Chapter 12: Of Forgiveness & Felines

Salazar awoke to a splitting headache, no surprise there, he had downed over ten shots of firewhiskey if not more, as far as he could recall. The more confusing matter at hand was the fact that he was propped up against a doorframe sleeping on the cold wooden floor. When he tried to push himself up, pain laced through his leg and he slid back down growling. Moving his leg, his eyes latched onto a certain white-berry littered sprig. Brief images from the evening before flashed fuzzily through his head.

“Oh bugger,” he muttered angrily at the memory of a pair of hazel eyes.

He’d kissed the little bint in his drunken stupor and she’d left him here to rot afterword for some reason he’d yet to recall. The memories washed over him in a wave and his hands twitched in a desire to touch the expanse of smooth skin they had so lovingly caressed. Salazar reveled in the prior sense of euphoria he’d felt having the feisty Gryffindor bred brat in his arms. Never before had it felt so exhilarating to have a woman in his arms. The thought was slightly disturbing and he quickly invented an excuse. There had never been a period where he’d failed to have a woman in his bed, let alone his arms. After centuries, any woman would suffice, he surmised.

Deeming the excuse adequate, he sighed, gripping his head in pain as the after-effects of his drinking spree started to kick in. Not a soul in the complex stirred. Everyone would most likely be sleeping the prior night’s escapades off, so he was on his own when it came to making it up the stairs. He was still at a loss as to what prompted the girl to desert him. It had to have been something he’d said, that much he knew. It seemed any little thing he uttered set her off in a tizzy.

Surprisingly, however, he heard the front door creak open and turned to see the youngest Weasley brat strut in looking very much the picture of satisfaction. Raising an eyebrow, he caught her attention and she froze.

“Well, well, well...”he commented airily.

“What the bloody hell are you doing down here?” Ginny hissed at the man looking around frantically.

“Don’t fret, young one, it would appear everyone is still asleep,” He appraised her before continuing, “from the looks of it you could use some sleep too since it is quite apparent you didn’t get much.”

She blushed furiously.

“I’ll make you a deal, help me up the stairs to my room and this whole interlude will be kept a secret.”

Ginny was quick to agree. Together, the two of them shuffled up the stairs as stealthily as possible. Salazar eyed Hermione’s door on their way down the hall to his own room. Ginny caught him staring.

“So, what’d you do this time to piss her off?”

“Why do you ask?” Salazar questioned.

“Well,” Ginny started while pushing his bedroom door open, “-uh, I happened to be on my way out when one minute I see you two snogging against the door frame, the next she’s stomping up the stairs.”

Salazar grumbled; that was no help at all.

“To be quite honest, I have no idea as to what I did.” He answered honestly as she deposited him onto the edge of his bed.

“Uh huh,” She affirmed, hands on her hips, “I’m sure you’ll find out for yourself soon enough.”

Salazar watched the redhead slip out the door, leaving him alone once more in silence. Shedding his outer layer of clothing, he yawned and slid beneath the sheets with every intention of sleeping off his hangover. Five minutes in, a door creaked open and the sound of hurried footsteps headed his way had him cracking one eye open and groaning. He had hoped to deal with the situation at a later time, it seemed, however, that said situation didn’t want to wait and was headed down the hall towards his room.

He weighed his options; deal with it or pretend to be asleep. The latter of which winning, Salazar rolled over on his side, his back to the doorway.

--oOo--

Having tossed and turned all night, Hermione moaned into her pillow angrily. The creak of the stairs alerted her to the presence of others and she quieted only to hear the whispered mumblings of Ginny and a certain founder of Slytherin. Pushing the niggling questions as so what exactly Ginny was doing up so early, she had always been the last to rise, especially after an evening of festivities. Pushing the thoughts aside, she waited until her friend’s bedroom door shut before sneaking out of her own and heading straight for the current bane of her existence.

Finding the man asleep, however, wasn’t exactly what she had expected. Sighing heavily she was about to turn around and leave when she stopped abruptly. Placing a hand on the door, she eased it shut, and with a wave of her hand, cast a Silencio on the room.

Clearing her throat, she transfigured the nearest thing she could find into a glass of water which she immediately chilled afterword with a quick charm before stomping over and tipping the thing empty right over the man’s face.

It had the desired effect. Salazar promptly shot up growling at her while wiping droplets of water clean from his face.

