A week later, and Blaise was once more standing outside his mother's front door, though this time he was alone. Again, it was Tabby who let him in.

"Are my-parents-" The word seemed strange to Blaise; he didn't think he'd ever used it before and he'd certainly never known them to be in one place. "Where are they?" he asked instead of completing his original sentence.

"Mr. Zabini and Tabby's mistress are in the drawing room, sir. Shall Tabby summon his mistress?" the house-elf asked, bowing.

Blaise glanced around. "No, I'll just go on in."

The door to the drawing room was slightly ajar and Blaise knocked on it but did not wait for a reply before entering.

"Blaise!" Luca Zabini crossed the room with quick strides and clasped Blaise's hand briefly, then changed his mind and embraced his son. "It is very good to see you again," he said, stepping back and beaming at Blaise.

"Good to see you too," Blaise replied, grinning back at his father.

They stood for a moment, looking at each other, and then his mother came over to give Blaise the customary hug.

"I'm so glad you could come, Blaise." She smiled warmly at him, and Blaise thought she looked a bit different than the last time he had seen her, though he didn't know how.

"Sit down, Blaise," she invited. "Nonie will let us know when the luncheon is ready but she hasn't come yet. And after lunch…well, your father has some strange notions." She smiled at Luca. "For some reason, he thinks we want to go boating down on the lake. So if you don't object, Blaise, we'll spend the afternoon on the water."

Blaise shrugged and sat. "Fine by me."

"It is a beautiful day," Luca said firmly. "And there is no better place to enjoy it than on the water. You will like it," he assured Akila, smiling as well.

"I'm sure I shall."

Blaise had never seen his mother smile so much. She looked very happy, and he couldn't remember ever seeing her do that, either. He felt rather like he was interrupting something between just the two of them, like he ought not to be there.

Nonie entered the room at that moment. "The luncheon is ready, mistress, whenever mistress and sirs are ready to step into the dining room."

"Yes, thank you, Nonie," Akila said, her happiness including even the house-elf apparently. "We will come right away."

"Yes, mistress," Nonie squeaked, and scurried away.

Luca rose and offered an arm to Akila. "Might I have the honour?"

Akila dimpled. "I would be delighted."

The meal was not unpleasant, Blaise thought, and the boating could even have been fun if he had not felt, quite honestly, bored. It made him a little uncomfortable, watching his parents, and mostly he just wanted to leave them alone. He regretted very much that Tracey had promised her mother she would spend the day there.

Blaise chose to take his leave around four o'clock. Both his parents saw him to the door.

"I think I will have to come visit you alone, Blaise," Luca remarked. "For as long as this distracting little woman is around, we will not be able to hold a proper conversation at all. Perhaps sometime this next week?"

"Yeah, sure. Owl me, we can figure something out," Blaise agreed.

"Thank you for coming, Blaise." Akila hugged him again.

Blaise nodded. "I'll see you later," he said to her.

"Goodbye, Blaise," his father said.

As Blaise headed down the long path towards the road, he glanced back and saw that Luca had put his arm around Akila's shoulders. They were talking, and from the looks on their faces the conversation was deeply enjoyable.

True to his word, Luca Zabini owled Blaise the next day and on Wednesday evening they went out to eat together. It was not an unpleasant meal, but before Luca said goodnight he asked Blaise a question that left him with mixed feelings, though he couldn't have said he hadn't seen it coming.

"How would you feel about it if I was to-finally-marry your mother, Blaise?"

Blaise said he didn't know, which was true. The idea of his parents being married was something he couldn't quite get used to, if he had been turning it over in his mind ever since reading that letter.

"I won't lie to you," Luca Zabini said. "I have already decided to ask her to marry me. But I wouldn't like to think you-our son, would hate it. After all, you were the one who brought us together."

"I didn't mean to," Blaise said bluntly.

Luca smiled. "I know that. But be that as it may, I would never have sought your mother out if you would not have reopened that chapter in my life."

Blaise shrugged. "So you haven't asked her yet?"

"No, I have not." Luca shrugged too. "It's a bit strange that I would ask you first, but I wanted to know what your feelings are on the matter."

"Don't see how it matters much what I think," Blaise replied. "You said it won't make any difference."

"No, Blaise, it would mean a great deal to both of us, knowing that you would not resent it."

