Chapter Thirty-Eight

Phil had talked him into joining him and Sylvia that night for the meteor shower, promising that Draco wouldn't be the awkward third wheel to the romance he saw blossoming between his relatively new friends. Draco had never been a third wheel and he wasn't planning on starting that night. Honestly it was a sign of the times that he didn't have some simpering Slytherin girl dangling from his arm. It would be easy if Pansy's overtures were anything to go by. She'd decided to insert herself firmly in his presence whenever she could, popping up at the most random of times with fluttering dark lashes and swaying hips to goad him into acknowledging her. But Draco had been stalwart in ignoring her as best he could without starting an all out war between them.

Draco had known about the meteor shower, had known it was a bit of a tradition to invite a love interest out to the grounds in the dark of night and, well, stargaze as it were. He'd done so himself with Pansy—and a few others when Pansy was in one of her moods and needed a reminder of what a prize Draco was. And yet the day had crept upon him, caught him unawares and had immediately made him think of Hermione Granger. He'd brought it up to Phil as they dressed for the chill evening, offhandedly throwing out the idea of inviting her, but Phil had gotten that look on his face that Draco was quickly learning meant he was up to something, and convinced Draco otherwise.

Draco quickly found out why upon leaving the castle and feeling that tug of awareness that he'd felt on the Quidditch Pitch. A Slytherin since before he knew such a house existed, Draco recognized Phil's machinations: placing himself so that he and Granger were side by side, talk of wishing for isolation. The pointed looks at Hermione while everyone else sat quietly as if they were all in on it. Never one to pass up an opportunity, Draco seized the moment, running full tilt towards the Quidditch pitch when he was sure he was out of sight, and returning with a broomstick and a plan.

And so they found themselves in the air with the stars shining like diamonds in the crisp air above them. Their hands were clutched together against Hermione's chest where he was sure he could feel her heart pattering away against his fingertips. She'd settled so naturally against him, if a little tense in the beginning. Nevertheless she accepted the embrace and Draco knew full well she could break free of it if she so desired. He hoped he wasn't being too forward, but ever since he'd realized that there just might be a fleeting chance that Hermione might like him Draco saw things differently, felt them differently.

They sat in their own world in the sky, pressed close together for warmth. He looked down to speak but the words were stolen from him. They were so close, faces bare inches apart. His eyes stole down to her mouth, so sweet and full and inviting. Whatever spell this was it seemed to have snagged her too, for she didn't pull away. He thought, This is it, this is the moment! They were alone and surrounded by falling stars, and if Draco had read everything right this had been orchestrated by his and Hermione's own friends, sanctioned by unspoken agreement. Draco could feel the weight of it press down upon him, urge him to make that final move, close the distance between their lips. Just as he was about to give into it Hermione turned her head, breaking the spell.

Draco could have wept. Everything had laid itself out so easily, how had he missed the mark on this one?

Draco had never struggled this much in making his feelings known, but that was probably because most of the time the woman he sought had already sought him out first. Determined not to let the denial get him down, Draco spoke, quoting Lord Byron and was met with more silence. Still he trudged on and when finally he got a smile out of her, he felt himself relax. Right, so he hadn't completely screwed that up.

"For one brief moment I felt like there was no one in the world but us—" Hermione cut herself off and Draco couldn't help but smile; she was finally getting it. That's exactly what he wanted her to feel, like it was just the two of them and that she was safe here to be herself with him, and he felt safe too, to explore the more vulnerable side of himself. She had inadvertently torn down the walls he had built to keep himself safe, walls that had protected him during the war, during his childhood from his father and Death Eaters, from Voldemort himself. He would be ever grateful for that, even if things didn't pan out between them.

It was only sheer force of will that kept his body in check. Shivers threatened to run up and down his arms and hands where they made contact with hers, and his throat felt tight as if an invisible hand closed upon it. His heart was the only thing he couldn't control; it beat with meaning in his chest, quick as Snitch wings.

"Ready to head back down?" he asked, and when she agreed Draco angled them towards the ground, unable to pass up another opportunity to scare her again. He laughed the whole way down.

xXx

Draco was still rubbing at his arm when they rejoined with the rest of the group, Hermione having exacted her punishment on him for scaring her yet again. It was well worth it, though, to feel her body press ever more against his as they had descended.

