16

Chapter 16: Runic Awesomeness

Harry was panting slightly while on his knees. His wand was – in the fourth time since the beginning of the hour – in the hands of Flitwick, who was looking at him not without approval and a bit of good humour.

"Harry, it has been many months and you still continue to surprise me. Normally, when a person is told that in their hands a simple household charm becomes a weapon, it is considered an insult, but lately you have been proving that it can be a compliment. First that quick washing spell that you used to nearly ruin one of my favourite shirts to get me off-guard..."

Harry had the decency to look sheepish.

"...and now the floor-cleaning charm, albeit slightly modified, if I'm correct?"

"Yes, the original didn't make the surfaces nearly as slippery. I think that it is more practical to use indoors instead of an icing spell, because it is faster and more efficient."

"I think you still gave it a little too much 'oomph'," the professor chided gently, poking at the closest levitating bubble. It popped with a cheerful sound.

"Yeah."

"Well, I think that you are too tired to continue. Do you have any questions before you leave me to death by essay suffocation?" he glanced at the mountain of parchment near his desk with desperation which was only partially played up. Harry perked up.

"Yes, I do. Can you tell me how the Trace works?"

That stilled Flitwick. He lowered his gaze and started twirling his wand nervously.

"Well, that is a... sensitive question, Harry. This is a piece of magic that adults are not supposed to tell the underage about."

"I wouldn't misuse the knowledge, professor."

"Hah! My boy, don't play words with a Ravenclaw. Granted, you are one of the most Ravenclaw-like lions I taught, but still."

"I really, really need it. It is literally a question of life and various injuries," seeing the hesitation in the half-goblin's stance, Harry decided to sweeten the pot. "How about I help you with the essays in return?"

"Harry, you are a lion at heart, but still possess a head of an eagle, and now I find out you have a snake there somewhere," Flitwick grumbled, but relented. "Fine, fine, grade at least the first two years and I'll tell you. Stop grinning, you really don't know what you've gotten yourself into."

Six hours later

Harry jerked his aching hand in a motion the likeliness you would expect from someone suffering an epileptic stroke, leaving a symbol vaguely resembling the letter 'E' on the parchment. He put it in the pile of essays closest to him and reached for a new one without looking. His hand shuffled around the table, not finding anything. He glanced, and after a second of confirming the fact that he had, in fact, finished his part of the deal. The boy closed his eyes and dropped his head on the table with a loud thunk.

"Hurrah..." he moaned in a weak tone.

"Good, you've lasted all the way through."

"That's what she said," Harry said in a snarky tone, still not looking at the professor. He heard the continuous scribbling stop.

"I did not ask to be privy to all details of your relationship with Miss Bones. Maybe it would be prudent for me to redirect your commentaries to her aunt..." he was cut off by an 'are you kidding me' stare from Harry. For a while they sat there in companionable silence. Finally, Flitwick put the graded essays in a big pile and levitated it to the corner of his room.

"Well, now that we've gotten care of the boring stuff, let us get to the boggart that is the Trace."

The boy immediately sat straighter, banishing the urges to give in to sleep, and focused all his attention on the frowning professor.

"Well, to begin with, the Trace is a system that has been developed nearly a century ago to watch out for situations that would require the intervention of the Obliviators. Well, as it was then, it didn't work. It was literally detection of magic, and was full of glitches. Thus, it was abandoned in favour of just watching the muggles for their reactions on the leaks from behind the Statute of Secrecy, so to speak. Imperfect, but we still haven't found a better solution. In the meantime, the problem that the Muggleborn and pureblood children that lived near muggles presented to the Statute became more and more apparent. Eventually, someone picked up the broken piece of magic, tweaked it a bit and made a simple fix. What we actually do is just affix all the sold wands with a little spell that monitors them. If certain conditions are met, the spell sends a warning to the Ministry and they decide what to do."

"Conditions?" Harry pried.

"Yes, like not being on magical property and being underage."

"I used magic during the Quidditch World Cup without being warned for underage magic," the boy said, remembering.

"Ah, the presence of certain wards just jams it. It's hard to hear a single voice in an enormous choir. Also, I'm pretty sure that the Ministry designated the area as magical property for the duration of the Cup for convenience's sake."

