Disclaimer: Usually I write out a very specific disclaimer explaining exactly what it is I don't own but I find myself not really interested in doing so this time as it is very tedious. Suffice it to say I own nothing that was created by anyone else and I am not making any money off of this story or any of the other stories I have written.
Warnings: Mild to moderate violence, character death, foul language, brief mentions of implied rape (no descriptions), alternate universe (i.e. kiss canon goodbye), angst, drama, Dumbledore and Snape bashing, implied bashing of select Weasleys (no specifics mentioned), OOC moments, and who knows what else.
AN: This story is self-beta'd; so there may be occasional grammatical or spelling errors that crop up every now and then and for those I apologize in advance.
Chapter 1: The Boy on the Beach
As he waited for the sun to rise, Harry stood on the small outcrop of rocks that jutted out into the ocean just a hop, skip, and a jump away from the cave where he'd made his home. Approximately one year and ten months had passed since Harry had woken up and found himself stranded on an empty beach in the middle of the night. It had taken him nearly two weeks to finally realize that the whole thing hadn't been a potion induced nightmare or an elaborate prank created by the Weasley twins.
Part of the delay in accepting his new circumstances had come from the splitting headaches that had constantly plagued him for the first week while the rest of it was the combination of his reduced stature and the inexplicable return of hundreds of long forgotten memories; many of which he'd rather have forgotten completely. About the same time he finally accepted he was no longer at Hogwarts (and that he hadn't been pranked), he found his wand, a letter, and the box that Sirius had magically attached to the useless, oversized sling. Once he'd freed all three items (it had taken him a full day to remember Sirius's final parting words about the map's password), he'd immediately read the letter that Sirius had left him.
That letter explained a bit about how and why Harry had ended up on the beach (and confirmed that he wasn't being pranked); though it said nothing about how or why he'd been shrunk to the size of a seven year old. It also hadn't given him any idea of where he'd ended up as Sirius had apparently had no way of fixing a specific destination on the device he'd used to send Harry across time and space into a completely different dimension. Once Harry was clear-headed enough to use his brain, he'd spent a day or two trying to decide what he should do and where he should go.
Experiences from Harry's first childhood, under the less than caring hands of his not-quite-abusive-but-far-from-loving relatives and certain individuals within Hogwarts, had taught him not to trust adults and prevented him from seeking help from the potential inhabitants of this world. Instead, he'd searched along the beach for an abandoned cabin or something to shelter in and quickly discovered that he was trapped on an uninhabited and undeveloped island with no way to reach the mainland because while he could see the shore it was too far for him to swim.
Not surprising when one considered the fact that he didn't really know how to swim and his current body lacked the strength of his former body. Even with the help of the gillyweed he'd found in his stores, it would have been impossible for him to swim that far due to a combination of the considerable distance and the water currents.
He had eventually found a small series of interconnected caves that had been carved from the side of a cliff by the tide hundreds of years earlier and made himself as comfortable as he could. If not for the supplies that Sirius had sent with him, Harry probably would have been forced to find a way across to the mainland regardless of how he felt about finding other people. Thankfully, his godfather had thought ahead and provided Harry with everything he would need to survive for at least three years on his own; longer if he was extra careful with his rations.
And he was careful.
It was habit really. His aunt and uncle had been rather stingy when it came to his meal rations and he had dared not even think about hording food since his aunt used to spring surprise inspections on him just to ensure that he wasn't filching things he was not allowed to have. As a result, he'd learned how to survive on very little food. That was a habit that had carried over to Hogwarts even though there'd been far more food available to him, though he did eat more on average during his time at Hogwarts than he did at the Dursleys.
It was that habit of eating the bare minimum combined with his excess magic that had allowed him to survive those first two weeks without food or water. The fact that he had been emotionally distraught had further reduced his appetite at the time and he hadn't even noticed the slight hunger pains from a lack of food. Even after he'd found the supplies Sirius had sent with him, he hadn't had much of an appetite and barely even touched any of the food. It had been weeks before he ate more than a few bites here and there.
The reason for that was because it had been rather difficult for Harry to find a reason to live due to everything he now remembered and had learned from his godfather. Even now (nearly two years later), he still had frequent nightmares about Voldemort's rebirth, Cedric's murder, and hundreds of other terrible things he'd witnessed and experienced during his four years at Hogwarts.
