Chapter Seventeen
Draco's gaze narrowed to the only person that was worth staring at in the room, the one who had his undivided attention. All became hopelessly blurred; voices that were only a moment ago raised in outrage were all but extinguished in the presence of his enemy. The world around him had been effectively silenced so that the only thing that remained in sharp Technicolor focus was the best friend of the boy he despised over all others.
Ron Weasley.
Malfoy had yet to move from his position on the floor, the very spot where he had fallen after being punched by said Weasley. Hell, he knew he was surrounded by the whole Weasley clan. He wasn't exactly pleased to be there, but they meant nothing to him compared to the boy who stood poised before him. This was the only Weasley who had the power to make his blood boil. The veins in his neck throbbed with the need to bruise, to punish, and to get back at the redhead any damn way possible.
Ron loomed boldly over the defeated Malfoy. How he cherished this change of position. Normally it was him that had the rotten luck. Then again Malfoy was without the protection of Goon One and Goon Two, so perhaps that had a lot to do with his victory. He'd finally gotten one over the nasty worm and it felt darn good to put him in his place, at his feet no less.
Ron's somewhat lingering gaze was interrupted by the disturbingly erotic implication of his imagination. Draco at his mercy and on his knees before him. He had to admit he kinda liked the thought of that. The curse of possessing such a perverted mind, however, made him feel quite ill in respect to Malfoy.
Draco watched as the blush crept up Ron's neck and suffused his cheeks. He practically gleamed at the redhead as he leant back, neck arched, his arms supporting his weight. A trickle of blood spilled over his lip and instead of bringing up his hand to wipe it away, Draco swiped lazily at the droplet with his tongue. He froze when he caught Weasley watching him intently, those eyes lost in the movement.
Ron blinked. Fuck! He then started to panic. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?" he demanded somewhat raggedly.
Draco grinned; Ron's reaction was... intriguing and he intended to file it away for further perusal when all of this was over with. Instead, he arched an eyebrow in remark to Weasley's question.
Ron growled, turning his back on the Slytherin and facing his elder brother.
"Charlie, why is he here? What the hell is a Malfoy doing in our house?" Ron gritted his teeth; he was shamefully close to losing it altogether and in front of his entire family. Charlie flinched at the pain evident in every tensed muscle; all he wanted to do was hug his youngest brother because he knew it would undoubtedly get worse.
Molly subsequently rocketed out of her chair by the distress in her son's voice; she couldn't tolerate seeing her baby boy in such pain.
Arthur reached for his wife, patting her hand he guided her back down into the chair. She gave him a half smile in return and placed her small hand over his before turning back to her son.
"Dear, if you sit down your father could tell you... and your sister naturally, why Draco is here with us."
Ron took a steadying breath, nodding his head he side-stepped Malfoy without giving him a second glance. Pulling up a chair next to George, Ron sat, arms crossed firmly over his chest.
"Okay mum." He murmured, careful only to look at his parents.
A flicker of a smile ghosted across Molly's face before she turned to her husband.
"Arthur?"
"Yes, of course." He coughed, making room for his daughter to sit beside him.
Ginny sat very still, her hands clasped in her lap. Bill smiled at her from across the table; she tried to smile back at him but failed miserably.
"While I tell Ron and Ginny the story, I'd appreciate if the rest of you would keep your comments to the end."
A series of grunts echoed around the room. Draco almost laughed at the absurdity of it, but he quickly sobered, conscious it was his secret's Mr Weasley was about to spill, and to one of the golden trio in particular. As soon as this good ol' natter was over with, Ron would be sending his ruddy owl off to Potter and Granger to reveal every gory detail. It would only be a matter of time before they kicked him out of Slytherin and possibly even the school.
"Alright then, if you are all settled? Last week Narcissa Malfoy came to the Burr..."
"No!" screamed Draco, leaping up from the floor and smashing his fist down on the table. "If anyone is going to tell this story, it'll be me."
Sniggers rose up from around the room; he glared murderously at the whole bloody lot of them. "You think this is funny? You're worthless, the lot of you. Everyone simpers on how understanding your family is...it's all a sodding lie."
Both the twins turned to each other in mock dismay before bursting into a fit of laughter. "You don't deserve anyone's sympathy you little twat. You've been nothing but a nasty cretin from the day you could open your gob. How dare you!"
