Author's Note: Hello everyone! How long has it been? Two months maybe? I'm so sorry for the delay. I had a lot of technical difficulties with this chapter. My computer (may it rest in peace) recently met an untimely end so I've had to find more unconventional ways to do my writing. Plus classes started and I have a lot of extracurricular activities so I have almost no free time. I'll still try to make more frequent updates in future. This chapter takes place over the course of one hour, so sorry if it seems short. I swear it's the same length as all the others. I really hope you enjoy it! As always, I love reviews. Especially detailed ones. So let me know what you think!

"So," James said, handing me a glass of Elf-made wine and taking a seat across from me, "tell me about your week."

It was eleven o'clock on New Year's Eve. The entire Weasley family was relaxing in the garden, and James had enticed me into climbing up to the roof of the Burrow, claiming that it would provide a better view of the fireworks. I wasn't fooled by this, but I found myself nodding and winding my way up the rickety stairs and onto the uneven panels of the Burrow roof behind him. We'd laid out a quilted blanket and acquired a bottle of elf made wine then settled down for the evening.

"It was...enlightening." I replied, taking a sip of wine and shuddering pleasantly as the smooth liquid slid down my throat. James grinned impishly at me.

"What? You weren't overjoyed at being greeted as the grand mistress of the house?"

I dipped my index finger into my glass and flicked it at him. The volley of droplets lost heart mid-way through their flight and splashed onto the blanket but I felt confident that my irritation had been conveyed.

"Of course I didn't. My house-elf at the manor doesn't even greet me as exuberantly as Kreacher did. Granted, Chrysanthemum isn't really the excitable type."

The Potters, Scorpius, and I had arrived at Grimauld Place early Tuesday morning and Kreacher's reaction to my and my brother's presence had been nothing short of hysterical...

I took a deep, gasping breath as the small square around me came into to full focus. Certain I would hate apparition until the day I died, I quickly released James' arm. I ignored his brief glance and turned my attention to my surroundings. The Potters, Scorpius and I were standing in a small square surrounded by houses on all sides except the one that merged with the street. The buildings were tall and proud and looked well taken care of.

"This is nice." I commented politely. Mr. and Mrs. Potter exchanged a glance then began to chuckle.

"Trust me, it wasn't always like this." Mrs. Potter said. Before I could inquire further, the Potters began to stride as one toward a particular house. Scorpius and I followed and we all came to a stop in front of a pair of houses: number 11 and number 13. I stared at the comical mis-numbering of the houses and was about to laugh out loud when the buildings began squeezing apart to make room for another building materialising between them. The new structure was as tall and grand as its neighbours, except with the added touch that it could pop in and out of existence of course.

The six of us stepped on to the front porch and filed through the front door, pulling our luggage behind us. Mr. Potter lit a lamp just inside the door with his wand, casting eery yellow light around the immediate area. I examined what was visible. We were in a narrow hallway that led to a plain wooden door. On the left there was a set of narrow steps leading up into the higher levels of the house. The walls looked newly painted with a neutral cream colour and the oaken, wooden floorboards were set tightly together on the floor. Mr. Potter waved his wand again and more lights blazed to life, brightening the foray considerably. Relaxing visibly, Lily called,

"Kreacher!" The door at the end of the hallway swung open to reveal the oldest and most decrepit house-elf I had ever seen. He wore a neat white toga and carried a sterling silver tray with several tea cups balanced upon it. The house-elf, Kreacher I presumed, began to sink into a bow. Then his enormous, watery, brown eyes caught sight of me. I registered a split second of recognition in his eyes before the tea tray crashed to the floor and Kreacher ran at me with pure, unadulterated happiness stretching across his face. He flung himself onto the wooden floor before me and I stumbled back into an umbrella stand that looked unsettlingly like a troll's leg. Kreacher exclaimed,

"At last! It has happened! Kreacher was thinking he would never see the day!"

"The day of what?" I stammered.

"The day a true Black returned to this house."

Then he spotted Scorpius and his overlarge grin stretched even wider. "Two Blacks! Oh Master Potter is being so kind to Kreacher. Bringing Kreacher's family to see him!"

"Er..." Mr. Potter said uncertainly.

"Master Scorpius and Mistress Olivera must come. Kreacher must be showing his masters the tapestry."

