A/N: Adult content warning: adult language and a one-person shower scene in this one, folks. Don't like it, don't read it. :)

~SSHG~SSHG~SSHG~SSHG~

Chapter 5

...Comes Worry and Perspective

His shower was his sanctuary.

Severus's night had gone from bad to worse, which could only be expected from the fucked up existence he typically lived. When he had gotten back to his rooms, at long fucking last, he had immediately gone into the bath to take a shower. He needed it terribly. As the water heated, he went to the small bar he had stocked in his sitting room and poured himself a brandy, swishing the liquor around in his glass before letting the liquid pour down his throat and warm him from the inside out. He relaxed into the soothing burn in his throat before he stripped and got under the equally soothing warm water. Like the other staff and prefect baths, his shower was large and roomy, several spouts spewing water from different directions onto the stone that layers the walls and ground. He had several different types of shampoo that he used simultaneously, as well as a couple different conditioners. Having been made fun of the majority of his life for having greasy hair, he had taken great lengths to ebb away the grease. Thankfully, once he was out of puberty's range his locks regained some normalcy, but he still had to fight fairly hard to keep his hair looking normal. At the end of every day, he'd take a warm shower and wash his hair carefully, and when he woke the next morning his head would look normal. Yet that never seemed to stop his plight completely- it seemed the longer his days became, the more greasy his hair would become.

He hated it.

As he washed out the last of his third bout of shampooing, he decided his plan for the night- he was going to give himself a moment to relax. After learning about the Potter boy coming into his Beginning Potions class after one of the most boring staff meetings that Dumbledore had ever held, he knew he would need it. All he wanted to do was enjoy the sensation of the warm water spilling over his skin, cleanse himself, then sit down by his fireplace and enjoy a good, light book before tucking himself into his warm bed.

The sensation of the water spilling over his skin loosened his muscles and let his mind run away from its tightly-kept prison. Normally, Severus was very careful about where his thoughts would roam, he kept his mind like a tightly-running ship- controlling his emotions and disciplining his mind had become common practice for him after designating himself to be a spy for the old croc- but his hours in the shower were the only time where he would truly allow himself to relax. And with that relaxation… well, he was a single, 30-something man. What could one expect?

He never got the chance to hire what he would call "assistance" during the school year, unless he met someone willing somewhere in Hogsmeade during an outing, so naturally his time alone in the shower was paramount in his day, not just for rigorous cleansing, but for personal enjoyment. He tilted his head back as he let water spill over his nude form, warming his skin as he imagined some faceless woman running her hands over him wherever he felt contact against his skin. It wasn't the same as a real woman, no, and it certainly wasn't the same as if her hands were running over his body, but he tried not to think about that. He lowered his hands to himself and felt himself become rigid in his palm, stroking in a pleasant rhythm. He let his mind roam to the pleasantries of fantasy as his hand began to stroke with more purpose, his rhythm quickening. He felt the coil within his lower abdomen tighten as his drive for release propelled him deeper into his erotic thoughts. He imagined a mouth closing over his cock, sucking him in identical strokes as his hand was now. He was getting closer. His breathing was erratic as he imagined the last sexual encounter he'd had, the woman from the bar outside of Spinner's End, how her tight quim had felt as he plunged into it, how her moans and screams lit up the pleasure center of his brain from the pillow in which he face was buried.

A thud. His eyes opened. His hand stilled.

He didn't hear another sound, but he knew he had heard the first. It had come from the other side of the wall, in the sitting room. He cursed himself for being as attentive as he was. True, it was necessary, but interruptions, especially in a key part of his nightly routine, were not appreciated. He listened for a few more moments before deciding he would investigate. It didn't take much to ruin the mood for him, though it did make his reactions to said interruptions much more explosive if he were caught at the proper moment. He couldn't wait to get his hands on the intruder for that exact reason- he would have someone to take his anger out on. He turned the water off with a squeak and dried himself off quickly, wrapping his torso up in a towel, his cock now almost completely flaccid as his blood left it once again. He still didn't hear anything, though he supposed he'd better check anyways. With a final growl he left the bathroom, ready to scare the living hell out of whoever dared disturb him with the sight of his pale, angry body clad in nothing but a towel.

