The proposals began coming through as soon as I left Malfoy Manor. Even though I started reading through them, I can not come to terms with the idea of choosing one or accepting a stranger's proposal. Women are offering me everything I could possibly want as means of persuasion- wealth, servitude, a house of nothing but rooms for potions, sexual promises. But all these offers just make my stomach roll. Call me arrogant, but I think I deserve more than becoming some object auctioned off to the highest bidder.

It doesn't take more than a few hundred before I decide to burn the rest going forward. Each letter is vulgar and degrading.

The week is dragging on. I throw myself into my work and purposely assign the students extra assignments in an effort to keep me from having a spare second. It helps, but when I'm not grading essays, my mind begins to wander to the stack of letters that keeps accumulating in my fireplace.

During my recovery and trial, I could feel my walls struggling to stay up. The nightmares were a nightly occurrence. As my innocence was declared and things started to get back to normal, they subsided to a couple of times a week and now they are only once a week or so. Every night since the arrival of that Prophet, my nightmares have come back in full force. I am tired, irritable, and people are starting to notice.

My anxiety tempts to get the better of me every time I overhear conversations during meals or passing through the corridors. Teachers and students alike are always discussing it. And people think it is appropriate to try to discuss it with me. Argus wanted to question me in passing one day and Septima tried to bring it up at dinner. I shut every attempt down instantaneously. Even handing out detentions and docking points from the houses ruthlessly isn't easing my stress.

A few days after my meeting with Lucius, Minerva calls me into her office. She and I have come a long way since the war ended. We are not really friends, but we are amicable enough. Most of the time, I feel like can trust her. I think on some level she understands how wrong it was of Albus to use me, so I can tell she tries not to manipulating me. But the meeting she has called is on short notice and it makes me suspicious.

"Severus, please have a seat." She offers casually enough, so I sit back comfortably to pretend this is a social call. Behind her desk, Albus smiles with his twinkling eyes like he knows what is about to happen.

"So let's talk about this new law," she commands forcefully. You have to hand it to her- the woman doesn't beat around the bush. But I purposely keep quiet, so she says, "No response? Well, then I will ask. Who are you going to marry?"

I am a little taken aback by the witch's forwardness, but I suppose the Headmistress has more important things to attend to than this.

"No one." I reply calmly and coolly. Her pursed lips tell me that I am about to get reprimanded like when I was a lad and she was merely my transfiguration teacher.

"Severus Tobias Snape," she warns in a low voice. I narrow my eyes and hold back a flinch at her use of my full name as she continues on. "You know as well as I do, you need to find someone. You are bound by this law like everyone else." Her words turn my anxiety into irritation.

"I don't see how that is really any of your business, Headmistress," I snap spitefully with added emphasis to the 'Headmistress' part.

"Well, then let me enlighten you," she counters sarcastically as her eyebrows raise slightly. "Your spouse will undoubtedly need access to the castle as you are under contract to remain on the grounds during the school year. Along with access to your own personal quarters, I will also need to make arrangements for her to Floo back and forth from her job, expand your private quarters, and when the time comes, determine necessary adjustments to your schedule for care of your future offspring. Therefore, as your boss and Headmistress of the school you are under contract for, I can assure you it is most certainly my business to know the woman with whom you will be sharing your quarters with."

"The woman who will be sharing my quarters," I repeat in mockery. I put my hand on my chin and say, "Tell me, Minerva, what kind would you like me to take? A lovely little blond who enjoys martini's and sunsets? Maybe I can get a feisty brunette with a talent for baking cookies? Or perhaps a heavy, less attractive beast who won't distract your students?" I make sure to drip every single word in venom to show my distaste for the conversation. But Minerva McGonagall does not back down from a fight that easily.

"I know you, Severus," she points out in a serious voice that is still authoritative, but not really threatening. "I know you are looking for a loophole. Everyone is. There is nothing wrong with that, but you need to face the facts here. You are going to have to marry and produce a child. I know you like your privacy, but am trying to help you."

"Then you should respect my privacy and stop trying to help me." I hate people think I need their help. Twenty years I have been getting along fine by myself, so how can she possibly think I need her now? Besides, I refuse to owe her. I guess that is just another reason why Lucius and I understand each other so well. Debt complicates life.

