A/N: I apologized for the delay. However, enjoy and please take after TOW (the latest reviewer of chapter one) and give me a thorough review. I want to know what you think! I would appreciate that very much! -janepotter22

Chapter Two: Halloween

Of course, I hadn't known at the time that this girl was indeed Ginny Weasley.

"Who are you?" I demanded of her. She didn't, however, get a chance to answer me for Ron interrupted just as her mouth uttered a syllable.

"You absolutely cannot play with us, Ginny!" said Ron, indignant and incredulous. "Me and Harry are about to play and you can't! So go and put his broom back where you found it."

Ginny seemed to ignore her brother completely as she was looking at only me, but the corners of her mouth turned down in irritation. Ron didn't notice. Then she smiled at me and held out her hand that held the chocolate cake.

"Do you like chocolate cake?" she asked me and then, as if she suddenly remembered it was in her hand, took a good bite out of it. As she munched the moist, chocolate-y confection, her lips poked out, her jaws worked persistently, and her cheeks became covered in crumbs and icing. When she re-presented the cake to me, it was all the more appealing.

"I love chocolate," I told her in an awed whisper, and I began to reach my hand, slowly inching toward the yummy prize. But Ron's hand came down onto mine and snatched it back from the cake.

"If you eat that stuff, Harry, you won't be able to fly around!" said Ron, looking almost hurt that I took an interest to his sister.

"Sorry," I said with an apologetic grimace and immediately began ignoring Ginny. Ginny's face momentarily held a hurt expression, her doe eyes drooping. When she looked at me, tears welled.

"I'll be in the garden, then," she said with great sullen, and turned and left. When I turned back to Ron, he looked satisfied and only slightly annoyed.

I felt absolutely sick.

Our game of apple-Quidditch was not so enjoyable. The entire time, I felt sick with guilt and I didn't put much of any effort into catching or throwing the apples, and I dropped them often.

At the end of my stay with Ron at the Burrow, I'd met three of his five brothers (Fred and George, the twins, and Percy) and most importantly, his sister Ginny whom I fell in love with the moment I saw her. When my mother arrived to pick me up at five, I hadn't seen Ginny again that day, but I did find my broom returned to Ron's bed. It looked as if it hadn't been moved.

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Perhaps it was the dismal Quidditch game we played that first afternoon at the Burrow, or my lack of enthusiasm after the game, or the very boring nothing-conversation we had in Ron's bedroom before we played the game, but Ron did not invite me to the Burrow again for weeks, although he did frequent Godric's Hollow and Grimmauld Place. When he finally invited me over again, it was for a Halloween party that his parents were throwing for all their friends and their children, so naturally, I was invited. Halloween, Ron told me, was supposed to be a big celebration for all of the Wizarding Community. I was a little surprised by this because it was because it was usually a very sullen and depressing occasion for my mother and my father's friends, who naturally caused me to feel sad and assume a serious disposition come every Hallows Eve.

So, when Ron told me about this huge celebration that his parents invited us to, I was taken aback and told him I would see if my mother was alright with this. When I told Mum about this invitation, I distinctly remember the note of doubt I tried so hard to hide in my voice. I remember her expression as she tucked me in my blankets for the night: her soft brows pulled together and her lips tightened… dubiety. She didn't give me and answer, or a straight answer at least.

"I don't know right now, Harry. I'll think on it."

She said goodnight and kissed my forehead.

On Halloween morning, two days after I asked Mum about the Halloween Party, an icy frost froze over lawns and a dense fog settled just above the ground, lingering in the way of people's visions. It was cold and eerily silent. Dark grey clouds, heavy with the threat of rain, groaned against their heavy load. As I anticipated, my mother did not rise early and I assumed she was wallowing in grief and despair.

As a young child, I found it extremely difficult for me to sleep in very late, even if the presumed activities of the looming day were nonexistent, or particularly anticipated. This was true, especially on such a curious day. Was Halloween to be a day for mourning or joyous celebration? I looked out my second story bedroom window for hours until I was surprised (pleasantly so) to hear the deep, slow drawl of my stepfather's monotone voice greet the sleepy lilt of my mother's beyond the wall that separated my room from theirs. I climbed out of bed and knocked on their bedroom door.

