Renaissance

A/N: On with the show! Standard disclaimers and warnings apply. And always, thanks to Mamacita-san and refuz2luz for the beta!!!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

4.

The broad-shouldered security guard in Muggle garb Harry had seen when he’d cased the Foundation building the day before greeted them as they stepped through the Floo.

“Good morning.” He smiled sincerely. “Are you here for the symposium?”

Harry stepped forward. “No, we’re here to see Director Malfoy, actually.”

The guard checked his Orb and frowned slightly. “I don’t see any appointments for Director Malfoy here. I’m afraid you’ll have to schedule one with hir administrative staff.”

Harry shook his head. “We—”

“It’s fine, Danny.” A cheerful looking man in smart business robes interrupted, stepping off the lifts. “Aurors Potter....” He trailed off, motioning toward Ron and Hermione.

“Granger-Weasley and Weasley,” Harry provided.

The man smiled thinly. “Aurors Potter, Granger-Weasley, and Weasley have been sent from the Ministry for Draco’s protection in light of the attacks. They should have full access and won’t need to sign in. I’ll fit them with security badges by the end of the day.”

“That’s fine then. Have a nice day, sirs, madam.” The guard tipped his hat and returned to his desk.

The Aurors were left with their guide, who promptly stuck out his hand. “Mark Allenby, Executive Secretary to Director Malfoy.”

This time it was Hermione who took the lead. “Auror Hermione Granger-Weasley, and my partners, Auror Ron Weasley and Auror Harry Potter.”

They shook hands all around while Allenby repeated that he was pleased to meet them. When introductions were made he inclined his head toward the lifts. “If you’ll follow me, please, I’ll take you right to Director Malfoy. I’m sorry sie wasn’t able to greet you hirself; it’s been a rather busy morning.”

He pressed the button for the top floor when the doors closed and within moments they opened again. “Makes a nice change from the Ministry’s lifts,” Ron commented.

Allenby chuckled. “It does, but I’m afraid only the executive lift travels direct. The other lifts do stop at every floor for memos and such.” They followed him down a richly panel corridor hung with tapestries and paintings to a large executive office.

“Will Malfoy be joining us here?” Harry asked.

Allenby looked surprised. “Here? Why would sie meet you in my office?” He crossed the room to a set of mahogany double doors. “If you please?” He motioned them inside.

Harry gaped; the inner office was the size of the entire Auror department. Three long worktables banked the floor-to-ceiling windows on one side. At least a dozen Orb consoles lined another, the printouts scrolling onto the floor. Several couches, armchairs, and occasional tables were grouped in the centre of the room in front of a massive desk. A door behind the desk opened to reveal their reluctant charge.

Malfoy cocked hir head. “Right on time, I see. I appreciate your punctuality. Please sit.” Sie waved a regal hand at the furniture grouping and strolled toward them.

They chose the grouping closest to the door. Hermione sat on a loveseat, which put her back to the entrance, but Harry and Ron chose armchairs that flanked the couch and gave them greater range of vision over the room. Malfoy took the longer curved couch across from Hermione as Allenby excused himself.

Malfoy stretched, hir olive cashmere trousers emphasising the long lines of hir legs, and crossed hir ankles. Harry followed those lines up Malfoy’s lithe body, noting how the embroidered boatneck of hir wine-coloured tunic drew the eye to Malfoy’s clearly defined clavicles and long, elegant neck while subtly emphasising the swell of hir pert breasts. Altogether it was a stunning effect, and Harry was even more relieved that the residual bruising from around Malfoy’s temple, eyes, and lips had faded so as not to mar the picture-perfect image. The silence stretched on uncomfortably for a while and finally, annoyed, Hermione cleared her throat.

“I assume Auror Potter explained the purpose of our security detail to you last night, Mer. Malfoy?”

Malfoy smirked. “He said enough. I am fully aware, Auror Granger-Weasley, that whether I like it or not I’ve been saddled with your—” sie sniffed— “questionable presence for the foreseeable future. What you hope to gain by such interference in my daily functioning I have no idea, but let me clarify something for you right now.” Hir grey eyes hardened, turning flinty and cold. “You are here supposedly to protect me. That is all. You are not to interfere or insinuate yourselves in my dealings in any way. And nothing you become privy to by your proximity to me and my dealings shall be revealed to anyone for any reason. If I have cause to believe that you or any DMLE agent has violated my privacy or the confidentiality of my dealings, there will be absolute hell to pay.” A chilling smile all teeth and threat emerged. “And pay you will, ‘til the end of your days, and those of your children and your children’s children. Are we clear?”

