Chapter 1 : Engage!
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One Really "Warped" Prank: Engage!
There are two words that, when paired together and said in a sing-song fashion, make my skin crawl. They make me want to drop whatever it is I'm doing, wherever I am, and strangle the source until his face is blue, and then continue until the face becomes as pale as Nearly Headless Nick.
I normally don't have a problem with these words. A lot of people use the first word nearly every day, either in exasperation, surprise, or discovery. Or simply when one has nothing else to say. The second word I also hear nearly every day, but that should be fairly obvious.
But no, when those two words are paired together and sung by that miserable excuse for existence, I just want to lash out.
James Potter should be thanking me for having so much self-control.
In fact, he should worship the very ground I walk on whenever I don't end his miserable excuse for existence.
Okay, the fact that I know Potter probably does that anyway is beside the point.
Severus groaned as I turned to face Potter. I wanted to tell Severus to just ignore Potter's existence, but I've learned that isn't going to happen. With Potter and his mates harassing Severus whenever he tries to sit at the Gryffindor table and the Slytherins nearly doing the same to me when I try to sit at the Slytherin table, we usually hang out at the base of the moving staircase before we go to class.
I just wished that we had been sitting a little higher on those stairs. They had just started to move two minutes ago, so all Severus and I had to lean against was the railing.
"What do you want now, Potter?" I asked. "We haven't even had our first class of the term yet. And if you haven't noticed, I'm a prefect this year."
Potter, with that smug attitude and inflated ego of his, laughed. That's right, laughed! As if the two of us were friends! When he calmed down, he said, "Oh, don't worry Evans, I noticed what was pinned to your chest."
Once again, I resisted my first instinct. This time, it was to kick Potter in the leg and watch him groan in pain. I just crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes. I hoped to look intimidating, even though Potter was still standing tall and I was on the floor.
"So I take it McGonagall has given you your schedule already," Potter said casually.
"Yes, Professor McGonagall passed them out over breakfast," I said. "Your point?"
"Did you notice that our first class is Defense Against the Dark Arts?"
"No, Potter, I am so blind and so illiterate that I decided not to check the schedule to see where we need to be at nine o'clock. I also did not see that we have a double period with the Slytherins." I smiled at Severus. I loved double classes with the Slytherins.
Well, at least that cocky smile faded from Potter's face. "I choose to ignore that oversight."
"What are you here for anyway, Potter?" Severus asked, speaking up for the first time. "You were not invited to join us."
Potter looked around. "Really, I'm so depressed that I can't join you on the floor, Snivellus. But do you really think it's polite to let such a beautiful maiden such as Evans sit on this dusty, grimy floor?"
Severus looked down. His neck was already starting to turn pink.
"I'm the one who chose to sit on the floor, Potter," I said. I stood up to get a better look at the git. I hated that this year Potter had to be nearly a head taller than me. Last year, the two of us were basically the same height. I could be more intimidating back then. "Until you and your band of troublemakers make room for one more, I'd rather sit on this 'dusty, grimy floor' with whomever I please."
And of course, what do you think that arrogant prat did? That's right, ladies and gentlemen, he smirked! I wished that I knew a spell that would take that big, fat mouth off his disgusting face.
"I just wanted to ask a favor of you, my darling Evans," Potter said. "Just one little favor."
"When Hell freezes over! Get out of here!" I pointed towards the Great Hall, but he could have gone to jump in the Black Lake for all I cared.
"Now Evans, don't be irrational-"
I finally pulled out my wand. A girl can only take so much harassment before she gets desperate. And at least drawing my wand shows even this thick-skulled bloke that I mean business. "Get. Out. Of. Here." I flicked my wand towards the Great Hall twice before aiming once again for Potter's forehead.
"Okay, I'm going, I'm going." Potter backed away and did, in fact, go back into the packed Great Hall.
"Sorry about him," I apologized to Severus, sitting down again. "After four years, you'd think he'd get the idea to leave me alone."
"Don't worry about it," Severus said, though he kept looking down at the floor. "I just wish I could defend you myself."
"And get attacked by him?" I shook my head. "You know Potter would never outright attack me. And I don't want to see my best friend getting hurt because of some nosy git. So, where were we?"
