And just like that, months turned to years, and years to decades. Throughout it all, Helena and Fred kept their promise to each other. Through the good times and the bad they strove everyday for their forever.
Helena, who had steadily become Head Auror and a renowned legend, settled down with her husband after five years of marriage and together they had two kids: James Weasley and Liliana Weasley.
Together, they were the center of Helena's world. Being an only child while also living in an abusive household almost all her childhood, Helena had decided a long time ago that she wanted a big family. And because Fred already came from a large family, he was completely on board with this idea.
However, eight years into their marriage, Helena had undergone two miscarriages and three still births. Steadily she had begun to withdraw into herself, rarely talking to anyone other than George, who never looked at her with pity or grief.
Feeling like a failure as a wife and mother, Helena drew away from Fred. Leaving him hurt and lonely in his grief for months on end but, not wanting to push her any further stayed quiet in his suffering. For months after, while Helena and Fred avoided and danced around the subject it finally came to a head when George, having enough of their stupidity locked them in a closet with orders to
"Sort your shit out before I fight both of you. You both still love the other, remember why you came together in the first place. And do it fast, mom's making dessert tonight and I'm not saving you losers any if you miss it!"
And so, after a lot of screaming, crying, and rough, angry sex that shook the very foundations of the pint-sized closet, Helena and Fred might have missed Molly's famous baked apple pie but it was worth it when, nine months later, they got what they had long sought after with the birth of their fraternal twin children: Liliana and James Weasley. And with their birth they both agreed that they were enough.
Years passed and Liliana and James grew to be as different as night and day. Where Liliana was loud, brash, and head strong, James was quiet, reserved, and shy. Like two halves of the same whole, though, the children were inseparable and completed each other in ways Helena had only ever seen in George and Fred's relationship. Either way, as Helena looked at her children, she felt love, contentment, and belonging in a way she hadn't most of her life. For once, her life was perfect; for once, she was happy. After years of sacrifice and suffering, Helena had finally found her happily ever after.
She was at peace.
Or so she thought….
Looking back on it now, she could almost drown in the bitterness of her own stupidity because when has her life ever been that easy.
Unbeknownst to Helena Weasley nee Potter, deep in the bowels of Azkaban, amidst the screams of the suffering and the damned, living amidst the worst criminals of the Wizarding World, resentment had taken root in the hearts of the former Death Eaters and their allies. Hatred for the Girl-Who-Lived, who had defeated their Lord, a god amongst men. The man that should have conquered, who had promised them glory and revenge against the Muggles and their ilk. Who had promised them riches beyond compare and power they could only dream of. The man who had been defeated by a seventeen-year-old girl, a witch with only half of his experience! Oh, how they raged at the injustice of their situation but none more so than the former Death Eater turned World's Most Wanted, Antonin Dolohov.
All those years, Dolohov thought through gritted teeth and red rimmed, half crazed eyes, gripping the bars of his cell so tightly his knuckles grew stark white with the strain, training, fighting, worshipping the very air he breathed! All for the taste of my promised glory! Power beyond compare only for him to lose to some half-blood bitch! (but then, Antonin thought with derision, what do you expect from another half-blood, no better than a jumped-up bastard at that!)
In truth, Antonin could admit, at least to himself, that he regretted the day he had ever decided to abandon his pure-blood heritage and supremacy to lower himself to serving the likes of Lord Voldemort. No! Dolohov crushed that thought mercilessly. He was and has always been Tom Riddle, the bastard son of some weak, disgusting Muggle man and some whore Gaunt witch barely worth the pureblood magic and lineage she had been gifted, who, in the end, just proved why even being half Muggle was a Muggle too much.
(He chooses to forget the fact that the Muggleborn witch, Hermione Granger, had defeated him in battle before or that it was a half blood, Helena Potter, that won the war.)
Now look where it has led me, he shook in fury, locked away in some gods-forsaken cell no closer to the power and honor I was promised. My standing in society, gone. My magic, restrained. My freedom, withheld.
In his despair Dolohov ranted and raved, raged and screamed so thunderously that it meshed well with the screams of his fellow damned. But even in his anger, Dolohov has always been a Slytherin at heart; his ambition knew no bounds. His greed, no limits. And his hatred, no end.
