Chapter Forty-Eight

Heartbeats

The price of getting what you want is getting what once you wanted.

Dream, in Dream Country

---

There was an uncomfortable silence in the cave and Harry tried not to display his own uneasiness.

“That’s it?” said Blaise doubtfully.  “That’s your grand plan?”

Harry sighed.  “I know it’s not the greatest but-”

“It’s barely a plan at all!” retorted Ron.  

Harry flopped on the ground, closing his eyes to ease the headache that was forming. He had only been in the cave for a few days and the tension was already starting to take its toll. He and Ron never had a disagreement before but Ron’s hunger contributed by his sour attitude.  It was little conflicts like this that made Harry want to leave them all behind.

“I told you it was going to be hard,” he mumbled back.  

“Yeah, but we thought that maybe there was someway we could help you.”  Neville looked around nervously, worried that the group around him would attack him in protest.  “But I don’t think that it’s a good enough plan.  We came here to the middle of nowhere to make a difference.”

“Yes,” agreed Daphne.  “Instead, we sit here miserably in a dank cave waiting for you to get your head properly on your shoulders.”  

Harry snorted, Daphne was exaggerating their situation considerably.  It was true they were in a cave, but it was hardly a dump.  They had magic after all, and while the ground was stone, the place was well lit, they could Apparate in order to buy food and everyone had a comfortable place to sleep.  And his plan was weak, even he would admit that, but it wasn’t as if he was the only one capable of thinking.  They were perfectly able to come up with their own suggestions.  For some reason his own friends seemed incapable of coming up with their own solutions.

But Harry’s suggestion that they should lie low for several months before taking any action jolted them out of their own complacency.  It was to be expected; Harry had the nature of Slytherin patience; it was his friends who were unhappy to wait as The Dark Lord gained power.  They had talent, skill, and the spirit but they were lacking in experience, and Harry wasn’t willing to risk them so callously.  

However, even Blaise and Daphne were unhappy with him.  They had made a leap of faith in trusting him and wanted results.  Learning that Harry’s plan was to wait it out was something they were not willing to tolerate.

Fortunately, Harry was saved from further arguments when Cedric walked into the cave, followed closely by Fred.  Cedric looked more worn and dirty than before but their smiles indicated that they were in good spirits.

"Hello all,” Cedric said, his arms full with bags.  "We brought you some supplies.  We figured you didn't think about a lot of things that you might need."

"Yeah," said Fred who had dumped his own lot on the floor.  "The vital things like toothbrushes and pillows."

There were a few chuckles from the crowd as they had been guilty of forgetfulness.

"Hey, Cedric.  Can I talk to you for a minute?"  Harry took a look a Fred and the other boy.  Even though they looked a bit scruffier than what was normal, for the most part they looked happy.  Harry couldn't say the same for his friends.  They had been dissatisfied from the very start.  As much as it galled him to think it, Cedric looked like he was doing a better job of leading.

They exited the dark cave, the sun hidden behind the grey clouds.

Harry pointed off to a dot in the distance. “Meet me by the tree, it’s not safe here,” he said before he Apparated away.

The cave Harry had chosen was a tricky hiding place.  It was brilliant because on the other side was the cave the Dark Lord had picked to hide his Horcrux.  Harry had politely asked a Dobby the house-elf to search out the location based on an old map he had found in Regulus’ belongings.  Dobby had been the Malfoy’s elf for a long enough time that he was easily able to recognize the dark magic present.  The Dark Lord didn’t care to send very many people in their direction.  He didn’t want to anyone to notice the spark of magic in the air and there the nearest town used the area for animal grazing.  So Harry and his friends were hidden in plain sight.  Conversely, Harry knew it was unwise to use any magic in the immediate area, if the Dark Lord showed up, they could be easily found.

Harry quickly set up the protection spells before turning to Cedric.  "How do you do it?"

"Er what?"  Cedric looked at Harry with puzzlement.  "I don't quite follow you."

Harry huffed in frustration; he had hoped that Cedric wouldn’t need an explicit explanation.  "How do you lead people?"  It came out a bit blunter than he had hoped, but the shame had muddled his thinking.

"I don't know."  Cedric shrugged.  "I mean, I just do what I always did.  Are you having some problems?"

