Harry Potter and the Return to the Riddle House

Chapter Eight

The First Match

A few weeks later, however, things took a turn for the worse, although practice was not as hard as he thought it would be (Katie and Rachel gave him advice if he asked and he found a good book in the library full of strategies). It was a Friday in mid-October, the night before their first match of the season; against Slytherin, of course. Harry was at dinner reading the Daily Prophet he had missed that morning, featuring one of Minister Thedon's more sensible new policies (he was already much better than Fudge), a Muggle in Aberdeen who reportedly saw the Dark Mark (were there had been a possible battle), and the arrest of a small group of supposed Death Eaters (probably minor; Harry didn't recognize the names), when Professor McGonagall tapped him on the shoulder.

"Yes, Professor?"

"Potter, Dumbledore would like to see you in his office after dinner; he will be waiting outside the entrance," she said, but was already making her way to the staff table before Harry could ask her anything. He exchanged slightly concerned looks with Ron, Hermione and Rachel, and finished his dinner quickly. As he walked down the corridor leading to the Headmaster's office, he saw him, indeed, waiting for him beside the shining oak doors and an ugly gargoyle. He looked serious.

"Step into my office for a moment, would you please, Harry?"

He muttered something to the gargoyle, which leapt aside. Harry mounted the ascending steps with growing dread. Had something happened?

Dumbledore motioned for Harry to sit in a comfortable-looking chair across from his desk, and pointed his wand at the empty fireplace, where roaring flames sprang out of nowhere. Harry stroked Fawkes the phoenix once and sat down, facing Dumbledore. He saw something in the corner, draped in black fabric, but focused his attention on the headmaster as he began speaking.

"Harry, you must see how complete Voldemort's return has been. Every day, there is another battle, another arrest, and, much to often, another death," he said. "We are truly at war again."

Harry said nothing. He had been noticing.

"It is always essential that you be safe, of course. You are at the Dursley's, and at Number Twelve, and here at Hogwarts, but not as much as you should be. I am referring, of course, to Occlumency. It is my wish that you continue your studies on Thursday evenings with Professor Snape--"

"What?" Harry exclaimed. "Not again, Professor, I-- my scar doesn't even ache so much anymore..."

Which was true. Dumbledore remained calm, but held his hand up gently.

"Harry, I understand what you're going to say, but I ask only to let me finish..."

But Harry couldn't let this happen, he was not going to do that again.

"But Professor, he knows all about the connection now, and he'd know I wouldn't fall for that again, not after..." he stopped. Dammit. Now Sirius would be in his mind all evening. Harry put his face in his hands. He enjoyed losing himself in the ordinary so much...

"Harry, that's what we thought also; that's why I didn't bring it up until now, but we don't know. It's far too much of a gamble, and anyway, he might be able to see your end soon as well. You need to do this, Harry, for everybody's safety."

Harry couldn't help seeing that it was true-- but he hated Occlumency with Snape.

"Why can't you teach me, then? Snape--"

"Harry, I've told you how dangerous it would be to open your mind so much around me," Dumbledore interrupted. "And I've spoken with Severus." Harry snorted. Like that would make any difference.

"Harry. Look at me."

Harry reluctantly met Dumbledore's pale blue eyes.

"You need to do this, Harry. Sirius would have wanted it, he always wanted you to be safe. You need to do this for yourself... for the Order... for Ron and Hermione.... You need to do it for me." He paused.

"And for Sirius."

Harry sat in his chair for a few long moments, staring at his hands.

"Fine," he muttered grudgingly. Then Harry just wanted to leave, so Dumbledore let him. He walked alone to the Gryffindor common room, only allowing himself to think about how to do his homework around his Occlumency lessons on Thursday nights and Quidditch on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. He supposed he really didn't need free time... Harry entered the common room and told Ron, Hermione, and Rachel about the lessons in a corner. Harry knew they could see something was wrong, besides Occlumency, but then he told Ron and Rachel to go to bed now and get plenty of sleep for their first match before they could speak much. He knew that Rachel knew a small bit about the past year, and he and Ron and Hermione told her all about their early years at Hogwarts; she found them extremely exciting. He was not sure how much she would understand, but truthfully, he didn't care much just then. Harry climbed up the stairs and into his four-poster. He slid under his covers and concentrated on the game tomorrow, but weaving in between visualizations of formations and musings about tactics were images of his godfather, and aching memories of how Voldemort had used Harry's weakness to eventually cause Sirius' death... and Harry resentfully decided he had to give Occlumency his best.