"That's quite enough!" Arthur roared, as he shot to his feet. He pointed at the twins.
"Besides Malfoy, what would you know about 'understanding'? Our parents have taken you in, they didn't even hesitate when your mum..."
"You two will both go upstairs this instant." Arthur seethed. They still hadn't moved a moment later. "Did you hear what I said?" he roared.
"Yes father." they chorused, eyes downcast. "We just wanted to see Ronnikins give Malfoy one more smack on the mouth."
"Out!" Molly hissed, "Both of you."
George and Fred trudged up the stairs. They were bummed they'd miss out on the guaranteed clash between their brother and the snotty git, but to get on the wrong side of their parents wasn't worth the hassle.
Charlie took George's seat at the table. Ron made damn sure to ignore him; he wasn't exactly pleased that Charlie hadn't warned him about Malfoy before they'd arrived at the Burrow, and he certainly wasn't sure he wanted to know what was going on now that he was here.
Malfoy paced in front of them. Molly attempted to get him to sit but he snubbed her request, shrinking away from her touch as if it repulsed him.
Ron watched the hurt flicker over his mother's face and he wanted nothing more than too break Malfoy all over again. Why were his parents letting this poor excuse for a human being into their home?
"Get on with it Malfoy. I for one have better things to do then listen to you prattle on just because you love the sound of your own voice."
Malfoy halted in mid-step and gave Ron a withering look.
"Patience Ron. I'm composing myself."
Ron snorted, rolling his eyes at the friggin' drama queen in his living room.
"Making up some preposterous story in order to finesse your way into my family, more like it," he grumbled to himself.
Draco cleared his throat, ignoring Ron's flawed intuition.
"In the summer break before the school year started, my mother told me I wasn't her son, not her biological child anyhow." Draco paused to glance over at Ron, the redheads brow was furrowed, his eyes flashed with a kind of wariness.
"I was... devastated; I had no idea. It's taken me awhile to accept it and I'm still coming to terms with the truth..."
"This explains some of your weird behaviour since the beginning of the year." Ron interrupted.
Draco nodded, exhaling shakily. "My parents had been married for nearly three years and in all that time my mother had failed to produce an heir for the Malfoy line, much to his considerable fury." Draco hesitated, watching a log in the fireplace collapse as it turned to ash. He moved closer and held out his hands towards the flames, hoping to steal some of its warmth.
"He was never around, my father, so deeply entrenched in the Dark Lord's circle, that when two stupid muggles wandered onto the property and took up residence in one of the abandoned gazebos on the fringe of the estate. He had no idea. She was aware of them; all sorts of alarms are breached when anyone tries to enter the Malfoy estate without permission. So instead of alerting him to the possible danger, she insanely let them stay. My mother told me it amused her to watch them and their simple life, so unlike her own. You see she was rather starved for company, being alone in the mansion for months at a time without father. The muggles didn't know she was spying on them, well not at first."
Draco finally sat down on the floor, cross-legged in front of the fireplace, back turned to his audience.
"The woman, she was heavily pregnant and in need of the kind of care my mother could never have given her. But my mother fancied herself as having somewhat of a flair for anything she put her mind too. Unfortunately, my father told me when I was little of how he consistently had to replace plants and animals that she had forgotten about and had died from her so called 'care'."
"My mother, yes, and I can't even claim that...anymore, can I?" Draco whispered to himself, before falling silent.
Ron was angry he was so riveted by the boy huddled next to his open fire; he appeared so small next to those deadly flames. They seemed to lick at his hair, at the hem of his robes as if they could taste him. How anyone could bare to be that close to the insufferable heat, was beyond him. Not to flinch at every fiendish crackle as yet another log was pulverized under the influence of that blaze. He had to remind himself that this was a Slytherin and none of them were exactly known for feeling anything, especially a cold-hearted descendant of the Malfoy clan.
Ron caught Charlie staring at him and glared back at his brother.
"What?" He muttered, embarrassed that he'd been caught staring again.
Charlie shook his head at his youngest brother. Ron recognized the emotion before his brother turned away, but who was he grieving for?
Malfoy?
Without warning Draco recovered from whatever depression had settled upon him, shaking off the inertia like water he continued.