"Ah. So, basically, no wand magic during the summer holidays for me..." Harry noted quietly. He was rightly cautious of what the Dursleys might do to him when he returned and didn't want to face it without the odds being in his favour.

After a couple of seconds of deliberation, he grinned, remembering the books Sirius gifted him with.

"Harry, I really don't like the look on your face."

"Professor, I just realised that we can do magic with things other than wands."

Next morning, Ancient Runes classroom

"...and I'll grade your runic atlases in the next few months. Now, scram!"

Instead of running out with everybody else, Harry waited, waving his friends off with a reassurance that he will just ask something that he had on his mind lately and catch up with them. He sighed internally. Yeah, right. Babbling's a genius, but Merlin can she go completely off topic for a while.

"Green Eyes? What are you fidgeting over there for?"

Babbling didn't bother with learning people's names, giving everyonenicknames. Harry once almost walked into a wall when he heard her address McGonagall as 'Tabby'.

"Well, I wanted to ask, theoretically, if an imaginary student wanted to create an enchanted glove that he could cast spells with, how should he go about it? This is purely academic, of course," Harry was barely able to say that with a straight face.

The professor's face was also suspiciously blank while she began sorting the atlases on her table.

"Well, I would say that the idea is as old as dirt. Also, I would say that this theoretical glove is too difficult to enchant like that for anyone who is not a master artificer and knows some wandlore. However, I suppose that any object could be engraved with runes that would, again, theoretically, allow its owner to cast a pre-determined handful of spells. I would, of course, advise the imaginary student not to do something like that until his or her NEWT year unless he wants to really become imaginary, but we are talking strictly academically, right?"

At his nod, she continued, sitting down and looking at the ceiling intently and critically, as if looking for a mosquito that annoyed her all night with its buzzing.

"Next, if a certain non-existent student still wanted to do something like that, I would recommend 'Enchanting for Beginners' and 'Runic Clockwork.' 'Practical Applications of Runes' would be better, but it's very rare and it's not in the library..."

"Let's theorise that the purely thought-up student has the latter book in his possession. What would you advise him to do first?"

Babbling threw a spell at the ceiling that made some dust to fall from it. After making a satisfied nod, she directed her thoughtful gaze upon the completely deadpan boy.

"Well, he should trust his instincts, always make sure that the prototype has been tested before putting it on, think everything through, and most importantly, make notes. It will save our mirage a lot of nerves."

"Thank you."

"Whatever for? Now go. Theyare watching," she made shooing motions, shooting suspicious glances from the corners of her eyes. Harry bowed slightly and promptly exited the room, only allowing himself to chuckle after he was a certain distance from the door.

Sometimes it's nice talking to Cloudcuckoolanders. Near them, I feel absolutely sane by comparison.

The idea of writing things down as he conducted experiments somewhat appealed to Harry, if only because of the possibility that he will one day read those early notes and laugh himself silly at the descriptions of his mistakes.

Journal entry #3, 7 March

I think I got the basic idea hashed out. The glove will need to cast at least two spells – Aegis and Depulso, so I will have to look into the Arithmancy descriptions of those and how I can translate them into runes.

The spells will need energy, which they will take either from me or from ambient magic. Will look into the practicality of both solutions.

The third issue: activation. Yelling out the incantations seems infeasible, but how do I actually use them then? At a loss.

Ah, well, I will make it up as I go. I barely started.

Oh damn, I'm a moron. Where do I get the glove itself? Actually, I will need more than one, if I take the possibility of different miscasts, mistakes, explosions and other chaotic random events into account.

He asked for a pack of standard rubber gloves from a certain half-anonymous Gryffindor seventh year who was earning himself some money for his first few months after leaving school by being a person to go to for any muggle knick-knack. The guy was a bit reluctant, as he didn't smuggle clothing as a general rule, but Harry soon persuaded him that the goods in question are in fact just expendables for his research.

The 'rubber dealer' managed to deliver after a weekend, and Harry had his supply. By that time, he had already started devising the rune scheme.

Journal entry #5, 14 March

Well, I got the material. Those rubber gloves are cheap and numerous – exactly what I need.

The energy issue is solved. The chapter on ward stones in 'Enchanting for Dummies' explicitly said that powering standard spell imitations with ambient magic takes too much time to be practical if I'm not standing right over a ley line. Didn't understand the reference, looked into ley lines. Seems that they are something like magical streams that flow underground, drastically heightening arcane ambience, something like Earth's circulatory system. Hogwarts stands right on the intersection of two of those, which explains the power of castle's wards.

