Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction using characters and entities from the Wizarding World trademarked by J. K. Rowling. Original plots, dialogue, and characters are mine.

Synopsis: The diplomatic tour officially begins

Songs that inspired the chapter:
The Entire album: Coldplay – A Rush Of Blood To The Head

Triggers/Squicks: This story has dealt with political themes including unrest and displacement. To this point, our characters have only dealt with these issues in meetings and summaries. This chapter includes detailed accounts of the unrest happening in other parts of this fictional world. If you have triggers related to war, the rest of this fic may contain some events that could be found triggering. You can read up until they arrive at Beauxbatons Academy.

Canon Non-Compliance: Okay, I mentioned it earlier, but I lost a bit of Cursed Child canon compliance. I omitted the fact that Theodore Nott is responsible for the time turner. He was mentioned briefly in chapter three at the engagement party, but he doesn't say anything.

I have been writing Theo in a few other fics and I ADORE him as comic relief, so I hope you enjoy him.

Chapter 25: Politik

April 2030

Knock! Knock! Knock! Miss Traynor raps on the door of the Belle Etoile Suite master bedroom. "Minister? Are you awake?" Allie questions, hoping the Minister is ready to start the day.

"Yes! " she says enthusiastically from the other side of the door.

"Great. Will you—"

" Oh, God! Yes! "

Mortified, Allie says to herself, "Merlin. She is not talking to me." The young witch casts a silencing charm. Auror Montague makes his way over, also looking determined to speak to Hermione. Allie grabs him by the arm and says, "Let's give them another twenty minutes."

—xoxox—

Draco and Hermione stroll into the sitting room for breakfast, looking positively joyous—and downright obvious in their afterglow. As Draco makes his way to the buffet table and helps himself to a chocolate croissant and coffee, Evan asks him, "Good morning I presume?"

With a smirk and a cocked eyebrow he says, "The best ."

"Well, double down on your coffee. It's going to be a long day. Don't forget. You're here on business, not leisure," he says with cheeky accusation.

"Aye aye, captain," Draco acknowledges jokingly.

Hermione comes up to them after a quick chat with Allie and sees the two men sharing a laugh.

"What are you two on about?" she asks.

"Oh, just being reprimanded and reminded to drink lots of coffee," Draco responds kissing her forehead.

"Mmm hmm…" she says skeptically wondering if they were up to something. "Evan, are we all here? You ready to give the debriefing?"

"Yes. Excuse me, I'll gather everyone's attention," he says as he walks toward the center of the room.

Hermione grabs a slice of quiche and leans into Draco and says, "I'm so knackered. I can't believe you woke me up for another round."

"You didn't seem to mind," he drawls before taking a seductive bite of his pastry. She rolls her eyes and cracks a smile. "Why aren't you wearing the necklace," he says a bit deflated.

"Because I need to dress patriotically in the day. That gorgeous green emerald doesn't quite work with red and blue suits. I promise I'll wear it with my gown at the State Dinner," she says and kisses him on the cheek.

"Fair enough. Or you can wear nothing but the necklace to bed tonight," he slyly suggests.

She bites her lip, already imagining the scenario but has to snap herself out of it. It is a big day and will require the utmost professionalism and class—which can be difficult when your translator looks dead sexy in a tailored suit. They make their way to a large sofa reserved for them with printed agendas on the coffee table. They sit and nibble on their breakfasts. Draco squints as he attempts to review the documents. He eventually gives up and takes out his reading glasses. Hermione realizes she had forgotten a drink.

"I'm sorry, could someone please grab me a coffee? Black, please," she asks her staff. Allie brings a cup straight away, avoiding her boss's eyes. "Allie, are you feeling alright? Something on your mind?"

"I'm fine, Minister. Just ready to get the day started." Allie smiles awkwardly trying not to let her boss's sex noises replay in her head.

"Alright. Get something to eat, dear. You're looking pale."

"Yes, ma'am." Allie makes her way to the buffet, heeding Hermione's advice.

