To Skies No Eyes Have Seen

Chapter 1 – Arrival at the Port

It was rare to find Hermione Granger out and about without a book at hand, but it was even more rare to find her on her way to the market, a good half hour's walk from home. It was usually her mother who would go shop and gossip with the other women, but for some odd reason her mother did not feel like going today.

Somehow, her mother had convinced her – no, it was more that she cajoled her – into running errands. Of course, Hermione would have done it if her mother had only asked instead of going the roundabout way, but that was beside the point. Her mother wanted her out of the house, and Hermione was not convinced that it was so that she could "have some bit of fresh air," as her mother put it.

It being a sunny day, Hermione had wanted to bring one of her books with her so that she could sit somewhere on the grassy plain and enjoy the sunshine, but her mother would not have it. Instead, she shoved a basket, a list, and a pouch full of coins onto the curly-haired girl and shooed her away.

So Hermione decided to take her time. She didn't disagree that she needed the air, and she also felt that it was good to take in the scenery once in a while. Good weather was somewhat of a rarity in these parts and even in this season. They would usually have rain and a few storms, so it was a blessing to have even one spot of sunlight.

With the basket in hand and the list and pouch of coins in her pocket, she walked along the dirt road that led straight to the marketplace. The wind blew her brown curls lightly, and the sunlight was warm on her skin. Her brown eyes scanned the scenery before her: grassy fields on her right and the cliffs on the left. She could hear the pounding of the ocean waves from below and enjoyed the sound. It was very calming, and the smell of the ocean was rejuvenating.

Hermione spotted something in the corner of her eye and turned to look at it. At the same time, the wind picked up, blowing her curly brown hair into her face. When she parted her hair and held it to the side, she squinted at the object floating over the water.

It was almost hard to see, but Hermione could tell from the way it flew and the general shape that it was a small airship. From the looks of it, it was quite old. The balloon was different in color in some places, which probably meant that it had taken damage and was patched up with different kinds of material. There was a long dark gondola underneath it and many propellers all around. Hermione tried to make out the logo on the balloon, but it had so many repairs that the logo was covered by the patches. Then the airship flew behind the cliffs, disappearing from her view.

She wondered what such a thing was doing out over the water by itself. Small airships tended to band together and were usually used to dispatch people from a bigger airship. From where Hermione was, there weren't any big ones in sight. In addition, the only ones that were supposed to be active were the ones used by the government. It didn't seem like that lone ship was one of them. Government airships wouldn't have such a poorly patched up balloon.

The only probable reason Hermione could think of was that it was a pirate airship, but she refused to acknowledge that. Pirates weren't known to gather around here, and they certainly had no reason to. The winds were particularly strong, and the weather was known to be quite hazardous, turning ugly in the blink of an eye.

It had been ten years since the Great War. The memories were still fresh in people's minds. It all began with a disagreement with a neighboring country over resources and land. Soon it spiraled out of control, and before they knew it, a war had broken out. After several long years of fighting, Hermione's country had won. However, there was extensive damage on the opposing side, and most areas were deemed uninhabitable. With damaged homes and nothing to go back to, many of the soldiers had gone into hiding in her country. Most of them, however, banded together and became pirates, scrounging around for whatever they could find.

An ominous-looking black cloud in the distance snapped Hermione out of her thoughts. She realized she'd better finish her errands before the weather became worse. With one last glance at the ocean, Hermione turned to continue her trek to the marketplace. She shook her head, getting rid of all thoughts and possibilities of the airship being a pirate one. It just wasn't possible. However, if she happened to be wrong and the airship was a pirate ship, she hoped that they wouldn't make an appearance in town.

Hermione had just arrived at the marketplace when the sky was beginning to grey. Some of the travelling shops were also beginning to pack up and close for the day.. She saw some new faces here and there, and she could tell that they were concerned about the bad weather. The others that were more accustomed to this place's weather remained open. Some of them greeted Hermione while others beckoned her to their booth. She waved at them in greeting but walked further into the marketplace.

She took out the paper from her pocket and scanned down the list as she walked. There was a particular booth where she knew she could buy most of the items for cheap, and she also knew the shopkeeper. He was a strange fellow of sorts and had an interest in odd and exotic animals, but Hermione knew him to be an honest, good natured man. She had known him ever since she was a little girl.

