Matou Shinji and the Heirs of Slytherin
A Harry Potter / Fate Stay Night Story
Disclaimer: Though I wish it were otherwise, I do not own or in any way, shape or form hold a legal or moral claim to elements of either the Nasuverse, the Potterverse, or other works I may reference in the course of this story.
Summary: Trouble is brewing in the Wizarding World. In the wake of the Stone Incident, Albus Dumbledore has begun quietly preparing Britain to survive the coming war. The Stone Cutters, a new organization at Hogwarts for the most talented and distinguished of students, seek new blood to bolster its strength. The Boy-Who-Lived seeks his destiny as the Heir of Slytherin. And a boy from the east meets a specter of the past.
Chapter 5. Festival of Fools
Severus Snape had never enjoyed parties much, or even the idea of small talk, if one was to be honest. He disdained two things – idiocy and alcohol – and unfortunately, the latter tended to induce the former in otherwise…passable individuals. Under the influence of firewhiskey, sake, or any number of demonic brews, ordinarily pleasant people would be transformed into headache-causing dunderheads who respected little in the way of personal space, and ran the gamut from being emotionally volatile and quick to anger, or overly affectionate.
The Potions Master of the Russian School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was an example of the former, going red as he boasted of his students' prowess and the rigorous training they went through – while of course, taking great offense at any reminder that Koldovstoretz had not won the Championship in a number of years. The half-Japanese Potions Mistress from the Brazilian school hit the other extreme, as the admittedly attractive woman seemed to have taken an interest in the dour Severus Snape, being far too free with her hands as she insisted rather suggestively that what he needed was to relax and enjoy himself – that he was far too pent up, as it were.
Being a rather reserved Englishman, the…directness of his fellow potioneers disturbed him, since his culture was not one that valued frankness or emotionality. Rather, the English valued self-control and restraint, with his colleagues' excesses reminding him of his father, the perpetually drunk – and rather abusive – Tobias Snape – the man who was the very reason he despised Muggles.
He, like Harry, had seen the magical world as an escape from the cruel world where he'd grown up, and had learned from an early age that the weak would be crushed by the strong. That was why he threw himself into the study of the Dark Arts and had joined Slytherin House – because he wanted to become powerful enough that no one would dare to pick on him again, be it his father, his fellow students in Slytherin, or those blasted Gryffindors and bullies James Potter and Sirius Black. Most of them were wealthy, with everything in life given to them on a silver platter, and they dared to judge him for his ambition, for his desire to earn a position through the sweat of his brow.
That was one of the things Lily had unfortunately never understood. Though she had possessed great intelligence, her sheltered upbringing with a loving family meant that the very idea of desperation, of needing to win recognition – or that one could be bullied for it – was foreign to her. She – accepted by so many – did not understand how bitter life was for someone who was accepted by so few, when the very people she spent time with – Gryffindors – made his life a living hell, with Sirius Black even trying to kill him on one occasion.
So she hated the fact that he spent time with the Slytherin pure-bloods, not understanding why he sought to integrate himself with the oldest families of wizardkind. She hated their supremacist views, hated their study of the Dark Arts, hated the fact that he had no patience for Muggles or Muggleborn – except her. She didn't understand how Hogwarts was a sanctuary from the outside world, and how the people of her house – how Gryffindors – ruined it for him, made it their life's work to hate and divide and torment as if the abuse he had gotten wasn't enough.
In Slytherin, there was at least recognition of one's standing and equivalent exchange of favors. In Gryffindor, there was no official recognition of such, but everyone knew wealthy arses like James Potter ruled the roost anyway, something which was made abundantly clear from how little punishment Potter and his gang received for their persecution of Slytherins like him. Indeed, even Black – who had tried to kill him – had not been expelled, or punished, with his co-conspirator James Potter being rewarded for saving his life.
…which absolutely disgusted Severus, as why should James Potter be rewarded – why should he owe the prat a life debt – because he finally realized the probable consequences of their actions?
That was the day when Severus Snape learned that only strength mattered. That the rich and powerful – Potter, Dumbledore, Voldemort, Malfoy – could do whatever they wanted, while the poor, the downtrodden – like him – were at their mercy entirely.
