"Is this some sort of sick joke?" they said at the same time.

Then they glared. Pansy Parkinson's face scowled. "Oh this is rich. I should have known. 'Why Hogsmeade?' I kept asking myself. 'Why there?'"

"Look, Parkinson, if I had known it was you-"

"Spare me. So you and your poufter Potter want a baby. What do I care? Just what we need. More little Gryffindors in the world."

"Actually, it's to be my baby. That is, I'll be the natural father."

"Oh. Better. So get on with it. Obliviate me already so I can go home."

Draco looked at his wand and thumbed the smooth wood. "What in blazes are you doing here, anyway, Parkinson? You can't be doing this for the money."

"Can't I? I believe I said it all very plainly in my cv. We have fallen on hard times. This was a chance to get back on top, to save the manor house. Now I suppose we'll have to sell."

Neither of them spoke. Draco well remembered having Malfoy Manor snatched away from him. It wasn't a pretty feeling. It was only through Harry's generosity and determination that he got it back. What did Pansy have? No one. Not even a husband. That she would stoop to such drastic measures spoke volumes about her plight.

"Well…sit down or something," he told her. "Would…would you like some tea?"

"I'd kill for a firewhiskey."

"No need to AK anyone." He brought out a bottle from a shelf and poured two glasses. He raised his glass. "To Salazar Slytherin."

She raised her glass to it and knocked it back. He eyed her and poured more into her glass. He sipped at his.

Her eyes studied him. "So. You two really want a baby?"

"It's time for the line to continue."

She barked out a laugh. "That would be perfect, wouldn't it? Harry Potter, father to your baby. At school I always fancied we'd get married and sire those Malfoys together."

He smiled, remembering. They had practiced it enough. "If the Dark Lord had won, we would have." He drank the rest of his drink.

"And you would have made my life a living hell, Draco mine."

"No doubt. I would probably have reckoned my orientation eventually and that would have left you out in the cold."

"But still mother to a dynasty," and she gestured with the empty glass.

He acknowledged that with a tilt of his head. He poured more for them both.

"So. Shopping for Purebloods? The pickings must be slim."

"They are. Twelve, actually."

"Am I the twelfth?"

"First. Your application looked to be the most promising. I'd hoped not to have to talk to the other bints. But…"

She nodded and drank her firewhiskey but pushed her glass away when Draco offered more. Her eyes looked glossy. "No thanks. Well, this has been pleasant. But I have to go. Best Obliviate me and I'll be on my way."

He reached for her hand across the table and held it, stopping her from rising. "Listen, is it really that bad? Maybe you can get a job."

"Doing what? I never trained for anything. I was never good at anything. And I haven't been able to land a husband. My third cousin made an offer two months ago, but I'd rather have some stranger's baby. But in this case… Where did I put his note?" She slipped her hand from his and rose, standing a bit unsteadily. "I'm ready."

Draco stayed seated. He looked her up and down. Same pug-like face, same dark hair, same Pansy, really. A Pureblood, a Slytherin. She knew him, yet she was in a position to be carefully controlled. He liked that. He was certain he wouldn't have any trouble with her. She was desperate after all. There would be no legal troubles getting her to sign away her parental rights. And the note she included from St Mungo's said that she was in excellent health.

Harry would kill him, but he had left the decision to Draco, after all.

"Pans. Why don't you sit down? We have a lot to discuss."

* * *

"You chose who!"

Harry really could be quite shrill when he wanted to be. Draco winced and kicked off his shoes before he sank into the sofa. "Harry, it's perfect. She needs us. She'll do whatever we want."

"I don't want a slave! I want a decent mother for our child."

"She's only the surrogate. The oven. We're the mothers…um…fathers."

"Yeah, but…"

"But what? Is it because she's Slytherin?"

"Yes! No! I mean…well. Yes."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"I just…" Harry sat in the old Slytherin wingchair and looked at Draco. "I want to do this right, not just for some charity case."

"Pardon? I was going to marry her, you know!"

"I know, but-"

"You're prejudiced, that's what you are."

"I am not! It's just that I haven't had that good a record from people from Slytherin. First there was Snape-"

"Who turned out to be a hero!"

"And Pansy was really nasty to me and Hermione at school-"

"And she's a different woman now."

"And you, of course-"

"Your beloved husband!"