He would get his revenge, Dolohov swore, in the remnants of his blackened heart. He swore on his magic, the only thing he had left, that he would escape this prison one day, that he would make everyone who went against him suffer, that he would kill the half-blood bitch and all her ilk, and finally, when he had achieved his vengeance, he would stand above them all, the whole world in fact, Dolohov cackled madly, and finally obtain what pathetic, worthless Tom Riddle never could. The key to eternal life, the Deathly Hallows. And in doings so become what he was always meant to be, The Master of Death.
And so, months turned to years and years to decades, and in this time, Dolohov plotted and planned, schemed and reforged alliances admist the denizens of the lower levels of Azkaban. He communicated with former Death Eaters and purebloods alike, and while he still found them beneath him, he also forged alliances with more dark-aligned Half-bloods, Muggleborns, and Magical Creatures seeing their uses, even for only a little while, until he could afford to kill and replace them with more appropriate subjects.
Anything to get to his enemies and immeasurable power, Dolohov thought relentlessly over the years. Anything to bring the world to its knees before him.
And after forty-nine years his plans were finally coming to fruition, after decades of careful planning, the spies he had managed to acquire outside of Azkaban reported that the time was right. Over the years his spies had notified him that as time went on Helena Potter now Weasley and her friends and family had started to become complacent in their older age. Where once they were at the peak of their magical prowess, they had started to age and grow complacent in the new world they had created after the fall of the "Old World" as many witches and wizards had begun to call Wizarding society before the fall of Lord Voldemort and the corrupt Ministry of Magic that came before Hermione Granger and Helena Potter took charge.
Furthermore, his spies stated that this was the perfect time to strike Helena's main base of support, the Weasleys and their allies, since it was briefly mentioned in the latest article from the Daily Prophet that Helena and her husband Fred were going on their 50th anniversary to visit a dragon reserve her brother-in-law, Charles "Charlie" Weasley, had recommended as a beautiful getaway somewhere off the coast of some Hawaiian island near an active volcano he could barely remember in America.
It didn't matter either way, the only thing that was of any importance to Antonin was the obvious fact that Potter, his most powerful opposition, would be away from her friends and children for two weeks. Slowly a malicious smirk full of nothing but loathing and long-suffered hatred grew across Dolohov pale, cracked lips, while his red rimmed, dark eyes glinted with barely concealed madness and cruelty. Two Weeks was all the time he would need.
Five weeks later, Wizarding society was shocked by the news that made front page on every headliner in Magical Europe, that the wanted war criminal Antonin Dolohov along with ten other wanted fugitives had escaped the impenetrable prison Azkaban and was at large. It was reported that with Head Auror Helena Weasley, having just left Europe the day before with her husband, on a vacation, the ministry had called in her second in command Auror Damian Halsbury along with a host of hit-wizards and witches to find, capture, and if possible, apprehend the escaped fugitives alive but were authorized to kill if necessary. With those orders, they set out to find and trace Dolohov's' movements but seeing as how he had had close to forty-nine, almost fifty years to orchestrate and execute his escape, it was a near impossible task and unfortunately when they did catch up to him, it was already too late.
He went for the older Weasleys first. Like a ghost in the night, a wraith of vengeance and madness, he snuck into the Burrow. Knowing that all of the Weasleys other than the parents had left the home many years ago to start their own families. While his accomplices kept watch outside to make sure no one escaped or approached the house, Dolohov crept up the stairs, having already bypassed the defense wards surrounding the small cottage-like house. After making it to the bedroom all the aurors could tell was that it had been a blood bath. The once pristine walls covered in cute flowery wallpaper was now a scene straight out of a horror film.
Strips and splashes of blood littered the walls and caked the floors so red that you would never be able to tell that they hadn't always been that color. The curtains, that hung over a clear window that overlooked beautiful slopping hills and luscious greenery, seemed to be in contrast with the picturesque scene outside its view, with how ripped and shredded they were as Mrs. Weasley's headless body, and grasping fingers clung to the skirts of the drapes. It seemed as if, in her final moments she had tried to escape only to be attacked from behind. Still lying in a bed of his own blood, Mr. Weasley was in no better shape having been stupefied beforehand and forced to watch his wife be murdered before being tortured to death himself. The scene was so gruesome that some of the newer recruits on the team of investigators had had to leave to not contaminate the crime scene with their sickness. Truly it had been a horrific scene but sadly, as they soon came to find out where Dolohov and his men were going, was not the worst of it.
