Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, guys. Big shout out to Eleanor, the wonderful person responsible for me updating at 1:12 AM on a Friday night. Feel better soon, Eleanor!
Petunia sighed and studied her surroundings. Lord Dracula was sending them home on his private jet, and it was beautiful plane, with couch-like seats and more space than her sitting room. Her primary concern now was the sleeping figure across the plane from her. Harry was collapsed in his seat with boneless abandon, completely oblivious to the other occupants of the plane.
"Penny for your thoughts, Pet?" Remus lowered the file of papers he had been working on. It seemed that none of Harry's companies could do without Harry's constant input now that he was coming of age. Thank goodness for Remus. He waded through all of it and boiled it down to simple yes or no answers for Harry.
"I'm worried about Harry," Petunia said carefully. Remus set down his pen and gave her his full attention. "I feel as though something is wrong, that something is going on, but I don't know what it could be." She clasped her hands together and studied them, trying to find the words she needed. "He's shut down…I can't get him to talk to me."
"Mum?" Dudley's voice suddenly said from across the aisle. "I heard what you said about Harry, and I think you might be right. I went to talk to him last night, and I couldn't find him anywhere. He wasn't in his room, or walking the halls. Nowhere. He could have been anywhere in the house, of course, but I asked Vlad if he could find Harry for me; he said Harry wasn't in the house."
"That doesn't necessarily mean anything is wrong," Remus once again lowered his pen to the papers in front of him. He ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath. "We already know he's been having some disturbed nights. Let's not borrow trouble before it comes. If something is going on, I'm sure that Harry will let us know before too long. He is still coming to terms with everything that's happened to him. Remember that Harry thinks over things for a while before he comes for help."
"I'm still worried," Petunia said, throwing her hands up. "I'll wait for a few days, but I refuse to let this go on for too much longer." She sat back in her seat and sighed. "I know he's hurting Remus."
"I know, Pet, but there's nothing we can do except keep a closer eye on him. He must come to us. That's what Paul told us. Harry must take responsibility for seeking help when he needs it. We cannot force help on him. It is his decision."
"I can try to talk to him," Dudley offered. "He's less likely to suspect me."
"Good idea, Dudley!" Remus smiled at the teen and nodded. "It may be a teenager thing, Pet. He might not feel comfortable talking to us about a girl he fancies, but he may talk to Dudley. They're closer in age."
"Talk to Mum about girls?" Dudley's disgust was obvious. "Sorry, Mum. I'll stick to talking with my mates." Dudley tried not to shudder, but both Remus and Petunia saw it and hid their smiles behind their hands.
"You might be right," Petunia said finally. "I hope it's nothing more serious than that."
"If Harry is in love, or something like that, I'll find out."
"Thank you, Dudley," Remus said finally. "Harry is lucky to have such a concerned cousin. Now, let's pretend we weren't talking about him, because I think Harry's about to wake up." The three returned to their activities, unaware of what Harry was currently experiencing.
Harry groaned as birdsong penetrated his dreams. He rolled over and froze when he didn't feel his pillow, but blades of grass beneath his face. "What-?" He lifted his head and looked around. Trees surrounded him and he was stretched out on the grass. "What in the…" Harry pushed himself to his feet and turned in a circle. He was in a forest clearing in the middle of nowhere.
Okay, Harry. Let's take stock of everything… you were in Vlad's plane, and now you're in the woods. Did the plane crash? But where's the smoke, wreckage, and carnage? Obviously a plane crash didn't land me here. Accidental magic? -- While I'm asleep…sure, let's go with that. Harry dropped onto a convenient nearby log and sighed. I need to reinstate the essential rule of waking up where I went to sleep.
"Harry?" Harry froze at the sound of his name. "Oh, my boy." Bleys? Am I dead? Harry looked up and stared questioningly at his mentor. "My dear boy."
"Bleys?" Harry stood to greet him.,"What's going on?" Bleys threw his arms around Harry at the question. He stood hugging Harry, whispering "my boy" over and over. Harry stayed there for a moment, relaxing in Bleys's arms before trying to pull away. "Bleys?" he asked yet again.
"I'm sorry, Harry. I am truly sorry to have to contact you like this," Bleys guided Harry back to the log and sat down, pulling Harry down beside him. "I'm afraid you're going to wake up afterwards feeling extremely ill for a day or two, but I had to contact you. You are hovering between the realms now, and that is not healthy for your body."