"And Voldemort!"

Draco fell silent. "Well, if you're going to bring out the big guns…"

"Draco, I just don't know."

"You put me in charge."

"But we both have to agree."

Draco threw himself against the sofa back and pouted. Stupid Gryffindor. If this is how it was going to be then he could just forget it.

Harry stared at his lap. He didn't say anything for a long time. No one said anything. The fire spoke for them, crackling and snapping and casting shadows and gold into the room. Finally, Harry sighed and spoke very quietly. "I guess you're right. I am a bit prejudiced. That isn't fair. And I did tell you to choose whom you liked. I'm sorry. Go ahead. Pansy's okay by me. She came to the wedding after all and she helped you get some wedding guests. I suppose she's all right."

Draco unwound his taut muscles. "That's big of you to admit that you're wrong, Harry. I'd appreciate a little more confidence in me in the future."

Harry rose and sauntered toward Draco. He felt his heart race suddenly and his skin tingle. Harry always did that to him. But especially when he had that expression on his face. He knelt on the floor beside Draco. "I'm really sorry if I hurt your feelings," he whispered.

Draco shrugged. His throat was too dry to speak, anyway.

Harry's fingers reached out and touched Draco's thigh. "Really sorry, love."

"Well…you can make it up to me."

The fingers moved higher. "How?"

"You're getting warmer," said Draco.

Harry's face broke into a smile. Oh there was nothing like Harry Potter's smiles!

* * *

Pansy sat in the lounge of their suite at Hogwarts the following day and Harry sat opposite her. They had been sitting in silence for quite a while. "Draco should be here any minute," said Harry for the second time. When he realized this, he turned away from her. Merlin, but this was embarrassing. He had no idea what to say to her. They were certainly never friendly at school. If fact, he didn't much like her. And here he was married to her former boyfriend whom she fully expected to marry. It's a funny world, all right, he mused. How was he to start a conversation? Say, Pansy, so things are so tough at home that you need to sell your body? How's that working out for you? He shook his head mentally. This will never do. Where the hell was Draco?

The painting covering the entrance slid aside and Draco strode in, stopping when he noticed Pansy. Harry stood and greeted him with a quick kiss. "We've been waiting forever," he said between clenched teeth.

"Sorry. Detention."

"I didn't know they still put you in detention, Draco mine" she said, glancing over at the Slytherin.

He smirked. "Not me, dear. I'm the one giving it." He sat beside Harry on the sofa and they both looked at Pansy. She shifted a little. "So!" Draco looked from one to the other. "Isn't this a cozy little family!"

"I'm here to sign papers," sighed Pansy. "And I'd like to get it over with. Being at Hogwarts again gives me the creeps."

Draco rose and went to the desk. "You understand what's expected, right? You agree to be inseminated by me and keep yourself in good health until you deliver. And delivery of a child, live or dead, you still get your substantial funds for your services."

"Crikey, Draco," Harry muttered.

Draco sneered at him. "There's no need to add unnecessary sentimentality to all of it. Pansy knows she's here to do a job and when that job is done, she's out. Right, dear?"

Pansy waved her hand disinterestedly, looking for a quill in her purse. "Absolutely, Draco mine."

"This paper also states that you give up all parental rights including visitation-"

"But if she wants to, she can come any time," said Harry quickly.

Her bored glance dropped onto Harry. "I have no interest whatsoever in becoming darling Mummy. So don't worry your pretty little head over it, Potter."

"All right. I'm just trying to-"

"Make this more difficult?" said Draco out of the side of his mouth.

Harry folded his arms and sat back, lips pressed tightly together.

Draco straightened the parchment again. "It also states that we will pay for any and all medical expenses incurred and that we will pay for all of your upkeep until the time of birth."

Pansy nodded her head. "Sounds good. When's the first payment?"

"The day we go to St Mungo's for the insemination."

"And when's that?" asked Harry, unable to keep silent.

"When I ovulate," said Pansy, leaning over the desk and looking over the parchment.

Harry shivered. Eww. Did he really need to know that?

"Well Harry, how do you think my swimmers are going to take hold if she isn't making eggs at the time? It's all very basic. Didn't you ever learn about the birds and the bees?"

"Yes!" he said indignantly. "I just don't need a refresher from the lot of you." He watched her sign the paper. "So…when is that, then?"

