Chapter image (made by Alora of The Dark Arts): Four
Chapter Four
"When friendships are real, they are not glass threads, or frostwork, but the solidest things we know. A friend is the first person who comes in when the whole world has gone out." - Unknown
Harry sat deep in thought as Mrs. Weasley spoke to herself worriedly while cleaning his wounds. His eyes stared out, nary a wince or twitch to show that he felt any of her prodding or spell casting to fine-tune his injured appendages. She had paid special attention to the deep hole in his shoulder, but she'd patched him up fairly easily, giving him a potion for pain and healing. Then she'd taken to cleaning up all of his little cuts and washing away the blood and soot that marred his skin. All the while, Ron sat slumped in a chair, the twins exchanged looks only they could decipher while sitting sullenly on the couch, and Arthur stood against the wall, holding a cup of tea, staring at Harry with barely concealed sympathy. Remus had taken up sitting in the kitchen with only his thoughts to keep him company. Harry thought it was more because he still felt like shaking sense into him rather than because he wanted to give Harry privacy. The only thought that continued to run through Harry's mind was that he had to get to Godric's Hollow to check if Hermione had gone over to find safety and refuge after the blow out involving the Death Eaters and her parents. Some part of him was sure that she wasn't there, but there was a hope sparked deep down; terrified that she may truly be in the clutches of a man who would barely blink before killing her.
"There you are, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said, her face still drawn tight from her worry. She patted his arm, rubbing it a moment later as if she thought him fragile and in need of careful handling.
Harry looked over to her, his eyes still glazed "She wasn't in there," he replied, his voice rather monotone.
"I know, dear," she said, her mouth pinching together and her eyes watering. He knew she didn't believe him, or at the very least she thought he'd just not found the body. She, like Remus and probably the others, thought Hermione was dead. They were only placating him and the mere thought made his stomach tighten with anger.
"I have to find her," he said, his chin lifting a notch. He didn't miss the expressions that ran through the room. Arthur stood up taller, Tonks crossed her arms over her chest, Charlie's arm tightened around Ginny who was crying against him, the twins nodded shortly and Ron stared into the fire as if he hadn't heard him at all, expressionless.
"Now, Harry," Mrs. Weasley began, her voice unsure. "Dear," she said softly, "I know that Hermione..." Her voice broke and she lifted a hand to press a few fingers to her quaking lips. "She..."
"Molly," Arthur said quietly, walking toward her, his arms already open to hug her.
Molly shook her head, motioning for him to stay back. A few stray tears escaped her eyes but she looked up to Harry with a strong look in her eyes. "Hermione was like my own, Harry, and I desperately wish that what you say is true." She held up her hand to cut off his reply when his mouth opened. "Please. She was your best friend, so I understand that you want to believe she made it out, Harry. I know that you must be heartbroken and terrified and probably blaming yourself but--"
Harry's jaw tightened and his mouth twisted in a sneer when he cut her off to half-shout, "You're right. I am. I'm worried she's out there somewhere; scared and alone; thinking that nobody is going to come looking for her. That we either believe she's dead or won't allow ourselves to risk our lives to get her back. And it is my fault, no matter what you say," Harry told her, rising from his seat, his chest heaving with his anger. "Had she not been my best friend, he never would have touched her. Her parents wouldn't be lying dead in the street and her house wouldn't be burning right now. But I am. I am her best friend and there is nothing you can say or do that is going to stop me from getting her back." He exhaled heavily, his hands fisting at his sides as he stared down at her. "You can either help me or get out of my way. No matter your decision I will do whatever it takes to find her."
"Harry," Arthur said, stepping forward. "Please, just don't get ahead of yourself. We understand that you're upset, and I can't assume what you saw in that house. There is a possibility that Hermione did not.." He paused, taking in his wife's severe expression, but then continued on, "That she in fact did survive. The likelihood is quite slim and even if she had, you must understand that she could very well have been taken. That possibility is not any better than death though, son." He stepped closer, his hand landing heavily on Harry's shoulder "I have known of more schooled and harder witches and wizards that have never recovered from the damage Voldemort can cause. And if she is with him, it's quite likely she's already... gone." He swallowed, his eyes falling. "But nevertheless, we mustn't jump to conclusions. Hermione is one of our own and we will do all that we can. I'll call an Order meeting, we should discuss this as soon as possible." He stared at Harry, waiting for some kind of response; his expression, though weary and sad, was mildly hopeful.
