Hermione Granger

Hermione Granger & the Wrappity Wrope

by Van © 2015

Chapter 7

Dramatis Personæ

And for the use of confused muggles:  The Harry Potter Wiki  (Beware the occasional howling advert.)


Headmistress Minerva McGonagall paused as she passed through the Main Entrance Gate and entered the Hogswarts grounds.

Although it goes unseen, there is always a magical briefing whenever the Headmaster or Headmistress returns to Hogwarts.  It's not a detailed briefing.  A muggle analogy might be the appearance of a panel of indicator lights winking green, amber, or red.  In any case, Headmistress was informed that all students were present or accounted for, except for a number of third through seventh years who were probably still in Hogsmeade.  No worries, it was still hours until curfew.  Also, all faculty and staff not on sabbatical or leave were present, except for Cassie Nightingale and Sentinel Magus Tonks.  The absence of the Sentinel Magus was significant, but not particularly distressing.  Ffion was on duty, but she might have stepped into the Forbidden Forest or down to the lake shore.  Minerva was sure there was an acceptable explanation.  As for Cassie, she was probably still in Hogsmeade.  Finally, the house elves and house ghosts were all present or accounted for.

None of this was what had made Minerva pause—and smile—when she entered the school.  Hogwarts' matrix of protective spells had snapped into sharp focus during her brief absence!  This was very good news.  It meant the school was very nearly restored to its prewar condition!  Perhaps a report from the Ministry was waiting on her desk.  Anyway, this was certainly a welcome happenstance.

Minerva sighed as she hiked the path to the castle and made her way to her office.  She would have liked to have been in the school when the final restoration happened.  It had been discussed that at some point the remaining loose spell linkages and harmonic dissonances might simply fall into place or dissipate on their own, and that could very well be what had happened.  Anyway, she would have liked to have been here.  High tea with Aberforth Dumbledore at the Hog's Head Inn had been pleasant (especially the rum tarts and sherry), but she would have liked to have been in the school to experience the final restoration.

There were messages waiting on Headmistress' desk.  There were always messages waiting on Headmistress' desk.  There were letters from parents, academic correspondence, memorandums from Ministry departments—the usual—but nothing from the ministry regarding protective spells, nothing from the Board of Governors, and nothing from any of the wizards and witches on the restoration committee.

Minerva removed her coat and donned her academic robe, then settled into the desk chair.  There was more she could do to attempt to resolve the situation.  The position of Headmistress comes with certain privileges, and among them is the ability to commune with the very school itself.  Hogwarts is neither intelligent nor self-aware, but by some definitions of the word, it is alive.  As the restoration had progressed, both the physical and magical rebuilding efforts, the aura of the school had been... not quite right, as if it were running a fever... or was constipated.  Both were bodily analogies and quite crude, to be sure, but apt.  The last few weeks Minerva had come to wonder if the school needed a dose of tonic, a purgative, or some other medicinal cure from Madam Pomfry, rather than the conjurings of a committee of senior wizards and witches.

Headmistress concentrated... and the aura of the school came into focus in her mind.  Something was still not quite right.  Something very subtle.  And then—the problem came into sharp focus!  The Room of Requirement had returned!  To be more precise, the Room was realigned in its proper configuration.  This was a missing link of the restoration, and not a cause for concern, but ordinarily, not even the Headmistress could summon or open the Room at will.  Its presence and function were both independent of faculty control; however, at the moment, Minerva could sense the presence of the Room quite clearly, and this only happened when the doors of the Room were open.

Something was preventing the doors from closing, Minerva could sense it.  She could also sense the physical location, or more precisely, the exact location in the school where the Room was manifesting its entrance.

Apparation, or instantaneous transportation from one place to another, is forbidden within Hogwarts.  To be clear, it's not only against the rules, it's impossible, because the school's protective spells make it so.  There is one exception, another privilege granted the Headmistress.

Minerva rose from her chair, stepped around her desk, readied her wand, and apparated to a certain oddly shaped chamber in the Hogwarts dungeons.

Hermione Granger & the Wrappity Wrope
Chapter 7

Hermione had never been happier in her life.  Happy, contented, joyful, even blissful.  So... this is heaven, she thought with a sigh.  Whatever was physically happening, in her mind she was happy, and as her senses had seemed to fade away to nothing, all she had was her mind.  It was like living a wonderful dream.  There were no details.  Time stood still.  There wasn't a before.  There was only now, and now was wonderful.

