A/N: Sorry for the slow update, like I warned, these chapters aren't going to be coming out as rapidly as I like, nor will they be as long as I'd like, but I hope you manage to find enjoyment in this chapter anyway!
I apologize if this feels rushed in some spaces. I write these in between teaching, going to grad school, lesson planning and writing a book of my own. Please bear with me!
Chapter III: In Love and War
(Daphne P.O.V)
The white hall of St. Mungos clicked beneath the sole of her flats as Astoria walked beside her. The scent of burnt skin and necrotic injuries from the medical tents outside permeated the hospital's walls as groans of misery leaked from every door. "It's not right for us to be here," Astoria said, her eyes pulled towards a horde of medi-witches surrounding a fallen auror who's body jumped with every shock. "People are injured. To take up space from people that really need help- it's wrong, Daphne."
"I wish that you could understand that just because we don't physically see your injury doesn't mean you're not hurt." Daphne rolled her eyes, "I've been searching as hard as I can for something that could cure you once and for all, but your blood-curse is progressing, we have to do something to buy you more time."
"There's no cure," Astoria said as she planted her feet. "So get over it, will you?" Daphne's eyes bulged as she turned towards her sister. "I've already accepted I'm going to die soon- why can't you?" Her sister's fist clenched, "I don't want to die, but if there's one thing this war has helped me see clearly, it's that this world isn't fair. Forget just the Order, look around- do you see how many people, innocent people the Death Eaters are hurting? How many do you think are going to die?"
Tears streamed down Astoria's cheeks as she gritted her teeth. "None of them asked for this, but they received a death sentence nonetheless. Before, when it was just us, I was okay with you looking for a cure, but now you're a great healer Daphne. Please, stop wasting your time on me and use your ability to help people who you can actually-"
"Shut up!" Daphne's body shook as she glared at her little sister. "I told you that you weren't going to die, and that's that. I'll find a way, no matter what, I'll find a way. But don't you ever start acting like you have the right just to roll over and die whenever you want!" Astoria's glare hardened as Daphne continued, "You're the only family I have Astoria! If you think that only you'll be affected if you die, then you're wrong! Call me selfish, fine, I don't care- what I do know is that hell will freeze over before I allow myself to submit to the idea of burying my little sister!"
"Daphne, I-"
"Well, it seems that I walked in on a rather heated moment," A voice called from behind her, "But I suppose that's not entirely my fault. After all, if you don't want your private moments to be heard, it's best not to have them in an open hall." Daphne turned, the hefty woman standing beside her like a statue. Silence filled the hall before Abigail Thatcher grinned, "It's good to see you, Daphne."
Blood stained the clothes of her teacher. Sweat poured down the woman's body like flowing waterfalls. Without a doubt, the morning proved hectic, and a sinking feeling began to fill her stomach as she glanced back at Astoria. Her eyes shut tight, the hand of her mentor rested upon her shoulder, Thatcher's pulse evident against her skin. "Come along now, child. We must get to work."
Daphne's throat dried as she followed her mentor. Her heart pounded like a drum within her chest as they marched down the long corridor. Astoria, her eyes fell to her sister, who glanced softly at the ground, either unwilling or unable to look back at her. I'm sorry, I'm just- I'm not ready to give up on you yet.
Still, just what the hell am I subjecting her too? Daphne's nails dug into her palm as they entered the clinic room. No, there is no other way, at least not yet. The white walls closed in around her, to her left, a modified I.V. drip stood at the ready. The green liquid within the bags that hung from the hooks atop the rolling stand matched the churning of her stomach as Dr. Thatcher dragged the Intravenous machine closer.
Astoria swallowed, though Daphne could hardly blame her. The needles were far from their thin depictions, as the seven gauge steel swung closer to her sister's arm. Astoria shut her kaleidoscopic eyes as Dr. Thatcher repeated the previously given warning. Daphne had heard the warning so often she'd been able to rehearse it alongside the plump woman. Though she'd never been able to repeat the final line, "Alert your sister if you feel even the slightest abnormality, with the intricate balance of this poison, a slow response could mean death."
The needle added yet another track mark to Astoria's bruised arm. Daphne's eyes widened at her sister's silence, the thick needle breaking her skin. Astoria's fist curled against the white armrests of the chair, her fingertips sinking deeper into the chair as the needle plunged deeper. The green liquid, a thick mixture of venom and phoenix tears, swelled in the tubes before entering her sister's veins.
