Disclaimer: I own nothing, it all belongs to J.K.Rowling. I'm just borrowing the characters to play with for a while. This is for pleasure only, no profit is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter Twenty-six

Casualties of War

Harry slowly returned to consciousness and scrunched his forehead, disoriented. He felt something heavy pressing down upon his back and his head pounded mercilessly. The acrid smell of smoke filled the air and he coughed, trying to clear his lungs of dust and dirt. He blearily opened his eyes but the air was so filled with dust he couldn't make out anything more than a few feet in any direction. His body ached and he lifted his arm to rub a sore spot on the back of his head, feeling a warm, sticky substance. He drew his hand back in surprise and looked at the bright red stains of blood on his fingertips.

Again becoming aware of the pressure on his back, he tried to sit up but found he couldn't move. He was pinned beneath something large and heavy; he tried to move it off unsuccessfully. He searched around frantically for his wand but couldn't see it. He thought he felt it poking into his chest and assumed it was trapped beneath him. What was on top of him? He turned his head as far as it could go, craning his neck to see.

It appeared to be part of a wall from the Burrow. He was beginning to hear movement now, a faint rumbling of voices but he couldn't make out who they were. He thought he could hear someone crying. What happened? He closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment as visions of the battle that had taken place filled his mind.

Moony! His mind envisioned Remus collapsing at Wormtail's feet again and again as all the air in his chest constricted. He began frantically struggling to release himself and nearly screamed in frustration when the wall wouldn't budge. Panic was overwhelming him. Remus had to be all right, he just had to be! Raising his hand, he bellowed, "Wingardium Leviosa!" and the wall rose above him, freeing him to scramble out.

The moment he stood up, he fell crashing back down as sharp stabs of agony shot up his leg. He turned to inspect the damage and saw a crudely formed wooden stake imbedded in his left thigh. His trousers were heavily stained with blood surrounding the wound. He didn't have time for this! Grabbing the stake, he gripped it tightly and yanked with all his might. He withdrew the stake with a sickening, squelching sound and screamed in pain as it was released.

Someone must have heard him for he heard footsteps approaching. He couldn't focus on anything but the intense pain in his leg as he tried to stop the heavy flow of blood with his hands. He had to find Moony!

"Harry!" Mr. Weasley's voice sighed as he dropped down next to him, looking at the gaping wound on Harry's leg. "Hold on son, let me see if I can at least tie this off."

He removed the belt from around his waist and tied it above the wound, slowing down the flow of blood. Mr. Weasley was filthy and his head was bleeding slightly from a cut above his left eyebrow. He was tense and worked jerkily as he hurried to stop Harry's bleeding.

"Moony," Harry began but Mr. Weasley interrupted him.

"I haven't seen him yet, Harry. Your uncle and cousin are okay but I had to stun them to keep them quiet. I'm sorry, but there really wasn't an alternative."

"It's okay," Harry said. He couldn't believe he was here talking about stunning Uncle Vernon when Remus could beNo! He was fine! He had to be fine. This couldn't be happening again, Remus had to be okay.

"Please Mr. Weasley, I've got to find Moony! He was fighting with Wormtail. He touched him with his silver hand!" Harry hated the desperate, pleading quality to his voice but he couldn't help that right now, he had to find him before it was too late.

Mr. Weasley's eyes widened in shock and concern as he looked around trying to see Remus through the thick, dusty air. He must have spotted something because his eyes squinted before he quickly stood up and bolted to a spot not far from where Harry was laying.

Using every ounce of will power he possessed, Harry raised himself to his feet and followed, dragging his leg behind him. It seemed to take him forever to reach the hunched over form of Mr. Weasley. It was only as he sank down beside him that he realized it wasn't Remus he was tending, but Aunt Petunia.

The tourniquet Remus had wrapped around her had slowed the flow of blood and Harry could make out a very slight rise and fall in her chest so he knew she was still alive. He found himself amazingly relieved by this. Mr. Weasley looked at him gravely, "We have to get her to St. Mungo's, but I think she'll be all right. Thank Merlin someone had the foresight to do this," he said, nodding towards the tourniquet.

"Moony," Harry whispered brokenly. Remus had saved Aunt Petunia. He had to be all right!

Mr. Weasley nodded and put a hand on Harry's shoulder, "Let me take your Aunt back over towards the house, then I'll help you search. The Order is here somewhere, I saw them arrive."