"Excuse me. Can I have everyone's attention please?" Montague's voice booms through the murmurs and hustle and bustle of the sitting room. "Thank you. You should all have an itinerary in front of you. If not, please raise your hand." A few hands around the room go up in response. "Allie, can you please distribute the extras? Thank you. Today kicks off with a bang. We head to the French Minister's Mansion and Minister Granger has a meet and greet with the French Minister. It will be all hand shaking for the cameras, formal lunch; then she'll deliver a speech, followed by a private audience with the French government to discuss economics and the refugee situation. She won't be alone with Minister Dupree. Translators, one personal assistant, one photographer, and two members of security will be present."

Evan looks at the aforementioned key team members and the nod in acknowledgment. "Good. Dinner will be here. Tomorrow we will be visiting Beauxbatons and the refugee students. Madame Beaumont has already selected the students who will meet with Minister Granger, and backgrounds check out. While there, it will be the standard school tour, assembly, student meet and greet etcetera. We'll also be going into the town of Beauxvallée right outside the school to meet with the refugee parents—security will be increased. We will conclude our trip with dinner at the school."

Montague looks up at the dignitaries and staff; thankfully they are all still listening. "Our final day will be spent visiting businesses on the Rue des Mystères and the surrounding muggle area. It should be a fairly relaxed day as talking to the business owners is purely for photo ops. The evening will be followed by the State Dinner, and off to the next city in the morning. Any questions?"

He looks around and sees everyone comfortable with the situation. "Good. Make sure your extendable bags are packed with everything important, just in case."

Hermione's eyes widen, and she leans into Draco, "You have the camera, right?"

Draco chuckles and says, "Of course. I even have a separate memory card. No one's getting those photos. I'm going to have a coffee table book made for my room."

She blushes and nudges his side, "Cheeky."

As the fireplace in the hotel expands, it erupts in green flames.

"I guess that's our cue," Draco states.

—xoxox—

The day's political formalities are pleasant, especially with Minister Dupree sharing many of Minister Granger's policies. However, there are a few times during the private audiences, Allie needs to shoot a cooling spell to keep Hermione and Draco awake.

As per usual, Hermione's speech was inspirational, but the follow-up questions were gossip-ridden. Draco had to remind himself to bite his tongue and not intervene. She handles the situation with such style and grace; his mother would have been proud.

With the dinner being held at the hotel, Hermione invited Draco's in-laws, Theodore and Daphne Nott. They have lived in France since shortly after the rebuilding of Hogwarts. When they received the Minister's invitation, they immediately accepted.

Truthfully, Hermione didn't have any issues with either Theodore or Daphne while at school. Theo was a bit socially awkward and kept to himself. Daphne may have been friends with Pansy Parkinson, but she never joined in any taunting. The Notts were clever and were in almost all of Hermione's advanced classes. On more than one occasion, Hermione teamed up with the pair of Slytherins for school projects.

When the Notts arrive at the hotel, they are put through several security measures and have their wands taken for inspection. Once given the go-ahead, they proceed to hug Hermione and Draco and kiss their cheeks. Parisian customs have clearly become the norm for the pure-bloods and take Hermione and Draco by surprise.

Daphne grasps Hermione's hands between her own and says, "It's so good to see you, Hermione. I knew something was going on at the engagement party." The elegant blonde seems not to have aged past thirty-five. "I want you to know. Tori would be happy. Draco looks happy, and that's all she ever wanted."

The woman's smile and kind words affect Hermione, and she returns it with yet another hug. "Thank you, Daphne," she says sincerely, thankful to have Draco's family's blessing.

Out of earshot of the women, Theo says to Draco, "You son of a bitch."

"I'm sorry, dear Theodore, I have no idea what you're on about," Draco shrugs.

"Arsehole. I talked to Blaise. The entire time at school? Really? It took you almost forty bleeding years for you to nut up and make her yours?" Theo teases.

Draco laughs, "Well, both of us had to grow up and wait for the right time. If I did it back then, we'd probably be dead. Also, my dear brother-in-law, we wouldn't be related."

"Fair point. Come here you old sod," Theo grabs him around the neck and gives him another hug.

"Theo," Draco says uncomfortable with the amount of affection, "You've become too French."

"Oh!" Daphne exclaims. "We were going to tell you over dinner, but we're returning to Britain! We'll be grooming Simon to take over Crosslip Heights, the Nott home, and Arabella will be taking over Meadow Hall, my family home, with her fiance Pierre Joubert, of Joubert Apothecaries. Both the estates have fallen in such disrepair. We just couldn't ignore them anymore."

