"How was your time away?" Harry asked, eyeing Draco warily. The blonde didn't move a muscle.

"Since when do you care how my time away went?" They were huddled together inside the world's smallest tent in the middle of the pouring rain, and the tent wasn't doing much to keep them dry. Neither of them had charmed the tent to be any bigger, or to protect them better from the elements - those that hunted them would be able to sense the magic, and therefore know their location.

"I care when you come back almost chipper," Harry said, his eyes darting around the area that he could see from the tent's opening. "Did you get laid, or something?"

"What are we now, friends?" Draco asked caustically.

"I was just asking," Harry said defensively. "You don't have to bite my head off about it."

"Oh, how I wish I could," Draco said bitterly. Harry shot a glare at him. "Why is it that you can't focus on the task at hand?" Water dripped down the blonde's nose, but he made no move to wipe it away.

"I am focused," Harry said defensively. "But that doesn't mean that I don't want to know why you came back so happy."

"I hexed your bosom friend," Draco snorted derisively. "And this is the criteria that you use to call me happy?"

"You were smiling when you did it," Harry snapped. "And you haven't done that since Hogwarts."

"So I found some joy in making him vomit slugs for half an hour - so what?"

"And that was all it took to make you happy?"

"It amused me. Is that what you mean?"

"No, it's not, and you know it. Does this have something to do with the woman that was in that picture with you?"

"No, it does not, and you shouldn't try to discuss things that you know nothing about."

"Oh, touchy, are we?"

"You're about to be the subject of some very painful curses, do you realize that?"

Harry didn't reply, and for several minutes the only sound was that of the rain beating down on the tent and the ground beneath them. Then, "I know how irritating Colin can be."

"Salazar's fucking beard," Draco breathed, rolling his eyes and gritting his teeth. "I don't give a damn about whatever sob story you're about to tell me. Get this through your thick head, Potter: we are not now, nor will we ever be, friends. While you may feel compelled to talk and spill your innermost secrets to me, I am completely uninterested in hearing them."

"I was just trying to let you know that you're not the only one who's had his privacy invaded."

"And I just told you that I don't give a damn, so keep it to yourself."

"Fine," Harry said, turning back to the task at hand. When his back was turned, Draco allowed himself a small smile before turning his attention elsewhere.

**************************

Hermione was sitting on her sofa with her feet tucked under her as she read when someone knocked on her front door. With a distressed sigh, she put her book down on an end table and went to open the door.

"Hermione, it's me," came the voice. "Can I come in?" She rolled her eyes and took a deep breath before forcing a smile and opening the door.

"Hello, Colin." She stepped aside so he could enter. He moved past her and went to the middle of the room, where he turned and gave her a helpless look. "What can I do for you?"

"Has she spoken to you?"

"Colin, you know she hasn't. She won't even discuss what happened with her brother, let alone me. She's actually been treating me like some sort of enemy. She's been avoiding me all week."

"How did she take the photo in the Prophet the morning after?"

"That was a really stupid thing to do, you realize," she chastised him. "You knew she'd see it. It's not something you should have done if you're intent on winning her back."

"I know it was dumb, but I was so upset, I wasn't in my right mind."

"I know."

"Has she said anything at all to give you some indication of what she intends to do?"

"What do you mean, 'what she intends to do'?"

"I mean, has she said anything to you about reconciling?"

"I just got through telling you that she's been avoiding me for the last week," she sighed. "I haven't seen much of her, but from the looks of it, she's happy and hasn't mentioned anything about you, as far as I know."

"Has Ron been talking to her about me?"

"No. He's been dancing around the subject of the breakup ever since it happened."

"I know Harry's said something to her, right?"

"Harry has a lot on his mind these days, Colin. He doesn't have time to worry about other people's failed relationships."

"I thought that surely he would go to bat for me," Colin said, disappointed. "Doesn't anyone like me well enough to fight for me and argue my case?"

"Why don't you do it yourself?"

"She won't see me. I've sent owls and tried to floo. My owls never return with answers, and her floo has apparently been taken out of the network. When I knock on her door, she doesn't answer."

"Well, sometimes what we don't do is just as important as what we do."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that Ginny is trying to send you a message, Colin," Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes. "She's trying to tell you that she doesn't want to see you or hear from you right now."

