A/N: I come bearing good news, and bad news. The good news is my other major fanfiction project, Isis, is done for now. The bad news is, I have another fanfic I want to start publishing in March (as it involves Hunger Games). So I have more time to dedicate to this…for a while. It'll stay my main project until it's finished, though.
With that said, I'm so sorry for the long wait and I hope it won't take me that long to churn out a chapter again.
Also, please note once again that I do not own 'the Lady of Shalott', as it was written by Tennsyon. Nevertheless, it's used liberally in this chapter. 'Lancelot and Elaine' is also by Tennyson. I tried to sum it up in here, but I read the poem about five days ago and I might have gotten some details wrong. Sorry if I did!
Enjoy.
"I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity." – Edgar Allen Poe
Ginny held onto the handle of the suitcase a little tighter. "Are you sure about this, Harry?" she asked as she set the suitcase down in front of Ron's door, the edges of it making a faint 'clink' sound on the hardwood floor.
"Yeah," said Harry, swinging another bag off of his shoulder, "I feel safest here."
"But at Sirius's old place you could hide better-"
"I'm not just gonna keep running away, Ginny," he said, and then smiled weakly. "Besides, now we can spend more time together."
She bit the inside of her bottom lip for a moment. How could she possibly tell him that the safest place for him was far away from her? That she may have been responsible for the death of the hiker…for the threat on his life? How could she explain that her boyfriend needed to be far, far away from her?
Instead, she smiled. "That is good."
Harry nodded, and reached up to push his glasses and little further up the bridge of his nose. He leaned against the doorframe a little, slipping his hands in his pockets. No matter how much he stared at her, she couldn't look him in the eye. Instead, she stared at a little freckle he had right between his eyebrows.
"Hey, Gin…" he said slowly, drawing each syllable out as he considered his words. Her eyes looked into his for only a second, then back to the freckle. "I know you've been going through something lately…and…well, you know you can talk to me about it. Whatever it is."
I can't, Harry. I wish I could. She forced a smile again. "I know. I'm fine now, promise. I was just…upset. You know how my family has been since – since."
Harry nodded, but doubt remained on his face. "I know. Things'll get better, Ginny. You just need to give it time."
Ginny nodded. "I know. But why are we talking about me? You're the one that just-"
Harry waved his hand dismissively. "I'll be fine. I'm sure it's just some leftover Death Eater or other that doesn't have the power to actually try anything."
"He killed someone, Harry."
Harry frowned, standing straight again. He couldn't look at Ginny now, and instead focused on the grains in the wood of the floor beneath his feet. "I know. And I feel…terrible. I'm angry someone got caught in the middle, that people are dying for me all over again." His voice built with anger and frustration with each word. "It's not fair to anyone, especially not to that muggle hiker. But…I honestly believe we're safe. The Ministry is setting up a barrier, and we all have first hand experience. I defeated Voldemort, Gin, with everyone's help. I don't think any Death Eater is foolish enough to believe he can take us on when his master couldn't."
Ginny shrugged and waited for Tom to say something. There was only blissful silence. There had been for hours now.
"I guess you're right. I just don't think we should be too egotistical about it. That's when we'll be the most vulnerable."
Harry nodded, agreeing. "I don't mean to be egotistical."
"I know."
This time the silence was awkward.
"Well, I'm tired," said Ginny, a yawn fighting its way through a second later to show it was true. "I'm going to bed."
"Goodnight, Ginny," said Harry, kissing her on the cheek. She hugged him quickly.
"Goodnight," she said, and headed to her room, a little disappointed that he hadn't even tried to give her a proper kiss this time.
After washing her face and brushing her teeth and changing into a black nightgown, she went back to her room and closed and locked the door.
"On either side the river lie, long fields of barley and of rye… that clothe the world and meet the sky," she said as she folded her robes and put them in her laundry basket, her lips moving almost of their of volition. "And thro' the field the road runs by, to many-tower'd Camelot. And up and down the people go, gazing where the lilies blow, round an island there bel-"
Ginny stopped when she realized what she was saying. "…Was that you, Tom? Or was it me?"
No answer. Of course, he was never keen to answer when she actually wanted him. It was only when she didn't want him -
Are you saying that there are times when you want me, dear Ginny?
