A scruffy-looking teenage boy with untidy black hair sticking up every direction, his angular face thin and pale, lay staring unseeing at the ceiling above his bed. Wearily, he struggled to keep his thoughts from straying and his burning eyes from closing. It was so difficult to concentrate; the gnawing emptiness inside him was a constant companion, the scar that branded him an incessant throb.

The past three and a half weeks had been the longest of his young life. With no energy to spare, Harry Potter had become just what the Dursleys had always wanted him to be, silent and hidden, pretending not to exist. What little food he managed to eat seemed to lodge in his throat, choking him. When failed to respond to Dudley’s taunts or Uncle Vernon’s threats, both had lost interest in Harry, and they no longer required he come downstairs for meals. Aunt Petunia had seemed strangely quiet and pensive, her dark eyes following Harry’s every move furtively.

Day and night, for the past 24 days, Harry had practiced every exercise that Severus Snape had tried to teach him during their ill-fated Occlumency lessons. With the knowledge that, at least in this place, he was safe from Voldemort’s reach, Harry tried to make up for the time he had wasted. He was convinced that had he done as he had been instructed to months ago, Sirius would still be alive. Scared that another of his friends might be endangered, Harry had managed to avoid all but the briefest of naps, not willing to allow Voldemort access to his sleeping, vulnerable mind.

Every third day, Uncle Vernon hammered on the bedroom door, and demanded to know whether Harry had sent a message to “those people.” Harry always replied through the door with a simple yes; he actually wrote daily to one or another of his friends in response to their concerned queries, his answers usually brief and vague.

Slowly, Harry’s eyelids sank, each weightier than he could fathom, and finally, he just gave up struggling. Blackness engulfed him, and he sank deeper and deeper beneath the waves of sleep. He was aware of neither the tap at his door, nor Aunt Petunia and Mrs. Figg peering in at him, as he was bathed softly in the early morning sunlight. He did not hear Mrs. Figg cooing to Hedwig nor the great snow-white owl taking off with a scroll in her grasp.

Harry turned slowly and surveyed the room in which he found himself. Stone benches sloped down into a pit and surrounded the raised dais where he stood. On the far side of the ancient dais stood an archway, its tattered black veil swaying gently in a nearly non-existent breeze. Moving hesitantly towards it, Harry’s throat tightened and threatened to close up. A wave of loneliness and quiet desperation pressed against his chest painfully.

“Harry.”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting the moisture to seep out. Sirius’ whispered voice seemed warm and alive, yet he knew that it could not be real, as he had drawn his godfather to his death weeks ago in this very room. He knew he must be dreaming again and he should fight to wake up.

“Harry, I know you are there, can you hear me?”

Harry opened his eyes and moved to stand in front of the fluttering veil, his trembling fingers outstretched as though to yank it back.

“Sirius?”

“Yes, Harry, I am here, just behind the veil.”

“How…why…”

“I am not sure of how, but I just couldn’t leave you, couldn’t abandon you…”

Harry stiffened, unsure what to do. Was this another trick of Voldemort’s, did he again have control of what Harry was seeing and hearing in his dreams? In giving Harry what he most wanted in the entire world, what did Voldemort hope to gain from him? He could not bear to even think that this was truly Sirius.

“Why should I believe that this isn’t a trick, like the trick that brought me here the last time? What if this is Voldemort playing in my mind again?”

“It’s good to be cautious, Harry, and I am not sure how to reassure you, other than to ask you if your scar hurts?”

Harry paused, every other time that Voldemort had been close to him or possessed him, his scar had seared with pain. It merely throbbed, as was normal since Voldemort’s return.

“Not anymore than normal...Sirius? Is it really you…”

Harry’s voice choked off and his hand barely brushed the veil. The bitter cold he felt from the ancient archway and veil caused him to step back.

“Don’t get too close, Harry. If it helps you to decide, I know what the Prophecy is.”

Harry heard the words, but barely comprehended them. The warm voice surrounded him, that beloved voice that he had never thought to hear again. Harry could care less if this was indeed a trick, or just a mirage produced by an exhausted, devastated mind. He sank to his knees on the stone floor, the great wracking sobs that he had held in for weeks bursting through the stoic facade that had held them in place.

“Sirius…I’m sorry…tricked me…I’m responsible…killed you…and…and…”

“Harry, stop. You didn’t know, you couldn’t know! Bellatrix did this!” Sirius sounded anxious but emphatic. “I stayed…I knew how you would take this. You have to understand, it was not your fault! Voldemort is responsible, Harry.”

Harry seemed beyond anything for several moments, but continued to listen to the low, soothing tones of his godfather’s voice, reassuring and comforting him. Although a tiny voice in his mind told him that this could not be Sirius, the rest of him rejoiced.

“Harry, you have enough to concern yourself without letting this drag you down. You have already been burdened with problems beyond your years; please don’t blame Dumbledore for not wanting to disclose the Prophecy to you, and add to all that. He knew that your mum and dad would have agreed not to tell you yet, too. You will have to be strong, Harry, and steadfast. In the end, it will come down to you.”

Harry sat huddled on the stone floor, chilly, yet warmed by Sirius’ voice. “But what will I do, Sirius, what can I do?”

