Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all its affiliations belong, not to me, but to J.K. Rowling. So as much as I would like to take the credit for such genius...well...you know. I only own the story and my original characters.
Chapter 2: Full Moon
"Where are Ron and Hermione?" Lupin asked. Harry jerked a finger over his shoulder, indicating the garden. He saw Moody's eye twist in that direction, apparently looking through the door, and the old Auror grunted.
Tala, not having the advantage of a magical eye, looked out the window. Upon seeing the scene that Harry and Ginny had left, she said, "That's sweet." With an odd little smile. The rest of them were sitting around the kitchen table, having tea and discussing that which was safe to discuss. Tala was sitting next to Lupin, who was looking pale.
"Why are we going to Diagon Alley tomorrow?" Ginny asked, trying to change the subject before she dissolved once again into giggles.
"You need your new supplies, don't you?" Moody said bluntly. "Didn't forget your book lists?"
"No," Harry said. "I think I may, actually...." He rummaged in one of his pockets, finally producing a somewhat crumpled Hogwarts letter. "Yeah, here it is." He looked over it, scowling slightly as he read his booklist. "Wait, this can't be right."
"What is it?" Lupin asked curiously.
"I have books listed here for NEWT level Potions. But I only got an Exceeds Expectations in the practical examination, and Professor McGonagall told me Snape doesn't accept anyone who gets below an Outstanding." He said, scratching his head.
"May I?" Lupin said, and Harry handed over the parchment. His former DADA professor looked over them, his lined brow furrowing. "Not a bad turnout on your OWLs Harry." He commented. "The enclosed note says you are looking to become an Auror?"
"Well, yeah." Harry shrugged.
Moody and Lupin exchanged looks. "It's a noble profession." Lupin said finally. "And I think you have the makings of a good one." Moody grunted in what may have been agreement.
"Thanks Professor." Harry said, flushing at the looks of admiration from Tala and Ginny. "I figure if I live, I can..." He trailed off at the looks on their faces. "I mean..." He looked around desperately, then stood up abruptly. "Excuse me." He fled up the stairs.
He collapsed facedown on the bed of the first room he came to, covering his head with his arms. He couldn't believe he just said that. Sure, he could think it in the dark corners of his mind; those shadows where he turned over and over again the fact that in order to bring an end to this war, he must kill or die. But to say it aloud. He didn't want to feel their pitying looks, he didn't want them to know how scared he was. He was supposed to be the brave one. Or, as Hermione often told him, he was the one playing the hero. Playing the Hero.
He gritted his teeth and rolled over, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. The last time he had played the hero he had lost the one most precious to him. And now, knowing that he would have to do it at least one more time, he wondered how many more lives that would cost. If he could have arranged a single meeting, he and Voldemort, live or die, just the two of them, then he would go gladly, and vow to take Voldemort down and/or lose his life trying.
But he knew one thing, that there was no way that Voldemort, or even his friends, would allow that. Voldemort would want his minions nearby to see his moment of triumph. Harry's friends would want to be by his side, faithful to the end. And that was just what he was afraid of.
The door creaked open, and he thought of feigning sleep but knew it was too late. He looked over the side of the bed and saw Ginny standing there, uncertain. "Harry." She said quietly. "You're going to live." And then she turned and vanished down the hall.
For some reason that made Harry feel better. He just hoped it was true.
When he came down sometime later, lured by the scents of dinner, he saw that Ron and Hermione had returned from the garden. Hermione had a peculiar looking little smile on her face while Ron just grinned goofily.
"Hey, Harry." Ron said, still grinning. "Try some of this." He pointed at one of the dishes.
Harry glanced at Lupin, who smiled at him. He let out a relieved smile of his own and sat down, pulling the dish forward and beginning to pile food onto his plate. He should have known that they wouldn't say anything to Ron and Hermione, both of whom, he knew, would be horrified. He didn't like keeping things from his best friends, but some things were best kept to oneself.
Harry lay in the soft, warm, slightly worn bed reading one of his Quidditch books as he tried to get to sleep. Ron was snoring softly in the bed next to his and even the giggles emanating from the girl's room across the hall had died down. He finally threw the book down on his nightstand, set his glasses on it and rolled over, punching his pillow. This only gave minimal satisfaction, however.
