Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the intellectual property associated with Harry Potter.
Hi all,
Here's the next chapter. Harry enters the final day of competition for the final three tasks, determined to take first place.
Chapter 81
Harry watched, his Demiguise form invisible, as Ivaylo fiddled with a small, peculiar device. The object, no larger than a snuff box, seemed to shimmer and shift, its surface rippling like quicksilver.
Ivaylo muttered an incantation, his wand tracing complex patterns over the device. Suddenly, the artifact became more fluid, its form malleable and mercurial, as if made of living metal.
Ivaylo flicked his wrist, sending the device skittering across the floor. It moved in an unusual, almost insect-like manner. Ivaylo followed it around the corner, and Harry was just a little behind. To Harry's horror, the device slipped under the door of his quarters, squeezing through the impossibly narrow gap.
Ivaylo glanced around furtively, his face a mask of guilt and fear. Satisfied that he hadn't been observed, he hurried away.
Harry waited until Ivaylo was well out of sight before returning to his human form. His thoughts raced as he contemplated the implications of what he'd just witnessed. Whatever that device was, it couldn't be anything good.
Without hesitation, he sprinted towards his grandfather's quarters. He burst through the door, startling Charlus, who was engaged in a quiet conversation with Sheena.
"Harry!" Charlus exclaimed, rising to his feet. "What on earth is the matter?"
"Ivaylo... he's planted a magical device in my room," Harry gasped.
Charlus' face darkened. "This is a serious accusation, Harry. Are you absolutely certain?"
Harry nodded. "I saw it with my own eyes, Grandfather. He didn't know I was there—I was in my Demiguise form."
Charlus rose from his seat. "Wait here," he ordered. "I will check out your room and see what this device is about."
Harry paced around the room, waiting anxiously for his grandfather. Two minutes later, he returned. Charlus held the magical device, now inert, in a conjured crystal box. Its surface was no longer fluid but had solidified into a complex geometric shape.
"There were traces of some toxic gas in your room," Charlus said, placing the box on the table.
Harry's eyes widened.
"I don't think it was lethal," Charlus assured him. "But it would have knocked you out for a couple of days, eliminating you from the competition."
Harry clenched his fists. "Is Ivaylo that desperate to win? Does this have anything to do with the conversation I overheard? I told you Andrei was shady."
Charlus nodded. "I should have paid more attention to the situation."
"We must inform the officials immediately," Sheena interjected. "This kind of cheating cannot be tolerated."
"Wait," Harry said, holding up a hand. He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "I... I don't want to get Ivaylo disqualified."
Charlus and Sheena exchanged a bewildered look.
"Harry," Charlus said slowly, "this boy has attempted to sabotage you. Why wouldn't you want him punished?"
Harry ran a hand through his unruly hair. "Because I want to beat him fair and square. If we report this now, he'll be kicked out of the competition, and everyone will say I only won because my rival was disqualified."
Charlus' expression softened slightly. "That's very noble of you, Harry, but he deserves to be disqualified for his actions."
"I know," Harry admitted. "But he's my closest competitor. We can hold off on alerting the guild. Then I could compete tomorrow without any interference, and still prove that I'm the better artisan."
Charlus grunted. "Are you sure you want to take this risk?"
Harry nodded, his green eyes blazing with determination. "I'm sure. I didn't come all this way to win by default. I want to earn this victory."
After a moment of silent communication between them, Charlus nodded.
"Very well," he said. "But we'll keep a close eye on both you and Ivaylo tomorrow."
"And," Sheena added, "if we see any sign of further foul play, we're reporting it immediately. Is that understood?"
Harry nodded.
Charlus fixed Harry with a piercing gaze. "You're taking quite a gamble, Harry. I hope you know what you're doing."
"So do I, Grandfather. This just makes the competition more interesting."
As his grandparents continued their hushed discussion, Harry found his attention drawn back to the crystal box containing the strange device. Curiosity overpowering caution, he leaned in for a closer inspection. The artifact was a far cry from anything he'd encountered before.
As he studied the device, Harry's mind raced with theories. Could this be some form of adaptive poison distributor? No, that was far too simple. The way it moved and altered its shape suggested a level of autonomy bordering on sentience.
