A/N: I am still continuing Of Each Day's Growing. This is just something extra that has been hibernating in my computer for a while.

Summary: X-Over HP/X-Men. AU. Logan/Harry. One-shot? Harry has been surviving in the X-Men world for over a year now, and with worries that his magic will be traced by the Brotherhood, Harry has refrained from using much of his magic. His power needs an outlet though, and Harry has set his sights on Logan as his release.

Warnings: SLASH, M/M, STRONG LANGUAGE, MATURE CONTENT, sexual situation between two males, PWP basically, one-shot, x-over, etc! You have been warned.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and the X-Men belong to Marvel. I'm just borrowing. No money is being made.

Voodoo

Harry surveyed the living room of the Manor with a dull unseeing gaze. He had been in the Manor for nearly half a year. He had been in this world for closer to a year. He was nearly nineteen, but he felt like he was getting wrinkles and aging much faster than he should. He looked in a mirror on the wall and saw his face looked aged. His skin was dry; wrinkles were present on his forehead and mouth from scowling too often and thinking too hard. Bruises showed under his eyes from the strain of this world and his new life, and his face seemed ashen from the shadows that he had hidden in rather than the sunlight.

This place had changed him.

Although he felt marginally safe at the Manor, his instincts told him to constantly be on guard. He had fallen prey to the evil side of the war in this world once already, and he was not keen to repeat the experience.

He sensed a mutant's approach and automatically swung his eyes without moving his head to catch a glimpse of one of the ferals of the Manor. It was Logan. He was probably the only one in the Manor who knew what Harry felt like all of the time. Because he was a feral he could smell dangers coming much easier than Harry could sense them with his magic. Logan was the best company in Harry's opinion. It had taken months to grow to trust the feral and to gain his trust in turn, but once they had made a silent truce/pact, they tended to enjoy each others company quite often in silence.

Harry loved it when Logan sought him out. It meant that the feral was going to stick around for a while, and, to Harry, that meant that he could relax. The wizard wasn't sure if Logan knew or not, but Harry didn't sleep at night. He couldn't catch much more than an hour or two of sleep before his paranoia woke him, so it wasn't until Logan joined him during the day that Harry found any peace.

Because he trusted the feral, he could rely on Logan's senses, and allow himself to relax enough to sleep for a while. He doubted that Logan would ever find that same peace with him unless the feral were stuck in the Wizarding World.

Logan strode into the room, grabbed the newspaper off the coffee table, and sat down with a huff. The man had obviously had a rough day. With a wave of his hand, Harry made a steaming cup of coffee appear on the side-table closest to Logan. The man sniffed the air briefly then took a deeper breath, savoring the aroma before reaching for the cup with a smirk curving his lips.

"Black?" he asked before sniffing it once more and taking a gulp of the searing liquid.

"I'm too tired to manage sugar and crème… besides, it seemed like a straight coffee day," Harry murmured.

Logan noticed his eyes already fluttering. He smiled into his coffee cup at the little whelp. When he slept was when you could really see the other side of him. His face relaxed, his body eased, and sometimes, he almost seemed to smile a bit if he was having a good dream.

After a period of sleep, eventually, the man slumped back on the couch and gravity took over, leaning him toward Logan until his head rested on Logan's arm.

Logan could smell a group of X-Men coming their way an hour later, and he nearly growled at them all. Harry was so exhausted, and for whatever reason, the man couldn't sleep without knowing that he was safe –something Logan could relate to seriously. Logan was honored that Harry felt safe around him, but why didn't he feel safe in the Manor? He had been there long enough to finally feel safe, hadn't he? Charles had mentioned something about not wanting Harry to use too-large amounts of magic on the Manor because he didn't want anyone to be able to hone in on Harry, or any of the X-Men. Harry had pointed out that nothing Charles had could track Harry's magic. The professor had then pointed out that Harry wouldn't want that fact to ever change, so it was better to be safe than sorry. Maybe the man would feel safer if he could do some more of his voodoo.

When the noises became only a room away, Logan was inwardly frantic with how to get rid of them without disturbing Harry. Once he was disturbed, it took ages for him to fall asleep again. A protective instinct inside of Logan had him growling warningly at the coming party.

"You don't even know enough about Quidditch to say that it's better than football!" Scott snapped grumpily, referring to the game that Harry had hazily described to them when they had asked if he liked any sports.

