Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do own 500 reviews! Thank you so much!

Rachel: lol, I did learn my lesson. They were the longest 13 seconds of my life.
Meirta: It did make me update faster. I was like 'Oh no, a reviewer in distress! I must update now.'
Jess: Still holding your breath? If so, it must be a world record. Here's the next chapter.
R2D2: love the penname! And I'm glad your excited; I am too.
Gremlin: Well, that is the million dollar question, isn't it? What is Draco going to do?
Jess: I'm assuming you are a different Jess, than the above, hence I dub you Jess II. I thankee, Jess II, for you review and hope that you enjoy the next chapter.
Lucience: McGonagall's a smart lady, she'll figure out Bill needs help. Thanks for reviewing.
Carlac: Hi! Thanks for your review, it made me smile like this :-D.
Slim Shady: It would defeat the purpose of the story to have Draco turn bad, you're right. So the question is: Did I just defeat the purpose of the story? Thanks for reviewing!
Lilith: Begging on your knees? Cool. Thanks for the review.
Quinky-Dink: No, I definitely wrote all of the chapters in order, and this one was just sort of a flash of inspiration to have all of the rules inside of it, thought it took me several tries to get all of the rules incorporated, until I got smart and started a checklist for all the rules. Thanks for the review, and now onto the story….

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Chapter 28

Death Eaters, pt 2

"I'm sorry," said Draco. He whirled around to the professor and pointed his wand at Bill's head.

"Oblivi-," Draco started, but then Bill raised his wand and he was shouting a spell as well. It was only a simple disarming spell but Draco was caught off guard and so his wand flew out of his hand and landed in a corner of the room.

For one split second, Draco stared, and then he was running for his wand but Bill yelled another spell.

"Incarcerous!"

Ropes shot from Bill's wand, latching onto him and wrapping about him tightly. He fell to the floor as the binds knotted themselves around his ankles and then finished tying his wrists behind his back as well. He wanted to scream as he struggled on the floor, trying to get the binds off, but the more he struggled, the tighter they became. He finally gave up once his wrists were rubbed raw and he felt himself losing circulation, going limp on the grime-encrusted floor boards and rolling on his side to glare at Bill. Rule 11: Never get blindsided by kindness.

"You were trying to obliviate me?" asked Bill, more shocked than confused so the question was more of an exclamation. "The hell was that for?" This time it was a question, a question with confusion and disbelief and a little bit of hurt in his voice.

Draco felt even guiltier at that and so responded rather harshly.

"You're a liability," he ground out, struggling with the bonds again. "No one knows that I went on this stupid mission to save your bloody life and I'm going to keep it that way."

"So you were going to wipe my memory?" asked Bill. "I won't say anything if you don't want me to."

"Sometimes you don't get a choice of what you say or don't say," said Draco. "The only reason the Dark Lord didn't have Veritaserum is because he doesn't trust Snape to make it anymore. What would have happened if he had it?"

"He didn't have it though," said Bill. "And at that time you hadn't rescued me."

"That's not the point!" said Draco, feeling the anger well up inside him. "The point is that I am screwed if anyone does find out that I helped you."

"No one's going to find out!" said Bill. "I know practically everyone in the Order and I didn't say a word to Voldemort about that."

"And what happens when the bloody Order wants to know how you escaped?" Draco shot back. "What are you going to tell them then?"

"That I managed to jump McNair and recovered my wand and escaped," said Bill. "They aren't going to put me under Veritaserum and I don't have to tell them the truth."

"Not even if I get the Mark and become a Death Eater?" asked Draco, sneering. "Are you going to tell them then?"

"No," said Bill firmly, his hazel eyes perfectly sincere. "You just have to trust me, Draco."

It all came down to that issue, didn't it? Trust, or the lack thereof. Draco looked away from Bill's burning gaze.

"I don't trust you," he said. "I don't trust anyone." The words were hollow and empty.

"Of course you do," said Bill quietly. "You trust that I won't tell everyone that you're a genius."

"That was only because I knew you were a spy," said Draco. "Your silence for my silence, right?"

Bill was quiet for a moment, but then he looked up at Draco. "It was never like that," he said. "I was never going to tell your secret."

"So you say," spat Draco, giving a frustrated grunt when he couldn't even budge the ropes. Right now, if he wanted to, Bill could turn him into the Death Eaters. Bill seemed to be thinking the same thing.

