It was the middle of the night, and he was lying in his bed at the Manor. Harry was kneeling beside his bed, his upper body rested on his mattress, holding his right hand. Barty and the Dark Lord had claimed the armchairs in front of the fireplace and seemed to doze. Ron and Hermione lay curled up on a transfigured cot. From the looks of it, his leather desk chair had served as a base. Though the light was meagre, the former spy noticed that they all appeared drained, on the verge of becoming sick.