Harry Potter and the Year of Revelations | By : zeldaofarel Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 7848 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
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Chapter 7: Acquiring Knowledge
Harry woke on Monday morning feeling happy about the new Keeper. Sure, she was ugly, but when she had to protect Gryffindor's hoops, it wouldn't matter. Ron had said that maybe she would scare off the Bludgers. Hermione hit him for this. Harry only snickered.
The morning passed as usual and they chatted happily at the breakfast table after having been greeted by Oya. However, when Harry happened to glance up to the teachers' table, he noticed a stranger sitting there. He brought the man to the attention of the others as well.
"Oh my!" was Hermione's first reaction.
The boys gave her a look for it. She didn't notice them, she just kept staring at the man.
Harry looked at him and tried to figure out what made her react that way and gave her eyes the twinkle he hadn't seen since Lockhart. He was blond and blue-eyed, with his hair cut short and spiky. His face did have smooth features, a smiling mouth. His body was lean and even sitting he was tall. Harry decided that the man did look like the kind that women usually considered handsome.
"Who do you think he could be?" Harry asked his friends.
"He's probably connected to Professor Flitwick," Hermione said, not taking her eyes off him, "he's chatting with him after all."
"What's odd is that he's older and is sitting up there, but he's wearing student robes," Ron observed.
They all fell silent, looking at each other to say something. When no one had spoken for a while, Harry and Ron started to talk about the Quidditch book for captains. Hermione just kept looking at the man, seemingly mesmerised by him, finding it hard to eat at the same time. She kept missing the food on her plate with the fork and drank from an empty goblet for a couple of second, before noticing that there wasn’t any juice flowing into her mouth.
After some self-discovery and revision in DADA, they returned to the Gryffindor table to have lunch. Soon the twins joined them, clearly having some news. Hermione managed to tear herself away from the blond man in order to acknowledge their presence.
"What is it?" Ron asked them.
"Well, this morning we had Charms. That mysterious blond chap was there too," George informed them.
Hermione looked up at this, clearly anxious to hear what the boys were talking about.
"He's a student teacher," George went on. "He's here to learn how to teach charms. He sat behind us and stared at our necks Creepy."
"Oh, his name is Regis Niemi," Fred pepped in.
They beamed at the little gossip they knew.
"Do you know anything more about him?" Hermione asked when they became silent.
"He did mention that he was Finnish, but his mother was an English witch." Fred furrowed his brow, trying to remember more.
"That's not much." Hermione was clearly not satisfied, her face fell so. So she turned her eyes back on the handsome blond wizard.
The boys looked at each other and rolled their eyes. Clearly another Lockhart was in sight.
On Thursday evening Harry and Isabelle met again in the Common Room. By this time she seemed more at ease in his presence. She took off her slippers, revealing small white feet with long toes, and folded her legs under her. Harry had also grown accustomed to her and enjoyed discussing his day and life with her. This time he wanted to talk about what happened at Charms that morning.
"What did you think of Charms today?" he asked her casually.
"You mean, what did I think of Regis Niemi?" she looked at him with a sly smile.
"Well, yes,“ Harry admitted. “You seem to be good at judging people's characters at first sight. Did you try to capture his eyes in yours?" Harry was listening closely, not taking his eyes off her. As usual, she avoided looking at him and decided to observe the fire.
"I did try, but he kept looking away. I didn't like that. I didn't like him either." Her hands moved nervously in her lap.
"You seem to be the only girl with that opinion," he pointed out.
"I know. I've seen the way they were all drooling over him. However, there's something about him … I can't really tell what it is, but I don't like him." She seemed very sure in her opinion.
"Hermione does."
"Jealous?" she smiled.
"Why would I be?" He was surprised.
"Because of Hermione. She's pretty, clever and charming. A great friend too. I may not talk to people, but I listen. Many of them are convinced that there is something more going on between you two." She fell silent, looking into his face. The moment felt tense.
"Oh, well, they're wrong. Just as you've said. She's a great friend, but I don't have romantic feelings towards her." He put a stress on 'romantic'.
"Then you still have that crush on Cho?" Her voice was quiet, a bit scared. Perhaps of the answer?
"No, I'm past that. I was with her boyfriend when he died. That kind of … put an end to that. I don't feel that way towards anyone now."