Harry nodded mutely and once again rose up on his protesting leg. He limped towards the direction he thought Remus had been before the explosion. The air was slowly beginning to clear but the smoke was still fairly thick. Trying to once again use his Legilimency skills, Harry opened his mind and reached out, not even sure what he was looking for.

Pain, intense pain. Harry stumbled and tried to walk in the direction the feelings were coming from. He kept the connection open for as long as he could until the nausea became too much and he retched. He quickly righted himself and moved toward what he could now make out was a person lying on the ground. It was Remus!

"Moony!" Harry cried, flinging himself down next to his fallen friend and ignoring the shooting pain in his leg as he did so. Remus was incredibly pale and Harry could distinguish burn marks in the shape of fingerprints around his neck.

He shook him gently but as he got no response, he began to shake him harder and harder. "Wake up Moony, don't you dare leave me now! You promised! You promised Sirius and I'm not letting you off that easily. Please wake up, don't you die on me!"

Harry knew he was close to tears but didn't care. He heard Remus emit a very faint but definite groan and to Harry, it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. As Remus groaned again, Harry's tears did begin to fall, but they were mixed with laughter. "You're okay Moony, just hang on. We'll get you to St. Mungo's and you'll be okay!"

Remus' eyes opened tiredly and Harry could see they were full of pain. "Harry," he whispered.

"Shhh, you're okay Moony. The Order is here now, we'll get you some help."

"Are you all right?" Remus' voice was weak and Harry found it incredible that after everything that had happened to Remus, he was asking him if he was all right?

"I'm fine Moony, it's you I'm worried about. Damned Wormtail got away!" Harry spat furiously.

Remus ignored him, "You're bleeding."

"Just some cuts," Harry answered, dismissing the concern. Remus' eyes were fluttering and his breath was becoming more and more labored. "Just hang on, okay?"

Remus swallowed heavily and his eyes sought out Harry's once again, "Listen to me Harry—"

"No!" Harry interrupted, fear gripping his heart over what Remus was going to say. "You rest now, until we can get help."

"Listen to me Harry," he repeated firmly and Harry bit hard on his lip. "Whatever happens, you are going to be okay. You can do this. Don't keep pushing everyone away, their love for you that gives you strength. Your parents loved you. Sirius loved you. And I love you too, Harry. Whatever happens, don't give up."

"DON'T YOU GIVE UP!" Harry screamed at him. "Don't you even dare say goodbye to me Moony because I won't do it! I won't forgive you if you die on me! You fight! Fight with every thing you have in you!"

"Harry!"

He jumped and looked up startled at the face of Professor Dumbledore walking up beside him with Mr. Weasley.

"Help him!" he pleaded with the Headmaster. If anyone could save him, surely Dumbledore could?

Dumbledore knelt down next to Remus and raised his hands above him. "Take it easy Remus, we're going to get you some help," he whispered gently. Picking up a rock from the ground, he muttered, "Portus."

Turning to Harry and Arthur he said, "Arthur, I'm going to take Remus directly to St. Mungo's right now. I need you to get Harry safely back to Grimmauld Place straight away."

"NO!" Harry shouted, he knew he sounded hysterical but didn't care, he wasn't leaving Remus. "I want to stay with him."

"I know you do Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "But right now, we have to take care of the injured and don't have time for the distraction your presence would cause. I'm sorry Harry, I know you're worried. Madam Pomfrey is at Grimmauld Place and she can tend to your injuries. I promise to bring you word as soon as I know anything."

Harry swallowed against the lump in his throat and conceded quietly. Dumbledore was right, they didn't need the chaos that would ensue having Harry Potter in the emergency ward. He also wouldn't want to have anyone wasting time guarding him when they could be better used elsewhere.

"Take good care of him," he whispered as Remus and Dumbledore disappeared. Harry suddenly felt overwhelmingly exhausted. All the adrenaline that had been fueling him suddenly evaporated and he sagged to the ground. He was numbly aware of Mr. Weasley putting his arm beneath Harry's and raising him to his feet.

"Come on son, lean on me," he said as they began to slowly make their way back to where the Burrow had once stood. Harry could hear lots of voices and noises now but only dimly registered them. Truthfully, he couldn't make out much more than the distant ringing in his ears. He stumbled several times, but Mrs. Weasley managed to keep him on his feet.

