Can you believe that this is the halfway point? It absolutely blows my mind.
Huge thanks to my Alpha/Betas NuclearNik and Monica03, without them I would be a mess and this story would be a disaster. Also a huge thanks to my Omegas (pre-readers) MarshmallowMcGonagall, QuinTalon, and Weestarmeggie!
To everyone who reads, subscribes, bookmarks, comments/reviews, follows, reblogs, likes, etc: I appreciate you all SO VERY MUCH.
The house was near-silent without Draco there to make some sort of noise. He'd left her a note that morning saying he was going riding at the Manor with his mother. Hermione, left to her own devices, found herself sitting on the sun-warmed sofa with a stack of ancient texts, including some of the Veela diaries. Still in her nightgown and robe, slippers abandoned on the floor, and engrossed in an old diary that Narcissa had sent her was where she was when the front door opened with a telltale creak.
That was odd, they never used the front door. She pulled her wand out and held it tightly in her grip as she peered over the back of the sofa until the click-clack of what sounded like toenails on the hardwood floors along with Draco's familiar gait reached her ears.
What on Earth?
Her eyes widened as the pair of them came into view. Draco was wearing tan riding pants, black knee-high boots, a crisp white button-up with the sleeves rolled to just above his elbows, and a green waistcoat. She'd never seen him dressed in anything remotely of the sort; all he was missing was a riding crop. Her cheeks flamed at the unexpected thought as her eyes shot back to his face.
The smirk that curled his lips and slight narrowing of his eyes told her that her thoughts were obvious, and she closed her mouth with an audible click. The glare she shot him morphed as her eyes wandered down to what had gotten her attention to begin with.
"Oh!"
The first thing that came to her mind was that he looked like a Doberman. He was solid black, deep-chested with a narrow waist, cropped ears, a long narrow snout, cropped tail, and powerful muscle. The thing that truly stood out about him were the bright red eyes amongst all the black. Around his neck was a thick leather collar that a chain leash was attached to, and the leather handle was clasped in Draco's large hand. The dog sat tall next to him with his chest puffed out, the top of his head coming up above Draco's hip easily.
She rose from the couch and went around, stopping a couple of feet shy of them. Slowly, she offered her hand for the giant beast to sniff. When he shoved his nose into her palm, she grinned and began to pet him.
"He's lovely, Draco! What's his name? What sort of dog is he? I've never seen one before."
"Remember when I said that my father had hounds? That wasn't quite accurate. My family have been breeding Hellhounds and prize peacocks for a few generations now. People the world over want a Malfoy Hellhound, which brings in a nice income in and of itself." He paused to watch the dog as he sniffed at her dressing gown, then unclipped the leash.
"Ian named him Damon as a puppy from one of the extensive lists Mother gave him. When Father was sent to Azkaban, Mother would continue to get his opinions on the bloodlines for the breeding program. She can do it on her own now with relative ease. You know how she is with her genealogy interests. While she doesn't actively participate, she does give Ian a list at the beginning of the year of what dogs are to be bred and if any puppies are to be retained from each litter, which ones need training to what specifications, etcetera."
"Who's Ian?" She rubbed behind Damon's ears as he sat attentively at her feet, head leaned back to study at her. Those big red eyes brought back a certain fairytale line. The better to see you with, my dear.
"Ian Scamander, of the Scamander family. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander surely rings a bell. That's his great uncle. The entire family is talented in animal handling and husbandry. They've gone the world over to take care of beast problems, which have provided them with a fortune in and of itself on top of the old family money. They mainly use it to invest and breed creatures for show and sale. We've bought several horses and the occasional Hellhound to introduce new lines to our programs."
"Oh, I'm surprised he doesn't work for the family business." Her hand moved around to scratch the expanse of throat that was bared by the way the dog's head was tilted back to watch her. She giggled at the pleased grumble.
