Smile Like You Mean It

Chapter 18 - Cry And I'll Hold You


As they entered the dungeon office, Malfoy felt his heart sink lower. He had been here a number of times before, admittedly never this late in the evening, so he knew that the straight backed chair without a cushion had been placed specifically for his benefit, the other side of Snape's desk.

Malfoy knew that Snape had a number of different chairs that he used for different occasions. If he was trying to make a person feel in a secure environment he would use a nicely padded chair that made them feel comfortable. He had a chair that was slightly unbalanced, with one leg shorter than the others. That one he used when he was trying to make someone feel uncomfortable and nervous.

This chair was to make Malfoy believe, without a word being said, that he was about to be interrogated and he would be here a while.

Snape sat first, in a chair that made him appear even more bat-like, with its long leather faced arms. Malfoy sank into the seat opposite, feeling the hard unforgiving wood and trying not to allow his imagination to conjure up what this could be about.

There was silence as Snape observed his student over his steepled fingers, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Determined not to allow his teacher to gain the upper hand, Malfoy merely sat there, trying his best to achieve a pose of disinterest.

"You have been in regular contact with your father, Draco. How is he?"

This simple sentence made Draco still. The casual tone suggested nothing more than polite inquest, yet it also told him that while he had done his best to hide his regular letters, it had been noted.

"He's fine, Professor. He will be pleased to hear that you asked after him."

Snape nodded and folded his hands together. He had a small smile on his lips. "Your father taught you well in the arts of reading people and their intentions. You know I brought you here for other matters than to inquire into your family's well-being."

Malfoy just nodded, trying not to show surprise. Snape was rarely this upfront about things, usually encouraging small-talk before he leapt for your throat with his questions.

Snape reclined into his seat, letting out a heavy sigh. "Your character this year has changed. I have heard whispers that you are no longer ruling the Slytherin house as you used to. That the boy who courted a large group of friends of dubious nature has transformed into a young man who is more often seen alone than in the presence of others."

"Sir?"

"You know, of course, that I am a friend of your father's."

Snape waited for Malfoy's hesitant nod before he continued. It was a foolish question, really. Draco never spent more than a week at his parent's mansion during the summer without seeing his school teacher stalking through the halls.

"Yet, I believe that the history of that friendship is somewhat unknown to you."

Malfoy felt his breath catch. He had always presumed that Lucius and Snape had become acquaintances after swearing their allegiance to the Dark Lord. His father would never speak of such things, at least not until Malfoy got the Mark. Perhaps Snape had decided to lay the story out straight for him.

"I daresay it will come as a surprise to you to learn that it was not your father but your mother who I was most friendly with in school."

"What!" Malfoy yelped, sitting forward. His mind threw up an image of Snape and his mother in a passionate embrace.

Snape frowned. "Calm yourself, Draco. Our relationship has always been one of friendship. When we were at school together neither of us thought of each other in such a..." He paused and gave a sneer. "Romantic way."

Draco relaxed somewhat, though he was still desperate for the full story to be explained. "Why are you telling me this Sir?"

"It was only when Lucius began courting Narcissa that I started a somewhat strained friendship with him. He of course believed, as many adolescent young men do, that it was impossible for a man and woman to be just friends. He thought I was secretly harbouring desires for Narcissa. I assure you, as I did him, this was far from the truth." Snape stopped and seemed to think for a moment before he continued. "There was a girl I hoped to woo, but that was not to be."

Malfoy felt his jaw drop. This was the strangest, most bizarre conversation he had ever been a part of. Snape had just admitted to feelings that classified him as human, an admission that he had always refrained from making.

"Professor, you... I still don't understand."

"What I am trying to divulge to you is that my involvement with the Dark Lord was not out of agreement with Lucius's ideals."

Malfoy stared, trying to work out what this meant. If not due to a kindred belief, than why had Snape joined the dark forces? His confusion must have been obvious because Snape gave a smile of amusement.

"During my school-life I was treated with a sense of dislike by the other students. However, the girl I earlier mentioned chose those who ridiculed me over myself. Narcissa, though she had no love for the Dark Lord, was already tight within his circles through her connection with Lucius. When I turned to her for comfort and counsel, I found Lucius waiting. He convinced me that the Dark Side had the answers and so I swore my allegiance." Snape's eyes were distant, his attention elsewhere as he remembered. "It was the biggest mistake I ever made and in the end cost me more than I could ever imagine."