Dr. Thatcher had once confided in her that the experience would be grueling, yet Astoria remained silent, her lips sealed as if it was nothing more than a simple transfusion. A grin broke across Thatcher's ordinarily stoic face as she nodded, Of course she'd be impressed, Daphne thought to herself. You may be my sister by blood, but you're so much more like him.
Astoria's forehead leaned forward, her eyes drooping low. Daphne rushed behind her, grabbing her sister's forehead and holding it back so as not to mess with the injected tube. "How much longer?" Daphne whispered, the sweat dripping from Astoria's head like rainfall.
"Couple more minutes," Thatcher said, "I know you're already aware, but after this, she won't be able to use her magic for some time, could be a few hours, could be a few days, mostly depends on her body's recovery time. She'll be weak, and she'll need to eat a lot." Silence filled the room for a moment before her eyes hardened, "This won't cure her. At most, this is buying her some time for you to continue your research. In times like this, the last thing I want to do is pressure you, but-,"
"Yeah, I know," Daphne said, her sister's forehead burning in her hand, her eyes rolled back in her head, "She's on borrowed time."
Thatcher nodded, "She'll need rest, and she won't be able to use her magic for a few days. But, she should recover from this treatment at the very least."
"Thank you, Doctor."
A sudden chill overtook the room, the fine hairs along her body standing at attention at the instant cold. No, they wouldn't. Daphne bore her teeth as a frost began to creep across the glass window, their breaths becoming visible. From beyond the ice, a red fog loomed over the rolling hills.
"What the hell is happening?" Thatcher barked, her lab coat pulled close to her plump body.
Daphne raced towards her sister's side, rolling the limp body onto her back, her hands tucked beneath the back of Astoria's knee. "We need to get in contact with the auror corps and leave." She scowled at the approaching mist, "We're about to be under attack."
"Under attack? But that's a war crime," Thatcher hissed.
"Yeah," Daphne said. "I just don't think they care."
(Neville P.O.V)
Neville's bones rattled, the chill January breeze that rampaged London's street brought his teeth to chatter. Soft snow fell from the sky, coating the top of the tiled stone pillar that protruded from the red-stone building's base before them.
"Wool's Orphanage," Neville said as he brushed the snowfall from a rickety sign. "Are you sure this is the place?"
Harry nodded, though the boy's brow had furrowed at the building's noticeable wear and tear. "If we're going in, we should be careful," Michael said with a sigh. His finger aimed at yet another sign that hung from the chains which bound the front gate. "This place is condemmed."
"So, this is where he grew up?" Harry said, his voice low and somber. "Not exactly the warmest looking place I've been."
"Don't tell me you're feeling bad for him," Michael said.
"No," Harry said, "Just thinking on what could have been."
Neville nodded, the structure of the building shook in the passing breeze. "Harry, are you sensing anything? Does anything- I don't know, feel familiar?"
Harry brushed his hand against his faded scar, "No, ever since the battle at Azkaban, it's almost like the connection between him and I is severed." Harry glared at his palm as it dropped from his forehead, "Never thought I'd want to feel some pain from it for once."
Dark circles had formed around Harry's eyes. The lazy grin that had once donned his face had vanished months ago. Even in the happiest moments, he hardly smiled, and when it did, it almost looked as if it was foreign to him. "Come on," Harry said, "Let's head inside."
The two nodded, with Michael cutting before him, racing after Harry. You'll be alright, won't you, Harry? He swallowed the thought, following after the two, the slush from the previous day's dirty snow splashing upon his boots.
Even without the sign, Neville could easily tell the place had been empty for years. Cobwebs greeted his face upon entrance, though it was only one of many, as they seemed to litter the walls in view of his wand-tip light. The wooden floorboards creaked with every step, and deep cracks lined the inner stone walls.
"Children used to live here," Neville said, the darkness at the narrow hall's end making the hair on his body rise. "How is that even possible?"
"Not everyone grows up in the lap of luxury, Nev," Michael said, his brown eyes studying the tight entrance room. "Still, with how big it looked from the outside, I'd definitely thought there'd have been a bit more space."
