I had writing inspiration! It only took two months to update! Yay! Please enjoy~


There were glowing colors all around him, sparkling in blues, yellows and greens. Bright stage lights stared down at him from above, and he momentarily lifted an arm to block the blinding glare.

Before him was a sea of faceless entities, seated in black collapsible chairs, ones he had sat in himself once before, during a Christmas play Lily had performed in when they were children. All of their expressionless attention was focused on him.

From each side of the stage he was standing on came two deformed, over-sized dolls, hopping towards him. One had comically bright red hair and three dots on each cheek to signify freckles. The other had bright round green dots for eyes, circled with black in a caricature of glasses, and a cut of lightning pasted across its face. As they bound across the stage, coming closer and closer, he tried to step out of the position that was directly in their path, but found he couldn't even twitch a muscle.

He prepared for the impact with what would hopefully be the soft cushioning of an colossal plush toy. The figures instead crushed his lungs with the weight of two massive mattresses. He felt himself suffocating momentarily under their weight, until they bounced away with recoil. Still he couldn't move a muscle, and they charged him again, slamming back into him.

"Bother, bother, bother, bother, bother," came two high pitched cackling voices from within the monstrous puppets as they squeezing his helpless body between them. "Bother, Bother, Bother, Bother, BOTHER, BOTHER!" Their voices grew in number, the audience joining in, and the sounds as a whole becoming deafening as the heavy bodies continue ramming him back and forth, unrelenting.

A warming sensation started in his arm, surprising him and in the interval between puppet smashing, he looked down. The normally inky black Dark Mark was spread across his arm in shades of pastels, a lavender snake pouring out of a pink skull with hearts for eyes and a yellow sunflower attached to its top.

As he stared down at it in horror, a loud explosion went off next to his ear, pulling him from his stupor, and for a moment he thought it was the dolls. His body jerked with a sudden intake of breath, only to find himself in his bedroom, a muggle buzzer blaring in his ear, and his wand warming an alarm to wake him. Blankets were twisted around his limbs, restricting his movement. He took a moment to unwrap himself before slamming the alarm off. It read 3 PM.

He had come home and immediately fallen asleep after the short meeting with his Lord. Having been awake the entire 20 hours it took to prep and brew the Wolfsbane, and then his visit to the Ministry, he'd not had the chance to catch the short nap he usually took. His shoes had barely been taken off before he was asleep, draped across the unmade bed and messy covers.

He had been smart enough to set his wand as soon as he had entered the room, spelling the muggle alarm to go off around the same time. The Dark Lord had mentioned the meeting was for this evening, but not the exact time. While he could have continued sleeping until the pain of the Calling woke him, he preferred to be awake and aware for a meeting with the other high ranking and inner circle Death Eaters.

His stomach began moaning at him, telling him that it was empty and he needed some sort of nourishment, so he stood from the bed and made his way to the kitchen. After a quick meal, he would check his ingredient inventory. It was a common activity that he left for the days after working on the wolfsbane and one that he could stop mid way if his summons came suddenly.

Once again in his dining-room-turned-storage, he opened the box at the back of the cabinet for the second time that day, and pulled out the opened vial. Holding it to the light, it shined brightly like liquid crystal. It was an extraordinarily precious ingredient; the accumulation of natural magic found in trees, plants, and the earth, condensed into a liquid form that took years to gather.

Never could it be found in the same place twice, and the locations that were found, were often completely secluded from any easily obtained access, by wizard and magical being alike. Several phials of it had been gifted to him by his Lord as a graduation gift, with the promise of more in the event of discovery. He was free to use it as he liked, as long as he worked towards developing a powerful use for it, such as the Dragon's Nectar he had given to Lupin.

Making a note in his potions ledger, he recorded the 5 drops he had taken. He was now down to two and three quarters of a vial.

Over the next hour, he continued marking his stock in a ledger; the weight of dried nettles, alihotsy, belladonna, and aconite, the quantities of bubotuber pus, midday dew drops, frogs tears, and armadillo bile. On a separate sheet of paper he wrote those items that would need to be replenished.

With still no signs of a Call, he headed to his garden. The sun was just starting to set, so if there were any firetails sprouting from near the pond, this would be the perfect time to gather them. Next to the door leading outside there was a small basket holding a pair of gardening scissors, gloves and a few vials. Grabbing it, he made his way out into the garden.

The short distance between his door and the gate was chilly, cutting through the several layers that made up his robes, but stepping amongst the first flutterfly bushes that lined the picket fence, there was a puff of warm air. A permanent shield of artificial weather magic had been put in place by his mother, when she had first moved to live here with his father.

What she had sacrificed in order to keep it in place, he didn't know, but it still held strongly, even through the most violent of winters. One small area was kept chilled and frozen, for the rare blue aconite needing a perfectly controlled and unchanging environment.

The high walls of the surrounding houses blocked much of the sunlight from naturally reaching the plants, and a series of mirror spells angled the rays of light to provide enough time for proper photosynthesis. The overcrowded district planning had also left little room for expansion, boxed in as every home was. Even with wizard space, it was cramped and overcrowded.

When his hand reached out to touch a flower's petals, holding them to check for any signs of pests, he thought to himself that he must cut a disturbing figure. Despite his serene mind, he was draped in severe all black cloak with a permanent scowl that rarely left from under his overly large hooked nose. Surrounding him were colorful flowers that he cared for with a delicate hand. The juxtaposition was not lost on him.

He pulled on his gloves as he reached the red and orange fire tails, just coming to full bloom in the receding sunlight. Reaching out, he stroked the stem, testing the firmness, and turned over several bundles of leaves. A startled ladybug rushed its way to the top of the section he was holding, and took flight, jumping into the air with a short buzz as it whizzed away. His eyes followed it until it was lost within the colors of the setting sun.

Sharp, piercing pain soared through his left arm, and for a moment he thought he must have brushed against the fiery leaves and burnt himself. But the pain was much more recognizable, that of an irritated Dark Lord. He stood and quickly turned, disapparating on the spot.

As he appeared in the foyer of the Dark Lord's fortress, the first thing he noticed was the silence. There was no one here, and no sounds to be heard. It could be that he was the first one to arrive, having reacted so quickly, but there was always someone waiting during a call, be it house elves or the recently released, Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black. But the hall that greeted him now was eerily quiet.

