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SIYE Time:7:42 on 19th March 2024
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Division of Loyalties
By Jeannette Hetfield

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Category: Post-OotP
Characters:All, Harry/Ginny
Genres: Angst, Drama
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 3
Summary: One week into the summer after Cedric Diggory's death and Harry's declaration that Voldemort is back, causes repercussions that surprises the entire Weasley family.
Hitcount: Story Total: 4298







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Author's Notes: This is my take on the argument between Percy and his Dad that Ron told Harry about in OotP. I was flipping through OotP and re-reading certain parts and this ficlet popped into my head. It wasn’t originally going to have anything about Harry and Ginny, but I steered it in that direction because…what else do I think about when it comes to these books?
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of JK Rowling. This story is written solely because of my admiration and love for Harry.



The Burrow-the summer following Ginny's third year.

Ginny Weasley was not having a good day. She’d woken up feeling out of sorts with a killer headache and she hadn’t been able to shake the heaviness that had been following her around all day. It was cloudy outside too, perfectly matching her mood. One week into the summer holiday hadn’t produced much sunlight. It seemed even the weather had turned on them and it was no wonder with what had just happened at the end of last term.

Ginny shuddered at the memory of Harry Potter suddenly appearing at the maze clinging to the body of Cedric Diggory and bringing the terrible news that You-Know-Who had returned. Now Harry was stuck with the Dursleys again until Dumbledore said he would be allowed to join her family. She looked forward to seeing Harry again, but knew better than to expect anything from him. He’d never given her much notice and after the last three years of hoping for something unattainable, Ginny had given up.

Yet she couldn’t deny that thinking about him still, and probably always would, result in a flutter of the stomach and a quickening of her heart. She continually cursed these ridiculous sensations that caused nothing but trouble. Well, she'd just have to ignore them and go about her own way. It wasn't worth ruining her upcoming fourth year.

She did admit to herself with a slightly pleased smile that recently, she hadn't thought about Harry as much. That was progress, wasn't it? She'd even talked it over with Mum, who had been supportive of Ginny's decision to move on, but had still insisted Ginny not give up on Harry. He was after all, only a boy and they often needed a push in the right direction when it came to girls because they certainly couldn't figure it out on their own. Her brother Ron was certainly proof of that.

"Ouch!" Ginny cried, as she pricked herself with the needle.

She'd been mending her school robes for lack of anything better to do and had to do it by hand since she wasn't allowed to use magic at home yet. She didn't mind though, as it was a slow process and gave her time to think. She seemed to be doing a lot of thinking lately.

"Typical," she muttered resignedly, glaring at the tiny dot of blood on her finger. She just about chucked the needle, thread and robes across the room just to satisfy her bad mood, but grit her teeth and stabbed at the material instead, beginning a new seam.

After another boring hour of mending went by, the light dimmed considerably to where Ginny had to squint to see what she was doing. The sun had disappeared and it was probably close to dinner. She set aside the mending at last and opened her door, absently rubbing the finger she had pricked, which was now sore.

Ginny stopped on the landing, however, surprised to see Fred, George and Ron huddled at the topmost stair, all heads bowed as if listening. She came up next to George and asked, "What's going on?"

He answered, "Percy's got his knickers in a bunch about something."

"Must be cutting his circulation off," muttered Fred.

She peered over the railing. Percy was still dressed for work, immaculate as usual, horn-rimmed glasses flashing in the firelight and not a hair out of place.

"Where is Dad?" he asked their Mum, who came bustling out of the kitchen, sticking her wand in her apron pocket.

Ginny glanced at the clock. The hand for her father indicated he was still at work.

"I imagine he'll be home any minute, dear and you're just in time. Dinner should be ready soon," she said, turning to go back to the kitchen.

"Dinner can wait!" Percy said quickly, throwing out his arms to stop her. He then began restlessly pacing.

"What's going on?" asked Mum anxiously. "Nothing wrong, I hope?"

"No, no!" he insisted, coming to a stop, looking extremely pleased with himself and grinning smugly. "Everything is right for a change."

"Then what?" Ron called impatiently. "You've interrupted something important!"

"Hermione's letter will still be there when you get back," said Fred slyly.

