A/N: When this story was first written, it was as a one-shot, just to get a bit of poetry in. It had no erotica, no storyline. Then I decided to add Draco as a follow-up chapter, so it became a two-shot. Then, the readers requested more . . . some heat between their favorite couple. So I gave them a hot "during the party" scene between a rather starved Snape and a reluctant but equally starved Hermione. Then they wanted more. So there is no initial development and many felt that Severus was little more than a rapist at best and Draco little more than a stalker. Lol. I took some heat for this one, but I kept working at it and finally got a groove going with it. It gets pretty interesting, featuring Draco with an OFC in a staring role as well as Remus Lupin with a muggle OFC, though it is primarily SS/HG. No cure for Remus this time though and Rubin Fezwig makes his debut in this story. He was also in "Becoming Familiar." I recycle my OC's like I do the canon characters with slight changes, if any. There are also two young original characters and my favorite crazy witch, Bellatrix LeStrange. So if you don't mind the background unfolding during the story itself, take a look. Thanks.
A Song for Severus Part One
Hermione Granger sat alone as the Valentine's Day celebration went on all around her. Harry and Ron were slow dancing with their girlfriends, Mora and Dora. They were twins…blonde-haired, blue-eyed and curvaceous. They reminded Hermione of muggle Barbie dolls. There were a lot of whispers at Headquarters about what those four were up to behind closed doors. Seemed a bit of swapping was going on. Hermione didn't doubt it. Both Harry and Ron were pretty twisted.
Since Voldemort's death two years ago, life had been much better and brighter for the wizarding world. Albus insisted on throwing this party for the Order. The living room had been magically altered to ballroom size, though the size of Grimauld Place itself didn't change at all. There had to be about four hundred people partying.
Although her heart should have been light for this occasion, it was quite heavy, because Severus Snape was not in attendance. A year ago, he and Hermione discovered they had quite an attraction for each other. It was a sudden occurrence, startling and powerful as they worked on a potion together in the Professor's lab. Hermione was earning extra credit towards her Potions degree. She was distracted, accidentally adding a wrong ingredient to the brew and the cauldron had blown up. Luckily, Severus heard the warning whine of the ill-mixed ingredients and pulled Hermione away in time. She could have been killed by the shrapnel.
The Potions Master had raged at her as he held her protectively in his embrace, then suddenly kissed her passionately. She had been unable/unwilling to stop him and he took her on the floor of his lab, his robes spread under them as he possessed the young witch, taking both her virginity and her heart. From that night on, they became secret lovers, though Albus was aware of their involvement. He was aware of everything it seemed.
But Severus was away on Order business right now, and there was no telling when he would return. He was always very closed-mouthed about what he did when he went on these excursions. But his first act whenever he returned was to find Hermione and make passionate love to her as if re-grounding himself in his new world.
Hermione was torn about the way the dark wizard acted. He was so secretive, so manipulative. She suspected Severus lied to her more often than not about his activities, and told herself many times it would be better if she ended her relationship with him, but then…he would take her so passionately and desperately on his return that she felt she could never ever leave him.
Hermione watched as the band "Dirty Magic" ended the song and the lead male singer moved to the background. A slender, pale witch in torn red robes with beautiful dark eyes and short-cropped spiked black hair walked up to the magically enhanced microphone. She held a rose in one hand and looked incredibly sad as she gripped the mike and the band struck up a haunted sounding ballad.
The stage darkened, a single spotlight focused on the witch as she began to sing. The students started dancing, but soon stopped to just watch and listen to the witch as she crooned in a soulful voice that didn't seem to belong to her.
Hermione was enthralled as she watched her, tears beginning to form in her eyes as the singer's words pulled at her soul, echoing her deepest feelings about the dark wizard she loved.
At any given time you're leaving me
a wicked smile and gleam in your eyes.
At any given moment, deceiving me,
I'm so in love with your lies.
In any given hour you take me in your arms,
brutalize my heart with
the darkness of your charms.
Then in the dark of night I lay,
wishing you would go away,
Your whispers in my head,
your shadow in my bed.
At any given time, you're killing me
slowly with the magic you wield.
At any given moment thrilling me,
cutting deep until I'm healed.
In any given hour you possess
demanding answers…
until my soul's confessed
Then in the dark of night I lay,
wishing you would go away,
Your whispers in my head,
your shadow in my bed.
Then in the dark of night I lay
my red bloom drained to gray,
You rise black & then you're gone…
behind your rose, a thorn.
The music stopped and the light dimmed, bathing the witch in darkness, her final note echoing around the room then softly dying away. Everyone let out their breaths and broke out in applause, but when the lights came back on, the artist was gone. Only the red rose lay abandoned on the stage floor.
Hermione was still clapping and blinking back tears when she felt a presence. She looked up. There, across the room stood Severus, his black eyes resting on her soberly. He had been gone nearly a month and entered the room at the start of the song and quietly watched Hermione's reaction to it.
He mouthed one word at her.
"Come," then disappeared into the crowd.
Her stomach full of lacewing flies, Hermione slowly rose and followed the Potions Master as if mesmerized.
Once again it was time to be pricked by his thorn.
Malina, stripped of her tattered red robes, her slender body now dressed in a black tank top and black stretch jeans, walked away from Grimauld Place's celebration, her dark eyes resting on the sidewalk as she slowly strolled the lonely muggle street, her wand sticking out her back pocket.
Miles, the lead singer of "Dirty Magic" had asked her to sing a set with them, begged her really…coming to her flat and refusing to leave until she agreed.
"You're closing yourself off, love…you could be a star. A fucking star. But all you do is sit here and write these fantastically sorrowful love songs by candlelight and brood. Come sing with us," he said, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside the witch.
"I don't feel like it, Miles," she replied, hugging her knees.
"You never feel like it until you open your mouth and all that beauty comes out," the wizard said. "You've got to get out of this flat. You're dying here."
Miles worked on her until she finally capitulated.
"Just one song. One. It's new and doesn't have a title," she said, handing him the music. Miles scanned it, his blonde brows rising.
"Damn," he said, looking at her. "You've got it bad for some bloke, Malina. Who is he?"
"No one. He's not in my life anymore and I don't want to talk about him," she said, her dark eyes going cold. "He's not good for me."
"He's good fodder for songs though," Miles said, standing up. "We'll pick you up at eight, Valentine's night.
So she went, she sang and she left. Malina didn't want the applause. It was empty. Everything in her life was empty.