Rather than waiting for anyone else to appear, he cautiously made his way to the room where meetings were often held and slowly opened the door. Inside the room, several rows of black robed Death Eaters stood at attention, lined up in accordance to their position. Severus's eyes widened at the sight.

"Severus, how pleasant of you to finally join us."

The door slammed shut behind him as he fully entered, and he felt cold, angry magic drag him forward to the front of the room, forcing him to his knees. He quickly followed suit with the non-verbal instruction, bowing his head and showing complete submission. He now understood why the Dark Lord was irritated enough to send such a painful call.

"I find myself wondering why your see it fit to arrive 10 minutes behind schedule."

There was a pause of silence in which Severus could not decide whether it was safe to speak or not. He didn't know why he was late either, and could think of no reasonable explanation as to why his fellow Death Eaters were already assembled.

"Answer."

"I... only just received your call, my Lord. I mean no disrespect by arriving late." In fact, whenever there was a group call, it normally took 10 minutes from that time until any actual meeting was started. He had answered within moments. So how could he be late?

"Did you not receive the message that was sent, young Severus?"

"A... message, My Lord? I have received no owls or deliveries today..." he hesitated as to whether he should just accept his punishment without excuse. He hadn't received any post today, meaning there was little fault that could be laid at his feet. "Unfortunately I was asleep for most of the day, only waking in the early evening."

A pensive look overtook the Dark Lord's face, red eyes narrowing in thought. He turned away from where Severus was still crouched, to face his sea of masked followers.

"What do you have to say for yourself, Bentley? You were left in charge of delivering the maps and mission statements, were you not?"

The reply from the unseen follower was quick and smart.

"Of course I sent all of the missives to everyone you requested of me, My Lord. If one receiver felt himself to lazy to get out of bed and retrieve it, I believe there is no fault of mine."

Severus felt his facial muscles tighten in anger. He worked himself to exhaustion every full moon for not just himself, but their Lord. How dare the little upstart presume laziness from himself? The tone of voice all but stated that he hadn't sent any such note to Severus, and was feeding him to the lion that was their Lord's temper.

"Hmm.. As you say, you sent missives to everyone on the list your were given, did you not?"

"I did my Lord."

"That is including Bellatrix, yes?"

"Yes... my Lord." There was hesitance in his voice, which was understandable considering even Severus did not know where the Dark Lord was going with this train of thought.

"Bellatrix happened to be with me for most of the day. She did not receive any such owl while in my presence, but perhaps you sent it to her room instead?"

"I... did just that my Lord, yes."

"And who received this message on your behalf, my dear?"

"No one my Lord," and there was that sickly sweet voice, a terror from his school days,. "There was a note sitting on my bedside table when I returned."

"Ah, yes. The post owls know to leave their mail in an easily accessible place, just in case of such an instance where the receiver is unavailable and cannot retrieve it. What do you say to this, Bentley?"

"Snape lives in a muggle home, my Lord. Perhaps the owl was confused."

There was a soft smattering of laughs from various locations within the room. It was then that Severus realized, multiple Death Eaters were in on whatever joke this was. Hazing, as the muggles might call it, but smug, pureblood superiority was all that came to mind in the wizarding world. He was a half-blood, yes, and it was a well known, disliked fact, that despite his 'lower' blood status, he would be held in the Dark Lord's favor at such a young age.

Many of the Dark Lord's followers were purebloods, and many felt that they deserved to be given more opportunities than their half blood or muggleborn fellows. They claimed to be deeply connected to the struggle the Dark had faced over centuries, more so than those who had only been recently introduced to the magical world. Their logic didn't fit with half-bloods, but their claims of muggle influence were spouted religiously, as if multiple repetitions would hide the fact that they only knew what had been told to them by the older generation, just the same as any half-bloods or muggle born.

Fortunately, the Dark Lord was of a different opinion. There were people from all walks of life, at all levels within the Death Eater hierarchy, and not a single one was turned away from the Dark's cause. Blood purity had little to do with the Voldemort's decisions in the ranking system, only power and ability, but some of the inner circle would never agree. Despite being in the Dark Lord's esteem, Severus was young, reclusive, and oh so easy to hate because of his prominent muggle features. It left a sour taste in the back of his throat that he could not torture the other man with a well placed curse.

The sound of hissing and scales on stone rose above the quiet laughter, and a panicked yelp from within the crowd silenced any further noise. Severus allowed himself to peek, tilting his head minutely to where he could see, only to find his master's pet, Nagini. She was wrapped around a lone figure, the surrounding Death Eater's giving her and her victim a wide berth. The following moments were filled with the sounds of Parseltongue flowing between the python and the Slytherin Heir, shivers flowing down Severus' spine at the sibilant tones.

"It seems I have been lied too." The Dark Lord said in English after a moment.

"My, my Lord?" The man who practically whimpered, head peeking through the coils of the snake's embrace.

"I do not like liars, Mr. Bentley, and lies fill your scent, as my dear Nagini has just let me know." He could see the snake tighten her binds around the Death Eater at the sound of her own name in English. "I especially do not like liars who are so crass as to allow their jealousy to blind them into doing so."

"I, I am sorry my Lord. It, it won't happen again." The voice was high pitched, his lungs being crushed under the thick muscle that filled the serpent's eighteen foot long girth.

"No, it won't."

There was a sharp hiss and its reply, and a soft, grinding crunch. A piercing scream quickly gurgled into a bloody death as the Death Eater's body crumpled under the unbearable pressure of the python's grip. Bones sticking out at odd angles under skin were momentarily visible, covered mostly by the lumpy robe.

As soon as the large snake abandoned the destroyed corpse in front of horrified onlookers, house elves appeared to swish it away. Gore still clung to snake scales and was spread along the stone floor in a bloody trail.

Severus found himself in shock at the sudden death. He had wanted to curse the Death Eater, but this… He was unable to look away from the single eyeball that had burst from it's socket to land a short ways away from his hand.

"I apologize for having to expose you to an extermination on such short notice, but it was an itch that needed to be scratched. Please take it as a reminder that the Dark Order is for life.*"

There was a short pause, and red eyes lit up like a rearing inferno.

"You will all do well to remember who your leader is."

A shockwave of powerful magic forced stillness through the room, and the reality of the murder before them hit home.

"If any of my follower deem to think themselves above my commands, they will follow in the path of Bentley, becoming my lovely Nagini's dinner. Bentley thought that he could take matters he had no relationship with into his own hands, and has overstepped his bounds one too many times. Tonight was simply the final straw. Mistakes such as these will not be forgiven." He scratched the head of the snake that had made its way up the stairs of the dais and began curling about the Dark Lord's throne like a house cat. A wave of his wand and the gore was cleared.

