Author's Notes: I'm noticing that the story is moving slower than I thought. Originally, I never expected to go past 20 chapters, now it seems I'll be lucky to bring this in under 30 chapters. The reason for the slow pace is the daiy posting. As I'm writing a chapter, I try to bring it in between 4500 and 6000 words (although many of my other chapters were significantly shorter) so that I can give enough story, but still get a chapter posted each day.

This chapter, as indicated by the title, is the beginning of the Weasleys' dinner with Kingsley Shacklebolt...which will continue next chapter, so pretty soon the question as to what it is that he wants will be answered!!

I love my reviewers! I love each and every one of them (although I love the girls just a bit more than the guys!): Edinburgh Love, Ann Malfoy, Cantletharrygo, CutewithAcapital-Q, fatyellowrat, Avanell, Dizzy0305, katie1985, Elytha, Trude, mugglemama, emmy1124, Emma.Jane-HPfan, Moony3005, IsI Wisi, Lady Anja, embergrl9010, the written princess, MissFinnegan, Tiffany M, kareem33, randomguy1517, Shlesha, ronniemione, sarah-keyko, not for lack of trying, Emm04, Jacob's-One-Girl, Ravenhaired2, and Nosta82, Aly-Cat 101, EnglishGirlVerity, marauders rox, Lane Joey, allenterrill, skippyboo, Larelles, kellymc1, xxafterglowxx, and screamxheart. They are truly incredible!

"Aftermath" is rated M for language and naughty stuff.

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and all the associated whatnots.

"Aftermath"

Chapter 26 -- Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

"NO!!"

Ron lunged at John Granger and the Canary Crème in his hand, but before he could stop Hermione's father from taking a bite, he bit down into the delicious-looking pastry.

"Mmm…this is SQUAWK!!"

John Granger disappeared and was replaced by a giant, yellow-feathered bird. It began flapping about the shop, bumping into things and knocking stuff over. George was doubled over with laughter, while Mrs. Granger was screaming in fright. Ron grabbed her and tried to calm her down.

"It's temporary!!" Ron yelled, shaking her, "Look at me Mrs. Granger…calm down! Mr. Granger will change back in a few minutes. He's going to be alright."

"Ronald…what are those?" she asked, looking at the pastries on the counter.

"Those are Canary Crèmes," Ron explained, "They're one of the twins' inventions. You eat one and turn into a big canary…but it's only for a few minutes. Eventually it wears --…"

Crash!

Before Ron could finish his statement, a loud crash from the back of the shop cut him off and drew everyone's attention. The man-sized canary was gone, and Mr. Granger had returned, buried under a display case full of Weasleys products. Ron rushed over to Mr. Granger's aid, but before he could reach him, Hermione's father jumped to his feet with an excited look on his face.

"That was BRILLIANT!!" John yelled as he climbed over the boxes piled around him, "Lizzie, love, we have got to get some of those for our next dinner party!"

"John!" Elizabeth called exasperatedly, "We are not turning our friends into giant canaries!"

"Ronnie," George laughed walking up next to his brother and draping an arm across his shoulders, "I'm really liking Hermione's dad! You need to marry that girl so we can get him in the family!"

"Sod off, George," Ron snapped, although deep down he thought it was pretty funny, "He could've been hurt."

"Nonsense, Ron, I'm fine!" Mr. Granger said, smiling as he approached the two brothers with Mrs. Granger at his side, doting on him, "Lizzie, honestly, I'm fine!"

"Well then, Dr. Granger, since everyone's still alive and everything," George said, clapping a hand on Dr. Granger's shoulder, "Shall we set you up with a complete line of our premium products? At the family discount, of course!"

"I appreciate that, George, but I don't think the Missus would be very happy with me if I did that," Mr. Granger said, waving off George's offer, "Besides, I couldn't accept a discount…we're not family."

"Not yet!" George said with a wink, nudging Ron in the ribs, "Right, Ronnie?"

"Knock it off, George," Ron groaned, "I'm sure the Grangers need to get back to The Leaky Cauldron."

"Ronald's right, John," Elizabeth said, looking at her watch, "Percy will be picking us up at Ten O'clock, so we'd better return to the inn and get ready."

"Alright, Liz," John sighed.

