He looked up into her beetle black eyes. Every plane on her face was cut in sharp angles not unlike a diamond. Even her nose which should have been a simple slope of a triangle, was faceted into many surfaces.

The curse was an interesting one. For a moment, the green light startled Harry, and he expected the worst. But it wasn't what he thought. Harry had never seen the like before, but instinct carried him through and he had blocked it, but barely. The result was a brief loss of consciousness. A fatal error for anyone but Harry Potter. He must not have been out long. He had barely struck the earth, in fact, when he awoke and rolled under the bushes, pointing his wand forward in defense.

Stupify! he cast nonverbally, but she was no longer standing there. The twigs scratched his face but he managed to push himself through to the other side. He cast a shield about him, and it was a good thing, since she seemed to favour creeping up behind him, something Voldemort never did.

Harry whipped around and aimed his wand at her heart. "Wait!" she cried, holding up a hand.

He wondered if he could cast an Unforgivable nonverbally at her, as he had never been able to cast them properly anyway. Even after his trebled magic it was something quite beyond his reach. Too much Love in one's life, he supposed.

Harry hesitated. "Why should I wait?" But by the look on her face, he knew she had already won a small victory. The bad part about being a good guy, he mused, was that you always let the villain say their piece. But the bad part of villains was that they always talked too much.

"I have been anxious to meet you," she said, her words slipping gently off her tongue, the sibilants lasting a little longer. It reminded him of Parseltongue. With an unwarranted shiver, he knew he was the last human on the planet who could speak it.

She was wearing a long gown-like robe. Her hand was at her hip, relaxed, and she tapped an unnaturally long fingernail on her wide leather belt. Her form was slim and willowy. She did not look powerful, but powerful witches and wizards seldom did. He didn't think he looked particularly powerful. Perhaps that was an asset, though he reckoned she wouldn't be fooled.

"Say your peace, then."

"Tell me, Mr. Potter. Just how powerful are you?"

"'Fraid you'll have to just take my word for it. I have no intention of proving it. So if that's all-"

"Of course it is not all. You are most gracious in giving me a moment to speak."

Blimey, here it comes. The threats. The 'too bad you were so kind to me, as I have no intention of doing the same for you.' Blah, blah, blah.

A small frown formed at the corner of her mouth. Uh oh. Was she Legilimizing him? Dammit!

"Stop it!" he said, and waved his wand, building what he hoped was an effective mind shield.

She smiled at it. "Impressive. Weak, but impressive nonetheless." She cocked her head. "I thought somehow you would be taller."

"Yeah, well. You can't judge a book, you know. Are you done stalling yet?"

"Yes, I am quite done. Quite done."

And then she Disapparated.

Harry was waiting for that. He had cast a tailing charm while they were chatting. The magical trail remained and he Disapparated after her, Apparating onto a village green in some other small site in Britain. He didn't recognize this place either, but she wasn't there. The trail moved on and Harry Disapparated again, appearing once more in a place he didn't recognize, an alleyway this time. But the trail remained and he followed it, Disapparating and Apparating in place after place.

Finally, Harry Apparated…and found himself hovering briefly over the dark of an ocean. "Oh shit!" He flailed his arms but gravity took over and he plunged in.

The salt water enveloped his head and he waved his arms, wishing for a bit of gillyweed about now as the saltwater invaded his nose and mouth with stinging cold. He struggled upward, trying to find the surface in the dark. Fortunately, his wand was still in his hand. He Disapparated…or tried to. But he found with a sudden stab of fear that he couldn't. It was very cold and he was soon shaking violently. He tried a warming charm but it didn't completely work either. What was going on here?

He bobbed with the water for a bit, searching the horizon for anything familiar. He rose with the crests but could see no shoreline, nothing to indicate that a shoreline was nearby. For all he knew he was in the middle of the Atlantic.

The night was dark and growing colder. November was obviously not the time for bathing. He tread water and searched up in the sky. Could he remember enough astronomy to figure out where he was?

He looked at the stars vast overhead in a clear sky. Was he even near England anymore? Okay. There was a constellation he recognized. If he thought hard enough, if he sought the memory in his mind of all the charts and books he had pored over for Astronomy class-he could come up with exactly nothing. Because as usual, Hermione did his homework for him and he hadn't really learned it. Well, that would teach him. He could almost hear her mocking voice saying, "I told you so, Harry. Someday you'll need this."