I was rather fond of my stepfather, even though he seemed disinterested in me at times, even though Sirius held such open and obvious disdain for Severus, and Remus respectfully disapproved of my mother's choice to love and marry him. Sometimes I questioned Severus's motives with my mother, based solely on Sirius's and Remus's opinions, but, because being so young often brought with it a bit of an attention span problem, I would usually forget all about my conflicting feelings toward him and revisit them weeks or months later. Besides, I had no reason to dislike him.

"Harry?" spoke my mother's voice beyond the oaken door that was opened. A sliver of grey light filtered through the partially opened door, illuminating a thin rectangle of the darkened corridor. As I pushed the door opened, it creaked on its hinges, betraying the quaint cottage's old age. My bare feet carried me over the gleaming hard wood floor to the bed. Severus had his back to me as he looked in the mirror, tugging the emerald brocade of his Slytherin tie into place. Mum was still in bed, the blankets pulled up to her chin.

"'Morning, Mum," I said as I crawled into bed next to her. She sat up and the covers slid from her shoulders to reveal her body wrapped in a wine colored terrycloth robe. She enveloped me in a hug, her mussed red hair falling into my eyes.

"Good morning, darling."

"I'm off, Lily," said Severus behind me. Mum's chin momentarily lifted from my head and I heard the distinct smacking noise of brief kissing. "I'm sorry that I have to go so early, but, unfortunately, Halloween cannot fall on a weekend this year. "

"I understand, Sev. Really." Another kiss.

"I'll see you after dinner, Lily, Harry."

I looked up. "By Sevvy!" I said, using the abbreviation of his name that I used, and waved farewell to my stepfather as he walked out of the room with his briefcase in hand. I jumped off the bed and looked out the window in time to see him part the house a minute later and Apparate just outside the iron gate

"It must be nearing nine," said Mum, suddenly. I looked at her questioningly. "We should eat some breakfast," she added. She closed her rob, tying it before she pulled the blankets aside and getting out of bed. "I know the perfect breakfast."

My ears and expression perked. "What did you have in mind?"

"I haven't had pumpkin pancakes in four years." And then she hesitantly added: "Not since the day your father died." I stopped in my tracks. "He died today four years ago. On Halloween night. That morning, all three of us had pumpkin pancakes." She kneeled to my level and pressed her forehead to mine. "You absolutely loved them," she said with a grin.

I smiled back weakly. "I thought you didn't like to talk about Daddy," I said she led me into the kitchen. I watched her gather and mix together the ingredients for the pancakes. She heated a skillet and put a slice of butter on it to melt. As the butter melted, she pulled out tubes of black and green icing.

"Well, Harry. The truth is that I loved your father very much and a big part of me still does. But I have to get over his death."

"How did Daddy die?" I asked solemnly.

"Which brings me to my next point: Your father would want you to know all about him. It's my duty to make sure that happens. And since—" her voice faltered for the first time—"and since today is the anniversary of his death, I'll tell you the manner of his death." I was silent as I waited for her to tell me about my father. She was also silent, collecting her emotions and concentrating on pouring drops of pumpkin pancake batter onto the hot skillet.

"Alright… Your father was a very great man. The most wonderful husband and father… and together he and I worked with others to help make the Wizarding World a better place. You see there was a war going on. On one side, there were people who despised witches and wizards who are like me—Muggle-borns and half-bloods. Muggles are people who have no magical blood, meaning they aren't a witch or wizard, and so Muggle-borns are witches or wizards born to a Muggle family. The leader of this group against Muggle-borns and half-bloods was a very bad man. He was after our family and one night… he found us. That was Halloween four years ago.

"James fought to protect us, so that you and I could escape… but in the end he was murdered, and that… wizard proceeded to go after me and you…"

"What happened?"

"To put it simply, he's gone. The bad wizard is gone." She looked at me, her eyes faraway. "You have nothing to fear, Harry. No one is going to hurt either of us. Ever." I nodded. She flipped a couple pancakes and spoke once more. "I want you to visit James's—that is to say your father's—grave today. Sirius and Remus will be there to accompany us."

And that was it. I had many more questions, but that was all she told me. At least, that was all she told me for the time being.

