“Harry!”

The voice sounded as if it were coming from a long distance, and he could vaguely feel gentle hands tugging on him, trying to get him to do something. The soft blackness around him seemed safe, and he felt so tired, he just wanted to stay here.

“Harry, please let go so we can help him.” The voice was firm, familiar and well loved. “Please, Harry, he’s hurt, let him go.”

It was Remus speaking, Harry thought, and someone was hurt. He struggled to overcome the darkness, holding on to the sound of the soothing voice, firm, yet gentle. As he slowly won the battle to become conscious, a wave of pain ripped through his head, and it felt like the top of his skull had been ripped off. The strong hands of his godfather gripped his left wrist, gently trying to pry his fingers open.

Opening his eyes painfully, Harry found himself suspended above the floor of the Gryffindor common room, his right hand clasped firmly around the warm scarlet tail-feathers of Fawkes the Phoenix, and the other locked in a death grip around the ankle of Severus Snape. Snape, partially covered by Harry’s invisibility cloak, hung upside down, his black robes hanging down to his great hooked nose, stringy, greasy, black hair brushing the floor, his skinny, pallid legs exposed, and…

Harry gasped, horrified as he caught a glimpse of pink silk underpants, and let go of Snape as if burned. Remus and Ron caught the mercifully unconscious Potions Master, and lowered him carefully to a cot that stood on the floor waiting. Remus stood quickly and reaching up, took Harry’s weight into his arms.

“Let go, son, I have you.” Remus said softly, as Harry felt himself begin to shake. “Fawkes needs to get back and help Dumbledore, Harry.”

With conscious effort, Harry loosened his grip on the spectacular tail-feathers as Remus supported him. Fawkes circled the room before taking off through the open window. Harry found himself being eased into another cot that had appeared next to the one that held the unconscious Snape. The shakiness that he had felt turned into whole body tremors, Harry was suddenly very cold, as if he’d been immersed in icy water, and his head continued to pulse with pain. The brightness of the room caused his eyes to water, and he closed them tightly, his stomach suddenly lurching.

“Ginny! Run to the hospital wing and get Madame Pomfrey, tell her I think that Professor Snape has been brushed by a killing curse, and maybe Harry too!”

Harry could hear running footsteps as he tried to remember what had happened outside. He knew that he had been successful in stalling Voldemort until the Auror squads had arrived, remembered hearing Dumbledore’s voice as Fawkes appeared, and he had managed to grab Snape as he was lifted up. The very last thing he remembered was the jet of green light that had flashed around him, as they rose straight up towards the castle walls.

“Harry, can you tell me where it hurts?” Hermione’s voice was soft in his ear, and he felt her gentle hands brush back his hair. “Remus! Harry’s bleeding!”

“Ron, stay right here and watch Snape! Keep your hand on his chest and make sure he keeps breathing.”

Harry frowned, Remus sounded scared, and the movement came with fresh pain to his head. He reached a hand up to rub at his scar, but it was gently restrained.

“Let me take your wand, Harry, or you’re going to poke yourself in the eye.” Hermione said, her fingers enfolding Harry’s as they took his wand and slipped it into his pocket.

He opened one eye to squint up at her pale, worried face leaning over his left side. His godfather loomed over his head, face pale and set, and he could feel strong fingers probing his scalp.

“Ouch!” Harry blurted out as he felt a sharp stab of pain, his hand shooting up toward the top of his head, only to be batted away by his godfather.

“Hermione, find me a clean cloth, please. Harry, can you tell me what hurts?” Remus’ voice was soothing, although Harry could feel his hands working their way down his neck to his shoulders and over his chest.

“My…my head, mostly…and I’m just a little shaky…but, is Snape going to be alright? Where…where is everyone else? No…no one else got hurt, did they?”

Remus’ hands were still tracing their way down Harry’s body, and stopped suddenly at a point between his shoulder blades. “Harry, I need you to sit up for me, okay?” His voice sounded strained. “Hermione! I need your help!”

Harry felt gentle pressure beneath his shoulders. “Remus? What’s wrong?” Opening his eyes slowly, Harry was able to tolerate the bright daylight filtering through the windows of the common room. He saw Ron, so pale his freckles stood out in stark relief, hovering over Snape, intently watching his hand on the black clad chest as it rose and fell in slow, shallow breaths. Slowly, with assistance, Harry sat up, his head throbbing sharply, and struggled to help Remus and Hermione peel his robes down his arms. Harry started to lie back, but Remus stopped him.