"She's not dead, I know she's not." He thought over his options quickly before nodding. "I won't do anything until I know what the Order will be doing to help her," he agreed, nodding shortly. He lifted his chin, staring at Arthur steadily. "But know that if you choose to do nothing, I won't hesitate in leaving to find her. Prophecy or not, I'll not let her die for me."
Molly scrambled up, looking back and forth from Harry to her husband. "Say something, Arthur. Harry, you can't... You can't do anything drastic. You're... You're just a boy," she said, her eyes filling and her hands twisting tightly.
Harry turned to her, his eyes reflecting all the years he'd suffered through because of a monster desperate for power. "I haven't been a boy for a very long time," he said simply, before turning away and leaving the room.
He made his way upstairs, his body feeling heavy and sluggish beneath him. His mind swam with tiredness and thoughts of blood and fire shook him to his core. He stumbled into Ron's room, finding his unmade bed and slipped down to rest his weary head. He'd just close his eyes for a moment, wait until the rest of the Order showed up and then listen in on what their plan was. His shoulder jarred as he rolled onto it, a fierce pain stunned him for a moment. Unless he wanted to put up with it for however long he was going to lay in wait, he would be forced to lay on his back. His eyes were heavy against his dry eyes, so he let them fall shut, taking a deep breath and telling himself he'd only lay for a moment or two and then get back up. Sleeping wouldn't accomplish anything and if he knew Hermione at all, he knew that were she in his place, she wouldn't waste any time before going out in search of him. He was just so empty, so afraid that it had all slipped away from him, leaving him with nothing at all. Could Mrs. Weasley be right? Was he running on blind hope? His mind slipped away from him, twisting and turning into a frightful nightmare that clutched at him painfully.
It felt as if time slowed down entirely. She was ahead of him just a little, her hand slipping from his as she made her way to the apparition wards. She turned back, her hair swaying gently across the back of her shirt, "Potter" staring out at him boldly. The sun fell on her, lighting her in a ethereal glow. She smiled at him, her mouth curving warmly. There was a sparkle in her eye; goodbye going unsaid in the way she stared back. He felt a twist in his gut and suddenly his feet were moving and his hand was reaching out for her. "Don't go," he begged, but his words were too late. She disappeared before his eyes.
All of a sudden, he found himself back in front of her house. Fire licking the skies and smoke billowing up. There were no firefighters or paramedics this time, however. No Weasleys or Remus. It was just him, standing in the front yard, his arms hanging uselessly by his sides. Mr. Granger lay on the grass, his usually spirited brown eyes lifeless and a dribble of blood escaping the corner of his mouth. "It's your fault," his blue lipped mouth said, though the rest of him was still as death. "She'll never forgive you."
"I'm sorry," Harry replied, taking a shaky step toward him. "I never meant for you to get hurt. I never... I'm so sorry." Tears blurred his vision and he fought back the bile rising up in his throat.
He could hear screaming coming from the house; Hermione. Terrified, pained screams. Helpless and dying. Harry ran forward, wandless, pushing at the front door but it refused to budge. He ran at it, his shoulder poised, but it refused him still. He ran around to the windows, banging on them with fisted hands, but they wouldn't break. He yelled, calling her name, pleading for help, begging for her to be let go, but the house continued to burn and nobody came to help either of them. He ran around the house, banging on all the windows and stopping at the back door. He kicked and banged and ran at the door, but nothing happened. The handle wouldn't turn, the wood wouldn't give, the house refused him entrance.
"Please! Somebody help me! Harry! Harry, help me, please," Hermione's scared voice rang out, reaching his ears and tearing at his heart. "You were supposed to keep me safe. You promised you'd never let him get me. Harry, please! Please, don't let me die," she sobbed.
"I'm sorry! Please. Hermione, you have to... you have to fight," he yelled back, his throat tight and his face damp with his hot tears. "Hermione..." He stepped back, his eyes scanned the burning, charred wood, as if trying to find her amongst the wreckage. It began to fall apart, the first floor giving out an the second crumbling in on it. He watched her home burn and fall apart a second time, his legs giving out to let him fall, broken on the grass. "I need you. Please. Please, don't leave me," he whispered desperately.
