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Harry Potter: The Artisan's Path Chapter 70
🕑 Added 2024-05-09 11:14:28 +0000 UTCHi all,
Here’s the third chapter of the week. The next Artisan Chapter should be out sometime on Saturday (NZST).
Chapter 70
After his encounter with Nearly Headless Nick, Harry was tempted to leave the deathday party immediately. Given his proclivity for getting into dangerous situations, he wasn’t going to dismiss the ghost's warning so easily, even if he didn’t provide any specifics.
He looked over at his girlfriends, who were talking with an elderly woman with a hatchet sticking out of her head. They appeared to be paying close attention to what she was saying. He decided he could put up with the party for a while longer and moved to the side of the ballroom, leaning against the wall.
A ghost approached him. It was a man with a dagger pierced through his chest, and his clothing suggested he had died at least a few centuries ago.
"Greetings, young sir," the ghost said to him. “My name is Erling the Great. I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with Nicholas.”
“What makes you so great?” Harry asked.
"Ah, some of my ghostly companions gave me that nickname," Erling said. "You see, I’m a bard. I consider myself a great narrator, and I have plenty of stories to share. But usually my audience is not alive, so talking to you is a rare treat."
Harry nodded. "Well, I am glad I could accommodate you. Do you know what Nearly Headless Nick was trying to say with his cryptic warning?
Erling grimaced. “I’m afraid that Nicholas has a good reason for feeling that you may be in danger, even if he can’t pinpoint a specific cause.”
“What do you mean?”
“There have been only three occasions where someone among the living has attended a deathday party,” Erling replied. “And on all three occasions, the individuals died the same evening after leaving the party.”
Harry’s eyes widened. “That sounds ominous. How did they die?”
Erling turned his head to scan the room with a frown, as if something had caught his attention. He replied distractedly. “They all died under mysterious circumstances. The Aurors investigated their deaths, but they were all determined to be accidental. The last two incidents happened recently, in the seventies and the eighties.”
“Why were they stupid enough to attend in the first place?” Harry asked.
Erling turned to smile at him. "Based on your tone, you are already regretting attending the party."
Before he could respond, Harry heard an awful sound and covered his ears. The ghost band began playing their ghostly instruments, which sounded like several cats being tortured.
Harry winced. “You could say that.”
Erling leaned in closer to Harry and whispered. “I happened to be here on the two occasions the boys attended the party, and they were here for the same reason. They were siblings, attending Hogwarts a decade apart, and both were looking for the Cursed Vaults.”
“That doesn’t sound like something that should be found.”
Erling nodded. “The Cursed Vaults are supposedly five legendary hidden rooms that have curses placed on them, protecting the treasure inside. It’s said that they were created by the founders, but that is a common misconception. The rumours surrounding the existence of the vaults didn’t start until more than a century after the founders passed.”
Harry could believe that. He was certain to have read about the vaults in one of the founders' journals if they had any involvement in their creation. Plus, he was sure Lady Hogwarts would have said something. Unless she didn’t want him to go look for them.
“How do you know so much?”
“I was born in the early eleventh century,” Erling said. “I didn’t attend Hogwarts myself, but I have visited the school frequently over the centuries, ever since I passed away in my thirties. Not to brag, but I know more about history than most ghosts.”
“Sounds like you should be teaching History of Magic instead of Professor Binns,” Harry commented.
Erling smirked.
Harry was surprised that a ghost could remain in this world for such a long time. If the man was born in the early eleventh century, then he had been around for almost a millennium. However, he shouldn’t be too surprised, considering Salazer Slytherin’s situation.
“So, there are some Cursed Vaults hidden somewhere in the castle?” Harry asked. He found that hard to believe, considering how much of the castle he had explored during his first year. Even if he didn’t stumble across them, surely, he would have discovered some clues about their existence.
Erling shook his head. “They are rumoured to be on the Hogwarts grounds, not in the castle itself. The students who attended the deathday party had the same misconception. They questioned me extensively on the subject, but alas, their quest to find the vaults was cut short. ”
Harry nodded. The vaults being on the grounds sounded more plausible.
A thought struck him. Could the man help him with his current search for information about Galahad? “Did you know anything about Lancelot and his apprentice, Galahad? I know they were supposed to be around during the founder’s time.”
