to fit me, and banging them shut far louder than necessary. Making me wince.

He turned around and smirked at me. “Is some hangover potion needed as well?”

“I was beginning to think you’d never ask.” I muttered taking the clothes he handed me.

Boxer shorts and a baggy T-shirt. Better than nothing I suppose.

I quickly got changed into them while trying to ignore the fact that he was still staring at me, creepy.

I stretched out, quietly groaning about how much pain it caused and caught the sight of my reflection in the mirror.

I look awful.

I’m not even going to get started on my hair, it would look better if I’d just been electrocuted. My lips were practically twice their usual size they were so swollen and puffy. My body was scattered in bruises explaining the pain, especially on my back where it looked like I’d been pushed into many solid objects last night.

No wonder this bloke kept on looking at me, I looked like I’d just been in a fight.

We made our way out of his room but while walking through the door I realised something.

“I’m sorry I can’t remember your name.” What an idiot am I? I’d just put on this guy’s clothes, and slept with him, but I hadn’t got a clue what his name was.

“Oh sorry I never said. I’m James, James Potter.” No! Not the James Potter?! The hottest guy in Hogwarts, who is now an England Quidditch player?! Not the James Potter who’s face smirks at me almost every day on the cover of my paper? Merlin! I sound like a shrieking fan girl, but how did I not recognise him before? He must have been really drunk to even think of sleeping with someone like me. He won’t have a clue who I am, I was just the Ravenclaw nerd in the year below.

We entered the kitchen now, white on white like everywhere else. But we weren’t alone. The two guys from before had walked over from the couch that they were on, and were now sat on the stools opposite us. The youngest one looked remarkably like James, but his eyes were emerald and encased in glasses. He must be Albus Potter, James’ younger brother. He appeared a couple of times in Witch Weekly but nowhere near as many. He had a girlfriend so not as many fans. Next to him sat what must be Freddie Weasley, darker skin, freckles and the famous Weasley red hair. He too appeared in Witch Weekly being a beater for the Cannons. They’re both staring at me, not blinking at all. This is a terrifying experience if it’s never happened to you.

James started making us both some breakfast after giving me a hangover potion from a cupboard.

I gulped it down, the pain in my head dying down. Sweet relief.

“Can you stop staring?” I asked. Well, that did a load of good. They’re still staring, mouths open in fact, didn’t even blink when I spoke.

“You do know who she is right?” Freddie asked James. Yes I’m me, the head editor of Witch Weekly. He couldn’t know who I was though. Hogwarts was 6 years ago and I’ve made sure that my photo is never in any copy of the magazine, despite my old boss’s numerous jokes that I should be their latest model. Yeah right.

“Umm…” His face is so cute when it’s concentrating. I’m seriously just like a fan girl, this needs to stop now. He turned to face me. “I seem to have forgotten your name too. What is it again?”

Before I could even open my mouth Freddie shouted.

“She’s Cammie Lawrence!”

The look on his face was a picture, completely shocked. The glass of orange juice that was in his hands, hit the floor with a resounding crash. The toast popped up but was completely ignored as well.

“Oh my God!” Albus, why did you feel the need to jump out of your chair like it gave you an electric shock?


“Err… hi?”

“Not the Cammie Lawrence?” James asked. Just completely ignore me then.

“Yes the Cammie Lawrence, how many others do you know?” Freddie replied

“I’m right here guys.”

“Are you really Cammie Lawrence?” James turned to me and asked. What was with my name? It’s not like I’m famous like these guys, I should be the one running round the apartment shouting their names, instead of Al who was literally shrieking my name in various parts of the apartment for the all neighbours to hear.

“YES SHE IS!” Freddie screamed.

“He answered your question perfectly fine the first time.”

“Really?” No, I just fancied lying about my name. I get a kick out of it.

“What’s so hard to believe? I’m telling you my name so why don’t you believe me. Yes I’m called Cammie Lawrence. I’m actually surprised that you guys know who I am.”