Despite herself Hermione shuddered. “Y-yes.”

“Here now!” Ron sputtered, getting to his feet. He brandished a finger at the magnate. “You just threatened an Auror, Malfoy, ‘at’s a criminal act. Not even your money can buy you out of Azkaban for that.” Ron pulled out his wand. “Incarcerous!” Harry cringed, expecting to see the familiar ropes bind their charge, but seconds passed and nothing happened. Flustered, Ron tried again and still nothing. It was a ridiculous tableau: Malfoy collected and nonchalant on the couch, nearly dismissive of the flushed Auror standing with his mouth hanging open in disbelief as his wand dangled uselessly.

The embroidered bell sleeves of Malfoy’s tunic slid back, adding a fragile elegance to hir impatient hand motion. “Sit down, Auror Weasley. Your alpha-male posturing and pompous grandstanding is unwelcome and unnecessary. There is a suppression field in place throughout the entire building that prevents anyone, excluding me of course,” sie smirked broadly at the Aurors, “from performing any kind of magic.”

“What? Malfoy, you little—! That’s illegal!” Ron’s face, already red, deepened to a violent shade as his temper set to blow.

“Enough!” the Director barked, sitting up sharply. “Sit down, Auror Weasley. I will not have anyone waving their wands in my face in my office!” sie said authoritatively. “Mark will provide each of you with a security badge that bypasses the suppression field. It will nullify the effect of the field. However, only security personnel have full-access badges. Staff and visitors are able to perform most spells, but the badges prohibit the use of hexes, jinxes, Dark magic, offensive attack spells, etcetera, etcetera. And it most certainly is not an illegal security measure.” Sie glowered at Ron. “The same kind of field, designed by me I might add, keyed to personnel and visitors’ badges, is in place at the Ministry and works similarly. Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely and needlessly interrupted, these are my expectations of your behaviour while I am forced to suffer your...company.

“Additionally, my staffs, including my security personnel, have been made aware of your presence and know to follow your directives should the situation warrant. I, of course, will also follow your directives. I will not, however, tolerate undue invasions of privacy, nor will I curtail any of my engagements, personal or professional, for your convenience. Have you any questions?” Malfoy relaxed back in hir seat and folded hir hands over hir knee.

Harry frowned. “Unacceptable, Malfoy. We need to have a say in what you’re doing and where you’re going if we’re to protect you properly.”

Malfoy shook hir head. “This is not a negotiation, Auror Potter. Each evening Mark will provide your team with my agenda for the following day. Your team will abide by that schedule. I will brook no opposition in this. And I have already explained to Head Auror Shacklebolt that I will not have your team coming in and trying to run my life.” The look he shot at Harry was vicious. “If you don’t like it you can take it up with him yourself.”

Harry swallowed uncomfortably at the reminder of their exchange the night before but nodded curtly, a signal that he was backing down, for now.

“Now, since you’ll be working closely together…Paul, Soren, if you would?” Sie lifted hir hand, and two tall wizards materialised from unobserved corners. Harry cursed under his breath as he’d registered no indication that they weren’t alone in the large office; so much for constant vigilance. “Auror Potter, Auror Granger-Weasley, Auror Weasley, may I present Messrs. Paul Anderson and Soren Christiansen of Anderson Security Systems.”

Paul Anderson was Harry’s height, tall but not overly so, as Ron and Soren Christiansen were. Anderson wasn’t heavily muscled like the other bodyguard, either. Sharp, engaging blue eyes revealed a keen wit as the lines around them told of his good humour. Wavy brown hair framed a face that spoke of dedication and long days in the sun. He was older than Harry and his cohort by a few years but not many; he seemed an all right sort. As did his compatriot, who besides the bulk looked an awful lot like Ron—tall, ginger, freckled, blue-eyed, with laugh and smile lines carved deeply in his face, along with a faded scar that split his eyebrow and ran the length of his visage, a grim reminder that he wasn’t as easy-going as he might seem. He reminded Harry a great deal of Charlie Weasley actually, and that boded well for their working relationship. Still, their presence was a sign that neither Malfoy nor a large segment of the population trusted in his nor the other Ministry Aurors’ abilities, and that rankled.