"That and the fact you're shagging the minister, Draco. When we head home, no one will think twice about my Death Eater father," Theo says so nonchalantly it takes Hermione by surprise. She only knew quiet, studious Theodore Nott. This must be the version of himself he only shows to friends.

Daphne smacks him upside the head. "Darling, must you be so crass? You've only had two glasses of wine. Could you please behave yourself for the rest of the evening?"

"Sorry, my love. Just being back with Draco makes me regress to my teenage self." Theo takes Hermione's hand and kisses it. "I apologize for my actions, Minister."

"All is forgiven, Theodore. Truthfully, we're all old enough that most people don't remember who was and wasn't a Death Eater."

Theo winces as the truth dawns on him, "Well that's just depressing. Not only do I have gray pubes now, my father is considered ancient history."

The four of them all laugh and make their way to dinner.

—xoxox—

The next day, the group arrives via secure floo to Beauxbatons, with Minister Dupree awaiting. He tours the group around the grand castle and lush gardens. The school is something truly remarkable, reminding Hermione of a Muggle fairy tale. As almost everyone working for the Ministry graduated from Hogwarts, they couldn't help but stare in awe.

They pop into different classrooms to make surprise visits, including a choir room and drama class.

"They have a performing arts program here?" Draco says stunned.

"Of course, Monsieur Malfoy. 'Ogwarts does not?" Minister Dupree asks.

"They didn't when we attended," Hermione interjects. "Such a shame. Draco was a brilliant songwriter."

Hermione's joke is not lost on Draco, and he pinches her side, making her wriggle at his touch.

Madame Beaumont had arranged to have the minister meet the refugee children in a more intimate setting, over lunch and away from the great hall. A teachers' lounge has been decorated for their arrival. The room had been cleared of the usual worn, comfortable furniture, and replaced with several round tables with white linens and centerpieces of white roses and lavender. Truthfully, the room is beautiful without the additional decorations. The antique silk-covered walls frame the large windows, decorated with clear and stained glass that overlook the hedge maze.

Hermione, Draco, and Minister Dupree are escorted to their table while their staff members take seats at the other tables. The heavy wooden doors creak as Madame Beaumont enters and six children follow. Hermione's eyes go straight to a girl, not older than thirteen holding the hand of a boy no older than six. A boy around the age of sixteen walks in last, with slumped shoulders, nervously messing with his long hair and uniform collar.

"Minister Dupree, Minister Granger, Monsieur Malfoy, may I introduce Yara, Rima, Amira, little Mahdi, Farid, and Qasim." The headmistress cues the children to acknowledge the politicians and Draco.

As the students nod and wave nervously, Hermione rises out of her seat and comes around to greet them each personally. Realizing their major faux pas, the men follow suit. As she shakes the hand of each child, she makes an effort to find one thing to compliment them on—their beautiful eyes, smile, a trinket they were holding, a necklace, their posture—something to show them she noticed them and they were special. Hermione even went as far as to tuck the little ones in their chairs and pat them on the heads. The headmistress didn't interrupt Hermione but watches with admiration for her kindness and sincerity.

The children are quiet and are unsure of what to say, but they smile and look happy to be there. Hermione and Draco know those looks well, also having been children of war. He takes her hand and kisses it. This makes the girls at the table giggle, and the tension diffuses a little.

"You know, I loved school," Hermione says to the children.

Draco chuckles and says, "That's an understatement."

The boys start laughing too, except the long-haired boy, Qasim, who still seems guarded.

Hermione shoots Draco a playful look and shakes her head. "Do you all like going to school? What about you, little one?"

Mahdi smiles brightly and bobs his head up and down, "Yes, ma'am! I love school. I don't have to hide my magic."

"My, my! Your English is wonderful!" Hermione exclaims as the boy beams.

"Minister, five of these children were rescued from Halabiye Academie, where they had an excellent language program. Most children speak Arabic, Kurdish, French, and English," Madame Beaumont explains. "But Mahdi here is a prodigy, not only in languages but magic as well."

"My brother was a target," Amira pipes up. "I was away at school when I received an urgent letter by falcon from my mother." The girl swallows hard as she tries to put the words together. "The Blessed Dark Brotherhood learned of my brother's power. My mother was tutoring him at home until he was old enough to attend school, but knowledge of Mahdi's abilities spread quickly. One night, the Brotherhood took my father right from his bed. It was only because Mahdi had a nightmare my mother wasn't taken. You see, she was in his room soothing him when they came."