“I need to look at your back, Harry, so just stay like that for a minute, okay?”

Hermione held on to Harry’s arms and helped to keep him upright, as he felt his godfather cut open the back of his jumper with his wand. Remus’ sudden intake of breath, told Harry there was something wrong.

“Remus? What’s wrong?” Harry was still shaky, but felt more alert than he had.

“I’m not sure, Harry, but it looks like you’ve been burned a bit.” Remus tried to keep his tone light. “Although, to be honest, I have never seen anything quite like it.”

Harry could feel Remus spreading something on the cot behind him and then he was eased back down. Hermione handed a small white towel to Remus and she knelt back down beside the cot, looking every bit as pale as Ron. Gently, Harry could feel Remus press the towel to the tender area along the backside of his head.

“What’s going on out there?” Harry asked.

“We’re not sure,” Hermione answered. “We watched you walk out, or tried to as it was still dark in that corner of the yard, and could see Voldemort appear before you even got halfway across! We saw the flash of green light and Snape fall.” She hesitated, biting her lip. “We thought he was dead, Harry, and there you were, out there, again, on your own with Voldemort!”

“It was then,” Remus picked up the narration, “that we realized you must have pushed Severus down. The shadows made it hard to properly see, it looked like you were doing everything you could to keep Voldemort busy until the Aurors arrived.” Remus smoothed Harry’s hair back from his forehead. “Well done, Harry!” he said quietly, in a very proud voice.

“Yes, Harry, well done!” Hermione smiled at him.

“Yeah, erm, thanks.” Harry mumbled, still feeling shaky and cold. “Then what happened?”

Hermione threw the invisibility cloak over him, the reverse side out, like a blanket. “Well, Fawkes showed up with Professor Dumbledore and, you grabbed his tail, as well as Snape, lifting you both off the ground and away. Voldemort was really angry, Harry, he sent one last Avada Kedavra at you, and it looked like it hit you square in the back! We were so scared, Harry! When we saw Fawkes headed up toward Gryffindor Tower, we threw open the window to let him in!”

“We thought you were dead, mate.” Ron spoke at last, a hoarse whisper, his eyes still on the rise and fall of Snape’s chest.

The scar on Harry’s forehead exploded in excruciating pain, and a moan escaped him as Harry grabbed at his head, his body trying to curl into a fetal position. Remus and Hermione attempted to keep him still, as the cot rocked with his sudden movements. Darkness crept into the edges of his consciousness, as Harry smoothed the walls protecting his thoughts, and fought against the pain. Vaguely, he heard running footsteps, and then felt the familiar cool, long fingers that gently pulled his hands away, and laid themselves on his forehead. Harry curled his right hand around that wrist, and felt the left hand taken and held by Hermione’s soft, trembling hands.

Warmth infused him, driving out the cold, icy feeling that had come back full force with the searing pain in his head. The pain eased as a note of Phoenix song filled his mind, and Harry knew that Fawkes was nearby. He slowly opened his eyes, a blur of scarlet robes embroidered in gold filled his view.

“Headmaster! I must get Professor Snape to the hospital wing at once!” Madame Pomfrey’s voice came from nearby, sounding strained with anxiety.

“Alright, Poppy, take him. We will be along with Harry in just a moment.” Dumbledore told her, leaning down to meet Harry’s eyes. “Harry?”

Harry tried to speak, but his throat would not cooperate. He tightened his grip on Dumbledore’s wrist and tried again. “What happened…Voldemort? He’s really happy.”

Someone pressed a goblet to his lips and let a bit of water trickle down his throat. Harry swallowed and tried to sit up, only to be restrained by a half a dozen hands.

“Harry, lie still!” Remus’ voice was sharp and came from above him, where he was still pressing a cloth gently to the back of Harry’s head.

“Harry, what do you remember after Fawkes appeared?” Dumbledore shifted so that Harry could see his face, his blue eyes very bright over the top of the half-moon glasses.

“I remember hearing your voice, and then Fawkes lifting me and Snape, er, Professor Snape up into the air.” Harry frowned, found that it still hurt and stopped. “I remember a flash of green light around us, and then nothing until Remus wanted me to let go…bloody…Professor!” Harry was suddenly frantic. “Snape is going to kill me when he finds out that I did just what my dad did to him, but I didn’t mean to do it.” He tried again to sit up.