"You know," he said, "I could turn you in right now. Just levitate you out of the door and hand you over to them."

Draco turned to Bill with slightly panicked eyes.

"Of course," said Bill, "I'm not going to do that. We're friends, Draco. We don't turn each other in, we save each other, like you saved me."

"Do friends tie other friends up?" Draco asked scathingly.

"Do you promise not to obliviate me?" asked Bill.

"Yes," said Draco, knowing that the response would set him free.

"Alright," said Bill steadily. "I'm going to trust you."

He banished the ropes and Draco immediately took off for his wand, grabbing it and whirling on Bill.

"That was stupid," said Draco, leveling his wand at Bill.

Bill slowly put his own wand on the floor and then looked up at Draco with clear eyes that simply said 'if you must'.

A million voices in Draco's head told him to obliviate the professor, to obliviate everything that Bill remembered about him.

"If I do get a say in this," said Bill, seeming to read his mind again, "I would like to remember you."

I would like to remember you. Six words. How could six words make him feel so pleased, guilty, and confused all at once? He could hear his self-preservation screaming at him to obliviate Bill, but his body was responding to another voice, one that was saying that Bill was a friend, that he liked Bill, and so his wand arm fell loosely at his side.

Draco walked over to the wall and slowly sat, leaning against the wood and closing his eyes. Sweet Merlin, he could be discovered or turned into Voldemort, and all he could think was 'I hope Bill doesn't hate me after that'.

He opened his eyes and turned his head to Bill. "I'm sorry," he said, and he was. He had always known deep down that Bill would never do something like that, but he had gotten scared, had been frightened at the idea of someone knowing so much about him, and he had almost obliviated his only friend.

"It's fine," said Bill, letting out a breath of relief and smiling reassuringly at him. "It's all okay."

Draco nodded slightly, swallowing hard.

"How about we get those Aurors then," said Bill, letting his head fall back against the wall and his face suddenly going pale. Draco was alarmed at the sudden white of his profe-his friend. He cursed himself for being such an idiot. Casting spells was not something someone did after just being tortured. Casting takes energy, energy that Bill didn't have a lot of to spare.

He ran over to put a hand on Bill's head and pulled back when he felt the heat. Not good.

Draco ran to the window and shouted out "Morsmordre!"

The Dark Mark shot into the sky, the skull grinning down on the Death Eaters below. That would alert the Ministry, which would send Aurors, who would attack and then Voldemort would take down the Apparating barrier so Draco and Bill could get out of there.

He ran back to Bill's side, noticing the closed eyes and shaking him slightly.

"Bill, wake up," he said. "You have to stay awake, alright?" With all of the trauma Bill had gone through, Draco knew that if Bill did fall asleep, he may slip into a coma.

"Tired," said Bill, trying to blink open his eyes.

"I know," said Draco, "but the Aurors will be coming soon and you have to stay awake, so, I don't know, talk to me or something. Tell me what it was like growing up with all those siblings."

"Hurts," said Bill, his hand going up to touch his jaw, but not quite making it.

Draco dug around for the pain ointment and spread some more on Bill's jaw. They were out of the actual potion.

"Don't talk then," he said. "Just stay awake."

"You talk to me," said Bill, groaning slightly as he tried to push himself up some more. "Tell me what it was like as an only child."

Draco paused, averting his gaze for a minute, but then looked back at Bill who was watching him through pain-filled, tired eyes.

"I wasn't always an only child," he said, and Bill suddenly looked a little more awake. "I had a brother; his name was Lukas." He stared off at the wall as he remembered. "He was illegitimate, so no one really knew he existed, except the family. He was older than me by over ten years, I think. He'd be about your age if he was still alive."

He glanced at Bill and saw the surprised, but sympathetic expression on the teacher's face.

"You would have liked him," Draco told Bill. "He liked to laugh a lot. I never saw him except for summers because he was in school and what not, but during the summer, he was always taking me places, to zoos and parks, a few museums. He even took me to Italy once to see the Leaning Tower of Pisa."

"What happened?" Bill asked, his voice coming out like a croak.

"He fell in love with a Muggle girl," said Draco. "He told the family one summer that he was getting married and then-," he cut off, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as a lump formed in his throat like it always did when he thought about Lukas. "He was talking to us in the parlor with this huge smile on his face. He said that she was perfect and that he loved her and then grand-mère cast the Avada on him from behind. One minute he was smiling, the next there was a green light and he was falling, but he was still smiling, even when he died."

