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Author: St Margarets Story: The New Zealand Chronicles Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-DH Status: Completed Reviews: 22 Words: 170,671
She started to hop down from the high table, but Healer Welby put a restraining hand on her arm. “Why don’t we bring your husband in, hmm?” Harry. She almost wept with relief. Harry would make them understand. Harry would tell them how she had fought sharks and had kept both of them from being swept out to sea. She should mention Healer Jones, too. Healer Welby must know him. “Harry!” Ginny said as soon as he entered the examination room, looking pale and worried. “Tell them what I did while we were on-board ship. Tell them what Healer Jones said!” But Harry only took her hand and squeezed it. “Mrs. Potter,” the Healer named Sylvia said, “I don’t think you understand. This isn’t a matter of your ability to do the course. This is a matter of your health.” “What do you mean?” Harry asked, tightening his grip on her hand. “I thought Ginny was healed.” “She is healed,” Healer Welby assured him. “From a grievous injury. But until she’s stronger, she runs the risk of injuring herself again.” Healer Welby then went on to explain how Ginny’s initial injury was bad enough – but that being impaled by a broom was very dangerous since it was a magical object loaded with charms. Those charms had contaminated and then weakened her entire abdominal cavity so that any strenuous magic would further strain her internal organs. “But I lifted sharks out of the water!” Ginny protested. “I was fine!” “Were you?” Healer Welby asked with a piercing stare. “No pain at all?” Since she had ached for days afterwards, she couldn’t deny it. “I had pain,” she admitted. “But I thought –” Harry began. He pushed up his glasses with his free hand. “I mean, they never –” He frowned at Ginny. “What did they say at St. Mungo’s after you had that pain this summer?” “They –” Ginny stared back at him. What had they said? “They were just keen that I didn’t become pregnant. I told them I was getting married, of course, and –” “Did you tell them you were going to do this course?” Sylvia asked sharply. “I said I was going to do a course,” Ginny answered faintly. “But I don’t know if I specified Search and Rescue.” “I’m glad to hear that, at least,” Sylvia said. “I was worried that St. Mungo’s was being grossly negligent in your care. A case like yours –” Healer Welby cleared his throat. “Be that as it may, Mrs. Potter is in good health now and that is indeed a blessing.” He looked at Ginny as if expecting her to agree. When she stared stonily back, he shook his finger at her. “I could tell you stories, my dear, that would make you appreciate just how lucky you are.” Ginny’s face burned. She didn’t feel lucky – she was unlucky. Miranda Smith had aimed her broom at her and now… “I want you to continue to fly and to swim,” Healer Welby continued in that no-nonsense voice. “Both of those activities – especially flying, since it’s magical exercise – strengthen the abdominal walls. Then when it’s time for children, you’ll have relatively few problems.” “What do you mean, ‘relatively few problems’?” Harry demanded. “At the very least, she won’t be able to do magic after conception,” Healer Welby answered calmly. “The magic of gestation coupled with daily magical activities would overwhelm her body.” “Why didn’t they tell me this at St. Mungo’s?” Harry asked angrily. “I never –” “You weren’t married then, Mr. Potter,” Sylvia answered crisply. “St. Mungo’s was not authorized to release confidential medical information to you then. And I see no reason to shout at Healer Welby –” “He has every reason to shout, Sylvia,” Healer Welby said mildly. “As you can see, this has come as quite a shock.” He looked at Ginny. “We’ll leave you now, unless you have any other questions?” Why? Why did this have to happen to me – and to Harry? Since those were questions Healer Welby couldn’t answer, Ginny bit her lip and shook her head ‘no.’ Healer Welby and Sylvia filed out of the room. Hezzie hung back for a moment. “Don’t forget – we have the welcoming barbeque tonight. It’s about to start.” ”Oh, right,” Harry said faintly. The door closed. Now that everyone was gone, the silence in the room seemed heavy and alive. She couldn’t look at Harry. They were going to be apart again and this time there was no hope that things would ever change. “Ginny, I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I feel so guilty –” “Don’t!” Something white-hot exploded in her mind and she pulled her hand away from his. “Not everything is about you!” “No, that’s not what –” “I don’t care about your feelings right now!” she raged. “We’re not going to be together – again! But this time I’m going to worry about my feelings and not yours!” He sucked in a breath. At that harsh sound, she looked at