She finished signing with a flourish and looked up at Harry. "One week."

"One week?"

She put her quill away and straightened her cloak. "Well, it's not like you have much to prepare for." She smiled at Draco. "Just a wizard's wanking mag and some lube. See you in a week, boys." She disappeared into the study and Harry heard the hearth whoosh as she flooed away. He glared at Draco.

"The mother of your child."

Draco shrugged. "Someone has to do it."

"I hope it looks more like you than her."

His husband smiled and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Don't worry. The Malfoys always have beautiful children. Besides." Turning, he enclosed Harry in an embrace. "You'd love them no matter what they look like because you are such a Gryffindork."

"Hey!"

He kissed Harry to soften the insult and Harry kissed him back. "It's true, though," Harry admitted after their lips separated. "I'd love any child of yours."

"You are so sweet. But we need to discuss one more thing."

"What?"

"What will the child's surname be?"

"Oh. Well…I've been thinking. Since the Malfoy line is so important to you, I have no objections to 'Malfoy'."

"No odd hyphenations?"

He shook his head. "None of that stuff's important to me. Just you. And the fact that you're moving your schedule forward because I went ga-ga over little Annie…"

Draco hugged him tighter. "Oh, it's no great sacrifice. You can be very persuasive."

Harry smiled and kissed him, his smile imprinting on Draco's lips. "I can be, yes."

Harry spent a good deal of the night persuading Draco of many things. Mostly that he loved him.

* * *

Draco had been in contact with St Mungo's and today was the day. They dressed, readying to floo to the wizard hospital. "Aren't you nervous, Draco? I am."

"What? I've wanked thousands of times."

"Not that. Making a baby!"

"Oh. Funny, when one spends so much effort to avoid that in school."

"I never had that problem," muttered Harry.

"Of course not, you ponce. What were you ever going to impregnate? Your hand?"

"Ha, ha. But seriously. This is the moment that will change our lives. Makes you really wonder if you're ready for it."

"Now he tells me." He took Harry's hand and pulled him down beside him on the sofa. "This is what you wanted, right?"

"Absolutely."

"No regrets, right?"

"Of course not!"

"Say so now or forever hold your piece," and he grabbed for Harry's crotch.

"Draco, stop it! This is an important moment."

"Why do you do this? You make a simple biological act into splitting the atom. It's all very natural."

"Sure. Two gay men making a baby."

"Two gay wizards. That's the difference."

"Too bad one of us couldn't-"

"Even Wizarding kind can't do that yet, Harry. And I certainly wouldn't want to mar my perfect physique."

"Well…I would."

He looked at Harry askance. Sometimes Harry surprised the hell out of him. "Seriously? You really would?"

"Yes. I saw how Hermione glowed during her pregnancy. I felt the baby move when she let me touch her belly. I think it would be neat."

"Oh yes. The morning sickness is quite romantic and all those stretch marks are probably really sexy now."

He swatted at Draco's face. "I just don't think it's fair."

"Come on, Harry. Being Hero of the Wizarding world isn't enough for you? You want to be Mother to it as well? Good God. And I thought I had an enormous ego."

"You do." It was Draco's turn to swat Harry. "Look, Draco, we'd better go. Pansy might be waiting for us."

They finished dressing and headed for Harry's fireplace in his study. They flooed to St. Mungo's and stood at the reception desk.

"We're here to see Healer Jordan," said Draco to the reception witch.

"Second floor, room two hundred." She eyed them curiously, obviously knowing full well what department that was…and knowing full well who they were.

Draco walked forward toward the lift and tried for the billionth time to ignore the stares and whispers of the people as they passed. Draco opened the gate for him and let him walk through before he shut it and pressed the button. The lift rose and a soft female voice intoned, "Obstetrics including maternity wards and fertility."

The lift stopped and Draco opened the gate again. They walked down the corridor, found the room, and ducked inside.

Draco looked around. Another reception desk with another witch and a black door without numbers or legend.

"We're here for Healer Jordan."