His eyes fell shut while his chest heaved with sobs, his mouth opening to let out a loud, piercing scream of pain. When he caught his breath, his eyes opened again to find he was kneeling on a dirt floor, surrounded by dark brick walls. There was a curled up ball of brown curls and torn clothing in a corner. Scraped legs and dirty arms shivered against the cold and Harry slowly approached the form, sniffling and wiping at his face, his heartbeat speeding up with hope."H-Hermione?"
Slowly, they turned over, dirt and blood matted hair covering part of their face. "S-save me?"
He let out a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping with relief. His hand reached out to touch her shivering arm. "I-I will. I'm coming. Just... Just wait for me. Don't go anywhere. I'll get you out of here. I'll get us home. All right? D'you trust me?" he asked her, finding her arm was cold and her eyes were dark and glazed.
"Of course, Harry. I trusted you to keep me safe. Keep my family alive and well. Never let me suffer for your destiny. But... But you've already failed me, haven't you Harry? You didn't keep me safe. My parents are dead. And I'm suffering, right now, because of you," she said, her voice toneless, nothing like the Hermione he knew. Her eyes refused to meet his, staring off lifelessly.
"I never meant for this to happen. I didn't want you to be a part of it. I wanted you to be safe. I... I would never have let them take you if I could stop it. You know that! You know that I would do anything... Anything for you." He shook his head, his throat sore and tight. His hand tightened around her arm, as if trying to prove it somehow.
Her eyes suddenly changed, becoming a deep, vengeful scarlet. "You're going to lose me, Harry. Just like everybody else you've ever cared for. You didn't save me. You'll find my body, left like the scum that a mudblood is, and you'll know... You let me die, Harry." She leaned up, her hands reaching out to take his face, ice cold and nothing like the warm hand he'd held just that afternoon. "It's all your fault."
"No! No, I won't let him take you, too. Please! Please, don't give up, Hermione. Wait for me. I'm coming. You'll see. I'll find you and save you and we'll... we'll be okay. We'll all be okay," he pleaded, his mouth quaking.
"No, Harry. You've already lost me and you'll never find me again. You might as well have killed me yourself," she told him, shaking her head slowly.
"I would never... I could never... You're everything to me. You're... You're Hermione," he said, as if it explained everything. Tears spilled from his eyes like blood from a fresh wound, pained and warm, gushing without any apparent ending. "I can't lose you. I won't," he said, his expression becoming hard, determined.
"I was everything to you and now you've lost me. What d'you have left then, Harry? Nothing." She shook her head, a soft smile gracing her still cold features. She looked surreal with scarlet eyes, so unlike the girl he knew. Her hands stroked his face lovingly, wiping at his tears. "You could leave all of this, Harry. The pain, the horror, the death. Leave it all behind. Come with me, Harry. Let the others deal with this. You shouldn't have to. You're just... just Harry." She shook her head, her smile softening as she sighed. "Leave them all behind and come with me. There's nothing left for you here. I'll take care of you, Harry. We'll be happy away from all this." She waved around, her nose wrinkling. "Don't you want to be with me?"
Harry nodded, his tears leaking anew. He closed his eyes, his hands raising to cover hers. "I want to be happy."
"Be happy with me," she whispered temptingly. "Just an easy flick of the wand against your skin. The throat, perhaps. Quick and practically painless. And then we'll be together, Harry. Away from all this. Happy."
He nodded, his breathing slowing and his nose twitching as he sniffled. "Hermione always knew how to make me happy."
"I do," she agreed quickly.
"Yeah, but you're not her," he said, letting out a tight, humorless chuckle before he opened his eyes and glared at the girl before him. "Hermione would never tell me to back down. She'd remind me of all that I had left, even without her. And she'd want me to fight for all the people who need me to." He reached out, his hand wrapping around the hair of the now deeply scowling girl with the red eyes. He yanked her forward by her dirty, blood marred curls. "I'm coming for you and when I find you, you'll regret you ever thought you could touch her and live," Harry said, his teeth grit, his eyes thinned.