The elf grabbed Scorpius and my hands and yanked us up the narrow staircase. He pulled us along, up creaking stairs, past paintings of swaying wheat fields, and into a high-ceilinged room that I identified as a sort of drawing room. Kreacher scampered over to an enormous banner on the far wall and beckoned Scorpius and I to him. We exchanged a glance before treading over.

The tapestry we stood before was a deep emerald green with silver lines running like trickles of water along the length of the fabric, connecting names and occasionally burnt patches that looked like minor wand burns. Kreacher pointed to a group of names near the relative end of the tapestry. Examining it, I found the name Narcissa Black connected the name Lucius Malfoy. From their names extended a silver line to another name, Draco Malfoy. My father's name cast out a silver band to Astoria Greengrass. From their names extended two more lines to Scorpius Malfoy and Olivera Malfoy. After deciphering the identities of my immediate family, my eye roved over the whole tapestry, examining the names and dates that could only belong to, I had come to the conclusion, my family.

"Every Black ever born. Past and present." Kreacher said reverantly.

"What about these things?" Scorpius asked, pointing to one of the singed patches connected to Narcissa Black and Bellatrix Black.

"Those was the people my old Mistress was finding to be dishonouring her name. They is not bad people. Kreacher is knowing that now. But my old Mistress had her hang ups."

"So that used to be Andromeda. Teddy's Grandmother." Came Lily's voice. I turned to find the Potters standing behind us. Lily was motioning to the burn mark Scorpius had just pointed out. Kreacher nodded and stared at the tapestry once more.

"Every Black ever born. Past and present." Kreacher repeated. "You two is being descended from very great and powerful people, sir and miss." He informed Scorpius and me.

"And some not so great people." Said Mrs. Potter, eyeing the name Bellatrix Black bitterly. The bite in her tone was almost tangible. I looked away from the tapestry, not wanting to stare at the names of torturers and murderers anymore.

Unfortunately, when I turned away I found myself looking at James. His handsome face was stretched into a taught, angry mask that I was all too familiar with. I felt my chest squeeze painfully, feeling hurt and disappointment flood through me. Then he caught my eye and his expression relaxed considerably. I knew he was struggling. Struggling with the fact that I was related to so many ruthless and evil people who had haunted wizarding history for hundreds of years. But I could see a light at the end of the tunnel. A small beacon of hope that said maybe, just maybe, he would be able to accept it. Some day.

James re-alerted me to the conversation by saying,

"Be that as it may, according to Kreacher, I'm in the presence of royalty."

"Oh shut up, would you?" I said, rolling my eyes. "You know I don't like being treated like that."

"I know, I know." He said, verbally retreating. There were several crickets of silence. "So what else did you do?" He asked, obviously trying to change the subject.

"Er, went to Janie's house."

"And how did that go?" James asked casually, moving his glass in a circular motion so that its contents sloshed cyclically. Across the yard I could hear someone shouting drunkenly at the sky.

"It was fun. And also…enlightening."

"What do you mean? What happened?"

The grim-faced auror who had been assigned to escort me to this point hung back at the edge of the Pullizzano property. There were no magical wards preventing entry, but there was a ferocious looking pit bull tied up at the fence. Apparently he could face dark wizards and enormous monsters, but dogs were beyond him.

Rolling my eyes, I passed through the white picket fence and proceeded to knock on the front door of the square, suburban house. Mrs. Pullizzano, a kind-faced, olive-skinned woman answered on the second knock.

"Vera!" She exclaimed, pulling me into a one-armed hug and pecking my cheek. "So lovely to see you again!"

"You as well, Mrs. Pullizano." I muttered, trying to banish my discomfort at being embraced so warmly.

"Well come in." Mrs. Pullizzano said, nodding politely at the grim-faced auror who still stood just beyond the gate.

I was engulfed in a cloud of long, strait black hair the second I cleared the threshold.

"Vera! I missed you so much. How are you? I read about you in the paper! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Janie. Don't worry about it."

"You have to tell me everything!" She demanded.

"I'm sure she will if you allow her to breathe, Janetta." Said Mr. Pullizzano, emerging from a door behind which I knew the kitchen lay. "We were just sitting down to tea, Vera. Would you like to join us?"

"I'd love to, Mr. Pullizzano."

