Title: The Boys Who Lived
Author: Shara Lunison
Beta: Batsutousai
Rating for this Chapter: M
Pairings: Harry/Henry (OMC), several others—none of them canon
Warnings: SLASH, twincest, slightly manipulative!Dumbledore, grey Harry/Henry, OoC-ness, others as I think of them.
Summary: The Potter twins are attacked by Voldemort and somehow defeat him. Now the Dark Lord has returned and they have to choose between light and dark. SLASH, Twincest, rated M for later chapters.
Disclaim Her: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: The third section is another LIME. DO NOT READ if you are under 18 or are not interested. Also, I got lazy last chapter and didn't look up the calendar for 1993. As a result, The Morning After should really be a Friday…but I'm making it a Saturday. :P
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Horace Slughorn
Voldemort hissed in displeasure as the Death Eater knelt before him, shaking with fear. Clearly, the assignment had not been completed. Again.
"What is your excuse this time, Flint?" he whispered, allowing none of his exasperation to enter his voice.
"M-My lord… I can't get close to him! I'm not smart enough or special enough to get into the Slug Club, and…"
"CRUCIO!" Voldemort relished the boy's screams even as he shook his head on the inside. The poor fool couldn't even be bothered to think up a new reason for his failure. Finally, he released the curse after several minutes and spoke. "Horace Slughorn is an easily manipulated fool, but he is still a Slytherin. Perhaps you are being too blunt, Flint?"
"N-No, my lord!" Flint protested, as he tried to rise back to his knees. "I'm being sneaky! I keep dropping little hints, little hooks that would work if he would just respond to them. But every time, he just makes some excuse and leaves as quickly as he can!"
Voldemort had the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Idiots.
A slight snort of disgust came from his lover, standing beside the throne in the shadows.
Voldemort sighed. Severus. Now, Severus would have had the recipe months ago, without even speaking to that fool Slughorn.
Flint looked to be within moments of prostrating himself after his outburst. Voldemort spoke again, "We are running out of time, Flint. There are only two more months left to prepare, and Severus will need time to figure out the potion before we strike. I don't care how you do it, but you will get the recipe! Follow him around under disillusionment spell if you have to!"
"Y-Yes, my lord," Flint stuttered. "I'll try, my lord."
"There is no more 'trying', Flint," Voldemort whispered. "If you have still failed by the next time I summon you, it will mean your death."
"I will not fail you, my lord!" Flint cried recklessly. "You will have it by the first of May!"
"Good." Voldemort stroked the arm of his throne and smiled nastily at the boy. "Now get out!"
Flint couldn't comply fast enough. As soon as the last edge of his robes disappeared around the door, Severus spoke. "Tom, is this really necessary? Aberforth has informed us that Albus is already dying…"
"And I will not give that old fool the satisfaction of a peaceful death!" Voldemort snapped. He stood and turned to face the younger man, advancing on him and pressing him against the side of the throne.
Severus leaned back with trepidation. "Tom, I…"
"I sense that your reluctance has less to do with our attack on Hogwarts and more to do with your unwillingness to kill the old man," Voldemort hissed, gripping Severus' face in one sharp-nailed hand and forcing the other's eyes to meet his own.
Severus struggled for words as those red eyes bored into his black. "He…he did well by me, my lord. He's the only reason I was free and able to help you."
"So now it's 'my lord' instead of 'Tom'?" Voldemort asked, suddenly releasing him.
"Tom," Severus amended. "He saved my life. I do not quite owe him a life debt, but it is a near thing."
"That is why you must be the one to kill him!" Voldemort cried. "Don't you see, Severus? Until you discharge your debt to him, you will always be holding yourself back. Until you kill him, you are not truly my equal!"
Severus sucked in a breath and bowed his head. "I will be ready to do it when the time comes, Tom. I promise."
The Dark Lord's voice suddenly became soft and gentle. "I know it is hard, Severus. But you can do it. For me?"
Severus looked up, his eyes shining. "Yes. Always for you."
-o-0-o-
When Henry woke up the next morning in his brother's arms, he was both embarrassed and happy as he remembered what occurred the night before. It had felt good—to touch and to be touched—and he could feel a slight tingle of anticipation at the thought of further explorations.