"No," she spat, pushing Shikoba aside so she could crawl into bed. "I never want you here. I wish you would just fully die and leave me in peace."
Then why do you speak to me?
"Good question," she breathed. She turned out the light and pulled the cover up to her chin.
"Willows whiten aspens quiver little breezes dusk and shiver…Willows whiten aspens quiver little breezes dusk and shiver…Willows whiten aspens quiver little breezes dusk and shiver…" she mumbled as her eyes closed. She sighed, then bit her lips closed so that they would not move again.
She rolled to her side and felt Shikoba settle in beside her, then tried to clear her mind. But the evening had been too horrific and she continued to have flashes before her eyes of the hiker's bloated body bobbing in the water. With a sigh, her eyes snapped open and she reached onto her bedside table. She used her wand to light the candles, and then lay in bed perfectly still and stared at the flickering flames.
"Tom…" she began, and then realized what she'd said. "Riddle, I mean."
Yes, Persephone?
She growled in the back of her throat at the nickname, but said nothing about it. She wanted an honest answer and being angry would just encourage him further.
"Did you intend to make me a horcrux?"
She watched as the tiny flame of the candle closest to her flickered with every breath she exhaled, and waited for an answer. She counted each breath and as she inhaled her fourteenth one, she realized he had no intention of answering.
"Look, can you just-"
It was a happy accident.
She wasn't very happy about it. But at least he'd responded, and it was good to know that Voldemort hadn't intentionally latched a piece of his soul onto her. Especially with everything she'd read in those notes…
Such as…?
Ginny wasn't going to answer that. Instead, she blew out the candles one by one and rested her head on her pillow. But her eyes remained wide open, sleep evading her for the next ten minutes. She felt as though she could run around her house twenty or thirty times and not be tired. But she so desperately needed the break from reality that sleep gave her. She needed to escape into dreams for a few hours. But her eyes remained open. There was nothing she could do to make herself sleep. She could just lie there and see the corpse in her eyes over and over and over and over again.
There she weaves by night and day, a magic web with colors gay, came Tom's voice in her head, soft and lacking it's usual sinister and sarcastic note. She has heard a whisper say, a curse is on her if she stay to look out to Camelot. She knows not what the curse may be, and so she weave steadily. Little other care hath she, the Lady of Shalott.
It was strange, but his voice was almost welcome at this moment, coaxing her to sleep. She would probably regret giving into it in the morning. But for now…it almost felt like a lullaby. And as he spoke gently, her eyes fluttered and slowly closed, and her breathing steadied, and instead of seeing death in her mind's eye she saw golden fields and knights walking down a road and women in red cloaks carrying wildflowers.
But in her web she still delights to weave the mirrors magic sights, for often through the silent nights a funereal with plumes and with lights and music went to Camelot. Or when the moon was overhead came two young lovers lately wed…'I'm half sick of shadows', said the Lady of Shalott.
Something sounded like knocking, or clinking. What was the sound?
Ginny's eyes opened a sliver, and she saw that her room was still dark. It felt late and quiet, the sort of stillness in the world that only came at three or four in the morning. The strange clicking-knocking sound was coming from behind her – where her wand sat on the bedside table. She moved her hand slowly away from the side of Shikoba – who still slept peacefully – and tried to reach behind her for her wand. But as she touched the wood of the table, she felt vibrations coming from it.
With a gasp, she sat up and turned towards her table. The candles in their glass containers were shaking on the table, as was her wand beside them. As she glanced around the room, she realized that other things in her room were shaking – her hairbrush and lip gloss and a snitch Fred had given her years ago. Everything seemed to be shaking, save for the large pieces of furniture – though she could swear she saw her reflection in the mirror blur.
"Are you doing this?" she gasped in fear. She went to reach for her wand, but suddenly found herself flung to the floor. After a gasp of pain, she forced herself to her feet. She looked about herself wildly, trying to find some way of stopping the things shaking, and finally when her bed began to rock she headed for her door, deciding to get help. But the door wouldn't open no matter how she pulled. She banged on it and tried to scream, but no sound would come out of her throat.
Ginny span around and faced the mirror, which was now also visibly shaking. Her heart raced and her head was clouded in terror. Was Tom doing this? Did he have this much power? If he had this much power, then,
"Did you kill the hiker, Tom?"
It almost felt like the room itself was beginning to shake.