"Yes."  Harry kicked a rock on the ground and watched it skid away.  "The others don't want to follow me.  I tell them we should stay put and they keep insisting that we should be going out there and doing something.  They are starting to get anxious and I don't know what to say to them.  I know that they want to help out, but that wasn't the point of us coming out here.  The point was that we would be safe as long as they couldn't find us.  I'm afraid they are going to start doing their own thing and I won't have control of them anymore."

Cedric frowned.  "Is that important?  The control?"

"Yes," Harry responded promptly.  Cedric arched his eyebrow in surprise.  "If you don't have control it means things become unpredictable.  It means chaos.  The Wizarding World is barely holding on as it is; it wouldn't be wise to add more stress to the occasion."

"Ah," said Cedric.  "Now there is your problem."

"What?"  

"Well, you've always been in control.  I went along with your plans because I thought they were good and it never occurred to me to do something else.  It wasn't until Dumbledore questioned me why I should voluntarily get myself expelled that I really thought about what you made me do.  I don't have a grudge against you; if I was really against it I probably would have told you to go back to your dungeon.  But it did get me thinking.  

‘One of the main reasons I followed you is because you had a plan.  You told me what your goals were and how we needed to accomplish them.  It was a good enough reason for me to follow you.  But whatever you have in mind isn't good enough right now for people to stay put.  They want to follow you, but the idea of action right now is more appealing than your long-term goal.  If you want them to follow you, you have a choice to make.  One is to change your goal to something they like or you are going to have to abandon the idea completely."

Harry frowned.  "I don't like either of those ideas."

His friend laughed.  "Yeah, well you don't have much of a choice."

"I didn't want them around anyway.  They were the ones insisting to come along with me!  I don't see why I'm the one that has to change my plans for them!"

Cedric crossed his arms.  "They are your friends.  They help each other out in tough spots and sometimes you give a little.  But that's why you care for each other.”

Harry snorted.  "You sound like a greeting card company.  Have you been busy writing love notes to Katie again?"

Cedric's cheeks turned red in embarrassment.  "Leave Katie out of this."

"Oh, did I hit a sore spot?"  Harry teased.  "How far have you gotten with her?"

"That's none of your business."

Harry gave a wry smile.  "All the way then.  Good for you."  

"It's not like that," Cedric argued.  "I mean, yeah, she's great.  I mean really..." he drifted off a bit.  "But I think she's something special, so I would appreciate it if you didn't talk about her like she's the soup of the day.  Actually when she's in a good mood, she gives me this smile-"

"Ugh.  Never mind.  I don't care.”  Harry winced.  “I hope someone shoots me in the face before I'm ever as soppy as you."  

Cedric scowled.  "It's easy for you to say that because you've never been in love.  Once you find the right person it's so easy for you to change.  You become someone better."

Harry stared at his friend in disbelief.  He wished he had heard these words from Cedric before bothering to ask for advice.  “I can’t believe you are such a moron; love isn’t like that at all.  It means giving a piece of yourself to someone else, so they can bend and break you as they wish.  It means making yourself vulnerable and weak.  I'm going to pass on the almighty love option."

Cedric looked at him in astonishment.  "You're joking."

"No, I'm not."

Cedric ruffled his hair in frustration.  "It's not like that, not at all. Yeah, I guess you make yourself vulnerable, but what you get back is something equally amazing.  I don't know how to describe it."

"I believe the word you are searching for is painful.”  

Cedric threw up his arms in frustration.  "You have friends!  It's almost the same thing.  Only this time you want to hang around them and have jokes and tell stories.  It means you want to do things for other people.  The only difference is the intensity, not the intention."

Harry shook his head.  This isn’t what he came out here to talk about.  "Either way, I think you’re an idiot," he said, hoping to draw the subject to close.

“If I’m such an idiot, then why do people fall in love all the time?  In all of history, your parents, my parents, you name it!  And if love is so stupid, why are you out here with your friends trying to fight a Dark Lord that you have no choice in defeating?”

“Revenge,” replied Harry promptly.  “The Dark Lord tried to kill me when I was a child, so he’s going to be after me either way.  I have nothing else to do but wait around until he succeeds, but it doesn’t mean I can’t make it difficult for him.”

The annoyance disappeared from Cedric’s face as he grew pale.  “You don’t know that.”

Harry shrugged.  “He’s not going to stop hunting me down.”