If not for Sirius anticipating that Harry would have difficulty in accepting a number of the terrible things that had been done to him over the years, he probably would have been driven insane by his memories and nightmares or tried to commit suicide in order to escape his dark past. As it was, Sirius did anticipate Harry's psychological troubles and provided his godson with both words of comfort and encouragement (brief though they were) and plenty of distractions in order to help Harry pull through the dark days.
Over time, Harry had gone from suicidal to apathetic to resigned and eventually settled for eking out a pitiful existence on his deserted island. He even managed to distract himself from his darker thoughts from time to time using the books and other things that Sirius had packed for him. That didn't mean he was happy or satisfied with his lot in life though.
Glancing up, Harry saw what he thought was a shooting star streaking across the pre-dawn sky and on a childish whim made a wish, "I wish my life had purpose; I'm tired of just existing."
Harry snorted after a moment when he realized what he'd wished for; his cynical side admonishing him for being so childish. Shaking his head, he pushed away his fatalistic thoughts and focused once more on the stars in the sky that were fading little by little as the sun crept over the horizon. After several minutes, his eyes were drawn to the south as several large explosions tore across the sky and he frowned as he tried to think of what could have possibly caused them.
He was caught completely off guard less than ten minutes later when he saw what looked like two huge robots locked in an embrace plunge into the ocean not more than thirty miles from where he was standing on the rocky outcrop. Startled by the strange sight, Harry was completely unprepared for the large wave created by the crashing machines that washed up and over the rocks where he had been standing and found himself swept away just moments later. Silently cursing his inattention, Harry braced himself as the force of the water dragged his body over the ragged rocks that made up the water break; the sharp edges of the rocks scraping off a large amount of skin and muscle tissue on his back, side, and leg.
The pain was far worse than he originally expected though and as he opened his mouth to scream he immediately began choking on the sea water that rushed in to fill his lungs. Letting his body go limp, he allowed the wave of water to carry him back to the beach in the hopes that he might survive his own stupidity. The sting of sand scraping across his injured back, side, and leg brought forth another strangled scream and at the same time allowed Harry to cough up the water he'd inhaled the first time he had screamed when his body was shoved haphazardly across the beach before the water withdrew.
"I wished for a purpose, not pain," Harry barked out petulantly as he glared up at the heavens. Gasping and coughing up even more water, Harry rolled over onto his stomach and wearily got up on his knees. After a few minutes, he felt the pain recede enough to climb up onto his feet and he carefully spun around so he could search for some sign of the strange robots he'd seen fall out of the sky as he muttered, "What in the name of Merlin's grubby undershorts were those things anyway?"
Shaking his head, Harry turned away from the sea and limped off towards his home; he needed to see how badly he'd injured himself this time. The first thing he did once he reached the cave, was take a warm shower in the bathroom he'd built inside of his cave using runes and magic (something that Harry had taught himself over the past twenty-two months using the books that Sirius had sent with him). Once he was finished cleaning out his injuries, a glimpse in the mirror hanging on the wall in his bedroom had Harry wincing as he took in the amount of damage he'd taken.
The skin and quite a bit of underlying tissue had been scraped off his back from his left shoulder all the way down to his right hip in addition to the scrapes along his right side from the middle of his right thigh up to his right arm pit. They weren't very deep wounds but they were painful and wept a constant stream of blood that made them look far worse than they actually were. The deep bruises that were forming around and beneath the wounds didn't help make the injuries look any better either.
"That's going to take days to heal," Harry predicted with a hiss; knowing that even his innate ability to heal faster than the average human couldn't grow back that much skin and muscle overnight. "Better dig out a few rolls of gauze and see if I can't get the bleeding to stop at least. Damn, wish I'd spent more time learning a few healing charms instead of focusing on household charms, protective wards, and basic runes."
It took him close to an hour to treat and bandage his wounds, taking the time to coat the side of the bandages that would lay against his injuries with a thick healing paste that would numb the pain as he slowly wrapped his entire torso and upper half of his right leg. The cream stung and burned as it first came into contact with the open wounds but after a few minutes blessed numbness began setting in and Harry sighed as the last of his pain faded slowly into nothing. He'd have some difficulty moving about over the next couple of days whenever the effects of the healing ointment wore off but at least he wouldn't have to worry about an infection now.