"Done canoodling off in the sky, are you?" Of course it was Munoz, ever toeing the line.

"Jealous that the same can't be said for you? Or is being a third-wheel your thing these days?" Draco tossed back with a crooked smile.

Munoz shrugged, unfazed by the jab. "Ever heard of fun in numbers?"

"Yes, but I've never been one for sharing," Draco said, before realizing exactly how presumptuous that must have sounded. Harry and Ginny exchanged looks, and Sylvia ducked her head, hiding her smirk. Draco cut a glance to Hermione, she was staring at him with a smile frozen on her face as if she wasn't quite sure what Draco meant by that comment. "Anyway I think we should be getting back. There's only so much McGonagall's willing to turn a blind eye to."

They all traversed back to the castle in a loose group, chatting about the spectacle they'd just witnessed. It was surprisingly easy going despite the past that hung between them. Draco might have otherwise felt out of place and awkward, even with Hermione there, but Phil and Sylvia were the balance to any awkwardness that might have intruded upon Draco's evening. Even Miguel's presence seemed to work in everyone's favour, annoying as he could be.

He was talking with Sylvia about something inconsequential when a group of about four boys forced themselves between them, roughly jostling and shouldering Draco out of the way. One of them even tugged at his robes and he had to snatch them back in order to not be dragged along with them. They were running, and by the time Draco thought to berate them, they had pulled too far ahead. The night made it difficult to make out any defining features, but Draco thought he recognized one of them. Cartwright, he was sure of it.

Sylvia was cursing them in a most unladylike fashion as Draco turned to make sure she was alright.

"What is their problem," Phil groused. He had been a little further ahead talking with Munoz, and the boys who had bumped Draco and Sylvia had deftly avoided him and everyone else who walked ahead.

"I don't know," Draco said stiffly, righting his robes with angry gestures. "But—" And he stopped because he felt something in one of his pockets that hadn't been there before. He reached in and pulled it out. By that point the Gryffindors ahead had turned back to see what the fuss was. It was cardstock with very little written upon it. The words sent a frisson of foreboding down his spine:

Posuimus Enim Resurgemus

Northtowers, Stroke of 2

"What is it, Malfoy?" It was Potter, stepping forward with Hermione just behind him looking concerned.

Draco had a decision to make.

This was the third time he'd encountered these three words. Curious one night, he had looked up their meaning and found that there was no straightforward translation, but out of all of the meanings he'd ciphered, one suddenly made more sense than the other: Together We Rise.

Between classes and training Hermione, Quidditch and working on the Charm, he'd completely forgotten about the note on his desk and the whispered words in the dining hall. Now here they were again, with what Draco could only assume was a meeting time and place. And if Cartwright was involved in all of this it couldn't be good. Draco also didn't like the sounds of Together We Rise. It stank of something awfully familiar to the rhetoric Voldemort touted when he was still alive. Then there was that afternoon Blaise, Cartwright and Burlington had discovered Draco in the woods. Up to no good, Draco was sure, what with talk of 'values falling by the wayside'.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what they were about. The question was, did Draco bring Hermione and her lot into it? On the one hand, they were all getting on quite well as things were and Draco was really only just getting used to the idea of being around them in any amount of regularity. Hating Gryffindors had been a passion of a lifetime, so some habits were hard to break, one of them being steadfastly against all things Golden Trio related and refusing to fall into the trap of hero worship. Draco was finding that he didn't exactly hate being around them—though that was not including Weasley, who was proving to be every bit as annoying and dull as Draco imagined—but did that mean he wanted their help in this?

Would they see him as weak for involving them? Think he was using their influence to solve his own problems to his own ends? None of that was true in the least, but there was the risk of miscommunication, with Draco being who he was, and them being…them.

"Well?" Potter pressed, frowning.

Potter was basically making the decision for him, choosing to involve himself when he had no reason to. Who was Draco to stop him?

He handed the card to Potter who read it, his frown only deepening in confusion. "Posuimus Enim Resurgemus," he read, then looked up at Draco. "What does that mean? And what does this bit mean at the bottom? A meeting spot?"

"The best translation I could come up with is Together We Rise," Draco explained. "And yes, I believe it can be assumed that some sort of meeting is to take place tonight in the Astronomy tower."