He turned towards the sitting room and froze as a young woman did the same, holding up what he recognized to be an invisibility cloak over her head, like she was about to place it on herself again. He had stared at her in absolute shock, though he tried to only let his initial rage show, and he supposed she was also staring for a similar reason. A young woman in his chambers… whom he had never seen before. The thought nearly had him brace himself against the wall, but he forced himself to remain composed. Not only that, but she was pretty… beautiful even. She had large brown eyes like a calf, and curly hair of the same color. Her pale skin glowed elegantly in the firelight from the fireplace, her lithe fairly athletic form visible underneath her black and deep red robes, a professionally deep V-neck showing off the beginning of the mounds that formed her breasts. It almost as if her very presence were seducing him…

But that didn't change the fact that she was an intruder.

Severus leapt back into action, shaking himself of his inappropriate thoughts- which he had already chalked up to being due to his lack of climax in the shower- just as she revolved back to the land of the living herself. He summoned his wand with his dominant hand and pointed it at her, where she was now wandless with her hands in the air, looking quite scared.

You'd better be, he'd thought.

She'd introduced herself as Hermione Granger, and oddly elegant yet official name, in his opinion. She appeared to know him, even though he had no idea who she could possibly be, save for her name. She was also very afraid of him, which gave him some power-footing at least. However, there had been that assessment of him- the way her eyes drifted across his face, skimmed over his Mark, and then began to fall lazily down until she was nearly ogling the very part of his body that she'd disrupted the most when she made that first thud into his sitting room. The look in her eyes was practically hungry, and in that moment Severus nearly rolled his eyes, recognizing the situation as something akin to a muggle pornography video. And yet, his still-untamed libido was more than happy to have her look so hungrily in that area so desperately far below his face. Perhaps, in some alternate reality, she could simply be some wandering girl who happened to magic herself into his rooms for the sole purpose of seducing him, bringing him to bed with her and... so forth.

But the moment passed as quickly as it had come, instead replaced by pure embarrassment on the woman's part as she began to blush deeply, highlighted by the glow from the fireplace. Severus regained himself, willing the blood that was beginning to flow back into his lower region to ebb back into the rest of his body. Luckily, she didn't seem to notice. That's when she'd said she was from the future, and his thoughts immediately went from the lewd to the woman standing before him- a liar. He nearly hexed her until she mentioned the letter in her bag, which he summoned with ease. She had watched him while he read, which he wasn't sure if he liked much or was even comfortable with. The letter, however, had been simple, short to the point.

Oh, and written by his dead self from a portrait.

"To the Half-Blood Prince,

"Could we have concocted a more ludicrous title? I'm sure the Dark Lord is the only one to top our bullshit. "

And there it was, the proof the woman, Granger, was talking about. Nobody ever knew about the title of the Half-Blood Prince except Lily, who had mocked him in good nature for it, yet in his older years he had become much more critical of himself for the title. It made sense that his future self would used that title as proof enough that the girl wasn't lying. But could she be trusted?

"I am writing from the frame of a portrait that was hung in your classroom. I am you, as you know, but from the future. The following will be news, but digest it carefully, as events will decidedly be shifted in your timeline compared to mine once Hermione appears before you. I died on May the second of 1998 by the Dark Lord's command, specifically his wretched snake, Nagini's, bite. He will return in Harry Potter's fourth year, the night of the final stage of the Triwizard Tournament. You will know specifics when the time comes. Hermione is in your time, in her words, to save the people who will be lost to the war over its course, however she will do by eliminating the Dark Lord entirely, or by at least weakening him. She has enough knowledge to do so, and she will tell you of her plan in time- give her such."

Hermione, eh? Severus thought, First name basis. Worthy of note, at least. No one, save for Albus, Lily, his parents, and a few members of the staff at Hogwarts were on a first name basis with Severus throughout his lifetime. To be that close to the woman… well, it was too early to make any guesses, even educated ones.

"Hermione is exceptionally smart and strategic, as you will soon know. She is known to be the brightest witch of her age. She is a Gryffindor, likely enough, but don't let it fool you- she's not like the rest of them. She uses her bravery wisely, and she is smart enough to know when to be properly scared. Additionally, she is wise enough to know how to use her mind and logic in situations where she is properly scared. A trait you will learn to appreciate in others apart from yourself.