As she prepared the pancakes, she changed the subject. Well, sort of. "And even though this day is a very sad occasion for us, it's also a very happy one. Like I said, the bad wizard is gone and he can't hurt anyone anymore – not you, not innocent Muggle-borns. It's a day for celebration. And so I'm going to make us all dinner and after dinner, you can go over to the Weasley's with Sirius and Remus." I looked up at her, joy pulling my face into a smile.

"Really?" I asked.

Suddenly, a plate of pumpkin pancakes was in front of me. The black icing outlined the ridges that would be found on a normal sized pumpkin; the green icing represented the stem and leafy vine at the crown of the pumpkin. Mum then sprinkled powdered sugar onto my them, licking off some stray icing from her finger. "Of course. Like I said, it's a day for celebration."

I looked at my food, smiling. I dug in and it was delicious.

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Remus and Sirius, my deceased father's two best friends, arrived at the cottage soon after lunch and together, all four of us made our way to the cemetery that was at the end of Godric's Hollow. The church that the cemetery sat behind was a great architectural feature. It resembled a gothic Catholic structure, only it was a building for Lutherans. In the cemetery, or rather, beneath the cemetery, wizards and Muggles alike rested eternally in the ground, as Godric's Hollow is a community filled with both.

An intricate iron gate loomed above me with spiked gothic lettering which formed the words Godric Cemetery. Sirius, who led our group of four, pushed open the great gate which creaked loudly. That gate was ancient. As we entered the cemetery, it was difficult for me to see through the dense fog that settled about the ground and lingered near the tombstones. But the three adults that surrounded me seemed to know where they were going, because despite the fog, they weaved effortlessly through the many headstones. The walk seemed to take a very long time, as the cemetery was immense and very old.

But finally, we came upon a headstone quite near the back. It was handsome, smooth white marble with my father's name chiseled into the fine stone. The date of his birth, his death and a short epitaph that Mum, Sirius, and Remus had concocted together, was below his name, respectively.

My mother, who was dressed in black dress robes with a black veil covering her eyes, set a single red rose on the ground. She was silent and still for a moment. Then she stepped away from her first husband's grave and took hold of my hand; hers was shaking. Remus and Sirius each chatted with him, casually, as if he stood before them alive. Whenever my godfather cracked a joke and laughed, the sound was strange—tarnished with bitterness and grief. Finally, I was left standing alone in front on this man's grave, this man who died for me, who was my father. I was at a total loss for words. It was the most solemn I ever felt as a kid. Tears pooled in my eyes as I imagined—and possibly even remembered—the night he died. My fingers traced his engraved name: James Potter

Just as the ominous clouds above groaned and spilled their heavy load onto the earth, I thought of what I wanted to James Potter. Tears fell in a rush down my face, masked in the downpour of rain, and my voice was lost amidst a clap of thunder as I croaked out, "Thanks, Dad." I wiped my eyes and turned on the spot heading out of the cemetery and toward the cottage.

Mum was waiting for me at the door, her veil and black dress robes gone, her eyes no longer brooding, but proud. She hugged me then handed me a mug of butterbeer and performed an instant-drying spell, as I was thoroughly soaked from the rain. I hiccupped as I sipped from my mug, the usual routine when trying to be finished with crying.

The atmosphere inside the kitchen was changed – it'd gone from mourning and serious to light and buoyant. That helped to ease the tension I felt, although now I think on it, it probably took great effort and diligence for the adults to lock away what they were feeling in order to achieve that happier atmosphere. They were protecting me. They couldn't have me feeling so much at such a young age. They were teaching me that there are times to grieve and be serious and that it's okay to get over something, to not dwell on such morbid things like the death of your true love, for the sake of one's own sanity. …Although I didn't know any of that at the time.

So I cheered up and we all enjoyed a rather pleasant day. Mum cooked a lot and both Sirius and Remus took turns both helping her and supervising me. Once it had stopped raining, and I'd digested my food to Mum's standards, I mounted my broom and zoomed around the house. Sirius got a real kick out of it and Remus laughed good-naturedly while my mother frowned. She yelled at Sirius for allowing me to do such a thing, that I could've fallen or broken something, and he immediately sobered up, telling me that I'd be able to fly over at Grimmauld place, where there was room.

At dinner, which was at six, the grown-ups talked and discussed rather boring things. Finally, when everyone's plates were nearly empty, Mum finally mentioned something worth mentioning.

