In the next few weeks, Professor Quirrell proved himself capable of defying Snape. While it was clear that he wasn't doing particularly well, based on his deteriorating appearance, he was still managing to delay Snape. Aralynn made it a point to continually remind her friends that she was the one who had believed in Quirrell to begin with. They, too, had begun coming around. They each did a small part to make the professor feel as though he was doing a good job. Hermione would secretly jinx those who mocked him, Ron would tell people off for making fun of Quirrell's stutter, Harry would give him encouraging smiles, and Aralynn would go out of her way to converse with him whenever she could. Their efforts seemed to help him regain a tiny bit of confidence, even if it only seemed to appear during their Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons. He had gotten through an entire class teaching about gargoyles and the Smokescreen Spell, Fumos, without stumbling over his words one single time. They were proud of him, and themselves; if only because they helped him get to that point. Hermione, Ron, and Harry had since taken to apologizing to Aralynn for not trusting her when she said that Quirrell deserved the benefit of the doubt.

Since the Easter holidays had begun approaching, Hermione had thrown herself into a studying overdrive. She constantly berated herself for not preparing better for their year-end exams and would nearly bite Ron's head off every time he reminded her that she had plenty of time to study. Outside of keeping an eye on Quirrell, she would spend hours upon hours drawing up studying schedules, color-coding her notes, and poring over her textbooks. She would bark at Harry and Ron to do the same, but they brushed her off. Aralynn would study with Hermione, but she silently prided herself on not being quite so intense. Though, when Hermione offered—or rather insisted—that Aralynn allowed her to color-code her friend's note, she did. When Hermione had finished doing that, Aralynn had noted that it was far more organized.

With the small amount of time Hermione had left in her prescheduled days, she would help the others study for their exams. She spent several days helping Harry with the Wand-Lighting Charm, Lumos. He was having difficulties keeping the tip of his wand lit. Ron had requested her help with the Severing Charm, Diffindo. Their session didn't take long, because she had simply pointed out that he was saying the incantation wrong (Dinfindo). He was, obviously, embarrassed when he realized this, but thanked Hermione for h er help, regardless.

Watching the boys flock to Hermione made Aralynn feel a little… well, forgotten. It seemed that they never thought to ask her for help. She felt silly for being so jealous, but she had to remember that she and Hermione were neck-and-neck in their battle for the spot as the top student. That was a fact, but it still hurt that they didn't think to ask her for help, too. She wanted to kick herself for feeling so petty about it, but the feeling simply wouldn't go away.

She continued feeling that way until Hermione herself came to Aralynn for her help. When Aralynn asked what the problem was, Hermione broke down and admitted she was having trouble casting the Mending Charm. When she noticed Aralynn's confusion, she continued on to explain that it took her several times to master repairing eyeglasses and had since been struggling with other objects. Hermione's plea for help was humbling for Aralynn. She no longer felt the green monster of jealousy attached to her back. Once she had helped Hermione with the charm, Hermione had proceeded to ask why Aralynn had been so quiet the past few weeks.

Aralynn sighed and wished that she hadn't asked. "It's foolish."

"Even if it is… it's still something that must have been bothering you. That makes it important," Hermione told her.

"I was jealous," Aralynn admitted. She averted her gaze from Hermione to stare into the fireplace. She wanted to focus, instead, on the crackling of the burning logs rather than what Hermione's reaction would be.

Hermione, however, was calm. "Jealous of what?"

"You," Aralynn breathed. "I was jealous that the boys kept coming to you for help with their schoolwork. It felt like they forgot about me—and forgot that I was a bit smart, too."

Hermione smiled softly at her. "You're more than a bit smart, Ara. You're brilliant! Absolutely brilliant. I may regard myself as someone intelligent, with a love of learning, but that doesn't mean you aren't the same way."

Aralynn felt even dumber for even bringing it up. "Thanks, 'Mione."

"Want to know a secret?" asked Hermione.

Aralynn looked over. Hermione's brown eyes were shimmering. "What secret?"

Hermione leaned in close. "Sometimes I think you're even smarter than me." After she spoke, she smiled widely, and hopped up—back to her scheduled study sessions.

