"Merlin's beard, that's hideous."

I looked up to meet Fred's eyes with a glare on my own face. I was sitting crossed legged on my—well, Charlie's—bed. I still felt funny calling anything in this room mine, even if I'd been sleeping in it for weeks now and even if Charlie didn't live here anymore.

I had worked on my scarf for an hour with Mrs. Weasley the night before and then had continued working on it this morning while I waited for Fred and George to be ready to leave. It had been what I was doing when Fred had knocked on the door just now. Perhaps the scarf was a bit lumpy and uneven and perhaps some of the stitches were looser than others, but surely it wasn't hideous. And it was my first one! I deserved to be cut a little slack.

"It's not hideous," I said through gritted teeth. "It's endearing."

"It's hideous," Fred declared with a chuckle and a smile as he came to sit down on the edge of my bed.

"I'm sorry you think so," I said, wrapping another bit of yarn around a needle. "I was knitting it for you."

Fred snorted a laugh. "Funny," he commented.

"I'm serious," I told him calmly, a smile turning up a corner of my mouth.

"Mum already started teaching you?" Fred asked, jerking his chin towards the scarf.

I nodded. "Last night. I went to go talk to her and thank her for letting me leave the house today and she was knitting a hat for Victoire."

"By hand or with magic?" Fred asked.

"By hand," I replied. "Why?"

Fred didn't answer, so I looked up to see him watching my hands move clumsily around the needles with a hint of worry etched on his face.

"What?" I asked, stopping what I was doing and lowering my hands to my lap. "Are you afraid I'm going to accidentally stab myself with the knitting needles?"

Fred let out a breath of laughter. "I'm more worried about you accidentally stabbing me in my handsome face."

"The needles are nowhere near your face," I answered.

"Anything can happen," Fred told me with a shrug. "Especially when someone's as awful at knitting as you are."

"Keep talking and I will stab you with a needle," I muttered, frowning at him. When he didn't answer, I raised an eyebrow. "So, go on, tell me what the issue really is. What does it matter if your mother was knitting by hand or with magic?"

"It's just that...she's nervous," Fred answered, meeting my eyes. "She'll knit by hand every now and again when she has time, but she always does when she's nervous about something."

"She did say it keeps her mind occupied," I whispered.

Fred nodded. "Exactly. I don't want you to feel guilty though. I know you're going to go ahead and say you really shouldn't have been involving us in this mess and putting us in danger and all that nonsense, but we've all decided to be a part of this on our own so don't say a word and do not try to back out again. Besides, Mum's just as worried about you as she is the rest of us. Like I've said, she's got a thing for parentless children." He nudged my knee and gave me a smile as I fiddled with the small square of yarn that was the beginning of a scarf.

"Thank you for doing this," I finally whispered, looking up at him. "For helping me."

"Don't mention it," Fred answered. "I needed some excitement in my life. Things were getting a little dull." He sent me a wry smile and I actually let out a laugh.

"Don't say that," I said. "I don't think anything could ever possibly be dull with you."

Fred smiled at me for a moment before standing up. "Ready to go?" He asked.

I nodded and set aside my knitting before standing up as well. "Let's do it," I said, nervously smoothing down the front of my shirt.

Fred reached out for my hand and I found myself taking it, letting him lead me from the room and down the stairs.

George was waiting in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed.

"It's about time," he commented lightly. His eyes traveled to my and Fred's clasped hands and he immediately looked back up at Fred with a questioning smirk and a raised eyebrow. I quickly slipped my hand out of Fred's and stuck both hands in my pockets as I cleared my throat.

"Let's get going," I said, glancing towards the door.

Fred and George looked at each other and shrugged, before calling to their mother that we were leaving. She appeared a moment later and gave us all hugs goodbye. She squeezed me tightly to her and I smiled slightly against her shoulder.

"Be safe," she told us. "Promise you will."

"We will, Mum," George assured her. "You don't have to worry."

"Of course I do," she said. She turned to me. "But do say hello to Tom and Martha for me and give them my best."

"I will," I assured her.

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Go on," she finally said. "I know you must be anxious to see them."

She saw us to the door and called after us once more to be safe as we headed down the front path.

