"Harry? Harry, wake up." A sweet voice drew him forth from his slumber. He was sweating, and cold. He was aware that his dream was probably not a pleasant one. A hand wrapped around his shoulder and shook him lightly. He turned to face the disturbance. Hermione was kneeling next to him, with bags under her eyes. He didn't know what he was doing, but he sat up and hugged her. He was afraid she would resist, but was happy to feel her arms find their way around his neck. Time slowed to a snails pace as he held her so close, he felt her heart beating. She buried her head in his neck, and he felt the warm moisture trickle out of her eyes, and onto his skin. He held her tighter, wishing all of her pain to go away. Especially the pain he had caused her.

                "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He whispered into her ear. Her tears continued down his neck, and he kissed her forehead. "What do you want? I'll do anything." Her arms were uncomfortably tight around his neck and he winced a little.

                "Anything?" She asked quietly, knowing exactly what she wanted. He rethought his statement, but resolved to go on with it. Knowing her, she wouldn't make him do anything terrible. Well, not too terrible.

                "Yes, anything in my power." She pulled back from the embrace and looked into his emerald depths. He caught her cinnamon eyes and held his breath for a second.

                "Kiss me?" She said. The words didn't process well, but when they did, Harry was a bit exasperated.

                "WHAT!?!?" He yelled, more out of shock than disgust.

                "Shhhh, you said anything, and I want you to kiss me." She begged.

                "What? I mean, why?" He knew he had to tread this lightly. Ron liked Hermione, plus Hermione was his best friend. One kiss could have drastic consequences.

                "I want to know what it feels like, to really be kissed…on the lips." He put his head in his hands.

                "How did I get pulled into this?" He grumbled sourly.

                "You said that…"

                "I know, I know. It was a rhetorical question. Bullocks, why me? Why not Ron? He would love to."

                "Ew, that would be like, like kissing my brother."

                "And with me???" She paused a moment.

                "It's more on friendly terms. C'mon Harry, just one little kiss. Please?" He sighed in defeat.

                "Fine, one kiss, if it makes you feel bet…What about Krum?"

                "Harry, I don't like him like that, and we are not dating. He is only a friend."

                "Are you visiting him this summer?"

                "No, my parents won't let me, thank god. Can we do this?"

                "Right, it's just, you have to admit it's rather weird." She gave him a soft glare. "Fine, how do we do this?"

                "Let's stand up." He complied and stood up next to her. She face him, and he faced her. He noticed that they were the same height, and it didn't help his mood.

                "Now what?"

                "I put my arms around your neck, you put your hands on my hips." As awkward as it was he did it slowly. He didn't want to hurt her, even if he was convinced this was not going to be enjoyable. "And we kiss…" She moved forwards towards him. They wet their lips simultaneously. He watched her pink lips approach his and felt drawn to them. He saw her close her eyes, and followed her lead. He didn't have to hate it, he could at least try to do this.

                Their mouths met, and she pulled him tighter against her. He felt his hands begging to wander around her body, but held back. He felt his lips desire to move against her, but held back. He wanted so badly to stay that way forever, but held back. He savored the kiss, but ended shortly after it began. He knew that blood was rushing to his face, but he completed the bargain, so he was free. He pulled away and opened his eyes, to see her with hers still closed. He licked his lips again, and watched her eyes flutter open. Her cheeks were noticeably red, even in the dimness of the room. He dropped his arms from her hips, but she kept her arms around his neck, and stared into his eyes, searching for something, anything to tell her his thoughts, emotions, anything relating to the kiss. He admitted to himself that he had enjoyed it. A lot. But now was not the time to be romancing your best friend whom your other best friend fancies.

                "Was that alright?" he inquired after realizing they had been staring at each other for the greater part of a minute.

                "Yes, that was…" she couldn't risk using any of the words she wanted to use, as it would make her too obvious. The kiss she could pass off as necessary in her troubled state, but liking the kiss to him would be clear as day. "…lovely." She kicked herself, mentally. She was supposed to be able to come up with something better than that. She was the smartest witch Hogwarts had seen in a long while, and the word that she spits out is 'lovely.' How she wished death would find her soon.

