Ok, this thread is for my fanfics that are in works.
My fandoms include:
+Harry Potter
+Final Fantasy 7
+Neverwinter Nights/2
+InuYasha
+Kingdom Hearts
+Forgotten Realms
+Dungeons and Dragons
+Lord of the Rings
+Sailor Moon

What I write about most often:
Neverwinter Nights 1 & 2, FF7, and Harry Potter.

~*~

Contents:
Red Fallow's Watch Chapter 1 (or Prolouge)- A NWN2 fanfic. PG-13 rating
Make Love to You- NWN2 fanfic. PG-13 rating. R in some chapters (maybe)
Second Chances- PG rating, maybe higher later. Harry Potter Fanfic

~*~
Disclaimer:
I own nothing but the plot, I make no money off of these, so don't sue me! I'm poor!

"Did you hear what happened at to the Captain of Crossroad's Keep?" I could overhear a simpleton peasant asking another.

It had been over a year since I had last seen her face, since the battle with the King of Shadows. I had left her there to fight Garius and the "Guardian". She had gone missing afterwards, gone into some far away land or something like that. Not that I cared. She wasn't my problem anymore. Even so, I couldn't help but listen, I couldn't ignore it.

"Yes, she's finally come back to Neverwinter, with new companions from Rashemen."

I sneered, of course she's back, all in one piece. Nothing ever effected her. Nothing ever would. I sighed, I had to admit, however, that was what I found attractive about her. She had nearly died and had been unaffected my first encounter with her, and not because she kept it in, she simply... let it all pass her by.

"Not only that, but she's searching for her betrayer."

I nearly spit out my ale at that comment. She was searching for me, and as much as I would love to see her, I knew I would have to find myself out of her way until she believed I was dead, or gone. She no doubt wanted to kill me. It is what I would have done. I had left her right before she had gone off to face the Shadow King, not only that, but I had joined him.

~unfinished~

Adalia frowned and looked down at the child in her arms, she wondered if she should have left the child with Casavir. After a moment, she shook her head, she knew Idella wanted to find her father as much as she herself did. She wasn't about to take that away from her. It was dangerous, bringing her child along with her, especially since she had no idea where to begin on her hunt, and that's what it was. A hunt. It was the same as when she had first caught him, the uncertainty. Except this time she could not see him, she did not know where he was, since she had defeated Lord Garius she had not seen him. She did not even know what she would say when she found him. What she would tell him. She doubted that he would be a father to her daughter, aside from the blood sense. She had known that he was not one to settle down when she had first laid eyes on him, when she had first laid with him. That was what attracted her to him. And now... Now it seemed to her a folly. She would have been wise to have picked Casavir, or even Bevil, anyone but the ranger who could not bear her attentions, who could not bear his own.

With a wistful sigh she pulled her own hood tighter around her face; Not to shield her from the rain. It was only a light drizzle and in any other circumstances she would have danced in such a rain. It was avoid being identified as the Hero of Neverwinter, something that would only hinder her in this quest. Today she had other things to do and couldn't be bothered with such a thing. Today, she needed to find someone who might be able to tell her more. A small flame appeared in the distance and Adalia quickened her pace. It was small in the distance and those untrained wouldn't have found it, but she had been raised by a ranger and knew how to recognize such a thing. Considering the location and how nearly unnoticeable it was, she knew exactly who had built that fire. Panting slightly she came upon the small fire and it's owner. The man there stood instantly, bow in hand, ready to shoot her. It was a dangerous area, after all. He relaxed however as she lowered her hood and he motioned for her to sit, returning his bow to it's spot next to his seat.

She smiled at the elven man and sat down on a near the fire, whispering to her child to wake up. The child stirred after a moment and then opened her eyes, tiredly, yawning widely and looking around curiously. As soon as her eyes landed on the elf she jumped up and ran over to him, embracing him with her small arms around his waist. He paused for a long moment, looking between mother and child, unsure of what to do, before picking the girl up into an embrace. A whole hearted laugh came from the mother at the child's squeals and giggles.

"I see you've gotten more affectionate in your old age, father." Adalia greeted as he set the child down. He glanced at her and she laughed again.

He was not her birth father, but they both knew that he was the only father she had ever known. The only family she had known for most of her life, until the wretched shard lodged in her chest made itself known. She absently touched the spot where the shard was lodged, staring into the fire and remembering, sadly, the event that had started it all and had led he to meeting the father of her child. She shook her head as she noticed her father had said something. She looked at him and waited for him to repeat himself. He sighed and sat down next to her this time.