Ron scowled at him and their dad appeared in the living room with a sudden pop. Ginny sank down onto the step next to Ron, not feeling too good about the upcoming conversation. Whenever Percy got excited about something, it generally wasn’t a good thing.

“At last!” yelled George. “I was beginning to think Percy would keep us imprisoned until Muggles took over the world.”

Dad looked quite exhausted as he shrugged off his cloak, sank into a worn armchair and dropped his briefcase to the floor. Ginny couldn’t help but worry a bit. He’d been spending much more time at the Ministry since the return of You-Know-Who, as most of the Ministry members were, and he’d come home late every night and be gone before she got up in the morning. His normally cheery-eyed expression was sadly missing tonight. Ginny shivered and hugged herself to try to shake the sudden chill that had possessed her.

“I have the most amazing news!” Percy exclaimed, eyes alight with excitement. He bounced up and down on the balls of his feet.

“What is it, son?” he asked wearily, rubbing a hand over his face and blinking rapidly as though struggling to stay awake.

Percy drew himself up in a dignified sort of way and thrust his chin forward. “I’ve been promoted,” he said grandly.

A very strained silence followed this remark. Percy’s smile slowly faded as their dad failed to respond with immediate praise. Indeed, Ginny had never seen her dad look so…disgusted. The tinkling of pots and pans cooking their dinner in the kitchen was the only noise in the Weasley home. Even the ghoul in the attic had quieted.

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” Percy asked with an edge to his tone, his smile fading.

“Yes. I…heard,” said Dad slowly. He got up from the chair with a groan and faced Percy who was obviously affronted by the lack of enthusiasm to his announcement.

“You can imagine my surprise,” Percy went on, though he didn’t sound surprised at all.

Ginny and Ron exchanged worried glances. Their dad’s face was going red. Mum approached Percy and asked quietly, “But why would they promote you? You haven’t been there that long.”

“Yeah, or done anything good enough to get promoted,” Ron muttered darkly. Luckily, Percy didn’t hear.

“Well,” Percy began, looking down his nose at Mum. “Minister Fudge’s office was in need of a dedicated and skilled wizard. Only those of superior skill are elected to work beside the Minister. To think…only one year out of Hogwarts! You are privileged to know the new Junior Assistant to the Minister. I expect you’ll be thrilled to stop by my office. My name will be on the door come tomorrow,” he finished, glancing at his shoulder, picking the lint off and straightening his tie.

“Percy!” Dad said so suddenly and so sharply that everyone jumped. “Have you stopped once today to consider why you’ve been promoted?”

Percy smiled importantly. “He obviously knows talent when he sees it.”

Fred and George rolled their eyes. “Come off it,” said Fred. “Clipping toenails is better than this.”

“Should you need us,” said George, “We’ll be in our room not listening and not caring.”

From years of knowing Percy as well as Ginny did, the twins didn’t bother other people too much, but they certainly bothered Percy.

“What do they know?” he spat as they went into their room. “Jealous obviously. Hardly an O.W.L. between them.”

“They know more than you think,” said Dad, his voice rising. “Apparently more than you.”

Percy swelled like a bullfrog. “I beg your pardon?”

"Since when is Fudge so gracious, Percy?" he asked curtly. "He's not known to be a benefactor and just hand out jobs that require years of experience."

Percy went rigid, obviously insulted. "Obviously, I did not require years, Father," he said, switching to the informal title for their Dad. Ginny wrinkled her nose. It almost sounded like Draco Malfoy's tone.

"Do you have any idea what underhanded tasks Fudge has been up to with each department?" questioned Dad.

"There's always the threat of the Dark Arts and with Sirius Black still loose–" Ron and Ginny exchanged looks–"The Ministry needs to be on alert."

"You must have missed the memo, then."

"Arthur, you'd better explain," piped up Mum. "Did something happen today at work?"

“Fudge has made it known to every Ministry office that we are not to have contact with Dumbledore!” he yelled, suddenly showing a rare side of anger.

Ginny squeezed Ron’s arm tightly. Dad never yelled.

“Dumbledore!” scoffed Percy, as though finding his former professor’s name a joke. “It’s right good of Minister Fudge. Dumbledore is barking mad!”

