Chapter Ten

Victoire sat at the dusty kitchen table in the damp kitchen of Grimmauld Place, alone. Her only company was the crisp new box that held Colin MacLeod's belongings, secured from his surly father hours ago.

She stared at the stack of papers in front of her, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of work she was anticipating doing. They had only done three interviews with family members, and all she found was that Muggle born witches and wizards were straddling a most uncomfortable line of residing in the magical and non-magical worlds. Gideon Tate, Mollie Foster and Colin MacLeod were just three of nearly a hundred people, all of whose families she and Teddy needed to talk to to find a pattern. But some patterns might already be emerging. It all depended on Colin.

Sighing, she lifted open the box of Colin's things. Inside were odds and ends from a life that seemed comfortable and mundane. A parchpad sat idly atop a few books, some quills, a mobile phone, a pair of some very fancy cufflinks, a crumpled up jacket and a…wand.

Victoire lifted the wand gingerly, feeling the warmth spread from the wand to her fingers and up her arm. Magic. She waved it gingerly, and red sparks sputtered from the end of the wand. "Broken," she said, setting the wand down on the table.

Another broken wand, she thought, picking up her pen and making a note on her own parchpad.

She resumed rummaging through the box, shaking out the olive green jacket, searching the pockets and finding only a stick of gum, a Ministry of Magic visitor's token and a ticket to the cinema. She examined the cufflinks, the sapphires glinting gaudily. Setting Colin's parchpad down next to hers, she searched through the edges of the box until she couldn't find anything except dust.

Colin's parchpad sat on the table, and Victoire sat back down on the bench at the kitchen table, opening the parchpad and staring down at Colin's spiky penmanship. His notes were mostly messages he took, a phone number for the water company's billing department, a market list consisting of cheese, beer, bread, milk, jam.

And then there, Victoire saw it. She gasped, and then coughed, her breath catching in her throat as simultaneous shock and confusion washed over her. There was the pattern.

Ministry of Magic. Thursday. 2 pm.

"Well, Lupin," Jamila Khan said, peering over her desk at Teddy. "What do you have?"

Teddy set his notes on Jamila's desk. "I just left Colin MacLeod's father," he started. "Colin's been at St. Mungo's for about two weeks now, but he's been estranged from dear old dad since he left Hogwarts."

"Why?"

"Seems like the old man doesn't exactly like Hogwarts or wizards or magic in general."

Jamila frowned. "Okay. Tell me more."

"So far the indication seems to be that all the Muggle-borns who have been infected go through our world pretty much unencumbered. They live in the Muggle world and our world simultaneously, so finding a trend has been hard."

Jamila stared at Teddy inscrutably. "So…what you're saying is…"

"I need more time," he said finally. "I need at least another week doing interviews daily before I can find a trend for you."

"Very well," Jamila said, standing up and escorting Teddy to the door. "I'll brief Captain Potter on your work. Nice work, Lupin."

Teddy made to leave, but then stopped. "Hey…" he said. "Do you know why the Ministry of Magic received a grant from the Foster Family Foundation?"

Jamila looked surprised for the briefest moment, a manic glint in her eye, before she resumed her normal demeanor. She shrugged. "The Foster Family Foundation?"

"Yes. One of the…victims—she was visiting the Ministry prior to her being infected to check up on the work of a grant that her family gave to the Ministry. But I'm confused why the Ministry of Magic would pursue a grant from a Muggle family foundation. Wouldn't the financials alone violate the International Statute of Secrecy?"

Jamila bit her lip now, looking thoughtful. "Hm," she replied. "That is curious. I can certainly ask Captain Potter when I brief him. I'm not privy to major financial decisions made within the Ministry. But we know he's got a good relationship with the Minister of Magic."

Teddy grinned. "Understatement of the year."

Suddenly, a voice came from Jamila's office. "Auror Khan? This is Jackson calling in."

"Ah, blast!" Jamila said. "Thanks, Lupin. Keep up the good work!" She dashed back inside her office, and Teddy took his leave.

It wasn't until he was down in the massive atrium that he felt a pair of gray eyes following him. He turned abruptly, feeling a chill down his spine as he spotted Hannah Priest perched at the edge of the Fountain of Magical Brethren, her long legs crossed as she beamed at Teddy. She raised her hand in a gesture of recognition, and he found himself raising his own hand, waving to her.