“How do you know about them?” Erling questioned. “Those are two names that are buried in mystery. They were associated with a group of wizards who equally had mysterious origins.
They were known as the Knights of the Round, and they supposedly served King Arthur.”
Harry knew that wasn’t true, as the founders had worked hard to fabricate their history, although he didn’t know the reason for it. He knew that Arthur was a professor at Hogwarts at the time, that he was Merlin’s subordinate, and that he betrayed Slytherin’s apprentice. He didn’t know anything about the other members of the order, besides Lancelot. He assumed the order worked for Merlin, but at some point, Lancelot may have turned against him, considering he helped the founders imprison him.
“There were a lot of inconsistencies surrounding the order and Arthur in particular,” Erlen continued. “I know that during the time Hogwarts was founded, Ethelred the Unready was the King of Britain. How was it that there could be two kings at the same time? It was as if something had happened that changed the history of events during that period, and it happened very quickly.
"To this day, the magical community believes Arthur and his order were Muggles, and Merlin served as the king's advisor. If I hadn’t been around for so long, then I might have believed the same. However, few people want to hear an old ghost's ramblings.”
“Well, wizards are mistaken about a lot of things.”
Erlen was about to reply when he frowned. He turned to survey the ballroom again.
Harry felt his instincts come to life, warning him of an impending threat.
“Harry!” The girls came running over to him, looking alarmed. Blaise followed close behind them.
He stood straighter when he realised what was causing their distress. Several ghosts were converging in the centre of the ballroom, but it didn’t appear to be voluntary. Instead, it appeared that an unseen force was pulling them towards the centre. Every ghost in the ballroom who wasn’t caught in its grip was fleeing, phasing through the wall.
“What the hell?” Harry gasped.
The ghosts in the centre were rapidly merging into one another, losing their distinct forms. In their place was a mass of darkness, writhing violently as it underwent an unknown transformation.
“This is not good,” Erlen exclaimed. “This is a spirit subjugation! You need to leave now!”
“What does that mean?” Daphne demanded.
"It is a rare phenomenon where ghosts merge into one and become something completely different," Erlen explained. "It's how Dementors are created. Get out of here now!’
After issuing the final warning, he vanished into the wall.
“Let’s go!” Harry said, and they ran for the door.
He grabbed the handle and pulled, but the door was locked. He pulled harder, but it had little effect. At some point, someone had locked the door, trapping them inside.
“Screw it.” Harry backed up and pulled out his wand. “Stand back.”
Blaise and his girlfriends followed his instructions. He cast a blasting curse at the door, which exploded, sending splinters of wood flying everywhere and tearing a massive hole through it.
“Harry!" Gabrielle warned.
Harry felt a dark cloud descend on his mind, erasing all of his joy and happiness and leaving him only with despair. Recognising the threat, he immediately activated his occlumency shields, and the feeling of despair vanished. Turning his head, he noticed a hooded figure gliding silently across the floor towards them.
Harry quickly summoned some fireball spell cards and hurled them at the Dementor. The cards hit the Dementor and exploded, causing the air to burst into flames. Harry heard the Dementor release a terrible scream before fleeing from the fire.
“No!” Balise cried, holding his head as he sank to the ground. He began rocking back and forth, his eyes vacant, as if his mind were somewhere else.
The girls fared much better. Both Daphne and Susan had employed their occlumency shields to resist the Dementors' effects. Gabrielle, due to her Veela heritage, had some strong natural shields that protected her, and so she wasn’t affected by the Dementor.
“Snap out of it,” Daphne growled, pulling out her wand and casting a stinging hex at him. It didn’t snap him out of his trance, so she sent several more at him, this time aiming for a more vulnerable spot.
“Daphne!” Blaise glared at the girl while holding his crotch. “Are you trying to ensure I don't have children in the future?”
Daphne shrugged. “I managed to snap you out of it, didn’t I?”
“Go,” Harry urged, pushing Susan towards the door, seeing the Dementor recover and turn back in their direction. She quickly clambered through the opening, and Gabrielle followed her.
Harry sent more fireballs at the dementor, giving his friends time to escape out of the ballroom Once Blaise had made it through, Harry quickly scrambled through the hole.
Susan pointed the wand at the door as soon as Harry was clear.