The little boy puts his face in his sister's lap and covers his ears, not wanting to recount this tale.

Amira strokes her little brother's hair and continues as tears stream down her face. "As they came into the room, Mahdi had a burst of accidental magic, blowing the intruders into the walls so hard it caused the house to collapse. My mother had just enough time to grab our falcon and a few supplies, before she and Mahdi hopped on the carpet, heading to the school for refuge."

The other children lowered their heads and tried to wipe away the silent tears.

"Amira, you can stop if you want to," Madame Beaumont says.

"No, my story is important. The ministers need to hear it." The strength and determination in the young girl's voice reminded Hermione of her own. Amira starts again, "Simorgh, our bird, arrived maybe an hour or two before my mother and brother came. We had just enough time to fortify the school and call for assistance. I was so happy to see Mama and Mahdi. But—" she wipes the tears that are now falling in giant droplets "—they were right behind Mama. She forgot to use a cloaking spell. She...she...was so scared, too scared to think. She made Mahdi run to me, and she took her stand next to the teachers and aurors. We were shuffled away, but I couldn't tear my eyes away. Mama fought so bravely, but she wasn't good enough. She was petrified, they snapped her wand, and then the green light."

Amira takes her little brother in her arms and hugs him tightly as they weep.

Once again, Hermione leaves her seat. She doesn't wipe her tears away. She wants everyone to see her tears. She wants everyone to know that these children and their stories mean something to her. Hermione kneels next to Amira and Mahdi, kissing them both on the forehead. She places a hand on each of their cheeks and tells them, "Your mother is a hero. She died protecting you. Did you know, that a mother's love is some of the most powerful magic in the world?"

They shake their heads side-to-side. Hermione smiles, "My best friend, Harry Potter. Have you heard of him?" They nod their heads up and down excitedly in acknowledgment. "Well, when Harry was a baby, his mummy died protecting him too. Her love and magic protected him from the darkest wizard of our age. I believe that your mum's love protects you now and you are so lucky to have each other." Hermione scoops the two children in her arms in a warm motherly embrace. She feels their tension disappear in her arms.

When she releases them, instead of taking her seat next to Draco, she takes Mahdi's seat and pops him on her lap.

Draco looks over to her and mouths, "I love you."

She mouths back to him, "I love you, too."

Minister Dupree takes out a handkerchief and cleans the tears off his glasses. "Madame, you mentioned that five of these children were rescued from the school, but there are six here."

"Qasim, do you want to tell the Ministers and Monsieur Malfoy about your escape?" the headmistress asks the boy to her left.

He slumps in his chair and says, "Can you do it for me?"

"Of course," she pats the boy on the shoulder in reassurance. "Qasim was drafted into the Brotherhood at only fourteen. He is sixteen now. They made him do unspeakable things under the Imperius Curse. International forces seized his camp and killed his mentor, releasing him from the curse. Qasim surrendered and promised to tell everything he knew for refuge. But they didn't believe him at first as he was marked."

At the words, 'marked,' Draco's eyes peered more intently at the boy. He smooths his long hair closer to his face and neck and tugs on his collar. His behavior is all too familiar and Draco realizes his mark is on his neck. Unlike his own, it can't be easily hidden by long-sleeved shirts. He sympathizes with the boy—no, he was the boy. "Headmistress, do you mind switching seats with me?"

Her face softens and says, "Of course."

As Draco makes his way to his new seat, he takes off his jacket, removes his cufflink, and rolls his sleeve up. "Qasim, can I show you something?"

The young man says, "Yes, sir."

Draco smiles and turns to the boy and presents his left forearm. "It has faded over the years, but you can still see it. My boy, do you know what is on my arm?"

"That's the Dark Mark. I've seen it in history books, " the boy's eyes widen in curiosity.

"You hear that, Hermione? History books." Draco shakes his head with a laugh.

"Ah, time has a cruel way of catching up with us, doesn't it?" Minister Dupree jokes.

"Indeed it does," replies Draco.

Becoming more comfortable with the situation, Qasim asks, "You were a Death Eater?"

