The feeble moonlight, as always, caught Damon's strawberry blond curls, washing the reddish tint out of them. One scene for a discredited and overly ambitious fanfic, that was all he had ever appeared in, but that was enough to leave its permanent impression on him, just like Kendra would never be able to get her hair under control. Abandoned and forgotten, yet too well-imagined to fade away, Shantytown was his fate for as long as Subreality stood.

His Writer had given him a few things in her creation of him, though: a wand and the ability to use it decently, a sense of responsibility to family that technically didn't exist, and the kind of sweet naïveté that made more savage Fictives think he was an easy mark. But that naïveté had taken a few hits in his years in Subreality. He felt a lot older than his fifteen years now, even if he still had the round cheeks and soft physique he had been written into existence with. He missed his housemates in Hufflepuff, his brothers and sisters, Hogwarts, anything and everything familiar.

What he missed the most was more properly a who. He yearned for Justin, for the feeling of his boyfriend's gentle hands and comforting embrace. His Writer had never gotten around to writing any scenes for the two of them, had barely even established Justin's existence in the story, so there was no Justin Fictive from his universe to comfort him. Without Justin, he felt incomplete and empty. Kendra helped a little, as a friend, but she had the Concept of Suzie, and that made all the difference. Even if Susana D'Arco had never been written as a full-fledged character, she existed in some form, and that was enough for Kendra to wrap her arms around. And even when Kendra wasn't seeking solace, Shantytown was a big place; it was easy to lose track of someone.

Treading carefully over the broken glass on the street, he drew his wand and casually Stupefied the Wolverine that had been following him. In Shantytown, Fictives developed a sixth sense about danger, or they ceased to exist. He'd heard stories about that, how a Fictive that got ended in Shantytown disappeared from their Writer's memory as if they had never been in the first place. Damon was determined to avoid that fate.

But there was a shadowy figure in his path, and the aura of power that it threw off nearly knocked him to the ground. His wand was at the ready when he realized that this was no Scarlet Witch, no stray Dark Lord, not even a major Fictive that had taken a wrong turn from the good parts of Subreality. This… this was a Writer. And Writers in Shantytown were generally bad news. "Slumming?" he asked, hearing how broad his accent became when he was terrified.

The Writer smiled and threw back the hood of a purple robe. Long brown hair and a round face were revealed. The smile disappeared, replaced with a sheepish and regretful expression. Damon didn't lower his wand and made sure that the threat was clear. Of course he hadn't noticed her before. Disguised as she was, her… signature, for lack of a better word, would have felt like another of his kin-Fictives. He would have taken her for one of her character avatars, maybe Gina Kincaid or Andria Cormic. "CG," he said, only his innate gentleness keeping the two letters from coming out as a snarl.

Her brown eyes, amber in Subreality, were focused on a point far away from either of them. "Damon Fraser Stone, Hufflepuff class of '98," she said impersonally. "Sixth year in this particular incarnation. Beloved of Justin Finch-Fletchley, bosom friend of Kendra Safis. Oldest son of the Stones, second-oldest child."

"Tell me something I don't know, or have you just come here to mock me?"

"I have a story for you, Damon. A story I can finish. A story that will get you out of Shantytown. I have one for Kendra, too."

"Don't be kidding me," Damon warned. "I wouldn't enjoy it, but I might have enough in me to cast an Unforgivable."

"It would bring you back to fifth year, and I accidentally switched your skills in Charms and Transfiguration because I left my sketches of you and Kas in the other computer. Can you deal with not being able to Transfigure decently anymore?"

"If you're serious about this story-"

"Serious enough to write it. I can't promise it'll be very long, but it'll be more than a drabble. You'll exist. I swear this on my life." CG looked Damon in the eye, and he saw the honesty in her gaze.

"Thank you," he said.

She offered a shy smile. "I've missed you, Damon," she admitted. "It's been about three years in Reality since I wrote the start to 'Swish and Flick', but I rarely stopped thinking about you and Kendra, trying to find ways to work with you. I even offered to let another Writer put you in as background characters so you wouldn't be lost. It never came through, but then I read some meta and got an idea for you."

"Thank you," he repeated. "Now, um, could we get out of here? Shantytown's nowhere for decent women to be. Please, take my arm. I'll protect you."

"You're a sweet boy, but I *am* a Writer." Still, she did take his arm, and together they took their leave of Subreality's repository of broken dreams.

Subreality was first codified by Kielle, bless her, and she was kind enough to let the rest of us play in the sandbox. Shantytown was Seraph's addition, and is a place that I find all too useful. All things Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling. Damon, Kendra, and Susana are my original HP characters. As for Damon's story? It got written surprisingly quickly: http://nycscribbler.livejournal.com/329496.html, so he can now try to finagle a butterbeer out of the Bartender at the Subreality Café.