"Severus, you may rise and take your position." A hand waved in his general direction. "I'm certain the rest of you have received your maps. Let us continue with tonight's agenda." The Dark Lord added flippantly, as if he had not just killed a follower in cold blood, and threatened bodily harm to the rest.

Severus stood swiftly, unwilling to risk any further admonition, and his Mark guided him to a position in the second row. He was just behind the inner circle, in the first league of fighters, headed by Bellatrix and Lucius. If dueling squads were being called together tonight, then a major event was about to take place.

After a moment of complete silence, not even a rustle of robes on skin, the Dark Lord removed the large green snake draped across his person, and stood to face his followers. He stared out at them, silent, savoring the unease that still filled the room after the abrupt execution. But his voice held their ear and loyalty as he began.

"For millennia, across every possible location within the muggle world, slavery has been a way of economy and life for some," he started, speaking slowly. "Very rarely have wizarding kind become involved with the exchange of human stock. Involvement with muggle wars was uncommon, and we had no need for their spoils and human property.

"In more recent centuries, however, magical beings have been caught mingling within the muggle slave trade in an attempt to grow their fortune. It is a profitable venture, capturing and selling muggle vermin to other vermin. However..."

The Dark Lord held up his left hand, in which a misty form began to take shape, swirling up like smoke from his palm, as if it held embers. A wolf, a harpy woman, men and women who could be nothing but magical as they glowed next to their muggle counterparts, each pitiful scene grew before them.

"Those that have a hand in this trade are no longer satisfied with just filthy muggles. Witches and wizards, werewolves, veela, merpeople, and a host of other magical creatures have been pulled into these circles."

Images flashed one after the other, a multitude of magical beings strapped into chains or locked in cages, trapped by the hands of muggles.

"They are not clients. They are goods."

Severus watched the smokey images, as several bedraggled wizards were frog marched across a wooden platform. It was set up auction style he realized, as hands rose from just out of sight of the mist, bidding. It was a disgusting sight, the platform and dirty, scruffy wizard's heralding back to the witch trials of the 1400's.

"In this day and age, it is rare, if not impossible, for a magical being to be caught unawares by a muggle. Even if captured, they are easily able to escape with the use of their wand our innate magic. That our kind has fallen so far... The only explanation for the loss of our kind is the act of other witches and wizards. Wizards, selling our kind as slaves to those who are less than the dirt beneath our feet!"

With a jerk of the Dark Lord's wrist, the images burst in a fiery explosion. His voice grew deeper and darker, shadows twisting across his face in a fearsome caricature of passionate anger.

"Within the last half a century, the numbers have been rising, hidden in the shadows of the fight between Dark and Light. A... group of sorts, has been taking magical beings, to be sold and used as tools. " His fists were clenched, turning white under the pressure of his grip, and his powerful voice held his followers in rapt attention.

"They have taken to kidnapping our brethren, Dark witches, wizards and beings, pulling them from their homes and places of employ, even from the streets in broad daylight. When people bring their worries and complaints to the Aurors, the Ministry, despite being so dedicated to showing how Light and good it is, forsake them."

Severus could feel the delicious dark magic rolling off his Lord in waves. It was filled with anger, rage, fury, creeping out to be inhaled and inherited by his followers.

"Our kind are left to rot in whatever hell holes they've been dragged into, and when a Light being is taken, they blame us. They use it as a chance for propaganda and passing stricter laws on supposed Dark magic, with no consideration for the fact that we are disappearing in greater numbers than they are. Within the last year, the numbers of laws and bills restricting Dark creatures have risen, giving this group nothing to fear as they increase their pace."

Mirrored with the Dark Lord's magic, fear and fury filled the air of the people around Severus. Their tempers rose at the thought of their fellow Dark beings abandoned by their government, by those who held power not only in Britain, but worldwide. They had known, of course, of the disappearances, but with all the dots connected in front of them... The riot of emotions was building into a crescendo of anxious magic, readying itself to explode. The Dark Lord's hands rose placatingly.

"Be calm, my loyal. For tomorrow, we will wait no longer. Tomorrow, we will take matters into our own hands."

The anger receded slightly, as though a balm swept over them, easing out the hysteria as whispers flitted through the room. For a fleeting moment he felt the Dark Lord's magic reflecting the sentiment, in fact, pushing it onto the crowd. Reassurance to bolster their energy, and focus them towards a common enemy on which they could release their fears and anger with gluttonous rage.

"I have called you all here tonight to let you know the final details of a plan that has been in the works for several months. Many of you have likely heard gossip and rumors from teams that ran the surveillance investigations across Eastern Europe. Some of those here were on the missions, and have finally collected the information we needed."

The Dark Lord's wand was thrust into the air, and from the tip shot a large roll of parchment. It grew and spread across the ceiling into a depiction of Northern and Eastern Europe. Severus had to tilt his head back slightly in order to see it from top to bottom. Several black skulls were marked in various countries, but up along the jagged snaking line that was the Norwegian coast, a bright red skull sat, pulsing in a bloody light.

There was a rustle of parchment around the area Severus knew to be Romania, currently marked with a black skull. From between its charred and blackened teeth, a second map unfolded, the one he had seen on Lucius' desk several months ago, when he had returned from his meeting with Dumbledore.

"Several camps have been found spread across the wilderness within the Eastern countries. Our most promising location was in Romania. A mining quarry, most likely used for blood minerals or dragonstone, was found in an unplottable forest area. A second trip to confirm the findings ended in a short skirmish after being discovered, and the slavers fled, taking most of their captives with them.

"The few who were left behind, were either injured or the elderly. One of the injured men was found to be werewolf from the Greyback clans, who was able to tell us of what inside information he could."

With a swirl, the previous map returned before zooming in on the shimmering ruby skull in the north. It too, transformed into a third multidimensional map, this time of a low, empty plane with a large, sinking spiral in the middle. A few sparse trees and a solitary shack sat on its edge.

"They have moved to Scandinavia, just outside of a small town in Norway. They have yet to cast it unplottable, as the muggles in the area have only recently abandoned the mine. Muggles had harvested it for coal until it was depleted, but the slave group seems to have found not just blood minerals, but solidified blood stone. One reconnaissance mission brought back similar readings after having scanned the area and taken samples themselves." He held up his fingers and it was only thanks to the lighting that the miniscule shard of red reflected out at them.