"Hey," he said, approaching her.

"Hello," she replied, her full lips stretched into a grin. "Fancy seeing you here."

"I got your owl, but, er, I got busy. Sorry."

Hannah shrugged. "When I didn't hear back from you, I assumed you had gotten back together with Valerie."

"Victoire."

Hannah's grin widened. "Ah, yes," she said. "French for victory. What a curious name."

"We're not back together," Teddy said, not sure why he was spouting off that he and Victoire were not together, not in the least and that he was very much available. Something about Hannah made him confused, his brain muddled by the effect she had on him.

"What are you doing here anyway?"

It was Teddy's turn to grin. "I kind of work here now."

Hannah goggled at him. "You…work here? But you're a writer!"

"I'm a reporter," he corrected. "Harry—that is, Auror Potter offered me a contract position in his department while they hire more people."

"So…will I see more of you?"

Teddy hesitated. "Hannah," he said. "I'm pretty busy right now." He paused, his brain feeling fuzzy. "But I would like to see you again."

She brightened. "Great!" She hopped off the edge of the fountain, smoothing her thin black dress over her thighs. "See you soon then."

Teddy couldn't help but feel as if Hannah were testing him somehow, and he vowed to see her one last time to tell her that he wasn't interested in her like that.

Victoire paced the length of the kitchen at Grimmauld Place.

The Ministry. Someone at the Ministry is poisoning these people.

Her heart was hammering against her ribcage, a persistent thundering inside her chest. She checked her watch nervously. It was nearly three; Teddy should be back from his meeting by now. She had to tell him what she'd found. She needed to keep him away from the goddamn Ministry of Magic, where somehow he had managed to snag a job.

Nothing is a coincidence, she thought. Avi's illness. Mrs. Garrido coming to her about Greyback. Teddy's job. Nothing felt like an accident all of a sudden, and she couldn't wait to have Teddy back with her, safe.

After pacing for fifteen more minutes, she contemplated sending her Patronus over to find Teddy. Her panic had started to spike, making her dizzy with the endless possibilities of why he wasn't back yet. He's in danger, her brain repeated. You have to keep him safe.

Finally, she made to pull out her wand as she heard a soft whoosh and a familiar blue head of hair strolled into the kitchen, shrugging off his bag as he walked in. She flew to him, stopping herself before she had flung her arms around her neck with worry.

"Where the hell have you been?" she hissed.

"I told you I had a meeting," he said in an annoyed tone. "Remember? At the Auror office?" He paused, looking down at her. Her face was lined with worry, her lips set in a firm line. "I got us some food?" He gestured at the paper bag he was holding, lifting it up lamely.

"Have you seen Harry?" Victoire asked, ignoring the bag from which were emanating the mouthwatering smells of fish and chips. "We need to go find him immediately."

Teddy set bag down on the table. "I didn't see him," he said. "I don't even know where he is."

"We need to go," Victoire said. "We need to go to the house, find out where he is and tell him what I found."

"Whoa, whoa," Teddy said, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Calm down. Let's sit and eat and you can tell me what you found out."

She glared at him, but then her eyes fell, her blonde eyelashes the only thing he could focus on. "Teddy. I think I know what's happening here. Someone at the Ministry is…it's someone at the Ministry!" She reached up to grip his wrist, the two of them holding one another almost combatively, but with a gentleness that each found deeply comforting. She never wanted to let go, his pulse beating valiantly against her fingers, his hands warm on her shoulders.

Teddy nodded, dropping his hands. Victoire felt a lurch of disappointment as she released his wrists. "Okay," he said. "Let's go."

They landed in the Floo Hub at the Ministry of Magic, both dashing across the atrium and mounting the lift, Teddy pushing the button to get him to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Victoire stood a bit behind him. She knew she risked being sent home again if Uncle Harry or Aunt Hermione saw her here, but as long as Teddy was safe, too, she didn't feel too badly about going home now.

Wordless, they leapt off the lift, jogging past a bespectacled house elf who was shouting, "Mr. Lupin! Wait!"

Teddy skidded to a halt, looking around. The glass doors all looked directly into nearly all empty offices. He whirled around, facing Victoire. "You can't be here," he said. "If Harry sees you—"

Her eyes widened, but she nodded. "Of course. Yes."