Up close, the damage was immense. A few wooden beams still stood erect, lonely figures amongst the mass of ruins around them. Pieces of furniture and bits of cloth were scattered everywhere. In the center of where the kitchen should have been, Harry could make out the shattered remains of the Weasley family clock.

He stared at it in a daze and couldn't understand why he didn't feel anything. Surely this should make him sad, or angry, or something! In truth, he only felt the numbness.

Mr. Weasley walked him over to where Tonks was standing and she rushed over to meet them, her face pulled taut with concern. She wore a velvet dress and her hair was short and blonde. Harry had never seen her looking sonormal. He knew she'd been at dinner with her family and he was suddenly struck by her resemblance to Draco Malfoy. She helped Mr. Weasley lower Harry to the ground and asked fearfully, "Remus?"

"Dumbledore brought him to St. Mungo's already," Mr. Weasley answered gravely. "Stay with Harry for a minute while I grab a Portkey back to Grimmauld Place and then you can join them at the hospital."

"Sure," Tonks said, sitting down next to Harry. "Molly and the other kids already went back."

"What about George?" Mr. Weasley asked seriously.

Tonks swallowed, "They sent him to St. Mungo's along with Kingsley, the Dursleys, and Mr. Granger. We also sent four of the Death Eaters to the Ministry."

Mr. Weasley nodded solemnly as he went to get the Portkey.

Harry sat there blinking at the ruins, wondering what happened to George but unable to muster enough energy to ask. Tonks was sniffling beside him and he glanced over in time to see the first tear drops start to fall. He gently placed a hand on top of hers and she grasped it firmly.

"He's strong, Harry. He'll get through this, you'll see," she smiled through her tears. He wasn't sure which of them she was trying to convince.

Mr. Weasley returned with a small gold key and placed in Harry's palm as he pulled him to his feet. "Just close your hand around it Harry."

He did, and instantly felt the familiar pull behind his navel hurtling him through time and space into the Entrance Hall of Grimmauld Place. Harry's knees buckled upon impact and he fell right over onto the floor, barely getting his arms in front of him to break his fall.

Mrs. Weasley was by his side in an instant. "Oh Thank Merlin," she cried as she wrapped her arms around him. She was covered in dust and dirt and her voice held a frantic note of panic.

He heard both Ron and Ginny's voices but couldn't see them in the dim light. Why was it so dark in here? It was freezing cold too, he felt his body start to shiver. Madam Pomfrey made them all stand back as she began looking him over, grunting at the sight of his leg. Her fingers ran through the back of his hair and he hissed in pain as she reached the lump that was there. He'd forgotten his head had been bleeding when he woke up.

He could see Ginny's pale face now; she was crying. She was covered in cuts and bruises and he could see a thick, jelly-like ointment covering her bare arm and what looked like the remains of a burn.

Ron was next to her and didn't look much better. His eyes were also red rimmed and he was wearing a sling. The side of his face looked like it was forming a massive bruise. Both of them were talking to him as he continued to stare, he just couldn't make his mind focus on what they were saying.

He heard Madam Pomfrey hiss, "He's in shock," but he didn't know whom she was talking about. She forced a cup of a purple liquid into his hands and ordered him to drink it. Tipping the cup back, he swallowed the contents and was asleep without even being aware of Mrs. Weasley gently lowering his head to the floor.

Hermione sat alone in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place sipping a cup of tea, her mind stuck at the Burrow reliving over and over the events of the afternoon. Her mother was asleep upstairs, the Dreamless Sleep Potion that Madam Pomfrey had given both of them apparently had a much stronger effect on Muggles. Hermione had woken a little while ago and came down to make her tea while her mother slept on.

The rest of the house was quiet and she assumed they were all sleeping, either on their own or knocked out by Madam Pomfrey. She was desperate to know her father's condition and decided the kitchen was always the first stop of everyone who came through the house, so here she would wait.

Hermione had been inside the Burrow when the Death Eaters arrived. Harry had run out after the Dursleys and Mr. Weasley was watching from the door. They had all followed him into the yard when the Death Eaters appeared. She'd tried to get both her parent's to stay down and out of the way but her dad got hit with a curse anyway. Hermione still wasn't even sure what they had got him with. She could just envision him falling to the ground over and over in her head like some bad movie.