"It sounds way cooler than any other sport though!" Kirt exclaimed loudly, his accent making him seem extremely outdated for using the "hip" term. "How could any other sport top one where the whole game is played in the air on brooms?"

"Pipe down!" Logan hissed at them with a scowl over his paper.

With a glance into the room the order came from, Kirt spotted Harry's bottom-half sitting beside Logan, though the man's paper blocked his face. Harry always dressed funny though, so it was easy to spot him anywhere.

"Harry can settle this!" Kirt jeered as he glared over his shoulder at Scott.

Rogue came up from behind them at the sound of her crush's name. "Settle what?"

Harry moaned painfully from the couch and Logan watched the black-haired boy as he awoke.

"Harry!" Kirt called over to him. "I'm trying to explain to this idiot that Quidditch is way cooler than football! Back me up, will you?"

Harry yawned widely as he stretched. He didn't seem peeved, but he appeared awfully exhausted, and even Kirt adopted a look of concern when he noticed.

Logan tried to refrain from clawing at all the idiots he had to deal with and pull the magician back to sleep against him again, but he doubted Harry would even be able to return to the happy dreams he had been having, even if he could fall asleep again.

"Hmm? Do you mean Rugby or Football?" Harry mumbled half-heartedly, but Logan was quite impressed with how coherent and intelligible he could be when barely awake.

"Uh, not Soccer. The one with touch-downs," Kirt answered pathetically.

"Oh, well, I haven't really played any of the Muggle sports," he answered and yawned deeply. "I've watched a few on the telly though. I never really understood the point of 'football.' " He used his fingers for quotations with a pointed half-glare at Kirt. "I guess it has tactics and whatever, but Quidditch is like all of your Muggle games combined. I suppose there's some football in Quidditch 'cause you have the Chasers throwing the ball and there can be interceptions and whatnot." He shrugged. "I'm not really the person to ask about this sort of thing. It's been years since I played Quidditch. It's been years since I've been on a broom." He scrubbed his hand through his tousled hair.

The saddening tone of his voice gave the others the impression that Harry was falling into a very depressed mood, and the last time that had happened, it had lasted for two weeks of silence from the black-haired teen.

"Why don't you teach us how to play?" Rogue suggested excitedly, her accent thick then. She seemed overly happy and looking around for recognition for her idea.

Harry looked at her disconcertingly. "What's the point of teaching you lot Quidditch?"

"It'll be fun! Why not, Sugar? It might even put a twinkle in your eye to play your favorite game." The thought of brightening Harry's mood actually seemed to have merit, which caused everyone to turn and look at Harry for his thoughts.

"Great!" said Harry with fake ambition and a fake smile, "Now all we need is fourteen people who want to play, three magic game balls and one regular one (I guess we could use a soccer ball) fourteen magical broomsticks, a Quidditch pitch, three hoops standing about fifty feet tall at each end, two bats for each team, a referee, Charles' permission, and… let's see, what am I forgetting…" He paused in cynical thought. "Oh, yeah, magic!"

"Oh, Sugar!" Rogue whined childishly as she came closer to the fuming wizard. Harry cut her off before she could continue.

"Let's just say we even try this. We get Charles' permission, I manage to charm a couple of softballs to want to hit people, I manage to get an acorn to fly and hide, we round up as many people that want to play as possible, and we still have the slight dilemma of the fact that –in this manor- there are only three people that can actually fly. Assuming that I could manage to charm a broom into working for me, maybe I could fly, too, but I doubt it, and that would only make four people that can fly. What's your plan for everyone else?" Harry sneered at her before rising and looking indignantly into her eyes. "Do you want me to sprinkle fairy dust on everyone and tell them to think happy thoughts?" Harry asked in a mock innocent tone that caused Logan to snort his sip of coffee out through his nose. The wizard turned with a sidelong gaze at Logan, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly as he said in a very serious tone. "You know, it's against the law to laugh like that, Logan. Stop it; you might hurt yourself."

Logan couldn't stop laughing for a while though. He loved it when the black-haired man bluntly replied to people's stupid comments with his dry humor.

