Hey everybody, it's time for another chapter. Before we begin, I do have some sobering news to share.

Many who have been keeping up with my writing, as well as others familiar with the Flowerpot presence on this site, should be aware of a collection of stories called the Emily Collection. In essence, some of the writers on the Flowerpot server were inspired to write fluffy fanfiction in honor of a young woman with bone cancer named Emily, and it is in fact for this reason that I began writing in the first place.

I am ashamed to announce that Emily does not exist. There was a person on our server that wished for a little extra attention for himself and fabricated the entire story. He had said that he worked in a hospital with Emily, but his suspicious behavior led to an internal investigation that found that this person was not who he said he was.

As you can imagine, our community was extremely disappointed and very angry at this deception, but what is important here is that you guys who have been loyally following this collection knows the truth. I'm sorry that I was a part of this deception. It brought me genuine joy to think that I was writing something for a good cause, and the fact that it was all fake was not the easiest news for me to hear.

Regardless, I am happy for the joy that my writing has brought you, and the community I'm a part of is very proud of the work that we have put forth, even if the cause ended up being fraudulent. In order to keep the spirit of this collection alive, we have decided to rename it the Hope Collection. We are dedicating it to the people in the fanfiction community who have struggled with the effects of COVID-19 and cancer in the hopes that there are people like Emily out there who exist and that our work brings them joy as well. Emily may not exist, but there are thousands in her position, and some of them may even like Harry Potter fanfiction. And we celebrate them even if we do not know their names.

Thank you for sticking with me thus far, if you have any questions about the Hope Collection, my dms are always open.

Chapter 3: Repression

"Harry! Wake up!"

He was being slapped and shaken, and he could feel the hard cobblestones beneath him digging into his back. He gasped and his eyes shot open just as ice cold water blasted into his face.

Coughing and sputtering, he glared at the offending person responsible for the rude awakening and the first thing he noticed was shockingly pink hair.

"Tonks?"

"Wotcher, Harry. You alright there? You looked like you were being trampled by a giant while you were unconscious."

His situation was racing back to him. Dementors had attacked, Jim was dead, and he was lying next to a garbage bin in an alley. Nothing else had changed except for the fact that he was aware of his very existence being but a pawn in the Dark Lord's power-starved game. Joy.

He pushed those feelings down, he had to move. "I'm fine, Tonks. You don't sound like a toddler on a sugar hangover anymore."

She snorted and offered a hand up, "I remembered my potion supply, I'm right as rain now. Thank you, by the way."

"No worries. How long was I out?"

"Ten minutes, fifteen tops." Her expression sobered, "I moved Jim."

Harry closed his eyes as he fought the coming tears. But he could deal with that later. He could deal with everything later. He just had to get through the next few hours.

He swallowed the lump in his throat with difficulty and opened his eyes once more. Tonks was looking at him in a mixture of concern and anxiety.

"I'm sorry, Harry. It all happened so fast, I should have been able to stop-"

He wearily spurred his brain to engage normally, "It doesn't matter, Tonks. We barely know each other, but I guess you were guarding me this summer?" It seemed like such an inconsequential detail now.

Tonks nodded, "I'm part of a group that Dumbledore has brought together now that You-Know-Who is back. A few of us have been keeping an eye on you to make sure that you weren't in any danger. Fat lot of good that's done, eh?" They had begun making their way on the road back to Privet Drive.

"Would have been nice to know, I've been feeling creeped out all summer." He gestured to the square where the dementors had attacked as they passed, "What now? Do I just go back home and pretend this didn't happen?"

Tonks rubbed the back of her head sheepishly, "Well, there is a problem." She pulled a couple of letters out of the back pocket of her jeans. For the first time Harry appreciated the fact that Tonks could actually dress like a muggle convincingly; most witches and wizards couldn't tell a saucepan from a bicycle helmet.

"A Ministry owl delivered these while you were, err, asleep. I haven't read them but seeing as you are persona non grata over there these days, I can guess what they say."

Harry groaned and tore through the first of the letters. He rubbed his eyes with irritation. "Apparently I'm expelled from Hogwarts."

Tonks snorted again, "Even now the Ministry doesn't have a snowball's chance in hell of making that stick. I'm guessing that second letter would be your court date, then."