That was the day he resolved to join the Dark Lord and become a Death Eater, because learning the way of the world, Severus Snape wished to become strong, to crush those who had hurt him, to take everything from them as they had from him. Why, James Potter and the Gryffindors had even taken away his oldest, dearest friend, filling her head with hate, so that his one slip in calling her a mudblood after Potter had humiliated him was not seen as a slip in the heat of anger – but as a sign of what he truly felt.
Those fools had poisoned her mind, turned her against him, and so he swore vengeance. For the constant humiliation, the torment, the theft of everything he had loved, he would see James Potter and his ilk crushed beneath his feet, made to beg for mercy when the new order rose at last.
On that day, as James Potter and the Marauders begged for mercy, pleading with Severus Snape to help them, the potions master would simply smile, before showing them as much mercy as they had shown him.
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth - was that not justice?
And the Dark Lord had lived up to his promise of power, crushing what resistance Magical Britain had to offer with a much smaller force, destroying all those who dared to oppose him. Aurors, Unspeakables, Hit Wizards and more fell under their onslaught; even Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix could do little enough before Voldemort's might. The forces of reaction were cautious, afraid, unwilling to do what was necessary – largely because that was the example the Leader of the Light set for those around him.
Dumbledore urging the use of Stunning Spells against the Killing Curse, in the misguided belief that those who followed the Dark Lord could be redeemed – or needed redemption.
Dumbledore refusing to confront the Dark Lord himself, simply hiding at Hogwarts while he sent his minions to their deaths, without even the courtesy of acknowledging that to him, they were simply pawns and no more.
Dumbledore, the arch-Gryffindor, who kept the Ministry tangled up in its bureaucracy and refused to call on other nations for aid, as those others would have no qualms about meeting force with force.
If one were being honest, it was not Dumbledore who had given Britain a fighting chance in the war against Voldemort, but Bartemius Crouch Sr, the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, who authorized Aurors to use the Unforgiveable Curses on their opponents, and was as brutal and ruthless as any Death Eater.
…but it was Dumbledore who Snape turned to in the end when everything went wrong, because he thought the man would do what he could to protect Lily after learning of the prophecy. Though he'd also begged the Dark Lord to spare Lily if at all possible – something that Voldemort had agreed to; the Dark Lord might have been a monster, but he was not unreasonable, after all.
So Severus Snape had every hope that his oldest friend might survive, given the vouchsafes he'd been given by both Dumbledore and the Dark Lord – until the day she died and the War ended, with Snape forced to throw himself on Dumbledore's mercy because he had no other alternatives.
Because once again, he was weak.
Even now, years later, he sometimes wondered if Dumbledore truly had done everything he could to protect Lily. Why hadn't Dumbledore been the Secret Keeper for the Fidelius Charm used to protect them, instead of the treacherous Sirius Black – who even Snape knew was a murderer in the making, like the rest of his family? For that matter, since the Potters wanted to keep the secret to within their group of friends, why hadn't Lily or James been the Secret Keepers? Or if Hogwarts had been safe from attack during the entirety of the war, why not give them accommodations in the Castle?
It really made no sense.
And that was one of the reasons that Severus Snape did not drink…well, did not drink much. He had trained himself to show reserve, to hide away emotion, feeling, and any other point of vulnerability – even from himself. For the best lies were those one believed to be true – though alcohol had a way of stripping away such things as inhibitions and self-delusions, so that one could not lie to oneself. Such was why old Germanic tribes had once signed treaties while under the influence, as there was truth to the axiom that in vino veritas (literally "in wine, there is truth").
Even his fellow Potions Masters were not exempt from it, showing bits of their true selves, though where they became more boisterous, seductive, or quick to anger, he just became more and more withdrawn.
Especially after a week-long conference which had talked about any number of things, from the state of potions education internationally to the method by which a champion might be appointed for the Wizarding Schools Potions Championship, arranging for an inspection of the enchanted isle where the competition was held, ensuring that the field was up to historical standards, and discussions as to the number of entrants allowed.
Historically, there had been three or four competitors at a time, given how rare it was to find qualified champions, but given that this would be the last Championship before the new millennium, the one thing the assembled Potioneers could agree on was that they wanted to put on a show.
Of all the branches of magic, theirs was the most often overlooked, precisely because it did not involve much wandwork, but rather was a mix of one's magic at a very low level and the magical essences of the ingredients one used. And because it wasn't flashy, most students chose to concentrate on Charms or Transfiguration – a complaint that teachers of Herbology, the subject most closely related to Potions, would have agreed on.
