How to Save a Life

With less than a week left of their holidays, the days seemed to hurry past with alarming speed. For once in his life, Harry was not looking forward to returning to Hogwarts. The castle that had been his refuge from the Dursleys, the one place he could truly be himself, had now become the once place where he felt the need to hide who he was, more than anything.

His time at the Manor had been perfect. Escapism at its best. The thought of returning to school, of having to hide how he felt about Draco, left more than a bitter taste in his mouth. And it wasn’t just the sex he would miss - though that had been a bloody revelation - it was the multitude of little ways that they would let the other know how they felt.

Tender kisses, holding hands, intense gazes, all would have to be carefully hidden once they were back within the walls of Hogwarts.

That this need not be the case never occurred to Harry. He genuinely believed that going public with their relationship would only open him and Draco up to an intolerable level of scrutiny. Not only did the mere though of Rita Skeeter make him want to hide away forever, but he truly believed that he was protecting the blond from further hostility.

For while the Wizarding world may be able to come to terms with the fact that their Saviour was gay, he seriously doubted their ability to accept that he was in love with someone who many people still though of as a Death Eater.

Despite the lack of Mark on Draco’s arm, and his acquittal by the Wizengamot, most people just had to hear his surname, and see the resemblance to his father, and he was condemned instantly.

A fiery pit of resentment burned within Harry. After everything he had endured, lost, and sacrificed, he still wasn’t free to live his life. People still felt like he was public property and his every move was reported and scrutinised. Harry began to despair that he would ever be allowed a ‘normal’ life.

Draco seemed equally distracted, although Harry suspected that his concerns lay in a different direction. In the days that had passed since their party, Draco had seemed to withdraw slowly. It was nothing so obvious that his mother or aunt would notice it. But for Harry, who spent almost 24 hours a day with the blond, it was unmissable.

There was no one single thing that Harry could point to, but there were numerous little ways that Draco revealed his inner turmoil to his boyfriend’s watchful gaze. The way he would pick listlessly at his food, or the glazed, distant look that filled his eyes when he thought he was alone.

Draco was becoming increasingly irritable. And though he was careful not to take it out on Harry, it was fair to say that Pansy, and the Manor’s house-elves, felt the sharp edge of his tongue on numerous occasions.

His sleep was restless, and only the night before Harry had walked in on him downing a vial of Dreamless Sleep. Not that Harry was averse to using potions, but he just wished that his boyfriend felt like he could tell him what was wrong, and let him help.

Harry was now convinced that it was the result of something that had happened to Draco at Easter, and that somehow Luna was involved. But more than that, he didn’t know. But Gryffindor that he was, Harry did not want to wait patiently. They would be returning to school in two days time and he was determined to unravel this mystery before then - wether Draco liked it of not!

His best option, he knew, would be to speak to Pansy about it. But the Slytherin girl hadn’t been in the most approachable of moods herself lately. Charlie Weasley had stopped by two days ago to say his goodbyes before returning to Romania. And whilst Pansy had known this was coming, and was heading back to school herself anyway, that didn’t stop her from plunging, headfirst, into a fit of the sulks.

Harry seized his opportunity that afternoon when he entered the sitting room and found, a relaxed looking Pansy, sprawled on the floor playing with Teddy.

He sank to the floor alongside her and reached out to pick up his godson, who was clapping excitedly at the sight of him. He settled the happy baby in his lap and couldn’t help but smile when he noticed the cuddly green dragon clutched in his chubby fist.

“I’m going to miss this when we’re back at school.” Harry pressed a light kiss to the top of his godson’s head.

“Yeah,” Pansy agreed. “A lot has changed over the holidays.”

Harry tried to ignore the knowing smirk that was aimed in his direction, choosing instead to jump in with both feet.

“Pansy, what’s wrong with Draco? He’s obviously got something on his mind, and I think that you know what it is.”

Pansy looked a little startled by his directness and didn’t reply instantly. Just as Harry was about to repeat his question, she spoke softly.

“I’m not really sure,” she admitted. Then, seeing the disbelieving look on Harry’s face, she continued. “Oh, I know something is bothering him and I have a vague idea of what it might be. But Draco’s not one for making confidences, you know?”

