Ch38 The Waiting Game

"Good, Sparkplug, now do it again."

"Harry, we've been out here all day. It's Saturday, shouldn't we be skiving off work or visiting Hagrid?" Ginny huffed. Her muscles ached and despite the intense training she had been going through, it never seemed to get any easier.

"Ginny, do you want to learn to hunt or not? You've started well behind any other Kneazle out here. We learn this as kittens, but you have years to learn and we've only until the end of term for you to learn everything."

"Why? Are you going somewhere this summer?"

"No, but I want you prepared. Remember, that rat and his man-friend know where you live and they may have pieced together where I am, too. I won't have you unprepared. Now, let's do it again."

Ginny nodded and changed back into the most beautiful lioness Harry had ever seen. Not that he'd seen many lionesses, but he was sure if he had, she'd still be the most beautiful. The way her shoulders moved, and muscles rippled gently under her coat of red fur. It almost made him want to kill a mouse for her and meow to the world…

Harry shook his head violently to clear his odd daydreams. Ginny wasn't a lioness in the same way that he wasn't a human. How could he even imagine doing those things with her? Besides, she'd made it perfectly clear that freshly killed mice weren't appreciated. However, he did have to marvel at the rapid skill which she was showing. Several of the other Kneazles had come out to help from time to time as well, but the natural affinity his human showed for Kneazle-only skills, left him in awe. She still had some time to go, but he was sure she could take care of her own by the rapidly approaching end of the year.

"Good, I like it. Now, as you have so rightly pointed out, it is getting a bit late and we are near enough to Hagrid's. Would be a shame not to pop in, wouldn't it?"

Ginny nodded vigorously, happy to be finally finished with the day's training. They walked leisurely towards the large hut on the edge of the forest in a companionable silence, until Harry finally broke it.

"Have you noticed anything strange with Hermione recently?"

"A little," Ginny admitted. "I mean we aren't the closest friends, but she's definitely upset about something. Merlin, have you seen how much homework she has?"

"You know, what I can't figure out is how she can be in so many places at once," Harry mused aloud.

"What do you mean?" Ginny replied, confused.

"Well, when I dropped Divination, I switched to Muggle Studies which was overlapped for half an hour. I figured Hermione just skived off a bit of one to go to the other, but since I switched, she hasn't missed one bit and Ron tells me that she's in every Divination class too."

"Harry, that's impossible. I bet you just miss her leaving or something."

Harry gave his best friend a very sceptical glare. "You really think that's likely?"

"Well… no, but it could happen!" Ginny protested weakly.

"Likely mirrors."

"What?"

"Mirrors, it's how we Kneazles can appear to get into high places sometimes without having to jump. Saves a lot of time."

"And how, precisely, do you manage to place mirrors about a house without anyone noticing?"

Harry smiled and winked. "Magic," he whispered theatrically, and then knocked loudly on the large door of Hagrid's hut to forestall any further conversation.

"I'm round back!" Hagrid's voice boomed and both youngsters followed it around to the pumpkin patch.

"Hagrid, what are you doing?" Harry shouted, panic beginning to rise in his chest. The sight of the three Hippogriffs he'd come to think of as friends knocked any thoughts of a genial visit from his mind.

"They got to go back 'Arry. I can't use 'em no more, an' Professor Dumbledore said they are distractin' yeh from yer work. 'Sides, I never really got around to teachin' anyone much about 'em. So, I'll send them back teh the Holyhead Reservation in Wales. With spring righ' around the corner, I thought it migh' be good teh get back fer breedin season."

"It was a pleasure knowing you," Harry said as he bowed formally, his head nearly meeting his knees. "May your quest for a fair maiden be a fruitful one and may your hatchlings bring glory and honour to your name."

'Thank you, Sir Harry. May your kittens be born with red fur,' Gordon squawked. The not-so-subtle implication caused Harry to sputter and blush furiously.

"What did he say, Paws?" Ginny whispered. Harry merely shook his head, mutely.

"Now, wha' can I help yeh with?" Hagrid asked, a moment later, having just finished securing the last chain on Buckbeak.

"Nothing much, Hagrid, just came down to visit."

"Brilliant! I'll jus' fetch a cuppa then."

Harry and Ginny followed the Groundskeeper into his hut.

oOo

"Bloody hell, Harry. That girl is mental, you know that, right?" Ron asked, staring at Hermione's retreating back.