So there had been talk of apprenticeships, per-school preliminaries and grooming of chosen competitors to ensure that Potions would be in the public eye.
And then had come the closing gala, as big and ostentatious as the opening ceremony, with the Committee sparing no expense to throw a lavish celebration, with fancy foods from each region of the world, drinks of all varieties, and a raft of entertainments, from dance troupes, to string quartets, to fortunetelling and more.
It was all a little overwhelming, and after less than an hour of the…sensory experience, Severus Snape had had enough, stalking towards the exit, with his minder, Aozaki Touko, in tow. He supposed that he had not found her company…disagreeable, as she at least provided intelligent conversation, witty commentary, and insights as to what his colleagues might be thinking.
And he supposed she was not…unpleasant to look upon either, as gracefully as she moved in her svelte black evening gown, gliding across the floor to join him at the door.
"Leaving already, Professor?" she asked distantly, her dull red eyes looking at him through her glasses.
"Memento shopping," Snape replied dryly.
"Then you will require assistance."
"If you wish it."
"Well, far be it for me to shirk my duties," the woman said with a hint of a smile, as she fell into step beside the Potions Master.
"Hm."
After all, members of the staff of Mahoutokoro had been assigned to escort the visiting dignitary about the city to make sure they didn't get into too much trouble, and to be frank, as a magus, she had little affection for large parties herself, preferring the solitude of her workshop – or in some cases – the company of one or two others if they were amusing, or at least somewhat interesting.
And she found she did not mind the reserved nature – or the acerbic wit – of Severus Snape, so she led him to shops she thought he might find interesting, based on the people he was buying gifts for.
A nursery, where he obtained two just-sprouted bulbs of Witch's ganglion, an aquatic plant endemic to the Far East, whose properties were largely unknown. Pomona Sprout would, of course, love the chance to learn about a new plant – and Snape would have a source for samples and cuttings for his potions research.
While he had toyed with the idea of writing an improved textbook to preserve his superior knowledge of his chosen Craft, talking to Aozaki Touko had made him really think about what he wanted his legacy to be. Being honest, he'd never really thought about it, since his considerations for the future had all but vanished when Lily died.
If she hadn't had a son – Harry – he might have taken his own life in grief. He almost still had, given that the boy and the prophecy were the reason the Dark Lord came after her family. It hurt still to look at the so-called "Heir of Slytherin", but more and more, he could see himself in the boy, and that startled him.
It made him remember what he had wanted once: to be remembered, to be known, to be recognized, despite the fact that in many ways he was awkward and not very good with people if he didn't have the comfort of a role to hide behind. And if the Potter boy was charting his own path, then couldn't Snape?
Their next stop was a tea shop, where he purchased a tea set for Filius Flitwick, knowing the man enjoyed wares from around the world, and an assortment of Japanese sweets for Albus Dumbledore, as all knew that the headmaster had quite the sweet tooth.
And of course, they stopped at a premium sake store to pick up a bottle for Minerva McGonagall. Severus didn't actually know what she wanted, but figured that since she was Scottish and had once given him a bottle of single malt scotch, she would probably appreciate a quality liquor from another land.
Outside, he paused as his eyes caught sight of a flash of red…
"…a spider lily…?"
He swallowed. It was about that time of the year when those bloomed, and they always reminded him of…well…Lily.
"Lycoris radiata," Touko intoned beside him, as she took note of the flower. "Higanbana. A flower meaning loss, longing, and poignant memories. Like those which afflict you, Severus."
Snape was perfectly still for a moment as the past washed over him again, thinking about a redhead he had introduced to the wizarding world long ago, as this redhead was showing him around a part of the world where he'd never been.
"I see," he replied.
They went into the store that sold the unusual flowers, with the Potions Master buying one small pot of them. He knew where he wanted to plant these, and it wasn't the greenhouses. He thought perhaps she might appreciate the gesture though.
Lily…
"If you have nothing else to purchase, perhaps you would like to come up to my apartment for tea?"
"Hm."
"It is rather quieter than the city proper."
"How…charming."
But the Professor did not move away as Aozaki Touko guided him towards their mutual destination.
