Not Dead Yet

1991 October

"…and that is why vampires are dangerous more dangerous than werewolves," The student finished. Alana was ready to jump off the astronomy tower with the drivel her fellow fourth years had handed in as their project. Their arguments were based purely on personal bias and selectively chosen evidence. Worst still, professor Quirrell A.K.A. Voldemort had seen fit to subject the entire class to the individual reading of each assignment. Her already endangered sanity was dwindling with every word. At least now she knew why she kept getting Outstanding's in all her classwork. If this was the standard, they may as well let her graduate now. Some of the students had clearly not taken writing classes.

"Miss Vincent, you are up next." The fact that Quirrell managed the sentence without a stutter was a miracle. She had considered many times whether the class was, in reality, a lesson of torture tactics. Voldemort was truly evil if his mind could invent such a painful method of education. She glanced at her assignment. She regretted her life choices. I should have never questioned you, bully-san. Her heart cried at the injustice of it all. Had she known the standard of work expected, she would have put less effort into writing her response to the question: Are Vampires more dangerous than werewolves? The witch stepped up with a miserable look on her face and resolved to read the entire thing in monotone just to annoy the professor. If she had to suffer, by damn Morganna, she would bring him down with her.

"The question of whether werewolves are more dangerous than vampires can be answered neither quickly nor easily," She began with the tone of a dying old man.

"From a purely political point of view, vampires have more influence than werewolves. In countries like Spain, Italy, France and Romania, to insult a vampire would mean certain death. This is primarily because the politics of these countries are heavily controlled by the ancients, an alliance of elders who are dispersed between the separate covens. The resources available to vampires and the number of plausible allies far surpass that of werewolves, especially those in Britain. In a one-on-one encounter, a wizard would be fine as long as they keep their distance and burn the body. However, this is contingent on whether they recognise the individual as a vampire in the first place. Werewolves can be identified by excessive hair, facial markings, the flash of their gold eyes and their habit of inhaling very deeply when they catch a new scent. For a vampire, the only indication is the red pigment in their eyes which can easily be covered by contacts or spells. Assuming they are not a blood-crazed newborn, a vampire will be difficult to differentiate from the common human being. Vampires have the advantage of stealth and resources. However, they will rarely be the first to start a fight. Most will avoid drawing the blood of magical creatures because the scent of it is difficult to remove and another creature may easily recognise it. Vampires are classed as the living dead rather than beasts under magical law."

"In contrast, Werewolves are far more aggressive, especially towards vampires and wizards. In Britain, this is particularly true with the main pack's alpha being notorious for his dislike of any non-werewolf. They are physically stronger with bulletproof skin that will repel most projectiles. They also possess a certain level of resistance to magical spells. On a full moon, a werewolf experiences a boost in magic to the point where they could easily take on several wizards at once and still come out unscathed. Along with this boost comes a loss of sense of self for all but a rare few. Lycanthropy improves all of the senses, including one's ability to sense magic. This is one of the reasons the ministry uses to justify the mandatory registration of werewolves. Turned muggles would pose a risk to the statue of secrecy. Werewolves have a strong sense of community and find it difficult to live alone. This is not to say, however, that a lone werewolf is less dangerous than one in a pack. They can be just as lethal without the support of another hence their rating as XXXXX Beasts. If it the personal choice, I would rather face a vampire than a werewolf. They are more tolerable towards wand-users and generally more polite."

There was silence as she finished her monologue, but she paid it no mind and took her seat. Leoen was looking at her like he had seen the gateway to Valhalla. She was too busy drawing chibi vampires in her book to care about the searching look he was giving her.

"A m-m-most interesting thesis, Miss Vincent. I w-would love to discuss the t-topic f-further but it s-seems the be time f-for lunch," The professor stuttered to the cheers of the class. "W-would y-you stay behind f-for a f-few seconds, M-miss Vincent?"

The witch felt herself groan at the knowledge her monotone had done nothing to disinterest the professor. Truly, Voldemort was a force to be reckoned with. Leoen gave the witch a pitying glance before leaving with Charlotte. If only he knew who was on the back of the teacher's head. Perhaps then he wouldn't be so quick to leave. Then again, there was only so much of the DADA teacher one could take in a sitting. Alana rolled her eyes at her friend's behaviour and settled behind one of the front desks. She rested her chin on her folded hands with her elbows on the desk. She was rather curious as to what the Dark Lord wanted to chat about. Surely, he hadn't discovered any of her sinister secrets.

