CHAPTER 67: The Devil's Greatest Trick (Part 6)

Grimmauld Place

February 1st, 1996

2:30 a.m.

It had been a long time since he'd felt as nervous as he did now. Anticipation built in his stomach, and he hated the general unease it brought him. It wasn't eagerness or excitement, as it had been when McGonagall first came to the Dursley's home and told him he was a wizard. It wasn't dread or the helplessness he'd felt countless times since he had first stepped foot in the castle he was so elated to have been invited to. If he were to describe it as something, it would be unease.

He was keenly aware of everything. The ticking clock in the hallway outside, the rustling of the duvet as he moved around the edge of the bed, trying to find a comfortable seating position when his body demanded to remain on high alert. Regulus kept muttering, he'd been just as fidgety as he was since the other night. He had tried and pried to get him to talk, to give him any information about the actual plan, but he had remained firm in his stance.

Regulus wouldn't like what came next. He'd only complicate things even further.

There were no doubts in his mind. No sudden hesitancy about what he would do, or the repercussions it would bring upon everyone in this room. Once upon a time, he would have. Would have been weak and lowered his guard. Would have allowed himself to believe that they were his friends, and that some, even if not many of them, cared about him. But it was a lie. A way to keep tabs on him or keep him calm. To subdue him and stop him from acting before they themselves could act.

He'd seen it before. Lived this story twice now, more than enough times to know it wasn't real. And yet, his mind strayed to the conversation he'd had with Dumbledore only hours ago. Could feel his ghost sitting right beside him on the bed. His white beard clashed with his pink robes, and his eyes, as usual, were unable to meet his own.

"You'll be going back to Hogwarts tomorrow."

"You were serious?" Harry asked, unable to keep the disgust from his tone.

"Why would I not be?"

"I don't have a wand, for starters. And if everything everyone has told me about wandlore is even half true, then there's no going back."

"For most people, yes." Dumbledore said, almost absently. "But I don't think you're like most people in that regard. A fact you're very aware of, I'm sure."

Harry hadn't missed the mostly innocuous hints Dumbledore had given him that he knew about his magical power. And given the fact that Pomfrey and Andromeda had looked after him for days while he was in the dying remnants of his mind, they had had plenty of time to carry out extensive checks on his body and magic. And as powerful as he prided himself on being, he didn't think himself more powerful than Dumbledore. Which meant if he could use someone else's wand, even if mediocrely, and in a way that left him exhausted afterwards, then so could Dumbledore. "It isn't the same."

"And it will never be the same." Dumbledore said gloomily. "I'm working on something with Garrick and Mykew-"

"You've already told me this-"

"I know. And we've made progress. We're going to continue making progress while you're still at Hogwarts. But what I need you to understand is that there's no going back, no way to truly fix this. Not in the way you want to. There are certain things that, once broken, can't be fixed or restored as they were. Scars may never fully heal, but we carry on nonetheless. Your magical ability, it allows you to bend the will of a foreign wand, even if for a second. Our hope with this project is not to find a way to create a bond with a new wand. Your magical core has already moulded itself to be in sync with the core of your old wand, there's no reversing that. Greater men than me have tried before. But if we can find a way to modify a wand, to… make it yield. Make it easier for your magic to overpower without you experiencing any physical or magical exhaustion so that you can reach the raw power that is considered average for wizards in Britain and bring you up to par with your classmates. Then that… that would be a solution - the only solution I can think of at the moment. You won't be a squib, you won't be able to reach the heights you flew at before, but it'll be something. It's the best I can offer you."

Harry had hated that response. In part, because he knew it to be true. Because he was too stubborn to accept that this was it. That because of the delusions of a madman, he was screwed over for the rest of his life with no hope of fixing it. But mostly, he hated the defeatist attitude to it all. Life had taught him that maintaining such a pessimistic attitude would get you nowhere. No solutions ever came from moping about, something he'd forgotten until most recently. And he wasn't about to place the fate of his magic in the hands of someone like that. Someone who wouldn't do anything, regardless of the insurmountable odds, to make sure he had conquered his challenge.

"How long do you think it'll be before you have it?" Harry asked nonetheless, staring down at his feet and trying to picture Regulus' reaction from underneath the bed.