Rogue was rather affronted and pouted at Harry before flying over the couch and leaving the room. Kirt caught Harry's withering glare and decided to leave him alone. He began talking about electronics with Scott as they left the room, and left the wizard and feral in silence again. Harry pulled out his wand, which caught Logan's curious gaze, but the man was far too use to Harry and trusting of him to be suspicious. With a tap to Logan's coffee cup, it was refreshed and streaming again.

Logan smiled briefly at Harry before taking a sip and putting it back on the end table. The wizard took his seat again; his wand back in its sheath and a sigh leaving his lips, Harry's eyes began to close again.

"Hey, Logan," Harry called to the man beside him softly.

The feral turned his attention from the paper to his companion and he gave a grunt by way of response.

"Do you mind if I ask you something kind of personal and raunchy?" Harry's eyes seemed a bit dull and guarded as if he would speak his mind and not let Logan know how his response would affect him.

The question was quite a surprise to Logan because they hadn't really spoken too much of themselves to each other. Their relationship was mostly in unspoken gestures of kindness or comfort without actually agreeing to anything. Logan wasn't even sure what he would call the magician if he were to ever introduce him to someone else. 'Oh, this is Harry Potter, he's my… friend? Acquaintance? Living-room-sitting-buddy? Coffee maker? Couch cushion?'

"Sure," he responded eventually, putting the paper down, and turning on the couch so he had one leg crooked on it and he was facing Harry. It had been a long time since Logan was embarrassed about anything, and the kid was still young, so maybe he had questions. Either way, Harry wouldn't have brought it up unless it had been bothering him, so… why not?

"Do you want to fuck?" The question was asked calmly and its speaker remained stoic as he waited for a response. Logan almost responded: 'What?'

After recovering from the sudden shock, Logan carefully considered everything that Harry could mean when he asked that question. Before he could formulate a response, Harry spoke again.

"Let me clarify that," he started, still stoic, "I mean sex… between you and me…. probably more than once if the situation proves enjoyable."

Logan was stupefied. What do you say to that? Harry was very attractive. There weren't two ways about it. He had a gorgeous body, and though he looked a bit haggard, he was still handsome. The feral didn't really understand where this had come from though. Where had the sexual desire suddenly manifested? Harry must have seen all of his confusion and curiosity because he gestured for him to ask questions.

"Where'd that come from? I mean, do you normally ask guys that? And aren't you tired?" He paused. He had more questions, but he wanted those answered first.

Harry seemed a bit confused himself. "I realize it was a rather direct approach, but, no, I don't just randomly ask people if they want to fuck. Maybe I should explain my magic to you." He breathed in deeply as his eyes found the ceiling to think about how to answer that while Logan wondered what his voodoo had to do with sex. "I have a lot more magic than is normal in my world. I usually use magic on a daily basis and not using it for as long as I have, has caused a build-up inside of me. Charles doesn't want me performing too much magic. I can't play Quidditch or fly, which usually helps ease out magic. I'm also usually stuck here while you all go out on missions for whatever.

"If I don't release what is inside of me, I'll get to the point where the tiniest thing will get me frustrated, then angry, then I'll explode in a magical rage and start things blowing up and flying around haywire, and… you all probably won't be able to stop me." He finished with a sigh. "I know it seems like I'm always in control of myself, but it takes a lot of effort to keep what's built up inside of me from breaking free. I need a release."

Logan nodded slightly, understanding it like keeping the brake held down in the car while roaring the throttle up past its max. Something eventually has to give.

"Why me?" he asked casually, with a quirked brow. "I haven't smelled any kind of attraction from you."

"I appreciate your body," Harry told him with a leer over Logan's form before his stoic mask came back. "It's another part of my control that I'm not going to want after something when it's dangerous to my health. We only became tentative friends in recent months. Before that I had been caught by another feral."

Logan remembered exactly what he had smelt off Harry when they had found him suddenly in their courtyard while they were planning a rescue mission. He had been raped by Sabertooth, but he didn't talk about it. The doc had healed him as best he could, and Harry had remained silent about the entire incident since, though Charles had attempted to talk to him about it.

"I wasn't ready to trust you, but you weren't him, so I let myself learn to trust you. You're probably the only person here I trust completely," he admitted tentatively and Logan puffed his chest out proudly as he continued to watch Harry. "That trust is why I am asking you this."

Logan hummed a soft acknowledgement, but still seemed confused. "Are you gay, or is there a reason you didn't just pick someone like Rogue or something?"