She seemed a bit relieved at that. Or had just Harry imagined it?
"Well, that is bound to change." She bit her lower lip and looked at her hands.
"Are you talking about the cards?" He wondered where this conversation was going. She seemed to care a lot about his love life, well beyond the level of a usual friendship. He felt excited about that, but forced it down.
"Not just that. You're fifteen. It's time for you to have your first relationship. Besides, you're more mature than most boys of your age." She smiled a bit and dared a side-glance at him, but averted her eyes as they met his.
"I don't think I should. My life is too complicated even without a relationship." His voice rang a bit uncertain.
"Harry, if you find someone you can love, then in a way that can make things easier. It can make you happy. Besides, according to the cards, love is at your doorstep and you already know the girl. Perhaps you'll change your mind about Hermione." She sounded anxious to convince him, really concerned.
"I don't think so. You believe in the cards so much?"
Isabelle smiled a little at that.
"Well, they haven't failed me so far. I was quite surprised when they said friendship was on its way for me. Look at us! They were right," she looked into his eyes, but quickly broke away.
"We'll see," he said uncertainly. A trail of thought began in his head about who the cards could have spoken about, but he quickly broke it. Neither of them needed that.
"Hmmm, Harry, I've heard Hermione say that she had written a letter to Krum," she said.
"Yes. No reply so far." He was strangely glad that they had changed the subject. He had started to feel odd, as if they were both struggling to keep something away from the surface.
"Did Krum try to establish a romantic relationship with her?" Isabelle enquired quickly.
"He did. However, she turned him down and proposed friendship."
"Has she heard from him since then?"
"No. You seem worried about Hermione."
"She's your friend and seems like a nice person. I don't want her to get hurt either physically or emotionally." Harry could feel that there was something left unsaid in that statement. He thought of asking her what she was hiding, but decided not to push it.
"I think you'd be great friends if you got the chance. I see you don't agree with your family's opinion on Muggle-borns." He smiled about the fact that she was different from her brother, remembering the first time Draco Malfoy called Hermione 'mudblood'.
"I don't. I really never could understand why someone would be superior just because he or she was born into a Wizarding family. Look at Hermione! She's a powerful witch and a Muggle-born." She glanced at him and smiled brightly.
"Hmm. I think Hermione likes blond guys," Harry stated.
"Why?" she looked surprised at his statement.
"Lockhart was blond and now this Naomi, or whatever, is blond as well."
"That doesn't mean that she prefers blonds. Women usually see the whole man, not just the hair colour," she sounded a bit offended at that, as if Harry had insulted her.
"Oh, all right. I suppose I don't really know how girls think, or women." He felt awful.
"Tell me more about Lockhart," she said it with a small smile, clearly anticipating a good story.
Harry did, relieved that she wasn't mad at him and they delved into the past once more.
The coming weeks passed in a comfortable routine for Harry. He went to classes, did homework, played with Ron and Hermione. Every night he talked to Isabelle, then practised a bit of wandless magic alone and went to sleep with the help of the potion. They often held Quidditch practices. Keaira kept up her good form, Ron got better at chasing. The reserves learned to play with the other members of the team and Harry was glad to see them progress well. However, he was making no progress himself. He wasn't doing any better at wandless magic in spite of all the trying. This frustrated him, but Oya kept telling him not to worry and go on trying. During this time the only thing to break the monotony was a strange behaviour; Keaira's. Wherever Harry went, she kept popping up. Once he had to send her to bed by referring to Quidditch, because he was waiting for Isabelle.
October came and one day over his DADA homework Harry decided to look a bit more into the people he had recently met, even though that wasn’t the real assignment. This was something that Oya encouraged. So he started with her. Oya, at present, was a nice woman. She was very vivid, very alive. Since her excursion to the Muggle world she was passionate about all sorts of Muggle things. Oya was very open about herself and about sex. Sometimes disturbingly so. Once she admitted to them during class that she revealed so much of herself, so that they could really know what a Death Eater could be like. However, she did keep a couple of secrets, which were more interesting in the light of her personality. They still hadn't got any closer to finding out who Ares was. She was always nice to all of the students and wasn't fazed by Fred's and George's antics. She seemed to have even softened towards Snape, because they could be seen talking during dinner one night. After that the Potions lessons improved as well. That was all Harry could recall about her.
