October 10, 1995
The crisp fall air was so welcoming after the smog of London, I was so overcome by the briskness of it I tripped coming out of the Knight Bus and landed on my face, prompting the conductor (Stan, he said his name was) to step out and help me to my feet. I was woozy from being thrown all over the bus from London to wherever I was now, was how I explained it to myself.
I waved Stan off with a hurried thank you after he handed me my luggage and said something that sounded very kind, but I could not understand what it was. I did understand him telling me to have a nice day before the bus seemed to disappear into the aether, leaving me to examine the looming gate in front of me.
Thornell Estate was located in a wizard village in on the Scottish coastline, it was where my great aunt lived alone. To my knowledge there had never been a husband, wife or lover of any sort. Though I professed to not know much about her life aside from the story about the ugly vases.
From the pictures of the house I had seen in my mother's old photo albums I assumed my great-aunt was short several very rich relatives.
The gate loomed in front of me like something out of a gothic novel. Dark, imposing and supported by a high stone wall that hid the property from prying eyes. Through the gate I could see rich green grass on both sides of a dirt and gravel path that led into a carefully maintained forest that hid the house itself from view. The path ahead seemed about a mile long and the walk would be welcome after all of the traveling I had done over the last few days.
I debated hopping over the wall somehow before the gate swung open of its own accord to allow me entry.
Peering down the dark path ahead of me, I hoisted my bag over my shoulder and stepped forward, praying that my great-aunt was, if not kind, a reasonable woman.
The shadows of the wall and gate seemed to stretch on forever down the path. The expanse of grass left me feeling very exposed, leaving me longing for the tall buildings and tight streets back in New York or even just what little I had seen of London.
Maybe I was a city girl at heart?
I could see the outline of a large house through the trees and it put together an image of a some kind of castle. A tall, pointed structure of white stones that seemed to shimmer in the light at points in a way that was could be stunning. Upon walked closer and coming through the trees I finally had a full view of the house and all of its details.
It was magnificent.
It looked like it had been a small castle, but refurbished over time to look more modern as times changed. The windows gleamed in the sunlight through the surrounding trees and I paused to take it all in. Who would live in something like this alone? It was far too much space for one person.
I heard the crunching sounds of boots on the grass behind me as I took in the house. There was a loud shout followed by garbled speech. I turned quickly to find myself looking at a large broad shouldered man in workers overalls with a plaid shirt and boots. I wondered why he was not wearing a coat, it was freezing out here!
He said something else, his works heavily burred and rough sounding as he looked at me carefully, taking in my dirty knees and heavy suitcase. I took in the man in turn, his brown eyes, grey hair, matching beard and rosy cheeks. He seemed a kindly sort of man, he may have been handsome once but age and outdoor work seemed to have left him fit but slightly to seed.
"Ya the Graves gurl?" He rumbled from deep in his chest.
I nodded before collecting myself and extending my hand mentally reviewing the talk Senator Weathers had given me about men and handshakes. Keep the hand firm, wrist straight and if they try to squeeze or crush the hand, squeeze back harder while looking deep into their eyes. If they want to assert dominance or frighten then don't let them by fighting back and staring them down.
"Hi! I'm Audrey!" The man reached out and grasped my hand. There was no need to put any of Senator Weather's advice to use. For a man so accustomed to working with his hands I could feel every callous, it was the best handshake I had ever had. "What's your name?"
"Tavish Thacker, the groundskeeper. He gave me a kindly smile as we parted. "I'll take tha' for ya if ya like?" He motioned towards my suitcase.
I shook my head and smiled. "Thank you Mr. Thacker, but I've got it. Could you tell me where I could find my great-aunt?"
He pointed towards the house a few feet away. "In there."
Oh. I glanced down at my dirty shoes and the dirty knees of the pants Cassandra had given me.
Oh no…
I sucked at cleaning charms and clothes were notoriously hard to get clean with a charm anyway.
Well. Nothing I could do about this fresh disaster.
All I could do was smile and make my best impression. Which, I felt deep in my bones, would probably not be enough.
With a quick thank you to Thacker I picked up my suitcase and walked up the gravel path to the massive front door, rapping a couple of knuckles on the large oak door. I stepped back as the door swung open with a creak to reveal a very old House Elf who had little white hairs sprouting from the top of his head.