"Comparing schedules, ironically enough," Severus said, passing me back my abandoned parchment. "It's a shame that we only have Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration together."
"At least when we're N.E.W.T. students, we'll be in every class together, right?"
Severus nodded, smiling widely. He always does that whenever I get excited about sharing more classes with him.
"Uh, excuse me? Lily, may I have a word with you?"
For the second time in ten minutes, Severus and I looked up at the person who decided to interrupt us. But while Severus groaned and glared, I smiled and patted the stone floor beside me. "Remus, of course." Remus has always been polite to everyone he encounters, including Severus. I just wish that Severus would be appreciative of Remus's polite mannerism.
Remus knelt by my side. He, like me, wore his new prefect badge proudly on his robes. "There's something I'd like to ask you," he said.
"Wow, Lily, looks like you're very popular this morning," Severus said sarcastically.
"I caught that too, Sev," I said, now frowning at Remus. "Does this have anything to do with Potter's request? Because if it is, the answer's still no."
"Actually," Remus said slowly, "I was just wondering if you'd like to do something to guarantee that James, Sirius, Peter, and possibly myself receive a few days minimum, a few weeks maximum of detention. You won't have to do anything except one tiny little thing, then you will get to watch the show unfold."
I looked at Severus. He shrugged. I looked back to Remus. It was very unusual for Remus to announce that he expected detention and encourage someone to help make it happen. Remus usually sat in the corner of the room and let his friends get in trouble.
"What about you being a prefect?" I asked him. "You're supposed to uphold the school rules."
Remus shrugged. "I sort of agreed to let the others have one last prank, and then I will put my foot down, so to speak."
"Good for you! So, what is it that you need me to do?"
"Just deliver this to our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor before class." Remus pulled out a package covered in brown paper from his book bag. "Tell him that it's important that he puts it on straight away, then take your seat."
"What is it?" I asked, taking the package. It wasn't overly big, and it certainly didn't weigh as much as I expected.
"You're free to look at it if you want, but make sure to deliver it to him wrapped." Remus scratched his left ear. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get 'into costume.' I'll see you in class."
As Remus went back to the Great Hall, I looked to Severus.
Severus shrugged. "I'm fine watching those four getting themselves in trouble. But let's make sure this isn't something we can get in trouble for."
Unwrapping the package, something bright red fell onto my lap. Severus reached over to pick it up. "It's a shirt," he said, frowning at the fabric. "Why would Lupin or Potter want you to give a red shirt to the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?"
But I saw something Severus didn't see. He was looking at the back of the shirt. On the front, there was a small symbol on the upper left side. A gold object that looked to be a five-pointed star but was missing two of its arms on either side. Inside the insignia was a small spiral. It looked like a sloppy lower case ‘e.’ And then the request and Severus's question made sense to me.
The new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor looked down at me through his thick glasses, which made his eyes seem to magnify behind the square wire frames. "Uh, yes?" he asked. "Miss-?"
"Evans, sir. Lily Evans." I paused to take a look at his robes. He wore dark red robes, which went well with his dark brown hair. I then looked back up into his brown eyes. "Sir, might I ask what you're wearing?"
"Huh?" Professor Wilson looked down at his robes. He saw the same thing I saw, which was similar to what the other professors wore. "Uh, my robes?"
Merlin's beard, this new professor sounds unsure of what he's wearing? He certainly won't last the year, especially when Potter and his friends finish with him.
I put on a smile. "I see you're in your robes, sir, but you're missing something. Wait a second." I searched my bag, pulling out the package Remus gave me twenty minutes ago. "Look, it's important that you put this on straight away."
"What is this?" Professor Wilson took the rewrapped package, opened it, and looked down in confusion at the red shirt. Even when he saw the insignia on the upper left corner of the shirt, the meaning behind it didn't register with him. "Why-?"
"It's just really important that you wear this," I said. I looked back to the door. I could hear our classmates making their way to class. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
Severus was the first student into the room, right after me. He looked from Professor Wilson, down to the shirt, back up to the professor's face, shook his head, and took a seat next to me. "Think he'll put it on?" he whispered, barely moving his lips to speak.
I tried not to grin as other students entered the room, all of them giving our new professor and his red shirt curious glances before taking their seats.
"I don't know how convincing I was, but he's starting to look worried as more of us show up."