"Late summer at the earliest. If not longer. What we're doing, we're experimenting in unexplored territory. We have a lot of ground to cover before we even get close to a feasible solution, but we will find one. I give you my word on that."

"Yeah, okay."

"It would help if we had pieces of your wand," Dumbledore told him, finally gaining the courage to ask it of him. "I know it's a lot to ask, and I know why you're hesitant to trust me or anyone else in this house. So if you don't want to give them to me, I'd understand. But I'm sure Garrick and Mykew would appreciate it. It would make our work much easier."

Even with Dumbledore's permission to say no, Harry couldn't bring himself to do it. It would be too close to telling him he wasn't going to wait around until they figured out a mediocre solution. And though Dumbledore hadn't tried to peek into his mind through legilimency in the past month and a half, putting it into words would surely make it obvious. He just hoped Snape was wrong. He couldn't be that bad of a liar if he'd made it this far.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I don't have them. I… I don't know what happened to them after… after Sirius snapped it."

"That's okay," Dumbledore said appeasingly. "I'll go to the basement before I leave for Hogwarts later tonight. And if I don't find them, I'll go talk to Sirius in the morning."

"Thank you, sir."

"As for your return to Hogwarts, you'll come to see me after the welcoming feast. I have a wand. An- it's an old one I picked up in my travels. No one's used it in a few decades, so don't be worried about someone barging on your door and taking it away. It'll be effectively yours until my work with Garrick and Mykew is done. I know you'll treat it with the care and respect it deserves."

"Thank you, sir. I will."

"Professor Umbridge has made wands largely useless for students, so it's more for emergencies than anything. But you'll need it for your OWLs. With your magical power, you should be able to do an acceptable job on the practical exams before you begin experiencing any notable exhaustion. You deserve more, I'm sure, but beyond talking to Griselda and the examiners and requesting leniency, that's the best I can do."

"It's okay, sir. You've done enough. Truly."

With the words echoing inside his mind, Dumbledore began to fade beside him, and he was once again brought back to the dark, empty bedroom in which he resided. It was just then that he noticed just how hard his heart was beating. His hands began to sweat and even though he knew that every second he wasted was a risk to his plan, he couldn't bring himself to stand up.

And it all lead back to Dumbledore's final words. For what he promised wasn't hell or to be seen as a cripple. It wasn't malicious or neglectful. In all honesty, it was the best that Dumbledore could do given the situation, a much better ending to his winter break than what he had been expecting. It was tempting in its promise because it was guaranteed. Because what he was going to do now, not only did it risk going wrong, but it would risk having Dumbledore's help revoked. All the privileges he'd earnt, the relationships he'd built, the image of himself with these people. All gone. In one fell swoop, he would lose everything.

"You don't have to do this," Regulus said, seemingly reading his mind from his spot atop the desk. "You can stay. Dumbledore's offer isn't a bad one. And if you don't, if you really want to fix your wand, then we can go. We can get the locket and leave without doing whatever shit you intend to do."

But he couldn't. Not because it wasn't possible, it certainly was. The issue of the floo needing to be opened by someone on the outside was one that could be easily fixed. But he couldn't go. Not like this. Ever since he woke up there hadn't been a single moment where he couldn't feel the anger. It was eating away at him and he could barely contain impotence he felt at the whole situation. The beating he took, his wand being snapped… he couldn't let it go. Couldn't forgive and forget and go on his merry way.

The effort it took to play the part, to finally take Montague's advice, Snape's advice, and act like a Slytherin had been gruelling. It had taken all of him, and he was finally near the finish line. All he had to do was power through this last bit, and it would be done. But he couldn't. It had been his downfall before, the thing nearly everyone had pointed out to him. Even those who wanted nothing more than to see him suffer. His friends knew it. His enemies knew it. And now he did too. You couldn't escape who you were. You couldn't change. Not really. Because there was no way in hell he was leaving this house without making sure Sirius Black died first.

"Yes," he croaked out. "I do."

Harry stood up and ignored Regulus as he tried to hiss his protests and pleas to stop him in his journey. But as he reached the door and grabbed the knob, he stopped in place. He took in a deep breath, knowing there were several kinks in the plan he still had to solve. And his he began gripping it tighter and tighter, he finally let it go as he muttered curses at himself.