Finally, giving up on sleep for the time being, he sat up, and, putting his glasses back on, swung his legs out of bed, pulled on his dressing gown and made his way out of the room, a half-formed notion of warm milk forming in his sleep deprived mind.
Harry stumbled down the stairs, yawning and rumpling his hair. The floor was cold and he wished he had thought to put on his slippers. This, however, did have the added effect of waking him a bit more. He moved into the kitchen, wondering how, in this wizarding house, one was supposed to make some warm milk without magic. However, a moment later this was forgotten. A sliver of light appeared as though from an opening door from a lighted room. It shone directly into Harry's eyes, making him blink and turn.
It was indeed a door, he now saw. One that he had not noticed before. A couple of seconds later he saw why. This door had been covered by a cabinet, which swung out as the door was opened. At this point Harry's sleepiness completely left him and his natural curiosity kicked in. The milk forgotten, he moved to the door and peered in the crack. All that greeted his eyes was a stone staircase spiraling downwards. Blinking in the light of the flickering torches that lit the way, he eased the door open a bit more. It didn't even squeak, which suggested to him that this doorway was regularly used. Without even thinking about it, he eased the door open a bit more, just enough so he could slip through.
The stone stairs were so cold that he felt as though his feet were freezing, but the torches warmed the air sufficiently to burn off the chill. He eased down the steps, pausing every few moments to see if he could hear anything or anyone moving. Then, suddenly, there was a door at the bottom of the stair. It too, was slightly open. And as he watched as shadow nudged the door open a bit more and looked up at him with green eyes that glowed in the darkness.
Then it hit Harry like a blow to the stomach. It was full moon. That was why he hadn't needed a candle as he moved down to the kitchen. The light of the moon had filled the house. With a strangled yell, he backed back up the stairs, trying not to provoke the tawny wolf still standing before him. It looked almost as startled to see him as he to see it. It shouldered the door shut behind it and rushed up the stairs after Harry, and he could hear a low growl behind him.
As he fled he could swear he felt its warm breath warming his chilled feet and hear it panting as it chased him up the stairs. He expected to feel the tearing of teeth at any moment, condemning him to the life of a werewolf, shunned and feared. He darted through the door behind the cabinet, and skidded to a stop, taking a few running steps back to slam it closed. But before he did, the tawny shadow slid through the opening and stood again before him, its green eyes catching the light of the moon. Its mouth was open and its tongue was hanging over gleaming white, sharp teeth.
Harry thought about bellowing for help, but he was sure that the creature could work its curse on him long before anyone could make it down the stairs and to his aid. He didn't want to startle it into leaping at him. And as luck would have it, he had left his wand on his table next to 'Quidditch through the Ages.' His eyes darted around for escape routes, thinking if he could get far enough away from it he may be able to come back and maybe lock it out of the house.
But the wolf was not making any move towards him, it was merely standing there, looking at him almost expectantly. Why expectantly? He looked at it closer, focusing on the pupil of the eye, the shape of the muzzle, the tail... He gulped, almost relieved. This wasn't a werewolf.
Harry stopped cringing and stood up as the wolf sat on its haunches, its head tilted to the side. "You're just a wolf." He said, then felt a little silly. He forgot this though, when the wolf shimmered peculiarly and changed. It was Tala, her green eyes catching the light of the moon and her face distinctly un-amused.
"Not exactly 'just a wolf' Harry." She said coolly, turning to the cabinet behind her and shutting it firmly. He heard it catch with a loud click. Then she turned back to the young wizard, her eyes still cool and her arms folded across her chest. "And I truly wish you hadn't 've seen that." She sighed and moved to the kitchen table, pulling out her wand. Harry tensed, but she only used it to set the teapot boiling and to move it and a tea tray to the table. She glanced up at him, and a rueful smile twisted her mouth. "Take a seat, Harry, and relax. I'm not angry, just upset."
He watched her from his chair as she moved restlessly around the kitchen. Finally, she located a box of biscuits and moved it to the table as well, then poured a cup of tea for herself and for Harry. She seemed as though she didn't know what to say. She looked at him over the rim of her teacup as she took a sip, then set it down with another audible sigh. "As I'm sure you've deduced Harry, I am an animagus." She looked away, and he saw she was looking out the window at the full moon. "And now you are one of only a limited number of people who know this." She pushed the box of biscuits towards him. "Have one." He complied.