Injuries treated, Harry turned his thoughts back to the strange robots he'd seen as he began wondering if those machines had been proof that the world he'd ended up in was inhabited. If it was, he wasn't certain whether or not he should be happy about that fact. He almost preferred to think of the entire planet as empty of all other life; though he'd always known that was more than a little presumptuous of him to think he had an entire world to himself. He couldn't help but think it was better if he remained in permanent isolation.
His past experiences had taught him that if he was alone then he would be safe from the cruel intentions of others and the innocents would be free from the curse of pain and death that seemed to afflict those who came into contact with him.
Shaking his head in disgust at the direction his thoughts were going in, Harry used his wand to clean up the blood he'd spilt all through the house and vanished his ruined clothes as he forced himself to think about something other than his wretched past or his uncertain future by focusing on the spells he needed to clean up his messes. Once he was finished with that, he spent about fifteen minutes trying to read through the next chapter of the Handbook of Household Spells that he'd been slowly working his way through for the past four months.
He eventually gave up when he hadn't been able to concentrate on the theory behind the mirror enchanting spell that would give a mirror a personality; like the one in his room at the Leaky Cauldron (an unspoken acknowledgement of the loneliness that ate away at him). He then spent about a half hour puttering about the cave playing with the various spells he'd learned earlier in the week until he accidentally blew up several of the throw pillows that had sat on his couches.
Deciding it would be safer to wander aimlessly along the beach instead of systematically destroying his home due to inattention; Harry banished the feathers to the nearest corner so he could repair the pillows later, tucked his wand into his back pocket, and ducked out of his cave. He'd been meandering along the tide line for about twenty minutes when he stumbled across the first bit of debris and he stopped to stare at the singed scrap of metal for a full minute before he turned his gaze towards the sea.
He then turned his eyes towards the sky wondering if there would be people invading his beach to search for the remains of the robot things and he felt a wave of uncertainty wash over him at the mere thought that someone could potentially find him. Crouching down, Harry pulled out his wand and used it to prod the small scrap he'd found. He bit his lip as he considered what being found might mean for him before he climbed back up onto his feet and walked about a dozen paces before he turned to stare back at the piece of metal.
Harry let his gaze be drawn towards the place where he believed the two robots had hit the ocean before flicking them back towards the scrap on the beach again. He then glanced down at his wand as he furrowed his brow while thinking through the possible scenarios of being discovered by the ones who'd either destroyed the machines or the ones who made them and wished for them to be returned. He wasn't stupid; despite his apparent young age he knew that no matter who found him, he'd either be killed on sight or thrown into their version of the child care system because he looked like a child and was obviously an orphan.
The last thing I want is be thrust into a society I know nothing about, Harry thought to himself as he glanced up to search the sky and the surface of the ocean for signs of a search party. There is no point in trying to find somewhere else to hide either; there are no other hiding places on the island. My cave and the surrounding beach are warded against intrusion anyway and should prevent anyone from finding me so long as I don't leave the wards. Maybe it was a good thing I focused more on wards rather than healing during my first year here. It would have been better if I had hid the entire island but I didn't think I'd need to at the time I first set up the wards and it would take far too long to do so now.
He started walking again only to stop and glance back at the scrap of metal once more; his mind unwilling to let go of the possibility that it was going to cause him no end of trouble. It took him a few minutes to realize that if even one piece of those robots was found on his island, then the entire area would be crawling with muggles, or worse wizards, for weeks or months on end until they found every last piece of the machines and the thought of being cooped inside of his cave for that long bothered Harry.
The only way to prevent that from happening would be to remove every last scrap of evidence that the machines had ended up anywhere near his cave and to do that Harry would have to either hide everything inside of his cave or destroy it completely. And he had to do it quickly, before they pinpointed the exact location of the machines and the bits of debris that had been washed up onto the shore (if they hadn't already done so).
Mind made up, Harry jogged back to the stretch of beach he'd warded for his own protection and stopped just outside the entrance to his cave where he fell into neutral stance with his feet positioned firmly on the sand a shoulder's width a part. Bringing his wand up, he concentrated on what he wanted before he cast the Summoning Charm to collect the broken pieces that were being washed up on shore. He didn't stop with just one spell though; he repeatedly cast the Summoning Charm in order to gather every single last piece of debris connected to the one he'd seen on the beach.
