Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Damaged Bridges	By : Gandalfs-Beard Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 46850 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, all rights belong to Rowling and Warner Bros, nor do I make any money from the production of this work.

Chapter List
- 23
- 24
- 25
Morning Has Broken

Golden rays of early morning sunlight peeked over the top of the windowsill, poking through the gap in the lacy curtains and stirring Hermione. As her eyelids fluttered open it suddenly struck her as odd that an inner room in a terrace house would have a window. Then she remembered it was a wizarding home, larger on the inside than out, with windows wherever they were wanted.
Hermione glanced at her fiancé who was still fast asleep beside her. She stroked Harry’s untidy black hair, a little smile creeping to her lips, a poignant look in her eyes. He looked so peaceful at the moment, no tension from nightmares, or from his paining scar which she knew had been bothering him off and on since their first night back at Number Twelve.
Harry had tried not to show it as usual, and had tried to attribute it all to killing the horcruxes, but Hermione was fairly certain that Voldemort couldn’t be happy not to find them at Hogwarts. She had no doubt that Voldemort’s mood swings were causing Harry pain, and that they had finally settled into resignation, making it easier for Harry to block him. And the pain from killing Hufflepuff’s Cup had clearly ebbed during the night.
Hermione gently kissed Harry’s forehead and snuggled next to him, feeling his warmth and tranquility flowing into her. The sting which had accompanied her happiness at seeing Harry in a rare moment of peace faded to be replaced by contentment; Hermione was asleep again in no time as the sun rose higher.

~o0o~
Parvati rubbed Dora’s back while the youthful ex-Auror threw up again, trying to imagine herself being pregnant; it didn’t look as much fun as her mum had assured her it would be. Parvati was supposed to be finding a nice boy to marry - preferably of Indian descent - and making lots of babies with him, and certainly not preparing to participate in a war.
At one time - when she was much younger - that had seemed like a nice idea, and hanging out with Lavender giggling over boys had been fun for a while. But now that Lavender had moved on to Ron Weasley, Parvati wasn’t entirely sure what she wanted anymore, and boys were the last thing that was on her mind.
Parvati wanted to do something meaningful with her life - that was why she had wanted to come along with Harry and Hermione to begin with. But after the last few nights sharing a bed with Dora, and seeing how much Luna and Ginny enjoyed being together, she wasn’t entirely sure if that was all there was to her current lack of interest in guys.
Dora hadn’t “put the moves” on her or anything like that, but it had made Parvati wonder if her lack of interest in starting a family with a guy meant something else too. She had known that Dora liked girls mostly, but now she knew that Dora also liked some guys - obviously.
But who did Parvati like? She felt like she still liked guys, even though she wasn’t interested in a relationship at the moment. But Parvati had to admit, before Lavender had hooked up with Ron, she had enjoyed “practice kissing” with Lavender much more than she had thought she would.
Finally Dora stopped heaving, clambered to her feet, and washed her face in the marble sink while Parvati flushed the toilet.
“Blimey!” Dora grumbled as she toweled off her face. “Thanks Parvati. I can’t wait to get past this stage of bein’ pregnant!”
“So it’s not like this the whole time then?”
“Nah! Could be up to a couple more months and a bit I suppose. What’s bonkers is that now I feel like eatin’ chocolate covered bacon dipped in curry sauce for breakfast...”
“You can’t be serious!” Parvati almost laughed, a bemused expression on her face.
“I mighta been joking about the curry sauce.” Dora shot Parvati a wink and a grin. “But chocolate covered bacon actually sounds really good right now. For some reason weird food cravings go along with this stage of pregnancy.”
“I suppose Dobby and Kreacher will be more than happy to oblige,” Parvati giggled.
“Yeah! ... True that,” Dora agreed. “I feel like I’m livin’ in the lap of luxury. I haven’t eaten this good since Hogwarts.”
“You seem to know an awful lot about pregnancy,” said Parvati, her curiosity getting the better of her.
“Well, I did have a friend who went through it, so a bit of it’s experience. But actually, I learned a lot during Auror training. We all have t’learn a bit of Healing magic and about pregnancy - stuff like that - in case of emergencies. You never know what you might ‘ave to deal with when you’re in the field.”
“Oh, of course!” Parvati nodded. “That makes perfect sense. So what happens after you get over the first few months.”
“Well, you might ‘ave to sleep in your own room at that point. I could start feelin’ really randy and think you’re one o’ my girlfriends in the middle of the night while I’m half asleep or dreamin’...”
“Oh!” Parvati squeaked, her cheeks growing hotter.
“I’m joking,” said Dora quickly. “...Just joking.”
Parvati bit her lip uncertainly, looking half-amused. Given her most recent thoughts, she wasn’t sure that she’d mind all that much.