Blaise shrugged again. "Go ahead then. I reckon it's what she wants anyway."

Luca studied him a moment. "Thank you, Blaise," he said finally.

As soon as Blaise got back to his flat he owled Tracey, telling her he needed to see her. It seemed to take a long time for her to respond, and even when the owl came, it was short and did not say what he wanted it to.

Blaise-
Do you want to come to my flat for supper tomorrow? What time to you get off?
-Tracey

He wanted to see her now, not tomorrow after another long day of training, but he scrawled an assent anyway.

So, ten minutes after he left the Ministry, Tracey opened the door to see Blaise frowning at her.

"Hi," she said, raising her eyebrows at his scowl. "You don't seem particularly pleased to see me."

Blaise sighed suddenly and stepped inside, gathering Tracey into his arms. She hugged him back but pulled away sooner than he would have preferred.

"Blaise? Is something wrong?"

He hesitated, then shrugged. "Do I get any supper?"

Tracey's mouth twisted downwards slightly, but she said, "Of course. It's ready. Come on out to the kitchen."

Tracey chatted lightly while they ate, telling him about her day. She set the dishes to washing themselves and carried cups of coffee into the living room for them.

"So how was your day?" she asked him once they were sitting on the sofa.

Blaise shrugged. "It was okay. Long."

"You're tired," Tracey said quietly.

He nodded and shrugged, and she smiled a little. After a moment he handed her his coffee cup and lay down with his head on her lap. She set both cups on the side table and began absently tracing patterns on his face, letting the silence stretch on and on. It wasn't a waiting silence, and Blaise wondered why not. She knew something was up but she didn't seem to even be thinking about it.

He stirred restlessly under her fingers and she looked down at him.

"My parents are getting married," he said.

He knew Tracey's natural reaction would be joy, that she would see this as a good thing. He could see it in her eyes, the words hovering on her lips, but only momentarily. She swallowed the words, replaced the pleasure with an inquiring look.

"Does that bother you?"

Blaise shrugged. "I reckon I knew it would come ever since I read that letter. Maybe even before…" He hesitated. "I told him to go ahead and do it."

"He asked you?"

"Yeah…"

The corners of Tracey's mouth twitched. "That's a new one. Usually you would ask the father of the woman, rather than the son."

Blaise couldn't help grinning back at her, but it didn't last long. "Yeah well, he wasn't asking for permission exactly… He told me he was gonna do it anyway. He just didn't want me to hate it."

Tracey still smiled a little. Her fingers, which had stilled, resumed their gentle circular movements across his cheek. "So you told him you wouldn't?"

Blaise shrugged. "Didn't much matter what I thought."

She nodded, not bothering to dispute the fact. "Though he cared enough to ask. Did you spend time alone with him Sunday, then?"

"No… We ate together last night."

Tracey raised her eyebrows. "So he asked her already?"

Blaise shrugged again. "I don't know."

"So you don't know for sure that they will get married," she pointed out, half questioningly.

"She'll say yes." Blaise had no doubts about this. "She was never one for saying no to a man, anyway. Not when he was asking her to marry him."

"Never?"

"Well, I guess she must have sometimes," Blaise conceded. "But she'll say yes to him."

Tracey accepted this with a nod. "You don't think she deserves a happy ending?"

Blaise turned his head to look into those blue eyes. "Do you?"

She hesitated. "I…don't really know, Blaise. Maybe she does. Maybe she needs it. But…it wasn't me she hurt."

Two days later Blaise was approached by an owl during his lunch break. After accepting the letter and scanning it quickly, he dropped it on the table and sighed. It did not say much, the letter, merely asked if she could come to his flat that evening. But he knew what had prompted her to ask, though he didn't know what she wanted of him. After a moment he scrawled a response, telling her that she could come if she wanted and also the time he would be home.

She came directly on time, knocking on the door of his flat eagerly, and when he opened the door she flung her arms around him all joy.

"We're going to be married, Blaise!"

Blaise resisted the urge to say "Why?" He sighed and endured her delighted embrace a moment longer before removing her arms and leading her into his flat.

"You don't seem surprised," she noted as she trailed after him into the kitchen.

"Reckon I'm not."

Blaise wanted some firewhiskey but after a glance at his mother he chose a bottle of chardonnay instead.

She accepted the goblet but frowned at him. "You-you don't mind, Blaise, do you?"

