CHAPTER SUMMARY
Harry uses blackmail to begin to force Nico to answer his questions.
BEGINNING NOTES
Chapter Rating: Mature
Content Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Self Harm, Suicidal Themes
Word Count: 4595
Gee, just look at those trigger warnings? This is going to be a fun chapter, won't it?
Special thanks to Viviana, for being my Italian translator as well as my wonderful artist.
And all the characters are owned by J.K. Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
____________________NICO____________________
Nico's worst fear had come true. His worst enemy knew about his cutting. Camp would find out if he didn't cooperate with him. Will. Hazel. Percy. Jason. Reyna. Annabeth. Piper. Leo. Frank... they'd know how messed up he was. They'd abandon him. He'd be alone. Again.
But betrayal was the only other option: betrayal of the only people in the universe who cared about him, no matter how many times he messed up. All Nico knew for sure was this: either way, they'd leave, and there was no way he'd survive such heartbreak twice.
But what kind of person was he, to choose betrayal? If Percy was the one with a secret, would he do the same? No, he'd take social ostracization if it meant staying loyal. Why couldn't Nico be strong enough to do that? Why couldn't he act like the hero everyone told him he was?
Still, it didn't matter what Percy would do. Or anyone else, for that matter. The only person that mattered had already made his choice, and he'd chosen selfishness. He'd been paralyzed with fear, then spilled his guts. The bare minimum, sure, but Harry would press him further, and Nico had no intention of lying. If Harry found any inconsistencies... it was all over.
He hadn't even made it into the common room before the urge to cut took hold. He darted into the nearest bathroom and dragged the blade in deeper and deeper until the memories hazed and the pain released pain. He cried until he passed out in a pool of his own blood, only to wake up a few hours later and repeat the process upon remembering. Whether it came as a blessing from the gods or the result of blood loss, Nico slept without interruption for once. No Teddy, no dreams, just silent bliss.
When he woke the next morning, Nico longed for that haze of nothingness again. He stared at the new scars on his arms, formed from lack of ambrosia, and wondered what would happen if he just gave in. Slit his wrists instead of his arm. Let the fog take hold once and for all. Never leave the bathroom, never betray his friends to Harry, never finish the quest...
He'd make sure to be reborn the second he touched ground in Hades. No reason to chance seeing his father, or running into one of his friends, should they search for him in the Underworld. No, he'd run into the Lethe's welcoming arms and forget his miserable life once and for all. He'd be reborn; maybe beside Bianca's soul.
All it would take is a flick of his sword; one little slice, and he'd take control of the only thing in his life that he still could.
Nico's heart pounded at the thought; he glanced at the door to the bathroom. Silence.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.
Nothing. Silence.
"I'm sorry," Nico whispered to no one in particular. "Teddy, Father, I'm sorry I failed you. Percy, Annabeth, Piper, Jason, Reyna, Frank, Leo... I'm sorry for any pain I'll cause you. Will, Hazel... I'm so sorry I had to love you. I'm sorry."
Nico closed his eyes, and held back the tears that threatened to spill onto his cheeks. If there was one time he wouldn't cry, it was the moment of death.
"I know this looks like the coward's way out, but it's not. I'm too weak to keep Harry in the dark; I'm a danger to this quest and to Olympus. It's like Lucretia; she knew she had no way out, and died to stay true to those she loved, to hold onto her honor. I'd rather die a hero than live a coward. And, hey, maybe my death will inspire something as great as the Roman Republic."
Still slumped in the corner of the bathroom, leaning on a rusted sink pipe, Nico drew his sword in closer to his wrists. It was heavier than usual, no doubt a result of all the blood loss. He drew new strength and courage from Bianca's face, now vivid in his mind's eye. A memory flashed before him; the last real talk he and she had on the Wednesday before the dance that changed their lives forever. They often did that, stood in the hallways and chatted about this or that in Italian so no one would understand them. That conversation came a week after Nico came out to her. And, while the fallout had been--complicated--he remembered what she'd said, repeated, over and over again, right up until Artemis stole her away.
"Ti voglio bene, mio piccolo angelo. Incondizionatamente. Dammi solo un po' di tempo per abituarmici; sarà tutto come prima, lo prometto." [I love you, my little angel. Unconditionally. Just give me a little time to get used to it; everything will be like it used to be, I promise.]
