Luxor, Egypt

Nothing could have prepared Harry for this. The worst he had ever experienced was when Petunia made him do the gardening in summer, but this was altogether different.

The heat.

Everything was perfectly fine at first… When the Weasleys, Grangers, and the lone Potter landed at their destination in the British magical embassy in Luxor, Harry found himself in a rather comfortable environment. High walls and ceilings made of softly shining white stone, the ceilings depicting scenes of a lightly cloudy day which reminded him of the ceiling of the Hogwarts Great Hall, all came together to give Harry the impression of an absolutely perfect British summer day. After gathering themselves, the British group left the building, following Bill, Ron's older brother, towards where they would be staying. And though the sky outside was just as bright blue, and slightly cloudy, it was then that Harry finally understood what people meant by "desert heat".

As soon as he walked outside, he felt a wave of hot, dry air rush over him. It felt like he was standing in front of Petunia's oven, the blast of hot air almost strong enough to singe his eyebrows.

The whole group, except for Bill, started sweating profusely. With a look at all of them, Bill smiled a small commiserating smile, and offered everyone a Cooling charm. The Weasleys accepted immediately, and the Grangers too, once Hermione explained the charm to her parents. As Bill cast the charm on all of them, Harry felt as if a cool breeze had blown and pushed all the heat away, and kept it away too. As he looked around to see everyone's reaction, he caught Hermione's eyes widen and then stare at Bill with a look of wonder, and she blushed slightly when she realized Harry caught her look. 'Wow… that's a lot of power' she mimed, and Harry, who could read Hermione's lips through years of practice, could do nothing but nod back with his own eyebrows raised. It took a lot of power to cast a charm on a group of 10 people, and having the effects last.

Harry thanked Bill, who shrugged it off good-naturedly. Harry was surprised by Bill in many ways. When Ron originally told Harry of his older brothers, he had told of Bill having been the Head Boy at Hogwarts, and so Harry had assumed that Bill would be similar to Percy. Studious, hard-working, but an even bigger stickler for the rules than Hermione was normally. But Bill was nothing like that in any way Harry could see.

He was tall, like Percy and Ron, but rather less lanky. A bit of a cross between Ron and the twins. His Weasley red hair was long, rakishly long, and the long part of the ponytail that was peeking from under his white turban, was a dark shade of red that reminded Harry of Fawkes in his prime. A shiny color that seemed to have a subtle sheen in the Egyptian sun. His face was heavily freckled, but it seemed like he had also actually managed to develop a bit of tan in his time in the desert. He seemed to have taken on the manner of the locals in ways other than the turban too. Long billowy pants, and a loose white shirt decorated in really colorful twirling designs seemed rather more comfortable in the desert heat than the normal British clothes the rest of the group was wearing. The only part of Bill's appearance that didn't match either British or Egyptian dress was an earring he wore that looked like a long fang of some sort. Harry wondered what kind of animal that fang had come from. And if his appearance was different than what he expected, then Bill's personality was even more so.

He seemed rather easy going, having a smile for everyone he met, and his interactions with the Grangers indicated that he was no stranger to interaction with Muggles at all. He seemed to be patient with them, happy to explain anything the Grangers had questions about (the stream of questions was constant, and Harry could see where Hermione got her curiosity from), but not condescendingly so. And the fluent way he spoke the local language with the Egyptian wizards they had passed by, seemed to suggest that Bill actually made an effort to get along with everyone they met there. In fact, it seemed like Bill had spoken two different foreign languages to the different wizards! He was clearly intelligent, magically powerful, and competent in general, if what Harry had heard about the curse-breaking profession was true. Yet he didn't seem full of himself at all. Despite how… well, cool, he was, Bill didn't seem to rub it in anyone's face. For some reason, Harry thought of his visions of 17 year old Tom Riddle in the previous year. Riddle had been handsome, clearly very clever, but unlike Bill, was very much infatuated with himself.

Shaking off these random thoughts, Harry just thought that he hoped he could be more like Bill, and less like Tom.

As they walked through the Avenue of Sphinxes, the magical portion of Luxor, Harry marveled at how different yet similar it felt to Diagon Alley. While it was clearly a place to do shopping, and he could see shop owners and shoppers talking and haggling, instead of storefronts, the avenue was lined with tents. And in front of the tents were shaded open air stalls that contained some things that Harry recognized from his trips to Diagon, and many things he didn't. He watched a small family fly by on a beautiful carpet, that seemed rather more comfortable than even his Nimbus was, cushioning charms or no. His eyes widened as he watched an Egyptian carpenter levitate a massively long table out of his tent… A tent that was way too small for that… Harry was about to ask Bill about that, but Mr. Granger had beaten him to the punch.