"I know you don't want any help, but I am offering it none the less." She is firm in her words, but her expression is soft and sincere. I know she is trying to be nice, but it just makes me defensive.

"Well, unless you are proposing to marry me, there is not really anything that you can do." The retort comes out of my mouth faster than I like. It is snide, but it does make me feel better.

"No, I am not offering that," she laughs heartily as the tension breaks. "That would be most inappropriate since I am your boss. Not to mention, we would surely murder each other within the first week." She gives me a smile to add emphasis to her joke.

When I don't return it, she just sighs. "I am only asking what your plan is because I just didn't think you wanted to end up with some stranger you know nothing about. At least if you choose someone, you would know what you are getting yourself into."

We sit staring each other down for a minute. Finally, I exhale tiredly and run my hand through my hair. "I have thought that myself," I confess truthfully. "But there is no one remotely favorable. Besides, who says that the Ministry won't exempt me?"

"While I would love to see that you come out of this on your own terms, I am too much of a realist. Even the Golden Trio of war heroes will be forced into matrimony to keep themselves from ending up with their adoring fans."

I scoff at that comment. "We all know that Potter has been mooning over his little red-headed girlfriend since he rescued her from the Chamber of Secrets all those years ago. It was only a matter of time before they got engaged. Even the other two in that trio have been spotted together by the press. Certainly, none of them are being forced since it is something that would have eventually happened."

"They are too young. No, not too young. They are of age, but they have yet to live. The last several years has forced this generation of children to grow up and become adults. Now is the time they should be able to relax and begin to experience the childhood they missed out on and ease into the adulthood they choose." Speeches like this remind me of how much of a sappy Gryffindor she really is.

"Poor, poor children. Childhood ruined with a child of their own." I smirk at my saucy comment, but quickly get rid of it as Minerva glares at me intently.

"That is not the point and you are avoiding the subject. This isn't about them, this is about you," she responds curtly as she points a finger at me.

"I will be fine, Minerva," I insist in exasperation. Minerva just shakes her head.

"Severus, I know you will be fine. But please promise me something?" Her eyes stare hard into mine. I know that she is about to ask for something awful. "Promise me you will at least think it over. I think you would benefit more from choosing your own partner than letting a lottery choose."

Her statement pushes something inside me. Minerva McGonagall is acting just like Albus Dumbledore. She is trying to manipulate me! I don't have a logical explanation of why she would do this, but my anger has already risen past reason. I stand up quickly and draw myself up to my full height to tower over her.

"I think I will take my chances with the lottery. Good day, Headmistress." I sweep out of the room without a second glance back to see what the effect of my comment was. But I slam the door to reiterate my finality in the situation.

As I make my way to my dungeons, the conversation replays in my mind on repeat. My last statement rings louder and clearer each time. If Lucius fails, would I really be okay with letting some lottery decide my fate instead of taking control myself? Could a random stranger be any worse than the women who are proposing?

My private quarters are dim and comforting. Behind these walls, I don't have to worry about putting on a front. Here, I can truly think and be myself. I collapse in my chair and begin to think with my hand firmly wrapped around a generous tumbler of gin. Seeing the large stack of letters waiting for the necessary incineration, I set the fireplace ablaze. As I stare into the burning proposals, my drink begins to betray me.

Maybe this isn't so bad.

Yes, the lottery is random, but maybe that makes it better. True, whoever they pick for me may have read the crap the Prophet or Quibbler has spit out, but she that doesn't mean she'll believe any of it. And if she does have any preconceived notions, surely I can change that. I am very persuasive.

This could be my chance to start over, start fresh. I have wondered for months now- why did I live? I had accepted my fate. I was ready to die. Now, my life is laid out before me. My past can stay in my past, but my future is not clouded with vows and promises of devotion. I can choose what path I take. No master to decide for me. Well, the Ministry is deciding, but they are a far cry from the monster I once served.

I know that Lily will forever be a part of me, but I did what I set out to do. She would want me to find some kind of peace now, right? Find a witch and settle down. My future wife, whoever she may be, would have to get to know me. I am not looking for love from her, but this stranger could give me a chance to become a different person, a better person.

Minerva is right, I am a private person. But I could change for her. For this unknown woman. The Ministry will give me one month to marry once they select my bride, so I could court her. We could get to know each other. Become acquainted. Become friends. Then move forward. At least then I don't have sell my soul. Again.