He couldn't leave, not without Regulus' portrait. He needed him. The elf wouldn't even begin to consider doing what he was told without Walburga and Regulus both there to convince the creature. He crushed the rolled-up canvas in his hand in frustration before turning back to the portrait. He wasn't leaving anything to chance. Not anymore.

Shadowfield Estate

3:15 a.m.

The crackling of the fire filled the room as it had for the past couple of hours as Sirius' eyes lost themselves within its embers. His leg shook madly as he did, sitting on the armchair he had pulled all the way across the living room so that it was only a few feet away from the fireplace. He held his wand in his hand - nearly fifteen inches, made from jet black ebony wood with a unicorn hair core - and it was nearly rippling with magic, with sparks coming out of it as it was ready to cast. For he knew this was the night.

It was when he would do it. No one in the Order believed him when he had tried to warn them. Not even the paranoid sort like Moody, or the supposed all-knowing leader that was Dumbledore. They had all been swayed by Potter. It was smart, not suddenly playing the innocent little puppy. It would have only brought more suspicion towards him. Instead, he played on their guilt and sympathy, he had made himself out to be this tortured soul everyone wanted him to be so that they would forget who he truly was. The threat he presented to all of them.

But Sirius hadn't. Even when Remus had proven himself to be a weak-willed coward, willing to run back and attempt to make amends with Potter, the boy who had cursed him for life, he wasn't so quick to forget. He wasn't blinded by his emotions like they were, wasn't hoping on idiotic dreams of redemption to make it all right. Didn't feel one ounce of guilt for what he had done. Because in this world, one had to get their hands dirty. In this world, the people who allowed their emotions to win died. And the ones who didn't, the monsters like him and Potter… they were the ones who survived.

Potter would do it tonight, there was no doubt about that. It was the last night before they would take the train back to Hogwarts. The final night when everyone was busy with about a million other things, their guard fully down as Potter had spent weeks making them trust him. The final chance he would get in a very long while. And that was something Sirius wouldn't let happen. He'd sit in front of the fire all night if he must.

He'd been there since before dinner. Long enough for Hermione to try and plead with him that he was wrong about Potter. Long enough for Remus to berate him for how he was acting and insist he had been wrong about Potter, and that Sirius should let go of the hatred he held for the boy. Long enough for everyone to give up on talking to him and go to sleep. And now he remained. Alone, with nothing but the comforting warmth of the fire to keep him company in the darkness of the room.

And all the time he was alone, he repeated those five words over and over in his head until they felt permanently burned into it. Harry Potter wasn't beating him.

As the night passed, his dedication never faltered. His body kept him up, not even allowing him to feel restless as he ventured deeper into the night. And his conviction remained as strong as it had since he had placed the boy in his rightful cage. He waited, patiently, until finally Kreacher arrived and turned to him with a snide look on his face. Sirius had never seen the elf look so bitter, but he didn't really give a rat's arse about it.

"What is it?" He snapped.

"Sirius Black told Kreacher to warn him. What Sirius Black said is happening."

"Now?"

"Yes," the elf gritted out. "The escape is happening as we speak."

It was as if a bolt of lightning had struck him. He leapt to his feet, sending the armchair toppling backwards as he immediately raised his wand and summoned a bit of floo powder. With his empty hand, he grabbed a pinch of it mid-air. And in one fell swoop, he threw the powder and stepped into the flames as he yelled, "Grimmauld Place!"

Everything turned green for a moment as the fire consumed him, and when he arrived at Grimmauld it was nothing like what he had been expecting. There was no Potter in sight, no lights on or any sound coming from anywhere in the house. Not a creak of the floor or a single snore. Not a person in sight or movement in the corner of his eye. But far from calming, it only put him more on edge. With a flick of his wand, he silenced his shoes and disillusioned himself. But while the Silencio charm on his shoes had worked, the disillusionment charm only lasted for a moment before he felt himself turn visible once more.

"Damn," he muttered, before he began to move around the house. He didn't risk using the Lumos charm or anything else to bring attention to him. Without a wand, the best Potter could do was ambush him from a corner. Which meant he didn't want to risk being a clear target. However, after over a decade of living in the dark cells of Azkaban, his eyes had adapted well enough. This was the house he was born in, he knew where everything was and could see much better than Potter would be able to. Potter wasn't getting out of here.