"Yes?" His voice was quiet and whispery.
I introduced myself and asked if Lucinda was available.
"Right this way."
I followed the House Elf inside, the door slamming shut behind me leaving the room in the cool light of a lamp the elf lead me through the house. It was a beautiful house. It was not as big as it looked on the outside and low light left it feeling spooky enough to feel intriguing. We stepped out of the corridor into a vast room with a figure standing in the center.
I looked up at the crystal chandelier overhead that refracted the light from the windows. The elf ran immediately to the solitary figure's side. A tall, stately person with a severe, stern gaze that reminded me of a society mistress or schoolmarm. A pair of round glasses rested on her nose and her grey hair was pulled back in a tight bun. I knew who this person was.
Lucinda looked me up and down before speaking, her voice was very prim and I found her more easily understood then Stan from the Knight Bus. She spoke just like mother did, a faint burr of what I perceived as a comfortable foreignness.
"You're taller than I thought you would be." She paused. "And you look like a crow."
I could say the same of her on both counts, but I knew better.
"I am Lucinda Ainsley," she stuck out her hand and I took in the faint wrinkles on her hands that revealed a softness in age that her face refused to entertain aside from the subtle wrinkles by her mouth and steel blue eyes.
"Audrey Graves," I shook her hand with a smile, "You have a lovely home."
Lucinda's face remained stoic. "Barry, set up the West Room for tea for Miss Graves and myself. I believe my great-niece and I have much to discuss."
The elderly house elf gave a slight bow and disappeared with a popping sound.
"You can leave your luggage here for now, I'm still having your room aired out."
The briskness of her tone made me stand straighter before following her down the hallway. This hallway was full of beautiful landscape portraits and several portraits of people who did not resemble any relatives from the family album.
"Are these your relatives?"
"Yes," she stopped in front of a family portrait with a severe looking couple and a severe looking baby and equally stern child. The three figures were talking and whispering to one another. "Stand up straight!" Lucinda snapped like a military commander. "Your twice great granddaughter is here." The pictures looked at Lucinda with deep annoyance before doing as they were bid. Lucinda pointed at the baby, that's your grandfather, Callum." She pointed to the little girl. "That's me, and those are your great grandparents, Glenn and Belinda." The figures in the painting waved with each introduction, I waved back with a smile before following Lucinda deeper into the house.
"Thornell Estate is an old house, the Ainsley's have been its caretakers for generations, generally the house is passed down the the firstborn son, sometimes a daughter if there are no sons or boys in the extended line."
"Oh," I took in the statement and chose my words carefully. "I heard you're my mother's only living relative."
"Yes, Callum never had a son and I never managed to marry. We're functionally extinct."
That was grim, I was hoping for a larger family to connect with that I did not know about.
"What happened to Callum?"
Lucinda was quiet for a few moments, the room growing heavier in her silence. "He died a long time ago."
Oh.
"Now, Tavish lives in a hut by the lake as he has for the last fifty years." She turned a corner and led me into a small room with an entire wall of windows that looked out over a small pond and garden behind the manor house. "You can see it just over there by the willow tree."
The hut sat quietly next to the willow tree, it's whitewashed walls and nearby vegetable garden made it look far cozier and more welcoming then this impressive house.
Lucinda waved her wand to pull out the chairs at a small table with an array of scones and teas before inviting me to have a seat, that we had some things to discuss. The birds chirping out the window added a chorus of ambiance and peace that seemed to absorb Lucinda's attention while I ate one of the dry scones.
We sat in silence for several minutes, I struggled to hide my expression at the sourness of the tea and covertly put another spoonful of sugar into the cup whenever Lucinda looked out the window to watch the birds. I was more of a coffee person and hoped I could get a good cup somewhere in this country.
"Now," Lucinda set her teacup down on the saucer with a clink. "Since I smoothed your arrival with the Ministry of Magic, you owe me some sort of debt."
I felt my back straighten in the chair. I had spent most of my money on leaving the United States, fussing with paperwork fees and the like with consular office, the rest of the paperwork I had to finish at the Portkey Station so the consulate office knew I left the country and could get transportation help. Lucinda had taken care of the English paperwork through a proxy friend of her's at the Ministry. I had lost out on the exchange rate from Eagles to Galleons also, which left me with… well, not much at all. Enough for two weeks of rice if I lived under a bridge like the troll or hermit Vanessa often compared me too.