The girl let out a high laugh, her eyes staring back at him, amused. She tisked, smirking at him devilishly. "Give it time, Potter. Let it all sink in. The loss and loneliness of it all. No mudblood, no godfather, no parents. You're all alone in this world, Harry, and you'll only get lonelier. I've got her now and you'll never get her back. She'll waste away, alone and scared, knowing that her savior never came. And you'll live out the last of your days, waiting for me to come and finish you off, knowing that it was all your fault that so many lives were taken and so many more deaths will follow."
Harry glared at the dark form of his best friend, his jaw tight and his eyes stinging. She began to laugh, a cackle of self assured humor. He hated how her voice and body were being used to torture him and drive him toward madness and he hated how well it was doing.
Before he could think to reply, he felt a shaking yank him from his nightmare, drawing him back to the dark world he lived in. He woke, startled and damp with sweat. His chest heaved and he felt his stomach roll, leaving him breathless. Fred and George were staring down at him, their expressions grim. To his left he could see Ron, sitting slumped on his bed, his elbows on his knees as he stared down at the floor. "Are they here yet? Has the meeting started?" Harry asked, swallowing back the need to rid his body of the dark feeling that still prickled his skin.
The twins looked at each other and then him. "Yes, but they've locked the kitchen up tight."
"Worried we might listen in or something." They rolled their eyes simultaneously.
Frowning, they shook their heads with feigned disappointment, a proud gleam in their eyes. "No faith in us at all," Fred told him, scoffing.
"So we came up to see if you'd like to give the Extendable Ear another go," George offered, a tempting half-smile on his face.
"If they don't trust us, why should we give them the benefit of the doubt?" they wonder aloud, offering up the helpful sneak-instrument.
Harry looked up at them blearily, his arms resting on his upturned legs for a moment before he finally moved to stand up. "Yes, I'd like that. If we leave them to their own devices, we'll never get the whole story," he said darkly.
The twins nodded agreeably and then moved to leave the room. Harry paused when Ron didn't follow and looked back to him expectantly.
"You're sure? She was no where in the house? You checked absolutely everywhere, Harry?" Ron asked, his voice low, carefully toneless.
"Everywhere, Ron," Harry replied, nodding, his expression grim and serious.
"We'll find her," Ron said, his face set in determination. He stood up from his bed, his back straight, his jaw set and his arm crossed tightly over his chest. Harry had never seen his best mate look so formidable before. "An' nobody'll stop us," he vowed, nodding.
Harry nodded back and they left the room, following Fred and George who carefully set up the Extendable Ear at the door. "Charlie knows we're doing this."
"Said he'll say the safe word if anybody else looks suspicious."
"What's the safeword?" Harry asked, cocking a brow.
The twins looked at each. "Dunno, he just said he'd say it."
Harry rolled his eyes.
The ear was set up and not a moment later, they could clearly hear the conversation taking place in the kitchen.
"...can't go on just the boy's word. Just because he says she wasn't in there, doesn't mean we have any real proof. It was not only in a time of emotional distress, but the boy was runnin' through a fully flamin' house. How can we be sure he knows what he saw? Could've found her and is just blocking out the truth," they heard Moody tell them gruffly.
"And even if the Granger girl has been taken, which I'm not saying she is, it would be completely irrational for us to launch a full scale hunt for her. If she is with You-Know-Who, not only is she likely no longer alive, or beyond repair, but we don't have the manpower to undertake an attack on them at this point. We need more time, more resources, more people, for Merlin's sake," a woman Harry couldn't recognize by voice said. "I understand that she's Potter's friend, but honestly, I cannot in my right mind agree to such an unfavorable task." She sighed. "It's upsetting. It really is. That You-Know-Who has no qualms about destroying a family and a young woman only shows me that we have to get back on track. With Dumbledore gone, the Order has to rise to the occasion and really set an example for the rest of the Wizarding world."
"Wouldn't it be more to our advantage if we showed that mercy and sticking together, never leaving a man behind, was what we're about? Rather than leaving her to her death, shouldn't we do something? How will the Wizarding world react when they realize we left her to her death?" Tonks replied, sounding angry.
"We are not leaving her to her death, but understanding that there are just some situations that can't be helped. She's already gone. Dead or captured. There is nothing we can do but set our sights on the future," a man replied in a loud, wheezy voice.
"But what about Harry?" he heard Molly ask aloud, her voice soft and shaky. "He won't... He can't take another loss."