And then, reality returned with a short fall and a disconcerting, slow-motion bounce off the stone floor.  It was most peculiar.

Hermione was hovering just above the floor, naked, with her arms, legs, and body in a tangle with other arms, legs, and bodies!  Also, her tummy and breasts were pressed against miscellaneous warm, sweat-slick body parts!  Her right hand was clutching someone's breast, and someone's open mouth was pressed against her left breast!  Most distressing of all, her face was between someone's legs, with her mouth against that person's crotch!

Rope and cord enforced the intimate embrace—if one can call such a jumble of arms, legs, and torsos an embrace.  Intricately hitched bands of rope lashed Hermione and her companions together in a complex web, and cord reinforced their predicament by binding their toes and fingers and lashing them to the ropes.  Hermione was not squeezing that breast by choice.  The ropes and cords gave her no choice!  And the lips and tongue slobbering on Hermione's nipple were lashed in place!  And rope and cord held Hermione's face against that unknown crotch and propped her mouth open in some sort of head-harness!

Suddenly, it all came back to her—Ginny's attempt to make an "Incarcerous Booster Bracelet"—her participation, along with Luna—the out of control Incarcerous thingamabob—the arrival and capture of Ffion—the arrival and capture of Professor Nightingale—all of it!

Oh.  My.  God.  Hermione had never been more mortified in her life!  She hadn't previously known it was possible to be this mortified!

She realized the ropes and cords were fading away, one strand at a time, and seemingly at random.  This was both a good and a bad thing.  The ropes had been giving the five captives some measure of support, and as they disappeared, the full and potentially dangerous influence of gravity returned.  Thankfully, a levitation spell of some sort was at play, giving them some relief and preventing their collective weight from settling upon awkwardly stretched and/or contorted limbs.  Nonetheless, as the ropes and cords released their bodies, the captives had to carefully extricate their various parts from the tangle without jabbing elbows and knees into faces, stomachs, and crotches, or otherwise causing discomfort and/or damage.

Hermione was careful and polite as she struggled to squirm free, but she seemed to be more or less in the middle of the floating pile, and the ropes and cords seemed to be releasing their holds on her slippery body last.

Perhaps not surprisingly, given their quidditch star and trained Auror status, respectively, Ginny and Ffion were the first to solidly plant their bare feet and manage some level of control of the disintegrating tangle.  Cassie, Luna, and Hermione were close behind, and soon the five naked, sweaty, frazzled witches were kneeling or sitting in a mortified huddle on the stone floor.  The exception was Cassie.  She was standing and smiling, as gorgeous as ever.

They were in the star-shaped chamber and the doors to the Room of Requirement were closing—then were closed—and then the doorway itself faded into the stonework and was gone.


The five naked witches turned to find Headmistress McGonagall standing in the open chamber door, wand in hand and her elderly face set in a grim frown.  Headmistress was not amused.

Cassie was the first to speak.  "I believe an innocent attempt to craft a complex piece of magic has gone somewhat awry."

"No, really?" Ffion drawled, frowning at the three students.

Cassie and Ffion were just as naked and sweaty as the students, but were surprisingly nonplussed, especially Cassie.  The American was only a few inches taller that the others, but her strength and charisma allowed her to dominate the room—except for Headmistress, of course.  Smiling her usual smile, Cassie lifted her right hand and made a subtle gesture, then focused on Headmistress.  "Do you feel it?  The school has healed itself."

"Yes, Cassandra," Headmistress agreed, "but let's discuss the matter at hand."  Her eyes were on the three naked, sweaty, blushing students standing between Cassie and Ffion.

"I believe the matters are related," Cassie stated.  "The Room of Requirement was the missing element, and these three students are probably responsible for its restoration."

Headmistress' frown deepened. "You are suggesting their desire to have a secret chamber in which to perform their illicit spell-casting drew the attention of the Room and helped it find its way back."

"I am," Cassie nodded, "and with all due respect, was their 'student project' illicit, or merely ill-advised?"

Headmistress continued her frowning gaze.  "We'll see."

