He felt weak; perspiration began to prickle on his forehead. It was suddenly very hard to breathe. He reached for the edge of the door as the room beg...n to spin upside down. Mrs. Weasley quickly grabbed him by the arm just in time to stop him from collapsing to the floor.“Harry, what’s wrong?” He couldn’t answer. The room’s air had disappeared. His sight was failing; everything was turning dark. “Ron! Hermione!” he heard her yell as if from far, far away. Soon, everything was black.A voice. She wasassigned a low-scale clerical job with the Public Education Bureau. She wasofficially a 2nd class citizen now: a convicted felon under house arrest,tainted with a record of smuggling.Her change of career proved to be a minor issue compared to what faced herwhen she showed up at her new house. She had been paired with another woman:Jane Mensch, a very independent-minded divorcee not prone to put up withanything she considered stupid.Their very first meeting indicated a less than. She tossed the idea as quickly as it came, her little bell on a tether was in a tin next to her desk, in easy reach here, but so far away from the bed. She slowly smoothed her hands down her stomach, closing her eyes to feel silk press against her, her hands moving down and around to go down her thighs. One hand made its way to the waistband of her boy-shorts, a single finger teasing the skin above her panties. Again, his words come to mind, prompting her to fetch her tether while she splayed. I’m on my waaaaaaaaaaaay…to the heavn’ly laaaaaaaaaaaaand, sings the jukebox. “That’s a tune from Porgy and Bess,” says Ben, pointing to the jukebox. “Do we have to sit next to it?” I nag. “Sure we have to.” “You okay, Karla?” asks Bianca. “I’m fine.” Ricardo is silent. He’s reading a Spanish version of Isabel Allende’s The House of Spirits. “Are you enjoying it?” I ask Ricardo. “Yes. Have you read it?” I nod and say, “In English.” “Her writing is verry fantastic. She is verry good,” he says. .