"What brings you here, child?" He asked in his usual flat voice that hinted concern.

She rarely came to visit him without Casavir with her. This was, in fact, the first time. She glanced at her daughter, who was falling asleep again. She smiled sadly to herself before gazing at her father. There was a silence that stretched out between them. He had known all along that the child was not of Casavir's blood. He had taken one look at Idella and known and said nothing, asked nothing. He had simply given her a look the day she had returned that told her all she needed to know.

"I need your help finding him." She said, simply.

It was all that she needed to say. He stared at her for a moment longer before nodding, understanding. They would be leaving in the morning, he would not advice or criticize her decision. He stood and wandered off. She knew it was to find some clue as to where they needed to head off to. No one in the area had really heard much of him in the past five years. If there was any chance of finding him, however, it was in Daeghun, because he was a ranger as well,. She sighed heavily and laid down next to her child, wrapping her arms around her protectively and listening carefully for any noises, it was not the most dangerous, but with her child there, she needed to be extra careful. She drifted off to the sounds of the forest and her child's breathing.

"I can't get attached to anyone or anything, not even a feeling."
The words rang through her head, too true to deny, to far gone to forget. The night he had told her of his betrayal, when he had explained why. His explanation had hurt more than the betrayal had. It was one thing if he wanted to be on the winning side, it was another to tell her that he couldn't... wouldn't be with her. She had not tried to keep him, she knew that he wasn't one for staying, and neither had she. It wasn't until the night after the battle with the Shadow King, when she had awoken on the Shadow plane had she realized how serious he had been, and all she had done then was cry.

She had wanted nothing more than to lie there in her own self pity, but it had been Casavir who had encouraged her, who had tried to make her whole again. She had closed herself off, she had chosen to remain as broken as she was. She had chosen to not move on. She had never been quite right Her strong front had been just that, just a front. It had taken his betrayal for her to realize it, though she had not ended it when he had left. No, it had gotten worse. She had wooed the handsome Paladin and led him to believe she had conceived his child. A child with eyes of amber like her true father.

The Paladin had believed because he had wanted to believe. She gave no hint to her lie, not once. She fooled few, however, as the child truly took after her father- in less malicious ways. They had only been a year past the perils they had faced in the other Realms. Only a year, and the paladin's suspicion, with no danger to distract him, grew. The truth was no longer able to hide, and he bared with the lie for a time, treating the child as his own, unable to put into words the truth he knew in his heart. Until he could no longer take it. He had resigned in his heart and told the child the truth, even though it had hurt.

His truth, what she had tried to hide from herself and everyone, had sent them on the quest they were on now. She had gone to her father to find her old lover and confront that which she had lost- in herself and in her life. It had not been his absence that had so unsettled her, or his betrayal, but her own deceit; which had only ever been upon herself, had unnerved her, had unsettled her so that as soon as she was not relied upon, she failed. It was this truth she hoped to right, hoped to fix. She had only brought her daughter because she could not leave the child with Casavir. She needed to be away from those lies, and to do such, she needed to get away from those she had lied to.

She had known she could not take the child with her trekking around all of Faerun just to find a man whom she didn't even know still lived. Which is how she had found herself at the Sunken Flagon in Neverwinter. She was leaving her child in the care of her uncle, the man who perhaps knew the child's father the best. She stood before the half-elven man and looked at him warily.

"Duncan, I understand that you don't want me to pursue Bishop, but I must. If nothing else, I must tell him that he has a child." She told him, simply. He merely shook his head before replying.

"Lass, you yourself must know, he won't care, even if you do find him."

Daeghun, had come with her, of course, as he had told her that he would not start tracking then man until the child was safely tucked away somewhere. His reasoning was perfectly sound and she understood and agreed with it fully. Her father, or, foster father, rather, did not fully approve, but was willing to help her. He could see the pain all of it had caused her. Duncan, on the other hand, was less willing.

"I understand that, Duncan, but..." She paused for a moment, unsure of what to say, "I fear if I do not tell him my conscious will never be clear and I will never be free of him."

That was the gist of it, really. Her search for Bishop, and her guilt and distance and even her longing, on occasions, for him, was not caused by her truly being so devastated by his betrayal and absence- she had been betrayed by men before- but it was their child. He had left her when she had been with child, though neither had known. That child that reminded her so much of the ranger. The striking amber eyes that were exactly like his, gleaming at her with much the same way his would, reminding her that she had lied. She had laid with Casavir simply so he wouldn't know, so that she wouldn't have to feel the shame of making the mistake to sleep with a man who had held no care for her.