She walked past a small alley between the houses, preparing to apparate to the wizarding section of London, when a voice called out from the darkness.
"Malina," it said softly.
Malina stiffened for a moment, then began to walk quickly.
"Leave me alone. I told you it was over," she said over her shoulder.
"It can never be over between us, Malina. I love you," the voice said, drawing closer.
Malina bit her lip at those words.
Two hands gripped her shoulders gently, stopping her and pulling her back against a strongly built body. She felt strong arms slip around her waist and a pair of soft lips graze her earlobe.
"You miss me. I know you do, Malina. I know you do," Draco Malfoy breathed, nuzzling the witch's neck. "I've only just returned. I need you."
Malina allowed herself to relax against the blonde wizard, closing her eyes as she felt his warmth against her.
"Returned from where, Draco? You never tell me when you're leaving or when you're coming back. You're gone for weeks sometimes. I can't live like that. With all the secrecy. With all the lies," she whispered.
"I love you, Malina…that's all I can tell you," Draco said, "I know you can feel it. I won't let you go. You are the only thing that makes my life bearable."
Malina turned in his arms and looked into those beautiful gray eyes.
"What is it about your life that is so unbearable, Draco? Just tell me. I won't betray you," she said to him, her heart melting as she looked into his handsome face. Gods, she was so weak for him.
"Everything but you, Malina," Draco replied softly, lowering his head and kissing her gently, pulling at her lower lip before tasting her heat.
Malina felt herself ignite, her body beginning to quake with desire. Draco could always do this to her. Love her…leave her…hurt her…then love her again. She thought she could fight it this time, break it off and stick to her wands
Draco growled softly as he felt her reaction and deepened the kiss, pulling Malina tight against his body. She could feel his arousal, his hardened organ pressing into her belly. The wizard pulled away from her mouth, his eyes smoldering.
"Come with me to the Manor," he breathed at her, "You want me as badly as I want you, Malina. I've missed you. You aren't through with me. I won't let you be through with me."
Malina looked up at him, her hunger battling with her logic…her love for the dark wizard battling with her reason.
"I can't," she said weakly, so aware of his body, of his desire.
Draco scowled, his nostrils flaring.
"You can…and you will, Malina," he said with a growl, pulling Malina into another passionate kiss and disapparating with her to Malfoy Manor.
Hermione could just make out the billow of Severus' robes as the wizard strode ahead of her to a seemingly blank wall in the makeshift ballroom. The Potions Master pressed the wall and a door opened and he passed through. Hermione followed, entering the hallway of Grimauld Place. The Potions Master stood there, his black eyes intense. When Hermione closed the door behind her, he placed several powerful wards on the entrance, then strode toward the witch, wrapping his arms around her and backing her against the door, pressing his body against hers. He cast a silencing spell around them and dropped his wand to the floor.
"I've missed you witch," he hissed, covering her mouth in a searing kiss, his hands sliding over her body hungrily as he moved against her. He lifted her, his mouth falling to her throat, licking and sucking as he pressed his erection between her legs, Hermione gasping from the ardor of his attack.
Severus ran his hands down her thighs and began to lift her dress up around her hips, baring her legs.
"Severus…Severus wait," Hermione hissed as the wizard slid against her, his breathing harsh.
"I can't wait," he breathed, capturing her mouth again as his long fingers slid between her thighs, shifting her knickers aside and petting her gently, Hermione letting out a groan of pleasure.
"Severus, we shouldn't…not here," she said, her body protesting her words as the Potions Master brought his hand to his mouth and tasted her, his nostrils flaring. He set Hermione down on the floor and began to unbutton his robes quickly, his dark eyes hot.
"I've waited more than a month for this, witch. A month for you, Hermione. All I could think about in my quiet moments was your kiss, your touch, your scent, the feel of you wrapped around me…I won't wait any longer. I can't," he breathed passionately, his words igniting Hermione as if she were one huge torch.
"Oh gods, Severus," she gasped as a gush of desire rolled through her. She couldn't resist him when he was like this.
"Yessss," he hissed, pulling his robes apart and going to work on his trousers, unfastening them and pulling them open.
The Potions Master pulled his trousers along with his boxers down, revealing his lean, muscular thighs, his long, thick member springing out, the head purple, the pale shaft hard and pulsing. Hermione looked down at his organ, her eyes smoldering as he reached under her dress and pulled her knickers down. She stepped out of one side, the thin blue fabric hooked on one ankle as Severus, his dark eyes locked to her face, gathered the witch's dress around her waist.
"It feels as if I've waited centuries to have you again," he said to her softly as he lifted Hermione up against the door, hooking her knees over his arms so she was spread before him.
"Help me," he breathed at her.
Hermione's small hand reached between her legs and wrapped around his shaft. It was hot and throbbing against her palm, and another gush rolled out of the witch as she positioned the head of her lover's erection against her entrance with a moan. A part of her knew this was wrong, so wrong, having sex in a hallway of Order Headquarters with crowds of people just on the other side of the door. But damn, it felt so right. She needed him.
Severus thrust into her with a grunt, his face contorting in pleasure as he buried himself once again inside her delicious body, Hermione keening as he parted her, the caress of his penetration filling her completely.
Severus held still for a moment as Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, her eyes soft as he rested his forehead against hers, panting slightly. After a moment, Severus whispered, "Comfort me, Hermione. Only you can bring me comfort."
Severus locked his mouth to Hermione and kissed her deeply as he began to move rhythmically, stroking her hot, moist sleeve hungrily, the witch sliding up and down the wall as he possessed her, losing himself and for the moment…his memories in her acceptance, in her love. Hermione was whimpering as the Potions Master took her, her body rising and falling against the doorway as he thrust, his ardor taking him over.
Severus pulled away from her mouth and looked into her eyes for a moment, his own eyes dark and vulnerable, almost pleading.
"I need all of you," he groaned burying his face in her hair and letting loose, driving into her almost brutally, Hermione's body arching off the door as he took her with abandon, gasping, groaning and hissing his pleasure as he plunged and plundered the sweetness Hermione held for only him.
Hermione cried out from his power, her shrill voice washing over him, a siren's song drawing him in. but there was no mast to be lashed to…no one to hold him back from the ocean of her being, and the wizard arched into her, whirling, plunging, bucking, his shirt beneath his robes sticking to his pale body from perspiration as he claimed what was his again.