“Okay, but maybe he’ll get bored with trying to find you.”  There was a look of fear in Cedric’s eyes that was almost tangible and for that, Harry pitied him.

“Annoyed, yes.  Furious, definitely.  But he will never get bored.  As long as I’m alive, I am a blight on his existence.  That’s simply how things are.”  Perhaps Harry could have used lighter words to soften the blow, but he knew that it was important that Cedric understood.  

Cedric frowned unhappily.  “I understand your point, but I wish there was a way around it.”

Harry opened his mouth, only to shut in again with an audible click.  “There are ways around everything, but perhaps not in the way you desire,” he said with a dreary voice.

“What?” Cedric looked at him in confusion.  

“There are ways around everything,” Harry repeated.  He was certain that the answer was right in front of him, but with his sluggish mind he had difficulty finding it.  “Desire.  You can’t have your desires.  But if I can’t have my desire does it mean that it’s love?”

Cedric was leaning against the tree, a look of befuddlement on his face.  “You’ve lost me completely.”

Harry turned to look Cedric properly.  “When you search for an answer to a problem, you try to figure out a way around it.  But sometimes it doesn’t work out because the solution is something that you want even less.  Dumbledore claimed that my mother’s love was what protected me when I was attacked as a child.  Fine, I took his word for it on that matter.  But I’ve never been fond of love.  I can’t see how it is a practical solution for my present situation.  And I don’t think about it because I think it causes more trouble that it’s worth.”

Harry tapped his fingers unconsciously against the tree trunk as the tiny ideas began to weave together.

“But love belongs to Desire, and I didn’t think about asking him.  Her.  It.”

“Err…”  

“Yeah, I know.  It makes no sense.  But trust me on this Cedric.  I have no idea what I’m going to do.  But I know someone who could lead me in the right direction. Meet me here with some ideas next week.  Hopefully, I’ll have figured out what to do by then.”

Harry was anxious the rest of the night.  He did not dream, instead waking just before he entered the real of the Sandman.

Harry didn’t really know how to get to Desire’s realm, but he still had the sand.   So with an idea in his head and the Horcruxes in his pocket, he bid a hasty goodbye after breakfast.  He Apparated into the deserted forest where the Quidditch World Cup was once held.  After setting up the protection spells, Harry dipped his hand into the bag of sand.

A feeling of warmth traveled up his arm and a comfortable sensation of belonging settled in his brain as he tossed it in the air. The area grew foggy; a deep red mist filled his vision.  When it cleared, he found himself in front of Desire, whose face was filled with shock and joy.

“It’s rude of you not to knock,” said Desire.  

“I don’t even know where the door is,” Harry replied as he looked at moist red walls.  He pressed a hand against the surface and it shuddered.  Harry pulled his hand back in astonishment.

Desire offered Harry a cigarette.  “All you have to do is want and one will open up for you.  I would have let you in.”

“I don’t smoke,” he replied even as he took the cigarette.

“Today you do,” Desire said with a coy smile on its face.  “So what brings you to me?”

“You know,” Harry said.  

“Yes, I do.  But it’s not real until you say the words to me out loud.  Until then, they are just ideas.  I want you to tell me what you want.”

“Oh.” He licked his lips, the taste of tobacco full in his mouth.  “I want to make a deal with you.”

Desire smiled and laughed.  “I knew it.  You were always mine Harry, no matter want my other family members think.  I knew it wouldn’t be long before you came to me.  So what is this little deal you had in mind?”

“I want you to help me defeat Voldemort, Tom Riddle, whatever you call him.”  Harry saw Desire make a face of distaste.

“I have little interest in him.”  The lighting in the room grew dim as Desire began to play with a trinket on the table.

“What?” replied Harry in confusion. “I thought that you want everything.  Isn’t that against your nature or something?”

For a brief instant, Desire’s face turned ugly.  “I’ll humor you and explain, but don’t think that you are able to tell me what my nature is.

Desire’s agitation was apparent as it had begun to pace along the room.  “I want Voldemort whole and complete.  I want him to bend on his knees and plead, to cry and scream.  I want him to long for something so fiercely that in consumes him so much he can’t even remember anything else in his life.” Desire’s clenched its hands, its nostrils flaring slightly.  The cigarette ash dribbled onto the floor, leaving a dirty smudge on the luxurious carpet.