"Just for right now?" he mused aloud, his expression thoughtful. "So you think that in a few weeks, she'll be ready to talk to me?"

"I don't know," she said, exasperated. "I'm not her, and I'm not even in her inner circle of friends anymore, so I don't know what to tell you. You'd be better off talking to Harry or Ron about this."

"But you just told me that Harry was too busy to talk to me about it," he objected. She bit the inside of her cheek and forced a sympathetic smile.

"Look, I'd really love to help you, but I have a busy day ahead of me tomorrow, so I need to get some sleep tonight."

He nodded slowly, and headed towards the door. "Thanks, Hermione. I'm sorry I took up so much of your time - I guess I just need help understanding all of this."

"I think in time she'll come around, Colin. She just needs some time to herself, is all. Be careful on the way home, okay?"

He nodded again and left without another word. When he was gone, Hermione slumped against the door and massaged her aching head with her fingertips. How had she managed to get in the middle of this?

**********************

"You miserable bastard!" Draco shrieked, throwing his shredded cloak on the muddy ground. "The next time you purposely put me in the line of fire, I will kill you myself!"

"What makes you think that I intended for them to -"

"Using me as a human shield counts as you trying to kill me!"

"But I didn't know they were going to-"

"You did! You threw me in front of you before they started aiming their hexes at you! I can go back to my former organization and be hexed if that's what I want - I don't need you for this!"

"You're supposed to be my bodyguard - or have you forgotten?"

"As if you would ever let me forget," the blonde snarled.

"Then you know that the definition means to protect me. Taking a hex aimed at me is included in the job description!"

"Not for me, it isn't! My job is to keep you from putting your idiotic self into these types of situations in the first damned place!"

"Then why let me come out here?" Harry yelled furiously, water dripping down his glasses and blurring his vision.

"How can I keep you from doing stupid shit if you won't listen to me? Weasley set me as your bodyguard for a reason, you fucking twit! Otherwise I'd probably be cleaning your stupid headquarters!"

"You think you're so smart, don't you? If that was the case, then you would have been able to see what was going to happen here, and you would have been able to avoid it!"

"So you admit that you set me up, you miserable fucking bastard?"

"What if I had?" Harry challenged, his eyes wild. "It's not like you wouldn't deserve it! It's not like anyone would actually miss you!"

"You are completely pathetic," Draco hissed. "At least I have never hidden what I am!"

"You are an opportunist! You are evil, and I don't care what anyone else says, I know that you are not capable of change!"

"It's better to be violent and evil if there is violence and evil in your heart than to pretend to be nonviolent and good to cover impotence!"

"Quit spouting your self-righteous shit at me!" Harry screamed. "Unlike you, I am not pretending to be anything!"

"You pretend at everything you do in your life! It's no wonder you're so miserable - you perpetuate your own fucking misery! You wouldn't be able to function if you were happy!"

"You have no idea what you're talking about! You don't know me! Just because you follow me around doesn't mean you have any idea who I am!"

"I know exactly who you are! You're the pillock who has had a string of women, but never stays with one long enough to develop a relationship because he's afraid something bad will happen to them. You're the twit who has a whole team of people ready to fight by his side and stay with him until the bitter end, and yet keeps pushing them away to go out on his own because he doesn't think he needs their help!"

"If I don't keep a girlfriend, it's because my enemies could use her against me!"

"Yes, let's just conveniently forget the fact that your days are numbered and you want to be miserable for the time that you're here. You also conveniently forget the fact that when you are miserable, you make everyone else around you miserable, you selfish fuck!"

"I don't push my friends or the Order away," Harry denied, pretending that Draco's barbs weren't hitting their mark. "If I tend to be a loner, it's because I know that they don't need to die for me! It's me that everyone's after, not them!"

"Bullshit! You keep everyone at arm's length because you think you can do everything yourself, and it's not true, Potter! Do you know how many times I've saved your sorry arse in the scant year that I've been protecting you?"

"Once!"

"Well that proves my point of how observant you are - you haven't even noticed when your life's been threatened."

"I shouldn't have to notice - that's your job, not mine!"

"Yes, because Morgaine knows that you wouldn't actually learn anything from death threats," Draco snapped, turning his back and beginning to walk away.

