Disclaimer: Whoosh. Whoosh. WOOSH. WOOOOOSH. Sorry. Was throwing stupid labels over my shoulder. Muah hahaha…not mine.


To Screw Aristocracy

issalee


Hermione looked at her in surprise, while Ginny, her knees suddenly weak, sat down quickly on the stairs. "Don't tell me you've read Hogwarts: A History."
"Of course," Blaise said mildly. "Who hasn't?"

Draco Veritas, Chapter 16- Cassandra Claire


Inside of Harry's mind, he was safe. How many times had he hidden there, in the deepest recesses of his conscience, even when Voldemort had attacked him? Here in his mind, he was all-powerful, and only he was allowed inside.

But that was not to be, right now.

He was staring at into the eyes of a very much white-haired man who was grinning inanely back at him, and he suddenly felt the urge to cringe. The man, Harry recognized as Rabastan Lestrange.

"Hello, Mr. Potter," he murmured. "It seems you've been touched. Shall we speak later? This won't last long."

Harry blinked. The man seemed so babyish, and even now, Rabastan began to laugh. "Just joking, Harry."

The Gryffindor turned red with rage. "How dare you!" he said through gritted teeth. "You've helped to ruin my life, and you're acting like you're my friend?"

Rabastan leaned back, and Harry noticed for the first time they were inside of a small cell. Lying all around him on the ground were dolls, braided from straw.

"I would hardly say I've ruined your life. I think I helped it, actually. Won't you be surprised to learn a few things…at least someone will be." Rabastan smirked, but in a dopey-ish way. "You've got some nerve, by the way, intruding on my privacy."

"I don't even know how I got here," Harry groused.

"Simple! You've been branded by a very powerful magical source, Harry. Of course, it will take a moment to—sink in. Tynan likes it to wait."

"Tynan? That evil, conniving little—"

"Isn't that the most overused description I've ever heard." Rabastan picked up a handful of straw and began to twine it around and around. "Besides, you aren't the only one. Bellatrix was quite upset to find herself here, and I daresay she screamed."

He smiled, almost fondly.

"I enjoyed watching her mind unravel."

Harry did cringe this time, scooting backwards. "Am I—going to go crazy in here?"

"End up like me, you mean?" Bast shrugged. "It depends. My dear sister-in-law couldn't take it, and went mad shortly afterward. She was the first to be touched. She doesn't remember it, of course, but when Tynan returned and found her here, she recalled all of it soon enough."

"And you?" Harry couldn't help asking.

Rabastan pushed off from the wall suddenly, and Harry found himself looking into eyes of the strangest brown. "I've always been insane, myself. Tynan just—helped me along." With that, he pressed the now finished straw doll into Harry's hands.

Harry dropped like a stone as his whole body began to burn, and his vision began to swim. The expression on Rabastan's face suddenly became much more sinister. "You see, Harry, she has done quite a bit of life-ruining for me. I enjoy thinking that you will be the death of her, and I—"

He twisted Harry's wrist sharply, sending the boy into another searing spasm, and looked away almost regretfully.

"—And I shall be the death of you, Harry Potter."


Draco looked down as the boy in his arms stirred, stopping. Hermione and Carina ceased walking also, and looked questioningly at him, but he was only looking at Harry.

The Gryffindor shot up, eyes wide as he let out a cry.

"No!"

Draco wrapped his arms around Harry more tightly, letting his mate's legs down as he did so. "Harry—Harry, it's ok! Harry!"

The green-eyed boy struggled for a moment, before blinking back the tears that were rapidly welling in his eyes from the immense backlash of pain he'd gotten from the force of the Cruciatus as well as—

Rabastan.

Harry's eyes widened, and he looked down at his wrists. They were the normal tanned, skinny wrists he was used to, but in his right hand, he was holding what seemed to be a charred doll.

"What is that?" Carina couldn't stop herself from saying. "Harry, drop it! It might have a curse on it."

"No," Harry whispered, but he let go of it anyway. "It doesn't."

The doll hit the ground with a surprisingly audible and soft thud, stirring up a few restless leaves as it did so. There was complete silence around them, and a slight wind started up, calming and as cool as one someone would feel on a normal day. Harry crumpled suddenly, with Draco catching him from behind at the last instant.

"You're weak," The Slytherin said angrily. "I shouldn't have let you go. Come on, we have to get back to the school."

