Rating:
PG
House:
Riddikulus
Genres:
Humor
Era:
Multiple Eras
Stats:
Published: 09/20/2002
Updated: 09/20/2002
Words: 4,846
Chapters: 1
Hits: 695

Geeks Bearing Gifts

Technomad

Story Summary:
Set in the _Slytherin Rising_ AU originated by J.L. Matthews. When the Ravenclaws' "Quidditch practice session" soaks a Slytherin ex-Seeker, practical joking and paybacks begin to ensue.

Posted:
09/20/2002
Hits:
596
Author's Note:
The response I got on the _Slytherin Rising_ e-mail list for my first "Ravenclaw" fic was good so I thought I'd write some more with those characters.

Geeks Bearing Gifts

by Technomad

(This story is set in the Slytherin Rising alternate universe; all Slytherin Rising characters are © J.L. Mathews; all Harry Potter characters are © J.K. Rowling. All others are © Eric Oppen. No money is being made and no copyright violations are intended with this work.)

Nick Cleveland kicked off from the ground and soared into the warm sunlight. Like all the rest of the Ravenclaws present, he was wearing a bathing suit, and the sun felt good on his skin. He grinned at the sight of the others; Cho Chang, he noticed, had a new bikini, skimpier than the last one, so he knew that Melinda Yang would come up with something that covered even less. This was one aspect of their endless rivalry and feuding that worked entirely to his benefit, and to the benefit of all the men of Ravenclaw House.

When the Ravenclaws had reached an altitude of several hundred feet, just beyond the village of Hogsmeade, they stopped and formed a circle in the air. From where Nick was seated, he could see Hogwarts Castle off in the middle distance; he could see the lake, and he thought that he could see the giant squid waving its tentacles to get the first-years to feed it.

"Is everybody happy?" called the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, a skinny, intense-eyed fellow named Marius Whitsun. "What's the best House in Hogwarts, people?"

A yell answered him, as the Ravenclaws pumped their fists in the air and chanted "RA-venclaw! RA-venclaw! RA-venclaw!"

"Then---let's rumble!" he yelled, pulling a water balloon out of the big basket he'd brought up with him. Everybody cheered, and started hurling the water balloons they'd brought up with them at whoever was in sight. In seconds, the circle formation had dissolved into a swirling dogfight.

Ducking a water balloon hurled at him by a grinning Cho Chang, Nick ducked and dived through the melee, firing off water balloons at anybody he caught a glimpse of. They had put Boomerang Charms on the water balloons, so that if they missed a target they'd whirl around and head back the way they had come. It added interest to the contest, and prevented whinging from whoever got caught below their regular "Quidditch exercises."

Melinda Yang managed to stay on Cho Chang's tail for nearly twenty seconds, pasting the back of the hapless Seeker's head with three well-aimed balloons, before Cho did an outside-loop, flying below Melinda and getting on her tail in her turn, to try to return the favor. Melinda yanked her broom back and climbed, only to find herself right at the point where two flying water balloons had been going to collide; she caught one on the left side of her face and the other on the right side of her face. She shrieked in surprise, saw Cho grinning nastily at her from below, and stooped on her like a hawk, yanking out a water balloon and preparing to paste Cho right in the mouth.

* * * * * * * * * *

From their vantage-point on the ground, Madam Hooch and Professor Flitwick watched the water balloon fight. Even from several hundred feet below, they could hear happy squeals and shouts of laughter. Watching a particularly spectacular stunt, Madam Hooch shook her head, slightly ruefully.

"To think of all the Quidditch talent that's going to waste," she muttered, giving Professor Flitwick a mock glare, "just because its owners think that 'Quidditch is for Gryffindors!'"

Professor Flitwick shook his head, gasping in unison with Madam Hooch as one girl whose glasses had been knocked off her face executed a dive-below-and-recover that would have had Wronski jealous, before heading back into the melee. "They're happy. Besides---you taught a lot of them everything they know about flying, and if some of them would rather not play Quidditch, that's their choice!"

"No wonder Ravenclaw's a tough opponent to beat," observed Madam Hooch, smiling at the thought that she had shaped such flyers. "I wish you hadn't made me promise not to tell the other teams about this little exercise they go through."

