He was going to have to lie to her, again. He had known, prior to their marriage, that he would often be lying to his wife — but it was one thing to know it, and another to do it.

Memories and murder and an undercurrent of fear; a person he could not reach; the feeling of someone slipping into his mind. Those were the things he dreamed about.

"Bludgers I can't avoid, mostly," he said, with a thin smile. "I told you it was silly."