Severus felt his eyes widen in awe. From the way it caught the light, he knew it was real. They had found bloodstone. If he was to be sent on this mission, the chance to collect a few samples for himself… That would be a chance worth more than his own life.

"I am sure that several of you know how bloodstone is used." The Dark Lord's eyes happened to pass over Severus. There was a spark of amusement. "A rare substance, it can be used as a powerful sacrifice for permanent spells, with even just a sliver of the stone able to power magic for well over a century. The most famous use however is in alchemical processes. Perhaps, my loyal, you have heard of the legendary Philosopher's Stone."

Whispers of excitement filled the cavernous hall. Severus could feel himself practically salivating at the thought of experimenting with the ancient art of alchemy. He hoped the Dark Lord would be feeling generous enough to give him access.

"Unfortunately, the use of magic to harvest these stones causes them to turn into nothing more than sparkling pieces of glass. As such, our kidnappers are using werewolves, veela and wizards to harvest this source, without magic. Without their wands, they have no way to escape and no way to protect themselves while underground.

"Your goal is to rescue the slaves, capture any of the slavers, and obtain whatever bloodstone they might have already harvested.

"This will be a profitable venture, my Loyal. Does this interest you?" The Dark Lord asked slyly.

The cheers from the crowd rose up, awakened to the thought of not only saving their brethren, but putting their hands on an material so rare, most had only heard of it in storybooks.

"Tomorrow! Tomorrow we will fly, my loyal, and we will reap pleasure from bringing those who would do us harm down to their knees in terror. Death Eaters! You may eat to your hearts content!"

Further calls rose into a frenzy, the promise of kills and vengeance at the forefront of everyone's thoughts. Everyone, that is, except for Severus. The bright ruby red stone was all that filled his mind, and the possibilities he could have through taking advantage of it. Voldemort raised his arms, bowing his hands in an effort to quiet his minions. It quickly became silent and he continued.

"The time for departure will be at 3 PM tomorrow afternoon. I realize some of your jobs will not allow for an afternoon absence on such short notice, and you will be excused from this mission." Severus would be fine; there was little for him to do but continue his research and meet with Remus in two days time after the transformation.

"There are three squads for this mission. Bellatrix, my dear, you will be leading the first team. I would like your squad to be the initial strike. Any guards need to be down and gone as quickly as you can take them."

"Of course my Lord. There will be a bloodbath within minutes of our arrival." Her voice was sickly sweet, and Severus could see the crazed smile that grew across her face.

"Lucius, you will lead the second team. Your aim will be to give portkeys to each and every being you come across, leaving none behind. This includes any slavers or guards who are still alive. Bellatrix, once the initial strike is complete, you will join Lucius's team. At that point, it is paramount that there are as few deaths as possible. You will need to restrain yourself a bit, Bella."

From the angle he stops at, Severus could see the pout on her overly bright red lips at the idea of holding herself back. He thought it might be good for her to learn a little restraint, before the Black Insanity had a chance to fully take over her.

"Yes, I know it's disappointing, but torture is not out of the question. We simply need them for information. A missing limb or two would not be a problem."

But the Dark Lord always gave her free reign, as one of his dominant lieutenants. And when she was let loose, her madness just seemed to worsen. Tomorrow, anyone who came through her path would likely be slaughtered.

"Estimates read that there are about 200 people within the mine. Most of them will be captives, but there will likely be at least 50 enemies among them, not including the guards outside. As the town we are travelling to is located far north, it will be dusk when we arrive, despite being afternoon. They are one hour ahead of England, and the arrival time will be 4:04, to account for portkey travel. You will then have until 4:47 PM, which is the time when the full moon is set to rise. "

"As for the third team…" the Dark Lord trailed off. Severus wondered who would be chosen as a third leader, seeing as his two lieutenants had already been given their orders.

Rarely was there an organized mission that only required three teams. It was always either one team, or everyone, but with the recent rise in rank numbers, every Death Eater being sent on a single mission was nigh impossible. The Dark Lord's gaze wandered over the Inner Circle members that made up the first row, and rather than skipping over his Right and Left hand in the center, red eyes settled between them, looking directly at himself.

"Severussss…" he hissed, and another wave of whispers began to overtake the crowd, as they all turned to stare at him, the faceless masks of Death personified. A momentary sense of deja vu overcame him, and the only things missing were the muggle chairs.

He felt a sense of shock, followed by exhilaration and nerves at the pronouncement. The role of squad leader was only ever offered to the Inner Circle, and rightly so. It normally required high skills in dueling and tactics, along with a proven record of leadership that inspired the respect of the cadets in their command.

Severus was offered little respect from both his betters and those lower in the hierarchy than he was. Placed in the 2nd rank, he was only a step away from the Inner Circle, but practically every other member of the Death Eaters under the age of 30 was grouped in the lowest tier of the 3rd rank. It took many years of missions, trials and tests of loyalty before any were given the permission that he had received after only a few months in the Dark Lord's employ. Moreover, he was now being chosen for an Inner Circle duty. He could hardly believe it. Why would the Dark Lord do such a thing?

"Come forward, young Severus."

Bellatrix and Lucius both moved slightly to the side, offering him passage. Bellatrix's large maniacal smile, and Lucius's smirk both let him know that they knew what was coming. He wished he could spend a split second to slip into either of their minds, but there was no time and the Dark Lord would know immediately.

He stood once more, front and center to the dias the Dark Lord stood on, towering far above him like a castle, with Nagini as the figurative dragon wrapped about the chair behind him.

"Though none of my followers seem able to respect my decision in promoting you to the second tier when I did, I thought it might be productive to set a mission just for you, Severus. I give you a chance to prove yourself before your peers." There was a hissing laugh, and several of the surrounding Death Eaters joined in, obviously think that their Lord had set him up for failure right from the start.

"Your mission is two fold, Severusss. First, I ask of you, what is the maximum size possible for the wolfsbane potion to be made in one batch."

Perplexed by the sudden question, Severus thought about it for a moment. "With access to the right amount of ingredients, the highest possibility for a single Potions Master to make in one batch would be close to 100, My Lord. Although with children, they only need a half dose." He bowed his head as a sign he was finished answering.

"And a second question, I ask of you, how long does it take to brew the Wolfsbane, Severusss?"

It was with a feeling of dread that the realization of where this line of questioning was leading that Severus answered. "For the basic potion, 16 hours, My Lord, from start to finish."