"Hey---my Ravenclaws came up with this on their own! Let the others figure it out on their own! They say that after a few of these set-tos, you don't so much think about flying as just fly---the broom becomes like an extension of your own body and mind!"

Madam Hooch grinned suddenly. "I'd love to see the teachers trying something like that sometime! Can you imagine what Severus Snape would look like, in a bathing suit, soaked to the skin?"

Professor Flitwick nodded. "All too clearly. However, most of our colleagues are nothing like the flyers they'd need to be. What happened when you tried it?"

"Oh, they let me play---but everybody else up there had the same idea: 'Soak The Teacher!'" laughed Madam Hooch. "I think I'm the only person ever to be in danger of drowning several hundred feet in the air!" She turned to walk back to the castle, and little Professor Flitwick hurried to keep up with her. "It's a pity we'll never see Severus up there---but I always did think he was a wet blanket!"

* * * * * * * * * * *

Dripping wet, gasping with laughter, Nick pulled his broom to a halt at Marius' signal. Like the others, he still had a few water balloons left, but a glance at his watch told him that it was getting on to time for dinner.

Marius, soaked to the skin and with a grin on his face that would have lit up a darkened room, yelled: "Who's the best!"

"Ravenclaw! Ravenclaw!"

"Ravenclaw!" With that, he led the whole troupe in a series of stunts; first a barrel roll, then a mass loop-the-loop, then a few other formation tricks, before pointing them back to Hogwarts Castle. They flew over Hogsmeade, following the trail the students used to get to Hogwarts. All of a sudden, as they came over a rise, they saw two very familiar redheaded figures below them.

* * * * * * * * *

Marlie Lovegood was very contented with the world, at the moment. She was wearing new robes, and looking very pretty in her own unbiassed opinion. She had been able to not only manipulate Fred and George Weasley into escorting her to Hogsmeade, but into paying for the whole day out. She figured the Gryffindor girls were going to be green with envy at that. They were walking back when...

"Fred and George Weasley!" came a yell from above.. "Now you'll pay for hexing our History of Magic essays!" She looked up, and shrieked to see several dozen bathing-suit-clad figures on broomsticks, diving down on her and her companions, flinging water balloons and soaring away. Fred and George were all but knocked down by the hail of water balloons that rained down on them. Dozens of balloons hit her, as well as Fred and George; she'd been walking between them, arm-in-arm and not expecting attack, and she hadn't had time to duck out of the way.

When the last broom-flyer had disappeared toward Hogwarts, doing a victory roll and yelling "So long, losers!" she picked herself up, looked at her robes, and screamed in rage.

"Who were those?" She gave Fred and George, who were hysterical with laughter and even wetter than she was, a gimlet-eyed stare that would've scared a basilisk. On those two, it did no good; they just laughed even harder. "Who were those people? Do you know?"

"Oh, those were the Ravenclaws, I think. They got annoyed with us when we---improved---some of their essays in History of Magic. This is their idea of getting back at us." Fred finally calmed down enough to explain.

"Oh. I see. I'll have to have a...talk...with them about this little lot," Marlie snarled as she stalked back to Hogwarts, her feet making squishy sounds with every step she took. Behind her, she heard those two pitiful self-panickers laughing even harder.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Nick was drying himself off up on the battlements of Hogwarts with a big fluffy towel when he saw Marlie Lovegood storming up to join him and his house-mates. His eyebrows went up at the sight of her---she was as soaked as any of them were, and, unlike them, she was wearing what looked to have been fancy dress robes. "Want to borrow my towel? I'm done with it!" he asked.

She gave him a look that would have bored holes in granite. "No! What do you mean, dive-bombing me with water balloons?" At their studiously innocent looks, she went on: "I was walking back from a lovely day with Fred---and George, so get your collective minds out of the gutter---Weasley, when all of a sudden I got caught in a water balloon barrage. They told me it was you."

"Really? Did they tell you why we might be doing such a thing?" asked Melinda Yang. She had wrapped herself up in a fluffy warm robe (having refused offers from Nick to keep her warm) and she pushed her way through the crowd, facing Marlie without a trace of fear.

"They said they'd hexed your essays for History of Magic somehow," admitted Marlie. Melinda nodded.