“How dare you?!” roared Dad.

Ginny and Ron both jumped. Fred and George suddenly reappeared, faces set with deep scowls. “Bloody fool,” muttered Fred. Ginny played nervously with the frayed material of the hole in the knee of her jeans. She'd known the bad feeling she'd woken up with today was definitely not a good sign.

“After everything Dumbledore has done for our family! We owe him more than you could ever know. You were safe at Hogwarts for seven years because of him! Why all the children at Hogwarts are still safe! He’s the only reason we’re not all dead by now!”

“Oh yes, the great Dumbledore!” Percy mocked. “The world cannot revolve without his interference!”

“Percy, you–“ Dad said warningly, taking a step towards his fuming son.

Percy interrupted quickly. “He’s just interfering with Ministry operations. Loves to keep his name in the Daily Prophet. He’s old and nearing the end of his life. The attention must do him wonders.”

“Can you even hear yourself?” asked Dad incredulously.

“Dumbledore has been lying to us all,” he said, folding his arms and snapping his chin up. “The Minister and I are the only ones brave enough to admit it. You-Know-Who has not returned and if you don’t change your tune, your job might be in jeopardy.”

“What’s he talking about, Arthur?” asked Mum sharply.

“Fudge has made it clear that we can clean out our desks if we have further association with Dumbledore.”

The secret meetings had begun. The Order of the Phoenix was growing fast. They had no choice but to unite quickly and secretly at all costs. Percy obviously didn’t know his own father, mother and two of his siblings were members. If Dad had planned on telling him, he certainly wouldn’t now.

Mum huffed and placed her hands on her hips with eyes blazing. “How can you listen to Fudge? He’s the one who’s mad, not Dumbledore!”

“You’re just as blind as him," he sneered, pointing his thumb over his shoulder at Dad. "Dumbledore has got you lot brainwashed. It’s no wonder considering Dumbledore’s soft spot for Muggles and yours,” he said, rounding on their father angrily. “Your obsession with Muggles says a lot for your sanity.”

“Percy!” snapped Mum. She grabbed his arm, but he shrugged her off.

“My sanity?” shouted Dad. “You’re the one who’s been duped. I reckon the only reason Fudge hired you is because he wants you to spy–report whatever he thinks is illegal!”

Percy balled shaking fists. His face flushed red and his lips went white with rage. “Minister Fudge promoted me because I’m perfect for the job! I’d never have gotten anywhere were it not for his guidance. You think I’d have made a name for myself coming from this family without Minister Fudge?”

“Yes, you could have!” raged Dad. “Just because we don’t have much money, doesn’t mean we aren’t a respected family in the wizard community!”

“The Weasleys are a laughingstock!” he said ruthlessly. “You should have stopped with me, then we wouldn’t have to wear hand-me-downs. He pointed to the patched robe Dad had draped over the back of the faded sofa. He turned glaring eyes up to the stairs where Fred, George, Ron and Ginny were sitting. “Fred and George wouldn’t embarrass us with their stupid pranks. Ginny wouldn’t have embarrassed us by that fiasco with Tom Riddle’s diary and Ron wouldn’t embarrass us by being Harry Potter’s best friend!”

Ron shot to his feet and nearly flew down the stairs, but for Ginny latching onto his ankle from her spot on the floor. “Wait,” she breathed quietly. Ron merely folded his arms and shrugged his leg out of her grasp, but he didn’t move and continued to watch Percy with a venomous glare. Percy’s remark about the diary reopened the still unhealed wounds and regrets of her horrid first year. Ginny struggled to not leap off the stairs right onto Percy's head.

Percy still ranted. He seemed so bitter that Ginny assumed he’d been stewing over this for years. “We look like fools, the lot of us! The crazy Muggle obsession you have makes us look stupid. All you do is play with your plugs and batteries. It’s all you care about. You’ve never had ambition. You’ve never fought to better our family name and we’re practically destitute because of you! No wonder Lucius Malfoy makes his snide comments daily!”

“Watch your mouth, Percival!” shrieked Mrs. Weasley.

