Unlikely Companions:
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Beta-read by the fabulous CuriousDreamWeaver.
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Chapter 9: Trouble Part Two
Hurting…everything was hurting. He wanted to be anywhere, anywhere but there. It was too much. Death was everywhere. He ran; he ran so fast that it hurt. He was falling. Falling? Why would he fall? He was on the grounds of Malfoy Manor, not in the mountains.
Draco Malfoy's eyes snapped open and he barely kept himself from falling off his bed. The bed that was just standing opposite of HARRY POTTER'S bed. Draco held his breath, but he could hear nothing. It seemed that the other boy was sleeping for once. In the last three weeks the raven-haired boy had not slept straight for a whole night. At least, that's what Draco thought. He hadn't been able to sleep a full night and whenever he awoke, Harry was awake with him. Nightmares were their constant companions.
Suddenly Draco heard a soft rustle from the other side of the room. Maybe he had been wrong and Harry was awake as well. The young Malfoy tried to be even more quite than he had before. He liked being with Harry, when he had woken up at night from the horrid memories that would not let him have his peace. But he was not sure that it was very smart. Over the last three weeks he had accepted his new living arrangements, he had made his peace with it. But there were certain borders that should not be crossed. Having too much contact with Harry James Potter, the Golden Boy, the True Gryffindor, everybody's Saviour, was one of them. Everything was fine, as it was now. Why change it? Of course, there where a few things that could be better. Harry still didn't talk and couldn't remember anything from his past. They were both suffering terrible nightmares and never got a night's rest. But it could be much worse, couldn't it?
A characteristic Malfoy smirk appeared on his face.
Nevertheless, his mood changed instantly back to brooding and he had to stop himself from sighing out loud. He really didn't want to talk to Harry right now or even cuddle up to him. As silent as he could he turned around so that he was facing the wall. Facing the wall seemed to be a better choice than facing a still sleepy Gryffindor boy, who wanted to be cuddled on the couch, because he was too chicken to go back to sleep. Although he had to admit that could be fun as well, Draco was at once lost in his memories of holding a shaking body in his arms. A person seeking out his presence for comfort. A person with a slender, soft and yet manly body, still warm and drowsy from sleep.
As much as he was trying to lie to himself, at some point he simply couldn't avoid to admitting to himself that he really liked the little night time sessions with Harry, but that was what scared him so much. It was okay to be friends with him. But he wasn't sure, if it was only friendship-like feelings that he was feeling. It was probably better not to think about it at all, he really didn't want to know what he was feeling. Not thinking about it and pretending that everything was alright, sounded like a great Malfoy-plan to him….. He really should think of something else. Something else, which was entirely more pleasant and not as confusing.
He could think of Harry. But he was trying to avoid that particular train of thought. He could think of food…. Harry had been hilarious when he had eaten mashed potatoes for the first time. The raven-haired Gryffindor had been so clumsy that day that he had gotten the mashed potatoes all over him and as Draco had laughed at the sight, Harry had thrown some on him. It wasn't often that he had had such a good time, but on the other hand, he had really never been involved into a food fight before. Draco sighed inwardly once more; it seemed impossible to think of anything but the boy just a few steps away. So he might as well think about something practical.
He really was totally confused about Harry's progress. He wasn't even sure, if it could be called progress. He hadn't talked again after the first time. However it seemed that he wasn't as clingy as he had been during the beginning. It had been the worst when he had returned from his talk with Dumbledore. He had been gone for a few hours and when he had returned to their room, he had found Harry cowering in the corner next to his bed. The minute he had seen Draco he had jumped up and thrown himself on the slightly taller blonde. It had taken nearly an hour to calm him. Draco had never made so many promises in his life as he had found himself doing during that time. It seemed easier to promise Harry that he would be safe and he wouldn't leave him alone again, than it was to convince him that Hogwarts was safe.
That was the same night that their couch-comfort-partnership began, since then they'd meet every few nights. They always met in the middle of the room and walked together to the couch, where they had comforted each other, all wrapped up in a nice, cosy blanket with the fire crackling friendly in front of them. They couldn't tell, where they got the knowledge from that they needed each other at that moment. They simply knew.