"Go back downstairs. Wait for me."

Her eyes were wide, unblinking. She reached out, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze. "Remember. Only tell Harry. No one else."

She looked into his eyes, and in that moment, Teddy knew that—at least this time-they understood each other perfectly. She then turned around and walked briskly back toward the lift. Teddy watched her go, her ponytail swaying to and fro as she disappeared down the corridor, slipping into the lift and turning to face him. As the doors closed, he found himself staring directly into her determined eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but the doors slid shut before she could and the lift was yanked back abruptly, taking her with him.

He turned back, his head suddenly aching and his mind feeling strangely clear, devoid of all thought except to get to Harry as fast as he could. Victoire would have been proud—she did things with a single-mindedness that he had always admired. He, on the other hand, usually had difficulty making decisions and was unable to commit to much of anything without hemming and hawing about it for days.

He turned and strode down the corridors, unnerved by how empty it was. The normal bustle of this office was replaced by an eerie stillness. Still, Teddy found the glass door with the nickel plaque next to it labeled "Harry Potter. Head Auror." He glanced in, and saw Harry's empty desk. He pushed the glass door open, stepping into the office. He'd been here a number of times, but not since he'd started working here.

The office smelled like Harry, a combination of soap, coffee and an indescribable metallic tang. Teddy closed his eyes briefly, allowing himself to be comforted by the familiar aroma. It was, after all, this smell that Teddy had been accustomed to his whole life. Harry, who had been there for him for everything. Harry, who loved Teddy the way he loved his own children. Harry, who never left without saying goodbye and who always came back. Harry, who stayed.

Teddy moved around to Harry's desk, looking at the untidy surface. Despite Harry's valiant attempts to tidy up, he had always been a bit disorganized. Hesitating, Teddy shifted some papers around on the desk, hoping to find something that would tell him where Harry might be at this exact moment. He had contemplated sending an owl or a Patronus, but those would take time, and time they didn't have.

"What are you doing?" A sharp voice sliced through the office. He looked up. Jamila was standing in the office, her eyes narrowed. "You can't be here going through the Captain's stuff."

Teddy jerked his hand away from the desk, a deep flush coming over his cheeks.

"Thank Merlin you're here," Teddy said. "I need to talk to Harry."

"Harry?"

"Er—I mean, Auror Potter."

"And I suppose that's why you've snuck into his office and are snooping through his stuff."

"I'm not snooping," Teddy said defensively. "I was looking for a calendar because there's no one here—where is everyone by the the way?—and I need to find Harry."

Jamila cleared her throat, and Teddy could tell he was about to be berated. "No one is here, Lupin, because there's an urgent matter that requires nearly all our attention."

"Nearly?"

"I'm here, and a few others. You just happened to drop by after they had left."

"Where's Harry?"

"He's in the field, Lupin."

Teddy's mind swam with panic. His stomach twisted with anxiety. "But he doesn't do field work anymore," Teddy blurted out. "He hasn't since-"

Jamila raised a hand. "I'm going to stop you right there, Lupin. The Head Auror always, always does field work. You're right that he's retired from frequent field work, but we have a operation that is going…badly."

"I need to speak with him!" Teddy said, his voice louder than he'd intended it to be.

"I'm his second in command. Whatever you need to tell him, you can tell me."

Teddy hesitated, and Jamila's cheeks colored. He had embarrassed her by being being reticent; he had questioned her status, which she had inarguably worked hard for. But Victoire had said to keep their findings low key, their suspicions that it could be anyone at the Ministry infecting Muggle-borns with werewolf genes keeping them mum except to Harry.

"Very well," Jamila finished. "If you can't tell me, then it must not be that urgent."

"I need something," Teddy blurted out. "Logs. Visitor logs."

"Visitor logs from where?" Jamila inquired coldly. Teddy knew he had shot his shot with her. She wasn't going to indulge him any longer. She crossed her arms tightly, her dark eyes clouded with judgement.

"From…here."

"The Department's visitor logs are confidential, Lupin. We work with witnesses, who need to be protected."

He shook his head. "No, no…from the Ministry."

Her eyebrows shot up. "What on earth do you need Ministry of Magic visitor logs for?"

"I…can't say."