"And this leads to my third question. If you were to start now, you would be able to produce a batch of Wolfsbane potions before the start of the mission, is that correct?"

He took a moment to swallow a shuddering breath, terrified of what was about to happen to him. It was still only 6 PM, and that would leave just enough time to bottle the potion into individual vials before the portkey was scheduled to leave.

"That would be correct, My Lord."

"Surely you would be lacking sleep and fighting exhaustion by the end of it, however, would you not?"

Already knowing that the potion would be demanded of him whether he would actually be exhausted or not he responded with the truth. "I.. would my Lord. I will have been awake for 48 hours with only minimal rest by the time the mission is set to travel. Exhaustion would be highly likely."

"That is where your second mission comes in Severus."

"You will be leading a third smaller team that will initially engage with Bellatrix's in the first skirmish, before breaking away when it is safe to do so to go in search of their harvested ore. You will be granted the use of a device that should lead you to whatever area has the strongest concentration of magical minerals. If you meet any slaves or targets along the way, you will use a portkey to send them out. You may engage them, if you wish, but you will be under a no kill restriction. Both for you, and your teammates."

Was the Dark Lord trying to kill him? Had he carried out some transgression unknowingly? It was practically an impossible task, herculean in its demands of both his body, intellect and pride.

He would do it though, exactly as was asked of him. A humble servant, the tool of his master, and a dark wizard, he had no wish to fail the Dark Lord. He had his potions, and his mind had never failed him when plotting escapes from troublesome situations. His pride was still intact, despite the other Death Eater's attempt to deceive him. He would allow for no driveling nonsense, from anyone who might end up under his command. The cadets he was granted would surely try to break the no kill order, despite everyone having just heard the command. They would know that he would be the only one punished if such an incident were to occur.

"If My Lord will allow me, I ask of two requests."

"You may ask."

"If it is at all possible, My Lord, I would prefer an assistant who passed their Potions NEWTS with an O, or one who is aiming for a Mastery in Potions or a related field in order to make sure of no delays or mistakes in the brewing."

There was a momentary pause as the Dark Lord thought about his request, before a third voice rang out.

"If I may volunteer myself, My Lord," called from the back of the crowd, and Severus turned his head ever so slightly to catch a glimpse of the raised hand. The mask covered face offered no clue as to the hand's owner, but he had heard that voice somewhere before…

"Ah, yes. Come forward, Regulus. I'm sure you would be fitting for the role of Severus's assistant."

An eyebrow rose on his forehead. He had not heard that the Heir to the Noble House of Black had joined their ranks. Of course, due to his parentage, it had already been set in stone that Regulus would be joining their ranks at some point, especially when his brother had abandoned ship. He had only been able to keep the most minimal amount of contact with his housemate; an occasional letter here and there, and nothing at all since the younger man had graduated last spring.

"Does the youngest Black, suit your requirements, Severus?"

The boy was brilliant at potions, not as genius as himself, but a pureblood easily carrying the demands of superiority across his perfectly proportioned shoulders.

"He will be of the utmost use, thank-you My Lord," he said with a bow.

"And what of your second request." The Dark Lord waved his hand flippantly, apparently bored with his posturing. Severus's voice fell to a whisper.

"Although it's normally against protocol, I ask that I might be allowed to take a potion before the mission, one that will restore my faculties and allow me to focus on my task with a clear mind."

It was a slightly embarrassing request, and he spoke so quietly that it was likely only Voldemort and the Inner Circle had been able to hear. He could guess the Dark Lord's reason for giving such an unreasonable task and thought to see what he might able to get away with. A second, last minute wolfsbane potion was sure to put him on the very ends of his ropes, a chance for the Dark Lord to see how he would react, but it was worth the chance to ask, rather than risk being slaughtered due to exhaustion.

"Yes, you may have your potions, my dear Severus. Anything that you feel will make it easier to impress your fellows." Brightly sparkling eyes and a devilish smirk shone down on him.

"I will leave it in your hands, Severusss. Do not disappoint me. You and the youngest Black are dismissed. You will find everything you need in the laboratory." His last comment was a sign that this was a plan long in the making, and not just a sudden plot to play with him.

"Thank-you my Lord." He offered a bow at the waist. Without even a glance to see if Regulus was following, he turned away and quickly left the room in the wake of rising whispers. After a moment he could hear footsteps behind him, and he quickened his pace, making his way through the hall, further into the Dark Lord's fortress.

A large metal door stood tucked into the wall, and with the flick of his wrist, it opened smoothly to show a dark stairwell leading deep into the floor. Torches came alight, guiding his way down the deep steps. Another set of footsteps pattered after him, and a large boom sounded when the door closed behind his hanger-on.

At the end of the stairs was a large room, dozens of times larger than his own basement, filled with cauldrons of all sizes, including one particularly gargantuan size pot that could likely fit a full grown elephant within. Counters and empty fire pits were spread throughout the room, and various plants and jarred ingredients covered the far wall, protected from the rest of the room by a large magical force field that only allowed a human body to pass through of its own violation.

Already laid out on one of the counters was, after closer inspection, roughly the correct amount of raw ingredients he would need, including the fresh picked blue aconite that was so difficult to acquire.

Regulus had stopped at the entrance of the laboratory to stare about in awe. From the cathedral high ceilings that allowed for proper ventilation, to the large dias and platform over which hovered the gargantuan number 50 pewter cauldron, Severus could appreciate the other man's awe. He had reacted much the same way when Voldemort had first escorted him down here and allowed him full access. Still, he prefered the small comfort of his own personalized laboratory for his pet projects. The lack of people sporadically interrupting him was a bonus.

"Have you brewed the wolfsbane before?"

"What?" came the startled voice of the younger Black. "No, no I've never had the chance to make it myself, but I've read through the original recipe once or twice."

"Good, the original is what we'll be brewing. My experimental version is too unstable and would take too long to attempt on such short notice. There is a copy of the instructions on the table over there. Familiarize yourself with it." He wafted his hand in the general direction of the other end of the counter he was on. As he inspected the freshness of the ingredients, the first thing he grabbed was a tankard of armadillo bile, and began measuring into into a large number 13 cauldron for the second time in as many days.

When he was finished he cast Aquamenti Purgutus, casting out a stream of distilled water from his wand, filling the cauldron until it was half-way full. Lighting the flame underneath it, he turned to see Regulus standing across from him, a silly grin on his face as he watched him work. Disgruntled, he began to lay down the rules that would provide him with the most optimal working conditions.