It was nice; Draco couldn't deny it. It didn't matter how much he wanted to change it, he really liked their little meetings and part of him wished for it to continue. He thought about it for a moment, then stood up and walked to the middle of the room and waited for any sign that the other boy had noticed. He didn't have to wait long. Less than a minute later, he saw the dark outline of a head rising and when Harry had seen that he was actually waiting, he scrambled quickly out from under his covers. Slowly he came towards Draco, who couldn't be more than a shadowy silhouette with a white spot of hair on the head. As if they shared the same mind they moved together towards the couch. It was Draco, who lit the fire, while Harry put the blanket around the two of them.
Slowly Draco put his arms around the Gryffindor, all the while very aware of the fact that only their pairs of pyjamas were separating them from each other. He had been right. It WAS good. He squeezed Harry a little bit tighter and looked him into the eyes. Harry returned the look and once again they seemed to share one mind. Draco knew that Harry was happy and Harry knew that Draco was happy. The dark heard youth snuggled closer to his former enemy and slowly closed his eyes. A few minutes later the room was silent except for the crackling of the fire.
The next day started like every other day in the previous week of their time together. Nothing ordinary at all. In the late morning Professor McGonagall came over to help Harry with his wand skills, while Draco settled down on the windowsill to read a little bit, although he found that he was actually mostly looking at the black haired youth with so many secrets. There was so much to think about.
A week before, they had decided to teach him the little he could do without speaking. There were very few things a wizard could do without the incantation of a spell, simple things like lighting a candle or putting it out again. Today, after an hour, she admitted that she couldn't teach him anymore. Harry looked more than a little bit frustrated by that statement. Being able to perform magic had made him quite enthusiastic and Draco had to admit that he had seemed to be as happy as he was during their nightly encounters. He guessed that it was the one thing that he was truly destined for, being a wizard and very powerful at that. He surely was meant to achieve much in his life. But actually he had already done that. What else could he do, but defeat a Dark Lord? What else would be equally challenging? Maybe something like making the Philosopher's Stone (A/N: Sorcerer's stone, for the Americans), but with Potter's (The name Harry and Potions do not mix.) poor Potions skills, he was sure that he would do no such thing.
In the last three weeks Draco had not done much but observe Harry. He seemed restless, as though he was waiting for something to happen. Although he didn't remember anything from his past, he appeared to know that waiting for anything to happen was very contrary to his true character or what he became used to over the last seven years. But what could he do, if the world did not need a rescue? That had always seemed to be the destiny of the Boy-who-Lived. But what is a hero with a fulfilled destiny?
Draco stared out of the window. Actually it was rather simple, wasn't it? Harry was a human being, an ordinary human being. That seemed very weird to Draco Malfoy, who had hated the Boy-who-Lived and his whole saviour image for so long. But plain Harry wasn't bad. No, not bad at all and that in every aspect. He felt his face heating up and cursed once more his fair skin that liked to redden, whenever it felt like it.
"Draco, could I have a minute with you?", the Professor smiled when the young man nearly fell of the sill; she enjoyed seeing him acting like a normal person, seldom sight, with Draco Malfoy. Malfoy's seemed to be trained to plan everything and be in control of all their actions.
"Sure, Professor, what can I do for you?", Draco swore inwardly about his clumsiness and his reddening face.
"Could we talk alone for a minute?"
Thinking about their possibilities, Draco decided to guide the Professor out into the corridor. He really didn't believe it to be appropriate to talk with a professor in their bathroom.
"Of course, please come with me.", as soon as Draco came in close proximity to the door that led outside, he heard a yelp and almost fell to the ground when Harry tackled him in an attempt to stop him from moving any farther away.
Draco turned around and saw a very surprised Professor McGonagall watching both of them. Once again embarrassed in front of Gryffindor's Head of House, he tried to detach the two arms that had locked themselves around him, all the while whispering to Harry.
"Harry, please let go. I am just outside the door if you need anything. I wont be gone for long. I'll come back soon. I promise.", the other boy looked questioning up in Draco's face and laid a hand on his arm. "Yes, Harry, I promise." This seemed to calm and reassure Harry immensely, he waved a small goodbye at Professor McGonagall and retreated back to their couch.
Once he stepped outside, Draco was surprised by the respect he saw in the eyes of Minerva McGonagall. It was something he had never seen directed at him before.
"Well Draco, you know that I care very much for Harry. Could you tell me if he has made any progress?"