Harry, having only arrived as the girl in question was storming away, was not able to pass judgment on the veracity of his friend's statement, but settled for nodding his head in a vague sort of way that might indicate either agreement or gas.

"I mean, all I did was ask her for a little bit of help on Transfiguration and she exploded. I've never seen her react so violently before."

"And by little bit of help, you asked to copy her essay that we were supposed to write for this afternoon?"

"Not initially," Ron grumbled. "I only did that once she said she didn't have the time to help me properly," Ron defended.

"You know we have to find out what's wrong with her, don't you?"

"Apart from being bleeding mental?"

"Yes, Ron, apart from that. I've seen the work load she has from lessons and I might be mental too if I was trying all that."

"I suppose that dotty old bat in Divination isn't helping either," Ron groused.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we started palm reading the other day and every time we start something new, she predicts a horrible end for someone in the class. The past couple times, though, it's been you."

"Oh? Do tell," Harry motioned for Ron to continue.

"Well the first time, it was a little unnerving, I guess. She kept predicting you were going to get killed by a savage beast with three heads. After that though, I guess she figured she had a gold mine because it's been a different one with you each time."

"How many, exactly?"

"Thirteen now, I think. You're supposed to be trampled by Hippogriffs, beheaded by a large troll, fall out of the sky, and snuff it when you encounter a bad laxative potion. I gave her the idea for the last one," Ron said, with a little pride creeping into his voice.

Harry merely chuckled. "So Hermione got upset about that one?"

"No, it was after the loony bint made some prediction about one of our number leaving us forever come Easter. It's almost Easter and today she made a sad prediction, thinly veiled of course, about your tragic death at the hands of a werewolf. Hermione snapped. I don't know why. We all know the tart's predictions are a load of dung. Not like there's even a werewolf around Hogwarts for you to snuff it with."

"I suppose. This behaviour isn't like our Hermione, though. We need to investigate."

"I guess," Ron shrugged. "You know, the twins' birthday is tomorrow."

"Is it?"

"Yup, they always pull some kind of prank. I wonder what they'll do this year?"

"I dunno, Ron. I guess we'll have to wait and see."

As it turned out, the waiting was for nought as nary a prank was to be had all through April first, at least none by the infamous Weasley twins. Harry was only able to ponder the abnormality fleetingly, as his attention was taken up by three women.

Ginny was gobbling up his free time, asking for help with hunting practice any chance she had, and Hermione's ongoing feud with the Divination Professor finally came to a head blowing out any time he might have had otherwise. In addition the strain of the extra homework was rattling everyone and raising tensions to the breaking point.

"Harry, how do you finish your Transfiguration homework so quickly?" Hermione huffed.

"Same way you finish your Divination revision," Harry replied lazily.

"I don't have any to do! I dropped that wretched class two days ago," Hermione nearly growled.

Harry smirked. "Well, I don't do my Transfiguration work, so all in all it's a fair trade."

"You don't do it?" Hermione screeched. "How on earth are you able to get such good marks?"

Harry rolled onto his back, tossing a small ball of yarn between his hands with grace. "I don't. I do alright in class, but that just comes to me. I don't understand all the theory and I don't see a need for it. If I can change a button into a toilet and back then why do I need to know why it works? I figured it up and if I get all good marks in class I can skive off practically all my essays and I still pass. That's all I'm really going for."

"But what about your future?" Hermione sputtered.

"You know he's going to be a stripper, Hermione. I don't think much besides a few glamour charms are going to help him there. Maybe a compulsion charm or two" Ron called out from his place in the chair Crookshanks had defiled with his molly. Harry hadn't told anyone except Ginny about it, but she'd been sufficiently disgusted that she'd gladly abandoned her traditional spot to her older brother.

"No compulsion charms needed, Ron. The women… they love me body," Harry shot back with a thick Scottish brogue.

"Careful with that accent, Harry, or you'll have McGonagall after you. Whether to stuff sickles into your pants or shake her arse in a see through kilt next to you, I don't know."

"Ron! I can't believe… Boys!" Hermione snapped as she slammed her book shut and gathered up her piles of parchment that lay strewn about.

As soon as she was gone, Ron looked over at his friend. "Mental, that one. You really don't do the assignments from McGonagall?"

"She and I have an understanding," Harry shrugged.