"...come prima, Bianca... te lo prometto..." [...like it used to be, Bianca... I promise you...]
Ignorance. Oblivion. Bliss. Laughter.
Laughter? Shit!
Nico shoved his sword in his bag and stood just as a golden-haired Ravenclaw boy walked into the bathroom, mud streaked over his face and neck. He joined Nico at the sink, using the tap to clean his face. "Early morning Quidditch practice," he explained, after rising from his first plunge into the water. "Feel sorry for you Care of Magical Creatures kids. First you got that oaf back as a teacher, now you also gotta to deal with last night's downpour?"
"Uh..." Nico managed, his brain still stuck buffering.
"Know Luna Lovegood, she mentioned you were in that class, with Longbottom and Potter, right? Since you're new, I'll give you some advice. Stay outta Hagrid's way, and don't test any of the beasts he shows you. They ain't tame unless they're dead, trust me."
He toweled off the last of the dirt, then turned back to Nico.
"Anthony Goldstein, by the way. It's Nick, right?"
"Nico," Nico corrected him, still in a haze. "Italian for Nick."
"Right, sorry, mate. Here, I'll point the professor out to you. Should be in the Great Hall by now. C'mon."
Nico let himself be led out of the bathroom by Anthony, hyper aware of the sword once again hidden in his bag. He let Anthony tell him more about that Hagrid professor, whoever he was, then ate alone at the far end of the Slytherin table, far from Blaise and Hestia's notice.
So close... so close...
____________________HARRY____________________
The entire night, Harry glowed with pride at his ingenuity. By that time the next day, he'd know everything there was to know about di Angelo and his Death Eater companions. He could deliver the three to Dumbledore with enough proof to show the headmaster his oversight, and keep Hogwarts safe from Lord Voldemort that much longer. And, with a full confession from di Angelo, maybe that would be enough to convince the Ministry that Voldemort was, you know, back.
The appearance of Hagrid yesterday topped off the weekend. Though he was beaten up from his giant hunt, and no doubt keeping secrets, Harry felt hopeful for the first time since June. If he could discover Voldemort's plan with Lares and his spy within Hogwarts's walls, he could do anything. At least, he knew he could trust Hagrid; whatever secret he kept couldn't be all that dangerous.
At least, it didn't seem all that dangerous to Hagrid.
Harry raced into the Great Hall Monday morning without waiting for Ron or Hermione. He wanted to catch di Angelo the moment he got in and demand more answers. But the son of a Death Eater didn't show at breakfast, and Harry even went out and looked for him after waiting for three-quarters of an hour. Resigned, Harry decided to head to Hagrid's hut early, and catch di Angelo as he came to class. He had to show there, right?
Hagrid looked busy, supporting a large, dead cow over his shoulder. So, Harry just waved at him, smiled at his attempt to wave back, then fixed his gaze back on the castle. Students trickled in from breakfast: various Gryffindors, Malfoy and his cronies, Dean and Seamus, Blaise and Hestia, Neville, Ron and Hermione...
Di Angelo! Perfect.
"Harry!" Hermione called, her gaze searching for an explanation for his morning's disappearance. But, with di Angelo finally available and so close to cracking, he paid her no attention. Instead, he marched towards di Angelo.
"Non parlo inglese," di Angelo muttered; the almost inaudible remark dripped with the standard di Angelo attitude, but was also somehow distant. Still, it made Harry's blood boil, as di Angelo's snark often did. He finally gained the upper hand for once, which meant he didn't have to deal with the son of a Death Eater's condescending shit.
Harry fixed his eyes over di Angelo's shoulder instead of responding. A bit confused, di Angelo glanced at Harry, then followed his gaze to... an approaching Hestia Carrow. He turned a stark white, the blood draining from his face at the unspoken threat. Yet, he still seemed conflicted. His eyes followed Hestia's approach, shaking more and more visibly with every bouncing, running step.
"You seem a bit pale, di Angelo," Harry commented, not even trying to hide the double meaning in his words. "Why don't you stick by me during class; afterward I can take you to the Hospital Wing."
Di Angelo swallowed hard, then resolved his obvious internal battle. "Sounds good," he breathed, eyes closed in shame, head hung towards the grass.