***

Harry woke early the next morning and went down to breakfast alone. He found Hailey Morgan, Katie Bell, and Rachel eating toast and talking lightly. Hailey was quietest; Harry realized that this was her first ever match. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile and sat next to Rachel, checking the enchanted ceiling for a clue to the weather. He wondered vaguely why he was the only male at the table; did girls always get up this early? But fortunately Ron turned up a few minutes later with a group of early risers, and before long the entire team was assembled. After everybody had eaten a little, Harry led them to the field. It was pleasantly cool, with a grayish cloud ceiling but occasional chilly winds. Fairly good conditions. When Harry had his robes on, he went to the middle of the locker rooms, where the boys' dressing room meets the girls', and saw Rachel sitting on the bench.

"Nervous?" he asked her.

"Oh, a little," she replied with a slight smile. "But we've really gotten our moves down in practice, I think we'll do fine. I feel sorry for Hailey, though... it's her first ever match. Do you remember how sick you felt right before your first game?"

Harry smiled and nodded, he could remember the feeling well. There was a pause as he tried to think of something to say.

"Do you know if your--" Harry stopped, horrified. He nearly said 'Do you know if your father will be watching?'-- he was as comfortable with Rachel as he was with Ron and Hermione, so he almost let it slip. She was looking at him expectantly.

"--your... brother will come to Hogwarts when he gets old enough?" He mentally winced, would it be painful to think about Ian? But Rachel just gave him a slightly confused look and said,

"Yeah, probably."

Thankfully for Harry, Katie, Ginny and Hailey filed in, then, a few seconds later, Ron and Jack. Harry realized they must be expecting a pep talk, but he had no idea what to say.

"Okay," he began uncertainly. "Er-- well, it's almost time to begin, and I know you're nervous... just play like you've been training; we know all this.... Most of you have been flying for years..." Harry glanced around, completely at a loss. "We can, um..."

"Kick some Slytherin ass?" Rachel chimed in helpfully.

There was a small, surprised pause.

"Well, yes," Harry said.

"Make them go crawling home?" Katie suggested with a wicked smile.

A bit of laughter echoed in the room.

"Fight like lions!" cheered Hailey.

"Uh... scare them out of the air... roaring?"

"Just stick to your goalposts, Ron..."

"Go Gryffindor!"

"Alright!" Harry said. "Let's go, they're calling us!"

For Lee Jordan, a seventh year who always acted as commentator, was roaring into the magical megaphone,

"AND HERE COME THE GRYFFINDORS! Captain Potter, Weasley, Connor, Morgan, Weasley again, Sloper, and Bell!"

Stimulated and excited by the cheers of the crowd, Harry strode onto the field facing the Slytherins, who were jeering. Madame Hooch made Harry shake hands with their captain, Montague. Harry continued the proud tradition of trying to crack his fingers. On Madame Hooch's whistle, they kicked off and burst into the air.

"AND THERE THEY GO! Bell gets the Quaffle, passes to Weasley, she's getting down the field-- no! Montague has the Quaffle, and he's-- whoa, Connor swoops out of nowhere and takes it right back, Pucey goes at her but misses, new Chaser Nott also missed her there, she's at the goal, face to face with Bletchley... SCORE for Gryffindor!"

Harry, who had been circling the field in search of the Snitch, paused and looked over his shoulder. They had scored already?

"Just luck, Potty!" yelled Malfoy as he sped past him, riffling his hair with his tailwind. He was promptly smacked hard in the shoulder by one of Morgan's Bludgers. Harry laughed and kept circling in the air, listening to Lee's commentary.

"And Pucey with the Quaffle, Pucey going to Weasley, ooh, narrow miss by a Bludger, better luck next time, Sloper, and Bell gets-- oh, no, almost got the Quaffle, Pucey passes to Warrington, going to the goal... YES! Weasley saved it, no more singing this year..."

Harry weaved in between the mass of green and red, searching for a metallic glint. Rachel had the Quaffle, within minutes, she had scored again. She was fascinating to watch, but Harry had to keep looking for the Snitch, and keeping an eye on Malfoy in case he looked like he had seen it.