I turned and looked at her over my shoulder as we reached the front gate and Fred unlatched it. We'd have to keep walking to the end of the lane in order to reach the edge of the protection charms, and then we'd Apparate to the alleyway just to the left of the Leaky Cauldron. I had wondered if it would be easier to use to Floo and arrive directly from the inside of the Burrow to the inside of the Leaky Cauldron, but part of the protection charms around the house meant that the Floo was shut down.

"You okay?" Fred asked me as we began walking down the dirt path.

"Yeah," I said, snapping out of my thoughts. "You know, I was just wondering...what if this is all for nothing? What if we don't even run into Mystery Woman anywhere? We don't exactly have a plan. We're just hoping she shows up or comes to us, which isn't exactly reliable."

Fred smiled. "True, but George and I both have a feeling she might show up."

"Why do you think that?" I asked curiously.

The twins looked at each other before Fred turned back to me. "Well...you kind of disappeared for a bit."

"Right," I said slowly. When Fred didn't continue, I looked between him and George in confusion. "I'm not sure I understand what you're getting at."

"For her to keep popping up where you were," George began, "and the fact that she seemed to inconspicuously slip you something each time-the necklace, the postcard, the diary-"

"We don't know if she gave me the diary," I protested. "Besides, why would she show herself for the necklace and the postcard, but not the diary?"

"Maybe she was afraid," Fred said. "Also, she probably didn't plan on being noticed. And when we saw her in the joke shop, she tried to run away at first, remember?"

"Yeah because you basically chased her down," I said.

Fred shrugged. "She probably was planning on slipping you that postcard without anyone noticing."

"Anyway," George went on. "The point is that everything she's done seems strategic."

"As if she's been following me and watching me," I said. "In order to know where I am so she can keep slipping me all these crazy objects related to my past." I felt goosebumps appear on my arms as a chill went down my spine and I shivered slightly.

"Right," George said almost apologetically. "And since you've disappeared, we think she's probably keeping an extra close eye out for you, waiting for you to show up. You've raised suspicions by disappearing. Of course, she could have thought you'd finally moved on and went to another city or country, which could be good news normally, but not for today. Today, we need her here."

I sighed and chewed on my lip. I was sure they'd both seen me shiver and when Fred took my hand again and gave it a squeeze, I knew I was right.

"It's okay," he said. "Like we've told you, we're not letting you out of our sight today. You're safe-if anyone tries anything, we're ready and you're not alone."

"What if Eric shows up and tries to threaten the joke shop or your customers?" I asked.

"We'll handle it," Fred said with a shrug. "We're not afraid of him. Death Eaters have already destroyed the shop once and we reopened it to an even bigger crowd than the first time. One Muggle man can't do any worse damage than that."

"Death Eaters destroyed it during the war?" I asked sympathetically.

"Yeah. Not with us inside, luckily," George said. "We'd had to abandon it shortly before to go into hiding at our great aunt's house. We were already being tracked by Death Eaters and long story short, it just became safest for us to go into lockdown."

"But we ran an owl order business from the attic of Aunt Muriel's house," Fred went on. "Had to keep getting people's source of laughter to them somehow."

"And people still ordered things?" I asked. "In the middle of all that was happening? And despite the mail being fairly unsafe?"

Fred nodded. "Surprisingly, yes, people still ordered products. I think people needed a laugh so much that they were willing to take any risks with the mail and I think some people also thought if it came down to it, they could use some of the products against Death Eaters."

"Joke products?" I asked in surprise. "Against Death Eaters?"

Fred nodded. "We did invent a line of outerwear laced with protection charms just for the purpose of the war. But people wanted other things too. Like the Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, for example. Or trick wands for when the Death Eaters came asking for real ones. People wanted our Skiving Snackboxes and Ton-Tongue Toffees to attempt to trick Death Eaters into eating them."

"Or people would eat them themselves and proceed to vomit or bleed all over their attacker," George went on. "Some bought fireworks to alert others to their location if they needed to, and people also bought a lot of Muggle tricks, thinking they'd catch the Death Eaters off guard with something they'd know even less about than actual magic joke products. The itching powder was a sensation."

"That's amazing," I said. "Truly. Even during a period when you'd think it was the worst time for jokes-"

"There's never a bad time for jokes," Fred said.

"Yes there is," I argued.

"There's always a time for a tactful and well thought out joke," Fred said.