                "Good. I'm glad." He put lamely. "We should, you know go eat, because it's time for, what's it called, dinner. Yeah." He went into contemplation. 'Why am I this rattled? The kiss was fun, and arousing, but it wasn't THAT good. So, I kissed my best friend. It was awkward, and I wouldn't do it again given the chance. Case closed……Well, maybe…nahhhh.'

                "Um, yeah, dinner. We should go." She dropped her arms from his neck. Harry turned and exited the room, heading down to the dining room. Hermione watched him leave, and sighed happily. She had her kiss, and nothing could ruin her day.

                At dinner, a very uncomfortable silence hung over the table, and everyone carefully avoided everyone else's eyes. The Grangers wouldn't look at Harry, and vice versa, because of his attack, and Harry wouldn't look at Hermione and her parents, because of the kiss. Hermione used every ounce of self-control she had not to jump up and down, drunk off of her own happiness. Halfway through the meal, Rick look up and carefully examined the situation. His wife was avoiding Harry, probably scared, he was a little too. Harry was probably embarrassed, being gawked at for being…disabled in that way would be humiliating. But that their was the tension between Harry and Hermione that got to him. She had known and been there during Harry's attacks before. Surely they didn't unnerve her like this, and Harry shouldn't be this secluded from her. From the way she was crying on him before, they appeared to be close. Rick had a right mind to bet Hermione had feelings for Harry that weren't strictly friendly. After her first year and second year at that school she always came home rambling about Harry and Ron and Ron and Harry, but he noticed after third year it was much more Harry than Ron, and on her first day back this year he was questioning to ask whether this Ron character still existed, because she didn't even mention him. Maybe she confessed her feelings to him, but Harry wouldn't be that tense, he seems like an understanding boy. Maybe Hermione was embarrassed about crying on him, and he wanted to give her space. There were always possibilities. Rick always thought Ivy had a thing for Tom, who she always talked about, but it turned out they were only platonic. But Ivy had liked him, but that was ancient history now. He had to keep his head up in his daughter's personal life. He couldn't let her get hurt, but from what he had heard when she wrote home about the Jewel, Mule or Tool Ball, Yule Ball, that's it, Yule Ball. When she wrote home about the Yule ball, she wrote that she was angry that Ron and Harry (though more subtly) were concerned about her decision, and honestly, this eighteen year old Bulgarian oaf with his fourteen year old daughter was not something he liked either, so he had faith in Harry and Ron, and trusted them.

                The meal ended slowly, and Hermione and Harry went back to her room. They went over his potions essay, which she loved and claimed to envy (though he doubted it) and discussed all of the other homework, left uncompleted, but discussed possibilities none the less. They talked about everything, but the kiss they shared earlier, both embarrassed. Hermione for being obvious, Harry for doubting his strictly friendly motivations towards Hermione. At ten o'clock Harry left her room and retired in his own, dozing for an hour before the door creaked open, and he instinctively opened his eyes as large as possible. He needn't roll over to see the door, he only looked into the mirror. It was Rick. He glanced slowly around the room, his eyes lingering on Harry for a moment before murmuring a good night, and closing the door. Again, Harry relaxed into his dozing state, and the door creaked again. His reflexes snapped opened his eyes again and he watched Hermione step into his room and close the door. He noticed she was in her nightshirt, and she looked pretty. Just pretty. Only pretty. Not arousing, barely pretty. She walked up to the side of the bed behind him. He watched in the mirror, growing tense with anticipation. He just wanted to watch. To see what happened when people thought no one was looking. He kept his breath steady, as short breaths would be a give away.

                "Harry?" she breathed. The sound barely made it to his ears. He had to fight his urge to recognize her. He had to see how she reacted.

                "Harry?" She whispered with more volume, he stayed still, and she kneeled on the bed behind him. He closed his left eye to appear asleep from someone looking down, but kept his right eye open to watch. He was fascinated by her courage when he was playing dead. She leant over him and examined his sleeping face, hiding his open eye. "I love you" she breathed, softer than before, and she kissed his cheek, before sliding off the bed and walking from the room. He felt a shaking on his shoulder and light came on in the room.

                "Harry. Were you really asleep?" He shot up very confused. Hermione was fully dressed and shaking him vigorously.

                "Huh? What?" He was now confused and scared.

                "Did you ever go to sleep? Your eyes were open. I tried forever to wake you with light and moving things in front of your face. You were day dreaming at night. That or sleeping with your eyes open." She saw the horror on his face as he jolted awake. "Another nightmare?" she asked sympathetically.