"But…before we go," Elizabeth rolled her eyes and sighed, "You may buy one of these Wizard Wheezes."

"HA! Brilliant! Lizzie, love, you're a gem!!"

Laughter filled the shop as Mr. Granger rushed about like a child in a toy store trying to decide which of the amazing Weasleys products he would be buying, and although he, too, derived some amusement from Mr. Granger's antics, Ron couldn't help but feel as if this was going to come back and haunt him.

"Hermione's gonna kill me!"

When Harry got up that morning, he expected a busy day full of final arrangements for the special dinner the Weasleys were having at the Burrow the very next day. He wasn't expecting to be ambushed by the last of Ginny's brothers.

"Harry…hey, Harry…wake up!"

Harry's eyes creaked open and he found himself staring up at a blurry shape with a shock of orange hair atop its head. Obviously one of the Weasleys, although without his glasses on, he couldn't see which one it was.

"Wha…huh?" Harry sat up groggily and put his glasses on, making the orange-topped blur come into focus, "Charlie…? What're you doing?"

"Mum wants you to get dressed and come outside and help me get the garden ready for tomorrow," the second oldest Weasley child said with a smile, "Hurry up, mate! I'll be out back waiting for you."

Charlie turned on his heel and left the attic bedroom so the Boy-Who-Lived could become the Boy-Who-Got-Dressed. Harry dragged himself out of bed and slowly got dressed. He loved Mrs. Weasley to death – she was the only mother he'd ever really known – but if he had to de-gnome the garden one more time, he was going to beg the Dursleys to let him move back in.

"Well, maybe not," Harry grinned as he headed downstairs and out into the garden.

"Oy, Harry! Over here!!" Charlie yelled from across the garden. He was standing near the trees that enclosed the Weasleys' makeshift Quidditch pitch.

Harry hurried over, "What're we doing over here, Charlie?" Harry asked as the Weasley brother led him through the trees and onto the pitch, "I thought we were going to de-gnome the garden."

"Not right now, this is more important. Sit," Charlie pointed to a chair that was sitting in the middle of the pitch near some sort of easel with large, poster-sized placards on it.

"Charlie…what is all this?" Harry asked, confused.

"Sit!" Charlie snapped, causing Harry to jump at the sudden harsh authority in his voice.

Not knowing what else to do, Harry sat down. It was only as he realized that he was out of earshot of the house (and the rest of the Weasleys) in the secluded grove that Harry understood what was going on. Ginny's final brother was going to have his say about what happened last week.

"Bill owled me about what you did with Ginny, Harry," Charlie said, his voice cold and completely unlike what Harry was used to. He was walking a slow circle around the chair in which Harry was sitting, "Needless to say I was not happy."

"Charlie, I --…"

"Shut it, Harry!" the redheaded man snapped, "You will be given a chance to speak when we're done here. Right now, I want you to listen."

Harry nodded stiffly. His head was still a little fuzzy from sleep, but this situation was quickly waking him up.

"My sister is not some cheap slag, Harry," Charlie growled, "She's not here for you to get a leg over and get your rocks off. If that's what you're looking for, there's a place for that in Knockturn Alley."

Charlie slowly strode over to the easel standing in front of Harry and grabbed the blank, white placard displayed there.

"When Ron was thirteen, Dad asked me and Bill to have the Sex Talk with him. Bill handled the lecture, while I brought these diagrams…to show Ron how to do things right," Charlie moved the white placard and revealed a poster-sized diagram of two people having sex. Being that these were magical diagrams, the people moved as if in the actual act of having sex, "However, right now these diagrams are being used to show you, Harry, what sort of things will get your arse kicked if I ever learn that you even thought about doing them with Ginny."

Charlie went from placard to placard, showing the people in various sexual positions, naming each of the positions, and explaining just how dead Harry would be if he tried that position on Ginny. Harry realized just how evil Charlie Weasley was. Showing him those diagrams, no matter how uncomfortable it was, did put ideas in Harry's head…and those very ideas would ensure that Harry would find himself on the business end of a Weasley beating.

When the lecture was over, Charlie took out his wand, and with a quick wave, the chair, easel, and placards vanished back to wherever they'd been conjured from in the first place. Smiling at Harry, Charlie put an arm over his shoulder and started walking with him back to the Burrow.