Silence filled the room, making the walls close in. Draco could not drag his eyes away from his teacher's face, where there was such pain and self-hate that he felt his own chest constrict in sympathy.

The magnitude of this confession was not lost for Draco. Suddenly there was not a Death Eater before him, but a man who he had long misunderstood.

When at last the man's tired eyes began to focus on the here and now, he gave a trademark sneer. "For many years now I have tried to understand why such a thing happened. In the end my choices and the consequences matter little, however. You are wondering why in Merlin's Beard I have told you all of this. It is because the past cannot be changed, but the future depends on the choices made now."

"You're asking me... what? That I don't make the same mistakes?" Malfoy asked, unsure of what was going through his teacher's head.

Snape sighed wearily, reaching over to pour himself a glass of some bright liquid from a jug off to one side of the table.

"You will make mistakes, Draco. What I am asking is whether you are following your father with your eyes wide open, willing to see what the consequences are."

Malfoy felt a flush of anger. "And you are just presuming that I follow where he leads? I am not a leashed house-elf to do only what his master bids!" he snapped, hating that once again he was seen as nothing more than his father's son.

The silent surprise on Snape's face made him stop, realising what he had said. He had as good as told one of Voldemort's devoted followers that he did not share Lucius's servitude. Panic welled up inside him, but he still had his wand. As long as he had that he would have a chance. No more need to lie, however.

Snape's voice was very quiet. "Are you saying, Draco, that you do not intend to follow the Dark Lord? That you do not share his beliefs regarding the wizarding world?"

Malfoy took a deep breath. It would be the first time he had admitted to anything of this nature. As he opened his mouth his hand inched between the folds of his robe, gripping his wand.

"I believe the Dark Lord is fighting for a cause that will ultimately ruin the magical world."

Snape was very still, though Malfoy watched for the slightest hint that a wand would be drawn. He knew that the professor was faster than him, but all he needed was one chance to escape and he would be gone. After this there would be no returning home, no more school. Spies for the Dark Side were everywhere and it would be necessary to find somewhere far away to hide.

"It would interest you, then." Snape said slowly. "To hear that your mother does not share your father's conviction either."

Malfoy's heart had been beating like a drum inside his chest, yet now it skipped a beat. The words pounded inside his head, ringing in his ears. Something wasn't right here.

"Neither do I."

Not sure if this was a trick or not, Malfoy didn't move, his hand still clasping his wand. "What do you mean?"

Snape could clearly see that his pupil was on edge, ready to attack should there be the slightest hint that he was offensive. "Everything I have told you tonight has been the truth, yet some things were left unsaid. Something occurred, a few years after I had joined the Dark Lord, that changed me. The woman I had loved during my school years was killed in an attack. As you well know, no man nor woman ever leaves the Dark Lord's ranks. You are a Death Eater until the end. Yet, I needed my revenge. And I got it in the only possible way left to me. I had nothing to lose, so I became a spy for the Light."

More out of shock than a sense of security, Malfoy's hand dropped from his wand. "It's you!" he gasped.

Since Voldemort's return there had been rumours of a spy inside his inner circle, yet there had never been a suspect. Malfoy knew that Snape was Voldemort's own messenger boy, in contact with every upper rank Death Eater. He was in the perfect position to betray information, yet who would question the man that Voldemort had often referred to as his only true servant?

Snape nodded but Malfoy had many more questions to be answered. "Is it Dumbledore you answer to?"

"Yes, though he does not know that I have told you any of this. Indeed he cautioned against it and I had no intention of revealing anything of this enormity."

"You said my mother doesn't support the Dark Lord."

This accusation was met with another bemused smile. "Your mother's love for your father was what encouraged her to support the Dark Lord, though it resulted in her support of You-Know-Who himself. Since Lucius has been drawn further and further into the twisted ways of the Death Eaters, Narcissa has receded, though only in the privacy of her own thoughts. Your arrival in this world was the one thing she treasured."

Malfoy frowned. "How in Hell could you know all this?"

"You see me at the mansion during the summer. How often is your father there? You believe he is locked up in his study most days where I go to see him, yet he is usually gone from the grounds entirely, acting as a lapdog to his master. I visit your mother during those times. For a long while we grew distant. Once I changed to support the Light I repaired our friendship in the hopes of protecting her from the damage the Dark Lord brings to those around him."