"You don't look half as confused as the rest of us surely feel," Ginny said, with the barest hint of suspicion underlying her words. "What is this about, Malfoy?"

Draco straightened and explained to them the conclusions he had drawn. When he finished they were all looking very concerned. Potter looked more tired than anything and Draco, surprisingly, could understand. Sometimes it seemed the Wizarding World would never move past prejudice and racism no matter how hard they tried. Draco was only just copping on to the idea of it himself, realizing how disgusting and trivial it all was. It was just hard to see that others were still struggling with the notion, despite being defeated time after time.

"Are you going to go?" Hermione asked, when no one spoke. She stepped around Potter, reaching out to place a hand on Draco's arm. Not far from where you'd punched me earlier, Draco thought in an odd moment of humour. "It's just that you've worked so hard to do good things this year, and I would hate to see all of that go to waste because of a few stubborn Slytherins."

It went unspoken that Draco could easily be marked as a supporter of whatever delusional cause they had dreamed up, because of his past, but they all knew it. The look in Hermione's eyes was one of concern, almost pleading with her gaze for him to stay out of it.

Draco swept his hand through his hair, agitated. She was right, but he couldn't stand around and do nothing, not when they had already dragged him into it. The notes alone were enough to incriminate him if anything were to actually unfold. He had to get involved if he wanted to clear his name.

He reached down and laid a hand over hers where it still rested on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting go. "I appreciate your concern, Hermione, but that's exactly why I must get involved, if only to see what they're up to. Left to their own devices, this could quickly spiral out of control."

"I have to agree with Malfoy on this one," Potter said with some reluctance. He looked at Hermione, his face set. "If anyone knows the truth of that, it's us. Look what Malfoy got up to when no one was watching."

It was a joke, Draco knew by the wry smile Potter wore, but it still stung nonetheless. Draco forced a chuckle. "Fair point."

Hermione looked ready to protest but Potter spoke first. "So what is your plan?"

Draco shrugged casually. "This invitation is proof enough that they still see me as 'one of theirs'. I figure I'll just show up and play to that, gathering as much information as possible while I'm there."

"I suppose I won't ask why they think that," Potter muttered, giving Draco a sideways look, as if searching for any signs that he'd been having them on this entire time.

"Don't worry your scarred head about it, Potter. The inner-workings of Slytherin espionage may be too complicated for you to conceive. Just know that I have everything under control," Draco said arrogantly, dusting his shoulder for show.

Potter rolled his eyes. "Famous last words."

"Oh, don't doubt our Draco here," Phil chimed in, placing a supportive hand on Draco's shoulder. "He practically made Slytherin what it is today."

"I believe that's where the concern stems from," Draco said, with a glare at Phil for his unhelpful comment. "It's a double edged sword to be sure, but I'm confident that I can walk the line." He took the card from Potter and pocketed it with hopes that no one saw the Gryffindor holding it. "I should get going if I want to arrive on time. Wish me luck."

"Be careful," Hermione said gently, her eyes boring into his. "And if you need help, don't hesitate to contact one of us."

Draco smiled gently, dipping his head. "I won't."

He couldn't possibly imagine a scenario that he wouldn't be able to worm his way out of, but he was grateful for the offer of support.

xXx

The north tower was dark and empty. He could hear a strong wind howling against the brick walls. It was certainly a dire environment, perfect for holding a clandestine meeting. He assumed that the meeting would be held in the Astronomy classroom itself, and when he walked in he was unsurprised to see Anderson already there, with Cartwright at his side. Both of them were seated at a table near the back of the room, and Draco joined them.

"Thought you wouldn't make it, Draco. You seemed pretty cozy with those Gryffindors earlier," Anderson commented, his eyes narrowed.

"Keep your enemies closer, and all that," Draco said flippantly, with a wave of his hand. "What is all this, then? We're far too old for Boy's Clubs these days."

Cartwright snorted and leaned over the table, voice low as if they weren't the only ones in the room. "This is no Boy's Club, Draco. We've got a mission and we want you on board."

Draco quirked an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "I'm listening."

Just then the door opened and another person entered the room. Draco turned to see Pansy Parkinson strolling towards them, her sharp smile stretched across her pale face.