Draco nods his head, "Yes. I didn't really have much of a choice. It was not long after my sixteenth birthday. The Dark Lord—Voldemort—threatened my mother and myself if I didn't take the Mark. I thought I was bringing honor to my family and protecting my mum. Instead, they used me and broke me and took away what was left of my childhood."

"They did the same to me," Qasim says with an unsteady voice. "They also made me take others childhoods."

"Me too. It took me a long time to heal, inside and out. But," Draco tucks the boy's hair behind his ear exposing an Arabic symbol, "these markings fade after the fall. If we're all brave and we all take down the Darkness, your mark will fade too."

A spark of hope lights in Qasim and he says, "Thank you, sir. That's what I want to do. I want to become an auror and go back out and fight. Take down the men who hurt me and my family."

The former Death Eater squeezes the boy on the shoulder and says, "That's a good lad. But you also need to be brave enough to let love back into your heart so your soul can heal too. Vengeance and hatred aren't the only things worth fighting for. Do you understand?"

Qasim shakes his head and throws his arms around Draco's neck. Draco was taken by surprise but squeezes the boy back tightly. He sees so much of himself in this boy—the fear, regret, and craving for affection. They release each other and Qasim is a bit embarrassed. Draco sees this and ruffles the boy's hair playfully.

"Wow. A Death Eater and a War Heroine? How did that happen?" Farid, the other boy asks.

Draco and Hermione laugh. She says, "My dear, boy. That is another story for another time. A very, very long story."

—xoxox—

The rest of lunch is spent eating a warm, comforting meal, and listening to all of the children's stories of bravery and adversity. Hermione and Draco's hearts feel heavy. They weren't much older than these kids when they were in similar situations. The boys and girls before them saw horrors, yet still have so much hope and determination. The type of hope and determination that can win a war.

After lunch, the visitors take carriages into the neighboring town of Beauxvallée. During the ride down, Minister Dupree explains more about the refugee situation. Because of magic, the screening process has been much easier than that of the muggle government. They have implemented wand examination, legilimency, and veritaserum. He says, "Yes, it may seem like extreme measures, but it was the only way to appease the general public and the French Government. The international forces rescued parents, children too young to attend school, and defunct Brothers willing to cooperate. We had to do something."

Hermione massages her temples as this is the same decision she was ready to make. "Are all the children and parents witches and wizards?"

"No. We have about fifty or so sansmagiques, or muggles, as you call them. We have a few poor farmers and shepherds. We have easily found them positions on tenement farms. But others, we have had to be a bit more creative."

"How so?" Hermione inquires as Draco listens intently.

Minister Dupree continues, "for those who came from working class backgrounds, most work alongside elves in kitchens, gardens, doing laundry, construction, and the like. The parents who came to us who were teachers, doctors, accountants, goodness, even the tech industry, posed an exceptional challenge. One woman, we were able to get her a position at the wizarding primary school teaching basics and our equivalent of muggle studies. One gentleman was a professor of physics and aerodynamics, much too qualified for a primary school, so we are working on his visa and employment at a university. In the meantime, he has been doing consulting for the Nimbus company."

Draco's ears perk up, "Really? Muggle mathematics, science, and research combined with magic. Well, Firebolt will finally be kicked off their pedestal." Draco takes out his mobile and starts texting.

"Darling, what are you doing?" Hermione asks curiously.

"Telling Ernie I want to buy as much stock as I can in Nimus," he mutters nonchalantly.

"Why didn't I think of that?" Minister Dupree chuckles.

"Any other interesting placements for the muggle parents, Minister?" Hermione's interest growing at the prospects.

Minister Dupree smiles at her proudly, "Doctors working with healers, military working with aurors, and web developers working with wizarding communications companies. This is just our first wave of refugees. We have found employment or roles in the refugee quarter for all the parents, magical and otherwise. This little community has been working in harmony toward a common goal — a life of peace and productivity. Sometimes it makes you wonder if the Statute of Secrecy is still necessary, doesn't it?"

"It truly does, Minister. We may not be there yet, but we could be progressing into a world of equality in which the magical and non-magical can co-exist. You should be very proud of yourself. You will have my support on your proposal in regards to the refugees at the Summit," Hermione says while presenting her hand.

"Thank you, Madame Minister."