"Right," he told himself, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. "Because didn't we all imagine this scenario." He felt like an idiot. If he could cast a tailing charm, Annikki could certainly countercharm with a Confundus. Dammit.

What the hell was he going to do? It was getting too cold to think. This was certainly not a good way to die, if there ever was a good way. And he really wanted to get back to Draco. His husband could warm him. Plus he didn't want Draco to be right. Not about this. Not about dying.

He began to hear whispering on the salty breeze. Hypothermia. Didn't it start by hallucinating? "Great. I'm hearing things. What next?" The whispering was odd, coming from all around him. What were they saying? Something about fish and dark and seaweed. Wait. That wasn't just whispering in his head. It was someone speaking.

Speaking…Parseltongue!

Harry dipped under water and cast a nonverbal Lumos! All around him was the dense green darkness of the sea, but swirling around his kicking feet were two eels. "Hey!" he tried to say out loud in Parseltongue, but he forgot about the water. He surfaced his head above the water again, cast a bubble head charm, and plunged down again. Hey!

The eels both whipped around and stared at him. Are you speaking to us, airbreather?

It was a strange dialect of Parseltongue, he realized, they being sea creatures and not truly snakes, after all. Um, yeah. Could you tell me where we are? Is there land nearby? I'm not good in the water.

We can see that. No, there is no land nearby. We are deep at sea.

Oh damn. I was afraid of that. I really need to get to land. I might die out here soon.

Both eels seemed to consider this, looking at him and perhaps wondering about how his flesh might taste. But they looked warily at his robes billowing darkly in the surging water.

Why should we help you, airbreather?

Has an airbreather ever spoken to you before? I'm special. I can bring you whatever it is you like best to eat.

Even shrimp?

Harry waved his wand. Suddenly, a thrashing school of shrimp appeared around the eels. They snapped at them delightedly. Harry hoped they'd decide soon. He was slowly losing the will to continue to float there.

Can you find me help?

The eels considered again. Finally, they agreed. One stayed while the other darted away outside of Harry's wand light. Harry tucked his wand into his belt. He thought it best in case he lost consciousness, then at least he wouldn't lose his wand. Not that this would help when he drowned.

What seemed like a long time passed. Harry tried to keep up a conversation with the remaining eel but eels weren't really very good conversationalists and that Parseltongue dialect was hard to understand. He felt himself drifting in and out of awareness. Once or twice his face slipped below the surface and the eel was kind enough to slap him with his tail and he sputtered upward again, face floating above the surface, the bubble charm having dissipated long ago. He thought of conjuring some flotation devices, but he was too weary to think of the charm.

Something large bumped his feet. He froze. All he could think of was "shark". And then a dorsal fin broke the surface and receded again and he knew with a tight band of fear around his chest that he was doomed.

Until the animal surfaced and a friendly smiling face greeted him.

The dolphin chattered at him. Only he couldn't speak dolphin. What did he say? he asked the returning eel.

She. She said to hold onto her and she will take you to land. For her, land is not far.

She surfaced again and offered him her dorsal fin. Harry was stiff from cold and exposure but he swam over and threw his arm around the fin. He gave her a pat and waved his thanks to the eels, but the dolphin had already taken off.

They zoomed through the water and Harry held on, gripping his other hand around the fin. He hoped it wasn't far for a human either, or he was still likely to drown. He was so cold and so weary, even with several warming charms and a few Ennervates. What kept him focused were thoughts of Draco.

It seemed like hours. Could it have been? Was he capable of holding on for hours? Apparently not, because he awoke for the umpteenth time by being nosed to the surface by the dolphin's snout. It chattered at him as if to scold. Harry wished he could have said something to it, but all at once he collided with a sandy shore and rolled several times, completely coated by wet sand.

The dolphin stayed in the shallows and lifted a fin to wave. She turned, slapped the water with her tail, and disappeared beneath the black waves.

Harry was alone and panting on his back on the shore. He didn't have the strength to lift himself to look. He had no idea where he was. But he was overwhelmed by weariness. It didn't seem too harmful to sleep now that he was out of the water and on dry land, so he simply closed his eyes and succumbed.

* * *

Draco was angrier than he had ever been in his life. He was ready to kill Albus Dumbledore. He couldn't direct his anger at Harry. No, he couldn't do that. If he kept his mind off of Harry he could survive this for the moment. The fear, the anxiety, the desperation could be set aside for the anger. Deep, palpable anger.

