The Final Reckoning

Chapter Twelve: The Unwelcome Guest

'You can't be serious,' Ron said indignantly, still glaring at Malfoy.

'Ron, I'm afraid it can't be helped,' Mr. Weasley said, holding up a placating arm.

'Oh, come on!' Ron protested. 'I thought he was in protective custody!'

'With his father out of prison, the Ministry and Dumbledore felt it necessary to move Draco to another location,' said Lupin evenly.

'So they move him here?' Harry finally blurted out. 'He's the son of a bloody Death Eater and you bring him here?'

'This is a bad idea,' Draco muttered. The scared, haunted look on his face was being replaced by one of annoyance and that familiar hubris.

'Damn right it is,' Ron growled.

'Ron!' Mrs. Weasley and Hermione both said.

'What?' said Ron defensively. 'How do we know he's not still working for them, anyway?'

'Weasley, you idiot, I helped get you out of the Riddle House!' Draco snapped.

'That's only after your dad gave you up to die with the rest of us!' Ron shouted.

'He was there with the other Death Eaters,' Harry spat.

'I'm not a bloody Death Eater!' Draco yelled.

'You watch your mouth, young man--' Mrs. Weasley began.

'Oh, yeah?' Ron challenged, advancing on him. 'Let's have a look at your forearm, then.'

'Ron, honestly!' said Mrs. Weasley impatiently.

'You want to see my arm, Weasley?' Draco growled, and he yanked up the right sleeve of his shirt. 'There. Have a good look.'

Branded on his pale flesh was the Dark Mark.

'Oh...dear,' said Mrs. Weasley, horrified.

Ron glared at Draco. 'Thought so,' he said.

'Oh, please,' Draco said, rolling his eyes. 'I'm not the first person with a Dark Mark who's no longer helping out the Dark Lord.'

'Professor Lupin, isn't there anyplace else--' Hermione said timidly.

'He can't stay here,' said Harry angrily. 'No way.'

'Harry, it's not permanent,' said Lupin. 'But Dumbledore has to decide--'

'Well, bugger Dumbledore!' Harry yelled.

'Harry!' Mrs. Weasley gasped.

'No, dammit!' Harry stormed. 'It's my bloody birthday today, okay? And instead of hanging out at the Burrow and, oh, I dunno, having a good time I had to go to bloody court to testify against his psycho father. Only it turns out Psycho Dad got away because some idiots at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement let him slip away. Then we have to come here to this...ruddy house...which is the last place on earth I want to be and this...this...piece of scum is here to--'

'Harry, that's enough!' Lupin shouted, his voice so loud everyone jumped. 'I know this has been a hell of a day for you, but you're not the only one who's having a difficult time of it.'

'I don't need a werewolf to defend me,' Draco snapped, glowering at Lupin.

'Shut up, Draco,' Lupin barked. 'This situation is not ideal. But it is the only solution we can come up with on such short notice.'

'This is bullshit,' said Draco, and he started to stalk toward the door. There was no trace of the cowering boy who'd been in the witness chair earlier that day. 'I'm out of here.'

'You're not going anywhere,' Lupin snapped.

Draco gave a hollow, bitter laugh and turned. 'Oh, really? And I suppose you're going to stop me?'

'You're staying here, Draco,' said Lupin evenly. 'Whether you or anyone else likes it or not.'

'I'm seventeen,' Draco sneered. 'You can't tell me what to do.'

'He's right, Remus,' said Arthur Weasley calmly. 'He is of age.'

Draco smirked. 'Well...it's about time there was one Weasley who had a bit of sense.'

'Piss off, Malfoy,' Ron snarled.

'Ron!' Mrs. Weasley hissed, through gritted teeth.

'Go ahead, Draco,' Mr. Weasley said. 'You're free to leave whenever you want. I'm sure you'll be just fine on your own. Without a wand.'

Draco froze and swallowed.

'I can buy new one,' he said defiantly.

'With what, your charm?' said Lupin dryly. 'You're forgetting that the Ministry, along with the cooperation of the dozen or so banks your father put his money in, has frozen all his assets, including every last bit of cash.'

'That's not true,' said Draco angrily. 'Dad always keeps a stash of Galleons in the house, somewhere the Ministry can't find it...'

'Well, if you'd like to go to Malfoy Mansion be our guest,' said Mr. Weasley genially. 'You understand, we can't spare any Aurors to guard you when you go.'

'You don't know what you're talking about,' Draco snarled.

'I'm afraid I do,' said Mr. Weasley lightly. 'You see, Draco, the only reason you're not rotting in a cell right now is because you agreed to testify against your father. Unfortunately for you, that's put you at risk, and it is the unpleasant job of the Ministry to ensure your safety. As such, you have a choice. You can stay here, under the guard of a dozen experienced, highly trained Aurors who will put their very lives on the line for you, or you can walk out of here and fend for yourself, all alone, with no money and no place to stay. Just remember, You-Know-Who is out there and the last time you were in his company he tried to have you killed.'

Draco swallowed again; his nostrils were flared and his pale, gaunt face was flushed with anger. He glowered at Harry and Ron, then at Hermione, before his eyes fell on Ginny. Ginny glared at him with glittering brown eyes.

'I'll stay,' he said, smirking at Ginny.

'Fine, it's settled,' said Mr. Weasley firmly. 'I have to get back to the office. Remus is meeting with Dumbledore shortly. Molly...I hate to ask, but...'

Mrs. Weasley sighed and shook her head. 'I know. This house is a mess again. We'll clean it up.'

'Great,' Ron mumbled sarcastically; Harry rolled his eyes in agreement. Some birthday this was turning out to be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It didn't seem possible, but the day went downhill from there. Doxies had taken up residence, with a vengeance, in the many rooms of the house that had been designated as storage space for the Order. Boxes and crates lined the dust-filled rooms; Harry wondered what all this stuff could possibly be, but when Ron tried to ask Mrs. Weasley cut him off with a stern look.

As bad as ridding the rooms of doxies was, it didn't compare to Draco Malfoy, who balked at the very idea of doing anything remotely related to housework.

'You're mad,' he said when Mrs. Weasley handed him a bottle of Doxicide. 'This is servants' stuff, for god's sake.'

'Oh, please,' Ginny muttered.

'We're short of servants here, Draco,' said Mrs. Weasley crisply. 'I'm afraid you'll just have to get your hands dirty.'