This is cruel. Just look at what you're doing to him. You aren't a blackmailer; you can figure out another way.
He's a Death Eater's son, and he's good at keeping secrets. I need to know what he's up to, and I tried everything else. There is no other way; I can't let more people die because I pitied one of Voldemort's followers.
And, just like that, his conscious cleared and his mind made itself up. He'd squeeze di Angelo for all the information he had; who knew how long it would be before the Death Eater and his friends disappeared again, this time never to return? Or, for Voldemort to find out what Harry was doing and call them back?
"We're workin' in here today!" Hagrid called happily to the class, jerking his head back at the dark trees of the Forbidden Forest behind him. "Bit more sheltered! Anyway, they prefer the dark..."
"What prefers the dark?" Malfoy asked, panicked. "What did he say prefers the dark--did you hear?"
"Ready?" Hagrid asked, enthralled, looking around at his students. "Right, well, I've bin savin' a trip inter the forest fer yer fifth year. Thought we'd go an' see these creatures in their natural habitat. Now, what we're studyin' today is pretty rare, I reckon I'm probably the on'y person in Britain who's managed ter train 'em--"
"And you're sure they're trained, are you?" Malfoy asked, fear growing evermore in his voice. "Only it wouldn't be the first time you'd brought wild stuff to class, would it?"
The Slytherins murmured agreement and a few Gryffindors looked as though they thought Malfoy had a fair point too. Harry balled his hands into fists; if Malfoy refused to listen to Hagrid when he gave him instruction, of course he'd end up in the Hospital Wing...
" 'Course they're trained," Hagrid scowled, hoisting his dead cow a little higher on his shoulder.
"So what happened to your face, then?" Malfoy demanded.
"Mind yer own business!" Hagrid snapped. "Now if yeh've finished askin' stupid questions, follow me!"
Harry turned and walked into the forest with Hagrid, di Angelo begrudgingly (but willingly) dragging his feet a few paces behind him. "Now, listen, di Angelo," Harry hissed, "I know for a fact Umbridge is inspecting today. If you put one toe out of line, you're done. And control Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, would you?"
Di Angelo looked like it was taking all his willpower not to smack Harry across the face. "I'll try," he choked out, after almost a full minute of silence.
Blaise and Hestia (as well as Ron and Hermione) attempted to get di Angelo's (or Harry's) attention, but they both ignored the silent and confused pleas of their friends to walk in silence deeper into the Forbidden Forest. After ten full minutes of walking, Hagrid took the cow off of his back, and thrust it onto the ground with an audible grunt. Many students hid behind the thick trunks of trees, glancing around as though waiting for some beast to attack them, but Harry dragged di Angelo right to the front. Ron and Hermione caught up with them within seconds, giving Harry more confused glances and eyeing di Angelo.
Harry didn't respond.
"Gather roun', gather roun'," Hagrid encouraged the students, with little luck. "Now, they'll be attracted by the smell o' the meat but I'm goin' ter give 'em a call anyway, 'cause they'll like ter know it's me..." He turned, shook his shaggy hair out of his face, and shouted the oddest bird call Harry had ever heard.
After a few minutes of Hagrid's wailing, an animal appeared. A pair of blank white eyes were glowing in the dark of the Forbidden Forest; as it walked Harry could make out a dragon-like face, then the skeleton of a black horse, and strong, feathered wings.
The winged horses! If Hagrid knows what they are, maybe I'm not going mad after all.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw a flash of recognition from di Angelo. He must've seen these winged horses too, perhaps for the first time this September, perhaps not. They couldn't be Horcruxes, could they?
No, Hagrid wouldn't bring any kind of dark magic into class. These must be something else.
Most of the class couldn't see them, though, beyond di Angelo, Harry saw surprised expressions from Neville, and some Slytherin boy.
"Oh, an' here comes another one!" Hagrid said proudly, as another winged horse appeared out of the dark to join its friend at the cow meat. "Now... put yer hands up, who can see 'em?" Harry, di Angelo and a few others raised their hands. "Yeah... yeah, I knew you'd be able ter, Harry. An' you too, Neville, eh? An'-- "
"Excuse me," Malfoy sneered. "But what exactly are we supposed to be seeing?"
