AN: Sorry for the lateness on this! Between catching up on emails and stories I had on alert, and then having to change my schedule a bit to help out my mom; I've been mighty busy. But here it is! I'll try to have Chapter 22 up within two weeks. Its already typed up, I just have to go over it again to correct any mistakes.
Chapter 21: Visits, Arguments and Reconciliations, and The Mission
April 1
Harry, Ron and Hermione were heading from the castle to the Shrieking Shack to meet up with Remus Lupin. Harry had received a letter the day before during breakfast from the man asking the three to meet him there. Harry hadn't seen the man since that one time during the summer, and wasn't really sure how he felt about it. It wasn't that he didn't want to see Remus; it was just that he wasn't sure about the visit. But all in all he did feel a bit happy to see him.
They made it to the Shrieking Shack by the front entrance instead of the Whomping Willow and trekked into the place. Harry felt a brief, tight clenching in his chest, and had to breathe deeply as the momentary lost of breath hit him before leaving him with a slightly hollow feeling. This was the first place he had seen Sirius whole and human and not in a paper, and the place where he discovered the truth about his parents deaths aside from the well-known facts. Breathing deeply, he swallowed thickly, and ignored the stares from his friends that he could feel burning into him. He hadn't thought it would be this bad when he had found where they were meeting. He hadn't thought it would feel this way, honestly, and he was kicking himself mentally for thinking that way.
"Harry?" Hermione's quiet voice spoke, but he heard it distantly, as if through a tunnel. He was spiraling into that dark, cold place he hadn't been in for so long. He could feel the icy fingers of despair clutching his heart and he gasped out a quiet breath, stumbling against the nearest wall. And all he could see was Sirius, his mouth open in surprise, eyes wide and the laughter not quite gone from them, body arching gracefully as he fell back, back, back through –
"Harry!" a shout, and shaking, brought him back from the edge of – he didn't want to think about it, didn't know really, and was glad for the distraction. He opened his eyes – when had they closed? – and looked into worried brown, amber and blue eyes. He swallowed again, vaguely appalled at his near breakdown in front of Hermione, Remus and Ron, and averted his eyes. With a few long, deep breaths he was slowly calming down, slowly coming back to himself.
"Harry, are you alright?" Remus asked looking at him with concern. Harry didn't trust himself to speak so he nodded his head, still feeling cold, but otherwise back to normal. He was feeling slightly drained and a bit hollow too, but tried not to show it. "Are you sure, you kind of seemed far away there?"
"Yes," Harry croaked, then cleared his throat. "Yes I'm sure, Remus, nothing's wrong. I just...was remembering third year is all and how things have changed since then." Harry said looking at the man with a small smile. It was the truth mostly. Remus looked at him intensely, but nodded his head, and squeezed his shoulder. There was a strained look to the man's face, a tightening of the skin around the eyes and mouth. Harry looked to his friends and nodded to them in reassurance. They didn't look too convinced, but said nothing to him.
"Let's go up to the room and sit down." The four made their way to the room, and Harry fought back the memories with an ironclad control. Chairs had already been conjured for them, and they sat down. Remus pulled up a box and pulled out a Butterbeer for all of them, handing one to each, and keeping one for himself. "So, how are things going with you three? Anything new?"
The three smiled at each other, though there was still a bit of concern in everyone's eyes for Harry, and launched into a description of the day before and their prank. They explained all the preparation they went through for the prank, everything they did and then how lunch had played out. Remus was laughing by the end of it, holding his sides with eyes bright with tears of mirth.
"You should have seen Snape's face!" Ron exclaimed through bouts of choked laughter. "His face was almost as red as the hair color itself." Ron smiled gleefully.
"McGonagall's was great too, with that green and silver hair; she looked so appalled, but I think the colors suited her nicely," Harry smirked. "See, we each picked a person and I chose McGonagall, Dumbledore and Devington while Ron took Pomfrey and Snape. We decided making his hair our House colors would really irritate him. Hermione took Sinistra, Flitwick and Vector, and Ginny took Hooch and Sprout."
"Well," Remus said, chuckling a bit still and shaking his head. "That sounds like it made quite the sight, especially your own hair." He smiled a bit wistfully at Harry. He hesitated a moment, Harry noticed, before speaking. "I...think, no, I know your dad and...Sirius would've been proud being the pranksters they were," he said softly, but firmly, his smile sad and warm, and comforting all at once.
