Rating: M

Warnings: Slash, swearing, infidelity, ignores epilogue, probably a bit OOC

Pairings: SS/HP and HP/GW

Genres: Romance, Drama, Angst

Summary: Harry's engaged to Ginny, but then along comes Severus Snape. SLASH, SS/HP, POST DH

A/N: SORRY! I know it's been quite a few months since I last updated but I've been super busy with work and life and some bad things happened, but I have more time on my hands now and seem to be back in a writing mood so hopefully updates will start being frequent again. Thank you all so much for waiting.

OK, so since it's been a while, here's a reminder of what's happened so far: Harry and Snape started being friends and meeting every Friday, when Ginny found out she was angry but has finally forgiven Snape for the things he's done (and even invited him to the wedding), Harry and Snape have been sleeping together and it's been going on for a couple of months now (slept together 3 times, Snape on the bottom), Teddy saw Snape at Harry's house, and in the last chapter Harry's assistant caught them making out in an alley on Harry's 23rd birthday. Hope that helps!

Chapter Sixteen: A Step Back

Harry jumped, startled, his hot coffee spilling down the front of his Auror robes, as a knock sounded on his office door. Heart beating thunderously in his chest, he cursed and threw his now empty cup away, pulling out his wand with a trembling hand and spelling away the burning liquid for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

"Who is it?" he called out, managing to keep the quiver from his voice – he couldn't believe he was this jumpy. Though, he reminded himself, he had every right to be.

"It's Sam," a gruff voice answered. "Can I come in?"

"Er…" Harry hurriedly put his wand away and sat down at his desk, grabbing hold of a few files - he was getting quite good at looking busy. "Yeah. Come in."

The door opened and a large wizard entered. He had wavy brown hair that fell to his shoulders, a bushy beard, and muscles that bulged underneath red robes. His bright eyes flickered around the room before landing on Harry. He smiled.

"I finished that job up in Huddersfield," he said. "Is it alright if I get off early? Only, it's my son's birthday, you see. He's five and he's invited half the town round for a party."

Harry blinked, let out a silent breath, and smiled at Samuel.

"Sure," he said kindly. "You should have said something sooner, you could have had the afternoon off."

Samuel shuddered. "Are you kiddin' me? My wife was taking them to Wee Wizard Warehouse this afternoon – two hours of hyperactive kids jumping into ball pools, climbing things, and throwing pizza around." He shuddered again, looking repulsed at the very thought, and Harry let out a chuckle.

He remembered when they'd taken Teddy there for his fourth birthday last year and it had been nothing but screaming children, flying objects, and sugary drinks. The headache had been worth it though to see Teddy and his friends enjoying themselves. Though he couldn't say he was looking forward to having a repeat performance with his own children one day.

He was going to have children. With Ginny. After they were married.

Harry's insides squirmed.

"OK, well, you can go," he said to Sam, forcing a smile. "Have a nice time. Wish him Happy Birthday from me."

"Aye, will do," he said, with a nod. He turned to leave and Harry's eyes followed him to the door.

"Hey, Sam," he said, sitting forward in his chair. "Is Jeremy out there?"

Samuel looked back. "Yeah," he replied. "He's sitting at his desk. You want me to get him –"

"NO!"

Samuel took a step back, alarmed. If Harry had been in any other mood than the one he was in, he would have laughed at the comical expression plastered across the stunned-looking Auror's face.

Yet again, Harry had to force a smile. He snickered humourlessly and shrugged his shoulders.

"No," he said again, calmly. "That's alright. Thank you. Enjoy the party."

Samuel frowned, his forehead wrinkling. He looked at the door, then glanced back at Harry, opening his mouth. Harry sighed inwardly.

"If you don't mind me asking…" Sam started slowly. "I mean…I'm not intruding or anything, but…is everything alright?"

Harry pretended to look surprised at the question. "Of course," he said.

"Really? 'Cause you're acting a lot stranger than usual."

Harry laughed and waved a dismissive hand, brushing away his colleague's concerns. "Really," he said. "I'm fine. Enjoy your evening." Get out, get out, get out.

Luckily, Sam knew a dismissal when he heard one. With one last nod, he exited the room, closing the door behind him.

Harry deflated and fell back in his chair.