"You will stay silent while I am working, and only speak when you are asked a direct question. You will follow my instructions down to the most insignificant detail, and you will not question me. Understood?"

"Yes, Severus." And the brat was still smiling at him, completely unfazed by his brusque manner.

"Put on an apron, then, and start grinding this moonstone until its fine as fairy dust." He removed the rocks from the scale he had weighed them in, and placed them next to a mortar and pestle that was conveniently sitting

"Yessir!" Regulus had the gall to throw him a salute, before bounding over to the wall where various articles of clothing were draped.

"And Regulus…" he paused, wondering whether or not he should say the words out loud.

"Yes, Severus?" The roguish eyes sparkled at him with boundless playful energy, as he held a plastic band in his teeth, pulling his long hair behind him in a ponytail. He looked so like the tormenter of his childhood, this man's brother, but despite their similar characteristics, there were never any bad intentions in Regulus's actions.

"Thank-you for offering your assistance." He nodded, and then turned back to his sneezewort calculations.

"You're quite welcome, Severus." The other man set to work without another word, selecting the first round, pearlescent rock and splitting it into two with a hard smack of the pestle.

The next half an hour was spent working quickly, trying to start the potion as soon as was possible. The short pause while the base marginalized was spent preparing even more ingredients.

As they worked, he explained to Regulus what would need to be done while he was busy with stirring and mixing ingredients. He would be unable to help the younger man while his mind was filled with the counts and calculations of how many stirs and which direction to move. He trusted his junior to remember the instructions, without the need to check notes every other minute. They had worked together before, after all.

When their long break finally came around, it was already early morning. They had a few hours to rest and eat. He pulled himself out of his potions mindset and focused on his next task.

"Regulus, you can finish for now. Get something to eat from the house elves and spell yourself to sleep."

With a wave of his wand, one of the counters turned into a sizeable cot, not all that comfortable, but suitable for a few hours.

"What are you going to be doing, Severus?" The boy asked, wiping his hands of the gook he had been elbow deep in.

"I need to retrieve some things from my home that will not be provided by the Dark Lord's manor. Rest will come when that is finished."

"Make sure you actually sleep, Severus, and not just sit and close your eyes!" The impertinent boy called. "If you don't, no Pepper-Up potion in the world will be enough to keep you awake on a mission where you are leading point."

"And you make sure to set an alarm. I don't want to be the one who has to wake you."

Regulus had been famous within the dorms for being impossible to wake without his own efforts. Buckets of water, loud noises and even pain curses would do nothing, but the alarm from his own wand going off would wake him with a gentle smile and a happy 'Good Morning' that would immediately piss off everyone who had tried to wake him, Severus included. Quite often he would get another painful curse cast his way, just to 'make sure' that he was quite awake.

Making his way up the stairs that led from the basement, he slipped back into the hallway. It was a confusing corridor to navigate, frustratingly simple as it was only a rectangular shape that circled through the first floor. But there were so many off shoots, doorways that led to nowhere, and stairs that went up and then back down to their point of origin, that any enemy or lost souls would find themselves trapped until the Lord of Manor came to get them.

It was a useful piece of magic though, as Slytherin Manor was the center hub of all the Death Eaters activities. While the Dark Lord held a separate manor for his persona as Tom Riddle, the elderly last heir to the Slytherin line, here was where the Dark Lord actually lived, alongside several of his more infamous compatriots. Included amongst them were Greyback and some of his pack, Barty Crouch the outcast son of the Head of the Inquisitors, and the LeStrange family with Bellatrix in tow. A shiver ran down his spine, he really hoped not to meet her this early in the morning.

Reaching the entrance hall he had stood in over 10 hours ago, he pulled out his wand in preparation for apparating. There was a soft sound behind him and he turned on the spot, wand falling down into a defensive position, ready to cast both shield and curse if need be.

"Severus."

"My Lord!" His wand arm feel as quickly as it had risen, while his head fell into a bow.

"I see your reflexes have not fallen despite your exhaustion."

Severus tilted his head further forward in respectful acknowledgment of the compliment.

"Are you leaving already? Surely the Wolfsbane is not yet finished."

They both knew it wasn't, and he realized it likely looked a bit suspicious for him to be leaving the fortress while still in the middle of his 'mission'. He knew, or at least hoped, that the Dark Lord had more faith in him than to believe him possible of abandonment.

"I need a few supplies from my personal stores. You can be assured, as soon as I collect them I will return to rest before finishing the potion."

"Was there something missing from the supplies I provided you? Surely they were sufficient." There was genuine curiosity in his voice, and Severus wondered who had prepared the ingredients in the first place.

"They were more than sufficient, thank-you, my Lord. My supplies are for a different matter... The potion I hope to take before the raid requires the tincture you so generously provided me with, as well as... several other tools that would not be stored even in my Lord's extensive laboratory."

"Ahh..." There was a soft chuckle from the Dark Lord, the humor reflected in bright ruby eyes. "Yes, your fascination with muggle things, how could I forget. You know such things won't win you any allies amongst the Death Eaters."

The Dark Lord smirked down at him, and Severus mirrored the look, as if they were sharing an inside joke.

"My Lord, with all due respect, if I brought the many muggle items I used into the wizarding world, and claimed them as my own invention, no one would ever know the difference. I would be in every textbook and publication from here to kingdom come."

The Dark Lord have a soft chuckle. "Of that, I have no doubt. Good luck on your mission, Severusss..." The greeting trailed back to him as the Dark Lord turned and swept out of the room.

Apparating into his small muggle home, Severus set off down the hall, entering his storage room and packing what he needed into a spare sack that hung from the wall. There was the partially used vial of magical tincture, a Bunsen burner, and aluminum foil. Amongst it all, he added a battery powered, compact version of a centrifuge. In an unused and dusty cabinet that sat off in the far corner of his living room, he pulled a few doxy eggs from where he knew there was a nest.

Next, he headed for the back door in order to collect some stronger, fresher ingredients than would be in the Dark Lord's store. He was momentarily confused as to what his harvesting basket was, but realized he must have left it in the garden when he'd received the call. Stepping out into predawn dark, he lit his wand and found it, knocked over and spilling the now wilted fire tails he'd plucked earlier. If there was more time, he might be able to salvage something of them, but he tossed them into a small compost pile instead.