~o0o~
“I’m bored,” said Crabbe as he and Goyle followed Draco who was stalking around the castle on patrol.
“I thought we were gonna do... stuff,” Goyle agreed thickly. “Why aren’t we beating up Mudbloods?”
“Yeah! Or doing... stuff with Mudblood girls?”
“Because I’ve got better things to do than mess around with filthy animals!” snapped Draco.
Crabbe and Goyle fell silent, looking rather disgruntled.
But that was a good question actually. Draco wasn’t sure - they had been given carte blanche by the Carrows to do what they liked with Mudbloods who got out of line, after all, and it was easy enough to find an excuse to punish a Mudblood.
But using the Cruciatus on some random Mudblood didn’t feel as satisfying as he had thought it might. And there was only one Mudblood girl he was really interested in bending to his will. It had been several days since the takeover of Hogwarts. Draco was growing increasingly agitated and frustrated.
Potter was gone, and with him his pet Mudblood. Draco had been looking forward to making a chained up Potter watch while he, Draco, made Granger his own pet, violating her in every way imaginable. And that blood-traitor Weasley was gone too. Draco had been looking forward to using the Cruciatus on him while Potter watched that as well.
What use was it being back at Hogwarts when there was no Weasley or Granger to torture while Potter was helpless to defend them?
“If you’re bored, beat it!” Draco suddenly snarled at Crabbe and Goyle. “Go play with Theo! I’m sure he can find something for you to do!”
“Er...” Goyle was too taken aback to think of any way to respond. Though he wasn’t particularly good at thinking at the best of times, really.
“Yeah! Fine!” said Crabbe, “Got it! You’re too good for us now that you’ve got a Dark Mark! We don’t need you to have a bit a’ fun anyway. ... Let’s go, Greg!”
“Huh?” Goyle still looked confused. “Where we goin’ then?”
“You deaf? Mr. High-n’-Mighty don’t need us no more - come on.”
Draco stood in the stone corridor watching Crabbe and Goyle lumber away. Crabbe was right. He didn’t need them anymore. Draco had a Dark Mark and was perfectly capable of handling things on his own now.
He didn’t need Hogwarts either. It wasn’t like he needed to be there for an education anymore, especially when it was being taught by pathetic teachers who weren’t inclined to teach the Dark Arts. Even Snape was holding out, though Draco reckoned he was too busy being Headmaster to teach Dark Arts classes. All Draco was doing was uselessly patrolling the castle when any peasant could be on guard duty.
Draco was a Death Eater! There was nothing left at Hogwarts for him now. He should be out there hunting down Potter and Granger and Weasley, or rounding up muggleborns, or fighting Dumbledore’s people.
Draco whirled around and marched off to find Snape and demand a chance to do something meaningful for the Dark Lord... and for himself in the process.