—xoxox—

They return to the castle and freshen up before dinner. Draco and Hermione ask for some time alone to process the day's events. Listening to story after story of hope, heartbreak, and tragedy claw at their subconscious and bring up the past. A prefect escorts them to the staff sleeping quarters and they find a room without any current inhabitants. They thank the girl as she waves farewell.

Draco loosens his tie and throws it on the desk. His knees weaken, and he sits on the edge of the small bed. He has kept his composure all day but can no longer stifle his sobs. "Why do they do this, Hermione? These kids, their parents. We were in their place. Why do they make children part of their agenda? Why did they make us a part of their agenda?"

She crawls next to him on the bed and coaxes him to lie down with her. Hermione smooths her hands on his back and arms, soothing him and says, "Because they are weak and they think taking it out on children makes them stronger. But they are wrong," she turns him to face her. "They think they can break and manipulate, but look at those kids, look at us. We came out stronger."

He kisses her tenderly, "I wish you never made me erase your memory. Things could have ended up so differently. We could have—"

She puts a finger to his lips silencing, "Everything happens for a reason. We both loved and lost. Fought and lived. This right now is the right time. We needed all of those experiences to make everything we have now worth it."

"I love you, and I'm never letting you go," he says, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

"You better not," she says before kissing him again. "Come now. We have to get ready for dinner."

"Can we just lay like this for five more minutes?" he pleads softly, still in a vulnerable state.

"Of course."

—xoxox—

Beauxbatons Academy has prepared an incredible feast with performances by their dance troupe, choir, and players. There is even an impressive light show by their pyrotechnic charms club. This is welcome after the emotionally taxing day. Both Ministers are set to deliver speeches. Minister Dupree's is lighthearted, jovial, and recalls his days as a student. He expresses the values of friendship and how friendships can change the world. He uses this as the perfect segue to introduce Hermione.

She and Draco stand up so that he can translate for her. "Thank you, Minister Dupree, for the warm welcome, also to Madame Beaumont, faculty, students, and parents who have made us all feel so welcome. As expected when returning to school, I have learned valuable lessons I will share upon my return to Britain.

"As you are students, I know that you will be immensely bored if I speak too long, so I will just leave you with this. You all inspire me. Friendship, acceptance, and forgiveness are incredibly difficult challenges for anyone, not to mention the current political climate. But remember, the lines of war are drawn in the sand, they are not etched in marble. The lines shift with the wind and the waves. Allegiances can change. Your enemy can become your friend—maybe even more. Listen, learn, and above all, love. Thank you."

Draco smiles and gives her a kiss on the cheek, causing more giggles and chatter amongst the student body. He whispers in her ear, "I always wondered what it would be like to kiss you in front of the whole school. Wrong school and wrong era, but that was exactly the response I hoped for."

"You are ridiculous."

"Ridiculously in love with you, yes."

In editing, I changed the names of some of the pureblood homes. JKR took so much care into naming places. The Weasley Home Weasels The Burrow. Gimmauld Place = Grim Old Place. Knockturn Alley = Nocturnally. And so on. So why in fan fic are we so uninspired and call everything X Manor? English homes aren't named all named "Surname Manor." The names come from the surrounding land, the ancestors, pieces of architecture who were brought in. They also have the names like Park, Hall, Castle, Abbey, etc. While Malfoy Manor has beautiful alliteration, I think we can do better. So these are two names I came up for the Nott and Greengrass homes.

Crosslip Heights, The Nott ancestral home. On a cliff overlooking the sea in Lancashire, England. Nott coming from knot, the family made their fortunes as merchant sailors. They had originally settled in the seaside town of Knott End-on-Sea. After the gaining wealth and suspiscion from their muggle neighbors, they erected their home on a high cliff, away from prying eyes and alway able to look out onto the horizon. Cross and Slip are types of knots and Heights are usually given to homes built on palisades.

Meadow Hall, The Greengrass estate in Northamtonshire, England, the family surname and estate derive from their natural settings. The estate is surrounded by grassy meadows and rolling green hills.

As a total history nerd, who also researches etymology, lore, and sociology for my fics, I would love to see other writers also push themselves to be more creative while building fanon.

Thanks again for reading. If you can't wait for me to finish all the uploads to FFN, the story is complete on my AO3. Same penname :)

Feel free to leave a review. I'm also on tumblr: harrypotterandthegobletofwine and Facebook: saintdionysuswriter.