"I have no money, Auntie," My voice was small and by throat felt as if it was being squeezed by a large hand. "But whatever I can-"
She held up a hand and my mouth snapped closed.
"My conditions are thus, a year in my home as a guest while you find your feet."
Oh, that seemed simple enough.
"You will attend any social event I invite you too, as you appear to be civilized enough to be seen in public for the next two years."
Two years?
"Your mother told me once that the Graves were a good family of repute in the States, that they come from wealth and are devoted to service to their country. Here, you're just some American upstart with a well connected aunt, even as the wealthy here only have their ancestral homes as proof of standing and longevity within their sphere of upper society."
It took me a few moments to wrap my head around what she was saying. There was something underneath that I was struggling to wrap my mind around but could not quite grasp.
Before I could voice any concerns or theories my aunt began to speak again.
"If you find me an unbearable roommate after a year, you will be in a position to find a flat of your choosing, I ask the second year only as a… recoup on my investment in you."
"What kind of investment?"
"A social one. You have come to a foreign country with a single suitcase and a handful of change, I want to see you get a good job that you can support yourself since we both know that your father has written you out of the will by now."
Right. An upstart American relative. I did want to be anonymous.
"These conditions should allow you to pay your financial debt to me for helping to smooth the paperwork payments to come across the pond, or allow me enough time to forget about it."
If I had to be someone's prisoner, Lucinda seemed to be a generous jailer.
I stuck out my hand as Lucinda pulled out her wand. "Done."
We shook hands as a white light emitted from her wand, sealing the arrangement between us in a magical formality.
Oo0Oo0
I slept in great comfort that night. Barry the House Elf had cleaned out a room in an unused wing of the house just for me. It had a very soft, spacious bed that welcomed me into it to help rid myself of the final remnants of portkey lag in a feathery, downy softness that smelled vaguely the distinct aroma of longterm storage. I allowed myself a giggle of the sheer absurdity of everything I had accomplished in the last week as I splayed myself across the bed.
The room was a white with matching furniture and blue accents, Lucinda had called it the Pearl Room and it seemed to do its best to live up to the name. I was afraid to touch anything, my concerns of staining these nice upholstered pieces with unknowingly dirty hands.
This would be alright. I would get to know my great-aunt. Maybe she could tell me about my mom. That would be nice. I wondered what she was like before she got sick, before she got so depressed. Alex would have known, but he was always at school or work when I had the fleeting thought to ask about her. My memories of Lucina Graves were the smell of her sickbed and the sound of her bangle bracelets. Her hands were always so cold, like somehow death had already put a claim on her body and soul. My father had remarried just over a year after her death, which was a hard thing to explain to a six year old. Alex had been so openly disgusted her refused to speak to our father or Vanessa when he was home from school.
Alex did not talk to me much either. The near decade of age difference is impossible to surmount for children.
What if my father was right? What if Alex wanted nothing to do with me? What if this was a horrible presumption on my part of familial affection?
I heaved a heavy sigh and clutched a pillow to my chest, not wanting to think about the worst case anymore.
I would find Alex. It would probably be at his workplace, the rush and clutter of journalists shouting about scandalous affairs both political and otherwise. My brother's tall frame and dark hair clearly marking his location in the hustle. Maybe I should say something? Maybe I should walk over and tap him on the shoulder? It didn't matter and would not in the moment. The end result was the same. A chorus of excited noises and getting to hold my brother, a hug several years in the making.
Yes. I had to cling to that.
Oo0Oo0
October 12, 1995
Lucinda had the appearance of a hawk and the disposition of a bulldog, something that I had to learn quickly as she seemed to tear through life like a hurricane. Her eyes were sharp behind her sleek glasses that remained perched on a birdlike nose. She was a very striking woman in her own way.
She half led, half pulled me towards a shop with a sign that proclaimed it to Twillfit and Tattings, opening the door and motioning for me to follow her inside.
It was different from any other clothes stores I had been in while I lived in the States. There was a variable rainbow of beautifully colored cloth and fabric stored on shelves that seemed to reach from the floor to the ceiling, some reflecting onto the exposed white walls in a display of wearable magic that made me flush at the idea of wearing it. I could not help but stare and walk a little bit closer to examine the materials, they were beautiful and I was a bit afraid to touch them, Vanessa's words about dirty hands ringing through my mind from a time so long ago.