Meanwhile, Ffion had gathered the four wands scattered around the chamber and returned to her place.  Her own wand was in her right hand and at the ready.  Hermione's, Ginny's, and Luna's wands were tightly held in her left.

Just then, a small, tightly wrapped bundle flew through the open door, into the chamber, and settled into Cassie's open hands.  She untied a bow, shook out the bundle, and it was revealed to be a silk robe.  And it was a beautiful garment, a paisley print, predominantly in shades of purple, but with sage-green, and burnt-orange highlights.  She shrugged into the robe and cinched the sash around her waist.

"Good idea," Ffion muttered under her breath, and waved her wand.

Hermione noticed that Ffion's pubic hair was the same violet color as her hair.  Then, she noticed that Ffion had noticed her noticing, and Hermione's blush deepened.

Headmistress gazed at her Sentinel Magus.  "Ffion Tonks," she intoned, "please reassure me that this is not related to the shenanigans you used to engage in with your cousin Nymphadora."

For the first time, it was clear that the flush coloring Ffion's face was from embarrassment, and not anger.  "No Headmistress."  Also, her hair had "blushed" hot pink, pubic hair included.

"I take it you're referring to our resident Auror's student days?" Cassie chuckled.

"Yes," Headmistress confirmed, "but it would be inappropriate to discuss the details in front of students."  A ghost of a smile curled Minerva's lips.  "Meaning current students," she added.

"Of course, Headmistress," Cassie agreed.

Hermione, Ginny, and Luna exchanged significant looks, then dropped their collective gaze to their toes.  Ffion had noticed their interest, her frown had redoubled, and her hair was rapidly cycling between violet and pink in rippling waves.

Headmistress successfully restored her authoritative frown.  "You three follow me," she said to the students, then turned and left the chamber.

"Naked?" Ginny objected in a whining squeal.

"Don't worry," Cassie chuckled.  "I've cast a confusion spell.  Anyone we meet in the halls won't be able to tell who or what they're seeing."

"That's nice," Luna said, smiling her usual dazed smile.

Hermione was still too embarrassed for words.

As they crossed the threshold and entered the main dungeon corridor, a collection of knee-boots and gray clothing spun or fluttered through the air and landed at Ffion's bare feet.  Last of all came a hot pink bra and panties set.  "I'll catch you up, Headmistress," Ffion said as she started dressing.

"Very well," Headmistress responded as she turned away and strode down the corridor.  The three naked and still sweaty students padded right behind on their bare feet.  Cassie, serene and totally at ease, brought up the rear, also on bare feet.

Hermione Granger & the Wrappity Wrope
Chapter 7

Hermione, Ginny, and Luna followed Headmistress like three naked, obedient ducklings waddling in a line behind their mother.  They passed several groups of students of all years and houses.  A few frowned as they strolled past, as if suddenly confused by something, but none stared at their nude schoolmates.  Obviously, Cassie's shield spell was working.  Hermione looked back over her shoulder and her cheeks blushed bright red, again, when the beautiful, robe-clad American winked at her.  She managed a weak smile in response, then turned to face front.

"What's all this, then?" the stone eagle demanded in its Scottish accent as the group arrived at the secret stairs to Headmistress' office.  "Naked lassies?"

"Open," Headmistress muttered.

"Well," the eagle statue huffed as it rumbled to the side, "that's a bonnie fit like min."

Hermione didn't quite understand what the eagle had said—some Scottish slang, no doubt—and she certainly didn't like its disapproving frown.  The two teachers and three students climbed the stairs to the office, becoming six as Ffion, now fully dressed, finally caught up to the group.

Headmistress settled into her throne-like chair and gazed at the three students standing in a line on the far side of her elaborately carved desk.  Cassie stood on the girls' left, and Ffion on their right.

"Tell me everything," Headmistress intoned, "and leave nothing out."

Luna smiled serenely, Hermione stared at her feet, and Ginny did most of the talking.  After all, crafting a magical gift for Harry had been her idea.  At one point, Ffion produced a rolled scroll and handed it to Headmistress, who unrolled it on her desk.  It was Ginny's Muldoon diagram.

"Oh good," Luna said.  "It survived."

Back in the dungeon, Hermione hadn't even noticed the parchment on the floor.  She'd been too busy trying to make herself invisible and/or finding a rock to crawl under.

Headmistress and Cassie gazed at the diagram for several seconds.

