I present chapter seven! :)
Thank you to all you fabulous readers who have been reviewing/rating my story! I appreciate ALL your feedback.
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All It Takes | ||||||
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Category: Alternate Universe Characters:None Genres: Angst, Romance Warnings: Death, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Violence Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 150 Summary: Sometimes things don't always work out the way you plan them. Ginny must come to terms with life after the war, even if her life isn't exactly what she thought it'd be. She'll soon realize that all it takes is one little moment to make everything fall into place Hitcount: Story Total: 81809; Chapter Total: 5764 Author's Notes: |
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Chapter 7: Saying The Most Complicated Simple Thing There were many people gathering around the monumental addition to the Atrium, looking at it with expressions of awe and grief, pointing at familiar names and murmuring stories about bravery and honour to each other. Ginny caught up with George and wordlessly and together, they moved as close to the wall as possible to look upon the beautiful marble for their brother’s name. Ginny spotted it on the right-side closer to the center and she felt a lump form in her throat as she remembered the last time her family had to see Fred’s name on his tombstone. Engraved in this marble monument however, the name was not a terrible reminder of loss, but proof of his courage and his efforts. Frederic Weasley: May 2, 1998 Losing her brother had been more difficult than she was ready to admit, but having to watch George endure this loss was far, far worse. Beside her, her brother’s face was pale and stony; his lips pressed in a firm line that drooped slightly into a grimace. The tension lines around his eyes and the way he stood rigidly next to her spoke of a pain deeper than anything she’d ever felt. Ginny had lost her brother, but for George, it was probably more akin to losing part of himself. George had been inseparable from his twin brother and although George had put on a good front, the pain of losing Fred had cut him deeply. Reaching out, she took her brother’s arm and stepped closer, squeezing his forearm with a slight pressure as she continued to stare up at Fred’s name. George did not look at her, but his lips tugged into the ghost of a grateful smile that quickly vanished as he returned to his private thoughts. Lee Jordan made his way through the crowd toward them and Ginny released her brother as the two spoke embraced. She wanted to remain with George to make sure he was no alone, but Lee was probably the best person to comfort George right now. Ginny glanced back at the wall, her eyes skimming over the names there with mixed feelings of pride and sadness over all those who had died. Ginny’s eyes ran down the wall, spotting many other names that jumped out at her from the beautiful marble plaque, reminding her of the cost of freedom. Harry’s parents names were the first two she read, and she felt a pinch of sadness for Harry. She could not imagine not ever having knowing her own parents, and it was miraculous Harry had become such a strong, well-rounded person without having a loving family to support him. If she was sure that if she ever ran into his Aunt and Uncle, she’d be tempted to hex them for all the extra unnecessary and cruel pain that they had inflicted on Harry. James Potter. Lily Potter. Remus Lupin. Nymphadora Tonks. Sirius Black. Albus Dumbledore. Mad-Eye Moody. Cedric Diggory. Severus Snape. Colin Creevey. There were many, many more names engraved in the marble–it was heartbreaking to realize how many people had lost their lives over the years. She turned from the wall to give others a chance to see the wall up close. She glanced back at her brother, but seeing that he was still deep in conversation with Lee, she made her way back through the crowd and looked over at the table to see Harry, Ron and Hermione were surrounded by people again. Not wanting to awkwardly stand around, she turned and decided to walk around the Atrium to see who else was here tonight that she knew. She hadn’t been walking long before she ran into Luna and Neville who were both extremely happy to see her. By nine-thirty, the party was in full-swing and many of the older guests started to depart as the music became more to the liking of the younger generations. People were moving onto the dance floor with friends, but others crowded around tables around the edge of the Atrium, enjoying various drinks and finger foods under the dim light of hundreds of candles. Ginny found herself dancing in a group with Luna, Ron, Hermione, Seamus, Dean, Lee, and George. The last she’d seen Harry, he’d been engaged in conversation with some friends from the Aurors and he had not yet reappeared. When a slower song began to play and many people began to pair off to dance, Ginny decided this was her cue to leave. She wanted to spend some time with Harry before the end of the night, and