"In the dungeons," Harry shook his head. "We have to get down there, and talk to Rabastan Lestrange. He—he knows something that I—that we don't, about your aunt."

"Not until you're properly healed," Hermione protested. "Harry, you've still got the cast on your leg!" She was stopped as Harry warily eyed the dirty cast, and it melted off, leaving his jeans to roll down and cover the rest of his leg. Immediately after he felt weakened, and sagged gratefully into Draco's arms.

"I'm fine, Hermione," he said. "But we have to get down there."

"Potter," Draco said softly from behind him. "We don't have to know everything about Tynan. She is a madwoman, and I would expect that information to be more than enough for some. She almost killed you, Potter! What the hell were you thinking?"

There was a pause as the Gryffindor thought, and then he pushed away from Draco, stumbling for the first few steps, but then righting himself quickly with the aid of a tree nearby. He turned briefly, eyes looking haunted and gloomy.

"I was thinking," he muttered, "That maybe I could get some answers."

Carina suddenly broke away from the two on either side of her, and flung her arms around Harry, forcing him to fall down. In the few scant moments that she had as she was lying on top of him, she leaned in closer and whispered in his ear.

"Your parents aren't coming back, Harry. It's obvious you want them to, as do many others, but she isn't bringing them back."

Harry turned his head slightly to look at her, eyes wide as she leaned back on her haunches and he sat up. "How—"

"She is, like Draco said, a madwoman. Mad people are all the same, Harry. They promise you things you can't have—and that they can't give to you. I would think that you of all people would know that."

"I'm still young," Harry tried feebly.

"As am I."

They looked at each other for a moment, each in their own thoughts; Harry in his parent's arms, and Carina, imagining what it must have been like for not him—but Ginny. Then Hermione and Draco were standing next to them, the latter looking bristled. Carina held her hands up, smiling sheepishly.

"Peace, I was just stopping him from leaving."

He growled at her as he helped Harry up, but said nothing. Hermione brushed strands of hair from her eyes. "What now? You're awake, Harry, but we're still lost in woods with no one to help us and no idea which direction the school is in—"

"But we do have a wand, Hermione, and as Ron so lightly put it in our second year, are you a woman or a witch?"

Hermione looked at Harry askance for a moment, before looking down at the lithe wand she held in her hand. Already she could see the strands of yellow crackling at the end of it; her wand was ahead of her.

"Point me," she whispered, letting it fall. The wand spun in a complete circle, whirring around and around for longer than usual before finally twanging to a stop, point to the right of them. "That's North," Hermione said. "And the way we go."

"And when we reach the school?" Carina asked.

They turned to Harry, who was looking far-off. Draco squeezed his hand, and Harry looked down in minute shock; he hadn't realized the blonde was still holding it. A sudden weariness overtook him as he gazed at the faces of his friends and mate, all of them looking anxious to get back, but willing to go with him if he should plunge into danger once more. Harry sighed.

"I need to eat. I haven't had anything since those pancakes this morning, and I'm famished—" Carina cut him off with a small 'yes', and he mock-glared at her.

"Carina, however, will be required to stay behind in the forest and take any curses or hexes aimed at me, for me." He waited a moment before laughing.

Draco, from behind him, smiled slyly.

There was always a funny point, even when in chaos.


Near twenty minutes later, Harry was beginning to get a headache. He was panting already and they'd only been walking nonstop, no running or death-defying stunts at all. His vision was all tunnels, and he was sure Draco was beginning to notice.

"Feeling all right?" The blonde muttered. "If you faint, Potter…"

"Shut it, Malfoy," Harry gasped. "I'm really not up to this right now. And I don't faint," he added bitterly. "I pass out with extremely dramatic movements."

Draco cast him a sidelong glance, than smirked appreciatively. "It seems, Potter," he said while dodging a branch. "That the majority of your time must be spent with me, seeing as you're starting to sound like me."

"Stop bickering," Carina interrupted them. "We could die, and you two want to go down with your wands pointed at each other's throats."

"I'd hardly consider doing that if every time I tried, I nearly died."

"Malfoy, I loathe you."

"That could have hurt, Potter," Draco said, bumping at his chest theatrically. "I suppose we won't be hearing any more asinine assumptions that I'm a good person, eh?"