"Wish I had that understanding," Ron muttered.

"No, it mostly involves me being willing to jump out of impossibly tall windows if she looks about ready to hex me. She hasn't tried yet, but I think she's getting sneakier. For the record, Ron, McGonagall in a see through kilt is not an image I ever needed. She's practically family."

Ron shrugged. "I bet Neville enjoyed it."

"What?" The other boy sputtered, realising he was suddenly part of a conversation he was happily ignoring only moments before.

"See, Harry. He'd love it!"

oOo

"Potter!" The loud voice of Deputy Headmistress McGonagall rang through the grounds of Hogwarts early that morning, and with it a feeling of impending doom. Harry's fur bristled involuntarily. He motioned with his paw for Ginny to stay low and out of sight, a feat he no longer had to worry about her performing despite her size.

'I'll see what cousin McGiggles wants,' Harry mewed softly, and without another moment's hesitation sprang back onto two legs and sauntered through the forest.

"Something I can help you with, Cousin?"

"Mr. Potter, I have been searching for you for quite some time. Would you care to tell me where exactly you have been?"

"No, not particularly," Harry replied, edgily. He snuck a glance back at the tree line and breathed a deep sigh of relief. He couldn't spot Ginny anywhere.

A small growl resonated from the stern Transfiguration professor, startling her wayward student.

"It's Saturday, Professor. I don't have lessons or Quidditch. What is the problem?"

"Come with me, Potter." Without a backward glance, McGonagall strode off towards the castle and after casting another brief glance towards the forest, Harry followed her at a brisk pace. Finally coming to rest in a freshly conjured chair in the witch's office, Harry began to get a little edgy. He noticed that fresh glass adorned the small windows of the office, and while that wouldn't necessarily stop him from utilizing that as an exit, it would be significantly more painful than an open window. Perhaps a thorough hexing was coming? Like a true predator, his professor had trapped him in a situation that wouldn't give an easy escape route. He had to hand it to the old molly, she was craftier than he'd anticipated.

"Mr. Potter, would you care to guess why I've called you here?"

"Your kilts have suddenly become opaque?"

McGonagall gave him an indecipherable look which seemed to bore into his very soul. "No, not it? Then I've no idea," Harry continued, breezily. He wouldn't let the old molly throw him off balance. Let her explain why she wanted him here. He would be cautiously shifting his weight in preparation for dodging the anticipated curse.

"Mr. Potter, I have been looking at your classmates' essays, and I have noticed something distinctly missing from yours."

"Oh?" Harry cocked one eyebrow up.

"Words, Mr. Potter, perhaps parchment as well. I think it must be extremely difficult to turn anything in, when you don't do them," McGonagall finished so quietly Harry almost didn't hear her. That was testament enough to know that he was in serious trouble. He'd never heard his teacher speak like that before. "Now," she continued more forcefully, "would you care to tell my why you have turned so much as a base excuse into me since Christmas?"

Harry shrugged noncommittally, "I've been busy, Professor."

"What could you possibly be so important that you'd be willing to jeopardize your education?"

Harry shrugged again. "Well, I was trying to kill some people for a bit, and now I've found much more engaging pursuits. I'm training a partner-in-crime," Harry smiled wickedly.

McGonagall's legendary self-control, finally snapped. "Harry, I don't believe this! You're putting not only your education at risk, but your future as well. Transfiguration is one of the most important subjects in today's modern magical world, and you've barely done a thing! I have spoken to your other professors as well and they report similar, albeit slightly better, performance in their classes."

"Even, Professor Sprout?" Harry blurted, the hurt evident in his eyes.

"Well… no, not her, nor Hagrid, but you'll need more than decent Herbology and Magical Creatures marks if you expect to make anything of yourself."

Harry sighed loudly and decided to try the direct explanation approach. "Professor, may I ask you something? Am I, in fact, in danger of failing any of these classes with the possible exception of Potions?"

McGonagall's face scrunched a little. "No, Mr. Potter, I don't believe you are at this point."

"Now, while my marks in homework have been non-existent in your class, how has my in class performance been?" Harry continued, not giving his teacher a chance to respond. "They've been exemplary, I have received nothing less than an Exceeds Expectations in any practical assignment. I'm sorry, Professor, but I don't think I have the head for the book work you assign and it really cuts into naps and hunting."