“What are you doing?” Harry yelled. “Run!”
“Dementors can’t phase through objects like ghosts can,” Susan said. “Reparo!”
All of the pieces of wood flew back to the door, which miraculously repaired itself, leaving no trace that it had ever been damaged. A moment later, frost formed on the door, and they backed away.
“That’s my girl. Good thinking,” Harry said, causing Susan to smile.
"A more elegant solution than Harry's usual methods," Daphne snarked, regaining her composure.
“Can we get out of here?” Blaise complained. “I can still feel the effects of the Dementor.”
Harry nodded sympathetically. He knew the Dementor would affect Blaise more severely than the others, and he suspected it was related to the Merlin incident. “Let’s get out of here and let the professors know that happened.”
"We will learn how to cast the patronus after this incident," Gabrielle said, shuddering. “Dementors are horrible creatures. The British Ministry is a bunch of cretins for using them to guard their prison.”
They hurried through the corridor and climbed the stairs to the ground floor. The headmaster and a group of professors, including his grandmother, found them before they could reach the Great Hall.
“The ghosts informed us of the situation,” Flitwick said. “Where is the Dementor?”
“We trapped it in the deathday ballroom,” Harry said. “It’s thanks to Susan’s quick thinking.”
Susan flushed as the adult's attention shifted to her. “It was a team effort. Harry brought us some time to escape.”
"Another one of those foul things was created," Minerva exclaimed, her nostrils flaring. "Filius, I told you that we should have banned deathday parties. Especially on Halloween.”
"Well, spirit subjugations are extremely rare," Flitwick defended, before wilting in Minerva's glare. "Well, it’s not too late to learn from my mistakes. We will inform the ghosts that they must be held elsewhere from now on.”
“What are spirit subjugations?” Harry asked curiously.
"This is not the time or place to explain," Minerva said firmly. "What were you doing at the deathday party, anyway? "Why didn't you tell me where you would be?"
“We were invited,” Harry told her. “It’s not like we were expecting something like that to happen. Who knew the party would be so lively?"
Blaise snorted. When Minerva turned to look at him, he quickly fell silent.
Minerva pointed towards the Great Hall. “We will discuss this later. Go and get something to eat while we summon the Aurors to deal with the Dementor.”
The teenagers followed her command and entered the Great Hall. Their friends joined them after noticing how agitated they appeared, and they found a spot at the end of the Gryffindor to discuss what had occurred.
“Spirit subjugation?” Hermione frowned. “I have never heard of that term before. Does anyone really understand how it works? Is it a natural phenomenon? They must have done some research, given what it produces."
“Well, there’s always the library,” Neville suggested. "The new spell you found will make searching for the term much easier."
Hermione brightened. “Good idea, Neville.”
“I don’t know if it’s something that occurs naturally,” Harry said. “The entire thing is suspicious.”
“What do you mean?” Padma asked.
“Someone locked the door to the ballroom,” Harry replied. "Why would they do that if not to trap us inside the ballroom? As far as I know, there was no one else there at the party that was alive.”
He should have checked the marauder's map after the immediate danger had passed to see if there was anyone lurking around, but he did not think about it. In fairness, he was distracted at the time.
“If that is the case,” Blaise said slowly. “Then someone knew that Dementor would appear, which shouldn’t be possible if it’s a natural phenomenon that cannot be predicted.”
"What did your grandmother mean when she mentioned Halloween, Harry?" Daphne asked. "She hinted that it was somehow related to spirit subjugation."
"The Celts believed that Halloween was a time when the boundaries between the living and the dead became blurred," Terry said. “Perhaps it makes it easier for the ghosts to be subjugated?”
"We need to do some research on it before we start theorising," Hermione said, taking out a notebook and pen to jot something down.
"Great, more research," Tracy said, sighing. "I am glad Quidditch is returning on Saturday. At least I have something to look forward to.”
"Harry, can you let the Slytherins win?" Blaise asked. “I don’t want Gryffindor to win the Quidditch Cup again.”
“Blaise!’ Tracy protested. "That sort of proposal is worth breaking up over."
“There’s no chance Harry is going to let them win,” Daphne asserted. "Draco somehow managed to weasel his way into the Seeker position on the team. Harry is going to trounce him.”