The men shook hands with the Aurors and sat down on either side of Malfoy to discuss tactics and security formations for public appearances. After half an hour Harry reluctantly admitted he was impressed. Though when Malfoy made to stand and Paul rose swiftly to steady hir, Harry’s temper flared and he struggled momentarily with the urge to rip the American away from the petite blond. He was relieved that no one seemed to notice his reaction. The feeling of possessiveness he had for Malfoy was disconcerting, to say the least, and he had no way to explain it.

Shortly afterward Mark Allenby returned with the promised security badges and confidentially and anti-piracy contracts that Malfoy insisted each Auror sign before the badges were distributed, which happened with much grumbling and a few weak protests. Once he had his badge Ron shot Harry a mischievous smirk and casually tossed a Tarantallegra in Malfoy’s direction. Before the incantation was fully off Ron’s lips Paul threw up a shield that rebounded the hex at twice its strength and Ron went tap-dancing across the room. Hermione quickly ended the spell and murmured something about testing the security agents’ reflexes.

“Right, just testing you. Good show. Really fast,” Ron added, flushing in embarrassment as the agents turned their disbelieving and annoyed glares his way.

From behind hir desk Malfoy snickered. “Yes, well, now that Auror Weasley has so ably demonstrated the latest ballroom sensation, let us proceed to the symposium. Mark, I’m meeting Blaise at the station right afterwards; would you have Blinky leave the parcel for Anna with him?”

Hir assistant smiled as he helped Draco into a sleeveless over-robe the same shade as hir olive trousers and embroidered with wine floss that matched hir tunic. “Of course. Give her a kiss for me,” he answered, straightening the robe’s high banded collar and smoothing the shoulders so they lay properly. “And you should expect a call from Brandon Wilder at Gladrags on the way to Hogwarts.”

Malfoy frowned. “Did he owl a proposal this morning?”

Mark sighed. “It’s the same. He won’t budge on the profile issue.”

Scowling, the director picked up a well-worn attaché, shoved in hir Signatus, a MiniOrb with portable keyboard, and a few brimming files, and stalked across the office. “Fine. Call Marie; let her know to reject any deliveries from Gladrags and prepare the children for a shoot next Sunday with Moon Frog. Have Josette prepare the usual contracts and file the charitable donation forms with the Ministry.” Malfoy threw open the direct exit and glared at hir escorts. “Well, c’mon then, I haven’t all day,” sie snapped. “Oh, and Mark, strike Wilder from the Heritage holiday party list.”

Malfoy was nearly growling as they entered the lift. “Damn sycophantic bastard! Exploitative, profit-mongering, greedy little—”

Mark chuckled and took the attaché from his employer. “Draco, calm down. You knew this was coming. You planned for it. The kids will still get what they need. It’s better this way really.”

The blonde huffed out a breath. “I know, I know, it’s just that Moon Frog isn’t as ready as they think to handle the increased production output this will cause. I wanted to give them more time, at least until spring.” Sie turned saddened eyes to hir assistant, and Harry’s breath caught at the depth of emotion there. “And I just hate this,” the young Director sighed.

“Gladrags should do the profiles because it’s right—damn the expense, damn the profits. They’re more than willing to exploit the cute-orphan factor, eager in fact. They’ll not make their profits soar at the expense of my angels, Mark.” Harry was surprised by the anger and resentment he heard in Malfoy’s melodic voice.

“Oh, are you talking about Gladrags’ annual donation to the Ministry’s War Orphans Fund? You know they—”

Harry winced inwardly at the cheerfully offered question. It was Hermione’s nature. She had no understanding of an uncalled-for (hence unwanted) opinion. She offered input on every situation because she honestly wanted to help and enjoyed problem-solving. But for her sake he feared the rising fury building in Malfoy’s molten grey eyes and pinched her forearm in a futile attempt to derail her train of thought.

Luckily for all of them Mark deftly stepped in before Malfoy could unleash hir ire. “Auror Granger-Weasley,” he said officiously, “I believe Mer. Malfoy made it clear that none of the Aurors assigned to hir security detail are to insinuate themselves into hir dealings. That would include offering unsolicited opinions or information in private conversations, wouldn’t you agree?”