“You will do what you need to do, as you have always done, Harry. And keep practicing your Occlumency, so you can come back to visit me here. Now sleep Harry, sleep…”

-0-

A gentle darkness enveloped him as Harry opened his eyes, disoriented from the long, deep sleep. Something shifted near him, bringing Harry instantly awake. He tensed as he tried to locate the source of the noise, and his hand crept surreptitiously toward the wand under his pillow. The soft rustling of clothing came from the direction of his window, and Harry could make out a figure turning toward him.

“Lumos.” A soft, familiar voice spoke, and instantly the pale, drawn face of Remus Lupin was illuminated. “Hello, Harry.”

Harry sat up and scooted back on his bed and Lupin, resplendent in a new jumper, trousers, and matching jacket, sat beside him.

“Professor Lupin? What are you doing here?” Harry adjusted his glasses up on his nose as he peered at Lupin in confusion. Never had he seen this man in anything but patched and worn clothing. “Is everything okay?”

Lupin studied him intently for a moment, “I don’t think so, Harry. People are worried about you. And to tell you the truth, you aren’t looking very good. You don’t appear to have been eating too well and your eyes have terrible bags.”

Unable to meet Lupin’s eyes, Harry studied his hands, not quite knowing what to say. He felt different somehow since he had awoken. The scar on his forehead still throbbed dully, but otherwise he felt all right. “I…think I’m okay, Professor, guess I just haven’t been very hungry since I got here. And I’ve been trying hard to study my Occlumency…”

“Harry, look at me.” Harry met the eyes of his former teacher, and saw both sadness and compassion. “Be honest with me, you haven’t been eating, you haven’t been sleeping, and you have been tearing yourself up with guilt. Am I right?”

Harry nodded slowly, suddenly realizing that the gnawing ache inside him had shrunk since his dream about Sirius. “Professor? I had this dream, about Sirius, and he was talking to me from the archway! Do you think it was…real?”

“I’m not sure Harry, maybe…I know that you have been suffering, and I don’t know if it helps, but I do understand.” Lupin broke eye contact and studied his own long fingers. “I lost a friend who was closer than a brother that night, Harry, someone who I trusted with my life and for whom I would have given my life. Sirius was the last of those who, along with your mum and dad, made themselves my family when no one else would have me. And while I am not sure how to ease your pain, know that, at the least, I share it.”

Lupin looked at Harry, a small smile played across his lips. “Did you know that your Aunt borrowed Hedwig and sent Dumbledore an owl post this morning?”

“No!” Harry was stunned. “How did she do that? Why did she do that?”

“Arabella Figg ‘befriended’ Petunia after the dementor attack last year and has been gently guiding her. Both became very worried about you since you came back from school, and since Petunia has learned about the protection her family enjoys by providing you with a home, she decided Dumbledore needed to know you were up here wasting away.”

Harry could not fathom his aunt caring in the slightest about his welfare, let alone feeling the need to tell someone he wasn’t doing well. As he struggled to find a reply, he watched Lupin fish a thick envelope out of his pocket.

“Harry, I have a letter here for you that Sirius wrote several months ago, when it became apparent that Voldemort was attempting to steal the Prophecy, which the Order was protecting. At the same time, Sirius asked me if I would take over his duties as your godfather and guardian should anything happened to him.” Lupin’s voice broke slightly, and he looked at Harry with over bright eyes. “I told him that I would be honored, if you would have me, and would do everything I could to help guide you and protect you.”

He handed the parchment envelope to Harry, who cautiously opened it. He gently unfolded the paper, smoothing the folds flat, running his fingers over the bold writing. Tears welled in his eyes as he saw the familiar script.

Dear Harry,

Remus has instructions to give this to you if anything happens to me. Please realize that this war will have casualties, and it is possible that I will be one of them. I don’t want you blaming yourself, as I am sure you are doing. I will do my best to stay close to you in spirit, if I can, no matter what. I also want you to know that I am very proud of you, and know that Lily and James would be too.

I have asked Remus to step in and do what he knows I would want as your godfather, and have asked Albus Dumbledore to make him your guardian in our world, and they have both agreed. I hope that you will come to trust Remus as I have, and as your mum and dad did.

I want you to know that I have made you my primary heir, but the Black fortune is so vast that I was able to also make sure that Remus and the Weasley family won’t ever have to worry.

Harry, I don’t have the words or the wisdom to express what I feel, but I know that you have the strength to do what you have been destined to do. Carry always in your heart the knowledge of how much you were loved from the moment you entered this world, and use that love and power to overcome whatever evil Voldemort throws at you. Always know that you can trust Dumbledore with your life and follow what he tells you, as he more than anyone else knows what you are facing. Seek Remus when you need guidance, a shoulder to cry on, or just need to rage at the unfairness of life.

I remain, always, your loving godfather.

Sirius

Harry felt a tentative hand on his shoulder, and raised his tear-stained face to Remus Lupin. “All right, Harry? In the letter Sirius left to me, he told me to stop being stubborn, that he was sick of seeing me in shabby clothing, and to go buy something decent!”