"Did you kill the hiker, Tom?"
The glass in her window began to rattle.
"Did you kill the hiker, Tom?"
In the mirror appeared blood red words.
She has a lovely face; God in His mercy lend her grace, the Lady of Shalott...
"TOM!" Ginny shrieked, gripping the edge of her vanity. "Answer me! DID YOU KILL HIM?"
The world began to tilt to the side. The floor below her became uneven, slowly at first, but then quicker. She tried to grab onto the vanity table to stop from losing her balance, but her grip slipped and she fell to the ground. Quickly, she slid across the floor towards her bedside table. She hit it with a 'smash' and slammed her elbow into the already-shaking wood. She hissed in pain, then rolled onto her knees and used her hands to slowly drag herself forward and upward.
Panic filled her chest as she realized just how far the floor had tilted. It was steep and still moving, the floor behind her sinking and the floor ahead of her rising. She could feel a scream building her chest but she had to keep control of her breathing. Climbing back to the other side of the room was a struggle.
It took a while to get back to her vanity, but she managed it without hurting herself. She dodged the chair as it slid down towards the bedside table and used the leg of her vanity to pull herself up. She stood with her feet shoulders' width apart so she could balance, and looked in the mirror. With a deep breath, Ginny moved her arm back, and then swung it forward, pushing her fist through the glass.
Everything stopped shaking at once, and the floor righted itself as though it had never been anything but straight across.
Ginny saw the shards of mirror sticking out of her hand and the blood flowing freely, but the pain didn't register for another full ten seconds. Then she felt as though she would die.
"Harry, help me!" she cried, falling to her knees, hitting her head on the chair on the way down. With her uninjured hand she touched her forehead, and was relieved to not feel blood there. But now her head and knees throbbed with hot pain, which was nothing compared to the pain in her left hand. There was blood everywhere. Her arm was bathed in her own blood.
The door swung open.
"Ginny?" asked the panicked voice of George, not Harry. But George picked her up and carried her out of the room anyway, calling for their father. "Ginny, what happened?" he asked when he heard movement downstairs.
"The mirror cracked from side to side," responded Ginny. "The curse has come upon me."
She laid in her bed the next morning, her hand healed and her mind reeling. She hadn't known what to say to her family. She tried to explain that she'd had a nightmare, that she'd punched the mirror because she'd been a shadow in it. But from their sideways glances she could tell they didn't believe her. Instead, she fell to mumbling 'the curse has come upon me' over and over again under her breath. Finally, when she was healed and her father grew tired of asking what had happened, she was sent to bed. She stayed there with Shikoba at her side for hours, not quite awake and not quite asleep.
At first, Ginny had tried to talk to Tom, to ask if he'd done that to her, if he even had the power…and then, to ask why. But he didn't respond to her weak inquiries.
Mostly, she was just tired. Tired from a lack of sleep, tired from too much stress, tired of being mad, tired of being sane, tired of being apart from Harry, tired of her family having fallen apart, tired of missing Fred, tired of mourning so many people's deaths, tired of the war weighing down on her, tired of having her life ruled by someone else, tired of hearing Tom's voice in her head, tired of calling him Tom. Exhaustion crept into her every bone and muscle and bloodstream, but she couldn't sleep. She was afraid to. Afraid if she dreamed, she might see him there.
Eventually the grumbling in her stomach called her out of bed. She slipped on a robe – a blue 'bath' robe Hermione had given her – and headed downstairs, wincing at the cold floor against her bare feet. She smiled weakly when Harry greeted her, and headed to the kitchen to make herself some breakfast. The sun was unusually bright for an early morning, but the sunshine felt nice on her face, even if through the glass. She wondered how it would feel directly on her skin, but was too afraid to go outside.
Tom had said 'If you leave the safety of your home, you could easily befall the same fate' as the Lady of Shalott. She didn't want to risk setting foot outside.
She began to make herself some breakfast, heating up water for tea. But she noticed dishes already being washed. Odd, since her brothers tended to sleep in longer than she did.
Harry walked into the kitchen behind her as she stared at egg shells sitting on the counter. Had they already had breakfast without her? But the sun had only just risen a couple hours ago.
"Afternoon, Ginny," said Harry as her wrapped an arm around her. "Did you have a good nap?"
Ginny blinked and turned her head towards him slowly. "Nap? You mean after…after I hurt my hand last night?"