"Well, anyway, Sirius, Remus. I was hoping you'd be able to take Harry over to the Weasley's for their little party tonight. I would go but I'd rather Sev not worry where I am. He doesn't know about the party." My mother's voice was hesitant, as the subject was one that should be held carefully. And it was. Both Sirius and Remus disliked my stepfather, Sirius with much more passion that the latter. And usually when my mother mentioned him… well, it just wasn't pretty. They'd get in a heated argument about the past and dishonoring my father's memory, whether or not marrying Severus was doing him—and me—an injustice.

But tonight, there was only a short pause where Sirius's expression was one that was almost unreadable. He finished chewing his food and surprised us by saying, in condescending manner of course, "Ah yes! How is Snivellus these days?"

Mum glared, her face hot with anger. "Severus is fine, Sirius. Just answer the question."

"Oh, Lily, ease up, I'm just joking." He leaned back in his seat. I could tell he was on the verge of speaking his mind. His lips trembled and parted only slightly. But he closed them and leaned forward, discerning Mum through half-closed eyes. "Fine," he said and sat up, assuming his normal expression. "When's this party start?"

Mum opened her mother to reveal the time, but Remus interrupted. "Actually, Lily, tonight is a full moon. Hardly ideal conditions for me to be near a nice family."

"Oh! Moony that reminds me! I've got your potion." Mum stood up suddenly and ran from the room. She returned with a large vial of smoking potion, which she handled with care. As she crossed the room to hand it to Remus, she seemed to be walking on eggshells. Every step was deliberate and careful. "Severus helped me brew it. He's better at potions than I am so I trust this recipe." I saw Sirius roll his eyes and once more take on a tight face at the mention of Severus Snape.

"Thank you," said Moony politely. He always spoke formally, as if he were from an earlier era of time, but I learned later that he was just always very polite. He especially was formal with Severus. "It's getting dark," he said, taking a swig of the potion. He scowled and shivered like a dog shakes off water after swimming. "I should head out." He stood to leave, carrying his plate to the sink.

"Oh, let me get that." My mother rushed to his aid and pried the dishes from his hands. "Are you going to be okay?" she asked, rubbing his arm.

"Oh, Lily, I'll be fine. Really. The potion will help immensely. Thank you so much for it." He bent to kiss her on the cheek. "And thank you for the lovely meal and Happy Halloween. I shall return once the moon loses her sway." He patted Sirius's back.

"Would you like company?" asked Sirius, who was now leaning against the kitchen door, his arms crossed over his chest.

Moony thought about it for a moment. "No, thank you. I'll see you in a few days." He turned and walked out the door. My mother called benedictions through the front door until he finally Apparated.

"So when's the party start, Lily?" said Sirius, bringing back the conversation at hand.

"Uh, it starts at seven," said Mum distractedly, piling dishes in the sink. Sirius glanced at a clock in the kitchen.

"Great. We're late. It's seven fifteen. Harry, why don't you go get cleaned up and ready while I help your mum clean these dishes." My mother looked at Sirius gratefully.

"Alright," I said. I was anxious to learn that I was late for the party. My first actual Halloween celebration and I was late! I tripped up the stairs in my excitement, changed my shirt which had sauce all down the front, into the orange sweater Mum had bought me for the occasion, and went into the bathroom to splash water on my face. I bounded down the stairs just as Sirius put the last plate he was drying onto the rack. "I'm ready!" I announced with a big grin on my face.

"Good job!" said Sirius. He turned to Mum. "We'll just go now. I remember where they live."

"Okay. And thanks so much!" she called after us as I was carried away by my godfather. Beyond the iron gate, Sirius grabbed my hand and I held on for dear life as we were sucked through a compressed hole and popped into existence on the lane that led straight to the Burrow.

At the door, Percy Weasley greeted us. Mrs. Weasley came hurrying after him. "…have I told you about not answering the door—Oh hello, Sirius. Hello Harry. Welcome to the party. We've just finished dinner…" She ushered us both in hurriedly and admonished Percy once more.

"Actually, Molly, we've just finished as well."

"Oh, well that's good then. Now, will Harry be sleeping over?"

"Really?" I asked. She nodded.

"If it's alright."

"Oh. I wasn't aware… I'll just go back and tell Lily then. Do you mind if Harry stays while I…?"