It took a lot of self-control not to laugh as Mary Macdonald stopped in front of the professor's desk, dropped her jaw in shock, and scurried to her seat right behind mine. "Lily, he's not wearing the shirt!" she said in a stage whisper. Professor Wilson paled a bit as he heard her.
"I tried to warn him," I whispered loudly, turning around to face her. I just couldn't hold back a grin anymore, but I didn't want Professor Wilson to know that. Softer, "So, what did Potter say to you?"
"It was Black, actually," Mary admitted. She placed her hand in front of her face to hide the smile. Too bad she couldn't hide the blush. "And he said if I made a big deal about some red shirt, their 'idea' would be a lot more amusing to watch."
"Knowing those four?" I shook my head. "They just love getting into trouble, don't they?"
Finally, every Slytherin student and all the Gryffindor girls were in the classroom. Some of my roommates were pointing at the newest professor and whispering softly. After a few seconds, even the Slytherin students were whispering amongst themselves.
"Uh, class, settle down," Professor Wilson said. The red shirt remained clutched in his hand, to which Mary pointed, squealed in terror, and put her head in her arms. Professor Wilson might have interpreted her shaking torso as sobs, but I knew Mary was just trying not to laugh her head off from the shocked expression on his face.
"Uh, let's see here. Class list, class list." Professor Wilson still clutched the shirt as he searched for some papers. "Uh, are we missing anyone?"
The door in the back of the room banged open.
I didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or start firing curses. Well, this was Defense Against the Dark Arts, so curses would be acceptable.
"You dare start the class without me?" Potter strode into the room. It wasn't just the way he walked, but his wardrobe that made the class silent (Mary took one look at him and buried her head again). Potter straightened his yellow shirt over his black trousers as he walked to the front of the class, his black boots clicking on the stone floor with every step. "You there!" He pointed at Professor Wilson. "You're out of uniform!"
My jaw dropped as Professor Wilson actually scrambled into the red shirt. His robes created several unflattering folds beneath the material, although the sleeves made him look stronger than before.
"Who, who are you?" Professor Wilson asked.
"Me?" Potter grinned. "I'm Captain James T. Potter. Captain of The Marauders."
Severus and I looked at one another. Marauders? Where did that name come from? But Severus shrugged and turned his attention back to the front of the room.
Potter looked around. "Speaking of which, where's my bridge crew? Crew! Get in here by order of your captain!"
The entire class looked back to the open door. First came Peter Pettigrew. Short, a bit chubby, and wearing a similar red shirt as Professor Wilson, he was pulling on the blue-sleeved arm of Remus Lupin. "I'm making him come in as fast as I can, Captain!" Peter called in a terrible Scottish accent.
"This isn't logical," Remus said to someone behind him. His own black boots did not provide him enough traction against the floor. "None of this is logical! Let go of me, Sirius!"
Finally, Sirius Black showed up behind Remus, pushing him from the back. He too wore a blue shirt and had the same black pants and boots as Potter and the others. "This is the only way to get you into class. Really, I didn't know vampires could yell."
"I'm supposedly a half- wait, I'm supposed to be a Vulcan, not a vampire."
"I'm a doctor, not a xenobiologist," Sirius said. "I can't tell you different species apart!" Sirius gave a final shove, which propelled Remus forward, who ran over Peter, and the two landed on the floor before Potter and Professor Wilson.
"I think I'll have to send at least one of them back to the academy," Potter admitted, ruffling his hair in embarrassment.
"Dr. Sirius Black, reporting for duty!" Sirius said. "But I think I need a new nickname. 'Bones' isn't cutting it for me. And I couldn't nick any Skele-Grow from the Hospital Wing either."
Potter rolled his eyes. "I'll think of a new nickname once you get the rest of the crew off the deck."
"Excuse me!" Professor Wilson yelled. "What are you four doing?!"
Potter snapped back to face the new teacher. "Us? What do you think you're doing? Greeting us out of uniform? Had Admiral Dumbledore not told you the specifics of the Defense Against the Dark Arts dress code?" Potter shook his head sadly. "This simply will not do. Now, sir, give me your name, rank, and Gringotts vault number."