He clutched his wand and shouted the password at the gargoyle statue. It slid aside and stared down at him, tisking its head from side to side. Draco stomped up the griffin stair, not even waiting for it, and he pounded on the door. "Open up, old man! You can't hide from me!"

Never in his life was he more enraged. For once, he wished for a fraction of a second, that he had actually succeeded in killing the headmaster in his sixth year.

The door swung open and Draco stalked through-before he was met by a screeching Fawkes, baring his talons and flapping his wings at the young Potions master. Draco raised his arm up to his face, protecting it from the Phoenix's onslaught, but Dumbledore's voice thundered behind the bird.

"FAWKES! LET HIM PASS!"

The bird glared at Draco and then reluctantly flew out of the way, but perched nearby on Dumbledore's chair.

Dumbledore sat behind his desk and regarded Draco intently. Recovering, Draco stormed in and waved his wand. A cage formed around the Phoenix, angering it all the more. Dumbledore glanced at Draco's magic benignly before turning back to him.

"It's you that did this! Harry's gone and it's all your fault! You meddling, crazy old fool!"

Dumbledore rose. "Harry is gone?"

"He's gone to fight that witch. And it's your fault. And he hasn't come back! And…and…he never will." Draco suddenly collapsed at the foot of the desk. He couldn't hold it back anymore. He burst into uncontrollable sobs. He couldn't stop it and cast away his wand uselessly. What good was it? What good was any of it? He would just as soon die himself without Harry. There was no point in living.

Strong hands closed over his forearms and lifted him. He found himself pressed back into a soft chair and gnarled fingers caressed his face. The soft cooing of the old man sang above him. "Draco. Draco tell me," he soothed. "Have you lost contact with Harry? Has his magic left you?"

Draco scrubbed his eyes and suddenly froze. Wait a minute. Wait a minute. No, nothing of the kind, nothing like that at all had happened. He snapped open his eyes and stared into the watery blue eyes of the headmaster. "I still feel him!"

Dumbledore's face lost his worry and he patted Draco's shoulder before he turned to go back to his chair. He sat and waved his hand at the cage surrounding Fawkes. It vanished without a word spoken.

Draco wiped his face with his robe sleeve. Then Harry was all right! Why hadn't he thought of that before?

"Where has he gone, Draco?"

Draco shook his head. He swallowed a few times. His throat was dry and painful. "He didn't say. I don't think he really knew. He wouldn't let me go with him. Not after what happened with the Aurors."

Dumbledore nodded. "How long has he been gone?"

"Since after dinner last night."

The headmaster turned toward the window. The sky was much lighter now. The sun was soon to make an appearance over the distant mountains. Harry was alive, but where was he?

Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak, but there was instead a loud crack, shaking the very walls, and a strange lump of something appeared on the floor. It was dark and sandy and wrapped in what smelled like seaweed, but suddenly it sat up with a sputter.

"HARRY!" Draco dropped to his knees and grabbed him, kissing his face, even though it was covered in sand. "Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

Harry hugged Draco back and shook his head against him. "I'm fine. Well…I will be when I warm up a bit," he said, teeth chattering.

Draco took his wand and vanished the sand, the seaweed, and other debris and dried his robes with another charm. He conjured a blanket and helped Harry to the rug in front of the hearth and sat on the floor with him, rubbing the blanket over his shoulders and back to warm him.

"Did you get her, Harry? Have you finished her?" Draco didn't care how it sounded. He knew it came out like something growled in an arena. But Harry was the one that mattered the most. If he could, Draco would kill the bitch with his bare hands.

But Harry shook his head and thanked Albus for the hot cocoa he pressed into Harry's hand. He took a sip and sighed gratefully. "No. She got away. It was a strange encounter, all right."

"Tell us, Harry," said Dumbledore, crouching beside him.

Harry's glasses reflected the flames but Draco could still see the determined glint in those green eyes. Damn him. "She is very good at Legilimency. I think I blocked her, though. She cast a few hexes I didn't recognize and she was able to throw off and confound my tailing charm. She sent me on a wild goose chase and tricked me into Apparating over the ocean. A couple of eels and a dolphin saved the day."

"What? I think he's hit his head, Albus. He doesn't know what he's talking about."

Harry laughed and put his hand over Draco's. "I'm fine. The passing eels spoke a form of Parseltongue and I asked them to help. They brought a dolphin who was kind enough to pull me to shore somewhere. Still don't know where I was."