"I couldn't help but n-notice your interest in the s-subject of discussion today and wanted to s-suggest a few books. You would make a f-fine politician with your attitude," Quirrell began.

"I wouldn't call it an interest, professor. It just seems like something I should know," The witch explained truthfully. "I'm not one for pandering so I don't think I'd much enjoy being a politician." Having the man so focused on her was mildly unnerving. Alana was eternally grateful she was talking to the watered-down version of Wizard Stalin as she was sure the man's full aura would be suffocating with the number of lives he'd taken.

"I s-see. Just a thought. Have you considered a f-future career yet?" The professor asked. He'd settled rather comfortably across from the witch. She wondered if stuttering was as exhausting as he made it look.

"I work on contracts during the holidays," She confided. It hardly mattered to her if the man found some interest in her. He would be dead by the end of the year and have more important things to worry about. Like getting a new body or killing the Boy-who-lived-to-take-all-the-credit-for-killing-the-dark-lord. Wow, that was a mouthful.

"M-marvelous. So f-few ambitious s-students these days."

Alana refused to laugh even when the man looked like Yule had come early. "I was simply bored with playing schoolgirl, professor." She let a sly grin take its rightful place on her face and leaned forward as though sharing a secret. "The world's far more interesting than class makes it out to be," She told him before leaning back to grab her bag. "You'll have to excuse the abrupt departure, sir, but I'm afraid that I'll miss lunch if I stay any longer." It was with those final words that she left. If there was a skip in her step, she didn't notice it.

It was later that day that she received an unexpected invitation from Terence Bagnold, the Ravenclaw prefect and proverbial King of the nest. It was a piece of parchment with a frankly impressive number of charms that invited her to a gathering in the forbidden forest. If that didn't sound ominous and cult-like, she wasn't sure what did. She considered the probability of living to regret her curiosity as she spelled the parchment to indicate her positive response. From the suggestive language of the letter, she had gathered that the event would include more than just Ravenclaw students. She wondered at the implications. She hadn't joined the Ravenclaw court so it was all very strange. It was all very interesting.

Alana made it to the forest in record time despite not intending to rush. The sky was already a pitch-black indicating that night had well and truly fallen. She was not familiar with the forest's twists and turns so she sensibly hid and followed the first cloaked figure to pass by. It was fortunate that she had experience traversing similar terrain before or she would have quickly lost track of the fast shadow. Eventually, they drew near a clearing where she noticed the wards. The witch had cloaked herself as an afterthought that night, so she had the joy of watching the one she had tailed jump seven feet in the air when she landed with a flutter of fabric. "Evening," She greeted the older boy. She had a decent view of his face from her lower height.

"Evening," The boy bit out and slid his wand back into his holster. He considered the fact that she hadn't reacted to its immediate drawing as sign enough that he shouldn't try his luck. Alana hummed approvingly as the boy withdrew and she held a hand up to feel the wards. Pisces was wrapped invisibly around her arm making the task much easier.

"The invitation will get you through fine," The boy huffed out as though it were obvious. She spared him a glance.

"It's bad form to not admire a warder's work," She simply replied. A silencing ward, a sensory ward and several more advanced magical concealment wards were woven together. It was the work of an amateur but by no means bad. Deeming them harmless, she slipped past them with her invitation. Soon after, the boy she had followed joined her.

There was a lull in the conversation when they passed through and Alana vaguely recognised a few members of the Slytherin and Ravenclaw courts. There were a few Hufflepuff and Gryffindor prefects, but the representation was noticeably less. She slipped her hood down without any dramatics and made her way towards her house's court to pay her respects. She was rather curious why the invitation hadn't included 'bring your togs' as the main feature of the clearing was a large pool lined with runes for heating. Her unspoken question was answered soon enough when she spied a girl transfigure her uniform into togs out of the corner of her eye. Well then.

She felt rather small in the room but it was nothing on the atmosphere in Harley's so she kept herself steady with the comparison.