He let out a little cry when Hermione's body locked down on him, clutching and pulsing around his swollen member, her liquid fire gushing over him, wetting his loins as she orgasmed, calling out his name. The Potions Master pulled back from her hair, strands of it sticking to his face as he claimed her mouth again, his own release approaching.
Feeling himself about to explode, Severus pulled Hermione away from the door, not missing a stroke as the witch's legs wrapped around him reflexively. Severus plunged into her desperately, grimacing and trying to savor the last vestiges of her softness, her heat, her sweet surrender.
Suddenly he toppled over the brink, pleasure thrumming through him, a hot stream of pulsing bliss pouring into the witch, the wizard filling her with his own fire as he strained against her, groaning and shuddering, his mouth still locked to hers, their tongues still entwined in a deep, double kiss as they flowed together, then apart, hearts pounding, intoxicated by their connection and release.
Severus continued to hold Hermione against him, kissing her tenderly as he deflated inside the witch, loving the way she quaked against him as she returned to earth. What a beautiful, passionate young witch she was…and gods, how she accepted him. It was as if he held all the beauty in the world in his arms, and though he was spent, he was loathe to release her. It was only in her arms he could show his humanity, his frailty, his weaknesses. There was no place for such things in the real world. Hermione was his escape and his solace…the one person on earth who knew for certain he had feelings and emotions other than cruelty, malice and hatefulness.
And they were all for her.
Hermione held on to Severus, soothed and comforted by his continued kisses. She had never dreamed the cold, sarcastic Potions Master had so much passion, or the ability to be tender. When he took her the first time it was as if a floodgate had opened up in the wizard, at first he was near brutal, overcome with desire…but when he looked down and saw the blood…Severus realized she had never been with a man before and became gentle…almost loving, talking to her softly, apologizing even as he continued, his dark eyes filled with an emotion she had never seen in their depths before as he brought her to her first real release.
Then, for a week afterwards, he became cold and distant…barking instructions at her and looking as if he wanted to hex her constantly as they worked together in his lab. But Hermione was determined to finish out her time with him and earn her credits. Then one evening, when her work was completed and she tried to go…he stopped her and after a bit of hedging, confessed he wanted her for his lover. He didn't say he loved her, but promised to be kind to her…as kind as was possible. The dark wizard didn't give her a chance to tell him no, but overcame her with kisses and caresses, his silken voice and dark eyes working their magic, and she found herself in his bed, the wizard doing things to her body she never dreamed she'd allow any man to do with her blessing. Now…now she belonged to him, body and soul. And sometimes…it hurt to be so in love with him.
But not now. Not with him holding her as he was, his heart beating against her own, his lips soft against her mouth, the scent of their spent passion in the air. As separated as she felt from the wizard these past few weeks, once again he made her feel whole. Gods, she was so weak.
Severus gave Hermione a final kiss, withdrew from her body with a sigh and gently set her down. Then he bent and picked up his wand, scourgifying her then himself, before fixing his clothing as Hermione pulled on her knickers and lowered her dress. She looked up at him as he buttoned his robes. His dark eyes met hers.
"Do you want to stay at the party?" he asked her.
Hermione shook her head.
"No, I want to go home," she replied, "and for you to come with me."
Severus studied her for a moment. He still had to report to Dumbledore.
"You go on ahead. I have something I need to do, then I will come," he said, scowling slightly at the pain in Hermione's eyes as he replied.
The problem was Severus had given her this same answer numerous times before and never showed up. She waited for hours before falling into a restless sleep. He was sorry about that, but it couldn't be helped. Other situations came up suddenly that had to be addressed. But he really planned to join her tonight.
"You're lying to me again, Severus," Hermione said softly, "It would be better to say you aren't coming than to make me think you are and then not showing up."
"I'm not lying to you, Hermione. I will be there…I promise," he said.
Hermione's eyes hardened.
"Don't! Severus, don't make me anymore promises," she said, her voice catching. "I'm just going to go. If you come…you come. If you don't…"
Hermione's voice faded.
Severus sighed. He didn't know how to fix this. All he knew was that when he went away, the most important thing he had to do when he returned was find Hermione and reclaim her, hoping she would feel the depth of his desire for her and continue to accept him. He didn't want to keep secrets from her, but he had to. He didn't want to hide his relationship with her either, but he had to do that also. If he was stronger, he would have left the witch alone, but Severus had found such solace and acceptance in Hermione…he was too selfish to release her and return to his lonely life.
"I will be there," he said to the witch, who turned away from him and walked (a bit gap-legged) around the enclosed living room, which was its normal size from this vantage point, out of the foyer and into the night.
Severus watched her go. There was nothing he could do until he talked to Albus. He doubted Draco had yet made his report. More than likely he was aware Malina had performed tonight and tried to head her off before she got away. Malina was quite good at disappearing. The Potions Master was glad Hermione was not that way. Sometimes Draco had to search for weeks to find his witch. At least Hermione was predictable.
So far.
Severus cleared the wards from around the door, removed the silencing spell and opened it, walking through the partying guests in search of Albus. Once he was finished with him, he would go to Hermione's flat and do his best to make the witch happy for the time he was with her.
As he walked through the dancing throng, the Potions Master looked around at the cheerful crowd. Everyone was so happy and exuberant. But they would be. Ignorance was bliss after all...
They all believed the war was over.
Panting heavily, Draco dropped to the mattress, pulling Malina down and spooning around her slender, naked body, kissing her neck and shoulders appreciatively.
The witch shuddered against him slightly. Gods, he'd done it to her again…and again, she loved it. As she lay there, she remembered the first time she'd met Draco, in the music shop she occasionally worked in when she needed extra galleons.
Draco had walked in, immaculately dressed in Slytherin green robes, his father's emerald and platinum ring on his finger, and silver-tipped cane in his hand. He walked up to the counter where Malina was busily counting some new discs. She looked up at him.
"Can I help you?" she asked the wizard politely.
Draco's gray eyes washed over the witch. She was slim and pale, with short black hair and expressive dark eyes. Her mouth was small and full. She wore black lipstick. Malina looked quite dark. Draco liked dark.
"Yes. I'd like to purchase 'The Black Cauldron' album by Dirty Magic," he replied, arching one eyebrow at the witch.
Malina put down her quill and walked around the counter.