Harry spun, his brow furrowed as he gazed towards the door. Softly, he rubbed his scar, his eyes narrow. "Hmm, I thought I sensed something, but- I don't feel it anymore." Neville peaked his head beyond the window, though nothing but the mud-filled streets greeted his eyes. "Maybe I just imagined it," Harry said. "It doesn't matter, let's search this place and let's do it fast."
"Let's split up and search," Michael whispered. "Faster we can get out of here the better."
Neville broke from the group, his shoes kicking up the dust as he shuffled through the unused floor. The stairs creaked as Harry climbed, taking point, Michael covering him before the two split up once more with Harry continuing up and Michael taking the second floor.
The floorboards creaked with every step. The wooden handle of Neville's wand weighed heavy in his hand, the darkness working tirelessly to swallow his dim light. Rats scurried across the ground, the smell of mold and mildew filling his lungs, the unshined placards on the doors reflecting his wand's light. Annabelle Cole (Matron).
Neville steeled his shivering hand, his finger wrapping around the dusty nob. He lunged forward, the door jamming from the rusted hinges. Damn, he stepped back, lifting his wand, Depulso.
The door flew from the hinges, the rattle earning him calls of concern from Harry and Michael above. "I'm alright!" He called out, stepping through the cobweb wall into the moldy and damp office.
His lungs heaved from the dust. Softly, he wiped the debris from his eyes as he scanned the darkroom. Neville drifted through the room like a lost spirit. Maybe it was how much time he'd been spending with Hermione; perhaps it was that old stuff fascinated him, but his body felt magnetized to the dirt coated bookshelf that rested in the corner.
Old books from the thirties filled the shelves—the collection including Lost Horizons, The Yearling, The Hobbit. Neville's brow furrowed, not here, but maybe-
Neville spun on his heel, the moldy desk of the long-deceased matron calling out to him. The golden handles of the drawers reflected the light of Neville's wand weakly. A locked drawer rested to the left side, a crack slicing through the lock. Neville pulled, the drawer screeching with resistance as it opened.
Why lock the dresser? Unless- A smirk broke across his lips as an aged and battered diary looked back at him. The Matron's Diary? Neville's forehead wrinkled, If Dumbledore is right about the Horcruxes being things important to Voldemort, this might give us a hint.
The sound of shattering glass blasted through the house as rushed footsteps scurried overhead. "Nev! Corner! Get out now!"
Harry? Neville thought, the scent of smoke ensnaring his senses. Carefully, he slipped the damaged notebook into his pocket, clearing the room. Hot steam bubbled through the halls as Michael ran towards him through the narrow corridor. "Michael what's hap-,"
"Less talk time! Move now!" The blue-haired boy gripped his wrist, pulling him forward as Harry emerged from the stairway, his wand conjuring a wave of water as fire, in the form of a dragon, crashed against it. Fiendfyre?
Neville broke from Michael's grip, racing behind the former Ravenclaw as they bolted into the snowy-streets. His breath ran ragged as the fire flickered within the house. Harry sprung from the window, his shoes skidding across the scatter glass, a growl ringing in his throat.
"Damn it," Harry cursed, turning to face the emblazed house. Harry pulled his wand up, the earth shifting around him as conjured dirt and brick walls surrounded the once standing orphanage. "We'll leave it for the Aurors to handle when they get here. The obliviators will have to come anyway, we gotta leave-"
Neville's hair stood against his arms, raising a dirt pillar of his own that exploded inches in Harry's face. "Thanks Neville," Harry whispered. He nodded, though his eyes locked upon the cloaked figure, the blood-red fabric flapping in the chilling breeze.
"Now what?" Michael hissed.
Neville's eyes narrowed, the yellowed pools of the man locking with his. No, rather, they were gazing through him as if he was nothing more than a wall of nuisance to the Boy-Who-Lived behind him. "Who the hell are you?"
Even through the cloak, the man looked tall and rugged. Despite his demand, the masked-man stood silent. The man lowered his stance, a new flurry bursting from his wand. The three dove from their spots, hitting the snow hard. The man's wand trailed Harry. Neville scowled, watching as Harry danced between magic bolts.
"Enough of this," Harry snarled. A gust of wind gushed from his wand, elevating Harry towards the roof where the masked man stood. He rushed the man, a ring of black fire surrounding them. Harry swung at the man, though faster than Neville could even process, the man grabbed Harry's arm, slamming him to the ground.