Tonks was right. "We regret to inform you that your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9 a.m. on August 12th. What a crock of shite that is, last thing I need on my plate right now." Voldemort's mocking red eyes flashed through his mind and he viciously clamped down on that thought before it was allowed to fully materialize.

Tonks, oblivious to his inner conflict, bumped him on the shoulder with her fist, "Chin up there, Potter. Only fifteen years old and already getting into trouble with the government, you know witches love a bad boy, right?"

"Yeah, because that's what's definitely topping the list of my priorities right now."

"It should be. If I were you I'd be absolutely rolling in witches, being a celebrity has to come with some privileges, right?"

"You can turn into me, right? Why don't you give it a shot and tell me how it works out?" The lightheartedness of their banter was jarring after verbally sparring with the Dark Lord, but it was a welcome distraction.

She fixed him with an odd look, "I think that's the first time someone with a willy between their legs has asked me to transform without it being for themselves. Unless we're talking like a Narcissus situation, and I'm telling you right now, I am not down for that." She turned green, literally.

Harry couldn't help but chuckle, "Trust me, I'm the last person to be in love with myself lately. Doesn't mean I'm not selfish though, maybe I just want to watch you work the ladies and see how it's done."

"So, it is the ladies then? You're not inclined towards, ahem, the sex that is not quite so fair? That would explain why you're not obsessed with girls like most teenage boys anyway." She had lost her green tinge and looked to him with interest.

Harry rubbed his eyes, "No, Tonks, I'm not gay, I just have a few other things on my mind, that's all." I must not think of Him, I must not think of Him.

Luckily, Tonks provided a distraction, "Yes! Take that Mundungus! Tonksie is getting five galleons richer!"

Harry's mental exhaustion had him wondering if he was hallucinating. "You had bet on whether I was a poofter or not? The teenage boy that you've been following for a month? Do you realize how creepy that is?"

Tonks winced, "Well, when you put it that way… In our defense, it really was a boring job. You do the same bloody thing every day; you should have snuck to a club in London, that really would have spiced things up."

"Nearly getting killed by dementors notwithstanding, I'm sorry that my existence has been a chore for you, Tonks."

She gave him a cheeky grin, "Oi, that's alright, Harry, no harm done, right? Besides, those friends of yours would kill me themselves if I let anything happen to you." Her hair grew to a familiar bushy brown mess. "Speaking of girls to woo, wink wink, nudge nudge."

Harry turned red, but then he stopped in his tracks. Number Four was in sight now, just a couple of blocks away, but something had occurred to him. "How do you know Hermione?"

Tonks froze, her hair shooting back into her head as she stuttered, "Err, I remember you at school, you were first years during my NEWT exams-"

"You're lying, Tonks."

Tonks groaned, "Bollocks. That's what I get for trying to make you feel better. I'm really not good at this undercover stuff, you know, that's what my superiors in the Auror office say anyway. There was this one time, well first of all there's this bint I work for named Helena, you would not believe the shite that she says-"

"For the love of Christ, Tonks, I get it, you're not going to tell me."

Tonks stopped her babbling and gazed at him with soft eyes, "I really wish I could, you know. Dumbledore's orders."

Harry couldn't help but feel slightly betrayed by his mentor figure. Hadn't he proved that he had grown up enough to at least know what was going on in his own life? He hadn't been in contact with the old wizard all summer, and now Dumbledore was dictating what information should be allowed to be passed along? He fumed for a moment but shoved those emotions aside as well. It was getting harder by the moment.

Harry resumed his brisk pace and Tonks stayed by his side. "I get it, Tonks, it's not up to you. I do need to talk to 'Old Man White Beard' myself soon though."

"Oi, don't you dare tell him I called him that! I wasn't in my right mind I tell you!" She was obviously embarrassed and would not quite meet his eyes.

"Yeah, I thinky think that was pretty obvious."

"Shut up, Potter!"

They were approaching the front yard of Number Four, and Harry sat down on the front steps. Tonks joined him a moment later. Harry felt so tired. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so exhausted, but his mind could not rest.

"God I want a cigarette."

"Like one of these?" Tonks pulled a familiar green pack out of her pocket. "They were, err, right by the old man... Jim."

Harry regarded her for a moment and tears came unbidden to his eyes. This time he couldn't keep them down and next thing he knew his face was buried into 'Tonks's shoulder as he wept. He had not cried in the longest time, not while he was conscious anyway. It was embarrassing, he felt exposed, but there was no stopping the waterworks now that they had started. He cried for the stubborn old man who had been so kind, for another friend that he could not save.

