He pulled the black and red dressing gown around his shoulders, it had the Gryffindor badge emblazoned on the right breast and was the cosiest piece of clothing Harry felt he owned. He didn't bother tying it, as the air was still stiflingly hot. He'd better open the window, just in case his wife needed a bit of a breeze on her sweaty body. It might blow the heady aroma of sex from her sticky skin. Oh ... oh yeah! ... there was no window! Harry just stared at the vacant square in the wall, like it was a curious piece of abstract art or something ... then remembered some of the arts he'd been practising there a merely a few hours before ...