“What the bloody hell was that for?” He bellowed before he found himself having to duck to avoid the glass being thrown in his direction.

The thing crashed into the wall behind him, shattering.

“THAT,” Hermione snipped back, poking him in his bare chest. “-is for being such an arrogant, self-centered, inconsiderate,”

Salazar’s hand caught Hermione’s wrist in mid-poking-spree and pulled her down onto the mattress where he swiftly silenced her with a kiss. She shoved at him angrily until his hands slipped beneath her shirt and traveled along the expanse of her back to rest between her shoulder blades, kneading and massaging in the most delicious way. Her motions stilled as she mentally damned every cell that composed his body.

Relaxing on top of him, her head nestled in the crook of his neck as his hands gently caressed her skin. Her eyes threatened to close, making her realize how much a toll the lack of sleep had taken on her. Hermione had far too much pride, though, to simply just fall victim to Salazar’s ministrations. Before she could start in on him, he spoke.

“I would like to apologize, for anything I might’ve said or done last night that hurt you. I don’t exactly remember much after our interlude beneath the mistletoe.”

Hermione glanced up at him and sighed. It was so hard to be angry at someone who not only apologized for their actions, but failed to have any recollection of the incident in question, which proved that it had most likely been the whiskey talking and not him.

“Well, to refresh your memory,” she felt herself blush, “-in the middle of our, uh, “interlude”, I kindly requested we stop, but you weren’t too gung-ho about the idea, so when I refused you a second time, you went on about how I was far more frustrating than my worth.

His hands stilled as his own words echoed through the caverns of his mind. Never before had he tried to force himself a second time on a woman and the idea that he’d done so to this child before him caused a nauseating feeling to stir in the pit of his stomach. A child that he had no less, kissed yet again a few seconds prior. Feeling bile rise in his throat he shoved her off of him and grabbed a bedside trash bin.

Hermione sat behind him as he emptied the contents of his stomach and summoned a fresh glass of cold water which Salazar sipped at gingerly while disposing of the trash bin.

His voice was hoarse when he spoke again, “I am truly sorry, Hermione. I could never have been more wrong in saying such a thing.”

Hermione, was it now? Since when had he decided to change it from-“Mudblood?”

She saw the muscles in his back tense at the word, “Merely a harsh nickname for you of sorts, I’ve never genuinely meant it for its original purpose.”

“Why did you kiss me?”

“The fact that you were so blatantly mocking me with the colors of my enemy house in such a tempting manner combined with simply feeling the need to do so, along with the induction of alcohol, that is.” He answered in all honesty, “Oh and there was the matter of the mistletoe.”

Hermione blushed profusely, “Ah, well...glad to know my choice of attire had the somewhat desired effect on the opposite sex, but I was referring to why you kissed me a few minutes ago.”

“Oh,” He glanced at her, laughter in his gaze, “the purpose of a few minutes ago was really only to shut you up.”

She grabbed a pillow and smacked him over the head. When she moved to do it again, he grabbed the offending piece of bedding out of her grasp and hit her back. In a matter of minutes, it had erupted into an all-out fight, sheets flying and pillows soaring through the air until he had her successfully pinned beneath him as he tickled her sides. Laughing madly, Hermione pleaded with him to cease the passive method of torture.

“Truce!” She shouted.

Salazar chuckled, “Very well, but only if you answer one question.”

“What?” She panted out.

“What does “gung-ho” mean?”

Hermione burst out laughing. Salazar moved back; eyebrow arched, and stared down at her giggling form. She looked lovely amidst the backdrop of his bed with her curly hair washing over the white linen sheets, he mused. Catching himself, Salazar looked away, allowing the pain of his hangover headache to distract him momentarily. Seeing him massaging his temples, Hermione frowned. She had indeed, made true on her promise and after leaving Salazar, emptied all the hangover potions down the kitchen sink. She pushed herself up off the mattress and kneeled in front of him, grabbing his hands and gently pulling them away from his face. He eyed her as she placed her fingertips against his temples and pressed lightly.

“Extremely or excessively enthusiastic, to answer your earlier query,” She said.

A quick surge of magic and his headache was gone.

“Thank you, now if you would kindly explain how you did that,” He questioned further.

Hermione shrugged, “A home remedy of mine for all the late night studying.”