Back in Fuyuki, Matou Shinji was giving his friend, the Boy-Who-Lived, a tour of the small city. To be honest, he'd wanted to show Harry the wonders of Kyoto, since the city of Ten Thousand Shrines was a marvel in and of itself, but Harry had wanted to see the place where Shinji had grown up, and faced with that insistence, he couldn't very well say no.
Besides, Harry had told him about some of the things he'd learned from Tomas on the train – his heritage through the Peverells, information about artifacts called the Deathly Hallows, and how with them, one might become Master of Death.
A wand more powerful than any in existence.
A stone which could bring back the shades of the dead.
A cloak, whose power endured when all others failed.
…and more, they weren't really lost. Well, the wand and cloak weren't, and Tomas having owned the Stone in life, perhaps he knew how to find it. For to him, that was the most tempting of all three relics. The power of the Wand owned by Dumbledore was one thing, but its wielder was mortal still. The concealment effect of the cloak, which Harry had, could be circumvented – he'd seen how invisibility was not perfect, learned how it could be defeated from Hillard – and during the ill-fated attempt on the Philosopher's Stone.
But those didn't really interest him. The one what did was the Resurrection Stone – the Hallow which, coupled with the true abilities of the Philosopher's Stone, was easily the most powerful of the three.
For the others could make a practitioner of witchcraft powerful or hide one from sight, whereas the Stone's power over the souls of the inhuman Wizardkin could shake the very foundations of the Wizarding World.
Just as the (re)introduction of the Philosopher's Stone to Atlas had already done in the Moonlit World.
But the one stop of any tour had to be the home of the Second Owner, as such was the way of things, to be followed unless one had a good reason not to.
Which he didn't.
"The kids of the neighborhood say a Witch owns this house," Shinji related, as he walked with Shinji to the Tohsaka home. "It's an old house, over a hundred years old, and is the only house in Fuyuki with brick walls."
"Huh." Harry looked over the structure. "…it doesn't look magical."
"It shouldn't," Shinji grunted, dressed in his finery again. "But it feels different. Most people don't feel welcome around it."
Harry recalled the Leaky Cauldron, as well as the tree that served as the entrance to Mahoutokoro, noting that unless one knew what they were, they'd seem uninviting too. And he wondered why. Hagrid had told him that wizards hid from Muggles because otherwise everyone would want magic solutions to their problems, but the Boy-Who-Lived was beginning to think that wasn't the case.
Magic caused as many problems as it offered solutions, so what was the real reason? Harry didn't know, but hiding to prevent annoyance didn't seem quite right.
Lost in his thoughts, he missed the front door opening, with a pretty girl in a school uniform about his age stepping out and walking over to the gate.
Tohsaka Rin – the Second Owner.
She seemed surprised to see Shinji, though she opened the gate readily enough, her eyes widening as if his friend was something special. She glanced over at Harry, but it was obvious that she had no idea who he was, something that Harry found refreshing, even as she asked something in Japanese which he couldn't understand.
"Yu spek English?" she tried then, with Shinji stepping in, saying something in Japanese, before switching back to English.
"Harry Potter, may I introduce to you the Second Owner of Fuyuki, Tohsaka Rin, the young heiress of the House of Tohsaka. Her family historically had rights to this land."
Ah. Nobility.
Harry bowed low, wanting to give a good impression.
"It is an honor to meet you," he said, looking every inch a young noble lad himself in the new finery Snape had bought him for his birthday.
"Tohsaka," Shinji said, switching back to Japanese. "This is my good friend and classmate Harry Potter, practitioner of Witchcraft, scion of the houses of Peverell and Slytherin."
…well, it wasn't as if Harry was going to correct him since he didn't know the language, and frankly, it was close enough to the truth, since the Boy-who-Lived did own a Hallow passed down through the Peverell lineage, and was called Heir of Slytherin.
"Ah. Shinji's friend, Har-i Potter," Rin managed, matching the bow with a curtsey, noble to noble. "Wel-come to Fuyuki."
Her English wasn't the best, but then, she rarely had occasion to use it, as her guardian Kotomine Kirei actually handled most of the monies and international business. Unlike Shinji, she'd never studied abroad. She'd spent most of her life in Fuyuki, which though a potent spiritual land second only to the region administered by the Aozaki family, was more than a bit of a backwater.