"Connor has the Quaffle again, Nott getting in her face, Rachel, spit on him!-- I'm joking, Professor McGonagall-- and she passes to Bell, Bell going to sc-- oop, no, passes to Weasley, Montague intercepts and speeds down that field.... Ooh, Bludger right in the chest, and he drops it, but Pucey caught it, Pucey with the Quaffle, save, Ron! ... argh, Slytherin score, ten-twenty to Gryffindor..."

The game continued for another quarter of an hour; Rachel was all over the field, getting quite on the Slytherins' nerves. She, Katie, and Ginny scored three more times, and Ron pulled off a spectacular save, smacking the Quaffle like a volleyball right into his sister's hands, but the Slytherins scored twice more, making the tally thirty-fifty. Harry had not even glimpsed the Snitch; but he saw Warrington speeding down the field like a bullet, and watched him pass to Montague at the last second, who was far to the right, on Ron's unguarded left hoop. Before Ron could turn around, he scored, and a few minutes later, managed to put the Quaffle through again, tying the game. The Slytherin section was cheering deafeningly, but the Gryffindors were far from giving up. Rachel had the Quaffle; she passed it to Ginny, who was behind and to her left, in a textbook Hawkshead formation. She passed it to Katie, narrowly missing Nott, Katie shot it to Rachel, and suddenly, Pucey and Warrington were pelting toward her, she could never dodge them both... but she did! Lee was going wild; Rachel had swerved and tilted on her side so sharply that Harry gasped, she was going straight for the goal... The stadium was rather quiet, Lee shouting excitedly.

"Passed to Bell, back to Connor, back to Bell, back to Connor, back to Be-- no! I don't believe it, she scored, best feint I've ever seen! If any of you blinked and missed it, Connor just scored, extremely tough tiebreaker goal just there..."

The Gryffindor section was going wild. Ginny gave Rachel a high-five in midair, and Keeper Bletchley looked furious. He wasn't the only one; Crabbe and Goyle were soaring behind Rachel, their Beater's bats raised.

"Look out!" Harry yelled, but it was too late, a Bludger hit her squarely in the small of the back; she slid forward on her broom and Goyle smacked the bat itself across the back of her shoulders. Rachel was falling through the air; she landed from twenty feet off the ground on her feet, collapsed, rolled a few times from the impact, and lay still. Harry shot to the ground like a bullet; he landed by her side before Madam Hooch even, and crouched next to her.

"Are you okay?" he asked urgently.

"I'm fine," she gasped. "I'm alright, I'm alright."

But Harry was the only one who could hear her; she still wasn't moving, and Lee was sounding concerned. Malfoy was soaring around, looking for the Snitch undisturbed. By the time Madam Hooch reached them, Rachel was stirring. She sat up shakily, Harry heard relived cheers from the crowd and Lee, who had been shouting insults at Crabbe and Goyle, said "Oh, and she's okay... YOU CHEATING, SNEAKING LITTLE..."

Rachel was rubbing her ankles but insisting that she was fine, just winded, and held her hand out for her broomstick. She stood gingerly and persisted that sore ankles would not stop her from flying, since she didn't use them on a broom anyway. Finally, she was pronounced able to play again by Madam Hooch, who blew her whistle for a penalty to Goyle, for hitting her with the bat. Rachel took the Quaffle for the first one and rose into the air alongside Harry. She hovered in front of the goals, but Harry noticed Malfoy, speeding towards the ground with a look of triumph on his face. He had seen the Snitch, and dove the moment play was resumed. Harry saw the tiny gold ball, and rocketed toward it; he was closer than Malfoy, his arm was outstretched... he grabbed wildly and felt Malfoy's fingers locked under his, they both had it; Harry gave a fierce tug and put his arm triumphantly in the air-- he had wretched it away from him. The stadium exploded with surprised cheers, Malfoy cursed loudly and threw his broom down, and Harry's team landed around him, cheering and celebrating. As they made their way to the castle, Harry heard Malfoy yelling at Crabbe and Goyle. He supposed he was just sour after the match, but from the occasional odd phrase he caught, it sounded like he was ranting at them for hitting Rachel.... Harry was confused. Malfoy probably just didn't want them getting themselves in detention and missing a match, or something like that...