"How old were you?" Bill managed.

"I was seven," said Draco. "We moved here a year after Lukas died because Lucius couldn't take being there summers without him. He never said that was why, of course, but I knew it. Grand-mère died a few months before we left. I'm pretty sure Lucius killed her, and I'm glad he did. That's why you don't have to worry about Lucius hitting me. After Lukas, he wouldn't do anything to hurt me."

Bill nodded, understanding filling his eyes. Draco felt his throat start to burn and he squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure building up.

"S'okay to cry," said Bill, his voice ragged but comforting and kind.

Draco gave a bitter laugh. "I don't cry," he said, opening his eyes again and blinking a few times.

"It's not weak to cry," said Bill, struggling to talk even though he looked ready to collapse. Draco cut him off.

"Lucius himself cried at Lukas' funeral," he said. "I didn't because I don't cry. I can't."

Bill shot him a questioning look.

"When I was born," said Draco explaining, "the medi-witch gave me to Narcissa to hold while she cleaned up. I was a newborn, so naturally I was crying. While the medi-witch left the room for something, Narcissa placed an anti-crying charm on me. However, because she didn't see me again until I was five and because she didn't tell anyone the charm stayed on until I was seven. Lucius figured out that I couldn't cry when Lukas died. He had the charm taken off, but when such charms are left on for so long, they have a permanent effect. I cannot cry. I haven't been able to since the day I was born."

Bill looked outraged at that, but the look was somewhat dampened by the fact that he also looked sick. Draco was a little worried for the professor, but then he heard shouts outside, and fighting. He peeked out the window to see that the Aurors had arrived and then helped Bill up so he could see as well.

"I'm going to leave you here," Draco told him. "I don't want to try Apparating back with you because you're so hurt, plus, you'll get faster treatment this way when the Aurors find you."

"Are they looking for me?" asked Bill.

"I trashed your room, and the professors know that you're missing. I think they can put two and two together."

"Trashed my room?" Bill asked.

"Nothing big," said Draco. He set Bill down again and gathered up his things, even taking the transfigured blanket, just so no one would know he was there, finally pulling on the invisibility cloak. He waited until all of the Aurors had chased away the Death Eaters and he knew that the wards were gone, so he dropped the wards around the house and then banged on the window.

An Auror looked up and Draco shouted "Hey, in here!"

The Auror called a buddy over and they started up the steps.

"See you Bill," said Draco.

"Be safe," said Bill.

Draco Apparated back to Hogwarts. It was surprisingly easy getting back to his dormitory as the older Slytherins were having a late party and the younger students were in bed. He went straight for the bathroom, pulling off his clothes as he went and locking the bathroom door behind him.

All things considered, he wasn't in bad shape. He mended the cut on his face and found some anti-bruising cream to rub on his shoulder. The gash on his back was a little harder to deal with because it is extremely hard to heal oneself. Healing with a wand is basically the act of transferring a bit of energy from Healer to patient as the proper spells are said, and it is impossible to give energy to yourself. Smaller cuts are easier to deal with, because they don't require energy-transfer, but anything larger than a cut does. That is also why potions are so helpful. They do the same thing as spells, but without draining the Healer, so wounds can be taken care of by the injured person.

Draco did not have any potions for a larger wound, and so he settled with giving the slice a thorough washing in the shower, and once he was done getting the rest of the grime off of him and stepped out of the shower, he taped a bandage over it. He cleaned his dirty clothes with a spell and then took them into the dorm and shoved them in the bottom of his trunk.

He pulled on another pair of black pants and a black t-shirt and repaired the tear in the invisibility cloak where the knife had torn it. Once finished, he pulled on a pair of shoes, threw the cloak over him and snuck into the infirmary, taking a position in an empty corner.

He didn't have to wait long. Two Aurors came out of the Floo carrying a stretcher between them with Bill on it. Madame Pomfrey had a bed ready for the professor and within moments Bill was wearing hospital pajama pants while Pomfrey poured potions down his throat and then swathed his back, which was almost entirely all black and blue, with healing ointment and bandages.

Dumbledore and McGonagall came rushing in a few minutes later once Bill was settled back in bed and while McGonagall went straight to Bill's side, Dumbledore went to Pomfrey.

