And Hornblower asking him textbook questions while Bush builds his rowboat for him. With his shirt off.

I cannot tell a lie. Put me in Hornblower's place, give me a cold bottle of ginger ale in my right hand, and that is, in fact, my ideal way to spend a spring afternoon. :D My fic = Mary Sueing of a particularly deep and pernicious kind.

The stone in the belly thing wasn't a symbol when I was writing it -- I just needed some kind of space filler to pace the scene, so I let my subconscious ramble. And look! You are too kind to my writing, and it works as a symbol and <3 Amazing. :D :D :D

You're pretty amazing in general. :D It always makes my night better when you IM me. And I love you depsite the fact that now I'm obsessively plotting out little subsequent filler-in stories about HH and Bush in the HP universe. XD
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