It was as he snaked an arm over Harry's side to snuggle closer that Henry realized they were both still naked, pressed crotch to crotch with a typical morning…problem.
The tingle of anticipation turned into a flash of heat that traveled from the tips of his ears down to his toes, leaving his penis thick and engorged. He resisted the temptation to rub against Harry, who was obliviously still asleep, and tried to will the erection away.
Then Harry moaned, arching his hips against him. Henry tensed and bit back a moan in response to the light friction. Was Harry really awake?
But no, a moment later Harry sighed and half rolled over onto his back. Henry took the opportunity to scuttle to the other edge of the bed and think about the situation. It was obvious that if Harry did wake up soon, they could do a little more exploration. He surprised himself by how wanton he was feeling after last night—up until now, Henry had always been the prude, hesitant one when interacting with his brother intimately. Perhaps now the tables could turn?
Henry eyed his brother's nude body in contemplation. He didn't know very much about sex—little more than that certain things went certain places and it was supposed to feel good. But he had heard about one thing he could try. And the boy he had heard it from had said it felt good for his partner as well.
Without realizing it, a wolfish grin had appeared on Henry's face as he burrowed under the covers and crawled head-first towards Harry. A bit of maneuvering got him between his brother's legs, and just enough light shone through the sheets and blankets for him to see his goal.
-o-0-o-
Harry woke from a sound sleep with the most wonderful warm sensation on his cock. His sleep-addled brain wondered for a moment if he had had an orgasm during the somewhat nice dream he was having, but then the warmth turned to wetness and moved. He moaned, reaching a hand under the covers to find his brother's head bobbing up and down over his crotch.
"H-Hen…what…ah!"
Henry released the cock with a pop and pushed back the covers from them both so he could see Harry's face. They were both flushed—Harry with arousal and Henry from the heat under the blanket.
"Does it feel good?" Henry asked, suddenly nervous again.
"Yessssss…" Harry hissed, his fingers tangling in Henry's hair and gently guiding his lips back down to his penis, still standing at attention and weeping slightly at the tip.
Henry began to suck again enthusiastically, finding that he really enjoyed the feeling of the hard length in his mouth. When it brushed the back of his throat when he pushed down too far, he nearly gagged. But Harry's particularly loud moan made him try to do it again, and again, and again. He figured out that it was possible to control his reflex to gag, and thereby take Harry deeper into his throat.
"Hen..." Harry panted. "Where did you learn…?"
Henry stopped sucking for a moment and began to run his tongue over his brother's cock instead so that he could answer. "Heard about it in the Slytherin common room. But I'm just making this up as I go along. Is it all right?"
"'s good," Harry gasped. Henry's tongue was wiggling in the slit at the tip of his penis, then swirling around the edge over the retracted foreskin.
Harry couldn't seem to stop his hips from thrusting up against Henry's mouth. His brother pushed them down, keeping them there with the weight from his arms and torso. Harry whined in the back of his throat, mindless to everything but the feelings Henry was eliciting in him.
"Come for me, Harry," Hen whispered. He went back to sucking strongly on his brother's cock, bobbing up and down as fast as he could manage. He loved the feeling of the hardness sliding in and out over his tongue. He experimented with a slight scrape of his teeth as he pulled up each time, and Harry fell over the edge, his bitter, milky cum filling Henry's mouth and throat as he continued to suck every last drop out of the quickly softening cock.
Henry kept a tight hold on the thin barrier separating their minds. He could feel the strength of his brother's emotions from the other side, but was not overwhelmed by them as Harry had been the night before.
"That was amazing," Harry finally said, tugging on his brother's hair so that he could steal a kiss. Harry could taste himself in Henry's mouth and smiled a little at the strange sensation. Another sensation came to his attention as he felt a hardness pressing against his stomach—the source being his brother. "You didn't…?" he asked, embarrassed.
Henry shook his head, blushing as well. "I held onto the barrier so that I could enjoy watching you come. Would you…?"
Harry smirked and pushed his brother over so that he was lying on his back. "I think I want to try that too."
Hen gasped at the first contact of Harry's tongue and lips on his cock, then lost himself in the glide of heat and wet slickness. It was good, not as good as he'd felt when doing it to Harry himself, but more than adequate to relieve the tension coiling in his stomach.