He chuckled lightly. "How many times have I told you to call me Gregorio?"

"She's English, Gregorio. You know that's just their way." Mrs. Pullizzano scolded. I laughed as the four of us proceeded to the sitting room.

The sitting room was neat and smelled of cinnamon. A pale green couch occupied the center of the room, facing an enormous, flat, black television. A small, olive-skinned boy lounged on the plump couch, operating a small, handheld device I knew muggle children used to play games. His brown eyes widened in terror when he caught sight of me and he promptly hopped up and scurried away.

Janie looked mildly embarrassed at her brother's flight.

"Sorry about Antonio. He is uncomfortable around people like…like us."

"Don't worry about it." I replied honestly. I knew better than Janie did that he had every right to be afraid of wizards.

Mr. Pullizzano, Janie, and I congregated around the coffee table while Mrs. Pullizzano went to fetch the teakettle.

"So, Ms. Vera, remind me, you go to that Pigfarts school also?"

"Papa!" Janie groaned. "It's called Hogwarts! I've been there for six years. How many times do I have to tell you?"

"You wizards are odd folk." Mr. Pullizzano stated, shaking his head and furrowing his dark eyebrows. "Who in their right mind would name a respectable establishment after a skin blemish on a farm animal?"

I chuckled good-naturedly. "Don't worry Mr. – I mean – Gregorio. Us wizards have been wondering that for centuries."

"Gregorio! Auito por favore!" Mrs. Pullizzano called from the kitchen.

"Un minuto, Belinda!" Mr. Pullizzano called back. "Excuse me just a moment."

"So tell me what happened!" Janie demanded the moment the moment her father was out of ear-shot.

"Nothing really. Abus and I were having dinner down in the village and some mad old gits attacked us. I don't know much more than anyone else."

Janie looked disappointed at the lack of drama but brightened instantly.

"So you and Al were having dinner together, huh? Alone?" She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh shove off." I groaned. "You know it's not like that."

"I know, I know. I just wanted to make sure nothing had changed."

"No." I said. "Why would it have?"

She shrugged, "I dunno. Some reporter came over asking about you and Al a few days ago."

I froze. "What else did he ask?" I questioned, trying to keep an even tone.

"About your relationship with the Potters."

"And what did you tell him?" I probed.

She shrugged again, "The truth. That you and Albus are best friends, that Ginny and Harry invited you for Christmas and seem to like you, that Lily loves you like a sister, and that James is secretly in love with you and everyone knows but you and him."

"You told that to a reporter?" I gasped.

"Yeah, why?"

"The Potters get a lot of media attention. I'm just afraid they'll find out that…" I broke off, realizing I'd nearly thrown out a fact I had no intention of following up. Janie wasn't fooled.

"That they'll find out what?"

I sighed, realizing I'd just backed myself into a corner. "James and I kinda…snogged a few times…" I muttered.

Janie let out a small, excited screech. "Alright, I'll forgive you for not owling me right away if you tell me what happened."

I sighed and gave her a brief James-related synopsis covering the last few days. Janie listened so intently you would have thought I was intimating the meaning of life to her. She stared at me with wide-eyes when I finished. It didn't take her long to recover however.

"I knew it! I knew there was something going on. I just thought you'd get all miffed if I brought it up."

"Yes well…don't tell anyone okay?"

"I won't, I won't. Especially not…" She interrupted herself with another gasp. "But what about Donovan? Does he know?"

"Yes, I told him."

"And did you two…break up?"

"I'm not sure." I replied thoughtfully.

"How can you not know?"

"Well at the time I thought we did but James said it didn't sound like it."

Janie gasped again. "And James? Are you going with him now?"

I was spared the agony of trying to articulate a response by Mr. and Mrs. Pullizzano, who chose to re-enter the room at that moment.

Tea with the Pullizzanos was not quite the raucous affair I could always expect from the Weasleys, but was at least more entertaining than ones I had experienced with my family. Afterward, Janie and I ventured up to her bedroom and passed several happy hours in feminine bliss. Janie painted my nails with colour-changing nail potion and Witch Weekly informed me that my ideal celebrity match was Magnus Bowen, the broody, dark-haired bass player of the band Incendio.