Snape paused and took a long draught from his glass. As he moved Malfoy tensed, but he could see both of his teacher's hands. There was no threat there.

Newly refreshed, Snape started talking once more. "Your mother was terrified when she told me how she truly felt. It was only two years ago, you were away at school. You-Know-Who had returned and Lucius was a fully fledged Death Eater once more. In the end I told her the truth about myself and the events that led up to it. She was relieved and had obviously hoped that I would rescue her from the hell that had been built by Lucius for the two of you. But I could not." Pain sketched an ugly scowl over his face once more. "The risk of being caught was too great. The Ministry still refused to acknowledge that He was back and so he was free to do as he liked. I could think of no place where I could hide her. And so I was forced to ask her to keep her secrets a little longer. After all, she wanted you free also. If you turned out to already be on your father's side, you would betray us."

"What happens now?" asked Malfoy, stunned by the wave of revelations. His palms were slick with sweat and he was finding it hard to keep listening. Too many thoughts were flashing through his mind.

Snape didn't answer. He was looking at the large clock hanging to his left, a look of surprise on his face.

"Ah, it is almost ten. I was not aware of time passing so quickly." He turned back to the student in front of him. "I realise you have many more questions, but there will be too many rumours started if you spend too long in my office. We must find a solution. I will let you know, when I find one. Now, it is an hour past curfew and you must return to your dorm."

Malfoy nodded. Weariness was curling its ugly fingers tightly through his body. He felt drained by the night's talk and the confusion and worry it brought. He needed a decent night's sleep in order to deal with this new information in the morning.

As Snape laid his hand on the door, ready to pull it open, he turned to give Malfoy a stern stare.

"This is a burden for one not yet of age, but I hope you will realise the impact of what has happened here tonight. This is no childish game we play. Secrecy and guile are what will see us through this. There is a point in our lives when we understand that we can depend on no one but ourselves and we can trust no further either. This is that moment for you, Draco. This is to be kept to yourself, whatever the cost, for you not only endanger your own life, but that of your mother and myself."

Malfoy nodded, desperately wanting Snape to shut up. He needed his bed. He understood perfectly well what the man was saying, and it was unnecessary. He wouldn't be telling anyone this secret, come hell or high-water.

He slipped out through the opened door and into the darkness of the hallway. His feet automatically set out for the dungeon as the rectangle of light diminished behind him, his mind fighting to hold the confusion and bewilderment at bay.


++++++++++++++++++++++++++


Aera shuffled into the great hall, feeling tired. She had slept but her night had been plagued by dreams. In the morning, distracted and sleepy she hadn't even bothered to pick up her wand, instead fixing her hair with wandless magic.

There was no doubt that she would be able to hide that she knew Blaise's secret. She wasn't really concerned about that. But still the truth nagged at her. She very much wanted to know what it was that held Draco and Blaise together. Between her own friends it was obvious; they were united in their fight against Voldemort. But what had happened that caused such unquestioning devotion between the two Slytherins?

As if to mock these thoughts, the first person she laid eyes on when she entered was Malfoy. He looked as bad as she felt, though she was sure he hadn't slept a wink by the state of him. His usually groomed hair was falling messily across his face and he had tired lines around his eyes. Zabini was sitting beside him, questioning him. But the platinum haired boy waved him away.

Blaise looked up and smiled, catching sight of Aera in the doorway. She smiled back and made her way to her own table. They had D.A.D.A. first and she knew she would need a full stomach to concentrate.

Sirius greeted the class with a grin and a call for silence.

"Today we will have a special class. I have invited a guest to speak for us, who will hopefully diminish some of the prejudice feelings against her kind. Without further ado, I give you... Cerridwen!"

He flourished a hand towards his office door and it opened, producing a woman, half-hidden by the room's shadowy interior. Aera's eyes strained to make out the woman's features, but she had lank black hair which hung down as far as her waist. Then she moved forward, into the light of the classroom. Her deathly white features and the red-rimmed eyes stared round at them all.

It was Seamus Finnegan who reacted first, letting out a yell and jumping to his feet. "Sir, it's a... a Banshee! She's dangerous!"