"Every family has someone who doesn't fit in. A black sheep, even if it's only for a time. His father wanted to force him to go to America to set up a branch of their business, and he didn't want to leave the UK. My father heard about it from Severus, who was Ian's Head of House. Most of that family are Hufflepuffs with the occasional Ravenclaw here and there. Ian was an outlier most of his life. He was an excellent student, and Father capitalized on the situation." Draco looked out the window as if he were looking into a Pensieve to the past. "Father interviewed him extensively, walked him around the grounds so he could demonstrate his knowledge and skill. He was hired before he graduated Hogwarts and moved into the cottage on the grounds the summer after his Sixth Year. It took time, but eventually, he and his family made up. Ian could have left to rejoin them but he liked the haven the extensive grounds of Malfoy Manor provided. No being sent off all across the world at the drop of a hat, no being controlled by his family; just a quiet job with animals and the staff that oversees the majority of them. He's exclusively in charge of the dogs. It makes him happy," Draco explained, trailing off at the end.
She couldn't help but think of Charlie, running off to the dragon reserve in Romania. Ron had hinted once that Molly tried to force Charlie's life in a direction he didn't want. Ginny flat out told her that Arthur had secretly put him in touch with the person in charge of the dragon reserve because he couldn't stand the thought of his son being so unhappy just to appease his mother.
"Forcing someone into doing something you want isn't really the ideal way of going about things. It has a tendency to backfire on you." Her gaze drifted to him.
"Exactly." The word felt heavy in her ears as he looked at her pointedly.
She gave a delicate sniff but didn't say anything, instead returning her attention to her new friend.
"I take it he's housebroken?"
"Quite." He ignored how she'd ignored him.
"Tricks?"
"Damon, shake," Draco commanded.
The dog immediately held out an enormous paw for Hermione to grasp and pump up and down. When she let go it fell back to the floor with a loud whomp.
"Anything else?" It was hard to resist bouncing on her toes in glee.
"Well, he's crate trained, does well on a collar and leash, and is trained as a guard dog so you'd be able to take him in public with you if you wanted. As for other tricks specifically, he knows to come, sit, lay, shake, stay, and of course what no means. Anything else you'll have to teach him. He's not even a year old so he's still very malleable yet."
"I've never had a dog before." Excitement lit up her eyes.
"Really? I've had them all my life, obviously. Father used to sneak puppies into my room sometimes if I was having a hard day with lessons or on the outs with a Governess." It was rare that a grin curled his lips when it came to the topic of Lucius, but for once Draco seemed at peace while mentioning him.
She tried to imagine Lucius doing something sweet but had a hard time of it since her interactions with him were so skewed in the other direction. She knew, though, that his parents loved him very much, so with that thought in mind the abstract wasn't so hard to imagine.
"Did you have your own dog ever or did you just enjoy the pups?"
"Father had one he shared with me. They live over twenty years and with me going to Hogwarts at eleven it wouldn't have been fair for me to have one all to myself. He mostly stayed with me during my childhood, guarding and keeping watch over me and Mother, especially when Father had… company over. When I went off to Hogwarts, he went back to being Father's shadow, but he always returned to me when I was at home and spent most of my waking hours with me." Fondness laced his voice, and she found herself desperately wanting to know more about the good things in his childhood.
"What was his name?" Curiosity bubbled as to what Lucius would name a dog. It was likely pretentious.
"Agamemnon. I called him Aggy because I was so small when I first learned to say it. Father made me call him by his actual name in front of others, but I called him Aggy in private all his life." His smile faltered at the end, and Hermione inferred that the dog hadn't peacefully died of old age.
A cold, squirmy thing settled in the pit of her stomach at the idea of what may have befallen the dog with what she knew of Draco's Sixth and Seventh year, so she refrained from asking, not wanting to dredge up bad memories that would overshadow the happiness he'd lit up with.
"Can you teach me how to train him?"
He blinked and was back to the present. "Of course, it's very easy. It just takes consistency and doing it every day. Is there anything specific you want to teach him?"
"Erm, I guess stuff like spin, speak, roll over, sit up… Oh and fetch!" There was a strange excitement at the prospect of flinging a tennis ball for the dog, especially since she could use magic to elongate any throw.
"Fetch will involve a few more things like bringing it and giving it back or dropping it, but it's easy enough to manage." He shrugged.
"Are they any good at tracking?"
"Quite. It takes a bit of training but he'll take to it quickly. It's something the breed is naturally inclined towards."
Reclipping the leash back onto the collar, he cleared his throat to get the dog's attention.
He reached out for Hermione's hand and when she lay it in his, he put the leash in her palm, curling her fingers around it.
Damon let out a bark and wagged his nub.
"That signifies that you're not just a friend, but his owner too. Now he'll listen to you just like he does me."