“But Voldemort split his soul.  I have little use for such fleeting abominations.  He wanted to be immortal and as for the most part he was successful.  Besides, the quest for immortality has shaped his life and that that sort of thing is more of Death’s affair.  It’s a sticky situation that I want no part of.  Hmph…I could have made him truly immortal, I’ve done it before.”

Harry’s interest was peaked.  “Anyone I’ve heard of?”

The distrust melted away from Desires’ face.  “There have been a few.  Perhaps you have heard of Shakespeare?”

Harry snorted in disbelief.  “I’m fairly certain that Dream is responsible for making the playwright famous, stories belong to him.”

“It is a manner of perspective, dear Harry.  It’s simply perspective.  Despair was there for the tragedy, Delirium for the comedy.  Dream gave him ideas, the words, but the heart was mine.”  Desire’s smile turned coy.  “I met him in a pub once, but that was all it took for him to write something about me.

Shall I compare thee to summer’s day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

Harry stared as Desire recited the poem.  His knowledge of Shakespeare was minimal, but even he knew this sonnet, and the debate on whether the subject was a man or a woman.

“And Summer’s lease hath all too short and so forth.  There’s more to the poem, but you get the point.  It’s not the words that make Shakespeare immortal, although Dream would like to claim as such.  It’s the love behind it.”

“Why would I bother with someone like Voldemort when I have future Shakepeare’s to look forward to?” It raised a thin eyebrow in question.  “I don’t think I’ll be a part of this deal unless if you can offer me something better.”

Harry squirmed under Desire’s golden eyes, his heart thumping faster with every second.  “I’m asking for your help and I never have before.  It’s something you’ve always wanted.”  He reached into his pocket and pulled out the diadem, locket, and diary and placed it on a nearby table.  “I don’t know how to destroy the Horcruxes.  I want you to tell me how to defeat Voldemort.”

“Now why would I do that?” Desire asked with a tilt of its head.

“Love is something he never understood; which means he hates you and you can’t stand that.  You want him gone or at least humiliated.  Since the Horcruxes are parts of his soul that should give you a little power over him.”

“Such a small goals, Harry.  Why pick one when you can have them both?”  She approached the table with the Horcruxes and lifted the diary in her hands.  Flicking the page open with delicate fingernails, Desire stopped when it reached a certain page and hummed.  

“All right, I think you have something here.  But there are two slight problems to this.  One is obvious.  Voldemort split his soul and you only gave me three parts.  I’m going to need the others.”

Harry nodded.  “I thought so.  I don’t have them yet, but I’m working on it.”

“The other problem is you.  Does this mean I get to keep you as well?”

“Er… I don’t follow.”  There was something in Desire’s smile that left Harry deeply unsettled.

“Well…”  She walked over a traced a painted fingernail on his scar.  The actions sent a tingle down Harry’s body and straight to his belly.  “You ARE a Horcrux.”

Harry jerked back.  The energy inside of him gave a twist that caused his vision to swim.  

“What?” he hissed.

The cool smile on Desire’s face only grew sharper.  “Little Tom Riddle left a gift in you that night.  He didn’t mean to but things don’t go to plan when Delirium is around.”  She lifted up the diadem and placed it on top of her head.  “Oh, don’t be so shocked, you knew this was coming.”

Harry spun around to run away from Desire, his feet squishing against the velvet floor.  A door opened up as he ran towards the wall, taking him to a long twisting hallway.  It was sleek and ominous, with pictures and posters and paintings of Desire hung in every direction.

He didn’t look back.  It his head, (in his heart?) he knew that running was a futile action; Desire was all-powerful in its realm.  But Harry didn’t like the feeling of helplessness that rushed over him.  He should have known better to think that Desire would help him.

He wasn’t certain how long he went on, but eventually the emotion that fueled his running drained.  The pointlessness became more apparent as his surroundings began to repeat, as if he was stuck in some early animated cartoon.  Harry collapsed onto the ground next to the statue he had already passed fifteen times, his breath coming in gasps.

He was a Horcrux like the snake and he already knew the snake had to die.  He already knew that the odds of him living were minimal.  But finding out he had been screwed over from the very start burned.

“There is a way around it.”

Harry looked up to Desire, mentally exhausted and emotionally shaken.  “Go away,” he pleaded in vain.  “I’m not in the mood for games.”  The pieces of his self-control were becoming lax again and he could feel the strange power inside of him give yet another twist.  