                "I wish." He muttered to himself.

                "What was that?"

                "Yes, another nightmare." He said clearly. He quickly jumped out of bed in his plaid blue boxer shorts and took a folded towel from his dresser, as well as a complete set of clothes from his rucksack. He turned to her, standing sheepishly and red faced by is bed. "What?" He examined his body, shirtless, pant less, and only a large pair of boxers. "All the necessaries are covered, and you still turn into a tomato. It's like wearing a bathing suit, nothing special." He wasn't revealing anything, but it struck him that he probably should have checked anyway, before getting up so hastily. "I'm going for a shower, see you at breakfast."

                He left her staring at where he was, with the look one would give a god. A goofy grin crossed her face. Ivy entered the room, wanting to sneak a peak at the boy without the complication of clothes. She wore her usual sand-colored robe, with little on underneath.

                "Har…Honey, what are you doing?" Hermione snapped out of her daze, and turned very red again.

                "What?"

                "Why are you in here?"

                "I woke Harry, he went to take a shower. He had another nightmare." She finished sullenly.

                "Oh. Well sharpen up for breakfast. Don't be late." Ivy stalked from the room, while Hermione gaped at her. Hermione had seen her wear those clothes once before and that was on her parents anniversary, when Ivy and Rick were…

                "Ohmygod!" She said aloud. She sprinted out of the room and down to the kitchen, where Harry arrived fifteen minutes later. He greeted the Grangers enthusiastically, but noticed Hermione kept shooting glares at Ivy. He swallowed the last of his sausage, and leaned in closer to her.

                "What happened between you and your mother?" Hermione turned to him, and her glare softened considerably.

                "It doesn't matter now, it's over."

                "You don't seem to be letting it go."

                "I'm angry at her for what she tried to do, so I will be for a while. I'm sorry Harry."

                "Whatever for?"

                "Your whole visit. Your attack, the kiss, the nightmare, my mother…I'm sorry. The whole thing has gone bad."

                "No, no, no. I had a better time than I could have had at the Dursleys. This was a grand idea. It was a bit rough, but I'll never begrudge you that."

                "You go too soft on everyone."

                "Even the Amazing Flaming Flying Bouncing Ferret?" She snorted out her milk, gaining the attention of her parents.

                "What are you two whispering about?" Rick sent Harry a wink when Hermione pulled her eyes away from her parents.

                "Nothing." They said in perfect unison, sending Hermione into more giggles.

                The delightful breakfast finished too soon, and Harry and Hermione went back to her room (again) and spoke about Harry's new presence within Voldemort's tightest circle.  It got to the point where Hermione gave Harry a very old box of crayons and ordered him to draw a picture. So Harry sat for thirty minutes playing with crayons. He discovered he was actually quite good a sketching people, even if the were featureless and white as snow with red eyes. Hermione recoiled at the picture, and he burned it despite her desire to keep it. All too soon the clock struck twelve, and it was time for our hero to leave his temporary home, and return to the cruel hard world. He hugged Hermione for a long time (he took the initiative I tell ya) before he tramped down to the living room. Well, the one with all the foreign objects and such. He shook Rick's hand, and gave a very quick hug to Ivy, who wished him luck with his dreams and health. He tossed a pinch of powder into the flame, shouted "the Dursleys" and sped at impossible speeds before tumbling out of the fireplace at #4 Privet Drive. The first words he heard were Hysterical, like someone died.

                "I can't believe it! The only thing my mother ever gave to me, and his idiot friend broke it! My sweet cherry blossom serving dish. Gone. Look at it. LOOK AT IT!!!" Obviously someone broke Petunia's cherry blossom serving dish.

                "Calm down love. I'm sure Piers parents will get you one just like it." Harry walked into the doorway of the kitchen, to find Petunia, evil, rock hard Petunia, crying. Actually crying, over shattered dishes.

                "IT WON'T BE THE SAME!!! My MOTHER gave this to me and ONLY this!" Harry walked around them, careful to avoid the china sitting messily all over the kitchen floor. He knew one day he may regret this but he took out his wand. Vernon looked at him.

