Harry needed a dose of his old reality to get his head down from the clouds. So he slipped quietly from the bed and eased on his dressing gown. It was, remarkably, in one piece. It must have been one of the few items left in the room that could make such a claim. For the place was a state ... there was actual debris littered around Harry's feet. He found the sight ridiculously funny, and bit down on the sleeve of the dressing gown to offset a fit of hysterics that threatened him, as he looked around at the charred walls and smashed furniture ... the aftermath of his sex-shattered domain.