“So what do you think it is,” Harry pressed. “It’s something to do with what happened to him at Easter, isn’t it?”

Pansy’s eyes widened. “He told you about that?”

“No. You just did.”

Pansy shook her head reluctantly. “I really don’t know much about what happened. Just that when he came back to school, he was different, quieter. But there was this anger that you could just see burning in his eyes. I tried asking him about it, but you know how he is. All I know is that it had something to do with that blonde Ravenclaw girl.”

“Luna?”

“Yes. Didn’t you see how uptight he got at the Halloween dance? Just because he had to sit next to her. That’s why he threw a fit at me for inviting her on New Years Eve.”

“Is that why you invited her?” Harry asked curiously.

“Yes. He needs to confront whatever it is. You and I both know how bad it is to bottle things up like that.”

“You don’t think…” Harry couldn’t bring himself to finish the question, he was that alarmed at the prospect.

“Merlin, No! That’s not Draco’s style at all. He’s far more likely to wait till we’re back at school and then hex some first years. He can be quite vicious when he wants.”

“I can imagine,” Harry replied, a wry smile on his face.

“Theo still gets a nervous tic at the sight of Mrs. Norris after Draco Transfigured him into a cat last year.”

“At least it wasn’t a ferret.” Harry chuckled softly.

A smile played at the edges of Pansy’s mouth. “I wouldn’t make that joke to Draco if I were you. It’s still a very sore subject, even after all this time.”

Harry nodded, smiling. He remembered only too well how his boyfriend had responded to the nickname ‘ferret’ over the years.

“So how about you, Harry? I’m sure that Teddy isn’t the only thing you’ll miss when you get back to school.” Pansy had a sly smile on her face and Harry just knew what she was implying.

“I’m not looking forward to going back,” he admitted honestly. “Being here, not having to hide or pretend, it’s been amazing. Going back to school, and having to hide who I am from my friends, the thought makes me feel sick. I don’t like lying to them.”

“So don’t then,” Pansy replied, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “Tell them the truth. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Are you serious? What’s the worst that could happen? How about they don’t accept it and I lose them?” Harry could feel his calm slipping.

“I don’t think they would do that. But if they did, then they weren’t your friends to start with.” Pansy shifted awkwardly. “Harry, you can tell me to mind my own business if you like, but I think that it’s time for you and Draco to come out of the proverbial closet.”

Harry took a deep breath before replying. “Why?” He demanded harshly. “It’s no one else’s business what we are to each other. We know how we feel and that’s all that matters.”

“To you, maybe. But I think that it bothers Draco.”

It was Harry’s turned to look stunned. “What? He’s never said.”

“Well, he wouldn’t, would he? That’s not how Draco operates. He’s never said anything to me about it either.”

“So how do you know then?” For the life of him, Harry couldn’t help snapping.

“I didn’t say that I know, just that I think. Look, Harry. I’ve known Draco for a lot longer than you have, almost his entire life, and there are some things you should probably understand about him, things he’ll never tell you himself.”

“Like what?” Harry asked nervously, his mind racing with possibilities

“His parents love him, never doubt that. But, well, the pureblood way of raising children is a little different, especially for the male heir to the family. Draco was never allowed to just be, he was always having to strive to reach unattainable targets. I think his parents just wanted to encourage him to be the best he could be, but they just set him up to fail.”

Pansy paused and ran her fingers through her dishevelled hair. “His father is a perfectionist, and nothing short of this in his son was good enough. Draco had to be the best, at everything, or incur his father’s displeasure.”

Harry’s eyes widened in alarm at this. “You mean…?”
Pansy shook her head, understanding what he was asking. “No, they never raised a hand to Draco as far as I know. He idolised his father, and the knowledge that he had displeased him hurt him far more than any belt or cane could.”

“I don’t understand what this has to do with him wanting to tell people about us?” Harry frowned in confusion.

“Just this. Draco has never felt like he was good enough. I know he comes across as arrogant, but that’s just a mask. Inside, he’s as insecure as they come. I think that he takes your reluctance to tell people, as a sign that you don’t think he’s good enough for you. That you’re just killing time with him until someone more worthwhile comes along.”

Harry set his squirming godson down on the floor and turned stunned eyes to Pansy. “But he can’t think that. He knows how I feel about him.”