Blaise looked at his mother, the small crease between her eyes, her slightly parted, uncertain lips, the silent plea written across her face, and he fought a brief, silent battle with himself. Then he sighed and put down the bottle.

"No, Mother," he said quietly. "I don't mind."

To his surprise, tears formed in his mother's grey eyes. "Oh, Blaise…" she whispered. "I'm so happy. Thank you so much."

It was to be a quiet wedding, his mother said, just a small affair. Not much fuss. But Blaise soon decided that if this was a quiet, small, not much fuss wedding, he never in his life wanted anything to do with the other sort. True, there weren't many wedding guests. But it seemed to him there were so many things-clothing and food and drink and decorations and more that he didn't bother take notice of.

Blaise, it turned out, was a great deal involved in the wedding preparations-much to his surprise. Because, for some reason he couldn't fathom, Tracey had somehow become his mother's biggest helper. The two spent hours poring over material, making lists of everything under the sun, discussing who should be invited and countless other things. Blaise didn't want to be part of this, and said so, but somehow nearly all the time he had away from the Ministry was spent at his mother's manor, listening to Tracey and Akila 'talking wedding' intensely while Luca sat off to the side, an iced drink in hand, frequently contributing a sentence or two-Akila asked for Luca's opinion rather a lot.

The wedding date was set for May 26th, and Akila said that was no time at all to get ready for a wedding and Luca must be mad to think she could manage. His response was a cheerful "Let us just go do it right now, and skip all this bother." But Blaise could easily tell his mother was enjoying herself, and just as obviously his father was enjoying watching Akila enjoy herself.

But there was more to it than just getting ready for the wedding. Blaise's parents were going to Italy after they were married, and the manor would be shut up-at least for now.

"We might come back," Luca said. "But we do not know if it would be in two years or ten or twenty. So we had better plan accordingly."

And they did. Much of it the house-elves could do, but there were many decisions Akila had to make that took time.

One evening as Akila and Tracey sat together, guest list between them, his mother turned to Blaise.

"Oh, Blaise, we've been meaning to ask-is there anyone you would like to have invited?"

Blaise was sitting at the table with them, but he hadn't been paying much attention. He looked up now, saying, "Huh?"

"Would you like to invite some of your friends to the wedding?"

Blaise looked at Tracey. "I don't know; ask her."

Tracey rolled her eyes at him. "She was asking you. I'm not her daughter; it would be dumb for me to try to add to the guest list."

"Oh, but is there someone you would like me to invite for you, dear?" Akila asked at once, turning to the younger woman.

Tracey laughed. "No, really, Akila, thank you, but it isn't my wedding. I mean, really it hasn't got anything to do with me."

"Oh, but Tracey, you're helping me so much, you're starting to seem indispensable."

"It hasn't got anything to do with you?" Blaise asked in disbelief. "Trace, you've been putting your heart and soul into this wedding ever since we came here for dinner because my mother wanted to 'celebrate with us'. I didn't know then that that was code for stealing my girl for days on end, or I don't think we would've come."

Tracey smiled at him. "It's lots of fun, Blaise."

"But that reminds me," his mother spoke up. "Tracey saying that it hasn't got anything to do with her, I mean. Not that that isn't completely untrue," she added for Blaise's sake. "But anyway, your father and I would be honoured if you two would be our attendants.

"Your attendants?" Blaise repeated slightly perplexedly.

Akila nodded. "Best man and maid of honour, if you will."

"What, you're not going to have a long line of bridesmaids?"

His mother raised an eyebrow. "It's to be a small wedding, Blaise, remember?"

"With all this?" Blaise gestured around. "I'd forgotten."

Akila rolled her eyes. "A small wedding, Blaise. With only two attendants." She held up two fingers as if afraid he might not understand. "My two favourite people, other than the groom himself." She sent a smile to Luca that prompted Blaise to make a face at Tracey, who laughed.

"There's something unnatural about making a son witness his parents' wedding," he muttered.

Akila laughed. "Blaise, you are very skilled at avoiding questions. I've asked you two that you haven't answered."

"You have? Blame it on him." Blaise pointed to his father. "I reckon he taught me."

Akila laughed again. "I haven't noticed-" She stopped. "You're doing it again, Blaise!"