~o0o~
Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, hopped up on several cups of coffee, the newest Senior Undersecretary practically skipped through the halls of the Ministry.
Yes, the Ministry was still reeling from the debacle of Dumbledore’s escape and Minister Umbridge was still extremely aggravated, but he, Percy Weasley, was still Britain’s newest Senior Undersecretary and he was going to do everything he could to prove to Dolores that she hadn’t been mistaken in her appointment of him to the position.
The Minister’s secretary looked up at Percy and beamed at him when he entered the outer office.
“You can go right in sir. The Minister is expecting you.”
“Thank you, er...” Percy realised that he had been Senior Undersecretary for weeks but he still didn’t know the name of the Minister’s secretary.
“Judith Miller, but you can just call me Judy, sir.”
“Oh, er... yes! Thank you Judy. I’ll just, er... pop right in then.”
Percy cringed at how green he sounded and kicked himself for his lameness. He was the Senior Undersecretary now, a senior Ministry Official, not a mere intern or assistant. He really needed to work on remembering that. It was just like being Head Boy at Hogwarts, Percy told himself.
Feeling better, more like his bossy self, Percy straightened up and marched into the Minister’s office.
“Good morning Minister,” he said brightly, taking a seat.
“Oh Percy, it’s just us dear,” said the Minister sweetly. “No need to be formal. ... Would you like some tea?”
“Oh, er... yes please. Thank you Dolores.” Percy wasn’t sure that he really needed any more caffeine and sugar but he graciously accepted the dainty, flowery teacup and took a sip.
“You are probably wondering why I called you away from your duties this morning, Percy,” Dolores began after taking a sip from her own steaming cup of tea. “I have a quandary, and I am afraid that you are in the best position to help me resolve it.”
“Of course, Dolores,” said Percy eagerly. “Whatever it is, I’m sure I can help.”
“Very good! Thank you dear,” Dolores shot him a sympathetic smile. “As you know, despite a few odd sightings, none of the leads on Dumbledore have panned out yet. ... But it occurred to me that there are some in the Ministry who might have some ideas on the matter.
“I considered having Yaxley make the inquiries, as the personnel are in the employ of the D.M.L.E., but then I thought a light approach might be best. I am speaking of your father of course, as I know that he and Dumbledore had very close ties...”
Percy inwardly groaned; he should have seen this coming. Percy tried to maintain as neutral a face as possible as Dolores continued making her case.
“Now, I know this is asking rather a lot from you, Percy, but it would save us all a lot of trouble if you and your father could clear the air a bit. He is our best chance at the moment of finding Dumbledore, and of all people, despite the current strain on your relationship, you are probably the only one he might cooperate with willingly.
“I would hate to have to resort to disciplinary measures to make him see reason. He is your family after all.”
“Not... not a problem, Dolores,” said Percy in a strangled sort of voice. “You’re quite right of course. My father is far too close to Dumbledore, and you would be well within your rights to hold him for interrogation. I can’t promise you that he’ll listen to me, but I’ll do the best I can.”
“Thank you dear! I knew I could count on you, Percy!” Dolores beamed and took another sip of her tea.

~o0o~
Percy’s face fell when he peered around his father’s empty office. The file cabinets were all open, not a single file left inside, the scuffed and scratched mahogany desk was cleaned out, and the muggle newspaper clippings which usually covered the walls were all gone. There was nothing left behind but a few paper clips, push pins, and staplers.
Shocked, Percy darted back into the central office with all the cubicles. He pounced on the first office clerk he could find. The startled witch shrieked and dropped all of her files.
“Oh! It’s you, Senior Undersecretary Weasley!” the witch squeaked as she bent down to pick up her files. “I’m dreadfully sorry - I didn’t see you there.”
“Not at all, not at all,” said Percy, bending down to help her pick up the files. “It was my fault entirely! Please accept my apologies! It’s just... my father wasn’t in his office, and I need to speak with him on a matter of some urgency. Er... you haven’t seen him have you?”
“Oh!” The witch looked surprised. “Didn’t you know then? I thought Arthur had tendered his resignation officially. When I arrived on Monday morning, his office was already cleared out.”
Percy’s face paled, his freckles standing out like flecks of red paint on an otherwise blank canvas.
“So D.M.L.E. Head, Yaxley doesn’t know about this yet either then?”
“If Arthur didn’t resign officially, then I should think not,” said the witch apologetically. “They rarely ever interacted.”
“Bloody hell!” Percy groaned. “The Minister is going to have kittens when she finds out.”
The witch, who had all of her files under one arm again, tried to hide a nervous little giggle at Percy’s choice of words. The Minister was quite well known for her collection of collectible kitten plates.

~o0o~
Draco dusted the ash from his shoulders when he emerged from the green flames in the downstairs parlour of his familiy’s manor. His mother was staring at him with an oddly strained expression on her face.
“Hello Mother,” he said, his tone questioning.
“Why are you home, Draco?” she asked curtly. “Does Severus know you are here?”
“Professor Snape? ... He’s the one who let me come home.” Draco was even more puzzled now. There had been something very odd about Snape too when he had relented and allowed Draco to return home via the floo system.
“He said it was probably safer for me by the Dark Lord’s side than at Hogwarts,” Draco continued. “I’m not sure what he meant, but that’s not really important. Helping the Dark Lord hunt for Potter and his friends - that’s important! He’s here isn’t he? ...the Dark Lord?”
Draco’s mother hesitated, looking... concerned? That didn’t seem quite right. Draco wasn’t sure what his mother’s look meant. Then she nodded.
“Yes! You know where to find him. If it will bring your father home sooner, then by all means, do the Dark Lord’s bidding.”
Not sure what to make of his mother’s cold, ambivalent tone, Draco strode up the marble stairs, making his way to the drawing room on the second floor where the Dark Lord held his court.