He couldn't go on like this. He was completely and totally on edge. He had to see Jeremy at some point during the day, but right now avoiding him seemed like the best idea he'd ever had.

He needed to make sense of things but his mind just didn't want to cooperate. That didn't come as any surprise – he'd been putting things off for so long and now here he was, letting a whole bunch of situations get totally out of hand. Again.

Yet another person had been drawn into his web of lies.

Ginny was oblivious, Snape was angry, and Jeremy knew…and Harry was once again faced with a decision he just didn't want to make. He couldn't even begin to organize his thoughts. If someone had asked him to put down on paper what he was thinking, he would have stared at a blank page for hours on end.

He hadn't seen Snape since the events in Hogsmeade last night. He'd returned to the party and Snape hadn't followed. Luckily, Ginny had had too much to drink (thanks to rematch after rematch of drinking games with George) so she hadn't been in the mood to make love when they'd returned home. Harry didn't know how he would have coped if she'd been sober and up for it – his whole body ached with guilt, confusion, and worry.

Well, he thought as he let his head fall into his arms, at least he could do something about that last one. All he had to do was talk to Jeremy and see where things stood, but the thought of facing the man who knew about his dark treachery was painful.

Be a man, Harry! You've messed everything else up.

He groaned into his folded arms before lifting his heavy head. He poked a white panel with his wand, the magical intercom.

"Mr. Jenkson? Could you come in here please?" The dread could be heard in his voice and he hoped nobody was near Jeremy's desk.

"Right away, Sir," the reply came and seconds later the door opened.

Harry was glad to see he wasn't the only one suffering from nerves. Jeremy's fingers were fidgeting with the ends of his sleeves and the bright smile that usually lit his face was crooked.

Harry sat up in his chair and gestured for the other man to take a seat, which he did after closing the office door.

Harry took a deep, silent breath.

"Mr. Jenkson…Jeremy…" Hands folded on desk, fake smile in place – it was like second nature. "We're friends, right?"

Jeremy's eyes bulged and he nodded. "Sure."

Time for that awkward smile again, but this time with teeth. He nodded, as if satisfied with that answer.

"Great," he said. "And erm…how are things with you?"

"Yeah," said Jeremy, "Yeah, they're good."

Harry nodded. "Good. That's good. Can't have my assistant unhappy. A happy assistant means a happy…erm…everyone else..."

Jeremy's large, bright eyes grew wider.

"Mr. Potter…are you firing me?"

"What? No. No, of course not. Where would you get an idea like that?"

Jeremy dropped his gaze to the hands folded in his lap.

"Last night…" he muttered.

"Last night has nothing to do with work, Mr. Jenkson," Harry said seriously, and he dropped the false smile. He sighed. "Look…I know that…what you saw must be a large burden. I can understand that. And I know that you're a good person and you want to do the right thing. I'm not angry that you found out. I mean, it was an accident – anyone could have seen us. We were completely careless. And I'm sorry that you-"

"Sir," the other man interrupted, "can I just say something?"

Harry nodded.

"I'm not going to tell anyone about what happened."

"You're not?" Harry exhaled a painful breath.

"No. But I…I want you to know that…well, that I…I want you to know…"

"You can say it," Harry told him. "Please, don't worry about watching your words with me."

Jeremy gulped and he looked Harry straight in the eye.

"I want you to know that I think what you're doing is wrong."

The words hung in the air between them, the sound of them bouncing around the room, repeating again and again. It wasn't long before Jeremy lost his nerve, dropping his gaze back down into his lap.

And then, suddenly, it was like something had been unlocked. Harry's heart ached and he couldn't stop the words from falling from his mouth.

"I know," he said quietly. "Of course I know. I've tried ending things with Snape but I…I just can't. Every time I try…." He shook his head. He pushed his chair back and got to his feet, pacing up and down. "I don't know what to do. I don't know what's wrong with me. For fuck's sake, he's a guy and he used to be my teacher and he's Severus Snape and…and I'm getting married. Why is this happening?" He turned on his heel and looked desperately at his assistant, as if he held all the answers.

Jeremy looked a little startled at the sudden promotion to Harry Potter's confidant.

"I don't know…" he stammered.

"I'm a good person," Harry said, nodding, and sounding quite insane. "I don't do terrible things on purpose. I don't try to hurt others. You understand that, right? This is all just some crazy thing that's happened. I love Ginny."