"The Dirty Magic section is this way," she said walking down an aisle that had albums on shelves, Draco following, watching her as she walked. Malina wasn't dressed in robes but in a black, short-sleeved blouse, black stretch denims and black trainers. On one pale arm she had a tattoo of a rose with a single thorn, a drop of blood on its point and a small pool of blood beneath it.
She stopped in front of a section of albums and began thumbing through it, Draco standing behind her.
"The Black Cauldron?" she asked over her shoulder.
"Yes," replied Draco, stepping a bit closer, intruding in the witch's space.
Malina found the album, spun around and found herself almost face to face with Draco. Malina was tall, at least five foot nine. Draco was six foot tall.
"Here's your album," she said, trying to step back a bit, but there wasn't much room because of the shelves of albums.
Draco smiled and slowly took the album out of her hand. He looked at it a moment, then at her.
"Thank you," he said, his gray eyes resting on her with interest. Malina slid sideways and walked back to the counter, Draco smirking after her. He walked up to the counter and slid the album across it. Malina took it.
"Will that be all, sir?" she asked him.
Draco studied her for a moment.
"What is your name?" he asked the witch.
"Malina," she replied.
"Malina," Draco repeated, "That is a very pretty name. I only need one more thing…" he said to the witch. "For you to accompany me to lunch."
The witch looked at the pureblood, rather shocked. He was handsome, but not her type of wizard at all. He was obviously aristocracy, blonde-haired, cultured. It was easy to see they moved in different circles. They had nothing in common.
"I'm afraid not," she said, lowering her eyes and ringing up his purchase.
Draco scowled. Witches rarely declined his invitations. They always jumped on them. He was good-looking and rich. Witches loved him.
"Why not?" he asked her.
Malina looked at him.
"By the way you're dressed, I assume you're a pureblood with a pedigree," Malina said to him.
Draco nodded.
"Well, I'm a muggle-born. A poor one. We have nothing in common," she said.
Draco looked at Malina. A muggle-born? So what? She was lovely.
"I don't agree with you. We do have something in common. You're a witch and I'm a wizard. We are…compatible," he said with a bit of a purr.
Malina looked at him. It was easy to see what the handsome wizard wanted. Trim. By the look of him, he probably got plenty. Well, she knew how to make him back off.
"You make it a habit of openly dating mudbloods, sir?" she said, shocking Draco at her use of the derogatory term. "Or are you one of the enlightened purebloods that sprung up after Voldemort's death…the type that claims 'parentage doesn't matter,' and tries to prove your tolerance by bedding muggle-born witches at every opportunity?"
Ouch.
"Parentage is the last thing on my mind when I meet a lovely witch," Draco replied evenly.
Now Malina arched an eyebrow at him as she accepted his money and bagged the album.
"Oh. So what is the first thing?" she asked him.
"Getting to know her," he responded, "Preferably over a meal."
Malina handed him the bag.
"Well, I'm sorry Mr…" she began
"Draco. Draco Malfoy," Draco said by way of introduction.
Malina cocked her head at him.
"Well I'm sorry, Draco. We are not allowed to fraternize with the store's patrons," she lied. "It could cost me my job. Good day and thank you for shopping at the Music Symposium."
And she dismissed him…just like that.
Draco exited the store, frowning. She had turned him down because he was a pureblood. Reverse discrimination at the least. The witch thought he just wanted to bed her. Well, she had been right about that…but still it rankled Draco that she turned him down cold. He didn't believe for one minute that her job prevented her from going out with him.
Draco was a young man used to getting what he wanted. Now that his father and mother were securely domiciled in Azkaban, he was the Lord of the Manor. He had no problems getting witches. All he had to do was invite them to dinner and they all jumped. Landing Draco would mean a life of luxury. Even if he had been ugly as sin, he would have still had his pick of witches.
But Malina wasn't impressed by his wealth or standing. As much as he liked to be admired, something about that appealed to the dark wizard. If he could win a witch like that over, he could be sure it wasn't his wealth that attracted her. It would be him.
Malina would be a challenge, and Draco needed something other than his work for the Order to challenge him, take up his thoughts and his time. Bedding willing witch after willing witch became tiresome. They all ran together. Not one stood out.
Malina neither looked nor acted like any of the women he was involved with. Something radiated from her…something deep. He could tell she had substance. She certainly had heart, the blatant way she addressed him. She didn't show him deference because he was aristocracy. He believed she talked to him as she would have any randy wizard. He liked that. It was different.
Draco decided right then and there he would try and win the witch over.
When he next visited the Music Symposium, Malina wasn't there. A smiling blonde witch was behind the counter, and she made it quite clear she found him attractive.
"How can I help you, sir?" she asked him, leaning over the counter so her ample cleavage showed. Draco had no doubt he could take the witch to the back of the store and shag her if he wanted to. But he didn't want to. He was here for Malina.
"I'm looking for a witch that works here by the name of Malina," he said to the clerk, his eyes washing over her cleavage for a moment. It was rather nice…
"Oh. Malina isn't a regular employee. She only comes in now and then, mostly to cover when someone is out," the clerk replied.
So the witch had been lying to him. She didn't work here enough for her job to be in jeopardy. The minx.
"I see. Does she have another place of employment?" he asked her.
The clerk looked thoughtful.
"Not that I know of. She earns her money doing back-up singing on albums. She's at the studio most of the time, I think," the witch said, eyeing Draco.
"That wouldn't happen to be the 'Aria-Bolis' studio in Hogsmeade would it?" Draco asked her. That studio was one of his family's many holdings. It was the only local music studio in the area.
"Actually, it is," the clerk replied, smiling at the wizard and fluttering her eyes.
"Thank you…you've been quite helpful," Draco said, lifting the witch's hand and kissing it. She looked as if she were going to orgasm. Yes, he could have done anything he wanted with her. Unfortunately for the clerk, his imagination and libido had been taken over by Malina.
Taking advantage of his position, Draco had his solicitor contact the studio and told them Lord Malfoy was to be contacted whenever the back-up singer, Malina was on the premises. And they were not to let the witch know or else heads would roll. This threat was taken quite seriously.
The moment Draco received word Malina was there, he apparated to the studio. After checking several sound booths, he found the one Malina was working in. The witch was helping the engineers do a sound check and was behind the glass wearing headphones and singing when Draco walked in. The wizard stopped, completely smitten by her voice, deep, sensuous…beautiful. Draco watched spellbound as Malina sang and when she finished, he had to take a deep breath. He'd been holding it.
