Affiliations

Severus rolled the small vial between his forefinger and thumb. The light from the burning fire lit up the contents. He had carried it with him, tucked securely into his left breast pocket, ever since he had started this dangerous game with his two masters. Although it looked rather inconspicuous, it contained the quickest and deadliest known poison, a potion of his devising. One drop would kill him instantly.

He was weighed down heavily with the thoughts of the battle that he was sure was but a few months away. Although he wasn't sure what Albus was planning nor what he had Draco doing, he had an inkling, seeing that the old man contacted him less and less as the months wore on. It seemed that his primary role in the war had changed from that of being a spy into one of a glorified baby sitter.

Wizards and witches had been saved, though Severus knew it was not on his information. There were the odd few who could not be reached in time, but the ones who were spared became eternally grateful to the Order when they showed up and whisked them away.

Severus heard about the rescues and failed assassination attempts by the Death Eaters through Remus. He had been shocked, though his face gave away nothing as he listened to Remus's tale. It made him feel obsolete, old, a has-been, and he sneered at himself for these thoughts of self-loathing.

He found himself, for the first time in his life, resenting his godson. He knew he was being childish and should be grateful to Draco for taking the Dark Lord's focus off him, if only for a little while, but against all reason, the resentment continued to plague him.

Draco's circumstances were ideal for performing Albus's bidding. With Lucius being the Dark Lord's right hand man and the highest ranking wizard among the Death Eaters, and Draco being his son, he thought that it made sense to use him thus, or so he tried to tell himself.

Albus understood very well the bond between the boy and his mother, so there had been no need to require an Unbreakable Vow from the boy. He would do whatever was asked of him to avenge his dead mother.

Severus had once loved his own mother that way, but he had grown up to resent her for being weak and pathetic, allowing her no-good husband to push around both her and her son. Severus had vowed that he would not turn out like his father and had joined the Death Eaters with power and vengeance on his mind.

He had gone to the house on Spinners End one bitter, stormy night and had turned his wand on the man who had given him life. Although he had long ceased to mean anything to Severus, the stricken look in his mother's eyes when she came upon her son standing over his father's lifeless body told Severus that perhaps there was something he had not understood about the relationship between the two. It appeared that perhaps – in a sick, twisted way – she still loved the man who had sired her only child. He would never forget the look of disbelief and betrayal on his mother's face.

Revenge had tasted sweet for all of thirty seconds as he stood there, panting, with a mixture of adrenaline and triumph, but then it had turned bitter as he realised that he had accomplished what he had joined the Death Eaters for. He could have completed the task on his own, as he had received no help from the Dark Lord himself or from any of his Death Eaters. He couldn't help but think he had perhaps sold his soul for this petty victory.

Severus felt resentment that his mother had never given any sign that she could forgive him for what he had done. Weren't mothers supposed to love their children more than life itself – enough to understand and forgive anything? It seemed to him that love freely given and accepted was only for other families. For his part, guilt kept Severus from trying to contact her – he knew that he had overstepped some unexplained boundary and felt that he had lost his mother's love forever. Severus could not remember a time in his childhood when he had felt loved and protected, and so the bitterness and resentment continued to fester over the years.

He had done the only thing he could do at the time; he had spun around and walked calmly out of the house, never to return whilst his mother was alive. Three years later he had inherited the house upon his mother's death.

Severus now felt ineffectual for the first time in his life, so he threw himself into training Harry. He pushed the young man to his breaking point and beyond, and Harry had surprised Severus on more than one occasion.

The Dark Lord was raising the stakes, sending out his followers on raids against both Muggles and wizards he perceived to be sympathetic towards the Light, and leaving no one alive wherever they appeared.

Draco had not been to see Severus. In fact, he had not seen Draco since the night during the Christmas holidays when the foolish boy had taken the vow. Severus had caught a glimpse of the boy now and then at Death Eater meetings; however, Draco had played his part well – the perfect Malfoy heir – and never approached him before or after the meetings. Severus was somewhat surprised he had pulled it off.

With little to do but bide his time, and with no dunderheads to watch over, as only a handful had remained over the Easter break, Severus's thoughts turned inward once more as his mind replayed all the names of those that had fallen in the never ending war.

