Fic: No Hiding Place book Four: The Cupboard Under The Stairs (14/32)

[sua_lay]

Title: No Hiding Place: Book Four: The Cupboard Under the Stairs (14/32)
Author: Rimau Sua Lay
Rating: overall NC-17, Angst, Drama, Action/Adventure, First Time
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: Harry/Snape, Ron/Draco, (Sirius/Remus)
Date: December 2002 - ?
Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, am not making any money. Please don't sue. Sherbet Lemon?
Summary for Book Four: -Before you can go forward, you must face your past. Sins of the father may bury the son. Harry will find out if a dog really is the man's best friend.
Warning: This part contains deaths, gore, mention of het rape, explicit sex between men, disturbing themes, angst and a partridge in a pear tree.

The earlier parts of the fic can be found here.

Part 14

The scent of fresh coffee with a hint of cardamom was tickling Harry's nose, bringing a grin to his lips as he walked down the stairs.

He'd woken up early, feeling completely disoriented. It was strange to wake up in an unfamiliar bed, especially with no sounds in the room.

It wasn't as if Snape snored, he usually just breathed evenly, the sound having become as familiar as the soft coughs and mutters he'd heard in the Gryffindor tower for years. This silence was quite unnerving. Opening his eyes, Harry had almost yelped when he'd seen the strange room, wondering where the hell was he.

Then he'd remembered.

This was home now. Smile turning crooked at the silly thought, he'd gone through his morning routines, casting a worried look at Ron's door and deciding against going there until the door was opened.

He didn't linger in the bathroom, startled by his very chatty reflection. After a few comments, he'd decided to ask Snape for the charm to stop the damn mirror from chattering about his appearance.

It didn't take long to get dressed, and then he was almost ready to face this day.

Following his nose, he padded across the small hallway towards the kitchen. Coffee was a homey scent somehow. Sirius always insisted on it early in the morning, saying that nothing else could really wake him up.

Harry was still smiling as he pushed the dining room door open, prepared to see his godfather sitting there with his feet on the table, a cup of coffee in his hand. What he saw was definitely not what he'd thought.

His gaze fixed first on Draco Malfoy who was holding a cup of tea as if it was a lifeline, a mix of worry and determination on his face. It was a surprise to see him here right now, after what had happened last night, but then again it was Malfoy. Maybe Harry should have expected it.

He didn't know if it was Malfoy pride or something Remus had said, but he was actually glad the Slytherin was here now. Then he looked at the others and all thoughts of Malfoy escaped him.

Sipping from his cup, Sirius was leaning back on his chair, his feet firmly on the floor. Next to him, Remus was trying not to laugh as he poured himself some tea. A scrawny young house elf was carrying a tray towards the table. Behind him, another house elf was clearly supervising his movements, glaring at him.

"Eppy?" Harry grinned as she turned her glare at him, genuinely happy to see her again. Realizing he'd completely forgot to ask about the possibility of her coming to work to them, he pushed back a twinge of guilt.

It seemed Dumbledore was still one step ahead of him.

"Can Eppy get you something?" Her voice was just as whiny as he remembered. It also took a while before she managed to blurt out, "Sir."

"Maybe some toast. Thank you Eppy." Barely keeping the smile off his face, Harry sat down next to Sirius.

She glared at him for a moment and then wobbled out of the room, the young house elf following her without words.

As soon as the kitchen door slammed shut, Remus let out a chuckle. "I see you have already met Eppy." He cast a knowing look at Sirius, who was relaxing slightly.

"She was there at the cottage." Had it only been a little over a week since they came back from their little hideaway? To Harry, it felt like eternity, as if the months they had stayed there had only been a dream. "How did she get here?"

"You must ask her. She was already making breakfast when we got here." Remus grinned. "She sure is something. Told Sirius to take his feet off the table and he obeyed immediately."

Looking embarrassed, Sirius muttered, "Well I can't really talk back to someone that old."

The door opened again, and the young house elf scurried to the table carrying a plate of toast. He looked nervous as he planted the plate in front of Harry and then scurried back into the kitchen without saying anything.

"Who's that?" Harry had never seen him before, not even when visiting Dobby in the kitchens.

"He? I think he's Bob. Or something."