I was quiet as I thought that over for a moment. Maybe he was right. I couldn't say I had much experience with tactful jokes, only mean ones. And of course that would lead me to believe there was never a good time for them.

"Besides the jokes, though," I finally said, looking up at Fred and George, "it sounds like your products also saved some lives."

"Yeah, I guess they did," Fred said with a smile and a tiny shrug.

"Fred, don't downplay it," I told him. "You said that jokes made you angry after Percy died and you'd questioned loving them so much. But look at how many people you helped by doing what you do. Your products aren't just for pranks and laughs, but they were used for self defense in a war. And they worked!"

"Yeah, they did," Fred said tensely. "I just wish they could have saved Percy's life."

I sighed and stuck my hands in my pockets again as I looked at the ground. Suddenly, I remembered I still had Percy's Head Boy badge at the Burrow. I'd meant to give it to Fred, but with Kingsley's recent visit, my theory that Eric had disguised himself as Noah, and now trying to find the Mystery woman, I hadn't had the chance. I'd have to do it once we got back later.

Before I could say anything else about Percy or the joke shop, the three of us had reached the end of the lane and Fred was slipping his hand into mine again.

"Ready?" he asked.

I inhaled slowly before letting it out. "Yeah," I whispered.

Fred gave my hand a quick squeeze and a second later, we had Apparated and appeared in the alley beside the Leaky Cauldron. George appeared a second later and led the way to the end of the alley, where he poked his head out and looked both ways.

"Coast is clear," he announced.

The three of us walked out into the street, keeping ourselves calm, casual and inconspicuous to anyone who might walk by. When we reached the front door of the pub, George pushed open the door and led the way inside.

I actually found myself relaxing slightly as I entered the building. I'd spent so much of my time here-well, actually all of my time up until recently-and it felt so familiar that it made me feel better. It made me feel at home. Because it was home at this point.

Since it was only a little after eight in the morning, the dining area was quiet, with only three guests quietly eating their breakfasts. It was honestly just the way I preferred it. It was a lot nicer than the busy dinner rushes. And a part of me was still mortified from my short lived experience as a waitress.

"Come on," Fred said, leading me back towards the kitchens. As we got closer, I heard the clattering of pots, pans and dishes, in addition to the sounds of voices.

When we reached the kitchen door, I dropped Fred's hand and stepped forward to peer inside. Kyle was at the stove, making some scrambled eggs, while bacon sizzled in a second pan on the same stove, magically flying out of the pan when it was done, as uncooked bacon floated into it to take the place of the cooked pieces.

Rachel, Kayla and Allie were in another corner, talking amongst themselves. Rachel was holding a compact mirror up to her face with one hand and applying mascara with the other, while Allie was adjusting her apron and Kayla was stifling a yawn behind her hand.

"If Martha catches you with that crap out in the kitchen, she's going to lose it," Kyle called over to Rachel and jerking his chin at the mascara. "Honestly, couldn't you have done that before you came to work?"

"I did," she argued. "It's called a touch up, Kyle. Honestly, have you not learned anything from your wife after being married for so long?"

"A kitchen is not the place for it," Kyle said. "Put it away."

Rachel sighed loudly before slipping the mascara and the mirror into her bag that was hanging from a hook in the corner. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," she grumbled.

"Hey, hey, knock it off, you two," Kayla chided. "It's too early in the morning for bickering." The toaster on the counter suddenly popped out four perfect pieces of toast and Kayla hopped up onto the counter and snagged two pieces before reaching behind her for a knife and some jam. "However, it is never too early for toast," she said as she smeared jam on one of the slices of bread.

Kyle sent her a weary look. "Off the counter," he said.

"Off course," Kayla replied, hopping off the counter. "Anything for the King of the Kitchen."

"The kitchen is supposed to be a very sanitary place," Kyle insisted. "It is not the place for makeup or sitting on counters. Tom and Martha would agree with me and you know it. So follow the rules." He smiled before lightly swatting at Kayla with a dishtowel.

"You know that request is just going to fall on deaf ears, right?" Allie snorted as Kayla rolled her eyes.

"It's not going to stop me from requesting it," Kyle shrugged.

"You should save your breath," Kayla muttered through a mouthful of toast, crumbs falling everywhere.

"Merlin, Kay," Rachel groaned, passing her a napkin as she walked past. "How ladylike."