Harry enjoyed the messy wetness of his ministrations, glad that Hen seemed to be enjoying them, but he thought he preferred the full-body torture he'd put his brother through the night before. Giving him pleasure felt good, but simply having the hard cock in his mouth didn't seem adequate. Harry reached one hand up to fondle Henry's left nipple, and the other down to roll Hen's balls between his fingers, lightly squeezing and pulling on them in time to his sucks.
The sounds Hen was soon making made him feel better about this form of sex. And the taste of Henry's cum made it all worth it. Harry definitely preferred it direct from the source—spurting hot and sticky into his mouth.
-o-0-o-
They kissed languidly for long minutes after that, neither feeling particularly inclined to get up and make their way down for Saturday breakfast. None of their dorm mates attempted to pull apart the still-locked curtains, so either everyone else had the same idea of sleeping in, or they respected the idea too much to intrude.
Finally, though, their growling stomachs forced them to consider getting up.
"We should see if Slughorn is free to talk this afternoon anyway," Henry reminded Harry when his twin tried to convince him to call a house elf to bring them food.
Grimacing, Harry sat up and poked his head under the curtains at the end of the bed where their trunks were sitting open, clothes strewn about from the day before. He grabbed two pairs of pants from the mess and disappeared back inside. No one had been up and around in the dorm, but it would be distinctly awkward for any of their friends to notice they had slept nude together. Though the idea of Ron's red face would almost make it worth it.
"Here," he said, handing one pair to his brother. Harry pulled on his own pants and disentangled his discarded pajama bottoms from the bed covers, pulling those on as well.
Now somewhat decently attired, they lowered the wards around their bed and headed to the showers to get clean and change into their robes.
Henry had never realized before how tempting the sound of water being smoothed across skin could be, but restrained himself from joining Harry in the shower beside him.
When they finally made it downstairs and entered the kitchen to beg some food from the house elves, they were surprised to find Ron, Hermione, and Draco already sitting around a small table on the other side of the room.
"Threesomes never work out," Hermione was saying. "And I'm really not interested in a relationship right now. I'm only fourteen. Maybe in a couple of years, if you both still want me we…we could try." She turned bright red and stood from the table, preparing to leave, when she saw Harry and Henry standing in the doorway. She stopped short and turned, if possible, even redder, before stumbling out past the twins.
An awkward silence filled the room as Ron and Draco avoided each others' eyes as well as the twins'. House elves bustled around happily, oblivious to it all, until one noticed them standing in the doorway and squeaked happily as it asked what they wanted.
"Er…just something to eat that's easy to eat while walking," Harry said, thinking quickly.
"And some tea?" Henry asked hopefully.
"Right away!" The elf disappeared into the small army of elves and reappeared a moment later with two burrito-shaped things wrapped in wax paper and a hinge-corked glass decanter filled with warm tea. Two wooden cups with holes in the lips for strings to fit through were hanging from the hinge on the container.
"Thanks!" Henry said, taking one wrap and the tea while Harry took the other. "Er…see you around. Draco. Ron."
Both boys waved their hands noncommittally, and the twins beat a hasty retreat from the heavy atmosphere of the kitchens.
By common consent, they went outside to sit under their favorite tree beside the lake. Henry poured them both cups of tea while Harry opened the wax paper to see what the elves had given them. Inside was a thick, fluffy pancake rolled around several bangers and a scoop of scrambled eggs, sticky maple syrup over it all.
They ate in silence, sipping tea and licking sticky fingers as they soaked up the late morning sunlight as it stole over the castle. When the shadow of the castle covered their comfortable spot, making it too cold to sit outside anymore, they decided to head inside and pursue Horace Slughorn once more.
"Do you think we should bring the potion recipe with us?" Harry wondered out loud. They were slowly making their way up to the fourth floor, where Slughorn's rooms were. No cold dungeons would do for the fastidious man.
"Don't see why we should bother. We know what it does, and he obviously knows the ingredients by heart—he just wrote it down from memory when he gave it to us, remember?"
"True." Harry nodded. They had entered the fourth floor corridor now, and it looked like Filch had left while in the middle of cleaning up a spell spill. Bright splotches of red, orange, and yellow were still decorating the walls and floor. A half-full bucket of soapy water was sitting against the wall, a mop leaning beside it.