She still did not know why she felt so stongly about the situation, she had never cared before him, which was perhaps actually why it affected her so much. She had actually cared for him and he had cared for him. While he had not directly said so- she had known so- after all, he had left exactly for that reason. It was that he cared that had struck her. It made her feel weak, really.

Bishop looked in the mirror at himself and scowled. He looked just like his idiot father. He had always despised the man and now, he had practically become him. Except that he hadn't knocked some woman up and beaten their children. It's not like he had had anyone to stop his father, and that had been the problem.
Some fool trying to help him once had said that he pushed others away because he had never felt loved or some such rubbish.

Ginerva had never experienced anything like she had in the two days it took to travel to London. She had been forced, every night, to find a place to sleep somewhere, avoiding other homeless people. t had rained their first night and they had barely managed to get some form of shelter for the night. It had been meager, some back alley that no one was in because of the rain. The two of them had huddled under the roof of a nearby building. They had nothing to do but talk, and talk they did. She was nervous about what to ask, but the girl, who called herself her sister, didn't think it was odd at all.
She had told her she wasn't surprised that she didn't remember much, the shock of what had happened would be enough to make anyone want to forget. Their father and mother had been killed. Ginerva, her 'sister' told her, had witnessed the entire thing from her hiding spot. She didn't remember the death of these parents that were supposed to be hers, but she did remember her real parents dying. She hadn't watched them die then, but she had been the one to find them. Her sister called herself Lilith. The name was familiar to the redhead, but she couldn't put her finger on how.
She had given up on figuring it out after the second night. Now they found themselves in front of the familiar pub; The Leaky Cauldron. She was grateful to finally be somewhere familiar to her. She hated not knowing where she was or when she was going to be able to eat anything, and even though the time was different, the Leaky Cauldron was the same. Exactly the same, and that was comforting.

She looked at the other girl, Lilith, nervously, wondering if she knew what they were going to do about everything. She merely smiled at her as she opened the door, holding it open, waiting for her to open. Tentatively, she entered. She had not felt so shy in a long time. Not since she had first gone to Hogwarts, if she was going to be honest with herself. It was good to know, however, that she was not alone. She was glad for the vaguely familiar girl next to her as she looked around the pub, making sure everything was the same. To make sure it was real.

She glanced at the her sister, who was casually walking through the pub, walking up to the the bar keep casually, dragging both trunks behind her, not even flinching at the weight of them, because, truthfully, there was very little in them. Ginny could not hear the two of them talk, and by the time she had gotten close enough to hear anything, they had stopped talking and Lilith was making her way towards the stairs, glancing back to make sure her younger sibling was following. She followed obligingly and was led to a small room where they deposited their trunks and shut the door. It was threadbare, there were only two small cots, though it was obvious that they were magically enchanted to be more comfortable than it looked.

It was one thing that was assured during this time of war. Grindelwald was the main worry among the Wizarding kind, with similar techniques to the muggle Nazis, he was one to be feared, as her sister had told her on their journey to London. They sat down and talked for a bit, going over the lists they had apparently received not long before their parents were killed. Lilith assured her younger sister that she would take care of getting the books, and that Ginevra should relax while she got them. Got some rest and ate a little bit. She nodded distractedly, trying to remember something about the girl that seemed a bit distant now, but shrugged it off and lay down, falling asleep quickly.

~*~

It wasn't until much later that Ginevra found herself packing her things, getting ready to go to Platform 9 3/4, with her sister, Lilith. She had been told all about what was going on, what had happened to land them homeless and their family. Ginevra, forever a Weasley, found it odd to be called by anything else. She had once fantasized about being called Ginny Potter, but no more. Now she was Ginevra Persephone Roderick, and her sister was called Lilith.

I meant to write this ages ago. It's the companion piece to my other NWN2 story: Smile. It's called Duty.
---

I have a duty. To you, to Tyr, to Neverwinter and to the people. I failed my duty to Neverwinter, and yet you still accepted me. As if, in the end, I really had done the right thing, regardless of the law. You made me see that while I still have a duty to Neverwinter, my duty is more to it's people. That I would be serving nothing if there were not people to protect. It still baffles me at times and yet, it seems you are right. After much prayer, I have found that Tyr is not mad at me for my actions.