“It’s the truth, Mum!” He pointed a rude finger into his father’s face. “If you side with Dumbledore, you’ll fall with him, and you’ll have no one but yourself to thank for it. This is a family of traitors and I’ll make it known that I no longer belong to it. Everyone will know of my loyalty to the Ministry!”

A vein twitched in Dad’s forehead and he took a thunderous step towards Percy. “You-Know-Who is back!” he raged. “Now is not the time to start fighting amongst ourselves. This is exactly the kind of chaos You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters crave! If we are divided, we are weaker, more easily overcome.”

“What proof?” cried Percy, gesturing wildly about the room with his arms, as though asking them to find the answer there among the shabby furniture. “How can you prove You-Know-Who is back?”

“Cedric Diggory is dead!” bellowed Dad. “Is that proof enough?”

“Of course, I should have known Harry would worm his way into the conversation,” Percy said scathingly, rolling his eyes. “Harry Potter and his bloody scar! The tragic little hero. All we have is his word.”

“And that should be good enough,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

“Well, it’s not good enough for me! Haven’t you been reading The Daily Prophet?” Percy reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out a copy of the wizarding newspaper. He glanced at the front page and waved it in his father’s face. “All he ever does is get himself into the headlines. He craves the limelight. Harry’s no better than Gilderoy Lockhart or Dumbledore.”

Dad ripped the paper out of Percy’s hands, balled it up and threw it across the room. “Attention is the last thing Harry wants and if you knew him, you’d see that.”

“So he says!” he scoffed. “If anyone else shows up with a scar in the middle of his head we’ll be expected to worship him too.”

“Percy what has come over you?” Mum cried, aghast.

“Me? I’m not the one mooning over that deluded, attention seeking child and if you can’t see past his scar, then I’ll not be associated with this family any longer!”

With that, Percy snatched up the ruined Daily Prophet and smoothed it out as he slammed up the stairs, narrowly missing Ginny’s fingers as he thundered down the landing to his room and slammed the door.

Dad stood in the middle of the room, red-faced and breathing heavy. He stumbled back and dropped into the chair, wiping his face with his hands. Mum choked back a sob and ran into the kitchen. The four of them sat at the top of the stairs in stunned silence.

“I can’t believe that prat is our brother!” Ron blurted suddenly.

“Yeah, well…good riddance,” said Fred viciously. “I’ve had it up to here with Minister this and Minister that.”

“He actually thinks Harry’s lying?” said Ron disbelievingly. “Does he even know the same person we know?”

“Obviously not,” snapped George. “Percy can’t see past his big nose or his cauldron bottoms.”

Ginny barely heard them for the ringing in her ears. She had never been so angry in her life. With every intent to tell him off, she jumped up and stormed towards Percy’s room. She tried the handle and it was locked. She began pounding with her fists so loud the hinges rattled.

“Percy! Open the bloody door! Now!”

He didn’t acknowledge her, but she heard the distinct noises of hurried packing. Ginny continued pounding and even kicked at the door. He yanked it open finally and she brushed past him inside to the pristine bedroom.

“What the hell is the matter with you?!” she yelled.

“You watch your language, Ginevra Weasley!” he scolded.

Ginny ignored him. “What gives you the right to yell at Dad and Mum like that?”

He bristled. “I wasn’t the only one and I didn’t start it!”

“But you certainly finished it, didn’t you?” she shrieked. “How could you say such terrible things to Dad?”

Percy didn’t answer. He yanked the lid of his trunk open and with a wave of his wand, clothes flew from his closet and bureau into neat piles. Ginny had to duck as shoes came whizzing by, almost crashing into her face. Scrolls of parchment fluttered by and landed one by one into another smaller trunk containing quills, ink and numerous copies of The Daily Prophet. Ginny snatched one up and scanned the article, which mentioned Harry and followed with the words ‘deluded’ and ‘lies’.

“How can you believe this rubbish?” she asked angrily, smacking the front page.

He ripped the paper from her hands and put it back in the truck, then slammed the lid shut. “The Daily Prophet employs only the finest.”

“The finest idiots you mean,” she argued. “They couldn’t print the truth if You-Know-Who was standing right in front of them.”

“Which is not likely to happen since he hasn’t returned,” Percy said, pushing her out of the way to the close the other trunk.