"Well, you can't get those without Captain Potter's approval. He's the head of the department, and he approves anything of that sort."

"When will he be back?"

Jamila laughed, a cold, mirthless laugh. "Not anytime soon."

"Well—" Teddy sputtered. "Can't you do it? You're my supervisor!"

"Ministry logs are official, government documents, Lupin."

"Then they should be available for the public!"

Jamila dropped her arms in exasperation. "Look, Lupin," she started. "You weren't born yet so you may not remember what happened during the last war. But Voldemort and his followers used those logs to track who came and went from here and for what purpose. They then used that information to see who had power, who had Muggle-born sympathies. He punished those people or used them for his fucked up mission. They've been classified. Only the Minister of Magic and certain department heads can access them en masse. Captain Potter is one of those department heads. Without him, you can't get them."

Teddy's face broke out into a manic grin suddenly, half of an idea knocking around in his head. "You're bloody brilliant, you know that?" Teddy said to Jamila, jogging past her while she stared at him quizzically.

"Nope. No. Way."

"Come on! It's the only way!"

"She'll tell my bloody dad!"

"She won't. Not if you ask her not to."

Victoire glared at Teddy as they walked into a small park to go over what Teddy had discovered.

"Why can't you do it?" she asked him. "Aunt Hermione loves you!"

"I can't go over Harry's head," Teddy explained, slurping an iced coffee from a cup. It was a sweltering day, and all the ice in his cup had melted, leaving behind a watered down mess of coffee and milk. "It'll look bad for my job."

"For the last time, you're a reporter! This is a contract."

"Hermione adores you. She helped you a ton with—" He stopped, not wanting to bring up the Pensieve. Victoire, thankfully, took the hint and stopped.

"What would I even tell her I was doing with the visitor logs? No one knows I'm helping you."

"That we can manage," Teddy said with a grin, and Victoire began to wonder if she'd ever tire of seeing him smile. He looked over at her pleadingly, and she looked back.

Finally, she rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll do it."

The following morning, Hermione Granger-Weasley, Minister of Magic, had just started sipping her daily morning tea when she noticed the screech owl sitting in her kitchen.

"Bloody hell," she exclaimed, as she had turned to find herself nose-to-beak with the creature. The owl blinked sleepily, and Hermione sighed.

The bird did not startle. It simply stuck its leg out, looking unimpressed. Hermione pulled the scroll of parchment from the owl, gave it an owl nut and watched it raise its mighty wings, sail across her kitchen and out the window. She unrolled the parchment and read:

Dear Aunt Hermione,

I'm in London, and I'm hoping you could sign a letter of recommendation for a Healer program in Peru. Could I drop by your office for you signature today? The deadline is tomorrow, or I wouldn't ask.

Your niece,

Victoire Weasley

Hermione raised her eyebrows. Victoire had owled Hermione in the past, especially regarding academic matters, but she rarely requested to meet with such urgency.

Hermione of course knew that Victoire was in London, and knew that she was studying at St. Mungo's. She also knew that Victoire wasn't currently in classes at St. Mungo's, and that she had run away not only from her parents from her grandparents as well. Bill and Fleur Weasley had put out an all-points bulletin to the entire Weasley clan requesting that Victoire return to Shell Cottage at once, believing that someone was housing Victoire surreptitiously. As far as Hermione knew, Victoire had taken a several days holiday to escape her stressful family and hadn't shared where she had gone.

She wrote back a quick note, attached it to her own owl's leg and sent it off to Victoire. She then began getting ready for the day, mentally preparing the letter she would write to Bill Weasley about the whereabouts of his daughter.

"Victoire!" Hermione exclaimed as Victoire entered her office. Victoire had tried to clean up before coming to see her aunt, but her t-shirt and jeans still seemed drab and extremely plain next to Hermione's smart, printed robes with the official Ministry of Magic insignia stamped proudly over the heart. "My dear, we've all been worried sick. Your dad's on quite the rampage."

Victoire's stomach dropped. Her parents were panicking, and here she was about to deceive her aunt. "I just—er—needed some peace and quiet. Needed to figure out what's happening next for me."

Hermione nodded. "I very much understand. You're going to Peru?"

"Well, I've been chatting with Uncle Charlie who says there's a need for a Healer trainee in Cusco." This wasn't a lie per se. Victoire had considered taking her uncle up on his offer and joining him in Peru where he was a dragon tender.

