You are viewing a story from harrypotterfanfiction.com
View Online | Printer Friendly Version of Entire Story
Chapter 33: The Power Behind the Throne
The Power Behind the Throne
Wonderful new chapter image by aim.moon @ tda
On the day the Malfoy’s argued, old friends left the school. Bonne lay on the sedan in her chambers that evening, twirling her sparkling engagement ring on her finger and smiling to herself. Everything was going wonderfully. It would not be long before Salazar made her his wife, she could see that, and she also knew it would not be long before Salazar would have toppled the other Founders and taken over the school, and even Alba itself.
Then she would no longer be a widow who had to scrape and steal for everything she had in her life. She would be a Queen, and she could reform the Wizarding World exactly the way she wanted to. She chuckled at the thought of it; stupid, gullible and easily led Salazar would take her to the pinnacle of human achievement. And it had all been so easy.
Salazar had fallen at her feet like a little lovesick dog. It was laughable that he was one of the most powerful wizards in the world and he had not been able to withstand a little sex appeal. The Founders were willingly tearing themselves apart. Rowena and Godric were barely looking at each other anymore, and Helga was inconsolable over Adrian’s death, hardly a formidable opponent.
Adrian’s death was regrettable, as it was not part of the plan she had slowly been clicking into place over the last few years, but it was only the means to an end. He had been an obstacle these last couple of years; he had been the paternal father-like figure to these orphans who had stopped them warring with each other by keeping the tension to a minimum. Now he was gone, there was a whole can of worms that were just going to burst open, Bonne was sure of it.
The door opened suddenly as Guillaume strode into the room, his arms laden with papers. He threw them down on the table and then laid back into his chair, not looking at his sister. Bonne had to admit this was rather an unexpected problem that had cropped up; Guillaume was not so willing an accomplice now things had got a little messy.
“Where have you been brother?” she asked nonchalantly, continuing to gaze at her ring, only talking to make a highly unnecessary conversation. His enthusiasm for the plan had gone, so now they could not even talk about Mudbloods and Halfbloods and their own purity. He did not even enjoy discussing their noble ancestry. She gazed at him with her cold grey eyes, and he turned to face her, a sense of sadness on his face.
“Helga is inconsolable,” he said pointedly, gazing at her in the most intense way he ever had, “you’ve ruined everything Bonne. Part of the deal was that we did not hurt anyone. What we are doing does not justify the death of a man, and a man that Helga loved so much!” Bonne gave an exasperated sigh, before standing up and leering over her brother.
“I thought you hated Adrian!” she snarled, pacing around him, “I thought you wanted your revenge on him for stealing Helga away from you! I thought that getting revenge on the both of them was what this was all about!” Guillaume stayed rooted in his chair as Bonne continued to circle round him like a bird hunting down its prey.
“I do…I did…but not to the extent that I wanted to see him dead! I wanted to play with hearts – not with lives! But you, you do not care who you stomp over and hurt, you will get what you want no matter who you destroy. Like Salazar, you are going to break his heart! You are going to make him miserable.”
Bonne was riled, “Salazar is just a means to an end. I will have a powerful husband and he will bring down the school. Don’t you see that now is the perfect time to strike? With the grief over Adrian, emotions will be heightened, and none so much as hate. Godric and Salazar did not like each other before this; now they have gone beyond that. Now they loathe each other because they blame the other for Adrian’s death. Can’t you see what I’ve done is helping us!”
“Helping?” spluttered Guillaume, a look of incredulity on his pointed face, “how on earth can you be making it sound like a good thing? Adrian was a good man, he was a Pureblood! There is nothing in this world that justifies his death Bonne! Not even our plan! For this, for this terrible thing you have done Bonne, I am sure there is no redemption for you! I am sure you are going to hell!”
Her grey eyes flickered with fear for a moment, but then she composed herself. She was working towards a higher cause; she would not be punished for her actions. “Brother,” she whispered, the whisper of a threat colouring her tone, “those are dangerous words not to be used lightly. If I am going down, you are coming down with me. You are the one who brought be here, and you have been complicit in the whole plan. If I go to hell, so are you, Brother.”
He watched her for a moment, before saying, “Is this what it has come to Bonne? My own sister blackmailing me to keep me on her side? If those are the depths you have sunk to achieve your aims, you are no sister of mine anymore.” She gave him a ferocious stare, but he ignored her, and turning on his heel he exited the little room, leaving Bonne totally alone.