“How could we not know who you are? You were the hottest girl in Hogwarts!” God that’s so funny! I mean seriously, me the nerd of the Raven-nerds, hot? Hahaha. There is no way I could be described as hot in anyone’s books. I’m tall, much taller than the average height. I suppose I wouldn’t call myself fat, but I am pretty far from skinny. My hair once a really nice blond, has turned a dishwater blonde colour since the age of 14. I could barely cross the lines of attractive let alone hot. I’ve only had one serious boyfriend, which was at Hogwarts, and it turned out that he only wanted to get into my pants. Calling me hot? He had seriously lost his mind.

“Oww… my stomach!” I somehow managed to choke out between my laughs. “Don’t make me laugh Freddie.” Still laughing, oh dear. My face was going to go bright red any minute now.

“Why are you laughing?” Asked James standing over me on the floor where I was clutching my stomach.

“Because Freddie made a… ha ha… joke.” Why weren’t they laughing? Maybe I should quit now, that’s it. Stand up and sit back down on the stool like nothing happened.

“No I didn’t.”

“Yes you did. You called me hot!” Oh dear. I’m laughing again, while the two guys sat looking at me like I was crazy. (Not three, I could hear Al still running round the apartment somewhere, he’s the crazy one, not me.)

“That’s because you are. No joke.”

I started to laugh again, but I noticed the looks on their faces which soon made me unable to laugh at all. “… You’re serious?”

“Yeah, why would we joke about something like this?”

“Because I’m not hot. Nowhere near hot. You guys are hot. I’m average, even probably below average.” All my confidence went in 3rd year. Everyone started realising that they were growing parts which didn’t exist before and that they were being attracted to the opposite sex rather than repulsed. I was one of the first to start- that was the problem. All the other girls, the popular, non-nerd type all got jealous so started to make fun of me, in front of everyone. I knew they were only saying these things because of the fact that they were jealous, but I am the type of person that takes whatever someone says to heart. When they called me fat, I thought I was. When they called me ugly, I couldn’t look at my own reflection for months. I wore baggy clothes to hide my fatness. I always looked down and didn’t bring attention to myself so no one could look at my ugly face. But the teasing continued taking my confidence away bit by bit, until I barely had the guts to walk into a room.

It wasn’t until 5th year that I began to see someone else when I looked into the mirror. My friends had had enough, my baggy clothes drove them insane. They started forcing me (literally) into tighter fitting ones, I was introduced to the wonderful art of make up again, and my hair was normally down and long. I began looking in mirrors and seeing a girl that wasn’t as ugly as she thought. I wasn’t pretty, attractive or hot. I was just me. I could stand it, and the other girls left me alone.

But I have never been the bubbly, confident person I was when I started my third year.

“If you’re average, I would love to see your definition of hot.” Freddie mumbled to himself.

“You are hot. Every guy at Hogwarts knew you.”

“That’s my point. They don’t remember me as hot, but as ugly.”

“Ugly? Where did you get that from?”

“Igottoldit.” I mumbled to myself, if they didn’t remember me as that I didn’t really want to remind them.

“What? Who told you that?!” He suddenly stopped talking and a look of pain overcame his face. “Oh… Loraine.”

“Yeah, I do believe your then girlfriend was one of the worst.”

“You know that wasn’t the truth right? They only did that because they were jealous.”

“Well they were pretty convincing.”

“You don’t see yourself properly because of them?”

“No I see myself fine, now. Thanks to my friends. But I’m not hot. I’m just me.”

“You don’t see yourself clearly then. You may be you, but a very, very hot you. Every guy at Hogwarts knew you because you were hot.” This was the moment that Al decided to arrive back in the kitchen.

“I can’t believe I’m actually speaking to you! Wait until my friends hear this. Cammie Lawrence woke up in my brothers flat!”

“Al! Key word, brother’s! Stop acting like a bloody hormonal idiot and come and sit down.”

“You just had to ruin my big moment didn’t you? You had to go all big brotherly. At least you did something right by bringing her here.” I couldn’t tell whether he was talking to James or himself at the moment. I could tell what he was staring at though.