"Why did you contact me?" Harry had a feeling the man would ramble on and on unless he interrupted him. He also had a sinking feeling in his stomach.
"Harry, things have changed. The future, your future, has changed." Bleys looked at him, his expression sad and his eyes tired as though a millennia suddenly caught up to him. "Harry, when you healed Voldemort's mind, you changed things."
"So, what changes?"
"My boy," Bleys took both of Harry's hands into his own. "I'm afraid you will return to me sooner than I predicted."
Terror closed Harry's throat as his hand left Bleys's and wrapped in the man's robes. It was a habit from when he was small, he knew, but he needed it. "I-" he started to say, but he stopped and shut his eyes, unable and unwilling to process this news. He couldn't-not after-NO. Harry turned his head away, his eyes closed in vain, attempting to block out what he didn't want to acknowledge.
Bleys pulled him into his arms and Harry hid his face in the man's chest. The familiar scent of wood smoke and herbs teased Harry's senses while he fought against Bleys's information taking root in his mind. He covered his ears. He knew what Bleys meant. He knew… and he didn't want to hear it. "No."
"I'm so, so sorry, my boy," Bleys whispered, one hand resting at the back of Harry's head. "I tried, but there was nothing I could do for you."
"No!" Harry ground out in denial. He simply refused to accept it. He was not going to- there was no way he could- he gasped for air as he felt the panic start to crawl up his spine. "No."
A rushing noise filled Harry's ears and then a commanding voice snarled at him, although he could not hear what it was saying. Harry jerked against Bleys's hold, startled at the sudden change. The voice came again, clearer this time, practically roaring. "MAGUS! WAKE UP!"
All at once, the clearing and Bleys disappeared, leaving Harry back in the airplane, staring at the wall in front of him, almost paralyzed in his panic. He managed to gasp out a breath, and felt a wave of nausea overtake him. He lurched to his feet and stumbled, unable to find his balance due to sudden vertigo. "Harry? You okay?" Dudley asked as he caught Harry.
"Bathroom," Harry croaked. "Going to be sick." Dudley's eyes widened and he supported Harry to the bathroom. Harry dropped to his knees in front of the toilet and redefined the phrase "violently sick."
"Mum! Harry's sick!" Harry just held onto the floor with both hands. The world wasn't supposed to tilt like that, was it?
Harry groaned as a blessedly cool hand settled on the back of his neck. "Harry?" Petunia's worried voice said.
"Sick," He rasped out. He clutched the rim of the toilet and fought back another heave.
"I know, dear. Go ahead and get out what you need to. It's alright, we'll be landing soon." She said, smoothing back his hair. "Remus, could you let the pilot know that Harry is ill and would appreciate the smoothest landing possible?" She said over her shoulder. "Dudley, could you get some water for Harry?" Petunia returned to Harry's side and looked him over. "How are you feeling?"
"Terrible," Harry said softly. He retched again and shuddered. Nothing but bile that time. Should be safe to get up now.
"Here, Harry. Rinse and spit," Petunia said as she handed Harry the glass of water Dudley had brought for him. Harry didn't have the heart to argue with her and handed the glass back when he was finished.
"I'd like to go back to my seat," Harry said softly. "I think I'm going to be okay now."
"Alright. Let Remus help you," she stepped back to allow Remus to stand next to him. Harry only nodded and reached out for Remus's hand. Once Remus settled him back in his seat, Harry drifted off to the sound of Petunia and Remus whispering to each other a few seats away. Huh. Probably talking about me. If Bleys weren't already dead, I would kill him. I feel terrible.
Harry woke up sometime later to the plane touching down, but he kept his eyes shut in a futile effort to remain asleep. He had almost managed to drift off when a soft, hesitant voice startled him.
"Milord?" The title was so unfamiliar that Harry instantly reacted and opened his eyes. "Lord Tepes? Your father sent me."
Harry studied the man and tried to figure out why this man was here. Unfortunately, his brain seemed to still be on holiday. "Pardon?"
"I'm Doctor Smithson. Your father called me when he heard you became ill during your flight. He wanted me to check on you."
"Oh. I'm fine," Harry said, closing his eyes again.
"Why don't you let me be the judge of that, since I'm here and I get paid either way?" Dr. Smithson said as he set his satchel down.