He realised with a start that it was a year ago that Miss Granger had been taken from her home. He shook his head roughly. He hadn't thought about her in the last six months. He had had no time to himself as he had been tirelessly training Harry for the forthcoming battle where it would be up to Harry to either kill or be killed.

Severus's mind wandered back to Albus's cruel and casual dismissal of Hermione's abduction and Minerva's equally insensitive response to her favourite student. But, of course, Harry Potter was the number one weapon in this war, and although Severus didn't loathe the boy as much as he once did, he often had to wonder if he would have made it this far without Hermione's help.

He was startled when his psyche supplied the girl's first name. When had she become Hermione to his mind? Not that the answer truly mattered, as she was in all probability dead by now, but he found it quite odd that his mind reverted to her when he went on these bouts of self pity. Most likely the answers lay in the fact that he envied her. Here he was – a living, breathing man – whilst she, in all likelihood, lay in the cold dirt, God only knew where, and he envied her her peace and quiet. He laughed bitterly to himself.

He wished, in a way, that he could join her, wherever she was now. Severus was not a religious man, but he liked to believe that there must be an afterlife where something better might await him.

His eyes caught the irridescent light reflected off the vial in his hands. Oh, but it would be so easy to unplug the stopper and drink its contents. With a sigh he placed the vial back into his left pocket and then buried his face in his hands. There was no use in speculating what was to come after this life or rushing to get there before his time was up. He had to live what precious time he had left on this earth trying to protect Harry, and if that meant the end of his own life, so much the better, he thought bitterly.

***

It was several nights later, when Severus was preparing for bed, that he heard the sound of soft, almost inaudible, knocking on his chamber door. His hand automatically came up to the bridge of his nose as though starving off the headache that he knew was approaching. He quickly donned his robes and boots once more.

Few of his colleagues knew the whereabouts of his chambers, as he preferred to have them meet him in his classroom, though they rarely ventured there; instead, they preferred to attack him once he set foot into the staff room for the weekly meeting Dumbledore insisted they have, claiming they preferred the neutral ground. They would complain about his teaching methods or the amount of house points he took. Even fewer students knew where the opening of his chambers was, and he immediately dismissed the possibility that it was Harry, as he had allowed him to leave their practice about an hour previously.

With a scowl firmly in place, he briskly strode to the door, wand held erect, as he yanked at the metal handle and the door flew backwards. He stood there for the briefest of seconds, hardly believing his own eyes as he stared into those of his blond-haired godson.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" Draco said, but it was his grey eyes, so much like his father's, that held back Severus's scathing remarks as he wordlessly stood back from the doorway and bid the young man enter.

"I see some things never change," Draco said with a haughty air of superiority.

The door slammed closed, and Draco found himself against the wall, the wand of his godfather pressed firmly into his jugular, and the arm of said man holding him powerfully across the chest.

He couldn't breathe, and his mind raced at the thought of what he had done to anger the dark-haired wizard so.

With a final shove against his chest, the wand and arm disappeared, and Draco hunched over, gulping in air as he rubbed his abused neck and chest. When he finally did look up, it was to find his godfather pacing across the chambers, not even looking in his direction.

"What was that for?" Draco asked, still rubbing his neck; however, he was now standing up straight, and he pushed off the wall.

The Potions master just glared at the blond as he quickly strode to the door leading into his study.

Draco made his way uncertainly over to the open doorway to follow the man. The walls, after all, did have ears even though they were in his godfather's chambers; he knew they wouldn't be safe until they entered either his study or his bedroom. Draco knew that he would never in a million years be invited to enter the hostile wizard's bedroom, and he knew that his godfather did not want to discuss whatever was on his mind out here in the open where anyone could listen.

Draco's hand went to his wand, which was in a holster around his waist, as he slowly made his way into the study. As soon as he stepped over the threshold and entered the room, the door slammed shut behind him, and he jumped out of the way as his godfather erected wards on the door.

Draco had never seen his godfather lose control like this, and it unnerved him to see the older man's usual steadfast level-headedness desert him.

"You little fool," Severus abruptly said as he faced Draco. "Did you even think of the implications for me when you made that Unbreakable Vow with the Headmaster?" he hissed, his eyes narrowing, and his arms held stiffly at his sides.

"But..." Draco stuttered, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation. He soon realised he had none and promptly shut his mouth.

"It's just as I suspected," Severus spat, a vein throbbing in his forehead. "I knew you were self-serving and you just proved my suspicions correct."