Harry closed his eyes as emotions ran rampantly through him. It made his chest tighten to hear that, and for two different reasons. It was good to know that his father and Sirius would be proud to see him pulling pranks on people like they had, but it made him uncomfortable also. After viewing Snape's pensieve the year before he had felt mixed feelings about adding Snape into the prank. On the one hand it would be nice to get a little of his own back for all the man's bad treatment towards him, but on the other it had reminded him too much of what he saw his father do in the pensieve, and he hadn't fully gotten over the idea of his father as a bully. In the end he had decided to go through with it. It was to be funny, yes, and a bit embarrassing, but he had decided no where near as degrading as his father's had been. Besides, it wasn't his fault Snape had no sense of humor.
Sighing he opened his eyes to see Remus staring at him worriedly and just nodded his head, smiling weakly. There were just too many emotional things occurring that day. Let them come to their own conclusions, he decided, because there was no use explaining the twisted logic of my mind that they will only try to comfort away with platitudes that will most likely make me angry in the end. He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt and just as he saw Remus open his mouth he blurted, "So what have you been up to?"
Remus closed his mouth and frowned, and looked at him intently for a moment that made him slightly uncomfortable, before speaking. "I've been doing a bit of business for the Order, but I can't really say what. Sorry," Remus said apologetically. Silence descended after that, mostly comfortable at first, before turning tense and awkward.
"Harry, Ron and I are going to head back, why don't you spend some time talking to Remus?" Hermione said casually with a small smile. And Harry would have fallen for it if he didn't realize what Hermione was doing. She was going to leave him and Remus alone hoping to get them to talk about Sirius. He felt slightly agitated with her and glared, which she averted her eyes to and ignored as she grabbed Ron's hand and stood up. "We'll see you back at the Tower, alright? It was nice seeing you again, Remus."
"Yeah, it was great spending time with you," Ron said looking a bit confused.
"It was nice to see you two again as well," Remus replied, and with waves and smiles to both the two left the room. Remus turned back to him and looked at him with a small frown. "How have you really been, Harry?" he asked softly.
Harry took a deep breath – he was doing that a lot today – and shoved his irritation down. "I've been fine, like I said."
"You don't have to be strong all the time," Remus said in that same soft tone. Harry gritted his teeth and fought to control his temper.
"I'm not being strong Remus, I'm really fine. I'm getting on just fine," Harry said trying for a reassuring tone and sound slightly irritated instead. Remus sighed quietly and leaned over to lay a hand on Harry's.
"Harry don't be upset, but Hermione wrote me a letter about a month ago stating some concerns she had about you. It was very detailed in what she wanted to express. She had written that you had been closed off and distant most of the year, and that you'd become highly agitated whenever she tried to talk to you, especially about..." Remus trailed off, and looked at him closely.
Harry had tensed at the words 'Hermione' and 'letter' in the same sentence, knowing nothing good could follow those words. As he listened to the man he felt himself flushing in anger at the audacity of his supposed best friend. He understood her concern and worry about him, and he didn't begrudge her those feelings. But he didn't like that she went behind his back when he obviously didn't want to talk about these things. He snatched his hand away from the others and stood from his chair, knocking it back harshly. He glared at nothing in particular before turning his intense gaze on Remus. "Bloody nosy, annoying –" he broke off as he began to pace. "She had no right to do that! I didn't want to talk about it because I'd rather deal wit it on my own. Stupid bloody Hermione," Harry ranted, switching to parseltongue, only half-aware of it. He saw Remus's eyes widen, before he turned to pace the other way.
"She wrote asking you to come and talk to me, and you decided Easter break was just a smashing time!" He rounded on the man and glared at him.
"The letter gave me concern Harry," Remus responded calmly. "Your responses to my letters this past summer stated that you were "getting on fine" and that you were "grieving and sad, but you'd be fine" and although I was skeptical at first I began to think that maybe you really WERE fine. Then I received Hermione's letter and it didn't sound like you were as fine as you'd said."
"So, what, I'm not allowed to be by myself when I want to? I'm not allowed to grieve in peace; I have to have everyone looking after me?" Harry spat, angry, and hurt, and frustrated about the whole thing.