"The place where I grew up was a haven of sorts for werewolves. My parents are researchers, like me, and we are looking for a cure."
"Have you...?" He asked.
"Our latest potion makes the transfigurations easier, and helps them to keep their own mind, and health, but still we keep looking." She replied. "It is a vast improvement, but..." She trailed off with a helpless gesture. "Anyways, as I was saying, Stepenwolv Research Facility is a place where werewolves are accepted as full members of a community. While I was growing up, most of my friends were werewolves. I've always loved wolves, but wasn't quite nuts enough to be willingly bitten. So instead I became an animagus." She set down her teacup and leaned back in her chair, glancing at the cabinet that concealed the door that led to Remus as she drummed her fingers on the table. "We don't have to register in the States, but over here..." Again the helpless gesture. "And wolves are not well-thought-of animagi forms." She picked up her tea, and took a few more sips. "I have to ask you, Harry, not to tell anyone about this. I know you are a trustworthy young man, so I'll trust your word if you give it."
He didn't even have to think it over. "I won't tell anyone, Tala." He assured her. She reached over and squeezed his hand.
"Thank you, Harry." She smiled. She stood and levitated the dirty dishes to the sink. "Now you must go to bed, Harry. We have a lot to do tomorrow, and I want to get back to Remus." Harry was looking straight in her eyes as she said his former professor's name, and he wasn't hard pressed to define the expression he saw there. He contemplated it as he turned and moved up the stairs, he thought about it as he removed his dressing gown and glasses and snuggled himself beneath the covers. It was love, pure love. Harry closed his eyes as Durry came down and snuggled between his cheek and shoulder. Then, with his little pet's strange purring in his ears, he fell asleep, a blessedly dreamless sleep.
The next morning saw them sorting through their trunks for some muggle clothes to wear on their trip and while they were in America. They would be purchasing some everyday robes to wear as well. Hermione was positively excited to be able to obtain some non-school robes. Lupin, as soon as he had had breakfast and was nearly his old self again, had rummaged in the attic and found some old, and slightly musty, duffle bags with enchanted interiors so that didn't have to lug around their trunks. Anything they didn't take would remain at his home until they returned. Even Hermione decided that the duffel bag would be more convenient than the muggle luggage she had used on her vacations in the previous years. She was still busily piling all her books in when the rest of them were ready to leave for Diagon Alley. Tala and Moody would be accompanying them while Remus would be staying home to get the rest of his strength back.
"C'mon Hermione," They could hear Ginny saying from they were waiting in the kitchen. "You can finish later. Anyways, you're going to have even more to pack when we get back." Apparently, Hermione saw the point of the girl's arguments, for soon she was coming down the stairs accompanied by the red-head, pulling her robes on over a green jumper and tartan skirt.
"How are we getting there, anyway, Professor Moody?" Ron asked. He was so tall now that he was nearly on eye level with the gnarled old Auror. He seemed rather uncomfortable by this new arrangement, and often tried to duck when Moody's magical eye was turned on him.
"For the last time boy," Moody said grumpily, "Call me Mad-Eye or Moody. I wasn't your professor and you know it." He glared at Ron, who looked like he wanted to hide behind something. Moody seemed satisfied by this reaction and turned to the question. "Floo network isn't safe, neither are broomsticks. The Knight Bus is too unreliable and you are too young to Apparate, so Dumbledore charged us a Port-Key to get us there, and another to get us back."
"We will, however, be taking our broomsticks to the Landing. We're going to need them once we hit the States." Lupin interjected. He caught Tala's hand as she tried to pile more food on his plate, and brought it to his lips. She seemed flustered and Harry thought that it was a clever way to get her to stop hovering like a mother hen. She had already taken his former professor's temperature twice, checked his pulse, measured his blood-pressure and examined his eyes. Lupin had endured it all with a small amused smile. But even he had his limit of patience.
"Are we ready then?" Moody said, a flicker of a smile playing across his slash of a mouth. Nods all around. "Fine, you know the drill." And everyone crowded around, Remus taking the time to give Tala a kiss before he stood back and let her join the others. They each lay a finger on the battered and splintered bludger bat that Moody had produced from somewhere within his robes. Harry winced as he now felt that familiar pull behind his navel, and he caught a glance of Professor Lupin's farewell wave before the room blurred out of sight.