Harry managed a weak smile, his fingers still stroking the parchment. “He says that he’d try to stay close, Professor, do you…do you think that means my dream was real? “

“I think, Harry, that we need to ask Professor Dumbledore for his opinion. In the meantime, what do you think about just calling me Remus, if that’s okay?”

Nodding his head, Harry was overtaken by a great yawn, and his stomach rumbled at the same time. Lupin laughed, and reached to the bedside table where he picked up a plate of sandwiches. Harry took one and began to eat.

“Your Aunt and Uncle know that I am here, Harry. After we get a bit more sleep, I am going to teach you how to Apparate.”

Eyes growing wide, Harry spoke around a bite of sandwich, “But I can’t, R…Remus, I’m not old enough!”

“Dumbledore got a special decree from the Minister of Magic, based on the need to keep your movements quiet and keep you safe. You can only use it when one of the Order is with you or in an emergency, but we need to know that you can move distances quickly and safely.”

Harry grinned for the first time in a long time. “Cool! Wait until I tell Ron and Hermione!”

“You need to eat another sandwich and then sleep some more first, Harry. You’ve worn yourself down way too far to be safe.”

“I’ve been afraid to sleep, Prof…Remus. Afraid of what will happen if I let down my guard.” Harry looked up somberly. “I figured that if I stayed awake, then no one else would get hurt.”

“You are safe here, Harry, and I will make sure of that. Let’s sleep, and in the morning we will start on Apparation.” Lupin conjured a cot out of the air and fit it in the small space under Harry’s window. “Nox.” And the light went out.

The next afternoon found Harry and Remus in the most secluded corner of the Dursleys’ back garden. They had spent the morning in Harry’s room learning the theory of Apparation. The former professor had concentrated on teaching Harry the technique that would allow him to Apparate and Disapparate with barely an audible sound, instead of the distinct “CRACK” that he recalled the Weasley twins producing. They were now in the garden with Harry attempting to Apparate several feet from one side to the other. Neither of them saw Dudley peering out at them from behind the kitchen curtain.

Under Lupin’s patient tutelage, Harry was finally able to disappear and re-appear six feet away. Falling on his back, Harry laughed in delight at his new ability. His was not yet a silent Apparation, but it was much quieter that the one Mundungus Fletcher had done last summer in front of the house on Privet Drive. Remus looked down at him indulgently, his eyes twinkling, and he stretched out a hand to help Harry up. His fingers were warm and firm as they tugged Harry to his feet, a reassuring feeling to them.

“All right, Harry let's try that again, this time to that corner…” Lupin was interrupted by an owl that swooped down between them and dropped an envelope at Harry’s feet.

Harry looked at it apprehensively for a moment, and then back up at Lupin. “Are you sure it’s okay that we are doing this?” At Remus’ nod, he bent to pick up the envelope addressed to him cautiously, and turned it over the see the Hogwarts crest on the seal. “Isn’t it too early for our school letters?” Harry ripped the envelope open and quickly pulled out the single piece of parchment inside. He scanned the bright green writing once, and then again, slowly, as his jaw visibly dropped.

“Remus!!! It’s my OWLs! But, I think someone made a mistake! This can’t be mine…Remus!” Harry looked up in disbelief. “This says I earned 10 OWLs! Seven of them Outstanding OWLs! NO! Oh NO! Remus!” Harry was jumping up and down now, and thrust the paper into Lupin’s hands. “AnOutstanding Owl in POTIONS!! Snape is going to have a fit!”

“Professor Snape, Harry.” Remus muttered automatically as he started reading the paper. Harry turned a cartwheel and then Disapparated and Apparated several times in rapid succession around the backyard. “An Outstanding in Defense against the Dark Arts as well! Excellent, Harry, excellent!”

“Did I earn enough to get into Auror training??? I mean to get into want I need for my NEWT levels?”

Lupin nodded with a smile. “Six outstanding, three exceeds expectations and one average, yes, I think you will be okay.” He looked at Harry shrewdly. “I thought Potions was one of your worst subjects? Or is it the teacher?”

Another owl swooped down on them before Harry could answer, this time dropping the envelope at Lupin’s feet. As he bent to retrieve it, Harry noticed that his new godfather did not appear to be quite as pinched or sickly looking as he had in the past. He wondered if Snape were still brewing Remus the Wolfsbane Potion that minimized his symptoms at the full moon. Lupin scanned the parchment rapidly and looked up at Harry as if to say something, but hesitated.

“Ha..harry?” Neither of them had heard Dudley Dursley come out the garden door into the backyard. Dudley hesitated, and threw an anxious look over his shoulder at the house where his mother was having tea with Mrs. Figg. “Can I ask you a question, Harry?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“Those scabby, black, hooded things that attacked us in the alley last summer, they aren’t coming back are they?” He looked from Harry to Lupin. “That’s not why you’re learning to disappear is it?”

Harry was taken back by Dudley’s words and could only stare at his cousin. Dudley was a large, lumbering bully, who had spent most of their young lives using Harry as a punching bag, but he was a muggle. Muggles did not see dementors.

“Son, are you telling me that you saw the dementors last summer?” Remus Lupin exchanged glances with Harry; both of them knew what Dudley’s words could mean.