Remus looked at him sadly, but made no move to reach out to him. "It's not that at all," he said. "You have people who care about you and are worried about you, Harry! We just want to be there for you."
Harry gave a short derisive laugh, head thrown back and arms spread wide. The tone of the laugh had a bit of hysteria behind it making it sound sharper and louder. "I had no one growing up, no one; until I was eleven years old I only had myself. I've learned to get by my own way – on my own! You all want to "be there for me,"" he sneered, lip curled upwards. "Then leave me alone, and let me deal on my own like I always have!"
Remus stared at him wide-eyed as he breathed heavily, feeling his face hot with anger. "Harry, we just want to help you if you're have a hard time dealing with..." the man trailed off and looked unsure. "anything." Remus finished quietly.
Harry breathed out slowly through his nose trying to release a bit of his tension and anger. He really did understand what Remus was saying, but no one seemed to understand things the other way around – from HIS perspective. "I understand Remus, really I do." Harry said his voice tight and strained with calmness he really wasn't feeling. "But what you, Hermione, Ron and others have to understand is that I do something better on my own. If you pressure and back me into a corner I'm only going to become angry and defensive. I mean, don't you have ways of dealing with things yourself?" Harry asked, looking at the man intently. He conveniently ignored the fact that his ways of dealing sometimes involved a sharp blade.
Remus looked back at Harry for a long moment and then sighed, nodding his head. "I like to go off and be alone, someplace peaceful, where I can think, and let myself figure things out on my own. It usually helps clear my mind." Harry gave the man a small smile at this.
"See, you have your way of dealing with things as everyone does, and I have my own. It's a way that works for me," Harry said, standing still and looking Remus in the eye.
Remus nodded returning the small smile. "Hermione just sounded so worried in her letter. The way she described your behavior made it sound like you weren't doing so well. I was concerned."
"Thanks," Harry said and unclenched his fists. He was definitely angry with Hermione. "I know she was only trying to help, but still."
"Have you tried explaining what you said to me to your friends?" Remus asked, beckoning Harry to sit again. He did, and looked at Remus with a wry smile.
"Probably not the best ways possible, but yeah I have," he sighed and shook his head.
"Well maybe if you try to explain it to them calmly...? And don't be too angry with Hermione, she was just worried about you." Remus said. Harry nodded, but otherwise ignored what was said about Hermione. Oh he was definitely angry with her. Bloody girl just couldn't mind her business.
"I should probably head back now. It was great seeing you though, all things considered." He stood from his chair, and gave the man a smile. It was true even with all that was discussed it had been great to see the man again. Remus stood also and smile back at him.
"Same here Harry. Take care of yourself, okay, and write me if you need anything, anything at all."
"I will," Harry replied simply. They shared a brief hug before Harry turned and made his way from the room. Remus had made him feel a bit better and while he wasn't as angry as before he was still pretty upset at Hermione. He made his way back to the castle quickly, the fading light of afternoon testament to the time of day it was. When he walked through the portrait Hermione was no where to be seen, though Ron was sitting at a table playing chess with Ginny. "Where's Hermione?" he asked leaning against Ron's chair.
"Uh, library, she said she was going there, and that she'd be back in time for dinner," Ron said absently, obviously focused on the game. Harry nodded and rose to get his own seat for the time being. He sat back to watch the game, deciding he could deal with Hermione later.
After making it to his secret quarters safely and undetected, then stalking through to the library and hissing the password to Seraphina unintentionally harshly, he was now secluded in what he had deemed his 'training room' glaring at the wall opposite the entrance. After dinner he had confronted Hermione, and the situation had quickly spiraled out of control. They had yelled at each other, said things that had left the other hurting and angry, and then each had stormed away. He had waited until it was a little later, tense and frustrated, and then gathered his things and left for his secret rooms. Parts of the argument rang in his head, viciously mocking him, and enflaming his already heated anger.
Flashback
"You had no right to do that Hermione! I told you to let me deal on my own, but you just had to butt your nose into it, didn't you?" Harry snarled, glaring at the girl. They were standing in the middle of the common room that was filled with their housemates who were all staring at them avidly.
"It was for your own good! Harry, you needed to talk to someone, and I figured Remus would be the best choice since you shared a common bond. You had shared grief there, and I thought I would write to him, let him know, and see if he could help!" Hermione yelled back, breathing heavily and glaring just as fiercely.