"May I suggest navigating by the stars next time," said Dumbledore mildly.

"Uh…yeah. I'll try that."

"There's not going to be a next time," said Draco stiffly. "That's it, Mr. Barometer. You're done. It's the Auror's turn again."

But Harry shook his head in that infuriating manner again. "Sorry, love. I can't leave this to the Aurors. She's too powerful in ways that even I had trouble with. I mean, I couldn't seem to Disapparate after I went into the water. I think she did something to the tailing charm I put on her and I can't tell what. They wouldn't stand a chance."

"And you did?"

"Maybe I have Felix Felices in my blood or something. It's that dumb luck pulling me through. If it weren't for the eels-"

"Then it would have been a passing of flock Phoenixes or a pod of friendly talking whales or a luxury liner full of Aurors or something to save Harry-sodding-Potter!" Draco got to his feet and paced before the fire again. "I hate you, you know that? I've always hated you and now I know why. These lucky, lucky things always happen for you. Always! It's bloody infuriating! Who can win against that! But can you really count on it? Is it that someday you will absolutely expect it and it won't be there and you'll find yourself finally, finally in a fatal situation? Gods, Potter! What is it going to take?"

Harry stared at Draco as if he were mad. "I…I don't really have a choice about that, do I? I mean…things just happen. I make the best of them. It's not always luck, you know. I do have a brain."

"But you never use it!"

"Now look-!"

"Gentlemen! Draco, I realize you were very worried over Harry. You have every right to be concerned. But Harry does know what he is doing. I have the utmost confidence in his abilities. The Forces of the Universe do conspire from time to time to make certain of his safety, and as long as Harry is on the side of Light I see no reason that this will change anytime soon."

"The forces of the universe-?" said Draco, mouth hanging open.

Dumbledore made shooing gestures. "It's time the both of you went off to your rooms. I will make arrangements to cover both your classes today. Off with you now."

Draco clasped his arm around Harry and led him out the door and down to the corridor. They said nothing as they made their way to their tower rooms, and it wasn't until they stood before the bed that Harry spoke. "I'm fine," he said softly, green eyes shining. "I kept my mind on you and I was fine."

Draco said nothing to this. He took the blanket from Harry and slowly undressed him. When the last of his clothes were in a pile on the floor, Draco took his hand and pulled him into the bathroom. He sat Harry down on a chair and ran the bath water, pouring in lots of bubbles the way Harry liked it. When it was ready, he led his husband into the tub, eased him down, and took up a wash cloth. Gently, lifting each limb in turn, he laved soap on him and washed him clean.

Harry watched him, allowing himself to be bathed and offering no comment.

Draco kept his lips tightly shut, trying not to think of anything but the feel of Harry's flesh under his fingers, the coarse hair on his legs, the rasp of a beard on his chin. He even took up a razor and shaved him, lifting his chin with a finger and slowly drawing the straight razor over his face and neck. Harry didn't like using magic to shave and so Draco did as he'd seen Harry do hundreds of times before.

Finally clean, Harry rose from the tub and Draco dried him off with a fluffy flannel. He led Harry back to the bed and lifted the covers for him.

Harry still stared at Draco as he made his way around the bed to his side, stripped off his clothes, and got in. He slid into Harry's embrace and rested his head on his chest, just listening to the steady heartbeat, and trying not to think of it ever stopping.

* * *

They slept the day away and kept company at night. Draco seemed back to normal by the next morning, though he was still subdued. He wasn't his usual talkative, preening self and Harry was slightly concerned. But he reckoned in a day or two it would all go back to normal.

Harry got no more messages or visions of Annikki and it worried him. But he kept the worry to himself.

They skipped breakfast in the Great Hall to dine together in their suite and so Harry gave Draco a peck on the lips as he left to floo to his own study in the dungeons. "See you later, Draco."

"Yeah, Harry. Later."

It was the most words Draco had said all morning. He shrugged. He'd get over it. Draco had to sulk. It was his way and Harry accepted it.

He trotted downstairs to his class where his seventh years were all assembled. "Well, today's the day for the first dueling club. Are we ready?"

The students nodded and then Felecia Rosencrantz raised her hand. "Sir, if I may ask; where were you yesterday?"

He had a feeling this would come up and he wondered just how he would handle it.