“You’re scared,” she accused quietly. “Just as scared as Fudge.”

“Minister Fudge,” Percy corrected. “Address him by his proper title.”

“He’s done nothing to earn it if you ask me,” Ginny replied stonily, folding her arms in defiance.

Percy narrowed his eyes at her. “You’ve been listening to Dad too much.”

“And you haven’t! How can you take Fudge’s word over Dad’s? Dad has never lied to us!”

“I know he’s not lying, Ginny,” Percy said condescendingly and slowly, as though she were a small child incapable of carrying on an adult conversation. “He’s become too attached to Harry, just like the rest of you.”

It took all of Ginny’s self-control not to launch herself at her brother. “Harry would never lie about this!” she said through gritted teeth. “Do you even understand what he’s been through, what he’s still going through?”

“I grow weary of talking about him,” Percy said, waving a dismissive hand. “He’s nothing but a spoiled little boy.”

“Oh yes,” Ginny said tersely. “Being forced to sleep in a cupboard for eleven years clearly means spoiled.”

Percy wrinkled his nose, as if in disgust. “It’s mad, you know? The way you lot fall all over yourselves to make sure Harry’s protected, Harry’s taken care of, Harry’s word is written in stone. You, however, young Ginevra, are worse than everyone put together.”

“And what it that supposed to mean?” she asked dangerously, narrowing her eyes to slits.

“If I have to spell it out for you…” he said, drawing himself up in what he thought was an intimidating stance. “You can’t see past his big green eyes. If he had an extra nose and warts all over his forehead to match the scar, would you still believe everything he says?”

“Yes!” she said fiercely without hesitation.

Percy tutted. “Yeah right! You wouldn’t believe half of what he says or follow him around like a puppy if he weren’t handsome.”

“I don’t follow him around like a puppy!” she said, knowing and not caring that her cheeks were blazing red.

“Of course you don’t,” he said sarcastically. “It doesn’t hurt either that he just so happens to have a vault full of gold.”

Ginny opened her mouth to yell some more, but no sound came out. She’d never once cared about how much gold Harry had or didn’t have. She’d never even thought about it.

“Ha!” he cried triumphantly when she didn’t respond.

“I don’t care about that and I never will,” she said, seething with quiet rage. Her fists at her sides drew into tight balls and she was just about to hit Percy when he delivered another crushing blow.

He rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s not like you’ll ever get the chance will you? Since our father lacks the ambition to give pride to our name, you wear secondhand robes and scuffed shoes. Harry’s never looked twice at you and I wouldn’t wait on him to ever look because Cho Chang is blocking you from every angle.”

Ginny stared at him in shock. A huge lump pushed against her throat with a fierce burning. Before Percy could say anything worse, she ran out of the room, slamming the door in his face, vaguely registering the pop as he Disapparated. Tears welled in her eyes once she reached the safety of her own room and collapsed onto her bed. She bit down on her lip, trying to control her breathing and squeezing her eyes shut. She was not going to cry. She was not going to cry. She was…

“Not…going…to…c-cry,” she stammered softly into her pillow.

“Every girl needs a good cry now and then,” said a gentle voice.

Ginny jumped and rolled over to see her mother standing in the doorway, her eyes red and swollen. She sat down on the bed and squeezed Ginny’s knee.

“I came up to Percy’s room to see if maybe I could talk some sense into him and I heard what he said to you,” she whispered. “And don’t you dare believe any of it.”

“I don’t,” she said defensively, yet…

“Ginny, Percy doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“I know that,” she said, sighing with irritation as two tears leaked down the side of her face. She brushed them aside angrily. “I’ve always thought he was a bit stupid, going on all the time about the Ministry and all that.”

“Yes, but I meant what he said about Harry to you.”

Ginny looked sharply at her mum. “It’s not anything I haven’t heard before. Mostly from the Slytherins.”

“But your own brother said it to you and that hurts so much more.”

Ginny shrugged and looked away, fighting more tears. “He’s wrong, Mum. Harry’s not like that.”

“I know, Ginny. We all know that. Percy’s just going through a difficult time right now. He really looks up to Fudge and both sides are badmouthing each other. It's hard for him to discern anything.”