Draco saw the hopeful expression on the teacher's face and felt once more greatly frustrated he really didn't know what to say. Nearly every day at least one person had come to him and asked him that same question. But what could he say? That Harry was suffering through terrible nightmares every night because he had to free the world of evil's grip at the age of seventeen? Should he tell them that he came to him every night, when he woke up from one of those nightmares, shaking and seeking comfort from his former enemy? Or that he resumed to undress himself wherever he liked, whether Draco was there or not? And that he, Draco, liked that very much? What were they expecting? A quick healing in a week, so that they can think that they did the right thing, by training a child and later a teen to fight against the worst evil possibly? He was really sick of this!
"No, he has not made any further progress! He is still not who he was and I seriously doubt that he will ever be the same again. What did you think, when you taught him to be your little Gryffindor hero, would happen? Yeah, wow, bravery is really a great thing, isn't it? It's really more important than anything else, isn't it? What did you think? That he would face Voldemort and nothing would happen to him? He might have been lucky to get away with his life, but nobody can face Voldemort and come away unharmed. Face the truth! You sacrificed him to win your war! And now you think that everything will be alright in a minute? Don't be naive! He will not come around any time soon. He is somebody else now. Accept him, how he is now and let us be. It doesn't help at all, that you try to make him into the person he once was. For example, why are you only trying to teach him wand skills? Why don't you try to teach him potions? Only because he didn't like it in the past? You have to teach him things he can manage now. He might not like the same things as before. You can't now! And don't ask me silly questions!"
Professor Minerva McGonagall looked as if the ground had been kicked out from under her. Never had a student dared to talk to her in such a manner. To put it simply, she was shocked. It took her a minute before she could start thinking and the youth's breathing returned to a normal rate. She was used to looking for the logic and truth in the things she heard and read. And although she didn't like the boy standing in front of her and although she was ashamed that she disliked a student she couldn't stop herself to see the truth in his rant.
"Well, Mr. Malfoy, although you might be in a special position, you are still a student such disrespect towards a professor cannot be tolerated! Ten points from Slytherin!" She paused and gave him a considering look. "I have to admit that you have made some good points, although I am shocked to hear that you think that we willingly sacrificed Harry's life. We would have never let him go, if he had not agreed. He knew what he was facing and did it out of his own free will. You can be sure that I will be talking with Headmaster Dumbledore about this outburst of yours. And I will make sure to talk with Professor Snape about some potion's tutoring. I agree that with many potions you don't need a spell only the right methods. We really have missed that point in our considerations."
Draco smiled, when she actually admitted that he had been right. He had had no plans whatsoever, about telling her all that, but after hearing that question so many times, something in his head had clicked and he had been unable to stop himself.
"Mr. Malfoy, may I suggest that you do something to relax a little? You seem awfully distressed. Don't you get enough rest? Anyways do something fun and enjoy life. Good day to you."
With those words she left him standing outside his rooms alone. Once again he was fuming. How could she be wondering that he did not get enough rest? What was she thinking? Was she expecting that they were counting sheep, then falling asleep and were dreaming of flowery meadows? Do something fun…It sounded as if they were supposed to play with cuddly toys. He gritted his teeth, but refrained from following her yelling angrily. He had already lost Slytherin house points and didn't think it was wise to enrage her further.
Once he entered the room he was met with a happy yelp and nearly fell down again. Remembering their last tickling match, he thought it was best to stay on his feet and tried everything to remain upright.
"It's alright. Don't worry. I'm back and nothing happened. Let's think about what can we do now.", while he thought about it, he McGonagall's words floated back to him. 'Do something fun.' What would he really like to do? What hadn't he done for a while? Still thinking he let his gaze wander around the room. When he came to the window, he was hit with an idea. Of course, that was it! In the distance he could see the small outline of the Quidditch pitch.
It had taken nearly an hour to get Harry in his flying robes. He had been completely ignorant of the fact that wizards were able to fly on broomsticks. After a lot of reassuring that he had been really well at flying, he had finally convinced Harry to come with him. After a worried search for their brooms, Draco was finally able to locate them under their beds. Then he nearly had to drag Harry outside and now they were finally standing in the middle of the field. Between them was a chest with a few training balls. Draco felt ecstatic at being back in his element.