Besides, I have just realized the Golden Trio have actually made things easier for Lucius. Potter and his two cronies are well taken care of, so what is the big deal of letting one old teacher slide under the law? The ministry could make one single exception for a war hero, right?

I have come to the decision that I will allow the lottery to choose my fate. If it is a witch I truly can't get along with, all I have to do is knock her up once and wait out the twenty years. Besides, I am a potion's master for Merlin's sake. I can make her agreeable or desire me if I really want to.

I never knew how much hope was in a bottle of gin.


My new outlook on the situation puts me at ease. It is like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. My walls are firmly back in place and this gives me a new air of confidence. Now that I am at peace, I begin to think about my future wife.

Who will she be? Someone I know? Blonde or Brunette? Smart? Quiet? There are hundreds of possibilities and it makes me slightly excited. My nightmares have been replaced by erotic dreams of this faceless witch. I wake up multiple times a night now with a raging erection.

Each time is slightly different than the time before. Sometimes she is walking alongside me through the dark dungeons with her arm around my waist. Sometimes she is leaning against my chest as we sit by the lake watching the giant squid. She kisses me and comforts me. Her hands run all over my body frantically, as she presses against me. Like all dreams, it then skips to my room where we are naked. But I can never see her face. It is hidden by her hair. I can't even remember what color her hair is. The dream always ends before I can penetrate her.

I feel like a teenage boy. Each time I wake up, I am panting and aroused to the point of feeling the need to finish what this witch has started. I have more self control though, so I roll over and forget the pain between my legs in the hope that she will visit again and finish job. She never does, so I usually give into my needs as I shower the next morning.

But these dreams give me hope. I don't believe in that Divination crap Sybil Trelawney spews, but I it does seem like these dreams might be a sign. Not a sign that she is going to be beautiful or have an insatiable sexual appetite, but a sign that we are going to be compatible. It makes me believe we will enjoy each other's company and want to spend time together.

Maybe I won't have to use a potion to seduce her or be able to stand her presence.


"Any luck?"

Hermione's voice snaps me out of my own head. I am sure I have been staring at the same page for the last several minutes, but the words seem seem like they are written in ancient runes or something.

"Nothing yet. You?" She shakes her head and sighs. Since Hermione finished her essay, we have shut ourselves in the library. But we aren't finding anything useful.

"Hermione," I plead quietly. "What if we don't… I mean, what if there's nothing…"

As if reading my mind, she cuts me off. "We are not going to think like that. This research is the first step in building a case. Your father is already gathering support for an appeal and Professor McGonagall is speaking to the board members of Hogwarts to possibly make exceptions for students so we can complete our education. We have hope, but we have to do our due diligence."

"I know," I say pulling another book out of the stack between us. "It's just the whole kids thing. Let's say that we can't get it overturned and have to follow through with this marriage. Without a potion or a spell, how on earth are we going to keep from getting pregnant?"

"Yes, that is a quandary," she muses thoughtfully. "But there is nothing in the documents about certain Muggle methods. Obviously, condoms are out and the Pill is detectable, but there is the possibility of using an IUD. Using Fertility Awareness is a good possibility if nothing else is."

I just stare at her blankly. Between her Muggle talk and her extreme intelligence, sometimes it feels like she is is speaking Goblin or Parseltongue. I have no idea what she is talking about. Seeing my expression, she gives a small chuckle before trying to explain.

"An IUD is a device put inside you to prevent pregnancy and Fertility Awareness is just another term for the rhythm method. IUD will be the most risky since it could be detected as a foreign object or deception spell will give it away. Fertility Awareness might be the best option at this point."

"My mother had seven children," I point out. "I am pretty sure my fertility is going to be higher than the average witches, so I that doesn't really help me."

"Fertility Awareness method is a form of birth control based on the woman's monthly cycle," she explains. She points to the calendar. "Muggles have proven that there are certain days during a menstrual cycle that are better for conceiving than others. No matter what genetic fertility you may be predisposed to, there are still only certain days you can get pregnant on. These days can be avoided to prevent pregnancy."

I sit back and mull it over. "So we just have to keep from doing that on certain days and we'll be okay?" Boy, do I sound like a little kid. I can't even say the word. No, I can't even say the euphemism without blushing.