At half past six, Mrs. Pullizzano called us down to eat. Supper with the Pullizzano's would have been delicious if I hadn't been unfortunate enough to choose a seat next to Janie's brother, Antonio. He stared at me with wide eyes throughout the entire meal and refused to answer any questions I directed at him. After dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Pullizzano, Janie, and I sat down in front of the television afterward and Janie introduced me to all of her favourite muggled programs and something called a DVR that allowed you fast forward while watching a live television show. I was almost positive it had been invented by wizards. I became so engrossed in the workings of the muggle devises that I wasn't even aware of the doorbell ringing.

Mrs. Pullizzano went to answer the door. Janie and I sat, watching the brightly coloured screen depicting a muggle sitcom. I was so involved in the show that I jumped when Mrs. Pullizzano called,

"Er, Vera, it's for you." I stood up, my brow furrowed in confusion. A second later, a man entered the room followed by Mrs. Pullizzano. He was a stranger to me, with shaggy brown hair and long black robes. Behind me, Janie stood up,

"Clive, what are you doing here?"

"Hello, er, Jean. A little owl told me that your friend, Ms. Malfoy was here. I thought I'd drop in and ask her a few questions."

Janie looked confused. "But last time you came you said you had all you needed."

"For that story, yes. But now I'm working on something new. And I'm being terribly rude." He addressed me, "I'm Clive Tyler. I work for the Daily Prophet. I'm working on a human-interest piece right now concerning ancient wizarding families and I'd love to hear you take on it. Would you mind sitting down with me for a few moments so I can ask you some questions?"

"I…er…"

"Excellent." Clive Tyler said, seeming to take my lack of a negation as an affirmation. He strode over to the couch and planted himself upon it. I stayed where I was, dumbfounded and exchanging bewildered looks with the Pullizzanos.

"Ms. Malfoy, if you'll join me." He patted the cushion beside him. I approached the couch hesitantly and sat down as far from Clive Tyler as physically possible. When I had taken a seat, he pulled out a small notepad and quill.

"So, Ms. Malfoy, first question: Where are your parents?"

"Um, abroad." I replied, as enigmatically as possible.

"Where exactly?"

Being a Malfoy, I knew when someone was digging, and from personal experience I knew exactly how to reply. First rule: always act innocent.

"I don't quite remember, actually." Second rule: add details. "I think the name of the country started with a 'B.' Burma maybe? Perhaps Brazil. It might have been Bulgaria."

A vein pulsed in Clive Tyler's temple. My nonchalance appeared to be doing the trick.

"Have you had any correspndence with them? Letters perhaps?"

"None that I've kept." I lied. "We're not exactly a sentimental lot if you can imagine."

"I see." He said, scribbling threateningly on his notepad. "So I'm told you're staying with the Potters during winter break?"

"What of it?" I replied coolly.

"Nothing. I was just wondering about your brother. Scorpius, isn't it? Is he staying with you as well?"

I was quite sure how to respond to this. I didn't know what the public knew or suspected about my brother's whereabouts, nor what they should know. Trying to keep my voice stoic I said,

"I think he was planning on staying at school."

Clive Tyler raised an eyebrow victoriously. My heart sank.

"Really? Because I was down at Hogwarts earlier this week visiting my dear old friend, Professor Blank, the head of Slytherin house you know, and he let slip that Scorpius planned on returning home to Malfoy Manor."

"Did you not find it unusual that your parents left the country without you? Do they leave you alone frequently?"

I shrugged non-commitally. "My father is a very busy man. He has to associate with important people all over the world."

"I see." Clive Tyler made another purposeful note on his notepad. "And what about your relationship with the Potters?"

"What about it?" I asked defensively.

"Well your family has a history with the dark arts. I find it hard to believe that Mr. Harry Potter, the conquerer of Lord Voldemort, doesn't have any problem with that."

I grit my teeth. "Mr. Potter has never been anything but kind to me."

"I see." Clive said again, "What about your parents? Don't they have a problem with your relationship with the Potters?"

My hands curled into fists. "My mother and father have the highest respect for Mr. Potter and my choices."

Clive Tyler seemed unsatisfied with this answer, but rallied almost immediately.

"So I've been told by several of your friends and classmates that you have a uniquely close relationship with one James Potter. Care to comment?"

"No." I replied simply.

"Oh come on. Give me the juicy details, just between friends."

