Disclaimer: I own nothing related in any way to the Harry Potter Universe. I do take credit for Cricket, however. Bow to him, for he reigns supreme.

Harry Potter and the Strength of Three

Chapter 3: Confusing Rescue

The next morning Harry was feeling strange and out of sorts, laying in his bed with his arms behind his head as he stared once more upon his ceiling. It was not a particularly interesting sight. Quite boring, actually. A simple textured, white painted ceiling found in most modern homes. Small brown stains here and there, proof that the Dursley's had seen no reason to repair his area of the roof when the rest of it had been re-tiled the previous summer. Despite the disrepair that his room was slowly falling into, it was not the reason for his melancholy mood.

Who did Dudley think he was? Seeking forgiveness from him after a lifetime of treating Harry like a whipping boy? Memories of Dudley and his motley gang of bullies flashed through his head, one after another. Breaking his glasses when he was nine, only to be scolded for his "carelessness, and blatant disregard for the glasses his Aunt had so graciously bought for him." He had stole some masking tape from a kitchen drawer when no-one was looking, repairing his glasses in the privacy of his cupboard, all the while sniffling from the spanking his Aunt had given him.

Harry rarely cried as a child, and when he did it was in private. Crying after a scolding or beating only resulted in more punishment. He had not been crying from the pain of his sore bottom, it was the fear that his glasses would no longer work. Not being able to see was a very frightening concept, especially for a child. Other memories swam through his mind, seeming to demand his attention. Dudley, mocking him for the state of his clothes in front of the whole class in elementary, when the teacher had left the room.

But worse than all the rest, was Dudley telling his classmates not to be friends with Harry. Harry was weird, look at his glasses, look at the scar. His dad was a drunk, and his mum worthless, it was a good thing they died.

"Harry's a weirdo, Harry's a weirdo." The kids chanted loudly, laughing and sneering at him. "Harry's a weirdo, Harry's a weirdo." Dudley guffawed loudly, slapping Peirs on the back. The same boy who had offered Harry a piece of chocolate the day before. Peirs took up the chant with Dudley now, leering evilly at Harry. "Harry's a weirdo, Harry's a weirdo."

The boy in question, just a little thing far smaller than all the other children, didn't move from his seat. Tears streamed silently down his cheeks unchecked.

"Look at his glasses!" Harry's cousin shouted above the hateful words. "They're made of tape, what a geek!" The group of children broke up into another bout of hilarious laughter, Dudley louder than all the rest, reveling in his own joke. "And his scar, he's deformed! What a freak!"

Harry flinched at each accusation, sniffling in protest now. Why was he crying? Dudley was right, he was a weirdo, nothing but a weakling.

"He's just like his parents!" Dudley exclaimed. Harry wiped angrily at the tears with the sleeve of his shirt, jumping from his seat he whirled to face his tormentors. "They were weirdo's too, dad says so! His dad was a drunk, they were both worthless, better off dead!" The chanting stopped as Harry stood, nostrils flaring in anger with his heavy breathing. A pencil was clenched in one tiny fist.

"Take that back, Dudley!" Harry screamed, not caring how loud he was. "My parents weren't weirdos! They loved me, and I love them!" A couple of the students in the group backed away warily, wide eyed at his anger. Dudley laughed.

"They were freaks, and you know it!" He sneered, walking slowly towards Harry. "Make me. Make me take it back, weirdo!" He pushed Harry violently, making him trip and bash his head on the desk behind him. His taped up glasses flew from his nose and skittered across the floor. He didn't cry out, simply glaring hatefully at his cousin, fists clenching.

CRACK! The pencil in little Harry's hand snapped in two, the larger half spinning away to knock Dudley in the head with a dull 'thuck.' Dudley blinked, grunting. Harry gasped, looking down at his tiny fist. Red blood dribbled from between his fingers, dripping onto the linoleum in little 'splats.' He opened his hand, fascinated. Little splinters from the pencil were embedded into his palm. They stung if he touched them.

The teacher chose that moment to walk through the door.

Dudley had claimed that Harry tried to stab him with a pencil, so he pushed him. The pencil broke when he fell down. The entire class agreed with him, backing him up. Harry was forced to go to the Headmaster's office, where he was reprimanded harshly. A letter was written for him to bring to his parents, and Harry had to meet with a counselor three days a week.