“Well, they were a little hard to miss, especially the one grabbing my face!”

“Harry, pop up to your room and get the mirror Sirius gave you.”

With a feeling of dread, Harry Apparated to his room, fished the shattered mirror out of the bottom of his trunk, and Disapparated to the backyard. Lupin was speaking quietly to Dudley when Harry appeared and held out the badly wrapped mirror. Remus looked up at Harry, and pulled out his wand.

“Reparo.”

Harry grinned ruefully and handed the now whole mirror to Remus, wondering how his old professor always seemed to know what Harry didn’t want to tell him. With a glance over his shoulder towards the house, Lupin walked into the shadows, muttering into the mirror. Dudley looked at Harry, for the first time perhaps ever, without animosity. He seemed to study his cousin intently for several minutes, before pulling a coin from his pocket.

“I can make this disappear, Harry, although I am not sure where it goes, but I’ve been practicing hard. Do you think I can learn to disappear like you’ve been doing?”

At a loss for words, Harry looked about franticly for Remus, only to discover that Dumbledore had joined them in the backyard. Relief washed over him as his Headmaster winked at him, and walked Dudley toward the house. Harry watched as Dumbledore waved a hand over Dudley’s head and sent him into the house.

“Harry, Petunia was right, you are looking a bit peaked.” Dumbledore put his hand on Harry’s shoulder and looked over his half moon glasses at him. “I think you have been here long enough for the summer, would you like to celebrate your birthday with the Order?”

“Yeah, I would. Professor? Is Dudley a wizard?” Harry looked up into the sharp blue eyes. “He saw the dementors last summer.”

“Well, Harry, your cousin could have been a wizard, but it was part of my deal with your aunt that he not know he was magical. Now, let’s get your things together and you can show me what you’ve learned today.”

“Professor, later, can we talk about my dream?”

Dumbledore smiled gently as they watched Lupin levitate Harry’s trunk and Hedwig’s cage out the window. “Yes, my boy, we will and we will also be doing Occlumency lessons, as I hear you’ve been practicing hard.” He looked over at Remus, and nodded. “Oh, and Harry, excellent job on your OWLs.” And they disappeared.

-0- -0- -0- -0- -0-

The dim basement kitchen at 12 Grimmauld Place had undergone a remarkable transformation since Harry had been there last. The rough stone walls gleamed white and spotless in the enchanted light of magical skylights, and the table and cabinets shined warm with polish. The room was quiet and empty when they appeared.

“Harry, Hermione’s just arrived, too, and she is upstairs with Ron in the room you share.” Dumbledore looked intently at him over his half moon glasses. “They are quite worried about you.” He pulled 2 parchment envelopes from a pocket in his robes. “Why don’t you Apparate up there and give them their OWL letters.”

Harry reached for the envelopes, but Dumbledore did not release them immediately.

“The Order was told about the Prophecy, Harry, so they could better protect it, and you, as they have sworn to do with their lives. You have two friends upstairs who freely followed you into the unknown and laid their lives on the line just a month ago, because they love you. Don’t they deserve to know the Prophecy too?”

The blue eyes were solemn, as were Lupin’s gray ones as Harry glanced at him with silent appeal, apprehension filling him.

“Harry, Ron and Hermione have been your closest confidants since you first met. They have accepted you without judgment, stood by you through ridicule, and they, of all people, will understand.”

With a nod, Harry took the envelopes and a deep breath. He envisioned the bedroom and closed his eyes.

Neither Ron nor Hermione heard the soft pop as Harry Apparated just inside the bedroom door. He could see that they had a map spread out on Ron’s bed and were studying it intently.

“No, Ron, I really think we will have to change trains here, in order to get to Little Whinging. If we just got on the Knight Bus…”

“I am NOT getting on that blasted bus again! We will just have to leave while everyone is sleeping, and maybe we’ll be there by noon. I just know that he’s not going to send another birthday alone!”

Harry took a step toward them. “You don’t have to go to all that trouble, I’m here.”

Both his friendly started guiltily at being caught plotting, until it sunk in that it was Harry. Hermione threw herself at him with a squeal, and without hesitating, Ron wrapped his arms around them both. Everyone was trying to talk at once and then they all laughed, and started again. Harry had to laugh at the looks of mingled surprise, delight and concern he saw on their faces.

“Harry! Mate, how did you get here?”

“Oh, Harry, you look simply terrible!”

“Come here and sit down for a minute, both of you. Before anything else, I have something I need to tell you, something I should have told you a month ago.”

Hermione and Ron sat down on Harry’s bed, exchanging concerned glances. Harry took a deep breath as he looked at them, hoping the fear he felt didn’t show.

“A month ago, when I told you that Voldemort had Sirius, neither of you hesitated in coming with me to London. You knew what we could face, knew it wasn’t going to be easy, and you gave your all, getting hurt in the process. While you were being taken to the hospital wing, I was in Dumbledore’s office breaking things and raging at him.”

Both his friends chuckled at the image.

“He knew I was hurting over Sirius, worried about you guys, and didn’t understand what was going on. Dumbledore told me that he had been withholding information from me in the form of this Prophecy, which allowed Voldemort to lure me to the Department of Mysteries. The one we found there broke in the Death Chamber, but the Headmaster showed me his memory of the original prophecy in his Pensieve, just as Professor Trelawney gave it to him.” Harry screwed up his face in concentration, trying to remember the exact wording.