"How is he?" Dumbledore asked the medi-witch and Draco shifted closer to the conversation.

"All things considering," said Pomfrey in confusion, "in surprisingly good condition. He has a broken jaw, four broken ribs, and a broken leg. He has an amazing amount of bruising and it's a wonder he was able to get out at all when he was hurt that badly. If I didn't see the proof right before my eyes, I would say that someone in that condition escaping unaided is an impossibility…," she trailed off, giving the figure on the bed an odd look.

"What is it?" asked Dumbledore.

"It's just that- that I almost wonder if he did have help. For someone with that many cuts and bruises and broken bones, I would be fearful of death due to blood loss, especially since he was in motion practically all night, but his blood levels are fine, almost as if he had a blood replenishing potion before he got here."

"Did the Aurors give him anything?" asked Dumbledore.

"No," said Pomfrey. "They gave him some pain medication and took his story while they set up an emergency portkey and while they Floo-ed him here, but that was it."

Dumbledore looked at Bill thoughtfully for a moment.

"Have his parents been notified yet?" he asked Pomfrey.

"Not yet," said the medi-witch. "Since you know the particulars, I'll let you do the explaining, though from what I gather, telling them the whole story might be a good idea."

Dumbledore smiled at that. "Yes, I suppose it would. I trust that I have your discretion on this matter?"

"And every other matter I come across," said Pomfrey, giving him a smile of her own.

"Thank you Poppy," said Dumbledore, and he too, went to stand by Bill's bed.

Draco could hear part of what Bill was saying now. "-so I just grabbed my wand and ran," he said. "I don't remember really what happened after that. I know I made it to a house of some sort and collapsed in there. The Death Eaters were just starting to come in when the Aurors came, but I'm still a little foggy on most of the events. I'm sorry I can't remember more."

"William," said Dumbledore, and Draco smirked at the use of Bill's first name, "I understand from the Aurors that Claire Jameson is working for Voldemort?"

"Yeah," said Bill. "I had no clue."

"Neither did we," said Dumbledore. "As for your escape, were you aided by anyone through the night?"

"Aided?" Bill asked, confusion and weariness in his voice. Draco smirked; Bill was an excellent actor.

"I'm sorry," said Dumbledore. "I'll let you sleep in a few moments; it's just that Pomfrey says that you are in remarkably good shape for someone in your condition and that your blood level shouldn't be so high."

Bill was silent for a moment and then he spoke up. "I know this may sound weird," he said, "I must have been hallucinating or something from the potions they kept giving me, but I could have sworn there was…," he trailed off and then asked, "Do you believe in angels?"

"It doesn't matter what I believe," said Dumbledore. "Do you believe that you saw an angel?"

"I think there was a…presence helping me," said Bill carefully, not exactly lying but definitely giving them the wrong impression. "I only got glimpse of it from time to time, but it was almost as if it helped me escape."

Draco had to put his hands over his mouth to keep from laughing at that. Yes, Bill had only gotten a glimpse of him from time to time because of the invisibility cloak, but comparing him to an angel was absolutely ridiculous.

"Stranger things have been known to happen," said Dumbledore, apparently satisfied at the answer. "And angel or not, I'm glad that it was there for you."

"Me too," said Bill quietly.

"Well then, I'll let you rest," said Dumbledore. He and McGonagall moved away, but then Dumbledore turned back. "Just out of curiosity, William," he said, "what made you think it was an angel?"

Bill smiled slightly. "I'm pretty sure it was a blonde," he said simply.

Dumbledore chuckled at that and the two older professors left the room.

Draco shook his head at Bill, even though his friend couldn't see him. Honestly, him, an angel? He thought about saying hello to Bill, but the professor was already half asleep and he had been through a lot. Draco silently left the room, and then went for his own bed.

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Three days. He had been in the hospital wing for three days and Pomfrey assured him it would be at least another four. The potions had given him a rather bad fever as all of the toxins left his blood stream and he was still sore from the beatings.

He had woken up to see his entire family around his bed and his mother had promptly burst into tears, telling him that if he ever did such a thing again, she would lock him in a room forever. Dumbledore had told them everything, something that Bill was both thankful and regretful for. He hated lying to his family, but at the same time his mother was pitching a fit.

His father however seemed to be quite proud of him, though extremely glad he was safe. His other siblings had thought him rather cool for spying like that, though Charlie made him promise not to do so again, at least not without telling them first.