Salazar smirked, “You know, Ms. Granger, I must admit, for being such an annoyance, your intelligence is quite the compensation.”

It was then that he noticed how exactly close a proximity she was and emotions from the evening prior were starting to stir.

Hermione rolled her eyes and laughed, her hands sliding down from their place at his temples to cup his face of their own accord.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She replied, placing a chaste kiss on his forehead.

Having no idea as to what had prompted her to do so, Hermione sat back and avoided his gaze. Deciding to thwart the oncoming awkwardness, she slid off of his bed and began picking up sheets and pillows, placing them on the bed. Salazar smiled haphazardly, grateful that she had done so. The feeling of her lips brushing against his forehead so tenderly would not be so easy a memory to be forgotten, though.

“So, I believe there is the matter of my animagus lessons.”

“Indeed, perhaps there wouldn’t be a need for another round, though, if someone had gotten it the first time around.”

“Well, perhaps if someone hadn’t decided to doze off halfway through the lesson.” She retorted.

“I’m injured and weak, a good enough excuse.”

She rolled her eyes and was about to reply with a snide comment when a bellow seemingly shook the house causing her to wince.

“MS. GRANGER!”

It would appear that Snape had happened upon her dirty work in search of some relief from his hangover.

“Perhaps a rescheduling is required?”

Hermione sighed, “Agreed...” and headed out the door to deal with a very peeved Potions professor.

--oOo--

“You insufferable little know-it-all, how dare you tamper with my potions!” Snape spat at her, as Hermione walked into the kitchen to find him retrieving empty potion vials from the sink.

“As punishment, you are to brew up a new batch this INSTANT!” He ordered.

“Severus would you kindly SHUT UP!” Lucius yelled upon entering the kitchen, Draco following close behind, grumbling.

Hermione silently watched Lucius ease into a chair and was once again reminded of how old he really was, despite his appearance. Where was his wife? The thought came at random. Before she could ponder on it further, a throat cleared and Salazar hobbled into the kitchen, sweat beading his forehead. Hermione’s eyes widened.

“You idiot!” She snapped and hurried to get him a chair.

“DAMNIT, GRANGER! EASY ON THE YELLING!” Draco bellowed.

After helping Salazar into a seat, she rounded on Draco.

“Would you kindly shut up, Ferret, no one had you drinking. The same goes for the lot of you! You all deserve what you get.”

They all shushed her simultaneously while gripping their heads. Salazar shot her a glance.

“What?”

“Have mercy, kitten.”

Draco snorted, but a pointed glare was enough to silence him. Sighing resolutely, she healed them one by one, returning to Salazar’s side once her job was done.

Molly bustled into the kitchen at that moment with a yawn which turned into a yelp as the sight of the congregation of Slytherins and Hermione startled her.

“What are you all doing up so early?”

“Being prats.” Hermione answered promptly before feeling someone pinch her backside.

She jumped with a squeak, blushing madly when all eyes diverted to her.

“Hermione dear, what’s wrong? Do you have a fever, you look positively flushed.”

“No-no,” She stammered, “I’m fine.”

Salazar chuckled, his lips forming an arrogant smirk.

“Well, I’ve got a dinner to make, so out with the lot of you.” Molly ordered making shooing motions with her hands.

“Dinner? Molly it isn’t even noon.”

“Yes I’m quite aware of that, Lucius. There’s to be an Order meeting this evening. I take it you’ve forgotten.”

The elder Malfoy’s silence was enough to answer her question before Molly booted them all out of the kitchen.

--oOo--

The Dark Lord paced the length of his room fluidly. Screams echoed from the dungeons, the sound like sweet seductive music to his ears. A knock at his door, he turned swiftly, eyes glowing as red as hot coals. Fire crackled sharply in the hearth as he rasped out permission to enter. Rodolphous Lestrange entered, dragging a dirt-smeared blonder female in after him, throwing her carelessly to the floor where she sobbed, tattered rags hanging off his lithe form. He kneeled in front of the woman, his black cloak draped around him like a dark waterfall. Lifting her chin with his forefinger and thumb, he lifted the woman’s chin, staring down harshly at her tear stained face and gently smoothed back the strands of matted blonde hair.

“My dearest Narcissa, tsk, tsk , tsk.” Voldemort clucked his tongue at the pitiful sight.