" 'Ello thur!" she heard a voice call out.

Hermione looked up to see Rubeus Hagrid's huge figure leaning over the counter of his booth to wave at her. She smiled and waved at him until she saw two figures standing near the counter, which made her stop in her tracks. Her eyes widened as she saw two men in grey uniform turn to greet her, one with hair the color of fire and the other with messy raven-colored hair.

"Harry! Ron!" she gasped as she ran to give them both a hug. They laughed as she practically flung herself onto them. How could she not? They were her best friends; they had grown up together. The last time she saw them was a few months ago when they left town to go to their training at a military base located right outside the Capital.

"Blimey, Hermione. No need to get teary eyed. We haven't been gone that long," teased Ron.

She wrinkled her nose at him and playfully punched him on the arm.

"You guys! You could have at least told me that you were coming back to visit!" she said. "Your last letter said that you were still going to be training at the Capital and couldn't come home for at least a few more weeks."

Harry pushed his glasses up. They had slipped down the bridge of his nose when Hermione hugged them. His green eyes sparkled as he laughed. "We also thought that we would still be training at the Capital, but we were suddenly transferred to a nearby base. We're only here to gather up supplies though."

Hermione grew sad. So they were only here on business.

Ron quickly spoke up. "But we're free tonight, right, Harry? We just arrived today, and we're still settling down." He elbowed the bespectacled boy.

"Oh, yeah. That's right," Harry recovered while massaging the spot Ron hit. "We can catch up and all."

"Over supper," Hagrid added. All three of them turned to him, and he winked at Hermione, who giggled in return.

"Yes! Over supper," Ron grinned. "How about it, Hermione?"

She smiled sadly at them. "I would love that, but I actually have to go to work after I buy the groceries." She put her basked down on the counter and handed the list over to Hagrid. He nodded as he scanned through it while turning around to gather the items. When he faced them with the all the items in one arm, he carefully arranged them in her basket.

Ron looked a little disheartened and kicked the dirt in front of him. Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"But…we can catch up tomorrow if you guys are free," she suggested meekly.

Ron instantly brightened up, and Harry smiled.

"Yeah, we'll be free then," Ron said.

Hermione smiled brightly at them.

A drop of rain fell onto Harry's glasses, and he took them off to wipe it off. He looked up at the sky and frowned as they all felt the raindrops start to fall.

"You blokes better get going before the weather worsens," Hagrid said as he handed the basket full of items to Hermione. She took it from him and was almost dragged down by the weight of it. It was heavier than usual. When she looked under the blanket and scanned through the items, she saw that Hagrid added a few of his homemade rock cakes. She looked back up at him, and he winked at her.

"Well, it was good to see you guys, but I'd better get this finished quickly so that - "

Before she could say anything more, Ron took the heavy basket from Hermione's arms, lifting it easily. Harry, meanwhile, took the list back from Hagrid and now began to look it over. Hermione began to protest, but Harry held up his hand.

"We haven't seen you in months, so let us take care of this. It'll be faster if all three of us gather supplies so we can get back in one piece," Harry said.

"Yeah. We also brought the automobile with us, so we'll give you a ride home," Ron grinned.

Hermione smiled gratefully at them.

All three of them set out to gather the supplies both for Hermione and for the base. Of course, the boys had to get a lot more than Hermione. It was more than what they could fit in their car, but they told her that they would have it delivered to the base.

As the rain started to pick up, they all clambered into the car after they put some of the items in the back. Hermione had her basket in her lap since the back and the seats next to her were too full. The weight of the basket felt like it was cutting off circulation to her legs, but she didn't say anything to them.

As the car made its way speedily to her house, they started to joke around and reminisce about their childhood, and they laughed so much that they their stomachs started to hurt. They stopped since Ron was driving and their jokes distracted him.

In the corner of her mind, Hermione wondered if her mother had known about the boys' arrival and had planned this. She suspected that the woman would have gotten her information from the other wives of the town. Then again, it was most likely one of her mother's matchmaking plans once again. She had once tried getting Hermione and Harry together, but soon relented once Hermione had conveyed to her that she and Harry were more like siblings than lovers. When the woman had suggested Ron, Hermione flat out refused. Although…thinking back on it, she probably refused a little too strongly, because after that her mother had tried to set them both up.

Hermione shook her head. That woman wouldn't give up until she had grandchildren.