Harry's brow furrowed when Logan asked if he was gay. "No," he responded calmly, as if trying to explain something intricate to a jock. "I don't care whether I'm with a male or female. Sex is sex. I used to love a beautiful woman in my world," Harry stated as his eyes went far off, back to a better time. "She was my everything until she was killed. I was depressed for nearly a year before I found comfort with a male lover. I left him behind unwillingly though when I came here." He returned his eyes to Logan's. "Love is love to me. It doesn't matter who it comes from."

Logan's eyes widened as he realized Harry was totally serious. The poor guy just wanted love without even caring about the gender it came from.

"I suppose you're still a bit curious about why I randomly picked a guy though." He sighed deeply before continuing. "To tell you the truth, I tend to be a bit rough sometimes. Girls, no matter how much they may like rough treatment, tend to get hurt very easily. You can't hold them with your full grip. You can't pump into them at full force." He groaned as he rubbed the bridge of his nose, annoyed. "It's impossible to let yourself go completely with a woman, so I tend to like men better for the whole sex thing." He shrugged as he turned back to Logan with serious green eyes. "I know you can take everything that I have to give, and I know I can take everything you give back. Even if I did hurt you, you can heal yourself."

"And what if I hurt you?" Logan questioned with a frown.

"Doesn't matter," Harry answered flippantly. "I can heal myself with magic."

The feral continued to think about everything he had been told and he wondered about this idea. He usually didn't fuck people randomly. When he eventually came to sex in a relationship, it was something that he was serious about. Would this casual thing become more, or would Harry ask other people too? That thought caused a growl to work up his throat. It startled Harry slightly, though he was mostly used to Logan. Harry could usually anticipate Logan's growls and grunts from other people annoying the feral, but this growl had been off-balancing.

"Have you asked anyone else?" he asked possessively.

Harry smiled briefly when he realized what the commotion was about. "Just you," he answered easily. He had been around werewolves long enough to know that they were fiercely possessive, and if Logan considered him his property after this… the thought appealed to Harry more than he had expected it would.

"It's agreed then," Logan answered finally putting his hand out, and having the teen shake it.

"Do you mind if we go off for a quick shag now?" Harry wondered with a genuine smile as he got his answer.

Logan was about to argue that Harry was far too exhausted for anything, but when he saw that smile, he decided that the youth could sleep afterwards.

"You got it, Magician," he answered with a wild smirk as he stood and reached out for Harry.

The wizard scowled at Logan as he took his arm. "I'm not a magician."

"You are to me."

"Fine, Pup," Harry casually agreed as he strode from the room.

Logan's undignified squawk of outrage was lost on Harry. He quickly caught up to his new partner with a scowl. "Don't call me pup."

Harry equally returned the scowl he got with a smirk of his own. "I'm as much of a magician as you are a pup, Logan."

"Fine, Sorcerer," Logan grumbled.

"Close enough, Wolf." Harry sighed as he began climbing the stairs.

"Your room, or mine?" Logan asked after they passed Kitty going down the stairs and she was out of hearing distance.

"Hmm, I think you'll find my room more appealing," Harry answered ominously. This caused Logan to look at him cautiously.

"Why is that?"

"You'll see. And if you don't like my room more, then next time, we'll use your room." The black-haired man turned slightly and winked at the feral.

Logan was taken aback by that. He hadn't seen Harry so flirtatious… ever! As they reached the end of the bedrooms corridor Harry went to the door on the left which was his. Logan was further up the hall on the right, the way they had come. With a wave of his wand Logan could see Harry murmuring some things as the door clicked a few times and a strange tingling sensation came over the feral. Harry finally opened the door and allowed Logan to go in ahead of him.

Upon entering the room, Logan stopped. Harry came in behind him and shut the door before moving around Logan and pulling his T-shirt off as he walked. As Harry casually strolled around the room, Logan tried to pick his mouth off of the floor. There wasn't just one room here. There were two rooms that Logan could see. The one he was standing in had three couches and two armchairs, a fireplace, and a skylight! It looked like a skylight anyway, but from his view right next to the wall, he could see a bit of the ceiling behind the sky looking thing. The thing that puzzled him though was that all the rooms in this corridor were the same. The feral felt the sudden urge to open the door and check to make sure he was in the same hallway he thought he was. He wasn't quite sure whether he should be as confused and confounded about this as he was. Harry was a… wizard after all, but… he hadn't even imagined all this. Magically appearing cups and coffee refills was one thing – creating rooms was a complete other.