He checked the living room thoroughly, waiting for a sound or any sudden movement from the boy. But nothing came of it. And as he left the room and was about to head to the kitchen, a sound from behind startled him into turning around and aiming his wand at the darkness. "Levicorpus!"

The green light filled the Entrance hall before it hit the door and blasted it completely in light. Potter wasn't there, but a familiar titter from right beside the door made him stop in his tracks. The mere sound of it nearly stopped his heart and made him take a couple of steps back. The voice that had haunted him for nearly half his life, the one he had thought to have rid himself off. And yet, it was clear as day. His dear mother was back.

"Oh, Siri," she laughed cruelly as he hesitantly walked along the Entrance Hall. "To think the son of your blood traitor friend you so cherished will be the one to enforce my rightful retribution for your betrayal. I couldn't have come up with something more poetic if I tried."

"You're in league with him," he gritted out, finally reaching the portrait and seeing her wicked smile.

"Oh, I wish. But I can't take credit. This was all his plan, after all. I only wish you or Regulus turned out to be half the man he is."

His blood boiled, and just as he opened his mouth to snarl at his mother, a swoosh from the other side of the hall made him turn slightly before he was struck on the left side of his forehead. He staggered to his knees, immediately launching two blasting charms at the other side of the hall. They crashed against the kitchen door, breaking it apart and launching it into the room. He looked around wildly as he felt blood trickle down his forehead, but he didn't see his attacker.

"And what he has planned for you," his mother giggled. "I just wish I'd get to see it."

"Come into the light, you pathetic coward!" Sirius shouted, ignoring his mother as he stepped over the broken glass on the floor and rushed along the hall. "Face me!"

"Not quite yet," Potter's voice was merely a whisper, but he heard it all around him. Sirius turned and launched curses, but they all struck the walls and portraits hanging from them. "And don't worry about your little curses, no one can hear them, I made sure of that. And even if they could, the large doses of sleeping drought everyone had for dinner are enough to keep them asleep until at least sunrise. They'll be lucky if they don't miss the train."

"You think I want them here? They'd only get in the way."

"Oh, on that, we can agree." Potter said darkly, and a moment after, a loud rustling came from the kitchen.

Sirius' eyes immediately snapped towards it. He jumped over the bottom half of the door, which had somehow remained untouched after his two blasting curses, and aimed a spread of jinxes and curses around the room. The kitchen upended in a cacophony, with pans flying all over the place and plates and glasses exploding into bits and pieces. But even before the light show ended, he saw that Potter wasn't there. His heart stopped, eyes widened, and when he turned to look back, he saw his mother's old orb flying straight for his head. It hit him in the jaw, the glass cracking on impact and biting into his flesh.

Sirius screamed in pain, reeling from the impact as he took a few steps back only to see Potter rushing at him from the door. He fumbled with his wand, but before he could aim properly, the boy tackled him to the ground and into the broken glass. He could feel it in his back through his robes, and though the pieces weren't large enough to do considerable damage, it threw him off his game for a moment. Before he could recover, Potter was on top of him and struck him in the face twice before he managed to push the kid off.

With a snarl, Sirius turned on the spot and began transforming into his Grim form. He began feeling his body morph, and the raw need to survive from the Grim began to take over as his sounds became more and more feral. Before, suddenly, the transformation stopped. It only lasted for a second before it began tearing itself apart in the most excruciating manner, reversing the change as he was left to howl and cry in agony. And through it all, he heard Potter laugh, even louder than his own screams.

"Anti-Animagus wards, you twat!" Potter laughed right as he kicked Sirius in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. "I'm gonna send Moody some fucking flowers once I'm done with you. This'll make everything much easier."

Potter was relentless, he didn't give Sirius a second to recover. He kept throwing kicks at his stomach and face, stomped on his fingers, punched him in the jaw and even managed to pick him up and throw him across the table. He endured the pain, took the blows in his stride, as he made sure to keep his grip on his wand strong. His face was bleeding, his entire body aching from the rampage Potter had unleashed on him, but as soon as he got a couple of seconds away from the assault as Potter was forced to walk over to him, Sirius stood up and launched the boy across the room.

He crashed onto the wall outside the kitchen, and when Sirius rushed across the room to go on the offensive, he saw as Potter cracked his neck as he kept his glare steady without breaking eye contact. He launched a couple of curses at him, but Potter ducked and rolled out of their way, seeking cover in the living room.

