Harry had been afraid he’d be too distracted by Draco to get much done on his assignment but he was sorely wrong. Draco was used to tutoring the notoriously thick Crabbe and Goyle, he didn’t tolerate idle chit-chat, distractions or daydreams. No matter how much Draco sighed and complained he always made sure Harry was on the right track and would explain anything he wasn’t certain about in the most succinct way humanly possible, the polar opposite to how Hermione went about helping. For all that, once dinner got close, Harry couldn’t have focused a second longer.
“What are you working on?” He asked Draco.
“There’s still ten minutes left,” Draco said, not looking up from his writing.
Harry glanced at the massive potions book and flipped it closed, “I’m halfway done.”
“Not the point.”
Harry rolled his eyes and leaned in a little closer, “The point is that I’m done as I’m going to be. Are you working on the Defense assignment?”
“I’m working right now, if you don’t mind,” Draco said coolly.
Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Draco continued to ‘work’, although Harry was fairly certain he was not 'working’ in the slightest. Harry waited. When Draco went to dip his quill in the ink well, Harry snatched the parchment away.
“Hey-!” Draco grasped after it.
Harry leaned away as far as he could in his chair, reading- Dear Mother, I am speaking with Potter now as you so surmised, but it is nothing of any import. I am not entirely certain of his- and the letter ended there.
“You write mum a lot, don’t you?” Harry said, putting the letter down in front of himself.
“Return it please,” Draco said stiffly, his mouth pursed in a thin line.
Harry took his quill, dipping it fastidiously in the ink, “Ron hardly writes at all and Hermione only writes once a week. Do you write every day?”
“Not every day!” Draco blurted, looking embarrassed and pretending not to be embarrassed in the slightest, “She worries. After everything that happened-” he hesitated, “-She worries is all.”
Harry held the parchment flat and wrote at the bottom in his neatest handwriting, which meant he had to write quite slowly- Mrs Malfoy, this is Harry Potter, I’m doing well. Thanks-
“What are you doing!?” Draco sputtered, grabbing for the paper again.
Harry smacked his hand away, “Saying hi to your mum, since you won’t do it.”
-for asking after me and for everything really. I’ve been getting to know Draco, although he’s being very difficult about it. I hope you are doing well. HP-
“There.” Harry smiled at his handy work, grabbing his wand to seal and protect his message before handing it back to Draco.
“I could just tear it off,” Draco muttered, squinting as he read what Harry wrote, “Start the whole letter over again-” he frowned, “-Merlin, your handwriting is atrocious.”
“It’s legible!” Harry said defensively.
Draco snorted and rolled his eyes, placed the parchment on the neat pile of his other paper and stacked his books atop that.
Harry cast a tempus and saw that dinner had already started, shoving his things haphazardly into his bag.
“Do you always make such a mess?” Draco asked. He held his bag open and with a quick charm, his neat stack of paper and books, filed themselves into his bag just as neatly.
Harry sighed, “Hermione tried to teach me that charm once, never could get the hang of it.”
“Shocking,” Draco muttered sarcastically.
Harry began absentmindedly fussing with the chaotic mess of his bag, not wanting to leave first.
Draco stood, looping his bag over his shoulder. He half turned away, his hand still resting on his chair, “I’m not going to go out tonight, much as I am loath to disrupt your stalking.”
Harry grinned, “Terribly inconvenient, I’ll have to rearrange my schedule entirely.”
Draco paused, his fingers toying absently with the swirls carved into the wood on the back of his chair, “I was- Tomorrow night I might go to the pitch.”
“Might? When?” Harry asked.
“You’re the stalker, you figure it out,” Draco said as he quickly walked past Harry and out of the library.
You’d only given in because you were, unfortunately, alone.
Potions class with Slytherin was the one part of the week you always dreaded. It was one thing to be stuck in a room for an hour with a bunch of Slytherins, but a whole other thing to be stuck in a room for an hour with a bunch of Slytherins and an odd number of fifth year Gryffindors. As a result, you were forced to partner with a random Slytherin in almost every lesson.
My Lovely Assistant- Chapter 3 (Junkenstein Meihem)
“A handshake, mate! A bloody handshake!” Junkenstein dragged his
fingers down his face, digging them into the sallow flesh of his cheeks.