Bill readily agreed and then Fleur had come and they had spent a joyful two days together, but Fleur was busy learning how to become a clothing designer for wizards and she had to leave after that. His family had left as well, though they often came in the day to visit him. But right now, it was the middle of the night and he couldn't sleep.

He had been having nightmares recently, ones that involved him being back in the dungeon and seeing his family slaughtered around him or being tortured again or running away but never running fast enough. It always ended though with the picture of a blond boy lying on the ground in a puddle of red liquid and with one lone drop of blood running down his face like a scarlet tear.

Bill knew that having nightmares after an ordeal like he went through was perfectly normal, in fact, it would be normal not to have them, but at the same time, he couldn't help but feel frustrated at the fact. He was perfectly fine; he was safe now. So why couldn't he sleep without waking up and screaming bloody murder?

He sighed and pulled the white blanket up a little higher around him and for some reason flashed back to sitting with Draco in the house.

Draco transfigured a clean bandage into a thick, white blanket and helped Bill wrap it around himself.

"Better?" he asked and right then, Bill knew that he was right to worry. Something was very off.

He nodded. "Thanks."

Draco stood abruptly and walked to window, looking out again.

"How are you going to call the Aurors?" asked Bill, slipping his wand out of his pocket and held it by his leg out of sight.

"The Dark Mark," said Draco. "I'm going to launch one." He pulled out his wand and Bill watched as he turned it over idly in his fingers.

"Bill," he said suddenly.

"Yeah?" asked Bill, bracing himself.

"I'm sorry," said Draco. He whirled around to the professor and pointed his wand at Bill's head.

"Oblivi-," he only got that far before Bill's own wand was up and he was yelling "Expelliarmus!"

Had he been stronger, Draco's wand would have flown to his hand, but it was all he could do to actually cast spell.

He could see the shock in Draco's eyes for a split second before he ran for his wand and so he cast the binding charm and the kid fell to floor with the ropes knotting themselves around him. He watched as Draco struggled with the bonds in a panic and he felt bad for doing that to the kid, but he was still shocked that Draco was going to obliviate him. After everything they had gone through. And so he asked why, and immediately understood.

Bill shook his head as he remembered. Draco had been so afraid Bill would turn him in, and so Bill did the only thing he could. He had let Draco go; he had given him the trust that he wanted Draco to have in him. And Draco had trusted him, even though Bill had been a little fearful for a few moments there.

But Draco had also trusted him with Lukas. He remembered the kid telling the story about his brother with clear mercury eyes and wondered if Draco thought of him as an older brother the way he thought of Draco as a younger brother. He had wanted to reach over when Draco had finished the story and give him a hug, but he knew Draco would be uncomfortable and he could hardly move, but still, the kid had looked as if he wanted to cry.

But Draco didn't cry, Bill reminded himself. No, he couldn't cry. He wondered what that was like, going through your whole life without shedding a tear in sadness or in joy. He couldn't imagine.

Bill shook his head again to clear it and sighed. He was bored.

"Bored?" asked a voice next to him and Bill jumped, but then saw the form of Draco Malfoy slowly appear as the kid pulled off the invisibility cloak.

"It's about time you came," he told the teen, pretending to be crosser than he was.

"Not my fault you were surrounded by your family the entire time," said Draco, shrugging. "You never did tell me what it was like growing up with all those people."

"Loud," said Bill. "Very loud and rowdy because the majority of us were boys. But it was fun too."

Draco nodded, then caught sight of all of the potions on the bedside table next to Bill.

"How bad off are you?" he asked, picking them up and holding them up towards the moonlit window to see what they were.

"I'm getting better," said Bill. "Most of them are just precautionary."

Draco nodded again, setting them down.

"You know," said Bill, "I never really got the chance to thank you properly."

"'Course you did," said Draco. "You said so in the house."

"Yeah," said Bill, "but that was during a stressful situation, so I just want you to know, that I am extremely thankful that you got me out."

Draco scoffed slightly. "It was nothing," he said, shrugging, but his cheeks were slightly flushed so Bill knew that his thanks were not disregarded.

"Something I was wondering, Draco," he said, deciding against embarrassing Draco further even though he wished to. The kid had saved his life after all; he supposed he could cut him a break. "How did you do magic outside of school without being caught?"

"Voldemort's wards protect against the Ministry knowing what spells are used," said Draco.