A shrink. Harry thought, angrily. The entire class was treating me horribly, Dudley assaulted me, and I'm the one who got into trouble. Harry balled up his fist and struck the mattress he lay on angrily, scowling at the ceiling. Dudley thinks I'll just forgive him, after all that? Not bloody likely! Arrogant prat! Slimy, sodding bastard!

Harry jumped from the bed, stomping over to his trunk. Kicking it viciously when it refused to open, he grabbed a set of clean clothes and stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. He heard an indignant squack from downstairs, followed by Vernon bellering something about slamming doors in this house. He dumped his clothes atop the hamper, kicking it for good measure. Turning, to the mirror, he gasped in sudden surprise and fear, falling backwards into the tub.

"Ouch, damnit!" Harry yelled, his voice no longer angry, but frightened. Cautiously, he peeked above the counter, sighing in relief at the sight of his reflection. He stood fully, rubbing the back of his head where it had struck the wall. That'll leave a mark. Quickly, he brushed his teeth and shaved with Vernons straight-edge razor like he did every morning. Quickly forgetting what he had seen in the mirror.

After he finished showering and dressing in the days set of baggy, worn out clothes, Harry walked to his room. Grabbing his backpack, he rushed down the stairs. He had to get out of the house. He was starting to feel oddly caustrophobic, and he needed a smoke. Vernon accosted him before he reached the exit.

"What the hell were you doing up there boy?" He yelled, spittle flying from his oversized lips. Harry daydreamed briefly about him having a stroke. "Slamming doors and banging around, trying to destroy our house are you? Get out! Get out of my house this instant!" Harry said nothing, simply walked around the sputtering form of his Uncle to get to the door. With a wicked grin, he slammed it on his way out. Vernon took up his bellering again behind him, and Harry laughed openly, starting on his way to the store. Bloddy git, Ha! How'd you like that?

Felling a little more optimistic about his day, Harry whistled happily until he left Privet drive. There, he stopped and lit a cigarette before continuing on his way, revelling in the feeling of the smoke in his lungs. It didn't make him feel sick anymore, just....pleasent. His mood lightened more with each step away from his relatives home.

Deciding that Cricket and himself each deserved a treat, Harry bought a candy bar along with the usual bag of peanuts and soda at Parlow's. The clerk still eyed him suspiciously at the counter, but he payed no attention. He was used to the clerk's glances after the few days he had been in the store. He wondered briefly if he eyed all his customers that way, but shrugged it off, leaving the store and walking to Maggie's.

"Hello again, Harry. The usual?" Susan beamed brightly at him this morning, and he smiled back, forcing the frown to stay off his face. You know my sodding cousin, so now you like me?

"Yes please." He said warmly, letting the smile drop from his face as she turned her back. Why did Dudley have to approach him yesterday? He was having a great summer before he came, stirring up old memories. Git. Before long he was finishing his plate of sausages, eggs, and toast. With Orange juice, of course. When he was done, he pushed the plate away roughly before grabbing his backpack and walking to the register, digging his wallet out of his pocket as he went.

He didn't leave a tip, this time.

"You like football, laddie?" Harry turned at the voice, seeing the same old man yesterday afternoon beaming at him around a set of yellowed crooked teeth. Even this guy. Scowling at me until Great Dudley walked through the door with me. Grungy git. His teeth were horrid.

"Umm...yea. I guess." Harry mumbled, tapping on the counter nervously as he waited for Susan. The old man smiled, turning back to the telly above the bar. He sipped his coffee with a loud slurping noise. Harry fought the urge to sneer.

"How was it Harry? Good?" Harry nodded to Susan as she rang up the bill, accepting his money with a warm smile and handing his change back. "Could ya do me a favor?" Harry frowned, before quickly turning it into a smile. He hoped he wasn't grimacing, nodding at her to continue. "Well, you see, Penny's been downright dreadful since they broke up." She should be happy. "I was wondering, could you ask Dudley to stop by the house sometime, seeing as you're his cousin?" Harry nodded, smiling wider. Whatever. "Great! I know they'll both be more happy if they get back together." With one more beaming smile, she moved on to the other customers, calling out greetings to a couple that walked through the door.

What's this Penny see in Dudley anyway? He's a git. Harry stomped off toward the park, puffing angrily on a cigarette.