"That’s right," Tracy said, nodding. “Catch the snitch or die trying.”
“Tracy, you’re sounding like Oliver,” Harry said. “I already get enough grief from him.”
After dinner, Harry returned to his dormitory to take a shower, still feeling chilly from the deathday party. He paused when he spotted his workshop trunk on the floor, lying open.
“Who managed to get into the trunk?”
Harry was immediately concerned. The trunk had protections on it, so no one but him should be able to get inside without resorting to some drastic measures. He walked over to the trunk and examined it closer. It didn’t look like it had been damaged.
He opened the trunk and lowered himself onto the ladder. When he checked the shelving around the top of the ladder, he noticed something was missing. His invisibility cloak, which had been hanging on a hook beside the ladder, was no longer where he left it.
The hair on the back of his neck stood up, freaked out by the situation. Harry already had some suspicions about the cloak, but this situation heightened those suspicions. Following the previous incident, he had the odd impression that the cloak had vanished on its own. It made a strange sort of sense. There were no protections on the trunk that prevented someone or something from leaving the trunk. There was even a lever that opened the trunk right next to the exit, in case one of his friends got stuck in here when he wasn’t around.
Harry searched his workshop and discovered that nothing was missing as far as he could tell, which only strengthened his belief that no one had broken into his trunk. He left the trunk and searched the dormitory for the cloak, but it was nowhere to be found.
“Just what I need,” Harry muttered. “Where could it have gone?”
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Gilderoy was returning to his quarters, reflecting on the night's events. He was disappointed that Harry Potter hadn’t been hurt, or even kissed by the Dementor. He wasn’t to blame for the incident, but it would have been a fortunate occurrence that he could have claimed credit for. He assumed the incident was an accident, as the other professors claimed.
When he heard a sound, he paused. He turned his head and stared at the tapestry, certain that was where the sound had come from. He pulled out his wand, and approached it cautiously. He reached out and tore open the tapestry.
A student sat crying on the ground in the alcove behind the tapestry. His hair and clothes were messy, and he was holding a book to his chest.
“What’s this about?” Gilderoy asked. “Did something happen?”
The boy's crying stopped immediately, and he looked up, glaring at Gilderoy. “It’s none of your business.”
"There's no need to be like that," Gilderoy said, crouching down. “What’s your name?”
“Draco Malfoy,” the boy stated, his nose turning up in a haughty manner.
“Narcissa’s boy?”
Draco's mouth dropped open with surprise. “You know my mother?”
Gilderoy nodded, concealing a smirk. He had known Narcissa for over a decade, in the carnal sense. She was one of the witches with whom he had an on-and-off affair, which had been a pleasant diversion. It was risky because if Lucius Malfoy had discovered he was sleeping with his wife, it would have been game over for him. However, the risk, as well as the opportunity to sleep with a group of lonely, unsatisfied witches, was part of the appeal. It also provided him with additional benefits and security, allowing him to maintain a prominent position in the magical community. Because he cared about Narcissa, he was willing to go out of his way to assist her son.
“I have known your mother for years,” Gilderoy said, offering a hand to the boy. “She’s an amazing woman.”
Draco accepted his hand and stood up. He grimaced as he realised he had gotten dirty from sitting on the ground. Taking out his wand, Draco performed a cleaning charm on his robes.
"Here," Gilderoy said, offering Draco a mirror to fix his hair. “It’s important to always look your best.”
Draco nodded. He ran his hands through his hair until he was satisfied with its appearance. Gilderoy smiled warmly at the boy. The boy was the same as him; they both cared about their appearance. If he wasn’t so selfish and didn’t like children, he thought Draco would make an excellent son.
“Let me escort you back to your common room,” Gilderoy said.
They started walking down the corridor, but Draco remained silent.
Gilderoy searched for a topic to get the boy to talk. "I heard you made it onto the Slytherin Quidditch team. Congratulations.”
Draco smirked. “Of course. I’m a great flyer.”
“Your first game is this weekend,” Gilderoy said. “You're up against Gryffindor. Are you nervous?”
"Of course not," Draco stated vehemently. "Potter is nothing more than a glory hound who used his fame to gain a spot on the Gryffindor team. He doesn’t have any talent for flying a broomstick.”