Hagrid pointed to the cow on the ground, where the winged horses were eating. A few people gasped; Parvati squealed in terror. Harry imagined what they must've seen, strips of cow flesh disappearing into thin air. "What's doing it?" Parvati demanded, scared out of her wits. "What's eating it?"
"Thestrals," Hagrid announced. At last, Harry had a name. Thestrals. "Hogwarts has got a whole herd of 'em in here. Now, who knows--?"
"But they're really, really unlucky!" Parvati interrupted, face growing alarmed. "They're supposed to bring all sorts of horrible misfortune on people who see them. Professor Trelawney told me once--"
"No, no, no," Hagrid cut her off, chuckling, "Tha's jus' superstition, that is, they aren' unlucky, they're dead clever an' useful! 'Course, this lot don' get a lot o' work, it's mainly jus' pullin' the school carriages unless Dumbledore's takin' a long journey an' don' want ter Apparate--an' here's another couple, look--"
Two more thestrals emerged from the trees; one of them passed inches from Parvati. "I think I felt something, I think it's near me!" she squealed.
"It is," Harry heard di Angelo mutter to himself. "Chill."
"Don' worry, it won' hurt yeh," Hagrid reassured her. "Righ', now, who can tell me why some o' you can see them an' some can't?" Hermione's hand shot into the air, like usual. "Go on then."
"The only people who can see thestrals," she answered, "Are people who have seen death."
Harry closed his eyes and rubbed a hand on his forehead, doing his best to repress the memories of last June flooding into his brain. Only di Angelo was close enough to notice, and, though he raised an eyebrow, he said nothing.
Of course you can see them. Who did Daddy ask you to kill?
"Tha's exactly right." Hagrid beamed at her. "Ten points ter Gryffindor. Now, thestrals--"
"Hem, hem." Harry jumped at the noise; he realized with a jolt that Umbridge was standing a few feet away from him and di Angelo, her green cloak tied tight and clipboard at the ready. Hagrid, who never heard her fake cough before, stared bewildered at the nearest thestral, assuming it had made the sound. "Hem, hem," Umbridge repeated, each noise a little more emphasized.
"Oh hello!" Hagrid greeted her, finally noticing she'd been standing there.
"You received the note I sent to your cabin this morning?" she asked, as though talking to an infant. "Telling you that I would be inspecting your lesson?"
"Oh yeah," Hagrid confirmed. "Glad yeh found the place all righ'! Well, as you can see--or, I dunno--can you? We're doin' thestrals today--"
"I'm sorry?" Umbridge asked loudly, cupping her hand around her ear and frowning. "What did you say?"
Hagrid looked a little confused. "Er-- thestrals!" he repeated, his words also raising in volume. "Big-- er-- winged horses, yeh know!"
He flapped his arms, which made Umbridge raise her eyebrows, then make a note on her clipboard and mutter, " 'has... to... resort... to... crude... sign... language...' "
"Well... anyway..." Hagrid continued, turning back to the class with a bit of a confused expression. "Erm... what was I sayin'?"
"'Appears... to... have... poor... short... term... memory...'" Umbridge muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear her. Malfoy looked so happy he was about to burst, but Harry's vision tinted red.
"She's trying to paint him as some kind of oaf!" Harry hissed through gritted teeth.
"No shit," di Angelo shot back.
"Shut it, you. Now," Harry snapped, even more furious. Di Angelo, smartly, refrained from making another sarcastic comment.
The rest of the class went on like that, Umbridge painting Hagrid to look like a bloodthirsty monster to Malfoy's delight and Harry's anger. Di Angelo said next to nothing the entire class; he kept his head down, only speaking in defense of Hagrid against Malfoy's snide remarks, as Harry had instructed him to. By the time they left the Forbidden Forest, Harry felt as though smoke was bursting from his ears.
"That foul woman!" Harry exclaimed to no one in particular. "If she throws out Hagrid--"
"Don't look at me," di Angelo mumbled. "I didn't do anything."
"Hogwarts. Now. There's an empty classroom by--"
"The Great Hall, I know," di Angelo finished for him. "Don't you have class?"
"Don't worry about me," Harry said through gritted teeth. He was not in the mood for more snark. "And, if you'd like to keep stalling, Zabini and Carrow are--"
"This way," di Angelo interrupted, outright running towards the castle to put distance between himself and his friends. With a smile, Harry followed.