“What was I thinking? I’ll tell you what I was thinking! I wasn’t
thinking! I wasn’t thinking and she’s probably halfway back to China by
now to tell everyone about how I had a lady literally on top of my lap
and I gave her a handshake!”
The Monster responded with a low ‘ghhrrmm’ and that was all.
“Do you think I don’t know that?! I’m blowing a bloody brain gasket
over here. She looked real sad, said something in her gobbledygook, and
then hopped off. Because who could blame her! A handshake?!” He howled
and brought his forehead down into the table with a thunk.
Scarecrow looked around unsurely, its lenses whirring with each little
adjustment, before bringing a long and lanky arm up to pat its master’s
hunched back in a poor pantomime of comfort. Junkenstein pushed it away
brusquely, sending it tipping over to the floor with a straw-filled
“What do you know about fine ladies like her?! Nothing!
And apparently I don’t either!” he snarled, gritting his teeth before
trying to smooth back his wild head of shocked gray hair. Nearly falling
to his death hadn’t phased him very much, but his panicked handshake
and her reaction thereof had nearly shattered his world. In desperation,
he turned to the larger figure across the table, oozing wisps of shadow
as its jack-o-lantern head flickered eerily in the dim candlelight.
“What about you? You’re a keen sort, I bet you got all sorts of advice
for this sort of thing. You ever made it with a lady before you turned
into a pumpkin? Or, were you always a pumpkin? I mean, not that a
pumpkin couldn’t make it with a lady…Wait, could they? Could you? Did
“I don’t even want to be here,” The Reaper replied dryly. “Just give me the new schematics so I can leave.”
Lance rolled over, sighing as he parted his bed curtain to blink at the moonlight that streamed in through the window. He laid back, clasping his hands over his stomach. After a few agonizing moments passed and he wasn’t already asleep, Lance sat up, reaching for the blank piece of parchment that sat on his bedside table. He fumbled around for his wand and a quill, nearly knocking over his ink well in the process. After drawing the crimson velvet closed around him, Lance held his quill in one hand and his wand in the other, whispering, “Lumos.”
In the light shed from the tip of his wand, he wrote at the top of the parchment: You awake?
He bit his lip. The paper was his latest (and only) purchase from Scribbulus’ in Diagon Alley— an enchanted pair of parchment leaves that mirrored whatever was written on the other, and eventually wiped itself clean. The kind of thing that would get you expelled on a Charms test, but was perfect for passing notes across the Castle; in Lance’s case, to the Slytherin dungeon. He just wondered if Keith had forgotten about it, or shoved it into a drawer or-
A messy scrawl appeared: Yeah.
See you there.
A smile pulled across Lance’s face as he carefully put the parchment away and slid out of bed. He clumsily changed out of his pajamas in the dark and tiptoed with his shoes out into the Common Room. As the Fat Lady swung open he winced at her creaking, although more afraid of running into Shiro or Allura on patrol than waking the portrait.
Summary: As Killian settles into the Swan’s castle, he finds no comfort in it’s extravagance, and yearns for more creature comforts. The Swan provides Killian with a few unwanted revelations.
tagging @kmomof4 @the-captains-ayebrows and also @jadeddiva and @artielu even though they didn’t ask because I super enjoy it when they scream at me and also I haven’t watched the episode but from what I understand about the last five minutes, I’m guessing all y’all need something to yell about.
Killian has never had a room for himself. In the cottage near the edge of the forest, there’d been no separate spaces, only a cot by the window where he’d curled up to sleep, and on Silver’s ship he’d closed his eyes and rested to the sounds of a few dozen snoring men, often in the same cot as Liam - even aboard The Jewel he’d refused to let the men think there was any sort of favoritism being played (First Mate status notwithstanding) and he’d kept to the berth there, as well.
The room he finds himself in is sprawling, extravagant, and so large he’s quite certain the Jewel would fit right inside of it.
It’s far too much space.
The door he’d closed behind him is sturdy and thick, with a heavy bolt to bar it shut, and a key besides to lock it up. It’s a small comfort to him, when he’s seen the Swan materialize out of nothing - surely there’s no lock that could keep her out, should she feel the need to be anywhere she pleases - and yet, it feels a bit like a promise. Of some small bit of privacy, at least, or an attempt to set boundaries.
Perhaps it was a peace offering, though Killian couldn’t imagine many of the other Chosen had felt as he did in this moment.
