Birth of a Phoenix
Ch.10- Toads, Snakes, and Bats, Oh My
A/N: Hello everyone, I'm not dead, and this story isn't abandoned! I'm really super sorry about the long wait, but I can explain. This summer, some of my friends and I took a jaunt through France and along the Mediterranean, and I was without a computer or internet the whole time, and after that school started, and was nuts. But now I'm back, and this is a new chapter! Enjoy!
Harry rolled out of his bed and onto his feet promptly at 5 am on the first morning of classes, as he had become accustomed to over the summer.
In reflection, his nostalgia had played the Gryffindor Boys' Dorm up a little too much in his memory. He could, in fact, do without the smell of dirty socks or Ron's incessant snoring. Harry was surprised to find himself wishing for his private suite back.
Harry dressed quickly and strode down to the Common Room. It was empty, which wasn't shocking, given the time. He stretched briefly and started in on an abbreviated version of his morning routine.
This mostly consisted of a jog around the lake and some push-ups and sit-ups, all things he could do without weights. Next, he would do a little Tai Chi as a cool-down and then meditate to strengthen his Occlumency shields.
As Harry jogged by the greenhouses, however, he encountered another student who was awake and about. Neville Longbottom was dressed in dirt-stained overalls and a pair of dragonhide gloves and was hunched over a set of pots, tending to the contents.
Curious, Harry slowed to a walk, making sure to make enough noise so as to not scare Neville. As Harry approached, Neville glanced back over his shoulder and gave him a wave. Unfortunately, his diverted attention allowed whatever magical plant he was tending to to lash out and leave a long, thin gash down his cheek.
Neville winced and clutched his face with both hands. Harry's eyes widened and he bounded the last few steps to Neville's side.
"Oh, shite, Neville! Here, let me see it, I've learned some basic healing over the summer, I might be able to fix it," Harry said, and Neville retracted his hand. The wound was shallow, but it was an angry red and trickling blood.
Harry pointed his wand at Neville's cheek and muttered a quick 'Episkey'. The blood stopped and some of the redness disappeared, but the wound mostly remained. Harry glared at the wound and brought his hand up.
With a deep breath, Harry brought up his Phoenix magic and channeled it towards his hand. The pad of his thumb began to glow a slight gold, and Harry pressed it firmly over Neville's cut, tracing along the length of it.
Neville flinched at initial contact, but then gritted his teeth and bore it. When Harry retracted his hand, there was nothing but a swath of unblemished skin. The only way to tell that there had been an injury was by the streak of dirt-free skin on Neville's cheek.
"Hey, thanks Harry, that was a pretty neat bit of magic. What spell was that? It might come in mighty useful around the greenhouses," Neville asked, a grin creeping on to his face.
"Uh, well, its' kinda hard to explain-," Harry began, his brain churning for an explanation, and Neville's face fell.
"Oh, I get it; you think I'm a squib, just like everyone else does. That's okay, I've come to terms with the fact that I'm no good at magic anyways," Neville muttered as he tried to turn away.
Harry winced to himself and then grasped Neville's shoulder, forcing him to spin back around, "No, Neville, It has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me and my, er, situation," Harry said reassuringly.
Neville's face shifted slightly from hurt to curious, "Your situation? What do you mean by that? Are you okay?" He peppered Harry with questions, before second-guessing himself and blushing.
Harry looked at Neville for a moment, contemplating. "You should tell him, the man's trustworthy and loyal to a fault, and you know the Prophecy could have applied to him too. Not to mention, feel that aura," Fawkes' sudden interjection into Harry's thoughts took him by surprise.
Harry considered Fawkes' words before he opened his aura sense, feeling out at Neville's core. Indeed, Neville's core seemed to radiate power, much like Dumbledore and Grindlewald did. Neville's power, however, seemed timid, almost twitchy, compared to the confident, forceful presence of the two mighty sorcerers.
Taking a deep breath, Harry released Neville's shoulder and, with a bit of a flourish, stuck his right arm out to his side. In a magnificent whirl of flames, Fawkes' burst into existence on Harry's forearm. Neville gaped and Harry held back a chuckle, "Show off," He teased his feathered companion.
"H-Harry, that's D-D-Dumbledore's phoenix!" The shock had brought out Neville's stammer at full force, so Fawkes emitted a short note which sent a rush of confidence through him.