"The oneiric element," Cassie said, finally.

"I agree," Headmistress said quietly.

Hermione and Ginny exchanged a confused look.  What oneiric element?  Luna's vacant smile was unchanged.

"The Muldoon Method has inherent limitations," Headmistress said, "as you've been taught."  She was addressing all three students.  "And the more complex the spell, the greater the unpredictability and the greater the chance of unforeseen effects.  There is a very good reason first-years are required to attempt their first magic in the appropriate classroom, be it Charms, Transfiguration, or Potions.  Special spells protect all of our classrooms, and teachers are always alert for the unintended and potentially dangerous."

"That's also the reason the first act of most magical scholars and inventors is to create their own protected laboratory," Cassie added.

Hermione might be blushing and embarrassed, but she was still Hermione.  Slowly, she raised her right hand.

"Miss Granger?" Headmistress purred.

"Oeniric element, Headmistress?" Hermione asked.

Headmistress reached for a blank sheet of parchment, then used her wand to magically replicate several sets of runic symbols from different parts of Ginny's diagram, lift them into the air, and send them spinning towards the blank parchment.  The strings of symbols drifted together, the threads wrapped and intertwined, and then dropped to the parchment.  The result was strikingly similar to the core of a classic dream-sending spell.

Hermione leaned across the desk, her brow knitted in concentration.  "But... the components are from different quadrants."

"Oneiric energy is powerful and intrinsically cohesive," Headmistress explained, "and Miss Weasley's spell is a compounding evocation.  The outcome was at least partially predictable."  She smiled.  "You are one of the brightest students ever to attend this school, Miss Granger, but you lack experience.  I don't believe arrogance or pride are at play"

"Not unjustified pride, anyway," Cassie interrupted.

Headmistress' smile broadened.  "Thank you, Professor Nightingale."  She refocused on Hermione.  "You all lack experience.  In future, please comply with the school rules, as they were unequivocally laid out for you in your first year.  You will clear all attempts to conjure or craft original magic with the appropriate teacher... without exception."

"Yes, Headmistress," Hermione, Ginny, and Luna droned in unison.

"I'm afraid detention is called for," Headmistress purred.

Hermione and Ginny sighed.  They couldn't help themselves.  Luna's smile was unchanged.

"I'd also like to volunteer for a nice Obliviate spell," Ginny muttered under her breath.  The Obliviate spell removes all or selected memories from the target's mind.

"Headmistress just pointed out the need for experience," Cassie purred.  "Experiences—good and bad—are important.  It's called living."

"Yes, Professor," Ginny sighed.

A ghost of a smile on her lips, Headmistress turned to Ffion.  "Sentinel Magus, I put the matter of detention in your hands."

Ffion smiled, which did nothing to reassure the naked students.

"There is one more thing," Headmistress said, then reached into the pocket of her robe, pulled out a simple bracelet of braided rope, and placed it on the desk.

"Oh, good," Luna said, smiling at the bracelet.  "It is manly, and not pretty."  She shifted her smile to Ginny.  "Well done."

Hermione was confused, then realized what had happened.  "Oh, Headmistress, you released us by bringing the spell to its intended conclusion."

"Yes, Miss Granger," Headmistress confirmed, then turned to Ginny.  "But Miss Weasley, I'm afraid I can't allow you to have such a potentially powerful charmed object until it has been thoroughly evaluated."  She smiled at Cassie.  "Cassandra?"

"I'll see to it, Headmistress," Cassie said, then picked up the bracelet and slid it over her right wrist.  They watched as the bracelet resized itself, shrinking until it fit Cassie's slender wrist perfectly.  She gave Ginny a reassuring smile.  "I'm sure I'll be able to give it to you before graduation," she said with a wink, "so you can give it to Mr. Potter."

"Thank you, Professor," Ginny responded, a delicate blush highlighting the freckles on her cheeks.

"Manly, pretty," Luna said absently, "I guess it's a matter of who's wearing it."

Hermione Granger & the Wrappity Wrope
Chapter 7

Cassie escorted Hermione and Ginny back to Gryffindor and Ffion escorted Luna back to Ravenclaw.  The confusion spell got the still naked students to their dorm room, although the next day there was talk that several of the boys thought they'd seen a semi-transparent apparition of Professor Nightingale walking through the common room wearing nothing but a silk robe.  This was met with expressions of disgust on the part of their female housemates (except for Hermione and Ginny) and was chalked up to wishful thinking and male hormones.  "Boys!"