"I hope that wasn't too painful for you, Harry," Charlie said with his usual ready grin, "You must think I'm a bit barmy, showing you those pictures and then expecting you not to think about them."

"A bit, yeah," Harry agreed, chuckling.

"So you are thinking about that stuff?" the redhead asked, looking sidelong at Harry.

"Well, yeah, I mean…you put the ideas in my head."

Harry never saw the punch coming. Charlie Weasley whirled on the Boy-Who-Lived and slammed a hard, calloused fist into his face, sending him sprawling onto the ground, glasses broken and nose bloodied.

"But you put those ideas in my head!!" Harry yelled, looking up at the out-of-focus Charlie Weasley as he looked down at him.

"Oh…that? You were going to get hit anyway, Harry," Charlie said, smiling, "I just want you thinking now, 'If I do this, will Charlie show up and kick my arse?' because if it's doing something in those diagrams with Ginny, the answer is 'Yes, he will!'"

With that, Charlie turned and made his way back inside the Burrow, leaving Harry behind.

When the workday ended, and Hermione had not shown up at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Ron figured he might just be off the hook. After all, it wasn't his fault that her father bought something from the shop. And George was the one who turned her dad into a canary. Still, Ron knew he would get blamed. That's how these things work.

"They always blame the boyfriend," Ron mumbled to himself as he left the shop and prepared to Apparate home.

Once there, Ron found the Burrow to be a bustling hive of activity. Mrs. Weasley was hurrying here and there getting all the final touches ready for tomorrow's dinner with the Minister. Ron was about to run upstairs to change out of his work-robes, when his mother grabbed him.

"Oh no you don't!" Mrs. Weasley yelled, "No use getting yourself cleaned up, just to get dirty again!! There's some old Muggle appliances of your father's that have been laying around far too long! Move them out into the shed…and when you're done come in for supper."

"Yes, Mum," Ron sighed, rolling his eyes.

When he got out into the garden, Ron found a huge pile of Muggle items piled up against the house. Ron had no idea where his father had had them all stashed, but wherever his hiding place was, his mother must have found it. Ron had no idea what most of these things were, although he'd seen some at the Grangers' house in Australia. Taking the smaller appliances first, Ron began moving the mass of shiny metal, glass, and plastic piece-by-piece out to the dilapidated shed where his father's other Muggle artifacts were stashed.

It was well past an hour later when Ron managed to drag himself back inside the Burrow for supper. He'd since abandoned his work-robes as he'd been sweating too much in them, and was left in the jeans and long-sleeve t-shirt he'd worn underneath…both of which were covered in dust, dirt, and grime of some undisclosed sort.

As he dropped heavily into a chair at the table, behind a plate of food already waiting for him, Ron found himself alone in the kitchen save for his mother who was currently washing the dinner dishes.

"Did you get it all tucked away then, dear?" Molly asked, gazing over her shoulder at her sweaty and dirty son.

"Yeff, Muh" Ron said around a mouthful of roast potatoes.

"Thank you, Ronald," Mrs. Weasley said, not bothering to correct her son's table manners…she could see he was tired, "I don't know where your father finds all that…rubbish…but he insists on bringing it home."

Ron chuckled as he swallowed his potatoes and took a bite of his pork chops, "Foof'f guh, Muh!"

"Thank you, dear," she rolled her eyes, "I do hope you'll use better manners in front of the Minister tomorrow."

Ron swallowed his bite of pork, having barely chewed it, "Aw, c'mon, Mum…it's just Kingsley Shacklebolt! He's seen me eat before. What's with trying to impress him?"

"Ronald Weasley, he's the Minister for Magic now!" Mrs. Weasley scolded him, doing her best unintentional mother hen impersonation, "He deserves our respect, and he will have it…or you will go hungry!"

"So you'd be going out of your way like this if bloody Mundungus Fletcher was made Minister?" Ron scoffed, shoving a forkful of green beans in his mouth.

His mother turned purple and rounded on her son with a large, wooden cooking spoon.

Whack!

"OWW!" Ron yelled, spitting out the beans and grabbing the back of his head where she'd hit him, "Bloody Hell, Mum! What was that for?!"

"If that horrible little criminal had been made Minister, then yes! We'd show Mundungus Fletcher the same respect we're going to show Kingsley!" Molly yelled, "Now…mind your language and finish your dinner!"