"Well, not really, I mean no one owns a Phoenix, and he never bonded with Dumbledore, he just stayed with him to look for his bondmate here at Hogwarts," Harry said in way of explanation.
Neville looked at Harry for a moment before the light of comprehension burst into his eyes, "Wait, does that mean?" He trailed off.
"Yes, Fawkes and I are bond-brothers; he is my confidant and friend," Harry said, stroking the birds' magnificent plumage.
"So to answer your question or your first question at least, the reason I can't teach you that spell is because it isn't one. I just used a little Phoenix magic to help the Episkey along," Harry explained.
"So can you use that on any injury?" Neville asked, a peculiar hope shining in his eyes.
Harry saw that look and felt his heart clench. Closing his eyes for a moment, Harry steeled himself; the story of the fates of Frank and Alice Longbottom had been told many times over the summer, always over alcohol, "No, Neville, only on physical injuries, I'm sorry mate," Harry said, patting Neville's arm comfortingly.
Neville's expression changed quickly to one of hopelessness, and a solitary tear rolled down his cheek. With a choked voice, he spoke, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't act like this; at least I can hope that someday my parents will wake up, I guess you don't get that luxury."
Harry stepped closer to Neville and placed his hand on his shoulder. "You have every right Neville, you didn't get to grow up with your parents either, and that is a fate that no child should have, no matter what reason," Harry said sincerely, and the two young men embraced in a hug that both would later admit wasn't terribly manly.
After both had collected themselves a little and released each other, and after Neville had cleaned up himself and his workstation, the pair walked side by side through the crisp morning air up to the castle for breakfast.
The first breakfast of the term was always a chaotic affair at Hogwarts, with students swarming about the Great Hall, trying to find all of their friends and talk about what (or who) they had done over the summer break. Harry and Neville stepped into this madness side by side, and both stopped for a moment to draw in the atmosphere of the castle they saw as home.
It was then that Harry realized just how much he and Neville had in common. Both were orphans, their parents taken away by Voldemort and his agents. Both were potential candidates for the title of "The Chosen One". But most importantly, Neville was afraid, just like Harry was. He was afraid of letting his parents down, of not making them proud. It made Harry wonder why he wasn't closer to the other boy.
Harry was torn from his reverie when Hermione flopped heavily into the seat across from where he himself had just sat. She looked terrible, with dark circles under her eyes and a sheaf of blotched parchment clutched in her grasp.
"Hermione, you look like hell," Ron, who had seated himself on Harry's opposite flank from Neville, stated in his typical, blunt fashion.
Hermione's death glare was sufficient to shut the redhead's mouth. Then, she turned her almost-predatory gaze to Harry, who cocked an eyebrow with a mix of curiosity and fear.
"Harry, you wouldn't believe how many questions I have about all of the things you learned this summer!" She gushed, and Harry shushed her.
"It's kind of a secret Hermione, try not to shout," Harry said. His tone was joking, but the gathered group could feel the serious undertone.
"Sorry, it's just so exciting; last night I made a list to get my thoughts in order. I tried to keep it concise, so it's only 347 questions, but I think it's a good start," The spark of knowledge was sparkling in Hermione's eyes, and Harry let out a long sigh.
"I knew it! I told you it would be more than 250! That's 5 Galleons you owe me," Fawkes' triumphant voice flared in Harry's head. Harry responded with the mental equivalent of an eye roll.
"I still don't understand what you do with money anyways, it's not like you can spend it,"
"Hey, gold is shiny, lay off," was Fawkes' mock-offended response.
"What are you, a magpie?" Harry buried his face in his hands to cover his grin.
"Harry! Harry! Are you ready for your first question? You kind of zoned out there," Hermione was leaning across the table and tapping Harry's arm. Harry groaned.
Unfortunately for Hermione, her line of questioning was cut off by the arrival of everyone's favorite blond Slytherin.
"Malfoy," Ron's voice held a bit of a growl as the smug boy and his two thugs approached, but Harry was feeling that, for the first time ever, he was actually glad to see the ponce.
