He twisted and turned in his bed, his covers thrown off his body and his nightshirt clinging to his torso in the heat of the night. He was dreaming, that was true, but about what, was a mystery.
Hermes hooted, trying to wake his master from the treacherous slumber he had fallen into. But the man did not awaken, and instead flopped onto his stomach, one arm hanging off the side of his bed, the other ruffling his red hair as he delved deeper into his dream.
A faint pop echoed through the front yard of The Burrow. A lone figure had just Apparated in the front of the crooked home; a figure with distinctly red hair and fine black robes that swept behind him as he walked to the door.
Percy Weasley moved towards his former home with increasing hesitancy; he hadn’t been there in two years, after all, and his repentance had become progressively more profound since the day that he had finally opened his eyes to the reality that Voldemort was among them.
There seemed to be more noise than usual in The Burrow, he reflected as he heard the many voices in the house. He would have to apologize in front of all of them. But he wouldn’t back down now! He was a Weasley after all. If there was ever a reason he was sorted into Gryffindor, it was because he had the courage needed to follow the right path; the path his family was following, and the path he would follow soon enough as well.
Steeling his resolve, he reached out to push open the front door. He remembered his father had set a ward on it, making certain that only a Weasley (or a Potter) could open it without the wards going off. He gathered his wits before finally going into the kitchen where it seemed all the voices were competing to be heard. Suddenly, a voice louder and sharper than the rest could be heard above the usual clamoring of the Weasley family.
“FRED! GEORGE! THAT COULD HAVE BEEN DANGEROUS! SOMEONE COULD HAVE STEPPED ON HIM!”
Molly Weasley’s voice appeared to be the same as ever. The volume and tone never changed when she (or anyone else) ran into the infamous pranks of Fred and George. It seemed, from his mother’s tirade, that Fred and George had actually managed to give their father a Canary Cream. Percy waited a moment before finally entering the kitchen. It felt as though he were walking to his doom.
As he moved through the doorway, he was met with the sight of his mother’s back, and standing in front of her, looking slightly abashed and mostly relieved that their mother hadn’t hexed them yet, were Fred and George. Amidst Molly’s yelling and screaming, and the words of reassurance attempted by Fred and George to calm her (“It’s only for a minute, Mum –”, “We didn’t know he was going to eat it –”), there was an incessant chirping somewhere in the vicinity of his dad’s seat.
As his eyes roved the table quickly, he saw that all of his family was there, his eyes lingering slightly longer on the blonde head that stood out from the sea of red. Fred and George were the first to spot him as he walked into the kitchen, as they looked over their mum’s head. After getting over their initial surprise, their eyes became accusatory and considerably wary.
“Mum –” Fred was trying to get Molly’s attention, but couldn’t get a word in edgewise. The rest of the family, who had sported amusing looks while listening to Molly’s tirade, had become just as wary as the twins after laying eyes on the fact that Percy was in their kitchen.
Unlike Fred, who had unsuccessfully tried to get his mother’s attention, George pointed to Percy boldly, getting his point across without words. Mrs. Weasley looked at George as though he would be in for a sound spanking if this was in any way a joke of some sort and turned to face Percy for the first time that evening.
She stood stock still, her eyes wide and unbelieving.
The room was still. There was not a sound except for the thumping of Percy’s heart in his chest. He was sure everyone else could hear it as well. As he looked down at his mum, he could see wariness in her eyes that wasn’t unlike that of the others he was facing. Had she lost faith in him too? He had always counted on his mum to be there when no one else was, though, he knew now that he should not have expected her to welcome him with open arms the moment he walked through the door. He had probably hurt her more than the rest.
“I just…I just came to say that – well that is to say – ahem – I’m sorry.” Percy said with a nod of his head. “I admit I was wrong. I was wrong this whole time. I should have been with you, but I wasn’t, and for that, I’m sorry.” He had a speech rehearsed for this moment, but couldn’t think of the words he had prepared. This was not the way he had wanted to apologize; clearing his throat and stuttering. He had imagined being strong yet contrite, but he only felt shame.
Fred and George were still glaring at him, and though they didn’t have any food in their hands, Percy was sure that had they been holding parsnips he would have had them on his face. He looked to the table where Ron and Ginny sat side by side. Ron looked angrier than Percy had ever seen him, but the usual signs of Ron’s explosive anger were absent, instead his eyes were the only indication of what he felt. Ron had become so grown-up in the time that Percy wasn’t there. How much had he missed?