"For my own good? Do I look like a bloody child to you Hermione? Because I'm not! Stop mothering me, your fucking annoying about it. My mother happens to be DEAD if you've forgotten, and I surely don't need one now when I haven't had one for the last bloody sixteen years!" Harry screamed back. The common room, already silent from the start, felt even more so after this statement. Harry noticed Hermione looking at him shocked, face flushed red, but Harry was too angry, too far gone at this point.
"That's right Hermione, she's dead. Stop trying to fill the part because you can't and I don't want you to. I'm not a child," Harry spat.
"I don't think you are," Hermione said, quieter than before. "But the way you have been acting calls to attention the fact that you've been acting like one. All these tantrums when all I wanted to do was help make it seem like you ARE a child." She aid quietly, but firmly. "I was just being a friend."
Harry stared at her, face hard and eyes guarded. Then, he said quietly though it rang through the silent room as if he'd shouted it, "Then maybe we shouldn't be friends." The look on her face was of shock and hurt at these words. The silence of the common room was harsh compared to the yelling that had took place before, but the look in Hermione's eyes spoke volumes.
End Flashback
After that he had turned and left the room headed for the dorm and warded the curtains to his bed. He ignored Ron's feeble attempts to get him to talk, ignored everything until the redhead had given up. Now he stood, glaring at the wall angry and hurt; angry at Hermione, angry at himself and just generally angry. Taking a deep breath he let it out slowly and lifted his hand, palm up, and intoned calmly: "Incendio."
There was a large burst of flames over his palm, but not a ball of flame. A few sparks burned his fingers and palm, but the brief starbursts of pain did clear his mind a bit. Clenching his other hand, he breathed out again and said the spell more firmly and commandingly. "Incendio!" He pushed his magic into his palm, focusing on that point. There was another burst of fire, and then he felt his palm heating up, but not uncomfortably so. He watched as the small spark ignited into a palm-size fireball and hovered inches above the palm of his right hand, casting a warm heat to it.
As the ball of flame hovered there inches above the skin, his anger seemed to burn away, like the flame was burning it away. It wasn't all of it by any means, but a majority seemed to just die as the flame burned, leaving behind hurt and a coldness that seemed to purposely defy the hot flame. As the muscles of his arms flexed, he could feel the cuts –new and fresh and raw – stretch and sting. He could feel the other wound – and abrasive lightning bolt cut, about three or four inches long – that he made in a moment of despair, before stopping the blood and lightly healing it. He had wanted the scar to remain as he had with his other scars. He extinguished the flame by focusing on making it recede, and die out, picturing it in his head. After it was gone, he sighed, and fell to the floor.
He hadn't meant what he had said to Hermione, it had just been the first thing to come to mind, and he said it without thought. He had just been so angry with her nosy behavior and her obsessive concern that he had blurted out the first thing that came to mind with her last sentence. And he regretted now that he had had time to think it all out. Ignoring the sting and burn of his cuts, he pushed himself to stand. He decided to concentrate on his self-training and let his emotions work towards that. He would talk to Hermione tomorrow, and try to smooth things over. He didn't want to lose her friendship because of his snappy moods. So, squaring his shoulder and breathing deeply, he raised his hands, and started again more determinedly.
April 2
Like any other thing that spurred the gossip mill on, Harry and Hermione's argument was around the school the next day fairly early. He ignored the stares at breakfast, more concerned with talking to Hermione who never showed up for breakfast. Ron was awkward and uncomfortable around him, not wanting to choose between them, he had said, and not wanting to anger him, Harry knew. Half of Gryffindor was uncomfortable around him that morning. According to another girl a year below them, Hermione had left that morning for breakfast, but apparently never showed up. Harry decided to check the library after breakfast. Walking there now he tried to decide what he would say to the girl; something to fix the damage done, and hopefully not aggravate the situation further. He just had to try and keep his temper under control.
Reaching the library he took a deep, steadying breath, grasped the doorknob and swung it open, stepping inside. He immediately began searching for that familiar bushy brown hair, but saw it nowhere. He walked in further, and then saw what he was looking for in a far corner of the room. There were stacks upon stack of books piled high, but not high enough to hide the brown hair that he knew belonged to Hermione Granger. He headed towards the table, and sighed softly, sitting across from her. There was a long moment of silence as he looked at her, or rather the back of the book she held.