"If you loved her, I don't think you'd be cheating on her," he muttered.

Harry glared.

"Sorry," Jeremy blushed.

Harry's face dropped and he fell back into his chair.

"Don't apologise," he said. "It's true. If I was devoted to her I wouldn't be doing…this." He snorted. "I wouldn't be doing Snape."

"Maybe…Sir, I know it's not my place to say but…maybe…well, have you tried ending things with Miss. Weasley instead?"

Harry stared at Jeremy.

"Ginny? Finish with Ginny?" The very idea sounded alien.

"You said yourself that you can't end things with Mr. Snape. Maybe there's a reason for that?"

Harry grew silent as he tossed the thought around in his head. Whilst it was glaringly obvious that something needed to be done, was breaking up with Ginny really the way to go? It had never occurred to him – at least, not seriously anyway – that he should stay with Snape and finish with Ginny – he'd always believed it should be the exact opposite. After all, the reason he couldn't end his affair with Snape was because of purely selfish reasons – he liked the excitement, the change of pace. He liked spending time with Snape. Could he really live a life with him?

But he was already shaking his head.

"I couldn't possibly…Ginny and I, we're…we're getting married. It would break her heart."

Jeremy shrugged, a frown on his face.

"She's going to get it broken anyway," he said quietly. "Do you really think that she's not going to suspect that something's going on? The longer you leave it, the more harm it's going to cause."

"If I leave her, her family will hate me," Harry insisted.

"How do you think they'll feel when they find out about the affair? They will find out, Mr. Potter. These things can't stay hidden forever."

And when the terrible truth did come tumbling out, Harry would be able to look back on this moment and curse his very existence. Jeremy was right – it needed to end. Ginny wasn't the only one who'd end up hurt.

"Do you love Mr. Snape?"

Harry looked up.

"No," he said automatically.

"So you're cheating on your fiancée because…?"

Now that was the question!

Harry shook his head, unable to think of an answer. He looked steadily at his assistant, the bright faced, ever eager Jeremy who, until now, had always seemed to worship him.

"You're the only person I've talked to about all of this," he told him quietly.

"I gathered," he replied.

Harry sighed deeply and looked about his office. The fake warm sun was shining through the fake glass window, and his desk clock was ticking away the seconds. The files on his desk lay untouched, as they had done for most of the day - just the thought of opening them and sorting through everything was enough to give him a headache.

Well, he couldn't stay here. He couldn't concentrate, not now.

"You wanna go get some coffee?" he asked Jeremy, and without waiting for an answer he stood and headed for the door.

"What are you doing, Severus?"

Severus's whole body tensed at the sound of that voice and dread shivered down his spine. He allowed himself just a few seconds of weakness in which he stood ridged, eyes closed, before forcing himself to move.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he said curtly, lifting a glass bottle. "I'm pouring myself another drink. Want some?" He held the glass out towards the portrait over the fire and Dumbledore frowned.

"You know that's not what I meant," he said softy.

A sneer curled Severus's lips. "Yes, of course. Even when dead, the old man can't resist sticking his nose where it doesn't belong." He downed a mouthful of the amber liquid and grimaced. "Don't you ever tire of interfering? One would think you'd grow out of it, especially now you don't have a heartbeat or a body or even a life."

His words appeared to have no impact, however, as Dumbledore pressed on - it was just like Albus to not let a little thing like death keep him from expressing his concerns.

"Harry's been spending an awful lot of time here lately," he said quietly. "And you came home in such a dreadful mood last night. I'm just worried about you, dear boy."

Severus sighed and brought a hand up to his temples, rubbing at them wearily. This, right here, was the downside to having one of the most powerful wizards of all time stuck to your living room wall.

He downed another mouthful of scotch and stared at the painting. The painting stared back.

Whilst Severus had never seen the inside of Azkaban - for which he was eternally grateful - he'd been imprisoned in a whole other way. Hogwarts had been both his paradise and prison cell, Dumbledore his friend and keeper. But that sentence had been fully served long ago. He was a free man now.

"Albus," he ground out, "I am a grown man. If I wish to spend my time with Harry Potter then that is what I shall do, whether you like it or not."

"I'm not trying to dictate to you, Severus. I just don't want to see you hurt. Affairs don't lead to happy endings."