Professor Wilson looked to the rest of the class. But seeing us just silently staring up at him (except Mary, who was still trembling in laughter), he gulped before saying, "Uh, Cliff Wilson, Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, and 1083."
"Excellent." Potter turned to Remus. "Did you jot that down?"
Remus, just back on his feet, scratched his now-pointy ears. "Not that hard to remember."
"Not that hard to remember, Captain," Potter corrected his mate. "Ah, yes, that superior vampire mind of yours. You can remember a lot within that green-blooded head."
"Vulcan, not vampire," Remus muttered.
"Semantics." Potter turned back to Professor Wilson. "Sir, I think there are a few things you need to know before you fully join us at Hogwarts Command."
"I thought this was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
"First thing, don't interrupt your captain!" Potter shouted.
Professor Wilson nodded, ever so slightly.
"Now then, where was I?" Potter wondered. "Petey, where was I?"
Peter took a small notepad from his pocket. "According to records, you were just starting to tell the red shirt his role within the next year. The lecture should take about an hour, but I think you can get it done in fifteen minutes. Ten if you talk really fast."
"Thank you for the report, Petey." Potter turned to Professor Wilson. "So, as Admiral Dumbledore has already informed you, you are to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. While you're with us, you will have to know hundreds of students, give them homework, grade said homework, and prepare the fifth years for O.W.L.s and seventh years for N.E.W.T.s. With me so far?"
Professor Wilson nodded. "Yes, that's what Profess- er- Admiral Dumbledore told me a few weeks ago when I got the job."
Potter nodded. "But what he might not have told you is that the hours will be long and hard. You will put up with difficult students that want to see you fail. Miserably."
"And," Potter went on, slowing his voice for dramatic effect, "you will test your skills as a wizard far greater than you anticipated. You will wear yourself out. By the end of the school year, if not sooner, you will find yourself face-to-face with an important decision, although you might not make the wisest choice. Your fate, by putting on the uniform of Defense Against the Dark Arts, is doomed. You will leave after this academic year and most likely not return. You may require a stint in St. Mungo's for magical or medical injuries, which might take months out of your life that could be better spent doing something else. Or, if you're very unlucky, the boggart you show to your third year students will take on your greatest fear of being eaten alive by a gigantic cockroach and you will leave, destined to spend the rest of time in a wooden box buried in some distant cemetery." Potter put his hand onto Professor Wilson's shoulder. "Is this a career path that you wish to face?"
Professor Wilson was visibly trembling. He was pale, paler than any other living person I’ve ever met. He slowly started shaking his head back and forth. "No, no, no . . ." he said.
"Oh, it always happens this way," Sirius said. "By putting on that red shirt, you condemn yourself to an expendable life. That's the way it is."
"NO!" Professor Wilson shook off Potter's hand and ran for the door, nearly tripped over Peter, and headed straight down the hall.
"By the looks of his trajectory," Remus commented dryly, "he seems to be heading for the exit."
"That's a new record for us," Potter said triumphantly, turning to talk to the class now. It was amazing on how wide his grin was. "So, thank you everyone for being part of the shortest teaching career here at Hogwarts! He's gone just twenty-three minutes into the class period!"
The Gryffindor girls all clapped, cheered, and/or laughed. The Slytherins tried to sneer, but they couldn't hide their grins as our fifth Defense Against the Dark Arts professor in as many years left after just one encounter with this group of blokes.
"This is so epic," Mary laughed, leaning forward to talk to me. "I don't understand where Potter was getting half of his stuff, but it was fun watching Wilson's reactions."
"You're not smiling, Lily," Severus said, meeting my gaze.
"They are in so much trouble," I groaned.
"Isn't that a good thing?" Severus asked, grinning wider than ever.
It might have taken Professor Wilson twenty-three minutes to crack, but it took only four minutes to arrive back with none other than Professor Dumbledore.
"Breathe, Cliff, breathe," Professor Dumbledore encouraged Professor Wilson. "Nothing bad will happen to you." Professor Dumbledore turned to address the class. He smiled at all of us, who had gone silent at the sight of the headmaster. “I just heard an intriguing story from your new professor just now, and I must say I am surprised. I believe it would be in everyone’s best interest if I cancel the rest of today’s Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. Those students that I call will come with me. The rest of you?” Professor Dumbledore smiled. “You may enjoy a few more minutes of freedom before proceeding to your second class."