Admittedly, Aralynn felt bewildered. There was no way that she was smarter than Hermione Granger, and honestly, she felt stunned that Hermione would even dare think differently. Once again, she felt harebrained. Why was she envious of her friend, rather than thrilled for her and her accomplishments as a student? She wanted to kick herself again.

Ron and Harry had had a bitter reminder that exams were coming when their teachers began assigning them massive piles of homework each day. Aralynn could distinctly recall Harry commenting on how the Easter holidays weren't nearly as fun as Christmas's were. With the sobering reminder of their impending exams, Ron and Harry would spend more and more of their free time in the library with Aralynn and Hermione. Of course, they were much more aggrieved to be there than the girls were. They seemed especially resentful when the weather began improving.

They spent their days, and sometimes evenings, sitting in the library and looking over all the notes they had taken. Ron and Harry's notes were significantly shorter and less detailed than Hermione and Aralynn's were—but they each had to admit that Ron's were the most pathetic. There hadn't been more than two lines written for each lesson. When Hermione looked over them, she scoffed.

"You're never going to pass exams with this rubbish," she told him. "You know, Ronald, you ought to care more about your academics. These exams determine whether you're going to be admitted into second year. What will you do if you fail?"

Ron was flustered. His freckles were hidden underneath a layer of bright red. "Ara, can I borrow your notes?"

Aralynn shot him a pointed look, ignoring the one that Hermione was giving her. "I suppose," she said. "Next time, put some effort in."

"If I pass these exams, I swear I will."

Aralynn narrowed her eyes. "I'll believe it when I see it."

One afternoon, while Ron had been reviewing Aralynn's notes and copying them into his own words, he suddenly threw his quill down. "I'm never going to remember this!" he shouted. "This is too much! These people are mad! How do they expect any of us to remember everything they've taught?!"

Aralynn, Harry, and Hermione had hung their heads during Ron's outburst, as Madam Pince, the librarian who was known for being unpleasant, had come stomping over. They didn't want to receive the same lash Ron was about to. He was standing atop his chair, staring down at them. "Guys?" he questioned. "Are you ignoring me?"

From behind him came a stern, "Ahem."

Ron winced and turned slowly. Madam Pince was standing there with her arms crossed and he had suddenly started feeling like a measly mouse trying to avoid being eaten by a determined cat. "Apologies, Madam Pince," he said tamely. "It won't happen again."

Madam Pince sniffed warningly at him. She turned sharply on her heels and wandered away, back to her post at her desk. A Hufflepuff student approached her, and they began conversing—pleasantly, at that.

Ron slowly sat back down and leaned toward his friends. "You could have warned me!" he hissed.

"And risk being yelled at, too?" Aralynn scoffed. "No way. You're lucky all she did was stare at you."

Ron glared angrily at his sister. "So, you let me receive all of it?"

Aralynn grinned slyly at him. "That's right. You were the one who was yelling, anyway."

"You're an awful sister," he muttered, to which Aralynn chose to ignore.

Harry's attention was caught. Hagrid was shuffling around in the library, which Harry thought was most unusual. At least, since he had never seen the man perusing through the books before. "Hagrid," he called out. "What're you doing here?"

Hagrid ambled over. He was shifting his weight uncomfortably; back and forth, from foot to foot. His eyes skirted around suspiciously. He seemed wary. "Oh, jus' lookin'," he told Harry. He studied the rest of them, noting their noses buried in their books. "An' what're you all up ter?" he asked. Then, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Yer not still lookin' for Flamel, are ye?"

Hermione looked up. "No," she told him. "We found out who he was ages ago."

"We know what that dog is guarding, too," added Ron boastingly. "It's the Philosopher's St—"

Hagrid suddenly leaned forward and shushed them loudly. "Tha's top secret," he told them. "You can't jus' go shoutin' it 'round."

Harry shrugged. "Well, we had a couple of questions, actually."

Hagrid raised an eyebrow.

"About it," Aralynn said. "The Stone. We were wondering what other things, aside from Fluffy, are protecting it?"

Hagrid wheezed. "Quiet, now!" he warned. "Ye can't jus' go blabbin' around bout it—any of it! Students aren't s'pposed ter know about any of this. How bou' you four come by me house later. Now, I'm not sayin' I'm gon ter tell you anythin', though. Nobody can know I told ya anythin'. Like I said, come by later… an' don' say nothing to no one!"