"There is no won't or can't about it. He has to. That's just the way it is. Life and death, they go hand in hand. It's time to buck up and face the facts. We're in a war. There is no mercy or apologies. Now, I'm sorry Granger was the one who suffered; she was bright and powerful, could've made a great ally. But we can't waste our time searching for a dead girl. Potter will see it our way in time," Moody proclaimed gruffly.
"I'm not sure he will," Arthur said, his voice quiet and stiff. "This is Harry we're talking about. He takes every loss to heart. And this one... I mean... His parents, they were lost before he even got the chance to know them. And Sirius, well, he may have been close to Harry, a sort of last chance for Harry to have a normal life, but..." He sighed wearily. "We're talking about Hermione now. The know-it-all girl who got Harry through more than we ever could. She was there watching his back when not one of us could even think to try and help. Hermione, Ron, and Harry, they're a trio. It doesn't work unless they're all together. And... to be honest, I've always thought that... well..." He exhaled heavily. "The boy has feelings for her and I'm not talking about the friendly kind. If you could've seen them at Bill's wedding..." He sighed sadly. "I know that doesn't sound like a valid reason to go looking for her, but I'm warning you now that if we do nothing, he'll find a way to do it himself."
"What are you saying, Arthur? That we can't handle a seventeen year old boy with a fancy?" somebody asked, sounding almost amused.
"He's not jus' any boy," Hagrid replied, sounding insulted. "This is Harry we're talkin' 'bout. When he puts his mind ter it, it gets done. Now if he wants our Hermione back, he'll find her. Yeh better get one thin' sorted out right 'way, Harry isn't the type ter leave a friend behin'. He's the sort that'll climb mountains an' cross oceans. This is Hermione we're talkin' 'bout now, and there ain't nothin' Harry won't do fer her. Yeh ask me, tha's an admirable trait, that is."
"Yes, Hagrid, of course. We don't doubt Harry's devotion to Miss Granger. What we doubt is whether it's misplaced by now," Professor McGonagall explained in her gentle but stern voice. "Miss Granger will always be one of the best students I have ever had and while I have no doubts that she would fight until the bitter end, I can't say I fully believe that she could manage to stay alive and well in the conditions she's likely under." She sighed, sounding tired and resigned. "I'm afraid I can't agree to undertake this journey either. It seems to be a... a..."
"A waste of resources is what it is!" somebody exclaimed.
Harry felt a deep, dark anger well up inside him. He moved to interrupt, to shout his disappointment in them. To tell them all how wrong they were, how she wasn't a waste of resources, but the best reason for a recovery mission. Not only was she his best friend, but she was the smartest witch of their age. If not because he needed her, then because the wizarding world would need her. But as he moved to let his anger get the best of him, he felt the twins arms wrap around him and hold him in place. He fought against them for a moment, but stilled as the conversation in the kitchen continued and caught his attention.
"How dare you? That girl is worthy of our attention and the lot of you act as if we've done you some deep harm by calling this to your attention," Molly half-shouted, sounding both angry and sad. "You're all focusing on the fact that we could get killed by going after her; that she may already be dead; but you're not listening when we tell you that if you do nothing, Harry will."
"Potter is only seventeen years old! He doesn't have the ability or experience to take this on himself. He'll realize that as soon as he decides he's going to try anything. We have no idea where she is, no idea what will get in our way if we try and save her!" a man shouted furiously. "We cannot risk the lives of the only group able and willing to defeat You-Know-Who because Potter wants his bloody girlfriend back!" He sighed, sounding exasperated. "Let's just put this matter to rest already! We all know that we can't go after her. Dead or not, she's a lost cause. We have more important issues to worry about!"
"I don't think--"
"He's right," somebody interrupted.
"But what about Harry?"
"He'll have to understand..."
"He'll get over it."
"What are we suppose to tell him?"
"He'll try and solve it on his own if we don't at least let him think we're doing something."
"Are you suggesting that we lie and say we're looking for her?" Molly asked, appalled.
"We can't let him think there's hope," Arthur put in, his tone sad and defeated. "I won't tell him we're going to do something and let him sit here in wait for her return. It's cruel and he doesn't deserve it."
"It's our only choice. We either let him try and take this on himself and try and track him down before he does something foolhardy or we put a stop to it before it happens," somebody shot back.