Which made her envy him at least a little, for while Matou was off in the world having grand adventures, making powerful friends – as this boy probably was, politically, and accomplishing martial feats worthy of induction into a chivalric order, she was stuck here, bound by her role.
"As Second Owner, I ask you to show hospitality to my friend," Shinji requested formally – in Japanese, before repeating himself in English for Harry's benefit. "He has recently come from London, and wanted to see our city."
"Ah," Rin replied eloquently.
"We even brought a gift for you," the Matou scion said with a pleasant enough smile, looking over to Harry and repeating himself.
For the first time, the boy who lived was seeing how inconvenient language barriers could be. Yes, there was some of that at Mahoutokoro, but most of the shopkeepers knew a few different tongues, and both Tomas and Aozaki were fluent in English.
But this place was clearly not used to foreigners, and even the Second Owner of the land struggled with her English. Obviously, he'd have to learn more languages in time, especially if he wanted to go somewhere besides Britain.
Harry, taking his cue, withdrew the blood red box he'd obtained from the shop and offered it to the Tohsaka heiress with both hands, as Shinji had coached him.
She opened it, with the clockwork avian activating with a soft whirr and hoot, hopping onto her arm and fastening on with sharp claws that nearly bit through the fabric of her clothing.
"Owner?" it hooted, once.
"Yes," Shinji said. "She is your new owner."
The silver and red mechanical masterpiece blurred then, pressing its beak to a now visible line of red on the back of her hand. The gems that made up its eyes flickered several times, before settling into a steady amber glow, with Rin suddenly feeling the clockwork creature's presence, knowing she could order about with her mind.
"…my thanks," she said, not knowing what the nature of this gift was. It was obviously expensive – a high quality item like this could hardly be otherwise – but she didn't know what else it was capable of yet. Was this a courtesy gift – or perhaps a courting gift? It was hard to tell, and she didn't think she would be understood if she asked directly.
"Tohsaka, if you could spare some time, help me show Harry around Fuyuki," Shinji requested. "Perhaps you could join us for the Festival tonight?"
The late Tanabata festival, celebrated in Fuyuki on first week of August, instead of in July as was the case in some other cities.
Rin flushed as Shinji's invitation registered in her mind.
Was…was he asking her on a date? No, of course he wasn't. His friend would be best served with an expert guide after all. But…that was an excuse, right? Surely Shinji would know the town just as well…
"I…"
"It will be fun. Besides, a festival is better with good company, and even the Second Owner needs to have fun sometimes," Shinji said with a roguish smile, and Rin took a deep breath. She'd actually never been to a festival herself…her magus training hadn't allowed it. This…social situation where she'd actually have to go to something instead of casually windowshopping or such was foreign to her.
"I…yes."
Of course, it would be somewhat gauche to appear at a festival in street wear, so after promising to meet Tohsaka in the early evening, and subsequently giving Harry a tour of Fuyuki, he led the Boy-Who-Lived to his house, where Harry could borrow a yukata.
True, a foreigner would stand out no matter what, but twas better that Harry seemed a cultured foreigner instead of someone bumbling about – no matter the truth of the matter.
Fortunately, he still had a key, so it was a simple matter to open the door to the Matou mansion – whereupon the two found themselves face to face with a purple-haired girl with dull purple eyes.
"Sokaris…" Harry whispered, the purple hair bringing back painful memories, before the features registered as being decidedly not those of his late friend.
But the girl's expression remained blank, though from the way Shinji stiffened uncomfortably and spoke to her in Japanese, with the girl responding with few words, he could tell they knew each other.
"Harry…this is Sakura," Shinji said, not entirely comfortably. "My sister."
Harry blinked, looking back and forth between his friend and the girl in front of them – and not seeing much of a resemblance. In fact, purple hair aside, she looked more like the Second Owner…
"Adopted," Shinji added, his lips twisting into a frown as he did not want to say more.
"Pleased to meet you," Harry said to the girl, bowing slightly. "I'm Harry Potter, Shinji's friend from Hogwarts."
Shinji translated, since Sakura didn't speak any English as of yet, though he added that Harry was a practitioner of Witchcraft.
Sakura nodded at this and in her turn, curtseyed shallowly, expression and eyes still blank.