"Harry!" Michael roared. Neville nodded, the two bolting towards the black flames. They skid across the red-stone tiles as the man's hand trembled his wand toward Harry's face. "Reducto!"
The masked man jumped from Harry's body. A snarl vibrated from beyond the man's white-pale mask before vanishing in a black smoke cloud. Black smoke? Not red? So he's not a vampire? Neville thought.
"Harry," Michael said, racing towards his grounded friend. "Are you alright?"
"The hospital," Harry whispered, "We gotta get to the hospital."
(Harry P.O.V)
"If we fight," The masked man hissed, his eyes a sickening yellow, "You'd win. But I feel there are more important issues for you to take care of, if you don't act fast, we'll get her as well."
Harry lifted himself from the stone-tiles, his eyes set upon Michael and Neville, the two looking at him with concern. He read my move perfectly; how? He bit back the thought, his gaze set in the horizon where the hospital resided. "We gotta get to the hospital, now."
"What happened?" Neville asked, "Are you hurt, do you need a medic-"
"No," Harry said, his throat hoarse from the dried smoke, "I just have a bad feeling about something over there."
A pop echoed at his side, the wooden bumps of Dumbledore's old wand rubbed against his calloused palm, the tip trailed on the new arrival. The wand tip retreated quickly, though, as a pair of green tennis ball-shaped eyes peered through the ash-ridden air. "Dobby?"
"Mr. Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby shouted, "Come quick! The hospital is under attack! Miss Greeny is trying to hold the door but-"
Harry reached out, grabbing the elf's hand, giving it a tight squeeze as Neville and Michael grabbed his shoulders, "Let's go, Dobby." The elf nodded before the three vanished from the wreckage with a pop.
The four landed on the hospital grounds' grassy plains, thought St. Mungos looked hardly better than the place they'd just left. A red mist surrounded them, a trademark of the vampires that helped coat their presence. "What the hell's happening here?"
Harry sighed, closing his eyes, the magic around him filling his soul. Nothing unusual, some weaker signatures, but where are the aurors? Fire danced across the hospital's roof, the warmth in the sky directly opposed to the chill racing down his spine as screams erupted from the white building's windows. "Those bastards," Harry snarled.
Faster than he could even think, another explosion erupted atop the roof, though this one didn't approach with burning embers. A smirk broke across Harry's face, as a serpent made entirely of water swirled around a tiny figure in the distance. Atta girl, Princess.
"That's Daphne on the roof; I'm going to go help her!" Harry shouted, "You guys head to the front and try to hold a defensive position until the Order and aurors arrive." He turned to the tiny elf at his side, "Dobby, can I get a lift?"
"Dobby will gladly help the Great Harry Potter, sir."
Michael's eyes peered into his head, a tired smile etched across his lips, "Try not to die, alright, Rook?"
"Yeah, Chipper, same to you."
The roof shook as Harry landed upon them, his eyes tearing from the smoke. Footsteps rattled along the roof accompanied by soft, snake-like hissing. "So this is Potter's girl," one of the voices through the fog whispered, "She is quite pretty, perhaps I'll make her my thrall."
"You will do no such thing," Another voice hissed, "Lady Carmilla was quite clear, she's to be captured... alive."
A scoff cut through the smoke, the calm voice comforting and familiar, dampened not by the swirling water around her. "If you believe you second rate vampires can take me, come right ahead. But if you think I'm just Potter's arm candy, I regret to inform you that you are sorely mistaken."
Harry's calves twitched, his body launching forward as red-cloaked figures raced towards the water snake. "Shock," Daphne's voice carried softly against the wind, only to be drowned by an eruption of screams, the water-serpent alight with the lightning that coursed through it.
The scent of burning skin overwhelmed the smoke as Daphne's blonde hair danced in the cinder-filled breeze. "Daphne!" Harry called out. The witch turned her snake at the ready, "No, Princess, it's me!"
"Harry?" Her voice rang with exhaustion as she hurried through the smoke. A soft smile broke across their faces as Daphne lunged forward, her head falling into his chest. "I'm so glad you're here. Things were getting out of control and I was freaking out, and I didn't have time to make a plan and-,"
"Hey, Princess, Breathe," Harry said, gripping her shoulder, the red in his girlfriend's eyes weighing heavy on his heart. "From what I saw, it looks like you were holding your own pretty well." His hand slipped into hers, the other on her waist, steadying her trembling frame, "First, tell me where Astoria is? Is she safe?"