Ginny, who also sat glaring at Percy, seemed to be sniffling just the littlest bit, and though she was also angry, he was minutely relieved to see something akin to what he saw in her eyes before when he used to spend time with her when they were both younger.
Bill was the one who had shocked him the most. His formerly handsome face bore long scars across it, accentuated by the deep scowl he wore as he watched Percy. Fleur who sat next to him, looked a bit confused, and still, her familiarity with the Weasley ways showed that she too was angry with Percy, whom she had not even had the pleasure (or displeasure) to know because he had abandoned his family in their time of need.
Charlie, whose back had been turned when Percy entered, twisted his body to see his brother clearly. Percy detachedly noticed that Charlie’s freckles had multiplied considerably and more clearly noticed that he too looked at Percy as though he were out of his mind for even coming into The Burrow. Percy wondered how much Charlie knew. The thought that he was angry beyond words brought a shiver to Percy’s spine. When Charlie was angry, he was dangerous to be around. He may have still appeared to be Molly’s “little boy” at the age of 22, but to anyone else, he was a full grown man almost as dangerous as his dragons when provoked.
And finally, perched on the table in front of father’s seat, was a tiny yellow canary that appeared to be glaring at Percy through small beady eyes partially hidden behind comically large glasses that sat crookedly on his beak. Percy was sure that had his father been in his usual state, he would have been staring angrily at him like the rest of them.
Turning to face his mum again, Percy braced himself, trying to find words that would break the accusatory silence that filled the room. When he turned back to her, however, instead of the anger and guardedness that he expected, he saw that she had tears in her eyes. Eyes full of love for her third son, the one who left her when she needed him most; and the one whom she was still going to accept, and forgive, despite his past decisions.
Unexpectedly, she stumbled forward as though her legs were barely supporting her, and hugged the breath out of him.
“Oh Percy! I knew you would come back.” She cried, tears leaking out of her brown eyes as she looked up at him. She held his face in her hand lovingly. “You’re a Weasley, after all. Wouldn’t have been able to stay away from your real family for long.” She sniffed.
Suddenly, with a small snap! Arthur Weasley was sitting at the table staring at Percy with a guarded expression, and yellow feathers floating about his head. “Decided to come back, then?” He asked quietly, his voice tinged with anger. “Or is the Minister still to come in and ask for Harry’s whereabouts?”
“I’m here on my own. The minister doesn’t know it.” Percy replied, looking at Arthur. “Look, I’ve realized that what I did was wrong. I stood on the wrong side, and for that I am really sorry. For not being here. For not being here when you needed me, I’m sorry for that.” He took a step away from his mother and one closer to his father. “I’m here to say that I’ll be here when you need me from now on. I’ll be here to help.”
“How can we know?”
“Well, that’s the reason I came originally.” He said slowly, gathering his wits for what he was going to say next. “To join the Order.” There was a startled gasp from Molly, and even the twins looked surprised at this bit of information.
“How can we trust you?” His father asked, his eyes anxious, betraying his hard tone.
“You have to trust my word. There is nothing else I can say to convince you.” Percy declared, faltering a bit at the thought that they wouldn’t accept him. “I can be your inside source to the Minister. I can tell you what he plans to do, and I can influence his decisions myself. His decisions can come partly from the Order without it being in danger of being found out.”
“Was it your influence, Percy, which led to the Ministry’s decisions to have Harry as their mascot?” Fred asked scathingly, butting in to the conversation.
“Fred, stay out of this. This is not a decision for you to make.” Arthur said sternly, not taking his eyes off Percy, trying to see whether or not this statement had any effect on him. “I don’t know what I should say to you. That decision is not mine to make either.” He said, weighing his words. “But the decision to accept you back into this family is mine, as well as your mother’s. You may be our son by blood, but you haven’t behaved as a son should. Your mother and I – we’ll have to discuss it.” Looking at his wife while he said these words, he motioned to the parlor adjacent to the kitchen and led the way out of the kitchen, his wife hurrying to follow.
Percy jerked awake. Had he really gone to The Burrow? Had they really forgiven him? As he sat up, he shoved his glasses on in a hurry and took notice of his surroundings.