In any case, it seems that I'm stuck with me powering up the runes. I have gotten the needed energy taking rune matrix from the same book. Hah! First success!

Journal entry #6, 16 March

I'm an idiot.

I spent an evening poring over Arithmancy tables and writing down two incredibly complex for such low-tier spells formulae, getting a headache for my trouble, and when I tried to translate it all into runes I realised the fact that there were already written simple matrices that did exactly the same!

I'll go drown myself in a shower. Dunno if I succeed, but it should get rid of the damn migraine.

Journal entry #9, 21 March

OK, I think I have gotten the trigger runes down. I'll just have to bend a finger and touch the tip to the palm. This scheme suggests that eventually I can have as many as 5 spells on the palm of my hand.

That was an awful pun, but I'm kinda tired.

I had a thought that I could get even more out of the glove, but it's still a far prospective. Baby steps, Harry.

Journal entry #11, 22 March

I got the whole scheme completed. Another obstacle, fortunately, easily overcome. I couldn't figure out how to etch runes in rubber, but after some thought and a consultation with the book Sirius gifted me, I have started creating a special paint. Or ink.

There are, I found, a lot of recipes for rune ink. The cheapest recipe is to mix blood and regular ink, and do a couple of spells. Voilà. As the other variants are costly, and I've been feeling greedy lately, I chose the cheap and easy way. Now I'm feeling dizzy, despite the blood replenishing potion I've cooked up from the stuff gathered in Neville's and mine little garden and a couple of things nicked from Snape a while ago. Despite that, the operation is a go.

Still, it's difficult to write the runes on rubber, but I recall there was a charm for that. Later, though, I'm too impatient to see if it'll work.

First test, I will transfigure and animate a wooden arm. I will then put the glove on, and order it to activate the banisher.

I think I saw a bit of smoke, but other than that – nothing.

Maybe, I need more power? I'm going to animate it again, severely overpowering the charm.

...

Hell's bells. The glove sizzled and just tore itself apart. Will look into it. Theory: it has something to do with runic compatibility.

Harry was walking to the Gryffindor tower while scribbling something in a small notebook, occasionally muttering under his breath. Only the fact that he knew the path better than the back of his hand saved him from colliding with a wall or falling victim to trick steps in the moving stairs.

However, it didn't prevent him from walking into someone.

"Oof. Damn it, watch where you're going, Potter!"

"Sorry... if this one goes here, then I need to change the upper string, but this would be just pointless..."

Harry continued on his path, not noticing the bewildered faces of a certain Slytherin trio.

"Uhm, what was that about?" Goyle asked, looking at Harry's back.

"Beats me."

Journal entry #12, 26 March

Well, it was really three incompatibilities. I had to do a rather large amount of work so that the damn scheme would work properly. I have asked Hermione about standard protocols for this kind of thing, she told me it was basically 'repeat the experiment in various conditions until you understand where you went wrong'. The trick, she said, was choosing the right conditions or something like that.

Test three. Basically the same thing that I did in the previous two – animate an arm and make it bend its fingers while increasing the power behind the animation from one go to another.

…

Okay, it's still intact, but the result doesn't resemble any single charm I've heard of. First, it just made it smell like daisies. I was a bit worried that it would blow up, but still upped the strength. Well, it levitated two desks to the ceiling and made everything in the room blue, including my face. I think it's sassing me.

Journal entry #13, 27 March

Eureka. Didn't sleep all night, came up with a possible reason of the... incident. Power runes were designed to take power from a wizard or a witch, not drain energy of another spell. Methinks it is exactly this that caused such a glitch. Will design the next scheme appropriately.

For now, though, sleep sounds like a decent enough idea. Good thing that it's only History until the evening. I'll wade through Charms somehow. Flitwick will understand.

Journal entry #18, 8 April

Finally! This spell-draining cluster was such a pain in the ass, as entries 13 through 17 can witness. At last, I have gotten it right.

Test 4: Just the same as test 3, only with a much greater wish for it to work.

…

Well, it worked... somewhat. I seem to be having trouble with aim. That is to say, it is non-existent. Just a huge wave of pressure in all directions instead of a Depulso-ish directed strike. What's worse, now I have a black eye from an Amazing Flying Ink Pot. Well, I suppose it's a decent reminder to have a shield up while testing. Better than a dismemberment, at least.