"For the most part," Hermione shrugs. "It isn't a perfect method, but is the only one we have to work with. The law only says we have to have an encounter only once a week and they don't specify which day of the week. During a typical cycle, you'll be fertile for about six days. Given that there are seven days in a week, you only need to select the one day you aren't fertile to fulfill that portion of the law and keep from becoming pregnant. The rest of the days won't matter, just the six."

Merlin, this is humiliating. Being best friends, we are pretty comfortable talking about our cycles, but talking about sex is awkward. Partly because she knows Harry and I haven't gone all the way yet, but mostly because I don't want to think about her shagging my brother.

"Fine. If this is the only thing we can do, then show me how it works," I concede. She goes through the calendar and shows me how to find my fertile days. It takes a few minutes for her to explain risks involved, but it does make sense.

"And so you'll have to let Harry know when they fertile days are," she finally concludes. I look up with wide eyes. Tell Harry when we are supposed to…

"No, absolutely not," I say crossing my arms and shaking my head.

"Ginny," she says rolling her eyes and sitting back. "It might be awkward at first, but no more awkward than when you two are actually-"

"Don't say it," I shriek. Madame Pince shoots us a warning glare. I drop my voice back down and firmly tell her I don't want to talk about it.

"Ginny," Hermione hisses back, "don't you want to?" She raises her eyebrows. I don't have to ask to know she is trying to ask politely if I have a problem with shagging Harry.

"Of course I do," I deflect quickly. After a second I add, "One day."

"One day is sometime in the next month," she adds gently.

"I know that, thank you," I snap back. "Just because it has to happen doesn't mean I am ready. Some of us have been trying to get to know our boyfriends, and haven't been sleeping with them for the last six months." I give her a scathing look as she blushes deeply.

"We haven't just been -" she starts and then clamping her mouth as the look of disgust crosses my face. She takes a deep breath and tries again, "Look, no one is ever really ready for their first time, but then most people get a choice of when it will happen. Maybe you and Harry just need to talk about it."

"I'm not talking to him about...that," I repeat heatedly. I know I shouldn't be furious with her, but all my anxiety has finally taken hold of me in the form of terror. Sure, I may have had other boyfriends in the past, but all we ever did was snog with some touching over our clothes. I mean, for Circe's sake, Harry hasn't even seen me naked!

"Ginny, calm down," she urges, trying to lay her hand on my shoulder. I yank away and stand up so briskly, a tower of books on the table knocks onto the floor with a loud thump. Before Madame Pince can walk over, I rush out of the Library. I don't know where I intend to go, but I need to walk to clear my head. I turn the corner and collide with Harry forcefully enough to knock both of us to the ground.

"Ginny," he says bewildered. He gets up and holds his hand out, asking, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I snipe shortly and ignore his hand. Scrambling up off the ground, I turn to walk away. He grabs my arm firmly.

"No, you aren't," he states. I try to pull away, but he steps in my path and places both hands on my shoulders. His head dips a little as he tries to look in my eyes, but I avoid his stare and look down to my right. "Ginny, what's going on? What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? What's wrong?" My voice rises with each question. "This law is what is wrong! This stupid, stupid, stupid law. Everything is wrong. I can't do it! I just can't!" I throw my hands up to break his grip on my shoulders.

"You can't marry me?" The hurt in his tone snaps me back to reality. He takes a step back defensively with a bewildered look on his face.

"No, no, I just….that's not what I meant," I stutter. His green eyes are glaring down at me. I know he is thinking the worst, so I try to recover. "It's just this whole law is driving me crazy. I don't want to have children. I mean, I do, eventually, but not right now. But this law is forcing us to, you know. I just, I just don't want to. I mean, I want to with you but it is too soon. We've snogged plenty, but I don't know how to do that. I just…"

My voice trails off as he wraps me up in a kiss. Closing my eyes, I can feel my body relax against his. In this moment, nothing else matters. Nothing is wrong. Everything is right. He pulls away and looks down at me. I blush and realize how stupid I just sounded.

"Better?" He asks rubbing my my cheek softly. I look up to respond but get interrupted in the worst way imaginable.

"Potter, I'm sure Miss Weasley will eventually come to terms with losing twenty point for inappropriate conduct," the silky voice sneers. I try to push him off me, but he keeps hold of my waist confidently.