"Mother took the woman into the main house, kept her like a treasured pet. They had tea parties, and even attempted to knit such muggle things as booties. The man was not so easily taken in and was forever cautious of her motives, although appreciative of her kindness. He stayed close to his pregnant wife up until the night she went into labour."
A branch fizzled in the fireplace. A hail of sparks rocketed out of the grate, a few landed on Draco's immaculate robes. He didn't even attempt to brush them off. Ron thought perhaps he wanted them, encouraged them even, to do their worst.
"He panicked when my mother said there was no need for a doctor. Lucius and his impeccable timing, apparated in the middle of the labour, promptly assessed the situation and took control. House elves that had been ordered to stay hidden from the muggles were summoned to assist in the birth. The man was horrified, these skinny creatures with the huge ears and enormous features poking at his wife while she lay helpless. He flew into a rage but a flick of Lucius' wand fixed that. It was only because the baby's head started to crown at that precise moment, which saved the man's life. Mother said she wasn't sure if he escaped or got lost on the estate somewhere and died. All they knew is he was never found."
Ron listened in silence; he wasn't sure how he was supposed to react to all of this.
"After I was born and lay shivering in Lucius' palm, all hell broke loose. He was instantly blinded by the woman's blonde hair, much like his own and he quickly saw the chance to redeem the family name and finally have an heir. She pleaded with him to let her hold her child. She was shrieking, hysterical, her hands outstretched to hold me and instead he ended her life."
Ron refused to listen to any more of this.
"You expect us to sit here and listen, to believe this...this hogwash. I know you Malfoy, don't think I don't. I've had first hand knowledge of your lies, your deceit. This has to be your best performance yet."
Draco rushed to his feet and stood over Ron, indignant that he was being challenged.
"I'm not lying." He snarled, furious.
"Oh purrlease, every word you've uttered is ludicrous." Ron sneered back at being faced with those stormy eyes. He got to his own feet and continued the pitiful staring match with the Slytherin.
"It's all true...Ron." Draco countered; they were almost nose to nose.
"Rubbish! Basically, what you are saying is that your parents are muggles? If so, how can you possibly be enrolled at Hogwarts?"
"I was getting to that."
Molly felt the need to intervene. "Please Ron, let him finish?"
Ron turned on his mother. "How could you?" he stopped. "Fine!" but he was done with being seated. If Malfoy insisted on continuing this charade then he could golly well deal with him breathing down his neck.
Draco watched the exchange between mother and son; he found that he was quite jealous of their closeness. Ron may be pissed right now, but he still obviously worshipped her. The jury was still out on how he felt about Narcissa, the woman he had always known as his mother only to find she wasn't even related to him.
"As soon as Lucius disposed of the woman's body he took me to Voldemort. He swore his undying allegiance to that man and he in return gave him a son to be proud of that day. He changed me from a muggle child into a wizard using some of the darkest magic imaginable. So dark in fact that it's mark is scorched upon Lucius' soul, as well as my own. I am his property and when I come of age I will be called to fulfil my destiny, as was pledged that goddamn day."
Draco fell silent; his eyes never wavered from Ron's. There was no icy sneer upon his lips; there was no emotion left, for he felt drained of any such burden.
Ron was struck mute, thrown by Draco's words. He wasn't certain he was to be believed. It would be just like a Malfoy to bamboozle them with a tall tale and then laugh hysterically on how simple the Weasley family was. How easy they could all be fooled. How pathetically naïve, unsophisticated, deficient, irksome...
Ron had never felt so mixed up about anything before. Goddamn Malfoy for once again taking pride of place in his world as the enigma. He still hated him though. A life times worth of abuse could never be forgiven so lightly, if ever.
He hadn't realized he'd been staring at Draco for the past few minutes until Charlie's hand settled lightly on his shoulder. Ron blinked over at his brother until the fog receded from around his brain and he could move away from the source of his puzzlement.
Draco watched as Ron walked away from him, turned from him without saying a word and fled out the same door he'd come in not long ago.
Once outside, Ron felt he could suddenly breathe again. He took large gulps of bitterly cold air into his lungs; it seemed to stabilize the confusing thoughts spinning in his head. He could clearly make out his footprints in the snow, the ones that led from the family car to the house. If only he had the power to retrace those steps so that he could remain blissfully ignorant of everything Malfoy had just told him.
