[identity profile] brighty18.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] small_gifts
Title: Secret Garden
Author: [livejournal.com profile] brighty18
Recipient: [livejournal.com profile] rosivan
Rating: PG-13
Highlight for Warnings: * swearing, over-use of adjectives, frogs, and references to hippogriff feces*
Word Count: About 2,600
Summary: Sirius cultivates many things.
Author's notes: [livejournal.com profile] rosivan, you are made of awesome and ran an awesome fest, as well. You said wanted the two of them in a garden as well as a bunch of lovely images of Grimmauld Place, and I hope that I did it justice.



Despite the patriarchic system of the Wizarding world, Grimmauld Place always felt like his mother’s house. His father had owned it in title (and both his parents in blood), but in spirit it belonged to Walburga. Her presence inhabited every corner of every room, seeping through the crumbling, silk-papered walls to taunt him. Her portrait hung in the entryway (or Hall of Portraits, as she’d pretentiously loved to call it.) Her bedroom wardrobe still reeked of her scent, and her devious little curses (biting snuffboxes, the gravy boat that nearly swallowed Remus’ hand, the fifth stair from the top that repeatedly called Sirius a “Blood Traitor Sodomite,” just to name a few) still lurked in dark spaces. She was difficult to banish.

At one point the house had been a war zone, a constant push and pull of magic between Sirius and his mother. Forbidden to decorate his room as he pleased, he used Permanent Sticking Charms to cover the walls in a flurry of Gryffindor banners and posters of Muggle motorcycles, including his personal favorite - used only to drive her to apoplexy - the one with the half-naked Muggle birds. In retaliation, she Charmed his widow shut, refusing him fresh air. He enchanted the doorknocker to sing “Ding, Dong the Witch is Dead,” a prank only he, with his knowledge of Muggle culture, could truly appreciate. She commanded the mounted heads of long-dead house-elves to call him nasty names as he walked past.

And so it went until Sirius left home - and Merlin only knew what happened after that.

But when Sirius returned to Grimmauld Place he made a surprising discovery: the rooms that retained her presence most strongly were the ones that drew him. To relieve the odor in her bedroom, he placed Buckbeak there, the hippogriff’s warm and comforting presence banishing the cold, harsh aftermath of Walburga Black. Once, he and Remus had made passionate love beneath her portrait just to watch her face contort into a visage of rage and confusion at the sight of her once-precious heir being “taken by a Dark Creature.” Sirius had laughed savagely at her anguish, taunting her with his pleasure before he came. Remus initially had his doubts, but eventually went along with the plan and, in the end (so to speak), Sirius knew he enjoyed it. They often played such games when no one else was about.

Strangely, however, it was her secret rooms to which he gravitated. Telling no one – not even Remus, for a reason he could not initially fathom – Sirius would slip into the Secret Suite behind her wardrobe and spend hours wandering amongst the ruins of her life. If Remus was out, virtually no one noticed his absence, nor did anyone question the long hours spent with Buckbeak. Frankly, many joined Molly in calling it a “fit of the sullens.”

But Sirius was far from sullen. He was fascinated, he was motivated, and he was trying to transform her world.

The Secret Suite had been built for previous Black women - ostensibly to hide from their overly amorous husbands, but Walburga and Orion had no such problems. Instead, Walburga used it as a sanctuary to escape the clamorous drudgery of her two small sons and to recover after her frequent “fits.” Yet sometimes, blackouts or no blackouts, she just wanted to be alone. Unfortunately, young Sirius and Regulus were not about to let that happen. Once they’d discovered her little secret they were bound and determined to invade her space and plunder what she’d hid there. Sirius, of course, found the entrance first. Simply by trailing his mother around the house and hiding under the bed whilst she murmured her Entrance Spells, he discovered the way in to her secret lair.

Not that most of it was very interesting to small boys. Sneaking in whilst their mother was out for tea, Sirius and Regulus had found a suite of five, interconnecting rooms: bedroom, bathroom, solarium, study, and a small sitting area with a teacart and table. The bedroom, study, and sitting room were predictably boring, yet surprisingly girlish. That which was not violet-upholstered was silver-plated and the entire place glowed with reflected sunlight. The bathroom was slightly more fascinating to a child, but the rose marble tub was not nearly as big as the pool downstairs where they took their nightly baths. And then there was the solarium.