Lily: So, for some reason, James really wanted me to show you what was in my bag? I’m not sure what’s all interesting about it, but I’m done all my homework, so why not? Right now, I’m carrying my Beauty and the Beast purse. It has an extension charm on it. Which definitely comes in handy on days like today…
Lily: I’m not always wearing it. Really only during my rounds.
Lily: What kind of witch would I be if I didn’t have my wand with me at all times?!
Lily: For a boy that can’t see without them, I sure seem to find them laying around a lot.
Lily: The hallways can be bloody loud in between classes. And sometimes it’s the only way to avoid a certain Slytherin…
Lily: Other students think I’m odd for not keeping it in a case. Little do they know that I have a protection charm on it.
Lily: aside from the boys, Marlene and Dorcas. So I tend to keep it in my bag during classes.
Lily: then continues to carry on about his hair being in his face.
Lily: So, of course it’s Lily to the rescue. Those boys would lose their heads if they weren’t attached.
Lily: it’s so hard to find a good red that James won’t complain about getting all over him!
Lily: Because it is bloody impossible to walk about and write when you’re trying to use a quill and ink well, for Merlin’s sake!
Lily: …because… well… he gets uhm… headaches! Yep! And it helps him manage them a little bit better. Keeps him in his right mind…
Lily: Because unless he’s curled up on the couch in the Common Room, I very rarely know where he is. I like to have something for him when we do cross paths on the grounds.
(( OOC: Since there has already been one for Lily, I decided to put a different twist on it and do a Modern Lily :) and of course, a shoutout to @kapitan5o for the whole idea behind this!! ))
Step 1: weed your garden. pick some invasive plants. collect fallen flower petals or leaves. Keep your bouquet of flowers after they die. keep your plant you accidentally killed it.
Step 2: collect them in a bowl. Two large handfuls are a good amount to work with
Step 3: bake. Place your plants in the oven on a cookie sheet covered in tinfoil or do the same in a toaster-oven. Raise the temperature to 200 degrees. Bake for 10 minutes or however long it takes to burn them to a crisp
Step 4: once blackened, pour the charred remains from the tinfoil into a bowl
Step 5: grind them up to a find powder
Step 6: funnel some powder into a small glass jar. Fill it up 2/3 of the way. Store the rest in a separate glass jar
Step 7: drip water into the smaller jar of powder little by little until it is no longer a thick paste. You should end up with black ink
Step 8: stir well. Dip in your quill or fountain pen
This is my first Remus x reader, however I will be posting another one very soon that will most definitely amazing and original. Now I present “Frenemies?” Please leave feedback so I can improve!
It was a beautiful morning. You looked out of the window of the Gryffindor tower girls’ dorms. Over the trees of the forbidden forest you saw the sunrise. The sky was a mix of red and orange, clouds strewn about making it look beautiful.
You got dressed for the day into your robes and went down to the common room. You found the Marauders huddled in the sitting area with Lily. She looked annoyed.
You have never spoken to any of the four unless it was to say their last names in disgust and you didn’t plan on starting a conversation with any of them now. You had a rivalry with Remus so hence you had a rivalry with the rest too. You were both the best students at Hogwarts and he always tried to out-do you.
Once you caught Lily’s eye you pointed to the portrait hole and she stood. The boys looked up and Remus glared at you.
“Hello y/l/n.” Sirius smirked to which you just rolled your eyes and walked with Lily to the portrait.
“Black, Potter, Lupin, Peter.” You sneered annoyed, but said Peter’s name just slightly less annoyed. He didn’t really do anything. He just follows the other three, especially James and Sirius, like a lost puppy
“So why are you hostile to them again?” Lily questioned as they walked to the dining hall.
“Come on Lily you can’t be serious!” You exclaimed. You would’ve thought that she knew since you two were best friends and all.
Lily narrowed her eyes at you before waving her hands in a way to say continue.
“Ugh. He keeps on trying to out-do me Lily. Every time I do something he tries to do it better. I have to be number one in our class. It’s the only way to get my parents’ approval.” You declared as you both sat down.
Lily frowned at you. “You are aware that I try to out-do you too right?” She asked with raised eyebrows. Of course you knew that.
“Well yeah, but you’re my best friend.” You shrugged as you loaded your plate with breakfast.