Throwing a leg over his broom, he kicked off with a smile. He soared up high in the air and started to zoom around as fast as he could, while trying some Quidditch moves. Harry remained on the ground, his view locked on the slender outline of his roommate. After ten minutes Draco registered that Harry was still standing on the green grass of the pitch next to the chest. He landed lightly near him and gave him a questioning glance.
"Don't you want to fly?", of course Harry did not answer, but his face displayed a look as if he didn't know what to think.
"O.k. I'll show you how to do it, all right? You have been really great in that earlier. So don't be afraid, you're a natural."
When he had explained him everything he needed to know, he waited for Harry to get on the broom. The last few minutes had strongly reminded him of their first flying lesson together, when he had stolen Neville's Remembrall. It's been six years since that day, but it felt like an eternity.
Harry was shaking. He wished to be anywhere, but here outside on the Quidditch Pitch. He was very relieved that he could be with Draco. He hated it to be anywhere without his new companion, nevertheless he certainly would rather be inside the castle or even better in their room. The young Gryffindor felt a thousand eyes watching him. Only his trust in Draco's ability to protect him kept him from running for shelter. In the last three weeks he never felt as insecure as he did now.
Carefully he listened to Draco's instructions. Although he thought it was utterly crazy to get on a piece of wood to fly, he would try anything to please his only true friend. After more attempts than he could count the broom finally hovered next to him, just at the perfect height to mount it. Still shaking Harry got on it and waited for something to happen. Surprised he looked at Draco, hoping that the other would understand his problem.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Go on, don't worry.", nothing happened and Harry's impression became even more worried. "Harry, you have to want to fly. If you don't think of anything, nothing will happen. Try it. You'll do fine."
It took the Harry almost another two minutes, but finally the broom started moving and winning height with every new meter. Draco was shaking his head in doubt. Could this possibly be Harry James Potter, youngest seeker in over a hundred years of Hogwarts' Quidditch history? His broom was shaking constantly as if trying to throw Harry down. The Gryffindor's face showed a frozen mask of anxiousness. He really didn't look comfortable, as though he thought he would fall off at any second. Draco quickly got on his broom and took off the ground catching up to Harry. The last thing he wanted was to see Harry once more in the hospital wing. Once they were next to each other, Harry seemed a little bit calmer, but nonetheless incredibly uncomfortable.
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Not so far in way up in the headmaster's tower stood Albus Dumbledore. He stood very still and looked at the two flying figures. One was very skilled, the other one seemed very clumsy. With twinkling eyes he turned from the window and happy about the fact that he had done something very good and right, he headed towards the Potion's dungeons, were he needed to meet Professor Snape to discuss the future of Slytherin House. Little did he know that something was just around the corner for them all.
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It seemed to be hours later, when they finally descended towards solid ground, but he didn't dare to be to optimistic, there were still 15 meters between him and safety. And he was even more relieved to be on the ground, because he feared that his headache would get worse. He had had terrible headaches before, but actually not since Draco and him had left the Malfoy's property. He looked over to the other teen and laughed, when he saw that Draco was still pulling some stunts. It seemed that he never grew tired of flying, Harry felt very bad, because he didn't share the blonde's enthusiasm about flying, but he felt it was an unnatural thing and was nothing he would call a hobby or something he liked.
His train of thoughts was interrupted by a feeling of uneasiness. He had a bad feeling, something was happening, but he did not know what. The air was buzzing, but it didn't feel exciting, but very, very …Well he couldn't really describe how it felt, the best way to name it was dark. And then the world was dark. He couldn't see anything, he only knew that his head felt as if it had exploded. He knew he was falling, although still clutching his broom. But he could do nothing to stop it, but cry out in agony, as he had never experienced before. He wanted to die and forget that anything could hurt like this, he wanted to rip off his head to ease the pain. But all he did, was screaming at the top of his lungs, although he did not know it, because he was gone from the world of thoughts.
Draco turned as soon as he heard the scream that told of pain beyond anything imaginable. His heart stopped beating for a second, when he saw that his friend was clutching his forehead while heading straight for the hard surface that would shatter his bones.
"HARRY! HARRY!", was all he could manage while he desperately made a dive straight for Harry. Before he was even close to catching him, he felt that something was coming towards him. It wasn't anything substantial, but was more like a foreboding of something bad. He tried to dodge the approaching curse, but it was hopeless. He had been much too preoccupied, with rescuing Harry. The curse hit him with full force in the back. He screamed in unison with his former enemy, but didn't feel like holding his head, but wanted to hold his whole body, it was on fire. He was falling, but couldn't do anything to stop it. All he wanted was to escape his body and to leave it alone with all the pain.