"Yes, Mum," Ron replied, crestfallen.

His mother moved up behind him and kissed the spot where she'd hit him the spoon, "I'm sorry, Ronald, dear. Now, you did tell Hermione about the dinner tomorrow, didn't you…and for her to invite her parents?"

"Yeah, Mum," Ron nodded between bites, "But I don't think she's gonna come."

"What? That's silly…why wouldn't she…oh, Ron! You didn't get into another argument, did you?" she asked, clucking her tongue at her youngest, most tactless son.

"No! This was not my fault, Mum!" he exclaimed, defending himself, "Ginny told her about what happened last week. Hermione got upset and embarrassed and she says she can't face you anymore."

"Ronald Bilius Weasley," Molly shouted, having picked up a cooking pot this time, "You get that dear girl and her parents to come to this dinner tomorrow, or it will be a long time before you taste any of my cooking again!!"

"Yes, Mum!" Ron said, jumping up as he saw the heavy metal pot in her hand.

"Now go!"

"Yes, Mum!!" Ron rushed out of the kitchen, fearing for his life as he stormed up the steps to his attic bedroom.

Bursting through the door into his Chudley Cannons-dominated bedroom, Ron tossed his work-robes onto his bed, and sat down at the rickety old desk in the corner. Taking out a wrinkled old piece of parchment he quickly (and messily) began to scribe a letter to Hermione.

Dear 'Mione,

Please-please-please-please-please-please-PLEASE come to dinner tomorrow! Mum is on a rampage! I swear, if you don't come, she's going to kill me…or worse…stop feeding me!

She wants you at the dinner. We all do. Especially me!! Please come to dinner, love, and bring your parents!

Please…for your ickle boyfriend?

Love,

Ron

Once he finished the letter, Ron hurried across the room, grabbed Pig out of his cage and quickly tied the note to his foot. Ron moved to the window and tossed the owl out into the night.

"Take that to 'Mione, and hurry!!"

With his letter to Hermione winging its way to her, Ron grabbed his pajamas and decided to take a much-needed shower while he waited for the response. When he finished with the shower, Ron found that Pig hadn't returned yet, but Harry was now in the room…and sporting quite the black eye.

"What happened to you?" Ron asked, plopping down onto his bed and looking across the room at his friend.

"Charlie hit me," Harry said sounding very surly.

"Good!" Ron laughed, "Now I don't have to!"

"Ha-ha," Harry laughed sarcastically, "You think I deserved this, huh?"

"A bit, yeah," Ron said, smiling.

"Some friend you are," Harry grumbled, getting up to leave the room.

"Oh, grow up, Harry," Ron snapped, "You're dating the only girl in a family full of boys…take your licks and be happy! Things could've been a lot worse!"

"Oh yeah," Harry asked, snidely, angry at Ron for enjoying his pain too much, "How so?"

"I thought for sure Charlie was gonna sic a dragon on you!"

It was after midnight when Ron, lying in bed asleep, was smacked in the face by something small and feathery that proceeded to flap about manically until Ron groggily captured it in a vise-like grip born of his time playing Keeper on his House Quidditch team.

"Bloody bird!" the redhead grumbled, "Calm down!"

Ron grabbed the letter off the owl's leg and let him go. Pig flew rapidly around the room three times before settling back onto his perch in his cage. Using his wand to ignite the lamp beside his bed, Ron rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and began reading Hermione's response to his letter.

Ron,

I'm sorry. I really can't face your family right now…especially your mother.

Hermione

Ron sighed as he read the letter, running a frustrated hand through his thick red hair. Tomorrow was not going to be a good day.

As Sunday dawned, did his best to convince Hermione to come. Pig was flying back and forth between the Burrow and the Grangers' house so frequently that by the time dinner started, the poor bird was exhausted to the point of lying in its cage instead of sitting on its perch.

Ron tried flattery to get her to come ("Dinner will be meaningless without the most beautiful and smartest witch of this or any other age in attendance."), begging ("Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease?"), bribery ("I'll do ANYTHING if you come…I'll even read Hogwarts, A History!"), guilt ("After everything I did to help your parents last week, you won't come to ONE dinner with my family?"), and when that all failed, he resorted to a tried and true method of getting a response from her – starting a row ("Do you know how CHILDISH you're being? And you call ME immature!!").