"It's my fault Professor," Harry corrects politely. "I was the one being inappropriate." I can feel my face on fire as Professor Snape looks between the two of us suspiciously. The two of them had dinner not long after the trial, but Harry wouldn't tell me what it was about. I had hoped they decided to put their differences aside, but tension in the air tells me they aren't quite on amicable terms yet.

"Indeed," he drawls smoothly. He glances at me out of the corner of his eyes icily and then back at Harry with a thin smile. "Then, I guess it would only be appropriate to punish you Potter. Twenty points will be taken from each of you."

I open my mouth to protest, but Harry shakes his head and gives me a look before replying, "Yes, sir. We apologize, Professor." Well, that was unexpected.

Snape glares at the two of us for another minute almost as if he can't decide whether to yell at Harry or hex him into oblivion. He decides on a snide comment. "Please, don't let me interrupt your conversation." He folds his arms and waits as if to challenge us to kiss again.

"Come on," I hiss. I grab Harry's arm and pull him in the opposite direction. Reluctantly, Harry follows, but not before I catch him giving Snape what looks like a disappointed shake of the head. We make it back to the portrait by the common room.

"What was that all about?" I ask stopping short of the Fat Lady. The hallway is empty and I don't really feel like going in yet, so I sit on the base of the stairs nearby and pull him next to me.

Harry shrugs and raises his eyebrows. "I could ask you the same thing."

"I asked first," I retort. My anxiety has somewhat subsided, but the irritation is still partially there.

"Professor Snape had every right to dock points from us. There is nothing more to say," he responds casually as he takes the place next to me. "Now what about you? Are you ready to explain whatever it was you were trying to say?"

I hate it when Hermione is right. No, I take that back. I hate it when she is right when I want her to be wrong. But, alas, she is right about me needing to talk to Harry. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and try to figure out how to say everything that is going through my mind without giving him the wrong idea.

"I'm scared about the whole kids thing," I say slowly. He lets out a small chuckle.

"Ginny, your mum is the best mum I've ever met and if you are even one percent of the woman she is, then you will definitely be great as well," he says smiling. I know he loves my mum like she was his own. She has always been so good to him.

"That's not the part I'm talking about," I mumble. My face is turning red again. I glance over to see him worried. "I'm not scared about having kids, I'm just anxious about the act of making them." I nearly whisper the last part, but I know he heard me clear enough by the way his ears turn red.

"Oh," he quips shortly. He nods and we sit there in silence for a few moments before he finally speaks again. "I know that we haven't...but, I don't want you to be afraid of me. I would never hurt you."

"No," I reply quickly. I knew that I was going to say this wrong, but it is too late for me to turn back now. "I'm not scared of you or doing it. I've just never -"

"Me neither," he cuts me off. I know I shouldn't be surprised by this, but I am. Sure, there were rumors about him and Hermione, but I knew those were false when I started to get to know her. Truthfully, I always suspected he and Cho Chang fooled around, but I didn't know for sure. Of course, we never talked about our previous flames, so his revelation is fairly surprising.

"I just didn't think our relationship was ready for something so intimate," I say slowly. "We are still making up for the months we lost. I don't want to complicate it with shagging." I look at him nervously to see how he is taking it. He frowns slightly.

"Ginny, do you want to be with me?" His question is abrupt.

"Of course I do." I give him an earnest nod of my head.

"Do you trust me?"

"I've told you many times I do," I add in exasperation.

"Do you love me?"

"Yes," I know there is apprehension in my voice, but I am nervous about where this line of questioning is going.

"People shag for lots of reasons," he says matter-of-factly. "But there are not very many reasons that are honest and good. If you trust me, know you want to be with me, and love me, just as I trust you, want to be with you, and love you, then you should believe those are good reasons for us to have sex. I'm not trying to put pressure on you, but I want you to know that I'm not going to let this law complicate what we have together. We are the only ones that have that power."

I take a moment to let his words sink in. In all the time I've known him, I don't remember him being so articulate or wise. We got back together after the war because we knew it was meant to be. We are happy together. We are good together. We do love each other and we want to spend the rest of our lives together. We want to have kids with each other and no one else. So why am I making this so difficult?