"What did you mean, when you said you were a monster?" Harry demanded the moment they were alone.
Di Angelo stared at the floor again. "Nothing, I just--"
"Not good enough."
Di Angelo gave an anxious sigh. "I'm not normal, but you already... know... that. I'm dangerous; I'm my own agent, I always have been. Sometimes... sometimes that makes me do stuff no hero would do."
"Like what?"
"Like kill my own sister."
You already knew he was a psychopath, Harry. Just get on with it.
"Lares. They anything close to Inferi?"
Shock and confusion flashed on di Angelo's countenance before he responded. "No... they're much worse than di-- I mean, Inferi."
"They're their own agents?" Harry pressed, remembering what Hermione had found weeks ago in the library.
"Yeah." Di Angelo let out another shaky sigh. "Even I--even my father--has almost no control over them. But, when they fight for us, they think like humans instead of minions, like the Inferi. Kind of like your ghosts here."
"Is that why you're at Hogwarts, then? To study the ghosts, and use them to improve your control over the Lares?"
"What?" Di Angelo asked, taken aback. "No--we just stumbled on them--"
"So, it's just the horcruxes, then," Harry concluded. "What are they? What does your father want with them?"
Di Angelo started hyperventilating, pulling at his hair and rocking back and forth. He looked so pitiful, Harry almost let him off the hook.
Almost.
"Who's your father?" Harry pressed. Di Angelo would crack soon, he knew it. "Is he a Death Eater?"
"Death-- Death serves my father," di Angelo managed, voice cracking with each breath. "Not the other way around."
"What does that even mean?!" Harry yelled, getting frustrated. "Stop stalling, you--"
The tap-tap-tap of footsteps cut Harry off. Di Angelo sprinted for the shadows, Harry swore he melted into them to avoid sight. Harry, who'd left his Invisibility Cloak in his trunk like an idiot, had no time for such a plan.
"Mr. Potter?" McGonagall asked, appearing outside the doorway. "What are you doing out of Herbology?"
"I.. uh..." Harry stammered, avoiding McGonagall's stern look.
"I do not appreciate my students cutting, Mr. Potter. I will see you in my office tonight for detention, where you will write an apology to Professor Sprout."
"But--"
"If you do not continue back to the greenhouses, that day becomes a week. Now, go."
Harry threw a glance towards the shadows, in case di Angelo could still see him. A glance that read, 'we're not done here.' Then, McGonagall ushered him back to Herbology, and away from his chance to break the stupid, lucky, cunning Death Eater's son.
Harry didn't see di Angelo the rest of the day--or, more likely, di Angelo avoided him for the duration of the day. His detention came and went, and, before he knew it, the sun had set.
It was the final DA practice before Christmas holiday.
They reviewed the Impediment Curse and Stunning; by the time the lesson ended Harry was in a slightly better mood. Still, thoughts of his interrogation ran through his mind. How did death serve Mr. di Angelo? Why had di Angelo killed his own sister? What were Horcruxes? Why was di Angelo so resistant whenever he got close to revealing his father's identity?
Ron and Hermione left before he did; he stayed back because Cho was still there and he wanted to talk to her alone. They hadn't spoken much since that day in the Owlery, not even when Hermione noticed her staring at him in the Hog's Head. He busied himself straightening cushions until only he, she, and Marietta Edgecombe stood in the D.A. headquarters.
Then, Harry caught four words that made his heart jump all the way into his throat. "No, you go on."
Marietta left, and Harry continued to straighten the cushions. He was too nervous to turn around, so he instead waited for Cho to speak. When she didn't, he forced himself to turn and--
She was crying.
"Wha... at's up?" he asked, taken off-guard.
Cho shook her head and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "I'm-- sorry," she apologized. "I suppose... it's just... learning all this stuff... It just makes me... wonder whether... if he'd known it all... he'd still be alive..."
At those set of words, Harry's heart sank back into his chest, then settled in his stomach. He should've known she'd want to talk about Cedric. "He did know this stuff," Harry reassured her, trying not to sound too disappointed. "He was really good at it, or he could never have got to the middle of that maze. But if Voldemort really wants to kill you, you don't stand a chance."