"Have you told your mum and dad about leaving to go to South America?"

Victoire shook her head. "I haven't been accepted yet. I need a reference and then I can apply." Again, not quite another lie. She did need a reference—and she had one. Her uncle.

Hermione sighed. "Vic," she started. "I know what you're up to. I know you're working with Teddy."

Victoire tried to contort her face into a kind of amused surprise, but she knew she was failing. She was, and always had been, a terrible liar. "I don't know what you're talking about." Hermione snorted.

"You're no good at this," Hermione said. "The duplicitous life does not suit you."

"I did help him a bit," she admitted. "But no more. I just need your signature, Aunt Hermione." And your silence, she thought to herself.

Hermione sighed. "Vic, you're an adult. But I wish you'd tell us all what's going on with you. You and Teddy…everything that's happened…"

"It's not about that," Victoire said sharply, and Hermione knew to drop the subject.

"Very well, dear. Let's see that letter of recommendation."

Victoire reached into her purse, and pulled out a rolled up scroll of parchment tied with a blue ribbon. She handed it across the desk to Hermione. Her aunt took the scroll and unrolled it, perched her eyeglasses on her nose and began to read.

Victoire took this time to look around Hermione's circular office. The office was big, high-ceilinged, nearly the size of the drawing room at Grimmauld Place, and well-furnished. Hermione sat behind a magnificent, gleaming oak desk, and Victoire herself was perched on a comfortable yet elegant upholstered chair. The large windows behind Hermione's desk were bewitched to look like London, and Victoire couldn't help but admire the magic. The streets were bustling with people, and the bridge even had cars driving back and forth on it. The rest of the wall was, of course, bookshelves.

Hermione's term as Minister of Magic had been peaceful and prosperous. The Magical economy usually hummed around with little interruption from the Ministry, but Hermione's various interventions had somehow resulted in a jobs boom, with a number of industries popping up out of nowhere. Hermione's chief accomplishment thus far, though, had been her Elf Emancipation Act, a tricky piece of legislation that guaranteed freedom to all house elves in the magical world. House elves were now guaranteed wages, health benefits and vacation, and all class of magical creatures were given full voting rights.

"Well, this looks about right," Hermione said, pulling off her glasses and smiling up at Victoire. "I didn't know you were interested in South America."

Victoire nodded fervently, letting some hair escape from her ponytail. "Oh yeah," she replied. "Uncle Charlie's been trying to get me to come down there for ages and with everything happening here—" She gestured fruitlessly. "I figured Peru was safe. Their Healer is retiring at the end of next year, and they'll need a new one soon enough."

Hermione smiled again. "Ah, adventure," she sighed, grabbing a fancy looking ink pen. "I always wanted to travel. See the world."

"You still have time," Victoire said, her eyes focused beadily on the pen.

Hermione laughed. "I do a bit of travelling for this job, mind you," she said, chuckling and still holding the pen. How much damn time did it take to sign something anyway? "Just last month I went to beautiful Canada!"

Victoire smiled, and then realizing that Hermione was making a joke, she attempted a feeble laugh. "I've heard good things."

"Have you, dear?" Hermione said, now peering down at the paper she was holding. "Where would you like for me to sign?"

Victoire stood up abruptly, nearly knocking the chair over and went around the desk, trying not to seem hurried. "Oh, er, right there." She pointed at a small X at the bottom of the paper.

Hermione poised her pen for a moment, and Victoire began to wonder if she was ever going to sign the damn thing when Hermione scrawled her neat, curved signature on the paper. "Here you are, Vic," she said, handing Victoire the paper.

"Oh, thank you so much, Aunt Hermione," Victoire said, stowing the paper away in her purse and turning to leave.

"One moment, Vic," Hermione said. Victoire resisted groaning. She needed to leave—but Teddy would want her to stay. She was terrible at lying and the less time she had to do this, the better it would be.

"Yes?"

"Your dad's worried sick about you," Hermione said, gesturing that Victoire should sit down. "I should be honest—I was surprised you contacted me for such a small matter as a reference letter." Hermione paused, her intelligent brown eyes boring in Victoire's. "Has something happened at home?"

"What? No. Everything's fine."

"Why have you run away?"