I'll go ask Pomfrey for a Bruise-Be-Gone, as my reserve runneth dry.

Journal entry #21, 15 April

Hermione's on my case because I still haven't started preparing for the exams and am instead 'wasting my time on yet another stupid project of a kind that can only be spawned by idle hands'. Honestly, the more she mellows out, the more she stays the same. She's got that frazzled hair thing going again like she always had before exams. It's so cute I can't even be angry at her for insulting my work.

To business, though.

I have made a directing sequence. Let me tell you that has been a pain to fit on the index finger.

Test 5. Now, just work. Please.

…

Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of firewhisky! I fucking did it! Woohoo!

Ahem.

Now, all that remains is finish fixing up the Aegis. I haven't done much work on it at all, but the runes for a standard flash-type shield are rather simple. Not as simple as pressure throwing ones, mind you, but those are made more complex by the compensation matrix that makes sure that the user isn't thrown back with equal force...

Journal entry #24, 30 April

Simple, my arse! Damn, the containment matrix alone has reduced the amount of hair on my head by 15% at least, what with me tugging on them in frustration! The generation bit wasn't that bad, though. Hermione was rather enthusiastic to help with that one, but she's got all curious and deduced my objective. I have managed to persuade her that a) I'm utilising all needed precautions, so I won't blow myself up, b) I have gotten the permission from Babbling and c) no, I will pass all exams barring Potions with flying colours, and I'm willing to bet pretty much anything on it. She still was very disapproving and tried to get me to study. Hah! I have something more important than endlessly repeating things I already know. Like pulling another scam with Tearshape. This time, it's precious metals, and as I'm fairly ignorant of the subject, my goblin friend does all the work while I'm throwing galleons at him. I'm thinking of expanding into the Muggle world, but for that I need more data and a lot of time to think.

Ahem.

So, I've made the first – and hopefully last, but who am I kidding? - draft of the shield piece.

Test 2.1: Same as previous, but I will order the animated arm to touch its palm with its middle finger. Should create an Aegis-like shield.

…

Jello. Why is there jello stuck on my Protego?

Damn, I have drawn a rune wrong. Still, it wasn't the fault of the scheme itself, so I will take heart in that.

Test 2.2: I will take great care to do it right this time.

…

Partial success. The Aegis was created, but didn't hold for the needed three seconds and faded away. The arm was drained of magic. Strange, I will look at the power component of the generating matrix again. Also, need to look at the spell itself.

Journal entry #26, 3 May

Found the leak. I have somewhat screwed up the energy direction bit. Too inefficient. Gah, it's like a freaking Sudoku puzzle. I guess that after this, Sudoku will seem like child's play.

Journal entry #28, 9 May

Finished. The new matrix should work fine.

Test 2.3.

…

It worked! Now, I need only to do a final check by hitting it with a spell. I'll begin with a stunner and work my way up to a heavy drill-piercer. When I cast Aegis, I am able to shield all of them, though the latter bursts it.

Test 2.4.

…

The standard piercer made it creak slightly, and a heavy bludgeoner bust it. Still, as it is just a step lower than the drill-piercer, I think that it will do.

Next part will be a bit tricky, as I will have to adapt the resulting schemes so that they will not have any weird/dangerous reaction to being painted on leather. Plus... Damn, I forgot about testing it all with the comfort rune scheme!

Journal entry #29, 14 May

Last adjustments are over. The only thing left is make sure that the power-draining part that utilises my magic is compatible with what I've drawn. In the meantime, I think I will have Babbling look at it. I could, theoretically, have my arm blown off if it goes wrong, and it would be just embarrassing, not to mention very uncomfortable.

…

Babbling took the drawing, muttered something about wards and talking shoes and walked off. I'm not sure if I should be encouraged that a pro will check it over, or resigned to the fact that said pro is bonkers.

Probably both.

Journal entry #30, 17 May

She returned the drawing to me with a couple of pointers. I think I will implement them this evening and finish it tomorrow. My patience is running thin.

Journal entry #31, 18 May

It's done. I am a proud owner of a single leather glove for my left hand that can shoot directed pressure waves and create translucent barriers on demand which is capable of stopping anything short of a shield-busting curse or an RPG round.