In the common room a few minutes later, Rachel and Harry were both congratulated and slapped on the back so much they ached, but Harry wanted to get back to his homework now that his Thursdays were taken as well, and Rachel kept insisting that Katie and Ginny did just as well as she did and trying to slip away to a quiet corner. After everybody had settled down a bit, Harry got to work on his essay for Transfiguration, and a few people drifted from lunch. By the time he was in the middle of his Defense Against the Dark Arts homework, most people were coming back from dinner. Katie was chatting happily with Ginny and Hailey, Ron was shuffling through his Chocolate Frog cards, and it sounded like Hermione was trying to recruit some of the first years into S.P.E.W. She was working on Rachel when Harry finished his weekly notes on his Panaeolus; he heard,
"Well... I don't know if you noticed, but, um... the initials spell spew, Hermione..." and got back to his next assignment, grinning.
He had decided to do his work for the entire week, so when he finally finished with his last essay (History of Magic, since it made him so sleepy), he looked up and, at first glance, appeared to be alone. But then he saw that Rachel had fallen asleep in front of the fire, curled up in an armchair with her Herbology book. He supposed he should wake her, so he packed his work, walked over to her, and sat on a pouf next to her chair. He did not know why he paused, but she looked quite peaceful in her seat; maybe he would only annoy her by waking her up.... He watched her for a bit; her skin was glowing from the fire, and her long, dark eyelashes were curled against each other. He suddenly felt very odd, his heart was pumping a bit faster than normal, and he felt... he couldn't name it, there was a sort of raw, open, urgent feeling about his chest area. It was extremely strange. A wisp of hair fell into her face, she frowned and turned in her sleep, it was tickling her. Harry hesitated, and pushed it back gently, his fingertips brushing her skin. Then it was like something in the back of his mind woke up. What was he doing, why was he feeling like this, it was Rachel... he jostled her shoulder gently. She opened her eyes and looked confused for a second, then smiled at him.

"What time is it?" she whispered, stretching her back a little.

"About midnight," Harry murmured back. "I thought you would want to go upstairs..."

"Thanks," she said, and yawned. "I was just researching a little for Herbert."

"Who's Herbert?"

"My Panaeolus," she said. "He's getting pretty big, two inches across. Very pretty shade of blue."

Harry stared at her for a few seconds, she looked back with an expression of complete sincerity. Then she grinned, and they both started laughing.

"Ian always gave his 'friends' cute little names. My favorite was Zeus the hamster, or maybe Bernard the teddy bear..." She showed him the photograph she had been using as a bookmark. She was about fourteen or fifteen, holding a younger Ian in a diaper, with a tuft of brown hair and a soft, cuddly-looking bear. Chris was behind her, with an arm around her shoulder. They were all smiling and laughing happily; behind them was a beautiful bluish mountain outline and green wilderness.

"That was where we always went camping," she said softly, her grin fading. Then, abruptly, "I'm sorry, you must be tired, you don't want to look at old pictures..."

"It's okay," Harry said, she looked a little depressed, but then smiled at him again. She said goodnight and went up the stairs to her room, but Harry stayed in front of the fire for a long time, looking at the landing where she had left.

Chapter Nine

Occlumency Again

That Thursday, Harry hurried to down to Hagrid's hut; he was late. He slid in between Ron and Hermione, standing in front of the entrance to the Forbidden Forest, feeling slightly wary. Not again... He exchanged looks with Ron and Hermione. This was never good.

"Don' look so worried!" Hagrid said, grinning at a Hufflepuff who looked extremely suspicious. "We're just lookin' for some augureys..."

They walked around the edge of the forest, stopping at the paddock were Harry had first ridden Buckbeak.

"Now wai' here," Hagrid said, and disappeared into the trees. A few moments later, he came into view again with a large, black bird on his arm. It looked like a scrawny dark vulture, but fairly harmless, for Hagrid's usual standards.

"Now, this here is an augurey, or Irish Phoenix. There's pretty interestin' legend around 'em, people used to think their calls men' death--" He was cut off by a long, throbbing cry from the bird.

"Oh, there ya go! Anyway, not too long ago, all of you would have thought you were done for, hearin' that, but now, we know that it's jes' gonna rain tonight," he said, moving a bit closer to the class.