"My King," She greeted Terence with the formal address she dearly hated. She was relieved when he waved away the title and invited her to join the group in the pool. It took all of her patience not to glare at the prefect. He obviously knew she didn't know the transfiguration spell. He wasn't stupid so it was a test. She considered dipping into someone's mind but she doubted anyone present didn't know occlumency basics. So there was her first predicament: disobey her king, the equivalent of inner house suicide, or embarrass herself and say goodbye to any future prospects. This was worse than Mean Girls. It was wizarding society at its finest.

Alana scrapped her brain for any alternative. The few options she could find left her worse for wear. She slipped her wand out thoughtfully. She knew the b.a.r.e minimum when it came to changing clothes. She had tried colour and had to add charms to her own gear before but full transfiguration was infinitely more complex.

So she broke it down. First, she would need to discard her coat. Second, her pants would need to have the silencing spells on them removed, their length shortened and the material's weave changed. Then, the same would need to be done to her shirt. She had never been more grateful to have a wardrobe that consisted mainly of cotton and silk. They were the two easiest fabrics to manipulate with magic. She dragged her wand from her toes upwards to her neck. There was no need for words when multiple spells were being cast. It simply wasn't possible to concentrate and speak fifty words at the same time.

She took longer to complete the full process than it would with a pre-laid transfiguration spell but not by too much. She could feel the drain on her core and hoped she wouldn't have to do anything strenuous for the next hour. With her shoes and socks gone, she stepped into the pool. The water was pure bliss. She could smell several herbs but couldn't have named them if she tried. She was too lost in the fact that her muscles were relaxing for the first time in aeons. She was only fifteen but everyone who cared enough to look could see well-defined muscles and the small tattoo on the back of her right arm. Her body bore the signs of enhancement rituals and a well-developed magic core.

The tattoo had been a gift from one of her clients after she'd helped them with a poisonous pixie infestation. It was a Merizi tattoo in the shape of a lotus. The tattoo pulled a sample of any poisons and potions that entered the body towards it so they could be identified by a mediwizard. It was mostly used for making antidotes, but she had yet to find herself in a situation where she needed it. Alana sunk neck-deep into the water and gave Bagnold a sharp smile. Whatever was in the pool was restoring her magic reserves very quickly.

Terence seemed content to let her stew in her juices so the witch took to people watching. Concern continued to bubble in the back of her mind as she considered the possible reasons for the boy's sudden animosity. There was the possibility that he sent the invitation to test her but it wasn't his style at all. She was still pondering the possibilities when the blond toddler showed up looking distinctly uncomfortable despite his efforts to look like he owned the place. Alana's eyebrows shot upwards at the unexpected addition. Sure, Malfoy was high up on the social ladder but inviting him to such a function was the equivalent of throwing him to the wolves. The event seemed to be an annual thing, so she was would have assumed his father would have properly warned him. It was like watching a sheep step into a lion's den.

Curiously, the young Malfoy was accompanied by the fifth year Marcus Flint who looked ready to tear into anyone who got too close. The blond stood a bit straighter as he crossed the wards and found a nearby rock to lounge on. He carried all the grace of a young King Arthur and none of the skill to back it up. It was laughable really. Alana blinked lazily at the boy before shifting her attention elsewhere. She had noticed a few familiar faces amongst the attendees since arriving, namely Percy Weasley, Rowan Blackwood and Illumi Volkov. It was nice to know the Fencing Club was well represented. Rowan had been giving her curious glances the whole evening, but she could only shrug in reply. His guess was as good as hers as to why she was invited. She received the answer in the form of a scathing comment.

"Not going to pay respects to the Slytherin Princeling?" Penelope Clearwater asked with a hint of mocking in her voice.

Alana couldn't help but chuckle at the fifth year. "Why ever would I do that?" She was genuinely curious. While she had spoken to Draco on a few occasions, most of the time she was just insulting him tactfully. What did it matter if she made sure he picked up a few good habits in the process? Clearwater was frowning at the reply and moved to whisper something in Bagnold's ear. She was tempted to call them out on their obvious assumption but thought better of it. If they had thought she had pledged allegiance to another house, they needed their sight checked.

She was mildly placated now that she knew why Terence had been acting like a lover scorned. He thought she'd been cheating on him with the snakes. How cute. She wondered if he'd planned to make an example of her. His gaze met hers and she deadpanned at the emotion she saw there. He was… still going through with it. She exhaled in realisation. You could hardly expect a King to take back a decree. While envisioning her future demise, she didn't notice the approach of Flint who spoke up as soon as he reached her.