"Mr. Potter, I find both your arrogance in this matter and the idea that you need to hunt despite the feast put on every night as positively atrocious."

"It isn't arrogance if it's true, Professor. I'm not saying I'm the best. I'll readily admit, Hermione has a far better grasp of theoretical understanding than I could ever hope to. So I have decided that rather than trying to force something that won't come, I would rather coax that which responds readily." At his teacher's continued glare, Harry continued. "Let me put it to you this way. Would it be better for me to focus on my strengths or my weaknesses?"

"Mr. Potter, may I pose a question?"

"Of course," Harry replied.

"If you were rubbish at silent movement, would your ability to pounce better than any of your littermates do you a bit of good in catching dinner?"

"I don't suppose so. If that were the case, then the prey would be miles away by the time I got close enough to catch it."

McGonagall's smile was positively feral. "Do you understand my point, Mr. Potter?"

"I suppose…" Harry mumbled. He really didn't like where she was going, and worse, it made perfect sense.

"One may not simply ignore something because it is difficult. I have no doubt that you are an exceptional hunter, if Miss Granger's cat is to be believed, but you didn't arrive at that by pure luck. I am quite sure that it took years of training and practice to allow you to catch your prey with such efficiency, and magic is no different. I don't assign homework simply for the joy of watching my students suffer. There is more to magic than wand waving and incantations, just as there is more to hunting that pouncing and swiping a paw. If you want to become the best wizard you can be you must be prepared to work at it in the same manner that you worked so hard to be the fine specimen of Kneazle that you are." After a moment, she continued. "This may be partially my fault. As your head of house it is my duty to make sure that all my students have the tools to succeed here. I've never taught someone like you before, but you've never had to learn like this before, so we're both new to this. However, after giving it some consideration, I have come to the conclusion that there is only one suitable solution."

"What's that, Cousin?"

"You will arrange for tutoring."

"I'm sorry?" Harry looked up, startled.

"You certainly might be, Mr. Potter. If you are to realize your full potential, I believe it would be best if you had a little help. I am willing to give you a little of my time to ensure your natural affinity for Transfiguration is not squandered. As for the remaining of your trouble subjects, I believe you must approach your professors independently. Your interest must be genuine, Mr. Potter, if not then I will not ask my colleagues to waste their time with a shiftless layabout."

"I'm appreciative Professor, but really it just comes down to Charms and Potions, doesn't it?"

"Your Astronomy marks leave much to be desired, and Professor Binns doesn't even remember having you in class. Your Ancient Runes could stand some improvement as well. These all must be corrected. If you do not ask for help in all of them, then I can't guarantee any of us will be so obliging as to help you independently."

"I see…" Harry trailed off. The next moment Harry's glum attitude at being forcibly driven to excel in bookwork was transformed into spontaneous action by movement entering the open window. Harry dove over the desk and tackled his pseudo-relative to the floor. The arrow missed her head by inches.

"Mr. Potter…" McGonagall's protests were quickly silenced when Harry pointed towards the projectile firmly embedded into the wall of her office. A note was attached.

Scrambling to his feet, Harry quickly removed the parchment and opened it. The contents nearly made him pass out.

'Potter, we have her. A little young for Animagus magic, but she'll feel the Cruciatus just fine. She'll know pain like she's never known before if you don't arrive. Tonight, just after Sunset in the dead clearing in the Forbidden Forest, you know the place. If you want her in one piece no teachers and none of your furry friends. Make the wrong move and she dies.'

A moment later, the sound of wood hitting the castle floor resonated throughout the quiet office. Bending down slowly, Harry picked up a wand that was only slightly less familiar to him than his own.

"What is it, Mr. Potter?"

"Ginny's wand," Harry choked out. "They have her, Professor."

"What do you mean?" McGonagall demanded.

"They have her. I have to go, but I promise that if I get back with all my whiskers and toes I'll ask every bloody teacher in this school for help." With that final pronouncement, Harry yanked the door open and bolted from the room.

"Harry, wait!" McGonagall cried, but to no avail.

His mind was made up, and already it was alive with tactical possibilities. He knew Ginny no longer had her wand, but she might still be able to transform. If she wasn't Stunned, or dead already... Harry shook his head violently. He had to believe she was alive, she was his human, after all, and one doesn't abandon one's staff to psychopathic maniacs, it is simply bad form.