"Reckon Peeves interrupted him before he finished?" Henry asked with a smile.
"I reckon," Harry agreed. They passed the mess and continued on their way, hoping Slughorn would be in at that time of day.
A noise in the corridor behind them made the twins glance over their shoulders curiously. Henry frowned as he saw that the mop had fallen over, then shrugged. One of their robes must have brushed it when they passed.
"Where did you hide it anyway?" Harry asked as they moved on. Henry gave him a curious look. "The recipe, I mean."
Henry smirked slyly. "I gave it to Draco for safe-keeping. I'd like to see anyone get through the enchantments on a Malfoy's trunk."
They knocked on Slughorn's door and waited for a few moments before it was opened. Horace Slughorn gave them a nervous, suspicious look and did not offer to let them in.
Harry had almost forgotten that the last time they had been alone with the professor, they had broken into his quarters to blackmail him. Henry, thankfully, had remembered.
"This is just a social visit, Professor," he reassured the older Slytherin, "No tasks from Dumbledore, or threats, or anything."
Grimacing Slughorn seemed to waver, glancing at the Dark Marks on their faces before he stepped back from the doorway with a sigh and let them in.
The twins followed. Inside, they would have a conversation that would change their lives.
-o-0-o-
Marcus Flint was having a Very Bad Day. He had been wandering around under his gran's invisibility cloak—which was old and shoddy, barely able to keep him invisible for more than an hour at a time—when he finally found Slughorn just as he was entering a teacher's meeting with the rest of the professors. Thinking that he might learn something useful if he spied on them, Flint had decided to take his chances and follow the potions professor into the room. No sooner had he lodged himself into an out-of-the-way corner than the Headmaster had spoken, looking straight at him.
"Mr. Flint, I would suggest that you leave if you do not wish to lose copious points and receive detention until the end of the year when you will hopefully graduate and be taken off of our hands."
Of course, Flint had beat a hasty retreat, though no one but Dumbledore seemed to be able to see him.
The bloody man could see through invisibility cloaks! Granted, this one was threadbare at best, but still!
So he had spent the rest of the morning loitering around the hallway where Slughorn's rooms were, hoping to sneak inside his quarters and get his hands on the recipe when the man returned from the meeting.
Unfortunately, Flint's invisible presence earlier had obviously put the old Slytherin on his guard, for he made sure as he entered his rooms that no one—invisible or not—was following him.
He had almost given up. Not permanently, no. He valued his life too much to completely give up. No, he had been on his way back to the Great Hall to see if lunch was being served yet when the Potter twins came around the corner talking about a potion recipe. He was all set to ignore them until he heard that it was given to them by Slughorn. So he followed them and almost blew his cover when he knocked over a mop, though the boys seemed to shrug it off.
Upon hearing where their copy of the potion was hidden, he almost danced with glee and waited for Slughorn to invite them in before ripping off the cloak and making a beeline for the Slytherin dorms. Now here he was, kneeling in front of Draco Malfoy's trunk and trying to work his way through the protection spells that it was smothered in. It was made harder by the fact that he jumped and broke his concentration every time someone walked by in the hallway outside. There was no excuse for his current position.
Suddenly, he got a brilliant idea. Tapping his wand on the trunk, he was satisfied to see that it was fitted with a standard shrinking charm that reacted to any wand, not just the trunk's owner's. Picking up the now pocket-sized piece of luggage, he hurried out of the room, out of the castle, and then out of the wards all together. With a sharp pop, Marcus Flint disappeared.
-o-0-o-
"Would you like some of my excellent Peruvian coffee, boys?" Slughorn asked, proffering a carafe of dark liquid. "Algernon Longbottom, an old student of mine and an excellent herbologist, brought it back for me from his travels in South America."
The twins nodded and accepted cups of the fragrant brew, adding copious amounts of cream and sugar to cut the bitter taste.
After sipping from his own cup appreciatively, Slughorn spoke, looking down his nose at the twins with no little amount of chastisement in his eyes. "As much as I appreciate you referring to this as a social visit, boys, I can't help but think that you are here first and foremost because you need something from me."
They shifted uncomfortably before Harry spoke. "It's about the potion. Our friend Hermione—Hermione Granger—figured out the ingredients and brewed some so she could test it…"
"Oh my! Is she all right?" Slughorn asked, setting down his teacup and preparing to go straight to the rescue of one of his brightest pupils.