"This is just wonderful," she simpered. Once she reached them she leaned down and gave Draco a lingering kiss on each cheek, which Draco gritted his teeth through. "The night is just ripe for secret meetings, don't you agree?" she said, with a covetous look at Draco. "I will admit I was a bit shocked when I received my invitation, but I believe you've made the right choice involving me." She pulled out a chair next to Draco and sat with practiced grace.

Draco's smile was stiff as he looked at Anderson and Cartwright. "You invited Pansy. How clever of you." Pansy cut him a look, hearing the undertone in his voice, but of course neither of the other boys caught on to it.

"We thought so," said Anderson with a sly smile. "She proved herself trustworthy when she spoke up about handing Potter over."

Draco nearly rolled his eyes. How little it took to please them.

"So you've got me, Pansy, and yourselves." He pointedly surveyed the rest of the empty classroom. "I can tell you you'll need more than that if you're to accomplish anything."

Anderson nodded. "Of course we'll need more than us. You two aren't the first people we've spoken to, and you'll not be the last. What we're planning is huge." He glanced over at Cartwright. "We've decided to take things slowly and make sure we're doing it right, that we've gotten people we can trust." His eyebrows flicked up and down. "And so we get to the point."

There was a dramatic pause that Draco waited out, refusing to show any sign of physical discomfort. Pansy uncrossed and crossed her legs again, huffing to show her displeasure at being kept waiting.

"We'll need both of you to do something for us to prove your loyalty," Anderson said.

Draco sighed and stood, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "I'm not some errand boy to be sent around the castle on your whim—"

Anderson jumped up from his chair, reached across the table, and gripped Draco's arm hard enough to bruise. His face was contorted in anger, lips bared over crooked teeth. "Sit down, Malfoy. I'm not asking."

Draco assessed his options. He could toss a hex before Anderson knew what was happening and lay him flat on his back, while simultaneously ruining what in he had to this grave plan. Or he could allow himself to seem cowed by Anderson's pathetic attempt at intimidation. The first option would remind Anderson exactly who it was he had in hand, but the second would yield valuable information.

He raised an eyebrow, turning to face the table again. When finally Anderson released him, Draco took his seat in silence. Pansy was staring at him, but her expression revealed nothing. Draco knew her well enough to guess at her thoughts, but it was also true that Pansy was quite familiar with Draco, and so could probably surmise his angle. This gambit would be a tricky one if he didn't want Pansy to give him away.

"If you're done creating a spectacle Draco," Pansy's face returned to its usual haughty expression. "I have no issues running an errand or two if it means we'll finally get the respect we deserve around here. You know, just the other day a first year Hufflepuff blocked my path into the library and refused to move." She smirked and gave her shoulders a pretentious little shake. "Well, of course, I showed her the error of her ways. I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will have a wonderful time trying to cure her blemishes." Anderson snorted and Pansy preened under his appreciation. "A close family secret, that curse."

"It is good to know that you're willing to do what it takes to get what you want," Cartwright said with an approving nod. Draco almost laughed; they really didn't know what they'd gotten themselves into, involving Pansy.

"So you'll have no problems doing a simple task for us then?" Anderson queried.

Parkinson merely shrugged and waited for him to continue.

Anderson sat back and considered them both, his eyes lingering on Draco as if he expected him to get up and run at any moment. "Well this would be a joint effort. We find that people work better in pairs. Holds them accountable for their actions." Draco didn't like the sound of that. He wanted as little to do with Pansy as possible. "We would like for you two to steal a book from the Restricted Section. Gormalaith Gaunt: A Biography." He smirked as if he'd said something clever.

Pansy gave a tinkling laugh. "That's all?" She gestured between Draco and herself, her Slytherin green nails glinting in the scant candle light. "You've got two of the best sitting in front of you and you want us to check out a book at the Library?"

"Not just any book," Cartwright sounded offended by Pansy's tone. "But we'll get more into that after you've acquired the book. Sure, it may seem simple now, but I'm sure you two well know how hard it is to get one over on Madam Pince." He looked at Draco. "You, in particular, are in bad favour with her. If you can manage this it will be a great boon to our cause."

I bet, Draco thought sourly. Draco knew that book, it was the same one Hermione had managed to get her hands on. But where she chose to put its knowledge to good use, Anderson and Cartwright had more nefarious intentions. He suddenly had a feeling that their plan would be a lot more complicated than he'd previously thought. And to add fire to the match, he would be paired with Pansy, who knew him well enough to know when he was dissembling. He would just have to go with the plan until he figured out something better.