It was not like she didn't like Ron. She found him charming. He was funny, thoughtful, and loyal, and he never hesitated when sticking up for his friends and beliefs. He was also very lazy and sometimes unmotivated, but he tried his best when the time called for it. She wouldn't have minded going out with him, but the thought of…well, marriage with the redhead was…it felt awkward. Hermione felt like their relationship lacked something. It lacked a spark. She also yearned for some kind of sign that would tell her that "yes, he's the one."

Then again, that was only her wishful thinking. Those things only happened in her books. It was not like the guy she was hoping for was going to walk in unannounced, and she would know right then and there that he was the one.

It also didn't matter if her mother had planned this or not. Hermione was just glad to see her two best friends again. This day had made her happier than the days when she was alone with only her books and her mother to keep her company.

Their arrival also came as a surprise to Hermione's mother, who welcomed them with open arms and plates of food for the boys. Hermione watched her mother as she scrambled around to hastily clean the house. She genuinely seemed surprised, which meant that she didn't know of the boys' coming. It also meant that she wanted Hermione out of the house for an entirely different reason. When her mother had passed by her, something underneath the sleeves caught her eye. So when her mother disappeared into the kitchen, Hermione followed.

"Hermione! Get the roast out of the fridge, will you? This is a happy day, a happy day indeed. We must celebrate!" her mother said happily as she prepared the kettle and turned the stove on.

"They're not staying for supper, mother," Hermione replied as she leaned against the door with her arms crossed. "They just arrived today, and I'm sure they would like to unpack and settle down. They also have their supplies to deliver back to the base."

Her mother waved it off with a hand. "Nonsense. They can unpack later. Surely, they can have a bite to eat before leaving." The sleeve of her dress was pulled back a bit, and Hermione could now clearly see the discoloration on her wrists.

She crossed the room quickly and gently reached out to grab her mother's arm. Her mother didn't protest and stared at her quietly as Hermione peeled back the sleeves to reveal black and blue bruises which traveled up the woman's arm. Hermione sucked in a breath as her brown eyes travelled to each bruise.

"When did they come?" Hermione asked quietly. Her mother faced away from her. She tried to take back her arm, but Hermione did not let go. "When?" She repeated.

"This afternoon."

Hermione winced. That was when she was out at the marketplace.

"Why didn't you tell me they were coming?"

"I didn't want to worry you…" her mother trailed off. Her eyes started to glass over.

"It worries me even more if they hurt you," Hermione hugged her mother, who started to cry almost immediately.

Things were hard for them. The war was hard on them. Many places had been damaged during the war, Hermione's town included, and the people were still struggling to rebuild and recover. Many had been so desperate that they became pirates, joining the very people they were fighting against. Hermione refused to be reduced to that level, and she tried her best every day to make sure they had enough money.

After Hermione's father died in the war and her mother fell ill, it became increasingly difficult for them to afford things, and they were forced to take out loans. Sometimes, men would come to demand the money, and Hermione was almost always the one to persuade them to give them time. She was already working multiple jobs. On some days, she would teach at a local school, and on some nights like tonight, she would work at a local bar. On weekends, she would do a number of odd jobs, each of them mentally and physically draining. She didn't earn that much, but it was all she could do to keep them from living out on the streets.

"I miss him so much, Hermione," her mother cried. Hermione stroked her hair.

"I know, mother."

There was a creak of the floorboards. Hermione turned her head to see that both her friends stood at the entrance of the kitchen. They looked guilty to have heard their conversation. Hermione mouthed an apology to them, but they smiled reassuringly at her.

Her mother noticed their presence and broke away from her embrace, quickly wiping away her tears. "Goodness, I'm sorry for the show. You boys must be hungry, right?"

Harry shook his head. "That's all right, Mrs. Granger. We'd better get going anyway. Ron would like to go and greet his family first before we head back to the base."

"Yeah. If it's okay with you, we'd also like to drop off Hermione at her work, seeing the rain's going to only get worse and it's not right for her to be walking there in it," Ron piped up. Harry looked pointedly at him as if to say that his suggestion was inappropriate and untimely, but Ron sheepishly smiled at him.

Mrs. Granger sniffed as she looked at her daughter. "That's right. You still have work, dear. Well, it's all right by me. You three had better get going," she shooed them away. Ron and Harry went ahead, but Hermione stayed back.