Please, please, please Read and review.
Chapter 2: Full Moon
"Where are Ron and Hermione?" Lupin asked. Harry jerked a finger over his shoulder, indicating the garden. He saw Moody's eye twist in that direction, apparently looking through the door, and the old Auror grunted.
Tala, not having the advantage of a magical eye, looked out the window. Upon seeing the scene that Harry and Ginny had left, she said, "That's sweet." With an odd little smile. The rest of them were sitting around the kitchen table, having tea and discussing that which was safe to discuss. Tala was sitting next to Lupin, who was looking pale.
"Why are we going to Diagon Alley tomorrow?" Ginny asked, trying to change the subject before she dissolved once again into giggles.
"You need your new supplies, don't you?" Moody said bluntly. "Didn't forget your book lists?"
"No," Harry said. "I think I may, actually...." He rummaged in one of his pockets, finally producing a somewhat crumpled Hogwarts letter. "Yeah, here it is." He looked over it, scowling slightly as he read his booklist. "Wait, this can't be right."
"What is it?" Lupin asked curiously.
"I have books listed here for NEWT level Potions. But I only got an Exceeds Expectations in the practical examination, and Professor McGonagall told me Snape doesn't accept anyone who gets below an Outstanding." He said, scratching his head.
"May I?" Lupin said, and Harry handed over the parchment. His former DADA professor looked over them, his lined brow furrowing. "Not a bad turnout on your OWLs Harry." He commented. "The enclosed note says you are looking to become an Auror?"
"Well, yeah." Harry shrugged.
Moody and Lupin exchanged looks. "It's a noble profession." Lupin said finally. "And I think you have the makings of a good one." Moody grunted in what may have been agreement.
"Thanks Professor." Harry said, flushing at the looks of admiration from Tala and Ginny. "I figure if I live, I can..." He trailed off at the looks on their faces. "I mean..." He looked around desperately, then stood up abruptly. "Excuse me." He fled up the stairs.
He collapsed facedown on the bed of the first room he came to, covering his head with his arms. He couldn't believe he just said that. Sure, he could think it in the dark corners of his mind; those shadows where he turned over and over again the fact that in order to bring an end to this war, he must kill or die. But to say it aloud. He didn't want to feel their pitying looks, he didn't want them to know how scared he was. He was supposed to be the brave one. Or, as Hermione often told him, he was the one playing the hero. Playing the Hero.
He gritted his teeth and rolled over, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. The last time he had played the hero he had lost the one most precious to him. And now, knowing that he would have to do it at least one more time, he wondered how many more lives that would cost. If he could have arranged a single meeting, he and Voldemort, live or die, just the two of them, then he would go gladly, and vow to take Voldemort down and/or lose his life trying.
But he knew one thing, that there was no way that Voldemort, or even his friends, would allow that. Voldemort would want his minions nearby to see his moment of triumph. Harry's friends would want to be by his side, faithful to the end. And that was just what he was afraid of.
The door creaked open, and he thought of feigning sleep but knew it was too late. He looked over the side of the bed and saw Ginny standing there, uncertain. "Harry." She said quietly. "You're going to live." And then she turned and vanished down the hall.
For some reason that made Harry feel better. He just hoped it was true.
When he came down sometime later, lured by the scents of dinner, he saw that Ron and Hermione had returned from the garden. Hermione had a peculiar looking little smile on her face while Ron just grinned goofily.
"Hey, Harry." Ron said, still grinning. "Try some of this." He pointed at one of the dishes.
Harry glanced at Lupin, who smiled at him. He let out a relieved smile of his own and sat down, pulling the dish forward and beginning to pile food onto his plate. He should have known that they wouldn't say anything to Ron and Hermione, both of whom, he knew, would be horrified. He didn't like keeping things from his best friends, but some things were best kept to oneself.
Harry lay in the soft, warm, slightly worn bed reading one of his Quidditch books as he tried to get to sleep. Ron was snoring softly in the bed next to his and even the giggles emanating from the girl's room across the hall had died down. He finally threw the book down on his nightstand, set his glasses on it and rolled over, punching his pillow. This only gave minimal satisfaction, however.
Finally, giving up on sleep for the time being, he sat up, and, putting his glasses back on, swung his legs out of bed, pulled on his dressing gown and made his way out of the room, a half-formed notion of warm milk forming in his sleep deprived mind.