The second person he put under the magnifying glass was Isabelle. Now she was a private matter. She was as good a student as Hermione, even a bit better due to her unusual talent for Potions. Of course, during the day she was always reading. If not a textbook, then some other educational book. She was always quiet, never said a word to anyone, unless asked and only the teachers ever did. She sometimes talked to Draco on the corridors, but only briefly. At night she was a bit more alive, but still reserved. When compared with Oya; they were opposites. Where Oya talked a lot very animatedly, Isabelle just said what had to be and hardly made a move. She did get more relaxed around Harry, but it was only shown by her smile and posture. She was clever and knew a lot. She avoided talking about herself, which was strange. Harry discovered that all he knew about her feelings was that she liked him, Potions, studying, feared her father and hated Voldemort, but didn't really fear him. She once said that she wanted his downfall and if she feared him, it would stop her from helping it. That was a bit of an odd statement and he didn’t quite understand what she had meant by it. However, she couldn't help fearing her father, because he held her life directly in his hands.
The third new person in his life was Keaira. She was a shy little girl, but very confident on the Quidditch field. He couldn't really understand why she was following him around and this disturbed him. Harry had tried asking her about it, but she pretended not to understand. Otherwise he didn't know much about her as a person.
The fourth person was Regis in a way. He didn't have much to do with Harry or his classes. He just helped sometimes with practical things during the Charms lessons, so that they could get more done in the set four hours. However, the love-struck girls were still swooning over him. Harry saw Hermione talk with him, but she said that they only discussed school. From the way she said it, there seemed to be something more behind it. Once she even had a private lesson with Regis, which was uncommon and odd. Harry didn't like the man at all. He was too sleek.
It was early in the evening on October 10th and Harry tried wandless magic in the dormitory for one uptenth time. No one had chosen to retire yet and he felt anxious to do it already. So he drew the curtains around his bed to get a little privacy. He tried to relax. He concentrated on his magic as he stretched out his hand towards a sock. Then he felt it. The magic stirred inside him and he managed to lead it towards his hand, then out of it. He saw with his mind's eye the sock in front of him lift up into the air and surprisingly the real one followed suit. He suddenly got so excited that he dropped it back on the bed. He tried again and this time it all happened much faster, much more easily. He couldn't believe that after all that trying he finally managed to do it. He just had to tell it to Aunt Oya right away. He got onto his feet and took out the Marauders' Map from his trunk. He performed the magic with his wand this time and searched for a dot labelled "Oya Potter". He did find it. She was walking down a corridor not far from her office. As he watched, he noticed that she wasn't heading towards it, but away from it. He took the invisibility cloak out as well, in case he stayed late and with the help of the map set out to follow her.
After some chasing he finally neared her just as she walked into Snape's office. He stopped there, not wanting to go inside and disturb them. He thought of leaving, but his curiosity kept him there.
"Oya, what are you doing here?" came Snape's gentle voice from the office.
"I wanted to talk about last night," was her answer.
"You want to continue from where we left off?"
"No, Severus. I think it was a mistake." She sounded agitated.
"I think that it was wonderful. Just like old times. The kisses, the hugs, the heat of your body. …. Don't you want to feel like that again?" Harry was again taken aback by how seductive Snape's voice could be if he wanted it. He also felt himself blush at his words.
"Last night for me wasn't about you. It was about Ares. I felt alone and miserable. I wanted to share my pain with the only person who knows the meaning of October 9th, the tragedy of that anniversary. It was about that for me, nothing else. I was hurting to my core and I wanted some comforting," she sounded anxious, confused and sad at the same time.
Harry was excited that the conversation was turning to Ares. Maybe now he would find out the truth about the guy.
"Oya, you know that I want to be together with you again," he was pleading.
"I don't. Severus, we've been through this once."
"For Ares' memory?"
"Don't use him like this!” she cried. “He was the only pure thing in my life. He was my son and I loved him like no one else before or after." She was mad and sad at the same time.
"He was my son too." Harry barely heard that statement, but he felt struck by a lightning when he did.