“I’m sure he does. But I think that on some level, some small part of him just thinks you’re ashamed of him.”

Harry slumped back against the edge of the nearest sofa and rubbed his hand over his eyes. “I had no idea he felt like that. Why wouldn’t he tell me?” He cringed at the faint note of pleading in his voice, but he had to know.

Pansy just shrugged. “Because that’s just Draco. He’s opened up more to you these last few months than I’ve ever seen before. But everyone has their secrets, don’t they?” She wound up with a meaningful glance at Harry, who flushed at the reminder of the things they were both keeping hidden from the blond.

“So what do I do? I don’t want him feeling like that.”

Pansy smiled. “You already know the answer to that.”

Harry heaved a deep sigh. He knew on some level that Pansy was right, but there were so many implications that she couldn’t understand.

“It’s not that simple. If I thought that it would make everything okay, I’d stand on the teacher’s table at dinner and declare it to the whole school.”

“That’s not a half-bad idea, you know. Draco would pretend to be horrified, but secretly he’d love it.”

Harry just stared at Pansy as if she had suddenly lost her mind.

“It’s just a suggestion,” she defended.

“A bad one,” Harry muttered. “Look, this isn’t really about me. Okay, well it’s partly about me. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about my friend’s reactions, or about the Prophet getting hold of the news. But if worst comes to the worst, I’ll survive. Rejection and public scrutiny are things I’m very experienced at handling.” Harry let out a bitter laugh that caused Pansy to wince.

“But do you think for one minute that people would leave Draco alone, once they found out it was him? Harry Potter - gay, and with a Death Eater! - it’s enough to make Rita Skeeter drool, never mind the rest of those morons who claim to be journalists.”

“But Draco wasn’t a Death Eater,” Pansy argued.

“I know that and so do you, even the Wizengamot grasped it, but you’ve seen how people look at him, how they treat him because of who his father is. Do you really think that it won’t get worse once they get it into their heads that he’s corrupting their ‘Saviour’?”

The scornful edge in Harry’s voice caused Pansy to flinch. “So you’re protecting him?”

Harry paused thoughtfully for a moment before replying. “Look, Pansy, I’ll be honest. I’d rather not have my life opened up to public scrutiny any more than it already is. But I would put up with it if I thought it could help make Draco happy. But I won’t open him up to that kind of hostile attention.”

“Do you really think it would be that bad?”

Harry scoffed. “It’ll be bad enough when they find out that their ‘Golden Boy’ is less than perfect. Just imagine how they’ll react to the news that, not only am I queer, but that I’m queer for a Malfoy!”

Pansy nodded slowly, forced to admit there was some truth in this statement. Neither of them had heard the door open as Draco entered the room in time to hear Harry’s last words. Only having heard part of what his boyfriend said, he quickly leapt to his won conclusions. Harry’s words just seemed to confirm all his worst fears.

“Well, that’s just fucking charming, Potter. At least I know how you really feel now.” Draco spat the words venomously, his eyes blazing with anger. Without waiting for a reply, he quickly turned on his heel and swiftly exited the room.

Harry was frozen on the spot. He just sat and gaped in horror at the space his boyfriend had recently occupied.

“Go after him, idiot,” Pansy urged. The sharp poke she gave him brought him back to his senses. Harry quickly scrambled to his feet and hurried after the blond. He was moments too late, though. He entered the drawing room just in time to see Draco step into the fireplace and vanish in a burst of green flames.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco didn’t return before dinner and Harry didn’t feel up to facing the questions that would inevitably be asked. He took the cowards way out and had Tilly bring some food to his room, leaving Pansy to make what excuses she would for his and Draco’s absence.

He barely touched the food that the elf brought him. Instead, he wallowed in a hot bath, trying desperately to work out where his boyfriend and gone, and how on earth he was going to sort this mess out. He tried to ignore the tiny voice that kept telling him that if only he had just been honest about his fears in the first place, then none of this would have happened.

Harry got out of the bath and dressed in the pyjamas that Draco had gotten him for Christmas. A look outside at the cold wintry evening left him even more concerned for the blond’s welfare. He made his way into Draco’s room and curled up in the bed. At least this way he would know when his boyfriend returned. Seeking any form of comfort he could, Harry reached out and snagged Draco’s worn-out stuffed lion towards him.