Severus took another swig from his glass, staring straight ahead at the old fireplace. He wasn't going to let Albus get to him. He wasn't going to listen to what Albus had to say. The old man knew nothing! This didn't concern him, a mere canvas painting hanging on a wall. This was Severus's time to live.

"I am so very disappointed in Harry."

Severus closed his eyes. He didn't want to listen to this but there was no way he was getting up and leaving the room. This was his house now.

"He should have known better," the old man went on. "He shouldn't be doing this to you…and to young Miss. Weasley."

"I am not going to end up old and alone like you, Albus," he said in a low growl. His head snapped up and his eyes sought out Dumbledore's. He didn't care about the pain he found in them, didn't care that the other occupants of the portrait had woken up.

"Not once in your life did you allow yourself the pleasure and comfort of a companion," he said harshly. "Not once did you put yourself before others. The students and that bloody school, that's all you ever cared about. Well, not me, Albus. I'm selfish. I don't care about anyone else's needs but my own."

Harry watched as the small amount of sugar he'd just emptied into his cappuccino slowly sank beneath the surface, swallowed up by froth and chocolate dust. He reached out and emptied another packet into his cup, watching with a sort of dull fascination as that, too, sank into the depths of his drink. The two marks that the lumps of sugar had left on the surface looked like eyes and he smiled as he reached for another packet, this time emptying it in the shape of a mouth.

"Wow…" Jeremy climbed up onto the stool next to Harry and looked around the busy room. "I've never been in a muggle coffee place before. Is this what they all look like? Wow…"

Harry snickered and glanced about the room. Whilst Starbucks did boast an open and light environment, it actually looked pretty similar to the various pubs and cafés scattered up and down wizarding Britain, the kind he knew his assistant visited after work. He supposed it was the modern furniture that had Jeremy so in awe, but Harry personally preferred the old worn and torn armchairs and settees of places like The Three Broomsticks and The Leaky Cauldron.

The shop was quite full, mainly with students and businessmen, and every single one of them seemed to have a newspaper or laptop or book opened up in front of them. The green-aproned employees were busy dashing from one table to the next, wiping the surfaces down to make way for the queuing customers - more students with big bags and businessmen with briefcases.

Harry's roaming gaze returned to Jeremy, who was dressed in his long black robes. He'd toyed with the idea of asking his assistant to change into something more muggle-appropriate (Harry was Head Auror after all - he had to think about the Statute of Secrecy and all that other stuff) but really, this was London - it was very likely that no one would even notice what he was wearing, let alone care, and even if they did they'd think he was some fancy lawyer or politician or something.

Harry glanced down at his own attire - his worn jeans and baggy jumper. He may not have cared too much about what muggles thought of wizarding dress, but there was no way he'd ever walk through the busy streets of the city in eye-catching crimson robes.

Sighing, he reached for a spoon and stirred his cappuccino. As he lifted the mug to take a sip, he caught sight of Jeremy staring at him. He mentally braced himself and blew across the hot surface of his coffee.

"Mr. Potter? Can I ask you something?"

"There's no need to be so formal here," he said. "You can call me Harry."

Jeremy nodded. He lifted his own mug, took a small sip, and swallowed.

"Harry, sir. Can I ask you something?"

Harry bit back a smile. "Of course," he said. "Go right ahead."

Jeremy opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, then closed it once more. He seemed to hesitate for a few more moments as he looked across the table at Harry before deciding that a few swigs of his hot chocolate would cover for his silence.

"Please," said Harry, "don't hold back. You certainly didn't back in my office." He offered a friendly smile. "What's on your mind?"

Jeremy placed his mug back on the table.

"How…how long has it been going on? With you and Mr. Snape?"

Harry considered before lowering his eyes to his steaming mug. He'd been expecting that question all day and had been surprised when it hadn't come up during their exchange in his office before. He breathed in deeply, inhaling the smell of coffee, before letting it all out in a sigh. Now was the time to bring some honesty into his life and he found that he rather welcomed the prospect.

"Since the middle of May. Sort of." He looked up. "Remember that day when we caught Davidson and McCulloch?"

Jeremy nodded.

"Well, that's when we first kissed. Actually, he kissed me and I just freaked out. It wasn't until a few weeks later that things started…happening…between us."

"And you don't love him, right?"