Sirius laughed, waving a hand of dismissal at Seamus's words. "She is no more dangerous than you or I. Banshees come from an ancient lineage of Seers. They are much like our own Pofessor Trelawney, gifted with the Sight. However, unlike our own professor, Banshees have a limited but powerful talent. They can only see death."

Everyone was silent, eyes darting between Sirius and the woman, who still hadn't moved. She was staring at the wall opposite, as if determined not to see the people in the room.

Sirius was in full swing now, his hands sketching dramatic pictures for them. "You see, a Banshee's cry is one of pain, because they are seeing exactly what will happen to the person. Usually a Banshee only caters for one family, most likely of magical descent. But that doesn't mean they do not see others' death, only that they do not scream, for which they are famous."

Seamus sank nervously back into his seat, eyeing the dark haired woman with caution as if expecting her to start screaming at any moment.

"Now, Cerridwen, would you be kind enough to tell us a little about yourself?"

The woman nodded at Sirius and Aera watched as she looked around the room. Her eyes lingered on Harry, obviously recognising him from his scar, but she showed no sign of recognition for anyone else. Once she finished her survey of the students, she let out a relieved sigh and comprehension dawned on Aera. Cerridwen had been scared that someone in this room would be soon to die and she would be compelled to react. This realisation was coupled with a shiver from Aera. The idea of the Banshee actually screaming would have scared her hugely.

"I am Cerridwen." The voice was rasping and low, as if unused to speaking. "I come from a long line of Banshees. We hail from Ireland, where the Bean Sidhe have long been feared." The woman's long nailed hands smoothed down her long white robe. "Since my birth I have seen the deaths of others, felt their endings near. I was taught to understand this gift and use it to warn the families of the old Irish blood."

Aera felt a twinge of compassion for the woman. She couldn't imagine the burden of knowing that someone would soon die and that you could be their only forewarning. Her eyes took in the lines around the woman's eyes. She wasn't especially old, yet life had aged her significantly.

Seamus had raised a hand into the air, a question clear in his eyes. Sirius nodded and the students turned to hear what the Irish lad would ask.

"I'm Irish and I've never heard of a Banshee willingly speaking about herself and the Banshee ways. Why have you made a point of hiding from the world?"

The woman gave a cold, sad smile. "Since the beginning, when the Tuath de Danna, the first magical Irish folk, heard our cries, we have been seen as evil. My ancestor, Bronach, was one of the Tuath and she had the gift of Sight. One day she was with her father when she saw her brother working in the fields. But instead of the young man she knew, full of life and activity, she saw him with hollow eyes and death-paled skin. Frightened by what she saw she fell to her knees, a cry ripping from her throat that made the men stop of go cold from fear. For this was no ordinary cry of a woman distressed. It was a keening that spoke of such pain, such grief that their hearts were gripped with the cold iciness of terror.

"The next day they found Bronach's brother dead in his bed, throat slit. Bronach was gone, unable to face the accusing stares of her family. For though they understood that it was a neighbouring man who had wielded the knife that butchered their son, her parents blamed her. They could not understand why she would have cried so the day before, without knowing. And they could not comprehend why she had not warned them."

The class was silent, every student lost in their own imagination. Each person in the room seeing that young man with his life-blood spilling about him, each person watching as young Brochan ran from her gift. They knew the story couldn't end there and weren't disappointed.

"And so when the gift struck again with Brochan on the day she worked up the courage to return home, many years later, she could no longer face them. She cried for her father's death which she knew was to come and she left once more. This time she knew there could be no coming back. She would watch her family grow old from a distance, her screams on the wind each time she saw the end of a kin coming.

"When she had her own child, she watched with heartache as her daughter began to see the things that had long tormented herself. She knew that there could be no end to this, it was her legacy. And so she taught her daughter all she could. When her daughter turned to her one evening and she saw the large brown eyes fill with tears and the child's mouth open in a cry that made her soul shiver with sorrow, she was no longer afraid. Whether it was a curse placed on her by an enemy or of her own making, she didn't know. But it gave her the chance to wrap her arms around her child and tell the girl of her love for her and wish her a heartfelt farewell. The next morning she was gone, and her daughter took up her place amongst the bracken, ready to scream her warning of what was to come."

Everyone was silent when Cerridwen finished. She gazed around at them, obviously pleased that she had managed to captivate them all with her words. It was no small feat to hold the attention of such adolescents.