Even the peace and tranquility of the park did nothing for his black mood. The sky was dreary and overcast again. I hope it doesn't rain. That would be just my sodding luck. Harry grimaced as he swung himself up into the tree, flopping into his usual seat. Unzipping his pack he rifled through the contents, finding the peanuts he gazed around at the surrounding branches hopefully, clucking his tounge. "Cricket?" He called, the thought of his little friend warming his spirits slightly. "Oi', Cricket, come get some peanuts." Harry waited a few minutes, before giving up with a sigh of defeat. Setting the bag of peanuts in front of him, he grabbed a book out of his bag at random. Stupid squirrel. Probably turned traitor and joined forces with Dudley. Everyone else seems to be on his side.

He reread the same paragraph in the curses book several times before closing it with an angry snap. Grabbing another cigarette from the quickly diminishing pack, he lit it and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the trunk. Anger coursed through his veins like fire. He had to strike out at something, anything. He felt like he was burning up. Balling his fist, he struck the rough bark beneath him.

Wham!

"Harry's a weirdo, Harry's a weirdo."

Wham!

"Harry's a weirdo, Harry's a weirdo."

Wham!

"Harry?" He jerked his head up, eyes opening wide. He was surprised to feel tears on his cheeks. Dudley sat in front of him. He hadn't even heard him climb the tree. "You alright mate?" Harry growled at this, and Dudley widened his eyes in surprise. His hand hurt, glancing at it Harry wasn't surprised to see blood slowly dripping from his knuckles. It reminded him of the pencil.

Sticking his knuckles to his mouth, Harry roughly threw his book into the backpack and zipped it up. Standing, he stuck his arm through the strap before glaring at Dudley.

"Fuck you!" He yelled, Dudley flinched back in surprise. "What the hell do you care? I hate you! Stay the hell away from me!" Dudley was staring open mouthed, his eyes oddly bright. Without hesitation, Harry scrambled from the tree, slipping off the steps to drop the last few feet to the ground. Grunting, he stood up and began to run back towards the middle of the park, limping. Tears streamed from his face. Even Cricket doesn't like me anymore. Breaking out into a faster run, Harry began sobbing between breaths. Knives stabbed him in the side from the exertion, but still he ran.

Eventually he slumped onto a bench on the side of whatever path he was on, dropping his head into his hands. Sobs wracked his body in convulsive jerks, the backpack slipping from his shoulder to dangle from his wrist before he let it drop. Rocking back and forth, he began mumbling in between sobs. "Sirius," he moaned, "I..I'm s-so sorry." He missed him so much, and all the grief he should have been feeling the past few days hit him like a bludger to the chest.

A hand on his shoulder.

Harry jerked his tear streaked face around wildly, his eyes darting about. He thought he heard a gasp. No-one was there, however, so he returned to his sobbing. Rocking back and forth with his knees to his chest, he cryed for all the memories of Sirius. All the memories they could have shared, but would now never have the chance. Eventually he cryed himself out. Sniffling and hiccuping, he dried his eyes on the sleeve of his overlarge shirt, taking in his surroundings for the first time since his wild run.

He was in an area of the park he had never visited before. Graffiti lined the marble monument across from him, the surface chipped and scarred. The ground was littered with trash, broken bottles and crushed cans. Chunks of the grass was brown, dead. Making the lawn look as though it was diseased, mottled. The grass that was green was a little too long, as though the landscaper didn't care to mow this area very often. The place was giving him the creeps.

His neck prickled, the little hairs standing on end. Harry jumped from his seat, whirling around.

"Well, well, well. What have we got here?" A menacing voice taunted. "Potter, is that you? Have you been crying? Awww." Peirs Polkiss stood not ten feet behind where he had been sitting, leering at him between two bulking figures. The sight reminded Harry of Malfoy. "Miss your mommy, Potter?" The three chuckled, advancing on him slowly. Harry backed up a step worriedly, before scowling. You're a Gryffindor, you great Prat. Stand your ground!

"What do you want, Peirs?" Harry asked, surprised at how steady his voice was. "I don't want trouble." The three laughed again, a menacing evil chuckle. Harry swallowed.