His heart sank. No, he wasn’t at The Burrow. He hadn’t apologized, he wasn’t about to be forgiven, and he wasn’t about to go home. He wanted to desperately. He wanted to go there, and – and – he didn’t know. He didn’t know what he would do if he saw them. Of course he would apologize, but how? How would he ask for forgiveness when he left them? When he knew, now, that he was the wrong one?
He sighed as he got up, walking to the bathroom, berating himself every step of the way for being so cowardly.
If he was a Gryffindor, where was his courage now, when he needed it?
~ ~ ~ ~
A slight pop! announced the arrival of a red headed man wearing black formal robes, horn-rimmed glasses, and an impatient expression.
Percy Weasley did not have a lot of time on his hands. He knew that what he was doing was worthy of getting him into Azkaban for life. He looked at his watch, sighing impatiently. If the man he was meeting wasn’t going to show up within the next few minutes, he would have to reschedule the meeting; there was no way that he was leaving his meticulously planned speech unsaid. He was a Weasley with a purpose, and Weasleys like him always reached their goal in the end.
The big clock tower in the center of the town chimed eight o’clock, and darkness was rapidly descending in Hogsmeade. He looked around and saw most of the shops closing for the night, no doubt wanting to avoid any Death Eaters that prowled the place after dark.
He looked at his watch again; five minutes, that’s all he would give him, then if he still hadn’t shown up…well, he didn’t really want to think about going through the waiting and impatience again.
Percy groaned impatiently, looking around to see if any suspicious people were lurking about, and wondering whether the man had forgotten the meeting after all. As it was, he didn’t really know exactly how punctual barkeepers were, and this one in particular had seemed rough and uncaring towards others. As he swept his eyes around the square again, they stopped on a bright poster attached to the window of a bookstore down the street.
He walked toward it and saw, when he was close, that an author was having a book signing.
AUTHOR OF MANY MAGICAL MYSTERIESAND FANTASIES WILL BE SIGNING BOOKS ON MAY 2ND.
DON’T MISS A ONCE IN A LIFETIME OPPORTUNITY!
Shehu Rites, the name sounded so familiar. As he walked down the street again, to the meeting point deep in thought, Percy remembered; she was Ginny’s favorite author as a child. Ginny had her entire collection, from Magical ABC’s to My Favorite Jinxes and Hexes. That was where Ginny had probably learned (and modified) her infamous bat-bogey hex. No one would believe that a children’s author would condone such mean hexes, but then again, her fans were rarely bested in duels, whether they be in play, or genuine.
He remembered he used to read to her when she was feeling sad, and one instance came to his mind in particular. Ron was finally leaving for Hogwarts, and Ginny was miserable at being the only one left behind. She had eventually perked up after he read her favorite bedtime story to her. She was only ten years old after all and being completely alone for hours at a time would be a new experience to her. He smiled as he remembered her innocence of that night.
Ginny Weasley was sitting on her bed in a room situated on the third floor right underneath her brother Ron’s in their very rickety old house. In her hands, she held a book, and though she wasn’t really reading the words, she knew this story by heart. The Boy Who Lived was her favorite story, and while she did not have much to choose from, she knew that it would always be her favorite one when she did have more to choose from. Currently, though, she was sitting up in her bed, unable to sleep despite the late hour.
Tomorrow all of her brothers were going away and leaving her behind. Bill was going to go to Egypt with the pyramids and Charlie was going to Romania with the dragons. The rest, Percy, Fred, George, and, she sighed, Ron, were going to go to Hogwarts. Without her. Ron said that he would write to her, and visit too during the holidays, but that didn’t matter. They were best friends after all, they were always supposed to stay together. He was just so excited that night, though. Of course he would be, but he didn’t even think about how she was feeling, and he just kept going on and on about how much fun he was going to have at Hogwarts. She sighed again. Without her.
She stopped flipping pages as she heard footsteps on the stairs. If her mum found her here, still awake, she would be in for a sound reprimanding. But as the footfalls got nearer, she realized that the steps were coming from the stairs above, and not below where her parents’ room was. The footsteps stopped by her room and a redheaded someone poked their head through the half open door.
“What’re you still doing up Ginny?” Percy whispered, his voice hoarse from sleep.
“Couldn’t sleep.” She answered in a small voice.