Gilderoy thought that scenario was more applicable to Draco than Harry Potter, but he said nothing. He noticed Draco's hostility towards Harry, which gave him an idea. He needed to get closer to the boy, as he might just be the perfect tool for his mission.
“Then it’s up to you to prove who the superior flyer is,” Gilderoy said. “Make him look inferior in front of the entire school.”
Draco’s eyes gleamed. “That goes without saying.”
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
1st November
The next morning, Harry was sitting at the Gryffindor table, eating breakfast. He was feeling a little sleep deprived after worrying endlessly about the missing cloak. His friends noticed the circles under his eyes and asked if anything was wrong, but he told them it was nothing. How was he supposed to tell them that he suspected that his invisibility cloak was sentient, and had vanished from his trunk? He was still debating whether he should tell his grandparents, since it was a family heirloom.
He pulled out his two-way mirror after feeling it vibrate in his pocket.
Remus' face appeared in the mirror. “Hi, Harry. I heard you had some excitement last night.”
Harry scowled. “Is it already making the rounds?”
“Are you alright? It looks like you didn’t get any sleep.”
“I’m fine. I wasn’t in that much danger," Harry said before pausing. "Compared to some of my other adventures."
Remus snorted. "I believe your threat assessment is skewed. A Dementor is dangerous.”
Harry rolled his eyes. "My point is that no one was injured, and that should be the only factor considered when determining what is dangerous."
Harry winced when Daphne smacked his shoulder, and she leaned closer to him so she could speak to Remus. “Don’t listen to anything he says. He’s an idiot.”
Remus smiled. “Hello, Daphne. Since he is an idiot, I will ask you the important questions. Did the Aurors find anything wrong with the incident?"
"No," Daphne answered. "The Aurors investigated the incident but found no evidence of foul play. They discovered the ballroom doors locked on their own when they were shut."
“Still doesn’t explain why the doors were closed,” Harry muttered. “They were open when we arrived.”
“Is Sheena keeping an eye out for you?” Remus asked.
Harry nodded. "She came into the common room last night and asked me about the incident."
“She has been suspicious ever since the greenhouse incident,” Daphne added. “But she hasn’t been able to prove any wrongdoing.”
Remus looked concerned. “Well, stay alert. We know there are individuals out to get you, and Hogwarts has proven not to be the safest place.”
“My friends and I want to learn the patronus charm,” Harry said. “Do you know how to cast it?”
“Yes. I can show it to you this weekend when I come to watch your Quidditch game. But it’s extremely advanced magic, so do not expect to be able to cast it right away."
Harry grinned. It sounded like a challenge. “That would be awesome.”
"I called for another reason," Remus explained. "Can we speak somewhere else that is private?"
“Hang on,” Harry said, standing up. He left the Great Hall and found a quiet spot. "What would you like to discuss?"
“It’s about the production of the Allure Suppressant Necklaces,” Remus told him. "Your grandfather told me that Obsidian was targeting the workshop, so I double-checked the wards to ensure they were secure."
Harry had given Caterina Zabini’s letter to his grandfather, who said he would look into it. Part of the information in the letter revealed that Obsidian was searching for the property in France that housed his second workshop, where the necklaces were being made. Although his grandfather had taken precautions to hide the property, that didn’t mean it was completely secure. Harry was worried that Obsidian would find the property and hurt his employees, or worse. He didn’t want anything to happen to them.
“What if Obsidian does find the property?” Harry asked. “How long would it take for them to break down the wards?”
“I will be alerted as soon as the wards are attacked,” Remus assured him. “I can summon the authorities to apprehend the attackers before they can get inside the property.”
Harry still wasn’t convinced. “Have you prepared an escape route just in case? What about an underground tunnel? I don’t care if anything happens to the house, but the Veela need a way to escape the property.”
Remus gave the suggestion some thought, although it was obvious he thought Harry was being overly cautious. “I don’t see any problem with adding a tunnel. It will take some work, but it shouldn’t cost anything.”
“Thank you.”
Remus checked his watch. “I need to get going. Before I go, have your grandparents mentioned anything about suspicious individuals at Hogwarts?”
Harry’s eyes narrowed. “No. Is there something they are hiding from me?”
“No, but I know your grandmother is looking into it. I’m sure if she suspects anyone, she won't hide it from you. Like I said, you should keep an eye out.”