The witch nodded and sent a small Patronus with her wand. "Please take a seat, gentlemen." They sat on an uncomfortable wooden bench and stared at their shoes. Harry looked up once at Draco and smiled at him, pressing his hand before he returned to contemplating his feet. Nothing in the décor or lack of it indicated what this office was for, but it made Draco slightly uncomfortable nonetheless. He glanced surreptitiously at Harry. There were really only two reasons for doing this. One, of course, was to make certain the Pureblood line continued. He knew it was hard for Harry to understand after the war, but it had been so ingrained into Draco's head that it was simply part of who he was. And with his parents dead, it was a way to make certain they were not forgotten.

But the other reason he had acquiesced far ahead of schedule was because Harry seemed to want it so much. Harry was a very gentle and sweet individual. He knew he would make a great father. Draco, on the other hand, wasn't certain of his parenting skills, despite his performance with little Annie Weasley. He didn't know really how to be a father. He didn't want to repeat the mistakes of Lucius Malfoy, but he somehow knew that some of that would be an inevitability. Harry seemed so much more adept at recognizing the feelings of others. He was good at sensing Draco's moods, at any rate. He guessed it was time-as good a time as any-to start their family.

He could see Harry smiling, thinking about their soon-to-be future. Not one complaint. Not one word of opposition to all Draco's decisions. And they had all been Draco's decisions. What was wrong with Harry, anyway? He wanted to be a father but he'd rather be foster father to Draco's offspring than have his own. Suddenly it seemed terribly unfair and Draco started to squirm, wondering if they were doing the right thing after all.

The door opened and a witch with a long scarlet robe and black-rimmed eyeglasses stepped into the doorway. "Gentlemen, please come with me."

They followed her through the door and then to another inner office lined with shelves containing books and various odd objects.

"Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy," she said and gestured to two chairs, considerably more comfortable-looking than the bench in the reception area. "Sit, please. Miss Parkinson is already in one of our private rooms. I've explained the procedure and all we need do is obtain a sample from you, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco frowned and looked at Harry. "Yeah, about that. Look, I think I've changed my mind."

Harry whipped his head toward him. "What!"

He took Harry's hand, trying to control the dark-haired man's outburst by his touch. "Harry. Like you said before, this is an important decision. A life-altering one. I don't think we should go into this lightly."

"We haven't been. I haven't been."

He could see the disappointment in Harry's eyes and quickly said, "I don't think it fair that you be the father to my child."

"But, Draco, I want to!"

"I know you do. And I love you so much for it. But I think that the only fair thing to do is if we both gave…samples…and let the healer decide which one to inseminate Pansy with."

Harry stared perplexed. "What?"

Draco sighed. "I think it should be anonymous. That way, we may never know whose child it is. But it will truly be our child."

Harry's lips parted but no sound came out. His eyes misted behind his round spectacles. "Really?"

"Yeah. And besides," he said, clearing his throat and straightening. "That way, we can watch each other wank."

The healer coughed lightly and they suddenly remembered she was there. "Well then," she said, folding her hands together on her desk. "Am I to understand that we are now to obtain two samples?"

"Yes. You heard us plainly. Two." He still held tight to Harry's hand.

"Very well." She rose and retrieved two glass beakers from her shelf and handed one to each.

Harry stared at it. "Er…"

"There is a room for both of us, I presume?" said Draco.

"This way." She led them through another door, down a dimly lit corridor, and to another room which she opened with her wand. "I suppose…under the circumstances…you can share the room." She blushed only slightly when she said it and shut the door behind her, leaving them within.

Harry and Draco, clutching their beakers, stared at one another…before they burst into laughter. Harry snickered and looked around. "Well, here we are. Isn't this romantic?"

The clinical nature of the room certainly didn't inspire Draco to anything romantic or the least bit sexual. "The least they can do is have pictures of naked wizards on the wall."

"I think rather they are more likely to have pictures of naked witches."

"That would put us off, now wouldn't it?"

"I guess all we have is each other. If you're sure."

"I am, Harry."

"But what about 'the Malfoy line'?"

"Bugger it."

"I do, thank you."

"No, you git. I mean…well. It hasn't fared so well in the press these last few years so maybe there isn't that much to recommend it."

"Oh, I don't know." He gazed at Draco under drowsy lids while fingering the beaker. "They do produce beautiful children…so I hear."

"You can't argue with success." Draco looked at his own beaker. "Well, shall we get to it?"

Harry shrugged and undid the button on his trousers, pulled down the zip, and pulled out his cock. Neither of them were hard. They looked at each other when Draco got an idea. "I think we're going about this the wrong way."