"No," said Harry, his eyebrows raising slightly. "I mean after you had breakfast with us this morning. You said you were tired and went back to bed."
Ginny frowned, and felt her eyebrow twitch. "This morning? But…it is morning. I just got up."
Now it was Harry's turn to frown. His eyes narrowed behind his glasses as he stared deep into her eyes, almost as though he saw something deep inside them he didn't like. "No, Ginny. You got up this morning and had breakfast with us. You even joked with Ron about Percy's hair."
Ginny swallowed hard. How could this be possible? She'd been in bed all night. A quick glance at the clock told her it was, however, afternoon. Late afternoon.
"…I came down for breakfast?"
"Yeah," said Harry, a little weakly. "You seemed nor-fine. You seemed fine, just tired."
"But I…" she let the sentence drift off as she turned away and tried to remember what it was Harry was talking about. But she was certain she had just been in bed all morning.
Did you do this, Tom? She wondered, but there was no reply. She hadn't heard him speak since the night before.
Ginny felt Harry's hand on her shoulder, gently turning her around. "Gin, are you okay?"
She smiled weakly though she shook her head. "Yes. I'm fine. Just tired. I must have dreamed staying in bed this morning, I just don't remember…"
"Oh," said Harry, obviously unconvinced. But he took a seat at the dining table as Ginny gathered together some leftover breakfast to eat. When she sat across from him with a plate of fried tomatoes, black pudding and baked beans and a mug of tea gone cold, he shifted forward to lean on the table with his elbows. "Um, Ginny?"
"Yes?" she asked, hoping he didn't see the fork shaking in her hand as she lifted it to take a bite of tomato.
"D'you…maybe want to talk about what happened last night?"
She lowered the fork with the bit of red fruit still on it back down to her plate. "I had a nightmare, Harry. It happens."
Harry stood to get a glass of pumpkin juice, just to have something to do. "I know you said that, but most people's nightmares don't involve punching a mirror."
"Well mine did," snapped Ginny, who then sighed. This wasn't what she wanted to happen. She didn't want to fight about it. She just wanted to pretend like it never happened. "I'm sorry, Harry. I just want to forget about it."
"Okay," said Harry, though that was the last thing he wanted to do. He wanted to ask her about the depression, her talking to herself, why she talked about killing herself and obsessed over a Muggle poem. But if he pursued the topic, she would just get upset. And despite the seemingly normal morning – which seemed now a fluke – they had to carry on with their plan.
So he drank juice across from his girlfriend quietly, and she ate her lunch…and then went back upstairs without another word.
Ginny closed the door behind her and rested her head against the back of the door. She wanted to ask Tom, wanted to demand he tell her what was going on. But what was the use? He finally seemed to decide to leave her alone – right as she wanted him to talk to her.
She waited a moment after thinking that, knowing that normally he'd take the chance to mock her for thinking that she wanted him in any way. But no, there was still nothing but silence.
Sighing, she changed into a pale, thin white nightgown and then walked to a corner of her room, leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor. Shikoba made a long, mournful cry from his place on the bed, but didn't move to comfort her.
Ginny's brain was a mess. She couldn't think straight. All she knew was she wanted it to stop. She wanted more than anything for things to be normal.
But she also couldn't stop thinking about that blasted poem.
"She has heard a whisper say, a curse is on her if she stay to look down to Camelot," she whispered to herself, wrapping her arms around her legs. "She knows not what the curse may be and so she weave steadily, little other care hath she, the Lady of Shalott…"
Slowly, she felt her body begin rocking back and forth. "She left the web, she left the loom, she made three paces through the room. She saw the water lily bloom, she saw the helmet and the plume, she looked to Camelot…" she was just saying random lines, they didn't even go together. Her next words came out sharp as she fought back sobs. "Heard a carol, mournful, holy. Chanted loudly, chanted lowly. 'Til her blood was frozen slowly, and her eyes were darkened wholly…"
Ginny's eyes were shut tight, and she never heard the door to her room open. "For ere she reach'd upon the tide the first house by the water-side, singing in her song she died, the Lady of Shalott…"
"Ginny?" Harry whispered softly. Ginny looked up at him, her eyes red and tears falling down her cheeks, but she almost seemed to be looking through him. "Ginny, are you okay?"