He recalled the device's unsettling, insect-like movements and ability to squeeze through the minuscule gap under his door. Perhaps it was engineered to locate its target. But why resort to such elaborate measures? Surely there were simpler methods to achieve the same result?
The sheer complexity of the artifact deeply troubled Harry. This creation was leagues beyond Ivaylo's capabilities. Its creator possessed a dangerous, innovative brilliance. Harry longed to unravel its secrets, but that would necessitate removing it from its crystal prison, potentially reactivating it. He briefly considered using his Assimilate Runes skill to deconstruct the object and absorb its runic structure, but at its current level, it likely wouldn't yield a complete understanding.
"You'll stay here tonight," Charlus announced, interrupting Harry's musings. "I'm not willing to risk another incident."
"Alright," Harry agreed, carefully lifting the crystal box. "I'd like to keep this for further study. I promise not to remove it from the box. How did you know to use crystal to neutralise it?"
Charlus' expression became inscrutable. "I've encountered something similar to it before."
As Harry lay in bed that night, he held Galahad's pocket watch and turned it over in his hands. Its presence here was just another piece of an increasingly complicated puzzle. Galahad's influence seemed to touch everything, yet the man himself remained elusive. Maybe he could discreetly ask about him among the other artisans.
7th January
The morning sun streamed across the courtyard, casting long shadows across the faces of the gathered contestants. Harry stood at his workbench, his fingers drumming nervously. The events of the previous night still weighed heavily on his mind, but he forced himself to focus on the tasks ahead.
Anton Paasio's voice rang out. "Welcome, young artisans, to the final day of our competition. Today's tasks will push you to your limits, testing not just your knowledge and skills, but also your ability to think on your feet and apply your expertise in novel ways."
Harry's gaze shifted to Ivaylo, who sat rigidly in his seat, his face a mask of determination. He didn't acknowledge Harry's presence, perhaps surprised that his sabotage attempt had failed.
"Your first task," Anton said, "is a test of advanced magical integration. You will be presented with a complex magical scenario involving multiple interacting enchantments and artifacts. Your job is to analyse the scenario, identify potential conflicts and synergies, and propose a solution to optimise the entire system."
The scenario described a proposed magical transportation hub, integrating elements of Apparition, Portkey Travel, and Floo networks. Harry's mind began to break down the problem, sketching diagrams and scribbling calculations.
As the hours ticked by, Harry found himself struggling with a particularly tricky aspect —how to prevent the Apparition points from interfering with the Floo network's magical signature. A memory surfaced—something he'd read in one of Ignatius Potter's journals about harmonising conflicting magical frequencies. His eyes widened as the solution clicked into place.
When the time was called, Harry felt confident in his solution. However, the results surprised him.
"In first place for this task, with an outstanding score of 95 points, is Ivaylo Petrov!" Anton announced. "And in second place, with a very impressive 92 points, Harry Potter!"
Harry's heart sank a little, but he forced a smile. He was still in the lead overall, but the gap had narrowed.
The second task was announced: rapid artifact assembly. Contestants were given components and a basic schematic, and the goal was to assemble a functional magical artifact as quickly as possible. They only had an hour to complete it.
Harry's workstation was cluttered with various components. The schematic showed a magical compass.
Harry's fingers flew over the delicate components. He finished the assembly with one final twist of a crystal lens. The compass hummed to life, its needle spinning wildly before settling on a point outside the room's boundaries.
When the results were announced, Harry heard his name called for first place, with a score of 97 points. He had extended his overall lead.
During the break, Harry noticed Andrei and Ivaylo engaged in a heated conversation. Andrei's face was thunderous, and Ivaylo was on the verge of tears. Harry felt a pang of guilt. Even though he didn't like how the boy tried to sabotage him, he knew Andrei was placing a lot of pressure on his shoulders.
Charlus gave him a firm slap on the back. "Well done, Harry. But don't let your guard down. That final task will be the toughest yet."
Harry nodded. "As long as I don't majorly screw up the task, first place should be mine."
Anton Paasio stood before the assembled contestants with a solemn expression. "For your final task, we present you with a challenge that has confounded the Artisans Guild for over a century. The unfinished Resonator is in front of you, an artifact of extraordinary potential designed to synchronise the magical conduits of multiple wizards for collaborative spellcasting."