Harry stumbled down the stairs, yawning and rumpling his hair. The floor was cold and he wished he had thought to put on his slippers. This, however, did have the added effect of waking him a bit more. He moved into the kitchen, wondering how, in this wizarding house, one was supposed to make some warm milk without magic. However, a moment later this was forgotten. A sliver of light appeared as though from an opening door from a lighted room. It shone directly into Harry's eyes, making him blink and turn.
It was indeed a door, he now saw. One that he had not noticed before. A couple of seconds later he saw why. This door had been covered by a cabinet, which swung out as the door was opened. At this point Harry's sleepiness completely left him and his natural curiosity kicked in. The milk forgotten, he moved to the door and peered in the crack. All that greeted his eyes was a stone staircase spiraling downwards. Blinking in the light of the flickering torches that lit the way, he eased the door open a bit more. It didn't even squeak, which suggested to him that this doorway was regularly used. Without even thinking about it, he eased the door open a bit more, just enough so he could slip through.
The stone stairs were so cold that he felt as though his feet were freezing, but the torches warmed the air sufficiently to burn off the chill. He eased down the steps, pausing every few moments to see if he could hear anything or anyone moving. Then, suddenly, there was a door at the bottom of the stair. It too, was slightly open. And as he watched as shadow nudged the door open a bit more and looked up at him with green eyes that glowed in the darkness.
Then it hit Harry like a blow to the stomach. It was full moon. That was why he hadn't needed a candle as he moved down to the kitchen. The light of the moon had filled the house. With a strangled yell, he backed back up the stairs, trying not to provoke the tawny wolf still standing before him. It looked almost as startled to see him as he to see it. It shouldered the door shut behind it and rushed up the stairs after Harry, and he could hear a low growl behind him.
As he fled he could swear he felt its warm breath warming his chilled feet and hear it panting as it chased him up the stairs. He expected to feel the tearing of teeth at any moment, condemning him to the life of a werewolf, shunned and feared. He darted through the door behind the cabinet, and skidded to a stop, taking a few running steps back to slam it closed. But before he did, the tawny shadow slid through the opening and stood again before him, its green eyes catching the light of the moon. Its mouth was open and its tongue was hanging over gleaming white, sharp teeth.
Harry thought about bellowing for help, but he was sure that the creature could work its curse on him long before anyone could make it down the stairs and to his aid. He didn't want to startle it into leaping at him. And as luck would have it, he had left his wand on his table next to 'Quidditch through the Ages.' His eyes darted around for escape routes, thinking if he could get far enough away from it he may be able to come back and maybe lock it out of the house.
But the wolf was not making any move towards him, it was merely standing there, looking at him almost expectantly. Why expectantly? He looked at it closer, focusing on the pupil of the eye, the shape of the muzzle, the tail... He gulped, almost relieved. This wasn't a werewolf.
Harry stopped cringing and stood up as the wolf sat on its haunches, its head tilted to the side. "You're just a wolf." He said, then felt a little silly. He forgot this though, when the wolf shimmered peculiarly and changed. It was Tala, her green eyes catching the light of the moon and her face distinctly un-amused.
"Not exactly 'just a wolf' Harry." She said coolly, turning to the cabinet behind her and shutting it firmly. He heard it catch with a loud click. Then she turned back to the young wizard, her eyes still cool and her arms folded across her chest. "And I truly wish you hadn't 've seen that." She sighed and moved to the kitchen table, pulling out her wand. Harry tensed, but she only used it to set the teapot boiling and to move it and a tea tray to the table. She glanced up at him, and a rueful smile twisted her mouth. "Take a seat, Harry, and relax. I'm not angry, just upset."
He watched her from his chair as she moved restlessly around the kitchen. Finally, she located a box of biscuits and moved it to the table as well, then poured a cup of tea for herself and for Harry. She seemed as though she didn't know what to say. She looked at him over the rim of her teacup as she took a sip, then set it down with another audible sigh. "As I'm sure you've deduced Harry, I am an animagus." She looked away, and he saw she was looking out the window at the full moon. "And now you are one of only a limited number of people who know this." She pushed the box of biscuits towards him. "Have one." He complied.