"But when you Apparated in, you weren't in his wards, so how come the Ministry didn't get you?"

Draco smirked slightly. "I may have a wand that operates without the Ministry's knowledge, but if you say anything, I'll deny it vehemently."

"You have an unregistered wand?" asked Bill incredulous.

Draco shrugged. "I know people," he said vaguely.

"You know people?" Bill asked, but then he changed his mind when Draco went to answer. "Forget it," he said, holding up a hand. "I don't want to know."

Draco smiled at that and Bill did too.

"Do you want anything?" asked Draco suddenly. "I seem to remember that you brought me some books when I was locked in here, so I suppose I should return the favor."

Bill chuckled. "I think I've read the entire library by now," he said, only halfway joking.

"I don't mean library books," said Draco. "I was going to offer Hogwarts: A Dark History."

Bill was actually mildly intrigued. "Do you have it on you?" he asked.

"I didn't," said Draco, "But I ordered you a copy."

Draco retrieved a thick book from where it was hidden in the folds of the invisibility cloak and handed it to Bill.

"It will look just like Hogwarts: A History to anyone who doesn't know what it is," said Draco. "If you tell them what it really is, they'll be able to read it as well. I marked the passages that are proven to be true, since most of it is just based on rumor."

Bill stared at the book in his hands and then looked up at Draco.

"Thank you," he said.

Draco shrugged. "It's just a recovery gift," he said.

"Recovery gift?" asked Bill.

"Lucius always buys me stuff when I'm sick," said Draco. "I think it's because he feels guilty that he's not around a lot."

"What kind of gifts?" asked Bill.

"A trip to Spain, some new thestrals, top box seats at the Quidditch World Cup," said Draco, listing them off as if they were nothing. Bill was suddenly reminded what very different worlds they lived in.

"We didn't get toys," said Bill, "but while we were sick our mother would make us chicken soup with ginger ale to drink. Then in the evening she would wrap us up in a blanket, sit us on her lap in the rocking chair, and read us stories out of this huge book of fairy tales. It was almost worth getting sick just to have mum coddle us like that."

He smiled at the memory and glanced at Draco who had an odd expression on his face, as if he couldn't quite picture what Bill was saying.

"Your mother sounds nice," said Draco after a while.

"She is," said Bill. He watched as Draco didn't look convinced and reached out to place a hand on Draco's arm. "Not all mothers are like yours," he said.

"I know," said Draco quickly, but then he let out a breath in what was almost laughter. "It's just a new concept for me, I guess. I've never really met any other mothers, so I suppose I stereotype slightly."

"Understandable," said Bill. "We all stereotype about Malfoys."

This time Draco actually laughed, though it was softly. "I suppose I don't really help in that area."

"Hell no," said Bill. "On the train ride up, Ron, Hermione, and Harry were trying to convince me you were pure evil. I was a little worried that you were a miniature Voldemort."

He grinned, to let Draco know that he was teasing, and Draco returned the smile, then got up.

"I should probably let you sleep," said Draco. "I'll put the cloak in your room."

"Speaking of that cloak," said Bill. "How on earth did you get it? I thought the doors were supposed to be spell-resistant."

"They are," said Draco. "I picked the lock."

"You picked the…," asked Bill, trailing off at the smirk on Draco's face. "Just when I think I know you," said Bill, shaking his head. Draco looked rather smug, so Bill glared, but it was interrupted by a violent yawn.

"Goodnight, Bill," said Draco.

"Don't go yet," said Bill. "I'm bored."

"You need to sleep," said Draco.

"I'm not tired," said Bill, and then he realized that he had just left himself wide open for a sarcastic remark. Draco did not disappoint.

"Just close your eyes for five minutes," said the teen, smirking wickedly. "And you'll fall right to sleep."

Bill made a face at Draco, who merely smirked even wider and then turned to leave.

"If I tell you 'thanks' again, would it be redundant?" asked Bill, just as Draco opened the door.

Draco turned back. "I'm sure you would have done the same for me, so yes, getting redundant. Goodnight."

"'Night," said Bill. He waited until Draco left and then closed his eyes and decided to take his own advice. Well what do you know? he thought as he drifted off, it actually works.

He had no nightmares that night.

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See, no cliffhanger! Aren't you happy? Like one more chapter to this story, and then an epilogue and then 'el finito', rather depressing for me.