“So.. why not just become friends with Remus and them? Even I’m friends with them and James is a blithering idiot!” She prompted to which you glared.
“Do not speak their names Lils, that humanizes them.” You retorted with a look of disgust evident on your features.
She rolled her eyes. “Oooo maybe you actually fancy Lupin. I mean you always go for guys with scars.” She reminded and you looked upright appalled at the mere thought of it.
“That is not even close to how I feel towards him. He’s an enemy Lily.” You declared, banging your fist on the table once to get the point across.
“No need to be dramatic, y/n. I was just teasing you.” Lily shrugged looking up as the marauders walked in.
Sirius and James had their wands in hand and no one seemed to care. Remus had his out but was more discreet about it. You saw them all mouth words. Suddenly something poured down on you. They were beetles.
You screamed louder than you ever had in your entire life jumping up and running out, horrified. You were brushing them off of your clothes and out of your hair. You were so close to bursting into tears just from the stress and from the anger that was burning inside of you from the prank.
You ran into an empty classroom that you often sat in during your free period and started to write a note. It was to some guy at Hogwarts, but you didn’t know who. He signed his name with an alias and had mentioned that he made up purely to talk with her. His alias was Riptide. He never gave a reason for the choice though.
You of course had to create an alias in return. You would never give someone your real name when he wouldn’t give you yours. Yours was Flow. He joked of it being a shortened version of Flower or that you created it while you had your monthly flow. You would’ve hit him. You told him no to both guesses and also mentioned that your reasoning was a secret. You named yourself Flow for the conversation because it is the spelling of wolf backwards. Your patronus is a wolf so you named yourself after that.
You two started to leave notes here because you had left a reminder on the cork board saying “Get tamps(or pads if you prefer).” You came back a few days later to find a box(or package) of that same item and a chocolate bar with a note saying: “a gift for the monthly routine -Riptide.” Since then you’ve been leaving notes back and forth to each other.
You got some parchment out along with your ink well and quill. You got your spot and started to write. “Ugh rough day already. I wish I had someone as good as you. It’d be so much easier to get through the day.” You wrote, having to ink up your quill a couple of times.
You pinned it up on the cork board before packing up and leaving for your first class.
I’m deciding to do this in parts so here is your part one! Hope you enjoyed!
Request:Sorry I have os many ideas and they’re all soulmate Au’s related and asnsdg kdfsghsdfkhgkdhk. But like I’m just gonna send in a request rn. Fred Weasley? One where the first words your soulmate says to you is written somewhere on your body. But like what’s written on Fred’s is just a series of cuss words to him lol.
Fred looked down at his arm under the pale yellow ocean of early-morning sunlight. He used to hate the words scripted there; even had them covered by his mother when he was very little. Now he wore them with pride, knowing the one for him was someone he would instantly like.
First official day of school at Hogwarts for the new year, and Fred was up and ready to go. It was his seventh year, and things were looking up. If you counted the overbearing, falsely-friendly Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. The woman clad in pink was already sending Fred on the edge of vomiting.
With his twin George at his side, he started towards their first class of the day after receiving their new schedules.
Of course the last class of the day with with the pink lady. Fred took his time in getting there. He already didn’t like her, so he was in no rush to get to her classroom. A few straggling first-year students scrambled with their papers in hand to find their classes. Fred eventually came to the right class, much to his dismay, and was avoiding entering the room.
“I can’t be late…” A voice from around the corner piqued Fred’s interest, so he trudged along past the door to reach the voice. Before he could find the source, he knocked right into someone coming the opposite direction.
Papers littered the floor, a portable ink well spilled and feather quills rattled on the stone castle stones.
“Fuck! Shitshishit–” It was girl about his age in Y/H, and she looked absolutely flustered as she quickly bunched the lot of papers scattered on the floor together. They were both on the floor, the feet knocked out from under them both. The girl glared at Fred’s dazed expression.
“Thanks for that!” She snapped sarcastically. “Aren’t you going to help clean up the mess you helped me make?”
“R-Right! Merlin, I’m so sorry about that.” Fred moved to his knees in order to gather a few remaining papers and a text book that also seemed to have dropped from the witch’s hands.
The girl paused, looking over Fred’s face.
“Huh…” She vocalized. Fred met her gaze, face heating up once he saw how badly he messed up.