It was the first Saturday after Adrian’s funeral, and therefore, the first day in which Salazar did not have something to take his mind off his sadness. He lay in his bed, his mind whirring with incoherent fears. Adrian was dead, and nothing would ever be the same again. The youthful dreams they had made together were extinguished. They were now old men.
The door to his room clicked open and Salazar looked up curiously. Bonne was strolling into the room carrying a tray laden with food. Her face was alight with sympathy, and Salazar was suddenly glad for the company. She was the only person in the world who had ever understood him, who thought the same way as him. She would not be judgemental.
“I brought you some breakfast,” she said cheerily, perching herself on the end of the bed while handing the tray to Salazar. Until that moment her had not noticed how hungry he was, and tucked into his food like a starving animal. She watched him for a moment until her face flooded with concern.
“Salazar,” she said coaxingly, stroking one of his legs through the sheets, “are you alright? You look slightly ill!” Salazar gazed at her and smiled. She really was the most caring and considerate person he knew, and was thankful every day that soon he would be able to call her his wife. Her eyes washed over him concernedly, so much so that he knew he could not lie.
“Guilt,” he said sadly, pressing his hand just above his heart, “does it ever go away? Do you ever gain redemption for what you do in life?” Bonne looked at him in utmost confusion, so Salazar continued to speak, “I killed Adrian, one of my best friends, will the burden of his death ever leave me?” At this she shook her head.
“Salazar,” she cajoled, “it’s not your fault. It never was your fault. Yes, you were the one who cast the spell, but you were aiming for Petronilla, not Adrian. It was Godric’s fault. He was the one who refused to release men from the army to protect them as he did not believe Helga. It is him that has to carry Adrian’s death on his shoulders forever more, not you!”
Salazar sighed and laid back down on his pillows. It was true that what Godric had done had made the whole thing much more dangerous. It also showed how suspicious and untrusting he was. He did not even believe Helga’s word. All he cared about anymore was the power he had as Prince Consort, and the fact that he had got one of the most powerful women in the world wrapped round his little finger. It made Salazar sick!
Rowena was too blind to see the truth. While she was presenting the image of being firmly in Helga’s camp – one of absolute neutrality – it was true that she secretly supported Godric. After all, she did still get into Godric’s bed every night. They had children together, and although Bevan, Helena and Artemisia spent their time with an entourage of attendants and tutors, their royal parents still occasionally saw them. That also annoyed Salazar, if he was lucky enough to have three children with the wonderful Rowena, he would see them every day and love them more than life itself.
He had almost forgotten that Bonne was there, until she pushed the tray of food closer to him, “Eat Salazar, you have nothing to feel bad about. You must not let Godric’s guilt rub off on you.” Salazar nodded, and began to nibble the corner of the hunk of bread that was sat on a plate. It was at this that Bonne began to talk, her voice smooth, almost like a lullaby.
“Salazar,” she cooed, “you must not let Godric push you out of your claim to this school. Remember, it was you that encouraged Helga to pursue this idea. He initially abhorred it. He has eventually taken over this school; seducing Rowena, subduing Helga and Adrian’s voices. Only you stood up to his tyranny, and these unfortunate circumstances must not prevent you from continuing to rebel against him.”
Salazar dropped his bit of bread curiously. Bonne’s face was flushed with passion, and she continued breathlessly, “You must make your feelings known! You must confront him!” Salazar thought she had gone slightly mad. It was probably the upset of Adrian’s death that was making her a little delirious. She was a very delicate woman after all.
“Bonne,” he said weakly, “this is no time to confront Godric about anything!” Bonne however, seemed to think it was, and she grabbed his hand, knocking the breakfast tray off his lap in her fervour. Her eyes were wide, almost with desperation as she squeezed his hand, a demented look contorting her beautiful face.
“I can help you!” she spoke, her voice breathless, “I know things that can help you above all things. Together we can bring Godric down; together you will be able to get everything you want!” Salazar sat up and put his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her, to reassure her that everything was alright.
“Bonne, I can’t. Now is not the time.” She froze, her grey-blue eyes fixed firmly on him. It was clear her mind was whirring, but he could not tell what she was thinking. As ever she was totally unreadable. Then she broke her eye contact and looked down at her hands, playing with her engagement ring as she went.