The veritable flood of spells used quite a bit of magic but he had more than enough available since his already large core had been increased when the magic from the venom, tears, transport device, and the fraction of Riddle's soul had merged with his magic (not that he knew that); though the strain of channeling that much power in such a short amount of time did take a toll on his de-aged body. He didn't think spending a few days lounging about his cave to recover would be too much of a bother though as he'd already known he'd be laid up for a while with his recent injury.
By the time Harry lowered his wand, he'd ended up with a pile of junk far larger than he thought he would and he hadn't even summoned the two robots yet. At least he'd maintained his focus when summoning everything; otherwise he might have ended up with even more junk (since there was bound to be older debris littering the ocean floor). Shaking his head, Harry spent a couple of minutes making certain that all of the pieces of scrap were well inside of his wards and as neatly stacked as he could get them before casting the Summoning Charm one last time.
He felt an immediate pull on his magic that was far more extensive than what he'd been using to summon the scraps and Harry staggered in response to the unexpected drain. He quickly learned why the final spell took so much out of him when the two monstrosities finally broke free of the water and flew towards his cave; more than a little shocked to find that the robots were far larger and far heavier than he expected. The entire ground shook when they crashed into the beach just in front of Harry and he ended up reopening the scrapes on his back and side when he threw himself back against the cliff wall in order to avoid being squashed by the giant machines.
"What the nine levels of hell have I gotten myself into this time?" Harry asked rhetorically as he pushed away from the rock wall behind him with a wince (the numbing effect of the healing paste he'd spread on his wounds not affecting the deeper bruises beneath the open cuts and scrapes) and tentatively walked closer to the huge machines.
Shaking his head again, Harry spent a good ten minutes adjusting the larger, white, red, and blue robot thing so that the bulky feet and wing-like protrusions on its back no longer stuck out beyond his wards. He was actually surprised he'd been able to move the enormous metal monster with his magic but also thankful that he could since it meant that there was less of a chance of them being found. More than once he wondered what the purpose of the machines were and if they were piloted by people or if they were merely robots that ran on some kind of computer code.
He didn't know enough about technology to figure it out on his own (he had lost touch with muggle advancements once he'd started Hogwarts) and after making certain the machines were safe from outside observation, he cast several low powered detection and revealing spells on the two complete devices to find that they were completely empty of life. That of course led to the realization of the possibility that there might be dead people stuck inside of the robots but he quickly shoved that thought out of his mind as he headed into his cave so he could get some rest in order to recover from the large expenditure of magic.
Harry woke up several hours later around sunset when his stomach loudly complained over the fact that he'd not bothered eating anything for breakfast or lunch in all of the commotion and anxiety that the appearance of the robots and his injury had generated. Stiff, sore, and still feeling more than a little exhausted, Harry took a trip down inside of his supply trunk and took a Pepper-Up Potion, a Rejuvenating Potion, a Strengthening Solution, and a Pain Relieving Potion to help ease the pain and exhaustion he felt before he headed into the kitchen area.
The potions were just starting to kick in as Harry dug into yet another trunk to get out everything he would need to make himself a couple of peanut butter and marmalade sandwiches; he would have preferred a hot meal but didn't feel up to putting out the effort to actually make anything. After he choked down the two sandwiches and washed the peanut butter from his mouth with a bottle of water, Harry slipped outside to search for any sign that there was anyone searching for the robots near his cave.
On the way out of the cave, Harry paused to stare at the large machines he'd pulled up onto his beach before he headed towards the northern edge of his wards. As he walked by the slightly smaller of the two intact robots, Harry ran his small fingers along the contours of the green robot's head as he glanced up and studied the strange machine. He shivered at the almost hostile and alien aura the machine gave off as he dropped his hand and moved away from it. Pushing the unease he felt to the back of his mind, Harry stepped up to the edge of his wards (studiously ignoring both the pile of scrap metal and the two robots) and cast a few wide area detection spells before daring to step outside of the safety zone he'd created.
Once he was certain that there was no one waiting nearby to ambush him, Harry cautiously moved beyond his wards and approached the tide line as he searched the horizon for any sign of life. After several minutes, he turned towards the north and crept along the path he'd walked earlier when he first found the salvage washed up on the shore; his wand flicking out every few minutes as he constantly recast the detection spells in order to make certain no one could sneak up on him. He'd traveled about a mile away from his cave when the detection spells suddenly indicated that there was a person on the beach and Harry froze as he hadn't actually thought he would find anyone.