"Bill, are those tents there… Are they bigger on the inside?" asked Richard with a hint of wonder in his voice.

"Oh definitely!" replied Bill, further explaining "The vendors here move constantly all around Egypt, and those tents are rather more convenient than an actual store, but they still need to have enough space to store the supplies and stock needed to run the business. So a Space-Expansion charm serves to make the interior space much larger than you'd expect. There is a limit though, but the largest tents you might see here could house the space of a 5-story building." answered Bill congenially.

Harry saw Richard Granger nod his head in understanding, and then was puzzled when he heard Hermione's dad loudly whisper to his wife "Time and Relative Dimension in Space" to her subsequent chuckle. Harry wasn't sure what that was about… But knowing Hermione, her parents must have been really clever too… Maybe it was a science thing.

The market, which Harry learned was called a 'Suq' (the q was important, even though it sounded like a normal k, Hermione told him), was as varied as Diagon and Knockturn Alleys combined, but it was even more colorful. The tents themselves seemed brighter in the sun, and the awnings used for the stalls to provide shade were bright and inviting. Harry was passing by a little stall when he heard a little screech and turned his head to see what it was, when a little jet of flame passed not too far from his face.

"Careful there Harry, can't have you become a roasted Potter on your first day here can I?" chuckled Bill as he pulled him away from the range of the little dragons in the crates lining the stall.

"Um, yeah… No roasting please." replied Harry with a sigh of relief. He knew exactly how dangerous Dragons were, even little ones, Norbert coming to mind. Thinking about that misadventure made Harry think of how much Hagrid would love being there with them in that moment. In fact, the baby dragons reminded him of the last Weasley who was not yet there.

"Will Charlie be coming too?" Harry asked the Weasleys.

"He will, but the Portkey from Romania is scheduled for tomorrow." replied Mrs. Weasley. "I bet you'll get along well, he was a Seeker too." she added.

Shortly after, they arrived at where they would be staying and Harry couldn't help but stare.

It was one of the most beautiful houses he'd ever seen. Three stories tall, with a large balcony on the very top, and made of the same sort of white stone as the British embassy was. The house seemed like the type Petunia would dream of, and would probably give up snooping on her neighbors, if it meant she could live here.

Harry looked at Ron with a question in his eyes, but Ron looked back at him, just as puzzled.

"What a lovely home Bill!" remarked Mrs. Granger, her tone appreciative but not fawning.

"Oh, it's not really mine. The Goblins have been satisfied with my work though, so they let me borrow the house for the time you all would be here. It's too big for just myself. I have a little flat near the bank branch itself." he explained.

"How much treasure could you have possibly found for the Goblins, that they were THIS generous?!" blurted Ron.

"A fair bit, lil bruv... A fair bit." replied Bill, with a slightly mischievous look.

Ron gaped, his mouth making a fair imitation of a wide mouth frog.

Harry couldn't help himself. He snorted a bit, trying to suppress a laugh.

As the big group headed indoors, and Bill directed everyone to their rooms, Harry realized another thing. The house was also bigger on the inside. He saw the Grangers do a double take, shake their heads in disbelief, and have the same look of wonder that he knew he himself usually had when he encountered a new magic of some sort. And he was just as amazed as they were. The house still had 3 floors, but now it seemed like there were many more rooms inside than there should be. Everyone would be more than comfortable there.

After they all settled, Mrs. Weasley immediately commandeered the kitchen, and a short while later, a rather wonderful luncheon was served. How she managed to make enough food for all of them that quickly, Harry attributed to magic, and Mrs. Weasley's legendary cooking abilities.

For the rest of the afternoon, Mr. Weasley laid out some suggestions for visit locations, with all the adults having a discussion over all the details. The rest of the group all gathered in the backyard, and had an impromptu game of Quidditch. All except Hermione of course, who found a hammock shaded by a palm tree, and promptly plopped into it to read, swinging it slightly with one leg dangling.

By the time the adults sorted out all the details, it was close to supper time, and the weather had cooled enough that the cooling charms weren't needed, and the Granger/Weasley/Potter group could eat outside.