She was overwhelmed with guilt. Her parents had just wanted her to come home, they just wanted to see her. She'd spent so little time with them these past two years and they wanted a family Christmas. They'd agreed to go to the Burrow on her urging, knowing how much she wanted to be with her friends.

She knew the risks she was putting them in by being there and she'd accepted those risks. But she'd never fully clued her parents in to what was really happening. She was afraid if they knew everything they would try and pull her out of Hogwarts. They were Muggles and of course would be high-profile targets. What was she thinking?

Hermione was well aware of the irony of the situation she found herself in. For years she had been exasperated with Harry's constantly taking the blame for anything bad that happened. He felt guilty if someone caught a cold! She'd always given him such a hard time about it. Of course, watching the guilt trip his relatives had heaped on him at dinner, she could better understand how he got that way.

This thing now with her dad gave her a whole new appreciation of how Harry spent his life. Despite all the knowledge in the world that it was the Death Eaters that did this, no amount of logic could overpower the guilt. It was overwhelming and it consumed her completely. How did Harry cope with this every day?

They'd been told Lupin was seriously wounded with silver poisoning and she wondered what was happening with him. Harry couldn't handle another loss right now and she knew when he woke up, he'd sit here and commiserate with her over the guilt. She was sure he'd be feeling it too.

Then there was the Burrow. She couldn't believe it was gone! She'd watched in horror as the walls came tumbling down. She and Ron had clung to each other as they watched the flames burn the only home Ron had ever known. In truth, it had been a home to her as well. She was sure that after she was positive her dad would be okay, she'd grieve with Ron over the loss of his home.

George Weasley had been taken down early by a slicing curse, the same one they had hit Harry's Aunt Petunia with. She and Ron had watched in horror as Fred battled fiercely with the Death Eater who had struck his twin down, eventually stunning the man. She remembered seeing him still lying on the ground when the Burrow exploded.

Kingsley Shacklebolt, who had arrived with Charlie and the rest of the Order, was pinned underneath a huge pile of rubble. She'd seen them digging him out as they transported she, Ron, Ginny and her mum back to headquarters. Ginny had been screaming about not knowing where Harry was but no one listened. They wanted them out of the way, and promised to send Harry along quickly.

Harry. Never mind everything else that had happened after the Death Eaters arrived; there was still his horrid family to consider. What would happen to Harry now? She couldn't imagine Dumbledore letting him go back to those people, not after what they had all witnessed. Their friend had been keeping more from them than she'd ever imagined.

She and Ron had watched Harry fighting the Death Eaters with awe and amazement. Where had he learned to fight like that? They knew he could take care of himself, he'd proved that time and time again, but this was something else. This was more than just magic, Harry was using Martial Arts that looked fairly advanced. Hermione didn't even know he was aware of any of that.

She knew that there was more going on with Harry than he was telling these past few months. It was obvious he was still keeping things from them and she was fairly certain it had to do with the Prophecy from the Department of Mysteries. Hermione always enjoyed a good mystery and thrived on figuring something out. She should have set her mind to figuring this out long ago but had held back.

Harry told her over the summer he wasn't ready to talk and she knew from vast experience that pushing him only made him retreat further. Still, she could have had the answers by now if she'd really wanted them. And that was the heart of it. Somehow, she suspected that whatever Harry was hiding was something she really didn't want to know. That would have to change. Harry was going to have to do some talking, whether he wanted to or not.

As long as Remus livedIf Harry lost Remus tooShe really wasn't sure he would survive that. Hermione took another sip of her tea and glanced yet again at the door, hoping for some sign of life that could tell her what was going on.

When Harry awoke some time later he could hear Ron's snores coming from the bed on the other side of the room. It was pitch black but he assumed they were in their own room at Grimmauld Place. He lay there for a moment trying to piece together everything that happened with a feeling of dread growing in his belly. He had to find out how Moony was doing.

He sat up groggily and for the first time in his life didn't immediately reach for his glasses. He didn't think he really wanted to see anything in focus right now. Happy Christmas, he thought bitterly. He needed to go downstairs to see if there was any news on Remus or the others. He vaguely recollected hearing that something had happened to George. Hermione hadn't been there when he arrived, or at least he hadn't seen her. He hoped her father was okay.