"Oh, nothing." Peirs sneered, waving his hand at the larger guy to his right. Peirs took whatever it was from the Goyle look-alike's hand as it was offered. Bringing his hand to his face, he breathed deeply, holding his breath before expelling a cloud of sweet smelling smoke in Harry's face. A joint. They're smoking marijuana. Harry waved the smoke from his face irritably, scowling at the rat faced teen in front of him. How could I have ever wanted him to be my friend? Peirs smirked. "Wanna hit?" He pushed his hand into Harry's face, who batted it away.

"No." Harry snarled. "Goodbye." Making to brush past rat face and his cohorts, he grunted as a fist landed in his stomach, sending him to his knees as he lost his breath. Coughing and spluttering, Harry slowly got to his feet. Breath ragged, fury in his eyes, he scrabbled at the waistband of his pants for his wand. My wand! He had left it at the Dursleys, he was in such a hurry to leave that morning. Idiot! Great sodding idiot! How could you forget your wand? The three openly laughed now, Peirs the loudest. He sounded to Harry like a braying Donkey.

Balling his fist, Harry struck out, landing a clumsy blow to Peirs jaw, before ducking to the right and running the few steps for his bag. As he stooped to grab it, a foot kicked him in the rump, sending him careening into the park bench where he had been sitting. Sharp pinpricks of light danced in his vision, as he felt himself being hauled roughly to his feet. The two big thugs stood on either side of him, pinning his arms behind his back. Harry felt a brief moment of pride as he noticed Peirs' split lip, before a fist rocketed out and connected with his own jaw, snapping his head back. His vision swam in and out of focus crazily, and he wondered if he was going to be sick. Blows rained upon his face, chest, and stomach like fist sized hailstones.

"Hey!" A voice shouted. "Let him go, what the hell do you think you're doing, Peirs!?" It was Dudley. Harry couldn't see him, his glasses lay at his feet, and one of his eyes was swelling shut. Blood drooled from his open mouth as he coughed wretchedly.

"Dudley! What's up man?" Peirs chuckled. "You want some too, eh?" This made Harry confused. Wasn't Peirs in Dudley's gang? Why would he be threatening him? Harry's head was swimming, and he vomited down the front of his shirt, coughing and sputtering weakly. Peirs laughed. "Just watch the puke." Harry almost vomited again. Of course he wasn't threatening Dudley, he was asking him to beat on Harry. Despite himself, he chuckled. Everyone looked at him sharply, incredulous.

"J-just, cough, l-like old times, e-eh, Dudley?" His laugh was full force now, causing him to start coughing raggedly. Leaning his head back, Harry brought it down in a jerk, spitting blood into Peirs face. Laughing harder. I must be going nuts. Scowling, Peirs wiped the spit from his face roughly with the sleeve of his jacket, grimacing as he looked at the mess. Winding up with a snarl, he sent a fist flying at Harry's head.

Crack!

Harry stopped laughing. Dudley had stepped forward and caught Peirs fist in his hand, stopping it like a brick wall.

"What the hell Dudley?" Peirs raved, ripping his hand away roughly. "He fucking spit on me! What are you playing at?" Harry was wondering the same thing himself.

"Let him go." Dudley's voice was a thinly veiled threat, challenging. Peirs looked shocked, but the shock slowly turned to a wicked grin as realization set it.

"Protecting poor Potter, eh? How...noble of you, Dursley." Peirs jerked his head towards Harry, and his cronies released their grip. Harry dropped to the ground with a thud, grunting weakly. The three began to circle Dudley now, who kept his attention on Peirs, glancing at Harry out of his eye. His form shouted confidence.

"Alright there, Harry?" He asked, returning his attention to the three walking around him. Harry scrabbled around him, finding his glasses he slipped them on his face. Looking up to Dudley.

"Yea, I'll be ok." Harry's voice sounded weak to his own ears, wheazing. Dudley nodded, glancing at Harry again, and Peirs suddenly exploded outward, his fist aiming for the large teens jaw. Dudley ducked, spinning to the right as he threw his own fist out and caught Peirs in the stomach. Peirs lungs exploded outward, sending him to his knees, gagging and sputtering as he tryed to catch his breath. One of the Goyle look-alikes swung a fist, catching a grazing blow on Dudley's cheek as he weaved to the side. Bringing his fist up ina vicious uppercut, he sent the second cohort reeling backwards to fall on his rump with a thud.