~o0o~
Narcissa watched her son climbing the stairs, ice crawling through her veins. Did Severus know something she didn’t? He had promised to look after Draco to the best of his ability. He had promised to take on Draco’s task of killing Dumbledore if it became necessary.
Was that why Severus had allowed Draco to return home? Was Draco really safer hunting for Potter and his friends than staying at Hogwarts? Severus had made the Unbreakable Vow, so he must on some level truly believe it. Perhaps Severus believed that Dumbledore would try and retake Hogwarts at some point - that was the only thing which made sense.
Nonetheless, Narcissa felt uneasy. It may be safer to be hunting for Potter and his friends, but that wasn’t what was really bothering Narcissa anymore - she didn’t like who her son was becoming - but that didn’t seem quite right either, as he was simply becoming more like his father, more self-assured and self-reliant.
Maybe it was she who was changing, and it frightened her.

~o0o~
Remus Lupin swallowed, trying to generate saliva to wet his dry mouth. He gazed around at the largest gathering of werewolves all assembled in one place that he had ever seen, perhaps sixty or seventy in a ramshackle barn somewhere in a sparsely inhabited area of Northumberland.
And they were all waiting to hear what he had to say after the three pack leaders of each of the groups represented by Ben, Max, and Gary had come together earlier that morning and worked out how to go about integrating into one larger unit. It had been quite amazing, really, that the leaders had all agreed so readily.
It was a testament to the inherent decency of all of the leaders and their packs that they were all willing to refuse to join Fenrir Greyback’s werewolf army, including Gary’s pack now that they knew Greyback and Voldemort were aligned with the current Ministry. For Remus’s part, he hadn’t even bothered returning to Maugrim’s pack, knowing he might never get a chance to leave again once Maugrim got wind of this.
Last night Remus had followed Ben back to his pack - the one made up mostly of muggles who had been turned - and had been surprised to find that the leader of Ben’s pack was a witch he vaguely recalled from Hogwarts, a Ravenclaw a year or two ahead of him and James and Sirius.
Remus glanced at the witch beside him, who gave him an encouraging look, and recalled their meeting the night before.

~o0o~
“Abigail, isn’t it? Abigail Spencer?”
“Do I know you?” she asked, shaking Remus’s hand.
“You might not remember me - I was in Gryffindor, a year or two behind you.” Remus smiled wryly.
The werewolf-witch, pretty, with auburn hair, peered at Remus appraisingly for a minute, then she smiled.
“I think I do remember you! Remus Lupin - you hung out with Potter and Black, didn’t you?”
“Guilty as charged,” said Remus, grinning sheepishly. “It would seem that I cannot escape our notoriety.”
“Don’t be sorry on my account,” Abigail retorted. “I thought you and your friends were brilliant!”
“Really?” Remus was honestly surprised. “Even after James got Bertram Aubrey with the Bighead Hex? I wouldn’t have thought many Ravenclaws were too pleased with us after that.”
Abigail laughed. “Oh please! Aubrey had it coming - he was a pompous jackass! ... Thought rather a lot of himself - his brains - being a Pureblood - his family’s wealth. He seemed to think he was a cut above the rest of us. He wasn’t as bad as a Slytherin by any means, but he was still bloody annoying!
“Anyway, I’m a muggleborn. And as far as I’m concerned, you and your friends did us all a favour keeping the Slytherins in check. You were about the only ones in any year willing to take them on.”
“Oh!” Remus raised his eyebrows, the perspective of someone outside his bubble of guilt from his Hogwarts days impacting him in a way that he’d never felt before.
Maybe it was because she had actually been a student at the same time as he, or maybe it was because she was a werewolf. Remus wasn’t quite sure, but either way, Abigail Spencer had given him something to think about.
“So,” he said cautiously, putting his other thoughts aside for the moment, “obviously you weren’t, erm... a werewolf back in our Hogwarts days...”
“It happened after - during the first war,” Abigail offered without any further prodding. “One of Greyback’s pack. I don’t know if I was targeted for being a muggleborn, or just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.” She let out a deep sigh.
“But it happened - why, it doesn’t really make any difference. I dealt with things as best as I could after the war, and ran into a few muggles who had been turned. It made me realise that things could have been even worse for me - being a werewolf without any magical means of protection for most of every month.
“So that’s where I put my focus - trying to help turned muggles survive in the wizard world. I found a few other wizard-werewolves such as Ben - muggleborns themselves - who were more than willing to help.
“And so here we are today, trying to stay out of things just to survive, because the muggle-werewolves don’t stand a chance otherwise. But Ben tells me you have other ideas, and I’m willing to give you a hearing...”