"Oh, honestly," Hermione said irritably. "I take three seconds to have some sort of silent agreement with Ron to stop arguing when we're in life-threatening danger, but you two just must take a whole century! With a hundred Dark wizards at your back!"

"You forgot the bloodthirsty feminist tyrant," Draco added helpfully.

"And the manipulative rat-faced bastard that's her brother," Harry muttered, and drew in a sharp breath.

"Are you losing your touch, Potter?" Draco arched an eyebrow. "We haven't even gotten to our mettle yet and you're out of breath."

"You," Harry said, pointing one accusing finger at Draco, "Are conceited."

"And you are naïve. Now that we've sorted that out, let's jump into the fray once more and keep on with these not-so-accidental suicide attempts!" Draco said cheerfully. The others stared, and his eyes narrowed. "As you must notice, my outlook gets rather cynical once we've neared the end of our lives."

"When you were younger, Malfoy," Hermione asked curiously. "Did your parents ever consider selling you to a Muggle circus? You would have done quite well as a ringleader, I'm sure, or a comedian."

"Or a Vaudeville dancer."

"Harry!" Hermione snapped at him. "Now is not the time!"

Harry looked at her in surprise. "Oh, but it's the perfect time to ask Draco whether or not he was ever put up for auction?"

"Perfectly alright, Potter," Draco breezed into the conversation. "People enjoy bidding on me, I only do it for their pleasure. Oh, and you called me by my first name. Are you slipping?"

Harry snorted.

"Oh, come on, Harry, don't tell me you've fallen for this insufferable git's ploys?" Ginny said.

"I'd like to think they were more like charms," Draco mused.

Everyone present rolled their eyes, and he looked hurt. "I thought you all liked me," he said piteously. "I thought Gryffindors were all about being kind."

"Just," Harry said kindly, "Not to you."

"Oh, really funny, Potter."

"Thank you, I try."

"Shut up!" Carina groused. Draco and Harry hid grins behind their hands as they continued to trudge onwards.

Carina noticed.


Tynan was smirking and shrieking with almost childish glee as she rent open the stomach of a kicking spider. Was that an acromantula? She tapped her fingers on it thoughtfully, and it melted away. Later, she'd go back and find it; what clothes could be made up of their hides, she wondered. She looked up as a voice pierced the battlegrounds.

"Tynan Malfoy!"

The cry was strangely pained and guttural. With a lazy movement, she raised her hand, as though she was answering a teacher's question. The movements all around her stopped, and she took a moment to scan her surroundings.

The teachers that had spilled into the clearing were still looking unbelievably lost and nervous, and she smiled as she noticed one of her Death Eaters removing their wand from the throat of one brown and bushy-haired woman with owlish eyes. Several of the forest's creatures were milling anxiously around, eyeing the huge groundskeeper and Dumbledore with something of a frenzied look in their eyes.

And there, in the center of it all, stood Lucius Malfoy, flanked on either side by a Death Eater; one of them had a mask on top of his head. Tynan squealed inwardly as she noticed Antonin Dolohov; suffice to say she had spent many a time with him when she was younger.

"Lucy!" Tynan said, rising from her knees. She hadn't even realized she'd fallen over; the acromantula had been a little bit of an obstacle. "Lucy, how nice of you to drop in! Looky, here's Dumbles, so now we can have tea and chat about the old days! You know, when tea was aplenty and coffee was scarce and so on…"

He shot her a disgusted look, and she silenced herself, looking more amused than worried. "Where are the children, sister?" he growled. "The children you were supposed to have warned?"

"Oh," Tynan said nodding her head conversationally. "Those children. See, what happened was…er…Lucy; you know it's not smart to reveal your plans to the enemies? They are quite close," she said, making wild motions to accentuate her point.

"My son is not here," Lucius said coolly. "And until he is, you are going to be in my hold for a long, long time."

Tynan's jaw dropped down in an uncharacteristic show of surprise. She snapped it shut, finally, and stood rigid. "And just what," she spat, "Do you think you can make me do?"

"I have a few things at my disposal," Lucius replied airily, but his eyes were cruel and calculating and cunning. Tynan noticed.

"Alright, alright," she said, backing down. "I sent the letters, but that old fool—," she pointed at Dumbledore, who merely blinked at her. "He intercepted them! Lucy, I really couldn't be held accountable and besides if your kids heard anything don't you think they'd be out and about, right now, or conjuring the Dark Mark or having some sort of bake sale to finance Death Eater activities someplace?"