Victoire swallowed hard. She felt beads of sweat break out onto her brow and upper lip, and her heart hammered inside her chest. "I haven't…run away," she started, trying her mightiest to not sound frustrated with her aunt. "I'm just…on sabbatical. From them."

Hermione sighed, rubbing her temples with her fingers. "You've always been the best behaved, Vic," Hermione said. "You love your family."

Now Victoire felt a twinge of annoyance. Is it any of your business? "I'm not…misbehaving," she said. "I just need a break from them. I'm not a child, but since I've moved back in with them, they keep treating me like one. This isn't what I wanted, you know. I…had plans. I was going to live…in London."

Hermione's expressed softened slightly. "I know it's been hard for you. I know things didn't turn out the way you expected them to, and I'm sorry for that.

The two women stared at each other, and Victoire could have sworn she saw Hermione's eyes glisten momentarily before she looked down and then up again in rapid succession. "Call your mum, Vic," Hermione said. "She wants to hear from you."

"Please don't tell them I was here," Victoire said, feeling humiliated by the begging tone in her voice. "I'll call them. But I need to do it…alone."

Hermione smiled, and then stood up. Victoire followed her lead as they walked to the door together. Hermione set her slender hand on the doorknob, and turned to Victoire. "You remind me of someone."

"Who?"

"Harry."

Teddy gaped as Victoire presented the signed paper to him, brandishing it like a banner in front of his face.

"I can't believe she didn't check it!"

"You said it yourself: she trusts me," Victoire said, ignoring the guilty ripple in her chest.

"She bloody well does."

They stared at the paper Hermione signed, now transfigured back into its original form: a letter allowing Teddy to get out as many Ministry of Magic Visitor's Logs as he pleased.

"Well?" Victoire asked, breaking the silence. "What are you waiting for? Go get the logs."

"Aren't you coming?"

"I'll be waiting. I'll be here waiting for you." She sat down on the little sofa in the drawing room at Grimmauld Place.

He grinned at her, and left. She could hear him jogging down the stairs, and then she heard the door close. She waited a beat, making sure he was gone, that he hadn't forgotten anything.

And then she cried, burying her face in her hands. She wasn't sure why she was crying at first, but images raced through her mind as she unleashed a torrential rush of tears. Avi and his freckles. Her dad, grinning at her. Hermione, looking at her with pure trust. She saw Harry and Ginny and Dominique and Bianca. And then, finally, she saw Teddy—how he was the day they had broken up: stoic, insistent, and most of all, not in love with her.

"The Minister signed this?" the house elf behind the visitor's desk said, raising her eyebrows.

"That's her signature." Teddy resisted the urge to snatch the paper back and run away.

"Let me just give her office a call," the house elf said, lifting her long-fingered hand, ready to call her own Patronus. Teddy was curious—he had never seen a house elf's Patronus before—but he knew that he could not let the elf call Hermione's office.

"Are you sure you want to bother her?" Teddy said. "With everything going on?"

The house elf looked appraisingly at Teddy, but then shrugged. "Very well," she squeaked. "I'll be right back."

Teddy wasn't sure how long he was waiting, but when the elf returned, she was holding a slim book with an emerald green cover. She set it down on the desk in front of Teddy. He picked it up—it felt light, like a feather.

"This is it?"

"You search by date," the elf said.

Teddy opened the book tentatively. The first page was blank, and when he flipped cursorily through the pages, he found that they were all blank.

"Er—sorry, but—how?"

The elf tutted impatiently. "Speak the date into the spine."

Teddy grabbed the book, thanked the elf, and made his way into the atrium of the Ministry. It was nearly empty, and after making sure neither Hermione nor Harry were there, he whispered, "Fifth July," into the spine of the book. It quivered in his hand and then sprang open. Each page was now filled with names in all different kinds of handwriting.

His eyes scanned down the page until he found Gideon Tate's spiky signature. His finger glided over the entry. Gideon entered the Ministry in the morning. And he was visiting—

Teddy's breath caught in his throat when he saw the name, right there, plain as day.

Hannah Priest.

Author's Note(s):

1. Chapter hasn't been edited so sorry about that! I proofread for any major issues, but please let me know if you spot anything.

2. Next chapter is being drafted right now! Stay tuned!

3. Read & review if you like the chapter. :)