"I won't do it," Molly said vehemently. "I understand that there are some things that he's simply too young to know about. But letting him believe that his best friend will be returned to him is just too much. I will not be part of this. If you want to tell him not to worry; that we're looking for her and we're doing everything, you go right ahead. But if he asks me what you're doing, don't expect me to lie for you. That girl is like a daughter to me, and I have considered Harry like a son for too many years to let it all be flushed away because you lot are so bloody distracted with thinking that his feelings don't matter. He's gone through hell and high water for the rest of us and the one time he needs our help, we don't hesitate to just lie and cover it up. Well I won't have it," she shrieked, and a moment later her footsteps could be heard harshly exiting the kitchen, the door leading outside slapping behind her.
"Arthur, perhaps now would be a time to go after your wife and explain--"
"I agree with her entirely," the Weasley patriarch interrupted firmly. "The Order is being entirely too self serving in this matter. I understand that Hermione could very well be gone, but that doesn't mean that I'll go out there and lie to that boy. If you think you can lie straight to his face about a girl who has been by his side, fighting and surviving since they were eleven, then you go ahead, but expect no justification on it by this family." Harry could hear Arthur's chair legs scrape as he too got up to leave the room.
"Well..." There was a long pause, one wrought with anticipation. "All in favor of going after the Granger girl?" There was a moment where soft sighs and tutting could be heard. "Any undecided?" Harry felt his back tighten and his shoulders straighten, his eyes staring unseeing at the wall before him as he strained to listen to every noise the Extendable Ear passed on to them. A man's deep sigh could be heard before he said, "Then it's done. Merlin rest her soul."
Harry cursed before standing up quickly and making his way back to Ron's room, his feet pounding loudly on the floor as he stomped. His jaw tightened painfully, but he ignored it. As soon as he made his way in, he went to his trunk. The lock came undone and the top popped up savagely, banging against the back without Harry having to utter a word or wave his wand. Clothes exploded out, including a gym bag. Immediately dark shirts and pants; those that could keep his appearance well hidden found their way into the bag. A comb, toothbrush and toothpaste, shaver, pair of sneakers, and a sack that held both Muggle and Wizarding money landed in the bag with a plop. Grabbing up a black hoodie, he slipped it on and pulled up the sleeves to his elbows in frustration. Turning, he threw open Hermione's trunk and searched through it quickly, hands finding exactly what he was looking for. Yanking out his findings, he performed a shrinking charm and put them inside his bag.
Harry heard the footsteps hesitantly follow him in and grumbling under his breath he turned angry eyes on the twins and Ron, all of which sported dark expressions.
"What now?" Ron asked, his arms crossed and his brow furrowed with question.
"I find her," Harry replied gruffly, his mind already mixing up a plan that Hermione would call insane and suicidal. He didn't care though. He was going to find her; whatever it took.
"We find her," his best mate replied heavily, taking a step forward, his stance taking on a defensive position.
Harry shook his head, pulling the bag up over his shoulder as it zipped on its own.
"All of us," the twins added in, stepping forward, their expressions set and dark.
Harry looked at the three boys and then nodded. He mind adjusted the plan, knowing it would need them all, though they wouldn't be doing all that he was. "Come on. Best get out of here before they come looking for us."
Nodding, the twins motioned to their rooms and were quickly going to pack their bags. Ron too moved to his trunk, throwing it open and searching through it avidly. He pulled a bag out much like Harry's and packed it with much less thought, simply grabbing whatever he could and sticking it in without much preamble. "You gotta plan?"
"Depending on whether she's at Godric's Hollow, yes," Harry replied curtly, his body still tight with anger.
A few minutes later, the four of them were sneaking down the stairs, avoiding Order members and family as they went. There was a moment where their bodies were straight and paused as a statue when Ginny walked out of the living room, tear stains marring her cheeks. She stared at them, her brow furrowed as her eyes fell down to the bags. Harry stared back at her, his expression hard and asking for understanding. She stared back, wiping at her face as a few stray tears escaped, and then nodded. "Bring her back," she whispered brokenly before turning and walking back into the living room. Harry nodded before turning back to the twins and following them out the front door. Crouched low in the dark expanse surrounding the Burrow, they all ran toward the apparition borders. Each twin took hold of either Ron or Harry, having no idea where Godric's Hollow was. With one last look at the Burrow, they disappeared from sight, a pop resounding.
To be continued...