“You see, my dear, we have a dilemma. Three of my highest ranked Death Eaters seemed to have disappeared. Two of them happen to be your darling husband,”

Narcissa choked on a sob.

“-and your dear son. Now, any ideas as to where, or better yet, why, those two have gone missing?”

Narcissa’s sobbing increased in volume.

“Hmm, I’ll take that as a no. Such a... PITY!”

A slap resounded.

“They’ve abandoned you, Narcissa, left you here to rot...you owe them nothing. So, if you know of their whereabouts, I advise that you enlighten me and save me the trouble of having to find out by force.”

Pushing herself up shakily off the cobblestoned floor, blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth where the pale skin was already starting to bruise. She stared at him as defiant as ever. Voldemort’s thin lips curled into a sneer.

So it was to be the hard way.

“You impudent whore.” He said with a sadistic smile, “Legilimens!”

She screeched out in vain, clutching her head, tears streaming in rivulets down the sides of her face. He filtered through her memories while she screamed in protest, putting up a feeble attempt to block him out. Memories of her wedding day, Draco’s birth, his first birthday, his first day of school, he witnessed them all through her eyes. Coming to the end, he growled angrily as he extracted himself from her mind with a sharp pull that made her scream louder. She had been telling the truth, she knew nothing of her husband and son’s whereabouts.

Snapping his attention to Rodolphous, Voldemort growled, “And you. Any news from our little spy?”

“Severus, along with Lucius and the boy have taken up refuge with the Order, sire.”

Voldemort grinned, staring back down at Narcissa’s mangled form, and immediately broke out into a sickening laugh.

“Anything else?”

“Well, there is one more thing, sire...”

“Don’t test my patience, spit it out.”

“There is a man within their ranks whom Potter’s mudblood refers to as Salazar.”

“And?”

“According to our source, this Salazar is said to hold a great power, my lord...an old power.”

Voldemort tapped his chin thoughtfully with the tip of his wand.

“Whatever this power is, it must be no threat to me or else the Order would’ve harnessed it long ago. However, continue monitoring this Salazar and report to me should anything deemed of considerable interest arise.”

“Yes, my lord, and what of the wench?” Rodolphous nudged at the Lady Malfoy with the tip of his boot.

“Return this piece of filth to the dungeons.”

After Rodolphous departed with Narcissa, Voldemort stared into the fire, the flames reflecting in his obsidian eyes.

The chessboard had been laid out, the pieces set and he’d made his move, now it was the Order’s turn.

--oOo--

Back in her room, Hermione bounced a squealing Demetrius on her knee while Salazar rested on her bed. It was half past noon and her stomach grumbled, but Molly have barred everyone from setting foot into the kitchen so they had been left to their own devices, which was basically, to starve. Despite her mounting hunger, Hermione played with Demetrius in hopes he would distract her from the current state of awkwardness she found herself in. Eventually, she could stand it no longer.

“Salazar,” She started.

Alarm signals immediately went off in the man’s mind. He knew that tone of voice. He’d been on the receiving end of it many times in the past from multiple women. It was the tone of voice every male dreaded, it meant she wanted to talk and not just idle chatter either. His mind skittered frantically wondering what she could possibly want to discuss. He’d already apologized for his actions, what more could she want? He watched her place Demetrius back in his crib before turning to him, wringing her wrists nervously.

“What am I, to you?”

Well that question certainly caught him off guard. It made him think, however, what was she to him exactly? An intimacy had bloomed between them and he’d naturally fallen into his old womanizing ways. Young, Beautiful, Intelligent, what better of an excuse?

“I mean, you kissed me, and down in the kitchen...I’m just a little confused, so if you wouldn’t mind setting me straight. What are your intentions?”

Hermione averted her gaze, awaiting an answer quietly.

“I...don’t know.” He said simply.

“What do you mean you ‘don’t know’?” She looked at him directly.

“I just, don’t know.” He mumbled again.

“How can you not know?” She demanded.

Salazar sighed, “What do you want me to say? You expect me to be honest, yes? This is me, being honest. I don’t know what you are to me.”

Hermione was silent. He was right, what did she want him to say? That he liked her? She was being foolish.

“Why, kitten? What did you want me to say?” Salazar teased.

She scoffed and turned away. A static field of magic encased her and she was pulled across the room before being plopped into Salazar’s lap where he trapped her in his arms.

“Let me go, you bloody ancient relic!”