"Now? On the plane?" Harry opened his eyes again to look at the doctor.
"Why not? No one else is here, and the sooner you let me check you, the sooner you can go home and I can wander back to my lonely office." The doctor took out a stethoscope and stood waiting. He must have seen something change in Harry's face, because he nodded to himself. "Jacket off, please."
Harry shrugged off his jacket, loosened his tie, and undid the top few buttons of his collared shirt. "So, my father called?"
"Yes, all the way from Romania. Look here, please." The doctor flashed a small penlight into Harry's eyes. "Very pleasant man, and very concerned about you." The doctor went through the examination revealing little about Harry's condition, but commenting instead on the crummy weather in London, the constant traffic on the beltway, and throwing caution to the wind in terms of human crowding on the Metro. Before Harry could catch up and think of something to say, the doctor had finished his examination and stood making notes in his pocket sized notebook. "You've not been sleeping?"
"Just on and off." Harry leaned back in his chair. He wanted to go back to sleep... right now.
"On and off, hmm?" The doctor jotted down another note. "On a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst, how much stress do you feel you are under?"
"Er, three, four, maybe five? Six?" Harry guessed. Doctor Smithson said nothing, but added one more observation to the slip of paper.
"How long have you been feeling ill?"
"Not long. I felt a little bit off yesterday, but I was okay. I mean, I was fine this morning. I took a nap during the flight and woke up feeling like this."
"Mmm. Well, you appear to have a slight touch of the flu and you are fighting exhaustion. My best recommendation is for you to go home and rest. No paperwork, no visits, nothing. You should go straight to your house, go to bed, and drink plenty of fluids. Take some aspirin for your headache and fever. Eat what you like, but please keep your meals bland for a day or two until your stomach settles. Sleep as much as you want and let your aunt mother you for a bit. She's worried about you, and I can tell. Watch the telly, play some video games, and forget about your responsibilities for a while. Your business and things can do without you while you recover."
"Exactly how much do you know about me?" Harry asked, his suspicions growing rapidly.
"I'm a Squib, disowned by a pureblood family. I do keep in touch with the magical world and the news. Lord Tepes financed my Muggle education and medical training. I'm happy to be of use to him."
"You're going to take an interest in my well-being like everyone else, aren't you?" Harry asked, resigned to his fate at having a personal doctor.
"Absolutely, Milord Tepes." Harry only closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. The number of people concerned about his well-being was growing by the day and he was starting to worry that they were going to completely take over and leave him with nothing to do. The doctor only chuckled.
Harry cracked open his eyes as the car pulled into the driveway at Privet Drive. Petunia and Remus were speaking in low undertones in the front seat, and Dudley was snoring away in the back seat next to Harry. It looked as though the late night at the ball had finally caught up with Dudley and he was sleeping off his excess dancing. Harry sat up a little and fought back the wave of dizziness that followed. He felt better after sleeping, so he hoped his recovery time would be short, and not the promised couple of days Bleys had warned him about. He would murder Bleys when he saw him next, and he wouldn't make it a quick death, either. Even thinking of the logistics of going beyond the Veil and back again made Harry's head hurt and tread a little too closely to understanding the mysteries of the universe. He had already cheated death several times in his lifetime, beat Voldemort in more than one duel, and won countless Quidditch games; he didn't want to add "Unraveling the Mysteries of the Universe" to his list of accomplishments.
"Are we home?" He said quietly, sitting forward in his seat.
"Yes, Harry, we are home. Could you wake Dudley for me?" Petunia asked, her thoughts absent from her voice.
"Sure, Aunt Petunia." Harry wished he could do more than just shaking his cousin awake, as the boy had managed all kinds of creative ways of waking Harry over the years, but his enthusiasm wasn't present. All he really wanted to do was go up to his room, see Hedwig and Alden, send Hermione a message to tell her that he was home, and go to bed. He hoped it would be in that exact order and with as little delay as possible.
"Dud, wake up," Harry shook his cousin lightly and then smiled as Dudley jerked awake, blinking in confusion. "We're home."
Dudley mumbled something unintelligible and got out of the car. Harry rolled his eyes and followed him. His cousin was never a pretty sight in the morning, and he looked even worse when he was tired while they were traveling. Harry allowed the adults to handle things when they shooed him away from helping with the luggage. "Go rest," Remus said firmly. "Your cousin can handle your things, I am sure." Harry conceded to the one-sided argument and entered the house.