Her face brightened, and Draco seemed enamored for a moment.
"I can't believe you got me a dog!" She flung herself into his arms, giddy.
He squeezed her close, kissing her forehead. "They're excellent for protection. This house is nearly impenetrable but it never hurts to have backup measures, and I imagine you'd like some company to Diagon once this whole mess is over. When you don't need me at your side constantly."
"I'll always want you with me, Draco. There are times I may need to go and you can't or don't want to go. That and I need to be able to make trips on my own again eventually." She peeked up at him through her lashes. "But thank you. It was an extremely thoughtful thing to do."
A dog had seemed overwhelming when she'd been living by herself despite it being a sensible move, but now the addition felt right.
"While I don't like the idea of you out of my sight, ever, you're not wrong." He set her back down and planted a quick kiss on her mouth.
She grinned at him and stepped back, unclipping the leash again. Moving back over to the couch, she dropped it on the far end table as she went past, her new shadow following just behind.
Reclaiming her seat, she went to pat the spot beside her.
"Not on the furniture!"
A pout took over her expression as she dragged her gaze over to him.
"I mean it, Hermione. He cannot get on the furniture. You can't sneak him table scraps either. Bumble and Bee already have their instructions for fixing his meals and he needs to stick to that, else he's going to get spoiled," he said sternly.
"Next thing you'll be telling me is that I can't give him dog biscuits."
"He doesn't need biscuits! He's already getting fresh meat for every meal and as a training incentive. And another thing, he needs to sleep in his crate at night. The door doesn't need to be shut but it's his own space, and he enjoys sleeping in it." His eyebrows lowered and he got that stubborn set to his jaw.
"Really? I figured you'd just feed them kibble of some sort." She was surprised, somehow, that he'd get real meat. In hindsight, she really shouldn't have been.
"Kibble— You do NOT give a world-class Malfoy Hellhound kibble! They are performance animals and must be fed as such. It's in every contract that's signed for every single pup." He scowled as if she'd insulted him.
She let that go for other questions, surprised he was getting so worked up.
"Let me repeat: I've never owned a dog, let alone such a special one." Her eyes narrowed. "What else? Am I limited in the affection I can give him? Is he restricted to the ground floor? Can I not take him swimming with me in the pond?" Petulance laced her voice, her lips setting in a firm line.
He gave a sigh of long suffering. "No, you can pet him as much as you want. He can go anywhere you allow him to go. And no, he cannot go to the pond." He hurried on at the sight of her mouth opening. "You can take him in the pool with you if he'll get in. You don't even want to get in that filthy pond anyway, Granger. Don't try to convince me otherwise."
He had a point, she didn't, but far be it from her to admit that.
"You have a pool?" Her brows furrowed. How had she missed such a thing? They weren't exactly easy to hide.
"Well, you were rather drugged up when I gave you the original tour and after hearing about the library that part of it probably just flew right out of your head," he said teasingly.
"Probably." That was a fair assessment. She'd never been a big swimmer but she did enjoy it on occasion on holiday where it was warm.
A large warm head rested on her thigh, gentle red eyes looking up at her. She felt warm again as she stroked along his muzzle, running her fingertips up between his eyes, then along the top of his head to scratch behind his ears. Determination set in over the treat aspect and it must have shown on her face.
"I don't want to take your joy away, Hermione. It's just the only way I know how to have a dog and keep them in hand. Hellhounds are working dogs. People keep them around, not as pets, but as active protectors. Give them a centimeter and they'll take a kilometer." His voice was gentle.
It was obvious he was trying to avoid upsetting her further, and she relaxed a fraction. He'd had dogs his entire life, and it was likely what Lucius had taught him about owning one.
"It's not going to hurt if I give him some treats now and then," she grumbled.
He looked like he was secretly searching every nook and cranny for patience. "What did you have in mind?"
"I was thinking maybe some sort of homemade dog biscuits." If kibble was out of the question, boxed treats likely were as well.
"Biscuits?"
"Well yes. I've seen them in pet stores before; they can't be that hard to make."
"Where are you going to get a recipe?"
"I'm going to write to a couple of shops in Diagon. If all else fails, Draco, I'll pop in a Muggle library and use the Internet." Her eyebrows had drawn back together again at his stubbornness. It was just dog biscuits, she didn't understand why he was being so difficult.