The engineer nodded at Malina, and she removed her headphones and exited the booth.
"Got it, Charlie?" she asked the engineer.
"Yep. Thanks, Malina. You know…you should record a song of your own here. You'd be a bloody hit," the engineer said to her.
"I'm not star material, Charlie…you know that. I don't want fame. I want peace," she responded. Then she looked up and saw Draco who was staring at her.
Shocked, Malina stared back at him. What was Draco Malfoy doing here? She asked him.
"This studio is one of my holdings. I was just doing a walk-through," he lied.
"Oh, I see. The boss man checking up on his investment," Malina said, walking past him and out of the door. Draco followed her.
"You have an amazing voice," Draco said, ignoring her little barb, "I've never heard anyone sing so beautifully. You are very talented."
"Thank you," Malina said, steadily walking down the hall. She stopped outside a door and looked at Draco, who also stopped.
"I have a session. No one is allowed in," she said.
Draco knew full well he could enter any session he wanted. But it was obvious the witch didn't want him standing about, so he didn't press the issue.
"How about that dinner?" he asked her.
Malina shook her head.
"I'm not interested in getting to know you better, Lord Malfoy," she said, emphasizing the "Lord." "I'm not interested in dating the son of known Death Eaters."
"Now wait a minute," Draco said, his eyes darkening with anger. "You can't judge me by my parents. I'm not my parents."
"They raised you, didn't they? You must have their beliefs," Malina said to him.
"I have my own beliefs," Draco said.
Malina blinked at him.
"Let me see your left forearm," she said.
Draco frowned at her. His Dark Mark was there.
"No," he said, scowling.
"That's what I thought. You're a Death Eater too," she said. "But of course you have too much influence to be locked away like you should be. How many muggles and muggle-borns like me have you watched die?"
Draco reacted before he knew what he was doing. He grabbed Malina by both arms and shook her, his eyes wild.
"You know nothing about that! Nothing about the horrors I've had to helplessly stand by and watch! Why do you think I am NOT like my parents! I may have the mark, Malina…but I do not have the soul of a Death Eater…" he hissed at her.
Malina's eyes went wide with terror at Draco's sudden violence…then he calmed, realizing what he had said, what he was doing. He released her.
"I'm going to have to obliviate you," he said quietly, "no one can know what you know about me."
"Why?" she asked with a whisper, studying Draco. There was more to him than what he was presenting. Something deeper.
"It is…important," he said, drawing his wand.
Malina looked into his eyes and saw pain there. So Draco was a wizard with secrets. She understood secrets and how lonely keeping them could be.
"Please don't," she said softly, "Don't obliviate me. I won't tell anyone. I want to know you aren't one of them. And you'll feel better if at least one person knows. Secrets are like that."
Draco looked at her.
"Malina, if it got back to the wrong people, it would mean trouble…not just for me…" he said, hesitating. He wanted Malina to know he wasn't the way she assumed he was, but the danger…
"I won't tell anyone, Draco," she said. "I'm a muggle-born, remember? I'll keep your secret."
Draco blinked at her several times, trying to decide what to do.
"How do I know I can trust you?" he asked her. "I don't even know you."
"You can get to know me…over dinner," she replied.
Draco explained to Malina that their friendship would also have to be a secret, and he understood if she couldn't accept that. Malina was quite a private person herself and dating a Lord would make her a target of the paparazzi, so she had no problem with the secrecy aspect.
Draco always brought her to the Manor to eat, but was a gentleman. Malina was no easy shag. They took time to know each other and Draco never once made an untoward move her. They would dine, talk and he would send her on her way.
One night, Malina waited for Draco to retrieve her…and he didn't come. He didn't show up at the studio either. He was gone for weeks. Had something happened to him? She went to his manor about a month after his disappearance, and was informed by the house elves he'd "gone away" and they didn't know when he would be back.
This disturbed Malina. Draco did not seem the kind of wizard who would just leave without telling her anything. It was easy to see he wanted a relationship with her. Where had he gone?
Then, one night he suddenly showed up at the studio. His eyes were rather wild and pained.
"Draco, Draco…what's wrong? Where have you been?" she had asked him.
"Come with me to the Manor, Malina…please," he said to her almost desperately.
"But I'm in a session," she replied.
Draco's shoulders slumped.
"Very well," he said, then disapparated, startling her and everyone in the sound booth.
Malina went back to doing her vocals, but she was very concerned. She had been seeing Draco for two months before his disappearance a month ago. He had never been so intense. After the session, she went to the Manor. A house elf with a worried expression let her in and showed her to the main study.
Draco was slouched in an armchair in front of the fireplace, staring into the flames with a haunted look in his eyes.
"Draco?" she said softly.
The wizard's gray eyes shifted up, then he saw the witch and leaped out of his chair.
"Malina…you came," he said, approaching her, that pained look still in his eyes. Suddenly he embraced her, pulling the witch tight against him, holding her.
"I need you," he said against her temple before pulling back and looking into her eyes, "Malina…please."
Malian's insides seemed to flip over at the look on his face.
"Draco…" she breathed, not knowing what to say.
"Let me…let me," he breathed, suddenly covering her mouth in a searing kiss that set her entire body ablaze.
It was the last truly coherent moment Malina had that night. Draco possessed her as if he himself were possessed and it was early morning before he finally let the witch alone, pulling her against him and wrapping his arms around her quaking body possessively.
"Don't leave me, Malina," were the last words he whispered to her before he fell into an exhausted and sated sleep.
They became lovers, but…Draco kept disappearing. Malina knew he was doing something important…but he would never tell her what. It was a wall between them…a wall that grew thicker and thicker as time passed. Malina tried to break it off with him several times, hiding from him for weeks before he'd find her and whisk her back to his manor.
Like he'd done tonight.
Malina listened to his breathing level out. He was asleep, but she knew that if she made any attempt to leave, Draco would wake instantly and take her again. She lay there, Draco's chest rising and falling against her back as he slept, feeling his ache inside her and the ache of her own heart as well. She loved Draco…but couldn't take the pain that loving him caused. The secrets between them were just too great.
Would there ever be an end to this? Would she ever get free of him?
She had to.
"Volaria, drink all of your pumpkin juice," Bellatrix LeStrange said to the scowling thirteen-year old witch sitting at the breakfast table with her arms crossed.
"I don't want it," Volaria said, eyeing the pumpkin juice suspiciously, "Last time I drank pumpkin juice from you, I was sick for two days and some of my hair fell out."