A bark startled him on the stairwell landing and he looked down to see Alden poking his furry head out of his room. "Hi, Alden." If dogs could glare, Alden definitely had the scariest one, and it was directed towards Harry. "Don't look at me like that," Harry said as he entered his room. "I wasn't allowed to take you. Vlad said he doesn't much care for animals."
Harry shut his bedroom door and flopped onto his bed. Alden sat down in front of him and whined pitifully. "It wasn't my choice!" Harry said.
You could have taken me. Harry heard as he toed off his shoes. I would have been good.
"I know you would have been- Oh, great, now I'm hearing things." Harry muttered to himself.
You can hear me? Alden got to his feet and started wagging his tail. Good! I was hoping you could. Bleys said it might take a while to happen, and it certainly has taken a looong time! You didn't help matters by going away as you did. I can't believe you left me all alone with an owl and house elf for company! Hedwig hooted in the corner. Alden glanced over his shoulder at Hedwig. Not that you're not a fascinating conversationalist, Hedwig. It is only that familiars must be with their wizards. That's all. Alden cocked his head to the side, obviously listening to something Harry couldn't hear.
Hedwig says to stop getting into so much trouble. You'll make her lose all of her feathers early. Alden turned back to Harry, and his tail drooped. Harry, are you all right?
"Oh, that's nice. Excuse me for a minute," Harry got up from the bed and went downstairs. "Aunt Petunia?"
"In here, Harry. I'm making you some tea." Harry stepped into the kitchen to find his aunt at the sink, filling the kettle, and Remus already at the kitchen table, going over yet another pile of paperwork. How often did a business need his input, anyway? Didn't they have a special position for someone to run through everything without Harry's input? How had it survived the last few years while he was growing up? Petunia's voice broke him out of his thoughts. "Did you have any preference?"
"Uh, no. Whatever we have is fine," Harry sat down at the table and stared pensively at his hands. How to explain this new bit of information so that they did not think he had finally lost it?
"Harry?" Harry looked up at Remus. "What's the matter?"
Harry studied his fingers some more and then ran them through his hair. "How to put this?" He ruffled his own strands of hair further before lowering his hands back to the table and dropped his chin on them. "Alden is talking to me."
"Alden, the dog, is talking to you?" Remus asked, his confusion plainly present.
"Yes, Alden is talking to me," Harry said evenly.
"Remus, he's delirious," Petunia said as she came over and placed a hand on Harry's forehead.
"I don't think I'm delirious," Harry brushed her hand away. "I simply think that Alden is talking to me."
"That may just be the definition of delirium, Harry." Remus said. "Let's test it out. I'll go upstairs and tell Alden something, and then you go ask him what I said. If he's able to tell you, then you are hearing him talk. If not, you are delirious." Remus set his pen down on the table and went upstairs.
"Here, Harry. Drink some tea." Petunia set a cup down in front of him. Harry really didn't want any tea at that point, but he picked up the cup and sipped it, just to make his aunt happy. Remus came back a few minutes later and nodded to Harry.
"Be right back," Harry left his tea behind and went back upstairs. Alden was waiting for him, his tail wagging. "Now, what did Remus tell you?"
That he was very proud of you bringing something like this to him and your aunt. Alden told him. Now, you should really go to bed. You're not looking at all well.
"My dog talks to me," Harry muttered as he turned around.
I'm a familiar, silly human! Alden called after him. Harry heard an odd noise from Hedwig and Alden. He was almost positive that they were laughing at him. He returned to the kitchen and saw Petunia and Remus waiting for him.
"You're proud of me for bringing this to you," Harry said as he picked up his tea. "Thanks, Remus. Now that I've been assured that I'm not delirious or crazy, I'm going up to sleep for a while."
"Alright, Harry. Call if you need something," Aunt Petunia ordered as he walked through the doorway.
"Sure, Aunt Petunia. Thanks for the tea." Harry left the two in the kitchen and went back to his room. He changed from his suit to a t-shirt and sweatpants before collapsing into the comfy bed. Alden, wisely, stayed silent during Harry's actions. Harry closed his eyes for a second before opening them and groaning.
What's wrong? Alden asked, coming to sniff at Harry.