In truth, the older Weasley seemed to have gotten the gentler of deaths because as the aurors and hit-witches and wizards moved to the residences of the other Weasleys as well as their close friends such as Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Teddy Lupin, the Lovegoods, and the Longbottoms, it became more and more depraved. The worst were the children's bodies, for even they weren't spared in what would soon become the one of the worst serial killing sprees in wizarding history. After their allies and parents, it seems that Dolohov hunted each and every person bearing the name Weasley, Potter, or Granger down. Until finally it came down to Hermione Granger who had been watching Helena's grandchildren for her since her children, James, Liliana and their spouses, had decided to visit their uncle George and his family the day before. However, after receiving a desperate dragon shaped Patronus from Liliana late that night detailing the escape of Dolohov, the killing spree he had wrought on their families as well as the death of her Muggle parents, husband, sons, and their children.
Her patronus had then gone on to detail how after arriving at George's door and finding him, his wife, daughter, and grandson dead with Antonin and ten other infamous Dark wizards surrounding them; James, in his fury, had lit the entire house on fire, killing three of his followers, one of which had killed his wife, Mariana, before they realized what was going on, before succumbing to a fatal curse aimed at his heart by Dolohov himself while he had been busy fighting off two other wizards. Liliana had been facing off against Samuel Malfoy, a distant cousin of Lucius and Draco Malfoy from one of the branch families, while her husband, Maelorian Longbottom distracted the other four, two of which made it through his defenses, when he had been distracted by James's death, killing him instantly. However, upon witnessing her brother and husband's deaths at the same time, Lily had lost control of her magic killing everyone except for Dolohov who had escaped in the nick of time. And, while she had been distracted with killing his underlings had struck her from behind plunging his knife into her left lung before she had managed to retaliate by burning half his face off with a well-placed, powerful Fire-Making Charm. But before it could overtake him, the dark wizard had apparated away, leaving Liliana there to slowly bleed out.
However, in her final moments she figured that the last place he would go, would be to finish off what he had started and kill the last Potter and Weasleys left, her children, nieces, and nephews. So, after sending her godmother, Aunt Hermione, her patronus message, in which Liliana begged her to get the children to safety and to send Uncle Sirius, the last surviving ally they had in the country, to take and hide their children and to notify her parents of what has happened and their love for them, Lily, still covered in the blood of her enemies, barely alive, and struggling to breath, crawled to her brother's dead body, grabbed his hand, and finally with a prayer of love and sorrow for her mother and father and the pain they were soon to endure, Liliana Longbottom nee Potter-Weasley, daughter of Fred and Helena Potter-Weasley, breathed her last in the cold embrace of her beloved twin brother.
Upon receiving this news, Hermione, after minutes that felt like centuries of going through the 12 stages of grief in such a brief span of time, hardened her resolve and gathered the children, the last remaining Potters, Weasleys, and Longbottoms and port keyed them to Sirius's vacation home in the Bahamas where he had retreated to two years prior after his 83rd birthday. With a note detailing what had happened and a request to tell Helena and Fred as soon as possible, Hermione waited, wand in hand, knowing that she would soon be able to avenge her children and family or die trying.
The battle was intense.
Almost 70 percent of the forest surrounding Helena and Fred's home was decimated. Dolohov, still suffering second and third degree burn wounds from his fight with Liliana Longbottom, nearly died at least seven times during his battle against Hermione Granger and it was no wonder why she retained her title of Brightest Witch of Her Age, even at the age of 67 and well past her prime, as well as former Minister of Magic. Looking at the aftermath of this battle, no one had to wonder how she was able to stand on par with the Savior of the Wizarding World. The woman had been ruthless, merciless, and deadly. Every one of her attacks were meant to kill and the only reason she had been defeated was because of her ailing body as she had started to grow sick and wary in her later years, this being one of the reasons she had passed the mantle of Minister of Magic to her protégé Edmund Massey, a young, Muggleborn prodigy and former Slytherin graduate.