Oh, the solarium was a wonder.

More like a garden, really, it was flooded with sunlight from the enchanted ceiling and overflowing with a stupendous array of plants both Magical and Mundane. At night, stars drifted overhead and, if one were so inclined to make it do so, a soft rain could fall. No matter what the time of year, the room was warm and humid, and the soft blanket of grass beneath their feet thick and lush. It was Walburga’s sanctuary, a place to practice her clandestine botanical hobbies and relish in the relative quiet of an ever-summery garden. It was a paradise and soon became Sirius’ favorite room in the house.

Upon returning to his childhood home, the solarium was one of the first places he visited.

Alone.

Sirius found the room overgrown with foliage, as if after his mother’s death, the magic had gone feral. Wisteria had conquered the walls, its fragrant purple blooms hanging heavy in the humid air. Pink roses blossomed in reckless abundance, shining like beacons amongst the dark, purple stalks of Delphiniums and Queen of the Night tulips. Cherry, pear, and apple trees bloomed and fruited at once, as the magic grew wild in a riotous mix of seasons.

He paused and took off his shoes, savoring the feeling of soft grass beneath feet that had too long known only pavement and carpet. With some trepidation, he poked further into the suite, only to find that, there, too, nature had taken its course.

In the study, ivy climbed the walls, peeling back the violet-flowered wallpaper to reveal pale plaster. The grass grew here, too, spreading like a thick carpet into the bedroom and sitting room. Mignonette and cornflowers spread themselves across the sitting room table, giving way to a sea of more common wildflowers, some of which Sirius happily recognized as useful. Aconite. Coltsfoot. Wild ginger. Plants he knew to be practical as well as lovely – especially when one was in love with a werewolf.

But there was more to explore on that first day back, and with some trepidation he headed into the slime-streaked bathroom. Long drapes of Spanish moss hung from the fixtures of the bathroom, and the tub had transformed into a pool brimming with lotus and small, green frogs. Sirius caught a glimpse of his reflection in the tarnished mirror. Though still drawn and gaunt and far too thin, he sensed something deeper, brighter. There was a change afoot, a new chance, a breath of fresh air. And Sirius smiled showing slightly yellowed teeth.

The bedroom proved to be another mass of vines: moonflowers, Aubretias, and more ivy and wisteria, shielding the ceiling and walls with a mass of color. The bed, once covered with a heavy, damask spread, was now but a mound of jade-green grass and Sweet William. Brightness filtered in, green and violet and rose glowing from the long-neglected windows, bathing the room in an eerie, chapel-like light. Elsewhere in the house, the dark, stoic dining room or dreary bedrooms, Sirius often felt anxious - but here he was inspired.

Telling no one, he devoted himself to restoring the garden – though the other rooms would remain intact – to a workable splendor. It became his secret project, for he knew instinctively that the others would never understand. Moody would insist on tearing the place apart in search of Dark Magic, and Molly would inevitably suggest he use it to grow food. Sirius had nothing against the growing of food, per se, but this was different. Like his mother before him, he wanted to create something secret and decadent - but with an entirely different outcome. It became his world, his secret, and to show it others would be to sully the sanctity of the place. Eventually, however, he would bring Remus here, but not until it was finished.

Sirius worked tirelessly, planting, clearing out weeds, and carefully moving unwanted plants to more suitable locations. With the exception of the Multiflora Rose (the Muggle version of Devil’s Snare, in his humble opinion), everything was saved, preserving the true essence of the lurid, fragile world of the Secret Suite. In the bathroom he cultivated a water garden where fragrant, night-blooming lotus floated in a marble pool bathed in moonlight. Reeds grew tall in the basin of the sink, and iridescent dragonflies darted to and fro. He moved the table from the sitting room into the solarium to create the ultimate alfresco dining experience, and hoped to serve dinner there soon. The bed-mound in the bedroom was freshly carpeted with soft grass, all the harsh-thorned plants banished to distant regions of the suite. (In Remus’ absence, sometimes he slept there, contentedly snoring beneath a canopy of lilacs.) He enchanted the ceiling to extend to every room, flooding the wonders of light and water into every darkened corner.