"Will you be all right?" she asked.

Her mother grinned. "Your mother still has some fight left in her. I'll hold down the fort. You just worry about your work, dear."

Hermione smiled at the gesture and hugged her mother goodbye. "Stay safe," she whispered. Then she let go and followed the boys out, grabbing her shoulder bag on the way out.

"Hermione, we - "

"It's all right," she interrupted. "We're slowly paying everything back, so it should be fine. We haven't had as many come to the house these days. Don't worry about it so much." The looks on their faces told her that they weren't convinced.

"If there's anything we can do to help you and your mum - " Ron began to say.

"Don't," she said sternly. "Listen, guys. It's all right. If I keep working, it'll be all right." She bit her tongue when she almost added the word "eventually."

Although she appreciated their concern and their offerings of help, Hermione knew that she would never ask them for any money. She couldn't. Harry was an orphan, so he didn't have much to begin with. Ron had a big family who needed every bit they could get. She couldn't impose on her friends. It wasn't right.

The ride to the local pub was different than the ride to her house. It was quiet, awkward. Hermione tried to lighten the mood several times, but the conversation would always die. Then they would sit in silence again.

When they arrived at the pub, it was already pouring. Hermione didn't want to let them linger any longer, so she thanked them for the ride and smiled reassuringly. They both agreed to see her the next morning for breakfast before they were called on duty. They tried to offer their help once again, but she dismissed them and told them it was going to be all right like she always said.

After that, Hermione jumped out of the car and ran as fast as she could to the entrance of the pub. The old wooden door creaked on its hinges as Hermione quickly entered and shut it. Almost immediately, the smells of alcohol and various foods welcomed her. She sighed as she put on the best professional smile she could as she made her way over to the counter.

On her way, she was greeted by various men. She recognized some faces, but the others she didn't know. Many of these men catcalled and winked at her. A few were so bold as to reach out and make a grab at her, but Hermione elusively danced out of their grasp. She was used to this sort of thing and had learned how to handle such men.

When she got to the counter, she was greeted by Rosmerta, the owner of the pub. She was a kind lady who looked very young and was very pretty but was actually middle-aged. Still, many of the men who frequented the bar often made passes at her.

Hermione nodded to her. "How are things here?"

Rosmerta smiled. "Oh, same old, same old. Just the same old drunks. Nothing out of the ordinary."

A customer waved at her, and she went to go attend to them. Hermione, meanwhile, grabbed an apron and a handkerchief, which she used to tie back her curly hair. Then she went to go attend to the other customers, taking their orders and putting on her best professional smile. After tolerating all the flirtatious men and their suggestive words, Hermione was finally able to take their orders and escape the customers to hide behind the counter, where she prepared various drinks and food. She may have been used to her work, but she was still very cautious around them.

After a few minutes, Lavender Brown, one of the other waitresses who was known to be quite flirty and clingy, approached the bar. She placed her elbows on the counter and leaned over.

"So I hear that Harry and Ron are back in town, am I right?" she began, cutting to the chase. Her tone suggested that she already knew they were here and didn't need Hermione's confirmation. She had only wanted to start a conversation, which meant that she needed something from Hermione.

She raised an eyebrow. "Yes, they are."

Lavender's eyes wandered around aimlessly. "That's good. They haven't been back in months. Did you see them?"

"I saw them a little while ago, actually," Hermione said as she turned around to reach for one of the clean glasses on the shelf. "They dropped me off before heading back to the base."

"Oh, I wish I could have seen them in their uniform. Men always look good in uniform," Lavender sighed, most likely daydreaming about Ron in his uniform.

Hermione knew that the girl fancied the redhead. It was obvious from before that her eyes would watch his every move and would giggle whenever he'd look her way. It seemed like Ron didn't notice her glances or her flirtatious smirks, and if he had, he probably wasn't interested.

"They looked all right in them, I guess," she shrugged. She didn't really take a good look at them since she was still trying to get over the fact that they were there.

"I thought they would be. But I wish they hadn't used that dreary shade of grey," Lavender made a face. Hermione wanted to say that the color didn't matter and almost commented on the girl's questionable fashion sense, but she held herself back.