She nodded sadly, “I know, it must be the mood around this place. I am getting delirious.” She stood up, a contented smile on her face as she turned away from him. “I must go and get ready myself,” she said as she walked towards the door. When she reached it she blew him a kiss, and Salazar couldn’t help but feel a hot blush rise in his cheeks.
“I will see you later,” she smiled as she exited the room, shutting the door tightly behind her. He watched the door for a moment, almost willing her to come back. Bonne was the most gentle and wonderful woman he knew, she was his fiancée, the one he would be pledging himself to for all time. She was his beautiful rose without a thorn, and she would never hurt him.
Not like Rowena with her secret smiles and her one enthralling kiss that she had deigned to bestow upon him all those years ago. Bonne was not a tantalising mystery like Rowena, who was a force of good in the world, a figure who stood for the protection of magical people from everywhere. How could anyone ever compare to the fair Rowena?
As he nibbled on his bread he resolved to clear his mind of thoughts of her. She manipulated and controlled by Godric like everyone else here. If he could just free her from the chains that bound her so tightly, causing her to bleed, he knew she would be his forever. He sighed and pushed the thoughts out of his mind. Today, mundane trivialities would take over, not grand dreams of Rowena finally being in his arms.
Bonne marched angrily back up to her room. Not only was Guillaume being an insufferable fool, Salazar had actually refused to do something she had suggested. It was infuriating, and she stomped up to her bed and threw herself upon it, letting out a mighty thump, her hair and dress billowing out as she did so.
Salazar’s independence was scaring her. For her plan to succeed, she needed him totally under her control, and some days, it seemed as if he was. He would be loving and attentive, dedicated solely to her. Other days, however, he seemed distant and drawn, as if he was torn away from her by someone else, looking for another life.
He had not taken her advice on Godric, and it worried her. What could she possibly do to make sure that Salazar would do what she wanted? Then suddenly, she remembered. She crawled towards the drawers next to her bed, and slowly opened the top one, pulling out a folded piece of parchment that lay within.
She unfurled it slowly. This was her weapon. If she used it at the exact right time then she would be able to unravel Godric and the whole school with him. Salazar would be furious when he read this letter, but she was sure it was not quite the right time to use it. She had had it for a long time now, but the correct moment had never come, and she read it with the same enthusiasm as she had the first time.
Dear Mademoiselle Malfoy,
I was interested to read your letter. It is true, my brother Godric has been a thorn in my side for many years, and I would like for him to get a taste of his own medicine, for him to feel the pain he has put my mother and I through, so of course I will assist you.
You inquired about secrets he had. I will start with one that could significantly damage his relationship with my wife, the famous Rowena Ravenclaw. He has, in fact, entered into a secret betrothal with one Kristiana Eriksson, the daughter of our castle herald. The aforementioned Kristiana is now dead, dying in childbirth several years ago, but it still warrants a significant betrayal of dear Rowena’s trust. Throughout this period he was also a notorious womanizer, a habit that I conjecture he did not give up in later years.
The second secret is that he is a thief. The sword that he carries around his belt was destined for me, as the son and heir of my father, but Godric manipulated our poor sick father into handing over his most precious heirloom, leaving myself and my mother quite disheartened. I long for the return of the sword from that unworthy thief.
His third secret is the most terrible of all, and I’m sure if you were to make it known it would lead to the end of his career and his expulsion from Alba. As you know, our father, the Almighty Leif Ravenclaw, God rest his soul, was married to my noble mother, the Lady Mikayla, and I was the only lawfully begotten heir of his body. Godric was born of a sordid relationship between my misguided father and a woman named Alfhild Gryffindor.
Alfhild Gryffindor was one of the most infamous women in Svalbard. She had misguidedly been accorded the position of medicine woman by my grandfather, and during the period became involved in all sorts of Dark Arts, including the enticement of my father away from my faithful and loving mother. Her evil spells and potions resulted in Godric’s birth, which took place a few hours after my own.
Most scandalously of them all, Alfhild Gryffindor was an orphan when she came to the notice of my grandfather; her parent’s having died in a terrible house fire. Her parents were common tanners in the Muggle district of Svalbard, making Alfhild herself a Mudblood. I am sure that when she first arrived in my grandfather’s service she did not have any magical powers, but instead stole her wand from a real wizard. This shameful heritage of Godric’s of course means that he himself is a halfblood, and his unwillingness to share this secret ultimately proves his guilt.