“Harry! Calm down and lie still!” Dumbledore thundered at him, which had the desired effect, as Harry stopped instantly. “Harry, Severus Snape is not going to say a word, believe me. He will be too engaged fuming over the fact that you saved his life twice today, to worry about everyone seeing his underwear.” A twinkle passed fleetingly through Dumbledore’s eyes, before they darkened again. “What I would like to know, however, is how you managed to survive being hit with another killing curse by Lord Voldemort, Harry.”

Harry blinked at his Headmaster. “What?”

“Granted, you did not escape unscathed, as it looks like you have some nasty scorch marks on your back and some type of injury to your head, but I watched the curse hit you, and even at that distance you should be dead.” Albus Dumbledore’s blue eyes were haunted. “It was only when you did not lose your grip on Fawkes, that I knew you were still alive.”

“But, why?” Harry stammered, not sure he understood what he was being told.

“I do not know, Harry, though I do have a theory: I believe that the protection your mother gave you that night in Godric’s Hollow remains with you to this day. Voldemort, however, believes that he killed you, even though we took a number of Death Eaters into custody, and Voldemort was forced to flee. That is why he is so happy.”

Harry sagged into the cot, feeling like he had failed. “So, everything we did today was for nothing? Voldemort will be back as soon as he hears I survived?”

“I do not believe that Voldemort will make any attempt to come to Hogwarts again, Harry.” Dumbledore chuckled. “He did not like Hagrid’s little brother.”

“Grawp?” Harry and Hermione asked together.

“I do believe that is his name, and he decided that he did not like Lord Voldemort.” Dumbledore looked over the top of his half-moon spectacles at Harry. “And it is almost impossible to stop a giant with magic, you know. He had everyone, even Voldemort fleeing from him!”

Harry started to laugh, and stopped quickly when he found that hurt too. “Everyone else is alright, then? No one else got hurt?”

“A few bruises here and there, but otherwise all are fine. We need to get you to the hospital wing before Madam Pomfrey comes after you.” Dumbledore stood up and Harry felt the cot float up, too.

It was a silent group that trailed after Harry up to the hospital wing, Dumbledore at his side and Remus maintaining his pressure on Harry’s head. As they entered the ward, Harry could see curtains positioned around a bed at the far end of the wing and was glad when Madame Pomfrey directed his cot be placed by the bed nearest the door. The curtains went up around his bed, and everyone disappeared with the exception Remus and Dumbledore. They helped Harry ease out of his clothes, and into pajama bottoms, carrying him between them to the bed. The exertion had started Harry shaking again, and Remus sat beside him as Dumbledore went in search of Madame Pomfrey.

Harry closed his eyes, curling up as he lay on his side, while Remus tucked blankets loosely around him. His head still throbbed painfully, his shoulders felt stiff and were starting to sting, and he felt shaky again. Remus sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers soothing the lightening bolt scar. Harry knew he was safe with his godfather beside him, and slipped into the gentle darkness that beckoned him.

A whispered conversation near his bed woke Harry, as the whispers were heated and increasing in volume rapidly, but his foggy brain couldn’t identify the voices. He kept his eyes shut, smoothing the walls and checking that all his barriers were firmly in place. Slowly opening his eyes to bright sunlight, Harry found he was lying on his back, the curtains still blocking his bed. His head still ached, but not the way it had, and he felt warm and comfortable. Turning his head towards his right, he saw Remus slumped in a chair next to the bed, his head in his hands. Without his glasses, Harry could not tell whether his godfather was asleep, or not. He stretched out a hand towards Remus, not wanting the participants of the fierce whispered argument to know he was awake. His godfather looked up immediately.

“Harry,” Remus whispered, moving silently to sit on the edge of the bed, “how do you feel?” He picked up Harry’s glasses and handed them to him.

“Better, I think, Remus. How is Snape?” Harry slid his glasses on, and took a good look at his godfather pale, wane face. “Are you alright?”

“I am fine, now that I know you will be okay, and Snape should be just fine too, by morning.” Expressive gray eyes locked with brilliant green ones. “I thought I had lost you this morning, Harry, and it was almost more than I could take.” Remus’ voice broke, and he looked away. “I am not anxious to repeat it.”