“Don’t make excuses for him, Mum!” she snapped. “He meant every word. I’ll bet he’s been wanting to say all that for years.”

Mum busied herself with smoothing the creases in Ginny’s pillow. “He’ll come round once he’s had time to think it over.”

“How can you be so sure?” Ginny asked skeptically.

“We’re family. We’ve always looked out for each other. I’ll talk to him after he’s had a chance to cool down.”

Ginny didn’t believe Percy would change his mind anytime soon, but she didn’t say this to Mum for fear of hurting her. Mum sniffed a bit, but gave her a watery smile.

“How’s Dad?” she asked tentatively, wiping her cheeks dry.

Mum frowned for barely a second, but replaced it with a smile as though afraid Ginny would notice. “Your father is all right. He’s just tired. I’ll have a talk with him after dinner and we’ll figure out what to do about Percy.”

Ginny nodded. A small explosion erupted from the room above her, rattling the windows, and both she and Mum glanced uneasily at the ceiling. Fred and George were no doubt working on a little something for Percy. Ginny couldn’t wait to find out what it would be.

Mum shook her head. “Those two,” she sighed. “Anyway, let’s you and I talk about Harry for a bit.”

“Mum, please…!” Ginny began. This was the last person she wanted to talk about right now, with the exception of Percy.

“Hear me out.”

“All right,” Ginny mumbled, flopping back down to her pillow.

“Has he ever given you reason at all to think he might, well…you know?” she asked gently.

“No, Mum. Nothing. At. All.”

“Well, you’re friends at least, right? Many relationships start with friendship and–what?” she asked, because Ginny snorted derisively.

“Harry and I have never been friends. We’ve barely said ten words to each other in the past four years. He’s never even tried to be my friend.”

“Have you tried to be his?” countered her mother.

“What?” Ginny cried, sitting up.

“Have you tried being his friend?” she asked again reasonably.

“Well, I…no,” she muttered, turning her face to the opposite wall.

“Well, it’s no wonder!” she exclaimed. “Ginny if you’ve never even tried, then how can you know he doesn’t want to be your friend?”

“He’s got Ron and Hermione and besides, you’ve never seen the way they clam up whenever I’m anywhere near them. It’s like they think I’ll run off and tell somebody…or…or huddle in a corner and write it in a diary or something," she said bitterly.

“Oh, I’m sure they don’t think that.”

“Yes, they do!” she argued.

“Hermione doesn’t. You and she seem to have grown closer lately. Ron doesn’t count. But Harry…you’ll have to work on Harry. Make him see you.”

“How?”

“Be yourself,” she said simply.

“That’s easier said than done. He won’t even look.”

“Ginny–“

“No, Mum. I shouldn’t waste my time on a boy who’s never even looked at me and I’m not going to anymore.”

“You can’t just turn your feelings off,” she insisted.

“I know that, but I can put them aside and with time, they’ll go away and I’ll forget all about Harry and date other boys.”

“With time, things can change,” she agreed with a nod. “Harry can change too, but Ginny, I’ll say it again…make Harry see you and then, he’ll look at you differently.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Of course it does,” she said brightly. “Boys are dumb when they have a pretty girl right there in front of them. We have to chase them until they catch us.”

A tiny grin crinkled the corner of mouth. “Is that how you got Dad?”

“Something like that,” she answered vaguely. “Just because Harry has a lot on his shoulders for a boy who’s almost fifteen, doesn’t mean he’s an expert where girls are concerned. I promise you, Ginny, be yourself and include yourself more into their conversations. Make him see–“

“Me,” she finished.

“Exactly.” She stood up, leaned over and planted a kiss in the middle of Ginny’s head. “I’ll be getting dinner ready then. Want to help?”

“Yeah,” she said, scooting off the bed, but her gaze fell on the roll of parchment on her small desk. “Give me five minutes?”

“Sure,” said Mum, closing the door.

Ginny unrolled the parchment and re-read the letter she’d received yesterday. She picked up a quill, loaded the tip with emerald ink that sparkled in the candlelight and began her response to the Ravenclaw boy in her year.

Dear Michael,

It’s great to hear from you…



Fin


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