I hope I have enlightened you,
Harald, Jarl of Svalbard
She had to wait for the ideal moment to give this to Salazar. At the moment, he would accuse her of consorting with the enemy. She had to wait until the tension blazing with a cursed fire to hand this letter to Salazar. She had to wait for him to be so furious with Godric that he would overlook her schemes and see what Godric was doing. She had to wait for the right moment to push Salazar over the cliff.
Standing up, she thought she would distract herself for the day, so she walked into her office and stowed the precious letter in the topmost drawer of her desk, securing it with an advanced locking spell. She did not want to think of her plans for the school for a moment, but instead enjoy her day. She planned to go into the Hogsmeade district of Alba as it was now known, notable for its beautiful silks. She needed to find a wedding dress after all.
The sanctity of night brought a hushed silence across Alba. Guillaume knew it was time to act. He knew his sister, and all the protection she would put up, and so had managed to sneak into her room and take the letter, the precious letter of Maud’s whose absence had cost Adrian his life. He knew what to do as he pocketed it.
Along the dark winding passages of Hogwarts Castle he met no one. Not a sneaking student or a frantic teacher. It was quite unnerving, but seemed the perfect setting for what he was going to do. It was, he thought, the right thing, however right betraying your only sibling could be. Bonne would never forgive him for this, but it was a sacrifice he had had to make. She had gone too far.
Out of all the people he could see he knew it must be her. Only Helga may be sympathetic. The years he had known made him understand that she was the most forgiving person he had ever met. It was only right that he should betray Bonne to her, and not leave his sister in the jaws of the vicious and snarling Rowena and Godric. She would never get redemption from them.
He soon reached her chambers. They were bolted tight just as he expected. Helga rarely wanted to see anyone anymore. Her grief pushed her into isolation, fulfilling her duties to the school then hurrying her back to her room to sit in solitude, only allowing Adrian’s precious children to come close. That was why he had to wake her up, to make her see that her grief was getting her nowhere when others were willing to tear her dreams for the school apart.
He knocked briskly, rushing so he would not become afraid and back down. From behind the door he heard footsteps, and then the clicking of the bolts coming undone. The door swung open to reveal Helga. Although it was very early in the morning, she was not yet in her nightwear, and the room was still lit by candlelight, making it evident that she had not gone to sleep.
Helga looked at him irritably, “what do you want Guillaume?” As he looked down at her, something registered in his mind, making him hesitate before replying. Helga did not look as she once had. Gone was the svelte figure that had so entranced him when he had first laid eyes on her, replaced by a rounded, heavy set frame forged by motherhood, and supported by grief. Her eyes were tired and drawn, and there were wrinkles appearing on her face. There were even flecks of grey in her curly blonde hair.
The epiphany hit him like a tonne of bricks. All the love he had for Helga was gone. The girl he had desired and chased once had disappeared into time, replaced by this dour stout lady. She vaguely reminded Guillaume of his wife, Lady Heloise. It struck him that his entire motivation was not to reclaim his love, but to bring revenge on Helga and Adrian. He suddenly felt ashamed of himself; he was an adult pureblood wizard who should not be acting like a petulant child. It pushed him to speak.
“I need to speak to you,” whispered Guillaume directly, “it’s urgent.” Helga paused for a moment, but then widened the door, allowing him to step into the room. The room, once full of light and the happiness of an expectant mother and wife was dark and brooding. Shadows danced along the wall in a way that Guillaume was convinced they had not done before.
“Guillaume,” sighed Helga, “what is so important that could not wait until the morning?” Guillaume did not wait a moment to react; he stepped forward and held out the letter, his sister’s secret that would probably lead to her disgrace and ruin. It was extreme and a dangerous game, but he knew what he was doing was the right thing.
Helga’s eyes alighted on the sight of the letter, and she extended a hand forward. “What is this?” she mumbled, knowing full well what it was. She ripped it open mumbling the words written there, “it is so difficult for me…she is coming for you…I know Adrian loves you dearly…you must protect him at all costs.” The tears were welling in her eyes, but she wiped them away furiously.