'No way,' said Draco angrily. 'I'm not doing shit. I didn't ask to be here, you can't make me do any bloody chores.'

'Fine,' said Mrs. Weasley. 'Don't do anything. You can forget about having any meals, then.'

'What?'

'See, Malfoy,' said Ron, his voice dripping with scorn, 'around here, people earn their keep, and Mum doesn't go cooking for layabouts.'

'This isn't fair,' Draco said, in as whiny a voice as Harry had ever heard him use; Harry tried not to smile.

'Life isn't fair,' said Mrs. Weasley coldly. 'You'll do your bit or you won't eat. And another thing: you'll clean up your language right now, or I'll wash your filthy mouth out with soap. Understood?'

'You wouldn't dare,' Draco said defiantly, even as the colour drained from his cheeks.

'Watch me,' said Mrs. Weasley, tapping her wand against her thigh.

Draco's pale face went red again, and he snatched the bottle of Doxicide from Mrs. Weasley's hand.

'Fine,' he said.

'Good,' said Mrs. Weasley. 'Now, pay attention. Doxies can and do bite if you're not careful...'

For a half hour, they went at the doxies; it would have been in silence but for the constant, indignant mutterings of Draco. Harry couldn't make out all that he said but he was sure he caught the words 'slave 'labour' and 'bloody Weasleys' and 'nasty bitch.'

Draco's mutterings turned to a scream, however, when a doxy slipped past a squirt of Doxicide and bit him soundly on the hand. He yelled and danced about, shaking his hand and squealing theatrically, until Mrs. Weasley gave him a dose of antidote. Draco tried to use the doxy bite as an excuse to skive off any further work, but Mrs. Weasley wasn't having it. This prompted more muttering from Draco, nearly all of it derisive to Mrs. Weasley.

By the time dinner rolled around, everyone's moods were near the breaking point. Mrs. Weasley ordered everyone to help with preparing the meal.

Harry didn't mind helping with cooking; it beat getting rid of doxies by a mile. Ron offered to prepare the roast potatoes and the vegetables, and for once, Mrs. Weasley happily delegated part of the cooking to her youngest son. Hermione, Ginny, Harry and Draco were charged with chopping vegetables.

'What?' said Draco, appalled. 'Bad enough I'm reduced to kitchen help here. But you want me doing it the Mudblood way?'

Ron was on him in an instant.

'What did you just say?' he growled, holding Draco's shirt by the collar and practically lifted him off the ground.

'Ron,' said Hermione, shaking her head.

'Get off me,' Draco wheezed; Ron's huge hand gripping his collar was cutting of his air supply.'

'Ron, put him down, for heaven's sake,' Mrs. Weasley snapped.

'You heard what he said, Mum!' Ron protested, not letting go of Draco.

'Yes, I did,' said Mrs. Weasley. 'But the last thing I need is my son going to prison for choking somebody to death!'

'Fine,' said Ron, and he let go of Draco roughly, giving him a shrug. Draco coughed and glowered at Ron, then at Mrs. Weasley.

'Draco, as long as you are under this roof, that word will not be tolerated,' said Mrs. Weasley. 'Now, why don't you set the table? I assume you know how to do that.'

'Whatever,' said Draco haughtily, and he set about doing so, muttering to himself all the while.

Half-hour later, the table was set; Draco insisted on setting the table as formally as possible. Which meant that each place setting had a shrimp fork, a salad fork, a dinner fork, a dessert spoon, a tea spoon, a fish knife, a steak knife, a water goblet, a wine glass, a bread plate, a salad plate, a soup bowl, a dinner plate, and beneath that, a charger.

'What the hell is all this for?' Ron demanded.

'This is a how a proper table looks, Weasley,' said Draco, sneering. 'Not that you'd know anything about fine dining.'

'It's lovely, Draco,' said Mrs. Weasley, her voice falsely cheerful. 'I'm not sure why you'd want to make so much extra work for yourself later, but--'

'What do you mean?' Draco interrupted.

'When you're doing dishes,' said Mrs. Weasley. 'Quite a lot of dishes to wash, of course...'

Draco put away everything but the dinner plates, the steak knives, the water goblets, and the forks.

An hour after that, dinner was served. Tonks showed up, along with Lupin, Mr. Weasley, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Bill and the twins. Harry couldn't be positive, but he was pretty sure that the presence of the twins--and their repeated smug, nasty looks--was what caused Draco's nasty attitude to go into hiding during the meal. He said almost nothing during the whole of dinner.

This didn't stop him from glancing at Ginny, frequently. Harry watched Ginny as well, and noticed that she seemed to be trying to avoid looking at Draco at all. The one time she did meet Draco's gaze, she looked away quickly.

What the hell is that all about? Harry wondered irritably. Ron was sitting at the opposite end of the table, talking animatedly with Bill about something or other. Ron seemed to be making a point of ignoring Draco, and in so doing, he didn't notice the other boy looking at Ginny.

The meal ended sometime later; Ginny quickly retreated from the kitchen and headed upstairs. Harry watched her go, and then noticed Draco doing the same. Draco met Harry's gaze and he sneered before Mrs. Weasley tapped him on the shoulder and pointed at the sink. Draco rolled his eyes and began to clear the table. The twins volunteered to help, and Harry bit back a laugh as Draco nearly dropped a plate in response. Mrs. Weasley gave the twins a warning look and they smiled sweetly, first at their mother, then at Draco, who blanched. Harry would have stuck around to watch the twins torment Draco, but Ron tugged on his arm.

'What?' Harry asked.

'Birthday presents, you idiot,' said Ron. 'Might as well enjoy something about today.'

Harry trooped upstairs and into the room he and Ron shared to find their trunks, and something else. A cot had been set up in the room. Hermione and Ginny were already there; Hermione glanced nervously at the cot, then at the boys.

'It looks like you...have another roommate,' she said.

'Oh, no,' Ron groaned. 'Mum can't be serious. Letting Ratboy sleep in here? What about one of the spare rooms? This bloody house is huge, it's got a ton of them--'

'All the spare rooms are being used for storage, remember?' said Hermione.

'Wonderful,' said Harry. 'How much more fun could we have today?'

'Let's give Harry his presents before he hurts himself,' said Ginny, chuckling.