Draco just stood there, too shocked to even think, let alone speak. Severus was still talking, though Draco hardly heard the words. He was brought back to the room by the mention of Lucius.

"... And I know about your father's involvement in your mother's death; he may as well have just come out and told me. Though it was not spoken of, his body gave away the necessary clues to confirm your fears." Severus looked at Draco's stricken face. "I am sorry, Draco." He took a few steps towards him, his right arm outstretched as though he were about to give his godson comfort.

Draco jumped back from the dark-haired man's arm, and it dropped back to his side heavily. The young man was breathing rapidly now, his hands were furled tightly into fists.

"Don't you dare call him that," he growled.

The Potions master's face registered a look of puzzlement before he opened his mouth to say, "... But he is, after all, your father."

Draco's hand quickly shot to his holster, retrieving his wand, and he had it pointed at his godfather before either could blink.

"He is not my father," Draco snarled through clenched teeth, "I have no family left to speak of; they are all dead to me." His knuckles were white as they clenched around his wand.

Severus did not like the bitter glint in the young man's eyes.

Much too young to feel so much anger and resentment, Severus thought and was quickly overcome with memories of his own life.

"Don't make my mistakes, Draco. Take action for what you think is right, but not from hatred or revenge. I too joined the Death Eaters with a need for retribution, and look where it got me! In a job I loathe, serving two masters, neither of which I would serve had I known back then what I know now. Regret is all I have left. Half of my life has been wasted on petty revenge in one form or another."

Severus watched his godson's arm falter before it dropped to his side. Draco still held on to his wand, but mercifully, it was no longer pointed at him. He seemed to be getting through to the boy.

Silence reigned throughout the chambers as both wizards stared at one another, neither willing to break the all-encompassing silence.

Suddenly, Draco hissed and his face drained of blood until it closely resembled the parchment on Severus's desk. His wand fell from his hand as he brought up his right hand to cover his left forearm. As he looked up into the face of the Potions master, he realised that the man wore a similar grimace on his face.

"What the fuck do I do now?" Draco asked then; voice shrill, he was clearly panicking.

Severus was already moving towards a closet in the room, ignoring Draco's question.

"Did you hear me?" Draco yelled towards the man whose back was all he could see as he searched for something within the closet. "It will take me too much time to go back to the Manor and get my robes without making him suspicious. I knew I shouldn't have come here, but I thought you would be proud of me." Draco deflated as his shoulders slumped, and his head fell forward.

Severus said nothing, emerging from the closet with his arms laden with black material.

"Hurry up, boy, you don't have much time," Severus said gruffly as he approached Draco. "We shall continue this conversation later."

Draco looked up, to see his godfather standing in front of him, his arm held out in tribute as he offered what Draco presumed were his own Death Eater mask and robes.

"What are you going to wear?" he asked, the confusion in his voice almost making Severus grin as Draco quickly took what his Godfather had offered him, pulling the robe over his head without thought.

"Do you honestly believe that these are my only set?" he said flatly as he passed Draco the mask. "Being in the Dark Lord's company for as long as I have affords me some privileges. Don't put that on," he snapped as Draco went to place the mask on his face. "You are not at the Manor and could be seen leaving Hogwarts, you stupid child. It is a wonder you have survived as long as you have. Now calm down and clear your mind."

Draco stood there, staring at the dark-eyed man's menacing frown, before closing his eyes and taking a calming breath. Opening them once more, he nodded his head to indicate that he was suitably composed.

"Well, what are you waiting for? A written invitation? The Dark Lord will not wait forever, and I have to appear after you to make it convincing. If we are lucky, this will be a general meeting, and we may be able to arrive unnoticed."

Draco did not have to be told twice; he raced from his godfather's chambers and into the cold night. He stuck to the shadows as he made his way towards the Forbidden Forest and past the wards surrounding Hogwarts.

Out of a window high above the grounds, an old wizard watched silently as the boy in the Death Eater robes fled. He shook his head solemnly before turning away and whispering to the empty office, "So young." His only reply was a strangely soothing song from the phoenix on its perch in the corner.

***

Voldemort sat on his throne above his army of followers and gazed at the gathering of wizards and witches he had amassed. He knew who each of them was without having to see their faces.