Tonks held him and rubbed his back awkwardly for what seemed like ages, murmuring clumsy condolences every once in a while. "Err, let it all out, Harry. It's manly to cry."

Harry could not help but smile through his tears, "You're awful at this, Tonks." He felt a little better anyway, as though a bit of his burden had drained out of him.

"Oi, you're just lucky it's me here and not Mundungus, he would have just run away at the first sight of trouble. If he had shown up for his shift in the first place, that is. Plus, if you cried into his shoulder you'd probably get mud all over your face he's so dirty."

Harry chuckled, pulling away from Tonks and wiping his face. "Same bloke you had that bet with, right?"

Tonks nodded, and Harry was strangely satisfied to see that her own eyes were far from dry as well.

"What an endorsement, can't wait to meet the guy." She laughed, and with that innocently charming sound his misery receded to the back of his mind for the time being. He gestured to the pack of cigarettes on the porch next to them, "Can I have one of those, by the way?"

"As long as you don't tell anyone that I let you have one." She gave him a conspiratorial smile, "And if you don't mind if I join."

Harry nodded gratefully and Tonks pulled two cigarettes from the pack. With a flick of a match, they were both lit and aromatic clouds curled as they rose into the night air.

"To Jim."

"To Jim."

Harry breathed deeply, enjoying the familiar tingle at the base of his neck. "Why didn't you use your wand to light them?"

"Two reasons. I still don't know if any more magic will interfere with the trace on your wand, I don't want to get you into any more trouble. Also," a wry smile made its way onto her face, "Matches just taste better."

Harry nodded balefully, "Jim said the same thing. He hated those plastic lighters."

"He was a good friend to you, huh?"

Harry sucked in a breath, "He sure was. I think he may be the reason I've stayed sane so far this summer. No one else has really been talking to me." He didn't miss how Tonks again avoided his gaze as he spoke.

"I really am sorry, Harry. I promise you there's a reason for everything that's happened."

"Whatever you say, Tonks. In any case, thanks for being here for me tonight. It means a lot."

"Hey, you saved my life tonight, I thought I was a goner when that dementor had me by the throat. I know what people mean when they say their life flashed before their eyes now."

A piercing crack interrupted their musings and both flinched and drew their wands at the disturbance.

A hoarse voice broke the intensity "Not fast enough! If I were a threat you would have been blown to bits just now!" Mad-Eye Moody limped into view, staff in hand and his electric-blue namesake spinning around, constantly searching their perimeter.

"Nymphadora, you're supposed to be guarding the boy, not cuddling up to him! And are you smoking those disgusting muggle cigarettes? Christ almighty."

Tonks stiffened, embarrassed. "For the last time Alastor, don't call me by that name! And-"

Moody brought with him the air of a neurotic soldier who had fought in far too many wars, and it was clear that his impatience was born of experiencing the failure of inaction on far too many occasions. He was not a soothing presence by any stretch of the imagination, but Harry felt an immediate empathy with the man.

"No time for arguments lassie, Dumbledore caught wind of the absolute clusterfuck that happened under your watch and I'm bringing both of you to headquarters." He leveled his gaze at Harry and with a thump of his staff the cigarette was blown out of Harry's hand. "CONSTANT VIGILANCE! What if that was aimed for your heart, boy?"

Harry grimaced at the man's intensity, "I would be dead, Professor."

"BLOWN TO BITS! I was never your professor and we've never met; how do you know that I mean you no harm? What if I were a death eater in disguise, not exactly outside the realm of possibility is it?"

Harry got to his feet, not particularly intimidated by the exuberant former-auror's presence. "Tonks seemed to think you were alright, you haven't made to capture us yet, and you gave up your position even though you got the drop on us. If you were a death eater, you'd be an incompetent one. Though, that's not outside the realm of possibility either."

Moody glared down at him for a moment before barking out in laughter, "Good read, lad, there may be hope for you yet. Alastor Moody, the real one this time, at your service." He turned to Tonks, "Albus told me there were dementors involved and that the boy had to defend himself. Explain."

Tonks withered under the man's intense gaze, "I was following Harry when a dementor attacked from one of the alleys. I thought there was only one, and the second surprised me from behind, sir. Harry had to save me, if not for him, I'd be a husk."