Harry watched in awe. Dudley really was a boxing champion, he thought. Go Dudley! The third thug attacked as his friend fell, missing completely as Harry's cousin dodged to the left, bringing his fist around and catching his opponent in the side of the face, following through with a punch to the stomach that made him double over in pain. Dudley grabbed him by the hair and brought his knee up with a sharp crack, and the thug dropped to the ground, unconscious, his nose a mangled mess. Peirs was still struggling to stand weakly as Dudley walked up to him, lifting him roughly off his feet and holding him in the air by the hold he had on his collar. Peirs kicked his feet and pounded on Dudley's arms. Letting go with one hand, he brought one rock like fist forward into Peirs face, the force lifting him up higher before Dudley grabbed him roughly and set him back on his feet.

"I told you to let him go!" Dudley snarled, throwing Peirs to the ground, who landed with a whimper. "Get the hell out of here, and I never want to see you again!" Dudley walked to the thug he had knocked out, kicking him roughly in the ribs. "Get up, scumbag." With lost of panting coughs and wild looks over their shoulders, the three ran off. Dudley walked to Harry, offering his hand. Harry took it, pulling himself to his feet. Looking Dudley in the eye, Harry nodded, before winding up himself and belting Dudley in the face.

"Owe! What the hell?" Dudley yelled, stumbling back. Scowling, he looked back up at Harry, who was smiling. Slowly, his scowl melted from his face, and he laughed. "Ha! Guess I deserved that. Feeling better now?" Harry nodded, laughing himself.

"Thanks for the help." He chuckled. "You're really good, anyone ever tell you that? You wiped the floor with those guys!"

"I am the Inter-School boxing Champion, you know." He said with a smirk. Then frowned. "What was your problem this morning? Why'd you run off?" Harry sighed, stumbling over to the bench he had been brained by when one of the three kicked him in the arse. Sitting down with a groan, he dug his pack of cigarettes out and lit one up, tossing the pack to Dudley.

"I had a rough morning. Nightmares last night, you know? Sirius." Harry grimaced, spitting on the sidewalk. His spit was still bloody. "Then all I could think about this morning was how you used to treat me, back in school." Dudley sighed himself, as he took a seat beside his cousin.

"I wasn't kidding when I said I was sorry, you know." He rubbed his jaw where Harry had hit him. "That was a pretty good shot there." Harry laughed, and Dudley joined him. Harry ended with another groan, spitting some more blood on the sidewalk. "You gonna be all right, mate?" Dudley asked, concern worrying his brow. "Lets go get you cleaned up, yea?" Harry nodded. Before jumping back into his seat along with Dudley, who gave a decidedly girlish scream as a person materialized before them from thin air.

"Wotcher, Harry." said the voice of Nymphadora Tonks, in a gentle voice. "You don't look so good." She smiled softly, squatting to the ground in front of the two as she let the invisibility cloak fall from her shoulders. Her hair was an outrageous shade of pink, almost electric in its brightness, laying in waves around a small, cute face. Harry realized with a start that here eyes were pink as well. Withdrawing her wand from a holster at her wrist, she began muttering healing charms over his injuries, pausing to speak after each one. "I would have helped you myself, but I seen him." Here she jabbed her wand towards Dudley, the end emmitting a shower of sparks. "Oops, sorry mate." She blushed. Dudley just sat there, staring open-mouthed at the fading bruises and knitting cuts on Harry's face. "Anyways, I was going to help, but then I saw this bloke stepping in, so I waited to see what would happen." She frowned over a particularly stubborn cut on his brow, before sighing. "Where is your wand, Harry?" She looked him in the eye at this, sucking in a breath at the pain she saw in their depths.

"I-I'm sorry, Tonks. I forgot it in my room this morning." Harry stated, looking towards his hands as he folded them in his lap. "I was in a hurry, you know? And I had a.." He glanced at Dudley out of the corner of his eye, hesitating. "Rough night." He brought his gaze level with Tonks, looking her in the eye. "I miss him, Tonks. I miss him so damn m-much." He couldn't help it. After the frustrating morning, the shock of getting beat up, piled on top of all his other stress and Sirius' death caused him to break out in tears again, his chin quivering. Tonks looked at him with tears in her own eyes, reaching a hand out before hesitating, looking pointedly at Dudley.