"You asked why I came here to tell you our story." said Cerridwen to Seamus. "We are not so evil as you all believe. How often has a man been able to wish his loved ones farewell simply due to our warning? How often has a woman had the chance to tell her husband to be strong? We come to warn you, not to frighten. We gain nothing from our lifelong pursuit except the treasure of seeing a family recover from a death that could as easily have crippled them."

Sirius began clapping his hands and soon the rest of the class followed suit. Cerridwen looked surprised, then pleased and embarrassed.

"Well, we certainly have a lot to thank you for, Ms Cerridwen." said Sirius seriously. "After all, the aim of this class was to prove to my students that just because a person or creature is named and rumoured to be of the Dark, doesn't necessarily mean they are. You yourself managed to allay a culture's worth of myth in one class period!"

Aera grinned. Sirius's enthusiasm was infectious. She was delighted by this insight into the Banshees. It explained so much and made her stop and consider other magical beings who may also have been labelled with the same false suspicion. A Banshee's wailing did not cause death, it foretold it.

Even Seamus was looking a little bashful, serving his apologies to Cerridwen for his initial rudeness at the beginning of class. She brushed it off, saying she was used to such mannerism.

Aera glanced around at Harry, prepared to smile and joke about Seamus's awkwardness. Instead she was stopped short, her smile faltering at the look on her twin's face.

Harry was staring intensely at the Banshee, his focus only on her. The look of envy was plain to see. His attention followed the tall woman as she glided amongst the student, answering questions. Aera felt her heart turn over at the sight of him. Unsure if it would be invading, she got up and sat beside him. The class was milling about anyway, no one noticed.

"Harry, you all right?" she asked, laying a hand on his arm.

His face was stoney when he answered. "Yeah. I... I'm just wondering..."

Aera smiled sadly. "You were wondering if you would have had the chance to save Cedric." she finished. He nodded stiffly and she sighed. "It wouldn't have mattered, Harry. We are here for a reason, and if it is our time to go, there's really nothing we can do about it."

Harry scowled and rounded on her, making her jump. "You don't know that! What about the Philosopher's Stone? Nicolas Flamel lived past his allotted time. If I'd had warning, I could have stopped Cedric from coming to that graveyard with me."

Aera nodded sagely. "Yes, and then maybe he would have died some other way."

"Stop trying to sound like Hermione!" snapped Harry, making Aera pale.

"What is wrong?"

The voice made the pair of them go silent. They looked up into the green eyes of Cerridwen who was looking between them with concern.

Aera made no comment. This was for Harry to explain. It was him who needed the answers. But he made no move to say anything, staring stubbornly at the desk.

Cerridwen tipped one finger under Harry's chin and he lifted his face to meet her gaze. As she looked into his eyes a tear rolled down her cheek and she gave a shudder.

"Oh child, you have suffered. You have seen enough death to destroy a man. Yet you remain strong. I have no comfort for you, it will get no easier. I have seen many die. Young, old, man and woman. Still I cry for their passing, for it is what I do. But to hold the grief inside you will only wear you away until you are but a shell of a man. Do not let it smoulder inside you. Let yourself feel the pain, for only then can you accept your loss."

Harry let out a choked sob at the same time that tears began to stream down Aera's face. Cerridwen gave a dip of her head and moved away, distracting the class long enough for Sirius to reach them. He gave Harry a pat on the shoulder and directed them into his office, away from the questioning eyes of others.

Once inside the dark room, Aera felt her heart begin to pound. For some strange reason she felt consumed with grief, her shoulders shaking. She sank onto the couch and her hands gripped her hair, praying for some relief. Despair filled her until she could feel nothing else, her eyes, so blurred with tears, could only just make out the shape of Harry, still standing near the door.

His hands were flat against the wall, his head hanging. She could see his shoulders shaking and the tension in his body. He wasn't looking at her, but it was as if every shudder of pain and guilt that throbbed through his body was echoed in her own.

Aera felt confused. She couldn't understand why she felt so terrible. She had never known Cedric and had no memory of her parents. Why was she feeling like this when it was Harry that was having difficulty dealing with it?

But those were matters to be pondered another time. Now she stood and approached her brother, determined to offer the only comfort possible. Her arms wrapped around him and she pulled him close.