Standing a little behind the throne and to his right was Lucius Malfoy. On his left was Severus Snape, his long-term spy in Hogwarts. Although Severus had killed the Order's werewolf, which had lifted him up in Voldemort's esteem, there was something about the dark-haired, dour wizard that Voldemort didn't quite trust, and the fact he had not been able to disclose the whereabouts of the Potter boy made his chances of survival diminish as the days wore on.

He knew the cagey old headmaster was keeping Potter's location a secret; he had many spies within Hogwarts, and they had all reported back to him that Potter was nowhere to be found. He had neither been seen nor talked about since he graduated; it was as though he had vanished off the face of the earth.

If he were to do away with Severus, he would be at a great disadvantage. No longer would he have inside information on Hogwarts and his old nemesis. So instead of cutting off that line completely, he had given information about raids upon the Muggles and traitors to various junior Death Eaters to see if they could be trusted. It looked as if his suspicion and lack of trust in his newest recruits was confirmed, when seven out of every ten raids were successfully thwarted by the Order.

Voldemort had not given the information to Severus; therefore, he was safe – for now.

He eyed the congregation of black robes and silver masks, his cold gaze pausing on those who he believed might have betrayed him. The air was thick with anticipation; he could almost taste it in such an enclosed space. It was the largest room in his fortress, the room in which he held all but the most confidential of his minion's gatherings.

As the door closed on the last of his faction, he stood, and the harsh whispering and muttering of his followers fell into an eerie silence. Not one of his Death Eaters dared move or utter a sound for fear of bringing the wrath of their Lord upon themselves. Every single one of them felt the malignant force that was the Dark Lord.

The Death Eaters slinked back silently as Voldemort glided forward, his feet barely touching the ground. He stopped and stood deathly still in the centre of the semi-circle.

"It seems that we have a leak within our ranks." No one dared breathe least they be implicated, guilty or not. They all knew that their Lord did not give second chances, and rarely were you able to speak once he brought his wrath upon you.

"As most of you are aware, we have been busy these last months." He allowed the insinuation to grow as he paused. "I told few of you all the facts, yet I still find my efforts thwarted at every turn. I cannot allow this to continue, to have my plans for purifying the wizarding world to be crushed by the likes of Dumbledore."

Voldemort spun to face one of the suspects. The junior Death Eaters were all huddled together in one mass, as though there were security in numbers.

"Wilkins."

Voldemort spoke the boy's name like a caress, and Severus cringed mentally, for he knew this game well, and he had no doubt in his mind that Wilkins would know it too before the night was out, if he lived long enough.

"Yes, my Lord," Wilkins replied, puffing out his chest like an overgrown ape. He evidently didn't understand that he was marked for death.

"Step forward."

The boy did so proudly. Severus had to wonder where the Dark Lord had found these children, as they were all as thick as two planks of wood.

"Reeder."

"Yes, my Lord." The boy, in his excitement, took a step forward without being told to do so. Voldemort's wand was up before he placed his foot down, and the boy was on the floor before anyone could blink. Those who stood closest to the fallen Death Eater took quick steps backwards, as they didn't want to be seen in the same light as Reeder.

Reeder was on the floor, screaming as he tore at the flesh on his body. His mask had fallen off as he clawed at his face.

Voldemort placed his wand arm to his side as he ended the spell. He looked down at the boy as though he were looking at a cockroach that needed to be eradicated.

"Stand up and join Wilkins," he said, the undertone of his voice conveying a sinister message to all those who knew him of old.

Reeder stood, half stumbling as he made his way over to the now shocked Wilkins who was standing there immobilised with fear.

Voldemort continued around the circle, lightly tapping his wand into his left hand. Most of the Death Eaters were standing stock-still, hoping not to be noticed. They were all clearly unhinged by what had just occurred.

Voldemort came to stand before Avery; he was evidently sweating underneath his mask. He spun away from the man, as he looked at another.

"MacBerry, come."

The young man took a faltering step forward; he was clearly shaking as he slowly walked towards Voldemort.

"Yes... my Lord." Speaking in an undertone that clearly betrayed how nervous he was.

"Go stand besides your comrades," Voldemort hissed, and MacBerry backed up, eyes still on Voldemort, his shoulders drooping as he made his way over to where Wilkins was supporting a dazed Reeder.