Malfoy halted stiffly in front of the Gryffindor table and spoke, haltingly and with great effort, "Weasley, I would like to apologize for my unwarranted attack on you yesterday evening at dinner. I humbly ask for your forgiveness," He seemed to have to spit the last words through his grimace. Now Harry could only hope that Ron was capable of being the bigger person.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief when Ron extended his hand, and Malfoy took it, shaking it once, before turning on his heel and striding away.
"Well, that was… odd," Neville remarked, and the rest of the group nodded in agreement.
The rest of breakfast was a relatively calm affair, Hermione's list forgotten for the moment. The only excitement was the distribution of schedules, which rapidly turned, for Harry, into a sinking dread. He wasn't quite sure how he managed to end up with both Double Defense and Double Potions on Mondays, but it had happened.
Harry sighed and hoisted his bag onto his shoulder. Undoubtedly, they would have Potions with the Slytherins this year, just like every year prior.
In arriving in the dungeons, Harry took no joy in proving his hypothesis true. He settled into a bench near the back of the class, flanked by Ron and Hermione. He could only hope that the progress he had made with Snape over the summer did not disappear now.
Unfortunately for Harry, Severus Snape was a creature of habit, and one of his oldest, most powerfully ingrained habits was 'Attack Potter'. While he had seen some of the real Harry Potter over the summer, the return to a school environment had allowed, once again, the black, messy hair and red Gryffindor badge to block out Lily's warm green eyes.
Snape swept into the room, his fluttering cloak and cold sneer set the perfect picture of cruel grace as his eyes ran disapprovingly over the Gryffindors, and then slightly less so over the Slytherins.
"This year is your OWL year, which means it marks – for many of you – the last year wherein I will have to see your inept faces," With this, a vicious glare at Neville, "and for others, it is only the beginning of great things to come," Snape graced a few of his more promising Snakes with a blank stare, his usual sneer only a ghost on his face.
"Now, this year, the majority of potions that we will be studying will require more than two hands for buffoons like yourselves to brew. I will be assigning partners for the year. The person I will put you with will be your partner, no questions," Snape suddenly stopped his pacing and swung his gaze over the students.
"Crabbe, Goyle," He listed off the first pair, who looked at him with their stupid, vacuous gazes. Thankfully, Malfoy slapped them both upside the head and they lumbered to their indicated station. Snape continued to list pairings.
At least, he did until he came to rest on Malfoy, who was gazing hungrily at a pretty Slytherin, one who was only slightly less blonde than himself. Snape scowled, Draco Malfoy and Daphne Greengrass were two of his best potioneers.
It was for this reason he had assumed that Draco had originally approached him to make sure they were paired together, but now Snape could see that it was a rather baser emotion. Disgusting.
"Greengrass and," The look on Draco Malfoy's face sickened Snape. Perhaps it reminded him all too much of his own expression when he had convinced Professor Slughorn to pair him with a certain red-headed prodigy at the beginning of his own OWL year.
He shook the memories of that disastrous year from his mind, and instead, focused on doing something stupid.
"… Longbottom," Neville gaped at Snape in shock. He never imagined being paired with a Slytherin, much less a competent one, and certainly not the brilliant beauty that was Daphne Greengrass.
Daphne, on the other hand, reflected nothing of her emotions, even to Snape with his always-on surface Legilimency. She was his favorite pupil for a reason.
Of course, beneath the frigid 'Ice Queen' exterior, Daphne Greengrass was a whirlwind of thoughts. She wasn't blind, she had seen Malfoy's lustful gaze, felt its disgusting weight.
On the other hand, it was Longbottom, who had been the joke of the school for 4 years now, and was woefully inept. She sighed internally, and resigned to herself that doing two people's work was the better of the two outcomes.
All the while, Snape had continued listing. Hermione and Ron had miraculously been placed together, though Hermione suspected that it was mainly in hopes that their bickering would provide Snape opportunities to dock massive points.
Finally, as Snape neared the end of his list, he realized that by placing Longbottom and Greengrass together, he had left Potter alone, and he only had semi-competent students left to group.
He briefly considered Malfoy, but decided that he was going to be getting a visit from Lucius already, so it wasn't the best option. Memory charms were a hassle.
At the end of the class, Harry exited the dungeons with the other Gryffindors in silence, still slightly in shock about his partner for the year. He just couldn't wrap his head around what Snape had been thinking.