                "What do you want?" He snarled. Not in the mood, though, there was no 'boy' or 'trash' or 'freak' at the end of the sentence. A mild improvement. Harry ignored him and closely examined the pieces. A simple repairing charm should do it. He swished and flicked like a master, and stated 'Reparo' and all the pieces became one, whole, large, beautiful cherry blossom serving plate. Aunt Petunia gasped, prior too enveloping Harry into a hug to rival Hadgrid's. She laughed into his neck, and picked up the plate. Not only was it back in one piece, but the scratch that went across the plate the short way, as well as the chipped edge, were also fixed. The plate appeared brand new. Petunia actually skipped around the kitchen, to Harry's disgust and Vernon's growing amusement. She stopped in front of the cupboard and placed the dish back in, smiling at Harry like he just gave them the fortunes of several wealthy nations.

                "Thank you, Harry, bless you." He nodded and said as loudly as he dared 'your welcome.' Vernon grabbed him roughly by the arm and tugged him into the downstairs bathroom. 'Oh bullocks, here it comes.' But Vernon was speaking only in a whisper, and he wasn't spraying Harry with saliva. Maybe he'd better listen in.

                "If I got an old rusty broken car, could you make it work?" Harry's jaw hung open. This was not happening. His uncle, the most anti-magic person in the world, was asking him to use magic. Of course it was a selfish thing to do, but Harry could do it.

                "I could." Harry stated slowly, emphasizing the could.

                "Would you?" His eyes were smiling with giddiness.

                "On my terms." His face fell.

                "Right. Of course. And they are?"

                "One, The car can't be too old or too expensive, or else it will stand out too much and people will get suspicious. Two, I need the owners manual. Three, I need a book, step-by-step how to rebuild the engine and transmission. Four, I want a used 1994 Harley-Davidson Special FLSTN, to make up for all of my missed birthdays. Five, no guarantees on the reliability, I build the car, not the parts." Vernon weighed this for a few moments.

                "What condition does your motorcycle have to be in?"

                "Any will do, but if it's bad, I need the books as well; manuals, rebuild engine and transmission kits. The works."

                "I'll do it. It's a deal." Vernon sprinted from the bathroom and into the kitchen. He immediately took out a telephone book and started dialing numbers. Harry went up to his room and worked on homework. He finished Charms and Transfiguration, and was just starting Defense Against the Dark Arts when he heard his name called from downstairs. He put down his quill and made his way down. He remembered that he had forgotten lunch, but he wasn't hungry. Vernon was positively beaming at Harry when he entered.

                "Your motorcycle will be here at four o'clock, and a, wait, wait, wait. A 1964 Cadillac de Ville Convertible, one of those top line cars from the Yankees, will be arriving at ten tonight. I didn't want the neighbors to see it go into the garage, to come out perfect."

                "A car takes a lot longer than a dish. It may take weeks. Don't go too fast." Vernon's smile faded significantly. It almost made Harry feel bad. Almost.

                "I suppose I can wait awhile. You're sure you can do this?"

                "As long as I have the books…" Harry said as he walk out of the kitchen and up to his room. He continued on his Defense Against the Dark Arts homework. As he finished describing the ways to detect the Imperious Curse, the doorbell rang. Out of habit Harry ran down the stairs and opened the door. A strong and dirty man with oil covering his smock stood there with his arms crossed.

                "Where ye wan' da bike?" Vernon appeared next to Harry forcing a smile at the smelly mechanic.

                "The garage will be fine." Vernon said as pleasantly as possible, forcing another fake smile.

                "No, Uncle Vernon. I'll take it to my room. You need the garage for the car."

                "Oh yes, that's right. Take it up to his room."

                "No, Uncle Vernon, I'll take it up to my room, just bring it here." Harry pointed to the floor just inside the door. The man disappeared, and returned with another man as they carried a block of rusted metal with wheels. They dropped it lightly in the entrance way.

                "Ye shoor ye don' wan' us te bring it up te yer room?" said the second man.

                "Yeah, I can handle it." The man shot Harry an appraising look before shrugging and turning away, leaving only the first man at the door. Uncle Vernon pulled out his wallet.

                "How much for it?" Harry had lost interest in the proceedings and involved himself in examining the old broken down bike that he had to fix up. It was in terrible shape. It wasn't recognizable under the rust and scratches. The front wheel was bent sharply, suggesting a collision. He was amazed at the terrible condition for a one year old bike. Rust usually didn't spread that fast in such a short period of time.