"We'll pop in, you mean... What's the Internet?" His eyes cut over to her.
"I'll show you one day." A crazed grin dragged across her mouth as she thought about the things she could introduce him to.
"If you say so." He left the idea of it alone, looking suddenly nervous, likely in response to her reaction.
Draco may have come around to many things, but it was probably still best to introduce him to Muggle things in small batches.
"Well, I do. Now I'm going to send an owl to the Menagerie in Diagon inquiring about books as well as Flourish and Blotts." She hopped up and trotted off to her room, Damon happily following behind.
An hour later and she had a whole assortment of books tottering precariously on the coffee table. Draco was examining them with a critical eye as she flicked through a book specifically on Hellhounds. "I could have told you all of that. The whole stack's worth of information."
"I'm aware. You know how I am though."
"All too well." A cheeky smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth.
She shot him a glare before putting it down in favor of a cookbook. Perhaps a pamphlet was a better descriptor for how few recipes it contained.
"Aha!" She pointed victoriously to the last recipe in the booklet. "This one is simple. Eggs, flour, peanut butter, honey, and pumpkin."
"Sounds disgusting."
"I bet he'll eat every last crumb. It's almost like a biscuit recipe."
"Yeah, if you omit the butter, sugar, baking powder and salt." He picked up the pamphlet.
"I was thinking more of a peanut butter biscuit, except swap the flour and sugar. Besides, how do you know the recipe for iced biscuits?"
That was an odd turn of events.
"Well, when a madman and his entourage moves in, the best thing to do is go where none of them would deign to and that's the kitchen or the larder. After a certain point, you just get interested in what's going on around you and learn something or go barmy. Mother has an affinity for them so there wasn't exactly a shortage. There were only so many books I could read, after all. The library was a risky place. Never knew who would be in there doing some sort of dark research."
"Oh." That was likely the last answer she ever anticipated coming from him. He almost never spoke of that time and when he did, it was quite brief with an abrupt subject change.
"Yes, oh. Anyway, we'll make some of these later and see what happens." He seemed resigned to her experiment at this point, and she was not about to discourage that.
The image of working in the kitchen with Draco brought a smile to her face. "Lovely." He'd helped her in the kitchen before a few times, but the idea of baking with him felt domestic in a way nothing else would.
Harry had told her all about his Aunt Marge and her dogs. She'd gotten the impression they'd be garbage disposals if they were allowed to be.
A snort and warm breath across her feet brought her attention back to the gigantic dog on the floor with his nose inches from her. "I can't believe you had these and didn't tell me."
"You'd have found out if you'd let me bring you one when you were still living in that house by yourself." He frowned and looked away. He'd tried a few times to introduce the idea but had ultimately backed off. Knowing what she knew now, she would bet the thought to just appear with one had been quite tempting.
"I wouldn't have been comfortable having a giant dog to manage all by myself when I'd only ever had Crookshanks before." She rolled her eyes and pulled herself from the couch. She climbed in his lap, straddling him and cupping his face in her palms.
His hands slid up her thighs and grasped her hips. "Still, Granger, I—" He blew a sigh through his nose. "Nevermind, the past is the past. We have extra protection now, so even if I get pulled away for some reason, he'll be here along with Bumble and Bee."
"I hardly think that's necessary, but if it makes you feel better—"
"It does."
"—then I see no reason to argue now." She leaned down and stole a kiss.
As she pulled back one hand snaked up her side, slid up her back, and cupped her neck, pulling her back down so he could kiss her more languidly, his tongue teasing at the seam of her mouth. She opened for him, suckling on his tongue as it invaded, swallowing his groan as she stroked the muscle with her own, almost as if she were sucking his cock. The remaining hand on her hip clenched, and she rubbed herself against him. Her fingers were sliding their way down his chest when a huff sounded and she froze.
He pulled back by millimeters, voice slightly ragged. "It's just the dog, ignore him." Draco resumed exploring her mouth, the hand on her hip sliding down to trace along her thighs. Trembling fingers had just unbuckled his belt when another loud sigh came from behind her, and she pulled away to glance over her shoulder.
Damon was still in the floor where she'd left him, peeking up at her from his prone position on his side.
"What's wrong with this bloody dog? I don't remember Agememnon behaving like this."