Hermione looked away, abashed. “Yes, of course,” she answered woodenly. “My apologies.”

If any of them were surprised that Malfoy made no additional scathing commentary they didn’t show it. Harry, for one, was waiting for something Snape-ish along the lines of reminding Hermione to mind her place. He was glad for the reprieve, whatever the reason. Close-quarters resentment would make doing their jobs that much harder.

They stopped on the second floor to let Soren off, then stepped out on the first floor at the lower entrance of the lecture hall. Malfoy, Allenby, and Anderson went ahead, as they’d agreed, with the Aurors guarding the entrance.

“Merlin, Mione,” Ron swore when the others had gone into the hall. “Did you miss the part of the contract that reserves the right of Renaissance Foundation and Malfoy Enterprises to seek retribution for proven damages in perpetuity? Just keep quiet around that bastard. Damn!”

She nodded, chastened. “I know. I’m so sorry, Ron.”

“Look, you two, it’s done. It won’t happen again. My guess is that was our one warning. But Ron’s right, Mione, you’ve got to keep it together around Malfoy. Whatever sie says, unless it’s a discernable criminal act, we keep our mouths shut.”

She straightened her shoulders. “Got it, Harry. It won’t happen again.” She sighed. “It does make you wonder, though, what sie’s up to with all these agencies and businesses, all the deal-making and hand-shaking and back-scratching....”

Harry shrugged. “Yeah, but unless it’s to do with our investigation or keeping hir in one piece it’s none of our business.” He winked at his friend. “I’m sure you’ll have plenty to say about it all when we get back to the office.”

Hermione grinned. “I certainly will. Take this symposium, The Dangers of Muggle Pharmacology: Protecting Your Family from Muggle Medicine. Who are these people? What are they even talking about? It’s like they want to start a panic!”

Mark slipped behind her and cleared his throat. “Actually,” he frowned, “we are merely trying to ensure the public is informed about the dangers that Muggle inoculations for childhood diseases pose to a Wizarding child’s developing magical core, an issue particularly relevant to those living in predominantly Muggle areas who decide to send their children to Muggle grammar schools, and those of dual heritage whose Muggle relations might try to convince parents of the necessity of inoculations for a child’s health. Healer Edwards, in charge of paediatric medicine at St. Mungo’s, and Dr. Kelso, who is a wizard but works primarily with Squibs and complementary medicine, have been studying the effects of Muggle inoculations on magical children for the last twenty-five years.”

The three Aurors were chastened and Mark continued, “I suggest that all of you stop jumping to conclusions about what we do at Renaissance Foundation. Director Malfoy briefed me on your…rather tumultuous history and your likely reactions to hir and hir work. From what I’ve seen sie made highly accurate predictions. I’d say that perhaps you need to consider that the so-called blood-purity bias wasn’t just unidirectional if you’re going to label every action of Wizard-borns suspect. And I would remind you that your comments, your opinions, your questions, and your assessments are inappropriate in this setting. You are here as Aurors to protect our Director from threat. Save your conjectures for your own time,” he smirked. “That is, unless you’re certain you won’t violate the contracts you signed today by doing so.”

They watched, slack-jawed, as he turned and strode from the hallway, his crisp pin-striped robes snapping behind him. “Well…” Harry began.

“Mouths shut,” Ron piped up.

The three shared a look. “Mouths shut,” they said together.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It wasn’t much longer before Malfoy and the two agents from Anderson Security rejoined them (Malfoy evidently had only attended to make the opening remarks) and directed them to a large room near the entry hall’s Floo. It was the only place in the building, excluding the Director’s office, someone could Apparate into or from. A moment later they were at the Hogsmeade station where a carriage harnessed to four white horses waited. A face familiar to the Aurors greeted them.

“Draco!”

“Blaise!” The blonde was hugged thoroughly by hir friend and Harry bristled as their lips met in a chaste kiss of greeting.

“What’s with the entourage?”

The magnate chuckled. “Security. Someone’s trying to kill me,” sie stage-whispered.

“When aren’t they?” Zabini asked dryly.

“Prat!” Malfoy slapped the back of hir hand against hir friend’s chest. “C’mon, I want to see everything and get to Hogwarts.”