"What the hell is this?" he demanded gruffly as he pointed to the ceiling. Harry had made himself comfortable on a couch as he waited for the discussion that would have to follow upon seeing his rooms before they could shag.

"It's a magical ceiling that mirrors the weather outside. I don't need so many candles when I use that spell," the teen answered easily, as if anticipating that very question and several more. Logan's eyes tore from the ceiling to the teen on the couch that seemed indifferent as he waited for the next question.

"Should I keep asking about how you turned a cubical into an apartment?"

"Magic," answered Harry easily with a smile. He seemed happy that he wouldn't have to explain everything. "Now that that is sorted out…" he began as he stood and unbuttoned his pants. He pointed toward two open French doors on the adjacent wall of a regular window that actually looked out onto the premises of the manor, but was currently closed and blocked by a curtain. "In there is the bedroom and there's a bathroom off to the side of it. That's all that really matters at the moment, so…" He trailed off as he folded his pants and tossed them over the back of couch before pulling off his socks and tossing them aside.

Harry waited a moment with a hand on his hip as he watched Logan, but the feral still seemed shell-shocked. With a huff, Harry approached Logan with a sultry sway to his hips, which seemed to pull the older man from his stupor. If that hadn't pulled him from it, Harry grabbing Logan's semi-hard cock and pressing himself against the feral certainly did the trick.

"See something you like?" he asked in a low tone.

Logan growled in a predatory way with a mischievous glean overcoming him. He reached out his hands to Harry's hips and began devouring his new lover with his eyes. Harry was certainly well-built. Logan hadn't had the opportunity to see him with his shirt off before, but the sight was pleasing. Harry hadn't been exaggerating when he said that he was strong even at just face-value, which wasn't saying anything about his magical power as well. Judging by the extravagant room around them and the fact that Harry hadn't arrived in this world with more than what was on his person at the time, he was impressed already.

It took a moment for Logan to realize that he was suddenly without a shirt. He returned his wandering mind to the imp with a Cheshire cat smirk standing in front of him only an inch or so different in height.

"I hope that wasn't your favorite shirt," the shorter man murmured as he reached out for Logan's pants and began on the belt and button. "Kick off your shoes," he ordered with a light tone, and Logan did so with slight difficulty because someone else was working very closely with his zipper now. Every caress of those knuckles against him, accidentally –which he doubted- or not, was driving him insane slowly. "I could spell those away, too, if you're having trouble with them," Harry teased as he leaned in to Logan's ear. The feral groaned pleasurably as that hot mouth licked the shell of his ear tentatively, then placed an open-mouth kiss against the tender part of his neck below his ear.

The older man was trying to come up with a coherent reply raggedly. "I like these shoes." He finally grunted as he got the first one off.

Harry snickered. "They just disappear to your room. They don't disappear permanently," he teased, his hands wandering up Logan's bare chest and brushing over his nipples.

With a frustrated growl, Logan got the other shoe off, kicked his pants off with his socks, and made a grab for Harry, who playfully jumped back. The imp clearly knew where everything was in his room exactly, or he could sense it, because he had landed on the arm of one couch precariously, his gaze leering at Logan.

"So, I suppose you want to top, then?" Harry wondered idly, which stopped Logan's progression toward him for a moment.

"Why? Do you want to?" Logan asked in semi-shock. He had just assumed the mechanics of their relationship without a second thought. He made a grab for Harry and the youth jumped gracefully backwards again before dodging Logan by jumping over the back of the couch and standing in the opening of the bedroom doors. Harry caught and held Logan's predatory eyes as the man climbed over the back of the couch toward Harry, never losing those green eyes as he spoke:

"No, not this time; I need a good hard fuck this time. I'm too tired to do all the work." That seemed to be the end of Harry's fight, too, as he slid his briefs off and flicked them away with his foot. He stood proudly naked before Logan, with his cock half-erect and waiting to be fucked a bit impatiently. The teen had given a bit of a chase, but now he needed what he asked for.