He was going to need help, that was for sure, but they knew to be wary of Kneazles and he couldn't ask the Unicorns for help with the rescue, even if he knew where they were. The teachers were no good, and Harry was certain Pettigrew knew what Mr. Black looked like on two legs and four. No, what he needed were some people that wouldn't be suspected. A plan was beginning to form in his mind.

Arriving into the Gryffindor common room, Harry surveyed his surroundings and found his solution. "Neville, I need your help," Harry burst out. Both Neville and Seamus looked up rather quizzically from their game of exploding snap.

"What can I do?" the slightly podgy boy replied.

"I need you to get Ron, and Hermione and meet me down by Hagrids hut in thirty minutes. Tell Ron we need the cloak." Neville looked a little perplexed at his friend.

"What's going on?"

"You're going to get your revenge," Harry replied.

Without another word, Neville stood and strode towards the stairs leading to the boy's dormitory. Harry hated having to involve any of his friends in this, but none of them would be content to just sit back and let him face this alone. Not to mention what Ron would do if anything happened to Ginny. Harry sent a silent prayer to his lady Isis. 'Let us find and kill these rat-bastards.' Satisfied with his plea, Harry bolted from the room, transformed and pelted towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Once outside the castle, he realized the crucial flaw in his plan, how would he find the Unicorns? He knew they weren't much good in a fight, but they always seemed to know things they ought not be able to. If there was anyone who would know where they were keeping Ginny, the Unicorns would be the ones.

Standing at the edge of the tree line were two bright white Unicorns pawing the ground impatiently. As he skidded to a halt in front of them, the first let out a loud snort.

'Took you bloody well long enough to get here.'

Harry rocked back a bit on his paws, thoroughly in shock. It seemed not all Unicorns were articulate and well-mannered.

'Hush,' the second one scolded.

'Why are you here?' Harry finally asked. He knew why he needed them, but he didn't know why they'd need him.

'Mum thought you might be looking for your filly, what with her being bloody well captured and all.'

'How did you know?' Harry sputtered. Their conversation seemed almost surreal.

'Bloody hell. You are going to go rescuing her, aren't you? We all heard how you charged in and ripped a man's throat out when one of us got cut up. Can't imagine what you'll do to the poor bastards when you get her back. I'd gore them a bit, but Mum says we're not supposed to go doing that. Sullies the innocent reputation we have.'

'Right, yes, I mean I'll definitely kill them, and thank you for the generous offer. Where is she again?'

'Bloody articulate, this one,' the first Unicorn snorted, shaking his head in a dismissive manner.

'Ned, be nice,' the second admonished. 'She's being held behind the dead clearing to the west. There is a little clump of bushes that one of the bad men used magic on to transform it into a little shelter. Honestly, no appreciation for the natural order those two. They're definitely scoundrels by the smell of them.'

'She's alive then?' Harry asked frantically.

'Oh, yes, she's alive. Heard one of the bloody bastards tell the other that they won't finish with her till they finish with you, and we can't let them have that.'

'Honestly, Ned, your language!'

'Poly, if someone doesn't get that stick out from… Oh, bugger off, never mind. I hope that helped. There are two of them, remember that!'

'Why are you doing this?' Harry asked. Ned, whinnied a loud reply.

'She's a friend of yours, i'nnt she? And anyway, we hate to see a pretty young virgin girl get treated that way. Might be a bit less sympathetic, if she were slagging it all over the woods, but she's loyal to you, that's for sure. Got a mouth on that filly to shoe! Gotta help a feisty filly like that.'

Polly rolled her eyes dismissively. 'I'm sorry about Ned, he's the green one of the band.'

'Green one?' Harry asked. He'd never heard that before.

'Yes. Once in a great while, a Unicorn is born green instead of gold. They never do change the colouring either. Other animals have the same peculiarity: black for sheep, purple for wombats, you get the idea.'

'I guess I do,' Harry replied, not at all sure he did.

'I suppose I better get going, you have a filly to rescue, don't you?' With that final goodbye Polly whirled and took off into the forest, leaving Harry to contemplate the fine points of his plan while waiting for his companions to arrive. He sent another prayer that they would all survive, preferably with all their toes and whiskers intact.

oOo

"You want us to do what, Harry?" Hermione whispered rather dramatically.

"I need you and Ron to be the diversion. There are going to be two of them and I'll need someone to distract them for enough time for me to get in close."