The young witch touched a bald patch on her blonde head and grimaced.
"You're such a pussy, Volaria," her sixteen-year-old brother said from the other end of the table. He was eating a piece of sausage.
"Voltaire, you take that back!" she yelled at him. "Aunt Bella, tell him to stop talking to me like that!"
Bellatrix grinned and said nothing.
"I am not a pussy! It's fine for boys to be bald, but not girls you idiot!" she said to her brother, who narrowed his reddened eyes at her.
"It's not going to matter if you are bald later on. Think of the power, stupid," he snarled, launching some eggs at her from his fork.
Volaria pointed her finger at the flying scrambled eggs and zapped them out of existence before they reached her. Voltaire scowled. He couldn't do that. He didn't have wandless magic.
"I don't want the fucking power!" Volaria screeched, jumping up from the table, "I don't want any of this. And for once in my life I'd like to go outside!"
The witch bolted from the room, her crimson robes billowing behind her.
Voltaire watched her go then looked up at Bellatrix, frowning. The gray-eyed witch hadn't said a word during their exchange...despite their language. She never said anything about how they spoke to each other.
"I think you should stop giving Volaria the elixir," he said quietly.
Bellatrix hid her smile and kept her face straight as she looked at the young wizard. His skin was slowly becoming more dry and flakey and he had lost all his hair.
"Why Voltaire?" she asked him, already knowing the answer.
"Because, even though I can't stand her...she's my sister. If she becomes too powerful, I'm going to have to kill her," he said, spooning some eggs into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. "There can only be one Dark Lord after all, and I have to make sure no one is as powerful as I am so I can assume my father's throne. No one. Not even Volaria. So it would be better if you stopped giving her the elixir. She doesn't want it anyway."
"I see, Voltaire. You are thinking ahead. That is good," the witch said, walking up to the young wizard, who craned his head up at the witch. Bellatrix was still very lovely and curvaceous. She ran a finger under his chin, and the young wizard closed his eyes with pleasure. His crotch always grew tight lately whenever Bella touched him. It tightened now, and he gave her a hungry look.
"It feels good when you touch me, Aunt Bella," he breathed, his red eyes opening and staring at the witch.
Bella smiled lasciviously.
"You have your father's reaction to me, Voltaire. When you turn seventeen I will show you just how good my touch can feel," she said to him, kissing the wizard lightly on his chapped lips. "I will think about stopping Volaria's treatments...but for now, apply yourself to your studies and grow strong. You have great robes to fill, Voltaire. Very great robes."
"Yes, Aunt Bellatrix," the wizard replied, his eyes resting on her body as she walked away from him.
She was so beautiful. Beautiful and cruel. She let him kill a house elf the other day...just for fun. She gave him a club and pointed at the trembling creature. His name was Dropsy, and the elf had taken care of Voltaire since he was a baby.
"Kill it Voltaire," she said, smiling at him. "See how good it feels."
Voltaire obeyed her and found that it did feel good as the elf screamed and begged his young master for mercy. The wizard beat Dropsy until he was nothing but a flat mass of pulverized skin and bone, the blood of his former caretaker covering Voltaire's robes and spattering his face. Bella had been very pleased with him and kissed him on the lips for over five seconds, one soft hand cupping the back of his bald head. It had felt so good. Bella's mouth was so soft and warm, and she smelled...gods. Voltaire couldn't describe how she smelled if he had all the words in the world before him.
All he knew was that he loved her.
Bellatrix entered her private chambers looking thoughtful. Voltaire was developing nicely, but Volaria…she was too soft, too much like her mother.
The gray-eyed witch sat down on her bed, smirking. So, the young Lord was already thinking of sororicide. Good. Good. It meant he was thinking of himself, for himself. Her years of teaching were paying off. Voltaire might even eclipse his father in his cruelty.
His father.
Bellatrix's lip curled as she thought of how successfully she had duped Voldemort. She had been his number one consort, but Bella was not satisfied with such a place. She wanted to rule beside the Dark Lord as his queen.
But Voldemort was too selfish, too paranoid to share his throne. He didn't even want children for fear they would grow up to overthrow him. He intended on living forever, so did not want or need heirs. He never worried about Bella. She was born with a closed womb, something she never forgave the gods for. This added to her cruelty, and she took great pleasure in tormenting and mutilating pregnant witches and muggles, often slicing them open, removing the fetus and crushing it before the mother's eyes underfoot. Bella was a cruel, sick soul…which endeared her to Voldemort even more.
Yet, she was ambitious, and knew that the forces of good just might overthrow the paranoid despot, and so she concocted a plan. Voldemort enjoyed threesomes and often sent Bella to find partners for their trysts, trusting her to insure whoever she brought would not conceive. He thought he was safe in this, seeing how Bella envied women who could bear children. She would never allow any woman to be impregnated by him. Or so Voldemort thought.
When Bella first conceived of this plan, she went out to find a secluded place, somewhere she could protect her secret. She had an underground enclave built in a secret location, most of the workmen house elves she forced into service. It took five years for it to be completed and was carefully warded and rendered unplottable by a young, talented, and unfortunately for him, gullible Spells Master, who Bella first seduced, then convinced she was building a "safe house" for muggle-borns in the event that the Dark Lord's forces overran the wizarding world. So the young wizard felt compelled to keep her secret and use all his skill and creativity to create a hold that was impossible to discern or penetrate without the proper spells. In fact, there were some very nasty surprises for anyone who did manage to find the hold and tried to force their way in.
Of course, when the young wizard completed his work, Bella killed him. She slit his throat while riding him cowgirl style, orgasming as he gurgled, his blue eyes wide with shock and blood pouring from the deep wound. He stayed erect until the bitter end.
The hold was quite large and ingeniously constructed so fresh air could enter through fissures and circulate throughout. It had indoor plumbing and running water. It also had its own infirmary, library, labs, classrooms, a large snake pit where King Cobras were bred and large open spaces where games or other events could be held. Of course it had a large kitchen and several living areas, bedrooms and the like. It also had a Room of Requirement, which required Bella to hire and kill several skilled craftswizards, using the same story she used on the young Spellmaster. People were so fucking gullible.
The enclave was completely run by house elves, but Bella acquired, or kidnapped rather, a young healer fresh out of university named Jordan, and kept him chained by one leg in a small room until his services were required. Sometimes she had sex with the brown-eyed, brown-haired wizard, but it was always a non-consensual situation, the poor healer doing so under duress.