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Draco's gaze narrowed to the only person that was worth staring at in the room, the one who had his undivided attention. All became hopelessly blurred; voices that were only a moment ago raised in outrage were all but extinguished in the presence of his enemy. The world around him had been effectively silenced so that the only thing that remained in sharp Technicolor focus was the best friend of the boy he despised over all others.
Ron Weasley.
Malfoy had yet to move from his position on the floor, the very spot where he had fallen after being punched by said Weasley. Hell, he knew he was surrounded by the whole Weasley clan. He wasn't exactly pleased to be there, but they meant nothing to him compared to the boy who stood poised before him. This was the only Weasley who had the power to make his blood boil. The veins in his neck throbbed with the need to bruise, to punish, and to get back at the redhead any damn way possible.
Ron loomed boldly over the defeated Malfoy. How he cherished this change of position. Normally it was him that had the rotten luck. Then again Malfoy was without the protection of Goon One and Goon Two, so perhaps that had a lot to do with his victory. He'd finally gotten one over the nasty worm and it felt darn good to put him in his place, at his feet no less.
Ron's somewhat lingering gaze was interrupted by the disturbingly erotic implication of his imagination. Draco at his mercy and on his knees before him. He had to admit he kinda liked the thought of that. The curse of possessing such a perverted mind, however, made him feel quite ill in respect to Malfoy.
Draco watched as the blush crept up Ron's neck and suffused his cheeks. He practically gleamed at the redhead as he leant back, neck arched, his arms supporting his weight. A trickle of blood spilled over his lip and instead of bringing up his hand to wipe it away, Draco swiped lazily at the droplet with his tongue. He froze when he caught Weasley watching him intently, those eyes lost in the movement.
Ron blinked. Fuck! He then started to panic. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?" he demanded somewhat raggedly.
Draco grinned; Ron's reaction was... intriguing and he intended to file it away for further perusal when all of this was over with. Instead, he arched an eyebrow in remark to Weasley's question.
Ron growled, turning his back on the Slytherin and facing his elder brother.
"Charlie, why is he here? What the hell is a Malfoy doing in our house?" Ron gritted his teeth; he was shamefully close to losing it altogether and in front of his entire family. Charlie flinched at the pain evident in every tensed muscle; all he wanted to do was hug his youngest brother because he knew it would undoubtedly get worse.
Molly subsequently rocketed out of her chair by the distress in her son's voice; she couldn't tolerate seeing her baby boy in such pain.
Arthur reached for his wife, patting her hand he guided her back down into the chair. She gave him a half smile in return and placed her small hand over his before turning back to her son.
"Dear, if you sit down your father could tell you... and your sister naturally, why Draco is here with us."
Ron took a steadying breath, nodding his head he side-stepped Malfoy without giving him a second glance. Pulling up a chair next to George, Ron sat, arms crossed firmly over his chest.
"Okay mum." He murmured, careful only to look at his parents.
A flicker of a smile ghosted across Molly's face before she turned to her husband.
"Arthur?"
"Yes, of course." He coughed, making room for his daughter to sit beside him.
Ginny sat very still, her hands clasped in her lap. Bill smiled at her from across the table; she tried to smile back at him but failed miserably.
"While I tell Ron and Ginny the story, I'd appreciate if the rest of you would keep your comments to the end."
A series of grunts echoed around the room. Draco almost laughed at the absurdity of it, but he quickly sobered, conscious it was his secret's Mr Weasley was about to spill, and to one of the golden trio in particular. As soon as this good ol' natter was over with, Ron would be sending his ruddy owl off to Potter and Granger to reveal every gory detail. It would only be a matter of time before they kicked him out of Slytherin and possibly even the school.
"Alright then, if you are all settled? Last week Narcissa Malfoy came to the Burr..."
"No!" screamed Draco, leaping up from the floor and smashing his fist down on the table. "If anyone is going to tell this story, it'll be me."
Sniggers rose up from around the room; he glared murderously at the whole bloody lot of them. "You think this is funny? You're worthless, the lot of you. Everyone simpers on how understanding your family is...it's all a sodding lie."
Both the twins turned to each other in mock dismay before bursting into a fit of laughter. "You don't deserve anyone's sympathy you little twat. You've been nothing but a nasty cretin from the day you could open your gob. How dare you!"