"That's right, darling. We were aiming for them, and if you got in the way---well, when a girl has bad taste in men, that sort of thing can happen!" She suddenly gave Marlie a very cold stare. "Do you realize how embarrassed I was when Professor Binns asked me about where and why I had apparently memorised Fanny Hill?" She went on to explain: "Our essays had been hexed so that after the first paragraph or so, they were long explicit excerpts from nineteenth-century erotic novels!"

Marlie giggled involuntarily, her giggle subsiding under the Ravenclaws' stares. She knew, just like the rest of the school, that you meddled with the Ravenclaws' schoolwork at your peril. She had to admit that they had a valid complaint against Fred and George---even though what they'd done was bloody funny! She tried to keep a straight face, failed, and guffawed: "I imagine that if Professor Binns wasn't already dead, the shock would have killed him! I've got to try that sometime!" She grinned evilly. "Draco Malfoy, you'd better watch your step!"

She turned to go, then turned back. "Oh---this isn't over, you lot. Not for a second it isn't."

Cho Chang smiled sweetly. "I always knew you weren't much of a Seeker, darling, even before they canned you---now everybody knows you're a drip!" She had stepped up behind Melinda when Melinda had confronted Marlie; the two girls loathed each other heartily, but if Ravenclaw House was attacked, they stood united against the attackers. At this, Marlie screamed something wordless, turned, and stomped off down the stairs, still dripping---just in time to run into Mr. Filch, who started yelling at her for dripping all over the nice clean castle. At this, the Ravenclaws lost it altogether, and had to delay going down themselves until their laughter subsided. Even at dinner, all it took was some passing mention of water, and the whole Ravenclaw table roared with glee, heedless of the dirty looks coming from the Slytherin table.

* * * * * * * * * * *

The retaliations started small: little things like a Ravenclaw getting up and trying to walk, only to find his or her shoelaces had somehow been tied together. Sabotage in Potions classes, counter-charms in Charms, and carefully-timed distractions in Transfiguration all combined to lower Ravenclaw grades and lose Ravenclaw points. At first, the Weasleys were the prime suspects, but things happened even when they were nowhere nearby.

When one added in things like the Ravenclaws' traditional drink before a real Quidditch practice being spiked with a very strong laxative, forcing the players to cancel out and run for the lavatories, it all added up to one thing, and Nick Cleveland put it all together for his house-mates one evening, after the door was closed and there were no outsiders present.

"Face it, people, we've got Slytherin House waging a vendetta against us. They're keeping it on the level of practical joking, probably because they don't want to escalate things, but they're out to get us back." He rubbed his shoulder unhappily; someone had cast a Tarantallegra on him, forcing him to dance helplessly until the charm was counter-acted, and he had lost his balance and fallen down a few stairs. While Madam Pomfrey had fixed him up quickly, it still hurt.

"You mean they took our little shower-bath seriously?" asked Pat Chisholm incredulously. She had just gotten off a detention she had picked up for turning in a Transfiguration essay that turned out to have, somehow, unaccountably been written in Old Church Slavonic. Her pleas that she didn't even know Old Church Slavonic had not gone over well.

"That's what I'm saying. A lot of these---incidents---have happened at times when the Weasleys couldn't have been anywhere nearby; they were in classes or otherwise occupied. Besides, some of this stuff could have hurt us, and I don't think that's their usual style. They're pranksters, but there's no malice in them, unless they're provoked with someone."

"As far as I know, and I have good connections in Gryffindor House, the Weasleys basically accepted their impromptu bath as fair retaliation." put in Cho Chang thoughtfully. "Remember? They didn't come storming up to yell at us."

"But Marlie Lovegood did." Melinda Yang grinned. "She was mad as a wet hen!" Suddenly, Melinda snickered. "She looked like one, too!"

"Okay. We know that Marlie Lovegood's angry with us. From her point of view---heck, from mine---she has some good reasons to be." Nick began ticking off points on his fingers. "She's got those three mates of hers who could help out, and between them, her little crowd has friends and allies all through the Serpents' Den. I think we've hit on the source of our bad luck, people."

"Fine. So what do we do?" asked Melinda. Nick shrugged his shoulders.

"I'd probably best be the one to try to make contact, to patch things up. The Slyths all know me, and we've always gotten along." He fixed Cho Chang with a cold stare. "Calling her a drip was probably what did it. She's still angry about being dropped from their Quidditch team, and making that crack was like pouring oil on troubled flames." Cho had the grace to look slightly shamefaced; Nick knew that she knew how much Marlie had loved Quidditch.