~o0o~
Remus returned from his reverie and found himself sweating. Abigail gave Remus a pat on his arm and smiled at him again, seeing his nervousness.
“You’ll be fine!” she said quietly. “It’s a reasonable plan - if the others go for it. But either way, we’ll support any of the wizard-werewolves who want to fight.”
“Look at me,” said Remus, shaking his head. “I’m a nervous wreck! You’d never know that I’d stood in front of classes at Hogwarts and taught.”
“This is different though,” Abigail pointed out reasonably. “We’re all adults here, and there’s a lot more at stake than making our O.W.L.s.”
Remus nodded and peered out at the sea of faces assembled in the large barn and cleared his throat as Abigail opened the proceedings.
“Alright,” she called out loudly, getting everyone’s attention, “you’ve all met each other - we’ve all agreed to band together - and that’s no mean feat...” There were a few chuckles at that from the crowd.
“Now, a load of the wizards among us want to fight - they don’t want to stay on the sidelines while You-Know-Who and his followers tighten their grip on Britain with the Ministry behind them. And there’s good reason - many of us have families, even if we don’t get to see them as much as we’d like, due to our affliction. ... None of us want to see them murdered, or see them get turned by Greyback’s lot...”
A few murmurs and cries of “hear, hear,” rose from the crowd.
“But not all of us can participate in an open battle with wizards for obvious reasons,” Abigail continued, “and would prefer that more wizards hang back as well, because they’d be sitting ducks otherwise - forced to join Greyback’s pack or die. But Remus Lupin here has an idea that could mean greater defensibility with a minimum number of wizards at our sides...”
“Remus?” Abigail grinned at him, “They’re all yours!”
“Hmm... ahem... Thank you Abigail,” Remus turned and nodded at the assembly. “And thank you all for hearing me out. This may seem a bit of a mad idea - not only to those of us who are wizards, but to those of us who are non-magical. ... After all, except for hobbyists, farmers, fox-hunters, and skeetshooters, guns aren’t something most of us are acquainted with in Britain...”
“Did you say guns?” one voice called out, sounding shocked.
“What use are guns against wizards?” called out another.
“Give ‘im a chance,” said another. “Let ‘im finish.”
“Yes,” said Remus, raising his eyebrows and giving everyone a serious look, “I did say guns - and you’d be surprised at how effective they might be against wizards. To those of you who are wizards, how many times have you had to face anyone with a firearm?”
There were murmurs of, “None,” and, “Certainly not me,” and several shook their heads.
“That’s what I thought,” said Remus. “And indeed, very few British wizards have faced firearms. ... It’s true that shield charms will stop bullets - but never having faced bullets, wizards won’t be expecting them, or know how to effectively counter them strategically. Wizards can’t cast spells and keep their shields up at the same time.
“Like anyone else with a weapon, magical or muggle, wizards will either have to take an offensive position or a defensive position. That makes them just as vulnerable to bullets as any human if they drop their shields and try to attack...”
Remus saw nods and pensive expressions and heard whispers of, “He’s got a point,” and, “I never thought o’ that,” mingled with skeptical looks and whispers of, “I’m not so sure.”
“So, my proposal,” Remus continued, hoping that those who were more positive about the idea would help talk the rest into it, “is that we steal some guns and ammunition from a weapons depot or armory. We’d have to learn how to use them of course, and admittedly, I myself have never used a gun, so that might prove a bit of a challenge at first, but I don’t believe that to be a significant hurdle...”
“I could help with that,” yelled out someone from the crowd. “I used to be in a police tactical support unit...”
“I dunno mate,” said a dubious looking older man, balding, with a grey moustache, “Sounds a bit dodgy to me.”
Another man in the crowd - younger, perhaps in his mid-thirties - stood up and swiveled around to address everyone. “I was S.A.S., and this sounds like a good plan to me - Lupin’s right. This is workable, and what’s more, I know an armory that we could raid...”
“What if we run out of ammunition?” someone asked reasonably.
“That’s not a problem,” said a middle-aged witch. “Any witch or wizard who stays with the muggles should be able to replicate anything with magic - bullets, grenades, whatever we need. We wouldn’t run out...”
More and more people began nodding and agreeing; a buzz of conversation filled the barn. Remus felt some of his tension draining away and glanced hopefully at Abigail. She waited for about fifteen minutes, peering around the barn to assess the general mood; finally, she stepped forward and shouted to get everyone’s attention.
“Alright then, you lot - you’ve had a bit of a chance to discuss this amongst yourselves, so whaddya say we give this a go? Let’s see a show of hands!”
Remus grinned to see hands rising everywhere; the hand vote was nearly unanimous.
“Fantastic!” said Abigail, “The motion passes!”
There were cheers and claps; Remus suddenly found himself trapped in a hug and Abigail gave him a peck on the cheek.
“That was brilliant Remus! Well done! Now all we need to do is organise a raiding party and then begin training.”
“Well, thankfully, it seems like a very Ravenclaw crowd,” Remus quipped, feeling his cheeks growing warmer.
“Maybe! But raiding a muggle military base? ... Seems pretty Gryffindor to me,” Abigail retorted with a wink, nudging him in the ribs.
“Anyway, the hard bit is over,” she said, taking one of Remus’s arms. “Now how about some lunch?”