"Not now!" Potter yelled abruptly, stopping Sirius in his tracks. He quickly looked around the room, trying to find any other assailants Potter included in his scheme, and was punished for his hesitancy as Potter launched himself onto him again. But Sirius had been expecting this, grabbing him mid-air and throwing him on the ground. The fall was harsh, but Potter recovered quickly enough to dodge the three curses he sent his way.

However, the movement forced him to move away from him, and Sirius took the long distance between them as his advantage. He sent a barrage of jinxes and curses at him, even trying to immobilize him with various charms, but the boy managed to dodge them all with relative ease. The carelessness to his movements, the way he was treating this as practice rather than an actual duel, only served to piss him off even further. Enough to raise his wand, and yell one of the most gruesome curses he'd seen during his time in the war.

"SECTUMSEMP-"

"NOW KREACHER!"

Before he could finish his words, he heard a finger snap from behind him right before his wand flew out of his hand. It was launched into the air, flying far enough ahead of him that his attempts to catch it were futile. And as his eyes trailed the wand's trajectory, he watched as it fell into Potter's extended hand. The boy closed his eyes for a moment, as if feeling the wand's power, before he opened them and grinned.

"Kreacher, what the fuck did you do!?"

"CONFRINGO!" Potter snarled before the elf could answer, and Sirius' eyes widened right before the curse hit him square in the chest. His body got thrown backwards, crashing into the ground as his robes were caught in a small fire. His ribs ached, and he coughed out blood, but given the nature of the curse the results were mediocre at best. A curse like that to its full potential could have blown a hole into him, maybe even torn off his arm. But regardless of the power behind it, Potter did it while using someone else's wand. While using Sirius' wand. And that… the dread that crept into his heart at that moment was unlike anything he'd ever felt before.

Potter grinned wildly, towering him as he walked to stand only a few feet from him. "I do love the sight of fear." Sirius began to scurry back, but Potter used the wand to drag him back towards him before kicking him in the face. "How did you think this was going to end, huh?" He kicked him two more times before using the wand to launch him upwards into the ceiling before he was let go to crash on the ground. "Did you think you were gonna come over here, kill me, and be done with it?" Potter pulled him to his feet with the wand before headbutting him in the nose. "Did you think it was gonna be that easy?"

Sirius staggered backwards, blood and snot flowing from his nose as he tripped over himself on his way out of the living room. With Potter blocking the fireplace in front of him, there was nothing he could do. Nothing but rununning up the stairs and find a place to hide until everyone woke up. But Potter didn't even give him that chance because by the time he managed to get back up again, Potter launched another blasting curse at him and sent him flying across the hall.

"It's not easy when you're the one being ambushed, is it?" Potter snarled, walking over to him with no rush or eagerness. He was cold in the way he moved, walking evenly and without hesitation, as he looked at him with a set of dull green eyes that would haunt him for the rest of his days. "It's not easy when you don't have your two lackeys to hold me in placd as you beat the living shit out of me, is it?"

Potter neglected his wand, once again opting for striking him in the gut and face over and over. Sirius tried defending himself from it, but his body was frail and weak, and his attempts at blocking only served to anger him further. With the strength of his blows, Potter pushed him back against the door before he growled and used the wand in his hand to stab him in the eye. Sirius screamed, managing to throw Potter a few steps back as he tried feeling out his own wand that remained stuck in his eye. But before he could try to rip it out, Potter surged forward with speed and kicked him in the stomach.

He was thrown back, the force bursting the door behind him open as he fell on his arse and began toppling down the stairs. His body crashed all over the place, and Sirius felt as several bones broke and the last of his resistance was taken with the fall. It didn't last long, and he soon hit the ground below, but by that time, he couldn't do more than crawl away. He tried reaching for the wand that clung to his eye, only to realise it was no longer there. And with that realisation came another, more despairing one, as he realised his eye had been ripped out of his socket with it.

And it was with his last remaining eye that he saw Potter walking down the steps of the basement. His face and clothes covered in Sirius' blood. The spitting image of his old friend, and yet, he looked nothing like him at that moment. If he was asked to picture Tom Riddle in his last few Hogwarts years, the image of Potter stalking him down to the basement would be the first thing his mind would conjure up. And though Sirius tried to feel anger or hatred, the fear was too overpowering to ignore.