“ ‘The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…’”

Hermione gasped and looked up at Harry, while Ron appeared to be trying to work out the puzzle. “This is why you put up a wall between us, wasn’t it, Harry?”

Harry nodded, not surprised by her perception. “Ultimately, I will have to be a killer or a victim, which made me truly feel like a ‘marked’ man.”

“No, you can’t interpret it that way! Voldemort, oh hush Ron, is evil, he didn’t care who he had to hurt or kill just to hear to this prophecy. He has to be stopped, Harry, before he kills many innocent people. If you are the only one able to do that, then so be it!”

“And he has only heard the first part of this, the part about a boy being born who could defeat him, Hermione, because there was a spy who was heard the first part of the prophecy when it was made. Dumbledore says that when Voldemort tried to kill me, he marked me as an equal with this scar, and unknowingly transferred some of his powers to me, like being a Parselmouth. “

“Harry!” Ron burst out. “That says you are Vold…Voldemort’s equal! Blimey, Harry!”

“I certainly don’t feel like his equal, Ron! In fact, the whole thing pretty much scares the wits out of me!”

“I understand why Professor Dumbledore didn’t want you or Voldemort to hear the prophecy.” Both Ron and Harry stared at Hermione. “He didn’t want Harry burdened with this knowledge on top of everything else he had going on, and he certainly doesn’t want Voldemort to find out that Harry is at least his equal in wizarding power, until Harry has learned how to use it. Don’t you see, Harry, everything Dumbledore has done since you came to Hogwarts has been to try and give you time to learn your skills like everyone else. Unfortunately, Voldemort isn’t that patient.”

Harry nodded in agreement. “I know that there are some things that seem to come easy for me, like resisting the Imperius Curse, but there is so much I don’t understand.” He looked at his friends. “I tried to use the Cruciatus Curse on Bellatrix LeStrange when we were fighting, but it only stopped her for a minute. She laughed at me, and said that the curse doesn’t work unless you really want to hurt someone. I am not sure I can ever learn to do that.” Harry looked at his best friends. “Dumbledore says only the Order and we can know what the Prophecy says, so…”

There was a knock at the door. “Ron! Hermione! Remus is back! Maybe he has news of Harry!”

Harry grinned and crossed to the door, flinging it open as Mrs. Weasley made to knock again. “Hi, Mrs. Weasley!”

Molly Weasley gapped at him for a moment before sweeping Harry into a stranglehold embrace. “Oh, Harry! You look terrible, dear! I swear those people need to be whipped!”

Trying to pat her on the back reassuringly, Harry found that he still had the envelopes Professor Dumbledore gave him in his hand. He thrust his arm behind him, while Mrs. Weasley kept hugging him.

“RON! OWL Letters!”

“OWL letters?” Mrs. Weasley released him finally, swiping at her eyes, as Ron and Hermione ripped open their envelopes.

“I earned ten OWLS, Mrs. Weasley, six Outstandings!” Harry beamed, “An O in Potions!!”

“Me, too, Mum! I earned eight too, four Outstandings, and three Exceptionals, including one Outstanding in Potions! Harry, Snape is going to kill us!”

Hermione dropped heavily to the bed, reading her letter through a third time.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked.

“I got one Exceptional.” Hermione looked up at them. “What did I do wrong?”

“Hermione,” Harry said patiently, “how many outstanding OWLs did you get?

“Well, eleven” Hermione had the grace to blush.

Ron rolled his eyes at Harry and they all laughed as they made their way down to the kitchen. Ginny launched herself at Harry as they entered, and suddenly everyone was talking at once about OWLs and Harry.

“Ah, Harry.” Albus Dumbledore extended his hand and placed it on Harry’s shoulder as he walked over to join them. Remus smiled at him.

“All right Harry?”

“Yeah, actually, just like you said. You were both right, I feel better now that I told them. Maybe it won’t seem quite so overwhelming now. Thank you.” Harry smiled at his new godfather, and felt content with the warm, reassuring hand of his headmaster and protector resting on his shoulder. He knew that nothing would ever completely fill the void left by Sirius’ death, but the love he felt here helped ease the ache.

-0- -0- -0- -0- -0-

Dinner was a boisterous affair with Mr. Weasley joining them from work. The talked about their OWLS and Harry let slip his newly learned Apparation skills. Ron and Hermione protested vigorously and made appeals to Professor Dumbledore for the same privilege, citing the fact that Harry was rarely out of either of their sights ten months of the year. With twinkling eyes, Dumbledore pondered their request for several long minutes before agreeing; he produced two more special Apparation licenses, much to Ginny’s dismay.

As everyone was starting to help with the clean up, the door opened to admit a tall, sallow-faced man with dark hair, wearing black traveling cloak. Professor Snape swept into the room giving no sign of surprise as his eyes raked across Harry, who in turned felt an intense wave of hatred. He walked over to where Mr. Weasley and Professor Dumbledore were speaking quietly.

“You wished to see me, Headmaster?”