A collective gasp of awe and trepidation rippled through the room. Harry's eyes widened; he'd never heard of such an artifact before. He leaned forward, scrutinising the intricate schematic spread across his workstation, nearly missing Anton's next words.
"Countless brilliant minds have attempted to complete this artifact," Anton continued, his voice carrying a hint of reverence, "yet all have faltered before a critical flaw. Upon activation, it generates a magical feedback loop that inflicts harm upon the linked casters. Your challenge is to overcome this obstacle and bring the Resonator to fruition. While I don't expect a complete solution, I'm eager to see your innovative approaches. You have six hours. Begin!"
Two hours into the task, Harry found himself at an impasse. He'd identified several promising avenues, but each solution seemed to spawn new complications. Frustration mounting, he closed his eyes, forcing his mind to be still. For twenty minutes, he sat in deep thought, reminding himself that patience often preceded breakthrough. With more than half the time remaining, he refused to give in to despair.
Harry's eyes snapped open as a spark of inspiration ignited.
Energised by this new perspective, Harry threw himself into his work with renewed vigour. He began reconfiguring the crystal array, fine-tuning it to resonate with the magical frequencies of the linked casters rather than attempting to suppress them. His quill danced across parchment as he recalculated runic sequences, incorporating elements inspired by his own unique experiences and insights.
As the hours melted away, Harry became oblivious to his surroundings, lost in a world of magical theory and innovation. He barely registered Andrei's presence when the man paused by his workstation, his eyes narrowing as he observed Harry's progress.
With a mere thirty minutes left, Harry encountered another obstacle. His modifications had significantly reduced the harmful feedback but hadn't eliminated it. He stared at the artifact, running a hand through his dishevelled hair in frustration.
"Think, Potter, think," he urged himself. His gaze fell upon the delicate silver filaments, and suddenly, another flash of inspiration struck.
Harry's hands moved with preternatural speed, reworking the filaments into a complex, pulsating knot of magical energy. As he worked, he could feel the artifact awakening beneath his fingers.
"Time's up!" Anton's voice rang out, jolting Harry from his intense focus.
He stepped back from the workstation, suddenly aware of his exhaustion. Glancing around, he observed a spectrum of emotions on his fellow contestants' faces, ranging from frustration to resignation.
The judges moved from station to station, scrutinising each attempt. When they reached Harry's workstation, he held his breath. A judge with a flowing blonde beard leaned in close, his eyebrows arching as he traced the modifications Harry had made.
"Ingenious," the judge murmured, genuine awe in his voice, "simply ingenious."
After what felt like an eternity, the judges conferred, their hushed tones and animated gestures betraying their excitement. Finally, Anton stepped forward, his face beaming with unbridled enthusiasm.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have witnessed something truly extraordinary today. While none of the contestants fully completed the artifact, one came astonishingly close, demonstrating a level of innovation and understanding that has, frankly, left us awestruck."
Harry's heart thundered in his chest as Anton continued.
"The winner of this final task, with an unprecedented score of 98 points, is Harry Potter!"
The entire room erupted in thunderous applause. Harry stood stunned as his fellow contestants offered their congratulations, their previous competitiveness replaced by genuine admiration and respect.
"Mr. Potter," Anton said, approaching Harry's workstation, his eyes gleaming with curiosity, "would you kindly explain your approach to us?"
Still dazed by his achievement, Harry began to articulate his thought process. He detailed the inspiration he'd drawn from other magical artifacts and the intuitive leap that led to his final design. As he spoke, he noticed the judges nodding appreciatively, and even some of the other contestants were feverishly taking notes.
"Remarkable," Anton declared when Harry finished, his voice filled with admiration. "You've not only won this task, Mr. Potter, but you've made a significant contribution to a problem that has puzzled our guild for generations. I have no doubt that your work here will pave the way for the completion of the Resonator in the future."
As the final scores were tallied, Harry found himself surrounded by senior members of the Artisans Guild, all eager to discuss his ideas further. He caught sight of his grandfather beaming proudly from the sidelines, and Sheena gave him a thumbs up.
As the senior artisans continued to pepper Harry with questions about his approach, he saw an opportunity to satisfy his curiosity. Clearing his throat, he asked, "I was wondering if any of you have ever come across references to an artisan named Galahad in your studies?"