For a moment he didn't move, then he twisted in her embrace and his arms gripped her tightly, his head burying itself in her shoulder. His sobs could be clearly heard now, irregularly making his body quiver. As his tears soaked the front of her robe, her own dampened his hair. There were no thoughts racing through Aera's mind anymore. She was simply a sister, comforting her distraught brother when he had no one else to turn to. She swore a silent oath to herself in the privacy of her own head. She would always be there for her twin, she would come when he called and she would offer her shoulder for him to cry on when things got too tough.

Gradually their tears began to dry, though they still remained in each others' arms. Aera never wanted to let go. There was an understanding between them, if only for this brief moment. She squeezed him tighter, praying that he would remember this and reflect on it when she finally told him who she was.

Suddenly the door to the office swung open and a figure stood framed against the light. Aera instinctively pulled away at the same time that Harry gripped her protectively. Their eyes squinted against the silhouette as they parted, Aera smoothing her shirt which had become crumpled from Harry's tears.

The figure wasn't Sirius, that much was plain. As her eyes adjusted, Aera sucked in her breath in a sharp gasp. Draco Malfoy stood, his eyes blazing with hatred and his face a picture of fury. He was looking at Harry.

As Draco lunged towards her brother, Aera's hand rose of its own accord and she flung a silent spell towards the two men. They were too close to be able to aim at one in particular. Their limbs snapped to their sides and their bodies straightened like pillars. Draco's body, already unbalanced by motion, fell to the floor with a harsh thud. Harry was only a second behind, landing thankfully on his back.

Aera caught her breath, letting her hand drop to her side. She took in the scene and felt panic threatening to overwhelm her. Why is he here! Oh Merlin this could ruin everything...

She plucked up the courage to approach them, using a spell to turn Malfoy over onto his back. His bright blues eyes glared between herself and Harry.

"You shouldn't be here, Draco." Aera said in a voice that sounded much calmer than she felt. "Though we cannot change what has already come to pass. Therefore you and I are going to have a little chat."

She removed her wand from inside her robes and aimed it at Harry. With a quick spell the body-bind was reversed and he sat up, rubbing his elbow which had knocked against the stone floor.

"Bloody hell, Aera! What happened? Was that you who cast the spell? You didn't have a wand!" Harry rambled. "And him! What was going on there!"

Harry's accusing finger was pointing at Malfoy's chest, but Aera ignored the questions. "Harry, I need to ask you to trust me with this. I have to talk to him." Harry gave her a dubious look. "Alone." she added firmly.

Harry got to his feet and stood in front of her. She eyed him nervously, hoping that he would do this for her. That he would be strong enough to trust her, just one more time.

"Alright. But be careful." he said finally, picking up his wand which had rolled out of his robes when he fell and walking to the door. "And Aera? I do trust you."

As the door shut behind him, Aera sank to her knees, feeling relief and apprehension devour her. She looked down at the man in front of her, completely at her mercy and gave a sigh.

"I'm going to release you now, Draco. But only because I believe you stay to hear me out. You have no idea what you stumbled in on, and I think it's time you had some answers."

Aera waited, though it was obvious that he would be unable to reply. Taking a deep breath she waved her wand above him. When a person was released from a body-bind spell there was usually an amount of stiffness when they tried to move, both from the way they fell and the fact that every muscle in their body had been forced into an artificial spasm. With Draco, however, he moved like a snake. Lying prone one moment and standing the next, his muscles flexed for action.

Without looking at Aera he moved towards the door, clearly intent on hunting Harry down. She gritted her teeth and shot a locking spell at the frame. It bolted at the same moment that his hand touched it and he went still. After a moment he spoke, though he didn't turn around.

"Open the door, Vale."

Aera swallowed down the nervous lump in her throat. "Why?"

Now he did turn and she shrank back from the cold look in his eyes. "Because I am going to find that Gryffindor."

Aera shook her head. "No. You are not going after Harry."

The smirk made her blood boil but she stamped the feeling down. "And you really believe you can stop me?"

Aera lifted her chin, defiance radiating off her. "That is not why I said you're not going after him. You are not going to leave here because you need answers."

She could see the intrigue in his eyes, still laced with anger. She took another deep breath.

"And I am ready to give you those answers."


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Wow, that took a while to write and get online! Hope u guys aren't too mad with me leaving it at a cliffy!