him. He was still pale, but his eyes were blazing. Good. He was angry. That was better than guilty. “Let’s go to this party,” she said grimly. “At least I can be part of that before you go off without me.” His nostrils flared and his eyes flashed, but he didn’t take the bait. He just opened the door and walked out ahead of her. * The welcoming barbeque should have been a heart-warming introduction to their new life in New Zealand. It was held on the spacious lawn of St. Kilda’s in the most beautiful setting imaginable. Even though the trees were still bare in late winter, the dense forest surrounding the hospital looked warm and inviting, with the fairly lights strung in the trees. The mountains in the background took on the golden glow of the setting sun. But Ginny couldn't enjoy any of it since she was too upset to mingle with the party-goers or to eat any of the food set out on the buffet table. Harry had silently brought her a plate, but it sat untouched next to her. One part of her knew that she was being unreasonable, but that logical part of her brain was swamped by the anger that surged through her at regular intervals. Right now she was watching Harry standing in a loose circle with the other Search and Rescue trainees listening to Niall Dunbrack telling some sort of story. It must have been amusing since everyone laughed at the end of it. After Harry laughed, he took a swig of his beer and glanced at her. She looked away, not sure how she felt at this point. She was happy he was fitting in so well, but… Harry doesn’t need me. This realization thundered through her brain and pulsed through her body with breathtaking pain. Harry had always had another life and she had never wanted to be in the position to tag along. But this was worse. It was tagging along times ten. Harry hadn’t needed her when he went after Voldemort and his Horcruxes. He hadn’t needed her to complete a year of Auror training. And by the looks of how he was fitting in with the nine other trainees – he wasn’t going to need her now. She had met all the trainees and even through the haze of her own disappointment, she had been struck by how each one had a demeanor similar to Harry’s – decent and steady and somehow competent. Even Niall Dunbrack, easily one of the handsomest men Ginny had ever seen, had that solid feeling that would make anyone feel safe – perfect for a Search and Rescue Medi-wizard. And Harry fit in perfectly. Ginny watched Hezzie work her way over to the new trainees and Niall Dunbrack. She said something that made Niall laugh and look at her with a gleam in his eyes. At any other time Ginny would have giggled and given Hezzie a thumbs-up. Instead, she turned away before Hezzie could catch her eye and headed toward the clean-up table to return her plate. There was a group of Healers, still in their uniforms, gossiping next to the clean-up area. The Healer with her back to the table was talking about Niall Dunbrack. Ginny scraped the remains of her dinner into the bin and half-listened to the usual oh’s and ah’s about his good looks and unmarried status. Then her ears perked up when she heard Harry’s name. “Our Brit hero is kind of cute, too,” one witch said. “If you like skinny.” “But the eyes, Darlene, the eyes.” A witch giggled. “He seems nice enough, I’ll give you that.” “Did you see the witch he came with?” “He’s here with someone?” Ginny froze. She didn’t want to hear this, but she couldn’t seem to move her feet. “I know. She’s hardly talked to him or anyone else – she seems right stuck-up.” “Typical Pommy Princess.” A snort. “Who else would wear dress robes to a barbeque?” Ginny looked down at her sage-green dress robes. She had put them on this morning because she had remembered Healer Jones’s warning that in South Africa you always wore wizarding robes. But apparently that wasn’t true for New Zealand. Most of the people at the party were either Healers in uniform or wizards in the type of rugged Muggle clothes they had bought Harry at Three B’s Mercantile this morning. Even Donna, the only female trainee, was wearing jeans. “Drat! I’m due back on the floor in five minutes,” one of Healers said. The group of catty witches drifted away, but Ginny hardly noticed. She was back at Hogwarts her first year. What do you think of Ginny? I don’t know, why don’t you ask that diary she’s always writing in? Giggles. I think her robes are boys’ robes. Gasps. No! Yes! Did you notice they fasten on the other side? I wonder if her underwear is boys’ too. Ewww. Giggles. She’s poor – And weird. Tears stung her eyes as she remembered the humiliation of overhearing that conversation. After her traumatic first year, it had taken her a long time to overcome her “weirdness” in the eyes of her roommates. There’s no second chance to make a first impression, that toothpaste advert used to say. Already they didn’t like her here. “Are you ready