"Yes, but you don't act like it. Even then you wanted to continue the lie that was our relationship. After he died, everything changed. He died because of me, I know it. The way I was … It is true, everything comes back three times. I killed, Severus! We both did. For that we had to pay with the life of our son. When he died, everything between us died too!" there were tears and fury in her voice.
"Oya…" he began, but Harry could see on the map that she was heading towards the open door of the office. He quickly put the invisibility cloak on and Oya rushed right past him. He looked inside and saw Snape standing there, utterly bewildered.
Harry again found himself feeling sorry for him, but as quietly as he could, he left. He saw Oya heading towards her office and followed her. On a corridor he took off the cloak and put it back in his pocket. When he reached her office, he knocked on the door. It took her a while to open it. When he saw her, he felt very awful. Her eyes were puffy from crying and she really looked out-of-sorts.
"Oh, hi Harry. What is it? Oh, I … come in," she was stuttering, which was very unusual for her.
"I just wanted to tell you some good news. Maybe I should come back later?" Harry looked uncertainly at her. She noticed and seemed to straighten her spine, to look more confident.
"No, I could use some good news." She swallowed her tears.
"Hmm. Are you all right?" he asked as he entered the office.
"No, but if I talk about it, I'll start crying again. So you ought to tell the good news." She closed the door behind him.
"All right, however, I'd rather show you."
Harry took out his wand and placed it on the fountain. He stepped to the desk and concentrated on the picture sitting there, his hand stretched towards it. It slowly, but surely, rose into the air, then it gently landed back in its place. When he was finished, Harry looked at Oya. She was clearly amazed, then she rushed to him and hugged him.
"You did it! That's so wonderful! I can't believe that you've finally done it! I mean, I knew you could!" she looked excited as she broke away from him. The tears were gone.
"What should I do now?" Harry looked questioningly at his aunt.
"Well, I think you should try other spells the same way that we have done with this one. What is another spell that you're good at?" She turned away from him, taking out a handkerchief and then blew her nose. She looked back at him and smiled.
"Accio. I used that during the Triwizard Tournament. It took me a while to learn."
"All right, there's a pillow on the couch. Make it fly into your hand." She pointed at one of the soft pillows.
"But how?" Harry was puzzled, he still knew so little about the practical side of wandless magic.
"Simple. You concentrate on the pillow, direct your magic towards it and make it fly to you. It's a lot like Wingardium Leviosa." She threw her hands up in the air, indicating how easy it was.
Harry did it just as Oya told him and the pillow nearly knocked him over. Oya laughed a little and he was glad to see the old light back in her eyes.
"Not with such force, Harry! You see, with this training, your magic can reach its full potential."
"Really? I'm not that good at spells." Harry was amazed. Could he be better at magic, than what he was doing during the normal classes?
"You just need a different technique. Now, try it with your eyes closed."
Harry looked perplexed.
"How?"
"You just need to see the pillow inside. During the Tournament, did you see the object that you made come to you?" She cocked an eyebrow.
"No. I just said the words."
"What was it?"
"My Firebolt."
"Oh, you have a Firebolt?" Her eyes lit up.
"Yes."
"How did you get such a wonderful broom? I saw it in Diagon Alley when I got some new robes there and books." She was genuinely excited about the broom.
"Oh, my godfather got it for me."
"Sirius? You like him?" She looked genuinely startled.
"Yes, a lot."
She said nothing, just smiled for a brief moment and then her face got serious again.
"Let's get back to business. Where was your Firebolt?"
"In my dormitory."
"All right, now recall when you did that and do the same thing with the pillow while your eyes are closed," she instructed.
Harry remembered and stretched his arm towards the pillow, his eyes closed. He also tried to do it more gently this time. The pillow flew to him just as he wanted.
"You see Harry, the magic is at your will now. Let's try more spells." She was almost hopping with joy and enthusiasm. Harry almost laughed at her girlish manner.
They did wandless magic, until they were so tired, neither of them could concentrate anymore.
"Let's stop, Harry," Oya suggested, clearly exhausted, but smiling brightly. She sat down on the couch.
"I am tired. Aunt Oya, when will we learn transfiguration? Is that even possible without a wand?" He sat down next to her and looked into her eyes. She looked back.