Silently, Harry nodded. He watched Hagrid walk away, careful to keep his hands concealed from the public eye. He sat back down, looking at Aralynn, who seemed to be watching suspiciously after Hagrid. "What is it?"

"He was hiding something," Aralynn told him.

Hermione tilted her head. "He was acting a bit strange. Perhaps it had something to do with the Stone?"

Aralynn hummed. "Maybe."

Ron, who was tired of doing work, stood up. "I'll go and see what section he was looking through," he said. "Maybe it'll give us a clue."

When he wandered away, the rest of them continued to browse through their studies. They shared a few tips back and forth, and Hermione excitedly discussed their lessons to come. "Many of the most interesting things we learn are saved for the end of the year," she explained. "Soon, in Charms, we'll be learning the Dancing Feet Spell, and the Knockback Jinx."

"I've heard our last learned potion for Snape's class will be the Awakening Potion," Aralynn told her. Hermione seemed to grow even more eager if that was even possible.

"I can't believe we're nearly finished," Hermione said, somewhat solemnly. "It's been such a spectacular experience. I can say with certainty that I absolutely adore this school. The curriculum is incredible, and the classes? Oh—beyond! Have you enjoyed it, Ara?"

"I have," Aralynn answered. Which, for the record, was true. However, she sometimes found herself wishing she had never been accepted—that she had been born a Squib. Coming to Hogwarts made her feel more out of place than she had ever expected it would. It aroused many questions she felt she would never find answers to, and that bothered her. She didn't want to feel like something about her wasn't right. She didn't want to feel confused and lost. She simply wanted to enjoy her time at school, but she couldn't. At least not fully. She was beginning to feel like she'd never know why.

Ron came ambling back to the tables with a large pile of books in his arms. He threw them down, moving them so they were lined up. "Dragons," he said. "Hagrid was looking into dragons! Here are some of the books that seemed to have been recently touched: Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland and Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit. He's really studying this stuff."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. "Why would Hagrid want to look that far into dragons?"

Harry looked at the books. "Well," he began, "Hagrid has always wanted a dragon. He told me as much the first time we met."

Ron was looking curious, as was Aralynn.

Harry looked between the Weasley twins. "What is it?"

Aralynn took a breath. "He wouldn't be allowed to have a dragon. It's against our laws."

The black-haired boy furrowed his eyebrows. His scar peeked out from beneath his hair, and Aralynn's breath hitched. "Why, though?"

"Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks' Convention of 1709," Ron interjected. "It's kind of hard to keep a massive pet dragon a secret from Muggles, y'know? Besides, you can't really tame them. It's dangerous—they're dangerous. I can't even begin to tell you how many times Charlie has nearly died from his work in Romania."

"Understandable," Harry nodded, "but there aren't dragons in Great Britain, are there?"

Ron nearly laughed out loud. "There certainly are! Common Welsh Greens and Hebridean Blacks! There's a branch of the Ministry to keep their existence quiet. The wizarding world has to put up a load of enchantments to keep Muggles from seeing them. When that doesn't work, their memories have to be wiped."

Harry looked horrified.

Hermione was shaking her head. "So, then, what is Hagrid doing?"

Ron shrugged slowly. "My best guess is that he's trying to learn how to raise a dragon."

Once Madam Pince shooed them from the library, a black sky had fallen over Hogwarts. The four hurried out of the castle and over to Hagrid's hut. When they arrived at his doorstep, they each used a hand to knock furiously on the door. Hagrid could be heard inside, shuffling around. After a few minutes, he ushered them in. They entered, and immediately began to discard some of their layers. The hut was blisteringly hot. Hagrid had a fire blazing in the grate, despite how warm it was outside. They had only been inside for about five minutes, and they were already sweating. Aralynn eyed a large black egg resting in the fire's flames, watching it rock back and forth as though something inside it was moving.

"So," came Hagrid's voice—breaking the silence. "Yeh wanted ter ask me somethin'?"

Aralynn nudged Harry, who seemed to be hesitating. "Yes," he finally blurted out. "Um, we wanted you to tell us what exactly is guarding the Philosopher's Stone? Aside from Fluffy, that is."