“Severus, yes, thank you for coming so swiftly.” Dumbledore rose. “Remus, Harry, will you join us please in the drawing room.”

Harry exchanged looks with Ron across the table as he got up and followed the others upstairs. He again noticed how clean everything looked, seeing with a glance that the tapestry the Sirius had hated so was gone from the wall. Eyeing Dumbledore’s back, Harry was sure that Mrs. Black’s portrait in the entry hall was also gone.

Filing into the drawing room, Harry stood next to Remus as he quietly shut the door. Snape stepped into the middle of the room facing Dumbledore, who sat in a cushy armchair.

“Harry, Remus tells me that you have exhausted yourself practicing Occlumency since the term ended.”

“Yeah, I…” He shot a look at Snape. “I didn’t want to put anyone else in danger because I failed to practice.”

Dumbledore nodded. “Severus, I would like you to test Harry and evaluate his progress since you last gave him a lesson.”

Snape stiffened, his eyes locked on Dumbledore. “Headmaster, we have discussed this, and you are aware of my wishes.”

Dumbledore steepled his long fingers and looked over them at Snape. “Much has happened since that incident, Severus, and this is critical to the Order. I do know that Harry has kept his silence.”

Remus Lupin spoke quietly, “Not only did he not say anything, Severus, Harry risked everything to use the fire in Umbridge’s office to speak to Sirius and me. He was so devastated that James could have treated you so shabbily, so arrogantly, treated you like his cousin had treated him. He agonized over what kind of man had fathered him, mortified at a twenty year old memory of a fifteen year old boy.”

“Potter loathes me, just as his father did!” Snape snarled back, finally looking at Harry with a withering gaze through his long, greasy hair.

“Harry loathes you as an overbearing teacher who never passes up the chance to bully or belittle him in front of the entire class. Unlike you, Severus, who hate a boy simply because he bears an uncanny resemblance to the man who made your school years miserable. Harry is not James, and he needs your help.”

Lupin and Snape stared at each other for several long moments, before Snape nodded and walked to the far end of the room.

“Mr. Potter.”

Harry took out his wand and moved into position opposite Snape.

“On the count of three. One…two…three, Legilimens!”

An image of an ancient stone archway started to form in his mind, but Harry ruthlessly squashed it, envisioning a wall surrounding his thoughts and feelings. He concentrated instead on his OWLs, particularly his 2 Outstanding OWLs in potions. His efforts were rewarded when he felt Snape’s disbelief. He pressed forward then, picking up the image of a laughing face, sparkling green eyes, and auburn hair. Finding a warm, cherished memory of his mother, in the mind of a man who hated him, was puzzling.

Harry found himself on his knees, exhausted, but was surprised to look up and find his tormentor also on his knees across the room. Their eyes clashed for an instant, Snape clearly unsettled, before both stood.

“It is too bad that you did not practice like that when I was attempting to teach you, Potter,” Snape snarled, “your godfather might still be alive.”

Harry felt the words like a physical blow. He knew he had been at fault, and certainly did not need Snape to remind him. He turned to leave, only to be stopped, bodily, by Lupin. Too tired and too drained to fight, he stood with his forehead resting on Remus’ chest, his back to the room.

“That will do, Severus, your remarks are uncalled for. I asked for an assessment.”

“I find him surprisingly improved, Headmaster. I was unable to gain access to any thoughts other than the ones he directed me to, and…found he was strong enough to gain entry to thoughts I didn’t want him to.” Snape stood stiffly in front of Dumbledore. “He could become quite accomplished if he continues to practice.”

Dumbledore gazed at Snape, a spark of irritation evident in his voice. “His name is Harry, Professor, and what he projected was accurate. Harry has earned 2 Outstanding OWLs in Potions, and will be in your N.E.W.T. level Potions class. I fully expect that he will be mentored and taught while in your classes, not belittled in front of his peers. Harry has been dealt a heavy enough hand, as you well know; you have heard the Prophecy that governs his life. You may have reason to have hated his father, Severus, but you should know by now, that despite his appearance, Harry is very much Lilly’s son. I expect you to remember that.”

There was silence in the room; Harry did not see Snape nod at Dumbledore. He didn’t see Snape stare at him for a moment before sweeping from the room.

“Harry.” Dumbledore called to him softly, and Remus steered him over to an armchair. “Tell me exactly what you saw in your dream.”

Feeling wrung out and emotionally drained, Harry relayed his dream in a monotone. He told them how his scar had not hurt; that Sirius’ had relayed the prophecy to him as proof of who he was, and how he had said he’d stay close if he could. “And he said that if I kept practicing my Occlumency that I could go back in my dreams and visit him.” Harry raised his head to look at Dumbledore, “Do you think it was real, Professor, or…”

“I think you spoke to Sirius, Harry, that he doesn’t want to leave, and you need to do what he says so you can communicate.” Dumbledore looked at him intently. “There are many things in life, and death, that we do not understand. I do not think it is a trick, Voldemort would not be that subtle. I do want you to let me know, though, if you have another dream, Harry.”

“Yes, sir.” Harry stood to go. “Professor, why would Snape hate my dad so much, but have such warm memories of my mum?”