From Ron, Harry got a full measure of Honeydukes' sweets; the twins bought him a supply of Weasley's Wily Writer; Hermione gave him a new schoolbag embroidered with the Gryffindor lion; and Ginny handed him a badge, also in the shape of the Gryffindor lion, with the words 'Quidditch Captain' emblazoned across it; beneath was a tiny replica of his Firebolt.

'You can pin it to your Quidditch robes,' she said, shrugging.

'It's brilliant,' said Harry, grinning. 'Thanks.'

His good mood at receiving birthday gifts didn't last. Not long after Lupin appeared with Draco. Draco scowled and went to flop down on his cot.

'Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny,' he said, nodding to them. 'Are you all okay?'

'Fine,' they all mumbled, glaring at Draco.

'I've been downstairs talking things over with Arthur,' said Lupin. 'About what happened today. The Ministry has a good theory as to how Lucius Malfoy escaped.'

'Polyjuice Potion,' said Hermione at once. 'The man in the courtroom, when he transformed back to himself; that's exactly what happens when Polyjuice Potion wears off.'

'That's right, Hermione,' said Lupin, looking impressed. He wasn't the only one.

'What's the Ministry's theory?' Hermione asked, taking a seat on Ron's bed. Harry noticed the tips of Ron's ears go slightly pink.

'I'm more interested in hearing yours, actually,' said Lupin. 'Maybe you've caught something that the Ministry missed.'

'Okay,' said Hermione, looking very pleased. 'I think Miss Rosier helped Malfoy get out. I think they used the same scheme that Barty Crouch used when his wife and son switched places. Only in Miss Rosier's case, she wasn't the substitute for Malfoy. How could she be? She needed to go to court. And she's a Death Eater, too--it makes no sense for her to take Malfoy's place in prison, because Voldemort would still be out a Death Eater. And who else is going to volunteer to take Malfoy's place in prison? Nobody's going to do that. So I think Miss Rosier found herself a victim--that homeless man we saw. She used the Imperius Curse on him. She took a bit of his hair, and a bit of Malfoy's, prepared some Polyjuice Potion, took the homeless man with her to the prison this morning to visit Malfoy. Malfoy took the potion with the homeless man's hair in it, and the homeless man drank the potion with Malfoy's hair in it, and they switched. Malfoy left on his own, and Miss Rosier stayed with the homeless man in order to make sure the Polyjuice Potion didn't wear off; she probably gave him another dose of it before court this morning, just to be safe, and to give Malfoy enough time to get far away before anyone was the wiser.'

Everyone but Lupin gaped at Hermione.

'That's basically the Ministry's theory,' said Lupin. 'The homeless man is a Muggle, by the way. No family to speak of. But I'm afraid the Ministry would say you're wrong about Miss Rosier.'

'Why?' said Hermione, looking a bit affronted.

'She submitted to interrogation under Veritaserum,' said Lupin. 'They asked her repeatedly if she had any involvement in Malfoy's escape, and she said no.'

'That doesn't necessarily mean she wasn't involved,' Hermione protested. 'Maybe she's figured out how to fight the effects of Veritaserum.'

'That's a possibility,' said Lupin. 'But the Ministry's potion is a hundred times stronger than the potion you brew in your Potions lessons. The Ministry is hard pressed to believe that she could have resisted what they gave her.'

'So...they let her go?' said Hermione, aghast.

'What choice did they have?' said Lupin. 'She had nothing to tell them in her interrogation.'

'That's not on,' said Ron. 'She's a Death Eater. I know she is--'

'Dumbledore told me what you saw, Ron,' said Lupin carefully, casting a glance at Draco, who was glaring up at the ceiling as he lay flat on his back on the bed. 'And the Ministry of course has its suspicions. Not only because of her family history--'

'So she is related to that Death Eater Rosier who got killed,' Harry interrupted.

'She's his daughter,' said Lupin.

'All the more reason for her to be a Death Eater,' said Ron firmly. 'She'd want to avenge her dad, wouldn't she?'

'I'd say so,' said Lupin. 'But Helene Rosier is nothing if not very smart. If she is a Death Eater she's kept it very well hidden. She's publicly denounced her father on numerous occasions, and even after spending years under surveillance by the Ministry, there's no whiff of suspicion where she's concerned. Well, apart from the fact that she tends to represent unsavoury clients.'

At this Draco snorted and sat up.

'You're joking, right?' he said angrily. 'I told the bloody prosecutor I remembered seeing her at a meeting last year; she's a Death Eater--'

'The only evidence, Draco, that Helene Rosier is a Death Eater is your testimony that you might have seen her very briefly at one meeting last year,' said Lupin evenly. 'Considering that Miss Rosier has been conspicuously absent from every event that you and Harry place your father, considering that thus far you are the only person to claim to have seen her, in the flesh, at a Death Eater function--and you can't even be sure the woman you saw was her--there is no evidence to arrest her.'

'What about what my mum told me?' Draco retorted. 'She knew Dad was having it off with that slag, she caught them going at it once--'

'Which proves that your father was unfaithful to his wife,' said Lupin, 'and that both he and his attorney engaged in unethical--not illegal--behaviour. Your testimony against Miss Rosier; what Ron saw...none of it is enough. The only thing the Ministry can do is continue to tail her and see if they can catch her in a mistake, or doing something illegal. For what it's worth I'm quite positive Miss Rosier is a Death Eater. But my word, my own beliefs, count for little at the Ministry. But clearly Voldemort has different ideas for her--she doesn't seem to be one of his foot soldiers. I'm guessing her role is strictly covert, which is why she's been able to cover her tracks so well.'

'Who else could have helped Malfoy escape, though?' said Hermione impatiently. 'It has to be Miss Rosier! How many people would openly associate with Malfoy? And the prison guards at Azkaban--they're not stupid. They're not going to let just anyone in. She must have disguised the homeless man, made him a co-counsel of hers or...or a relative of Malfoy's or something. Whatever it was, I'm guessing she took him to the prison more than once, and she had a whole back story prepared to fool the guards--'

'Hermione, I agree with you,' said Lupin, holding up a hand. 'But like I said, there's no evidence to lock up Miss Rosier. Not right now.'

'Couldn't Dumbledore say something?' said Harry.

'He has,' said Lupin. 'But Dumbledore's word, however valued by Madam Bones, isn't enough for the Chief Prosecutor to arrest Miss Rosier.'