Zabini sighed dramatically as he and Malfoy entered the coach. “Of course. Why you would you want to spend time in my company when such a beauty awaits your arrival?”

Malfoy smiled genuinely and Harry was amazed at how such a simple act transformed hir face. “Of course. Too bad you can’t say the same about the woman waiting for you at home.”

“I’m telling Pansy you said that.” The dark-skinned man grinned.

They’d barely got underway when Malfoy went still. Harry recognised the look; hir AFR had chimed and was now announcing the caller. He was proven correct a moment later when Malfoy raised hir hand to tap twice on the silver filigree cuff adorning hir ear, accepting the call.

“Malfoy,” sie answered with a hardened voice, once again the powerful powerbroker rather than the easy-going friend. “Yes, hello, Brandon. I received your owl this morning, yes. Tell me honestly, Brandon, would the additional six pages really put you that far over your catalogue budget? It’s six pages and could mean a world a difference in the lives of these children. Hmm…oh yes, I know, like a Goblin, really. I see. Well, I’ve considered it and I have to say I’m rather disappointed that Gladrags can’t accommodate us. You’ll have to break it to them gently, I suppose, but the children of Heritage House will be sporting the winter Moon Frog collection. No, I won’t accept another proposal, Brandon; you did your best, of course. Get in touch with Josette; she’ll handle receipts for—I really don’t think that’s a good idea, Brandon. Maybe the spring collection. We’ll be in touch.” Malfoy again tapped hir ear cuff twice to disconnect the call and sat back with a sigh.

“Didn’t go well with Gladrags?” Zabini asked with concern.

Malfoy held up a hand. “Just a minute, Blaise, let me—” Hir long-time friend nodded and Malfoy went back to work. Sie tapped hir ear cuff again and spoke hir desired connection. “Gertrude Banks, Moon Frog Clothier.” Sie fished hir Signatus from hir attaché as sie waited and began speaking nearly as soon as sie’d turned the device on. “Gerty, it’s Draco…Yes, yes I did, now you can say I told you so.” Malfoy smiled then elbowed Blaise as sie laughed. “Yes, I know you told me they would. All right, well, can you help me out? Yes, full winter wardrobes and accessories for eighty-seven children. Everything, Gerty, they shoot up like stalks at this age. Coordinate with Marie, she runs Heritage House, for sizes and styles. Mmmhmm, yes, full access to the grounds for your catalogue shoot as long as I get complete wardrobes, personal profiles for twenty of my children, and a central spread with contact information for the Department of Child Welfare and Family Services with a blurb on the joys and ease of the adoption process. Perfect. You’re a treasure, Gertrude Banks. Of course I mean it. Oh? Well…Gerty, if you can make it happen next Sunday I wouldn’t be surprised to see your Moon Frog adverts in Witch Weekly the following Monday. Hmm…Whimzic Alley’s commercial breaks? Possibly, I’ll make some calls and get back to you about the soap opera. Get an express owl to my office and I’ll sign off on it. Great. Thank you, Gerty.” Malfoy tapped off hir ear cuff with a triumphant flourish and grinned broadly at Zabini.

His friend laughed. “Draco, you are the master.”

Malfoy shrugged but was still grinning in such a way that hir excitement was contagious to everyone in the carriage. Harry thought sie was radiant. “Yes, well, my brilliance abounds. My angels will all have trendy new winter clothes and Moon Frog will be the biggest name in children’s apparel by the time of their spring debut. It’s a win-win. Handle things with the advertising, would you, Blaise? I don’t care about the loss of advertising revenue. I just want to be sure things are done right for Moon Frog.”

Zabini nodded pulling out his own Signatus. “It’s for Moon Frog, so if I don’t handle it myself Pansy will have my head. She’s been trying to help Lavender really get this company off the ground for the last year.”

Malfoy hummed and nodded. “Damn Gryffindor pride,” sie said almost fondly. “Don’t worry, Blaise, she’ll come around. You know Gryffindors are a bit thick so it may take her a while to understand what we mean when we say that Slytherins always stand by their true friends and honour our debts, but she’ll get it eventually.” Both Slytherins ignored Ron’s snort. “Pansy will need to talk to Lav about the increasing production, though.” They continued talking logistics and production schedules, fully caught up in their business affairs, for the rest of the trip, making the tour of the venues for the next day’s festival uneventful.