"I got you, didn't I?" Bella would say to him, "What makes you think I can't get a replacement should you die? Now lie down and cooperate."
To her credit however, Bella kept Jordan supplied with books, magazines, parchment, ink, quills and the like so his brain wouldn't atrophy, and twice a week either she or a properly conditioned house elf took him to the main arena and let him exercise. The elves knew they were not to serve Jordan beyond this, though they often took him extra food when they could.
When Bella was satisfied with the premises, she then enacted the next part of her plan, and brought Voldemort a witch who she had cast a fertility spell on. The witch was scared to death, which delighted Voldemort, and the despot shagged her far into the night, Bella watching more than she participated as the witch screamed and begged for mercy. The woman was thoroughly traumatized, and it was easy to bring her to the enclave and situate her there. As Bella hoped, the witch, whose name was Patricia, had indeed conceived, and was horrified to find out that if the Dark Lord discovered she was pregnant he would kill both her and the child without hesitation.
Bella played the Protectress, taking care of Patricia's every need until she delivered Voltaire with the healer's assistance. The poor wizard had just cut the umbilical cord and announced it was a boy, when the room was filled with the dread green light of the Killing curse. Patricia hadn't even had a chance to lay eyes on her child.
Bella studied the baby. He was dark-haired like Voldemort had once been.
"I am his mother now," she told the wide-eyed healer. "Take him and care for him. The elves will help you."
Jordan had no idea who the father of the child was, but he did as Bellatrix said.
Voltaire became quite ill with a magical fever and seemed on the brink of death. He recovered, but not wanting to take any chances, Bella brought another fertile witch to Voldemort, little more than a child really, and the despot was once again delighted. Bella picked the best witches. He brutalized the young witch, possessing her unmercifully as Bella watched. Once again, Bella took the young witch in, nurtured her throughout her pregnancy, then killed her the same way she did Patricia…the moment the cord was cut. Bella was a bit disappointed Volaria was a girl child, but there could be a Dark Lady as well as a Dark Lord, and she needed a back-up child in case anything happened to Voltaire.
When Voltaire turned eighteen months, Bella took him from Jordan and put him in her own rooms. She began to teach him a disregard for life immediately…showing him first how to kill small animals, nifflers in cages by stabbing them with a long pointed metal dowel.
"See the blood, Voltaire. Make lots and lots of blood my sweet," she'd croon, rewarding him with hugs and kisses for his brutal actions. When it came time to educate Voltaire, he was home schooled by the witch, who utilized her memories of Hogwarts in pensieves as a guide. Of course, there were no muggle studies. She also made sure that Voltaire knew he was royalty and better than anyone else and to hate muggles and muggle-borns. But she also taught him to fear his father and never seek him out.
"Your father knows you will be greater than he ever was, and so will kill you to keep his throne, but that throne belongs to you, Voltaire. The throne and all the power that goes with it. I will help you when the time comes, and I will help you rule. I will be your Queen and your Protector," she told him.
Bella also interacted with Volaria, though she immediately found out the witch did not have the proper temperament to be a despot. Volaria cried when Bella forced her to kill animals. The child abhorred violence. But Bella found out early on that Volaria could do wandless magic when in a fit of temper she threw her palm toward the niffler cage and dashed it against the wall, killing all the animals anyway. She was only five at the time.
"Such power," Bella breathed.
She continued to work with the witch, but found her rebellious. Rather than punish Volaria herself, she allowed Voltaire to torment her psychologically, calling her weak, pathetic and stupid at every opportunity, especially when she hedged at doing something cruel…which usually made her do it, just to prove him wrong and show him she was as strong as he was.
When it was time for the Final Battle, Bellatrix did not participate and instead hid in the secret fortress…so when the Death Eaters were rounded up…she was not among them. Word had it that she had been killed, her body completely destroyed and that erroneous information suited Bellatrix just fine. She remained in hiding, working on Voltaire, showing him pensieves of his father's brutal acts and asking him if he thought he could do better. Voltaire always assured her he could.
Not all the Death Eaters were sent to Azkaban. Some swore they didn't participate in the battle and if they weren't caught there, very little could be done. The better known criminal Death Eaters such as Peter Pettigrew hid themselves, having prepared for the eventuality that Voldemort might fall, forming an underground network of cells supported by the free Death Eaters. Severus might have been used to round up this group of criminals, but he wasn't…because of Bellatrix. Several years ago, Bellatrix had cornered him at a revel and took him aside.
"Severus, I have information that proves you are a spy for the Order," she said to the wizard as cries and screams of the tortured and dying reverberated all around them, covering their conversation.
Severus leveled his dark eyes on her soberly and said, "Those rumors have circulated for ages, Bella. The Dark Lord knows I am his most loyal servant."
"This is not rumor, Severus…but fact. Information I extracted from an Order member as I hacked his limbs off one by one. He swore an oath that all he said was true before I clove his head from his limbless body," she hissed. "He would not have been able to do that if it wasn't so."
The truth was Bella had no such information, just a suspicion that she decided to present as truth.
"All I need do is give the Dark Lord a pensieve of the events, and you are a dead man," she said to the wizard. "But, if you are willing to grant me a service, I will take an oath never to reveal this truth to him. Ever."
Severus' eyes washed over Bella. The witch could see death in them.
"Don't try it, Severus. If you kill me, the Dark Lord will still kill you. I am his favorite. Your position will not still his hand. You have not been providing the best of information lately," she said warningly.
Severus' face contorted.
"What kind of service, witch?" he asked her.
"I need the formula for Voldemort's elixir, but need it adapted to different stages of strength so it can be fed diluted to a child, its strength increased as the child draws closer to adulthood," she whispered to the wizard.
"A child! The elixir would kill a child," Severus said, frowning at her.
"Diluted! With instructions on how to increase its strength in increments," Bellatrix hissed at him, "Something a tolerance could be built up for. Anyway, if the child dies, that has nothing to do with you. I need that formula Severus. If you do not give it to me, I will inform Voldemort of your treachery right now. Give me an oath you will deliver the formula and the instructions how it is brewed. Now!"
Severus had no idea what twisted ends Bellatrix was working toward, but he gave her his oath, received hers in turn and informed Albus of her extortion as soon as he could. The Headmaster looked quite worried.