"I know perfectly well how to wank, Draco."

"Did you take the opposite of a brain elixir today? I meant we should wank each other."

The mere suggestion had the affect of stiffening Harry's cock, which in turn did the same for Draco's. Draco smiled and moved closer, grasping Harry's member. "I think this will be my very favorite trip to St Mungo's yet," he purred.

"Mine, too," said Harry unsteadily.

They stroked each other slowly, keeping up a mirror pace. Each long stroke and twist that Draco made was echoed by Harry. They drew together for a kiss and rubbed their hardened pricks against the other's, grinding their hips and moaning into each other's mouths. Their stroking became more vigourous, pulling and squeezing until Harry bucked his pelvis toward Draco and whispered his name.

"Harry, you are so hot."

"Oh Draco. I'm getting close."

"So am I. Get your beaker ready."

The intense sensations of Harry's hand on Draco's cock blasted up from his balls and they shoved their pricks into their beakers at almost the same time, shooting hot cum against the glass sides. Draco jabbed his hips, feeling those last swells of pleasure before he lowered his beaker. "Damn, Harry. That wasn't half bad."

Harry panted. "No, indeed." He stuffed his flaccid prick back into his trousers and raised the beaker. "Here's something that the Wizarding world might pay handsomely for: Harry Potter's spunk."

Draco scowled. "Well, if you ever find yourself down on your luck, you know you have an endless supply."

"Liquid gold?"

"That's crude oil, Potter."

He swirled the sticky stuff in his beaker and smiled wickedly. "No it isn't."

They kissed, put themselves together, and called for Healer Jordan. She took the beakers and winked at them. "Well done, gentlemen. And fast, too. I will get these to my technician posthaste."

She departed before Draco could ask how long it would take. He and Harry returned to the waiting area but now time seemed to drag. Finally, after an hour, the healer returned. "Well gentlemen, my technician tells me all is well and we have only to wait to see if Miss Parkinson conceives."

"Wait?" said Harry. "You mean it may not take?"

"Not always. The procedure may have to be repeated."

Harry looked at Draco with the merest of blushes to his cheeks. "Not a problem," said Draco.

* * *

Two weeks later Harry received an owl from St Mungos at breakfast requesting that he and Draco return for the results. He showed the letter to Draco and they both hunched over the parchment. Dumbledore leaned toward them. "Bad news, gentlemen?"

Harry's head snapped up. "What? Oh, no. Well, I don't know. Professor, would it be possible for me and Draco to leave Hogwarts early today?"

Dumbledore raised a brow and flicked a gaze at the seal on the parchment. "I think Professor McGonagall can take over your class for the last period, Harry. If it is all right with Minerva."

"What's all right with Minerva?" She turned her head toward them, her witch's hat wobbling precariously.

"Can you take my class at the end of the day, please?" he asked. He lifted the parchment but tried to hide as much of it as he could. "We…Draco and I have to…to be somewhere."

"Oh, yes, very well. If it is important."

"It might very well be," he sighed.

* * *

They sat in the waiting room again and Harry was wondering why everything seemed to take so long. "What do you suppose is keeping them?"

Draco shook his head. He had been remarkably quiet all day. Harry reached over and touched his shoulder. "Hey. You're not regretting this, are you? Or regretting that it may not be you-"

"Oh, no. No. You have as much right. We're both the ends of our lines. It doesn't matter. A little Harry Potter would be just as adorable, I'm sure." He smiled up at him.

"Well, I don't know about any of that. There aren't any pictures of me as a child. Just as a baby and after my eleventh year."

"Bloody Dursleys," Draco muttered.

He clutched affectionately at Draco's neck. "So it's all right, then?"

"I told you it was. I love you, after all. I'd love anything from you."

The door opened and he and Draco stood. "Come this way," said the gangly wizard. They marched together down the dim corridor, but instead of going into the little office, they followed the healer to another little room. Pansy was there, lying on an examination table, a blanket lying across her lap.

"What are you two doing here?" she accused.

"Now Miss Parkinson," said the young healer, thick south London accent dripping off his tongue. "A good attitude makes for a good pregnancy."

"What would you know about it?"

Harry perked up. "Then…is she?"