I had to try very hard to keep a straight face. "No thank you, sir. And I think it would be best if you left now."

"No need to be like that dear. I was just asking a few innocent questions."

"I think I heard her ask you to leave." Said a calm voice from the doorway. We all turned to find Mr. Potter standing in the doorway wearing black robes and looking uncharacteristically grim. Clive Tyler stood instantly.

"Just doing my job, sir. No harm done."

"You're harassing a private citizen on private property. I consider that harm."

Clive Tyler raised his hands defensively in front of himself.

"Alright, take it easy Potter. But while you're here, would you mind answering a few questions?"

Mr. Potter folded his arms and adopted a stance that so obviously said, 'no' that I was shocked when Clive continued,

"How do you feel about young Ms. Malfoy's relationship with your two sons?"

Mr. Potter raised an eyebrow, "I think Ms. Malfoy is a lovely young lady woman and I'm honoured to have her staying under my roof."

Clive looked incredibly disappointed with this response but was not down for long. His face brightened,

"So you can confirm that Ms. Malfoy is indeed staying in your home?"

"Yes. Now please, get out."

Clive Tyler raised an eyebrow at him but continued scribbling on his notepad.

"One last question – "

"I think you may have misunderstood me. That wasn't a request. I told you to get out." Mr. Potter drew his wand threateningly.

Apparently Mr. Clive Tyler wasn't so stupid that he was going to stick around when Harry Potter had his wand pointed at him.

"Yes, well…alright." He tucked his notepad and quill away. "Nice seeing you again, Joanne, Mr. and Mrs. Pulli – er – System."

He tipped an imaginary had and strode from the room. There was a pause.

"I think it's time we got going, Vera." Said Mr. Potter pointedly. I nodded and retrieved my wand and traveling cloak.

"Thank you so much for having me, Mr. and Mrs. Pullizzano." I shook both of their hands.

"Of course dear. Come back anytime." Said Mrs. Pullizzano, eying me with concern. I nodded to her and hugged Janie good-bye before following Mr. Potter through the front door.

"Sorry your visit had to be cut short, Vera."

"It's alright." I muttered as we set off down the walkway.

"In any case, I want you to promise me something."

"What is it?" I asked curiously.

"When this Clive Tyler bloke tries to harass you again at a private location, and make no mistake, he will, I want you to send your patronus to me and I'll have him arrested for trespassing before he even pulls out his notepad.

"Of course, sir. Thank you."

We reached the gate. Mr. Potter stopped and turned to face me,

"My kids seem to have decided you're one of the family now, and I protect my family no matter what."

I was unable to reply for a moment. I was thoroughly touched by his inclusion of me.

"Thank you. I really appreciate it, er, Harry."

He smiled mischeviously at me. "I suppose you better get used to calling me dad now."

I couldn't help grinning. "Alright, Dad."

Then we disapparated.

"So up until that Prophet bloke showed up you had a good time?" James asked casually.

"Yes it was quite fun. Janie painted my nails. I found out which famous wizard I'm destined to fall in love with."

"Does that include children of famous wizards?" James waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"I'm afraid not."

"So who's my competition?" He cast me his lopsided grin.

"Magnus Bowen."

"I see. You know, I've been told I look sort of like him. What do you think?"

I giggled and examined his face obligingly. "Hmmm, perhaps if I squint my eyes and turn my head like this. And maybe back up a few metres."

"Oh ha-ha." Said James sarcastically.

Laughing, I lay back onto the patchwork blanket and examined the world above me. Colourful pre-midnight, fireworks gleamed almost as brightly as the stars against the charcoal sky. The sounds of crickets singing and people laughing floated up from the ground to meet my ears. I enjoyed several minutes of this serene scene before the roof creaked as James lay down beside me. His smooth voice interrupted the nighttime soundtrack.

"So have you given any thought to what you're going to do when we go back to school?"

"Oh I don't know," I replied casually, "Homework, Quidditch practice, prefect duties…the usual."

"That's not what I meant." He said, with a small laugh in his voice.

"I know." Was my reply. The breath he let out sounded slightly frustrated. "I'm still thinking." I said, trying to appease him at least momentarily.

"Can you share your thought process with me?"

I sighed. "I think Don and I will have to break up. That's probably what he wants anyway. Then I guess I'll see where things take me from there."