Swallowing back his nervousness and uncertainty, Harry crept closer to where the spell indicated the person was and kept his wand at the ready as he let his eyes search the surrounding area for threats. About ten minutes later, Harry finally caught sight of the person his spells had been monitoring and he was a bit surprised and mildly concerned to find him or her laying half in the water. He paused to stare at the individual for several long minutes as he watched for some sign of movement before he hesitantly moved closer. When he was about ten feet away from the person, Harry stopped and studied him or her a second time and couldn't help but be reminded of the day he'd woken up on the beach back when he first arrived as he watched the tide wash over the person repeatedly.
Biting his lip, Harry backed away as he considered just leaving the person to fend for his or herself until his conscience kicked in as the mere possibility that he or she could be injured flittered through Harry's mind. There was also the fact that he or she was pretty much stranded on the same island as Harry and there was no guarantee that he or she would find his or her way off of the island. Sending up a brief prayer that he wasn't making a huge mistake (to whatever gods were listening), Harry slipped even closer; his eyes glued to the unmoving figure as he watched for any hint of movement.
With his stomach twisting up in knots, Harry once more considered fleeing and leaving whoever it was to their own resources. As before, it was his conscience that spurred him ever forward and he wondered why he felt the need to help someone he didn't even know. He guessed that part of it was the loneliness he'd been trying to ignore since he'd first washed up on the beach and another part was the number of times he'd wished someone had helped him when he had been alone and hurting. Sighing heavily, Harry cast another detection spell to confirm that the individual in front of him was the only one in the immediate area before he finally inched closer until he was standing just a few feet away from the figure.
"H…hell…hello…?" Harry called out hesitantly as he crouched down and studied the form intently; taking in the strange brownish colored suit the person was wearing (which looked like a cross between a space suit and a military uniform) and the dark face plate of the helmet that made it difficult to see the person's face clearly.
When there was no response from the person, Harry crab walked closer and poked the figure with his wand, a stunning spell on the tip of his tongue in case whoever it was attacked. When there was still no response, Harry stood up once more and prodded the person with his foot as he wondered what he should do. Leaning down, he shook the person by the arm in the hopes that it would wake him or her up but wasn't really surprised when nothing happened. He was surprised by the feeling of security he felt in the person's aura as he'd half expected the person to feel as hostile as the giant green robot had felt earlier.
"Merlin save me," Harry muttered as he stood back up and pointed his wand at the figure once more. "Because I think I've finally lost what little sanity I had remaining."
So saying, Harry levitated the individual with a swish and flick of his wand (unknowingly shorting out the self destruct device built into the suit) and grabbed hold of one of the straps of the odd pack that was attached to the strange suit the person was wearing and began guiding the person back towards his cave. The walk back to his cave seemed to take twice as long and left Harry feeling twice as antsy since he couldn't use his wand to cast the detection spells while he was using it to levitate the person that he'd found.
By the time he actually made it back to the edge of his wards, the sun had long since set and Harry was feeling as tense as a tightly coiled spring and far more exhausted than he had after summoning the robots and debris. He was also soaked with sweat and shivering as the evening wind chilled his damp shirt. Hoping he wouldn't get sick because of the day's unexpected adventures (though the Pepper-Up Potion he'd taken earlier should help to prevent that), Harry pulled the person into his cave and gently canceled the levitation charm once he maneuvered the person over his bed.
"Now what am I supposed to do with you?" Harry asked out loud in a slightly breathless and tired voice as he stood over the bed and stared at the suited individual. Shaking his head over the absurdity of asking such a question out loud, Harry knelt down on the bed beside the person and spent the next few minutes figuring out how to remove the helmet.
Once he managed to pull the bulky thing off, Harry was shocked to find that the person he had saved was a young teen that appeared to be a year or two younger than himself (if he didn't take into consideration the strange age reversal he'd gone through at some point before he'd arrived in this world). After staring at the teen for a few minutes, Harry shook off the shock and searched for a way to remove the entire suit. He eventually found the zipper hidden beneath the red strip of heavy duty fabric that ran down the front of the suit and spent a good twenty minutes pulling the fairly form fitting suit off of the teen.