In the end, she was able to deal a grievous wound to Dolohov by sending off a powerful Fiendfyre in the shape of a roaring lion that rocked the very earth asunder before her body, unable to handle the amount of magic she had used and released during the battle, finally gave out under the stress. However, while Dolohov was able to dodge some of the spell's worst effects, even he wasn't able to fully divert the truly enormous consequences of the spell and ended up losing his left arm, leg, and face that had already taken damage from Lily, completely. At this point the only thing keeping him alive was his magic, however, he noticed in his panic, was starting to run low.
Realizing that his time was limited, Dolohov, after having shifted through Hermione's memories before the battle began and realizing she had sent the children away, he had decided to begrudgingly abandon the idea of finally killing off all of Helena's remaining family and instead focused on finding where the Deathly Hallows had been stashed. After all, who else would Helena Potter have trusted more than her best friend. Especially since after going through Ron's memories, earlier, Dolohov had realized that Helena had never told Ron where she had hid the powerful weapons and had only mentioned that they were somewhere safe when brought up in conversation.
Clearly, she had the right of it, Dolohov snorted derisively, I wouldn't have trusted that idiot with anything of that importance either. Moron never even attempted to further question its whereabouts despite an entire war being fought over them and their ability to grant eternal life. No, he was more obsessed with stuffing his face, Quidditch, and fucking his wife than anything else. Morons, the lot of them. Still, he turned his blood filled eye, the one not burnt to a near crisp, on the dead body of Hermione Granger, a small glimmer of something like reluctant respect shinning in his pitch black orbs, a shame really that you were born the way you were, truly for a Mudblood you were exquisite, if only you had been a pure-blood then perhaps we could have… well mayhaps in another life. The gods only know that you deserved better than that pathetic, man-child Weasley.
With that in mind, Dolohov resolved that only after obtaining the Deathly Hallows and his promised immortality would he then come back to finish the job he had started with the Potter family. Now he had to make his way, to the Hawaiian island, that housed the active volcano, Kilauea, seeing as how, apparently, according to Hermione's memories, despite their close friendship, Helena Potter hadn't told her beloved sister in everything but blood where she hid the Deathly Hallows either. Only Helena and her husband knew where they were located, however, Hermione, wary and afraid of the potential of the Hallows falling into the wrong hands, had looked into the matter herself and found out where Helena had stashed the items by narrowing down the places in the Magical and Muggle world that would be able to conceal that much raw power from outside forces. Her trail had led her to the base of the volcano and after conducting her own tests had been satisfied with the protections placed around the items and left them alone. Using this information, Dolohov was able to portkey to one of the Hawaiian Islands closest to the volcano and stow away in the bowels of a ship the rest of the way.
Upon arriving Dolohov noticed that the volcano seemed to be on the verge of erupting. Realizing that he was running out of time because he wouldn't be able to make it to the site of the alter if molten lava was actively pouring around its base, Antonin hurried as fast as his mottled, and addled body would allow in the direction of the alter.
However, prior to him making his way onto the island, Helena and Fred, only 30 minutes away on a different island, finally got Sirius's message about everything that had happened in their absence. Struck with horror, grief, and sorrow, Helena had screamed a horrible gut-wrenching cry that seemed to encompass only part of the depths of her despair. Her cries were so viscous that they drew blood from her throat while her perfectly manicured nails drew sharp lines into her scalp from how hard she was pulling at her hair.
Her children, her beloved babies, her little miracles, dead.
Her friends and family gone, gone, gone. Why?!, she thought viscously, helplessly, why again? Why me? What had she ever done but what she was born to do (forced to do), what was expected of her, she had given so much, everything she had and everything she didn't, and still Fate seemed to constantly deny her, her happiness.
Lost and suffocating in her depression, a hand reached for her and enclosed her in a surprising warmth. One she knew, would always know. For he was with her from the beginning and would be there with her in the end. In the darkness, her mind torn to shreds, her will to live hanging on a tread of only the knowledge that her grandchildren and husband still lived, her husband held her through the worst of it. Giving her strength when she had none, and reminding her that there was one last thing they had to do before they met their children, his brother, and all their families and friends in the afterlife.
"One more time, my love. Only one more. For our grandchildren and the world, we will leave for them." her husband said eyes full of mutual suffering and too much love for one person to hold.
"Okay. One More. Will you be there when this is all over?" Helena said, but Fred wasn't stupid; he knew his wife better than even she. He new what she was really asking him, as if there had ever been any other possibility. Will you come with me? Will you stay with me till the end?