"Draco wanted to talk to you about your contract." Dear Merlin, the brat knew how to get a reaction. A few eavesdroppers reeled back in surprise and the majority of Ravenclaw was sending her glares. 'Deep breaths. Non-murderous thoughts. Positive energy. I am positive that I want to strangle someone.' It took her several seconds to collect her thoughts before she was leaping out of the water and throwing on a cloak. A wandless drying spell was cast where prying eyes couldn't see and she made her way over. Malfoy was in the middle of being cornered by an older Slytherin when she arrived. It seemed Flint's absence had attracted flies.

"Good evening, Draco." She purred whilst smoothly intercepting the offending Slytherin's attention. She didn't recognise him so she doubted he was important enough to be righteously offended.

"Alana," Draco greeted her with a nod. She noticed his shoulders relax and wanted to slap him for lowering his guard so soon. He says he wants to talk and suddenly she's playing his knight in shining armour. The kid needed help of the mental kind.

"We were talking," The older Slytherin interrupted then followed with a curious, "Who are you?"

"Who am I? Now that's hardly the way to ask," Alana reprimanded lightly. It was almost comical given her height disadvantage, but she was letting off all kinds of warning signals in the minds of spectating Slytherins. They couldn't protest either. The Slytherin had made the rookie mistake of not asking to be introduced when Malfoy had declared her his acquaintance greeting her by name. Alana didn't bother to mask her sharp gaze and instead let it be the main feature of her persona. Her eyes were matched by the smooth movements of a prowling predator. The transformation was so swift that it left a few off-kilter. Draco, who had adjusted to her shifting presence only patted the seat next to him with a faux apologetic smile.

"Now, now, Alana, you can hardly expect everyone to follow etiquette." Draco paired the insult with a soft smile that suited him rather well. She felt rather proud of the child and decided to play along for his sake. Her bridges with Ravenclaw seemed to be burning at the moment anyway. She placed herself beside him and eyed the Slytherin who had decided to have a go at the Malfoy heir.

"Won't you introduce me to your… acquaintance, Draco."

"Alana, this is my recent acquaintance, Justin Kimberly. Kimberly, this is my lovely mentor, Alana Vincent." For once, Alana was glad for the strange method introduction the purebloods used. They made it crystal clear where you stood with someone. She managed to clip her surprise as the bud before it bloomed on her face. Instead, she sent the boy a sly smile. Being a mentor was a big deal. It meant you had the right to step in as the second (the backup) in a person's duel and to offer council. It was one of the most highly regarded methods of creating inter-family alliances. The fact that Draco had used it on an unknown variable like her would bring equal benefits and trouble. He was an idiot but she would ignore that fact for a while.

"Oh, 'lovely' am I?" She teased lightly. She appeared the older sister making fun of their younger sibling. It was intentional and her words carried her criticism of his word choice. She knew the Malfoy's were looking at a marriage contract with the Parkinson's and calling another girl 'lovely' could be easily misinterpreted.

"Would you prefer 'annoying'?" Draco inquired and she chuckled at his gall. Kimberly was looking increasingly uncomfortable standing where he was and made to leave.

"I don't believe we finished introductions, Kimberly." Draco reminded him just as he was about to turn. The boy looked close to tears with the realisation of his social faux pas. Turning your back when being introduced couldn't be interpreted as anything other than an insult.

"Merry met, Kimberly," Alana supplied helpfully, and the boy quickly returned the gesture. He practically fled after that. She was sure he'd be receiving the criticism of his parents for his actions by tomorrow night. Now that the nuisance was gone, she turned to the young heir. "Flint seemed to be under the impression that you wanted to speak to me."

"I heard that Bagnold was planning on making an example of you," He answered in a whisper. She quirked her lips. She was sure the entire area was ridden with eavesdropping charms.

"I know," She replied.

"You do?" Draco looked up surprised.

"Hmm… He's not very good at hiding his intentions, or rather, he wants me to know he has plans."

Draco shot her a look that asked if she needed any assistance. She smiled a bit before her eyes darkened. "I'll be fine, little dragon. No need to fret." For once, the blond didn't explode in indignation at the name and instead nodded calmly. Ah, they grow up so fast.