"She will be a first year come the first of September. She will be in your Beginning Potions class with the Slytherins on Fridays, the best student in her class by far. She will not be very likeable in her younger years, but I assure you she is not the person you would think her to be. She is very academic, becoming one of the most advanced students you will teach and eventually becoming Head Girl. In many ways she is like us: unaccepted, booksmart, logical, meticulous, and academically inclined in every sense of the word. Unlike us, she will get lucky and find good friends in her house. Ironically, one of them is Harry Potter. The other is Ronald Weasley. The three of them will manage to find themselves in heaps of trouble starting the moment they all become friends, when a troll is released into the second floor corridor and finds its way into the girls' bathroom, where Hermione will be. Potter and Weasley will find her, only to ignorantly believe that they will be able to take down the menace. Due to nothing but pure luck, they manage the task. Hermione will lie for them in order to keep them from detention- which is very characteristic of her, to put her neck on the line or to sacrifice herself for the sake of those she cares for. She is also an advocate for those less admired in wizarding society- she will create the movement of S.P.E.W. , which is the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, to free house elves from enslavement (she is still stubborn to the notion that many of them enjoy their work to a degree). She will also be a thorn in your side over helping a boy named Neville Longbottom in Potions, whom she will constantly attempt to aid during class. I could continue, but that would be a waste of parchment. You will understand all soon enough. To add, if you mention any of these facts or events in the slightest to her, she is bound to fill in the blank for you completely without prompting. She is quite desperate to please her superiors, especially her professors, and you will still be one of them in her eyes, despite her being three years out of school."

Great. A know-it-all, Severus hummed in his head. However, the next few words caught his attention as he shifted his thumb up to continue reading for the rest of the page and over onto the other side of the parchment.

"All of this said, I do request this of you, as I know exactly who you are in your time: be gentle with her, to the best of your ability. She will take adjusting to, and she is aware that we do not take to sudden demands, such as a young woman suddenly dropping into our rooms and requiring to stay near us for the next seven or so years…"

SEVEN years? Severus huffed as he read, though it didn't seem all that ludicrous of a demand. If they were talking about the Dark Lord, then they needed all the time they could find.

"...but you need to do your best. Hermione is an excellent resource to you. She has proven to me to be valid and often pleasant company in the right circumstances, and I give you good faith that she can be the same for you if you let her. There are several things you must keep in mind while conversing or living with her. The first is that due to the fact that she is brilliant, you do not have to explain much to her, however you will need to shut her up from time to time. Try your best to be gentle with her in those moments, she wishes to do good by you."

Then she may as well just do good so I don't have to criticize her harshly, Snape raised an eyebrow slightly before continuing.

"Second, she has seen a war. The war that she fought in was worse than the first, and Voldemort sought after her and the rest of the trio specifically. She's a muggleborn…"

Snape felt his mouth go dry. How perfect. The version of him that wrote that had befriended a muggleborn… perhaps his situation was less of a pornographic nature and more like those sappy muggle romance novels found in drug stores, then? A poor, helpless romantic man torn between the memory of the muggleborn he loved and the muggleborn who stands anew before him… He nearly gagged, but continued reading anyways.

"And she was hunted for it. She witnessed many deaths, including ours. It harmed her, as wars tend to do to people. Do not press her for information about her experiences, have faith that she will tell you when necessary. Third, she will need to use the brewing area in the study for her own work. She will keep the majority of her work in her room, she has assured me, but she needs a brewing station. She is excellent at potion making and will take proper care of your instruments. Fourth, she knows about our history in general, and with that she knows about Lily. It became public knowledge after the war following our death. She will not bring it up, she has yet to even mention it to me as it is, so you may trust her to keep your secret and not be obnoxious. Fifth is most important…"

Snape squinted at the text before his eyes widened slightly at the words he read.

"...she lost someone during her war much like we lost Lily during ours. It is this that drives her. She and you are exactly the same in that regard: you fight in honor of those that you lost. However, she has the opportunity, now, to save them from death. Do not get in her way. Under NO circumstances are you to mention that I told you this fifth fact- it is to be kept under proper secrecy unless she relates to you the circumstances surrounding this event. She suffers greatly, exactly as you do. Do not underestimate my claims, and do not ignore them. It is paramount that she is able to trust you during her time. She sees you as a figure to look up to, someone to impress and please. Do not disappoint her more than I already have."