she had a feeling that unless she went looking for him now, she wouldn’t get to talk to him until tomorrow. After circling the Atrium once, she determined that Harry was not inside anymore, though she doubted that he’d have left without saying goodbye to her, Ron and Hermione. She noticed people exiting out a set of doors behind the band and so she headed in that direction, wondering if Harry had stepped out for some air. There were many people outside enjoying the cool night air as they wandered around a beautiful courtyard. The cobblestone walkways wound around beautiful, expansive gardens and in the center of the courtyard was a beautiful clock tower. Lights were strung amidst the trees and shrubs, providing a soft light for those who chose to be outside. Ginny raised her dress a little to avoid letting it drag on the ground and followed the path along until she found Harry seated on a stone bench, a goblet in his hand, and a sombre expression on his face. What was he doing out here alone? She moved toward him, a little baffled that he was sitting out here all by himself when his friends were all inside and there were hundreds of people who would love to have a conversation with him. “Hiding, are we?” She asked lightly, alerting him to the fact that she had found him. Harry looked up from his goblet, clearly startled by her presence, but he thankfully did not look disappointed to see her. He smiled, although his eyes were troubled as he gestured for her to sit next to him. She sat on the cool stone, shivering suddenly with the combination of the cool night air and the cold stone beneath her. Her shiver did not escape his notice. “Are you cold?” Ginny shrugged, hugging herself. “I’m okay.” Ignoring this, Harry slid his robe off and helped her into it wordlessly. The warmth enveloped her like slipping into a warm bath and she resisted the urge to turn her nose into the soft fabric of his Auror’s cloak and inhale the scent of him that wafted up toward her. She hesitated, not wanting him to freeze on account of her. “Won’t you be cold?” He shook his head and smiled slightly. “No, I’ll be fine. Besides, I wouldn’t want you to get sick because you’re sitting out here with me. You can go back inside, you know. I just wanted some air.” Ginny arched an eyebrow and playfully and gently nudged him with her elbow. “You’re hiding out here, don’t lie to me, Potter.” She paused, looking at her feet. “My feet are killing me anyway… I could do with a break from dancing.” He chuckled as he watched her take off her shoes and wiggled her toes in the cool, lush grass. After a moment, he gestured across the courtyard. “I never knew there was this kind of green space in the heart of London.” Ginny followed his gaze, taking in the green grass and the extensive gardens of perfect flowers. “I think it’s been enchanted. We’re probably sitting in an alley where they keep the dumpsters.” “I’d stop rubbing my feet into that grass, then,” he advised her, his voice light. “It’s been enchanted… but please let me know if my feet start to reek of garbage or something.” A small chuckle escaped him and the sound eased her. She could still make him laugh; this was a very good thing. Ginny knew that something was up, and she wasn’t about to leave until he admitted why he was sitting outside on his own. “What are you doing out here? You’re missing the party,” he asked her curiously, beating her to the question she had been about to ask him. “I came looking for you,” she replied coolly. “What are you doing out here, anyway?” “Just getting some air,” he said again. She made a noise of disbelief. “You’re a bad liar, Harry. It’s been a while since we’ve hung out, but I can tell. You don’t have to pretend with me.” She hesitated and then asked more gently, “What’s wrong?” “It’s complicated,” he admitted quietly, lifting his eyes to watch a happy couple walk past. The man was murmuring to a woman as he slid his arm around her waist, both smiling at whatever he was saying. “You can tell me… unless it’s about me. In that case, you should probably register your complaints with Hermione.” It was a joke, but he seemed to think she was being serious. He looked at her sceptically for a moment, as if she were being absurd. “No, it’s not you, Gin.” When she didn’t take her eyes off him, he sighed in defeat and asked, “Have you ever felt like your entire life was planned out for you?” This surprised her. “Kind of. I’m the seventh in my family to go to Hogwarts… there were lots of expectations set for me: I had to get into Gryffindor, get good grades, do well for myself like my brothers and my parents…” There was another expectation set for her last year about being expected to wait for Harry, but she decided not to mention this one. He nodded, taking another drink from his goblet. “Well, I knew I was meant to kill Voldemort. I only had one thing in my future to work for, and when I came out alive, I was excited to have the chance to actually live my life. I just feel like I’ve been cheated of that again. Everything I could have worked for has been handed to me as a reward, but I didn’t earn