"It was them," Professor Wilson said, pointing to the idiots still standing in the front of the classroom. "Those four."
Professor Dumbledore nodded. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, Mr. Lupin, Mr. Pettigrew, if you would come with us please. The rest of you are dismissed."
But just as I gathered my books and was about to head out of the classroom, Professor Wilson pointed to me. "Her too! She gave me this shirt! She must have been in on it as well!"
My jaw dropped. As Severus left me by Professor Dumbledore's coaxing, I turned to look back at Potter. Merlin, if I could only use Avada Kedavra with my eyes alone.
Twenty minutes later, the five of us stood in a line as Professor Wilson explained, with a slightly mad expression on his face, every detail that went on in class this morning. For being a fully qualified wizard who succumbed to these boys' mind games, Professor Wilson still had an excellent memory for detail.
"So, enjoy the show?" Potter whispered under his breath.
I wished for the millionth time that I didn't have to stand next to Potter for all this. "You should be ashamed of yourselves," I whispered back. "Honestly, harassing a teacher like that? Despicable."
"Really? Mary couldn't even watch she was laughing so much."
"She laughs whenever I say the color 'blue.' But where in your twisted mind did you ever get an idea to do something like this?"
"Yes," Professor Dumbledore said loudly, causing me to jump, "where indeed did this decision come from?"
I then realized that everyone was looking at Potter and me. I straightened myself up as if I'd never had a side conversation with that prat before looking hard at said prat. A moment later, I felt Professor Dumbledore and Professor Wilson's eyes also leave me as they too looked to Potter.
"I wasn't the mastermind of this prank," Potter said, holding up his hands, palms open. He looked to his left, at Sirius.
"Not me either," Sirius said, looking over to Remus.
"I didn't even want to do this," Remus said.
So all six of us looked down at little Peter.
"Pettigrew?" I gasped. "But- but you're always following these fools."
"Mr. Pettigrew," Professor Dumbledore said calmly, "please enlighten us. What prompted this, imaginative prank?"
Peter gulped, trying to look all of us in the eye at once. "Well, um, er-" He pulled at the collar of his red shirt.
"Only a sick, twisted, evil little mind could have come up with something so ludicrous, so outrageous, so-" Professor Wilson exclaimed.
"Calm yourself, Cliff," Professor Dumbledore said, halting the new professor's rant. "Give the lad a chance to explain himself." Professor Dumbledore nodded to Peter. "Please, Mr. Pettigrew, whenever you're ready."
Peter took another gulp. "Uh, I saw all this on television."
"Another devious lie, talking about things that don't exist," Professor Wilson yelled out. "This 'television' must be the pure root of all evil-!"
"Cliff!" Professor Dumbledore called. "A 'television' is a Muggle entertainment device. Go on, Mr. Pettigrew."
Peter took yet another visible gulp. "Well, uh, you see, part of my summer homework was to watch television. For Muggle studies, that is! And, well, you can watch different things at once, and while I was learning how to work the new television my mum got for the summer for me, uh, well, I did something to the television and saw this incredible program." Peter pulled at the collar of his uniform. "It was called Starch Wreck and it took place in space, and these people would go about exploring for new pretty girls while their space ship was always breaking down."
My jaw continued to drop the longer Peter spoke. And he wasn't done yet.
"And, well, I noticed a theme that happened in nearly every program. And it was on a lot because they said they were having a Starch Wreck marathon. Whenever they needed, uh, dramatic effect on how deadly a planet was, one of the crew would buy it. And I started keeping track, you know, for the essay on television that I had to write, and practically all of the episodes killed someone in a red shirt. I think it was all of them, the episodes I mean, but sometimes I had to leave so I could eat or use the loo. Mum didn't want me eating while watching the television because she thought it might be bad for digestion."
Sirius groaned. "Got on with it, Peter."
Peter's eyes widened as his speech became faster. "I thought the red shirts dying in every episode was like the pattern of Defense Against the Dark Arts professors who always leave at the end of the year and thought it would be appropriate for the Defense Against the Dark Arts professors to wear red shirts so everyone would know not to get too attached because they would leave at the end of the year like the red shirts in the show never make it to the end of an episode!" Peter doubled over, clutching his chest as he tried to regain the air from that last explanation.