The group fell silent for a moment, exchanging glances. Finally, an elderly witch with silver hair spoke up. "Galahad, you say? That's not a name you hear often these days. Why do you ask, young man?"
Harry tried to keep his expression neutral. "I've come across some references to his work in old texts. I was curious about his contributions to the field."
A wizard with a goatee stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I recall reading about a Galahad in some ancient guild records. Brilliant artificer, by all accounts, but quite mysterious."
"Interesting," Harry murmured, his mind racing. "Do you know if he went by any other names?"
The silver-haired witch shook her head. "Not that I'm aware of. Why the interest in such a person? His time has long gone and passed."
Harry shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Just curiosity. Thank you for the information."
As the conversation shifted back to his work on the Resonator, Harry's mind whirled with new questions. Galahad must have returned to the castle more recently, likely under an assumed identity. Was he masquerading as another artisan, hiding in plain sight among the guild members? Unless he had other means to access the castle, then he must be a part of the guild. How did he even go about finding him? Did he have to find Lewis to get some answers?
"We have calculated the final results," Anton said. "Let's head into the castle for the award ceremony and announce the winners of the competition."
It was clear who took first and second place, but there were great prizes for the top twenty contestants. As a result, everyone rushed into the castle, excited to hear the results.
The Great Hall of the castle had been transformed for the award ceremony. Floating candles illuminated the space, casting a warm glow over the gathered crowd.
Harry stood near the front with Lucia, his new friend from Spain. She kept smiling because she was certain that she had made it into the top twenty, and there was a chance that she could have snuck into the top ten.
Anton stepped onto the raised platform at the front of the hall. With a wave of his wand, he amplified his voice, and the crowd fell silent.
"Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed guests, and most importantly, our brilliant young artisans," Anton began." We have witnessed something truly extraordinary over the past two days. The level of skill, creativity, and nous displayed by our contestants has been nothing short of astonishing."
A round of applause broke out, and Anton waited for it to subside before continuing.
"Before we announce our winners, I want to commend every one of our participants. You are the future of the artisan guild, and based on what we've seen here, that future is indeed very bright."
Anton's eyes twinkled as he surveyed the room. "Now, the moment you've all been waiting for. In third place, with a total score of 512 points—Annaleisa Baasch!"
The crowd erupted in cheers as an older German teenager stepped onto the stage to accept her prize. Harry recalled that she had performed well in the final three tasks. She was grinning from ear to ear as she accepted a bronze trophy and a small, ornate chest from Anton.
"Ms Baasch has shown remarkable skill and an innovative approach to enchantments," Anton announced. "We expect great things from her in the future."
As Annaleisa stepped to the side, clutching her prizes, Anton raised his hand in silence once more.
"In second place, with a score of 541 points—Ivaylo Petrov!"
The applause this time was more subdued, mixed with a few murmurs. Ivaylo made his way to the platform. As he accepted his silver trophy and chest of prizes, Harry could see the conflict in his eyes—pride in his achievement, warring with disappointment at not claiming the top spot.
"Mr. Petrov has demonstrated exceptional theoretical knowledge and a masterful command of complex enchantments," Anton said.
Ivaylo nodded stiffly and took his place beside Annaleisa. Harry could feel the tension radiating from him, and he wondered again about the pressure Andrei had placed on his apprentice.
Anton paused, building the suspense. The hall was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.
"And now, our champion. With an outstanding total of 565 points, displaying innovation, skill, and magical understanding beyond his years—Harry Potter!"
The hall exploded with cheers and applause. Harry felt as if he were in a dream as he walked to the platform, his legs moving of their own accord. He shook Anton's hand, accepting a gleaming gold trophy that seemed to hum with magical energy.
"Mr. Potter," Anton said, his voice filled with genuine admiration, "you have not only won this competition, but you have contributed to the advancement of our craft. Your work on the Resonator alone would be worthy of the accolade, but combined with your other achievements over these two days, it marks you as a truly exceptional talent."
Harry felt his cheeks burning as Anton handed him an intricately carved wooden box.
"In this box, you will find a collection of rare magical materials. Use them well in your future creations."