"Oh, not in the least!"

"Thank you. I'll be back then…"

When Sirius had gone, Molly told me that Ron was in his room, getting ready, and to go right on up. I did, and when I entered Ron's room, it was even better than before. Enchanted bats floated from his slanted ceiling, their flapping wings making little noises in the silence. The fire light of a jack-o-lantern flickered and cast an eerie, geometric grin on the walls and floor of his room. I saw Ron grunted as he tried to squeeze into a forest green knit jumper with a jack-o-lantern sewn into the fabric. He couldn't see me as the sweater was covering his face.

"Need some help?" I asked him. He stopped and turned a few degrees to face me.

"Harry, is that you?" I laughed and approached him, tugging at the sweater. It pulled down nicely, his hands suddenly appearing, his hair disheveled. "Thanks." He was out of breath and flushed.

"No problem. I like your room," I said, turning slowly on the spot and viewing it thoroughly.

"Fred and George helped me," said Ron hesitantly and he peered around the room warily. I understood his cautiousness at once. Fred and George, his twin brothers were mischievous, trickster children, especially since they were seven. In the one day that I was at the Burrow, they'd cracked more jokes and pulled more stunts in one day than I could ever hope to achieve at all. Those twins had guts and I've no idea how they got away with any of it. Ron reckons they're geniuses, and their ability for jokes was innate, as they were born on the first of April.

"So, did you bring your pajamas?" he asked me.

"No. Sirius—er, my godfather is getting them. I guess you forgot to tell me about sleeping over."

"Oh, sorry." He shrugged and led me down the stairs. "Mum made lots of sweets. Homemade candies, fudge, cupcakes, cookies… She even made butterbeer!" Even though I'd eaten dinner, my stomach yearned to be filled with Mrs. Weasley's masterful confections. My tongue watered, just thinking about the chocolate cake she had made weeks earlier. "Just you wait, Harry. It's amazing!"

I sure didn't doubt him.

We entered the living room, and music was playing, drifting from a Wizarding Wireless Radio. An festive song drifted to my ears, the C minor tune setting the mood for a Halloween celebration. Mrs. Weasley brought out a tray of chocolate cupcakes, with orange or purple icing and festive sprinkles. I bit into one with purple icing, savoring the flavors that seemed to melt in my mouth. Ron waited for the fudge – chocolate fudge, peanut butter fudge, raspberry dark chocolate, white chocolate fudge and even butterscotch fudge. After the fudge came the homemade candies. I took a piece and felt its buttery warmth slide through me and permeate my entire body.

As I finished off my fifth candy and started on my first chocolate chip cookie (warm and soft with the chips melting in my hand), Sirius arrived with my things. Mrs. Weasley took them to Ron's room and when she returned, her husband stood at the front of the living room. He announced that we should all proceed to the center of the garden for a surprise. Ginny complained from beside me, which startled me, because I hadn't noticed her before. Apparently she was frightened, as her complaint convolutedly led me to believe.

"But it's so dark, Mummy! I thought we weren't aloud to go out at night. And it's cold and there're garden gnomes."

"Don't worry, Ginny," said one of the twins. "The gnomes are all sleeping and we know how to handle them if they wake up, don't we Fred?"

"That's right," assured the other twin, who was apparently Fred.

"Is everyone dressed warmly?" asked Mrs. Weasley. There were murmurs of yes, and only Ginny said no. "I've got your cloak and jumper right here, Ginny, darling," said her mother adoringly. Ginny tugged on Mrs. Weasley's own cloak, complaining that she wanted some more fudge. Mrs. Weasley hopped right to it, asking Sirius and Percy to carry the snacks outside.

As Mr. Weasley started out the back door in the kitchen, the guests followed, trickling out of the home. Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were last, behind me and Ron with Sirius ahead of us. Out in the garden, it was all at once spooky and magnificent. White wax candles floated in the air and in trees, accompanied by bats and miniature jack-o-lanterns. The full moon was fat and bright in the sky over head, littered with millions of stars an unfathomable distance away.