"I've no idea. Let's go make him some biscuits, and we'll put him outside after."
"Or we could put him outside, and I could devour you on the dining room table."
Her thighs clenched at that suggestion. He'd made her come half a dozen times the night before over the course of the evening, yet here she was wanting more of him. An addict is what she was clearly becoming, with him being her drug of choice.
"If you make dog biscuits with me, I'll wear that body stocking again and let you do whatever you like." She rolled her hips, rubbing herself against the hard length beneath her.
"I'm fairly certain I could convince you to be a good girl and do whatever I'd like anyway." His hand gripped her chin, thumb brushing against her bottom lip. Her tongue darted out, flicking the pad before it invaded her mouth. She sucked on it, hollowing her cheeks, teasing with her tongue as his breathing grew uneven. He slid it from between her lips with a pop and brushed her chin. "Couldn't I?"
"Likely," she whispered.
He leaned back in, lips brushing hers. "It's a deal then," he murmured against her mouth before claiming one last kiss, nipping her bottom lip.
It took her a moment to regain her bearings, realizing how tense she was and exactly how affected she'd become in those brief moments from the wetness between her thighs. He could likely finger-fuck her with ease with how slick she'd become. A sly grin curved his lips as he watched her, and she scowled at him. "Cheating."
He laughed as she pulled herself to her feet and headed to the perfectly clean kitchen. The scramble of muscle and bone against the floor sounded before the click of toenails caught up to her. Ingredients were lined up as well as bowls and measuring cups. A flush stole across her face. There was no telling what the elves had seen when she'd gotten lost in Draco during their escapades across the house.
"I think you'll need this." The pamphlet hit the counter with a whap as Draco walked by and plopped it next to the bowl as he went to set the oven.
Right, yes, she did. He could erase her brain far too easily.
It was a simple process, measuring and mixing the ingredients together. While it didn't exactly meet her idea of them baking together, his hands on her hips, his hard body behind her, and his chin resting on her head as he watched made up for the solo work. He was present, intensely so, and that's what counted.
She dumped the dough out onto the counter and used magic to flatten it to a perfectly even rectangle. A twirl of her wand had an array of cookie cutters at her disposal.
"Just cut it in squares; he's not going to care. If he even eats any of these things." He snorted, his warm breath ruffling her hair.
She rolled her eyes upwards and thought about stepping on his foot, but she bet his boots were charmed impervious, just in case of an incident with a horse.
"I'll do what I like." The eyeroll he gave was practically audible, and she made a show of cutting out a variety of shapes and sending them magically onto the sheet pans. The dough was reshaped, and she repeated the action until there was none left.
A bake cycle and a cooling charm later had them ready to test out. She clicked her tongue against her teeth, causing the dog to hop up from where he'd been dozing in a patch of sunlight behind the breakfast table and come trotting over.
"Sit," she commanded.
When he had done so, she held a bone-shaped treat out by her fingers in offering. He sniffed at it a bit, looking up at her. "What are you waiting for? Take it."
Those seemed to be the magic words because he gingerly took and chomped it down. His eyes darted over to the surplus resting on the trays before coming back to rest on her.
"Alright, but just one more." She cut her eyes triumphantly at Draco, who merely groaned and squeezed her hips in annoyance. She pulled another off and watched as he took it so gently from her fingers.
"Bloody marvelous."
"I told you so." She waved her wand and the treats lifted and flew into a glass canister that closed itself up tight after the last one landed on the pile.
"I enjoyed baking with you." It was a surprise just how much she'd enjoyed his physical presence looming large behind her. Usually, she ran all and sundry out of her workspace, to the other side of the bar at minimum in her old kitchen.
"Same, although I only heated the oven and stood behind you. Maybe next time we can make a pie. I could make the filling while you prepared the crust."
The thought made her warm and tingly; domestic. She'd never felt anything special towards domesticity before but it was different now.
"I'd like that. A lot," she said simply. "Caramel apple?"
"I'd not say no to it, that's for certain." He leaned down and brushed his nose against her neck.
She hadn't anticipated enjoying making things in the kitchen with him and it was something she'd never realized she'd wanted until now. She'd never been interested in being Ron's cook and bottle washer in the time of her crush on him, nor had she appreciated his attitude about it when he'd been with them during The Hunt.