He wondered about the Dursleys too. Mr. Weasley said Aunt Petunia would be okay, but stillthey must be so panicked being in a Wizard Hospital. He had no great affection for his relatives, but they didn't deserve this. He may wish he'd never have to see them again, but he wanted them alive while he lived his life elsewhere.

Ginny's tear-stained face swam in his head and he realized how badly he wanted to see her and make sure she was okay. He didn't even want to think about the Burrow, he couldn't imagine how Ron and Ginny must feel. Sighing, he put the glasses on and slowly stood up, feeling a spasm of pain course through his leg. It was stiff so he shook it out a bit, trying to loosen his muscles. He wrapped his dressing gown over his pajamas and limped into the hall.

He stopped a minute outside Ginny's door and put a hand on it. She'd probably be sleeping and he shouldn't disturb her. Still, he couldn't deny that he wanted to. Things always seemedbetter when she was around. He kept walking, glancing into the Drawing Room but it was empty. He found he had to concentrate very hard on simply putting one foot in front of the other. He felt like his whole world was built from a shaky deck of cards caught in a windstorm, one wrong move and the whole thing was ready to come crashing down.

He continued heading towards the kitchen, his heart beating harder with each step. Surely they would have told him ifNo, he was okay. St. Mungo's was probably very crowded. Dumbledore had said something about multiple attacks that day. He reached the door to the kitchen and could see a light shining underneath. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open to find Hermione sitting there alone sipping a cup of tea.

"Harry!" she got up and ran towards him, wrapping him in a tight embrace. "Are you all right? You're limping?"

He patted her on the back and gently eased her back towards her seat before sitting down himself. "I'm okay. We're is everyone? How's your dad?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "I don't know. Everyone is asleep, I'm waiting for someone to come in with some news. Madam Pomfrey gave my mom and I a sleeping draught when we arrived."

"Yeah, I think she gave me one too. I'm not real clear on anything that happened after I got here."

Hermione poured him a cup of tea and pushed it towards him. "Chocolate Frog?" she asked, holding up one of several in front of her.

Harry wasn't hungry and declined as he sipped his tea. "What time is it?"

"I'm not sure, well after midnight. Someone should have been here with some news by now. It's just—" Hermione's voice broke off as she stared at her open Chocolate Frog. She had a stunned expression on her face that caused Harry some concern.

"Hermione, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

Hermione shook her head and closed the card in her hand, "What? Oh, sorry I'm fine."

She seemed nervous and he held out his hand, "Give me the card Hermione."

"It's nothing, Harry. I don't think—" she was interrupted again as he reached over and snatched the card from her hand. He sat in stunned disbelief looking at the image of himself on a Chocolate Frog card. The picture must have been taken some time during the Tri-Wizard tournament, he couldn't believe how young he looked. And really short! It seemed like both just yesterday and another lifetime ago. Harry felt like a few of the cards on his carefully constructed house just toppled over.

Why would they ever put his picture on a Chocolate Frog card? He read the bio about the Boy-Who-Lived and how he defeated Voldemort as a baby and tried to warn everyone of his return but no one believed him for nearly a year. All the references to his being a hero made him bitter and angry. Harry felt the anger he hadn't felt in a while well up inside him and viciously tossed the card across the table.

"Harry," Hermione began tentatively. "People need heroes to believe in. They need something positive to counterbalance the dark and you fit the bill. You have to admit, your life hasn't exactly been ordinary!"

"But I'm not a hero Hermione! I never asked for any of this and I most certainly don't want it! I don't know why they continue to make me out like a hero when all I do is get people killed! I don't even notice half the stuff that's going on with other people around me!"

"You haven't gotten anyone killed Harry, when are you going to get that through your thick skull? You are a hero whether you see it or not. You're a real-life hero to people, not a storybook one where the chapter ends and you never have to see the hero coping with the consequences. Other Wizards would lay down and give up or become bitter like Malfoy or Snape if they ever had to face half of what you've been through. But you did it, and you still go on. That's what makes you a hero."

Harry sat there looking at her in amazement, why didn't she see? He was trouble, he brought trouble to everyone around him. It followed him everywhere he went and it more than likely would end up getting her killed. That wasn't what a hero was supposed to do!

He was growing angry with her but didn't want to fight when both of their emotions were so raw. He was about to get up and leave when the door swung open and Fred walked in, looking tired and weary, and like half of him was missing. Harry supposed it was.