'Then what's the bloody point of the Ministry, anyway?' Ron seethed. 'If they can't lock up criminals--'

'Ron, it's not that simple,' said Lupin patiently. 'There are rules and procedures to be followed, and those rules and procedures are not arbitrary. They're put in place for a reason - to protect the innocent from being wrongfully accused.'

'Yes, those procedures worked so well for Sirius,' Harry snarled.

There was a brief silence; Lupin's eyes were stricken as he said, 'I never said the system was perfect.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours later, Harry lay on his bed in the dark of the bedroom he shared with Ron, and now Draco. Draco had moved his cot far away from Ron's and Harry's beds, so that it was near the door to the bedroom.

'I'm not going to subject myself to Weasel and Potty odours all night,' he'd said, at which Harry had rolled his eyes and muttered 'Sod you' and Ron had given Draco a rude hand gesture.

Now, Ron was fast asleep, his hand thrust beneath his pillow--no doubt clutching his wand. Draco, too, appeared to be asleep.

Harry, however, was wide-awake. It was more than just the disappointment of a rotten birthday keeping him up, he knew. After all, bad birthdays were not anything new for him. No, it was everything. Seeing Susan in court, with another bloke.

It hurt to think about, especially considering the way Susan had broken things off, telling Harry that she still loved him but that she couldn't be with him because he was...Harry.

Yeah, she really loved you. So much that it only took her a month to find somebody else.

And then there was this house. It had never been a happy place, but at least, occasionally, he'd had a good time here, with Sirius. Harry shuddered; Sirius had hated this house, but his presence was still in it, in spite of everything. Harry suddenly wondered if Buckbeak was still holed up on the third floor somewhere. He didn't recall hearing any scratching of claws across the wood floors, but then, he hadn't been exactly listening for that, either.

At last Harry felt exhaustion steal over him; his eyes grew heavy and tired and he pulled off his glasses and set them on the table next to his bed. He felt himself dropping off when he heard a moan coming from Draco's bed.

Great. If it's not Ron talking in his sleep it's this prat. I really ought to get myself some earplugs.

'I can't...' Draco whimpered. 'Father...don't...'

Harry turned his head toward Draco's bed; even though Harry's eyes were blurred without his glasses, he could tell the blond boy was tossing and turning.

'I'm your son...' Draco muttered, and there was a hitch in his voice.

Harry watched Draco for a long moment, debating what to do.

Should I wake him?

Are you mad? You don't feel sorry for him again, do you?

Yeah, actually, I do. I hate that.

Leave him be. He deserves to have a few nightmares, after everything he's done.

That's true. But...he's keeping me awake!

Just as Harry was about to get up and go wake Draco, Draco fell still and silent; his dream, apparently, was over. Harry let out a breath of relief and closed his eyes, feeling sleep come over him again; in less than a minute, he was asleep.

Almost at once, he was awake again. But he wasn't at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. He was somewhere else, in a room with a huge fireplace. Even though it was summer, there was a fire roaring. He was sitting in a chair, staring at the flames, feeling oddly satisfied about something. He stood up and winced. His whole body was sore and felt tender, as though he'd exercised hard the day before. He looked in the mirror and red, slitted eyes stared back at him, and a lipless mouth smiled. At that moment, the door behind him opened, and two people entered, both of them dressed in black robes, with hoods on their heads.

Harry turned, and the feeling of satisfaction increased.

'My lord,' said one of the robed figures. A woman, who spoke with a low, elegant voice. She knelt before him and removed her hood, revealing dark hair and pale, creamy skin. 'I've brought him.'

The other robed figure knelt down in a position more prostrate than the one the woman had taken.

'My lord,' said the man, in a voice as low and elegant as the woman's.

'Rise,' said Harry, his voice oddly thin and high-pitched. 'Reveal yourself.'

The man stood and pulled back his hood, revealing sleek, long blond hair and glittering, cold grey eyes.

'My lord,' he said again, nodding.

'Welcome back, Lucius.'

CRACK!

Harry gasped and sat up in bed; his scar was throbbing, burning. The pain made his eyes water. He rubbed furiously at his scar and blinked; everything was blurry. He grabbed his glasses and put them on, trying to get his bearings.

The dream. He'd dreamed of Voldemort. Only this time, he was Voldemort. He saw everything as though he were inside Voldemort's body. Which could only mean one thing...

He's fully recovered. Enough to get inside your mind and make you see things as he sees them. Before, in that other dream, you were watching. This time, you were him...

'No,' Harry whispered. He went through every detail of the dream. The woman - she must be Miss Rosier. And Lucius Malfoy...he was back in Voldemort's service. And then, a loud crack. Someone Apparating, or Disapparating?

Harry whipped his head toward Draco's bed and felt his stomach plummet. It was empty.

Oh, shit. Where the hell is he?

Harry leapt out of bed and nearly stumbled to the floor as new pain in his scar tore through him. He gritted his teeth and pushed past the pain, grabbing his wand from beneath his pillow and walking unsteadily toward the bathroom.

Don't panic, Potter. Malfoy could have just gotten up to have a pee. That crack you heard was probably just a part of your dream...

Except that the bathroom door was open, and the room itself was empty.

Shit, shit, shit. Somebody just Apparated, I know it. And now Draco, the stupid prat, he's not in his bed...

But this place has to have anti-Apparition wards. It has to...

Harry winced as another stab of pain shot through his scar, and he stumbled over to Ron's bed.

'Ron!' he hissed, poking his best mate in the shoulder. 'Ron, wake up!'

'Mmm, 'Mione...' Ron mumbled, chuckling and rolling over onto his stomach.

Oh, for god's sake...

'RON!' Harry snapped, punching Ron hard in the arm. 'WAKE UP!'

'What!?' Ron yelled, sitting up. 'Jesus, Harry, what the hell are you doing? Thanks a lot, I was having a really good dream--'

'Malfoy's gone,' Harry interrupted, not wanting to hear one word about Ron's sex dream.

'What?' said Ron, and he glanced over at Malfoy's bed. Ron rolled his eyes.

'For god's sake, Harry, the stupid git probably had to pee,' he said.

'He's not in the loo,' Harry snapped. 'Listen to me. I just had a dream, I was Voldemort and I was sitting in a room somewhere and Miss Rosier showed up. With Lucius Malfoy.'

'Shit,' said Ron, running a hand through his hair. 'But what does that have to do with--'

'I heard a crack,' said Harry. 'Someone Apparated, I think. But I don't know if it was in my dream.'