I turned my attention to the mannequins who wore robes in various states of finished, pinned and layered in different fabrics as the designer decided how to finish or begin their art. Some of the fabric shimmered in a way that was designed to get attention, perhaps it was formal wear, though it did seem to be a bit odd to have it sat next to designs for everyday use. Perhaps it was for a large order.
I tucked a few strands of escaping hair behind my ears and wondered what it would be like to have that belle of the ball moment. I had spent my prom night sitting in a room off the dance floor with a talented seer from Maine and her ghostly grandmother. My prom robes were a the color of daisies, a color the old ghost woman deemed ill for my skin tone, whatever that meant. Vanessa had sent the robe wrinkled and too short by several inches and Isabelle Cauldwell had to help me with an extension charm, between the two of us we were unable to make the lace and other fabric less itchy. The ghost's granddaughter, Urena the Seer examined my palm and told me I would go to far off lands and encounter hardships in love.
I never put much stock in fortune telling but if I was here now, she may have been half right.
Lucinda had waved down a woman with bottle blonde hair and a round face that helped hide whatever her true age might be. It was only when she got closer that I could see the faint lines around her mouth and eyes, though they made her look energetic and coy rather then just markers of time.
"Lucinda, it's been a while! How have you been?"
Lucinda smiled dryly. "Oh, the same as always. I've been working to restore some of the older rooms on the house, which has been a bit of an adventure." She looked over at me and the woman followed her gaze, seeming to take in a full view of me with her deep brown eyes. "Juliane, this is Audrey, my great niece. Audrey, this is Juliane, she's a very talented designer."
"You flatter me, Lucinda."
I stepped forward, feeling awkward in front of a clearly accomplished lady and reached over to shake her offered hand. She had a business grip, tight, but not tight enough to try and break my hand like the men my father would introduce me too.
"Nice to meet you, ma'am."
"Ma'am huh?" She smiled coyly. "This is the American niece right?"
Lucinda nodded as I flushed and tucked my hands into my coat pockets. "Yes. She left home in a hurry and left her decent clothes behind. Since I'm sick of looking at those… things she brought, I'm willing to pay you to outfit her."
"Huh?" My mouth had fallen open, aside from her comment about my clothes, I was taken aback by her generosity. "Auntie, you've done so much for me already! I couldn't possibly-"
"You can and you will. It's as much for me as it is for you. I'm tired of looking at your wardrobe, your clothes don't fit right and makes you look awkward. You want to find a job, you'll need clothes to work and interview in. We'll both benefit from this investment."
Investment?
The next hour was a blur of activity.
Juliane was a woman who relished a challenge. She asked me about styles I liked, I shrugged. I never learned anything about clothes or how to pick them out for myself, Vanessa would measure me and buy me stuff in itchy fabric that made me look very young or matronly depending on where I needed to be for whatever political event my father was involved in that year. Vanessa's preference was matronly according to the other girls in my year, who would giggle over the photos when they finally recognized me. Juliane was flipping through books and taking notes as she set her assistant to work recording my measurements while the measuring tape flew through the air, measuring my waist, legs, head and fingers before it was ordered to stop.
It was so strange to be the center of attention like this. My hands clenched at the my skirt to hide the nervous tumbling.
"No yellow, I think." Juliane waved her wand about, bringing a swirl of cloths to her with each flick of her wrist as her assistant began to take notes. "And black makes you look sallow. Who told you this was fine to wear in public?"
"Huh? I got this from my cousin's girlfriend, it was the only thing that fit."
Cassandra was four inches shorter than me, but she made up for her vertical challenge by being bossy. Once she found out how little I was able to pack before leaving she made me try on some of her donation clothes to see if there was anything I could take. The dress I was wearing, along with a couple of Quincy's old t-shirts and a really nice coat that was to small for him and too big for Cassandra were quickly put in my bag. The pair of them made sure I was out of the States a week after I left Byrgen House after I told them what had happened. Quincy had solidified himself as my favorite cousin for the rest of my life and Cassandra was going to get some very nice gifts for Christmas for the rest of her own.
"It's too short," Juliane said as she measured the length of my legs and distance of the dress from my knees. "Nothing past the knee or just long enough to cover her knees. Dressy, but youthful professional. Now the coat-"
I was keeping the coat.