Moody bit out a response, "Stupid, Nymphadora. Dementors are pack predators, when have you ever heard of one traveling alone? You're goddamn lucky that there were only the two of them, and now because of your incompetence the boy has been compromised. Witnesses? Casualties?"

"One muggle neighbor was caught in the crossfire, one of Harry's friends. He was the only one."

Moody's magical eye flickered to Harry for a moment before locking back on to Tonks. "And Finch? Where is the old crone?"

Harry's eyes widened, "Mrs. Finch? What does she have to do with anything?"

Tonks whispered to him, "She's a squib, was supposed to be the primary eyes on you this summer for us." She continued louder for Moody to hear, "She broke her ankle yesterday and has been in the hospital, that's why I pulled a double today."

"Rotten fucking luck, as always. Alright, Potter. You have five minutes to gather your things, you won't be returning here this summer so don't forget anything." He pounded his staff once more and the front door opened, his meaning clear.

Harry gave one last look at Tonks and they shared a quiet smile before he walked into the house. He could still hear the grizzled wizard laying into the pink haired girl and he felt a tinge of sympathy. He raced up the stairs two at a time and had his supplies packed in minutes. He really didn't have much anyway and his trunk with his school supplies had mostly been untouched all summer.

He let Hedwig out the window, trusting that the intelligent owl would find her way back to him. He was struck with his previous desire to write Fleur Delacour a letter, but that seemed so long ago now. Brushing the thought, he turned to contemplate the pile that sat haphazardly on his bed.

"Here, let me give you a hand." Harry turned and Tonks stood in the doorway, eyes downcast and solemn at the lambasting she had received.

Harry invited her in with a wave of his hand, "That Mad-Eye is something else, huh?"

"Yeah, but he was right. I almost got us both killed tonight." Her hair had turned dark and limp and she retained none of her earlier playfulness. With a wave of her wand Harry's luggage had turned feather light.

Harry grabbed his trunk and nodded appreciatively, "Thank you, Tonks." She merely nodded and turned away, but he reached out and grabbed her arm, "And I owe you my life too, remember? You saved me first."

Tonks smiled humorlessly, not meeting his eyes "I'm the adult here, Harry, it was my job to protect you."

"Don't worry, out of the ridiculous number of adults that have failed to protect me, you've been the coolest about it," Harry's condolences seemed corny even to himself, but Tonks smiled at him, more genuinely this time.

Mad-Eye's voice echoed throughout the silent house, "You two have ten seconds to get down here before I have to drag my old, crippled arse up those stairs! And I promise that none of us want that."

"BOY! WHAT UNNATURALNESS HAVE YOU BROUGHT INTO MY HOUSE?" Vernon Dursley had awoken now, Harry and Tonks needed no further motivation. Within moments they were back on the front lawn with Harry's things in tow.

"YOU'D BETTER NOT HAVE THE NERVE TO COME BACK AFTER YOU'VE PULLED THIS SHI-" Vernon's tirade was cut short as Mad-Eye used his staff to slam the front door shut and silence the house itself.

"Charming family you've got there, Potter." Sarcasm oozed from Moody's gruff voice in a way that shouldn't have been possible.

Harry cracked a grin, "You caught them on an off day. Vernon didn't have his shotgun this time."

Moody spat on the manicured lawn, "Lucky for him. Damn muggles and their explosives."

Tonks raised an eyebrow, "That's pretty rich coming from you, Mad-Eye. What about that incident in seventy-seven?"

"Bastards took away my mobility when they blew off my leg, I had to improvise." Moody's good eye gazed unseeing into the distance, but his magical implant continued to buzz at it scanned, ever vigilant.

Harry jumped as Moody jerked back into motion, "Enough gossip, we have a mission to accomplish." He pulled a broom out of his overcoat and met Harry's astonished gaze, "Expansion charms. Remind me to teach you, right useful, they are."

Harry grabbed his own Firebolt from his pile of belongings, "We're flying then?" He was elated at this revelation, his stress always seemed to melt away when he was in the air.

Tonks nodded, "We've been told you're a great flyer, so just stay close and we'll be there in a couple of hours." As she spoke she began securing Harry's luggage to his broom with her wand.