"I was…well…Look, the things we are learning here in Hogwarts truly do have practical applications in the real world. Everything you learn is important. Astronomy, for instance. I never gave it much thought but I sure could have used it the night before last." He didn't elaborate but the class was staring at him somberly. "What I want to say to you is this: Please take to heart all your studies. Please practice your spells and hexes. Please get to know your fellow students even if they are from another house. We are all in this together and we won't make it out alone. We must rely on the help of our friends and those close to us."

And that's when it hit Harry. How cruel he'd been to Draco, how much he had shut him out.

He set the students to practicing and resolved to talk to Draco at the next opportunity.

It was after lunch. Draco did not make an appearance at the Great Hall so Harry went down to the dungeons and found him brewing in his classroom. He knocked on the doorpost. "Hey."

"Hey," Draco answered, not looking up.

Harry sauntered in and peered into the bubbling cauldron and grimaced at the noxious fumes. "What are you making there?"

Draco raised a brow and gave Harry a look. "Do you mean to tell me, Mr. Potter, that you do not recognize this potion?"

Harry peered in again. Blue liquid, yellow smoke, smelled like rotten eggs. "Er…"

Draco tisked loudly. "Come now, Mr. Potter. I'm waiting."

"You sounded just like Snape there for a moment. Gave me the creeps."

"It is a Wit-Sharpening Potion, Mr. Potter. Looks like you could use some."

"Ha, ha. Look, can this sit a bit? I want to talk to you."

Draco stiffened but gave no other indication that Harry's words affected him. He gave the potion one more stir and set his spoon aside. "So talk."

Harry looked around the potions classroom. Nothing had really changed since Snape's day. It was still dark and dismal and still smelled of the most noxious of potions. The smell never seemed to leave the place. But it was Draco's domain now and Harry was very proud of him for all he had achieved.

"I just wanted to thank you for the other day. For taking care of me. I really appreciated it."

Draco shrugged. "That's okay," he said blandly. "You know I'd do anything for you, Harry."

"Yeah, I know. This whole thing has been hard on you-"

"No shit."

"But we can't carry on this way. We have to come to terms. Remember, we've got babies on the way."

Draco suddenly reddened with anger. "I don't give a damn for all that!"

"Well you had better! You're going to be a father now and I expect you to rise to the responsibility. Whether I'm here or not."

"But Harry-"

"No buts, Draco. You either accept this…or you can pack your bags now."

He hadn't meant to say all this. He had meant to speak kindly, to thank him, maybe even snog a bit before classes resumed, but Draco made him so angry with his sulking attitude.

Draco's face fell. "Pack my bags?"

"That's right. Because I am going to do this. There is nothing you can say to make me change my mind. Even if I die trying I have to stop this evil. No matter how many times I've got to bloody do it. It's my lot, okay? I didn't ask for any of this, but there it is. And I could really use your love and support in this, because I absolutely don't need your bitching at me about it for the next hundred years. So let's have it out. Get it over with."

"Don't you love me?" he asked, voice tight.

"Yes. I am insanely in love with you. I can't go one moment without thinking about you. If given the opportunity, I'd daydream for hours. Even when I lost my memory I still fell in love with you. So you know it isn't that. I simply cannot do what I have to do if you are going to give me hell."

"I was worried. I thought you'd died."

"I know."

Harry waited, watching the various emotions playing on Draco's face as he considered all the angles. And for a minute or two, Harry began to worry. Would Draco leave him rather than put up with the anxiety? Draco was free to travel again, go places as a fully functional wizard. The Wizengamot had given him back his status. He had a wand. He could go anywhere.

Harry wanted to tell him, to beg him to stay. But he kept his mouth shut tight. Draco had to decide on his own or it was no good.

Finally, Draco looked up. His grey eyes gazed softly at Harry. "You bloody well know I can't leave you. Where would I go? What would be the point without you, Harry? I promise to behave myself. I will try not to fly off like that. I will pay attention to our connection. And above all, I will try to remember that you are Harry-sodding-Potter and things always go your way."

Harry breathed his relief. "They don't always, you know. Fifth year wasn't so good."

Draco moved first and took Harry into his arms. "Harry, Harry, Harry. Why did it have to be you?"

"Well, the forces of the universe-"

"Not that! Why did I have to fall for you? It could have been any number of blokes. Some far better-looking."

"Hey!" He swatted Draco's shoulder.