Snape looked up at the Granger girl, whose hands were still above her head, and she watched as he looked over her. She was more than met the eye. Now that he looked at her, he could see the fading signs of dark circles and bags under her eyes, the slight translucency to her skin.

Nightmares. She likely had Dreamless Sleeps and Calming Draughts to help her when she woke from them, he figured. Another reason for her to have personal access to his study's brewing station, she'll need to brew her own potions. He already decided not to get in her way… as long as she didn't get in his.

"There is one last thing you need to know before you start your journey with this young woman. Though she is strong, independent and headstrong, she longs to help more than anything else. She's going to want to help you, in particular. Dumbledore will use you as a spy for the Order once more, and she knows this. In my time, I was in charge of taking care of myself. The Dark Lord grew more violent as Harry Potter grew stronger- there is great pain and stress to be experienced. I tended to myself in those final years, but you do not have to suffer a similar fate.

"Hermione will be there for you, every step of the way. She understands nuances to your situation, unlike others who will claim they do. Please, let her help. Let her be close to you. Allow her freedom to you, when you feel comfortable enough to do so. I guarantee you won't regret it.

"You understand the rules surrounding portraits and their relations to real people. I knew Hermione in my life before being a piece of a painted canvas, and my view of her was not high. However, since beginning to watch her and know her better, my opinion of her has vastly changed. We were not close friends, or even very cordial in life, but in death, I became closer to her than practically anyone else. I do not know what her views of me are, save for her unyielding respect, which, I regret to say, I am humbled by.

"I have full faith that were I alive and knew her as I do now, she would mean more to me than a new and truly good friend or colleague. You, however, are still alive. If you allow it, you will see what I mean.

"Take good care of Hermione, and let her do the same for you.

"As always,

"Headmaster Severus Snape"

Snape hadn't let his confused and practically raging emotions show on his face to the girl. Instead he decided to quiz her, which she passed, naturally. She seemed smarter than other Gryffindors, and she did seem to at least have a healthy amount of respect and fear for himself, which he was grateful for. However, that didn't stop him from remembering the words in the letter. He knew what they meant.

His portrait had liked her. He'd had hope that his self from the past would grow close to Hermione just as he had, and perhaps he hoped there could be more between them

Well, not perhaps. It was clear the old fool that his future self would become had wanted him to fall for her. And it made him more raging mad than even the girl's intrusion did. What a sick joke, to be thrown a young woman and told to be kind to her, to not judge her, to basically treat her like royalty with no real grounds for such treatment save a pretty face and a well-worded letter, and then told that if he did so he would like her- possibly even love her.

He had not let his rage completely control him, though he did let his strict side of his persona show to the girl, to which she readily responded in the exact way he expected her to. Scared, with a hint of indignancy. He had gone into his room change into real clothes, which he had been missing since the moment he'd lain eyes on the girl that had magicked herself into his sitting room, after ordering her to remain on the couch, out of reach of her wand. He would have no tricks played on him.

He had shut the door to his room, then immediately slumped against the wall beside it so the girl wouldn't hear his weariness in the creak of the oak that separated them. He could not be wrestled into a conclusion that a girl he had just met mere moments before could be, dare he say it, a friend- not even if his future self was certain she would be such. He had to pull himself away from the wall to dress, making sure to dry his hair with a quick drying charm before he put on his new robes. No matter how pretty the face or convincing the letter, he would not allow himself to succumb to anything less than his own judgement.

And she was going to have to settle.

After forcing her to take him to yet another grueling meeting with those bastard twinkling eyes, he had heard enough. Not only was he going to deal with the girl, but he had to deal with her living in his rooms, and by the nature of the conversation between little chit and the Headmaster, that decision had not been agreed to by his past self, either. And then he was fuming again, the spark of rage reignited by the potency of conspiracy. He waited to ambush the girl as she came into his quarters, where her new room had magically come into place by order of the Headmaster, and snatched her just as she shut the door.

The threat had been easily made, and skillfully delivered, and it give him exactly what he wanted: leverage. He saw the surprise in Miss Granger's eyes as he slammed her against the wall, the ignition of her mind as she processed everything that he was saying, and the confusion tinted with doubtful fear when he mentioned them possibly having some sort of established relationship- he had caught her severely off her guard with that one.