"Sorry, sorry. What do you want me to answer?"

"First, is there anyone you would like to invite to the wedding?"

Blaise looked at Tracey. "Is there?"

She pushed his feet off the table. "You know, Blaise, generally when one directs a question at a particular person, it's because one wants that person to answer."

He put them back up. "Yeah, but when I am that person I ask you so I won't say anything I'll regret."

She pushed them off again. "And when you do I say, what do you think?"

He replaced them. "And then I say, I don't know. Shall I invite the old crowd?"

She pushed them off. "Who all do you count as the old crowd?"

He put them up. "Pansy, Daphne, Malfoy, Anastasia…maybe."

She sighed resignedly and pointedly. "No Crabbe, Goyle, Millicent, or Theodore?"

"Is Nott around again? Sure, you can invite him. But I don't enjoy having Millicent or Crabbe and Goyle around."

"Okay… But Draco and Daphne are married, so that means two more people, and I'm sure Pansy will bring Adrian, so that's another person… Are you set on Anastasia?"

Blaise took his feet off the table. "No, not at all."

Tracey laughed. "Okay. So we have Pansy and Adrian, Terence and Daphne, Draco and Astoria, and Theodore, if we can get him? Is that alright, Akila?" she asked, turning to Blaise's mother.

Akila smiled. "Yes, that's just fine. And now my next question, Blaise. Will you be best man?"

For some reason Blaise looked at his father. "Yeah," he said brusquely.

"And you, Tracey?"

Tracey beamed. "I'd be delighted."

There was a country lane which passed by Akila Beaumont's manor, and no matter how late they left Blaise and Tracey made a habit of walking along it a little while before they Disapparated. It was the only time they had alone together these days, and time alone with Tracey was something Blaise was not willing to give up.

One night as they walked through the pleasantly cool twilight air Blaise commented, "You know, I remember seeing my mother get married six times, and not once was she like this."

"Like what?" Tracey responded.

"Laughing and happy and stuff. Reckon I've never been this involved, either."

Tracey looked over at him. "She's marrying someone she really loves, who really loves her…"

Blaise shrugged. "Some of the others loved her."

"But she didn't really love them, did she?"

He shrugged again. "Don't reckon."

Tracey slipped her hand into his. "Do you hate this so much, Blaise?"

He looked down at their hands and then at her. "No…it's alright."

She smiled.

The wedding day came sooner than he expected. They spent the morning at the manor, finishing up. After lunch he took Tracey to her mother's home, and then went to his flat. He whiled away the afternoon in sleep mostly, waking up in time to get ready and go get Tracey at her flat. He was surprised, though, when she opened the door.

Blaise had seen Tracey dressed up on several occasions; but the closest she had ever come to this was at the Yule Ball in their fourth year. The difference was that then she had been a pretty girl who Blaise wasn't all that interested in, and now she was beautiful young woman who had become the centre of his universe.

The dress, which was a colour he had heard his mother refer to as 'grape', was both strapless and made out of some soft, floaty material, which in Blaise's opinion were two reasons to like it. It was also knee-length and had a black sash. And despite Tracey's three-inch heels, he was still taller than her. Her hair was slightly curled and half up in an artfully messy arrangement. She was wearing a bit more makeup than he was used to seeing on her, but she still looked, he thought, very very good.

Tracey laughed at his staring, and twirled for him. "Are you pleased with how I look?" she asked him.

"You're beautiful," Blaise said simply.

Tracey smiled. "Thank you. Shall we go?"

"Are you ready?"

She grabbed a bag off the hall table and said, "Yes, I am."

Blaise took the bag from her and they walked out of her flat's protection to Disapparate. As their feet hit the ground, Tracey stumbled and Blaise automatically grabbed her.

She looked up into his face and then tried to pull away. "No way, Blaise, don't you dare kiss me. Do you know how much time I spent on this?" She gestured towards her face.

Blaise let her go and they started walking towards the manor.

"I like better when you don't wear makeup," he said.

Tracey laughed at his disgruntled tone. "Lipstick," she told him. "I don't usually wear lipstick. But don't you like how it looks?"

He looked intently at her mouth. "What's the point of it looking nice if I can't kiss it?"

She laughed again. "I admire your logic," she said. "You can kiss it, but not right before your mother sees me."