any of it. I just don’t feel normal, and that’s all I want for myself. I’m getting a little tired of everyone looking at me like I’m some kind of saviour. I’m Harry Potter: The-Boy-Who-Lived, The Chosen One, The One Who Defeated Lord Voldemort.” Ginny tucked a large curl behind her ear, thinking carefully about her response. “Harry, there are plenty of people who know you for much more than that.” “That’s not how five hundred people in there see it,” he muttered dully. He drained whatever was in his goblet. “The war is over… I kind of hoped that life would go back to normal after I ended it all. I had an idea of what I wanted my life to be like… and it’s not this.” He paused for a moment before adding, “It’s not that I’m ungrateful for the things they’re giving me. I don’t want to be given a free pass at life, and that’s what it feels like. I’d like to be no one- to be a normal wizard. I want to worry about the little stuff, you know? I wanted to be normal and worry about paying rent for a dingy little flat and working hard for a spot with the Aurors. I shouldn’t be worrying about how the hell I’m going to fill my new estate home with stuff.” There was a long pause and then he looked at her worriedly. “That’s not stupid, is it?” Ginny reached out and placed her hand on his arm. “No, of course not! I understand that you want to be normal and that you don’t want all this attention. You’ve never wanted any of the special attention you’ve always been given, and you were never given a choice in whether or not you wanted to be the one to defeat Voldemort. It was something that was forced upon you by fate.” This made him look a little less anxious. “Thank you. I just want people to stop looking at my scar when I introduce myself. I must have met over a hundred people tonight and they always look at my forehead first. If my fringe is covering my stupid scar, they’ll keep staring until they get a glimpse!” His voice shook with frustration. “I want to earn things instead of being entitled to them because I’m Harry Potter. And I definitely did not expect to live in anything bigger than a two bedroom, one-bathroom house until I was ready to get married and have kids one day. What am I supposed to do in a huge house by myself?” Ginny had the suspicion that seventeen years worth of irritation and frustration was coming out tonight–not that she blamed him. If she was given a spot on the Harpies because of something that she miraculously achieved like vanquishing the Dark Lord instead of her hard work, she’d forever feel as if she wasn’t good enough to be on the team otherwise. She rubbed his arm reassuringly. “There are still lots of choices to make, and even more mistakes to make in your life. You still have to make all the big decisions. You still have to do the job you’ve been given, and you still have to pay the bills and the mortgage on the house. And there’s nothing to stop you from selling the house and moving to your dream dingy flat. You could burn it to the ground, add another floor and a couple towers, or you could sell it and live in a basement apartment. It’s up to you what you do with all these things.” Harry chuckled reluctantly. “Somehow I think I’d offend the Ministry and a lot of people if I burnt the house to the ground.” As soon as he’d said it, he seemed taken aback by the idea. “Wow, worrying about offending the Ministry is not something I’d ever thought I’d be concerned with.” “Times are changing,” she agreed wryly. They sat in a slightly uncomfortable silence for a few moments before Ginny spoke again, determined to make him feel better. “You know what, what does everyone else matter, Harry? After you go home tonight, you get to chose what you want to do, where you’ll go, and who you’ll be. Who gives a damn what they want or what they expect of you? You may be the chosen one to them, but to my family… to Ron, to Hermione… to me… you’ve always been just Harry. And we’re the ones who care about you! We’re the ones who don’t look at your scar and think of you as Harry Potter: the-boy-who-lived.” She placed her hands on his shoulders, her voice ringing with the conviction of her words. “To me, you’ve always been the skinny guy with an eternal need for a hair brush! You’re Harry: you’re fantastic at Quidditch, you’re gorgeous after you’ve flown around the pitch, and you’re the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher Hogwarts had. And yeah, you’ve got some gold… a house… but that’s good. You have everything going for you! I wouldn’t be sitting here feeling sorry for myself… I’d definitely make use of my estate home. Build an indoor Quidditch pitch… throw lots of parties… let Ron move in with you! You have everything anyone could want… ” When she’d told him he was gorgeous, his eyes lit up and he seemed to be accepting what she was saying–right until the end when. “I don’t have everything,” he muttered distractedly, running a hand through his hair. Ginny raised an eyebrow sceptically at him and playfully nudged him. “Really? What don’t you have? I’m sure you could have anything you wanted.” When he still didn’t smile, she raised