"Fine, steal a book from the library," he said after a beat. "Should be easy enough." He turned a smile on Pansy, who sat up at his attention. "What do you say, Pans? For old time's sake?"

Her face fell at the old nickname. "Don't call me that, Draco; it's so juvenile." She heaved a sigh, tilting her head so that she could peek at him from under her dark lashes. "But…yes, I think we can manage it."

"Great," said Cartwright, with a smile Draco knew was supposed to look more menacing than it did. "Once you've managed to do that we'll meet again, and we'll fill you lot in on the more minute details." He stood, and Anderson followed suit. "Meeting adjourned."

Pansy hung back with Draco, allowing the other two Slytherin's to walk ahead of them. She stopped him on the staircase, stepping in front of him and placing a hand on his chest. "Draco, I've been meaning to talk to you."

Draco only barely suppressed a sigh. He smiled down at her and took a covert step back to put distance between them. Her hand fell away, though she showed no signs of being put off. "What is it, Pans?" he said just to annoy her.

She blinked up at him but made no protest to the pet name. "I feel like we're growing apart this year. Was it something I did?" And really, Draco could almost believe she was truly perturbed. She was frowning up at him, her face open and inquisitive. She crossed her arms in front of her, her hands grasping at her arms, making her body appear smaller, vulnerable.

"I've just been very busy this year. I'd like a career upon graduating, and with my father on house arrest and the Ministry keeping tabs, the Malfoy future does not look bright."

Pansy turned away to gaze out of a small window in the stone wall. The moon fell on her face, softening her features. No doubt that was the intention. "Spending a lot of time with those Gryffindors, I've noticed." She turned her head so that half of it was cast in shadow. Draco could only see one black eye looking up at him, sparkling in the moonlight. "Especially that Granger girl. One might think you fancy her. Half of Hogwarts seems to think so." She laughed unkindly. "That or you have some secret plot to kill her."

Draco joined her by the window, leaning a shoulder against the cold stones. "I find that I care less and less what Hogwarts thinks about me these days," he said truthfully, evasively.

"Ah, but I know you," Pansy turned to him, and Draco saw that she had him exactly where she wanted him. "You're playing at being such a good boy, but you'll never fool me." She reached up and pushed a loose strand of hair from his forehead, cold fingertips lingering on his cheek. "I know what darkness lies beneath the light cast off by the shining glow of the Golden Trio you've been standing in."

Draco turned his face away from her touch, but Pansy was persistent. She let her hand fall to his shoulder, slide down his chest and rest over his heart. "Granger is using you, Draco. Do you think she really sees you for who you are? I can tell you, you're just another cause to her. Something she can add to her list of things she's saved. And maybe you want to be saved, but as I said, I know what's in here." She patted his chest. "I know you."

Draco stepped away from her, stung by her words, stung by the fact that he'd never even considered such a thing. Was he just a thing that needed fixing to Hermione? Did she allow him to bumble through these romantic overtures just to be able to say one day that she had been the one to redeem him, all the while waiting for the perfect moment to let him down gently? He schooled his features into a careless smile as he turned back to Pansy. "You knew me, the old me," he said firmly, and watched her eyes narrow. "And so what if Granger is using me? All the better to have her and her lot on my side if things should go pear shaped with Anderson's plans."

Pansy smirked at him as if she didn't believe a word of it. "So you say. Just be careful, Draco darling. As much as I hate to admit it, she did have a hand in defeating the Dark Lord, and that can't count for nothing." She walked over and gave Draco a peck on each cheek before he could make a move to avoid it. "I'll owl you later about our mission. Good night." She made her way down the curving staircase, unhurried, and was soon out of sight.

Draco waited until he could no longer hear her footsteps before he sighed and leaned heavily against the curving wall, his hand running through his hair for what felt like the millionth time that night.

"Draco."

With a start, Draco looked about for the source of his name, and thought himself actually going bonkers before he saw a familiar floating head of bushy hair reveal itself to him. "Hermione!" He looked around as if expecting more people to appear from thin air. "What are you doing here?"