Remus swatted at Sirius' arm. "Bobbler." He saw the slight smile and knew that the offhand remark had been completely intentional to irritate him. It was a relief in a way. If his friend continued to treat him like he was made of glass, he would scream.

"Like I said. Bob."

That lead to a small scuffle that didn't end until Hermione walked into the room. Harry sat sipping at his tea, smiling at the very loud Gryffindor behavior.

He had missed that as well.

More tea and toast was soon delivered, and after a very disapproving glance from Eppy, Sirius and Remus settled down to eat. Harry muttered some introductions, deciding to tell more stories about Eppy and her constant disapproval when the house elf wasn't around.

The younger house elf barely stopped to nod before scurrying away looking more or less terrified. Eppy on the other hand banged a plate of toast on the table and glared.

"You will be paying them for their work, right Harry?" Hermione sounded uncomfortable. She had never grown accustomed to house elves and their eager way of serving, and the very grumpy demeanor of this particular house elf didn't encourage her to believe that it was all right to have someone work for her without some kind of compensation.

Eppy's glare focused on Hermione, her ears twitching jerkily. "Eppy doesn't need pay." She sounded offended at the very thought. After a prolonged pause, she added, "Miss."

"But..." Seeing that the glare was definitely getting darker, Hermione nodded and accepted the toast without any further words.

"It takes a while to get used to her, but she really isn't bad." Harry remembered how the house elf had acted the last time he'd seen her and was glad she was here to make their lives a bit more complicated with her grumbling. He forced himself to cast a look at Malfoy, who was doing an excellent job mimicing a statue. "Right, Malfoy?"

An awkward silence fell in the dining room as everyone turned to glance at Malfoy and then tried to look like they weren't staring.

"Yes." It was clear that Draco had no idea what was expected of him, but he nodded anyway. "She is an... intriguing person." Not that he'd ever noticed house elves for their personality, but Eppy was indeed someone he couldn't ignore.

Buttering another piece of toast, Sirius muttered, "You don't say."

Even Hermione seemed to find that amusing, though the looks she cast at Malfoy were barely above freezing.

Breakfast was definitely different from the one served in the Great Hall. It was actually nice to sit around the small table and listen to Remus and Hermione engage in polite small talk. Harry was glad to just sit back and watch, knowing there was no one staring at him or assessing him. A refreshing change.

It gave him hope that things would somehow be all right. Maybe not perfect, but close enough for him to focus on the things he really needed to worry about; the war, the Order. It would be too easy to get lost in everything that was so wrong with his friends or his life and he couldn't afford that right now.

Harry smiled, relaxing more, and then almost choked on his tea as the door banged open, the sound reminding him of Snape.

In his corner of the table, Malfoy seemed to shrink a little.

"Good morning, Ronald." Remus' voice was soft and gentle. "Come on, sit down." He gestured at an empty seat between him and Hermione, as if it had been left there just for Ron.

"Harry. Hermione." Nodding at both of his friends, Ron walked to the empty seat, not looking at anyone for more than a few seconds.

Everyone muttered their greetings back.

It was uncomfortable for a moment, when no one knew what to really say. Harry could see Hermione glance at Ron with a worried expression on her face, but she didn't break the silence either.

When the door banged open to show Eppy bring the morning's paper in, Ron jumped and then gaped at the house elf. The smile on his face was faint, but genuine. "Eppy!"

Grumbling something from under her breath, she slammed the paper on the table and then pushed a cup a little closer to Ron.

The way Ron shook his head slightly made Harry feel a lot better. Even though his friend didn't exactly look happy, he didn't look like everything he said and did was false anymore.

"Tea? Or would you prefer coffee again?" There was no trace of awkwardness in Sirius as he reached out for the pot planted in front of him. He and Ron had got along well ever since the unfortunate rush under the Womping Willow, and they had always seemed to bond over food.

That hadn't changed. "Coffee, please." Nose twitching, Ron reached out for the cup and held it steady as Sirius poured the steaming liquid. "Thanks."

The easy mood was definitely gone, but everyone seemed to do their best not to acknowledge the fact. After a few minutes, when the house elves were once again puttering around, Draco pushed his chair back, getting to his feet. "Thank you," he mumbled with his gaze focused on the easiest target who happened to be Eppy, almost incredulous of the fact that he was actually thanking someone equivalent to a household item.