But his most innovative creation was the study and sitting area, where grew an abundance of wildflowers and potions ingredients, most of which were intended for Wolfsbane. Sirius knew he could brew it. He could hardly apply for the Ministry-required license, but such petty regulations had never stopped him before, had they? “Illegal” was practically his middle name, after all! Besides, all he wanted was to make Remus happy. However, in and amongst the more useful plants, he scattered the seeds of pink lupine. Pink lupin, his own little botanical joke about lycanthropic sexuality.

Sometimes he felt Walburga’s presence in the warm, sunny rooms. Initially, he thought it would scare him, yet, strangely it didn’t. Wallburga had been happy here, a little voice in his head told him. She felt safe. Once, as he stood in the rain, arms outstretched and face turned to catch the silvery droplets, he thought about her frequent black outs and inexplicable fits of rage from which she awoke confused and unremembering. He felt a sudden stab of sympathy for her then, for, despite her hatefulness and the occasional Crucio - or perhaps because of them – she was not a well woman. Sane people did not torture their own children, really. The thought of it made him sad.

Finally, after months of labor under sun, stars, and warm, silver rain, the rooms were ready. All he had to do was wait for a night in which the Order (and, most of all, the damned Weasleys) had vacated the house, leaving him alone with Remus. Thankfully, the chance came two days after the next full moon.

“Moony, come with me, I want to show you something.”

Remus looked up from his copy of The Daily Prophet and sighed. Sometimes Sirius feared his lover was only humoring him, being patient merely because he felt he had to. But Remus smiled and stretched his long legs and pried himself out of his comfortable armchair by the fire. “Yes, Pads?” he said quietly.

His voice betrayed no emotion.

Sirius grinned and took his lover’s hand, leading him through the maze of darkened hallways to the back of the house. “Take your shoes off, love,” he commanded, as they reached the corridor leading to Buckbeak’s room.

“Why? So I can step in hippogriff shit?” asked Remus with a chuckle. “There’s no one here to hear us anyway and…”

“Okay, fine,” huffed Sirius, “you can leave them on ‘till we get there, but I want you to feel it between your toes.”

Remus looked mildly horrified. “The shit?”

Sirius just shook his head and pointed at his on bare feet. Grudgingly, Remus removed his shoes and socks before following Sirius down the hall. “See, I cleaned it,” grumbled Sirius as they tiptoed past the sleeping beast. Sirius leaned over and gave him a kiss on the beak. “Sleep well,” he whispered. The hippogriff farted in his sleep.

“Oh, dear… Moving on, then,” said Sirius, waving his wand at the wardrobe.

Remus looked genuinely shocked to see it swing outward to reveal a door.

“This doesn’t involve a lion and a faun and eternal winter, does it?” joked Remus.

Sirius laughed and shook his head. “Come, love, I’ve a nice surprise.” And the pair stepped into Sirius’ indoor paradise.

“Good Merlin,” breathed Remus, taking in the moonlit garden. The scent of wisteria surrounded them, and the brief chirps of songbirds (yet another bit of brilliant magic, if Sirius did say so himself) filled the air. “Are we…?”

“No, love,” answered Sirius before Remus could even finish his sentence. “We’re still inside the house. It’s my mother’s Secret Suite and it’s…”

“…magnificent,” finished Remus.

A soft silence fell as Remus absorbed what he saw around him. He padded slowly through the now-cultivated decay of the adjoining rooms, pausing briefly to pet a small frog in the bathtub pond. Feeling wild and free, he batted playfully at the hanging vines in the bedroom and pulled Sirius into a fierce kiss before sprinting back to the main solarium and plunking himself down on a chair.

“Sirius, you really needed this, didn’t you?” he said after a long pause. His voice cracked slightly, echoing with the unspoken words, “more than you need me.”

Sirius nodded slowly. “Yes, Moony, I did need this,” he replied. And it was true. As much as he loved Remus, the house was a prison, and he missed being free to roam the outdoors. His years on the run had, in some respects, been glorious, allowing him to fulfill his childhood fantasy of living rough.

“You always did prefer being outside,” continued Remus. He shuffled his feet, long toes plucking at tufts of grass.