"I need to write to Hermione. She's probably gone- you know Alden, it's still really odd to be holding a civil conversation with you."
Get used to it. I'm not going anywhere. Alden warned in a strange, philosophical voice.
"I need my Mini-Messenger," Harry said. Then he very subtly supplied, "It's over on the desk."
Alden left Harry's bedside and lifted his front paws on top of the desk to reach the tiny book. He took it gingerly between his teeth and returned to the bedside. He dropped it onto the blankets next to Harry and then returned for a pen.
"Well, that's handy. Thank you, Alden."
I do it only for love of Hedwig. She doesn't want you out of bed. Alden sniffed and then gave a spluttering sneeze. Write to your friend.
Harry grinned and opened the book to see Hermione's last message: "Have fun on holiday, Harry. I'll talk to you when you get back," still on the page. He turned to the next page and started his own message.
Hi Mi,
Holiday was fantastic. Yes, Dracula was everything we thought he would be and more. Much more. I can't wait to give you all of the gory details of his library. If you're good, I might be able to get you in to see his original editions of all your favorites. Vlad threw me and Dudley a birthday ball to end them all and there were many interesting people. There were diplomats from all over, individuals of ancient nobility, and various People of Influence. If I wanted to take some time off after Hogwarts, I could probably travel around for two or three years thanks to all of the invitations I received to visit various countries. One Italian noblewoman actually threatened to take me home with her. Permanently. I wasn't sure exactly what she said after that, but Vlad told me that he wouldn't allow her to keep me. Having the protection of a vampire is both a pleasing and disturbing experience. I think all of the travel has caught up to me, because I feel like absolute crud. I'm going to go to sleep for a while. Talk to you soon.
Harry closed the Mini-Messenger and set it down on the bedside table next to him. He settled back against his pillows and shut his eyes. Vlad had told him that he was now his son, and that was great. Still, Harry was gaining titles at an alarming rate, and all he really wanted to be was Just Harry. He wondered what Paul would make of it all. He did have a follow-up appointment with Paul soon. He wanted to tell Paul absolutely everything that had happened, particularly about Voldemort, but he knew that if he told Paul, Paul would do everything in his power to keep Harry from continuing in his plans.
Harry kept his eyes closed and took a deep breath. He felt Alden jump onto the bed and settle alongside him. "Good night, Alden."
Good night, Harry. Sleep well. Hedwig says you look ill. Alden rested his chin on Harry's stomach. I shall keep you here.
"You do that, Alden. See you in the morning." A gentle snore answered Harry. Hmm, Alden was already asleep. That dog had the right idea. The even breathing from Alden was soothing, and Harry felt his eyes start to drift shut. He raised a hand and the lights went out.
Harry spent two more days resting in intervals at home. His mind continued to run over what Bleys had told him. It was strange to know his fate in advance, to know what was going to come in a fairly brief amount of months. That was it. Just a few short months.
Harry had an appointment with Paul the following week and it was nice to see St. Jude's again. Remus had finally bought a car for their use and had offered to take Harry to his appointment. Riding with Remus was different than going with Aunt Petunia. Remus let Harry play with the radio and goofed off with him. Petunia often told him to calm down so they didn't get into a wreck. It was fun, and that was good. Normal.
Things were the same at St. Jude's, but things were also different. Some of the same students were there, but there were others Harry didn't know and he found it just a little sad. He had enjoyed staying at St. Jude's, even though he had sworn that he would not. He had come to love that funny little school with the therapy sessions and classrooms mixed into the same building with the dormitories. It was odd, but he had liked it.
"Harry!" Harry looked up to see Paul coming out of the hallway that led to his office. "Come on back, buddy. It's good to see you." Paul slung an arm around Harry's shoulders like they were old buddies.
"Good to see you, too, Paul." Harry smiled as Paul didn't seem to want to let go. Harry relaxed at the sight of the familiar office and went straight for Zen's cage.
"Hello, lightning child," Zen said with a sketchy sort of snake bow. "It is nice to see you." Harry smiled and looked to Paul for permission to take Zen out of his cage. Paul could only roll his eyes and nod. Harry took off the top of the cage and lowered his wrist for Zen to wrap himself around.
"Hi, Zen. I can only hold you for a few minutes, as I am here on official business." Harry told him, caressing the snake.
"I understand, my lightning child. Have you a mouse?" At the familiar plea, Harry laughed and translated for Paul.