The rest of the Death Eaters had given the three a wide berth; they did not want to be hit by the backlash of Voldemort's anger.

Voldemort walked over to the three boys and flicked his wand once in the air. The masks which had previously hidden Wilkins and MacBerry from view were torn off their faces and both boys gasped in unison.

"Look upon the faces of those who have betrayed you, my Death Eaters." Voldemort hissed, his voice reverberating off the walls and carrying to the very corners of the room.

"But my Lord, I did not..." Wilkins began, but was silenced with a spell cast by the furious Voldemort.

"Did I ask you to speak?" he asked, his red eyes narrowing.

The helpless boy merely shook his head in fear as Reeder passed out.

"Lucius." Voldemort looked up at the wizard. "Ennervate the boy."

Lucius stepped forward gracefully; his hand resting on his snake-headed cane. He did not come down the stairs; he merely stood at the edge, and in one fluid movement, he pulled the wand from the cane and pointed it at the boy. "Ennervate," he said, almost lazily.

Reeder opened his eyes and blinked groggily, his mind still fuzzy. He stumbled to his feet as the scene before him began to clear. His legs threatened to give way again.

Lucius replaced his wand into its housing and, with a flourish of robes, turned around and went to stand in his position behind Voldemort's throne.

"Excellent," Voldemort proclaimed, his crimson eyes lighting up as he surveyed the three supposed traitors. He had given them all the information about the raids to test their loyalty, and they had failed him miserably.

He didn't care if they were not the conspirators, didn't even bother to use Legilimency on them. One of them was guilty, even if it were by association, and for that they would all die. This would show the others within his ranks what would become of them if they even had a notion of betraying the Dark Lord.

Voldemort was becoming more and more unstable as the days passed. Severus knew these young men were not guilty of anything except perhaps stupidity. He had to warn Draco to be more careful with the information he provided, for it would surely get him killed.

Severus thought back to his own dark days of serving both masters, which he still did in theory, although not on the same level as before. Dumbledore had found himself a new spy and was using Draco for his own ends. Would the headmaster even care if the boy died? Severus didn't think so; all the General of the Light cared about was ending this war and vanquishing Voldemort, no matter the costs. It sickened Severus, but he could not afford to get maudlin now, not in this lair of vipers that would rip his heart out with their bare hands.

Severus surveyed the sea of masks before him, most of which were thrumming with excitement at the promise of vengeance. He blinked once, hardly believing he had once been one of them, vying for the Dark Lord's attention, doing anything to please him. It made his stomach roll.

He looked at the three young men trembling inside the semi-circle. They were barely standing, and the aura of terror and panic rose off them in waves. Severus knew that they would die here tonight, but he felt no pity for them. Yes, they had most likely been set up, but they should have known that one slip up could cause their death when they joined this organisation.

"Bella, Fenrir, come forward."

There was a rustling of robes as the crowd parted to allow the two Death Eaters to step into the centre of the circle.

Fenrir Greyback wore no mask, and the look of delight upon his face made Severus's stomach churn. He kept his face impassive though, as he knew he could not show an ounce of emotion at what was about to happen to these young men.

Bellatrix came behind Fenrir, skipping along as if this were all a game. Perhaps it was to her; she was unhinged, and everyone knew it.

"Yes, my Lord." Bella spoke in a little girl's voice, her enthusiasm and eagerness were thrumming through her, and she could barely contain her excitement.

Voldemort turned to her then, and Severus thought she would pass out, but unfortunately she contained herself enough to listen to what her Lord was telling her.

"I want you and the werewolf to show my Death Eaters what we do to traitors." Voldemort's voice caressed her like a lover, and she all but swooned at having him direct her so.

"Yes, my Lord," she replied, her eyes closing for the briefest second as she shuddered all over. When she opened them, she spun around and faced the three junior Death Eaters with her wand in her hand. Fenrir was prowling behind them, breathing down their necks, smelling them, tasting their fear. He looked up into the eyes of Bella and nodded his head slightly; she blinked once, and then all hell broke loose.

Fenrir pounced on the nearest boy, Reeder, knocking him to the ground and tearing out his throat before he could even scream. Greyback came up for air, his mouth bloodied, a huge grin on his face, his mouth dripping with blood and his eyes looked deranged. He looked at the other two wizards who were standing there, frozen in disbelief.