Harry laid his hand on his godfather’s arm and squeezed gently. “Me, neither! I’m not sure I understand what happened THIS time!”

“Dumbledore believes that the protection your mum gave you the night she was killed by Voldemort, still protects you from him, or at least from him killing you with the Killing Curse.” Remus looked away briefly, and then turned over bright eyes to meet Harry’s. “I watched from the window in Gryffindor Tower as that jet of green light hit you, Harry, and just knew…”

“What did it do to me? Am I going to have another scar on the back of my head to match the one in front?” Harry asked, more to distract Lupin.

“I don’t think so, Harry.” Remus chuckled softly. “The curse left surface burns on your upper shoulders and tore up the back of your head a bit. Madame Pomfrey believes that you are suffering from the shock of being hit by the curse, given your symptoms. She wants to keep you in here as long as she can, especially after Dumbledore told her how you’d come to be hurt!”

“I don’t want to be in here, Remus! Can’t we go back to Gryffindor Tower if I promise to stay in bed or something?” Harry lowered his voice and pulled his godfather closer. “I don’t want to be anywhere near Snape when he wakes up and finds out what happened. He is going to KILL me, Remus!”

“I don’t think he’ll kill you, Harry.” Remus whispered back. “But could you believe the pink silk underpants!”

They both dissolved into fits of giggles, and the curtains were thrown back by a stern looking Madame Pomfrey, who proceeded to lecture Remus the whole time she was checking Harry. She made Harry rollover on his stomach to check the burns on his back, spreading on more orange burn-healing paste, and muttering all the time about Harry’s propensity to get hurt. From the bedside table, she took a goblet of a blue potion and made Harry drink every drop. The nurse bustled away finally, turning a deaf ear on Harry’s pleas to leave.

Remus went off in search for Ron, Hermione, and Ginny who had not been allowed in to see Harry. It was after lunch now, and Remus was going to sneak them in for a visit, as Harry was sure they all would be worried until they saw him.

“Hello, Harry.” Albus Dumbledore stood at the foot of his bed.

“Professor Dumbledore!” Harry was glad to see the Headmaster. He sat up carefully.

“How are you feeling, my boy?” Dumbledore sat on the bed next to him.

“Much better, sir! Can you talk to Madame Pomfrey, so I can go back to Gryffindor Tower? I promise I’ll stay in bed.” Harry pleaded.

“Yes, I think that will be a good idea, Harry, as anyone who was outside this morning can attest to, every Death Eater and Lord Voldemort believes you to be dead. It is going to be rather painful for you when Voldemort learns you are alive and well.” Dumbledore met Harry’s eyes, his bright blue ones full of affection. “Harry, I am very proud of you and your actions today. You again demonstrated that you are courageous and compassionate, even to those who have given you no reason to risk your life for theirs.” Dumbledore leaned in close to Harry. “I do not want you testing my theory about resisting killing curses too often, Harry, as I am not sure any of us can take it.”

“I won’t, Professor, promise!” Harry looked up into the wise blue eyes.

“You have a question, Harry?”

“Yeah, Professor Snape isn’t going to try and go back as a Death Eater, is he? I mean, Voldemort tried to kill him today.” Harry asked anxiously.

“I am going to strongly advise against it, Harry. What is your other question?”

Harry had to smile at the perception of his Headmaster. “I was wondering why the curse didn’t reflect back on Voldemort this time?”

“Ah, yes, I thought of that too, Harry, but I believe that the distance between you and Voldemort this morning caused the curse to become spread out, instead of the concentrated, close range curse light that caused your scar as a baby.” Dumbledore patted Harry’s arm.” Madame Pomfrey assures me that you will not have a second curse scar to deal with, either.”

“Thank goodness for that! The one I already have is bad enough.”

“Which brings me to other item that I must ask you to help me with, Harry.”

“What, sir?”

“I will need to know immediately when Voldemort finds out that you survived this morning. Right now, only the Aurors, the Order, and those of us involved here at the castle know what actually happened. I will be making an announcement at dinner this evening to the assembled teachers, that you are alive and well.” Dumbledore sighed. “As much as it would distress me to find one of my teachers is a spy, I would rather know sooner, than later. I am sure if not tonight, Harry, then sometime after the start of term feast tomorrow, Voldemort will know.”

“I hope it’s not a teacher, sir.” Harry said.

“I hope not as well, Harry. Now, let me see what I can do about getting you out of here.”