"Malfoy." It was irritating that Harry didn't know what the hell had happened between Malfoy and Ron last night, but considering how Sirius hadn't maimed the Slytherin, he could bet it wasn't completely Malfoy's doing.

Startled, Draco looked up from the floor and managed a small nod. "Potter." Straightening himself, he cast a brief look around the table. "Granger. Mr. Black. Professor Lupin."

There was an encouraging look in Lupin's eyes.

Draco sighed. It was clear what was expected of him and since the werewolf was living with Potter's godfather, his wish was kind of his command. Keeping his voice as toneless as possible, he muttered, "Weasley."

Ron jolted as he heard his name said out loud and then cast a highly suspicious look at Malfoy. He could see no laughter on his face, but that didn't really mean anything. The calm grey eyes were measuring him, and he was sure that if he looked into them for too long, it would lead to a fight.

He was so tired of fighting with him, he was so damn tired of being angry all the time.

"Malfoy," he said.

Without any delays, Draco walked out of the dining room, his steady footsteps echoing in the house as he obviously headed straight to the stairs.

Ron let out a deep breath.

Responding to Malfoy was definitely not a peace offering, but there had been no real anger in his voice either.

"How are you doing, Ronald?"

Smiling wearily at the way Remus sounded awfully like his father, Ron said, "Better." He didn't look at his friends saying that. He could see that there was genuine worry in Remus' eyes, and added slowly, "I still... miss Fred and I don't want to kill Ma... anyone. So I'd say I'm doing better."

Hermione let out a slight sniffle but hid it well by fussing over her tea.

When no one really commented on what he'd said, Ron cast a brief look at Harry and then grabbed a piece of toast.

"So we're all going to be okay?"

Stunned by Harry's hesitant question, Ron looked back up. There were so many things they hadn't spoken of hanging between them, but to this there was only one real answer. "Yeah. We're all going to be okay."

At least he hoped they would be. Remus had spent hours listening to him and then talking quietly, but he still had no idea what last night had been about. All he knew was that his whole body ached and that he hurt even more inside. He missed his family. He missed Fred.

And it had really been all right to admit that he was indeed grieving. That didn't mean that he wasn't a little ashamed of what had happened last night, but he had the feeling that it was going to be fine.

Refusing to dwell on Malfoy or what had happened -- even though Remus would undoubtedly want to talk about that with him later on -- Ron drank his coffee. He was going to have breakfast now and that was it. Nothing more.

Harry watched Ron eat, wondering if he should somehow get involved with the mess his friend had got himself into. He had first hand experience of guilt and sorrow and madness, but he didn't think his input would help anyone.

It was too close to him, he could feel all the raw emotions tingling on his skin.

Painful as it was, he had to admit that it was best if he didn't even try to deal with Ron's problems. He had enough problems on his own, going to Hogwarts to meet with Dumbledore seeming like the least of them.

A slight touch on his arm made him almost yelp, and he he turned to see Remus' serious expression.

Mouthing silently, "It will be all right," Remus patted his arm gently before offering him more tea. Harry smiled at him beatifically, glad that he didn't have to deal with Ron's confusion.

When he put the teapot down, Harry mouthed in return, "Thank you!" Remus would take care of whatever was going on with Ron; he trusted Remus and knew he'd do what was best for his friend.

Harry was simply going to eat his breakfast and then head to Hogwarts for a private meeting with Dumbledore. He had a hunch his days of wondering what to do were about to end.

The house elves brought more toast and once again everyone concentrated on the food. Eppy glowered at everyone, especially Ron and then slammed another pot of the cardamom -scented coffee in front of Sirius.

Sirius smiled at her, the expression making him look years younger. "Thank you, Eppy." In his youth, he'd always used flirting to hide his confusion. It had always worked with professor McGonagall, turning the stern look into an exasperated smile, so he figured he should at least try.

He saw Eppy's ears twitch with annoyance, but the glare wasn't as deadly as it had been earlier. The house elf muttered slightly to herself as she left the room.

"Always the charmer." Shaking his head, Remus glanced at Sirius. He should have known that would happen.

Sirius grinned, feeling ridiculously proud of himself. "You should know."

Then he realized that the teenagers were all staring at him. He coughed, trying hard to ignore the way Harry's eyes were twinkling with merriment. Lifting the cup to his lips, Sirius turned his attention back to the Daily Prophet he'd grabbed earlier.