None of it seemed to work, however, and soon Ron, dressed in the nicest clothes he had this side of his dress robes, made his way downstairs to break the bad news to his mother. He found her, of course, in the kitchen.

"Bad news, Mum," Ron said somberly, "'Mione just won't come."

"Ronald! Do you know how important tonight is?" she asked, glaring at him, "I wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted the whole family here!"

"I wanted her here, too, Mum, but she won't come!" Ron was exasperated. This was all Harry and Ginny's fault, but he knew it was going to be turned around and he was going to be blamed.

"You've ruined the dinner for me, Ronald Weasley," Molly said, proving her son right, "I hope you're happy."

"Actually, Mum," Ron began, his face getting red, "My girlfriend is barely talking to me right now, I've never seen where she lives and her Muggle house isn't Floo connected, so I can't go see her, and I'm being blamed for her not wanting to be around the woman who called her a scarlet woman behind her back! So I'm pretty BLOODY MISERABLE…but thanks for askin'!"

Before his mother could yell at him some more, or possibly crack him upside the head with a handy spoon or frying pan, Ron retreated from the kitchen, heading out the back door into the garden where the table had been set up, as usual, for Sunday supper. This time, however, a golden throne-like chair sat at the head of the table next to a beaming George.

"What do you think, Ronnie?" George asked, waving his hand at the throne, "I transfigured one of the old chairs. Think his Ministerness will like it?"

"Does it blow up or something when he sits in it?" Ron grumbled. Even George was going overboard for Kingsley's visit.

"Ronnie!" George gasped, feigning shock, but unable to hide the smile on his face, "Would I do something like that? It's a good idea though…nice to see you're thinking in a Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes kind of style. There may be hope for you yet!"

"Where is everybody?" the youngest Weasley son asked, taking a seat in one of the normal chairs.

"Bill and Fleur haven't arrived yet – I suspect half-Veela women take forever to get ready," George said with a smirk as he counted off on his fingers where the rest of the family were, "Ginny and Harry went for a walk, Charlie went to keep an eye on them, Dad's in the shed showing Audrey some of his Muggle artifacts while Percy clucks his tongue at him, we're here, Mum's inside, and…where's Hermione?"

"She's not coming," Ron sighed, running frustrated fingers through his hair. It was a habit he shared with his father, and he couldn't help wondering if it in some way contributed to his father's hair-loss.

"Don't tell me you two are fighting again," George sighed, taking a seat across from Ron.

"Honestly, I don't know if we are," Ron said, shaking his head, "At least, I don't know if she's mad at me or not. Ever since Ginny and Harry told her about last Sunday, with Mum and all the yelling, she says she's too embarrassed to come around…especially if she might bump into Mum."

"Oh," George nodded, understanding how Hermione might feel. That was a bad situation to be in, "Look on the bright side, Ronnie…at least it's happening to you and not me!!"

"Thanks, George."

The door to the shed opened, and Percy shuffled out, cleaning dust off of his glasses. He was closely followed by his girlfriend Audrey, and Mr. Weasley bringing up the rear.

"I just don't understand your obsession, Father," Percy was saying as he was, now, brushing dust off his Muggle-style suit. It was navy blue with pinstripes, so the dust showed up rather well, "None of those Muggle appliances even work properly without electricity, so what's the purpose of hording them like that?"

"I know it's not very dignified, son," Mr. Weasley sighed, trying not to roll his eyes at Percy, "But I do so enjoy learning about Muggle devices…it's a whole other world out there that we really know nothing about."

"Stop being such a fuddy-duddy, Percy," Audrey scolded as they neared the table, "I think it's a wonderful collection, Mr. Weasley…all those shiny metal objects…who wouldn't be fascinated by what they might do? Besides, Percy, no one criticizes you for your collection of porcelain elephants."

"But we will NOW!" George yelled with glee overhearing Audrey's comment.

"Thank you so much, Audrey," Percy sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Oops. Sorry, Percy," Audrey replied with a giggle, "I didn't mean to let the cat out of the bag."

"That's quite alright, dear girl," Arthur said, patting her on the arm, "Percy's missed out on a good bit of brotherly teasing these last couple of years. I'm sure he misses George's good-natures jests."