As she worked, Harry approached Moody, "Sir, I was wondering if Dumbledore would be where we're going. I really need to talk to him." Again, he noticed Tonks freeze suspiciously in his peripheral vision.

Moody merely grunted, "Albus is a busy man these days, he has a war to fight. I wouldn't count on it."

Harry's frustration was mounting. With Voldemort's revelation weighing heavy on his mind, there was no one else he could trust to talk to, no one that would have the slightest understanding of what to do.

"Professor Moody, please-"

"Enough, lad, you'll talk to him eventually. For now, we have to get you there in one piece. Let's go."

Harry breathed in deeply, ignoring once more the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. But he had spent ten years of his life locked in a broom closet, ignoring his fear and pain and focusing on survival. What was another few days?

Still, Voldemort's voice echoed in his head, "You contain a sliver of my soul, and while you live, you ensure my immortality. You ensure my victory, Harry Potter!" Harry grimaced, drawing a concerned look from Tonks, but he put her at ease with an embarrassed smile.

"Are you ready, lad?" Moody had mounted his broom and looked back at him expectantly.

"Yes sir, let's go." Tonks nodded as well and took up her position behind Harry, serving as a rear guard of sorts.

He mounted his broom and took off, following Moody's hunched form as they rose above the streetlights, and the night enveloped them. He would find a way to remove this blight on his life… And even if it killed him, perhaps it would be for the best

Ron. Hermione.

But he would be damned sure to do all that he could to live, if only for his friends.

XXX

The flight from Surrey had been without incident. Harry had been comforted by how the countryside had morphed and changed throughout their journey, until finally, tired towns and empty roads had given way to the bright lights and bustling energy of the London nightscape.

The buildings of downtown London had loomed in the distance for over half an hour while they flew, growing more distinct and massive until they were among them; it was a feeling akin to approaching and entering Hogwarts for the first time, and the city had an energy, a magic all its own. With a pang Harry had realized that this was the first time he had been in any major city at night and he cursed his life of forced shelter.

He wished now that he could escape into the many alleys and streets, leave his former life behind to explore the infinite nooks and crannies the metropolis had to offer. Instead, he faced the wave of emotion that threatened to engulf him when the door to Grimmauld Place had opened and he was confronted by the sight of his two best friends.

Tonks and Moody had left them alone immediately to join the meeting that was apparently taking place in the kitchen, and Harry stood on the precipice of control as he regarded Ron and Hermione.

"You're here. You've been here this whole time." His voice was trembling, he fought to keep the tears from forming. He just wanted to go to bed, he couldn't deal with this.

Ron rushed to him immediately, embracing his best friend in a tight hug. "Harry, mate, it's good to see you. Everyone is here, even Sirius and Professor Lupin!"

Harry stood still as a statue and he wondered if the redhead even noticed that he had not returned the embrace. He looked over Ron's shoulder and locked eyes with Hermione.

She stood silently but not unmoving as she bit at her lip, fiddled with her hair, and wrung her hands- the very personification of nervousness. She met Harry's hard gaze with a watery vulnerability that did not belong on her normally confident features. He broke eye contact, unable to continue wading through those murky brown depths.

She finally spoke, her own voice shaking with emotion, "Harry… Ron… Maybe we should give Harry some space."

That was the wrong thing to say, and suddenly he didn't care that Hermione was vulnerable, that she cared about him. He had expected obliviousness from Ron, but he knew that Hermione had to understand exactly what their distance had done to him.

His fury erupted not with fire, but with ice; it was as if the only way to hold himself together was to freeze his emotions in place, and even as he spoke he could not help but recognize something familiar in his own frigid demeanor.

"Yes, Hermione. I believe I need some more space. That seems to be the answer these days, does it not?" Hermione flinched as if she had been struck and he felt Ron shiver before the redhead slowly released him and took a step back in confusion.

"Harry, mate…"

Harry regarded him with a cold mask on his face, I can't do this right now. "I need to know where Dumbledore is. Now."

"I-I think he's in the meeting right now, mate. Fred and George have been trying to figure out how to listen in on them, you should see what they're working on right now, it's bloody brilliant." Ron hid his nervousness behind a weak chuckle.

Hermione had recovered somewhat and took a step forward, "Harry, we- I'm sorry. We left you alone and I'm sorry. Please don't be angry."

Harry met her eyes once more and the ice cracked, "Hermione… I-" Really don't want to go into it.