They say adversity builds character. Alana much preferred the phrase: adversity reveals one's character. She hadn't known what sort of example Bagnold had in mind but when she felt the presence of wizard creeping up behind her she felt… disappointed. Maybe they had looked down on her because she was homeschooled or maybe they just held that little faith in the education system. Either way, it was anticlimactic. The owner of the wand pointed at her back slowly circled to her front.

"Can I help you?" She asked with a bored tone and stepped up so as to distance herself from the younger Malfoy. The only reply she received came in the form of a spell whizzing inches from her face. "I really hate repeating myself," She advised the wizard. He was in Slytherin fifth year surprisingly enough. She wondered when Bagnold had found the time to convince one to do his dirty work. It was unlike the house to agree to do the legwork.

"You've been walking about claiming you're a pureblood for the past year but I know the truth! There's no pureblood Vincent in Europe. You're just another filthy half-blood with their nose stuck in a book because they can't cast a single spell!" The boy yelled and suddenly it wasn't such a mystery how Bagnold had roped him in. Alana wanted to punch something very badly. There was only so much stupid a person could take.

"I don't claim to be anything except what I am, dear, and you can hardly blame me if you lack the resources to understand that. If you are so sceptical of me, you are welcome to try but I'm in no mood to humour anyone at present."

Another spell passed her face and she sighed. What fifth year took three tries to land a spell? She stepped left and avoided the next as though it were as easy as breathing. "You are trying, yes?" She couldn't help but ask. She could have just let the boy win and called it a day. He was a year after above her after all and there was no shame in losing. However… She ducked another spell… Draco had named her his tutor and she'd be on the hit list for many Slytherins vying for the position if she didn't make her point now. The real question was how far she was willing to go. The next spell came and she deflected it back with a soundless paralysing jinx. The boy threw himself out of harm's way. "This is getting us nowhere," She commented.

The entire display was one she found extremely embarrassing and yet, it was still attracting attention. Some look amused by the display while others paid no mind. It was a new level of low for the renowned criminal. She finally relented to her inner d.e.s.i.r.e and through several spells in the boy's direction. The first portion of spells were dodged while a shield blocked the second. The shield, however, didn't belong to the boy. The dark-haired Ravenclaw was someone she did recognise. She was one of the quieter seventh years in her house. She glanced between the boy and girl and noted the similarities.

"Despite my brother not initiating a formal duel, I hope you'll allow him a second." The girl was much more level-headed than her younger brother, a fact she found most gratifying. Her politeness had her lowering her wand in acquiescence. Terence Bagnold had a pleased look in his eyes that told her more than she needed to know about the situation. He had planned it meticulously.

Once the younger brother had been removed from the area, the two witches took their positions across from each other. By this point, everyone in the clearing was gathered around to watch. Alana brought her wand up to her head and then to her side after one of the Hufflepuffs explained the rules. "First blood wins, no irreparable damage, no informing of the teachers by the duellers or spectators." There were no stakes on the duel other than the reputation of the participants. The girl across from Alana, Maerwyn, was the first to cast. Her spell was vicious and to the point. It said more about the girl's character than it did cause damage. Alana dodged it, shifting out of the traditional duelling stance that only someone who wanted to die would use. She was returning fire eagerly in but a second. There was certain feline grace that didn't go unnoticed, especially by the only Volkov present. Maerwyn was quick to match anything Alana threw at her and it soon became apparent that neither would have any luck wearing the other down. The battle switched from that point.

Maerwyn pulled the ground up from beneath her opponent and froze it over in the next instant. It was clear that she excelled in terrain shifting magics. Meanwhile, Alana manoeuvred as though the ground were no different from its original flat self. There were no excessive wand movements, no wasted breaths, no bursts of dramatic spell work. Each spell was controlled and focused with the intent of winning. It was a very Ravenclawesque duel with both witches prodding for faults in the other's style. When they came up empty, they pushed harder.

Alana had to stop herself from summoning Aquarius by accident a few times during the duel. It was more out of habit than need as Pisces was still curled around her bicep. Thankfully, she hadn't cast anything illegal on accident. She hadn't realised her repertoire was so limited. It was weird to realise the majority of her spells were of the INSTANT DEATH variety. She turned the icicles Maerwyn had just fired into butterflies that flew into her face. Another attempt at a silencing spell followed that along with one that caused the ground beneath her to cave in. Eventually, Alana caved and started to cast wordlessly.