Harry was mercifully torn from his thoughts by the appearance of his favorite red-head at his side. He realized that he had subconsciously drifted away from the others as they headed towards their first elective class – Divination for everyone except Hermione and, shockingly, Neville, who were bound for Ancient Runes – and found his way back into the general vicinity of the Gryffindor Common Room.
Harry was quite pleased already with his new free period which had replaced Divination, and the additional fact that Ginny had a free period then as well only heightened his pleasure.
The pair walked side-by-side in comfortable silence, not overtly touching for fear that someone would see them and draw unwanted – if not necessarily untrue – conclusions, but remaining close and brushing shoulders unconsciously.
Harry had already realized in the short time since term had restarted that the Ginny he had become so infatuated with in letters couldn't hold a candle to the Ginny whose wonderful, flowery scent now set his stomach to fluttering.
Double-checking to make sure that no one was around, Harry dropped a quick kiss onto the top of Ginny's head, and was rewarded when she beamed up at him.
They were approaching the Gryffindor Common Room when Ginny reached up and grasped Harry's arm, diverting them down a small side corridor and into what appeared to be a small sitting room, only truly big enough for two or three people.
The furniture was old, probably even antique, and very prim and elegant, but that seemed contradicted by the lurid colors of the upholstery, which not even a layer of dust could conceal.
"An old haunt of Fred and George's that they showed me in Second Year," Ginny whispered to Harry as she turned to face him.
"We don't need to worry about them busting in here, though, right?" Harry asked, stepping closer.
"Of course not, they moved on to bigger and better things years ago," Ginny's voice was slightly breathless now as their faces came ever closer.
"Bigger, certainly, but I really doubt they found something better," Harry whispered, and then that was the end of words as they occupied their lips with other things.
Unfortunately, this pleasant diversion had the end result of Harry rushing into the new DADA room at the last possible second, looking rather tousled.
Harry slid into his seat – receiving a glare from Hermione in the process – just as the Toad-Woman herself appeared out of her adjoining office.
The woman's appalling pink cardigan was perfectly complimented by the disturbingly salmon walls, covered with pictures of kneazles. Harry felt like gagging.
"Good day, class!" Umbridge announced, her voice sickeningly sweet in the most condescending fashion possible. A few students timidly returned her greeting, causing her to frown, "When I greet you, I expect the same courtesy in return, again: good day class!"
This time, the whole class sing-songed a "Good day, Professor Umbridge!" in response, even with their hearts very obviously not in it.
"Better. You may put away your wands; we will not be using them in this class. Please get out your Ministry-approved textbooks so that we may see just how poor your Defense education really is," Umbridge stated, her smile never faltering. Harry groaned a little; this was exactly what he had feared it would be.
"I think that your little plan might just happen after all," Fawkes' voice rang through Harry's head.
"That was a joke Fawkes; I'm not going to actually teach a clandestine Defense class. Most of these people think I'm a psycho, remember," Harry responded, while doing his best to feign attention.
"But soon they'll think you're a talented psycho, and OWLs are pretty important to most of these people," Fawkes' musical laughter brought a ghost of a smile to Harry's face. Unfortunately for him, it was a very poorly timed smile.
"Do you find something amusing in this lesson, Mr. Potter," Umbridge's overly-honeyed voice broke through Harry's inattention. He glanced up at her, realizing she expected an answer. He hadn't the slightest clue what they had been discussing.
Suddenly, Harry felt the rush of a spell flying by him. It impacted his textbook, causing the pages to flip rapidly to what Harry assumed was the correct page, almost as if caught in a breeze.
Rapidly, Harry scanned the page, which was a mission statement of sorts written by the author. The utter drivel made Harry want to scream, but he refrained, drawing up all of the skill and nimble wit that Sirius and Remus had cultivated in him.
"Actually, I do, Professor, I find it very amusing that the author believes that all situations can be resolved without magic, or indeed without any overt action," Harry said calmly, allowing only a shadow of a smirk onto his face and into his voice.
"And what makes you believe that you have the credentials to dispute a licensed and, of course, fully educated, Ministry-approved author, your encounter with the very-much-dead Dark Lord, perhaps?" Her sweet voice twisted into a sugared sneer at the end, obviously trying to spark an outburst.
And she did. Harry heard the scrap of a chair against a stone floor from Ron's direction. Before his red-headed best friend could make a scene, Harry responded himself.