"-I like the coat."
Good. I would not have to hide it in my suitcase for special occasions.
"Women in men's coats is en vogue."
Juliane threw a few cloth samples over my shoulders, pulling them off as quickly as she put them on making various noises that her assistant seemed to have no trouble translating as she continued to take notes.
"I have some business daywear in the back we could adjust, and some casual clothes from the racks that we could fix up too. The colors are a bit drab, but I'll find you some more flashy, flattering colors for what I'll make you. That purple would be rather fetching, and the deep red and midnight blue would be good also. Pop this girl back to life, I'll bet!"
My face flushed and I prayed she would not notice.
Vanessa- No, she was out of my life now. Why did I keep trying to think over every little cutting comment she made about me? They played over in my head like a pensieve memory and it… Well, this was just so different and the attention and the kindness was so strange for me. Was this what normal mother-daughter, or aunt-niece relationships were like? Talking, shopping and discussions that became a form of womanly mentorship?
Lucinda was nodding and smiling, adding her own input to Juliane's comments as they discussed me like a favored doll. Being a doll was fine for moment, Lucinda was paying for everything and I felt she should get final say on most of this, and I truly knew nothing about clothes and fashion.
"What about dress robes?" Lucinda inquired as she examined an expensive silver fabric. "I'm sure Audrey will need them at some point in the future."
"Hm, if it's not time critical I can put the fabric aside for you both and send you some designs for approval?"
"Wonderful idea, Juliane."
The measurements and discussion ended after an hour when Juliane's assistant emerged from the back with the adjusted clothes from the backroom with and offer for me to try them on.
Before I could agree I found myself shoved through a curtain with a collection of clothes in my arms and a wall of excited chatter behind me.
Lucinda nodded in approval as I stepped out of the changing room clade in a black knee length skirt, white blouse and deep red over robe with gold embroidery. I assumed it looked fine because Lucinda did not send me back into the dressing room to change. She stood up and paid for the clothes and made sure I wore these clothes when we left the shop.
I thanked Juliane and her assistant for the help, it was not like the fairy stories I had grown up reading, but the experience was close enough to make me flush with dizziness. All of those fairy tales showed a dramatic change in circumstances upon embarking on a new life, I was beginning to feel there was some merit to the concept.
Lucinda walked briskly through the streets, I trailed two steps behind her as to not be as jostled by the crowd and to gaze at the other shops in peace. There was a bookshop with a beautiful display of new books on alchemy in one window, the other window featured romance novels with such beautiful art as to make me blush as the damsel on the cover swooned.
The noise and swarms of color were invigorating. I turned and spun around, my skirt and over robe twirling around my knees. I finally felt free of my family, nobody knew who Jack Graves was, nobody knew about his beautiful second wife, cute photo ready children and the dowdy teenager in the picture who looked like a thirty year old spinster. Nope! As far as the British population was concerned, American politics was a quirky hobby for deeply disturbed political animals. As long as I stayed away from politics, out of the Ministry and found a nice little job in a bookshop or research library, I could get on my feet and begin to look for Alex.
This was truly a perfect arrangement!
I followed Lucinda into the Leaky Cauldron, a bar that smelled like smoke, old wood and warm aroma of comfortable foods. It was also full of people and I struggled to keep up with this spry old woman through the crowd. Wait… Why was she going past the fireplaces? She waited for me at the foot of the stairs, her face a severe expression that made me wonder what it was I had done wrong in the last minute and half.
"You're going to meet a friend of mine. She's very interested in academics. I told her you had moved in with me for a time and she's very interested in speaking with you."
Oh, great.
My mood diminished as Lucinda instructed me to go upstairs to a private room on the second floor. It's would be the first room on the right at the top of the stairs. The stairs creaked and groaned as I walked, being carful not trip in my new shoes which were beginning to feel uncomfortably stiff.
There was a light coming from under the door. I steadied myself and knocked, the door moving forward as I did so to reveal a woman sitting inside at a small table by the window.
"You must be Audrey!" She stood up quickly, flattening a couple of wrinkles in her green robes as she extended her hand to me with a warm smile. "I'm Elizabeth Fudge."