“Why do you have this?” she growled venomously, “this could have saved Adrian’s life. If it wasn’t taken from my table then Adrian would still be alive!” She was pointing an accusatory finger at him, her lip wobbling as she looked at Maud’s letter. Guillaume was sure it only highlighted her own failures to her more than ever.
“It was Bonne,” he said slowly, at which her eyes dawned in comprehension, “you told her about the letter as you rushed to find the other founders. She snuck into your office as you left and took it from under your nose, before running to find Salazar as you requested. Bonne is good at hiding her emotions, so you would have never suspected her.”
“But why?” sobbed Helga, her voice cracked and broken, “why in God’s name would she do something so terrible? Now Adrian’s dead doesn’t she feel any guilt at all? What is that important to drive her to ruin lives like that?” The desperate look in Helga’s eyes signalled to Guillaume that he had to tell her, he had to tell her Bonne’s whole plan.
“I came here,” he began slowly, “with the purpose of getting some justice for what I thought was a slight,” Helga blinked in shock, but Guillaume continued, “When Bonne arrived, she was just looking for a home, and was keen on helping me get my revenge on you and Adrian. But then it morphed into something different. She has big ideals. At first she wanted a pureblood school, and now a pureblood Alba. You have to understand, Salazar was the key.”
Helga did not say anything, so Guillaume continued, “I went along at first, but she became more and more power hungry, while I realised my appetite for revenge was not as big as her ambition. She wanted the world. And Salazar, he was already discontent with his lot, already seething at his treatment by Godric and Rowena and ripe for exploitation by my sister. Taking this letter was just another step in the plan, to throw more fuel onto the fire for Salazar’s hatred for Godric. She didn’t want Adrian dead but…her ambition…was monstrous.”
She froze her eyes wide as Guillaume continued, “she wants to use Salazar to rip down the school. She is manipulating him into turning against Godric. You have got to do everything in your power to stop her. You must make Salazar see the errors of his ways, break of his engagement with her if need be. Helga, your dreams are ruined if you do not act!”
Guillaume watched as she stared at him, then spoke, her voice low. “Why are you doing this Guillaume? You wanted your revenge on Adrian and I, I thought you would be glad at his death. Why have you essentially betrayed your sister this way?” Her eyes were full of confusion and pain, something he rarely saw on bonny Helga’s face, at least not before Adrian’s death.
“Because what she is doing is wrong!” said Guillaume forcefully, “she is capitalising on his death, something that should never be done!” He sighed heavily and then put a hand on Helga’s shoulder and shook slightly. He needed to convince her. To his surprise she did not flinch. “Heed my warning, Helga. Do not let Bonne outwit you the way she has done to many others.”
Pivoting on the spot, he turned to face the door and marched out the room, determined not to say any more to Helga, leaving the letter, and the fate of the school, in her hands. But she spoke, her voice gentle, “you will be protected for this Guillaume. I will protect you from any storm that is coming.” He turned round and gave her a brief smile, silently assured in his actions, before turning away and leaving the room.
The next morning dawned bright and early, and Godric decided he did not want to be cooped up in the castle any longer. It was becoming more and more like a gilded cage, and his glittering life was suffocating. There were days when he longed to have no responsibility, to be free as the wind, fighting dragons with Rachel, Salazar and Adrian. But those days were gone, and they were never to come back.
He left Rowena asleep, wrapped up in her blankets, as he changed hurriedly and made for the door. He needed some and air and some peace of mind. Leaving without waking her, he padded out into the open grounds. The cool air hit his face and shocked him awake. He always felt tired and groggy now. It was the daily stress of life in Hogwarts castle. No longer was it some idealistic youthful dream, but a realistic living hell.
It was only then that he spotted something. Over by the Peverell’s old house, adjacent to the stables, was a cart laden with belongings. Furniture, books, papers, clothes, children’s toys and magical equipment were all piled up high, and he could see a silhouetted figure heaping more and more on top. Squinting, Godric changed his directly and jogged down to the Peverell’s, his curiosity overtaking him.
“Godric!” came a gleeful childish voice. Antioch Peverell ran toward him, his arms wide and Godric lifted him up and span him around. The boy screamed in laughter as Godric put him down, then suddenly shouted, “are you coming with us Godric? And what about Uncle Cadmus and Aunt Rachel, and Aunt Helga and Queen Rowena?”