Ron's eyes widened, the reason for Harry's attitude finally piercing his naturally thick skull, "Mate, is that why you're acting like this? Blimey, I'm sorry too."

Please.

Hermione continued, "We wanted to tell you everything, but Dumbledore told us it was a security risk. Even though the property is protected by the Fidelius charm, if the Death Eaters noticed a bunch of owls flocking around a particular area of the city-"

At the mention of Dumbledore's name, the ice hardened once more. Harry had had enough. "Both of you... Shut up. "

Hermione and Ron froze and their faces whitened.

"H-harry?"

The ice in his veins was growing ever colder and it swallowed his very thoughts, his very voice. "I understand that was what the headmaster wished. You were merely following his orders." This isn't me. "No matter, your best friend could handle himself, right? Nothing could possibly be bothering him?"

How dare he? How fucking dare he?

"Please, mate, we didn't know!"

"Harry, you're scaring us! Please!"

"SILENCE!" This isn't me.

If Harry had been paying attention he would have noticed the emerald and scarlet sparks of magic flickering in and out of existence around him, or how his friends' breaths came out in fearful, misty bursts as the room plummeted in temperature. But he was not paying attention, he was consumed by wintry fury at how, yet again, Dumbledore had meddled in his life without a care for Harry's wellbeing.

The many silver heirlooms and ornate trinkets in the sitting room trembled and shook before flying out of position, swept by the growing winds of Harry's magic. Anything fragile was blown against the walls and shattered, Hermione and Ron were spurred into action as they were forced to shield against heavy silver goblets and serving trays.

I'm sorry.

Hermione's voice rang out, "Harry! Stop! Somebody, please help! We need help!"

A set of curtains blew open and a screaming voice added to the cacophony, "HOW DARE YOU, BLOOD TRAITOR! THESE TREASURES HAVE BEEN PASSED DOWN THE BLACK FAMILY LINE FOR GENERATIONS AND YOU HAVE SULLIED THEM WITH YOUR DISG-"

"HARRY!" The door to the kitchen burst open, only to be slammed shut again by another wave of Harry's magic. A moment later, a desperate Sirius Black roared as he pushed open the door again, struggling against the gale-force winds. "HARRY, CALM DOWN! I'M COMING!"

Despite the chaos, Harry still took no notice, his frazzled brain had finally given out; he had repressed too much, had experienced too much in too short a time, and his magic wrought what his mind could not. His body had become a conduit for the raw magical energy that yearned to express itself, and Harry's consciousness had slipped away.

XXX

Sirius had freed himself from the doorway to the kitchen and forced one foot forward at a time, making his way to his godson. The shouts of the other Order members behind him were a distant nuisance; all that mattered to him at the moment was making sure Harry was safe.

"HARRY, CAN YOU HEAR ME?"

No response. The teenager's magic was both a lightning storm that struck out at everything in its path and an icy quicksand that filled the room with dread, and in the back of his mind Sirius made a connection that he would rather not acknowledge.

Harry isn't with us at the moment… And maybe Dumbledore is right.

Steeling himself for what he must do, Sirius leveled his wand at Harry, his only godson, the last connection to the joys of his youth. Tears leapt to his eyes as he regarded the boy. Harry's empty green eyes stared back at him, a far cry from his mother's that had brimmed with life. The boy's face was twisted in a grimace, no trace of his father whom Sirius had loved so much.

It's for the best. I'm sorry Harry.

A burst of light flew from his wand and Harry dropped to the floor without a sound. Only then did Sirius's tears fall, and with them he sank to his knees on the floor, the Black family entrance hall in a state of ruin along with the only family Sirius had left.

XXX

This concludes the prologue ark of the story- basically everything you've read so far is setting the stage for the main action of the fic. As I've noted on my author's page, I plan to explore the effects of PTSD and fear on a person's psyche and decision making. Harry, his friends, Sirius, and even Dumbledore face very overwhelming odds in this story, and each handles the stresses of their situations differently. Hopefully as the story unfolds you guys will be able to see where I'm going with these themes.

That being said, the next few chapters will be a lot lighter in tone as we build the stage for the action to come. Once again I'd like to thank x102reddragon for being my amazing beta, and Foreal26 for being the other proud parent of this brainchild. I'll see you next week on Saturday, June 5th with the fourth chapter of A Cure for Apathy.