Draco chuckled. "Well, I guess you're cute enough." He kissed Harry's cheek.

"I have one more favour to ask."

He pushed Harry back with a frown. "Bloody hell, Potter. What is it now!"

"Can you teach me…Unforgivables?"

Draco hadn't expected that. "What?"

"I need to teach my seventh year the Unforgivables. But I can't do them."

"And what makes you think I can?" he said, voice threateningly low.

Harry felt himself back paddling. "We-e-ell…I just assumed you knew…The Death Eater thing. Your father and all-"

"Yeah. Fine." He picked up the stirring spoon again and plunged it into the cauldron with a glop.

"So…do you? Know how, I mean?"

"Yes, Potter. Okay? I do. Now…would you mind getting out of here? I have a class in ten minutes."

"Oh. Okay." He pivoted toward the door and when he reached it he looked back at Draco over his cauldron. Two red spots appeared on Draco's pale cheeks.

Harry climbed out of the dungeons. Draco must be embarrassed that he knew those curses, but certainly he must have reckoned that Harry knew he knew them. Didn't he? Oh why did everything have to be so messed up? Especially with the babies on the way. It seemed like the only light in their lives now. Harry made a mental note to visit Pansy and see how she was doing. Right after he learned the Unforgivables. Right. Not messed up, his life.

* * *

Several hours later, the dueling club was about to begin. It was the free period of the day and students from all houses had gathered. Harry reckoned there were some fifty students present and more were arriving.

He stood off to the side and allowed his seventh years to take charge, writing down names (looked like Rosencrantz was in charge of that), and organizing them into pairs (Fenwick took over this) and giving them a few ideas for hexes (Treeloft was the natural) and easing bruised egos (Hudson gave her soothing best).

When it looked like all the students were assembled, Treeloft turned to him. "Professor Potter, I think you should offer a few words."

"Oh. Right." Harry moved toward the front of the classroom and all eyes followed him. "Well, this is a student run club. I'm only your sponsor but I'm also here to help. The seventh years are in charge so if you have any questions I suggest you go to them first. Now. Although I know you will enjoy yourself here the purpose is far from mere entertainment. These are practical skills that you will need out in the world when you leave Hogwarts. There is never a time when we as a free Wizarding people should drop our guard from Dark magic. There are always threats to our rights and freedoms and you cannot rely on your Ministry to always take care of things for you." Or do what's right, he told himself, thinking of Fudge and Scrimgeour.

There were murmurs amongst the students. Harry raised his hands for silence. He felt his cheeks flush. "Er…I'm not trying to incite anything here," he said sheepishly, and a few students laughed. "I merely meant that we must all be prepared to step forward if called. And we are all capable. When Voldemort-" and some students still cringed at the Name- "was still out there, students who never thought they had it in them became my most powerful allies. So don't discount anyone. Well…that's enough out of me. Please consult your seventh years when you are ready to begin." He waved a greeting to them all and stepped back into the shadows again.

Treeloft seemed to gravitate to the center and initialized the dueling. He walked amongst the students and Harry couldn't help but see a bit of himself in the Slytherin. If he wasn't careful Treeloft might be after his job. Maybe I'll be done with it in fifty years or so, he thought with a smile.

Though there were a lot of students, Rosencrantz made sure that each person got a turn. And then there was a demonstration by Treeloft and Rosencrantz. They dueled one another in the nasty way Harry had taught them, and the other students ooed and awed. Harry watched them transfixed. They were really working hard, sweating and panting as they chased one another around the room. He couldn't tear his eyes away and he felt his skin grow warm with the chase.

Finally, Treeloft had her cornered and was about to deliver the coup de grace when he raised his wand, signaling the duel was over.

"No," Harry whispered. "Finish it. Finish it." His hands curled into tight fists and his arms were trembling with excitement. A bit of drool trailed from the corner of his mouth. "Finish it!" he rasped.

But Treeloft was facing the students again and taking questions.

Harry slumped against the wall, feeling suddenly exhausted. He pressed his fingers into his eyes. That was the strangest thing. It seemed like there was a green light behind his eyelids. "Odd," he told himself. He raised his hand to his face and felt the spittle on his chin for the first time. Embarrassed, he wiped it with his sleeve, but by then the students were filing out.


A/N: It ain't over yet, folks. Not by a long shot. Many more chapters to go.


On to Chapter Ten
"Nine Months"

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"Waking Dream"

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