"Oh, yes, she's fine!" Henry hastened to assure him. "She tested it days ago, without us even knowing."
Harry nodded. "We've come back to you, because of what it does. When you drink it—like you and Hermione both said, it's like the Polyjuice potion—it makes your magic have the same signature as the person whose essence you drink. Apparently, it also requires you to have a compatible wand with that person's magic to perform any spells while it's still in effect."
Slughorn frowned, sitting back in his chair again with his cup cradled between large fingers. "That would have a very limited number of uses. Why on earth does the Dark Lord want it so badly…" he mumbled under his breath.
"That's what we want to know," Henry admitted. "We were hoping you might have some ideas. Ours are pretty elementary considering the person who so desperately wants it."
"Yes…" Slughorn murmured, still deep in thought.
The twins had nearly finished their cups of coffee when the Slytherin suddenly gasped, his face turning white. "You said it completely changes your signature to match that of the donor? So much so that you require a compatible wand?"
Harry nodded, confused.
"My boys, my boys," Slughorn gasped. "With such a thing, you could walk through wards keyed to only one person, so long as you have some of their essence in the potion. At a place like Hogwarts, or the Ministry, you would only need the essence of someone who is allowed in the building. Any of the children of death eaters here could provide such a thing, and I know there are many ministry employees who secretly serve He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."
The twins blanched. Voldemort was planning a complete takeover, and they had only this single thing to clue them in. The only questions were when, and how. They knew Voldemort didn't have the potion yet. They were still one step ahead.
"We have to tell Dumbledore!" Harry cried. "But he's left on another trip with no notification of when he'll return!"
"I will inform Minerva of our suspicions. She may have a way of contacting him." Slughorn stood and went to kneel in front of his fireplace. He threw in a handful of floo and called out "Minerva McGonagall!"
The twins curled further into their shared corner of the couch, wondering how on earth they could stop or prevent an attack from happening. It was so obvious now what Voldemort had been planning all along.
"Remember that vision we had earlier this year?" Henry asked quietly. "Voldemort gave all of the Death Eaters an assigned task, one kept secret from everyone but himself and Snape. There must be someone here who is trying to get their hands on the recipe, or on Professor Slughorn. We'll have to keep an eye on him to see who's been sniffing around."
Harry nodded, his mind still whirling with the possibilities and problems now facing them. One thing kept coming back to stare him in the face. "We're not ready, Hen. We don't even know who can kill him now. There's still two horcruxes left to find. There's you. What are we going to do if the worst happens and he wins this time?"
Slughorn had finished his fire call and overheard the things Harry said. "My boys, I would like to help you. I have many contacts all over the world. I know people who are the best at what they do. I would like to offer that entire network as my aid to you. You have both impressed me this year, despite the rocky start we had when you broke into my quarters. There are not many children who could be branded as you have been and still continue putting one foot in front of the other, much less strive for a better world as you have been. I commend you. And I offer you my services. Should Hogwarts or the Ministry, or both, happen to fall, I will be the first to come knocking on your door."
"Professor…" Henry breathed.
"Thank you," Harry said simply. "Amelia Bones may also be offering us her help in the near future. With the two of you, we might actually stand a chance."
Slughorn smiled. A true, honest smile. For the first time in many years, he felt he had found two gems that simply could not be allowed to escape his collection. He may strive first and foremost for self-preservation, but something told him that the safest place to be if war broke out was right beside the Potter twins.
-o-0-o-
For the second time in as many days, Marcus Flint knelt at the Dark Lord's feet and trembled with fear.
"Your quick return had better bode well, Flint," Voldemort hissed. "Well? Do you have it?"
"Yes, my lord," Flint said, shivering. "A copy of the potion that was procured by the Potter twins is in Draco Malfoy's trunk." He pulled the shrunken object from his pocket, hoping he wouldn't be cursed for what he was about to say. "I could not break the enchantments on it, but I thought…" He gulped, unable to voice an actual opinion in the Dark Lord's presence.
"Go on," Voldemort snapped, his patience wearing thin. "You thought…?"
"I t-thought, since Draco's father is a Death Eater and loyal to you, he might be able to open the trunk without any trouble."