As the carriage returned to the main thoroughfare for the trip to Hogwarts, Blaise pointed to the tall rectangular case Malfoy’s house-elf, Blinky, had left with him at the station.

“Gifts for Anna?”

Malfoy smiled and Hermione elbowed Harry slightly. “Anna?” she mouthed. Harry shrugged. Anna had been mentioned before but she was an unknown to the investigators, which made him slightly uneasy.

“Roses from the cottage greenhouse. You know how she loves them.”

“True,” Blaise answered. “And let me guess…gingerbread.

Harry was shocked to see a gentle blush warm Malfoy’s features. Sie nodded and smiled gently. “Helene and I got up early—”

Zabini frowned. “You mean you didn’t get hardly any sleep at all.” He shot a glare at Harry. “Helene sent me an owl this morning, Draco. I know what happened last night.”

Malfoy sighed and tiredly waved the inquiry away. “I’m fine, Blaise. Look, psychotics aside, I’m gay, I’m triarii, and you know how some Muggles react to people who don’t fit in nice, neat identity boxes.”

Blaise shook his head violently. “Not good enough, Draco. You have to take better care of yourself. Those damn Muggles could have killed you!”

“Not likely. I’m not completely incapable of defending myself, you know,” Malfoy scoffed.

“I’m not saying that at all. You’re fast, you’re strong, and you know more hexes than most wizards living. But that’s not the point. Merlin, Draco, it’s not just about you any more. Anna would be destroyed if something happened to you!”

The Aurors watched with great interest as Malfoy paled. Who was Anna? And what did she mean to Malfoy that the thought of hir loss would impact her so deeply? Harry desperately wanted to know, yet somehow dreaded the answer.

A few deep breaths and Malfoy regained hir composure. “I would never leave Anna without resources,” sie hissed.

Zabini cast a look of acute censure at his friend. “It’s not about the money and you know it, Malfoy. She would be lost without you.”

Malfoy turned hir head. “I know,” sie said softly. “I am being more careful, Blaise. I would never willingly leave her. She’s everything I work for.”

A dark hand gently clasped Malfoy’s pale one. “I know, Draco. I just worry. Pansy, too. There’s a madman running loose and you’re our best friend. We worry.”

Malfoy smirked. “I love you too, Zabini,” sie said softly as the carriage came to a stop.

Harry did a visual scan of their immediate surroundings before clearing them to leave the coach. There was no one outside the main doors besides five girls wrapped in warm cloaks and sporting scarves from all the houses lying in wait on the steps. The Aurors exited first, setting up a triangular perimeter. On the grounds of Hogwarts it was probably unnecessary, but Harry had learned time and again that it was better to be safe than sorry. Soren Christiansen came out next and stood right beside the carriage doors. Blaise stepped down and then Paul Anderson who, Harry noted, placed his hands rather boldly around Draco’s trim waist as the blonde left the carriage.

“Vama!” the smallest of the gathered girls cried and she ran toward the carriage, arms outstretched, bright white-blonde tendrils escaping from the Dutch braids that framed her elfin face.

In the next moment as Malfoy answered, three gobsmacked Aurors could have been knocked over with a feather.

“Anna!”

The blond bent and scooped the gigging girl into hir arms, bussed her nose, and pressed a kiss on her cheek. “I’ve missed you, Petal.”

Gaping, Harry turned to his best friends, who closed ranks beside him. “Malfoy has a daughter?” he asked dumbly.

Ron blinked. “Well, that’s something new for the reports.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Triarii-specific Terminology:
Vamar: Parent, usually shortened to vama, or vam
Veru: Triarii spouse


Chapter 3 Review Responses
Thank you all for the reviews, can’t tell you how much I appreciate them!!

Sheree: No there isn’t, Harry will come to understand that pretty quickly but he might have a rough go convincing his friends. I’ve never understood it either. Why wouldn’t the magical world be proud of their history (but then with Binns teaching maybe they never learned anything much to be proud of).

Mehla Seraphim: I’m on it! Harry sometimes needs to be taken down a peg or three and I think Helene’s just the woman to do it!

thrnbrooke: Here it is! Hope you enjoyed it!

Omizu: Thank you! I hope you’ll find them enjoyable!

Rakel: Thank you very much! Hyper cheerleader mode, eh? Those pom poms better be silver and green!