Tabby let them in. "If you please, Miss Tracey, Tabby's mistress would like to have you come up to her room. Mr. Zabini is in the drawing room, Master Blaise." He bowed.

Luca was standing at the window, looking out, but he turned when Blaise entered.

"Ah, Blaise, it is good to see you again," he greeted. "I've been spending the time alone because my lovely bride insists on observing the tradition that the groom should not see the bride before the wedding-and who am I to argue?"

Blaise shrugged. "Tracey went up to her."

"Good. Now there's a small matter she wanted me to ask you about-in a traditional wedding the bride is given away by her father. Your mother's father has long been dead of course, and she wondered if you would do her the honour of escorting her up the aisle."

Blaise shrugged again. "Sure, I reckon."

Luca smiled. "Thank you, Blaise," he said, briefly clasping his son's shoulder. "In that case, you may go upstairs. She should be done with her preparations by now; the guests should be here any minute, which means I need to go outside. I will see you later."

The father exited the room. Blaise looked around and waited a moment before leaving as well. He met his mother and Tracey at the top of the stairs.

As accustomed as he was to Akila's beauty, it made him pause today. She wore a long white dress of simple yet elegant design and a soft, shoulder-length white veil over her dark hair which was up in an elaborate arrangement. All this, though very pretty, wasn't what surprised him; he was used to seeing her beautifully arrayed. But today his mother was glowing and her beauty was almost disturbing to him.

"Blaise!" Akila exclaimed joyfully. "You've agreed to give me away then?"

Blaise jerked his head and Tracey beamed.

"That's lovely. Isn't your mother just a vision, Blaise?" she added, and though her voice was full of admiration and something almost like pride, there was a just a touch wistfulness in it too.

"I reckon," Blaise assented. Then he reached out and pulled Tracey close to his side. "But I prefer blondes," he whispered in her ear and was pleased to see her answering smile light up her face.

His mother descended the stairs in front of them and Blaise held Tracey's hand all the way to the bottom.

"Let's go into the library," Akila suggested. "We'll be able to see when we should go outside."

The wedding was to take places on the manor lawns. Silver chairs had been placed neatly in rows for the guests to sit upon and a white carpet stretched from a little behind the back row to the arbour which Luca and Akila were going to be married there. In fact, the black iron arch hadn't been there until earlier that day, though the white lilies which grew in such wild profusion over it didn't seem to realize that. The chairs were nearly full of guests now, though there weren't very many of either. Blaise couldn't see his father.

"It's time," Akila said suddenly in a voice that vibrated with awe, and made Blaise look at her in slight bemusement.

Tracey smiled and hugged Akila carefully. "Let's go then."

They went. They merely walked in a group until they could see the guests, when Akila stopped and said that they had better arrange themselves properly.

As Blaise and his mother followed Tracey up the aisle, he heard silvery ethereal music and felt the eyes and whispers of those who sat on the chairs and watched. He knew what they were saying and thinking, most of them-that his mother was so very beautiful and that this was her eighth husband would surely bring forth many comments, and the fact that she was marrying again would remind them of her previous husbands and their mysterious deaths, which meant that there was probably much speculation going on as well. Blaise didn't let this sort of thing bother him; people had often speculated about his mother and what her role might be in her husbands' deaths. Yet somehow, perhaps in part due to her radiant happiness, he felt a sudden surprising surge of protectiveness. After all, whatever she had done, she was his mother and they had no business talking about it, not like that, not today. And no matter what they might think, he knew that she would never harm a hair on Luca Zabini's head.

The ceremony seemed to take a while to Blaise. He watched Tracey through most of it. Though she met his eyes from time to time, mostly she was focused on the bride and groom, smiling with a gentle sort of joy. Finally, though, it was over and Luca and Akila were swiftly surrounded by well-wishers. Blaise caught Tracey's arm and pulled her away from the sudden crowd.

A circle of small tables were made to appear, the chairs rearranged to group around them, and there were waiters with food and drinks too. Darkness had fallen by now and above the tables hovered candles in glass globes, while underfoot the velvety grass was covered by a black, highly-polished dance floor.

Blaise and Tracey sat at one of the small tables. He grabbed firewhiskey for each of them from a passing tray and then they sat in silence, watching the people.