'You mean--'

'Think about it,' said Harry.

'Harry, this place probably has a hundred Anti-Apparition wards on it,' Ron protested, but even as he said this, he was sitting up and reaching for his wand.

'Probably,' said Harry, 'but then you explain why Malfoy isn't here.'

'I don't know!' said Ron irritably. 'He's probably skulking about the house--this place probably reminds him of home. Maybe he's talking to Mrs. Black's portrait--they're related and she'd probably love him.'

'I'm looking for him,' Harry snapped. 'Are you coming with me or not--'

At that moment there was a soft but firm knock on the door.

Harry and Ron exchanged glances and held out their wands.

'If it was a Death Eater he wouldn't knock,' Ron pointed out. 'On the other hand--'

'We'll keep our wands up,' Harry agreed. He cleared his throat and called out softly, 'Come in.'

The door opened and Hermione hurried in, wearing a dressing gown and carrying her wand. She looked pale and agitated.

'Hermione?' said Harry and Ron together.

'Ginny's not in her bed,' she said at once. 'I woke up to use the loo and her bed's empty.'

'What?' said Harry and Ron together.

'I didn't hear her get up!' Hermione said desperately.

'Shit!' said Ron. 'Malfoy's gone, and now Ginny--'

'Malfoy's gone?' said Hermione. 'What do you mean?'

'Harry had a dream about Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy and he said he heard a cracking noise, like someone had Apparated--' Ron said.

'Surely there are wards up that prevent Apparating from outside!' said Hermione.

'Maybe someone found a way around that,' said Ron. 'Wards aren't foolproof, remember!'

'I know that, Ron--' Hermione began heatedly.

'Knock it off, both of you!' Harry groaned. 'Look, for all we know, Malfoy went to snog Mrs. Black's portrait and Ginny's in the kitchen having a cup of tea. Or maybe Malfoy went up to harass Buckbeak and Buckbeak ate him--'

'I wish,' Ron grumbled.

'--but before we go losing our heads,' said Harry, 'why don't we start looking for them?'

'Right,' said Ron at once. 'Good idea.'

'And if anything looks off, we raise the alarm, agreed?' said Harry. 'I'd rather not wake up Mrs. Black and the whole house if we don't have to.'

'Agreed,' said Hermione at once, and the three of them exited the boys' room and went out into the corridor.

'Should we split up, d'you think?' Harry suggested.

'Good idea,' said Ron. 'I'll take the third floor and the attic. Hermione, you keep to this floor. Harry--'

'I'll do downstairs and the kitchen,' Harry said at once.

'If anything happens, make noise and wake up Mrs. Black,' said Ron, looking at Hermione with concern. 'Unless...you want me to stay with you, Hermione...'

'No, we'll cover ground more quickly if we all split up,' said Hermione firmly, giving Ron a look. He nodded.

'I'm off, then,' he said, starting down the corridor toward the stairs leading to the third floor.

'See you, soon,' said Harry to Hermione. 'Be careful.'

'You, too,' said Hermione, looking nervous but determined.

Harry hurried quickly down the corridor, careful to keep his footsteps light along the creaking floor. His scar was still burning dully but with the adrenaline flowing through him now, he hardly noticed the pain.

He reached the first floor landing.

'Lumos,' he whispered, and his wand tip glowed. He quickly scanned the foyer, the parlour, and the great room, his eyes skipping over dark corners, but he found nothing. His ears strained for any and all sounds.

And then he heard it. A low hum that rose and fell. Like a voice. It was wafting up from the staircase leading down to the kitchen.

Harry raced to the stairs, his bare feet hardly touching the floor; he moved carefully past the curtains covering the Black family portraits and came to the door to the kitchen steps. It was shut.

He tried the doorknob and it opened with a soft click; he padded quietly down the stairs and the voice became louder.

No, the voices.

Harry came to the kitchen door and pressed his ear to it, at that moment wishing for Extendable Ears. But almost once, he could make out the two voices. One male, one female.

Draco Malfoy, and Ginny Weasley.

'Leave me alone, Draco.' Ginny's voice was steely and furious.

'I can't,' said Draco, and his voice sent a chill down Harry's spine. It was cold, but also...needy. 'Don't you get it, Weasley? I need--'

'I'm not doing it!' Ginny snapped. 'I never should have the first time, they warned me about--'

'Ginny, please,' said Draco harshly, and now he sounded almost desperate. 'I can't stand it. You have to help me!'

'I said no!' said Ginny furiously, and Harry heard the faint brush of her footsteps on the kitchen floor as she started to move. But then there were other footsteps, faster ones, and Ginny let out a yelp.

'Let go of me!'

'I can't do that, Ginny,' said Draco, and his voice changed yet again. Still a note of desperation, but also of finality. 'You have something that I need, and you're not leaving until I get it.'

Harry felt his stomach swoop. He reached for the doorknob and tried to turn it; it wouldn't budge. The door was locked. Harry pointed his wand at the doorknob.

'Alohomora!' he whispered. Nothing happened.

'Don't,' Ginny said, and now her voice was pleading, and scared. 'Draco, please...stop!'

Harry tried another Unlocking Charm. It didn't work. He was starting to panic. Maybe he should raise the alarm.

'Hold still!' Draco yelled, and Harry heard them struggling.

'You're hurting me!' Ginny pleaded.

Dear god. Ginny...

There was no time to run upstairs and fetch help. Draco was about to rape Ginny. Fury rushed through Harry's blood and before he really knew what he was doing he flung himself with all his strength against the kitchen door. He didn't feel any pain as his shoulder slammed into the hardwood and the door flew open.

Harry stumbled just in time to see Draco gripping Ginny tightly against him; one of his arms was round her waist, pinning her right arm to her side and holding her still; he clutched her wand. Draco's other hand clutched Ginny's wrist and had her hand pressed to the side of his face. He whipped his head round at the disturbance, and Ginny acted. Her frightened face became a mask of fury as she brought her knee up, slamming Malfoy so hard in the groin that even Harry winced as Malfoy gave a kind of agonized wheeze; he let go of her and his knees buckled. But Ginny didn't stop there; she pushed Malfoy away from her and brought her right fist back, only to swing it round and slam Malfoy hard in the nose, knocking him off his feet. Ginny's wand flew out of his hand.