I think I'm happy. Need to test that...

Harry was walking through the Restricted Section, looking for a particular book he'd seen there a couple of years ago. That was a book on Mind Arts, and as he had slowly but steadily improved in control over his emotions over the last year despite the hormonal storm through his body, he thought that he was quite ready for the next step in learning Occlumency. What's more, he was going to look up Legilimency, as that sounded simply too useful to pass up.

Five minutes later, he found the needed tome.

When the budding Occlumens reaches the stage that he controls his emotions without a conscious effort, he is ready to continue on the path of learning.

But first, you must make a choice.

Occlumency is often underestimated by wizards that do not study it in depth, even if they are very adept in it. It is an art of mastering your own mind, with all perks that you can imagine available to you. It is not just the shield to Legilimency's sword, no, far from it – it can be used for so much the author does not believe he will ever reach the bottom of the deep well that is this art's potential. Every simpleton can create barriers around his or her mind, but not everyone reaches the conclusion that it can be used for anything else!

With proper care and sufficient dedication, you can – for a lack of another word – upgrade your mind. You will be able to think faster, reaching complex conclusions with lightning speed, notice things that usually would evade your eye, your memory will be sharper than goblin steel, and so much more!

Remember, reader, it is not powerful wizards who prosper – it is the smart ones.

Harry wiped the thin stream of drool from the corner of his mouth and continued reading.

I will not write down how to reach all those things in this book – after all, it is the beginner's guide. The question still stands, however – do you wish to simply be protected from mental intrusion and don't have time for anything else, or you are able to reach for something more?

If it's the first, then go to the next page. If it's the second, proceed to the chapter 6.

Harry immediately started flipping the pages.

So, you wish to embark on a path to being a savvy Occlumens? Good for you.

The first step is to train your ability to focus...

Same time, in the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic

Three headmasters, two officials and a phoenix entered a room.

It sure sounded like a beginning of a joke, but Madam Olympe Maxime was in no mood for sharing – never mind starring in – any kind of anecdote. The Triwizard Tournament that was meant to take place next year was being a giant pain to organise.

The half-giant woman glanced at her companions while they were sitting down for yet another round of negotiations. It was a dance all of them knew by now.

Karkaroff would start by spewing a number of demands in hopes of pushing through at least one of them. Dumbledore would skilfully counter, considering some only to deflect the others. Olympe would sit on the side-lines, silently watching for a chance to enter the argument in favour of some point that would benefit her school.

Today, however, proved to be different.

"I believe that we need to discuss the precautions one more time," Dumbledore said seemingly out of the blue, making Igor shut his already opened mouth rather comically. The head of Durmstrang coughed slightly to mask his surprise and answered disparagingly:

"Oh, please, Albus. You have been going at it for half a year. We changed the tasks, made them as safe as possible, we agreed to your age rule – what more do you want of us?"

Olympe nodded slightly.

"We have wasted a year. Now Krum will not be able to compete! I still believe you pulled it all to thin the competition," the man grumbled, causing Maxime to stifle a groan. Krum was a sore point for him and usually got mentioned once a week. As usual, the headmistress remembered young Miss Delacour. As a fellow half-human, she watched out for her student. When the Tournament was delayed, therefore denying her a chance to prove that she wasn't just 'that half-veela chick', Fleur was crushed.

"The first task is still unsafe. If you ask me, it's even more dangerous than what we originally planned."

"Dumbledore, the traditional point of the first task is to face a dangerous magical creature. Sure, I wouldn't pit the champions against a basilisk, but I think even dragons would be quite a decent opposition. Our current choice is even less dangerous while still remaining a challenge."

"Indeed, Igor, but I would like to put in some more safeguards..."

Maxime closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. This was just another rendition of an old argument that she didn't want waste her breath in.

The exams were over.

Harry looked over his marks with a frown. True, he did great, especially considering that he started revising barely a month before, but he wasn't just good enough – he had E's for Arithmancy, Astronomy and History. Out of the three only Arithmancy held any value to him, but Vector barely ever gave an O to anyone. An A for Potions, naturally, didn't even faze him.

"Harry?"

The young wizard sighed and offered the list to Hermione without turning to her, preferring to look at the surface of the lake. He heard the sound of rustling paper.