He heard Desire inhale sharply.  

“I spoke to Death a few weeks ago.  The others and I had dinner and she spoke of… things.  She made it explicitly clear that we were to leave you alone and your choices were your own. This isn’t a game, Harry.”

He didn’t feel like listening to Desire’s words; he knew that half of it would be lies with just enough truth to make it sound true.  But Death had said she would talk to the Endless.

“What’s the way around?” he asked as his curiosity won out.

“You have to let your guard down.  Let someone inside of that wriggly little soul of yours.”  

“No.”  Harry dropped the cigarette and stamped on it for emphasis.

“So quick to turn down my words.”  Desire shrugged.  “It doesn’t matter, I suppose.  I can’t make you do anything that you don’t want to, that rule was established long ago.  But if we make a deal; I can help you.”

Harry didn’t reply; content to let the moment linger as long as possible.  “What kind of deal?”

“When your mother died she left a protection on you to keep you alive.”  Desire leaned against the wall, still as the statue she stood next to.

He nodded. “I know that.  But I thought the protection was broken when I turned of age.”

Desire rolled its eyes.  “Human.  The power didn’t break; it only became dormant.  And Voldemort renewed some of the power when he used some of your blood to come back to life.  Because he was such a monumental idiot, I am able to do this.”  

She reached into her coat pocket and withdrew the locket and diary and pushed them together.  They began to melt in Desire’s hands, glowing red hot before cooling.  Desire reached on top of her head and removed the diadem to repeat the process.  When she was finished, she held something like a piece of glass in her hands.  The form was indistinguishable, far too lumpy to have the dramatic effect Harry had been anticipating.

“Voldemort could return the pieces of his soul if he wished, but that is unlikely to occur.” Desire murmured as it caressed the glass in its hands.  “But the blood connection that he took from you is enough to join the three pieces of his soul as if they were never apart.  I’ll be able to do that with the other pieces as well.  Where are they?”

“There is the snake that’s always around Voldemort, it’s really big.  And then there is the Hufflepuff cup which I think is in a goblin vault, but I don’t know which one.” Harry swallowed with difficulty.  “And me, I guess.  There was a ring, but Dumbledore destroyed that.  I don’t think you are going to get that part back.”  Every word that Harry spoke brought back that same helpless sensation of being out of control.

“Six out of seven pieces is very good.  I’m not going to ask Death to retrieve that missing piece for me; we don’t need any more complications.”

“You said there was a way around it,” Harry said in irritation.

Desire sneered.  “I’m getting there, you silly boy.  The blood protection melds the pieces of his soul together with little effort; someone other than me could attempt to do this and succeed.  The ability extends to the piece of soul that is in you.”

Harry felt another jolt of power twist through him.  “What do I have to do?”

“When you think the time is right for you to remove the Horcrux, think of someone you love.  It should be enough to keep you alive.”

“Really?”  Harry was dumbfounded.  It was such a simple action; a mere thought could keep him tethered to life.  And finally, all of those half-dreamt-of ideas, the wants and wishes could have a possibility of existence.  He could become a dragon trainer, or a potions master, or laze about as an anonymous Muggle for the rest of his life.  And yet, the task itself was monumental; he had to find someone to love.

Harry had climbed a few mountains that were less daunting.

“Okay, I think I can do something about that.”  He felt a flush creep up his neck, too embarrassed to admit he didn’t know where to start.  “What about the other Horcruxes?  Can you tell me where they are?”

“Of course not.  Those things are cut off from my realm.  But you’ve done well for yourself so far.”  Desire beckoned him over. “Come here.”

Harry took a hesitant step forward.  Desire slid a hand underneath his shirt, pressing its thumbs on a spot above his heart.  A wave of heat radiated at the touch, then fading just as quickly as it came.

“I’ve marked you as mine.  When you find the cup, you are to bring it to me.  There is a room in your Ministry of Magic that is a portal into my realm.  The mark will allow you easy entrance.  It could assist you as well, if presented with the right opportunity.”

“What about the sand? I still have some.”  Harry looked the circular burn mark on his chest above his heart.  It didn’t look like it would heal over time.  

Desire frowned.  “No, that would be unwise.  There is power in that sand, using it twice for the same purpose could create a circle you would be unable to control.”  