* * * * * * * * * *

When Marlie came to the place Nick's message had specified---the rearmost table at the Three Broomsticks---she wasn't alone. Luella Martin, Deanna Tyler and Rianne Stormosi were with her, all of them curious about why a guy a year ahead of them in school had sent her a note, asking her to meet him there. There was a big special on at Honeyduke's, so they had the place more or less to themselves.

Deanna came into the room first, her dark eyes sweeping it for signs of a trick. Only when she signalled that it was safe did her three mates come in; Luella looking around curiously, Rianne almost too nonchalant, and finally Marlie, Making An Entrance as though she were the Queen of Hogwarts.

From his table in its dark corner, Nick applauded, slowly and sardonically. "Very impressive. Now, can you cut out the histrionics and sit down and talk with me?" Slightly deflated, the girls pulled up chairs and sat down.

Nick got right to the point; he had never been much for beating around the bush, although he had had to learn how before he got to Hogwarts. "Okay, girls, I've been sent by my housemates to tell you that the pranks have gone far enough. We want them stopped. Sort of...now-ish."

The four Slytherins' expressions all went blank at once, and they gave Nick four identical stony stares. They tried saying nothing, but Nick had learned that trick many years ago, and he just gave them back stare for stare. Having been in staredown contests with Indians of several different tribes before, he was as able to hide his thoughts behind a poker-face as any Slytherin.

Rianne Stormosi finally broke the log-jam. "Well---we're not saying that we're behind all your recent bad luck. However, we can postulate---purely as idle speculation---that we may have had a little to do with some of it. What do you think would have set us off?"

Nick raised an eyebrow. "That little...impromptu shower-bath...we gave Marlie, here, a while ago." The four Slytherins nodded as one. "I thought that was it! For the record, although I will admit that I was part of that group, the water balloon I threw hit either Fred or George Weasley right in the small of the back. We didn't even see Marlie until it was too late to stop."

Deanna struggled to press her smile out straight. "After what they did to your History of Magic essays, I don't blame you for wanting to get them back!" She shook her head. "Dive-bombing them with water balloons lacks a certain subtlety, but then, you're not Slytherins."

Nick shrugged and quirked a grin. "Hey---subtle is as subtle does. When dealing with the subtle, subtlety is useful. Dealing with either of those two---or Gryffindors in general, if you want my opinion---you have two options."

"What are those two options?" asked Luella. Her three comrades also looked curious.

Nick smiled broadly. "With Gryffindors, the two options are as follows. One---hit them with a brick, so to speak."

"And the second option?" asked Rianne. She had the expression of one who is waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Option two, Rianne, is to hit them with a big brick." At this, the four Slytherin girls laughed and laughed.

"Nick---I hate to tell you this, but that isn't Gryffindors you've described. That's guys in general!" Marlie snickered.

"Hey---subtlety is a tool. So is a hammer. But if you only have one tool, you're limited in your options. To a hammer, all problems look like nails; to a Slytherin, all problems look like they'd be solved by subtlety. There's a time and a place for subtlety---and a time and a place for water balloon dive-bombings."

"Yeah, but I had nothing to do with that prank the Weasleys played on you!" snapped Marlie, serious again. "You want us to stop harassing you?"

Nick gave her a cold, cold stare. "In one word---yes. We're getting irritated, and some of us had nothing to do with the whole incident. However, I'm willing to admit that you have a valid complaint."

"What do you want to do?" asked Deanna, her black eyes narrowed.

Nick smiled. "How about a peace offering?"

"A bribe?" said Deanna, all fake indignation. "Do you think you can bribe us?"

"In a word, yes. Now, I happen to know that you like that cinnamon-flavored butterbeer I brew. And, I've never yet met a girl who didn't like chocolate. So I'm willing to give you some cinnamon butterbeer and some dark Belgian chocolate, in bar form. Is that enough to get you to call this off?"

The girls looked tempted; the mention of chocolate and Nick's cinnamon butterbeer had mesmerised them. Shaking her head slightly, Deanna turned to Marlie. "It's your call, Marlie. Is that enough?"

"How much?" asked Marlie, leaning forward, her eyes intent on Nick.