"Where in the hell do you think you're going?"

"Away from you."

"You can't! This is your job!" Draco half-turned to look at him.

"And according to my contract," he sneered distastefully, "I am entitled to three hours a week away from you - not to mention a whole bloody day to myself, once a month. I am taking that day right now."

Harry watched as the blonde man walked away, disappearing beneath the heavy curtain of freezing rain, and wondered where he would spend a whole day, if not at the Order's headquarters.

**************************

The tea was way too cold, Ginny thought distractedly. She frowned into her cup, not even pretending to be interested in what Harry was babbling on about. When had the tea been made, anyway? And whose duty was it to keep an eye on the refreshments so they didn't go cold? Because whoever it was, they had grossly neglected their duty.

"Are there any more questions?" Harry asked, glancing around. She sighed and, giving up on the tea as a lost cause, deposited the cup on the tabletop.

"I have one." A man that Ginny only recalled seeing once or twice before stood, and Harry nodded at him.

"Go ahead."

"Where is Draco Malfoy?"

Ginny's ears perked up a bit at this. She was a bit discomfited, however, when she saw that Harry was focusing his eyes on her.

"He's accounted for."

She didn't know why it should, but the simple statement sent chills rippling through her. Harry's intent gaze wasn't helping, either. She did her best to clear her mind of any thoughts of Draco's visit, and could only pray that it worked and that Harry wasn't as accomplished in his Legilimency as Ron had bragged.

"Can we trust him?" Someone else piped up - this time, a woman. Ginny didn't recognize her at all, but was grateful for the woman's presence when Harry's eyes shifted.

"I assure you, if we could not trust the boy, he wouldn't be here in any capacity," Arthur Weasley said, standing. "But let us not forget that he is human too, and deserves time away like the rest of us."

"We're fighting a war!" Ron snapped angrily, standing to face his father. Ginny glanced at Harry, who blew out a tightly controlled puff of air. "None of us get time off!"

"Ron, you know full well what the terms of our agreement with Malfoy entail," Hermione remarked, not rising from her seat. Ginny waited, her leg bouncing impatiently. What were the terms of the agreement? She couldn't remember ever being present when Malfoy was discussed - come to think of it, when had they determined what post he should be assigned? And why hadn't she been a part of the decision making process, as most Order members usually were?

"I think that, unless anyone has any valid questions, this meeting can be adjourned." Harry watched as witches and wizards filed out of the room. Ginny waited until the rush was over and then stood. She reached for her bag and had just slung it over her shoulder when he spoke again. "Hey, Ginny?"

She froze; had he been able to look inside her mind and see that Draco had come to see her? Not that he'd ever told her not to tell anyone, but still - it was something she had for herself, and she didn't want to share it. She turned to face him.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Is everything all right with you?"

She tilted her head at him. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"I just - I'd heard that Colin visited Hermione, and I thought that maybe he might have visited you as well. He seems to be taking the breakup pretty hard."

"He went to see Hermione?"

"You mean you didn't know?"

"No one told me, no. Not that it matters anyway - he's going about things the wrong way if he's trying to figure out why I broke it off."

"I think he was more interested in finding out how to reconcile, rather than an explanation for what happened."

"That will never happen."

"The reconciliation, or the explanation?"

"Is there a point to this?" she asked suddenly. He cleared his throat.

"There is, actually."

"Can we get to it then, please?" Harry opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the sound of the door slamming. Both he and Ginny turned to see Malfoy heading towards them. Ginny's pulse raced inexplicably, and she turned back to Harry, whose eyes had narrowed and were focused on the blonde. "Harry? What was it that you wanted to talk to me about?"

"I forgot," he lied, shaking his head. "I'll talk to you later."

Ginny stared at him in disbelief before pushing past him in a huff. She resisted the urge to stare at Draco; instead she left without looking at or speaking to either of the men. When she was gone, Draco smirked at Harry.

"You're pathetic."

"So you've mentioned before," Harry snapped angrily.

"You chose not to reveal yourself to her just because I was here? Aw, did I ruin the moment?"

"Shut up," Harry snarled.

"It's just as well," Draco said, shrugging. "She wasn't interested. Not until I walked into the room, anyway." Harry launched himself at the blonde, pinning him against the wall by pressing his forearm against Draco's neck.