Finally the crowd around Luca and Akila dispersed somewhat. The music swelled again and they began dancing, as their guests watched and applauded. Blaise looked at Tracey and then stood and held out his hand. She took it and they joined his parents on the dance floor. More guests joined them, while others sat at the tables to eat and talk and watch the dancers. Blaise would not have minded doing this, but he knew he was expected to dance with Tracey, and then with his mother, so he did so before he went to sit down with Tracey again.

"You're quiet tonight," she observed, accepting the sandwich he had claimed for her.

He shrugged. "No one else is," he pointed out.

Tracey laughed. "No, not really… Your parents look happy."

Blaise looked at them. "They are."

"Hi you two!"

Pansy had come over, followed by Adrian Pucey. While the girls hugged, Blaise and Adrian nodded at each other a little curtly; they had never had much to do with each other and wouldn't mind keeping it that way.

"This is just the sweetest wedding," Pansy gushed. "Your mother, Blaise, is one of the most beautiful brides I've ever seen. I'm so glad I got to be here."

Tracey smiled. "It is lovely," she agreed.

"Oh, I love this song," Pansy said suddenly. "Let's dance, shall we?"

Adrian Pucey nodded agreeably and they left, only to be quickly replaced by Terence and Daphne Higgs.

Daphne sat down, one hand on her pregnant stomach. "I wonder if this child will be less exhausting to carry around once it's born. Oh, hello, Tracey, Blaise."

"Hi, Daphne," Tracey said. "How soon will it be born?"

"One more month to go. I feel so big," Daphne moaned, and smiled. "I wanted to dance but I can't really. Why aren't you two?"

Tracey looked at Blaise. "He didn't want to."

"You can dance with Terence if you want to," Daphne offered freely.

The look Blaise gave Terence gave the impression that he was just daring him to ask Tracey to dance.

"Oh no, that's fine," Tracey said quickly, laying a hand on Blaise's. "We did dance, earlier, and I was ready to sit down anyway."

Daphne shrugged. "Oh, I want some firewhiskey! But Terence says no drinking til this child is born, and I know he's right. But I actually really want some!"

Tracey laughed. "Can you have butterbeer?"

Daphne looked at Terence, who shrugged.

"I probably shouldn't, but they have pumpkin juice too, don't they? I want some of that."

Terence went to find her some and Daphne chattered on, Tracey interjecting replies where appropriate. Blaise tuned them out, watching his parents revolving on the dance floor. They were both smiling and he suddenly felt a twinge he couldn't quite identify.

Suddenly he turned to Tracey. "Let's dance."

She looked surprised, but smiled. "Okay."

Theodore Nott was not there; he was still abroad. Neither were Draco and Astoria Malfoy; they had merely declined with thanks, without giving a reason.

"I am so tired," Tracey said, and sat on the ground.

It was late. The guests and the bride and groom were all gone, but Blaise and Tracey had stayed to see everything returned to normal and the manor locked up, which was what Blaise was doing at the moment. Tabby and Nonie were to stay on, taking care of the place, but his mother preferred it to be locked up anyway.

The job done, Blaise turned and looked down at Tracey.

"You want to sit there how long?"

She laughed and held up her hand, which he took and pulled her to her feet.

"It's been a long day," she observed as they started down the long, cobbled path.

"Yeah…" Blaise agreed, and yawned.

She laughed again and he took hold of her hand.

"It seems like a long time since I was at a wedding," Tracey murmured. "Draco and Astoria, I guess."

"I missed all those," Blaise replied.

She looked at him. "Do you wish you hadn't?"

He shrugged. "Weddings aren't really my thing."

"Mm." Tracey grew quiet.

Tonight they did not walk the country lane, but Apparated to Tracey's flat as soon as they were able. Blaise did not even go in; he thought she looked too tired. Instead he kissed her at the door and went home himself.

A/N: Not overly quick, but longer than usual, so that makes up for it right? Sad news, lovelies, I have hit a rough spot! Which is to say, I know where this is going, I know what the ending is, but I am having a blank as to what come next because I don't actually want to skip a couple of years. Fluff, apparently, is needed. If ya'll have any inspiring ideas, throw them at me! I may love you forever :)
On a completely unrelated topic, my supermegafoxyawesomehot sistah bought me a Palmer GrandBunny HEFFELFLOPPER today! I am deeply in love with chocolate Easter Bunnies. REJOICE WITH ME! :)
Later dears...