"Playtime," he snarled, and he stood up from where he was crouching over the now clearly dead adolescent.

Bella clapped her hands in glee, a childish laugh coming out of her mouth.

"Can I play too?" the deranged woman asked.

Fenrir looked over towards Bella, and with a sweep of his arm and a tiny bow of his head, he acceded to her. "By all means," he stated, taking a giant step back.

"Oh, goody," she pronounced, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, her wand clasped between her hands.

Voldemort watched the proceedings, taking in the varying body language of his Death Eaters. He glanced towards his throne and saw Severus standing there. He was ramrod straight; he never took his eyes from the proceedings in front of him, never showed a hint of emotion. His eyes then flickered towards Lucius. He saw the smallest grin upon his face. Even under the mask, he knew he got off on watching others suffer; that's what made him so good at what he did for Voldemort – not to mention the vast amounts his vaults held.

Voldemort was so entranced by watching the various reactions from his Death Eaters that he missed the demonstration entirely; not that he minded, it was all the same to him. His eyes slowly went over the three bodies that were lying on the ground in front of him. They were all dead, a fitting end.

"Let this be a lesson to those of you who would even think of betraying me." His arm swept out, encompassing the body of the three young men. "There will be no forgiveness, no mercy shown. You have all witnessed here today what becomes of traitors. Now go." Those nearest the back hurried to leave the room and Apparate back to their homes.

Severus was the last to leave the room, and he nodded his head towards Voldemort as he left.

The door was firmly closed behind Severus and the room was cleared. Lucius remained, as well as the snivelling but valuable Wormtail.

"Wormtail," Voldemort said, admiring the mutilated bodies.

The rat-like man came scuttling over.

"Yes, my Lord." He spoke with trepidation.

"Dispose of the bodies." Voldemort did not even look over to see Wormtail's grimace as he went about his task.

"Lucius, join me," Voldemort demanded as he walked towards the exit.

***

Harry ducked and weaved, narrowly missing the spells that were being fired at him. Making his way to a particularly thick tree, he scrambled behind it as he doubled over and caught his breath. Running for one's life was never an easy task, and the adrenaline in his system was beginning to wear thin.

He knew Severus and Remus were out there somewhere; they had both been training him relentlessly until he had perfected what they had taught him, and they decided that now was the perfect time for a practical assessment.

"Flabra Aquilonis!" Harry heard Remus cast from somewhere behind the tree. Harry had to hold onto his glasses as a furious, bitter wind blew directly at him from the north. He stumbled to his knees, gripping his wand tighter in his fist.

Harry knew it was now or never. He wasn't going to just sit here and wait for the two professors to find him. Gathering his resolve, the wind still whipping at his bruised and battered body, he struck quickly, "Debilito," and the ferocious wind died down suddenly.

Breathing out a sigh of relief, Harry knew he had now given his position away to the enemy, and that was precisely what Severus and Remus wanted. He made a quick decision and left his hiding spot behind the tree, but not before spotting another location to the north-east which was comprised of a few large boulders.

Praying he would be quick enough, he started to run in the zigzag pattern that Severus had taught him. Spells were thrown at him from behind; he knew they couldn't truly hurt him, but he wasn't ready to admit defeat. He dived quickly behind one of the boulders as a spell whizzed by his ear.

"Shit," he swore under his breath and in that same moment cast a swift "Incarcerous," aiming his wand blindly over one shoulder. He heard a thud as his ropes hit their intended mark.

Silently cheering, he knew he wasn't out of the woods yet, and unless he could take down his other professor, he would have to acknowledge defeat, and he was not willingly to do that. Not this time.

He eyed the immediate area. There were no safe spots for him to hide which meant he would have to either crouch down using the boulder as a shield, or stand up and hope that he could get a clear shot at Severus.

Harry fortified himself for what he would do next. His mind was made up. He would fight, and if he lost, so be it.

He was about to stand when the top of the boulder he was hiding behind was blasted and bits of rocks were showering down on him.

Cleaning himself off, he looked up and was staring at the tip of a wand.

"You're dead," Draco Malfoy taunted, grinning down at him.

***

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. Real life has been kicking my butt, literally lately, and I don't honestly know when the next chapter will be out.

To my incredible beta, AmyLouise, I thank you for sticking with this story and for pushing me to write more. Loves you, babe.