"You can look at 'im, but he's shy, so don' get too close just yet. Who can tell me what augureys eat?"

To nobody's surprise, Hermione's hand was first in the air. Hagrid smiled and nodded to her.

"Large insects and fairies, but some like Doxies."

"Good, take five points fer Gryffindor," he said. "Now augureys are shy, like I said, they usually on'y fly in the rain...

Harry spent most of the lesson taking notes. Near the end, Hagrid allowed them to pet the augurey one by one. When he came towards Hermione, she whispered,

"Hagrid, how's your... your little brother?"

Hagrid chuckled.

"Now, ya don' need to worry 'bout that, alright, he's doin' fine; manners improve'n er'y day. Ya oughta come visit 'im, he liked you..."

Hermione moved on rather quickly. Harry reached out his hand to pet the augurey and it hit the one of the person next to him. He turned to apologize.

It was Cho Chang.

Harry felt a leap in his stomach, but it was out of embarrassment. Cho had gone out with him once, it was probably the worst date of both their lives. There was an uncomfortable pause, and she muttered something and turned to leave. Harry sort of nodded awkwardly and walked off to Ron, Hermione, and Rachel.

"Who was that? Ow!" Rachel asked, as Hermione elbowed her in the ribs.

"We went out before, that's all," Harry said. Rachel looked embarrassed, too.

"Oh... I... I'm sorry..."

Harry shrugged. He realized he didn't really feel anything for Cho anymore, and it was strange to think he used to get so flustered around her.

"So... so you don't think there'll be anything else with, um... with you two?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"No," Harry said, with a truthful little shrug. "I don't."

"C'mon, mate, one bad date and a couple rows doesn't mean anything," Ron said.

"Ron, Harry said he doesn't, can't you just leave it at that?" Hermione snapped at him.

"What, I was only saying..." the rest of Ron's words were drowned out by the warning bell.

"He might like somebody else, he might not be sure, and he probably doesn't want to talk about it!"

"Hey!" Harry said indignantly. "I'm right here..."

A few slightly stony minutes later, they walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and took their seats. Lupin called roll and said when he had the class's attention,

"Today we're going to begin our main unit on curses, countercurses, and protective charms. I know you've already seen the Unforgivable Curses performed, if you were here two years ago, so I'll instead be showing you normal hexes and their defenses. This first one is really quite basic, you might not be able to do it straight away, but a little practice and you'll have it. It's called the Disillusionment Charm, and I'll need a volunteer."

He looked around the class, and called,

"Neville, could you help me, please?"

Neville looked surprised, but came and stood with Lupin with the determined expression that was common for him lately.

"Now, Neville, I want you to simply stand here; I'm going to cast the charm on myself, then on you, alright?"

Neville nodded.

"Now class, watch carefully," Lupin said, facing the desks once more. "To cast the charm on yourself, you need to place your wand above the very center top of your head, like so, and envision yourself melting away, your outline blurring into the background. Then, tap your head sharply."

He closed his eyes for a second, then struck his own head with his wand. He promptly disappeared. There were yells around the room, then Lupin's voice came from around the blackboard.

"Now, look closely in front of my desk. I am not exactly invisible; you might want to think of a chameleon. If I move around too much, or also if I am very still, you should be able to see me, barely." Harry concentrated on the spot, and suddenly he could see a faint outline of his teacher. Lupin walked around the students, sliding his hand over each desktop slowly for them to see, and then went back to the front of the room.

"Now, it's even easier to undo the spell, just visualize yourself clearly, like in a mirror, and tap yourself again."

He was suddenly standing before their eyes.

"To cast this charm on another person or animal, rap them lightly on the same place while visualizing them dimming away, just like when you cast it on yourself... ready, Neville?"

Neville nodded and closed his eyes, Lupin tapped his head and Neville was gone. He let him look at himself and wander around a bit, and then showed the class how to bring him back. Then he passed out rats for them to work on. Harry Disillusioned his murkily by the third try, better on the fourth, and perfectly on the fifth. Neville's rat was camouflaged by his seventh try, better than many people. Lupin said they would do themselves next time and gave them a light assignment (one roll of parchment on identifying and describing situations where Disillusionment was normally used) and sent them off to lunch.