                "Nothin'. Yer doin us a favor by taking this here bike. Moron was campin' and got it too close to de fire. Tried to cool it off wit water. Water on hot metal makes rust. Ruined a brand new bike. Don't know if its really worth tryin' te save. It's pretty bad."

                "I'll manage." Harry said with a wide smile. The man, not wanting to crush the boy's hopes. Left it at that. He return to the truck and drove away.

                "You can just magic it up to your room, Harry. Just don't get oil, and rust all over it please. Or clean it with your magic when your done. The car will be here in five hours, so you can play with this…bike until then." Harry? Please? What were these words coming out of his mouth. Had Vernon gone insane? Did he actually say the feared M word? Magic? 'I think someone smuggled a snowball into hell' Harry thought, while smiling, really smiling for the first time in a long time. Harry pulled out his wand and swished it at the block of iron oxide. 'Wingardium Leviosa.' It rose two feet off the ground and up the stairs. Vernon fidgeted, staring at the hundreds of pounds of metal flying over his stairs. Halfway up, the rear wheel fell off and tumbled back down, revealing a snapped chain. Harry sighed, but continued walking behind the hovering bike, setting it lightly in the center of his room. He turned to go back downstairs to retrieve the wheel, but Vernon was standing there, holding it out to him. Harry hesitantly took it, and thanked his uncle before entering his room. He studied the automobile closely. The rust had gone straight through in some places. He would really need to rebuild this, piece by piece. He went into his old cupboard, under the stairs, and borrowed his uncle's screwdrivers, a pliers, a vice grips, some oil and a hammer. He carried the heavy tools up to his room and started taking the bike apart. He organized the pieces by what part they came from, but noticed too many of the bolts were welded by rust, and the rust would need to be removed before he could take it apart. He continued anyway, using the oil to loosen the nuts, the vice grips to secure on them, and the hammer to break the seal and start them on their way out. After three hours he had managed to take apart the handlebars, remove the front wheel, and remove all the bolts attaching the engine to the frame, minus two that were too rusty. He vowed to get a book the next day to provide the necessary information.

                All too soon ten o'clock arrived and Harry was called away from his set of pieces, formerly known as a motorcycle. Harry ran downstairs and walked outside. The streetlamps cast a warm glow around the dark quiet neighborhood. Vernon's car was parked on the street, and the driveway was clear, leading to the open garage. Harry stood silently next to his uncle, and a comfortable bonding started. Both, alone in the night, together. After a few minutes the rumble of a truck was heard and it appeared turning the corner onto Privet Drive. Even with the peeling paint, rusty doors, and torn upholstery, Harry had to admit, it was a beautiful car. It was being towed and the man let it down in the middle of the street. He checked the address once more, and handed the keys to Uncle Vernon before saying goodbye and leaving.

                "Um, Harry? Could you shift into neutral, no wait, it was towed, so it's already I neutral. Right, just steer as I push the car."

                "Sure." Harry leapt into the driver's seat and put both hands on the steering wheel. This was the first time he had ever been in the front of a car. Vernon leant against the front of the car and pushed with all his might. The car began to move, grinding metal was heard, but seemed to pulse with each wheel rotation. Harry turned the steering wheel and the car backed into the driveway, he straightened the wheel and the car slowly entered the garage. Harry got out and stood at the entrance to the garage with his uncle, again in contemplative silence. He promised that a thing this wonderful, deserved all his effort, even if it was for his uncle. He would have to do this the same way as his motorbike; one piece at a time. Harry wished his Uncle a good night, and crept up to his room. So this was what it was like to be a man, to take apart, and put back together. He began to think about the recent twist of events, and his mind reminded him 'women may have the upper hand in logic and intelligence, but they could never comprehend the strong spiritual connection between man and his creations.'

                Everyone, thank you for reading and reviewing, and I ask that you review, but if you're not going to, I won't be able to do anything will I. This was an…interesting chapter. We see the beginning of development between Harry and Hermione, and Harry and Vernon. I think that this is going to be the last "happy" chapter for a long while. It's all going to start going downhill from here, folks. I had to have Harry connect with someone for a while, even if it is his Uncle, because he will force the disconnection and isolation between himself, and Hermione and Ron. It will probably get a bit Dark later on, but I think I should be able to maintain the quality which everyone says is good (great in some cases). Although, I do not have much self-confidence, hence I need reviews, similarly to drugs, to continue. It's an addiction!!!