"Right," Harry said with a nod.

"Because you love Miss. Weasley?"

"Exactly."

This time, Jeremy sighed. He took deep gulp from his drink before looking back at Harry, who suddenly felt like he was about to be put on trial.

"You already know what I think you should do, sir," Jeremy spoke quietly. "You need to end things with one of them. It's not nice."

"I know that," Harry groaned out, "but which one? Every time I try to do it with Snape I just lose my nerve, and I can't even begin to imagine calling time on my relationship with Ginny. I've been with her much longer, and we've shared so much together. I don't want to throw all that away like it was nothing."

"It won't be nothing, though," Jeremy said forcefully. "It's not like the experience of it all will vanish once you decide you don't want it anymore. You'll always remember it for what it was."

Harry snorted, staring down into his cappuccino. "And what is it, exactly? A romance that's destined to fail? A desperate attempt to cling to something normal?"

Jeremy didn't answer. He frowned and gave a small shrug.

"I know I love Ginny," Harry went on. "And I know that we could have a future together. As exciting as this thing is with Snape, I was with Ginny first and I intend to stay with her. I mean…Snape's just some…some twisted sort of fantasy that I've been playing out. Seriously, what sort of future could I ever possibly have with him?"

"But you're having an affair! There must be some reason for that, surely? There must be a reason for why it's still going on."

Closing his eyes, Harry let his head fall into his hand. Despite how good it felt to finally be sharing this with somebody, getting his thoughts into coherent sentences was proving difficult, not to mention confusing. It was like his whole being just couldn't decide what it wanted - one minute he'd be feeling a particular thing, and then the next it was something completely different, and whenever he felt as though he'd manage to come to some form of conclusion he'd be filled with nothing but doubt.

Why had he made friends with Snape? Because the man had seemed lonely, because Harry had been grateful for all that he'd done, because he'd wanted a connection with his parents, because Snape deserved to have someone care.

Why had the affair started? Because being with Snape had felt new and exciting, because he actually liked the man's company, because they got on so well together.

Why was it still going on?

"I…I suppose," he said, opening his eyes but still not looking at Jeremy, "I suppose I like being with him. I like making him happy. He's had such an awful life…and when I make him happy…knowing that it's me that's doing that to him, that it's me making him feel that way, that he's letting me….that he wants me…" He bit his lip and looked at the other man, lost.

Jeremy, however, looked quite shocked.

"Pity? You're with him out of pity?"

Harry's eye's grew wide and he sat up straight, almost knocking over his drink.

"No! That's not what I meant. Of course it's not pity, I…" He sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry. I'm not really making much sense. It's hard to explain."

His assistant seemed to think on that for a second, then nodded and picked up his drink. Harry frowned and tried again.

"I like the way he looks at me," he said slowly, speaking as the words scrambled for attention in his mind. "I like that I can make him look at me like that. We're so different yet so similar. And we have history together, you know? He's helped me out so many times when I didn't even suspect a thing, when all I ever did was hate him." He sipped some of his drink. "And we've seen into each other's minds - how many people can say that? We knew so much about one another before any of this even started. I don't have to hide anything from him."

"But you do with Miss. Weasley?"

Harry shrugged. "Sometimes. I had to hide my friendship with Snape for a while. And obviously there are parts of me she doesn't know about, parts that I've only just discovered myself. I'm having a gay affair, for crying out loud! The fact that I enjoy a man's company in that way…of course she doesn't know. Even if I just liked the idea but never indulged…I could never tell her. Who wants to know their fiancé is thinking about gay sex? Who wants a bisexual for a husband?"

Harry had to force down the emotion that welled up at those words. Voicing all this was hitting all the wrong nerves.

"So you're bisexual then? Not gay?"

Harry waved a hand. "Does it really need a label? Whatever this is…that's what I am."

"But you just said -"

"I was just saying, giving an example…"

"But this is serious, Harry. If you don't want to decide your sexuality then at least decide who you want to be with. You can't carry on like this."

Harry glanced up. "Who do you think I should be with?"

"Well, that's not really for me to say, is it," Jeremy said sternly.

Harry groaned and ran a hand through his hair.

"What if…OK, lets just say that I leave Ginny to be with Snape. What if it doesn't work out? What if spending all that time together drives us both insane?"