"You know you love me!" Kayla cackled, dusting off her hands exaggeratedly in Rachel's direction as Rachel squealed with disgust and ducked away.

I smiled from where I was leaning against the doorframe and couldn't help myself from letting out a giggle. I hadn't realized just how much I'd missed this until I was back watching it.

My laugh alerted everyone in the room to my presence and it went suddenly silent and still as they stared at me in shock. I felt my face heat up and I knew I was flushed completely red. I suddenly felt extremely nervous. Here I was, after weeks of being on lockdown after Noah had been found murdered-possibly by someone who was after me-and I didn't know where I even stood with anyone. What had they been saying and thinking about me in the past few weeks? Would they have blamed me? Would they have talked about me while I was gone? Made fun of me? I suddenly didn't know what to say. There was so much to say. Simply saying hi wouldn't even begin to cover it, but that was what came out of my mouth anyway.

"Hi," I breathed out, giving a tiny wave. Merlin, I was embarrassing.

"Sophie!" Rachel breathed out. And then to my surprise, she surged forward and threw her arms around me. I actually jumped a bit, but then found myself hugging her back.

"Um, hi," I said. "It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you!" Rachel said, pulling away and taking both of my hands in hers. I was surprised for the second time when I saw tears in her eyes. "How are you? After everything that happened, I didn't even get the chance to talk to you. You must be devastated about Noah. And then I heard that some guy from the Ministry was asking questions as if he thought you had something to do with it! How ridiculous-honestly, the nerve of him to even imply that. You would never!"

I took a breath as I tried to take in all that she was saying. "I should be asking you how you are," I said, diverting the conversation away from me. I also had to ask about how she was doing before anything else. I'd been unable to stop thinking about her and how she must have been feeling since Noah's death. If I'd been distraught, she had it so much worse. "I heard that you were having a hard time. I'm so sorry, Rach. I know you and Noah were close. I don't know what else to say except I'm sorry and I know that doesn't do anything, but-"

"It means a lot," Rachel said, letting go of my hands to swipe at her eyes. She let out a watery laugh. "Great, now my mascara is going to smudge."

"Oh, sweet Merlin," Kyle groaned. When I turned to face him, he finished plating the eggs he was making and came over to hug me. "Hi, Mouse." He stepped back and held me at arm's length, studying me. "Seriously, how've you been?"

"Okay," I shrugged.

"The Weasleys taking good care of you?" Kyle asked, glancing up at the doorway, where the twins were still standing.

"The greatest care," I said, turning to smile at the twins, who smiled back and stepped into the room.

As they both greeted Kyle, I was joined by Allie and Kayla who came over to hug me as well.

"So, what's been going on?" Allie asked quietly. "Like Rachel said, we didn't get a chance to talk to you that night. You passed out and then you were gone. Tom and Martha just said you were going to the Burrow, but they had mentioned you were leaving even before you found Noah. And then we overheard Martha ranting about how rude that Ministry wizard was to you."

I took in a deep breath before letting it out through my nose. Where to even begin? I finally decided to start with the night I'd been attacked at Noah's house and go over everything from there. I didn't hold anything back, which was another slight surprise.

"I feel like it's my fault," I said quietly, leaning back against the counter and staring down at my shoes.

"It's not," Rachel assured me quietly. "Even if Eric did kill Noah, it's not your fault."

"I led Eric here," I said. "And I still can't help but wonder, in the back of my mind, whether or not it's going to be one of you next. Or Tom, or Martha, or one of the Weasleys. It feels so good to not be going about this alone, but two innocent people have already died. Noah and his mother. I just...don't know what to do."

"Exactly what you've been doing," Rachel said. "We can handle ourselves."

I looked up at her. "I was afraid you'd blame me," I whispered. "Noah was one of your best friends."

Rachel looked at me sadly. "I was-am-heartbroken. Of course I am. I'm healing, but it's only been a few weeks. But I do not blame you. It's not your fault."

"But if I hadn't even come here in the first place-"

"You would've ended up somewhere else and it would've been another person who Eric got to. Or you would've kept moving and exhausted yourself and he would've gotten you. If you didn't die of starvation first." She shrugged. "I'm glad you came here." A slow smile spread over her face. "You needed us, Sophie. Face it."