to go?” Harry interrupted her thoughts. “We have to report for orientation tomorrow at eight o’clock.” “No, I’m not ready to go!” she snapped. “I’m having a grand time and –” She laughed harshly. “Unlike you, I can have a lie-in tomorrow morning.” “Fine. Be that way,” Harry said in a low, angry voice. “I’m going home.” She stumbled after him to the Apparition point, not bothering to acknowledge the good-byes of Harry’s new friends. It was the smoothest Apparition she had ever experienced. All she had to do was think of the round green door of Contented Cottage and then she was standing in front of it in the cold night air. It was as if the power of her thoughts could slice through the very atmosphere of New Zealand and take her where she wanted to go. Harry unlocked the front door and entered first, flicking his wand to light the torches. One of the Bea brothers had delivered their trunks as promised, Ginny noticed. Harry opened his and riffled through the neatly folded clothes until he found his toothbrush. Ginny watched him, not quite believing he was just going to go to bed without saying anything else to her. “Are you going to bed?” “It’s eleven o’clock,” he answered. “That’s all you’re going to say about this?” she asked, her anger washing over her again. His eyes flicked to her face briefly. “You didn’t want to hear my feelings.” “But what about my feelings?” she demanded, balling her hands into fists. “You get to go your merry way – but what about me?” He stared at her and then his expression hardened. “Don’t pin this on me. For once, this isn’t my fault. I wasn’t anywhere near that Pitch.” “Oh, it’s my fault now?” she shrieked. “It can’t be Miranda Smith’s fault, now can it? She didn’t get to keep Head Girl status, which, as we all know, is justice for a lifetime of having to be careful.” “You weren’t listening to the Healers, were you?” he demanded angrily, clutching his toothbrush as if it were a wand. “At least you’re going to have a lifetime.” His voice rose. “For days we didn’t know if you were going to live or die!” Flashes of anger and pain lit his eyes. All her fault. She was drowning in the green of his eyes – she was drowning in emotion with nothing to hold on to. If she didn’t speak, if she didn’t let something out, the pain would fill her until she couldn’t breathe. “Why, Harry? Why did you marry me?” Her voice was raw. “I would have let you go.” He paled, but she kept going. “You could have come down here on your own.” She turned around and closed her eyes, not wanting to face him. Not wanting to face the fact that she was useless to him and to everyone else. She just wanted to curl up alone in a dark place. Far from here… She felt herself being smoothly pulled through the atmosphere. And then she was in that dark place. * The dark place was a forest. That much she could tell from the scent of pine and the soggy earth below her feet. She couldn’t see the sky – maybe because the trees were too close together or maybe because it was overcast. “Lumos.” Birds screeched and twittered as soon as her wand flared to life. She caught her breath at the strange sounds. She had never heard birds making those types of noises or making so much noise at night. Then she heard a rustling sound. Something was moving toward her – and quickly. Before she could decide what to do, a huge purple bird, at least seven feet tall, darted out of the trees. Ginny cast a quick Stunning Spell and missed. The bird angled away from Ginny and disappeared in the thick forest. Ginny held her wand high so she could see more of surroundings. A wall of magic shimmered before her. There were all sorts of colorful birds pressed up against it. Some were as big as chickens, some as small as sparrows. They were all staring at her with bright jewel eyes. She was in an Apparition Trap and she had no idea how she was going to get out. * After sending up a shower of sparks from her wand, Ginny decided to make a small fire. Hopefully it would warm her and keep whatever creatures that roamed these woods at bay. She sat on the ground and hugged her knees. Harry would come. She was sure of it – not that she deserved to be rescued after the way she had been acting. Her knee pressed into her eye socket. It hurt but she didn’t let up the pressure. It helped her think. What had she said to Harry before she was sucked into this trap? Something about not marrying him. Her stomach lurched. How could she have said that? She loved Harry – she loved being married to him. Her wedding day had been the happiest day of her life and now… It was unforgivable. How could he forgive her for saying something like that? Now that her anger had cooled, she could see the irony. She had been so angry at being left behind that she had done more to separate them than anything else. * She heard him before she saw him. Loud thundering steps. She had just struggled to her feet