"How about a case of cinnamon butterbeer, and five ingots of best Dutch chocolates. I've a good source in Glasgow for the chockies, and I've just finished a brewing. I can have it in your common room, say, tomorrow evening---however, before I hand it over, I want a written undertaking binding all of you, on the Great Serpent, to cease all hostilities against any Ravenclaw instigated by the Water-Balloon Incident."

Deanna considered. "That sounds eminently fair." Luella and Rianne nodded, practically salivating at the thought of the chocolate. Finally, Deanna said: "Do you accept, Marlie?"

Marlie smiled. "Yes. You know where our common-room is, I think. Deliver it there."

"Done." And with that, they got up to leave.

When they were gone, Nick ordered himself a pot of tea, and permitted himself a long, luxurious smile. It had worked just as he had expected.

* * * * * * * *

On the appointed evening, there came a knocking at the door of the Slytherin common-room. Since the door wasn't marked, this was far from usual. However, Marlie had known what was coming, and went over to open it.

Outside stood Nick Cleveland, with a cardboard case and several ingot-shaped boxes. "May I come in? I've a delivery for Marlie Lovegood." Marlie squealed and opened the door wide, letting Nick in.

Nick gazed around curiously; Marlie's expertise at retro-fitting Muggle technology for the magic-heavy Hogwarts environment had filled the Slytherin common-room with things no other House's common-room had: lava lamps, electric lights, and a stereo playing the latest Incubus Succubus hits were unique to the Slytherin common-room, as were beanbag chairs. He raised a sardonic eyebrow.

"Do you like it?" asked Marlie. She could hardly take her eyes off the things he had hauled on in. The rest of her housemates were crowded around, watching curiously; it was almost unheard of at Hogwarts for a student to enter a common-room of a House not his or her own.

Nick shrugged. "Not enough bookshelves. Our common-room looks like the library." He held out a piece of paper. "Before I leave this stuff off with you, you have to sign this. Also, I want someone who can speak for Slytherin House to put his or her signature here. We're very tired of this feud, and we want it stopped."

After Marlie signed it, one of the Slytherin prefects, Arthur Corkran, came over and added his signature. "We swear on the Great Serpent to not continue this feud against Ravenclaw House, in return for the payment accompanying this paper." Nick checked the paper to make sure that they had signed their real names, nodded, and pulled out his wand to cast a charm on the boxes.

"What was that for?" asked somebody.

Nick smiled as he went to leave. "If you had jumped me and taken the stuff, you'd have had a nasty surprise---it would have turned bad the second it left my possession, without that charm." Marlie paid him no mind; she was too busy opening the boxes. As promised, there were five big ingots of dark chocolate, and a whole case of butterbeer. She held up a bottle.

"Oh, look! They meant it just for me! See this label? It says 'For the Fairest!'" Heedless of her usual dignity, she kissed a rather surprised Nick. "You're so sweet, comparing me to Snow White!" Nick gave her an unreadable look, before turning to go.

Once he was gone, Marlie left off gloating over her bribe to look up. She had never been the focus of such concentrated attention from her housemates---and she'd never seen such predatory expressions on their faces in her life. "Now wait! This stuff's for me!" she squealed, just as the first swift hand reached out and grabbed for the chocolate. "Stop that! Deanna, help!" But Deanna had snagged a bottle of butterbeer and was uncapping it, admiring the golden-apple motif on the label. With that, the feeding frenzy was on in earnest.

* * * * * * * * *

Outside, Nick Cleveland put his ear to where he knew the door was. He finally was able to let loose with the laugh he had been trying to hold in for two days. Inside the Slytherin common-room, it sounded like everybody was fighting over who would get a share.

"Too bad for you that you don't read Greek mythology, Marlie," he snickered to himself, getting himself out of the vicinity before Professor Snape appeared to investigate. "As for you being 'Snow White,' I reckon you may have been, once. Back in first year---maybe." Chuckling to himself, he made himself very scarce.

* * * * * * * * *

The next morning, Nick was tucking into a plate of scrambled eggs with diced ham in the Great Hall when he noticed Marlie Lovegood coming in. The Slytherin looked as though she'd been through the wars---she was disheveled, and showing the beginnings of a black eye. Her three mates looked very little better, and, now that he took notice, most of the Slytherins were looking the worse for wear.