"You stay the hell away from her, do you hear me?"

"I may stay away from her, but how are you going to convince her to stay away from me?" His silver eyes mocked Harry, even when he was at a disadvantage. Harry let go of him and took several steps backwards.

"If you go near her again, you will regret it."

"Is that a threat, Potter?" Draco asked, his eyes glittering wildly. "Because if it is, you had better be prepared to back it up."

"Leave her alone, you sorry son of a bitch." Draco tsk-tsked.

"Let's leave my mother out of this, shall we? And besides, Potter, if you're not harboring any feelings for her, why bother warning me away?"

"She's my best friend's little sister. I am just as responsible for her well-being as I am-"

"Save it," Draco sighed, bored already. "I've got better ways to spend my remaining free time than to waste it listening to your pathetic drivel." Harry watched as the blonde disappeared into the other room, and then turned his eyes back to the door Ginny had walked out of. Malfoy may be an insensitive evil prick, but he'd been right.

The only problem now was, how was Harry going to tell her how he felt, before Malfoy got too strong of a hold on her?

****************************

Ginny stepped out of the shower and wrapped a fluffy white towel around her waist. She wiped the fog from the mirror and made a face at her reflection, and then reached for her brush. She began brutally pulling it through her hair, not even wincing when it encountered snarls.

"What do you know - you really are hard headed." The brush clattered to the floor as she turned to look at him.

"How in the hell did you get past the wards to get in here?"

"The same way I did last time."

"Yeah, I haven't figured out how you did it then, either." She knelt down to retrieve her brush. "I thought you had to wait seven days from your last visit before you could come again, and it's only been five days." Her eyes widened, and she clutched her towel tighter. "Is - Harry's not here, is he?"

"Why? Would you like to see Potter?"

"No - I just wanted to know whether I should get dressed or not." The corners of his mouth turned up.

"So you would put clothes on for him, but you're comfortable being barely covered in front of me? Interesting."

"Don't be ridiculous," she laughed, shaking her head. "I'm sure you've seen loads of naked women."

"And Potter hasn't? Is that what you're saying?"

"I don't know," she said, shrugging. She began brushing her hair again, pulling the brush through almost violently. He rolled his eyes and pushed off of the door frame with his foot, and then held his hand out. "What?"

"Give me the damned brush."

"Why?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Because I'm going to beat you about the head with it. I'm going to show you the proper way to brush your hair, you nit."

"I've been doing it on my own since I was six years old - I'm pretty sure that I know how to do it by now -thanks anyway."

"Give me the brush before I take it from you."

"Fine, you pushy bugger!" She thrust it at him and folded her arms over her chest. "Now show me how to do it right." He took several steps towards her, and she retreated instantly. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to show you how to do it right."

"On me?" she squeaked, pointing to herself. He rolled his eyes.

"Where else would I show you? You didn't think I was going to use your filthy brush in my clean hair, did you? What's the matter, afraid of me?"

"You wish," she fired back. "Fine, go ahead." Butterflies erupted in her stomach and flew around kamikaze style as soon as he stepped behind her. When the brush touched her head, her eyes fluttered closed. He brushed with long, gentle strokes, and she was surprised at how relaxed she felt all of a sudden. "You never told me how you managed to get away again."

"In addition to my three hours a week, I am also given one whole day a month. I chose to take it now."

"Oh, you must have some big plans in the works then, right?" she asked teasingly. The brush faltered for a moment, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Do you?"

"Do I what? Have big plans? Please. My biggest plan is to park my fat arse on the sofa and read a book my brother Charlie sent me."

"Then you're in luck, seeing as how I'm here to save you from complete and utter boredom." She half-turned to look at him.

"You're going to spend all of your day off with me?" she asked, her eyes slightly wider than usual. He shrugged and opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, she breathed, "That's lovely. I could do with a spot of company."

"With the company you normally keep, I can see that." She smiled and stepped away from him.

"I think I'd better get dressed," she said awkwardly.

"Don't bother with formalities on my account," he said, his voice suggestive. A burning sensation started low in her belly, which surprised her.

"Wouldn't want to give you any ideas," she said, forcing her voice to remain light. His eyes darkened as they looked at each other. "I was teasing, Malfoy."

"Seven."