Hermione and Ginny didn't feel like talking about what had happened, not tonight, anyway.  They completed their nightly toilette, donned their respective pajamas, climbed into their respective beds, and drifted off to sleep.  But soon thereafter—

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Hermione awoke to find herself in a strange bedroom.  It was a luxurious chamber, with walls of dressed stone and a vaulted ceiling.  It may have been somewhere in Hogwarts; it had the "feel."  There were the usual canopy bed, chairs, tables, wardrobe, etc., but also some slightly unusual decorative items somewhat out of place at Hogwarts.  Hanging across the room was a painting of a magnificent mountain wilderness that was clearly not a part of the UK.  The tallest Welsh hills and most elevated of the Scottish highlands were minor foothills next to the rocky crags depicted.  Hermione suspected the landscape was a depiction of someplace in western North America.  There was also a wall hanging of intricately intertwined leather thongs, beads, and shells with a fringed rawhide border that Hermione suspected might be Native American.  And strangest of all...

Hermione tugged on her wrists and ankles, but they were held fast by tight bands of rope.  Additional rope bound her to a web of rope stretched across a rectangular frame of oak timbers.  She was set back a few degrees from the vertical, and the frame was part of a complicated machine with gears and counterweights dangling from chains.  It was something like a muggle loom or printing press, but what was it doing in a bedroom?  And why was Hermione its prisoner?

Just then, the bedroom door opened and two figures entered, both dressed in formal attire.

First came Cassie Nightingale, wearing a truly magnificent, full-length, strapless gown of thousands, if not millions of exceedingly tiny red beads, or possibly precious rubies.  They hugged her every curve and revealed every detail of her exquisite anatomy, and the semi-transparent nature of the beads or rubies did only a little to hide her nipples, navel, or pubic bush.  The back of the gown plunged as far as it could go without exposing what might delicately be called an "after-cleavage," and it hugged her breasts and torso like a second skin before falling into folds at her hips and then draping to the floor.  It was a magical gown, literally.  The rubies might not be sewn together at all, but held by a binding spell that adhered them to her skin.  Cassie had never been more beautiful, and at her side, escorting her by her left arm was—Ron!

Hermione mewled through her gag and tugged on her bonds in earnest.  Oh, that's right—she was gagged—a silk cleave-gag with silk stuffing—and she was naked.

Ron was wearing dress robes, but not the ridiculous hand-me-down robes his mother had sent him for the Triwizards Tournament Ball in their fourth year.  He was wearing an expensive set of modern robes, like Harry had worn to the ball, similar to a muggle's white tie and tails, but with a full-length black robe instead of a coat.  He'd never looked more handsome... or sexy... but what was he doing with Cassie Nightingale on his arm?  "Mrrpfh!"  And why was he ignoring his naked, bound, and gagged girlfriend?

Hermione watched as Ron spun Cassie around, pulled her into a tight embrace, dipped her, and kissed her luscious lips.  "Nrrrf!"

"Stop that, you silly boy," Cassie giggled as she stood erect and broke the embrace.  "That's not why we're here."  She took Ron by the hand and led him to the frame holding Hermione captive.  "Beautiful, isn't she?"

Ron's eyes were on Hermione—all of Hermione—and his smile was... predatory?  "Urrrk?"

"Miss Granger requires experience," Cassie purred, "and so do you, Ronald.  Touch her."

Still smiling (like a fool), Ron reached out and cupped Hermione's breasts—"Mrrrpfh!"—and began toying with her nipples!

Hermione squirmed and struggled, but she was helpless!  Oh, Ron!

"Good boy," Cassie chuckled, then took two steps back, struck an arcane pose, and gestured with her hands.

Four things happened very quickly: (1) Ron's face went blank as he released Hermione's breasts and stepped back from the frame; (2) in a whirlwind of fluttering cloth, Ron's clothing flew from his body, folded itself, and formed a neat pile on the seat of a chair across the bedroom; (3) Ron was lifted into the air, levitated to a position directly above Hermione's spreadeagled form, and ropes tightened around his wrists, ankles, and other parts of his anatomy, lashing him to different elements of the same framework/machine that imprisoned Hermione; (4) and finally, a delicate pair of red panties levitated across the room, stuffed themselves into his mouth, and were tied in place by his own white silk tie!