"That's quite enough!" Arthur roared, as he shot to his feet. He pointed at the twins.
"Besides Malfoy, what would you know about 'understanding'? Our parents have taken you in, they didn't even hesitate when your mum..."
"You two will both go upstairs this instant." Arthur seethed. They still hadn't moved a moment later. "Did you hear what I said?" he roared.
"Yes father." they chorused, eyes downcast. "We just wanted to see Ronnikins give Malfoy one more smack on the mouth."
"Out!" Molly hissed, "Both of you."
George and Fred trudged up the stairs. They were bummed they'd miss out on the guaranteed clash between their brother and the snotty git, but to get on the wrong side of their parents wasn't worth the hassle.
Charlie took George's seat at the table. Ron made damn sure to ignore him; he wasn't exactly pleased that Charlie hadn't warned him about Malfoy before they'd arrived at the Burrow, and he certainly wasn't sure he wanted to know what was going on now that he was here.
Malfoy paced in front of them. Molly attempted to get him to sit but he snubbed her request, shrinking away from her touch as if it repulsed him.
Ron watched the hurt flicker over his mother's face and he wanted nothing more than too break Malfoy all over again. Why were his parents letting this poor excuse for a human being into their home?
"Get on with it Malfoy. I for one have better things to do then listen to you prattle on just because you love the sound of your own voice."
Malfoy halted in mid-step and gave Ron a withering look.
"Patience Ron. I'm composing myself."
Ron snorted, rolling his eyes at the friggin' drama queen in his living room.
"Making up some preposterous story in order to finesse your way into my family, more like it," he grumbled to himself.
Draco cleared his throat, ignoring Ron's flawed intuition.
"In the summer break before the school year started, my mother told me I wasn't her son, not her biological child anyhow." Draco paused to glance over at Ron, the redheads brow was furrowed, his eyes flashed with a kind of wariness.
"I was... devastated; I had no idea. It's taken me awhile to accept it and I'm still coming to terms with the truth..."
"This explains some of your weird behaviour since the beginning of the year." Ron interrupted.
Draco nodded, exhaling shakily. "My parents had been married for nearly three years and in all that time my mother had failed to produce an heir for the Malfoy line, much to his considerable fury." Draco hesitated, watching a log in the fireplace collapse as it turned to ash. He moved closer and held out his hands towards the flames, hoping to steal some of its warmth.
"He was never around, my father, so deeply entrenched in the Dark Lord's circle, that when two stupid muggles wandered onto the property and took up residence in one of the abandoned gazebos on the fringe of the estate. He had no idea. She was aware of them; all sorts of alarms are breached when anyone tries to enter the Malfoy estate without permission. So instead of alerting him to the possible danger, she insanely let them stay. My mother told me it amused her to watch them and their simple life, so unlike her own. You see she was rather starved for company, being alone in the mansion for months at a time without father. The muggles didn't know she was spying on them, well not at first."
Draco finally sat down on the floor, cross-legged in front of the fireplace, back turned to his audience.
"The woman, she was heavily pregnant and in need of the kind of care my mother could never have given her. But my mother fancied herself as having somewhat of a flair for anything she put her mind too. Unfortunately, my father told me when I was little of how he consistently had to replace plants and animals that she had forgotten about and had died from her so called 'care'."
"My mother, yes, and I can't even claim that...anymore, can I?" Draco whispered to himself, before falling silent.
Ron was angry he was so riveted by the boy huddled next to his open fire; he appeared so small next to those deadly flames. They seemed to lick at his hair, at the hem of his robes as if they could taste him. How anyone could bare to be that close to the insufferable heat, was beyond him. Not to flinch at every fiendish crackle as yet another log was pulverized under the influence of that blaze. He had to remind himself that this was a Slytherin and none of them were exactly known for feeling anything, especially a cold-hearted descendant of the Malfoy clan.
Ron caught Charlie staring at him and glared back at his brother.
"What?" He muttered, embarrassed that he'd been caught staring again.
Charlie shook his head at his youngest brother. Ron recognized the emotion before his brother turned away, but who was he grieving for?
Malfoy?
Without warning Draco recovered from whatever depression had settled upon him, shaking off the inertia like water he continued.