“Oh,” he said, yawning as he stepped into her room. “What’s that you’re reading?” He asked, pointing to the book on her lap.
“Magical Bedtime Stories,” she replied, handing it to him so he could see it. He smiled.
“I remember this one. I used to read it to you at bedtime.” He handed it back to her. “Well, you should go to sleep. Mum’s going to go mad if we’re late tomorrow,” he told her, yawning again as he turned to leave the room.
“Will you read it to me, Percy?”
He looked closely at her. Ginny never asked him to read to her anymore. She knew how to after all, but as he looked intently he could tell she had been crying. “Why were you crying, Ginny?”
She closed her eyes and fell back against her pillows with a soft thump. “I wasn’t crying.” She said. “You know I don’t cry.”
“Is it because Ron’s leaving now, too?” He asked, pulling up the chair from her desk to her bed.
She looked at him for a moment, trying to decide whether to tell him the truth. “It’s because I don’t think he’ll miss me like I’ll miss him.” She said finally. She looked as though she was on the verge of crying again. Her eyes had certainly gone misty and her lower lip was trembling.
“I’ll remember you, though. I always do, don’t I?” Percy said, trying to cheer her up. “And besides, it’s his loss if he doesn’t write to you; he’s the one who’s going to miss our baby sister growing up.” Ginny scowled, he knew she hated being called a baby, most of all by him, because he actually meant it. “Anyway, I’ll read you this story, but after that, you have to promise to go to sleep, alright?” He took the book from her and began reading as she lied down in her bed, burrowing herself in the blankets.
“‘Once upon a time, there was a boy named Harry Potter who lived in a great white castle in the land of Godric’s Hollow. He was a prince and a hero loved by many, and the only child of Queen Lily and King James.
‘His mother and father only had one son, who, it was rumored, would be the greatest king to rule the land. Prince Harry was the envy of many, but most of all a monster that everyone called You-Know-Who. They called him that because he was so scary, with eyes as red as blood and skin as white as–’”
“Has she ever seen him, Percy?”
“The author. Has she ever seen You-Know-Who?” Percy raised his eyebrows in confusion. “How does she know what he looks like?”
“I don’t know, maybe she has. Maybe she knows someone that has. Or maybe she hasn’t, and she’s just going off of what the rumors say. Does it matter anyway, Ginny?” he asked exasperated.
“No, I was only wondering.”
“Well then…'with eyes as red as blood, and skin as white as –’”
“Has Harry Potter seen him?”
Percy huffed, “Well, probably, considering he’s the one who defeated You-Know-Who.”
“Do you think he’ll remember what You-Know-Who looks like?” Ginny asked, and Percy only stared at her. “I mean, he was so young when You-Know-Who was defeated, do you think he really remembers what You-Know-Who would look like? It’s been such a long time, after all.”
“Why does it matter, Ginny? You-Know-Who’s gone, and he’s not coming back, there’s no reason for Harry Potter to remember him anyway. Now if you would stop interrupting me, I could finish the story and we could actually get enough sleep before getting ready tomorrow morning.”
“Well sor-ry.” She huffed, folding her arms defiantly.
“Ahem. Where was I? Oh yeah…‘skin as white as the skull it clung to. He had a plan to bring down the prince, and so, with his faithful servants ever at his side, he strode into the kingdom brandishing both sword and wand.
“’As the people of Godric’s Hollow saw him approach with his vast army, they ran to the castle for shelter where they knew their hero slept peacefully. As the castle doors opened, the people of the kingdom flooded into it, and began begging for protection from the evil monster. As their faithful King and Queen ran to protect them, all through kingdom, a sweet sound rose. It was the song of the Phoenix! The Phoenix had come to protect them and only The One who was destined to greatness could awaken the Phoenix from his deep slumber.
“‘A bright flash of gold and red passed through the castle doors. The people cried out in awe as they finally caught a glimpse of the majestic bird; the prince was sitting astride it, and while it was flying, there was a colossal BOOM and the kingdom was thrown into all encompassing silence. There was only the echo of the Phoenix Song, and Prince Harry was nowhere to be seen.
‘The people of the kingdom walked out of the castle and with the King and Queen leading them, they saw the destruction that befell their once beautiful land. Ashes surrounded the castle, and though not a scratch was upon them, their cottages were also covered in ash. Through all the chaos that they held in their hearts at seeing this devastating sight, only one thought flew from their minds to their lips: Where was Harry Potter? Had he survived this catastrophe?