"Err...right. I best be going then." Dudley stammered, jumping from his seat and starting to walk away.

"Dudley." Harry choked, "thanks for the help." Dudley turned around, smiling sadly at his cousin. "Susan told me to tell you to stop by the house, Penny wants to see you." Dudley broke into a grin at this, throwing his fist into the air with a whoop of joy. Harry smiled through his tears. "See you tomorrow, at The Tree?" He asked, suddenly feeling nervous. Dudley noticed this, and walked over to his cousin, placing one meaty hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry about this morning," he said, "I understand." He took his hand away, running it through his hair with a sigh. "I know I don't deserve it, but could you ever forgive me? For before, I mean, in school and stuff."

"I forgive you, Dudley," Harry said, smiling. "Friends?" He held his hand out, and his cousin grasped it, shaking it jovially.

"Friends." Dudley smiled one more time before walking away. Tonks stood up, sitting on the bench beside Harry where Dudley had been sitting.

"You donna be alright, Harry?" She asked, healing the last of the scratches from his face.

"I'll be ok." Harry nodded. "Thanks Tonks." He jerked his head up suddenly, looking at Tonks curiously. "Have you been watching me all the time?" Tonks blushed at this, looking away from Harry as she returned her wand to its holster.

"Yes." She said simply, turning to face Harry again. "I've been your personal bodyguard since you returned to the muggles. Dumbledor thought it best if someone were looking out for you." Harry smiled at this.

"Well, I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather have watching my back." He said, hugging Tonks around the neck tightly. "Thanks Tonks....for everything." Tonks hugged him back, blushing furiously from the compliment. "Why didn't you ever show yourself before this?"

"I'm supposed to keep a low profile," she said, "you know, not to draw attention and all that rot." Harry laughed at Tonks' grin, standing from the bench and offering her his hand.

"Thanks for healing me too, I feel a lot better. They teach you healing charms in Auror training? He asked curiously. Tonks nodded. "If you get the chance, tell Moody the books are great."

"Ha! I knew he gave you those books! Did he give you Fight Fire with Fire?" She laughed again at Harry's nod. "And he's always barking at me to go by the rules, while he gives you a book full of restricted spells!" They both broke into laughter at this, setting off down the path from the direction Harry had come. "Well Harry, time for me to disappear. Just remember, I'll always be close by." She nodded at him, before drawing him into a hug. "We all miss him, you know. He was a great man." She whispered into his ear, before turning away quickly and drawing the cloak over her head, disappearing from view. "Talk to you later, Harry." He thought he detected a hint of tears in her voice. Sighing, he set off down the path once more, hiking the backpack higher up his shoulder.

Cricket was waiting for him when he got back to the tree, and he spent the rest of the afternoon petting him softly as he fed him peanuts and chocolate. It had been a really long day.

A/N I'm really quite proud of this chapter. Sorry if I make Harry seem like a pouting wimp in this one, but I had to show how worthless he was without a wand. Also, his anger at Dudley was fed by his grief for Sirius. You may have noticed how he's got some bad mood swings now and then, and I plan on having that mostly out of the way soon. And yes, the hand Harry felt on his shoulder was Tonks'. She gasped at the turmoil in his expression when whe saw his face.

Thanks for all those that put me on alert and added me to your favorites. I would appreciate a review though....hint, hint.

I originally didn't plan on having Tonks in this chapter, but I think it worked out pretty good. My muses can throw me curve balls at times. I like the way it turned out though.

Well folks, I hope you like the speed of my updates so far. grins I doubt I can keep it up forever, but its fun and coming to me fast right now. I don't have time to clean this chapter up yet before posting, so you'll have to slog your way through my shoddy spelling. I cleaned up and reposted Apologies, but nothing is really changed except for maybe a couple sentences. I'll go over this one tomorrow after work again and clean it up.

coolone007-2 Thanks for your kind words. I'm glad you like the story so far, I'm enjoying writing it. Although, I'm gonna have to stop staying up so damn late when I'm writing. Its 2:30 Am already. Anyways, it looks like Dudley and Penny might make up. You'll have to wait to see about Cricket:)

Edit: 10/12/2004

I cleaned up the spelling mistakes and changed around some sentences, if anyone finds any other mistakes please let me know. Thanks!

Please Review!