"Are you saying I can't take care of myself?" I asked, half teasing.

"No, of course not," she said. "You just needed some proper cooking, some proper clothes and some proper friends."

I smiled and wiped away the few stray tears that had pooled in my eyes. "I've really missed you all," I whispered. "I even missed the bickering."

"We've missed you too," Allie said, pulling me into another hug.

"How are things otherwise?" I asked.

"The usual, actually," Kayla said. "As you saw."

"Tom and Martha miss you," Allie said softly.

I felt an odd ache in my chest at her words. I'd missed them too and I wondered about them all the time. But I also found myself smiling almost wryly at Allie. "Okay, Martha I can understand, but did you say that Tom missed me?"

"Shocking, isn't it?" a voice said from behind me. I turned around to see Tom himself standing at the foot of the kitchen stairs and I broke into a smile.

"Hi, Tom," I said.

He made his way over to me, looking me up and down. "You look good," he said, reaching out and awkwardly patting my shoulder. "Healthy. No surprise there. I'm sure Molly's been taking wonderful care of you."

I nodded. "Of course."

Tom cleared his throat and continued to stare at me, looking unsure of what else to say. "Martha will be glad to see you. She'll be down in a minute."

"How is she? How are you?" I asked.

"Okay," Tom shrugged. "You know...it's been quiet around here since you've left. Not that you were ever noisy. Not in the least, actually. But I'd grown quite used to having you around. I'm glad to see you're doing well, though." He cleared his throat again and shuffled his feet a bit.

"Thanks, Tom." I smiled again. I'd known Tom long enough to understand what he was trying to say and I appreciated it. He was never good with feelings or words but it felt good to know that he'd grown to care about me, just as I'd grown to care about him.

Just then, I heard Martha's footsteps on the stairs. "Is that Sophie's voice I heard?"

I looked over my shoulder just as she appeared at the bottom of the stairs. She beamed excitedly and rushed over to hug me. I let her, actually feeling good with her arms around me. That was the thing about Martha. She gave the best hugs and always knew how to make you feel warm, loved, safe and protected with just her arms around you.

The next few minutes were a bit of a blur as I was asked question after question about how I'd been doing and how things were at the Burrow and that I shouldn't have risked anything by coming to see them, but they were glad I did. It was almost overwhelming. But eventually, Tom, Martha, Rachel, Kayla and Allie had to get back to work and the kitchen suddenly quieted down.

I let out a breath and looked up to meet Kyle's eyes, who was the only other person in the room with me now.

"Fred and George went and found a table," he said. "They're going to eat breakfast and I figured you'd be joining them." He smiled at me as he gestured to the eggs he was making. "Two eggs, scrambled with cheese and a side of bacon?"

"You remembered," I said with a smile.

"Yeah, I might just be a little fond of you, Mouse. Don't let it go to your head." He leaned over and ruffled my hair. "Now go on, go sit down and enjoy the fact that you get to sit and relax while one of the girls serves you breakfast."

"I hope it's Kayla," I joked, knowing she'd be the one who would at least pretend to be bitter over the fact that for today-the first time since I'd arrived here, actually-I was a customer.

Kyle laughed before shooing me out of the room. It took me only a few seconds to locate Fred and George, sitting at a table in one of the front corners of the pub, near a window. They were talking in low voices, but when I got closer, Fred looked up and saw me, his mouth turning up into a smile.

"Hey," he said as I slid into the seat across from him and next to George. "Sorry for leaving you to come sit down, but we figured we'd leave you alone to catch up with everyone."

"It's okay," I said.

"We did take the liberty of getting you a glass of orange juice, though," George said, gesturing to the glass in front of me. "We didn't know what you wanted, but we've seen you drinking orange juice at the Burrow, so we figured it was a safe bet."

"I love orange juice," I said with a smile. "It's my favorite, actually."

"Fred likes it, too," George said, gesturing to Fred, who also had a glass of the same juice in front of him. "Personally, I can't stand the stuff." He made a face and pretended to gag.

"You're weird, then," I teased. "It's the best."

"Agreed," Fred said, picking up his glass and tilting it towards me. I picked up my own and clinked it against his before taking a big sip.

"It was really nice to see everyone again," I said, after a moment, drumming my fingers against my glass of orange juice. "Thank you both for doing this."