"So you see," Potter said, "you can't really blame us for what just happened. All the other teachers know we like having a bit of fun. And if you really need to blame all this on someone, blame television!"
Professor Dumbledore seemed to consider this explanation. He leaned back in his chair, clapped his hands together, and stared up at the ceiling.
Professor Wilson, however, was a different story. "Are you insane?!" he yelled at Peter, whose complexion turned from blue to white. "If what you're saying is true, then why are you wearing a red shirt like the girl just gave to me? Hm?"
Peter's jaw dropped as he pulled at the collar of the shirt in question. "Well, uh, I was pretending to be one of the characters on the show. He was an engineer, and he always wore red. Just like the captain wore gold like James is, the doctor wore blue like Sirius, and the vampire also wore blue like Remus-"
"THAT'S IT! I'VE HAD IT!" I screamed. I couldn't take this anymore.
Professor Dumbledore looked down from the ceiling. "Miss Evans? Is there something you'd like to share with us?"
"Yes!" I said, stepping forward. "I'm sorry, but Pettigrew has totally distorted the show beyond anything that Gene Roddenberry created! For starters, the show is Star Trek, not Starch Wreck. Think about it- they journey through space, or they're going through a trek across the stars! Duh!"
"Uh, Evans," Potter asked cautiously, "you know-"
"Shut up, Potter! Next, Remus was supposed to portray the science officer, who's a Vulcan, not a vampire!"
"I told them it was Vulcan," Peter said, "but Sirius kept insisting they must have meant an alien vampire."
"Their mission was not to go looking for pretty girls either," I continued. "They were looking for new life, new worlds of people! Although the captain on Star Trek and Potter here both share more than just a first name." I turned to Potter. "And what does the 'T' stand for? You said you were 'Captain James T. Potter,' did you not?"
Potter looked to Peter, but Peter only shrugged. Looking back down at me, Potter said, "Uh, Thomas?"
"Tiberius, genius!" I said.
Sirius snickered. "That's a stupid name."
"Gee, and 'Sirius' and 'Remus' are normal-sounding names?" Remus asked dryly.
"And finally," I said, "red shirts were also associated with both engineering and security! Those red shirts were supposed to protect the main crew from attack! So it would make sense for some nameless red shirt security officer to beam down to the alien planet and be the first to die before the crew realizes they're in danger. So by Pettigrew wearing a red shirt, it doesn't mean that he won't last the year either!" I shook my head. "Trekkies all over the world would be appalled about what just happened here."
The Headmaster's office went silent as six pairs of eyes (nine if you count Potter, Professor Dumbledore, and Professor Wilson twice) gazed at me.
"And how," Professor Wilson asked, "do you know all this?"
I rolled my eyes. Not at disrespect for a teacher, but for how anyone who heard my rant could not get it. "I've watched Star Trek too. I'm Muggle-born, and I've grown up with a television. And while my sister hates the show, I never missed an episode."
Now I turned to Professor Dumbledore. "Sir, I had no idea these boys would use a Muggle television show to prank a new teacher. And if I did, don't you think I would have had them get their facts straight? Or better yet, tell them off before they broke the rules in the first place?"
I remained focused on Professor Dumbledore's blue eyes for a moment. Then, very slowly, he nodded once. "I do not think Miss Evans had an active role in this event. Therefore, I see no reason to keep her much longer." He looked up to a clock over his office door. "Miss Evans, I believe you have seven minutes to reach your next class without being late. You may go."
"Thank you, Professor." I turned and walked quickly to the door. I didn't want to take the risk of Professor Wilson calling me back for another outrageous claim.
I found Severus waiting by the stone gargoyle as I descended the stairs. "So," he said, "get into trouble?"
I shook my head. "Pettigrew thought the show was called Starch Wreck."
Severus winced as we proceeded to Transfiguration. "Ouch. Didn't he watch the opening theme song? That title takes over the entire television screen."
I shrugged. "And here I though you and I were the only wizard and witch to enjoy that Star Trek marathon over the summer."
A/N: If you're still confused about some of the references made here, or want to correct this Trekkie about some of the things I said, let me know! Or you can just let me know how the story in general turned out. It would be greatly appreciated!
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