“Looks like it’s just you and me tonight, Rory,” he murmured, as he cuddled the soft body close to him, inhaling the scent of his boyfriend that lingered on the animal’s sparse fur.

It was some hours later when Harry next blearily opened his eyes. A quick Tempus told him that it was past two in the morning. He flung an arm behind him to find the other half of the bed was still unoccupied; Draco had certainly not come to bed, if he was even home yet.

Harry slipped out of bed and shrugged on his dressing gown and slippers. He made his way quietly out of the room and down the hallway to the main staircase; the wall sconces dimly lighting the way. The house was in virtual silence, except for the distant sound of activity, which could have been Draco, but Harry figured was more likely to be the house-elves. That thought having given him an idea, Harry called “Tilly” quietly, and waited for the elf to appear.

“How can I be helping Harry Potter, Sir?” If Tilly was surprised to be summoned thus in the middle of the night, she did not show it.

“Do you know if Draco has come back yet?” Harry wanted to know.

The elf nodded. “Yes, Sir. Master Draco returned about half an hour ago.”

This didn’t make Harry feel any better. Draco was obviously still too angry at him to be near him. But there was no way that he could sleep again without trying to set things right.

“Tilly, do you know where Draco is?”

The elf started nervously. “Umm, Master Draco is not wanting anyone to know, Sir.”

“He wouldn’t mind if you told me, though,” Harry coaxed, fixing his best puppy dog eyes on the elf, hoping they worked as well on her as they usually did on his boyfriend.

The small creature shifted nervously and Harry could see her gulping. “I is not sure. Master Draco told Tilly not to tell anyone where he goes.”

Harry caught this. “Goes? You mean he disappears off somewhere often?”

There was no reply, only a small nod.

“You have to tell me where he is now. I need to find him.” Harry used his most commanding voice and he could see the elf’s resolve weakening. Rather than speak, a small knobbly hand was thrust into his, and the small creature began leading him through the house.

“I is showing you, Sir. Tilly doesn’t want Harry Potter to get lost.”

The hallways were dimly lit so Harry didn’t really recognise where he was being led, though he did know it was a part of the Manor he had not yet been in during his stay. Then he felt a sickening sense of realisation where he was going; at the end of the corridor was the doorway to the cellar that he had been held prisoner in. The door was already open and a faint light was coming from within.

His guide came to a stop. “Master Draco is in there,” the elf whispered nervously before disappearing.

Harry felt a wave nausea sweep over him. Coming back to the Manor had been one thing, but going down there, into the cellar, he wasn’t sure he could do it. Then he remembered that that was where Draco was, and that if his suspicions about the reasons for his boyfriend’s recent behaviour were right, then it was the last place that the blond should be.

He approached the doorway cautiously, swallowing down the bile that threatened to rise in his throat. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, all thoughts of his own discomfort fled when he made out Draco’s huddled form at the bottom of the steps. Harry made his way quickly down into the cellar and crouched in front of his boyfriend.

“Draco,” he said gently, uncertain of what kind of reaction he might get.

Wide, unseeing, grey eyes stared at him from a face blank of all expression.

“Draco,” Harry tried again, starting to feel panic rise within him. He noticed that the blond was shaking slightly. Uncertain if it was from the cold, or his state of mind, Harry reached out and tentatively took hold of Draco’s hands.

“You’re freezing!” Harry ran his hand up Draco’s arm and found that his robes were wet. “Tilly!” he shouted.

A loud crack sounded and the wide-eyed elf appeared again. She looked nervously at Draco as if expecting to be punished for revealing his location. If Draco noticed her presence, he did not acknowledge it. Before the elf could begin spluttering the apologies that Harry knew were coming, he spoke firmly:

“Tilly, I need you to go up to Draco’s bathroom and run a hot bath for him. Get some clean pyjamas ready, oh, and you might put a Warming Charm on the bed too.”

The elf nodded and hurried off to do his bidding. Harry didn’t pay attention, he was too busy pulling Draco to his feet and stripping him of his sodden clothing.

“You’re a prat, you know that?” he said affectionately. “You could catch pneumonia, sitting down here, soaking wet. Are you trying to kill yourself?”