Anton then produced a large, leather-bound book, its cover adorned with intricate runes. As he handed it to Harry, he felt a surge of magical energy course through his arms, causing his fingers to tingle and nearly fumble the weighty book.
"And this, Mr Potter, is a truly extraordinary prize," Anton announced. "This is an Artisan Codex, a repository of knowledge that few have the privilege to possess. Within its pages, you'll find a wealth of information on runic languages, materials, arrays, sequences, and specialised runic tools. It's a veritable treasure trove for any aspiring artisan."
Anton continued. "An anonymous benefactor generously donated this Codex to the guild, specifically to be awarded to the first-place winner. Although the book wouldn't open for us, the donor provided ample demonstration of their expertise, so I can confidently say it's not only legitimate but also invaluable."
As Harry marvelled at the book in his hands, he suddenly felt the weight of an intense gaze upon him. Turning, he locked eyes with Andrei, whose expression was a disconcerting mix of hunger and calculation as he stared at the Codex. He instinctively clutched the book closer to his chest, as if shielding it from Andrei's covetous gaze.
"Thank you," Harry managed to say, staring out into the audience. "I'm honoured, truly. This competition has been an incredible experience, and I've learned so much. I can't wait to see what we can all achieve in the future."
His words were met with another round of applause. As it died down, Anton addressed the crowd once more.
"And with that, I declare the 257th Under-Eighteens Artisan Competition officially closed. Congratulations to all our participants, and may your futures be filled with magical wonders!"
As soon as Anton stepped down from the platform, Harry found himself surrounded by a swarm of people. Fellow contestants offered congratulations, and to his surprise, several reporters pushed their way forward, quills and parchment at the ready.
"Mr. Potter! Eldred Worple from Artifice Monthly," a short, bespectacled wizard introduced himself. "Your work on the Resonator was groundbreaking. Can you tell us more about your approach?"
Before Harry could answer, another voice chimed in. "Perpetua Fancourt, Enchanter's Digest. Mr. Potter, how do you think your experience as the Boy Who Lived has influenced your approach to magical artifice?"
Harry blinked, momentarily overwhelmed. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see his grandfather standing beside him.
"One at a time, please," Charlus said firmly. "My grandson will be happy to answer your questions, but let's do this in an orderly fashion."
Grateful for his grandfather's intervention, Harry took a deep breath and turned to Mr Worple. "Well, when I was working on the Resonator, I realised that the key wasn't to control the magical feedback, but to harmonise it..."
For the next hour, Harry found himself explaining his ideas, discussing magical theory, and fielding questions about his background and future plans. Despite his initial nervousness, he found himself adapting as time passed.
As the crowd of reporters and well-wishers finally began to disperse, Harry felt a familiar heat emanating from the symbol on his hand. He excused himself, claiming a need for fresh air, and slipped away from the Great Hall. Finding a secluded alcove in a quiet corridor, Harry retrieved the Source and read the message.
You have completed Task #17: Place within the top ten of the Under-Eighteens Artisan Competition.
Your outstanding performance in securing first place has earned you a substantial reward.
Reward: 100,000 general experience points; The Runes Assimilation skill has levelled up to three.
Current Level: 14 Next: 11690/ 500000
Artisan Rank: 912th 827th
Renown: 685 1185
The competition had yielded far more than just accolades and trophies. Harry's fingers twitched with anticipation, eager to explore the Artisan Codex. The idea that someone was willing to give away so much knowledge seemed strange to him, but he was not going to complain about it.
Was this the reason Andrei was pushing Ivaylo to win the competition? Did he want to get his hands on the codex? If that were the case, then it must be valuable. He shouldn't be out here in the corridor, where Andrei could find him alone.
He placed the codex in his inventory and put the Source away. As Harry emerged from the alcove, he nearly collided with a figure lurking in the shadows. Instinctively reaching for his wand, he relaxed slightly when he recognised Ivaylo's gaunt face.
"Potter," Ivaylo said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I need to speak with you."
Harry examined the older boy, noticing dark circles under his eyes and a slight tremor in his hands.
"About the device you planted in my room?" he asked, unable to keep the edge from his voice.
Ivaylo flinched. "Yes, that... and more. Please, just hear me out."
Curiosity overrode caution, and Harry nodded, gesturing for Ivaylo to continue.