The next moment his cup clattered on the table, spilling coffee on the clean tablecloth. The whole room reverbarated with his angry cry, "Those miserable bastards!"

His yell could probably have been heard back in Hogwarts.

It was quiet in the dungeons, the thick stone walls keeping out all the bustling sound from the upper levels of the castle.

After yesterday's excitement, Snape hadn't felt like going to the Great Hall for breakfast. It was still summer vacation, so Dumbledore couldn't insist on his presence. He preferred eating here where he didn't have to be courteous to colleagues.

He'd been up for a while now. It had taken him some time to fall asleep, and when he finally had, he hadn't slept that well. Probably because of the heat.

Refusing to even consider it was because he was sleeping alone again, Snape had stormed into the shower and stood there for a long time. Enjoying the fact that there was no one to harass him or crowd him. It was bliss.

Feeling grumpier than in a long time, he'd finally emerged to his living room, definitely not in the mood to go to the Great Hall for breakfast. If there had been students around, it would have been different; at least then he could have taken his bad mood on some idiot breaking rules.

House elves were always accomondating, and he didn't even bother to intimidate the one bringing him the breakfast tray. He simply shooed him off and sat down, pouring himself some tea before grabbing the newspaper.

Snape squinted his eyes as he took in the first paragraph on the front page. The small movement made him look even angrier than usual. Here, in the silence of his rooms, he didn't have to school his expression at all so he could allow the worry accompany the anger.

'The true story of Harry Potter, the greatest hero of our time!' The header made Snape snort.

So this was what it would be like. Now that Harry was seen as an adult, he'd be the subject of more intrusive articles. The reporters would probably do anything to get a story about him.

He was a bit surprised that there was nothing about the meeting last night. Maybe the wards set around the school had indeed kept the reporters out. They'd get to the story soon enough, he thought. They always did.

Spreading the Daily Prophet on the table, Snape started to read.

By the time he finished with the main article and the smaller ones on page four and seven, he wasn't angry anymore. He was seething with rage, his body tingling with the need to destroy things. Not only because of the condescending way the article had been written, but also because of the contents of the story.

He wondered if it was true; that Harry's relatives truly were the worst kinds of Muggles and that they had abused him as a child, that the rumors circulating in school were actually accurate describing the desolate childhood of...

Snape squeezed the paper in his hands. He wouldn't let his anger burn through him before he had the chance to talk to Harry.

It could all be just a fabrication. There were probably stupid pig headed Muggles in Harry's past, but he doubted they had actually mistreated him. A cupboard under the stairs? That had to be some kind of an inside joke. And the obese boy trying to hide behind his even more obese father in the picture, he was probably suffering from some kind of a glandular problem. Not a great pampered bully.

Because it couldn't be true. If it was, Harry wouldn't be sane. He'd be a suicidal wreck using alcohol and drugs to escape the madness of his life.

Snape knew Harry didn't like his relatives and yet spent every summer with them. Surely Albus would have given him a place to stay if Dursleys really were such monsters!

He looked at the article again, knowing that Albus Dumbledore would do anything to conquer Voldemort. Would even leave a child to suffer with his rigid and sadistic Muggle relatives.

Suddenly, he wasn't hungry anymore.

Deciding to call the house elves to clear out the untouched breakfast, Snape went to the hearth. He wasn't certain what he was about to do. He couldn't contact Harry, and even if he could, he would not do it. He couldn't afford such a gesture; it would simply add to the idiot's delusions about caring.

He didn't want to call the Headmaster either, knowing that Albus would offer him some platitudes instead of the truth he needed to hear.

Angered by the whole thing, he walked back to the table to stare at the Daily Prophet as if it would suddenly reveal him more than he'd already read.

It irritated him, the words printed on the paper making his hands itch with the need to smash something. He watched the two Muggles in the picture again, wondering what kind of people they really were. He wasn't an expert in Muggles.

Except when it came to inflicting pain on them. Snape let the thought wash through him as always when he allowed himself to think about the past. For the first time in decades, it didn't make him cringe with shame.

He took deep breaths. This was totally unacceptable! He should put the paper down again and concentrate on something important. He had work to do, and he'd spent enough time reading through this rubbish already. That firmly in mind, he looked down at the article again.