Hermione looked almost as surprised as he did, but for different reasons. "I followed you, of course! You didn't think I would allow you to go alone, did you? Of course, I had to nearly fight Harry and Ginny on the matter, but eventually they saw sense. I just couldn't allow them to get involved with this, you know, since—"

Draco held up a hand when he realized she was rambling and probably wouldn't stop if he didn't stop her. "You followed me? Why? I told you I had this completely in hand." He was touched by the gesture, but in light of what Pansy had said Draco felt a bit defensive about Hermione's presence there. Not to mention this meant that she had heard everything, seen everything.

"Men," Hermione said with an irritated sigh. "You always think you have to do things on your own." She pulled off the rest of the Cloak of Invisibility she had used to conceal herself, draping it over her arm. "Despite what Parkinson thinks, I actually care about what happens to you."

Draco was taken aback by the blatant declaration. He stood there open-mouthed for a beat longer than was his usual before his mouth closed with an audible click. "I'm—thank you." He felt a heat suffuse his neck and face that he wished he could make disappear. Hermione had gone so far as to put herself in potential danger to make sure Draco was safe. Or, more like, to make sure you don't die before she can show you off, a suspicious part of his brain supplied unhelpfully. "You didn't have to do that."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him. "That's what friends do," she said simply.

Draco chuckled. "Aren't I lucky to have you."

She ducked her head and adjusted the cloak on her arm. "So, what happened in the meeting?"

Draco sighed and shook his head, "Not much, they want me to get a book." He looked at her pointedly. "Guess which one."

Ever quick, Hermione caught on. "No." Her eyebrows rose again. "Not Gormalaith?"

"Gormalaith exactly," Draco affirmed. "And to make matters worse, I must complete the task of stealing the book in tandem with Pansy." Draco watched as Hermione began to pace, amused by the physical manifestation of her working mind.

"We can't just give it to them," she began, as she traversed the same three steps over and over. "But how do we delay them without you being suspicious? Parkinson…" She trailed off, a troubled look on her face. "Well, you two were close weren't you?"

The word 'close' sounded forced and uncomfortable coming from her, and Draco filed it away for later perusal. "Yes," he said simply. "So it won't be easy to fool her. She knows all of my tricks, sadly."

Hermione stared at him, looking for all the world as if she wasn't really seeing him for a moment, before finally coming back to reality. "I think our best option is to put it off until we can think of something better."

"My thoughts exactly," Draco agreed readily, pleased that their minds were on the same wavelength. "Pansy still finds me agreeable, or at least she wants me to think as much, but she is very suspicious as well. She thinks I've defected, for lack of a better word, and I believe it is safe to say that Anderson and Cartwright think the same. This task is really to prove myself but I'll have to figure out a way to stretch this out in a manner that doesn't make them mistrust me." Draco smiled suddenly and snapped his fingers. "The Quidditch match," he said into the high pitched squeal of the wind running against the castle. "That should buy us some time at least. It's only a few days, but perhaps by then we can come up with a better plan."

"Perhaps," Hermione said slowly, thinking. "You could fake an injury, but that could be a risky gambit."

Draco feigned hurt. "You don't believe me capable of pulling it off? According to Pansy I'm playing really well at being—" He broke off before he said 'in love with you'. He didn't want to put any idea in her head that his actions, his feelings, were anything to doubt when it came to the fledgling spark growing between them. "—a reformed Slytherin," he finished instead, with a self-deprecating laugh.

Hermione waved a hand, not falling for the act. "She also said a lot of other rubbish that no one would ever believe," she said offhandedly. She laughed, and it sounded forced to Draco's ears.

Draco's eyes shot to Hermione's and he saw a question there, unspoken, but there. His heart, so keen to his emotions these days, sped up in his chest. He looked away unable to maintain eye contact for fear that she would see everything written in his eyes. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Pansy usually knows what she's talking about." He shrugged, and took a step down the staircase. "And other times, she's completely wrong," he continued obscurely, thinking of Pansy's comment about his supposed plot to off Hermione. He sent a covert look Hermione's way and saw that she was giving him a wary look. "Anyway," he said, turning away, "the Quidditch Match will give us some time to figure out a plan. In the meantime we should probably get back to our dorms, don't you think?" He took another step down and reached out for her hand to tuck under his arm.

xXx

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