"Yes it is. It's just very complicated. …. When you're able to do a Patronus without a wand, we'll move onto transfiguration. …. Because then you have to delve into the very structure of the thing with your magic." She was panting a bit.
"Oh. Ok. Can I use wandless magic in class?"
"No, Harry. Just like me, you'd better not advertise this. Remember, the secret weapon."
"All right." He was a bit disappointed, though as he thought of it, some people would call him names if he did. "When I'm able to do transfigurations, what will we do?"
"We'll move onto mind magic. It's what I did with the picture on our first night, remember?"
Harry thought back and could recall the picture floating to Oya without her even looking at it or changing her posture.
"That looked very hard."
"It is. However, you've taken a great first step tonight and rather fast. It took me two weeks of almost non-stop trying and I couldn't concentrate for long." She smiled and Harry could see that she was somewhere else in her mind. "Elias often said that if I wasn't so stubborn in wanting to learn it, I never would have. I wonder how he is. I'll owl him. Anyway, I'm sure you'll get the hang of it. Then we'll start on the special spells."
"Special spells?"
"Yes, Harry." She got very serious and made him look into her eyes. She was a bit taller even sitting, than he was. "You can't tell about them to anyone. Friends, Dumbledore, no one. The old guy would take my head if he knew I wanted to teach you those spells. However, I think you might need them. Things like elemental magic, which can only be done by hand, or sun and moon magic. There are things that require mind magic." She seemed a bit nervous to be talking about it.
"Is it dark magic?" He was getting very curious.
"It depends on how you use it.” She had clearly thought about the matter much. “In my opinion, the term 'dark magic' is wrong. For example, if you use the Avada Kedavra to kill Voldemort, you're not doing a bad thing, are you?"
"Well, … I don't really know." Harry put his hand to his chin, thinking about it for a moment.
"You would only be doing a great service to the world. I would gladly do it. At least I would make amends for…" She looked away and Harry could see that she was biting her lower lip. "However, that is probably still a long way off. I'd wager about two years, depending on how well you proceed. You'd better go back. …. It's getting awfully late!" She looked at her watch. "How will you get back to your Common Room? Should I walk with you?"
"No, I'll use my invisibility cloak." He smiled and took it out from under his robe.
"The invisibility cloak? James'?" Harry nodded. She took it from his hands and lovingly caressed it a bit. "Where has it been all these years?"
"Dumbledore had it. He gave it to me on my first Christmas here."
"Oh, that reminds me. Do you have a Hogsmeade permit?" She gave him back the cloak.
"Yes I do."
"I thought your aunt and uncle wouldn't sign it." Oya was surprised.
"They didn't, but Sirius did."
"That was all right?"
"Yes. He's my godfather and Dumbledore knew about him anyway."
"Sirius. I wonder how he is now. I haven't met him for years. The last time we met I was packing my bags … or actually, I was wearing a hood. The last time I saw him I was wearing a Death Eater's hood and he was fighting one of my colleagues." She looked in front of her, clearly feeling awful about it.
"I met him last month. He looked fine, though I have no idea where he lives now. He also sent me a birthday present." He decided to move the conversation a bit away from where it was going.
"He did? What did he send you?" There she was, smiling again.
"A magical stone." Harry took it out from under his shirt. "And also a … book."
"About what?"
"Well…," he reminded himself that she was very open about sex. "It's about sex and girls and boys." He blushed.
"Oh, I'm glad he thought of that. I was afraid I'd have to do it. Is it a good book?" She gave him a huge sly smile.
"He said it was. He also made some notes."
"You'd better read those notes well. Remember that he was quite a Don Juan in school. I would sure like to meet him. …. I'll tell Dumbledore to warn me if he comes again. But I am keeping you up. Go now, before we start on another subject." She stood up and he did as well. They both walked to the door and she opened it for him.
"Bye Aunt Oya!"
"Bye Harry!" She playfully ruffled his hair a bit. Harry didn’t make a more to straighten it, as he new it was futile.
It was late, about ten o'clock and Harry rushed to the Common Room under his invisibility cloak. Isabelle was already there, waiting for him. Her eyes rounded as she saw him come through the portrait.
"Harry! What were you doing out so late? You could have been caught." She seemed really concerned.