Maybe one more look at it before he put it away.

The door behind him opened, the very familiar sound of the hinges creaking slightly sending shivers run down his spine.

He spun around, the movement a reflex. He wasn't exactly worried about someone unknown entering. There was only one person besides him who had access to his room uninvited.

"Hi." Harry let the door slam shut behind him, but didn't move away from the doorway. He'd taken the fact that the door still responded to his touch as a good sign, but now that he was here, he wasn't certain how to behave after all.

Snape stared at him, still slightly shocked that he hadn't even thought about replacing his wards. That had never happened before. Harry was the only person he'd ever allowed such access, not even Albus could waltz into his rooms like that. He should have remembered to deal with this.

"Potter," he muttered. The boy looked awful. It was clear that he hadn't slept well last night and there was a tight look around his eyes. "I assume you have seen today's newspapers."

Not exactly the way he had intended to say it, but it was better to blurt it out than to stand here in silence. The uncomfortable silences always seemed to unnerve Harry more than anything.

The only answer he got was a weary sigh.

"I see." Snape couldn't say if Harry's sigh was because of the things that had been written about him or if it was an indication of his physical state. Probably both. "So you have."

Harry nodded curtly. "Sirius and Ron told me about the thing." They had actually shouted out their outrage, Ron finally looking his usual self as he focused on the paper. "And no. Haven't read it. Don't intend to either." He'd read the articles when he'd been younger and had felt like crap after most of them. He didn't need that kind of a feeling right now.

"Are the things there true?" There was no emotion in Snape's voice.

For a brief moment, Harry considered lying to Snape. He knew he wasn't very good at it, especially when it was about something like this, but it might be worth the try.

Then he nodded silently. "Probably." He couldn't say without reading it, but was pretty certain that the reporters had got most of the details right. "Muggles, the cupboard, bars on the window, them hating everything about the wizarding world and so on."

Snape wasn't fooled by the light tone. He kept his piercing gaze on Harry as he asked, "They say the Muggles kept you as a servant. Mistreated you and abused you. Didn't allow you to have any friends or outside contacts." He did not miss the flinch. "Are those things true as well?"

It sounded so stupid when Snape put it that way. Harry squirmed, not really knowing how to explain. Words would never tell anyone just exactly what it had been like to live with the Dursleys. How it had been to watch them pamper Dudley, never having anyone or anything of his own. "I guess so."

A very unfamiliar feeling was filling Snape, surpassing his usual annoyance or even rage. Crumpling the paper slightly, he wanted to incinarate the whole thing. He couldn't believe Dumbledore had allowed this to go on for years and was disgusted by the fact that it was now spread across the whole wizarding world, turning Harry Potter once again into the object of gawking and probably worship as well.

The silence was suffocating. Harry could see the strange mixture of rage and something soft in Snape's gaze. "Don't." He whispered it out, feeling nauseous. "Oh, please don't."

"What are you talking about?" Concerned by the sudden lost expression on Harry, Snape placed the paper on the table.

"Don't feel sorry for me. Don't pity me, or think you need to coddle me now that you know all the bad stuff I've been through." Harry tried to make it sound like he was making fun of the whole thing, but the plea was genuine. He couldn't handle Snape's pity.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "You really do know me so well, Potter. I was just about to start feeling sorry for you." He could see his dry tones made a small smile appear on Harry's lips, feeling disgustingly warm about the whole thing. "Your relatives were cretins. You survived. That's what really matters." He had plenty of other things to say about the Muggles, but held his tongue.

He knew Harry felt guilty about his aunt's death. From what he'd read, he knew that he shouldn't. It was no wonder he wasn't able to really mourn the woman who had abused him as a child.

Harry almost sagged with relief. He'd never really believed that learning about his past would make Snape behave like all those who had wanted to coddle him, but one never knew. Stranger things had happened. "Yeah." He had to agree with Snape.

It was almost as if the word broke a petrifying charm. Snape made a gesture with his hand and then walked to the couch, knowing that he wouldn't have to sit there alone for long.

He couldn't stop thinking about the insanities he'd read about. They didn't paint a picture of an intolerable brat who was well aware of his celebrity and fame. That had all been a notion their world had painted as Harry Potter had returned from the Muggle world.