McGonagall had been relatively quite up until this point. She had a large gash down her left arm and an oozing wound on her cheek, and she wasn't quite yet in the right state/frame of mind to figure out what exactly it was that was making her legs feel so charged.

"You're mad," she said loudly and clearly.

Tynan looked over at her, eyes oddly unfocused. "Harry Potter…well, hello there," she murmured.

"What was that?" Dumbledore barked at her.

Tynan smiled at him. "Never you mind, Dumbles. You should look after your deputy instead. Contrudo!"

Dumbledore only moved to the side with seconds to spare as McGonagall was thrust past him, hitting the ground with remarkable force.

Lucius growled as the battle immediately started up again, cries of outrage evident. Tynan met his eyes over the crowd as she vaulted over a young and milky-colored creature, slaying it without a backward glance.

"You will someday die, sister," he muttered under his breath. "And not even your fancy tricks can save you then."

Tynan was laughing gleefully as she pointed a languid finger at a rather random Death Eater, who was cowering at the feet of one of the teachers; was that Sprout? The Herbology teacher's hat was hanging lopsidedly off her head, and she was looking unbelievably grim as she raised her wand above the Death Eater's head, but Tynan beat her to it.

Sprout's eyes widened as the Death Eater screamed, a long, loud wail of pain and remorse; his body was on fire, and it was shredding him from the very inside. From behind him, in the shadow and smoke of the flame, Tynan's mouth twisted in disgust.

"Deserters," she said quietly, "Often spontaneously combust."

Sprout stared for a moment. "Even when there is nothing to light them?"

Tynan gave her a ruthless smirk. "Deserts and deserters seem to fit, correct? Wouldn't it only make sense that they perish in the blinding heat they were due to die in anyway?"

"You killed one of your own," Sprout said flatly.

"Oh, screw you!" Tynan spat, suddenly furious. She kicked at the now nothing but bones Death Eater, and chucked Sprout under the chin in an almost sisterly manner. "I don't kill. Everyone dies; I merely quicken the process."

"Shall I quicken yours?"

Sprout was out before she knew what hit her. Tynan bent down, aware of her brother's eyes on her as she stroked the grimy cheek. "Madame," Tynan whispered, looking exactly as a succubus might before sucking the souls from their victims.

"Madame, I do believe I've already quickened yours."

Lucius vanished into the underbrush, motioning for his men to follow him. Tynan watched from the corner of her eye, and then straightened up. She'd seen Harry Potter in her mind, not five minutes ago, and someone she'd thought lost forever.

Spurred on by some sort of wild adrenaline rush, she shrieked again and dove into the battle, crying her battle cry with rage and ferocity that caused even Dumbledore to stumbled.

"Blood!" she screeched wildly, tearing at her robes and sending those around her, whether they be friend or foe, flying. "Draw blood for me!"

And then she was hissing, spitting, and killing with such speed and anger that Dumbledore began to worry.

"Fall back!" he cried, unable to stand the sight any longer. "Fall back, go to the castle!" And then, as he looked at the misery before him, he uttered the one command he had never dared speak before.

"Flee for your lives, leave the wounded behind."

And they did.


Harry uttered a loud scream, falling in pain as he felt a raging bloodlust build inside of him. Someone started to call his name, but he was beyond them.

"Harry!"

His eyes opened, and the green orbs were no longer bright and emerald. Instead, they were icy blue, radiating contempt and furious and undirected anger, and he let loose another scream of agony as a sharp pain lanced up and down his side. His head felt as though it were splitting in two.

"I think," someone said indistinctly, "That he's finally gone crazy." But the same voice was soon murmuring his name in his ear, and someone was restraining him, holding onto him and sending something—tendrils of magic?—into his body.

"Sleep, Harry…sleep…"

"No!" he shouted, and then fell back as his stomach started to convulse wildly. Harry turned over once, feeling the crackling on dry leaves on his stomach, and he was suddenly struck with a sense of overwhelming guilt, more powerful that any of the other emotions surrounding him. And then—

Calm.

A whisper of icy cold blew across his face, and wisps wrapped themselves around him, moving gently into his body, caressing his very core, and he relaxed almost immediately. His hair felt damp, and wet, and as he opened his eyes, a pair of gray ones were sparkling over his.