"I'm sorry," I apologize quietly. "I don't know what's gotten into me. I feel like I am going mad."

"I know," he sooths as he leans in to wrap his arms around me and kiss my forehead. "This whole week has been stressful for both of us. Between Quidditch practice, classes, and the last bits of the inquisitions, I have just been trying to keep my head above water before I drown. At breakfast, I accidently put orange juice in my oatmeal."

I laugh just imagining the look on his face when he tasted the first bite. He hugs me tighter so I lean in and whisper in his ear, "I know something that might help you hold your breath if you get swept under." I lift up and catch his mouth unexpectedly in a deep kiss.

He breaks the kiss and gives me teasing stare. "I thought you weren't ready for us to shag."

"I'm not," I say casually before I drop my hand to his crotch and gently massage him. "But I'm sure there are a few things we can do to help us prepare for when the time does come." He grunts as I give a gentle squeeze.

"Don't tease me," he murmurs running his hand up my waist to cup my breast. Now is as good a time as ever to move to the next step. Before I can chicken out, I haul him to his feet and drag him around the corner to an empty corridor of unused classrooms.

As soon as he shuts the door, I flick my wand at the door to lock it. Harry gives me a quizzical look as I pounce on him in a heated kiss. Grabbing at his trousers, I loosen his belt and undo his pants. Pushing them down, he tries to break the kiss.

"Ginny," he moans out of breath as I reach inside his shorts and grab his member. "We don't have to...don't you think this is a little fast…"

"Shut up," I tell him as I take his mouth in another kiss. I have no intention of going all the way, but I need to do this. I need to be the one to move our relationship into something more physical to remind me that I am in control, not the damn Ministry.

Before he can try to protest again, I drop to my knees and free the erection I felt while we were kissing on the stairs. It looks intimidating since I have no idea if I will even be good at this, but my mind is resolved. I look up one last time to give him a small, sly smile and then shove the whole length in my mouth.

"Argghh," he groans as he throws his head back. This maybe new for me, but I can see I am definitely doing it right. I have heard other girls in the dorm talk about different techniques, so I try out a few. With my mouth bobbing back and forth over his entire length over and over again, I use my hand to squeeze the base in rhythm. It isn't long before he is unconsciously thrusting his hips towards my mouth.

As his thrusting quickens, so does the depth. He is hitting the back of my throat and it is making me want to gag. I try to slow him down by pulling my mouth away and stroking with my hand. His hands are wrapped in my hair trying to bring my mouth back. Once I catch my breath, I take him in my mouth again with the intention of trying something else.

This time, I use my mouth to suck the tip of his cock while my hand continues to stroke. The sounds coming from him are encouraging. I pump faster and suck harder. My other hand reaches up and starts tugging on his balls. His hands are tangled in my hair firmly but not painfully. There is nothing on my mind except the thought that I want to please him the way he wants.

After a few minutes, he gasps and says, "Gin, I'm gonna…fuck!" He nearly shouts the last word as he begins thrusting erratically. I let my stroking hand drop to join my other hand on his balls as he shudders above me. His cock thrusts all the way in my mouth and releases in three quick jerks.

I can feel his cock pulsing in my mouth as I start swallowing his fluids. It tastes bitter and salty, but not too terrible. As I finish cleaning him with my tongue, he pulls me up by my arms and wraps me in a hug. His face is flush and his forehead is glistening with a thin film of sweat. He pulls back to look me in the eyes before murmuring, "I love you."

After his breathing returns and his clothes are back in place, we exit the room hand in hand to the common room. We don't say anything, but the silence is comfortable. There is no need for words. I just performed the most intimate act of my life and I am happy about it. Although I am slightly embarrassed about my forwardness, I also feel empowered by what I just did. I feel grown up.

As we crawl through the portrait, it seems like everyone can see what I just did written across my face. Maybe I should have done it somewhere more private where I wouldn't have had to face my schoolmates immediately afterwards, but it is too late now. Honestly, even if I had a time-turner, I probably wouldn't go back and change it. I am proud of what I did.

I just gave my first blow job. No, I just gave my future husband a blow job. No, I gave Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, Slayer of the Dark Lord, Order of Merlin First class, and my future husband a blow job that made him cum. Damn, I am a Gryffindor woman; hear me roar.

And if anyone has anything to say about it, they can just shove it.