"Well, I'm not surprised," she said somewhat smugly. Harry shrugged, still looking away.

"I couldn't care less about Astronomy and History, and you know how Vector is..."

"Yes, but still..."

"I'm content with what I got. And besides, I am still of the opinion that the grades aren't that important in most cases."

Hermione sighed and sat down near him. They had this argument for dozens of times already and she didn't want to waste her breath going through it again.

"Was it worth it, Harry? You still haven't shown me the thing."

"That's because until this morning I still haven't figured out the last tricky rune in the comfort sequence. Well, I had it all written down, I just didn't have the time to actually implement it," the boy rummaged in his bag for a bit and got a black leather glove out of it. He put it on his left hand, and the surface started shimmering slightly with runes. He flexed his arm and offered it to the girl for inspection.

Hermione immediately grabbed it and started looking over the final product of her friend enthusiastically.

"So, would you finally explain the mechanics? I can only see vague outlines, and they are inverted, which makes it even harder to read."

"Well, this bit takes energy from me. Here's the trigger, here is the Depulso bit and this is the shield. Those are what I've been working on this morning, they allow me to wear it constantly, it's just that comfortable. It has just the right temperature, it breathes like silk and I can even feel things through it as if I'm touching them with my skin. I know, I'm awesome..."

"Despite my usual reaction to your boasting, in this instance, I will have to grudgingly agree. How does the trigger work?"

"Look," the boy glanced around and pointed his hand forward at the water, bending his index finger so it touched the palm. A translucent wave immediately pulsed out of his fist and crashed into the lake, creating a big splash. Hermione smiled a bit at the display. Her grin slowly turned to mischievous and she carefully brandished her wand, stepping back.

"En garde, Harry! Rictusempra!"

The red spell was barely intercepted by a yellow wall that sprung between them.

"What the hell?"

"Sorry," she shrugged, not sounding very much like it. "I'm trying out acting on impulse. I seem to remember you suggesting something of that sort."

"I certainly didn't mean you attacking me out of the blue to test my new favourite toy," Harry grumbled with a half grin, lying down on the grass. He closed his eyes.

Life was good.

Somewhere on the other side of the channel

The young man with dirty blond hair was stumbling through the forest at an unsteady pace. He was obviously in a hurry, if the speed and determination he showed was anything to judge off. He stumbled over a hidden root, swearing quietly, and continued his trek, as the man knew that his destination was very, very close.

Suddenly, the tree branches made way for the light. Barty came to a stop, wincing and covering his eyes with his hand from the glare of the sun.

Before him was a small hut, obviously put together recently, hastily and with a thought that the inhabitants wouldn't stay here for long. The young man smiled – or tried to, at least, as it looked more like he had a pinched nerve – and proceeded to the door.

As he approached, it suddenly opened. Completely unfazed, Barty walked in. The door swung shut.

"Barty Crouch..."

He knew that voice. Not even Azkaban could take the memory of his master away. The man fell to his knees and bowed his head, shaking from emotion.

"My Lord... I have found you!"

"So you did... I have heard that you searched for me, together with the Lestranges, when others left me the moment it seemed like I fell."

"Yes, my Lord."

"I also heard that you died in Azkaban," the same voice noted. "Tell me, where have you been all those years after your supposed death?"

"My mother persuaded my father to switch us. She took my place in prison when they visited. My father kept me all this time at his house, under Anima Shatter and Imperius. Only recently was I finally able to break the hold of the curse. I took all I had a need for, burned the house and left to search for you."

Silence followed his tale.

"An intriguing story. Anima Shatter, you say? I find it somewhat hard to believe that your father, of all people, would use a blatantly Dark potion, not to mention use an Unforgivable... But I will see if it is the truth. Legilimens!"

Barty crumpled on the floor, convulsing from the intrusion into his mind. Very soon, however, he stilled, as the pain vanished. His master found the memories that proved his words. He viewed them for some time, and then left the young man's head.

"Rise, Bartemius," Voldemort's tone was much warmer this time, if this adjective could be used in one sentence with his name at all. "I now see that your loyalty is still unquestionable and you cannot be blamed."

"Master," Barty rasped, standing up and looking at the figure in the chair before him. "How can I serve?"

"Sit. We have much to discuss. First of all, tell me everything you believe to be relevant that you heard your father talk about."