when she looked up into the large, dumb face of a giant. Hexes only bounced off of giants – Ginny knew that from the attack on Hogwarts where both Hagrid and Grawp had died. But she could at least cast an obscurity mist around herself. No – she couldn’t. Then Harry wouldn’t be able to find her. “Yost,” the giant spoke. “Sorry?” “Yost,” the giant repeated, pointing to her with his tree trunk of a finger. “Sammie tell Marcus.” Then he reached out slowly. Ginny scrambled to get away from his huge hand. But she wasn’t the target. Sammie pinched a large, pink-spotted bird between his massive thumb and finger and then popped it into his mouth. The remaining birds squawked and screamed and trembled as the giant turned around and stomped off through the forest, the pine trees bowing down and springing back as he passed them. Help, it seemed, was on the way. * It was Niall Dunbrack who found her a half hour later. He swooped from the sky on his broom with as much style as any hero from Days of Destiny. “All right, then?” he called. “Yes,” she answered, her face flaming. Somehow she thought that this mishap would remain a private affair between her and Harry. But he didn’t know this area, so of course he had to ask for help. She groaned inwardly as she watched Niall send green sparks into the air. How many others were looking for her? “Good onya for staying put,” Niall said kindly. “The fire helped me find you, too.” Ginny felt a little better at this praise. At least she had done something right. Harry came into view next. His flying was jerky – as if he couldn’t concentrate on keeping his balance or his course or his altitude. The light from her fire flashed off of his glasses so she couldn’t see his eyes before she climbed on the broom behind him. But she knew how he was feeling by the rigid line of his back. Any comfort she felt at being rescued evaporated as they rose about the tree line. The moon was dark and there were only a few stars visible. All that she could see of the landscape were white patches of snow starting half-way up the mountains and the parts of the lake lit by the scattered Muggle lights. She tried to concentrate on what she was seeing rather than fall apart from the humiliation of having the entire Search and Rescue faculty and all of the trainees out looking for her. Harry must have been mortified to report her missing. A middle-age wizard with a shock of blond hair and a horrible scar running the length of his face seemed to be the one in charge of the group flying back. He took a moment to fly alongside of Harry and Ginny. “Don’t feel bad about the Trap,” he told Ginny. “It happens every year. One of the newcomers gets a touch of homesickness and wishes they were somewhere else…” Ginny let him think that she was homesick because it was true in a way. She was homesick for the ship when they were alone in their cabin and they knew nothing but happiness and excitement for the future. There was a sickening sense of déjà vu to their return to Contented Cottage. Harry stormed into the house without a word and Ginny trailed behind him. She watched him pluck a clean t-shirt from his trunk. “Harry, I’m sorry,” she began haltingly. “I was so upset. I didn’t realize how strong those Traps were.” He pushed his glasses up before he spoke. “Then you’d best control that temper of yours.” His eyes were cold green chips of ice. Ginny shivered as she realized that he was struggling to control his temper. He wasn’t angry – he was furious. She swallowed. “Yes. You’re right.” He spasmodically gripped the t-shirt in his hand and then turned toward the bedroom. “Sorry,” she whispered. * She ran a hot bath in the slippery old-fashioned tub in an attempt to warm up and relax enough to sleep. It didn’t help. Harry was asleep on his side when she finally climbed into bed next to him. She was so cold and he was always so warm. At any other time she would have snuggled up next to him without a thought. But not now. She was like one of those birds caught in the Apparition Trap – huddled against the very wall that was holding her prisoner. * That night she dreamed about horrible things. In the morning she could only remember disjointed bits and pieces and the mocking sound of Tom Riddle’s voice. You loved me, Ginny. I never loved you. Reparo! Never loved you. Reparo! Her throat was raw. It made her wonder if she had screamed Reparo in her sleep. She couldn’t ask Harry because he had already left for his first day of training. She stayed in bed a long time after waking because there didn’t seem to be any reason to get out of it. Her stomach finally alerted her to the fact that she was hungry and that there was no food in the house. Maybe if she ate she could overcome this lassitude and find the energy and enthusiasm to unpack their trunks and make the cottage a home. Then maybe Harry would talk to her again. * Jeremiah Dey’s shop