"Have you ever thought about being taken towards me?" He said, abandoning any coyness he'd previously possessed.

I was hesitant in answering. "I don't know what to say really. You know how I feel about you, James. I'm just not sure what to do about it yet. What do you intend to do?"

He thought for a moment. "I intend to spend an awful lot of time around this extraordinary girl I know."

I sighed again, trying not to be lured in by his attractive words. "And what about Don? Isn't he one of your best friends? We both care about him. Do you really think we can do that to him?"

I turned to look at James when he didn't respond. His handsome face was twisted into a deeply troubled expression. I almost felt guilty for bringing it up.

"I haven't quite figured that one out yet to be honest. When I try…things start to get complicated."

"Exactly. Complicated. That's hardly the only complicated thing about it. I mean, my brother despises you. And you hate him and every other member of my family. What do you think would happen if I ever tried to bring you home?"

"Well hopefully your grandfather's eyesight will have grown poor enough that he won't be able to curse me before I can get far enough away to aparate."

I rolled my eyes, trying not to laugh. "Oh come off it. I'm serious. What would a relationship with you even be like?"

"Well I have references…but you probably wouldn't want to reference any of them…and you're right, Vera. It would be complicated. But what relationship isn't? I'd like to think it would be worth it."

"How?" I asked, desperation shining through my voice even as I tried to force it down. "Don't get me wrong, I want to. I really want to. But…"

My sentence was lost in the night air when I turned to look at him. He was staring at me with brown eyes that were irresistible even in the dark. He rolled onto his front then reached up to push my hair back from my eyes.

"You want to know what a relationship with me would be like? How about I tell you what our first official date would be?"

I nodded wordlessly.

"Alright. One evening we would be sitting in your favorite armchair in front of the fire, and I would lean over to you and whisper in your ear. I'd tell you to meet me in the common room just after midnight. Then I'd tell you good night and we would go our separate ways to bed. At midnight you'd come down the stairs and find me already waiting in the common room. I'd pretend I'd just woken up, but really I was so eager to be alone with you I hadn't even gone to sleep. Then I'd wrap an arm around your waist and pull you close and we'd climb out of the portrait hole. From there, I would take you everywhere. I'd show you things about Hogwarts castle you've never dreamed of. Every night until you've seen all the wonders I've found. Then at the end of each night I'd pull you even closer and whisper to you that of all the things I've encountered, you are the most extraordinary."

My heart was racing by the end of his speech as I imagined the sights he described, and felt the sensations he intimated. I searched my brain for a clever response.

"You forgot the part where Filch or McGonagall catches us and puts us in detention for the rest of our lives."

James grinned impishly at me. "Don't worry. I have ways of escaping notice. How else would I have found all this stuff and still have my prefect badge?"

I raised an eyebrow at him. "And what, oh clever marauder, are these mysterious ways?"

"You have to agree to the date first." He grinned even wider. I glared at him in mock suspicion for several moments, but his confident smile never withered. Then I said grudgingly,

"Alright fine. But only after we tie up these loose ends. Then we'll just see where it goes from there."

"Excellent." Said James, casting me a brilliant grin. "Oh look, the fireworks are starting."

"Well someone's a bit full of himself…"

He laughed out loud. "No, Vera, the real fireworks. Look." He pointed to the distant skyline, where a series of brilliant, colourful lights and intricate shapes had erupted as though from a volcano. I saw a vivid orange dragon, a yellow badger, a scarlet and gold lion, a silver and green snake, and a blue and bronze raven, followed by a series of multicoloured flowers, a golden cauldron, a purple witch's hat, a cup of steaming tea, a maroon lightening bolt, a silver owl, different logos from professional Quidditch teams, all culminating in the enormous letters: HAPPY NEW YEAR!

I laughed and clapped vigorously when the show finished. That brilliant George Weasley. I still couldn't figure out how he created such marvelous inventions. I turned to James to observe his reaction and found him staring at me intently.

"What?" I asked, beginning to feel uncomfortable.

"Nothing." He reached out and ran his fingers through my hair, frowning. "I just wish I could do more than touch your hair without feeling guilty."

I leaned over and pressed my lips gently to his cheek. His skin was so warm against mine that I almost didn't pull away.

"Soon." I promised.

"Soon." He agreed, lacing his fingers in mine.