"The place where I grew up was a haven of sorts for werewolves. My parents are researchers, like me, and we are looking for a cure."
"Have you...?" He asked.
"Our latest potion makes the transfigurations easier, and helps them to keep their own mind, and health, but still we keep looking." She replied. "It is a vast improvement, but..." She trailed off with a helpless gesture. "Anyways, as I was saying, Stepenwolv Research Facility is a place where werewolves are accepted as full members of a community. While I was growing up, most of my friends were werewolves. I've always loved wolves, but wasn't quite nuts enough to be willingly bitten. So instead I became an animagus." She set down her teacup and leaned back in her chair, glancing at the cabinet that concealed the door that led to Remus as she drummed her fingers on the table. "We don't have to register in the States, but over here..." Again the helpless gesture. "And wolves are not well-thought-of animagi forms." She picked up her tea, and took a few more sips. "I have to ask you, Harry, not to tell anyone about this. I know you are a trustworthy young man, so I'll trust your word if you give it."
He didn't even have to think it over. "I won't tell anyone, Tala." He assured her. She reached over and squeezed his hand.
"Thank you, Harry." She smiled. She stood and levitated the dirty dishes to the sink. "Now you must go to bed, Harry. We have a lot to do tomorrow, and I want to get back to Remus." Harry was looking straight in her eyes as she said his former professor's name, and he wasn't hard pressed to define the expression he saw there. He contemplated it as he turned and moved up the stairs, he thought about it as he removed his dressing gown and glasses and snuggled himself beneath the covers. It was love, pure love. Harry closed his eyes as Durry came down and snuggled between his cheek and shoulder. Then, with his little pet's strange purring in his ears, he fell asleep, a blessedly dreamless sleep.
The next morning saw them sorting through their trunks for some muggle clothes to wear on their trip and while they were in America. They would be purchasing some everyday robes to wear as well. Hermione was positively excited to be able to obtain some non-school robes. Lupin, as soon as he had had breakfast and was nearly his old self again, had rummaged in the attic and found some old, and slightly musty, duffle bags with enchanted interiors so that didn't have to lug around their trunks. Anything they didn't take would remain at his home until they returned. Even Hermione decided that the duffel bag would be more convenient than the muggle luggage she had used on her vacations in the previous years. She was still busily piling all her books in when the rest of them were ready to leave for Diagon Alley. Tala and Moody would be accompanying them while Remus would be staying home to get the rest of his strength back.
"C'mon Hermione," They could hear Ginny saying from they were waiting in the kitchen. "You can finish later. Anyways, you're going to have even more to pack when we get back." Apparently, Hermione saw the point of the girl's arguments, for soon she was coming down the stairs accompanied by the red-head, pulling her robes on over a green jumper and tartan skirt.
"How are we getting there, anyway, Professor Moody?" Ron asked. He was so tall now that he was nearly on eye level with the gnarled old Auror. He seemed rather uncomfortable by this new arrangement, and often tried to duck when Moody's magical eye was turned on him.
"For the last time boy," Moody said grumpily, "Call me Mad-Eye or Moody. I wasn't your professor and you know it." He glared at Ron, who looked like he wanted to hide behind something. Moody seemed satisfied by this reaction and turned to the question. "Floo network isn't safe, neither are broomsticks. The Knight Bus is too unreliable and you are too young to Apparate, so Dumbledore charged us a Port-Key to get us there, and another to get us back."
"We will, however, be taking our broomsticks to the Landing. We're going to need them once we hit the States." Lupin interjected. He caught Tala's hand as she tried to pile more food on his plate, and brought it to his lips. She seemed flustered and Harry thought that it was a clever way to get her to stop hovering like a mother hen. She had already taken his former professor's temperature twice, checked his pulse, measured his blood-pressure and examined his eyes. Lupin had endured it all with a small amused smile. But even he had his limit of patience.
"Are we ready then?" Moody said, a flicker of a smile playing across his slash of a mouth. Nods all around. "Fine, you know the drill." And everyone crowded around, Remus taking the time to give Tala a kiss before he stood back and let her join the others. They each lay a finger on the battered and splintered bludger bat that Moody had produced from somewhere within his robes. Harry winced as he now felt that familiar pull behind his navel, and he caught a glance of Professor Lupin's farewell wave before the room blurred out of sight.
Please, please, please Read and review.
