“What... the... fu...ck,” he gasped.

She held him tightly until the she felt the last of his juddering. In the stillness that followed, she cautiously asked, “How is he?”

“In a coma,” Theo replied throatily, “The wounds have healed, but he lost so much blood. They don’t know how long... how long... how...fuck.”

With that, Theo shook himself free of her arms, and strode across the room. He seemed, suddenly, to become possessed by some vehement agitation; the moonlight-aura around him rippled with the intensity of it.

“What the fuck,” he roared with this renewed vigour, “was Potter thinking?”