My duty to you, however, is perhaps the most... confusing. I want to protect you. More than a servant of Tyr should for someone as chaotic as you are. Your sense of justice is not set in stone as it should be, but set more by the circumstances. I should not have these feelings for you that I do. These thoughts that are almost immoral. Yet they never cross that line, and for that I am glad.

~Unfinished~

There was blood everywhere. On the walls, on the furniture, on the floor, even on the hands of one of the girls standing in the room. The other was spotless, her feet weren't even covered in blood. They were the only ones in entire building that were still alive. The small blond haired girl was looking about nervously, holding onto the shirt of the black haired girl, her hands still clean. It bore a striking picture. The dark haired child was covered in blood, her eyes full of hatred as she scanned the room, while the other's eyes were full of love as she gazed at her sister.

That was when he finally emerged out of the other room, the screaming and crying having ended some time ago. He grinned evilly at the two young girls, his face full of hatred and twisted pleasure. He had already had his way with the other children in the foster home. Raped them before killing them, all in horrific and terrible ways. Little did he know that he was up against something he had not expected this time. The young girls, barely twelve, had not shown fear of him like the others had. The smaller one had gained her courage from her sibling, while she had none.

The man stalked forward, his brown hair speckled with dried blood in it. He stood barely an arm's length from the twins when it happened. One moment, the room was calm and still, the next it erupted into chaos. Th entire room grew intensely dark, so much that nothing could be seen. None of them made a noise. The dark faded after a bit to reveal the killer being held by what looked like a man's shadow come to life. The blond girl was standing where she was, her face worried, watching her sister, who was standing in front of the predator, her eyes completely dark and begun lifting her hand before there was a noise. Yelling. Sirens. She stepped back, keeping her eyes on the man and returning to her sister's side.

Just as the door opened the shadow incarnate disappeared, and the girl's eyes went from black as night to their original violet color. The police who entered quickly went towards the man, who was now staring at her with hatred and some measure of fear. He was handcuffed and taken past the girls out of the house. The dark girl pulled her sister behind her in a protective measure as he spoke. "Mark my word, my little shadowdancer, I will come back for you. Make no mistake."

The 'shadowdancer' spat at him, her salivia landing in his eye, causing him to curse loudly and struggle slightly as the police continued to drag him into the police car. One of the officers, a woman with a kind face and mousey brown hair, leaned forward to talk with them for a time, asking where their parents were. ("I don't know.") If they had anywhere they could go, ("I don't know.") and if they would like to come with her. There was a pause before they both nodded.

Elsewhere, Professor Charles Xavier found himself awoken by a terrible dream. He had found the twins Grace and Hope Sullivan's powers emerging the year before. He had tried to find them, but they were in foster care and had run away the same day that he had arrived to find their foster parents screaming about demon children. He had continued to try to find the two of them, and, after his dream he knew it would become difficult once again. He knew he would continue to search for the twins, their mutations were unusual, connected in the most extraordinary way and he sought to help them, not only control their abilities. Not only that but protect them. He knew that, given their connection, if one was to become gravely injured, the other would lose their mind and their powers would be uncontrollable, even deadly. With a heavy sigh, he lay back in his bed and went to sleep.

The wizard is a fool. He thinks that all of his books can teach him power. You know, maybe they can. Maybe he can learn the power I hold back from his books. He calls me foolish, he calls me irresponsible and he doesn't care what this all means. Responsibility? Sure, I unleash my powers more than wizards, but holding this all in... It's difficult. It's hard, but every day I feel my power coursing through me, burning through my body, ready to unleash itself. I'm being responsible holding it in so much! The fire... It tries to control me. No one else can understand it. The marks on my forehead, they aren't human made. I was born with them. That was my first clue. I haven't confirmed my suspicions, but I know.

My mother's grandfather was a dragon. A red dragon. It explains why my father never spoke of that side of the family. My Grandparents, even my own mother, I never met. My father claimed that she died when I was born. I've begun to suspect otherwise. I want to find her, to see if I can find out. I want to know how much my father lied to me about. None of them have bothered to ask why I don't choose to unleash my power so freely. My father. He forced me to go to the academy. I've found books of his... He didn't want a child. He wanted a great wizard. He didn't want me. He wanted some mindless fool. He wanted someone who obeyed his every command. When I was a child, I tried. I really tried. Every time I did something to try and please him, he got angry.

Oh, of course, he never hit me. He was too afraid that if he ever did that I would one day come for him and kill him. He was smart. When I got upset, my fires would unleash themselves and I would burn things. I never did it on purpose.