"Who is this? And what is here?" she responded. "And in the lighted palace near died the sound of royal cheer; and they crossed themselves for fear…"
"All the knights of Camelot," responded Harry. He'd read the poem over and over and over again after they'd discovered the words to it in her room, he nearly had it all memorized. He walked forward and knelt in front of her, resting his hands on her shoulders. If this was the only way to reach her…so be it. "But Lancelot mused a little space, he said, 'She has a lovely face. God in His mercy lend her grace…'"
The Lady of Shalott, was all Ginny heard, Tom's voice filling her head and that awful wave of hatred crashing over her head again.
In that moment, her hands were around Harry's throat.
She pushed hard into him and they both fell, he backwards and her forward onto his chest. She knelt with one knee on either side of him while Harry just stared back at her, his eyes wide and his glasses askew. It wasn't until she began to push her thumbs into the hollow of his throat that he reacted, grabbing her wrists and trying to push her off of him, but she was stronger than she seemed. When he began to see black spots in his vision he grabbed her shoulders and turned his body, roughly knocking her to the floor.
Ginny shook her head, and then looked back at Harry with wide, surprised eyes. Harry was gasping for breath, but still attempted to speak.
"Ginny – why – you…." But she was on her feet and out the door before he took in another gulp of air.
She ran as swiftly as her feet would carry her. She wasn't sure where she was going, but she wasn't sure of most things these days. She wasn't sure when the sun had gone down, or when it had begun to rain, or what had made her try to kill Harry, or why she had never noticed a part of Tom Riddle in her before, or what was going to happen next, or of the exact moment her whole life had fallen apart. Everything was uncertainty. And all she wanted was to be far away from everything.
Ginny also wasn't sure when she'd learned the tune she was humming. But this was something she was getting used to.
"Sweet is true love…though given in vain, in vain," she sang between gasps for breath. "And…sweet is death who puts an end…to pain."
Do you know the story of Lancelot and Elaine?
"I know not…which is sweeter, no, not I," she sang instead of responding to the question.
Sir Lancelot was a Knight of the Round Table, for King Arthur. You know about King Arthur, don't you?
"Yes," she said, slowing down when the house had disappeared behind her. She noticed now that she had run towards the place the body of the hiker had been found. She also remembered that she was barefoot and in a thin nightgown, and the night was wet and quickly becoming very cold.
Once, Arthur found a crown with nine diamonds. When he became King, he decided that the way to find the best men in the land was by holding a jousting tournament every year, the prize for which was a diamond from the crown. Lancelot had won each diamond, and saved them to give to the Queen, who he loved in secret and who loved him in return. But for the last tournament, he decided to go in disguise, hoping that the men would fight him fairly instead of being intimidated by his name. So he told the King he was bothered by an old injury and couldn't ride, and then left Camelot and went to a nearby home to leave things that would give away who he was. In this home lived a man and his two sons, and his daughter, the lily maid Elaine. Lancelot did not give them his name, but left his shield in Elaine's care. In return, Elaine asked Lancelot – whom fell in love with – to ride with her favor, a bit of red cloth and pearls. Normally Lancelot would never ride with a token, but thinking it would serve his purpose in tricking others into thinking he was another man, he accepted. With one of Elaine's brothers at his side, he left to join the joust.
"Love, art thou sweet? Then bitter death must be," she breathed, as she began to shiver. She wasn't sure if it was from the cold or from her fear that she'd just tried to kill her boyfriend, or from her rage that the person who made her do it was telling her a story.
During the joust, Tom continued as though she hadn't spoken at all, Lancelot was injured. He'd defeated the last enemy right as his enemy's blade pierced his armor. So Elaine's brother took him to a former Knight to be healed. When Elaine heard of this, she begged her father to let her go aid Lancelot. He agreed, and she went to Lancelot's side. With her help, his health greatly improved, and he learned to love her company. When he was healed her offered her anything she wanted in return for her service to him, and she asked for his love. He told her that he had no desire to marry, especially one so much younger than he was. Instead, Lancelot offered to give her lands when she married, so that she and her husband would never want for anything. She refused and returned his shield, and watched as he rode away, going back to Camelot…without giving her so much as a farewell.