"How do you propose we do that? Walk in with signs that read 'Ickle firsties ready for the cursing?'" Ron drawled out.

"If that's what it takes, but I would suggest a good old-fashioned snog."

Both Ron and Hermione turned beet red. "How in the name of Merlin's arse cheeks is that supposed to help?" Ron bellowed.

"Really, Ron, do you want the whole forest to hear us?" Harry replied calmly. "And to answer your question, I don't mean a little peck on the lips, but a full blown 'about to shag your brains out' snog. You and Hermione would burst in the clearing, your hands roaming all over each other. This little bit is important because not only will the movement distract the eye of the opponent, it will also allow you to get your wands out without being so obvious about it. Remember, I've arrived a moment or two before, just enough to assure these dog-rotters that I'm alone. Then you two pop in, checking the other thoroughly for any swelling in one another's throat and making comments about how you don't think the teachers will find you here. As soon as they turn to you, Neville will shoot a spell from behind them, from underneath the Invisibility Cloak. Then, I charge in, gut them both, save Ginny and bippty boppity boop we're back to the castle. No one's the wiser and everyone's a little more relaxed." Harry finished his soliloquy with a grand flourish of his hand and a massive grin.

"And you think this will work, do you?" Ron asked sceptically.

"Do you have a better plan?"

"Well, it's just why can't I be the one under the cloak?"

"Fine by me," Neville chimed in. "I'll snog Hermione and you can hide. I prefer more action anyway."

Ron glared at both of the other boys for a moment before slapping Neville on the side of the head.

"Oi! What was that for?" Neville demanded.

"You're under the cloak, I'll snog Hermione and save my sister, too!"

"Wait a minute!" Hermione screeched.

"A girl's first kiss is supposed to be special! Don't I get a say in any of this?"

"Do you want to save Ginny?" Harry calmly asked.

"Of course."

"Then you have to understand, this is the only way. Everyone has to make sacrifices for the good of the Pride. I'm sorry, Hermione, but this includes you too."

"But… I'm not like that!"

"Don't worry, Hermione, I'm sure Ron won't think any less of you for being a bad kisser," Neville commented.

"I'm not a bad kisser!"

"Then prove it," Ron smirked.

"Harry, is this the only way to save Ginny? I'm sure I could come up with one, if I had a little time. I mean even just a couple minor changes…"

"Hermione, we don't have the time. Please, I need your help with this and this is the only way I can be sure it will work. I swear we won't tell a soul how you helped. Please?" Harry put on his best 'lost and scared kitten' expression and for a moment Hermione seemed indecisive before finally blowing out a loud breath.

"Fine, but this does not mean I fancy you, Ron!"

"Of course not, no one is going to be interested in me snogging the biggest know-it-all in the castle anyway. They'd only ask if you tasted like book paste."

"I do not taste like book paste!"

"Couldn't say for sure, could I? Never tried it on with you," Ron shot back. Hermione glared fiercely at her ginger friend before launching herself at his mouth.

Harry and Neville stood stock still with identical expressions of shock on their faces. "Doesn't look like either knows what they're doing, does it?" Neville whispered.

"No, but they'll do," Harry whispered back. "Harum," Harry cleared his throat. This had the unique effect of causing the angrily kissing duo to break apart suddenly, both with rapidly rising shades of red.

"Can we get on with this then?" Harry asked.

Ron nodded mutely, while Hermione stood. Grabbing the lanky boy's hand she drug him to his feet and strode resolutely into the forest, leaving Neville and Harry behind.

"Do you think they really fancy each other?" Neville asked.

"Nah," Harry replied. "He's never even tried to give her a mouse."

AN: Thank you to everyone so much for your patience. I've been working and thus unable to complete this chapter. Never fear, I shall endeavour to persevere and write the next one faster. For anyone who thinks that Ron and Neville might be acting a bit out of character, I will admit that they are not portrayed quite the way Rowling did, but I am drawing of the unique experience of having once been a 13 year old boy and attempting to interject more realism into their dialogue and interaction. Especially Ron, he grew up with 5 older brothers, the boy would quite likely be incredibly dirty minded. In addition, his complex has been somewhat abated at this point due to other events in the story. I hope this scratches the itch. Almost done, I think. Remember, To these things you must return. Thanks for reading –Manatoc Fox