That evening, the rain that Hagrid's augurey had predicted was falling in sheets, and Harry was walking miserably down the corridor leading to Snape's dungeon. He felt odd, he wanted to learn Occlumency, to protect, well-- everyone, so Voldemort wouldn't be able to lure him away again. But he hated Snape, and the lessons were always torture last year. And (Harry's stomach hurt every time he thought of this) what if Snape saw Harry leaning against the barrier at Grimmauld Place, under his Invisibility Cloak, watching him see Rachel for the first time? What if he learned how he, Harry, felt about Snape's daughter?

For Harry had realized, warily, that he must feel something for Rachel: he caught himself staring at her more and more often, watching her laughing with her friends, or taking notes with her purple quill, or writing one of her long letters to Chris and Ian, who were back in Kenmare. His stomach was beginning to do familiar acrobatics when she spoke to him, especially when she smiled. Oh no, was all that going to start again? Was he going to start acting oddly or embarrassingly around her? Did he already? And what if somebody else noticed; Hermione had said last year that she knew he liked Cho for 'ages'-- was he that transparent?

Harry's anxious musings were brought to an end as he found himself standing in front of the door to Snape's dungeon. He took a deep breath, opened the door, and strode to the office across from him. Snape opened it as Harry was about to knock.

"Come in, Potter," he said. "What did you tell everyone you were doing?"

"I said I was going to the library," Harry said, noticing the Pensieve on a shelf behind him. "As it wouldn't make sense for me to go to Remedial Potions anymore, now that I'm in the N.E.W.T. class..."

"That will do for tonight, but in the future, say you are doing extra credit work, and be vague, do you understand?"

"Yes," Harry said. Snape shut the door behind him, continuing to speak shortly. He looked very annoyed.

"You know everything you need to continue tonight. You have done all this before. There is nothing else to teach you; all you can do is practice. Do you remember what to do?"

"Yes," Harry said again.

"Then stand in front of the desk."

Harry braced himself, Snape steadied his wand in Harry's face. He fought not to panic, he tried to empty himself as Snape instructed. Snape paused for an instant and said, " "Legilimens!"

Harry expected to see his own memories flash in front of him, he saw bits of an episode where Dudley had sat on him to make him give up the television remote, but in between these were flashes of another scene-- a hook-nosed man who Harry barely recognized was shouting in his face, an empty bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey in his left hand and his right hand slamming hard into his cheek.

"PROTEGO!"

Snape's Shield Charm burst into his chest, throwing him backward.

"Have you been practicing over the summer, Potter?" Snape's brow was furrowed, he looked puzzled.

"No," said Harry. "Why did I throw you off so quickly? Sir?" he added hastily.

Snape was silent for a second, and then said quietly,

"I don't know, perhaps our endless hours last year made some difference, but it is still not good enough. How many times do I have to tell you, empty yourself of emotion, I want you to be able to stop me from even entering."

Harry tried again and again for the next hour, each go, thrusting Snape out of his mind sooner. He forced himself not to feel; he wasn't angry at Snape, he wasn't nervous about Rachel... he had plenty of practice last summer, trying to get Sirius out of his thoughts. It was hard, but Harry simply wouldn't let himself remember Rachel or Snape or Voldemort... or anyone... he didn't know who they were; he brought no image to his mind to connect to them. They were just names.... Finally, an hour later, Snape pointed his wand at Harry, who took a deep breath. An indiscernible scrap of somebody's face, possibly Uncle Vernon's, was visible for a split second, then, nothing. Harry began to sweat, he felt nothing, he felt nothing.... He was pushing Snape away... he was empty...

"Potter."

Harry opened his eyes. Snape had lifted the curse, and he didn't even feel it. A wave of triumph swept through him.

"No! Even now, you cannot feel anything!"

Harry knew that was impossible, but what did he care; he was alright just practicing.

Snape finally looked satisfied with his efforts.

"Very well. You will empty yourself like this every night before sleeping. I will speak to the headmaster about further lessons, you simply need polishing. You may go."

Harry went back to Gryffindor Tower exhausted but elated, and told Ron, Hermione and Rachel all about his lesson.

"You shut him completely out?" Hermione said, deeply impressed. "Wow, that's... amazing..."

Harry went to bed listening to the rain and the wind. He thought about Rachel and Sirius until he was too tired to feel anything, then cleared himself of emotion, trying as hard as he could, and fell asleep.