"Love, thou art bitter, sweet is…death to me," Ginny sang, following the water far away from her home. Tom was speaking his story slowly, as though savoring each word. By now she was almost further away than she'd ever walked from home. She wished she had brought her broom so she could fly away instead.
Elaine grew ill, and lay in her bed for days. She sang to herself a song of love and death.
So that was where this song was coming from. Still, Ginny couldn't help but continue singing the words. Thoughts of the future were trying to force their way into her mind, things like being sure she would now spend the rest of her life at St. Mungo's, or Azkaban. The song distracted her. "O Love…if death be….sweeter, let me die."
Before she died, she asked her father to do her a favor. She had a letter written for Lancelot, one that spoke of his cruelness to her, of leaving her without saying goodbye. 'I loved you, and my love had no return, and therefore my true love has been my death', it read. She asked that her father be certain it was in her hand after her death.
It was then that Ginny spotted a small row boat tied to a willow tree. Not knowing nor caring whose it was, she crawled inside it. She lay down across the bottom of it, which was filthy with dirt and river water and an empty bottle of beer. She took a moment to untie the rope, then let the water carry her away, singing, "Sweet love, that seems not made…to fade away…Sweet death, that seems to make us…lovely clay." She pushed her red hair back, out of her pale face and out of the tears and rainwater, and then wrapped her arms around herself for warmth. The temperature seemed to be dropping with every second, and she could see her breath clearly on the air.
When she died, they laid her on a boat, covered in flowers, and had their mute servant row her to Camelot where her letter would be delivered. She was as lovely in death as she was in life. And though Lancelot still could not love her, he felt her death sink him in regret, and though he had just given the diamonds to the Queen and she kissed him, he chose to leave Camelot.
Ginny licked her lips, which felt as dry as sandpaper. "I know not which is sweeter, no, not I," she sang, her voice shaking.
Do you know why I've told you this story?
She shook her head.
This story was told by Tennyson, who also used Elaine's story to write The Lady of Shalott.
Ginny closed her eyes, exhaustion seeping into her every muscle. Her body was shaking with cold and fear, and she felt sick with both, and barely repressed sobs shook her body. She'd tried to kill Harry.
Do you remember what I told you just before you saw the dead Muggle?
Again, Ginny shook her head, though the movement was more jerky than before.
Be careful of your movements from now on, my Lady of Shalott. If you leave the safety of your home, you could easily befall the same fate.
"The same fate?" she whispered, not because she wanted to be quiet, but because she couldn't seem to speak any louder. The sounds of the night could easily be heard over her, the sounds of the water moving and crickets humming and birds – even some divers- crying.
She has heard a whisper say: a curse is on her if she stay to look down to Camelot.
'I am half sick of shadows' said the Lady of Shalott. She left the web, she left the loom, she made three paces through the room. Out flew the web and floated wide, the mirror crack'd from side to side. 'The curse has come upon me' cried the Lady of Shalott. Heavily the low sky raining over towr'd Camelot; down she came and found a boat, beneath a willow left afloat. And at the closing of the day she loosed the chain, and down she lay; the broad stream bore her far away, the Lady of Shalott. Lying, robed in snowy white that loosely flew from left to right – thro' the noises of the night, she floated down to Camelot. And as the boat-head wound along, the willowy hills and fields among, they heard her singing her last song, the Lady of Shalott. Heard a carol, mournful, holy…chanted loudly, chanted lowly…til her blood was frozen slowly, and her eyes were darkened wholly…for ere she reach'd upon the tide the first house by the water-side, singing in her song she died, the Lady of Shalott.
"And here I am," Ginny murmured. She had heard his whisper, telling her not to interact with Harry, not to leave her home, but still she'd fought against him. Then her mirror cracked underneath her fist. And now here she was, dressed in white, lying in a row boat she'd found tied under a willow tree in the rain, singing a song of love and death. And as every moment passed by, she felt more tired and cold. All she wanted was to sleep. But her death song wasn't finished yet.
"I fain would follow love, if that could be; I needs must follow death, who calls for me; Call and I follow, I follow! Let…me…die."
And slowly, she fell away from the world.
My Lady of Shalott.
RubyMoon's Secret Place
RubyMoon: Well, there you go! Please let me know what you think, your reviews mean everything to me. And now I'm off to plot the end of this story since, you know, I should probably know whats going to happen next (I only have the next couple of chapters planned out…erm, oops?).