her eyebrows and added teasingly, “Trust me… I dare you to go in there and ask for whatever you wanted!” He laughed once and turned to her. “Well, there was a good twenty-four hours where I thought a muggle had the one thing I knew I wanted after the war.” His green eyes held her gaze, burning with the intensity of that statement. Ginny could feel the heat rise up in her face and the happiness build up in her chest, but she couldn’t find her voice, let alone a response to his allusion. “Gin, you are the one thing in my life right now that I know I want for sure. I knew it’s been awkward between us all summer, but I was jealous and stupid. I didn’t have the courage to say something, anything to you after the war, and then you started disappearing into the village…” Ginny swallowed the lump in her throat, at a loss for words. Had he really just said that? Now she felt confused; she thought his glum mood hadn’t been about her? Finding her voice, she asked: “Is this about you being bummed out about the house or about how we can’t seem to find a way to get back together?” His lips twitched as if he wanted to smile. “Both, I guess. It was harder than I can tell you to end things between us at Dumbledore’s funeral… you were my best source of comfort because you made me see there was more to my life than just Voldemort and the job Dumbledore had left me to do.” He sighed and admitted glumly, “I know I shouldn’t be so upset about the house... I’m no longer held to a prophecy and I’ve got enough gold that I wouldn’t have to work for several years if I didn’t want to. But I just keep thinking about you with Jackson… or you and Dean… or you with any other guy who has looked at you tonight.” She smiled, incredulous that this was part of the issue; something so easily resolvable. “You don’t need to feel jealous. Harry, I’m out here because I want everything you want. It’s easy.” She took his hand without hesitation and watched as his fingers immediately laced with her own. His warm hand pressed against her cool palm and she squeezed it, subconsciously grateful for the extra source of warmth. He eyed her suspiciously. “Really? Even though I had no bloody clue how to just say that I wanted you? What about the fact that I didn’t have much left in me to fight for you like Hermione kept telling me to? Or how I tried to punch your friend or stormed off on you on the beach?” Why was he trying to pin the whole thing on himself? “All that stuff aside, I wasn’t lying at Dumbledore’s funeral when I told you I never gave up on you. I still haven’t. Neither of us are perfect… and this summer was rotten because of me, too.” The cold air was starting to get to her, even with Harry’s cloak. She got to her feet, still feeling chilled under Harry’s warm robe. “Come inside with me? I’m freezing in this dress. Besides, all our friends are here… I wouldn’t want to keep you from them.” She slid her heels back on her feet a little reluctantly and waited for Harry to stand up, but he didn’t seem to be moving. He was looking at her sceptically again, his eyes searching her face. “Why did you wait for me?” He asked in a low voice. When she respond immediately, he added, “why haven’t you given up?” Ginny frowned at him. Why hadn’t she given up? Why would she give up? Did he not understand that he had been her source of comfort when they were dating at school? Did he not understand how much she’d liked him for years before he’d finally noticed her? He still wanted an answer, but she didn’t have an easy one besides asking him why would she? “I started to realize I was too much like Dumbledore because I refused to let anyone else in,” he told her in an awed voice. “Even Ron and Hermione sometimes had to struggle to make me let them in.” He set down his goblet and got to his feet, suddenly making her feel small and fragile next to his tall, now-muscled frame. “I didn’t think about letting you in,” he added, still looking at her in wonder. “You are the only person except for Ron and Hermione that I’ve let get close to me, and it wasn’t something I had to force. It was easy- natural- like you’d been there all along.” “I’m stubborn,” she replied in an attempt to be cheeky, but it came out more breathless. The truth was she hadn’t really tried–their relationship had been as normal as breathing. They’d only been together for a month, but it had felt like years somehow. “You’re sneaky,” he countered. She didn’t care that people were starting to notice that Harry Potter, the guest of honour, was standing very close to her. She was tired of playing these back-and-forth games with him, especially since it was clear that they both wanted to be together. Feeling her Gryffindor courage welling up inside her, she decided to go after what she wanted. Closing the inches between them, she kissed him. Harry kissed her back with the same enthusiasm and Ginny fought a happy moan that threatened to escape her as her fingers entangled themselves in his hair. Harry tasted of champagne and smelt of something more delicious. This kiss was better than last night’s, and rivalled their first kiss. Last night’s kiss