“ALBUS SEVERUS POTTER! STOP STARING AT HER LEGS!” Freddie shouted pushing him off the stool. But he stayed on the floor, probably deciding that he had a much better view from down there.

“Get up you idiot.” James snapped. “She woke up in my bed, not yours.”

“You’ve obviously had a pretty good view of them then. ‘Bout time you learned to share James.” I opened my mouth to complain. I was not an object, so shouldn’t be treated like one. “And it’s not like you’re going out or anything.” I snapped it shut. What happened in these circumstances? I looked at James for answers, but he looked away awkwardly. Great.

“So… where do you work now?” Freddie asked desperately trying to change the topic. I wish he’d chosen a different one to start. This was bound to be a good. I work for Witch Weekly the magazine which spreads rumours about you and your family every week. The magazine which makes you seem like complete idiots and digs our nose into places we shouldn’t.



“I’m the err… head editor of… err… Witch… Weekly…” I pulled back into my seat, expecting a rebuff.

There was silence.

In the magazine last week was a story that kind of hinted that Fred Weasley may have gotten his ex-girlfriend pregnant. It’s a complete lie by the way, but no matter how hard I tried to stop my boss forced me into printing it. And if I was him I wouldn’t be that happy with us…

Everyone was looking at me in shock. I’m guessing they still weren’t over the article.

Well, I better apologise then.

“Fred. About that article last week…”

“Yes what about that bloody article? The one that almost gave me a bleeding heart attack?”

“I was…”

“Are you going to apologise for making me a bloody laughing stock with my mates…”


“How about apologising for the fact that my Nana didn’t speak to me for a whole week after, until my family had managed to convince her that it was a bunch of lies?”


“Or the fact that my ex-girlfriend was in fact still my girlfriend, but after reading the article thought she had been dumped,”


“What about the fact that said ex-girlfriend convinced herself that she was in fact pregnant- even though she’s on the wizi-pill- and started blaming me and throwing things there for becoming my ex twice.”


He paused looking confused. “What did you say?”

“I said that I was forced to print it, I knew the trouble it would cause. I didn’t want to put it in the magazine but I had no choice.” There was stunned silence. Well I guess it’s not every day you see a considerate Witch Weekly member.

“So why was it printed then?” Freddie asked.

“My new boss, Rita Skeeter, made me put it in. I did try, honestly, I managed to get rid of the story of Al proposing last week. But this one was out of control.”

Proposing…?” Al squeaked, literally squeaked like a mouse. Everyone still ignored him though.

Rita Skeeter is your boss?” James asked, anger rising in his face. I knew about all the lies she’d spread of his father, Uncle and Aunt in the past. Never mind the things she was printing now about the next generation of Weasley’s and Potter’s. I’m pretty sure she isn’t welcome in that family any more.


“If you don’t like her, why don’t you quit?” I looked at James incredulously.

“Would you quit your job just because you didn’t like your coach?”

“No, but…”

“That’s my point. You don’t quit just because of one person you don’t like.” That isn’t actually true. I don’t like any of my colleges either. They’re all… well bitches to be honest. “If all goes to plan I’ll be out soon anyway.”

“How?” Fred asked.

“Not telling.” I barely know these people, I’m not about to spill out all my dreams and aspirations to them.



We settled into an awkward silence. So I took the opportunity to eat some more of my almost cold breakfast.

“Err… Cammie?” James asked quietly.

I nodded, my mouth still fill with food.

“Would you like to come with me to the family lunch today?” He asked in the same voice.

I choked.

I’d heard about the Potter/Weasley Sunday lunches- Sophie went all the time as she was marrying Louis Weasley.

No one outside of the family went unless in a serious romantic relationship with one of the people. One night stands were definitely not invited.

What did he mean by asking me?!

“Err… would your family like me to be there?” That was the most subtle way I could think of turning him down.