"If you thank us one more time..." Fred threatened with a laugh.

I smiled and turned to gaze out the window as I slowly turned my glass in my hand. There was so much going through my head at the moment and so many things I wanted the answers to that I couldn't even focus on one thing-or even a handful of things. If I got the opportunity today to talk to this Mystery Woman, where would I even begin? Would she stay and talk to me? Would she give me answers or simply be as cryptic as last time and then run away? I thought she owed me at least something at this point. She had slipped me a necklace that was referenced in a diary that she may or may not have also slipped me. The necklace made me invisible and essentially told me that I was related to Elizabeth and John Proctor. It was almost too much.

"What if she won't talk to me?" I suddenly asked quietly, turning back to the twins, my voice small sounding. "What if we don't even see her? As nervous as she makes me and as cautious as I am about her, I think not seeing her will disappoint me."

"I would imagine," Fred said, studying my face. "She's the only source of information you have at this point." He paused. "But I think we'll have to make her talk to you if she tries to run again."

I snorted. "What, you think we should tackle her to the ground and tie her up in the middle of Diagon Alley? That'll probably get us arrested, Fred."

"How daft do you think I am?" Fred asked. "I'm a little more strategic at getting what I want than that." He paused. "And I would never tackle a lady to the ground. Have you met the woman who raised me?" A slight smile turned up a corner of his mouth. "She'd never allow that to happen."

The corner of my mouth turned up at his comment. "Fine, so what's the plan?"

"Well...probably to start off being stern," Fred said with a shrug, glancing at his brother.

"And then if that doesn't work," George went on, "well..."

"Well what?" I looked back and forth between them, suddenly unsure if I was going to like what they were about to suggest.

"I know you probably won't be in favor," Fred said, "but it really all depends on how willing you are to get what you want."

"You said you weren't going to tackle anyone," I warned. "Or-or do anything violent or illegal. Or both."

Fred and George laughed. "We're not talking about violence, Soph," Fred said, still chuckling slightly. "No, I was going to say we'd play the sympathy card if we had to. You wouldn't happen to be able to cry on command, would you?"

I shot him a look. "No, I can't. And I wouldn't."

"Ah, well, that's all right," Fred said airily, flipping his hand nonchalantly. "George or I will just have to do it. It would just have a better effect if it was you crying."

I stared at him open-mouthed. "You two can cry on command?" I asked. "Just like that?"

"Surprised?" George asked, leaning back in his chair and raising an eyebrow at me as he took a sip from his mug of tea.

I thought about it for a moment. "Not at all, actually." I leaned back in my own chair and shook my head.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Fred asked, pretending to be insulted, and when I looked at him, he actually had tears in his eyes.

I laughed. "You two weren't kidding. You really can cry on command."

"Of course we weren't kidding, Soph. I'm hurt that you think so," Fred said, wiping his eyes. And then he flashed me a smile and just like that, the tears were gone and he was back to his usual self. "Being able to do that comes in handy, believe me."

"I thought you said people knew you well enough to not believe you if you played the sympathy card," I said.

"They do," Fred said. "But it works on people we don't know."

Just then, Kayla appeared at the end of our table, a plate of food in each hand, and one magically floating in front of her.

"I do hope you like being waited on," she said to me, a hint of a smile on her face that she managed to disguise after a second. "Enjoy it while it lasts because before you know it, you'll be back here doing your job with the rest of us."

"That was oddly uplifting," I said as she set down our food in front of us.

"Yeah, yeah, don't get used to it," Kayla said. She smiled for real and winked before turning on her heel and walking away.

"Would you look at that," Fred said thoughtfully, looking at me. "Even Kayla's positive you'll be staying here for good."

"I want to, Fred, believe me," I said. "I want to stay."

"You can't let someone like Eric chase you away from what you want," Fred argued before I could go on. "That just lets him win and gives him power."

"But what happens if he doesn't chase me away from what I want, but takes it away instead?" I asked quietly. "He's already started."

Fred looked at George, who gave him a small smile and shrugged before turning to me. "He can't take it if you don't let him."

When I didn't respond, he reached over and gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze before picking up his fork and digging into his eggs.

Sighing, I picked up my own fork and did the same, thinking to myself that while George gave good advice, it was advice that was way easier said than done.