had been passionate, impulsive, desperate, but this was different. She’d forgotten that it had felt like this; that she could feel so happy, perfect and complete with just a kiss. She’d forgotten that kissing Harry was far better than anything else she’d experienced in the world. When he pulled back almost all too soon, she was not able to repress a sigh of disappointment. He chuckled at the sound and pressed his forehead against hers. “I’ve missed you.” Before she could respond, he was kissing her again and so she slid her arms around his neck and allowed herself to be lost in the kiss. His other arm slid around her waist, pulling her against him. Ginny didn’t care that they weren’t alone, or that others would witness this very private moment. She’d never felt so alive or so complete since long before Voldemort had returned to power. Getting back together with Harry was definitely something she should have done a long time ago. Her heart was pounding in her chest and her body was humming with excitement. For one wild moment she imagined he’d pull her away to find a secluded spot to snog as he used to do while they were at school. It was whispering that broke through the moment and she pulled back first, a little embarrassed at her musings over whether or not she could convince Harry to find a more private spot. Harry’s gaze locked on a group of gawkers and his face fell when he looked back at her. “People will talk, you know… worse than before,” he murmured to her darkly. “It probably won’t be as simple as you might think. I tend to attract a lot of bad press, and I’m only guessing it’ll get worse now that I’m seen as this ridiculously epic hero.” True to his word, it was at that moment that a camera flash made Harry go rigid as he stepped to block Ginny from view. “Do you mind?” He asked the photographer crossly. “Who’s the lucky gal, Potter?” The man asked excitedly, raising his camera to take another photo. “How about giving her a big smooch for the camera?” “No thanks,” Ginny told him calmly, tugging on his hand to lead him back inside. He sighed, relaxing slightly. “Ready for a lot more of that?” Harry asked grimly. She smiled humourlessly. “Harry, I don’t care. Trust me, they’ve been gossiping about us since we first got together.” “It’s going to get a lot worse,” he replied sadly. “If they get a good one of us, I’ll have it framed,” Ginny told him cheerfully. She’d just kissed and made-up with Harry- the bloody press could print any story they wanted for all she cared. “We don’t have any pictures of us yet, you know.” Harry looked torn between amusement and anxiety. “Do newspaper cut-outs count? We could wait and get some real pictures? Like at events and the odd photo we take together?” “I dunno, Harry. We dated for about a month, you leave me for a year, and we’re only now picking things up. I’d say you owe me several pictures already.” She smirked at him and amended her statement by saying, “In fact, you might have to autograph a few of them for me since you’re this ‘ridiculously epic hero.’” His face was one of mock horror, but his eyes were bright with amusement. It was strangely wonderful to be able to joke around and laugh with Harry again–it was as if nothing had changed. “Okay, I’m just going to get this on the table now: I’m not autographing my girlfriend’s pictures.” She bristled. “You’ll be singing a different tune when I’m a world-famous Quidditch player, but now that you’re refusing me outright, I will not be signing anything of my pictures for you, Mr. Potter.” He laughed, though he glared over his shoulder at the photographer who was still skulking around behind them. Ginny ignored this, hoping that he wouldn’t spend the rest of the night feeling tense about who was watching or what people would say. The second they walked back inside, Ginny could practically feel the surprised stares of those who noticed The-Boy-Who-Lived holding hands with her. When the whispers started, she felt Harry’s hand tighten on hers and he glanced at her with a look that made her realize he was still unsure of whether or not she cared about the gossip. Did he expect the attention would make her bolt? Did he think she couldn’t handle that kind of pressure? Harry’s grip on her hand confirmed this, but she didn’t want to address it. Harry needed to learn to trust in her; trying to reassure him wouldn’t do anything. She had known that Harry would be a noble prat until the day he died, and she was fairly sure that there would plenty of times over the years (if Harry didn’t try and run out on her) that she’d have to tell him to cut it out. Harry had always put himself before others; he was irritatingly thoughtful and noble. The bottom line was that she’d waited too long to be with Harry–she had never, ever given up on him. Standing tall, she smiled confidently as she walked alongside Harry, impervious to the whispers and the stares. The music was playing a slow waltz song and many couples were still crowding the dance floor. Ginny expected Harry to lead her to a table away from the dancing couples but to her surprise, he pulled her into the crowd of