"He's already had a mouse," Paul objected. "Tell him he'll get sick if he eats another one so soon."
Harry obliged and Zen deflated in disappointment. "Not even a tiny mouse?"
"Afraid not," Harry returned Zen to his cage at Paul's request, promising to send him a mouse in the near future. He turned and dropped onto the sofa. It felt like he had never left. It was nice to see that some things didn't change. Paul opened the mini-fridge and rummaged inside. He pulled out two Cokes and held one out to hand. Harry only twitched a finger and his floated to him.
"Looks like you finally got everything under control with that," Paul said, watching as Harry opened his soda.
"Fully and totally in control," Harry informed him. "Nothing can shake my magic now, Paul. It's instinctive."
Paul studied him for a minute before setting his soda aside. "Harry, in spite of the total control, you don't look well. Why don't you tell me what's going on?"
Harry chuckled a little and sipped his soda. "It's funny, Paul. I'm supposed to be this great actor, but I can't fool you when something is bothering me." Harry leaned his head back and sighed, trying to figure out how to put this without sounding like the deceiver he really was.
"Start at the beginning, Harry," Paul said softly. "That's usually the best place."
Harry stared off into the corner, trying to find the words he wanted to say to Paul. "I-" Harry halted and scrubbed at his face with his hands, then sighed, "I don't know how to tell you this." Harry stalled. What should he tell Paul to soothe his suspicions? He couldn't say anything like: "Oh, hey, remember that man trying to kill me? I'm his secret student…" or "Remember Bleys? Yeah, he told me the funniest thing the other day…" Anything beyond something normal would have him re-admitted here or somewhere else… possibly with forceful sedation techniques and padded walls. Harry fought off a shudder. He knew places like that existed. His hands came to rest on his face again and he felt someone poke his knee. Harry removed his hands and looked at Paul.
"Stop hiding."
"I'm not hiding!" Harry snapped. He grimaced and dropped his voice. "Sorry. I honestly don't know how to begin, and it's making me irritable." Harry tapped his feet and looked around the office in an effort to gather the words he needed to explain.
Paul watched the teen fidget for a few more seconds before opening a drawer in his desk and pulling out a familiar set of candle and matches. He struck the match and lit the candle, setting it where Harry could see. Harry noticed the flame and he stared at it, grateful to see something else to distract him in the room as antsy as he was.
Paul waited, near physically seeing the wheels in Harry's mind quiet down. Harry became very still, so still that it almost scared Paul. His eyes glazed over and his neck relaxed, allowing his head to droop in a way that screamed exhaustion. "I-" Harry was startled at the sound of his own voice. Then he tried again, "I'm stuck, Paul. I'm stuck."
Paul leaned forward, afraid to make any noise that would disturb him should Harry stop talking. So he waited.
"I'm stuck. There's no way out. I've started this, and this will end me." Harry's breath caught in his throat. Paul waited, but Harry just sat there.
"How will it be the end of you?" Paul asked finally.
Harry blinked and he let his eyes slowly leave the candle to travel to Paul's face. What Paul saw there was not encouraging and he felt something deep inside tell him that Harry was in danger. "Voldemort's student has been attacking Muggle towns with the Death Eaters. Strangely, there is a direct correlation between the student's attacks and confused Muggles. Also, there is an undeniable relationship between the times Voldemort's student spends out rampaging with the Death Eaters and my sleepless nights."
Paul studied his hands as he put together the pieces. Direct correlations… Relationships... He froze, afraid to finish that last logical step. "Oh, Harry," He said sadly. "He got to you."
"He has me," Harry said, his voice quiet. "There's nothing to do, Paul. No way to stop it. I have to see it through, whether I like it or not. I don't know what's going to happen after that, but I must see this through."
"Surely, there is some way to change this," Paul said, his determination sounding weak and hollow in his own ears.
"I tried. Believe me, I tried. Bleys tried. Nothing will change it. Nothing can stop it. It will come, and when it does, it will end me." Harry paused, considering his words before saying them, "Want to know what's really strange about all of this, Paul? The really sick and twisted part of it?" Harry laughed a little and spoke, "I don't mind. I'm ready for it to end."
Author's Note 2: Again, to keep up with what I'm doing, join my website. I have a blog there. You can find my website through my bio. "What is Right: Year Two" is underway.