The strange mist began to descend again and seconds later was back again in the field.  The sun was setting, casting the sky in a rainbow of red, pink, and gold hues.  Harry sighed in disappointment.  He was no closer to find the definitive location of the other two Horcruxes and he had not been given a plan.  Plus, he had a new burn mark for his troubles.

Despite this, Harry went back to the cave with a lighter heart.

In the United States…

Sarah rubbed the back of her neck to ease the knot that was beginning to form.  She turned her head to see the time, only to scowl.  The Elvis clock on the wall had broken down the week before, the swinging hips that counted time were now irritatingly still.  She really hoped the manager would fix it sometime soon.

Tucking the pad of paper in her hand, Sarah wiped down the table in front of her, and taking the dirty plates to the back.  When she emerged from the kitchen she found a young man sitting at the counter of the diner.  He was placing his denim jacket on the chair next to him.

“What can I get for you, Hun?” Sarah asked to the unknown customer.  

The young man smiled.  “I don’t know.  I’ll take whatever the cook thinks is best.”

“All right.  I’ll let him know.”

Sarah made her way to the kitchen where the cook was beginning to remove some of the dirty dishes and place them in a sink.  “House Special for one, Gary.  He’s the last customer in the diner, so don’t get too carried away.”

The cook chuckled as he made his way over to the stove.  Sarah took a left and entered the owner’s tiny office.  He was already gone, having served breakfast for the morning crowd.  She grabbed the clock off of his desk, the prize for winning some sort of city food contest.  Only half an hour left before she could go home.  Smiling, she clunked it on the table, gave her neck a pop to ease the stiffness, and went back to the kitchen.

“Is the food ready yet?” she called out to Gary.  Perhaps if she could get the customer to leave, she could go home a few minutes early.

“Yeah,” he said, flipping the burger on the bun and sliding the plate her direction.

Sarah lifted the plate and went back to the front of the store.

“Here you go-” The words died in her mouth as she caught sight of the scene before her.  The young man was still sitting on his stool, but there were small mental pieces strewn about the counter top.  Next to the stranger’s hand were bits of Elvis, his legs and torso disconnected.

“What are you doing!”  Sarah clutched the plate tightly to keep from tossing it at the boy’s head in anger; if she threw it she would have to pick up the mess anyway.  The clock was one of the owner’s favorite items, a souvenir from his trip to Graceland.  He would absolutely kill her if he found out she had let a customer touch it.  She took a deep breath.  “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

The young man’s reaction was a sheepish smile.  “I normally don’t snatch things off of diner walls, but I noticed this was broken.  I thought I would fix it for you.”  He shrugged and went back to examining the tiny gears in front of him.

Sarah looked at him doubtfully, uncertain if he was being serious or not.  She slid the plate on the countertop and leaned over to see.  He had a pair of tweezers and he was assembling the clock once more.

“You know what you’re doing,” she said bluntly, astonished that someone his age knew about timepieces.  The only watchmakers she knew of were retired men who took up the practice as a hobby.

The young man chuckled.  “I grew up in a town with a lot of clocks; someone had to keep them in order.  Besides, I met Elvis once; he would have been very disappointed to see it wasn’t working.  He worked very hard for his fame, and he loved the joy his music brought to other people.”

Sarah laughed.  The stranger was in his twenties, it was more likely that he had been born after Elvis had died.  “Where did you meet him?” she asked, playing along with his little game.

“In the park,” the stranger replied.  “Elvis had a slight heart attack and after that he became a bit of a health enthusiast.  It was easy to spot him because of all the rhinestones sown onto his jogging pants.  Of course that was far away from here.  You wouldn’t be able to find him.”  He set down his screwdriver and clicked the battery back in place.  Immediately, Elvis’ legs began to swish back and forth.

Sarah goggled at the clock in amazement.   It was comforting seeing it working, as if the world had been set right once again.  She turned to the stranger who was already halfway done with his dinner.

“Thank you…” Sarah floundered at his name.

“Prez,” said the young man.  “Prez Rickard.”

“Hmm… that’s a rare name. Is it short for anything?”

There was an elusive smile on the boy’s lips.  “Not really.  Although some have joked that it is short for President.”

“I’ll tell you what Mr. President. Since you fixed the clock, dessert is on the house.  What will you have?  Tina in the back makes some excellent lemon meringue.”

“Actually,” Prez said with a smile, “I thinking about some of the apple pie.”