“Only with you.” And it was mostly true. Life with Remus was worth giving-up the sun and the wind and the stars, but he knew that his lover would never require it. He was a wolf, after all, a creature of the forest.

The humidity rose and crept around them, making Sirius glad of their lack of footwear. The air crackled with magic and a faint tinge of something more sinister: worry, fatigue, fear of inadequacy. The very soil reeked of Sirius’ labor and Remus’ trepidation.

“Come,” sang out Sirius, breaking the spell. “There is one more thing.” He enthusiastically yanked Remus out of his chair and pulled him into the study.

“Look!” he cried, pointing to the small Potions garden.

Remus looked. “Erm, wildflowers?” he asked after a minute.

“No, idiot, look at the kind of flowers.”

Remus peered into the starlit darkness, obviously at a loss. “Daisies?” he ventured, indicating the Coltsfoot.

Sirius huffed. “You really are pants at Herbology, aren’t you, love?”

“Hey! I grow things!”

“You grow pot in your closet and once helped your mum harvest tomatoes.”

“Well,” laughed Remus, “that’s something, Mr. Outstanding-on-your-Herbology-N.E.W.T.”

“You got an Excellent.”

“But I still can’t grow anything worth anything.”

“You grow excellent weed.”

“Fair point.”

Finally at ease, Remus pulled Sirius close. “But what is all that?” he asked again. “I mean, what is it for?”

“It’s Aconite,” Sirius whispered in the shell of Remus’ ear. “And Coltsfoot and…

“The makings of Wolfsbane,” interrupted Remus, finally catching on. “You did this… for me?”

“And me,” conceded Sirius truthfully.

But Remus was far past listening or caring. Pulling Sirius by the collar of his robes, he dragged him into the bedroom, pushing him down upon the mound of grass. “I love you,” he hissed, rubbing himself against his lover.

Sirius closed his eyes for a moment and allowed himself to be undressed. He’d fantasized about making love to Remus in his sanctuary, but this was far beyond his expectations. Here he was, having sex in the private domain of his mother, but, unlike the tryst in front of the portrait, this was not fraught with anger and revenge. He opened his eyes and gazed up at the waxing moon sailing across the enchanted ceiling. A breeze stirred the flowers overhead, crickets sang, and the night was filled with silver and green and the phantasmic shine of pink flowers in the nighttime. Above him, Remus moaned in ecstasy as he rocked back and forth - and Sirius gave in to pleasure.

Later, they snuggled down next to each other on the warm grass and slept.

Sirius woke before dawn and looked around and the splendor of his newly created world. Perhaps this was what his mother had been seeking as well: peace and fulfillment, love without losing a sense of self. Escape. Purity. Happiness. It startled him to think that they might have that much in common. But he was the lucky one, for he had no fits and blackouts to bind him down and no foolish rules to bind him. He could be himself. But most of all, he had the beautiful man who slept by his side.

He closed his eyes and smiled.

Date: 2010-01-05 12:44 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dogsunderfoot.livejournal.com
I have no words. This is truly beautiful, healing, and peaceful. This had love growing all through it.
I wish I had a longer review for you, something to point out what I liked best, but honestly, the whole thing made me breathless. I want this kind of serenity. (But without all the work) :)
Adding this to my memories!

Date: 2010-01-05 01:10 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] magnetic-pole.livejournal.com
Ah, I love the idea of hidden rooms at Grimmauld Place, and these rooms especially! This is absolutely, absolutely charming. Enjoyed! M.

Date: 2010-01-05 02:25 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] emilyia.livejournal.com
Oh, Brighty.

Oh.

The details, the richness of this was just... astounding. It is truly beyond words. Beautiful. Stunning. Memmed so fast I don't know what to do with it.

Date: 2010-01-05 03:52 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] secretsolitaire.livejournal.com
This is wonderful -- richly detailed and original and loving. I liked this line a lot:

Sirius found the room overgrown with foliage, as if after his mother’s death, the magic had gone feral.

Very cool concept and I love the way you played it out.

Date: 2010-01-08 02:35 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] secretsolitaire.livejournal.com
Sorry, you probably didn't really care about all that.