Harry blinked and recovered himself and stormed over to the crumpled form of Draco Malfoy, who was coughing now, his nose bleeding; he looked like he wanted to throw up. Harry yanked Draco up by his t-shirt and dragged him away from Ginny before slamming him soundly against the wall.

'What do you think you're doing?' he snarled, pointing his wand at Draco's throat.

'Sod...you...Potter...' Malfoy gasped. Harry slammed him against the wall again, harder, leaving a dent. Draco groaned and his head lolled to one side.

'You touch her again and I'll hurt you,' he growled. 'Badly.'

'I wasn't...hurting her,' Draco gasped, as he looked at Ginny. 'Ginny...'

Harry's fist buried itself in the other Malfoy's stomach. Malfoy gasped and coughed and doubled over, but Harry yanked him up again as Ginny bent to retrieve her wand.

'That's not what I heard, you sick bastard,' he growled, and he raised his wand, fully prepared to hex the blond boy within an inch of his life.

At that moment, Ron and Hermione burst into the kitchen. Harry turned to see Ginny give a sob and Hermione rush to her and take the other girl in her arms; Ron's face went red with fury as his eyes fell on Draco.

'You bloody bastard...' Ron growled, and in two strides he was in Draco's face, yanking him out of Harry's grasp and lifting him off the ground by the collar of his t-shirt.

'Ron!' Hermione hissed.

'What the hell were you doing to my sister?' Ron snarled, squeezing the other boy by the throat. Draco began to wheeze.

'Ron, let him down!' Hermione pleaded.

'Ron...' Harry said nervously, his own fury receding just slightly. It was one thing to hex Draco. It was another thing to actually kill him, but Ron's fury was absolute, and terrifying.

'Ron, don't!' Ginny cried, pulling herself from Hermione's embrace. 'I'm fine! I swear.'

'Ron!' Harry snapped, and Ron grunted and let go of Draco roughly; the other boy fell to the floor in a heap. He gave a groan and passed out.

'Somebody had better tell me what the hell is going on,' Ron rasped, clenching his fists. Harry gulped. Ron wasn't given to displays of temper all that often anymore, but when it did happen, it was a job talking him down from it.

Damn Weasley temper. Or is it just a redhead thing?

'Ron, calm down!' Hermione hissed.

'Don't tell me to calm down!' Ron retorted.

'Ron, please!' Ginny begged. 'You're not helping!'

Ron started to protest, but at that moment Ginny crossed the room and grabbed her older brother's arm with her small hand.

'Calm down,' she said slowly, in a very firm voice, and she closed her eyes for a moment. Ron gaped at her for a moment and shuddered slightly, but the fury in his face relaxed a bit, as did the tension in his shoulders. Ginny bit her lip and looked, for a moment, to be in pain, no, as if she were furious, but then she let go of Ron and her face, too, relaxed.

Harry watched all this in awe.

'Are you going to listen to me?' she asked, gazing steadily at her brother.

'What did you just do?' Ron whispered.

'Ginny...' Hermione breathed, and it was she alone who seemed to have some idea of what had just happened.

Naturally, Harry thought.

'I calmed you down,' said Ginny evenly.

'Yeah, I noticed,' said Ron. 'But how?'

'Ginny, are you--' Hermione began.

'Yes,' said Ginny, and then she shook her head. 'It's complicated.'

'I'll say,' said Ron. 'D'you mind explaining what you're talking about, or are you going to keep using this girl code of yours?'

'Ron, honestly,' said Hermione, shaking her head.

'I can't tell you,' said Ginny firmly.

'You just told Hermione!' Ron protested.

'I didn't, she figured it out on her own,' said Ginny pointedly.

'Oh, sure, split hairs, why don't you?' said Ron, throwing up his hands. 'Ginny--'

'I can't tell you, Ron,' she said firmly. 'Dumbledore asked me to keep it quiet, and I'm going to honour that. I'm sorry.'

'Fine,' said Ron, folding his arms across his chest. 'I'll just ask Hermione.'

'I'm not telling you, Ron!' said Hermione quickly. 'Not if Dumbledore wants it to be a secret!'

'Hermione!' said Ron angrily.

'Ron, she's right,' said Ginny. 'Look, this isn't fun for me, okay? I don't like keeping secrets from my friends.'

'Ginny,' said Ron, clearly struggling to stay calm, 'you're my sister, okay. And...I love you and you're...you're starting to scare me a bit here. Can't you please just tell me?'

She looked at him sadly, and then at Harry, who was still trying to figure out just what was going on. Ginny clearly had some kind of power, a power that didn't require the use of a wand, a power that she could use simply by touching somebody else. But what was it?

'I can't,' said Ginny.

Ron gave a frustrated snort and threw up his hands again.

'Ginny...' Harry began.

'Look,' Ginny said quickly. 'I can't tell you but...that doesn't mean you can't figure it out on your own. Without,' she added quickly, when Ron and Harry looked at Hermione, 'Hermione's help.'

'Oh, well, that's good,' Ron said sarcastically.

'You can do it, Ron,' said Ginny. 'You just have to exercise your brain a bit.'

'Ha ha,' said Ron, sounding disgruntled, but also resigned. Then he looked very serious. 'Gin, just...please tell me you're okay and that Malfoy didn't hurt you because if he did--'

'He didn't,' Ginny said quickly, and she shot Harry a pointed look when he started to protest.

'If I catch him bothering you again,' said Ron, 'I'm not kidding, Gin, I'll hurt him.'

'Ron,' Hermione groaned.

'Or I'll tell Dad,' Ron said quickly.

'You don't have to do that,' said Ginny. 'He won't bother me anymore.'

Well, she's probably got that right. Poor bastard won't be able to walk tomorrow, at least.

Ron eyed her sceptically for a moment, and then nodded. 'Okay,' he said. Then he let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. 'I'm knackered. Let's turn in, yeah?'

'Yes, let's,' said Hermione, yawning.

'I'm going to have a cup of tea,' said Ginny. 'That's what I doing when Malfoy interrupted me. Stupid prat.'

'What about Malfoy?' said Harry, looking over at Malfoy's crumpled form on the floor. The blond boy groaned and rolled onto his back, clutching his groin.

'We could lock him in Kreacher's old pantry,' Ron suggested.

'Ron,' said Hermione.

'Fine, we'll take him upstairs,' said Ron, rolling his eyes. 'Harry, a hand?'

He glanced at Ginny, who looked at Malfoy and then back at the teapot she was filling with herbs.