"Morning, girls! How did you like the chocolate and butterbeer?" At his friendly greeting, Marlie came over, her three friends behind her and looking like Professor McGonagall confronted with the Weasleys' latest pranks. Nick smiled innocently as the girls stalked up to him.

"You! You---you---you Machiavelli!" Marlie all but hissed her words, her eyes narrowed with rage. "You single-handedly set off the biggest fight Slytherin House's seen for years! Professor Snape's furious with us!"

"About half of us are on detention, and the common-room's almost in ruins!" snarled Deanna. She drew her hand back as if to slap Nick, only to let it fall to her side when she saw the look that came over his face.

Nick stood up, fixing the girls with his worst stare. "Do. Not. Ever. Threaten. Me." he intoned. He suddenly grinned mirthlessly at Rianne, who turned slightly pale. "Remember what happened on Platform 9 ¾, Rianne?" Rianne gulped and nodded very hard.

Satisfied that he had established sufficient respect, Nick sat back down. "So what are you complaining about, Marlie? I came through with my side of the bargain---to the letter. If your friends thought they should have a share, is that my fault?" He spread his hands, a look of conscious innocence on his face.

"You intended that to happen!" snapped Marlie, rubbing her face where she'd been the recipient of a really good roundhouse slap the night before. "You could have delivered it to me quietly, where the rest of Slytherin House wouldn't see just what I had!"

"Are you saying you didn't want to share with your loving housemates?" purred Nick. He made as if to raise his voice. "Oh, Slytherins..." only to subside when Marlie frantically shushed him. "What, you don't want them to know you didn't intend to share with them?" Marlie shook her head frantically.

Nick smiled at the four girls triumphantly. "I gave you fair warning, all of you. Any Ravenclaw would have known that it was a trap the second they saw the labels." At their puzzled looks, he elaborated: "It was a golden apple inscribed with 'For the Fairest' that was the proximate cause of the Trojan War, in Greek mythology."

"And I thought 'For the Fairest' had something to do with Snow White," mused Marlie. Melinda Yang, across the table, looked up with a malicious smile.

"Darling, anybody putting the concepts 'Marlie Lovegood' and 'Snow White' in the same sentence belongs in Hufflepuff House, not in Ravenclaw." At Marlie's horrified gasp, she went on: "They may have had something in common once---ages ago, when dinosaurs roamed the earth. However, if I were coming up with equivalents of 'Snow White,' your name would be about the last thing that would come to mind."

At this insult, Marlie shrieked wordlessly and made as if to throw herself at Melinda, only to be restrained by Nick. "Melinda, keep out of this," snapped Nick, before turning back to Marlie. "Please forgive her---she doesn't like anybody much before about ten in the morning." To Melinda, he snarled: "I'll deal with you later!" Disregarding the tongue Melinda stuck out at his back, he turned back to the Slytherins.

"You got your bribe. I didn't say Word One about helping you keep it away from your housemates. I didn't really appreciate some of those pranks you played on us---my shoulder hurt for days after I fell down those stairs." The girls looked surprised; they hadn't heard about his little bout with the Tarentallegra curse. "In any case, you should have remembered. Slytherins think we Ravenclaws are a bunch of geeks, right?"

"Well---there are those with that opinion," ventured Deanna, giving Marlie a Look.

"It's a pity you don't read more. If you'd read the Aeneid, you would have been warned." Nick grinned, preparing to sink his barb. "In future, you'll know to 'beware of geeks bearing gifts.' Especially geeks who also bear grudges!" With that, he turned back to his breakfast.

The four girls sat down at the Slytherin table, feeling distinctly gobsmacked. After a few minutes' concentrated eating, Rianne finally broke the silence. "He told me once that he'd almost been Sorted into Slytherin."

"One of my friends who was at his Sorting mentioned that he got a Howler from his mum for not being Sorted into Slytherin. His mum was in Slytherin, a few years ahead of mine. Real tartar, she was---to make Mum shudder, just mention Grace Forrest." Deanna grinned. "I'd be interested to meet her, but she's not been in the UK for years---married a Canadian Dark Creature fighter and went off to North America. I pity the poor wendigos who met her, if half my mum's stories are true!"

"Guess those Slytherin qualities show up, even in a Ravenclaw." With that, the girls tucked into breakfast.

END