Remus said goodbye and hung up. Harry put the mirror away and returned to the Great Hall.
He noticed that the owls had arrived with the mail, and Gabrielle had a newspaper in front of her. She was discussing something with their friends, and they all looked excited.
“What’s got her so excited?” Harry asked.
“Harry!’ Gabrielle exclaimed, turning to him. She shoved the newspaper into his hands. “The election results have come out. My father is the new Minister of Magic.”
“Congratulations,” Harry said, smiling. “I knew he was going to win.”
Gabrielle pouted. “I wasn’t so sure.”
Harry looked at the front page. There was a picture of her father being sworn in as Minister, shaking hands with an ICW representative. Although the elections were held in September, it took more than a month for the results to be counted and declared official. The ICW was responsible for counting them, and the process was notoriously slow. They needed to ensure that the votes weren’t tampered with, which made it difficult to determine when magic was involved.
He read the article and understood most of it. His French had improved significantly since he began learning it. He still needed to expand his vocabulary and work on his accent, but he could read and converse effectively. Gabrielle appreciated his efforts, and he certainly enjoyed the rewards she gave him.
The article wasn’t very accurate or factual, as the reporter was clearly biassed in favour of the opposition and didn’t hesitate to make some disparaging remarks about Pierre. Harry thought the reporter's comments about his family went too far. There was even mention of him with an accusation that Pierre only won because of Gabrielle's association with the Boy-Who-Lived.
He threw the paper on the table, already tired of reading the drivel. Hopefully, Pierre would figure out how to crucify the moron.
“Why did your parents send you this article in particular?” Harry asked.
Gabrielle wrinkled her nose. “My papa is probably using it to teach me a life lesson. He does that a lot.”
“What sort of lesson?” Neville snorted. “Know thy enemy?”
Gabrielle grinned. “It makes it easier to eliminate them when you know who your enemies are.”
“So, what does this mean for you going forward?” Harry asked.
"For the time being, nothing," Gabrielle replied. “I still have to attend school. But outside of that, I am sure there will be security around me all the time. It sounds bothersome.”
"Not to mention the sycophants who will be sucking up to you," Daphne said. “You're going to have to learn how to be diplomatic or you might cause your father trouble.”
Harry laughed when Gabrielle’s expression fell.
“Don’t laugh,” Daphne said, pointing her fork at him. “You will be judged similarly based on your relationship with Gabrielle."
Harry made a face, and it was Gabrielle's turn to laugh at him.
"Wait a moment," Harry said as he realised something. "Technically, Daphne, you could also be considered closely associated with Gabrielle. Some may even believe that you have a special relationship with Gabrielle.”
"Do you mean they will think she is my girlfriend?" Daphne asked. "You would like that, wouldn’t you? If we were to make out?”
Harry coughed. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Charlus emerged from the floo into the parlour. He exited and made his way down the hallway to the meeting room, where the others were already waiting for him. He sat down at the head of the table, showing that he was the one in charge of the meeting.
“Welcome, my friends,” Charlus said, looking around the table. All those present were people he could trust, and that wasn’t something he said lightly. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. I know you are curious as to why I have summoned you here.”
Croaker chuckled. “I think I have an idea why we are here, but let’s hear your sales pitch.”
“Obsidian is posing a threat to my grandson," Charlus said. “They aren’t the only threats to him, but they are the ones we will be discussing today. Beyond that, the organisation is a blight on our respective countries and the rest of Europe. I don’t want to stand passively by letting them do as they please. My goal in coming here today is to ask you to join me in creating a group to oppose them. We will eliminate Obsidian and any other individual or group that poses a threat to our way of life.”
Seraphine leaned forward. “I didn’t expect this, Charlus. What will this group be called?”
Charlus smiled grimly. “I’m open to suggestions, but I already have a name that I feel is appropriate. The Order of the Demiguise. An invisible entity that no one will see coming. Without regard for morality or the law, we will use any means necessary to defeat our adversaries. They don’t play fair, so why shouldn't we do the same?”
There was a heavy silence, and everyone shared glances with each other.
“So, what is your answer?” Charlus asked.
So, what do you think? Charlus is not going to take Obsidian lying down and is going to cause them a lot of headaches in the future.
Thanks for reading.