"Fred! How's George?" Harry asked.

"I dunno, I was about to ask you the same thing. Madam Pomfrey gave me a sleeping draught and I just woke up. Where is everybody?"

"Seems Madam Pomfrey was pretty liberal with the sleeping draughts. We're the only ones awake so far," Hermione commented dryly.

Before the words were completely out of her mouth, they heard the front door open and all three hurried out into the Entrance Hall to greet Mr. Weasley and Moody. Both looked wiped out and ready to collapse on their feet.

"Dad!" Fred exclaimed, grasping his father's arm and leading him to a chair, "How's George?"

Moody sunk down into a chair next to him while Harry and Hermione sat opposite, staring anxiously and waiting for answers.

"George has a long recovery ahead of him. He'll be laid up a while, but he will recover. You can see him tomorrow, just know he's still pretty out of it." Mr. Weasley's voice was weary, but the sound of relief was unmistakable.

"Your father is being released in the morning, Hermione," Moody assured her. "They wanted to keep him overnight for observation but he's going to be fine. They want to know about obliviating him?"

"No. My parents know about magic already, they don't need to do that," Hermione answered firmly.

"That's what I thought you'd say, but we had to ask." Mr. Weasley smiled. "Harry, they want to know about doing the same to the Dursleys. They'll probably release your aunt tomorrow as well. I don't think they can be rid of her soon enough. They've pretty much kept your uncle and cousin stunned to contain them."

Harry put his hand to his forehead and his brow furrowed in concentration. The Dursley's would actually be better off not remembering any of the events that happened today. They hated magic with a passion and this would only fuel that, they'd be better off not knowing. "Yeah, go ahead and use a memory charm. It's probably for the best."

Mr. Weasley nodded, "That's what Albus said, but it's your decision to make."

Harry nodded and gave the go ahead. He was growing alarmed, they hadn't said anything about Remus and mentally he began preparing himself. He gripped into his own thighs, not even noticing as his nails dug into the skin.

"Shacklebolt will be laid up for a few day, but he's going to make a full recovery. He'll be off duty at the Ministry for a while." Moody supplied. The room waited with baited breath through an awkward silence.

"Is he dead?" Harry asked hollowly, causing Mr. Weasley to flinch. Hermione instantly put her hand on Harry's back but he stiffened and shook her off.

No, no no!" Mr. Weasley assured him. "He's alive Harry, but he's not in good shape. The silver poisoning was extensive but it never pierced his skin so he has a chance. They're working to get all the poison from his system and replacing his blood, but it's slow going and they still don't know for sure. It's going to be touch and go for a while. I'm sorry I don't have better news for you."

Harry nodded woodenly and got up to leave. He was still alive, there was still a chance. He didn't want to allow that hope to bloom, it would be easier to just expect the worse. Harry quietly mounted the stairs and left the room. No one said anything but he could feel all their eyes on his back as he ascended. He reached the door to his bedroom but stopped, his hand hovering just above the doorknob.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly he turned and stepped across the hall. It wasn't in his power to control his actions, it was like blind instinct. He needed her. He quietly opened the door to her room and slipped inside, shutting the latch gently and gingerly moving towards the sleeping figure on the bed.

She was sleeping peacefully, he could see the gentle rise and fall of her chest and the fluttering movement of her eyes behind the lids. Madam Pomfrey must have gotten to her too, he thought wryly. He didn't have the heart to wake her. He stood over her for a minute and gently rubbed his knuckles over the soft, warm skin of her face. She sighed in contentment causing a ghost of a smile to appear on Harry's lips. He kept his fingers there for a few minutes, shutting his eyes and basking in the warmth of her skin.

He didn't want to wake her, but he didn't want to leave her either. His eyes raked over Hermione's still made up bed and assumed his friend was sleeping in with her mother. Harry pulled the covers back and crawled in, lying on his side and adjusting the pillow so he could stare at Ginny's sleeping face. He couldn't be sure how long he stayed there, the events of the day playing over and over in his mind. Eventually the exhaustion caught up to him again and he quietly tiptoed back to his own room, letting the gentle tide of sleep finally claim him.

A/N: I'd like to return the favor and give a call out to one of my faithful reviewers, Greywind. Check out Greywind's story The Reaper's Lesson for some great intrigue and plot twists. It's a fun story and I recommend it, I've been following it for a long time now!