As the kids began putting the tables together, and arranging everything needed, Harry felt a firm tap on his shoulder. He turned his head, and had to look up, to see Richard Granger standing behind him, with an unreadable expression on his face. "I do believe, Mr. Potter, that you and I are overdue for a conversation… Just me and you, eh?"

Harry's brain froze… before he nodded.

"Well then, no time like the present. Let's go inside and have ourselves a moment away from the noise…" continued Mr. Granger, beckoning Harry to follow him.

His feet feeling strangely heavy, and his heart feeling like an anchor, Harry followed him into the house.

—

With everyone outside preparing the tables, and Mrs. Weasley and her volunteers finishing up the meal in the kitchen, it wasn't difficult to find a quiet corner in the living room. As they entered, Harry felt nervous. He didn't know why, but he felt… not afraid precisely… but definitely unnerved. His nervousness led him to stay standing, his eyes cast down focused on his beat up trainers, as Mr. Granger sat down on one of the single seat cushioned chairs.

"Sit, Mr. Potter." said Mr. Granger.

Harry looked up to see Mr. Granger's open palm directing Harry to the seat next to him. Mr. Granger's eyes weren't hostile. He knew very well, from Uncle Vernon and Snape, what that would look like. But they certainly were serious. There was however, another feeling in them… The sort of look he could sometimes see in Hermione's eyes. A look of warmth. It was different from hers though. If her look was a cozy blanket in winter, Mr. Granger's was a lit fireplace. Warm but one that warned of sticking your hand in there…

Harry sat down as instructed, his mind a whirl, and for the first time since he actually met Hermione's dad, he actually noticed him. Though Richard Granger was rather laid back in his demeanor, and in the past day or so that Harry had been around him, Harry only saw a very friendly and curious person, Mr. Granger's presence now was totally different. For the first time, Harry noticed how solid he looked. Richard was relatively tall, at 6'1, and about half as wide as Hagrid… Which was saying something as Hagrid was as wide as three normal people. He was leaning back in the chairs, his hands interlaced together, resting on his abdomen. An abdomen Harry could see had not even a shred of the extra padding Mr. Weasley had. His arms, visible in the short sleeve polo shirt he wore, looked like they were made of smoothly overlapping branches of wood covered with smooth skin, and his hands, Harry noticed for the first time, had faint scarring on them, mainly in the knuckle area.

Gathering his courage, as hard as it was, Harry plunged in.

"What did you need to talk to me about Mr. Granger?" he asked, his voice only breaking a bit at the end, his eyes fixated on Mr. Granger's hands.

A moment of silence passed, and Mr. Granger's hands separated to rest on the arm rests, forcing Harry's gaze away from them and to Mr. Granger's face as the latter leaned forward a bit.

"Well, Mr. Potter… What is it that you think I need to talk to you about?" he replied.

Harry felt uneasy, his mind racing again. Did Hermione tell her dad about her first year? About the troll? The Philosopher's Stone? The obstacles? Did her dad blame him for getting her in trouble? Or was this about the last school year? The botched polyjuice? The basilisk? Did he blame Harry for all of that? And so he said the first thing that came to his head when realized just how much danger Hermione had been in because of him… Even if Hermione forgave him, her dad might not…

"I'm so sorry Sir…" he said as he sighed helplessly, his heart sinking.

"I do believe that we established that you are not Sorry, but rather Harry Potter, no?" Mr. Granger replied with a warm chuckle that lifted Harry's heart a little.

"I mean that I apologize, Mr. Granger…" Harry said.

"What is it that you feel you need to apologize for, Mr. Potter?"

"Hermione… She's been in trouble because of me… In real danger… She got hurt."

"Hmmm, I suspected as much… The school has not been very forthcoming with details about her "lengthened stay in the hospital wing" last year" said Hermione's dad, his hands now making air quotes. "Why don't you tell me what happened exactly… And then we can discuss your role in endangering my daughter." his voice steady as steel.

"Where d'you want me to start, Sir?" asked Harry, with a note of trepidation in his voice.

"At the beginning, Mr. Potter, at the beginning." replied Mr. Granger.

And so Harry did.

He told him everything… and it was surprising to Harry how quickly he was able to summarize the events of the past two years at Hogwarts when properly motivated. Mr. Granger let him speak uninterrupted for the most part, only stopping him a few times to clarify certain points.