Godric looked at the little boy bemusedly for a moment. Where was he going? Where was Ignotus planning on taking his family? And most of all, why were the Peverell’s leaving? As Godric and Antioch drew nearer the house Godric saw Ignotus loading up the cart, with Coventina having emptied their internal quarters, was now ransacking their abandoned house.
“Ignotus, Coventina,” called Godric. Ignotus looked up, shielding his eyes from the early morning sun. He gave a reserved little smile as Godric stepped forward; close enough to finally talk to him. “What is going on?” asked Godric, trying to keep his composure. Had things finally got too much for them? Had the constant tension and Adrian’s death finally pushed them away?
“We are leaving Godric,” said Ignotus resolvedly, as Coventina hovered by the door. She stepped into the light, before moving next to Ignotus, taking his hand as she gave Godric a resolved stare. It fleetingly reminded Godric of Adrian. Godric could not quite comprehend what they were saying. It was if it were all some elaborate joke.
“Why?” questioned Godric, his eyes moving from Coventina’s peaky resolute expression, to Ignotus’ teary one. It was as if the foundations of Hogwarts were slowly being eroded away by a river, first Adrian, quickly followed by Coventina and Ignotus, fleeing the carnage that was just waiting to happen fearing if they looked back they would be turned into a pillar of salt.
“Why?” said Coventina, half laughing, half crying, “Hogwarts is not what we dreamed it to be. Adrian is dead, and the memory of him lingers here. The students miss him so, and Helga is half the woman she once was. Even Rachel cannot give us a smile anymore. The lifeblood of this place left when Adrian died…and I can’t…I can’t…”
She dissolved into a fresh bout of tears, collapsing onto Ignotus’ shoulder. “Look Godric,” said Ignotus consoling, picking up the train of Coventina’s words, “the memories here are too strong, for the both of us, and it does not mean we do not care for you all deeply. It’s just that Hogwarts is no longer a home for us, and it is time to move on.”
Godric could not help but feel a shiver run up his spine. He himself had been experiencing those exact same sentiments recently. Home was no longer by Rowena’s side, with his children and friends around him. His life was fracturing, in a way that the loss of Kristiana to his seventeen year old self had been. Sometimes, the call of the open road was just too strong and maybe the love of his friends and family was not enough to counter his instincts.
“Where will you go?” asked Godric cautiously, looking from one to the other. There were not many safe places for Wizarding Families anywhere he knew. Maybe they would live a reclusive life on the outskirts of a Muggle Village. Yes, he could see that being the perfect place for Ignotus, Coventina and Antioch, wanting to forget their pasts, never having to explain themselves to anyone.
“The Hollow,” said Ignotus quickly, “it is a farmstead down south. It was in the possession of Sir Bedevere when he married my mother, and as his only two children died it was entailed to Cadmus and I. We have joint ownership. As Cadmus is staying here, he will not begrudge us the lodging.”
Godric could see there was nothing to do to dissuade them but suddenly Coventina spoke, having lifted her head from Ignotus’ shoulder. “If it ever gets too much,” she said, looking up at the looming grey castle, “living here, you are always welcome with us. The reasons for us leaving have nothing to do with you or Salazar,” she paused briefly, “or Rowena or Helga.”
It was clear from her pause that their reasons for leaving were to do with the increased hostilities between Salazar and himself, but he did not like to rebuke them, seeing the warmth in their eyes. “I will help you pack,” he said, almost mechanically, “then you can get on the road south before the real traffic starts.”
And together, they finished loading the cart and as Ignotus began to drive his family away, off into a new life, Godric was the only one to see them go. However, as they disappeared into little specks on the horizon, Godric had the strangest feeling this would not be the last time he would see the Peverell’s.
Hooray! I finally finished this chapter...I'd been getting real writer's block with this story, so had done a bit more on some of my other's, but I finally got it done. The next chapter may take a while as I've got a busy life at the moment but I assure you it is the BIG one that you have all been waiting for.
In the run up to the next chapter, I want to ask you who you think the best villain is in Legendary, your choice is: Lady Mikayla, Harald, Queen Emma, Petronilla, Maud Penny, Lord Guy, Guillaume or Bonne (or anyone else you think is particularly villanous). Also please tell me who your favourite good guy is - it helps me get the inspiration to get this story written!!! Please tell me in a lovely review! Next Time...Bonne puts the final stage of her plan into action...