Cho hiccupped at the sound of Voldemort's name, but stared at Harry without flinching. "You survived when you were just a baby," she half-whispered.
"Yeah, well," Harry grumbled, moving toward the door, "I dunno why, nor does anyone else, so it's nothing to be proud of."
"Oh don't go!" Cho cried, tearful again. "I'm really sorry to get all upset like this... I didn't mean to..." her voice trailed off. She hiccuped again; Harry couldn't help but notice how pretty she was, even with red and puffy eyes. He felt miserable; he would've been floating on air with just a Merry Christmas... "I know it must be horrible for you," she continued, wiping her eyes on her sleeve again, "Me mentioning Cedric, when you saw him die... I suppose you just want to forget about it..."
Harry said nothing. She was right, of course, but it seemed heartless to respond with, 'yeah, never talk to me about your boyfriend's death ever again.'
"You're a r-- really good teacher, you know," Cho complimented him with a small smile. "I've never been able to stun anything before."
Harry replied with an awkward, "Thanks."
They stared at each other for a long few seconds. Harry wanted to run from the room, but his feet refused him such a luxury. "Mistletoe," Cho noted, pointing at the ceiling over his head.
"Yeah," Harry agreed, his mouth dry. "It's probably full of nargles, though."
Cho furrowed her eyebrows. "What are nargles?"
"No idea." Harry's brain hummed on overdrive, hyper aware of how close she now stood. His thoughts felt Stunned. "You'd have to ask Loony. Luna, I mean."
Cho made an odd noise in her throat, caught between a laugh and sob. She stood inches from him, now. He could have counted the freckles on her nose. "I really like you, Harry."
Then, she kissed him. He couldn't believe it, couldn't comprehend what was happening, couldn't remember to breathe. Here she was, the beautiful, Quidditch-savvy Ravenclaw girl who'd rejected him last year, kissing him in the Room of Requirement. All thoughts of di Angelo raced from his mind, leaving only thoughts of Cho. He could see tears clinging to her eyelashes, could taste the warm wetness of the kiss, could feel the way her lips moved on his...
Harry pulled away first, mind blank, as though her kiss cast some spell over him. Cho gave a shy smile, then grabbed the bag she'd dropped on the floor. "See you, Harry," she said, then ran from the room, blushing.
It took Harry more than a few minutes to gather his thoughts; then he set off for the Gryffindor common room, memories of his first kiss running through his head. He was so distracted that his feet carried him to the dungeons, rather than the Gryffindor Common Room. When he finally realized where he was--a couple of yards from the Slytherin common room--he cursed at himself, then turned to retrace his steps.
The sound of ardent breaths stopped him from leaving.
Harry didn't know what he expected; maybe di Angelo still hyperventilating over his pile of dark secrets, maybe Zabini or Carrow reacting to finding out di Angelo's secret, maybe Crabbe or Goyle attempting to read a book. The one person he did not expect? Draco Malfoy.
But, there he was, back against the wall, knees to chest, eyes fixed on the wall in front of him, struggling to breathe properly. "Malfoy?" Harry asked, more confused than concerned. "What the hell...?"
"Di Angelo talks in his sleep," Malfoy whispered, face white as Nearly Headless Nick's. "He-- he--" Another shaky breath overtook him.
"He what?" Harry demanded, now kneeling next to Malfoy, face inches from his. "What did he say?"
Malfoy swallowed hard. "It's not-- it's not possible--he can't be--"
"What?! Malfoy, what did he say?!"
"His-- his father-- "
"Name? You have a name? Who is his father? What did he say?"
Malfoy looked up at Harry for the first time, with utter and complete terror in his eyes. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Try me."
END NOTES
DON'T KILL ME
DON'T KILL ME
I BEG OF YOU DON'T KILL ME
...
(because you'll want to save killing me for later down the road)
I'll answer all comments tomorrow. I've been swamped with work. Ugh, so tired.
This week's beta commentary:
STORY: "Anthony Goldstein, by the way. It's Nick, right?"
LISSY: This entire scene is literally an excuse to get that one Jewish wizard in my story somehow. I LIKE SELF-REPRESENTATION OK?!
SARA: YES GOOD
SARA: also no suicide so EVEN BETTER
LISSY: I agree!!!!!
GIULIA: HOORAY FOR JEWISH WIZARDS