"Harry, you damned fool," Draco murmured.

Harry closed his eyes, and slept.


Ron was nervous as he paced the Great Hall, trying his best to ignore the cries of the wounded around him. He'd entered with Seamus and Dean and almost immediately run into Neville. The pudgy boy was sporting at least a dozen bruises all across his body, but his was a triumphant tale.

Neville had organized a battle plan that would have made Harry proud; having the seventh and sixth years split into groups that shot off volleys of whatever hexes they could think of, and then moving back. Luna, they had not yet heard of. She had disappeared long before Neville's troops were ready, with the entire first through fourth years at her side, as well as Ginny.

"What about the fifth years?" Seamus had muttered, casting about for something to drink. The house-elves were working full time already, aiding Madame Pomfrey and some of those who knew healing magic.

"They're all gone as well," Neville replied gravely. "With—what was his name? Oh, yeah, Zabini. Blaise, and Pansy Parkinson, and most of the Slytherins. Cowards," he scowled, overcome by his bout of bravery.

"Malcolm Baddock was doing pretty well," said an airy voice behind them. "Course, only by his cowardly standards." The aforementioned boy was sitting on the table, covered in soot and with a pink house-elf trailing behind him.

"Baddock!" Neville spluttered. "Where're—but you were gone, before!"

"Holding up the rear, don't you know, Longbottom?" Malcolm winked roguishly at him. "We've been rallying a few here and there; took a little expedition into the fringe of the Forest now twenty minutes ago. Brought in some friends of yours too, after cleaning up the wounded outside."

And it was true; a few in clean white bandages were straggling in, collapsing in the arms of those who ran to greet them. Ron's eyes scanned the tables, and he saw the newly appeared Blaise Zabini speaking in low tones to Ginny, who was smiling brightly, despite the tired look in her eyes.

Ron started for her, but stopped as Luna Lovegood appeared in front of him. She looked unusually serious as she waved a hand bearing something in it. "Ronald," she spoke in a low voice. "We've found some people, and they're coming in. You mustn't be surprised, now, and we're just going to bring them up to the Gryffindor common room, okay?"

"Why are you telling me this?" Ron asked suspiciously, and then his voice took a panicked edge. "Where's Harry?"

Luna looked pained, and Ron let out a low moan.

"He's fine," The Ravenclaw reassured him. "He is luckier than others," she said, and for a moment her gaze flickered to a table far away from the others. Ron followed her eyes, and saw what he hadn't before.

Carleigh Ernestine was sitting on the bench, eyes unseeing. Across from her was the Ravenclaw quidditch team captain, looking as though he were ready to drop his head in his hands and sigh in frustration. Ginny and Blaise were already making their way towards them, and as the redheaded girl turned back for a moment, Ron's eyes met his sister's.

He offered her a tiny little wave, but she didn't return it. She turned away, eyes looking haunted, and for a moment, Ron was struck once more by the fact that his sister wasn't so little anymore.

"Here they come," Luna said, interrupting his musings. Ron immediately looked back to the door, and his eyes widened. Behind him, he could hear Seamus, Neville and Dean standing up quickly.

Hermione was walking in, a limping Carina on her arm. Blaise had already sighted the two, and with a loud exclamation had immediately sprinted across the way, and was hugging his sister fiercely. She was laughing and crying at the same time, and Ron distinctly heard her say something about her father before Hermione was suddenly standing in front of him, looking unbelievably tired.

"Ron," she started, but he was already drawing her into his arms, hugging her fiercely. "Hey," she said, looking startled.

"Hey," he said softly.

She smiled, and then shook her head. "Harry's—well, Draco's bringing him in, but we sort of got slowed down. Pansy and Malcolm found us coming in—we sent Malcolm for a house-elf to help levitate Harry. Draco's a little weak."

"Is he alright?"

" I said weak, Ron, not dead," Hermione began, but the redhead shook his head furiously.

"Not Malfoy. I want to know about Harry. Is he alright."

"Oh," Hermione said, narrowing her eyes for a moment before letting them widen. "Oh. Harry's—,"

But she cut herself off, as Draco entered. His wings had burst out, earlier, and now he looked simply radiant; dark, and yet light at the same time. His gray eyes were weary, and yet the same arrogant smirk was quirking around his lips. Pansy was rolling her eyes as she stood away from him, and his wings fell a little as he walked over to what was supposed to have been the Gryffindor table, aware that all eyes were now on him. Gently, almost as he would treat a baby, he laid the bundle he held in his arms on the table.