"I never wanted to hurt you," Ivaylo began, his words tumbling out in a rush. "You have to believe me. It was Andrei... my master. He forced me to use that device. He threatened my family if I didn't comply."
Harry's eyes widened. "Threatened your family? But why? What does he want?"
Ivaylo glanced nervously over his shoulder before continuing. "Andrei... he's not who he claims to be. He's part of a group, a dangerous one. When he heard about the competition and the special prize for the winner, he became fixated on obtaining it."
"The Artisan Codex," Harry murmured, pieces starting to fall into place.
Ivaylo nodded frantically. "Yes, exactly. Andrei believes it contains information that he needs. He thought I could win it for him, but when you started pulling ahead..."
"He decided to take more drastic measures," Harry finished, a chill running down his spine.
"There's more," Ivaylo said, leaning in closer. "Andrei, he's been searching for someone. A wizard named-"
Suddenly, a cold voice cut through the air like a knife. "Well, well. What do we have here?"
Harry and Ivaylo spun around to see Andrei standing at the end of the corridor, his face twisted into a sneer. Ivaylo paled, shrinking back against the wall.
"Master, I-" Ivaylo began, but Andrei silenced him with a sharp gesture.
"Silence, you useless boy," Andrei spat. His gaze fixed on Harry, eyes glittering with malice. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at him. "Mr. Potter. I believe you have something that belongs to me."
Harry's hand tightened around his wand, having pulled it out as soon as he spotted the man. "The Codex isn't yours. It was given to the winner of the competition."
Andrei's lip curled. "Given by whom, I wonder? No matter. Hand it over now, and we can avoid any... unpleasantness."
"I don't think so," Harry said, raising his wand. "Whatever you're planning, whatever you're looking for, I won't let you have it."
Andrei's face darkened. "You insolent little brat. Do you have any idea who you're dealing with?" He raised his wand, a sickly red light gathering at its tip. "Last chance, Potter. The Codex, now, or-"
"Or what, Andrei?" a new voice interrupted, cold and threatening.
Harry's heart leapt as his grandfather stepped into view, his wand trained on Andrei. Charlus' eyes blazed with a fury Harry had never seen before.
"Ah, Charlus Potter," Andrei said, his confident demeanour faltering slightly. "Come to save your precious grandson?"
"Step away from the boys, Andrei," Charlus commanded. "Whatever game you're playing ends now."
For a moment, tension crackled in the air like electricity. Then, slowly, Andrei lowered his wand, his face twisting into a mask of false civility.
"No game, Charlus. Just a simple misunderstanding." His eyes flicked to Harry, then back to Charlus. "We'll continue this discussion another time, Mr. Potter. Do enjoy your... prize."
With a swirl of his robes, Andrei turned and strode away, disappearing around a corner. As soon as he was gone, Ivaylo sagged against the wall, looking as if he might faint.
Charlus rushed to Harry's side, checking him over. "Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"
Harry shook his head. "I'm fine, Grandfather. But Ivaylo..." He turned to the older boy. "You were saying something about Andrei searching for someone. Who?"
Ivaylo swallowed hard. "I... I don't know the full story. But I've heard Andrei mention a name. Galahad. He's looking for someone named Galahad."
Harry was taken aback. That was the last thing he had expected Ivaylo to say.
"Ivaylo," Charlus said gently, "I think you'd better come with us. We need to talk somewhere safe."
As they guided the trembling Ivaylo away, Harry's mind whirled with a maelstrom of questions and realisations. The fact that Andrei was searching for Galahad was alarming. What purpose could he have for looking for the man? How did Andrei know Galahad was still alive?
The Codex, the Cursed Vaults, the Sorting Hat, the guild request—all were unmistakable hallmarks of Galahad's machinations. Galahad wasn't just alive; he was orchestrating events from the shadows, laying out breadcrumbs for Harry to follow. The Codex was more than just a prize; it was a message, a carefully crafted next step in whatever grand plan Galahad had in mind.
Harry hated the feeling of being manipulated. He already had enough concerns about the Source's intentions towards him.
So, what do you think? In the next chapter, Harry returns to Hogwarts and learns what the three pocket watches do when they come together.
Patrons get access to advanced chapters for all of my stories. Read my profile for information on how to join if you are interested.
Thanks for reading.