Cassie stepped to the frame and its two captives.  "Yes, you both need experience."  She placed her left hand on Hermione's labia and began a gentle, gliding massage.  And with her right hand, she gently grasped Ron's penis, cupped it in her strong, tan fingers, and began massaging it as well.  "You will ride the pleasure rack until dawn, and gain... experience."

Hermione writhed in her bonds and mewled through her gag.  Her eyes were locked with Ron's as he also struggled and shivered in his bonds.

"Your children will be beautiful," Cassie purred, "as well as strong, intelligent, and kind.  I foresee it."  Her hands continued working their magic—although actual magic might or might not have been involved.

Hermione felt herself getting wet... and tingly.

Ron's member grew flushed and erect.  His gagged face was also flushed.

And then, Cassie released her holds, gestured, and the machine's gears began to turn.  The mechanism brought the young lovers together—intimately together—its gears ground and counterweights slowly dropped.  A rocking motion developed... and gained momentum.

"Enjoy yourselves," Cassie purred, stepped to her bed, made a gesture, and her ruby gown exploded from her magnificent body, its countless tiny gems swirled in a cloud, then coalesced into a single large, perfectly cut, flawless ruby.  Cassie placed the ruby on the nightstand, lifted her arms and stretched, then climbed between the sheets, rested her head on a pillow, and smiled.  "Goodnight, young lovers," she sighed, then waved her hand.  The charmed candles around the bedroom dimmed, and Cassie closed her eyes.

Across the darkened chamber, Hermione was oblivious to all but what was happening to her spreadeagled, helpless body.  Ron was inside her, and the machine was setting a gradually escalating pace, and it felt good, every bit good as she'd imagined it would feel—and she meant making love with Ron, of course, not the bondage.  She had no idea where the bondage had come from, but sex with Ron, even bondage sex, felt good.

Ron (and/or the machine) was thrusting into her, and she was going to cum, and she was in heaven, and she could tell she would cum soon, and so would Ron, and then—she woke up.

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Hermione blinked in the near darkness.  She was back in her own bedroom, in her own bed, and at some point she'd thrown back the covers.  Obviously—with respect to the whole Ron-and-the-Pleasure-Rack thing—she'd been dreaming.

Suddenly, she realized she was tied to her bed by coils of the living wrope vine!  They'd somehow grown or wiggled down from the rafters and wound themselves around Hermione's body from shoulders to toes!  Her pajama bottom and tank-top were intact, but her arms were pinned to her sides, her legs together, and—"Mrrrf?"—strands of vine cleaved her mouth!  She squirmed and struggled, but the vines grew tighter.  They were hugging her, not squeezing her, but she was helpless!

Hermione lifted her vine-gagged head from her pillow, shook her tousled brown hair from her face, and gazed across the room at Ginny's bed.

Her red-haired roommate was also bound and gagged by living vines, and in the same manner as herself!  But in addition, Ginny's green Holyhead Harpies pajama top was unbuttoned and clusters of vine leaves were caressing her breasts and nipples!  Several more vines had snaked down the waistband of her matching pajama bottom and were also moving!  Ginny was moving as well.  Her eyes were closed and she appeared to be asleep—but it was a troubled sleep, or perhaps her slumber was... eventful.

I'm still dreaming, Hermione thought.  I must be dreaming.  Surely the wrope vine doesn't diddle us as we sleep.  That would be absurd.  I must be dreaming.  She blinked in the near darkness and looked around the bedroom.  Everything certainly looked normal.  Everything was exactly as it had been when they went to bed, and the vines binding her body felt very real.  She struggled and twisted her helpless body, to no avail.  But it has to be a dream, she reasoned.  It can't be real.

The best thing to do was ignore everything—including the whimpering moans drifting over from Ginny's bed.  Yes, ignore everything and let the dream dissipate.

Hermione closed her eyes and let her vine-bound body relax... and drifted off to sleep... or continued sleeping.  That was it, continued sleeping.  After all, it must be a dream.


Hermione Granger & the Wrappity Wrope
Chapter 7

Chapter 6
Chapter 8