The founder laughed throatily, bringing a hand up to sweep her hair away from the curve of her neck.

“I doubt an ancient relic could be capable of doing this,” He said, leaving a trail of kisses along her skin.

“You have no right!” She struggled, feebily.

“Why?” He mumbled against her flesh, “Is it because I haven’t done right by you and proclaimed you mine and I yours? I’m not that kind of man, kitten. But...”

“‘But’ nothing! I am not your new toy, you git! I’m not one of those pathetic little creatures from your past that you had falling at your feet, nor will I ever be.”

He jerked her chin to the side so that she could look him in the eye.

“BUT, I will say, though I cannot name what you are to me, I will admit that in our short time together, you’ve managed to crawl under my skin.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, “What are you trying to say?”

“You know, for being so bright, you can be quite dense.”

“Not my fault you’re so bloody cryptic,”

“I LIKE you, kitten, I enjoy your company, you are the most frustrating female I’ve ever met, yet I find I can’t get enough of you.”

Hermione blinked stupidly, “Oh, is that all?”

“No. You are young, very young, actually, and I am much too old for you, all I ask is that you allow me to indulge myself whilst in your company.”

She had to give him credit for being honest of his intentions. All he wanted was a “no strings attached” relationship, but, like she’d said, she wasn’t that type of woman. She relaxed against him, and patted the arm wrapped around her waist.

“I’m sorry, but if that is to be the case then this relationship must remain purely platonic.” She slid out of his grasp and walked over to calm a fussy Demetrius.

Salazar sighed gruffly; he should have known not to ask as much of her. She was better than that, deserved better than that, but he knew he could not give her what she deserved. So, platonic is would be, and platonic it would remain. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he enjoyed her company and he’d do whatever he could to keep it, even if it meant forgoing his pride and not

pressing the issue of their “relationship”. She was the first person he’d set eyes on in centuries, the one who freed him from the abysmal monotony, albeit unwillingly, he owed her.

“Very well, on to a new subject, am I still supposed to attempt to teach you how to change form?”

Hermione smiled, “I would appreciate it.”

“Alright, hand me the boy and let’s get started.”

“What? Now?”

“No better time than the present,”

--oOo--

An hour later found Demetrius asleep and Hermione looking her same simple human self. The clock was ticking away the minutes. Salazar was growing weary of this particular venture. Perhaps he was approaching this the wrong way.

“Clear your mind, think nothing, whatever images come to mind let them pass; allow whatever senses take hold of you that feel foreign flow freely.”

His master’s words ebbed along the banks of his memory.

“Clear your mind, think nothing, whatever images come to mind let them pass, do not dwell...” He recited.

Hermione looked at him confused, “What?”

“Save your questions, just do as I say,” Salazar instructed sharply.

Eager to comply, Hermione did as she was told. Emptying her head of any and every thought, she blocked out the universe until all she heard was her heart fluttering beneath her breast. Then she felt it, with each beat, a pulse of magic that flowed through her. The scent of wet earth encompassed her, images of trees, the sound of water crashing against stones, reminding herself not to dwell. Something animalistic overtook her and before she knew it, she was falling to the floor screaming.

Salazar cast a Silencio quickly over the room and with another spell, he slammed the door closed, making sure the lock clicked in place. He watched her intently wondering if this is what he’d looked like during the course of his first transformation. Demetrius had awoken from his nap and upon seeing Hermione in distress, burst into tears while Salazar tried his best to calm him. A knock at the door and a jiggle of the handle, someone had heard her scream. Ignoring the persistent banging, he watched and waited, and in what seemed like minutes, but were merely

seconds, the room fell back into silence once more. Oh how he longed to laugh at the glorious sight.

Removing the spells barring the room, he sat still and remained calm as the Potter and Weasley boys barged into the room.

“What’s going on in here!?” Harry demanded.

“Ha-Harry...” Ron stuttered as movement from across the room caught his attention.

“Where’s Hermione? I swear if you’ve hurt her I’ll-”

“HARRY!” Ron nearly shrieked.

“What Ron?” Harry rounded on the redhead.

“Lo-look.”

The boy followed Ron’s line of sight and his eyes widened. Salazar smiled proudly as realization dawned on the teenaged male’s features.

“Open your eyes Hermione.” Salazar commanded.