"I don't know," Daphne panted, "I sent her with Dr. Thatcher to contact the aurors after Vampires found us. I managed to lead those two away but-," Her eyes turned to the mist-coated horizon that encompassed the rolling hills, "Who'd even think about attacking a hospital?"
"Monsters," Harry said, the two walking towards the roof's edge as undead thralls swayed beyond their reddened cover, "That's who."
"What do we do?" Daphne asked, "What's the plan?"
"Don't have one yet," Harry said, bitting down on his lip, "Working on it." His eyes scanned the battlefield, taking in the scene from their vantage point. "Okay, here's the plan," he said, turning to Daphne once more.
"I need you to go back inside to-"
"We fight better as a team," Daphne bit back, "I don't want to leave you."
"Okay," Harry said, his thumb rubbing the back of her palm, "But send Dobby to get Astoria and send her back to the base." He snarled as he gazed at the approaching army, "We just need to secure the hospital until reinforcements arrive. Let's seal up the exits then meet at the front lines, okay?"
Daphne nodded, summoning the elf and issuing the order. "Watch your six Princess, I'll see you up front." Harry smiled softly as the swelling cinder flickered between them.
"I love you," Daphne whispered, grabbing his wrist, pressing her lips against his, "So try not to die."
"I'll do my best," Harry said, a smirk plastered upon his face before with a lung, he pounced into the smoke cloud below.
Wind poured from the tip of his gifted wand, the magic the wood harnessed from within him left Harry's mind spinning. A bubble coated his head, blocking the blinding fumes as Harry sprinted against the building's wall.
If I go around the whole hospital, it'll take too much time; he hissed, the groans of the approaching undead thralls growing louder by the second. But maybe, Harry stepped back, his breath ragged as he glanced along the entryways that littered the hospital's ground floor, maybe I don't have to do this one at a time.
Magic zipped into his arm like a flowing current of electricity, Dumbledore's wand acting as a lightning rod, collecting the magic without his command. The ground shook beneath Harry's feet, the heaviness of his shoulders becoming glaringly obvious, before with a shout, he forced his hands up.
As if the ground were an approaching tsunami, it rose, a wall of soil curling against the forces of gravity. Harry's shouting subsided, it was straining certainly, but the seemingly boundless amount of magic that flowed in Harry's veins lightened the burden immeasurably.
Harry flung his arm out like a conductor silencing the orchestra halting the waves of soil and stone. Sweat beat down his brow as the entryways along the left side of St. Mungos now stood buried beneath his creation.
"You never cease to amaze me, do you, Rook?"
"Michael?" Harry called out, "I thought you were holding the line with Neville?"
"I was, but when the whole ground started shaking, I thought some got by," The blue-haired boy scratched the back of his neck as he grinned. "Normally a single wizard isn't capable of changing an entire landscape, I thought more got through."
"Not sure how long we have to be friends before you figure out I'm not normal," Harry said, a tried grin resting upon his face.
"If I thought you were normal, we wouldn't have become friends." Michael nudged towards the front. "Come on, let's get to the front, we need more help slowing them down."
"I need to get to Daphne," Harry said, "I sent her to the other side and-"
"They're literally at the front door, Rook," Michael said, his eyes hard as steel. "Daphne can take care of herself, those sick people inside can't."
Harry gritted his teeth, his fingernails digging into his palms. "Right," Harry growled, "Let's go."
The war consisted of many battles; Harry had become no stranger to them. The increased adrenaline, the sweat that formed across his palms, the violence, hardly any of that phased him. Him being the keyword. If he died, he died, but Harry's stomach curled at the idea of even a single scratch landing on any of his friends.
Harry tried to silence the blood that pounded in his ear, the dryness that infringed upon his throat at the idea of losing anyone else. Worrying won't help. He steadied his wand as he glared into the approaching horde; I just need to hold on until the aurors get here—one step at a time, Potter, one step at a time.
Harry stepped forward, summoning the magic from his core as he ignited the field in black flames. "Do we have any updates on who's here exactly?"
"Haven't exactly been able to leave this spot," Neville answered, his shift dripping from his exhaustion, "Have we managed to contact any help?"