Potter dropped to his knees in front of him, before completely throwing himself on top of Sirius as he resumed his assault on his face. The blows almost felt inconsequential compared to the beating the rest of his body had taken. And the more Potter kept at it, the more his fists bruised and bloodied. He didn't know how long Potter continued pummelling his face for before he stopped. Panting and tired, he rested for a moment as he kept Sirius pinned to the ground.

Their eyes met, and Sirius could see Potter's rage faltering. There was conflict in his eyes. Small, barely noticeable, and it disappeared almost as soon as he saw it. But just seeing it brought out something in Sirius. A primal urge that took over his body. "Do it," he croaked out. "Kill me." Potter didn't respond, only glared down at him as he used his forearm to push down against his throat. "KILL ME!"

Potter gritted his teeth, pushing down on his throat so hard he stopped breathing for a few seconds. And as time went by, Potter grew angrier. His hands shook, and for a moment Sirius was sure he would actually do it. That he wouldn't back down. But then he heard it, the feral scream that left his mouth before he began his onslaught on his face again. Once. Twice. He stopped counting soon after, Potter's choice was clear. This was nothing but anger management.

"Kill…" Sirius began coughing out blood mid-sentence. "Me…"

"No," Potter spat.

"Kill… me…"

"NO!" He snarled, picking him up and throwing him against the bars of the cell. Pinning him upright as he glared into his eyes. "You're not getting what you want." Potter punched him. "You're not dying." Again. "Not tonight." Again. "You… you get to live." And with one final punch, Potter finally yanked him off the wall and threw him on the floor.

Sirius rolled over, feeling the pain in every inch of his body, before Potter grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and began pulling him across the room. "You're going to live knowing that I got out of that cell." Potter kicked the door to the cell open before he continued dragging him across the floor. "You're going to live knowing that I'm the one who gets to use your wand after you snapped mine." And with his final burst of strength, Potter pulled him across the cell until his back crashed against the wall.

"You're going to live out the rest of your days in the cell that you sentenced me to. You're going to live knowing that, even after getting help from Lupin and Tonks, after you snapped my wand and made me a cripple, after leaving me to rot inside this house with no one on my side… THAT I MADE IT OUT OF HERE! THAT I PICKED MYSELF BACK UP, ON MY FUCKING OWN, AND BEAT YOU!"

"KILL ME!"

"NO!" Potter snarled. "You don't get to decide. Not anymore."

"Then what? You think I won't get out of here? You think I won't get out and kill you the moment Andromeda patches me up?"

Potter stopped right outside the cell, facing away, as he lowered his head slightly and let the silence fill the room for a moment. "You're more than welcome to try. But until then…" Potter turned around and gave him a cold glare. "You'll be stuck in Purgatory."

"No," Sirius spat, crawling on the ground as he made his way to the bars of the cell. "No. No. Kreacher! Come get me out of here! Kreacher!"

A loud crack filled the room and the elf looked down at him with contempt. "Kreacher no longer has to follow Sirius Black's orders. Sirius Black is no longer Kreacher's master."

"What?" He croaked out.

"Kreacher will only obey Master Harry Potter's orders."

Sirius' eyes immediately snapped towards Potter, who had knelt at the foot of the stairs and picked up his black wand, scrubbing off the wet blood dripping from the tip of it. "You bastard!" He snarled, but Potter ignored him as he pocketed the wand and began going up the stairs. "I'm gonna get out of here, and when I do, I'm gonna kill you. I'm gonna hunt you down and kill you with my bare hands. I swear, on my life, if it's the last thing I do, I WILL KILL YOU."

Potter opened the door, not even turning to look at him, and before he could say anything else, the door was slammed shut and the basement was enveloped into pitch darkness.

"I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU!"

That's it for this chapter, thank you all for reading!

Next chapter we'll see the aftermath to The Devil's Greatest Trick arc. Be excited!

By the time I'm posting this, I'm ELEVEN chapters ahead, and I have started the arc titled Lost Souls, which is one of the final arcs before we reach the climax of fifth-year! If you are interested in learning how to get early access to them, join my discord server using the following link: discord . gg / jyPfbGqhJT

As always, thank you for reading, favouriting, and commenting! I appreciate all of you! :)