“You don’t lie to me,” Suri sings in her rhythmic, accented voice.

“You don’t lie to me,” Priya sings, trying her best not to giggle.

“You don’t lie to me,” Laura sings, casting an excited glance in my direction.

“You don’t lie to me,” I sing in as authentic a girl’s voice as my wavering vocal chords can manage.

“No more lies!” The four of us all yell simultaneously, earning cheers from Harriet and Megan on the sofa.

catfish, noun: a person who sets up a false personal profile on a social networking site for fraudulent or deceptive purposes
—Merriam-Webster.com

Jason's prank on his roommate goes terribly wrong... or terribly right.

“The Many Faces of Adira Potter: Chapter 11”

By = Fayanora

Chapter Eleven: Return of the Return of the Heir

Note 1: Text in 'Italics and British quotes' is Parseltongue.

Note 2: Once more, I apologize for the bits and pieces of canon dialogue/narration here and there. A bit more of it here than normal; one scene, I couldn't really improve upon or change.

Harry Potter and the Trouble With Neurotypicals: Book Two.

Or, "Aspie Potter and the Chamber of Secrets."

Chapter 4: Halloween

Note: Sorry for the postspam, but I was very behind on posting chapters for this one, and I have a new one coming up soon.

"You did WHAT?" Ron exploded in the MAC classroom Monday afternoon. Harry had called an emergency meeting to inform them of what he'd forgotten in the midst of the scary voice the night before. "No way, that racist git? No bloody--"

Teri flew into her room landing on her bed at a run, if she was going to get to the the F3 meeting on time she had to hurry. Diving into her clothes box it took her a moment to realize that there were some changes to the room.

“Huh, who left the rose bush?” she asked the empty room, flying up to look at a tiny, well tended rose bush sitting on her windowsill.

“Come on, cheer up!” Dad urges me as I comb my long- for a boy- floppy blonde hair. “Don’t think there’s a single twelve year old boy who wouldn’t kill to go where you’re going tonight, getting to see the best film ever with your girlfriend AND being surrounded by a bunch of celebrities…”

“Yeah, I guess,” I say with a long sigh.

“What’s wrong?” Dad asks. “Just a little tired? Don’t tell me you don’t like Star Wars…”

“No, the film was alright,” I say, making dad sigh.

Nat probably should have known better than to agree to go to the mall with his friends the day after his date with Gavin. Surprisingly, though, Nat’s mother was actually allowing him to go. She’d even given him one of her old purses to carry his wallet in, since Nat didn’t have a purse of his own. Maybe his mother had finally realized that Nat needed to spend more time with his friends outside of school.

God, I just have to realize/accept that I’m not like other girls. All my friends at school are into the jocks, the BMOCs of the school. Not me. As a matter-of-fact, I’m not sure I’m in to guys at all. I mean, I can’t see myself doing all the things that lesbians do with each other, but when my friends talk about what they want to do with the guys they want to be with, I can’t see myself with one of their heartthrobs doing that kind of stuff either. It’s then, while they’re extoling the virtues the manly men they’re crushing on that I wonder if I’m a lesbian.