The ground was thoroughly torn apart when Maerwyn began to show signs of tiring. Earth magics were naturally more demanding than other branches of magic and it showed later into the duel. In terms of stamina, Alana would outclass most simply due to experience in conserving energy. She had learnt the hard way to keep tabs on her core. She shot another two paralysing jinxes with two support spells that caused one to speed up directly towards her and the other to bend in its trajectory and hit her from the side. Maerwyn managed a last-minute full-body shield that pulled at her core demandingly. Alana didn't give her the time to recover and knocked her out with the sleeping spell somnio. Her wand was tucked away after she'd disarmed the other witch and she turned to the referee. The Hufflepuff had been forced a good distance away by the duel but called the victor as soon as she turned to him.

Alana flexed her fingers and found them slightly cramped from where they had gripped her wand. She frowned lightly. Draco looked extremely proud of himself. You would have thought he had been the one duelling. Most of the spectators were still in shock at how far the duel had escalated and the outcome of it. Alana stretched her arms tiredly. She still needed practice in using simpler spells. She was about to return Maerwyn's wand and wake the witch when she felt the familiar heat of an incoming hex. She didn't even bother to turn this time. She had already told the boy that she hated repeating herself and there was no wand in her hand to cast a shield. She dodged the spell and in a split second, the boy's wand was plucked from his loose grasp and his body pinned to the ground. Her magic was scolding hot on his skin as he tried to move. She hadn't tried letting it loose in a while and she was feeling quite restless after the duel.

"Learn how to lose gracefully. It will get you far in life," She advised the boy before knocking him out. She handed him to an unamused Maerwyn once the witch awoke. She was sure the girl would give him a piece of her mind later.

…

"I do hope you've properly considered your choosing me as your mentor," She commented to Draco as they both returned to the castle. Marcus Flint walked beside the pair with his eyes surveying the surrounding forest warily.

"You accept then?" Draco perked up.

"Well, I can hardly refuse when you declared it in front of everyone," She pointed out. "It would be considered humiliating for the both of us when we've publicly accepted. Bagnold will no doubt be plotting to murder me in my sleep for the rest of the year. Everyone knows he's all for inter-house relations but accepting without his permission is essentially treason." She stretched like a cat. Draco looked a bit shaken by the news. "You'd best inform your father. Generally, wealthier houses choose mentors for their experience in parliament. People will see your choice as a weakness, Draco." Her eyes were hard and serious. If possible, Draco went paler.

"No one would dare stand against my father," He replied. There was a tremor in his voice but his resolve was there. It was somewhat impressive even if it was born from ignorance. She rubbed her temples in annoyance. She had her work cut out for her. Quitting wasn't an option if she didn't want Malfoy senior clipping her wings, an art he was extremely skilled at. The older man had a reputation to keep and while he wouldn't disgrace his heir, he would not be too pleased with him either.

Problems. All of these were problems she had to tidy up. Why did it seem as though the world was using her to clean up everyone else's mess? Arrangements would need to be made if she expected to survive long enough to disappear. She hated thinking about the future. It was dangerous territory for her.

"If your father is in agreement, I am willing to take to the political field." The words were hollow without feeling. It felt as though she were signing a death warrant. Whether it was hers or not was the decision she was left to make. "I would not be averse to a contract. If anything, it would likely soothe both our minds."

Oh, how she hated the feeling of sick glee that was welling in her stomach. It went against all rational thought that she anticipated, craved even, the prospect of tearing into someone mentally. The feeling was as entirely uninvited as it was overpowering. She knew her eyes must have been dancing with mischief and delight as she looked down to the boy. "Should you still d.e.s.i.r.e an alliance, it would be best to organise a meeting over the Yule break."

She was playing a dangerous game, keeping one foot in the shadows and the other in broad daylight. She would regret it. Of that, she had no doubt. Lucius Malfoy would do a background check and find nothing. While he was sweltered by his suspicions, she would be the one to offer the truth and her alliance. It was risky but if she could pull it off then she would be able to create some wriggle room where Raymond was concerned. That thought alone was enough encouragement to last a century. She doubted Malfoy would be displeased to learn she had connections with the vampires. Nearly everyone did considering the race's grasp on muggle businesses. She had plenty of cards up her sleeve at this point. It was just a matter of choosing carefully.

Edited 25.10.2019