“What?” He forced out. It came out as a whisper. She grinned.
“You’ve had those curse words on your arm your whole life? Merlin, that’s the best thing I’ve ever seen!” She giggled, pointing at Fred’s rolled up sleeves. Fred’s blush deepened.
“I’m glad you like them. They are your words, after all.” He made it known finally. The girl climbed to her feet slowly, reaching out a hand to assist Fred up from the ground.
“I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”
“Fred Weasley. Trust me, I know you and your brother. Best pranksters to ever attend Hogwarts, so I’m told.”
“You like pranks?” Fred’s face brightened. He was liking her already.
“Of course. The planning, the drive to get it done. Very admirable work.” Oh yes, she was perfect. Fred smirked at the girl, looking her directly in her sparkling eyes.
“Glad my reputation precedes me. Lovely to make your acquaintance finally, my dear Y/N.” Fred gave a dramatic low bow to his assumed soulmate.
“Doing anything right now?” Y/N asked after she curtsied.
“Heading to class, I guess.” Fred complained. Y/N rolled her eyes, smiling slyly up at Fred.
“So…nothing? Great. We should take a stroll outside. Perfect weather for a meet-and-greet, don’t you think, Freddie?” She hinted, raising an eyebrow at the ginger Gryffindor. Fred was surprised, yet delighted, by her forwardness.
“If given the chance to break the rules–with a pretty girl, might I add–I just may have to take your offer.” Fred held out an arm to link around Y/N’s. The girl proudly lifted her head, shifting the bag on her shoulder.
“I love the way this is headed.”
“As do I. I’m so glad to have met you, Y/N.”
“Don’t get sappy on me, Weasley, we met only minutes ago! You have a reputation to maintain.” Y/N, stood on her tiptoes to peck Fred’s cheek sweetly. “But I am glad to meet you too.”
Fred’s grin widened from ear to ear. He and Y/N took to the courtyard, sharing stories and basking in each other's’ company. He couldn’t wait to tell George.
The Astronomy tower was quiet,
nothing but the sound of a light wind could be heard. This
is how Y/N liked it, a cold brooding quiet that opened up so many possibilities
for the night ahead. She could read a book, do some homework or just stare out
into the vast darkness that was laid out in front of her. There were no boundaries,
no rules, no one to tell her any different. With all of these possibilities,
there was one that hadn’t crossed her mind, and this one went by the name of
I found this letter when clearing out my great-grandmother’s attic in Lancaster. From what I’ve been told, my great-grandmother was a very strange and eerie woman so I’m not certain she didn’t write this herself just to freak someone out from beyond the grave. But it was hidden under a floorboard with a dozen old photographs and letters of equally strange contents…so maybe it was hidden for a reason? I transcribed it with difficulty; the cursive was really hard to read and people back then were really wordy. It’s really disturbing. Maybe someone out there can confirm or deny its legitimacy:
To my dearest and well-respected brother, Wilhelm, or any other unlucky soul,
It is my sincerest hope, for your personal safety and precious sanity, that you are not indeed reading this letter. It is far better for you to think me missing in some unknown country or lost at sea in its tumultuous waters. For if you are indeed perusing my residual musings in my notes and ledgers, you are in the warped place I once stood in fear, sat in hushed contemplation, and slept in silent resignation. If so, I implore you with heartfelt convictions to leave this place before the dimensions and space begin to warp and twist, tricking you into prolonging your stay here.
Perhaps by some lucky happenstance this letter has been brought to you. Perhaps the proprietress of this miniscule and unsightly boarding room will have discovered the space to be back to its original form and finding me missing will have taken the envelope I nailed to the wall with a tack from my shoe. Perhaps then it will be safe for you to study its contents but I have reservations that you will comprehend its truth.
Summary: Written for the ever-lovely @effacelaciel as a very belated birthday present. Though, in my defense, I hadn’t known it was his birthday until after his birthday, so. Prompt being: ‘confession at a cherry blossom festival’ and ‘dumb boys being dumb’.
It started with a treaty.
Speeches were made, documents were signed, peace was achieved.