Recognition seemed to dawn in the lifeless grey eyes. “No,” Draco mumbled.

Harry tugged off his dressing gown and began to wrap it round the blond. “C’mon, let’s get you upstairs and into a hot bath, before you catch your death.”

Draco allowed himself to be led up out of the cellar, casting one final glance over his shoulder as they left. Harry did not miss the faint shudder that ran through the blond’s body.

Harry eventually got his boyfriend upstairs and into the bathroom, though it had involved virtually carrying the blond part of the way. He stripped, a still unresponsive, Draco, and gently led him towards the steaming tub.

“Come on, in you get,” he coaxed as if speaking to small child.

Draco voiced no objections and meekly obeyed. He clambered into the bath and sank gratefully into the hot water. The shock of the change in body temperature seemed to bring him back to his senses.

“So,” Harry said uncertainly as he watched the tremors in the blond’s body subside. “You want to tell me what that was all about?”

“Not really,” Draco admitted softly, refusing to make eye contact. “But I will.”

Harry knelt at the side of the bath and waited patiently for his boyfriend to begin. He trailed his fingertips in the bubbles and Draco reached out and took hold of his hand, intertwining their fingers, holding his hand as if it were a lifeline.

“It was Aunt Bellatrix,” he whispered hoarsely.

Harry wanted to rage, and demand to know what that bitch of a woman had done now, but he didn’t want to shatter the blond’s fragile calm. So he bit his tongue and squeezed Draco’s hand encouragingly.

“I didn’t know she was here, you know.”

“Who?” Harry was confused. “Bellatrix?”

“No. Lovegood. I didn’t know she was here until I got home at Easter. I knew about the old man, Ollivander, but not about Lovegood.”

It seemed to be a matter of some importance so Harry replied carefully. “I believe you.”

Draco looked at him intently for a moment before nodding in satisfaction. Harry could only assume that he had found whatever it was he was looking for.

“They sent me down into that cellar to take food to the prisoners. When I saw her there, I felt sick. She wasn’t some stranger, some Muggle, she was a girl I went to school with; it just made everything feel so real, so near.”

Draco paused for a moment as he clambered out of the bath.

“Are you sure you’ve warmed up properly,” Harry asked, concerned.

“I’m fine, honestly,” Draco reassured him.

Harry reached for a thick white fluffy towel and wrapped it round his boyfriend’s naked form. “Let me,” he said softly, and Draco acquiesced.

While his boyfriend dried him with loving care, Draco resumed his story.

“Aunt Bella used to send me down all the time to take food to them. She found it funny to treat a ‘proud Malfoy’ like a house-elf. I couldn’t say anything, nor my parents; we weren’t exactly in favour with Voldemort by then. The food they sent would barely have kept one of them alive, never mind two of them.”

Draco stopped here and looked into Harry’s emerald green eyes. “I couldn’t watch them starve. It was bad enough that they were there and I couldn’t do anything about it, but I could at least try to see that they ate better. I started smuggling extra food down for them, nothing too obvious, just little things. I managed it for two days before I was found out.”

A shiver ran through the blond’s body and Harry wasn’t sure if it was due to his recollections, or to the cold. He quickly grabbed the warm pyjamas that Tilly had left by the door and began to dress Draco.

“It was Aunt Bella that caught me. She just laughed and said that because they’d been given something they didn’t deserve, that they would have to pay for it. She was going to torture one of them and she wanted me to pick which one. But I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t choose. How could I pick between an old man and a girl younger than me? There was just no way.”

“She got mad then, because I wouldn’t play her game, so she decided to punish me instead. She said I was pathetic and weak, and that it needed to be beaten out of me. She chained me to the wall and tortured me in front of them.”

“How?” Harry whispered. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to know the answer but he had to ask.

“Cruciatus,” Draco answered. “I’ve never known pain like it before. I don’t know how long she held me under, but I screamed that much that it made my throat bleed. I must have passed out, because the next thing I knew, I was waking up in my bedroom and he was there.”

“Voldemort?” Harry asked.

Draco shook his head. “No, Rastaban LeStrange. I tried to sit up, but I ached so much, and anyway, as soon as I tried, he backhanded me across the face. Said I was nothing more than a traitor, and it was time I learned where my loyalties should lie.”