"Then we came back on the express, and you picked her up, and the rest you know." Harry finished.

There was a long moment of silence then, and the longer it stretched, the more nervous Harry became.

"She could have died." Mr. Granger finally said, his voice tight. Harry's eyes closed tightly, trying to prevent the feeling of guilt from overwhelming him. "And not just once… As you've laid it out, she could have died with the troll, from the baby dragon, from each of the obstacles on your way to the Philosopher's Stone, the botched Polyjuice that could have poisoned her, and the giant 100 foot poisonous petrifying snake… Did I get all those right?" Every near death experience Mr. Granger listed felt like a blow to Harry's soul… Every one a harder blow to him than any Vernon ever landed. Unlike the blows from Vernon, these blows Harry felt he deserved.

"Yes, Sir" answered Harry with a heavy heart.

"Tell me Mr. Potter… did you do everything you could to prevent her from getting into those situations?" asked Mr. Granger, now leaning fully forward, his elbows on his knees and hands clasped together.

Harry looked in his eyes, the same warm brown eyes as Hermione's, looking straight into Harry's heart.

"Every time but the troll sir… Before we became friends, I didn't defend her from the teasing, and that's why she ran to the toilets in the first place. Hermione said she forgives me… but I don't know if I deserve it." Harry answered sincerely. "I've been teased and bullied most of my life before Hogwarts, and then I let it happen to her and did nothing… "

"But you remembered her, Harry…" replied the older man, his tone now softer. "You remembered her when no one else did, not even the teachers, and did something about it."

Harry didn't know what to make of that and simply nodded.

"Do you know what every letter we ever got from Hermione has in common?" asked Mr. Granger suddenly.

"Umm, no Sir, I don't know." Harry replied, puzzled by the apparent change in the conversation.

"They all involve you. Young Mr. Weasley shows up too on occasion, but your name is in each of those letters at least several times… Why do you think that is?"

Bewildered, Harry shrugged his shoulders. How much could Hermione really have to say about him?

"I can tell you why Harry… And I hope you listen very closely to what I'm about to say."

Harry nodded, at a loss for words.

"You are her best friend Harry. The first one she's ever really had, and the one that has affected her the most. Do you understand what that means?"

Thinking about his life before Hogwarts, before Ron and Hermione, Harry thought that few people could understand that feeling the way he did.

"I understand." he said quietly.

"Good. Because from what both of you have told me, you are a good friend, and I would hate for her to lose you." said Mr. Granger, his voice now full of warmth.

Harry's eyes shot up, now wide open, a clear question in his eyes.

A deep chuckle bubbled from Mr. Granger's chest, and the sound of it soothed away all of the worry that almost consumed Harry.

"No Harry, I don't blame you for what happened… I can see it in your eyes… How much you blame yourself already… How much you care. Also, knowing my daughter, you'd have had a hard time convincing her to stay behind." he answered Harry's unspoken question.

"But there is one thing I need from you, if you want to continue being my daughter's friend, and this is non-negotiable."

"What is it Sir?"

"You can't allow yourself to be stupid ever again." he said, his command rang like struck steel.

"What?" asked Harry, not fully believing what he was hearing.

"You must not allow yourself to be stupid, rash or careless ever again when doing so would put my daughter in danger. Because if you were the one petrified, my daughter would have gone into the Chamber of Secrets, and though she is brave, would she had been as lucky as you were? Would she have been able to survive that fight with the Basilisk?" the older man continued, each question sounding like another hammer blow on metal.

"I… I don't know… She's brilliant, but I don't know…" Harry answered hurriedly.

"And if you had gone into that Chamber, and that useless teacher had succeeded in erasing your memories? If you had been crushed by the rubble in the tunnel? If the specter of that maniac succeeded in his plan, and killed you? Assuming Hermione had survived what came next and was un-petrified in time to get out… How would she feel knowing her best friends had died? What would be left of her heart?"

Harry could imagine each scenario with vivid clarity. He had been so close to dying, or losing any sense of who he was, so many times. His thoughts tumbled down the rabbit hole of his imagination, seeing Hermione's arm pierced by the Basilisk fang, venom spreading through her. Hermione's body laying unnaturally still in the rubble of the collapsed tunnel. Ron and Hermione staring blankly into space, with the same look Lockhart had on his face after his spell backfired, their personalities erased forever.