I’ve always wanted to do an item page. I’ve seen them all over and I think they’re awesome. This also let me practice digital painting and colored outlines. Here are the items on the page and what games they connect to:
The bullet that hit Ezio (Brotherhood), Haytham’s Amulet (3), Templar Ring (1, 3, Rogue), Doubloon (Black Flag), Bottles and vials (Plague Doctors/Leonardo from 2), Rope Dart (3 and Rogue), a Cockade ribbon (Unity), rabbit’s foot (3, Rogue, Black Flag), Ezio’s Carnival Mask (2), Templar Cross (Forsaken, Rogue, Unity), letter for Elise’s father (Unity), quill and ink well (3 and Forsaken), brown feather (2 and 3), a key (misc.), and The Apple of Eden (all).
I tried to include most of the games and touch on important objects that hold really special messages.
A micro-fic (under 400 words) that popped into my head surrounding Jamie’s interpretation of Valentine’s Day. I know it’s about 6 weeks too early but I wanted to write it and post it now! Happy New Year everyone! xx
Jamie dipped the
quill into the ink well and pulled it out again, watching the excess
drops fall back into the bottle. He bit his lower lip and
contemplated what he wanted to say in the letter.
The celebration of
St Valentine was something Roger had assured him women of Claire’s
time took most seriously. She had never mentioned it to him, but then
he had seen the lass ride into the midst of a battle camp, half
starved and half mad with worry and yet not say a word about it.
Jamie snorted and
moved the tip of the quill to hover above the parchment
My dearest stoic
that sounded like he was teasing her.
My dearest Claire
that was too formal.
laid the quill down and stood, pacing to the window, the fingers of his left hand drumming against the muscle of his thigh. He could see
Claire in the garden, her hair being pulled gently this way and that
by the breeze and the cotton neckerchief she wore against the
February chill fluttered beside her ear, as if she were a flower and
it was a fat blue hummingbird intent on gathering the very last drop
of her sweet nectar.
cleared his throat and dropped his chin to his chest, blushing
despite his blood rushing in the opposite direction of his face.
had once punched his uncle and burnt his Grandsire’s wooden teeth
for the insult of calling Claire ‘Mistress Honey-lips’ and even
near thirty years on, he considered his action to be right but there
was something about his Sassenach that made men forget themselves and
become something more akin to a beast.
drew the thick curtain closed and return to his desk, now draped in
My study. Now, if
was a frivolous use of parchment but Jamie grinned to himself as he
strode toward the door.
called, handing the little chap the note and a penny with it.
this note to ye Grannie please, she’s in her wee herb garden. Then
go and feed the chickens.”
waited until he heard Jem happily calling out to Claire and then
removed his cravat and untucked his shirt, loosening the stays of his
breeks. It would take Jem perhaps fifteen minutes to feed the chooks,
enough time to honour both his wife and the demands of St. Valentine’s honour
– God bless the ancient man’s soul!
As Tideguard sat at her desk, quill in hand and ink dripping back into the well of black liquid she thought carefully over her words. This was the first of many letters to be sent out this evening, but despite the others that addressed matters of violence, this one held a closer point to the woman’s heart. After minutes of deliberation she scraped the quill against the rim of the inkwell and began writing.
As it may have come to your attention, or may have slipped, we are again at the yearly event known as Children’s Week. A time where for seven days the people of Stormwind and neighboring governance recognize there are more left in the wake of war than just those that fight along the front-lines, before going back to indifference. To get to my point then, I would like to take this time to met out an act of charity to these less fortunate through means that I believe would benefit both parties. The orphan matrons do what they can, but healthcare is not something of import when it comes between medicine, and food, while I can not blame them in this regard, fevers, untreated wounds, and other illnesses run amok between the cramped quarters of these orphanages.
I would like to employ a day where any and all adventurers, good-natured, and kind individuals that take in one of these children may bring them to our store for either free, or discounted service to see them treated. If this is not agreeable, I would gladly see the costs covered myself for those that can not afford it. At the end of this though from a purely business standpoint there is no down side, the children are cared for, you appear a caring and giving businessman, and our storefront gains a positive reputation that gives of itself to the community. I do hope you will consider this as I know regardless of the choice I will be seeing to it as many as possible are able to be cared for myself.
Cupping her hand around her mouth she stared blankly at the page, it seemed a fine proposition, hopefully the Director would see it that way as well. After rolling the parchment she poured a glob of heated wax onto the center and stamped it with her seal. Now, on to the rest of the letters then I’ll see this delivered.