"Don't go anywhere," Harry instructed wearily under his breath as he dumped the suit off to one side with the helmet. "If I am to make certain you aren't going to die on me; I'm going to have to dig out one of my healing books. Merlin's beard but you've been making quite a nuisance of yourself since the moment I found you."
He returned a little over twenty minutes later with his nose stuck in the book he'd retrieved only to stop and look up sharply when he heard a loud clicking sound followed by a strange humming whine and found the teen standing beside the bed aiming a pistol at his face. Strangely enough, Harry felt no fear as he stared down the barrel of what could only be a gun; only a sense of inevitability as he realized he should have known that this was how things would end. Looking beyond the barrel of the gun; Harry let his eyes meet the cold blue eyes of the teen he'd pulled from the beach without flinching as he waited for the other kid to say something.
"I will kill you," the teen declared after two minutes of complete silence; his blue eyes hard and unforgiving.
Harry only blinked as he tilted his head to one side, the teen's words stirring up memories of each time Voldemort and a handful of other individuals had uttered similar words to him and after a moment he snorted before replying, "Take a number and get in line, mate, because you definitely aren't the first to promise me death and I seriously doubt you'll be the last."
Harry paused for a moment as the teen's eyes filled with confused shock and lowered his gun a fraction as he stared at Harry in disbelief. Snorting a second time, Harry closed the book he'd been skimming through just a few minutes earlier with a sharp snap; causing the other teen to glance at Harry's hands. Shaking his head, Harry tucked the book under his arm, glanced briefly at the gun again, and lifted his eyes so that he could meet the stranger's eyes once more as he arched an eyebrow questioningly.
"Well? What are you waiting for?" Harry inquired after a moment when it became apparent that the teen wasn't going to say anything further. "You know, for a bad guy you don't really know what you're doing, do you? Let me give you some advice; first you need a new look, because the whole biker shorts and tank top thing is so not evil overlord or even deranged serial killer material."
"Second, you might want to wear a mask or something because evil is never cute or maybe work on developing a proper evil sneer to make you look a bit more intimidating – though I admit the cold emotionless mask is a good start. I suggest not going down the dark ritual path though because, let me tell you; the no-nose, bald-as-a-baby, with greenish-gray tinged skin look really isn't as scary as it sounds. Although, if you think ugly and evil are synonymous, then I guess it wouldn't matter."
"What the hell are you talking about?" the teen demanded as he lowered the gun even further.
"You obviously need help; I mean if you plan on being evil and threatening every kid you come across, you really should try to at least always look like you know what you're doing," Harry countered as he stepped closer to the teen and grabbed the hand holding the gun and lifted it back up so the gun was now resting against the jagged lightening bolt scar on his forehead.
"First of all, never lower your weapon; most punk kids tend to take advantage of the fact that you let your guard down. You should scowl more too; but whatever you do, make certain you practice in front of a mirror because if you do it wrong, then it will just make you look constipated. Finally, if you find the need to monologue, try to keep it short because the longer you talk, the more time your prey has to find a way to escape. I also suggest never giving your evil overlord speech in front of more than two minions; otherwise you'll just embarrass yourself in front of them all when you lose to a kid half your size and it is far easier to replace one or two minions than it is your entire army. Trust me… I've seen it happen."
Harry paused and began tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for the teen to react and when nothing happened, Harry sighed and pointedly added, "You know; this is the point where you're supposed to either make your 'I am evil incarnate speech' or pull the trigger."
"Are you fucking nuts or something!?" the teen cried as he flung the gun away and dropped back onto the bed as he stared at Harry in complete shock.
"Not yet… I'm working on that," Harry deadpanned as he glanced down at the book he was holding. "I don't suppose I need to bother with this now. The bathroom is through the door on your left if you wish to clean up." Harry turned to leave only to pause as he glanced back over his shoulder as he added, "You're welcome to stay for a day or two if you need to recover from any injuries you have. If you decide you can't stay for whatever reason; I need to know fairly soon though because I am the only one who can show you the way out and I'm not in the mood to sit around and wait for you to make up your mind because I have things that need to be done."
03-12-16: This chapter has replaced with an edited and revised edition that added two hundred fifty-three words to the story content and removed any unnecessary author's notes. ~ Jenn