'I'll have a cup of tea with Ginny,' Harry said, not wanting to leave her alone.

Ron cast glances at Harry and Ginny, looking at them with narrowed eyes, and then shrugged. 'Suit yourselves,' he said. He pointed his wand at Malfoy and said 'Mobilicorpus.' Draco's prone body was levitated off the ground and came to float in a standing position. He groaned again.

'Wake up, arsehole,' said Ron (Hermione rolled her eyes). 'Time for bed.'

'Eat...dung...Weasley...' Malfoy grunted, and then he groaned again and his hands moved to his crotch. His nose was now coated and crusted in dried blood.

'Jesus, Harry, what'd you do to him?' Ron asked.

'That wasn't me, mate,' said Harry. 'That was Ginny.'

'No kidding?' said Ron, grinning. 'Crotch and nose?'

'Just like you taught me,' said Ginny, smiling archly at him.

'Well, at least I'm good for something,' Ron said, shrugging.

'You've never taught me how to fight,' said Hermione indignantly.

'You never said you wanted to learn,' Ron said. 'I'll teach you if you want.'

'Tomorrow,' said Hermione. 'Come on.'

The two of them exchanged a look, and in the next moment, Ron, Hermione, and a very beat up Draco Malfoy were heading out of the kitchen and back upstairs.

'I've got a Galleon says Ron and Hermione dump Draco in your room and go screw around in mine,' said Ginny, as she turned on the burner for the tea kettle.

'Let's take our time, then, shall we?' said Harry, screwing up his face.

'Is it just me or are those two like rabbits?' said Ginny, shaking her head.

'It's not just you,' said Harry. 'When I woke Ron up to go looking for Draco, he was talking in his sleep again. And it wasn't about Potions, either.'

'Eww, Harry, that's my brother,' said Ginny, shuddering.

'Sorry,' said Harry. She smiled and turned back to the cabinet to fetch mugs; she pulled out two and set them down, and Harry suddenly noticed her trembling.

'Ginny,' Harry said. 'Hey.' He felt his feet move toward her and he put a hand on her shoulder.

She looked up at him; her eyes were shiny with unshed tears.

'Thanks,' she said weakly. 'For...for rescuing me again.'

Harry blushed. 'I didn't do too much,' he said, looking down.

'Yeah, you did,' said Ginny. 'You distracted him.' A tear slipped down her cheek.

Quick! Say something to cheer her up.

That's right, can't have another female crying all over you, Potter.

No, I just...it hurts to see her cry, okay?

'Yeah, well,' said Harry, 'either way Malfoy's going to be limping tomorrow.'

She laughed and gave a hearty sniff, then moved to wipe her face and winced and grabbed her right hand, the knuckles of which Harry noticed were swollen and bleeding.

'Let me see,' said Harry, taking her hand in his. 'Pretty good right hook you've got, too. You learned that--'

'From Ron, yeah,' said Ginny, sniffing again. 'He never mentioned the part where it hurts to punch someone, though.'

Harry grinned and turned on the tap. 'You should clean that up. Don't want to get infected with Malfoy germs.'

'Perish the thought,' said Ginny, giving a wry grin as she stuck her hand under the cool water. She winced again.

'Stings,' she muttered. 'The way it's swelling my hand'll be bigger than Ron's by tomorrow. Do you know a good Healing Charm?'

'I'll get some ice for that,' said Harry. 'I'm shite with Healing Charms.'

He fetched some ice from the icebox and wrapped a handful in a clean dishtowel, then returned to her and pressed it lightly against her knuckles.

'Ow,' she whimpered, but she let him apply the ice, and for a long moment they were silent as Harry pressed the compress to her swollen hand.

'Are you okay?' he asked, his voice low and serious.

'I will be,' said Ginny, shrugging.

'Ginny, can I ask you something?' Harry said tentatively.

'Maybe,' she said, smiling sadly.

'I know you can't tell us about...well, whatever it is that you can do,' said Harry. 'But...is that why Malfoy came after you tonight? Because of...whatever it is that you have?'

'Yeah,' said Ginny, and her voice shook slightly.

Harry watched her carefully for a moment. 'You take people's pain away,' he said. 'When you touch them.'

Ginny said nothing, but Harry knew he was right, and he pressed on. 'But when you do it,' he said, 'it...it hurts you somehow. That's why...that's why you struggled with Malfoy.'

After a long moment, Ginny nodded, and then her shoulders began to shake; she was crying.

'Ginny,' said Harry, feeling at a loss. He put his hands on her shoulders.

'I'm so stupid,' she whispered miserably. 'That bastard got my wand. I left my wand on my bed and he must have taken it. I can't believe I was so stupid--'

'Wait a minute,' said Harry at once. 'You're not going to blame yourself for what that arsehole did--'

'I should know better,' Ginny protested, shaking her head. 'He never bugs me unless he knows I don't have my wand--'

'Wait a minute,' said Harry, something horrible dawning on him. 'Are you saying this isn't the first time he's hassled you?'

Ginny bit her lip, looking as though she hadn't meant to let that fact slip out.

'Ginny,' said Harry firmly.

'It's only been a few times,' she finally said.

'How long has this been going on?' Harry demanded.

'Since last year,' said Ginny, sounding tired. 'Like I said, it was only a couple of times, okay? He...he approached me in the library once and pulled me into a corner in the back and...and tried stuff. I didn't have my wand but I got away because I managed to knock a few books over and brought Madam Pince running. And...there was this one time, after a Quidditch match. He tried to corner me in the tent--'

'And you haven't said anything?' said Harry, incredulous.

'I thought I could handle it, okay?' said Ginny hotly. 'And I was handling it. After that second time I took my wand everywhere and I was careful never to let myself go around alone. Only tonight I...I forgot...I wouldn't have forgotten if I hadn't had that stupid nightmare...'

'Nightmare?' said Harry, his heart sinking. 'You had a nightmare about Riddle again.'

'Yeah, about--' Ginny stopped and looked at him, and her shoulders sagged a bit. 'Your scar hurt again, didn't it?'

'I dreamt about Voldemort,' said Harry. 'I...I was Voldemort. I was inside his body again. I saw Lucius Malfoy come back, he was with that Rosier woman.'

'Did you tell Ron and Hermione?' Ginny asked.

'Not yet,' said Harry. 'I...I saw Draco's bed was empty and we went looking for him and that's when I found you. I...it didn't even occur to me that you could have had another nightmare. That's three times, Gin. What does it mean?'