Logan smiled as he noticed his new lover was also well endowed. His tongue shot out to lick his lips as he nearly ripped his own boxers off before shooting up to Harry and snatching him off his feet. Harry cried out, but wrapped his arms and legs around Logan as the man walked over to his bed. When Logan saw the size of the bed, he nearly went off into his own world of wonder again, but Harry was too impatient for that. He slid his foot down to the feral's firm ass and pressed forward so Logan's crotch ground into his own in sweet bliss. This definitely brought Logan's attention immediately back to him.

"Ready for it, are you?" the older man asked with a feral smirk. He got onto the bed with Harry under him, feeling his way around his lover's shapes and muscles.

(Sex scene deleted because of FF guidelines; full story can be found at: story. php?no =600015078 Sorry. )

With the feral bringing him so close to the brink, it was only a matter of time before they both exploded. With blind caring Logan leaned down and captured Harry's mouth in a ferocious kiss, just as he thrust home a few more times and suddenly stilled. Harry was about to come with him, but he felt Logan grab his balls and he cried out in despair as the feral came down from his high, but he was still wanting for release.

"Let me come!" Harry demanded with an angry growl as he reached to pull himself off, but Logan smacked away his hands. Harry caught those feral eyes and gasped at their intensity.

"No," he answered huskily as he pulled out of the teen. Harry moaned sadly at the loss. He hated playing these games. Dominant and submissive was not his cup of tea and he was about to tell Logan off, when he noticed Logan's leer at his manhood. "I want a taste," he added, his voice hoarse from his grunting and growling.

Just hearing that would have sent Harry over the edge if he were allowed. As it was, he was panting with want for a release and watching keenly as Logan returned his hands to Harry's hips as the Canadian caressed Harry's length with his tongue once.

Harry's panting and whines were far too close to the edge though. He couldn't tease much more if he wanted a taste. Without much practice, Logan was just going on seeing other people do it and hearing the technique, but he took Harry all the way back into his throat and he hummed as he released Harry and with a loud cry of his name, Harry came.

After he had swallowed it all, Logan sat up from a sated Harry before licking the wilted cock a few times to see the reaction.

Harry's immediate reaction was to press his head further back into the pillows with a deep moan and a whine as he reached blindly for Logan to pull him up to lay beside him.

"Don't do that!" Harry whined as he grabbed the Canadian's arm and pulled him to a pillow so he could curl up beside the feral's warmth, "S' too sensitive."

Logan hummed as he glanced at Harry and saw him nearly asleep beside him. "You should sleep."

"Ai, ai, cap'n," Harry slurred sleepily. His eyes shut easily and he was off to dreamland.

Logan used his foot to help pull the blankets up to cover them as he looked around the room, satiated.

Where had Harry got all this furniture? How could there be a bathroom in a place where there wasn't one before? Where had the plumbing come from? How did he get hot water? How could there be nearly one hundred feet spanning both of the rooms when his room was only twenty feet wide at best? What had happened to Charles saying not to overdo it with the magic? Did Charles know about his room? How did no one know about this…?

Well, maybe that was because no one besides Harry lived this far down the hall and no one else had had a reason to enter his room. That still didn't answer all of the other questions.

Logan knew it all had to do with magic, but he didn't understand how a twenty by twenty square room could possibly fit a one hundred foot square inside it. Harry didn't have money with him… where had the expensive looking chairs and bed come from? Logan hadn't heard anything about the electrical bill going up from the extra water to a new bathroom. No one else had a personal bathroom except Ororo and Charles.

This was some strange voodoo alright. He had never seen any magician do this.

When Harry had first arrived and claimed to be able to do what he could do, Logan had scoffed at the idea. Mutant powers, okay. Magic? No. Since then he had been proven wrong by Harry creating and refilling just about any liquid he knew of out of thin air, moving things without telekinesis, and healing people's wounds with his wand. He had proven to be able to do things with his voodoo, but Logan still wasn't ready to call it magic.

End?

A/N: This was just a plot bunny with no ending, so it became a one-shot. I have ideas for it, but no ending, so it will probably remain a one-shot. This does not affect anything else I'm writing, and it will not be my next story. I'm still deciding which HP story I'll be writing next, but it's looking like it's going to be The Bargain -y'all aren't allowed to quote me on that yet though, but it will probably be that one. I won't be starting it until after Of Each Day's Growing is complete, so don't worry about me getting over-burdened and never finishing anything.