"Hermione?" he said quietly at last, breaking the long tense silence. There was nothing but quiet for another moment, and just when Harry thought she wasn't going to talk to him he heard a quiet, "yes?" from behind the book.
"I'm sorry," he said just as quietly. He knew it was barely adequate compared to the argument they'd had, but it was all he could think of. He watched the back of the book until Hermione lowered and looked at him, brown eyes sad.
"I'm sorry too," she whispered. "It's just that it feels like you're slipping away from us; all the secrets, all the need to be alone. If you're struggling, I just want to help, but you won't let me, or Ron. I felt a bit useless with all my failed attempts previously so I turned to the only other person I could think of. Why won't you let someone help you if you're not doing okay?"
He sighed, and looked away from her, his eyes fixing on a book to his left, sighed again, and looked back. Where to start? What to say? "Hermione, I'm used to dealing with things on my own, always have been and, though I appreciate your concern for me, I want to – need to – help myself deal with it all. You cornering me and demanding I open up and spill everything wrong with me, it only makes me upset. Even though I know its not, it makes me think that you and Ron think I can't do anything on my own, to cope on my own. You can offer a chance to talk when I'm ready, but pressuring me isn't going to help. Do you think you could just back off and let me deal on my own, and I'll come to you or Ron when – and if – I need to?" he finished, looking at her closely. He had kept his voice low and calm, determined not to blow up and start another yelling match.
Hermione looked at him closely for a long time in silence, eyes searching his. Harry looked back, waiting. Finally she sighed. "I was just trying to help Harry. I thought...maybe you weren't as alright as you said, and just didn't want to tell us. I never thought it could just be your way of dealing. I've know you for six year and yet, I haven't fully realized this until we've shouted horrible things at each other. What kind of friend am I?"
"A good one," he said simply, because it was the truth.
"I guess, but I still almost drove you away. I will let you deal with things on your own Harry," she said, and reached a hand across the table to touch his. "Just know that Ron and I are here when you need us." She gave him a small smile which he returned.
"Of course Hermione. So, are we okay now?" he asked. Hermione nodded and smile warmly, and Harry knew that things were okay, if not back to normal for now.
Draco stood on the balcony of his room staring into the black night sky with vacant eyes. It wasn't the first time since he'd been home for break that he'd done this. This, though, had been far worse than Draco could've ever predicted it to be. He absently scratched at an old concealed cut on his arm, as his gaze roamed the sky. He watched the stars twinkle brightly against the black background, and wished the nauseous feeling that had tormented him for three days would go away.
He had expected the extensive talks about his inheritance, and what responsibilities came with it. He had been prepared for the talk of what it meant to be a Malfoy, and what was about to be passed into his hands because of being said Malfoy. Those had all been expected; he had been prepared to sit and listen to the lectures of what being a Malfoy meant. No real problem there, it was all familiar territory to him. What he hadn't expected was to receive a mission passed down from the Dark Lord. Neither, was he prepared for what the mission entailed. It was inconceivable, and yet not, that his mother would use him in such a way, but it still HURT. And the objectives of his mission made him uncomfortable and angry, and want to destroy something. He'd been feeling a range of emotions since discovering what he was assigned to do, and at the moment he was feeling empty, hollow.
His mission? He was to spy on Severus and find out where his true loyalties lay. He remembered that particular conversation three days ago with vicious clarity, and his stomach still churned at it.
Flashback
He sat with his mother in the lounge on the first floor having tea and biscuits, and speaking about nothing in particular. Draco watched as his mother took a dainty sip of her tea, saw the sharp look that gleamed in her eyes, and steeled himself for whatever was to come. He didn't expect the words that came from her mouth.
"Draco, you know your first loyalties are to the family and the Dark Lord, correct?" she asked, and Draco nodded feeling wary and uncomfortable. This was the first time he was mentioned since he'd gotten there. "And you also know that, as a Malfoy, and because of this, you have priorities above certain others, responsibilities that take precedence over others, yes?" he nodded again feeling uneasy, and even more wary.
"Therefore you will have no problem with the mission the Dark Lord has set for you. An honor as he usually doesn't set tasks to someone your age. Remember, you have loyalty to our Lord, and your father, and I, over any other, and you DO wish to make us proud, do you not?" Draco nodded, and then cleared his throat at his mother's raised brow.