'I dunno,' she whispered. 'Some summer this has been. Some birthday you're having.'

'It's after midnight,' said Harry, shrugging. 'My birthday's over.'

Ginny's eyes filled with tears again.

'Hey,' said Harry.

She shook her head. 'I just...when Malfoy was grabbing me, and he had my wand...it was just like Tom all over again...I had no control at all, it was him taking over and...and making me do things...'

Her voice trailed off and she began to cry softly. He did the only thing he really knew to do, and pulled her into an embrace. She cried for a while, and he let her; maybe now he'd finally figured how to deal with a crying girl: just let her do it for a while, until she gets it out of her system.

After a while, Ginny's sobs subsided. She pulled back slightly and looked up at Harry.

'I'm sorry I keep crying all over you,' she said, blushing. 'I'm not usually such a mess.'

'We're all a bit of a mess. Don't worry about it,' said Harry. 'Are you...going to be okay?'

'Eventually,' said Ginny. 'I just...I don't ever want to be in that place again, you know? Where someone else is controlling my will. You know what I mean?'

'Yeah, I do,' said Harry.

She gazed up at him. 'Yeah, you would, wouldn't you?'

Harry swallowed; he was suddenly looking into her eyes, which were dark in the dimly lit kitchen. Dark and soft. And he suddenly noticed she was standing very close to him, and that his hands were still on her shoulders. She smelled of vanilla and her hair was tangled and flowing over her shoulders, brushing his fingers, and it was so very soft. In his peripheral vision he saw the rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed.

Oh, bugger. This is not good. Why is she looking at you like that? Let go of her shoulders, you idiot! Oh, god, those breasts are magnificent...stop looking at them!

He started to lower his hands from her shoulders, but then she did something that made all the blood in his body race south. She slid her hands up his chest and placed them on either side of his face.

'Ginny,' he said, swallowing hard again. She was lifting her head up, gazing at his lips.

What are you doing?

What is she doing?

Harry was lost. His head suddenly seemed to weigh a hundred pounds as he tilted forward, his lips seeking hers. He could feel her breath on him as she grew closer. Her lips were an inch away...

At that moment a loud whistling broke the silence and Harry and Ginny jerked apart. It was the teakettle.

'Tea,' Harry choked.

'Right,' said Ginny. Her face was flushed and she quickly turned off the burner. She set about making tea, and they drank it in the quiet of the kitchen, without talking much. There was a frisson of nervousness between them now, and Harry hated it, but at the same time, he was terrified to say anything.

You almost kissed her. She almost kissed you.

And then he felt her take his hand in hers and lace her fingers with his. The same way she'd done in the kitchen at the Burrow. He looked at her and something passed between them. Something comforting. Was she doing...that? Using her power, whatever it was, to make him feel better? Except that there was no telltale sign of distress on her face. He only knew that he felt better. And more confused.

A little while later they headed back upstairs, both of them yawning tiredly. Harry walked Ginny to her door and she opened it slowly, peeking her head inside; Ron was not there, and Ginny breathed a sigh of relief. Then she turned to Harry and kissed him softly on the cheek, and went quickly inside her room. Harry stood outside her door for a good several minutes afterward, thoroughly perplexed.

Ginny is my friend. A good friend.

You almost kissed her.

I'm lonely and horny, remember?

True. But is that the only reason?

I DON'T KNOW! I like her. She's really cool. She's...well, bloody hell, she's beautiful, isn't she? How did I not notice that before?

You were with Susan before.

Ah ha! See? There. I'm not with Susan anymore, so I'm noticing other girls again. It IS the lonely horny thing.

If that's all it is, why do you want to be around her for more than just a snog?

Because we're friends! Bloody hell, shut up, already! I'm tired!

Harry returned to his room, in a daze. He opened the door to find Ron sprawled out in bed again. Draco was on his cot, curled up in a foetal position.

Harry sat down heavily on his bed and took off his glasses and lay back on the bed.

'Hey.'

Harry started and whirled round to see the form of Ron propped up on his elbows. Harry was immediately grateful for the darkness that hid his rapidly reddening face.

'Hey,' he managed.

'Ginny okay?' Ron asked.

'Yeah, she's fine,' said Harry.

She cried on my shoulder and tried to kiss me, but otherwise she's fine.

'She didn't freak out or anything?' said Ron. 'She wasn't upset?'

'She was upset,' said Harry, 'but, er, we talked and she was fine after that.'

'You talked,' said Ron. 'What'd you talk about?'

'Nothing,' said Harry at once, and then he felt his mouth still talking even as his brain tried to catch up. 'Well, obviously we didn't talk about nothing. We talked about, er, what had just happened and...she hurt her hand a bit punching Malfoy and I got her some ice...I'm no good with Healing Charms...and we had tea and that was it. Nothing more than that.'

Ron said nothing for a long moment, but Harry could feel his best mate's eyes on him.

'Right,' Ron finally said. 'Well, g'night.'

'G'night,' Harry said, and in the darkness he saw the long form of Ron lie back on his bed and turn over on his side. Harry lay down slowly on his own bed, his heart pounding. It wasn't until he heard steady breathing from Ron's bed that Harry felt himself relax a bit.

Close one. Good thing it's dark or Ron would have known you were bullshitting him.

I can't believe she tried to kiss me.

You tried to kiss her, too, don't forget.

He heard a whimper from Draco's bed and felt a scowl cross his own face.

The way that prat had gone after Ginny, trying to force her to use her special powers, whatever the hell they were, to help him. When doing so hurt Ginny.

Harry was just lying back on his bed when something clunked in his brain. He glared over at Draco's bed again as he remembered that Ginny had told him Draco had gone after her a few times before, last year.

For the same reason he'd gone after her tonight. To force her to use her power, to force her to help him. How long, then, had Ginny had this special ability? If it was so vital, according to Dumbledore, that her ability be kept a secret, how on earth had Draco found out about it? And why had he kept it a secret, even when he was working with the Death Eaters? Why hadn't he said something when they were all at the Riddle House, before his father turned on him?

Harry glanced over at Draco, who whimpered again softly in his sleep. The questions swirling in Harry's mind continued their buzzing even as he let sleep mercifully take him. The last thing he remembered was that he had never figured out if that loud crack he'd heard earlier, the sound that had awakened had been real, or part of his dream.