"I… I… I don't know Sir" said Harry, his lips trembling.

"You do, Harry. You do know. Because I can see how you would feel if you had lost her or Ron." said Mr. Granger more gently. "You can't protect them from everything, and they, especially Hermione, will never leave your side if the last two years are a clue, but what you can protect them from is yourself." he said with iron certainty.

"I need your promise Harry. I need your promise that whenever you can, especially when it really matters, you will be smart as well as brave. You will try to be careful, even if you are forced into a dangerous situation. I need to know that you will do the best you can to protect my daughter. It's the only way I can know that my daughter will be as safe as she can be." he finished, his ultimatum hanging in the air between them.

Harry thought about it for a few moments, his resolve hardening by the second.

"I promise." he said, his eyes flashing.

"Good. Don't disappoint me. Because you don't know how very close I am to selling off my practice, changing our names, and whisking my wife and daughter to Australia… But as long as I have your promise, I will resist the urge…"

"I won't disappoint you sir… And I wouldn't have blamed you if you did do that…"

"I know Harry, which is why we are even talking… While we are at it, you don't have to call me sir. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you'll be turning 13 soon?" at Harry's nod, he continued "In many cultures, 13 is considered the age at which you are responsible for your own decisions. The age at which a boy becomes a young man. Considering what you've been through, I feel confident in saying that you are no longer a boy. You are a man… A young one, but a man nonetheless. And men should address each other as equals. Call me Richard."

"Yes, Si... ummm, I mean Richard." replied Harry, stumbling over his words slightly.

"Very good! Now let's go and see if they still need help with setting everything up, eh? Oh, one last thing… If you need help figuring things out, especially when it comes to dangerous situations, talk to me, alright?"

"I will, Richard."

"Excellent. Now let's go and help our family, eh?"

Harry's heart swelled.

—

The conversation with Richard stuck with Harry. Through helping with supper set-up, the dinner itself (a lively affair with so many people around the table), and the post-meal clean up, Harry's train of thought would veer to what Richard demanded of him, and what Harry promised to do. After the meal, Richard had set out to make a little bonfire by hand, with no magic, a fascinated Arthur watching Richard's every move. After the blaze was nice and merry, the Grangers shared the ancient Muggle tradition of roasting marshmallows over a fire. A task that Mrs. Granger was apparently quite adept at. The atmosphere was full of laughter, joy, and sticky fingers, and Harry's mind was temporarily distracted. But as the fire wound down, and everyone was slowly dozing off with cups of warm cocoa by the fire (Ron's mug was completely empty, and a coco mustache was on his lip as his head lolled), Harry found himself sitting a bit further away from the fire, in Hermione's hammock, thinking of The Promise again.

That's what he had already named it in his head. The Promise.

"Don't be stupid. Don't be rash. Don't be reckless. Protect your friends. Protect Hermione."

Harry's 5 commandments.

He thought to himself about how often he had broken those in the past, and couldn't help but shake his head, a bit frustrated with himself.

"Harry? What's wrong?" asked a voice he dreaded hearing in that particular moment.

She sat next to him, and from the corner of his eye, he could see her face, her brow furrowed with concern. It warmed him as much as the fire did, and at the same time it worried him too.

"Oh nothing…" answered Harry, lying through his teeth.

"You've been too quiet all evening, since before supper… What's going on? Did something happen? Did someone say something to you?" asked Hermione, clearly not buying his answer.

"No, nothing bad happened. In fact, this is probably one of the nicest summer days I've ever had." he answered sincerely.

"What's got you shaking your head then?" she countered.

"Well, it's a bit hard to explain… It's complicated." he continued evading.

"I've been told that I'm rather good at 'complicated' things" she said with a slight smirk "Try me."

Harry thought about it for a few moments. He could tell she was getting a little impatient, as she started fidgeting a little.

"Your dad and I talked." he began.

She stopped fidgeting.

"WHAT?! When? How did I not notice?" she asked, slightly shocked.

"It was when you were helping Mrs. Weasley with supper… He took me aside then…" he explained, when suddenly he remembered a different promise. "I seem to remember you saying that you'd be there to 'restrain him in person' if he tried to skewer me with questions" he remarked, his tone one of faux-hurt.

"I can't believe you remember that…" she mumbled "But you're right, I did say that. I'm sorry. He's very sneaky when he wants to be... Was he terrible?"