dangers and into his arms. She giggled in excited surprise as he spun her around and then pulled her against him playfully–and not at all to the beat of the song. “You dance now?” Ginny asked, pleasantly surprised. “Yes and no,” he replied cheekily. “I’m not letting you go. I wouldn’t want to give anyone the chance to snatch you up.” His arm wound around her waist and his hand rested on her lower back. “I’ve already learned my lesson. Did you see the way Dean was looking at you earlier?” Ginny stepped closer, resting her head on his shoulder. “Yes, thank you for getting all jealous. You’re a little possessive, but luckily, it’s quite cute,” she replied dryly. He surprised her again by pressing a kiss to the side of her head in front of everyone on the dance floor. Ginny felt as if her happiness had formed a large bubble in her chest. Harry might be a little paranoid about losing her to someone else, but she was sure that that feeling would go away once they settled back into a routine. Just as he would have to learn to trust her, she would have to learn to cope with Harry’s life after the war. Not only would he be putting himself in danger with the Aurors, but she also didn’t doubt she’d be praised, hated, envied, scoffed at, and the victim of many rumours and hurtful gossip all at the same time. “Thank you for coming to find me,” he told her, his face completely serious. Ginny smiled and lifted her head to look at him. “Don’t mention it.” “It’s been a while… I’ll have to review the finer points of being a good boyfriend. I guess I’ve started by finally having the courage to ask you to be my girlfriend again.” She raised an eyebrow at him, her smile teasing. “I dunno, Harry, did you actually ask? I don’t think you’ve ever actually asked me. Both times you’ve ‘asked’ by way of a very public kiss, and now that I think about that, I don’t think it’s very fair. You can’t do something that romantic… a girl can’t say no to a boy who spontaneously kisses her like that.” Harry grinned at the memory of the first time they had kissed in the common room. “I thought girls loved the spontaneity of a romantic kiss. Would you prefer the kiss or me awkwardly forcing the words out? Probably messing it up in the process?” She laughed at him and shook her head. “I wouldn’t trade that kiss in the common room for anything. Although watching you trying to nervously form the words might be just as memorable. Maybe tomorrow you should awkwardly ask me. Just for a laugh, you know. I promise I won’t say no.” He rolled his eyes and lowered his head to hers like he was about to kiss her. Ginny held her breath, her heart faltering under the anticipation. “I forgot how troublesome you were,” he said amusedly. The words made her heart melt slightly and the urge to kiss him right there in front of the crowd overwhelmed her. She couldn’t formulate a response let alone remember her own name. When her brain regained its thought processing, she made a mental note to work on remembering to breathe around Harry. “You’ve finally asked her, mate?” Ron’s loud voice asked, startling them both. Ginny was grateful to see that Ron still supported the idea of his sister and his best friend, even if they were openly affectionate in front of him. Harry stepped slightly farther from Ginny as he looked over his shoulder to grin at Ron. “Not exactly… your sister says I can ask her out tomorrow.” Ron tugged Hermione through the crowd and he started dancing with her next to Harry and Ginny. Hermione beamed at Ginny, her cheeks pink as Ron’s arms slid around Hermione’s waist as a sign of open affection. “Why are you making him wait until tomorrow, Ginny?” Hermione asked curiously. Harry beat her to the explanation. “Apparently she’s quite looking forward to me fumbling over the words to ask her. She says girls like that sort of thing?” Harry explained conversationally, glancing at Ginny with a teasing smile. Ron gaped. “Girls don’t actually like watching that sort of torture?” He looked at Hermione, who chuckled at Ron’s horrified realization. “You know exactly what we want to say, but you stand there and make it even harder? That’s awful!” “Poor Ron,” Ginny chuckled, watching Ron begin to demand an answer from Hermione about how long she’d known about his feelings but purposely waited to let him suffer through the asking-her part. “At their wedding, I’m going to talk about how many years I’ve had to watch them bicker over every little thing because they loved each other,” Harry told her low enough so that Ron wouldn’t hear. Ginny chuckled as Harry spun her around this time, a little more gracefully. They fell into a comfortable silence as they simply moved in sync to the music, completely at ease. Ginny felt extremely content with life at the moment. She was finally back with Harry! Her heart felt as if had swollen up in her chest from happiness. Waiting for him last year had nearly killed her with all the worry and fear she had suffered. Looking back, this moment, the kiss in the garden, and the weeks to come seemed to make it all worth it. |
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