Black elder flowers, juniper berries, and flying seahorse blossoms were quickly plucked and spelled to stay fresh. It was too early in the morning for any fairies to be flitting about so he hoped the dried wings in the Dark Lord's cupboard would do. A squill bulb was cut at the base of its stem and quickly pinched shut so that none of the juice would escape.

It was an odd potion that he was building in his mind, completely theoretical but still likely to have the wanted effects. A combination of strengthening potion, Pepper Up, and the Dragon's Nectar he had given Lupin, it would hopefully keep him awake and powered up for the two hour run it would take to complete his second mission.

The more he thought about it though, the more of a risk it seemed he was taking. As a potion he had never made before, there was a high chance of failure. The possibility of it not working, of it working too well and sending him on an incongruous rampage, a possible overdose on the dangerous ingredients he was mixing... There were so many factors.

He would simply have to trust his instinct. They had never failed him before.


As the mist and clouds of poison filled the room, both Severus and Regulus kept a careful watch on the large timer counting down to their left. Any missteps now and they would be flayed alive in the Dark Lord's torture room, if not fed to the werewolves they were to be rescuing. Severus focused on his stirring as he accepted bowl after bowl of ingredient, placed in his hand by Regulus before he even had to ask for them. When the last blue petal fell softly from Severus's hand, they could finally take a breath of fresh air.

"That was amazing," were the first words out of Regulus's mouth once he had pulled off his mask and bubble head charm.

Severus felt a small involuntary breath of laughter leave his own mouth. "What do you find so amazing?" He asked, curious as to the childlike glow in the other means eyes.

"I mean, just now! This whole potion was a complicated twist and turn of counting and reaction time while simultaneously risking our lives to complete. And the grande finale? With a whoosh of deadly gas caused by such a tiny delicate little flower, it's over and calm and such a beautiful shade of blue," Regulus rambled on emphatically. "And watching you is like a watching a Master at work. I remember why I enjoyed working with you on potions. You always make it seem so... Magical." The other man laughed, most likely giddy with exhaustion.

"You are remembering that I will be considered a Master soon enough?" Severus said awkwardly at the praise, setting about collecting vials and a cauldron spoon.

"Severus, you've always looked like a Master. Probably since you were a first year." Another snicker. "You were the hermit of Slytherin, who rarely left the dungeons even for meals and lessons, with greased back hair so as not to taint your potions, hands stained with countless hours of work, and that look in your eye when you'd discovered some new combination. I doubt there's anything else could have become, and not for lack of ability." The young pureblood smirked loftily, propping himself up against the counter.

"Hn," he acknowledged, good-humoredly. "And what has the sole heir of the Noble House of Black set off to become since graduating? Already amongst the Death Eaters?"

The other man sighed, some of his good humor slipping away while his shoulders slumped ever so slightly.

"You know there was no choice in the matter. I became the heir after my brother ran away, so of course I'll be entering political studies under my father. And of course I will do my utmost best in supporting our Lord in all matters, but..."

Severus knew where his friend's thoughts lay. His area of interest was a hope that would never be answered. Creature care was far beneath what any pureblood heir would be allowed to handle, something left to the dregs of society. Regulus, though, had always dreamed of flying with dragons, running through a forest with vampires, and swimming with the merpeople.

As a second son, there had once been a slight chance for him picking a profession so far beneath his station. But during the summer between Regulus's 4th and 5th year, Sirius had abandoned his family, leaving him with a non choice, either becoming the heir in his brother's place or breaking his mother's heart by refusing.

Now it seemed, he would be railroaded into becoming that which he had no interest or skill. Surely as could be, he was a pureblood Slytherin through and through, but one who found no enjoyment in playing with and manipulating others' emotions, unlike most of their brethren. A soft hearted snake if there ever was one.

"You caught our Lord's eye today by offering yourself as my assistant. Why not volunteer to be on detail with the werewolves and veela when we've returned?"

"I thought that would be left to someone of higher standing. Maybe yourself or Greyback?"

He scoffed. "Regulus, it's practically grunt work. No one wants to deal with a creature most consider less than human. There may be solidarity in the Dark, but that doesn't mean anyone wants to deal with the logistics of something less than the purebloods who might have been captured. Greyback will of course herd the wolves and return them to their packs, but I, especially, want nothing to do with the beasts."

"So sayeth the man who provides them with the Wolfsbane month after month." There was that cheeky grin that seemed to run in the family. But it was a sign that his sudden suggestion had helped.

"Get your scrawny arse down and bottle these potions. Leave 1 cm of space from the rim." He handed off the ladle and one of the many glass tubes to the nonplussed Black.

"What? Just me?"

"Yes just you. We have 30 minutes left before the squads meet, and I need to make another potion."

"Ooh, are you making a Pepper Up? Can I have some?"

"No." His voice was overly sharp and at Regulus's startled glance he attempted to back pedal. "There is Pepper Up in the cabinet you can drink when you're finished, if you're truly that tired. But I wouldn't risk you drinking this." He ended softly.

A few minutes later, after both of them had begun going about their tasks, a hesitant question reached his ear.

"Should you be risking it?"

Severus sighed. This was why he prefered working alone. There would be no one to question him when he went about dangerous experiments.

"I will know once I'm finished whether it will be safe for human consumption. If I feel there is any danger, I will not be drinking it. But I have been brewing for almost two days straight and there is no Pepper Up in the world that would help me succeed at this next mission. Thus I am left to my own devices."

In fact, he could barely stay upright on his feet as he turned and walked towards a locked cabinet that held finished potions. His mind was not working at its best, and he knew if he didn't take something right now, he would be unable to create any sort of restoration potion. He would likely then collapse before the portkey had finished whisking him away to the northern countries.

He pulled out a small golden stopper from high upon a shelf, hidden from the eyes of other Death Eaters under concealing charms where Severus had placed it a few months earlier. Felix Felicis; Liquid Luck. A successful attempt to work through the complicated mixture that had been the crowning achievement of his mentor. He always trusted his intuition, but lack of sleep would throw him off and he was bound to make a mistake. A drop of this was more than a worthwhile use if it would help him survive the coming trial.

Pulling the dropper from the vial, a sparkling drop off molten gold dangled from its tip. He tilted his head back, and it fell onto his tongue like honey, filled with sweet delicate fortune. As he pulled it away, a second drop fell and slid it's way down his throat.