"Is grandfather in?" Shinji asked in Japanese, to which the girl shook her head. Good…that's one thing I don't have to worry about. "We are just going to my room to change into yukatas for the festival tonight."
Sakura nodded and stepped aside.
"Come on, let's get changed – we shouldn't keep Tohsaka waiting," Shinji said to Harry, though the Boy-Who-Lived noticed how the purple-haired girl's frame stiffened at the name of Tohsaka.
"Will…Sakura be coming to the festival too?" Harry asked, thinking it would be a pity if Shinji's sister were left alone while her brother and someone who was probably a friend of hers were out showing him around the city. Besides, she probably hadn't seen Shinji in months, and he didn't want to deprive them of time together as siblings.
He had no true family – only people related to him by blood who despised everything he represented. Shinji, he thought, was fortunate beyond measure.
The Ravenclaw seemed to consider this for a long – almost awkward moment, before he nodded, telling Sakura to get changed as well, with the girl's eyes widening, and a soft "H-hai" escaping her lips.
As he led Harry to his room, Shinji just knew he was going to regret this somehow.
The resulting evening, with Harry Potter, Matou Shinji, Tohsaka Rin, and Matou Sakura all going to the Fuyuki festival, was indeed somewhat awkward, though Harry was rather taken by how lovely the two girls looked in their yukatas of red and pink, respectively, and complimented them so. That, and he just enjoyed the festival atmosphere, with Shinji showing him the various games played during this time of year, and delicious foods like Taiyaki and Yakisoba.
He was actually impressed by how his friend was quite the gentleman, always buying enough for the Second Owner and his sister as well, though he did wonder how much of this really was for his benefit – and how much was because Shinji wanted to get on the Second Owner's good side.
…and he wondered how Sokaris would have liked something like this, and if minded how he was happy, since he had failed so badly.
'Which is why I have to save everyone…too many have already died for me…'
For the two who were truly sisters in blood, the evening gave them a chance to talk, as Shinji was busy playing host to his friend, with Rin helping out a little bit here and there – but not too much. It made Rin wonder what Shinji's motives were for arranging this, as it couldn't be as simple as having her do her duty – since she didn't know much about festivals or such – she assumed he had arranged this as a gesture of goodwill and was…oddly grateful to the boy. He was interested in her, she knew, given the extravagant gifts he'd given her – was this his way of showing he cared?
…that was an odd feeling, thinking that anyone cared, because she knew damn well that Kotomine did not.
Sakura as well wondered why Shinji had let her talk to her true sister, why he was being so nice to her, when she was just a broken girl who had taken his position. Even his friend Harry was being nice to her, giving her a small stuffed fox that he won.
(Shinji, of course, gave the snowy owl plush toy he'd won to Rin.)
Still, Sakura enjoyed the first festival she had, with Shinji doing his part to show both her and her sister around – and at some point – just her sister showing her around. For that night – that one night – some of the distance eased, as they enjoyed a festival under the stars and fireworks, taking in the sights and sounds and smells.
Though of course, not everyone enjoyed the festival.
Emiya Kiritsugu was one such. He'd gone with his adopted son, as he thought it was probably the last time he'd be able to. The former Magus Killer felt himself getting weaker by the day as the curse of the Grail continued to advance, and he knew soon he would die.
At least he'd managed to give Shirou some training, and set up bombs to disrupt the leylines to the Great Grail, so as to prevent it from gathering enough energy to summon the Seven Servants and begin the next cycle over fifty five years from now.
…but the sight of four young people enjoying themselves together unnerved him, made him question his assumptions.
For if the Tohsaka heiress, the Matou boy, a foreigner, and the young Matou heiress were together in public, did that mean that the old non-interference pact between their houses was dissolving, that a marriage alliance was being considered, with a foreigner brought in to strengthen the Matou line, as he had been brought in to benefit the Einzbern?
Yes, the foreigner was young, but…child soldiers certainly existed, even among magi – Hisau Maiya had been one example of such he'd known well.
Still…why was this happening now?
The Grail War wouldn't happen for decades yet – if it would at all – since it had only been five years since the last…unless there was there something they knew about the Grail that he did not. They were two of the Three founding families, after all.
Could it be that one of them already had Command Seals?
His hand tightened on Shirou's shoulder as he closed his eyes, feeling the urge to smoke more than ever.
If his suspicions were true…this could spell disaster.