It was by her reaction that he came to the conclusion that he had not turned sappy in his old age and lusted after one younger than himself, by the look in her eyes she wasn't even sure there was any kind of establishment of any kind of relationship between her and his future self. He understood the nature of their relationship had been, eventually, professional. Any sense of friendship, felt either by himself or by them both, was not told to the other, at least. Perhaps he wouldn't have to worry terribly much about establishing any type of set of boundaries with the chit- perhaps they were already in place.

Unless you grow sappy in your old age, a voice nagged at him from the back of his head, Unless you grow weak.

He had stormed into his bedroom after dropping the girl back down to the ground roughly, leaving her for the night. He locked and warded his door, for extra protection in case she decided to ambush him in the night, in case she was a threat after all, but listened to her move about as he prepared for bed. He heard her unpack her belongings, floating them into place when necessary (from her bag which he assumed had been charmed by an undetectable extension charm- ingenious, he must admit) as he began the extensive project of unbuttoning his robes to undress. He put on his nightshirt and pants, which he normally would never wear, as he preferred to sleep in only boxers, but decided to add the extra clothing in case the girl found herself in a situation which required his action or assistance, and slipped into the covers of his bed. By that point, she had moved into the bathroom and prepared herself for bed. He pulled open a book, The History of Dark Magic and Lasting Effects on the Body, as he heard her vigorously brush her teeth and wash her face. He finally saw the lights go out from under his door, and heard the door to the girl's room shut as she headed to sleep. He let out a breath at the sound- one that, hopefully, promised him peaceful night ahead.

He read through his book for several chapters, giving him an hours worth of reading time, before his thoughts overwhelmed his mind and blocking out the text on the pages. He pulled out the letter that he had received from his past self and read over it again… and again… and again. He died the Headmaster of Hogwarts, but under what conditions? He becomes a spy and suffers for it, but for what recognition? He died on May second by the Dark Lord's command of his snake, but where did he ever get a snake? And what made the Dark Lord kill him again? Was he found to be a spy? Did he out himself? Was he betrayed? Was… was it part of the plan? He shivered at the thought- it wouldn't be unlike Dumbledore to come up with a plan that required Severus to give his life, just another pawn in Dumbledore's real-time game of wizard's chess.

And the girl… she was a case altogether. She had chosen to come back in time to stop the Dark Lord in an attempt to save the lives of those who died for their cause. And yet, for whatever reason, she wasn't telling him the whole story. It didn't make sense to Severus to have someone, no matter how knowledgeable, go back in time to possibly damage a timeline of events that already insured the Dark Lord's ultimate demise. If she damaged the timeline, as it appeared she would judging by the conversation they'd had in Dumbledore's office, she therefore damaged the odds of the Dark Lord's downfall. Why would anyone allow that? Why would anyone ask for more?

Then he remembered something that Miss Granger had said in the meeting with the Headmaster: that he, Severus Snape, had been the one to discover the time traveling potions and worked on them with McGonagall, even past his own demise. He knew exactly what would drive him to experiment with such a thing. Lily. He had wanted to go back in time to save Lily. But alas, he was dead before he ever got the chance.

So what made him want to give that chance to somebody else?

She lost someone during her war much like we lost Lily during ours.

It is this that drives her.

So that was it… he wanted to give the chance to save the life of the one she loved, whoever that was. He wanted to give her the opportunity he never got. He had seen her suffering, judging by the way she was described in the letter, and he had known. He had recognized her pain.

The thing was, despite his seeing her dark circles and pale skin for himself, he saw no signs of the suffering that she had apparently went through. Perhaps she was masking it, or perhaps she didn't feel it anymore- she had moved on.

That must be nice, he thought.

He set the letter down, hoping to gain some peace of mind through sleep as he switched off his bedside light and lay down on his back, staring at the ceiling. However, just as the rest of the night had not favored him, sleep seemed to be equal upon that field.

It was nearing one hour after he had turned off his light when he decided to retrieve a Dreamless Sleep potion from the cabinet in the bathroom. He had a small cupboard next to the door that he stored almost all of his potions in, save for stashes of pain relievers, blood replenishers and Dittany that he had hidden amongst his rooms in case of an emergency. He peeled himself out of his warm sheets, wand in hand, and treadded over to the door, unwarding it with a quick flick of his wrist. He quietly tiptoed into the hallway, in hopes that the girl would not wake or hear him. The floorboards beneath his feet were cold to the touch, and the chilly night air of the dungeons gave him goosebumps, despite his, now years, worth of acclimation to the cold and sometimes damp atmosphere. He neared the bathroom door and slowly pushed the door open, careful to gauge the creaking of the hinges to make the process as silent as possible. He lit his wand and squatted next to the small potions cupboard and retrieved a Dreamless, standing to begin his trek back into his room.