All of a sudden, the door burst open to reveal a caped man. Some of the men in the pub stopped what they were doing, but others carried on as if nothing happened. The pub had its share of shady and mysterious guests, so a few cloaked men were no strangers here. The caped man stepped inside. His heavy boots clanked with each step as he headed for the open table, which happened to be in the middle of the room. Not once did he take off his hood.

As Hermione continued to prepare the orders, she glanced around the room. The other waitresses were busy attending to other customers or were…entertaining them. Rosmerta looked over in her direction and gestured to the caped man, silently telling her to take his order. Hermione was still busy preparing her customers' order, so she glanced down at the only other waitress available only to see that she was staring pleadingly at her.

Hermione looked pointedly at her.

"Don't make me go over there," Lavender whispered, staring at the man wearily. "Something doesn't feel right about him."

Hermione rolled her eyes and could have snorted. They got suspicious looking men all the time. This one was no different. If anything, he was less shady than the usual people they dealt with. Lavender had even attended to a few suspicious-looking people before. But when Hermione looked down at the food she was preparing and then over to the table she was in charge of, she saw that the men at the table were sending flirtatious looks to Lavender and that she was responding back to them. Then the girl had the audacity to turn back to Hermione and give her a look that said, "Why are you still here? Go attend to your customer."

After seeing how adamant Lavender was, Hermione sighed frustratingly and handed the girl the order to take to the customers. She wiped her hands on her apron and then grabbed a notepad and a pen. She walked around the counter, passing Lavender who shot her a grateful smile.

As she approached his table, she noticed that the man was positioned in a way that no one had a chance to glance underneath his cloak. He sat lazily in his chair with his legs stretched out under the table, but his cloak continued to cover most of his body. He didn't even turn to acknowledge her.

"Welcome," Hermione said, "Would you like anything to drink?"

"The strongest you have," he replied in a low deep voice. A shiver ran down Hermione's spine, but she pushed it away.

She nodded. "And to eat?"

"That's all," he said dismissively.

"I'll be back in a moment then," Hermione said in her most professional voice as she turned to walk back to the counter. She intended to have a word with Lavender and her laziness only to see that the waitress had disappeared from where Hermione last saw her. Looking around, she saw that she was perched on a customer's lap, laughing at some joke he told.

She shook her head as she went to prepare the man's drink and tried to keep her temper down as much as she could. When the drink was ready, she brought it to him, setting it on the table quietly.

"Let me know if there's anything else you would like to order," she said as she turned to leave. Her eyes set on Lavender, intending to give that girl a stern lecture. If she was lucky, she would even get the chance to smack her.

Suddenly, his gloved hand shot out from underneath his cloak and encircled her wrist. His grip was firm enough to keep her from leaving. Hermione turned around slowly to look at him with narrowed eyes.

"Was there something else?" she asked cautiously. His grip loosened enough for her to slip through. She held her wrist to her chest, massaging it. His touch was like fire to her, but he did not once look up at her. Instead, he drew out a crumpled photo and slid it towards her. She took it and held it before her, making sure to keep an eye on the newcomer.

The photo was frayed and discolored in some places, but the picture was still clear. It was an old black and white photo with a crowd of men and women posing formally in front of an airship. The logo on the ship was scratched out as if deliberate. One thing that Hermione had noticed was that the face of each man and women were crossed out with a tiny X. Only one was left untouched.

It was a man that stood in the middle of the crowd, and from the way he was positioned and the way he dressed, Hermione instantly figured out that he was the leader. His long face was serious, and his light colored hair was long. She guessed that it was long enough to reach his back, but she couldn't really tell from the photo. He was dressed warmly with a light colored scarf that was tucked into his jacket. He looked like a pilot.

"I need information on this man," the newcomer asked quietly.

Something in Hermione's head clicked, and she realized that she was most likely speaking to an assassin of some kind. It would explain all the red X's on these peoples' faces. She decided to be truthful to him.

She shook her head. "I have never seen this man. We get a lot of folks here who conceal their identities, like yourself, so it is possible that he might have come here without revealing himself." She handed him back the picture, which he took and stowed it away in his pocket.

She was about to turn around and walk away when he pulled another item from his pocket. This time, it was a piece of paper.

"And this symbol? Have you seen it?"

She took the piece of paper from his hand and stared at it. It was a picture of a black skull with a snake emerging from its mouth and an intricately drawn circle around the whole picture. Hermione sucked in a breath when she realized what the symbol indicated, having seen it in the news and in books. It was the symbol used by the opposing side – the losing side – during the Great War. The Dark Mark.