Hagrid frowned. "I can' tell you tha', Harry. I don't know all that's guardin' it meself, and even if I did, ye all know I wouldn' be able ter tell you. This is very dangerous stuff, you four. Ye need ter understan' tha'! The Stone is here for protectin'. Someone tried ter steal it from Gringotts, which I'm sure you all well know! You shouldn' even know abou' Fluffy, an' I dunno how you do… an' I don' wanna know!"

Hermione and Aralynn looked at each other. They knew that they were thinking the same thing. It was time to play into Hagrid's sensitive side—to butter him up, per se. Hermione smiled warmly at him. "We know you might not want to tell us, but you're the person who knows everything that goes on around here."

Hagrid's beard twitched.

Aralynn nodded. "We only wondered who, or what, the guardians are. Who would Dumbledore really trust with something so important? Well, who he trusts aside from you, anyway."

Hagrid's chest swelled. "Well…" He trailed off, debating on whether he should divulge any further information. "I s'pose it wouldn' be so bad to ter ye tha' stuff. Dumbledore borrowed Fluffy from me… enchantments were put in place by some teachers… Sprout, Flitwick, McGonagall…" He was counting them off his fingers. "Erm… let's see… Professor Quirrell, tha's righ'… I'm forgettin' someone here. Ah—oh, right, Snape!"

They all paled, and thunderstruck they said, together, "Snape?"

Hagrid stared at them. "Yeh can' still believe tha' Snape would steal tha' Stone!" he bellowed. "He's protectin' it. If Professor Dumbledore trusts him, then you should, too!"

Aralynn shifted her gaze to Harry's face. Through his expressions, she tried to read into what he was thinking. It wasn't clear, but she could see his anxiousness. She could see that he was worried that Snape had already figured out how to get past each of the teachers' defenses… all except for Professor Quirrell, who was hanging on by a thread. Harry sucked in a deep breath. "You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, right? None of the teachers do?"

"Tha's right," Hagrid nodded proudly. "The only people who know are me an' Professor Dumbledore."

Harry exhaled sharply, quite relieved. He had only just been able to notice how much he was sweating, and how hot he was. The others seemed to start feeling the effects, as well. They were waving their hands before their faces and brushing their dampened hair off their skin.

"Hagrid," groaned Ron. "Can we open a window or something?"

Hermione nodded. "It's a bit… stuffy in here."

Harry laughed. "We're boiling."

"Sorry abou' tha', but… I can't," the man admitted. He looked warily towards the fire.

Harry followed his gaze. The egg was wriggling. "What is that?"

Hagrid didn't say anything. Ron had stood and approached it. He stared at it for a long time. "Where did you get this, Hagrid?" he asked. "It must have been really expensive."

The man shrugged. "I won it. I was havin' a few drinks down in Hogsmeade an' a stranger an' I got in ter a game o' cards. Thinkin' back on it, he seemed to be quite glad ter get rid of it…"

Hermione was also looking at the egg. She breathed out. "Hagrid, what exactly would you do with it once it's hatched?"

"Don' worry abou' tha'!" he exclaimed. He pulled a book out from under his pillow and tapped it with his palm a few times. "Bin readin' all about dragons. This book here is From Egg to Inferno: A Dragon Keeper's Guide. Got it outta the library. I've been followin' all the instructions. Keepin' it in th' fire since their mothers breathe on 'em ter hatch 'em—when they're finally hatched, feed 'em a bucket o' brandy mixed wit chicken blood every half-hour, recognizing diff'rent eggs. See, here, this egg is a Norwegian Ridgeback! Quite rare, them."

They all seemed exasperated with the fact that Hagrid was considering raising a dragon—especially when he lived in a wooden house. However, none of it seemed to faze him. In fact, he seemed quite thrilled at the prospect of having a dragon.

It was just one more thing for them to worry over. They had to make sure that no one was going to find out that Hagrid was harboring an illegal dragon egg in his house. Hermione would often comment on how foolish he was being, and how he should know better.

One day during breakfast, Hedwig delivered a note to Harry from Hagrid that told them the egg was hatching. On their way to Herbology, Ron had been trying to convince Hermione and Aralynn to skip the class. However, the girls wouldn't hear it. Hermione more than Aralynn.

"We can't skip our classes, Ronald," said Aralynn. "We'll get into trouble."