Stoneheart – Thanks for the review as always. Yes, I realized there is much more to our neutrality during the beginning of WWII than I put in, but just like in the HP books, no one likes a long history lesson, and it makes it easier to incorporate from that simplistic point of view. I understand it well I think (WEEHEE! Got a 96 on that test!!!) but I think our motivations for dropping the A-Bomb on Japan is a much more debatable topic, regarding the big WHY? Question. About the H/Hr happy ending…I promise that later (probably much later) they will get close, but this chapter is really the only hint of anything for a long while. You'll understand in probably like four more chapters, when I explain it. I don't promise a happy ending. I always have the greatest bad endings, some are absolutely brilliant. But I don't really have the courage to use them. Maybe I'll end this fic like ¾ of the way through and have three separate alternate endings. That would be weird. Hermione will never convince Harry to loose another nail for her, because he doesn't trust himself to have that connection with her. It could be his downfall. Ah, and the Moody complex. From what I get from the very little real Moody we see, as opposed the well played part by Crouch, I think the Voldemort shudder won't coincide. None of Voldies followers can say his name, and although Moody is ver jumpy, and paranoid, I do not believe for a second, he would be afraid to say the name. He has seen too much to fear it like the others, and he has the balls, if anyone does, to say it with a smile. Thanx again, Fare thee well.

Kneazle – Thank you for your review. You say Harry seems so old for a fourteen year old. I say this; How mature would you be after 1. Having dead parents, and coping with the void left in your heart. 2. Growing up with hateful people such as the Dursleys 3. Saving the World, The Hogwarts, then your godfather, then watching an acquaintance die next to you 4. Feel  pain beyond pain, and live to tell the tale. I think you would grow up pretty fast, don't you? Harry is going to end up being forty in a fifteen year olds body, if he doesn't find an outlet. As you can tell from this chapter, I am going to lighten his load before the shit really starts to fly, and it will. I'm sorry, but he won't find a book like that. Amusing thought though. He will figure it out soon enough, and it will only make things worse. Hermione was always the quick one, but Harry was never that far behind her, and he will see his attraction to her soon enough. Ron is going to be much more quite, and a little sad too. He will begin to feel real jealousy towards Harry, but will stay non-violent. Yes, Ron grows up. Fred and George are going to tear Hogwarts apart, but if you read my summary, Harry really isn't going to be there. Hint hint. We see what Malfoy is really like, without Harry to stand up to him. Malfoy will pretty much take over the school though, and violence will ensue. Thanx again.

Badger Lord – Thank you for the review. I added Rita, and she will be important for what she does in this story, not who she is. As I kind had Harry make her do, She will unite the magical world.

ADJ – You are the only one to mention the prophesy!!! One hundred Galleons Leprechaun gold for you. You're a smart one. It was subtle, but yes, this prophesy will eventually bring out a trait in Voldemort never ever seen before. No, love would be impossible. We see Ignorance! Voldie ain't as smart as he thinks he is. Wink, Wink. Yes Neutrality is evil. I don't remember what fic, maybe it was Septanic Dueling by NAPPA (great author) , I'm not sure, but Harry is a prefect and lead the first years to their dorms and says that Gryffindors are brave, and that they need to stand up for the kids who are picked on and what not. That reminded me of that idea. If you watch someone get hurt by the hand of another, and do nothing to stop it, you are no better than the person doing it. Even if you do step in, those few seconds of hesitation can mean a lot of pain to the recipient. Why do you think Harry was so sharp with Hermione. She would hesitate. Want to think it through. Lost time will become important here. Harry will progress with magic A LOT. He works in a bookstore and can legally do magic. He he. He will be bored and he will read, and read and read and turn Dudley into a boar, and read and read. He will not return to Hogwarts. DID ANYONE READ MY SUMMARY??? At least not at the beginning of term. He runs away, supposedly, like the coward Harry is (sarcasm evident here) but there are two real motivations for his departure, and only one person knows where he goes, well, two. No, three. Not Hermione, not any Weasleys. We'll see when the time comes

Thanks also to – Taracollowen – Garm – HarryHermione4ever – Vagrantshadow – and anyone else I have forgotten. Thank you all and pleasant reading!