“I think Professor Snape liked your mother because she was always nice to him, and because she was very pretty.” Dumbledore stood too. “And you need to get some rest, Harry. Go to bed now and we’ll talk tomorrow.”

A warm shaft of sunlight across his face woke Harry Potter from a deep sleep. Momentarily disoriented, he kept his eyes closed, trying to remember going to bed the night before. Slowly awareness trickled back, and he knew he was in his bed at Sirius’ house. The memory of leaving Privet Drive returned, and he recalled the wonderful reunion with his friends. He also remembered the session with Snape.

Sealing off the flare of anger, Harry walled in his feeling and thoughts, clearing his mind. Concentrating hard on the happiness he felt at being with his friends, he projected that as forcefully as he could. Albus Dumbledore had told him that love was something Voldemort did not understand, making it Harry’s greatest weapon against the Dark Lord.

“How can he still be asleep, Hermione? It’s after 9am on his birthday, for heavens sake!” Ron’s whisper penetrated the edge of Harry’s awareness. “Besides, we can’t start our Apparation lesson until he gets up!”

“He’s awake, Ron,” came Remus Lupin’s quiet voice. “He is practicing his Occlumency. Good morning, Harry.”

Harry slowly opened his eyes to see Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Remus all standing beside his bed. Pushing himself into a sitting position, he took the glasses that Hermione handed him.

“Happy Birthday, Harry!! Now, get up!”

Harry grinned at them and threw back the covers as Remus herded them out of the room. “We’ll see downstairs when you’re dressed, Harry.”

It took just a few minutes to scramble into clothes, splash water on his face, and Apparate to the kitchen. It was very noisy with Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley sitting at the table, all talking.

“Happy birthday, sleepy head! Sit down and let me get you some breakfast.” Mrs. Weasley got up. “And you lot just hush until he’s done eating!”

Harry had to laugh at the looks on the faces of his friends, before he was distracted by Hedwig swooping into the kitchen with an envelope. Tearing it open, Harry found a birthday card from Hagrid. He looked up and saw a pile of cards in the middle of the table as well. Twenty minutes later all the cards were opened, breakfast eaten, and the kitchen cleaned.

As Harry sat watching, Remus and Mrs. Weasley began teaching Ron, Hermione, and Ginny how to Apparate and Disapparated. Even though technically, Ginny wasn’t allowed to, they all felt it might be a critical skill to know in an emergency. They stopped for a quick lunch and continued to practice. Harry took the opportunity to do again practice his Occlumency for half an hour.

“Harry.” Lupin’s hand on his shoulder brought him back to awareness. Harry opened his eyes and looked up. “It is amazing when you do that, Harry, I could swear I can feel what you are projecting.” Remus gave him an assessing look.

Mrs. Weasley came bustling in to the room. “Come along everyone, I have your school lists early; we are going to Diagon Alley.”

A few minutes later, a puzzled group of teenagers arrived in Diagon Alley, having been allowed to Apparate to the Leaky Cauldron. Heading first to Gringotts Bank, Harry was speechless when he saw that his vault had been filled to capacity with gold galleons. He wondered how in the world he would ever spend it all as he scooped a bag full out. It was a treat, though, to watch Molly Weasley open her family’s vault and see that it was also brimming with gold. Sirius would have liked that.

They spent the rest of the afternoon shopping for the supplies everyone needed for the coming school year. Ron and Ginny got new robes and cauldrons, as well as their schoolbooks; Harry bought new robes, as his were getting short, and new Quidditch gloves, with the hope that he would be reinstated to the Gryffindor team. All of them restocked their potions stores, inkbottles, parchment, and quills.

Harry had the odd sensation of being watched during the afternoon, and wondered briefly if Dumbledore had members of the Order watching them, or if he needed to worry.

Their last stopped was Fred and George’s joke shop, where the twins were ecstatic to see them. Looking prosperous and well, they were doing a brisk business and Mrs. Weasley ushered everyone into the backroom. There, they all Apparated back to the drawing room at 12 Grimmauld Place.

“Upstairs now, all of you! I have a birthday dinner to get ready!”

It didn’t take Harry long to put his items away in his truck, and he sat on his bed while Ron went on about his favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons. Lost in thought, he didn’t realize that Ron had stopped until he felt someone sit beside him.

“Harry?” Hermione sat looking at him. “What’s the matter? Did something happen with Snape last night?”

Harry saw that Ron had stopped in front of him. He nodded and didn’t go into detail, but told his friends about witnessing Snape’s embarrassment last term and how that was why the Occlumency lessons had stopped in the first place. Taking a breath, he told them about what happened the night before, and how Snape’s comment had made him feel.

“But Dumbledore told him that he was out of line, and even Snape had to admit that I had gotten better. If I keep practicing, then Voldemort won’t ever be able to trick me like that again.”

“I’m glad, Harry! Snape has treated you, and us too, terribly since our first year!”

“Yeah, and I am not too sure how much improvement there will be, but I don’t think I will ever have to take Occlumency lessons from him again!”

Harry fell silent again, examining his shoes. Ron and Hermione exchanged glances over his head.