Ron's gasp was like lightning as he recognized his best friend, looking pale and sickly, and suddenly very, very small as he drew in shaky breaths. His glasses were missing, and he looked so much like a little boy then that Ron felt like crying; this was Fragile, Easily Breakable Harry. Not the I Can Do Anything Harry that everyone knew, or thought they did.

"Show-off," Ron said.

Draco looked up, throwing the redhead off. Apparently, they Slytherin's hearing was better than expected. "Shame," Draco said mournfully. "I rather thought it was dramatic, and yet not over the top."

Madame Pomfrey was making her way to him, and Draco dropped his eyes. "By the way, Weasley," he said softly, so much so that Ron had to strain to hear him. "Vivicus, ring a bell? Tonight at nine."

Ron's mouth fell open. "Wha—how?"

"What does he mean?" Hermione demanded, but there was a sudden uproar in the school. The teachers were pouring in, screaming and shouting orders. Students looked suddenly frantic, and even Malcolm Baddock's cocky face fell as he heard someone shouting his father's name to another.

"Dad!" The frantic Slytherin cried. "What's this about Dad?"

Hermione was looking at Ron impatiently. "Ronald! Tell me this instant, what does Draco mean?"

"Malfoy!" Ron ignored her. "Self obsessed little prat!"

But Draco was being swept away, with Harry once more in his arms, Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall right behind him. Madame Pomfrey looked furious, but she held her tongue.

"Malfoy!" Ron shrieked, voice high. Hermione could see Ginny running towards them, Carina momentarily forgotten. "Malfoy, what did you mean!"

"Oh, Merlin, Ron," Hermione clutched at his robe. "What does it mean?"

But the doors were empty, filled only with miserable students, their lives torn suddenly from them, and Ron collapsed in a heap, eyes bright with tears. "Vivicus," he said hoarsely. "That prat—,"

And he started to laugh. Hermione brought a hand up to cover her mouth, and Ginny skidded to a halt. She knelt next to her brother, taking in his haunted eyes.

"Ron, what did Draco say?"

Her brother shoved her away, and buried his head in his arms. "Vivicus, it's so simple, Ginny! So fucking brilliant," he ended bitterly, and began to cry.

"I'm so sorry," was all she could say.

Hermione bit her lip, and with a sudden oath she grabbed Ginny's hand. "You," she said, voice trembling, "Are going to tell me what happened." The younger girl looked doubtful, but then Hermione lowered her voice. "Please."

Ginny let her eyes fall, and then sat down on the bench. Ron let his head fall gratefully into her lap, and Hermione sat next to him.

"This may not be the best place," Ginny protested. "Wait until we get to the common room."

"What could be so important that he would even tell me?" Hermione said a little bit vehemently. Ginny turned ocher eyes to her, and Hermione reeled back a little, startled at the pain hidden there.

"You don't understand, do you? Ron's deeper than just a pile of red hair and gangly bones! He's—" But her brother squeezed at her hands, and turned to look at Hermione. When he next spoke, his voice sounded strangled.

"I killed a person, once."

Hermione felt her whole world being jerked away.


Apologies beyond apologies, my friends, for being so late. I stayed up late three nights in a row because Nikki-chan MADE me read at least the first chapter of Draco Dormiens, and then I just HAD to finish the whole damn series...point being, I am now done with the Draco trilogy, finalement, but I am waiting for the second part of Draco Veritas. Damn.

So, to Julia (whom I think I shall call Jools) Thank you for checking up on me and making sure I was alive. It's because of you I'm updating, and especially with this long chapter. It's also because CassieClaire's ficlets had me in an uproar, and I felt the need to type like hell. But here's your update, and I hope you enjoy it!

This probably moot point, now, btw, but I just wanted to say the new private messaging things and review replies freak me out. I was in a magical (ha) coma when I realized what they were, though, and now am planning to use them. Makes it easier on me...so log in, and I'll drop you a line. For those who are anonymus, I'll send you hidden and subliminal messages during the fic, as says review replies aren't allowed anymore.

Nazi fascists.