"What?" she asked, blinking.

"I've seen seven women naked."

"Oh," she squeaked. She cleared her throat. "Do I count?"

"You're not completely naked."

"Oh," she repeated, the burning in her belly growing more intense. There was something about the look he was giving her; it was - well, it was almost - it was feral.

"You're not moving," he observed.

"I know."

"Invitation or confusion?" His voice was steady, and she wondered at it. He was so confident; she felt like a stupid schoolgirl. How could it be that he wasn't nervous at all?

"A little of both, maybe?" she answered. He watched her for a few moments before speaking.

"You shouldn't be so honest. It makes you vulnerable."

"Are you never honest, then?"

"I didn't say that."

"How can you tell that I'm being honest?"

"Seventy five percent of all communication is nonverbal, Weasley. You'd do well to remember that."

"So you're telling me that you know how to read people without using Legilimency on them?"

"Legilimency isn't necessary when people allow themselves to be open books for any passerby to read."

"So now I'm an open book?" she asked, smiling. "Okay. Tell me how you can read me."

"You're attracted to me but don't know why, and that confuses you."

"Is that a real assessment, or pure ego on your part?" she laughed.

"Your mind quite frequently wanders, and it's difficult to concentrate on any one thing without effort."

"I know a lot of people like that."

"At one time you were inexplicably attracted to Potter, but now your interest is waning, and you can't explain that, either." Her smile faded, and she stared at him. "Although you find that thoughts of someone else are taking the place of that interest. You're confused and don't know whether or not to act on your attraction."

"What would you do, in my situation? Would you act, or would you sit back and let whatever is going to happen, happen?"

"What if nothing happens?"

"Then nothing happens."

"And if your interest grows while nothing is happening?"

"I am not a child, Draco," she said quietly. It was the first time she'd ever used his given name, and it felt foreign on her tongue. He did not seem affected by it in the least. "If I have needs that are not fulfilled, I know that there are other ways of taking care of them."

"And what of the object of your interest?"

"What of him?"

"What will you do if the object of your interest keeps company with you on a regular basis and yet never shows any interest in you?"

"Then I suppose I'd be used to that, wouldn't I?" He stared intently at her, only breaking eye contact when she pushed past him and went into her room to change.

Once she was clothed, she found him lounging in an overstuffed armchair in her living room. She sat down on the sofa and tucked her legs beneath her.

"Why do you take it?" he asked, staring at the floor.

"Take what?"

"Potter's abuse."

"For the same reason you do, I suppose." He looked up at her. "Because I have to."

"How are you forced to endure it?"

"He's my brother's best friend. He's always going to be around me in one way or another. Why bother fighting it?"

"Why were you so attracted to him?"

"Hero worship."

"Is that all it was?"

"If it were anything more, don't you think it would have lasted?"

"It seems to have lasted for several years."

"On and off, perhaps. Never constant."

"And me?"

"What about you?"

"Is your attraction to me as strong as it was to him?"

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Can't you tell on your own?"

"Would I have asked if I could?"

"Maybe, if you just wanted to hear it said aloud."

"Do I really strike you as that egocentric?"

"I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer."

"You're avoiding my question."

"I just told you-"

"You know what question I'm referring to."

"What if I refuse to answer?"

"Then you refuse to answer."

"You won't have some sort of lasting curiosity about what my answer may have been?"

"Do you think me that obsessive?"

"Was that a rhetorical question?"

"How can you be attracted to me and him at the same time?"

"You're not as different as you'd like to think, you know. What I can't understand is why he doesn't see it - I know you must."

"He likes to play the martyr. I make him look better."

"How so?"

"In order for a light to shine brightly, the darkness must be present."

"Again with the fortune cookies," she sighed. "But I know what you're getting at. And I can see it."

"Don't patronize me."

"I'm not. Sometimes I think that's the only reason he keeps Ron around - to make himself look better."

"Most likely."

"So. What now? Are you hungry? Should I order you something?"

"I'm fine."

"Do you need anything? A drink, perhaps?"

"Alcohol dulls the senses."

"I thought that that was what time off was for. Besides, I have sobering potions here, if you need them."

"I don't drink," he said simply.

"Since when?"

"Since the last time I was drunk, it cost someone dear to me their life."