"Working on it," Harry muttered, "We just need to hold out a little longer."
Groans of agony rippled across the open plains. The mindless thralls dropping atop the flames only for their bodies to be used as bridges from the next wave. Come on, Potter, think of something, there has to be-. Harry's eyes widened to the size of marbles, the smoke dancing beside Michael. "Michael get down!"
"Huh?" The Ravenclaw whispered, a pale hand reaching from behind the smoke, the sharpened nails digging into his head.
"Shit," Neville cursed lifting his wand.
"Damn it," Michael hissed, the fangs of the putrid creatures reddened face resting at his throat.
"Ah, well, not exactly the one I wanted, but close enough," The vampire said, his voice icy as their cold blood. "You're going to be coming with me, I'm sure you'll have some interesting information to share."
"I promise you I'm not," Michael said, his voice riddled with defiance. Harry watched as the boy's palm dropped, the sapphire gem leveled to the vampire's pelvis. "Reducto!"
A mind numbing screech ripped from the vampire's throat, his legs falling from his body, his upper half withering on the floor. "Tried to tell you I wasn't going anywhere," Michael said with a disinterested shrug.
"Let's not gloat too much," Neville said, "We still haven't figured out how we're going to hold back this wave of-,"
Black smoke danced along the sky. A smirk grew across Harry's face as his shaggy haired godfather and uncle landed before him. "Sorry we're late pup, we had a couple of stragglers, they should help us deal with this mess though."
"Really who is it?" Michael said, his brow deeply furrowed.
"Griffe Brûlante!" A wall of blue fire erupted across the field, separating the hospital from the invading horde, as with bird-like grace, a figure dropped before them. "You know Harry, when dealing with an infestation, I've found that fire that singes works best."
"You're-," Harry stuttered, watching the locks of pink and silver dance before his eyes.
"Fleur!" Harry shouted.
"Claire!" Michael said, his shoulders dropping with relief. "Could have told me you'd be joining us, Pretty Bird."
"And where would be the fun in that?" Claire said with a grin.
"The aurors are on the way, have all the patients been able to be transferred?" Sirius asked.
"Those that were capable of being moved are out," Daphne called out, her icy blue eyes reddened by the smoke she emerged from. She glanced at Harry, his pulse slowing as he saw his girl in one piece. "Those in more critical condition though, we cant move them."
"Even if the aurors do get here, we'll be overrun eventually," Harry said. His eyes fell to the ash coated ground, "Daphne, we can't save all of them."
Her jaw clenched as tears streamed down her cheeks, "I know. I just- I know what we have to do, but i can't bring myself to say it."
Harry raced towards Daphne wrapping the girl in his arms, "They came for me. They knew I'd be here. If I- it's my fault that these people are going to die."
"No," Harry said, "They came for me through you, it's not your fault Daphne." His eyes hardened, "It's nobody's fault except these sick bastards, do you understand?"
"Harry, they- they don't deserve to die like this," Daphne whispered.
"I know," Harry said his hand cupping her palm, "I know."
Harry broke from his girlfriend, turning on his heel towards another approaching smoke figure. A familiar auror landing before dressed in colorful robes. "The aurors have arrived, Harry, we understand the situation, we'll take it from here."
"Kingsley," Harry whispered, "There are terminal patients in the hospital, do you have any-"
"Bones already gave us orders on the situation. We have men inside the building already," Kingsley said his voice monotone, "We'll cover your escape."
"What were your orders, exactly?" Daphne asked.
The man's face dropped, "I'd rather not repeat them." Pain rang behind the head aurors eyes, "Please go, let us handle the rest."
"You can't be serious you mean to e-,"
"Daphne," Harry said his eyes unable to reach hers, "There's nothing else we can do. We need to retreat and plan our next move." He clutched her hand tightly, "Thank you, Kingsley."
"I wish there was more I could do."
"Yeah," Harry said, "Me too."
A/N: Oh man, look at Daphne holding her ground. Also, we got a Neville P.O.V chapter so that's always fun. But poor Astoria, those treatments are definitely taking a lot out of her. Good to see reunions but what an awful cost. It's obvious the enemy isn't above war crimes. If you enjoyed this chapter, please be sure to Follow, Favorite, and Review! Until Next Time, Peace!