"We'll miss the assigned homework, too!" Hermione huffed. "It's only piling up at this point. We need as much material as we can get to pass our exams. I won't hear of this!"

Ron stomped his feet. "Hermione, when are we ever going to get to see a live dragon hatching? This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! You've already made us these bloody study schedules. We need a bit of excitement!"

"Not with my marks at stake—dragon or not!"

"Shut up!" Harry hissed warningly. A few feet away was Draco Malfoy, who had stopped dead in his tracks to overhear their conversation. They each felt the twang of panic. What if he had heard about the dragon? He would go directly to Dumbledore, and they knew that. They didn't want Hagrid sacked—or worse; arrested.

They had stopped talking about the dragon when they noticed Malfoy had been eavesdropping. Nevertheless, Ron and Hermione continued to argue throughout their Herbology class. Hermione had finally caved and agreed that they could go down to Hagrid's during their morning break. When it came along, they hurriedly traveled across the grounds.

When they arrived, Hagrid ushered them inside and told them the dragon was nearly out. The egg was lying atop the table. The shell had deep cracks, and it writhed back and forth. The dragon inside was clearly eager to come into the world. When a piece of the shell popped off, it fell out onto the table. It was rather ugly, honestly, but still amazing. Its spiny wings were massive compared to its tiny black body. It had large orange eyes. Hagrid was mystified by it. He reached out to stroke its head. The dragon snapped at his fingers. He chuckled heartily. "Bless him! He knows his mummy!"

Aralynn tapped the tabletop nervously. "How fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?"

Before Hagrid could answer the question, his face had completely drained of color. He couldn't seem to find any air to speak. He lurched forward and ran to the window, which caused the entire house around them to shake furiously. They nearly fell out of their seats. "Blimey!" he called. "Someone's seen him! A student!"

All four of them ran to the door to see who had witnessed the hatching. The silvery blond hair running back up to the castle was unmistakable—it was Draco Malfoy. Without a doubt in their minds, he had seen the dragon. They were doomed.

The following weeks were agony waiting to find out whether Malfoy had reported them and Hagrid. He had a suspiciously satisfied smile on his face every time they passed him. They would spend as much time as could in the hut, trying to convince Hagrid, with all their might, to get rid of the dragon. However, Hagrid would refuse. He kept finding reasons not to and had made the fatal mistake of naming it—Norbert. The most they could do was convince him to consider allowing Ron and Aralynn's brother, Charlie, to take in the dragon back in Romania. He agreed that they could owl him, and Aralynn quickly sent Amete off with the note Ron had written him. Caring for Norbert had undoubtedly started becoming more and more dangerous. The dragon was growing rapidly, and by the time Charlie's reply came in—he was nearly the size of Hagrid's hut and was eating rats by the crate.

One evening, around midnight, Ron returned from helping Hagrid feed Norbert. His hand was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief, and he seemed quite annoyed. "That bloody thing bit me! Hagrid told me off for frightening him! Can you believe that? When I left, he was singing it a lullaby. Norbert is a nightmare. Hagrid's lost his marbles."

A tap came from the window. Amete was perched on the ledge, almost dancing while she waited for them to let her in. She seemed proud of herself for delivering the letter to such a far-off place. Aralynn opened the window, took the note, and fed her a congratulatory vole. Amete didn't leave right away. She flew to Aralynn's shoulder and continued to sit there while the four of them put their heads together to read Charlie's response.

Charlie had agreed to take the dragon. He told them that it was best to hand Norbert off to some of his friends who were going to be in the area for a short time. The transfer was still illegal, and so Charlie told them to meet his friends at the tallest tower on Saturday at midnight. Harry had suggested using the invisibility cloak, since it was big enough to fit two people and a crated Norbert underneath. They were so eager to get this nasty business behind them that they all agreed.

The next day, they had prepared to tell Hagrid about Charlie's response. However, they were distracted by the fact that Ron's hand, where Norbert had bitten him, was swelling to unusual proportions, and turning green. Despite his protests, they managed to convince him to go to the Hospital Wing. He did everything he could to not tell Madam Pomfrey that he had been bitten by a dragon—who, apparently, had poisonous fangs.