At the center of the garden, stone benches with gargoyles as armrests had been placed around a pile of pyre, which Mr. Weasley lit with an incantation and flick of his wand. Fire, hot and high, roared to life, blazing before us all. Its immense heat radiated, billowing our hair. All around me, witches and wizards and magical children alike sat beside each other with wide, curious, and fearful eyes. Beside me, Ginny shook, although not from the cold as she was layered in two jumpers and a cloak. She clutched at her mother's arm, meeting my eyes for a brief moment before looking away. Suddenly, Mr. Weasley spoke, his voice curiously louder than the pressing silence and crackling of the new fire.

"I am going to tell you all the story of Halloween—the new Halloween that we have come to celebrate for past four years. This tale is both terrifying and happy, the story of how one very bad wizard abused his magical abilities, caused pain for so many others and how his victims fought back and defeated him once and for all." I was dead silent, taking in every syllable, every word and their meanings.

"It all started when a wizard by the name of—well, we don't speak his name, ever. Instead, let's call him He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, or better yet, You-Know-Who. Anyway, it all started when You-Know-Who gathered followers called Death Eaters. He and the Death Eaters united against those they saw weren't fit for the magical world, which included Muggles, Muggle-born magic-folk, and blood traitors.

"You-Know-Who killed many people for many, many years. He used the most unspeakable--unmentionable--methods to obliterate his targets, and instill fear into the hearts of men. The world of magic as we knew it was falling apart and into chaos. For a very long time, there was no one to trust. And finally, years ago, someone decided to do something about You-Know-Who. "This person was Albus Dumbledore, the only person that the Dark Lord ever feared.

"Dumbledore established the first actual anti-Vol… anti-You-Know-Who organization, which he called the Order of the Phoenix. The Order ranged in its members from the young to the old, and every person had a job, whether it was catering for meetings or spying from within You-Know-Who's very inner circle of Death Eaters. Every little bit helped, as even the simplest task could have been dangerous.

"Finally, on Halloween night four years ago, You-Know-Who made his final kill." I shuddered as I realized he was talking about my father. "He attempted to attack the family of two Order members, intending to kill the child for reasons we know not even today. A very faithful servant of his, also the secret keeper of the family's whereabouts, betrayed their location to You-Know-Who. However, his assailment fell to pieces as he was in turn killed by the mother of the very child he sought." My heart thumped in my ears at this bit of news. My mother was a hero, and I never even knew. "Sadly, You-Know-Who wasn't able to be killed before he took the life of one very brave soul… the child's father…" Mr. Weasley teetered on the edge of saying my father's name, but his eyes rested on me and I looked quickly away towards the fire. There was silence and the name that Arthur Weasley was about to utter was lost forever to the winds.

"On a much happier note," he continued, "tonight is a night for celebration and feasting, as it has been for hundreds of years. But now, even more so, the magical community can revel in the good news that the Dark Lord has fallen and he can never, ever, cause the pain he once inflicted…"

Mr. Weasley's voice faded from my hearing. I sat and stared at the fire and listened to it crackle. Whenever the snacks tray was passed around, I grabbed blindly for the food and ate without thought. Mr. Weasley told a few more stories, mostly children's stories from Beadle the Bard.

It was nearing nine when he finished with his stories, and Mrs. Weasley insisted that the children get to bed. I looked to my right, and saw that Ginny was fast asleep, and I was pretty drowsy myself. Mrs. Weasley stood up with the child in her arms, and Ginny didn't even wake up. All around me, people followed suit, and prepared their children for bed. Sirius and I followed Ron as he stumbled sleepily inside. He gathered a few more sweets and then we three ascended the stairs to his attic room.

Ron grumbled something about having to climb so many stairs just to get to bed, and Sirius chuckled good-naturedly. Inside Ron's room, I found my pajamas and my godfather helped me into them, as they were footy pajamas, flap in the back and all. Little broomsticks and their flying boy companions were scattered about the long-john clothing. When both Ron and I were in our outfits, Sirius crouched to my level, balanced on the balls of his feet. He gave me a hug and ruffled my wild hair.

"Goodnight, mate," he said in a low voice. I'll tell your mother that you're settled and safe alright?" I nodded, rubbing my eyes drowsily. He nodded as well and tucked both Ron and I into bed, kissing my forehead. "I'll see you maybe tomorrow, alright? Alright. Good night." He turned out the lights and left the room.

I could barely here him descend the steps as the bliss of a deep sleep quickly and powerfully overtook me.