"Professor, you believe werewolves are dangerous, yes? Threatening Dark Creatures, possibly even a menace to society?" Harry intoned, his voice questioning.
"Of course! They are dirty, inhuman monsters and should all be put down!" Umbridge sounded slightly confused, but vehement nonetheless. All of the Gryffindors sat back, bracing themselves for the explosion that they were now sure was imminent.
"So you believe that, if confronted by one-such creature during the full moon, that it would be best to do as this author suggests and seek a non-violent solution, allowing it to go on its way, spreading it's horrible curse, possibly to upstanding members of society, or would you act, attempt to – as you say – put it down?" Harry's tone was still that of a question, but there was a cold, hard edge that was undeniably present.
Umbridge looked as if she had been slapped, her mouth working overtime, but producing no sound. Harry had left her no way to respond without sounding like a hypocrite. Eventually she decided on a course of action.
"Detention, Mr. Potter, for the rest of the week!" She grinned triumphantly, but soon faltered when Harry looked unfazed, and the rest of the class looked, well, the Gryffindors looked indignant, while the Ravenclaws with whom they shared the class looked curious, and perhaps a little irritated. All-in-all, not what she had been expecting.
As the story of Harry Potter's first DADA class with Umbridge spread through the Hogwarts rumour mill, the exact details were twisted and changed, as is normal, but one fact remained the same: Umbridge wanted a war, but the first battle had been a route. Potter- 1, Umbridge- 0.
By the time that the end of the first week rolled around, Harry and Ron were spread out on two couches in the Common Room, with Ginny sitting on the floor, leaning against Harry's couch. They were close enough that Ginny's head was against Harry's side, but it was not so close as to be suspicious. Not that anyone would notice; Hermione was sitting cross-legged in between the couches, surrounded by parchments and books, trying to write out the whole 5th Year DADA curriculum in a coherent study schedule, seeing as she had already determined that Umbridge's class to be worthless, especially since Harry had flat-out refused to put an end to the verbal sparring with her.
Mercifully, McGonagall had stepped in after that first class and put her foot down, saying that it was unreasonable to give a student detention in the first week, much less for all of it. When Harry had asked if she knew what kind of blow she had dealt to Umbridge's authority, McGonagall's smirk had said all he needed to know.
Ron, on the other hand, had gotten over his indignation about Umbridge's attacks, and had decided he quite liked having an easy class. He had occupied himself with half-listening to Hermione's muttering while trying to gaze down her top, which both Harry and Ginny were trying to ignore.
Fawkes was perched on the back of the couch, preening his feathers and trilling warmly at the younger Years, and the occasional upper Year, who would approach him to stroke his warm feathers and offer him the odd morsel of food.
Fawkes' revelation to the Gryffindors had been a surprising event to say the least, occurring in the middle of the Common Room after dinner on the first day of classes, and the uproar over Harry's announcement of the fact had culminated in an 'epic' speech by Harry.
"Fawkes is not my pet, he is not my property! He is my friend, my brother, and I will not have him mistreated! Not to mention he could burn your bloody hand off!" Ginny had taken to teasing him liberally with imitations of it done in an exaggeratedly deep, scratchy growl, "No, I don't want to talk about Voldemort! Yes, I believe that he was reincarnated into a new body, I was there, but I won't try to make you believe it, all I ask is that you learn to protect yourselves. The world is a dangerous place; if it isn't Voldemort, it'll be something else," Ginny finished with a rousing wave of her fist.
Harry whacked her lightly on the shoulder, chuckling, and Ginny grabbed his wrist and tugged, sending Harry rolling over her and into a heap on her lap. He grinned up at her for a moment, and Ginny let her cover slip for a moment to gently run a hand through his messy hair before he rolled off of her and pushed himself to his feet.
Harry stood and found himself staring straight into a pair of crystal blue eyes, which were void of any twinkle. Instead, the eyes of Albus Dumbledore showed a profound depth of sorrow.
"Albus," Harry nodded respectfully to the Headmaster, unaware of the number of eyes that were now affixed on him due to his use of the mighty wizard's first name, "What's the matter?"