"Oh," she breathed. "Well, there went my chances of taking advantage of you when you're drunk," she teased.

"Is that something that you want from me?" he asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

"What? For you to get pissed in my flat?" she laughed.

"Sex."

"Merlin, Morgaine, and Nineve, you can be blunt!" she swore. "Haven't we already been down this conversational road?"

"Yes, but for some reason we've come back to it."

"Why don't we talk about something else?"

"Does the subject of sex make you uncomfortable?"

"When discussing it with you? You're damn right it does!"

"Why?"

"We've been enemies all of my life, until five days ago. Explain to me why I should feel comfortable talking to you about sex."

"You're attracted to me."

"And I'm a little uncomfortable about that too, to be perfectly honest!"

"Why?"

"For one, you know about it. How do I know that you won't use it against me?"

"You don't."

"And two, you've hated me for ninety nine percent of your life!"

"And you haven't hated me?"

"Not all the time - sometimes I pitied you."

"Your pity isn't wanted, nor is it needed."

"I figured as much."

"Then why offer it?"

"I didn't offer it." She sighed. "What exactly is it that you want from me, Draco? You said you wanted conversation, but we need to establish some boundaries if our current topic is going to be a frequent one."

"What attracted you to Creevey?" he asked.

"Nice subject change," she said sarcastically. "Really smooth. I don't know. I've been thinking for the most part that it was because he adored me and treated me like a queen."

"How could you stand to be with a man who wanted to hang on you every second of every day?"

"That part bothered me, as you already know. But the attention was nice sometimes. It's nice to feel as though someone knows you exist and have worth outside of being in Harry's circle of friends."

"Too much love brings a man no honor," he remarked coolly.

"Is that why you were upset by that photo he took?" she asked, tilting her head to one side. He tensed visibly.

"That was an old photograph, and it was personal. He had no right to it."

"It was an old picture?"

"It was among my personal effects in the room where I sleep."

"How did he get it?" she wondered aloud.

"Obviously he either went through my things himself, or had someone do it for him."

"Were you close?"

"Yes."

"Family?"

"Did we look like family?"

"Were you dating?"

"We were close."

"Why won't you tell me who she is?"

"It's none of your business."

"It's not like I'm going to tell anyone."

"You would be wise not to push this issue any further."

"I just want to know who she is."

"That is extremely personal information."

"You've just finished picking apart my love life for the last decade, and you can't tell me who she is?"

"Was."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"No, you're not. You didn't know her."

"That doesn't mean that I'm not sorry for your loss."

He stared into the fireplace, seemingly mesmerized by the flames. She rose and started into the kitchen, intent on pouring herself a glass of firewhiskey. Draco may not have been a drinker anymore, but that didn't mean that she couldn't have one.

"She was my wife."

She stopped and turned astonished eyes to him.

"Your what?"

"My wife."

"I don't remember reading anything about it in the Prophet, or hearing any announcements on the wireless."

"There were none."

"I find that hard to believe, with your family being so prominent. I would think that they would've observed the old customs."

"They did not approve of her."

"Why? Wasn't she well-off like your family?" She stared at him for a long time, and then suddenly it dawned on her. In the photograph, there had been a movie theatre in the background. "She was a Muggle," she breathed. Suddenly his defection made perfect sense.

"They did not approve of her," he repeated softly, still staring into the flames. She walked to the chair where he was sitting and touched her fingertips lightly to his shoulder before heading into the kitchen to pour herself a drink. When she returned, he had moved, and was standing in front of the fireplace. Instead of speaking, she sat down on the sofa and sipped from her coffee mug. After a while, he broke the silence. "Had you ever considered that perhaps the reason that you don't sleep well at night has something to do with the amount of coffee that you drink?"

"And what makes you think that I don't sleep well at night?"

"The circles beneath your eyes tell me." She raised a hand to touch fingertips to the skin below her eyes, and he turned to look at her.

"It takes one to know one," she retorted, her hand dropping. He shrugged once.

"If you say so."

"Do you really want to talk about this?"

"No."

"Then that's settled. What would you like to do next?"

He thought for a moment. "Bathe."

"Bathroom's that way," she said, gesturing with a nod of the head. "Towels are in the closet just outside of the bathroom." He nodded and disappeared into the hallway.