"Always, Always and Forever" Fred said, kissing her wrinkled forehead, while looking into her grass-green eyes, as beautiful as the day he first truly looked into them, that day on the snowy porch and the starlight sky, decades younger, foolish, and free.
"Always and Forever" Helena repeated with knowing eyes and a full heart.
Just as they were about to get their wands from their hotel suite and apparate to the island Helena hid the Deathly Hallows in a dragon, a massive Hebridean Black the size of three football fields put next to each other and taller that most mountains, came and stopped in front of them. Helena, due to being a parseltongue, with the ability to hear, understand, and talk to snakes, lizards, and most animals that encompass that category of reptiles, and really, Fred thought with some amusement, what were dragons other than fire breathing lizards with wings, so she asked why it had stopped instead of staying with the other dragons on the island that seemed to not pay their visitors any mind except when Helena would start conversations with them. Mostly about when dinner would be or how her aura felt nice, like a living volcano.
According to Helena, the Hebridean Black, apparently named the Cannibal, due to the fact that, when agitated he had the tendency to eat some of the other dragons in the reserve before the dragon keepers gave him his own space in the reserve away from the other dragons via spatial magic, had only said that the Song calls and that he will take her where the Song awaits her answer, for they shall burn together.
And despite the dubious nature of those words, that sounded suspiciously like a foreshadowing of things to come, before Helena could tell him more the earth began to shake. Pausing briefly, both Fred and Helena looked at each other, however it was Helena that voiced what they had both been thinking beforehand.
"He's activated the safety precaution I installed into the volcano. If anyone were to disrupt the altar that wasn't me or someone the objects deem worthy of being their wielder then the volcano would erupt and set everything ablaze including the people living off land if not stopped in time. We need to go! No matter what Dolohov might think its not just about possessing those items that makes one the Master of Death, Death itself has to judge you worthy and clearly, they don't deem Dolohov worthy. He will die! But if we don't make it to the volcano in time, he'll drag everyone down with him, Muggle and Magical both! The Volcano won't stop flowing until someone worthy sacrifices themselves to the god of death as payment for the slight against their chosen favored."
"Then let's go, we're running out of time" Fred stated with a look around as he heard people screaming in the distance and Muggles and Magicals pointed at the angry-looking volcano erupting before its predicted date and the sound of Muggle sirens going off encouraging people to evacuate the island.
And so, with a quick Accio, Helena summoned their wands and hopped on the back of the single largest dragon she had ever seen and with a quick demand in Latin to fly they were off to the volcano to finish off Dolohov and stop the destruction the volcano threatened to reap.
Flying on the back of a Hebridean Black, death closing in on them from all directions, Fred kept a steady arm wrapped around his wife as she navigated expertly through the air as if she were born to ride a dragon as massive and vast as the very sky itself, casting shadows upon the world below. By now the volcano had already erupted and was spitting out volcanic ash and molten lava rocks and boulders the size of buildings crushing homes and people unfortunate enough not to have evacuated in time. Even so far in the air, they could still hear the screams of dying souls and fearful prayers. Fred wasn't going to lie. He was afraid. Afraid of dying, sure, but moreso of the fact that if they didn't stop this their beautiful grandchildren, the only thing they had left of their precious children, would die with them. It was this thought, he knew, more than saving innocent people and the world, was one of the driving forces for Helena's mad dash to the volcano site.
Finally, they made it to the base of Kilauea, landing the Cannibal several paces from where they could see a hysterical, spitting mad, half-burnt Antonin Dolohov pacing back and forth wearing the invisibility cloak, with the resurrection stone and elder wand in each hand.
As they made their way closer, they could start to pick up snippets of what he was screaming so aggressively about.
"Why?! Why isn't it working? This is my destiny, my right! I have all the items in my possession and yet still I'm refused my power. Answer to your master, Death! I command you to give me life eternal. I possess all your gifts and am pureblooded, not sullied by the filth of the Muggles. There is no one greater, more worthy of your blessing and servitude! It should be m-"
"They won't answer your call", Helena interrupted his self-absorbed ranting, voice full of loathing and hatred many didn't believe the Girl-Who-Lived could ever possess, as gentle-hearted as she had always been, even to her enemies. But this, this was different. He had killed her children, her kin, and had threatened the lives of her beloved grandchildren. There was no forgiveness in her heart for him. No hell that he could escape to that she wouldn't follow just to torture and bring him back again. This much Fred knew, with the same surety he knew that he would do the same as well. By her side, like always.