Her eyes shot open, golden orbs gleamed menacingly. The floorboards creaked under her weight as she strode over on all fours, the black strips along her coat of fur adding a rippling effect. Her tail twitched, swaying from side to side.

“I was beginning to think ‘kitten’ was an understatement. It would appear I’ve been proved right.” Salazar laughed.

Demetrius who had long stopped crying was now staring facedly at the giant feline in front of him.

“What’s with all the yell- the hell!? Where’d the tiger come from!?” Draco appeared behind the two.

Hermione’s eyes twinkled with mirth. Gazing at Salazar questioningly, a rumble resounded in her chest.

“Relinquish your hold; that is how you can revert back.”

Shutting her eyes, she did as she told and within seconds she was returned back to her former self, panting heavily.

“That...was bloody brilliant Mione.” Ron uttered.

Harry helped her up off the floor, “A tiger? It suites you, I suppose.”

Hermione laughed weakly.

“I must say, Granger, not too bad. I always figured you for a chinchilla though, all that hair.” Draco commented dryly.

She ignored the ferret’s comment, sending a grateful smile in Salazar’s direction which he returned with a grin of his own.

--oOo--

Later that evening after dinner, the Order took up residence in dining room. The atmosphere had altered dramatically from its former comfortableness at dinner. It was strictly down to business now. Hermione stood next to Salazar towards the back, having been told that it was important the two of them be present that evening, something which didn’t bode well in Hermione’s book. After Remus went over the initial reports, Snape stood up at the head of the table announcing that Lucius and Draco were to be permanent residents in Grimmauld Place and fulltime Order members, which naturally caused a stir amongst the group, especially those who weren’t privy to the nature of their induction.

“The matter at hand to discuss now is who will replace me in my position as Potions professor and Slytherin Head of House in the semester to come.”

“Severus, what are you going on about?” Remus asked, startled.

“Indeed, lad, what are you thinking?” Moody piped up.

“With my betrayal being discovered, I cannot return to my post at Hogwarts, and neither can Draco. We will be sought after and bring further threat to the safety of the school. I’ve already discussed this with Minerva, she is inclined to agree.”

“Well that’s all fine and dandy, but where are we going to find a proper Slytherin Head of House whom we can trust?” Tonks posed the question.

Snape’s beady eyes flickered toward the back of the room and Hermione’s stomach did a flip. It was then that she knew why their presence had been required that night. Draco too, followed the man’s line of sight and his jaw dropped.

“What? Him..? Who the bloody hell are you anyway?” Lucius whacked his son over the head yet again.

“Draco, your mother and I brought you up better than that, now sit down.”

Draco’s eyes flashed in pain at the mention of his mother, something Hermione didn’t fail to notice.

“He does have a point, though Severus, I don’t believe we were ever properly introduced.”

Salazar threw a careful glance at Severus who nodded in return.

“Salazar Slytherin,” He answered smoothly, “Founder of Slytherin House, at your service.”

--oOo--

End Note: Yes, yes, I’m back, with many apologies for the long wait. Life decided to through in a rather large distraction of the male kind. That coupled with school, and then summer classes, gave me little time to focus on writing. However, I’ve spent the last few days writing non-stop, practically, just to get this out. Don’t worry, loves, I won’t abandon these stories anytime soon, that I can promise, however, I won’t be updating as frequently as in the past, but when I do, rest assured I’ll make sure the chapters are long and worth the wait.

So, Sal is going back to home sweet Hogwarts as Slytherin Head of House. (Any more H’s & might’ve invented a new tongue-twister, haha.) I look forward to writing a few classroom scenes. This particular chapter wasn't properly beta-ed partially because I wanted to get it out as soon as possible. Hopefully it turned out fine and doesn't require any major editing, but you all will be the judge of that, I suppose. Go easy on me, it's been a while since I last wrote.

Thank You for sticking with me all these months and I hope to hear from you all again soon!

Meow-Mix-91

P.S. I love designing, so I of course, designed Hermione’s dress from the last chapter. Here are the links. The first one looks a bit awkward, I know, but just imagine she is sitting on something and resting against a bar, which is what I’d intended, I just never got around to actually drawing it. The second image, is just a back view. Just edit the URLs according to the stuff in the parathesis and take out the spaces.

http: (slash slash) i6. (photobucket dot com)

http: (slash slash) i6. (photobucket dot com)