"Yes mother, yours and father's pride and approval are all I seek. I know I haven't made you two very proud in the past, but I am ready to do anything to do so now," Draco was extremely happy his voice was steady as he spoke. The words left a bad taste in his mouth and a disgusting churning in his stomach. He felt like he may be violently ill, but kept his face impassive.
"Wonderful darling," Narcissa drawled, and the look in her eyes made him even more uncomfortable. "Our Lord wants you to spy on Severus and discover where his true loyalties lay. I know he is your godfather," she sneered. "and Merlin knows why we named him that, but you have loyalties that rest before him, and you WILL carry out this mission." Draco had tried to keep an impassive face as his mother talked, but he could feel his eyes widening and was sure he may have paled a bit. Spy on Severus, his godfather? He felt his stomach churn again with rising sickness and struggled to keep it down. He felt his heart beat increase and wondered if he was about to lose it all in front of his mother. He tried to focus on what his mother was saying again, feeling dizzy and unsettled.
"And of course the Dark Lord has offered great rewards to you if you succeed, and really Draco, it's an easy task compared to others. Do you think you can do it?" she asked, lightly mocking in her tone. Draco resisted the urge to growl at her in anger. He hated himself for what he said next.
"If he is against the Dark Lord mother than I will find out and report it to you, but it may take time. He is not very trusting, as you know, and no mother, not even to me. But I will try and find the answer," he said.
"Do, Draco, not try, but do! We can't have a traitor and potential spy in our midst," she said sharply. Draco nodded feeling sick and sad, and just plain angry.
End Flashback
He had been feeling empty since that morning, realizing that by tomorrow afternoon he would be back at Hogwarts, and supposedly starting his mission. His mother had asked him about any information he already had, if any, which was none. He and Severus rarely talked about the Dark Lord, and therefore, Draco knew next to nothing about Severus's loyalties aside from that of the Dark Lord which Draco couldn't hold against him. Severus hadn't pressured him with talk of the Dark Lord and how great he is, and of joining him, not like Lucius, and Draco was grateful for that. If anyone's opinion mattered anymore it was Severus Snape's, but Draco didn't know if he could spy on the man. Or if he was a Death Eater he could follow in Severus's steps.
He was too hurt and angry and confused now with everything coming at him. He felt trapped, cornered, like he had no way out which was ridiculous to think because he was sure there was a way out somehow. He had suspicions that maybe Severus wasn't so loyal to the Dark Lord, but they were only suspicions, and that was a big maybe. He just wasn't sure what to do. If Severus really was spying on the Dark Lord he did not want to give the man up and blow his cover. The idea of betraying his godfather was more uncomfortable than the thought of betraying his parents. And to betray Severus to anyone, really, but to the Dark Lord especially made him feel ill.
Looking at the sky, he shifted on his feet and felt a spark of anger within him. It wasn't unusual to feel random bursts of emotions in the last few days. Right now, though, the emotion was anger. Did I not endure enough at the hands of my father that I must give up the man who is slowly filling that spot? He thought as he sighed and leaned back against the wall. How could my mother truthfully ask me to do such a thing knowing how much I look up to him? It wasn't a new thought, none of them were. He'd gone though so many of these questions and ideas that he was thinking in circles.
He had thought that maybe this was a test, and that all that 'Make us proud' spiel was to make sure he went through with his mission. Unfortunately for his mother and father, he was less inclined to make them proud anymore, but slightly unfortunately for him was that a small piece of him still wanted to strive for that. And he was slightly torn between the two. He'd never felt like this before, never had to deal with something so big – not counting his choice not to join the Death Eaters – and he didn't know if he could do this, spy on Severus.
And all of this was making him tired, exhausted really, and sick to his stomach. He'd been filled with rage at some points and so ready to break down and cry like a child at others that he felt nothing but empty that whole day since waking that morning. His mother had also decided that he could use a bit of training on spells good for spying on people, and he had spent the majority of the past two days learning and practicing these spells with his mother.
Shaking his head, he turned and walked back into his bedroom, closing the balcony doors behind him. Tomorrow he would be returning to Hogwarts, and for now, he decided to leave the decision undecided. Let his mother think he had agreed. Getting under his covers, he turned on his side and clutched his pillow to him.
It was another restless night for him as sleep evaded him for the third night in a row.