"Good-natured," Percy repeated, "That's an interesting way to describe it, Father."

"Oh now, Percy, don't get your trunk in a twist!" George joked, moving over to his brother and throwing an arm around him, "We won't be teasing you about this, will we Ronnie?"

"Not much," Ron said, smiling.

"Not today," George added with glee.

"Maybe later," George and Ron said together, bursting out laughing.

Mr. Weasley and Audrey couldn't help laughing along with them, and only Percy had a sour look on his face. They all took seats at the table and broke out into friendly conversation…mostly speculation over what Minister Shacklebolt might be wanting…which is exactly how Bill and Fleur found them when they arrived.

"I do not see what zee beeg deal ees, Beel," Fleur said in a haughty voice as they came out the backdoor into the garden, "Just because she ees your seestaire does not mean she should be forbidden from enjoyeeng herself. After all we did not wait unteel marriage!"

"Shh!" Bill snapped as he caught sight of his family at the table, "This isn't the time or place for this discussion, Fleur."

"Well, Beel, zere weel be a deescussion, and you weel see my side of zee argument or you weel not be 'aving any enjoyment eezaire!"

The two newcomers took seats at the table, and soon joined into the conversation. Everyone was talking about Kingsley Shacklebolt except for Ron. He couldn't give a damn about Shacklebolt and his visit. He had too much on his mind.

Chief among his thoughts was Hermione and her recent coldness to him whenever he saw her. It was if she felt too ashamed to even let him kiss her anymore. And, of course, that was all Ginny and Harry's fault! If they had kept their mouths shut, Hermione wouldn't be doing this. He really wanted to make their lives miserable because of it. As he thought this, a very disgruntled-looking Harry and Ginny came walking around the side of the house with a smug-looking Charlie hot on their heels.

"Wow!" Ron thought, smiling, "I think it, and it happens. Maybe if I thought about a million galleons…or a championship season for the Cannons!" Ron began thinking those exact thoughts, but when a pile of gold didn't drop in his lap he figured it was a lost cause.

"Hello, baby brother," Charlie said as he ruffled Ron's hair before sitting next to him, "Where's Hermione?"

"She's not coming," Ron grumbled, crossing his arms and shooting a dirty look at Harry.

"You two aren't fighting again, are you?" Charlie laughed, slapping Ron on the back, "What did you do this time?"

"I didn't do anything," Ron growled.

"Sure you didn't, Ronnie," Charlie laughed, nudging him roughly, "And Harry walked into a door earlier."

Crack!

All discussion ceased at the sound of someone Apparating into the garden. Everyone looked up to see the broad-shouldered, dark-skinned form of the new Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Kingsley!" Arthur jumped up and moved over to shake the new arrival's hand.

Percy, too, jumped up, fidgeting with his suit to make sure he was presentable causing everyone at the table…including Audrey (although she did it slightly less than the others)…to roll their eyes. He stood at attention by his chair, and when he drew a quick glance from Kingsley, Percy nodded stiffly, "Good evening, Minister."

Shacklebolt nodded back before turning his attention back to Arthur Weasley. Arthur escorted him over to the table and the throne-like seat George had transfigured for him.

"This was unnecessary, Arthur," Kingsley said, indicating the throne, "I don't need anything so extravagant."

"Ah, well, my son George did this, Kingsley," Arthur explained, "And he was rather proud…"

"Well, I suppose I can allow it," the Minister said with smile, nodding towards George who grinned back at him, "Just for tonight."

"Dinner!" Molly called as she walked out of the house with various bowls and platters floating behind her, "Ah! Minister Shacklebolt…you're just in time! Everyone take a seat and let's tuck in so the Minister can tell us why we deserve the pleasure of his company tonight."

Arthur moved to help Molly put the food on the table, while Kingsley took a seat on the throne. George nudged Ron and tried to get him to watch the Minister. As soon as the Minister sat down, a loud obnoxious noise blasted out of the seat causing George to burst out laughing.

FRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTT!!

"GEORGE!!"

Author's End Notes: Oh, that George!! So, what will Kingsley want with the Weasleys? Tune in NEXT chapter!! Which I hope is up tomorrow. I haven't written it yet.