Aralynn stayed behind with Ron when Harry and Hermione went to tell Hagrid about the plan to send Norbert to Romania. Draco had come through, pretending to want to borrow one of Ron's books, and laughed at Ron while he was there. Aralynn had grown so irritated at him that she screamed at him to take the book and leave, or else she would punch him, just as had on their first day. After that, he quickly left. Unfortunately, he had taken Charlie's letter along with the book. Aralynn assured Ron that she would tell Harry and Hermione. Madam Pomfrey kept trying to shoo Aralynn, but she adamantly stayed put. She didn't want to leave her brother's side.

"My hand feels like it's going to fall off," Ron whined.

"Madam Pomfrey will have you healed in no time," Aralynn assured.

Ron sighed and laid back. "It hurts so much."

Aralynn was staring off into space. "Do you ever wish we hadn't come to Hogwarts?"

"No," he said, looking confusedly at her. "I do wonder what it's like to live a simple life, though. We've experienced lots of craziness since we came. Why—do you wish we hadn't come?"

"Sometimes," she admitted. "It feels like things have gotten so much more complicated since we arrived."

Her brother shrugged. "Feels right, though. Feels like this is where we're supposed to be."

Aralynn furrowed her eyebrows. Does it? she thought. I can't tell. Something about me feels wrong, and maybe nothing else feels right because of that.

Instead, she just smiled at him. "You're right. It does."

"Stop worrying, then, Ara," he said. He reached out to take her hand with his uninjured one. "This is where you're supposed to be."

Aralynn ran her thumb over his knuckles, thinking about his words. "Sure," she said quietly. She pulled her camera out of her bag and stepped back. "Time to document your first serious injury." She snapped the photo. Madam Pomfrey had noticed the flash, and the camera had been Aralynn's undoing. She forced the girl out of the Hospital Wing on the grounds that Ron needed rest. The girl simply obeyed and returned to the Common Room.

She told Harry and Hermione about the unfortunate circumstances with Draco. Though they felt unconfident, they knew it was far too late to find a different course of action concerning Norbert. There was simply no time to figure anything out. They had to follow through with the Saturday meeting and hope for the best.

When the night came, Harry and Hermione had gone down to Hagrid's hut to pick up the crate Norbert was in. He was blubbering quite erratically at the thought of his precious dragon being taken away. They tried to remind him that it was for the best. Aralynn stayed behind to wait in the Common Room with the invisibility cloak. She was careful to make sure that nobody else was awake. When they came back with the crate in hand, she threw the cloak over their heads and managed to squeeze in with them, but barely. It was a tight fit.

They slowly made their way through the halls, trying their best to hold onto the crate. Which, admittedly, proved to be difficult. He wouldn't stay still inside. He was ripping something inside to shreds. They nearly dropped him on countless occasions, but the closest they came was when they saw Professor McGonagall dressed in her nightwear dragging Malfoy along by the earlobe. She was shouting about his insolence and assigned him detention.

He did his best to protest. "Professor, listen! Harry Potter is coming with a dragon!"

Of course, the story sounded like complete nonsense. "Don't lie to me! Come along now, faster! We're going to speak with Professor Snape about your behavior!"

Under the cloak, they felt thankful not to be in Draco's position. Though, they felt he was quite deserving of it. They continued to the stairs, and then up them. Once they got to the top, they took the cloak off and sucked in the fresh air they had been missing underneath. They waited for Charlie's friends to arrive.

Hermione was gyrating excitedly. "This is the best day of my life. Malfoy's got detention!"

Aralynn laughed. "Simmer down, Hermione. You seem like you're about to start singing."

"I could sing!" exclaimed Hermione.

Harry stared at her but was smiling. "Please don't."

After a short while, four of Charlie's friends arrived on broomsticks. They were a jolly lot and showed them the harness they had rigged to transport Norbert. Once everything was set into place, they thanked the children, and flew off into the night's sky. Norbert was finally gone, and they couldn't have been more relieved. They were feeling proud and cheerful as they came back down the staircase. They no longer felt that they had to worry about Malfoy and his big mouth.

However, the excitement was short-lived.

Argus Filch was standing in the middle of the corridor with a lantern held up to his face. His lips were twisted into a malevolent grin. He seemed quite thrilled to be catching them out of bed. It felt as though their knees were about to buckle beneath them.

"Well, well, well," he said through venomous satisfaction. "We are in trouble."