Voldemort smiled and raised his wand in his right hand—the side of the throne on which Severus stood. His lover understood the gesture and pulled back the sleeve on his left arm, baring the Dark Mark so the Dark Lord could call Lucius Malfoy.
Severus gasped in pain as Voldemort's wand dug into his arm, sending the Mark writhing and burning on his skin. The Dark Lord reached out his other hand and stroked Severus' fingers, smiling with ill-concealed pleasure. It was so satisfying to elicit a response from the stoic man. Summoning another of his servants didn't have to hurt. He could even make it feel pleasurable. But the pain. The pain always made Severus give the best reactions. Voldemort always made sure when he used Severus' Mark that it hurt as much as possible. Sometimes, when he was calling the entire group of Death Eaters at once, he could even make it bleed.
The doors at the end of the hall opened, admitting the cool, poised figure of Lucius Malfoy. Voldemort released his call on the Mark reluctantly, making Severus sag to his knees with a choked sob and causing Lucius to give an almost imperceptible twitch.
"Luciussss…" Voldemort hissed. The proud man immediately fell to one knee and bowed to the man he called master. The Dark Lord sneered at the display. A pureblood, kneeling to a halfblood, if he but knew it. "Lucius, young Flint here has brought me Draco's school trunk. There is something in it that I require. Open it."
"Yes, my lord." Lucius stood and approached Flint, taking the still-shrunk trunk from him and placing it on the ground. Two taps of his wand and it first expanded and then popped open as though on a spring.
"Very good. Accio potion recipe," Voldemort whispered, too quietly for anyone but Severus to hear him. A small scroll came flying out of the trunk. He handed it his lover in an offhand manner. "To think, Lucius, that your traitorous son had something I required all this time, yet because of his betrayal could not simply give it to me."
"I apologize, my lord. He will pay for his transgressions when I see him next."
"Yesss…he will," Voldemort said slowly. "Flint, take the trunk and replace it where it was found. You are dismissed." He waited until Flint had scurried out of the room with the trunk before speaking again. "I believe that he should be killed, Lucius. He is too far gone—there is no hope for redemption."
Lucius winced, while Severus stiffened beside him. Father and godfather of the Malfoy whelp—so protective…but how obedient to him?
"You will kill him, Lucius. I will let you know when the time comes."
"Y-yes, my lord."
Voldemort waves his hand indolently. "Be gone."
As soon as he was gone, Severus spoke. "My lord, Draco is just a boy, you can't hold him to account…"
"Crucio!" The delightful screams of his lover echoed around the room. Voldemort kept the spell on a tad too long and tutted to see the streams of blood leaking from Severus' eyes, nose, and mouth.
"T-Tom…" Severus whispered.
"Best get yourself looked at, love," Voldemort said gently, leaning down the pat the younger man's cheek.
He walked from the room without a backward glance.
-o-0-o-
Draco returned to his dormitory before lunch to change his shirt. One of the Gryffindors had managed to stain one of his cuffs. It certainly wasn't his fault there was jam there!
He entered the room and walked to his bed out of habit, only to stop and stare in shock and horror.
Running out into the common room, he screeched, "WHERE'S MY TRUNK!"
Several students who knew his fastidious habits snickered, while his dorm mates outright laughed. Suspecting a prank at his expense, he drew his wand and prepared to hex the culprit into their seventh year.
Harry and Henry came through the sliding wall at that moment and quickly heard the whole story.
"Are you sure it isn't just hidden in the dorm somewhere?" Harry asked reasonably, trying to calm down both Hen and Draco, who were being the suspicious Slytherins that they were.
They all went back up to the dorm and there, sitting at the end of Draco's bed as though it had never left, was the trunk.
"You see?" Harry said, trying not to laugh. "Maybe you just hallucinated that it had gone because of the horror of having jam on your cuff."
Draco just glared at him and rummaged through the things in his trunk to find a clean shirt.
"I'll be in the library if anyone needs me," he sniffed haughtily after he had changed.
The twins managed to wait until he left before howling with laughter. Unfortunately, their blond friend still heard them and swore revenge on anyone who had laughed at his predicament.
-o-0-o-
A/N: Am I an evil authoress? Tell me I am. Pretty please? I'll give you cookies…