‘Suddenly, out from the ashes in the clearing of the meadow, the brilliantly coloured Phoenix rose. As it ascended toward the skies a small figure could be seen floating along with it.
“Is that the prince?!” The townspeople wondered.
‘The worried gazes of his mother and father followed the Phoenix on its flight. Suddenly, it took a steep dive through the castle doors and disappeared within the empty chambers. With the King and Queen at the head of the crowd, the people rushed into the castle and found, perched regally on the stone base, the Phoenix, and sitting beside it a small boy with hair as dark as night, and eyes as bright as emeralds, cooing and tugging playfully on the radiant feathers of the great bird.
‘As Prince Harry looked up and saw his mother and father, he smiled, his hands reaching out to his mother. His sparkling green eyes showed happiness and victory as he looked up into his mother’s face and, for the first time, he babbled a word that took each person’s breath: “Love” he said, as only babies can, and from that day on, the people surrounding him knew that with that Love, he had conquered the monster, and with that love, he would rule their kingdom of Godric’s Hollow.’”
Percy closed the book with a satisfied sigh, and realized with a jolt of surprise that Ginny had fallen asleep while he was reading. He smiled as he looked into her face; the picture of an angel’s. Her red hair spilled around her, the freckles dancing across the bridge of her nose in the faint light, and the small smile that her pink lips formed as she dreamed pleasant dreams of her very own fairytale land. He sighed and put the worn book on the bookshelf beside Ginny’s bed.
“Goodnight, Gin.” He whispered, looking down at his sleeping sister. He bent to brush his lips against her forehead and turned to leave her room for the last time that year.
As he moved to close the door behind him, he caught a last glance of her little red head nestled amidst the soft fluff of her bed and sighed again as he finally closed her bedroom door and crept up the stairs to open his own.
Percy let out a deep breath. It hurt so much to be away from all of them, from her. He was to blame for everything; leaving his family, leaving her. How had he left her, unprotected, unsafe, unhappy? She was his sister. He was never supposed to have left her. He was supposed to keep her safe.
He turned and caught a glimpse of the castle rising above the hill on Hogsmeade’s High Street. She would be there right now, studying perhaps, or making mischief with her friends. She was like Fred and George in that respect; she almost always had that hint of mischief in her eyes.
He looked back at the poster, trying not to remember how she’d looked at him last winter when he’d arrived at The Burrow with the Minister. She could have frozen the entirety of London with that glare.
“What’re you doing out in the open, boy?” growled a familiar voice from the shadows, shaking him out of his memories.
“Get in here, and stay quiet, mind you,” The Hog’s Head barman was beckoning him inside his dark pub, “I don’t want any Death Eaters messing around my pub when I’ve said I’m closing.”
“You were supposed to be meeting me on High Street! In front of the tower!”
“Yeah, well, I decided it wouldn’t be – how d’you ministry folk say it – prudent, at this time in the evening,” he looked at Percy as he bolted his door, his eyes piercing. “Thought I might have to run out and tell you to follow me for all the brains you were showing.”
Percy scowled. Where Albus Dumbledore tended to make good humored jibes, his brother seemed to have inherited none of his tact.
“What did you want to see me for anyway?”
“I – well, that is – ”
“Out with it, boy! We don’t have all day. Curfew’s going to be set soon!”
“I came here to join the Order of the Phoenix.” Percy blurted. “I mean, if you’ll have me.”
Aberforth looked at him steadily, neither accepting nor rejecting his request. He turned and lit a candle.
“The Order’s gone,” he growled, “there’s nothing left of it, no one is willing to risk their safety in openly rebelling against You-Know-Who.”
Percy was flabbergasted. “G – gone? Gone where? How?” How could the Order of the Phoenix be finished? How could they have lost hope?
“It’s not there anymore! Is there any other way to spell it out to you?” Aberforth asked, exasperated. “I thought you were supposed to be the smart one in the bunch. Albus said you were the only one to make it into the Ministry.”
“If I had been the smart one, I would never have joined it,” Percy mumbled, more to himself than anything. “Anyway, I need to know that my family is safe, can you do that, Aberforth? Can you let me know when they need help? You said you knew the whereabouts of most of the members in the Order when I last met you.”