was a ramshackle wooden building on the shore of Lake Wanaka. The view from the front step was breath-taking on this cold, clear winter morning. The steep, rocky summit of Mt. Aspiring seemed close enough to touch, although Ginny knew it was a fair broom ride away. She looked across the sparkling blue waters of the lake to the far shore where she had been trapped the night before. It didn’t seem possible that such a normal-looking forest could hold such dangers. When Ginny entered the shop, she was expecting it to be like the green grocers in Ottery St. Catchpole or maybe like the bigger market in Hogsmeade. This shop, however, carried a little bit of everything. There were several bins of live bait to catch Ramora or eels or squid. There were magical compasses and maps of the area. There was a huge selection of sweets and fizzy drinks and beer. There were bottles of milk, rounds of cheese and loaves of bread. And there was a parrot – that could talk. “What will you have? What will you have?” it asked, fluttering its midnight-blue plumage. “Er?” Ginny looked around. “Is Mr. Dey here?” “Gone. Gone.” “Oh!” She stared at the bird. It had a comical spray of silver feathers on its head. “I really needed groceries. When can I come back?” “Shop now. Shop now.” The bird flew to a small sign on the counter. It said: Sickles or Knuts I don’t give a hoot. Leave your money here And don’t forget the beer. Bemused, Ginny took a basket and began to select enough food for her breakfast and their dinner. She also picked up a copy of Authorized Broom Routes in the Waikikamukau District. Then she decided to buy some sweets for Harry since their dinner of lamb and potatoes was going to be fairly uninspiring. “Do you have Chocolate Frogs?” she asked, still feeling silly about talking to a bird. “No Frogs. No Frogs.” The parrot landed on a crate labeled ‘Chocolate Fish.’ When Ginny opened the lid, she saw hundreds of fish flopping around in their cellophane wrappers, a collector’s card included with each one. She caught six and added them to her basket. “I think that’s all.” She wondered if the bird could add and subtract. “Beer. Beer,” the bird reminded her. Ginny laughed for the first time that day. “Okay. Two bottles of beer.” She didn’t like beer and she had never seen Harry drink much more than that. “Two! Two!” the bird squawked in apparent surprise at such a small order. The problem of sums was solved when Ginny saw that a Quill had been working out the total as she shopped. Ginny put her money in the box, feeling a little better. At least she had accomplished something today. “Come again,” the parrot called. “Come again.” When she Apparated back to the cottage with two heavy carrier-bags full of groceries, she found Bonnie Bea waiting on the doorstep. “You’ve been shopping!” Bonnie cried, waving her hands so all of her rings sparkled in the sunlight. “How lovely. I was afraid you would have been put off after your ordeal last night. But you must have that stiff upper lip they’re always saying Brits have.” She peered at Ginny’s lip. “How did you –” Ginny stopped. Of course Bonnie knew; this was a small place, after all. “There was no food in the cottage,” Ginny explained, putting her groceries down so she could unlock the door. Bonnie followed her into the house, carrying one bag of groceries. “My dear, that’s why you should have taken a bach with a house-elf.” “It’s okay,” Ginny said, putting the milk in the cooling cupboard. “I’m going to have plenty of time for housekeeping.” She tried not let the bitterness seep into her voice. “Yes, well.” Bonnie’s blue eyes were troubled. “It’s okay,” Ginny repeated, not wanting Bonnie to know just how disappointed she was. “So,” Bonnie said briskly, “I brought over the lease for you and Harry to sign.” “He’s not –” “The lease doesn’t have to be signed today, but I do need the first and last month’s rent.” “Oh!” After their shopping spree at Three B’s Mercantile and Ginny’s grocery shopping, there wasn’t much cash left. “I’ll have to go to the bank.” “I thought as much,” Bonnie said. “That’s why I stopped by this morning so you would have time to run into Dunedin.” “Oh.” “Take the bus,” Bonnie advised. “Howard is driving this morning, I believe.” She blushed. Hezzie’s gossip was accurate, Ginny realized. Bonnie was sweet on Howard. * Howard also seemed sweet on Bonnie. Not that he said anything to Bonnie when he opened the door of the Tiki Tour Bus and saw both of them standing there. But his face fell when only Ginny boarded the bus, and he did touch his cap in an awkward salute to Bonnie before closing the door. Luckily for Ginny, Gringotts bank was the next stop. Her stomach was still empty and she didn’t need the added excitement of a long bus ride. In no time, they were in front of the bank building. Ginny was heartened to see that this branch of Gringotts was exactly like the Gringotts in Diagon Alley – right down to the columns in the front and the goblin at the door. Unfortunately, the paperwork was the same as well. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Potter,” a goblin explained. “You can’t withdraw that much gold with out both signatures of the vault holders.” “But he’s in a course –” “No withdrawal,” the goblin said firmly. “But please help yourself to a complimentary calendar.” Ginny sat with the calendar in her hands as Howard took the long way back to St. Kilda’s. She was trying to muster up enough courage to turn up at Harry’s first day of Search and Rescue training. Would he talk to her or walk away? And what would the other trainees think when they saw her – their first rescue victim? She cringed at the thought and stared out the window at a black sandy beach and the wizard with a harpoon who had just disembarked. This was business – no matter how angry Harry was with her, he had to sign that slip of paper if they were going to stay in that cottage. She looked down at the calendar in her lap. She used to love when the Gringotts calendar came out. Every month had a different prediction and a moving illustration to go with it. She and Ron used to howl with laughter over the crazy future they were expected to endure: frog storms, planets colliding, and unexplained fountains of treacle in the middle of major thoroughfares. The bus spun in a circle. “St. Kilda’s!” Howard sang out. Ginny blinked and scrambled for the calendar she had dropped. Once she was standing under the beech tree in front of the hospital, the bus Disapparated with a crack. Oh, Harry, Ginny thought. Talk to me. * The class was outside, on the same stretch of lawn where the barbeque had been the night before. They were doing some sort of conjuring. Something with ropes and knots. As Ginny approached, one of the trainees – Wayne from West Auckland, if she remembered correctly – called out. “Yo, Harry! Isn’t that your girlfriend?” Harry looked up in surprise. The rope from the end of his wand dissipated as he turned his attention to her. “Yo, Harry!” Wayne said. “You deaf? She’s your girlfriend, right?” “No,” Harry answered, still staring at her. “She’s not my girlfriend.” Ginny’s stomach clutched with pain. He started to walk toward her. “She’s my wife.” She couldn’t stop her lip from trembling – or her hands. “What is it?” he asked. If she looked at him, she would burst into tears. So she stared at the quill in her hand and the withdrawal slip with just her name on it: Ginevra M. Potter. All those ‘nevras’ they had promised each other… She took a deep breath. “I need your signature – for the bank. We have to give Bonnie gold for the cottage.” “Okay.” He took the quill and the paper and used the calendar for something stiff to write on. The quill made scratching noises. Then he handed everything back to her. Ginny looked at the paper. It now said: Ginevra M. Potter Harry J. Potter A single tear landed at the end of her name, making the ‘r’ run down to the next line. “Ginny?” She started to cry, still holding the quill and paper and calendar. They were still married. “Ginny.” She felt his arms go around her and she sobbed into his chest. “I didn’t know if you would talk to me,” she said. His arms tightened. “I have a filthy temper, too,” he said into her hair. “It was my fault,” she said, trying to stop sobbing and not succeeding. “I still want to be married to you.” “Shh, I know,” he said thickly. “Potter! Mr. Hilary is due back!” someone warned. “There’s demerits for making out with your girlfriend!” That was Wayne’s voice. “Not that you need to worry, Wayne,” came another voice. “Your record will be clean as the driven snow.” “Ha! Clever.” “I have to go,” Harry said, pulling away. “Are you okay?” Ginny brushed her face against the sleeve of her jacket. “Yeah. I’ll go back to the bank now.” “Your happy place.” He remembered. “It’s happier now,” she told him with a small smile. His eyes darkened. “Ginny –” The man who organized the rescue party last night – the one with the scar and the thick blond hair – was striding on to the lawn. He must be Mr. Hilary. “Your instructor’s here,” she warned. “Okay,” Harry said, not moving. “You’re sure you’re all right?” “I am.” She clutched the calendar to her chest and tried to say something cheerful. “I think you’ll like the Fish I bought from the parrot.” Then she realized how odd that must have sounded by the expression on Harry’s face. “I’ll tell you at dinner.” He touched her arm. “I’ll tell you about my day at dinner, too.” She swallowed the lump in her throat as she watched him walk across the lawn to join his class. After everything that they had said and done the night before, after all the things they still needed to talk about, hearing about his day seemed to be the best promise he could have given her.
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