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Ron returned to the Common Room after his little visit of the extensive Hogwarts kitchen. It had taken longer than he had thought, but the little house elf Dobby, wouldn't let him go, without showing him his newest sock that he had received from the Headmaster. He had been so proud of this special honour that he took nearly half an hour to tell him all about the time when he had gotten it, but Ron didn't really listen, so he hoped that Hermione wouldn't ask, what kind of news he had from Dobby. Finally he reached the painting of the Fat Lady, only to meet Neville arguing with her.
"But, please, you know me, let me in!", he heard his friend plead.
"No, not if you do not have the password. I wouldn't be of good use, if I let everybody pass.", answered the lady in pink indignantly.
Ron cleared his throat and came to a halt next to the other Gryffindor.
"Neville, honestly are you telling me that you still can't remember the password? You are a seventh year! And you are a prefect now since Harry can't do it.", he had to clear his throat again after that. "Come on, you helped to choose it!"
"Hi Ron, I am so glad that you are here! I know what you mean, I know I should remember it, but I was thinking about that potion assignment, when Hermione asked me, what I thought about the new password. And now I have no idea what she said. I think it was something to eat, wasn't it? Or was it something in Latin? I have no idea."
"You are learning for potions, although school is not yet in session? That's sick. The password is Gryffindor's pride, in honour of Harry. You really should remember it, you have to set an example. Anyways let's get in.", with that he started to scramble through the whole in the wall in front of them. The painting had opened up silently as soon as he had said the right words. Neville gulped at the thought of being an example, but followed Ron quickly.
Once inside the cosy room he quickly scanned the room for Hermione. The Headgirl was sitting at the table next to the window, where he had left her to get the two of them some food. Actually he got food for himself, because Hermione had of course refused and said that she needed to learn and that he would become fat.
"Hey Mione, still reading History of Magic and not yet asleep? You're a marvel."
Hermione looked up and smiled at his comment. "Of course I am not asleep, it's actually really interesting. This Goblin rebellion actually influenced…Oh, but I guess you don't really care, do you?", she smiled at him, knowing after more than six years that he couldn't care less for this particular subject.
"No, really, it's not my thing. Do you want to do something fun for a change?", he looked hopefully at Hermione. It was really boring at Hogwarts. Many of the students were home to celebrate the new peace and the others were mostly learning for NEWTS or OWLS or grieving for lost family members. He didn't want to participate in anything of that and felt very lost without his best mate. He really missed Harry more than he would tell Hermione. She was her other best friend and he didn't want her to think that she wasn't enough for him.
Hermione on the other side looked knowingly at Ron, knowing that he needed to something fun for change and not her. If she could help him, she always would.
"Sure, we can do something what would you like to do?" Ron thought about it, but he had to admit, that he could think of nothing. "I don't now."
"Well what about chess?", asked Hermione calmly. Ron's eyes locked immediately at the chessboard that rested on the windowsill. One could see the pieces were still standing as in the middle of a game. The youngest Weasley boy hesitated. Nobody had moved the chessboard since over four weeks. It was only four weeks ago that he had played with his best friend, but it seemed to be longer. It had been the eve of the battle and Harry had wanted to forget the things that laid ahead. So they played, but not for long, Harry had been to distracted. Ron had put the board away, but had Harry promise that they would continue the game. All the while he had been terrified that he would never see his friend again. But now Harry was back, but Ron seriously doubted that they would play chess anytime soon. Why waiting?
"O.k. I get it." Hermione looked relieved and hoped that her red haired friend would enjoy playing with her almost as much as if with Harry. She jumped to her feet, when she heard Ron yell in fear. "What is it, Ron?"
"It's Harry and Malfoy! They were flying, I saw it just now, but they're both falling, we have to get there at once! Neville get Madam Pomfrey to Hagrid's hut." And at once he was out of the Common Room, Hermione needed a few more moments to progress the information, but once she did, she yelped and sprinted after her friend. Shortly later she could hear Neville's pounding footsteps that turned towards the Hospital Wing. She tried to catch up to Ron, but he was long gone and she could hear nothing, but her heart that was beating violently in her chest.