"Then you would have gotten what you deserve," Jeremy muttered into his drink.

"Yes, thank you, Mr. Jenkson," he snapped. "I know I'm being a heartless bastard right now but do you really have to comment on it?"

"Well, I'm sorry, but this is just all wrong," he replied loudly. "You can't string one along until you know you'll be alright with the other. It's not like buying a new pair of shoes and returning them when they're not quite as comfortable you'd thought they were. These are people's lives you're messing with. And…and quite frankly…right now, I'm ashamed to call you my boss."

There was a loud clink as the bottle of firewhisky collided with the side of the glass in Severus's hand. Steadying his movements, he poured himself a more-than-generous amount and downed it in one long gulp, not wincing once as the liquid burnt it's way down his throat, warming him from the inside out. He swayed on his feet and he reached out a hand to grip the back of the armchair. A moment later, the feeling had passed and he turned his attention back to the portrait above the fireplace.

"Did you ever regret it?" Severus's words were soft, quiet, and he watched Dumbledore's face frown.

"Not meeting someone," he added. "Did you ever regret it? If you could do your life over…do you think you'd allow yourself more?"

Albus answered after just a few seconds pause.

"I'm happy with how my life turned out, Severus. I made some wrong choices here and there, and I regret a great number of things. But I wouldn't change anything. I helped and inspired many people."

Severus wasn't surprised at that answer, but it didn't satisfy the need in him to know more, to niggle the old man until he admitted weakness and heartache, until his own pain didn't seem so bad.

"You spent your entire life alone. Surely at some point you craved a companion? Surely you craved to…to be held by comforting arms…" (he snorted at the image that conjured up) "…to hide away from the world with the person you loved. And surely even you craved sex."

Again, Dumbledore frowned, his bushy grey eyebrows drawing together above his wrinkled forehead.

"Is that what it is? Love? Is that what you and Harry share?"

Severus scowled and turned his back. "This isn't about me," he snapped. "This is about you - you and your…your…" He growled and dropped down onto the sofa, still scowling to himself, his hand still clutching his empty glass.

He looked up and fixed Albus with a hard stare. "Lies," he sneered. "All of it. Why can't you just admit it? Admit that you felt human desires just as much as the next person did! Why do you have to dehumanise yourself like you're some sort of god, some god that doesn't need to lower himself to the most basic of human needs?"

He was angry now, not to mention a little drunk, spitting his words out from between clenched teeth. He was full of energy, completely on edge, his foot jiggling up and down, his fingers drumming the side of his glass. Any minute now he felt he would explode.

He hated Albus. The man had always given such lectures on love, like it was some sort of magical power, some sort of antidote to all of the world's problems, that it was the greatest gift a person could ever hope for.

But had Albus Dumbledore, greatest wizard of all time, Headmaster of Hogwarts School, ever felt something more than that platonic love he'd had for everyone around him? Had he ever felt passion, or been consumed by desire and pure wanton need? How could the man presume to even begin to understand any of this if he'd never experienced it himself?

Harry Potter. The very name filled Severus with equal amounts of dread and excitement.

His thoughts soared back to the time when Harry had arrived on his doorstep, asking - practically begging - Severus to have sex with him. In the morning, Severus had woken up first and for a long time he'd just watched Harry sleep. He'd been so happy with the development, but so afraid of losing the boy. Miraculously though, Harry had returned.

He couldn't imagine not seeing Harry. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to go back to his old routine. The boy saw things in Severus that no one else had ever done and he welcomed the change Harry brought to his life. For reasons unknown, Harry wanted him and if he ever left, Severus would sorely feel the gap.

Love? Yes. This was love. He felt it in every vein, every nerve, every muscle. Somehow, and against his better judgement, he'd managed to fall in love with Harry Potter. But this feeling he was experiencing, this ache in his chest, this heavy weight that sat in his stomach - in all honesty…it didn't feel that great. It didn't feel like that magnificent, powerful, all-consuming feeling that Dumbledore had always talked about. It didn't seem like an answer to a single problem. It didn't make him feel giddy or lightheaded or any of that other stuff.

It hurt. It hurt deep down inside of him and he felt it so acutely that he would be more than happy to never feel it again.

Love. What the hell did Dumbledore know?

A/N: Please review if you liked it. And review if you didn't - it's good to know what works and what doesn't lol. xx