She watched Dracoout of the corner of her eye as she cleaned everything and put things away, able to tell he wanted to say something. The elves would likely come behind her and give the kitchen a thorough scrub, but she was unable to leave the kitchen a mess.
Just as she was about to give in and ask, he spoke up. "I think we should do a reading tomorrow night."
She put the last of the measuring cups away before facing him and leaning against the counter.
"You mean like the one you and your mother did a few weeks ago?" She was curious as to where he would get the cards. Narcissa said the other deck wouldn't be available until Draco got married. Until they got married, she realized. That is, if he decided he wanted to marry her. It wasn't like she'd ever leave him or vice versa. She compartmentalized that thought immediately, wanting to turn it over in her mind by herself first and not make assumptions.
He nodded. "Full moon tomorrow night, optimal timing. Plus we have everything we need from our jaunt out into the forest the other day in addition to what I already have in my stores."
"Where are you going to get the cards?"
"Mother gave me her extra set this morning. We'll have to change up the herbs some and use some additional floriography to enhance it since this will be your first real reading.
She just blinked at him and resolved to ask later, instead going with another question. "I'm guessing you'll be the one to do the reading itself? As dramatic as Trelawney was, probably the only accurate thing she said was that I wasn't a good conduit."
He merely nodded. "Yes, I'll have to, seeing as they're familial cards and we're not yet bonded." That sent her heart beating faster in pleasure at the ease of which he said it. "Although I don't quite believe that you wouldn't be a good conduit. You just need to open up to the idea of it more, with time of course. You can't tell the scent of a flower if it hasn't yet bloomed."
She shrugged, not wanting to bank on anything with the topic. Even if she did actually open herself up, she still may not have any actual talent for it. "We'll see what happens if I do manage to bloom."
A grin slid across his lips. "I should do a personal reading for you one day."
Somehow, that seemed appealing. "Perhaps as a Christmas gift?"
If it was Draco doing it, it was bound to feel as real as the session the other night, not to mention dreadfully intimate. She had a feeling she'd enjoy it even if she didn't ever quite believe in it like they did. It was tempting to ask how he was at palmistry.
His eyes gleamed at the idea, and she knew she'd asked for the right thing.
"I would love to," he whispered before leaning over and claiming her lips with his own, pinning her against the counter again.
Later that night, as she lay snuggled against Draco, she indulged herself in the idea of them bonding their magic together and even potentially soul bonding. Soul bonding was supposed to be rar,e and she'd never thought it'd be a possibility for her. The idea of getting married young had always been off-putting, but things were different now. Her thoughts drifted to what he may look like in the Wizarding World's idea of wedding attire as she listened to Damon snoring from his richly padded crate.
Draco sucked in a breath through his nose as he woke, ruffling her hair with the exhale. "Can't sleep?" His voice was groggy, gravely.
She merely shook her head.
"What's wrong?" His arm around her waist tightened, pulling her back against him more firmly as he tucked his face against her neck.
"Nothing, I'm not quite sure why I'm still awake." It was strange. She was warm, comfortable, relaxed. She felt safer than she ever had, and yet sleep was elusive.
"I'll get you a draught, stay here." His lips pressed against her neck and then he was gone. She shivered at the loss of the warmth at her back and she rolled over, her eyes scanning the room.
She realized that the snoring she'd listened to had stopped and her eyes sought out the crate. Two gleaming red eyes were open and scoping out the room attentively. They followed Draco as he returned with a thimble-sized cup.
The draught was sweeter than she remembered as she tipped it into her mouth and swallowed, which was rare when it came to Wizarding medications. Draco climbed back beneath the blankets and pulled her against him again. His hands drifted up and down her back in a soothing rhythm as she tucked her face against his chest.
"Thank you." Her voice was muffled but she knew he heard it all the same.
"Always."
The press of lips against her crown was the last thing she registered before dropping off into blissful sleep.
See you all next weekend!
Also, my fandom wife MrsRen and I are hosting an online book club called Fic Club over on Discord! We're currently in a summer reading of The Fallout (we're on week 7, but folks are more than welcome to still join in!), and we're also doing Once More With Feeling by Kyonomiko for the month of July. We also welcome people who want to host their own read-a-longs on our server! If you're interested in joining us, hit us up on tumblr: MrsRen & noncanonlove for a link to the server or if you wish to discuss hosting!