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Through all of his pain Harry could hear the faint voice of Draco, yelling for him and then screaming in agony. Suddenly the black curtain that had obscured his view lifted a little bit. He saw the ground racing towards him and pulled as fast as he could his broom up, it wasn't enough. He slowed down, but crashed into the ground. It was terribly painful, but he ground his teeth together and tried to fight the splitting headache and concentrate on Draco. He paled when he saw him racing towards the ground. Without thinking he drew his wand and yelled at the top of his lungs: "Cussinus!" The fall of the Slytherin was slowed, as he bounced off the invisible cushion, which disappeared instantly. Harry's spell hadn't been strong enough to last long, but had saved the Malfoy heir from an even worse fate. Draco was still writhing on the floor, his body shaken from an unknown pain.
Harry tried to crawl towards his friend, but he had used his last energy to cast the spell, a spell that he actually could not remember ever hearing before.
Now he felt dreadful and wished to escape the awful feeling of evil lurking nearby. They were lying close to the Forbidden Forest and Harry virtually felt the evil emanating from inside. Although he could not see anything, he knew that in the shelter of the forest evil was lurking, it felt like a concentration of darkness, which connected in a morbid way with the body of Draco Malfoy. Harry felt very sick at this new sensation and began retching painfully. The horrible pounding in his head prevented him from thinking clearly. He wanted to sink into blissful oblivion. But suddenly he became jolted back to reality. Draco's cries became even louder and Harry knew that he had to do something to help him. He concentrated once more on the accumulation of blackness. He did not know what it was, but it seemed to be the origin of pain. Harry's thoughts were incredibly slow, as if tied down, he knew pain was evil, therefore he needed to think of a way to get rid of the origin. He raised his hand in slow-motion towards the evil and yelled the first thing that came to his mind. "Expelliarmus!" All he could hear was a yell and a loud crack from the forest, but no sound from the Slytherin and finally allowed himself to surrender to unconsciousness.
To be continued…
Author's note:
Another chapter is out. I hope you all like it. A few new things a revealed. Harry doesn't like flying, and finally spoke again…Are you happy? By the way the whole attack lasted about four minutes. This will become clearer in the next chapter.
Oh, and I told you last time about the additional math test, which I choose to take…Well, I didn't pass it, but hey I've got my diploma! 13 years of constant nightmares are finally over. [School lasts 13 years in Germany…I didn't fail a class. :-)]
53 Reviews! Thank you so much! Please continue to comment! It's an enormous encouragement for me.
I want to thank all of you:
CuriousDreamWeaver: I am so glad that you thought everything came together nicely. I was so afraid that it would appear to be inconsistent.
Anonymous: I am glad that you decided to review.
Starbot: Thank you very much!
Coco Malfoy2: I am glad that you like my story, once again thank you for the nice offer.
Sabrith Alastar: I couldn't stop smiling after I read your review! Thank you for the compliment.
Angel74: You make me happy with every review. I am happy that you liked the Newspaper articles, I thought long about my possibilities to bring the outside view in. Well sometime not much happens in chapters. But I can promise you that many things lay ahead that Harry and Draco can't even begin to imagine. I blushed so hard, when I read that you thought that I was getting better at writing. That means so much to me!
Marenvs: O.k. I forgive you for not writing in English, but I wont answer you in German! I seem to have a soft spot for running scenes, don't I? It means so much that you, as one of my best friends, say that I have a talent for writing. You should marry me, honestly! A/N: Don't take everything seriously what the author is saying.
Curlytop: I laughed hard, when I read your review. That's Dumbledore in action, isn't he? I am very glad that you reviewed again [Keep doing that! :-)] and I hope I answered some of your questions.
SilverDragon161: Thanks! Some things Draco was able to figure out, but others…Stay tuned!
Dray FreakSun: Vielen Dank! Ich finde es toll, dass ich auch deutsche Leser habe. Ich habe mittlerweile eine tolle Beta, die mir sehr hilft mit dem englischen. Am Anfang war es ja nicht so toll. Naja, ich hoffe du wirst weiterhin meine Geschichte verfolgen. Und Glückwunsch zum Abi.
John Allerdyce: Thanks. I am always glad about every little encouragement.
Wynjara: Yeah, you got it. Chaos lays ahead. One should never say something like that, right? :-)