He cursed. When he had only a limited amount and no wish to spend another 6 months re-brewing, one drop would have been more than enough to help him with his potion. Two was completely unnecessary. Luckily, no pun intended, apart from the waste, it was close enough to inert that it wouldn't interact with anything else he might take, and no one could ever say they had too much luck.

Resigned, he grabbed a slender necked bottle filled with a bubbling bright red substance. Grand Pepper-Up, a step higher than the regular version. He poured a mouthful into a dosage glass, which he set in front of Regulus with a tap, before carrying the rest of the bottle over to his small work station.

A miniscule pot made of aluminum foil was bubbling away over his Bunsen burner, being fed with a conjured pocket of gas at the end of it's tube. Inside were several crushed petals beginning to wilt from the heart as they lay atop a concentrated strengthening mixture. As he arrived in front of it, he dropped in the lace wing flies that had been waiting next to it, before adding a large splash of the red liquid in his hand.

Smoke choked him. A bitter astringent smell that came from combining Grand Pepper Up with a strengthening potion began to fill the bubble of air trapped around his table in order to avoid contaminating the Wolfsbane. It was completely unpleasant, even for a man who combined some of the most noxious components known to wizardkind for a living.

Spinning away next to this was his centrifuge, separating the blood of several types of dragons. The idea came from an amazing discovery he had made in his 5th year, after his mother had gifted him with several pieces of muggle chemistry equipment. Blood separated when spun at high velocity; red blood cells fell to the bottom, while white blood cells lay as a thin layer between that and the plasma. In a muggle, that would be all, but when dealing with magical blood, he had come to find there was a fourth layer. Residual magic. And that layer could be used as a concentrated ingredient.

His wand still pointed at the tinfoil pot, turning it round and round as it flayed over the Bunsen burner, he tapped the spinning contraption and it slowed to a stop. Almost one handed, he pulled the Iron Belly blood from the centrifuge's grasp and set it in a test tube tray. With a syringe, he extracted the sparkling white layer that flayed at the top of the. Adding it to the pot with a hiss, he quickly switched back to drawing out a few drops of red blood cells to add them as well before the whole concoction exploded.

The remaining samples of blood were combined in the same manner, until the potion calmed it's bubbling. It lay flat and smooth, despite the hot flame still blowing beneath it.

Removing it from the heart, he set the crumpled foil before him, filled with thick red liquid. All that was left was the final ingredient.

5 drops of magical tincture.

That was all it would take. He felt as if he were standing on the edge of a precipice, about to take the plunge into a whole new world of potions. If this was successful, he would have found his first useful purpose for the gift he had received from the Dark Lord.

He tilted his hand and one by one, each sparkling drop fell. As the first droplet hit the surface, the blood red potion turned a blinding white the grew brighter and more transparent with each splash. As the fifth drop fell, he felt his hand twitch and two more splashes fell in rapid succession.

7 drops. It would be far too much magic. He hissed through his teeth, and with a thought, a second magical containment sphere had built itself around the table. He took a few more steps back just to be sure. This was the second time in an hour where he had made a mistake. He must be more tired than expected. He really shouldn't be making potions in this state.

"Severus? What's wrong?"

He offered no response, focusing all of his attention on the bowl filled with a fading glow. As moments passed and there was no burst of uncontrolled magic, he edged his way closer to peer inside. For a moment, it seemed as though the makeshift bowl were empty. With a nudge from his wand, he saw a faint image of movement, but no reaction. There was no bubbling, no steam, no sign of eruption. Hesitant at first, he reached a hand through the shield and picked it up.

Though there seemed to be nothing left within the bowl, the movement that came from his hand disturbed the contents just enough that he could see there was a clear liquid held in its silver grasp. It was so transparent as to be practically invisible.

"Is it... Gone?" Regulus's voice was soft, so as not to startle his tense friend.

"No. It's still there."

"Was it supposed to explode? Or not explode?"

"I thought I'd fed it too much magic, but there was no reaction."

"Is it safe to be touching, or drinking?"

Even without the reference to his earlier comment, he was hesitant to drink it. But there was so much riding on this potion.

The Dark Lord was pushing him to his limits, and and this was one mission he could not afford to fail. He was about to enter a werewolf infested hole in the ground, surrounded by enemies and a collapsing environment. He would have allies with him, but many of them were wolves in sheep's clothing, already slipping off their masks as they approached him from behind to stab him in the back they were supposed to protect.

He needed his mind in full working order, but that wasn't yet possible. Even a concentrated energy potion would do little to help him. He needed this to work. But it was terrifying to be risking something so monumental.

This could kill him by draining his magic, or overload his core, leaving him a muggle.

It could do nothing, and he would leave on this mission to be killed by a spell, unable to dodge both enemy and ally while exhausted.

It could work.

Silence filled the large chamber, as Regulus waited for him to react somehow. The nerves that filled his stomach as he started down at the invisible liquid made him want to shout, or throw something, or curse. A muggle reaction, another piece of himself that he had inherited from his father. The one thing he didn't not want to be associated with. But if he was so scared of something magical, something that he had created, he deserved to go back to the muggle world, to rot in his little shack until he died a bitter old man like his father.

Never.

With a burst of energy more suited to a Gryffindor, he held the foil to his lips and downed it in one gulp.

"Sev! What are you…!"

Everything went white.


Soooooo, what do you thiiiink?

I'm excited for what this potion is gonna do to Sevvie. Let me just say, trippy.

Sorry I didn't get to the fighting. You got a mini torture scene instead. Next up, the actual raid. Half written, so hopefully it'll be out sometime this year... 'Orz

NaNoWriMo is coming up, so I'll either pump out a bunch of chapters in a short amount of time, or I might start a 2nd fic I've had bouncing around in my head. I'm really trying to do too much in The Balance, so hopefully, splitting it into two will help... maybe.

There were a couple scenes here where I tried to speed up through the potions because I thought it might get repetitive. But please tell me, do you enjoy the amount of detail I add, should there be a bit less of it in certain areas, or less over all? I try to edit out the unneeded info, but it's still the details that extended these chapters into 10k+ words, and then into two chapters of 10k that I originally intended to be one. I just love describing the images in my head. If I could draw more than stick figures I would be making comics instead of writing.

Please read and review, or even just favorite. I save every single email I get from when someone favorites or comments. Makes me all giddy inside.

Love you, every single one of you who has read this far, even the silent ones. I obsessively watch the hits I get in each chapter, (maybe I should be writing instead? Lol) so, Thank-you all.