"You!" Dolohov snarled loudly spit flying from his forming mouth, hate-filled eyes mad with insanity and wrath.
"You wretched half-blooded whore. This is your fault! You're the reason Death refuses to accept me as their master!" He pauses then something dreadful creeping into his expression. And then he utters the words that solidify his fate with a single breath.
"No worries though, my dear, I will simply kill you and your husband the same way I killed your children. And when I achieve immortality at last, once I have proven to the gods that I deserve this gift, I shall hunt down that retched blood traitor, Sirus Black, and finish off the rest of your get."
And with those words Helena, Fred, and Antonin locked into their last and fiercest battle against the forces of darkness. However, it was Helena, with Fred, watching her back that executed the final blow, with a well-placed Avada Kedavra, Helena finally killed the Former Death Eater, Antonin Dolohov. However, despite killing him the volcano continued to erupt, the molten lava had already made it past the sea, never once cooling, and from what she could sense with her magic had already reached and overtaken large parts of California. MACUSA officials were trying to put out the oncoming tidal wave of lava with magic but weren't getting far. They wouldn't either way, this wasn't something mere mortals could stop, even magical ones. This was Death's will a punishment and a price for misusing the gift he had bestowed upon humanity. No, Helena knew the only way to stop the lava from decimating the world, both Magical and Muggle was by taking up the mantle of Master of Death, herself. However, one thing that the magical world didn't realize was that the only way to truly achieve that title is to first accept death and everything that comes with it. Only by accepting your death, can you prove yourself worthy of such a coveted title. And while Helena had never wanted it, for her children, for her grandchildren, for her love, and for the world, she would take up the mantle of savior one more time. Looking into her husband's eyes she saw his understanding, acceptance, and unwavering love.
Suddenly she felt a pull, a call, a song coursing through her body, urging her to stay where she was lava and debris steadily making their way towards her and Fred near the mouth of the volcano where their fight had ended. Briefly she looked at the dragon, no, she could feel it now. Just like with Hedwig, she could tell that the Hebridean Black wasn't just any dragon, he was hers and she, his. With a look into his startling green eyes, eyes not typical of Hebridean Blacks, but that looked just like hers she finally understood his words from before.
The Song calls and he will take her where the Song awaits her answer, for they shall burn together.
Looking at the molten lava and ash spewing down towards them she finally understood and from Fred's face she could tell he did too. But before she could open her mouth and tell him to go, to leave her, to look after their grandchildren, he took her face in his hands and kissed her passionately, possessively, desperately. And this she understood too. With every breath they breathed as one, he let her know that he would never leave her. That they would die exactly how they had lived. Together. Always and Forever.
And so there they stayed in each other's arms, kissing with abandon, with smoke and fire headed towards them and the ice cold sea in the distance, the dark clouds blocking out the sun, and the world's largest dragon curled around their bodies in an intimate embrace. And that how their bodies died, solidified together due to the heat, ash, soot, and lava with Helena dressed in the symbols of the Master of Death. Together their immortalized forms emits a beautiful golden light almost like the Aurora Borealis touching solid earth and permeating through the darkness where they are joined together.
Hours later the when the lava begins to cool and retreat from the Californian shores and people, both Muggle and Magical, go to investigate the sight of the eruption they come upon this heavenly sight of love and devotion, and while the Muggles don't understand the depth of what might have brought this about, everyone can feel the aura of love and sacrifice that the two signify, and can tell that whatever else happened on this island, those two lovers were the reason for their victory. And so, as time goes on they clean up the island and the surrounding islands, they fix up the parts of California that were destroyed during the eruption, but more than all of that they leave the statue right there at the base of the volcano as a memorial to the two heroes of the world, and at the base of their statue that will stand for centuries to come, seeing many Muggle and Magical visitors, tourists, and even their own descendants, the children of their grandchildren, reads this:
Here Lies, Helena Potter-Weasley and Fred Potter-Weasley
Daughter, Son, Mother, Father, Husband, Wife, Friend, Family, and Hero.
Together in love. Together in life. Together in Death.
May their Fire Burn as Bright in Death as it Did in Life.
Always and Forever.
/Vi0LCRtU7Ow