"Mother took the woman into the main house, kept her like a treasured pet. They had tea parties, and even attempted to knit such muggle things as booties. The man was not so easily taken in and was forever cautious of her motives, although appreciative of her kindness. He stayed close to his pregnant wife up until the night she went into labour."
A branch fizzled in the fireplace. A hail of sparks rocketed out of the grate, a few landed on Draco's immaculate robes. He didn't even attempt to brush them off. Ron thought perhaps he wanted them, encouraged them even, to do their worst.
"He panicked when my mother said there was no need for a doctor. Lucius and his impeccable timing, apparated in the middle of the labour, promptly assessed the situation and took control. House elves that had been ordered to stay hidden from the muggles were summoned to assist in the birth. The man was horrified, these skinny creatures with the huge ears and enormous features poking at his wife while she lay helpless. He flew into a rage but a flick of Lucius' wand fixed that. It was only because the baby's head started to crown at that precise moment, which saved the man's life. Mother said she wasn't sure if he escaped or got lost on the estate somewhere and died. All they knew is he was never found."
Ron listened in silence; he wasn't sure how he was supposed to react to all of this.
"After I was born and lay shivering in Lucius' palm, all hell broke loose. He was instantly blinded by the woman's blonde hair, much like his own and he quickly saw the chance to redeem the family name and finally have an heir. She pleaded with him to let her hold her child. She was shrieking, hysterical, her hands outstretched to hold me and instead he ended her life."
Ron refused to listen to any more of this.
"You expect us to sit here and listen, to believe this...this hogwash. I know you Malfoy, don't think I don't. I've had first hand knowledge of your lies, your deceit. This has to be your best performance yet."
Draco rushed to his feet and stood over Ron, indignant that he was being challenged.
"I'm not lying." He snarled, furious.
"Oh purrlease, every word you've uttered is ludicrous." Ron sneered back at being faced with those stormy eyes. He got to his own feet and continued the pitiful staring match with the Slytherin.
"It's all true...Ron." Draco countered; they were almost nose to nose.
"Rubbish! Basically, what you are saying is that your parents are muggles? If so, how can you possibly be enrolled at Hogwarts?"
"I was getting to that."
Molly felt the need to intervene. "Please Ron, let him finish?"
Ron turned on his mother. "How could you?" he stopped. "Fine!" but he was done with being seated. If Malfoy insisted on continuing this charade then he could golly well deal with him breathing down his neck.
Draco watched the exchange between mother and son; he found that he was quite jealous of their closeness. Ron may be pissed right now, but he still obviously worshipped her. The jury was still out on how he felt about Narcissa, the woman he had always known as his mother only to find she wasn't even related to him.
"As soon as Lucius disposed of the woman's body he took me to Voldemort. He swore his undying allegiance to that man and he in return gave him a son to be proud of that day. He changed me from a muggle child into a wizard using some of the darkest magic imaginable. So dark in fact that it's mark is scorched upon Lucius' soul, as well as my own. I am his property and when I come of age I will be called to fulfil my destiny, as was pledged that goddamn day."
Draco fell silent; his eyes never wavered from Ron's. There was no icy sneer upon his lips; there was no emotion left, for he felt drained of any such burden.
Ron was struck mute, thrown by Draco's words. He wasn't certain he was to be believed. It would be just like a Malfoy to bamboozle them with a tall tale and then laugh hysterically on how simple the Weasley family was. How easy they could all be fooled. How pathetically naïve, unsophisticated, deficient, irksome...
Ron had never felt so mixed up about anything before. Goddamn Malfoy for once again taking pride of place in his world as the enigma. He still hated him though. A life times worth of abuse could never be forgiven so lightly, if ever.
He hadn't realized he'd been staring at Draco for the past few minutes until Charlie's hand settled lightly on his shoulder. Ron blinked over at his brother until the fog receded from around his brain and he could move away from the source of his puzzlement.
Draco watched as Ron walked away from him, turned from him without saying a word and fled out the same door he'd come in not long ago.
Once outside, Ron felt he could suddenly breathe again. He took large gulps of bitterly cold air into his lungs; it seemed to stabilize the confusing thoughts spinning in his head. He could clearly make out his footprints in the snow, the ones that led from the family car to the house. If only he had the power to retrace those steps so that he could remain blissfully ignorant of everything Malfoy had just told him.
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