"We must find out what Bellatrix is about, Severus. Now you have two jobs…to keep me apprised of Voldemort's plans and to find out what Bellatrix LeStrange is up to…before the Final Battle occurs," he instructed Severus.
But that was easier said than done. Bella was very careful. Once, Severus managed to place a tracking spell on her, but when she disapparated, her signature showed up in over one hundred places in different parts of the world simultaneously, then faded out immediately. She had some kind of splaying spell on her person and was impossible to track. The dead Spellmaster had created it for her, so she would be able to hide her charges and not be traced. Yet she could still feel Voldemort's summons, and never failed to appear when he called for her. Since the Dark Lord believed Bella was truly the Death Eater most dedicated to him, never once did he consider she would betray him, which only goes to prove that men…even despots…can be great fools when it comes to women.
If Voldemort hadn't died, Bella would have set Voltaire on him to fight for the throne. Bella knew many secrets about his father and would have educated the young wizard thoroughly on the Dark Lord's weaknesses. The elixir would afford him great protection. But, Voldemort had been killed and the throne left vacant, ripe for the pickings.
With Voldemort's death, the wizarding world believed the worst was over…but neither Albus nor Severus believed Bellatrix was dead, and that she was up to something horrible. If they removed all the Death Eaters, she might not surface. It was a terrible choice, since the Death Eaters continued to kidnap, torture and kill muggles and muggle-borns, though they were much lower key. Those taken were never found again. Gone were the days of leaving bodies about as a warning to others. These Death Eaters killed quietly, hatefully and without the need for acknowledgement which made them even more dangerous than when under Voldemort.
Both Albus and Severus believed Bellatrix was grooming another despot, and she had to be found and stopped before the child was old enough to rise to power. Judging by when Bella approached Severus, if the child was alive then, he or she would between fifteen and seventeen years old…almost an adult. They had no idea there were two children.
Draco Malfoy had turned to Albus in his sixth year and told him he did not want to serve Voldemort, but was going to be forced into his service. Albus made him the same offer he made Professor Snape years ago, to be a spy for the Order and help bring the Dark Lord down. Draco agreed and was given to Severus to train in the ways of deception, beginning with Occlumency, which was most important. Draco showed a great aptitude for it, much better than Harry, but then again, his life and the life of the Potions Master depended on his abilities, and this was enough impetus to make him an expert at hiding his thoughts and memories in a very short while.
Teaching Draco to hide his emotions was another story. Severus brought him to the Room of Requirement and forced him to relive his own amplified memories of revel after revel until he was able to watch the most depraved and horrible acts without any outward reaction. At first, Draco threw up a lot. A bucket had to be placed near him, and Severus had to restrain him in a chair to keep him from bolting from the room as he watched the mutilation and murder of men, women and children, witches, wizards, muggles, muggle-borns and out of favor purebloods. Voldemort didn't care who he killed.
There were whispers around Hogwarts that Draco was dying, the young wizard was always so pale and weak looking those early days. But he soon grew stoic. He had to. At his first revel, he did his father proud, though he didn't participate. He told his father he wasn't ready to perform sexually in front of people, and Lucius understood. The ability had to be learned. But he was very proud Draco didn't pale or throw up at the carnage…very few new Death Eaters walked away from a revel unaffected. The boy was stronger than he ever dreamed, and he boasted about him to anyone who would listen. Even the Dark Lord was impressed.
"You are a strong one, Draco," the Dark Lord lisped at him. "You will be most valuable in my ranks. You have the makings of a raider."
A raider was a Death Eater that invaded homes and slaughtered families. Luckily, when Draco was inducted into the raider ranks, he was able to warn Albus of the targets and they were protected in one way or another. The ways always differed, so no suspicion was cast on Draco. He saved many lives.
Because of Bellatrix, when the time for the Final Battle came, both Draco and Severus did not participate. In Draco's case, his father provided him the cover. If they both died, there would be no heir and their estate would die. So Lucius made Draco stay at the Manor to make sure the bloodline would continue. His mother Narcissa fought by his father's side until they both were overcome and captured. Severus simply told the others when he saw the battle turning, he escaped before he was captured, and since no one could prove he was involved, he was not arrested.
Having Voldemort's mark alone was not enough to have a person sent to Azkaban. Due process required that it had to be proven they had broken the law, and veritaserum was not allowed to be used in interrogation or the courtroom since it was discovered false information could be placed in a witch's or wizard's mind through an altered form of Legilimency. Veritaserum-induced confessions became worthless in the eyes of the law. There had to be witnesses who saw them unmasked, and when most Death Eaters did their dirt, they kept their masks on and left no witnesses if they could help it.
Shortly after Voldemort's death, there were rumors that Bellatrix had shown up at various Death Eater gatherings, telling others that the Dark Lord was not dead would return. Severus and Draco had yet to find her at a meeting…but whenever they got wind of one, or a revel, they were required to go, watch and mingle. This meant spending time in the homes of their dark comrades for days and weeks, the revels moving like parties from home to home. Most of the time they were forced to witness continued atrocities against the innocent, unable to do anything that might cast suspicion on them besides mercifully killing the victims. What made this worse was that both Draco and Severus had hoped at least this aspect of the Dark Lord's influence had ended, and it hadn't. The fact that it continued as they stood idly by wore on their very souls. They felt less than human when they returned to their regular lives, and sought the solace of their witches at the first opportunity, letting their love soothe and heal them for the time being…before they were forced to go back again.
Severus lay spooned around Hermione in her four-poster bed, his chin resting on top of her head, the wizard sleeping peacefully for the first time in a month. He had managed to get back to her as he promised and was thankful for that. Hermione's presence seemed to drive away the nightmares that plagued him when he was alone, giving him the illusion of peace that he so desperately needed in order to continue.
In the Manor also, Draco slept with one arm flung possessively over Malina, his rest easy and undisturbed. She too drove away his demons. She was his shield against the things hidden and railing in the dark.
But the two wizards were in danger of losing what they held most dear if they didn't find out where Bella was hiding soon. Both Severus and Draco shifted in their sleep at the same moment, pulling their witches closer, unwilling to let them go.
A/N: All right. I think I've covered the basic history and conflict, why Death Eaters are still around, what Severus and Draco are up to, and why they are so desperate for their women when they return. Bellatrix LeStrange is absolutely horrible in this story. She deserves to die a very nasty death. Brrrrr. Thanks for reading.