“I don’t know about that,” he replied. “Last I heard of ‘em, they were alright, but it’s been days since I’ve heard anything at all.”
“Do you have any contact at all with people inside Hogwarts?” Percy asked desperately, if nothing else, he had to make sure Ginny was safe, even though he knew she wanted nothing to do with him.
Aberforth looked suspicious, “If this is to do with your sister, she’s fine. Last I heard of her, she tried to steal Gryffindor’s sword from Snape’s office.”
“That sister of yours is a real troublemaker, she got off real easy, just a detention, I heard. She’ll be safe as long as McGonagall’s around.” He looked at the window, to the half-moon appearing in the sky. “If that’s all you came to say, then you’d better get going, it’s getting darker by the second.”
Percy hesitated, his heart still racing from hearing of Ginny’s near escape.
“Go, boy! If the Death Eaters catch sight of you, they’ll never let your family be in peace. Go!”
“Fine,” Percy was hastily putting on his cloak, “but just give me your word, tell me you’ll let me know when it’s time to fight.”
“I will, now go! Before they set up the Caterwauling charms!”
Percy left the pub, and as quietly and as swiftly as he could, he stepped into the alley where he had Apparated for his secret meeting. After one last look at the castle, and fervently hoping Ginny was safe inside it, he took a deep breath and turned on the spot, disappearing from sight.
“Percy! Percy, wake up!”
Percy started in his bed as he was jolted from sleep and looked warily around the room. Hermes hooted indignantly from his perch, where he had been happily nibbling on the remains of the frog he had caught, when a voice swore nearby. Percy grabbed his wand from beneath his pillow and stumbled from his bed.
“Are you there, boy?” A gruff voice asked from the vicinity of his makeshift dining area. Of course, Percy thought, it must be the Floo! As Percy made his way toward the fireplace, he saw the barman of The Hog’s Head staring frantically around the room trying to catch sight of him.
Percy’s heart jumped to his throat. If Aberforth was here, and at this time of night, that would mean that there was trouble at Hogwarts! God, was it time to fight?
“What? What is it, Aberforth?”
“They’ve started. Potter’s at Hogwarts, and Voldemort’s coming soon, I can feel it.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can. In your pub? Through the portrait?” Percy asked as he buttoned his shirt hurriedly. He had been there visiting Aberforth, gathering news when they heard footsteps coming from inside the wall above the fireplace. They were shocked, not to find little Ariana alone in the portrait but a severely beaten and bruised Neville Longbottom stumbling behind her.
“That’s right, boy. You’d better hurry – ” he cut off, turning his head to the side, “Seems I have more company to take care of,” he growled angrily, rolling his eyes at the thought of more people traveling through his sitting room. “Hurry up and get here, all your brothers have already been through. Don’t want to be left out, do ya?”
As his head disappeared from the flames, Percy froze, he would have to apologize now? In front of half of the wizarding world? Of course, the one thing that mattered the most would be the thing he’d saved until the last minute.
He pulled his robes on, straightened his glasses, and took a deep breath. I’m coming! he thought desperately, willing them to wait for him. As he looked at his dingy apartment, he felt the panic beginning to rise in him. Voldemort’s coming, Aberforth had said, and if his brothers were there, that meant his mother, his father, Ginny…they were all there.
He set his jaw, his shoulders straight and tense. He wouldn’t let them down this time. He knew who was right, he knew what was right, now he just had to do something about it. As he threw some Floo powder in the fireplace and directed himself to Hog’s Head, he felt the weight lift off his shoulders. He was going home to his family.
AN: I had originally written the dream portion of this before DH came out, and was trying to post that before JKR's book release for DH, but unfortunately, due to beta problems I wasn't able to. So, I came up with a way to weave my own 'Percy's homecoming' with JKR's; and with the endless and much appreciated help from my wonderful beta, I was able to write a satisfactory account of Percy's viewpoint. Thanks Arnel!
Also, I know that the bedtime story in here is really, really sappy, but honestly, it's a bedtime story - and I couldn't help putting a little too much sappiness and over-exaggeration in there...sorry. The author's name is really obvious as well...I couldn't think of anything remotely interesting for the name...sorry again!
Anyway, I really hope you all enjoy reading this one! I had a lot of fun writing it... :)