"No, I have an invisibility cloak. I only took it off a second ago." He sat down next to her on the couch. She seemed surprise at the mentioning of an invisibility cloak. He noticed that she was wearing a red night-gown under the green robes.
"What were you doing out so late?" she asked him.
"Wandless magic. I finally did it. Oya and I were doing different spells just by hand. I could do all of them." He was so happy and so glad to share this information with her.
"Oh, Harry! I'm so glad! How did it happen?" Her smile widened and her eyes twinkled in an unusually merry way.
"I don't know. I just suddenly felt it. Just like Aunt Oya had said."
"She seems like a clever woman. Glad she's on the side of the good now." She cocked her head to the side and looked into his eyes just for a glance.
"Oh, I've found out who Ares was!" He almost jumped in his joy at finally knowing this secret.
"You did? Who was he?" She looked very excited.
"You wouldn't believe it. He was Aunt Oya's and Snape's son!"
Her eyes and mouth widened. She looked astonished at him.
"I would have never guessed! She had a son?"
"Yes, she did."
"How did you find this out?" She turned her whole body to him and was looking at him. One arm was on the back of the couch and she almost touched him. He was all too aware of the closeness of her small hand.
"Well, I overheard another conversation between Oya and Snape," he recalled overhearing only a little while before.
"You've been eavesdropping again?" He cringed a little at the word.
"Yes. …. I don't want to have secrets around me. They keep getting me in trouble."
"They do. …. Did you find out how he died?" He could see that she was thinking about the meaning of this new information.
"No, but Aunt Oya blames herself for it. It's somehow connected to her being a Death Eater."
"How?" She looked at him in interest.
"I don't know. She seemed very … upset."
"No wonder. …. Loosing a child, … a son. It must have been awful. Maybe her son was somehow caught up her Death Eater activities and that's how he died. …. How old was he?"
"I really have no idea. I only know that he died some years ago on October 9th." He wished he had more information.
"What exactly did you overhear?" Her eyes narrowed.
"Well, she was talking to Snape. They were discussing something that happened last night. Think they …," he blushed, "had sex."
"Oh." Isabelle looked down. Harry expected to see her blush, but she clearly wasn’t. Instead, her face was grave.
"Oya told him that she didn't want it to happen again. I saw his face and he looked heartbroken. I think he really loves her."
"It must be awful to love someone and not be loved back," her voice was very sad and again, Harry felt a double meaning in her words. She often spoke like that, referring to someone else in a way that made Harry suspect that she was talking about herself.
"I feel genuinely sorry for poor Professor Snape," she said after a pause.
"Isabelle, do you have permission to go to Hogsmeade?" he asked out of the blue, before he would have the chance to think again.
"Yes, I do."
"Have you seen the sign? The first visit of the year will be on October 28th," he told her with excitement.
"I've seen it. Will you go with your friends?" Harry saw that she tried to remain passive about it, when everyone was very excited ever since the sign was put up.
"No, I was thinking of spending the day with you." He was clearly nervous, with his eyes round and his mouth twisting in an interesting manner.
"Me?" Isabelle looked puzzled, but happy. "Why?"
"You're my friend and we only have an opportunity to meet at night."
"How could we? People would see us." Her smile disappeared.
"Quite simple. I know of a secret cave near Hogsmeade. I could lead you there under my invisibility cloak. Then there we could talk and do whatever we want. Maybe play something."
"Sounds good. What if I get some food from the kitchen? We could have a picnic." She started gesturing in a very odd manner. It was unlikely of her and Harry realised that she forgot the reality of her life for a little while.
"Great!"
"Then it's a date." She almost jumped while sitting. Then she unsuccessfully stifled a yawn. When her hand returned to the back of the couch it accidentally brushed his shoulder. He felt an odd jolt run through his body.
"It's getting very late, Isabelle. Let's go to sleep." He found himself breathless.
"All right. Sorry," she apologized. Harry wondered at exactly what.
"Good night, Isabelle."
"Good night, Harry." Isabelle stood up and looked down at him. He looked up and saw the fire around her that made her skin glow. She looked like a dark fairy. He was struck by her whole being.
She went up the stairs first and Harry suddenly wished it was October 28th already. Then in his head he could hear her say "date" and he almost skipped up the stairs. Things from Sirius' book came to his mind and he blushed again.
To be continued …
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