"Perceptive as always, my boy," Dumbledore placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, "Harry, Arabella Figg has been killed. I believe they were looking for your relatives, but were repelled by the Blood Wards, so they settled on the nearest connection they could find," Dumbledore's voice was heavy, and Fawkes let out a mournful cry before leaping up to alight on Harry's shoulder, right next to Dumbledore's hand. He ducked his feathered head to nuzzle his long-time friend's arm.
Harry blinked hard. Another person who had been killed because of him, and he was still nowhere near ready to take on Voldemort.
Fawkes very quickly became aware of the direction of Harry's thoughts, and he turned to gently peck him on the temple.
"Come on brother, don't do this to yourself. Think of how many he would kill if he was unopposed," Fawkes said supportively.
Dumbledore proved his own perceptiveness as well, "Harry, Voldemort has done almost nothing in the months since his resurrection. He has been gathering more support certainly, and he sent out a few covert strike teams, but even those he stopped after you decimated the one sent to the Weasleys'. Our intelligence suggests that he still doesn't know what happened to them. His primary focus, as far as can be ascertained, has been you, and as such, he hasn't had time for anything else," Dumbledore reassured the teen quietly, a slight twitch of his hand bringing a privacy charm snapping into place.
Moments later, the charm fell and Dumbledore strolled away in a flutter of robes. Harry turned back to Ginny, Hermione, and Ron who were gazing at him curiously. As came back to them, Hermione opened her mouth to question him, but he ignored her, ducking down and grabbing several sheets of blank parchment from his bag, which was leaning against the side of the couch.
"Hermione," Harry grabbed a parchment from the pile of things surrounding her feet, "Is this the curriculum you found for OWLs?" He asked her. She nodded mutely, put off by the cold she saw in his eyes. Harry put it on the bottom of the stack of blank parchment and, spreading his fingers and laying his palms flat on top and bottom of the stack, he pushed them together. The others looked on in amazement as ink seemed to bleed through the pages, forming several perfect copies of the list.
Harry handed each of them a copy of the list, "Go through it and circle anything you don't know for sure, and we'll put aside a couple days each week so I can work with you guys individually. Voldemort wants to get to me through people close to me, but Merlin's balls if I'm going to make it easy for him," Harry's voice was an intense growl.
Ron and Ginny took the lists with no problems, Ron because he was sure he could convince Harry to slack off and Ginny because it was an easy way to get him alone. Hermione, however, affixed him with a glare and pushed the list away, huffing.
"I've never needed your help before, Harry, and I certainly don't need it now. I'll have you remember who's copied whose essays for the past four years," Hermione snapped at him and then spun on her heel and stormed off in a whirl of bushy hair.
Ron gaped at her retreating back, and Harry let out a long, low sigh. In all honesty, he knew he probably should have been a little less blunt in his demands, and that Hermione could have very easily taken his statement as an insult to her abilities, which were, as Harry well knew, her true weak point.
This, combined with his continued refusal to answer her questions with anything more than vague questions, meant that Hermione probably had every reason to be upset.
Harry didn't enjoy snubbing Hermione's quest for knowledge, but he felt that his summer was something personal, an intimate journey towards self-awareness which he didn't envy sharing with Hermione.
Of course, this desire was in diametric opposition to Hermione's almost-obsessive need to know everything she possibly could. While this was a tremendous asset when it came to schoolwork, Harry and Ron had long-since agreed that it was highly frustrating when she turned her focus on them.
They had also agreed that, when Hermione got like this, the best way to deal with her was to simply leave her alone. Hermione was the type who needed to think things through completely, considering every option and possibility without interference.
That and neither of them really wanted to risk her fury.
So, by an unspoken agreement, the two boys said goodnight to Ginny, and went to bed.
A/N: Anyways, now that I've got this story back on track; let's talk about what's coming up! First off, pairings: Other than Harry/Ginny, I don't plan on using canon pairings, as you might be able to tell given the hints I've dropped in this chapter. I'm considering at least one same-sex pairing right now in my head, but nothing is certain, and if it does happen, it won't be graphic; I'm not writing a smut fic. On the "Golden Trio": Harry, Ron, and Hermione won't stop being friends, but they will go through some rough patches, and Harry will find out that there are others who are just as willing to stand by his side. Neville is certainly one of them. Harry's mysterious Potions partner will be revealed in the next couple chapters, and the DA will be born next chapter as well. Thank you to all of you who stuck around during my absence, and please, drop me a review! 'Till next time!