LOL, no, it's interesting! :-) It's always kinda cool to hear where plot bunnies come from.

Date: 2010-01-05 08:47 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] grandilloquism.livejournal.com
This is beautiful and enchanting and filled with such true emotion and shining flecks of humour. Sirius feeling closer to his mother, maybe finally starting to understand her instead of just stubbornly hating her. The easy relationship and banter between Remus and Sirius is wonderful, you really get a feel of how well they know each other, how long they've spent in each other's company.

The entire tone of this and the imagery is soft and fluid and just magical. Really well done, this is stunning.

Date: 2010-01-05 09:10 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sirius-luva.livejournal.com
This. Is. SO UTTERLY BEAUTIFUL!

I've been stalking your work for a while, brighty18, and I have to say this is probably the most beautiful thing I've read so far. It's absolutely stunning. Beautiful and serene and... I think the word is serendipitious?

It reminded me a little of The Secret Garden, and it was lovely. Awesome characterisation, and some bits made me giggle out loud ("Ding, dong, the witch is dead", Remus's comment about hippogriff shit, and Buckbeak farting in his sleep when Sirius kisses his beak, among a few, not to mention their tryst in front of the portrait) and some bits, like the mind-blowingly beautiful descriptions, took my breath away.

Oh, I'll never look at pink lupins the same way again! And... my own relationship with my mother isn't exactly smooth. She isn't exactly... well, never mind. But this actually made me wonder about her, wonder what she wants, why she acts the way she does. I might give it a shot.

This is one of the best things I've read. I am in awe of your talent.

Date: 2010-01-05 11:05 am (UTC)
epithalamium: (Default)
From: [personal profile] epithalamium
Oh, I'll never look at pink lupins the same way again!

Hee.

Date: 2010-01-08 11:56 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sirius-luva.livejournal.com
Sounds interesting, I'll keep an eye out for it!

Aww. <3

You do make a very good point, and you've done a fantastic job at giving depth to someone who's probably one of the most hated characters in the fandom. Tried to? Did you ever post it? :D

It was a beautiful story, my dear.

Date: 2010-01-05 11:05 am (UTC)
epithalamium: (Default)
From: [personal profile] epithalamium
You are made of brilliance. I love the gravy boat, the sex in front of Walburga (who certainly screamed more about half-breeds than anything else in OotP), 'Ding Dond the Witch is Dead', Sirius's yellow teeth, and the Narnia reference.

And of course, However, in and amongst the more useful plants, he scattered the seeds of pink lupine. Pink lupin, his own little botanical joke about lycanthropic sexuality. Please look at icon for further reference. XDD

Anyway, I love this, even if I'm total pants in any sort of activity concerning plants. And I like to think that Sirius had this garden instead of being really cooped up in #12.

Date: 2010-01-05 11:28 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] archduck.livejournal.com
Wow. This is such a fantastic idea! And so beautifully written. ♥

Sirius's need to escape into his own world and create something that is just his makes perfect sense. Having things in common with his mother in spite of their radical differences makes this realistic, too. And I like the way he can empathise with Walburga without forgiving her - it's very poignant.

There are so many great moments in this fic, it's impossible to choose a favourite - I love it all! :D

Date: 2010-01-05 10:21 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ceredwensirius.livejournal.com
Really beautiful, I am enchanted by the idea that Sirius had a sanctuary. Thank you for that.

Date: 2010-01-06 02:09 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lady-luthienne.livejournal.com
This is just really fantastic and unique. I love the garden having naturally taken over the other rooms in the suite, especially in the bathroom.

I can't tell you how heartwrenching is Sirius' connection with his mother in this story. At last being able to reach a kind of peace with her memory and who she was, having struggled so long and hard against her, and all the while the hurt child in him must have hated having to hate her. This is just truly lovely.

Date: 2010-01-06 12:53 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] livinglibraries.livejournal.com
I'm glad Sirius could find some sort of peace in the house and perhaps even with the memory of his mother?
Even though my heart wanted to break at some points you pulled it together with a bit of black(?) humour. mwah haha laughing at my own puns now, need to slap myself!