"Indeed," said the man happily. "Mother and babies are doing just fine."

Harry looked at Pansy gratefully, turned to Draco for a kiss, and then froze. "Hang on. What…what did you say?"

The healer fiddled with his wand and tucked it into a pocket of his powder blue robes. "I said everyone's doing just fine."

Draco leaned forward. "Did you say…babies?"

"As…as in more than one?" said Harry, paling.

"Well of course!" he said, shaking his head at them with a silly expression on his face. "You gave me two samples with instructions to use them both. It was a little more trouble making her ovaries extract another egg, but with the right potions and incantations-"

"Imbecile!" yelled Pansy. "Are you telling me I have twins!"

The healer stopped straightening his papers and looked up at Harry's bleached face and Draco's wide eyes. "Er…yeah. Just like you said. Two samples. One of each."

"One of each what?" asked Harry.

"One of each father."

"Where's Healer Jordan?" Pansy wailed.

That startled the man and he jumped up and headed immediately for the door. Harry stared at the floor. One of each? Both Harry and Draco were fathers?

A ruckus down the hall brought footsteps running. Healer Jordan careered around the doorway and stared at the frozen tableau. She looked back at the young wizard. "Rodney, what did you do?"

"I…I d-did as you told me, Ma'am. I used both samples."

"No, you idiot. You were supposed to choose one. One!"

"Oh!"

She turned to the three. "I am terribly sorry about this Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, and Miss Parkinson. I…I don't know what to say."

"I never agreed to this!" screamed Pansy, trying to get off the table. "TWINS! NO way!"

"Now Miss Parkinson," said the Healer, urging her back down. "It's not the end of the world. Many, many witches-and I daresay Muggles-deliver twins all the time with no problems at all. Even triplets. And the fathers-well. They only have more to love." She tried a weak chuckle but it came out more like a cough.

Harry didn't say anything. He couldn't. No words would emerge from his mouth.

"So you see," Jordan went on. "There's nothing truly different about the situation. The only change might be that, nearer your time of delivery, we need more caution, more monitoring. The babies are healthy-tiny at the moment, but quite healthy-and I foresee no problems."

"The only problem I see," said Pansy between clenched teeth, "is two when I thought there would only be one. I want them out!"

"Oh my dear, please calm yourself. Surely you know of some twins. So you must know it isn't that bad."

Harry well knew that they all suddenly conjured Fred and George Weasley to mind.

"Out! I want these things out of me!"

Jordan sent the technician to fetch a calming potion and she gestured for Harry and Draco to wait outside.

They stood outside the door listening to Pansy wail incoherently. Draco raised his eyes to Harry. "Why does this always happen to us?"

"Now Draco," he said, breathing slowly, trying to calm himself. "It isn't that bad. It's not as if they'll come out looking like Fred and George. Or even each other. Different fathers, remember?"

"But two!"

"Well, we did wonder what the other would be like, didn't we? Now we'll know."

"And you're all right with this?"

"Not much we can do about it now, is there?"

"Potter, we are talking a litter here."

"It's just two. Two little babies. That may look like each of us. Isn't that what we wanted? It's what I wanted. And you know what? This is even better." He smiled at Draco, suddenly feeling a surge of happiness akin to the one he felt on their wedding day. "Our babies."

Draco shook his head, still plainly in shock. Harry approached him and took him by the shoulders. "Draco. Look at me. Do you love me?"

"Of course I do," he answered vaguely.

"And I love you. And I want this. We're going to be a family. A real family, Draco. I've never had that. And I want it."

Draco focused and searched Harry's misty eyes with his frosty grey ones. Yes, he could tell Draco reckoned how important this was to Harry and he saw the change in Draco's eyes. "We are a family," Draco said quietly. "You and me. And baby makes…four." He smiled weakly, but Harry drew him in for a hug.

Well, leave it to the team of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, he thought, to avoid anything the easy way.


A/N: Let me commend harry4me for getting it right. Now, no more spoilers, okay? Don't make me come out of this computer and smack you. ;-) If you've got ideas, email me. Perhaps I'm a bit predictable but after all, I'm trying to keep it logical and that's what happens when you do. Plot elements become inevitable but still enjoyable, I think. But there's lots more coming up and I bet you'll never guess half of it.


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"Dark Power"

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"Surrogate"

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