~o0o~
Harry yawned, feeling loads better, especially with Hermione’s arm curled around him and her messy ringlets tumbling over his shoulder. He glanced at the clock. It was nearly noon, later than it had been the first morning in Number Twelve a few days ago. Killing a horcrux really took it out of him.
He grinned at his still slumbering fiancée and kissed the top of her bushy head. Harry kissed the top of her head again and lay there happily, enjoying the moment. It was after twelve-thirty when Hermione finally stirred. She blinked a few times then beamed at him.
“Still sleepy again, are you? This is getting to be a habit - soon I’ll have to call you Sleeping Beauty!” Harry quipped.
Hermione poked his stomach. “I’ll have you know that I was up at the crack of dawn, Harry James Potter. I just didn’t want to wake you.”
“I know the feeling.” Harry planted a kiss on her forehead. “I’ve been awake for over half an hour and you looked too happy to wake up.”
“Mmm ... Very sweet of you, Harry.” Hermione shifted and gave him a proper kiss.
“So how about some breakfast then?” she said when their lips parted. “You must be famished.”
“You mean lunch don’t you?”
“I’d settle for Brunch.” Hermione gave Harry another peck on the lips.
The covers fell away from Hermione as she clambered out of bed without a stitch on, her midday sunlit bare skin capturing Harry’s rapt gaze. It suddenly struck him that she had forgone wearing a nightie the last three nights in a row and he suddenly felt guilty for wearing pyjamas.
Harry couldn’t believe how far they’d come in just a few months since becoming boyfriend and girlfriend - especially as he had originally thought over the Christmas holidays that it would take her ages and ages to get over things. ... Yeah, he had proposed, and she had accepted. But that had been for the future, and he honestly hadn’t imagined being at this stage with Hermione already, completely at home with one another - maybe next year... or the year after that.
Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry and grabbed his hand, dragging him out of bed.
“Come on lazybones. You can ogle me later - Brunch, remember?”
AN:
@ Source_B: Thank you! I'm happy you enjoyed Moments in Love and are following this story as well. I had reached a point in this story and YTBiD where my Muse told me that I needed to step back for a while and take stock of where the stories were going.
In the meantime my Muse was compelling me to work on a horribly pervy fetish-filled hardcore story for folk who like things a bit less "vanilla." Lol! :D ... And my Muse, she's the boss.
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Damaged Bridges