"No, he wasn't terrible… Scary even though he wasn't trying to be though… But he was brilliant too. I can see where you get it from… But he was definitely intimidating. He needed to know some things from me." he answered.

"What did he want to know about?" said Hermione with a worried look on her face.

Noticing her concern, Harry steeled himself, before he answered.

"He wanted to know everything…"

"Everything?"

"Everything"

A pause. She draws a deep breath, and exhales.

"And how much did you tell him?"

Harry looks her in the eyes, the warmth in them very much like her father's in that moment.

"Everything."

Hermione's jaw drops.

"What'd'youmeaneverything?!" she splutters.

"Everything that's happened to us in our time at Hogwarts. Everything that's happened to you… because of me."

"WHA…?!" she starts to scream before Harry does something he's never done before, and clamps his hand over her mouth.

"Shhh" he whispers. "Please calm down".

Her frantic eyes look at him with shock, her nostrils flared with indignation.

"Please Hermione, everything's alright. Please calm down. Everyone is dozing off. No need to wake them" he begged. He didn't want anyone overhearing him.

Hermione looks into his eyes, and her breathing evens out, her eyes no longer widely frantic. She gives a nod, and he lets go.

"Harry…" she said, clearly struggling to maintain a calm tone of voice "I don't know why you felt the need to tell him everything… but now that you have, I'm afraid my parents won't ever let me come back to Hogwarts, to the Wizarding World, to y… to my friends!" her voice climbs several octaves as panic begins to set in against her will.

"No" he says calmly.

"What d'you mean, 'no'?" she hisses.

"He won't do that." he replies.

"How would you know Harry? He's not your dad!"

He flinches, and she gasps, her eyes widening again, and this time, it's her own hand clasped over her mouth.

Neither is sure of how much time has passed before she speaks again.

"I'm so sorry Harry… I didn't mean it like that" she says in a tiny voice.

Harry exhales.

"I know…" he says, his voice quiet. "You're very lucky you know…" he continues, a tone of longing evident in his words.

"I… I do know, Harry… I do. My dad loves me and mum more than anything, and right now he's probably planning our escape from Britain to Australia."

Harry's pensive look turns to a small smile. "You're definitely your dad's daughter… He's definitely thought about exactly that, but he won't do it. He promised. As long as I keep mine."

"You're serious?! He told you that?"

"Yes he did. You were right on the money, Australia was the destination."

"What promise did he force you to make?" she asked, her voice quiet again.

"He didn't force me Hermione… It was my choice to make."

"Fine. But what was it?"

"…"

"Harry…"

"If I tell you, you have to promise me something."

"How can I promise something when I don't know what the reward would be?"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"Fine. What do I need to promise you?"

"That you won't use this promise to make me do things I don't want to do… You have to let me make my own decisions."

"Of course! I'd never try to force you into something!"

"Hermione… You're my friend… but you're also bossy. You push very hard sometimes."

"I'm sorry, but I just want you to do well in school! Is that really so bad?"

"Hermione… you know what I mean."

"Fine… I'll… I'll try really hard to push less. Now what did you promise my dad?"

"I promised him that I wouldn't let myself be stupid, rash or reckless again, especially if doing so puts you in danger. I also promised to protect you."

"You… wha… why? Why would you promise any of that?"

"Because, Hermione! I've failed at all of those in the last two years, and if I've learned anything from our insane years at Hogwarts, it's that I can't afford to be that way any more!" he hissed out, clearly wound up, but trying hard not to yell.

Hermione had no answer to that.

And so they sat there, in Hermione's hammock, leaned against each other for a while, both lost in their thoughts.

"So…" Hermione whispered "He promised?"

"Yes, he did." Harry whispered back.

"OK" she said with a sigh that sounded to Harry like relief.

"How much did you tell them before today?" Harry asked.

Hermione turned her head towards Harry, but didn't quite meet his eyes.

"Not everything…"

"Oh…"

"Yep… I'm in so much trouble."

A/N

I hope this update finds everyone in good health, and if not, I hope you all get better soon. I know I've been away, but maybe this time, I don't need to explain why :)

Either way, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. To be quite honest, it was quite cathartic to write. I hope you all enjoy reading it.

I'd like to think that my characterizations have become more solid over time, but I would really appreciate any feedback.

And for those of you who are waiting for the action to start...We're almost there.