"I never knew." Musing out quietly, Snape didn't even look at Harry.

Smiling faintly, Harry sat next to him, leaning against him. "I know. You thought I was like Malfoy. A total idiot. A pampered brat who was full of his own fame." He tried to make the words sound carefree, not really wanting this to turn into mush. Snape's words had sounded awfully like... An apology. Or as close as he'd ever get to one.

A snort escaped Snape. "I still think you're an idiot, Potter." He turned to look down at Harry, his eyes glinting with a myriad of emotions. "I doubt anything can change that."

He watched the soft smile caress Harry's lips for a moment. The bright look in his eyes gave enough warning, and he didn't even flinch when Harry leaned against him and kissed him, the movement slow and measured. It was exactly the kind of a foolish gesture that was expected.

Harry was slowly beginning to relax. He'd been tense ever since Sirius had read through the paper, first trying to evade his godfather's questions and then doing his best to stop the man from turning into his Animagus form so he could run to Surrey to kill the rest of his relatives.

Leaving shortly after, letting Remus handle both an angry Sirius and the tense situation between Ron and Malfoy had felt kind of crummy, but he knew there was really nothing else to do. He had to set a line somewhere or he'd be drowning under every single thing begging for his attention.

He'd chosen the part he couldn't escape, letting others deal with the rest.

Of course following Dumbledore's invitation meant he could also have a moment of pure selfishness, but he chose not to tell that to anyone. Sirius was already trying to work with his anger with the Dursleys; no need to add to it.

He was really tired of seeing his almost peaceful life crumble every time he'd started to relax about it. They were at war, he was trying to deal with his friends and family hurting, and now this. To say it was completely unfair was mildly put.

Gesturing at the papers, Harry muttered, "I really don't need that right now."

"No." Snape had to agree with that. "But you'd better get used to it. I doubt they will stop now." He was willing to bet on it.

Harry didn't say anything, he just sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"Are you having trouble sleeping?" Strange how hard it was to make it sound like he didn't really care. Snape hadn't seen this familiar tired look on Harry's face for some time. "Bad dreams?"

"No... No dreams." It made Harry frown slightly. Now that he thought about it, it didn't really make any sense. He hadn't had a nightmare since they came back from the cottage.

Snape raised a prompting eyebrow. "But?" There was always more. He could tell by the careful way Harry was avoiding his gaze.

There were so many things Harry could say. Ron having a breakdown, Malfoy acting almost like his old self but kind of not. He could talk about the meeting or the war or the fact that people had been staring at him on the way from Hogsmeade, staring and whispering, and he was sick of it.

But there was nothing Snape could do about those things. They were his life now.

"I spent half the night tossing and turning." He shrugged. "I'm not used to sleeping alone anymore."

"I know." The admission slipped out before Snape could really stop it, but the glare following it was enough to make it clear that he hadn't meant to say that.

Harry's eyes widened slightly as an expression of pure astonishment spread on his face. He was intelligent enough not to say anything, he simply sat there and smiled at Snape.

It was more than enough.

They ate early lunch together, not really talking about anything. Snape expected Harry to use some excuse to stay for longer; most likely to engage in yet another sexual encounter, and was honestly stunned when Harry simply kissed him, tasting ridiculously of ice cream, and then left for his meeting with the Headmaster.

Watching the door slam shut after Harry, Snape refused to wonder when he'd be back.

---

Comments

[lyr]

I really love Snape's part in this chapter; the way he's grumpily in denial, the rage over the Dursleys, then the almost-apology---it's really quite adorable. Lovely chapter!

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

It's so great to see how Snape's slowly finding that love inside and yet he's still cranky and evil. :X

[xikum.livejournal.com]

Yeah, the whole thing about Vernon & Dudley getting off clean, while Petunia was killed, does really bug me. And the media is true to form - just like RL, they publish anything to make a sale, totally careless of the damage they do to the innocent - that what they do is often as damaging as the original situations.

Sorry 'bout the deletes - daggone typos - I really nead to spellcheck

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

You know, I never did think of it that way. But of course it's weird that she would be the one to die while the men manage to escape.

Sadly, the wizarding media was inspired by the real one. :( I think the work serious reporters do is very important, but damn the vultures working on scandals and sensations totally suck.

:D