She let go as if it had burned her. He swiped it from where it landed and stuffed it into his pocket.

"I take it that you have."

She stared at him for a few minutes before gathering her wits. He, on the other hand, went about lazily tracing the rim of the glass.

"Not around here, and not in ten years. But I know that any ship with that symbol is shot down before it reaches this port, and any person with that symbol is turned over to the military. I assure you, sir, that I have not seen anyone or anything that bears that mark," she replied.

He gave a low chuckle, which sent chills down her spine. She crossed her arms protectively and took a tiny step back from the man.

"If you say so, I will take your word for it." With that, he took a big swig of his drink, finishing it off in one setting. He set the glass down and started to stand, but he staggered, the punch of the drink hitting him. Obviously, he was not expecting how strong of a drink it was.

Instinctively, Hermione reached out and grabbed his arm to steady him. In return, his gloved hand grabbed her elbow as he tried to steady himself. He almost crashed into another table and onto another customer, one that was known to be hotheaded and always ready for a fight. It wouldn't do this newcomer any good if he had started a fight with that drunkard.

At the same time that she grabbed his arm, she accidentally pushed up the sleeve of his cotton shirt and saw the edge of a tattoo located in the middle of his arm. Her eyes lingered on it before she nervously brought her eyes to his.

Steel grey eyes stared back at her from underneath the hood, studying her carefully. They narrowed slightly as he pulled down his sleeve to cover the tattoo. He pried his arm from her grasp and withdrew it underneath his cloak. When he pushed his cloak aside, Hermione got a good look at the dagger on his right side and gulped. His right hand lingered on the handle of the weapon as if contemplating on whether or not to unsheathe it. He thought better of it because he reached into his pocket and put his money on the table, keeping his gaze on her. At the same time, Hermione found that she couldn't look away, shocked at what she had just discovered.

No one had noticed this little interaction between them.

She thought he was going to do something as he stepped towards her, and she unconsciously took a step back. Instead, he slowly walked around her and swiftly made his way around the tables and drunkards. He took one last look at her before opening the door and exiting.

Hermione's hands started to shake slightly as she took the money, got out a rag, and cleaned the table, preparing it for the next customer. She tried to remain composed as she took the empty glass and strode over to the bar, her thoughts still on the tattoo.

Rosmerta studied the curly-haired girl as she handed her a glass of water. "Are you all right, dear? You look awfully pale."

Hermione forced a smile to reassure her as she put the money into the cash register. "I'm fine. I've just been feeling a little tired. I think I'm going to take a break in the backroom for a bit." The pub owner nodded, not questioning it.

Hermione untied the apron around her waist and hung it up on the closest hanger. She also grabbed one of her books out of her bag. She knew that she would get no reading done during that time, but she took it instinctively as she made her way to the back of the pub. It took all she could to keep from running. The backroom was a rather small room with a square table and some benches, but it served as a good break room away from all the drunks and the noise. Once she was there, she saw that the room was empty. She plopped down on the bench and propped her elbows on the table, burying her face in her hands. She let out a long breath.

As Hermione sat there with thoughts on what could have been or what should have done, her heart began to race, and her fear started to sink in.

She had seen something she wasn't supposed to see.

She had seen the Dark Mark on that man's arm, and he definitely knew that she saw it.

Out of all people, she had to be the one to serve that man. If she had known what was going to happen, she would have been more persistent on Lavender serving him. Or maybe she would have let the man fall onto the drunkard, causing a fight.

There was no doubt in her mind that he was going to return even if that meant coming back to make sure she kept silent. Permanently. People who bore the Dark Mark were known to be ruthless and violent, especially to their enemies. He was most likely no different. He knew where she worked and would most likely find out where she lived. He could even be waiting outside the pub at this very moment! Hermione shook her head in her hands, not believing what had just happened.

Things got a whole lot worse for her now.

To Be Continued…

Author's Note

Hello, everyone! Thanks for reading until the end! This is my first time writing a Harry Potter fanfic, and I hope I can finish it to the end. I just want to mention that this story is AU, so there's no magic. I'm curious as to how far I can take this, and I hope you all will enjoy it! Please tell me what you think!

Big thanks to my beta, Divya Omnoms!