Draco began trembling again, so Harry hurriedly buttoned up his pyjama top and led the blond into the bedroom. He lay Draco back against the mountain of fluffy pillows and tucked Rory, the lion, in at his side. It was a sign of how distracted he was, that Draco did not protest this at all, he merely cuddled the toy closer.

He turned his face to look at his boyfriend, and Harry could see that Draco was biting his lip and that his eyes were starting to fill with unshed tears. He crouched at the side of the bed and stroked his hand over the blond head.

“Dray, you don’t have to carry on. Not if it’s upsetting you.”

“It’s okay. I want to finish, but I won’t go into detail, if that’s alright?”

“Of course it is,” Harry reassured him. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

“He tried to rape me,” Draco blurted out suddenly, and Harry was that shocked that he wasn’t entirely sure of what he had heard. But Draco didn’t give time for questions.

“He put me in a Body-Bind and began touching me. It was horrible; I was still in so much pain from what Aunt Bella had done and I couldn’t do anything to stop him. When he began pulling my trousers off, I just wanted to die.”

Draco’s voice cracked slightly on this last sentence and Harry had his arms round him instantly, rocking him gently.

“Mother stopped him. One of the house-elves had told her what had happened, and she flew into my room like some kind of avenging angel. I’ve never seen her like that before; it was the first time I could see that she was a true Black, and not some docile Malfoy wife. I thought she was going to kill him at one point, but she settled for some fairly unpleasant curses instead. One of which removed his balls.” Draco gave a bitter laugh at this.

“Didn’t she get punished for it?”

Draco shook his head. “No. Believe it or not, Aunt Bella was quite wary of Mother. Besides, Voldemort was quite the homophobe, so I doubt that Rastaban would have found any sympathy there. He would have more likely been punished again for his preferences.”

They sat for a few minutes in silence, Harry’s arms still tight round the blonde.

“Harry.” Draco’s voice was soft.

Harry lifted his cheek up from where it rested on the top of the blond’s head. “Hmm?”

“I’m glad I told you that, but do you think we could not mention it again? It’s not something I like to think about, if I can help it.”

Harry nodded slowly. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

“Okay then, I won’t bring it up again. But I am glad that you told me too.” He leaned in to give the blond a quick kiss, but Draco pulled away from him.

“I’m still mad at you,” he said in a tight voice.

Harry’s heart sank at this. For a brief moment he had forgotten that they were fighting.

“Draco,” he began uncertainly. “About what I said earlier. It wasn’t what you thought, you know. I don’t care that you’re a Malfoy, or a Slytherin, or who your dad is. I love you, Draco Malfoy.”

Some of the tension eased from the blond’s body at these words. “It didn’t sound like you did earlier,” he muttered.

“Well it’s true.” Harry sighed. “Look, if it will make you feel better, I’ll get up on the table at dinner and announce it to the whole of the Great Hall. I don’t want to keep us a secret because I’m ashamed of you. Nothing could be further from the truth.”

“Then why?” Draco demanded a touch petulantly.

“Because I’m worried how people will react to you once they find out. In the fourth year, when people thought Hermione was my girlfriend, she got all kinds of hate mail. Someone even sent her bubotuber puss, and I’m just scared of what they might try to do to you. I won’t have them making out you’re some kind of deviant who’s corrupting an innocent.”

“My hero,” Draco teased, but nonetheless leaned in and gave his boyfriend a quick kiss.

“So we’re okay?” Harry asked, a little dazed by his boyfriend’s changing moods.

“For now, Potter. But I won’t be hidden away forever, and you can’t keep be wrapped up like some kind of fragile ornament. I’ve survived worse than what any of those stupid idiots can throw at me.”

“I’ll tell Ron and Hermione about us, I promise.”

“When?” Draco wasn’t about to let Harry get away that lightly. “As soon as we get back?”

“Umm, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Ron’s quite likely to explode when I tell him, so I’d like to do it when there aren’t many people around. Next Hogsmeade weekend, I’ll ask them to stay behind with me and I’ll tell them then, okay?”

“I suppose it will have to be,” Draco replied begrudgingly. “But make sure you do. I won’t be anyone’s dirty little secret - not even yours.”