Date: 2010-01-06 02:12 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sirimusea.livejournal.com
I loved the description the the suite. I could just picture it perfectly in my head. I loved how you put in Sirius' mother in this. I loved it :)

Date: 2010-01-06 03:02 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sea-shtick.livejournal.com
Oh, wow. This is just begging to be illustrated. It was so beautiful, in so many different ways. I also found myself fascinated by Walburga here, starting with

(biting snuffboxes, the gravy boat that nearly swallowed Remus’ hand, the fifth stair from the top that repeatedly called Sirius a “Blood Traitor Sodomite,” just to name a few)

and continuing on through the suite of rooms and, of course, the solarium. Such brilliant ideas, and so well executed!

Date: 2010-01-06 05:50 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] kingzgurl.livejournal.com
I'm speechless. This was beautifully written, and the imagery was just astounding. I love Sirius taking over his mother's sanctuary and making it his own, and then sharing it with Remus made it all the more special. *adds to memories*

Date: 2010-01-06 07:08 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dear-tiger.livejournal.com
I really, really loved this. It combines so many of my favorite things: Grimmauld Place, secret rooms, wild plants and farting hippogriffs, to name a few. I love how Sirius got to see a glimpse of his mother's life and discover a different side of her, the one that was actually in peace with itself. Naturally, he can't all of a sudden start loving her, but he did get to see that part of her life and he understood her better. That was so cool! I think his mom is an evil harpy, but the way you wrote it... Well, it's still not okay how she treated her children, but I could see that she was very unhappy and could sympathise with her. And honestly, you deserve major credit for developing this character in a way that Rowling totally failed to :) And it was just 2,500 words, and you didn't even dedicate the whole story to Walburga!

I seriously have so much love for this :)

Date: 2010-01-07 03:16 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jellybgood.livejournal.com
I love the descriptions of the garden taking over the private suite. It sounds so beautiful, like The Secret Garden. And much love for Remus' greenthumb-fail, except for the pot. LOL xD

Date: 2010-01-07 06:32 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] leaf-green.livejournal.com
Just when one thinks that everything has been written a little gem like this makes it way out. Fantastic.

Date: 2010-01-07 07:21 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] gyzym.livejournal.com
Hee, this was fun. I loved the concept, and the dialogue between them felt very real.

Date: 2010-01-07 07:22 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] gyzym.livejournal.com
Also, I felt it would be insane to quote back the entire section about Sirius's skill at Herbology and Remus growing pot in his closet, but that was serious win. That's all, I'm really done now.

Date: 2010-01-10 05:13 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] glass-icarus.livejournal.com
Oh, this is lovely! :) I'm glad that you gave us- this side of Sirius, yes, but a different and kinder side of Walburga as well. &hearts

....ilu, just so you know. T_T

Date: 2010-01-12 09:39 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] calembours.livejournal.com
MICHELLE, AHHH YOU WROTE SOMETHING FOR ME ♥____♥ Thank you so, so much, it has all my favourite things, especially in Grimmauld, and I know I asked for them, but you took it and ran with it, and this was just SO LOVELY.

Love the silk wall paper, and the Oz jokes and the sex in front of the portrait (OMIGOSH). I love love love that you had her garden a secret in this, and that it was hidden away from everything. I was so excited when Sirius was going back to see it again - was it going to be over grown? Desolate and dead? Completely the same as it ever was? Ohhh, but you went with the overgrown wild growth and I think I'm more pleased with that than the other options.

In the study, ivy climbed the walls, peeling back the violet-flowered wallpaper to reveal pale plaster

Gorgeous ♥ I loved all the descriptions of the plants and the flowers - I looked the meanings up, just in case you picked them for that reason~ :3 Hee~

In Remus’ absence, sometimes he slept there, contentedly snoring beneath a canopy of lilacs.

That one was really beautiful and sad. So very perfect.

I love that Sirius was actually growing new plants, and especially that it was for Remus, and for wolfsbane. NARNIA REFERENCES, YAY. God, and Remus being so useless with herbology, and his excellent weed (XDDD) and oh, gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous.

Thank you so very much for writing this for me. I'm really flattered and pleased, and happy you did. T_____T (And thank you for letting me know - I completely fell off the map at the end of the year and I didn't see it post.)

♥ x INFINITY

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