Mrs Fudge was a slight, pretty woman with a round, warm face that made me feel instantly comfortable in her presence. Her blonde hair had wisps of white and grey that showed some of her age, though wix tended to retain vigor even as they physically aged. She had stunning green eyes and if I looked close enough at her hands, I could see the dirt under her nails. I assumed she must have a garden of some sort, maybe a little one befitting a politician's wife. Something to show that she did charitable things for the community, like canning or growing food for the poor and bereft.
I shook her hand, taking note of the softness and the sweet perfume she wore wafting about her like a cloud. It smelled like flowers, but I couldn't tell what kind.
"You look just like your mum."
I felt myself freeze as our hands parted. That was the first time anyone had ever said something like that to me in relation to my mom. I never thought we looked alike, I always thought I favored my father, we had the same tall build and thick, black hair. My mom had a beautiful head of sandy blonde hair by comparison and was, according to Alex, a bit short.
"Oh, thank you," I did my best to hide my shock and smile serenely as Mrs. Fudge invited me to sit down at the table, levitating the pitcher to pour me a cold glass of water. The ice clinked against the glass before settling at the top, leaving an awkward silence between Mrs Fudge and myself.
The silence continued for a few moments. I felt awkward, even though I knew intellectually that I should engage but the words died on my tongue if they left my brain at all. Mrs Fudge seemed to be doing no better in that regard though she was the one who broke the silence.
"I'm so sorry. I'm terrible at small talk, Cornelius is far better at it than I am, being the Minister of Magic and all that entails." She gave me another bright smile as she seemed to find her footing. "I used to tutor you mother in Herbology at Hogwarts, she needed one after almost poisoning her last study partner with some kind of exotic Bavarian weed."
I giggled, hard. I felt the awkwardness between us break away and Mrs. Fudge began to laugh too.
"I was never good at Astronomy but that is much less dangerous than being bad at Herbology." I said with a laugh, my crippling failure at navigation for my Astronomy Fifth Year Exam flooding back to my memory, I got a C by the skin of my teeth.
"Transfiguration was my worst subject. I'm so set on everything being what it is, and not what it could be, I could never change a hedgehog into a pincushion or a needle into a match. I always had the impulse to go find what I needed in my own house." Mrs. Fudge laughed. "That might explain why I decided to run my own greenhouse."
"As a hobby or a business?"
"Business mostly. I grow plants for the potioneers who make medicine for Saint Mungo's. I have some exotic plants, but those are mostly hobby pieces unless someone needs materials for a more exotic potion."
I didn't know any politician's wife who had her own job or a life outside of her husband's career. Women in politics had working husbands, it was part of the image of equality that they were projecting as most of them were coming up from less privileged backgrounds. The women in my father's social circle tended to be housewives, minding their children and handling the social aspects of their husbands busy lives, making connections to better his career. If they had to work, it was generally something harmless like volunteering at an animal shelter, charity work with disadvantaged House Elves or reading to children. If they had to work, they would be school teachers, but most of the time, that would stop if the husband did well enough in his career.
Mrs. Fudge must have seen my confused expression. "I need something to occupy my time that offers me fulfillment. Cornelius enjoys politics, he likes meeting people and being social that way but I'm not good at it, really best I keep my nose out of it. I know it's… different in America, I remember some of the letters your mum sent me after your brother was born."
Letters?
She seemed to notice the question in my eyes and her expression grew even softer. "I'll have to show you when you and Lucinda come to my next house party. I'll have to remember where I put them in my office, there's a whole box of them."
"Oh, yes please!"
Other topics quickly arose, I spoke with Mrs. Fudge about the herbology classes I took at Ilvermorny, the lessons about dangerous local fauna and how it was grown in a controlled environment. The shift to history was natural and was equally vigorous. We spoke for an hour before she had to leave to meet her husband who was taking her out for a nice dinner. Mrs. Fudge promised to keep in touch and to find those letters she had kept from my mom before her next event.
Two days later, Lucinda and I received an invitation to the Fudge's next party alongside another letter for me offering an opportunity to interview for an open secretarial position in the Minister's support staff office. The heart of political power in this country.
Whatever forces that have written the course of my life are clearly sick and diabolical.
Oo0Oo0
Author's Note: This is the longest chapter you will get out of me. Everything else will be around 3k. This will most likely be my NaNo Project, so the real bulk of this should be done by the end if December and just need to be strung together and edited.