“They’d love you! And I’m sure Rose would really like to catch up.” Freddie butted in. True I hadn’t seen Rose in ages, she was one of my best- non Ravenclaw friends when at school- and was really fun to talk to. I’m surprised he remembered I was friends with her.

“My sister would be there too.”

“Your sister?” All three said at the same time, with the same look of confusion on their faces.

“Yeah she’s marrying your cousin.” They still looked thoroughly confused. “You know, Louis?”

“Sophie?” Al suggested.

“Yeah, Sophie Lawrence soon to be Weasley.”

“Oh, yeah.” Al muttered realising how stupid they had just been. I’ll let them off, it is after all the morning and I haven’t been the best person to speak sense.

“You definitely have to come then.” Freddie ordered.

“Are you sure?” Their family doesn’t know me. I’ve only briefly met Bill and Fleur. So briefly that I don’t even think they’ll remember my name. Add that to the fact I don’t want to go.

“Positive. You’re coming with us, no argument.” Al stated, close to glaring at me.

I don’t really want to argue with him anymore. The bloke’s related to Harry Potter, there are so many ways he could make me come.

So it looks like I have no choice other than to go.

“I need to go home then.” I was not going to turn up in James’s clothes or the dress from last night, that’s for sure.

“Why? It’s only half an hour till we have to go. Can’t you just stay here?” I see that Al was feeling very stupid this morning, or was it more of a permanent condition?

“Al, have you noticed what I’m wearing?”

“Of course I have…oh.”

“Yeah, I’m not too sure that I want to be introduced to your family in your brother’s boxers.”

“Yeah, probably not the best first impression you could have.” Muttered James, I was pretty sure that he was only talking to himself. First impression? Did that mean there was going to be more impressions? No time to worry about that though, I think the boxer situation was more important.

“So if we’ve only got 30 minutes, I’d better be quick. Have you seen my stuff?” I didn’t really want to go home looking like this.

“What you mean this thing?” Asked Freddie holding up my dress, Al and James both choked on their drinks while he merely looked at it in awe.

“Err… Yeah. My sister’s idea.” I mumbled my face probably resembling a tomato. I could see what they meant. My ‘dress’ didn’t exactly look like it could cover anything at all, in fact it didn’t even look like it would fit as a top! James and Al’s reaction were similar to mine when I first saw it.

“God James, you must have been pissing your pants last night.” It wasn’t that bad Fred, was it? James didn’t reply, in fact it didn’t look like he would be speaking for a while so I thought I might as well grab it and go and get changed.

As soon as I shut the door to his bedroom though, he did start to speak and was quickly joined by Al and Fred. Any guesses as to what they were talking about? Me, perhaps? I tried to hair look less like a disaster and I tried to cover up a few of the bruises covering my body. But I didn’t bother trying too hard look presentable, I was going to apparate straight into my apartment to get changed, and they had already seen me in my underwear so it didn’t really matter. I folded his clothes and put them on his bed.

Maybe I should have tried to pull the dress down a little bit though, seeing as it proved a bit of a distraction for the guys if their faces were anything to go by.

“I’ll just be going home then. Where is the lunch?” Come on, at least one of them could pick their jaws off the floor and answer me.

“The… Burrow.” Coughed out James, he still wasn’t looking at my face like the other two had the decency to. Seriously I might change my mind and not come, but I’ve seen the size of their muscles, I was pretty sure that I’d lose epicly if it came to a game of tug of war. “I’ll come with you, if you want, make sure you don’t get lost.”


“You don’t have time to put up a fight, Cammie. We’ve only got 20 minutes.” He stated picking up the rest of my things.

Guess not.

I grabbed his arm and dis-apparated.


I’ve just been through and edited this in the hope that the next chapters will make more sense. I also cut out a part which was going to, but will now have nothing to do with the plot.
If you see any mistakes (grammar/spelling/parts that don’t makes sense) please tell me so I can change it.
I’ll warn you in advance that I’m not the quickest updater but hopefully my worst days are behind me.
I hope you enjoy the rest.
Sarah xx


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