It was then that Severus picked up on a sound that echoed through the dungeon walls, and he pricked his ears to be sure he had heard right. Sure enough, as he leaned forward against the bathroom wall, the one that separated Miss Granger's new room from the very room he stood in, he heard the definite sound of sobbing coming from the other side. He didn't feel surprised or guilty or sad or remorseful at the sound- not even angry. He was too neutral towards the girl as it was. And besides, her bedtime qualms were not his to worry about, her business was her own- and not only did that not require him to take action, he didn't want to, either.

Just as carefully as he had entered, he removed himself from the bathroom, nox-ing his wand as he did, and left the door cracked, returning to his own room, grumbling as he did so. Why should the chit sob as much as she was? What gave her the right? She voluntarily chose to come here, but he was the one stuck with a constant intruder in his chambers, helpless to remove her as it seemed. She already knew her new roommate- she had known him in her past life. But him? He was not so fortunate. He knew nothing about the girl save for that she was yet another hateful Gryffindor who apparently his old self grew attached to in some way, but only after his death. She had not been good enough for him to like in life. She shouldn't be the one sobbing into her pillow in the night, no matter how many hardships she'd seen. He was the one who had suffered and would continue to suffer- he should be the one to…

He stopped in his tracks, his hand on the hall-side doorknob to his room, when he heard the girl gasp from the other side of her door, followed by the immediate and quick rustling of sheets. He waited, readying his wand in case the girl tried any tricks, and watched the door. He heard something move across wood, likely her bedside table, followed by silence. She had sat straight up in bed, Severus wagered. Perhaps she had heard him? Perhaps she was the melodramatic type that sat up in bed as they sobbed, to better make a show of themself to the empty room that surrounded them. But, his letter had said she had nightmares, and he had seen the obvious effects of sleep deprivation on her face earlier. Perhaps, then, she had been crying in her sleep? That could be a likely answer. Or, and this was just as likely, she was beginning to dislike her choice in a roommate after his brisk treatment of her before he had retired. He was not exactly hospitable, nor kind (though he did view his treatment of a sudden intruder in his rooms at an ungodly hour to be that of the somewhat forgiving variety), and she had likely forgotten during her time with his betamed portraiture. He had clearly grown a bit soft in his old age, or at least during his time in a frame, and perhaps she had replaced his true self with that of his new in her mind, causing her to make choices that otherwise would not be suitable for herself.

He grumbled to himself again, nothing intelligible but rather a discrete huff of indignation. He turned the knob and entered his room again, still attempting to be silent, but not quite as much as before. He locked his door and reset his wards, returning to his bed and unstoppering the phial in the process. He slipped between the sheets, downing the potion in one gulp and made himself comfortable. He could see for himself what the case was in the morning, no matter the cause or outcome.

He began to drift into the sweet comforts of a dreamless sleep as his thoughts drifted off. The sleepier part of him, the part that was growing, openly admitted to himself that he hoped the girl could grow to not be so repulsed of his company. The other part, the part more prominent in his wake self, and the part that was dimming to the lull of sleep, told him that the girl's issues were not his problem.

He wouldn't be awake to hear the sound of a new sobbing that began in the girl's room, the space between the heaves letting out mournful calls of his name, one which had belonged to a dead man not minutes before.

~SSHG~SSHG~SSHG~SSHG~

A/N: Hey y'all! Hope you guys enjoyed this little glimpse into Severus's mind. I was little nervous about this one, mostly due to the content of the letter, but here it is. I'm out of finals week, so regular updates are back on track! That said, I'll be out of town on vacation for the next week or so, and while I do plan on updating again within the next week, things may get hectic.

Thank you all so much for the lovely reviews as well as all the faves and follows! I read all the reviews and they truly make my day! With that, don't hesitate to leave some more and tell me your feedback- I love hearing what you all think!

Enjoy your day, no matter the weather, stay hydrated, and good reading!

-Cherry