“Harry, you don’t seem too anxious to go to your party.” Hermione said, watching him intently. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s…stupid, but I don’t know what to do.” He looked up. “I’ve never had a birthday before, really, and have never had a party. I just…”

A single haunting note of music reverberated through the room, and Harry recognized it immediately as Phoenix song. A flame appeared in mid-air and suddenly a gold and red bird about the size of a swan was settling on Harry’s shoulder, a warm and welcome weigh.

“Fawkes!” Harry reached up to stroke the bird’s head. “What are you doing here?”

Fawkes flew up and hovered in front of them, before slowly flying out the door.

“I think he wants us to follow him, Harry!” Ron said as they all followed the Phoenix from the room and down to the kitchen.

The room was full of people, and a huge banner reading HAPPY BITHDAY, HARRY! hung over the long kitchen table, which was laden with heaping platters of food. On the sideboard by the fireplace was a pile of gaily-wrapped presents. Harry stopped short, unsure of what to do, but Ron shoved him into the room.

“Happy Birthday, Harry!” Remus spotted him first and clapped him on the shoulder. Everyone else seemed to realize he was there at the same time, laughing and hugging him, or shaking his hand. Tonks, Kingsley, and Mr. Weasley had all just come from work at the Ministry of Magic. Bill Weasley crowded around as Fred and George Apparated into the middle of the room. Alastor Moody and Professor McGonagall were there, standing beside Albus Dumbledore, who beamed at him. Everyone was talking at once and Mrs. Weasley gave him a big hug before sending him to fill a plate at the table.

Harry slowly relaxed as people ate and circulated around the room. Everyone was laughing and seemed to be having a great time just being in each other’s company. As soon as he ate, presents began to find there way into his lap. After awkwardly trying to neatly open the first one, a tin of chocolate frogs from the Weasley twins, which the two impatiently ripped open for him, Harry was able to rip open the rest by himself. Ron had given him a new compass for his Firebolt and Hermione a study guide to Potions. Mrs. Weasley had baked him his favorite mince pies and found him a stack of bright green socks to match his eyes, causing Ron to roll his eyes. Moody and Tonks gave him a holster to carry his wand in under his sleeve. Professor McGonagall gave him a new quill with a feather in Gryffindor colors. Professor Dumbledore gave him a bag of Bertie Botts' Every Flavour Beans.

Remus handed him a badly wrapped package, which Harry recognized as Sirius’ style. “He had me search high and low for that; he really wanted you to have it.”

Harry ripped it open to find large leather bound book, Ancient Charms against Dark Wizards. Looking inside, he could see color illustrations moving on the pages showing how to perform each charm. Remus handed Harry a second package, which contained a new black traveling cloak of a very soft, warm fabric.

“Thank you, Remus,” Harry smiled, touched by the thoughtfulness.

“The girls will think you are dashing in that, Harry!” Bill Weasley teased him.

The table had been cleared of dinner and now held 2 large cakes, a large white cake and a smaller chocolate cake with green writing that Harry recognized as the work of Rubeus Hagrid. Hagrid had given Harry one just like it, his first ever birthday cake on his 11th birthday.

“Hagrid could not be here tonight, Harry, but he wanted to make sure you had that.” Dumbledore smiled down at him. “And you will see him very soon.”

Harry started towards the table when his head exploded in pain and he staggered, dropping to his knees. Sheer, unadulterated rage shot through him before Harry could even think. Struggling, he tried to slam the walls up in his mind. Cool, long fingers covered the white-hot scar on his forehead, and Dumbledore’s calmness soothed him as he locked the walls firmly in place.

Trembling, Henry sat back on his heels, feeling sick. “He’s very angry, the angriest he has been in a while. Someone saw us today in Diagon Alley, but didn’t tell him until it was too late to do anything.” Harry lifted a shaky hand, and pushed his glasses up. No one had to ask whom he was talking about. Remus and Dumbledore lifted him into a chair.

“What else, Harry?” Dumbledore sat down beside him, and Remus stood next to the chair.

Harry knew everyone was watching him, but knew how important it was. “He was raging because he missed an opportunity to get me, but I am not sure whether he wanted to kill me or capture me. It sounds like he has followers who have been watching Privet Drive and other places I might be.” He looked at Dumbledore. “I didn’t feel like I wanted to attack you like before though, so I don’t think he knows I can still feel him.”

“And this was the first contact since last month?”

Harry nodded, “I’ve been practicing hard since school ended to close my mind off.”

“I do not think Voldemort realizes that you can feel his emotional outburst, Harry, and he obviously doesn’t feel yours, or he would have known you were going to Diagon Alley before you got there. I do believe that your method of concentrating on something very happy to close your mind is excellent.” Dumbledore said thoughtfully. “Molly, I think we need to move our plans up, don’t you agree?”

Molly Weasley exchanged glances with her husband, and eldest son. “Yes, I think that would be a good idea.”

Albus Dumbledore looked around the room. “I believe that the information we have received concerning Voldemort’s activities indicates that he is busy recruiting followers as well as spies, and is obsessed with finding Harry. Being kept from hearing the Prophecy seems to have fortified Voldemort’s belief that Harry is somehow the key to his complete return to power and ultimately, victory.”

He looked over the group, as he accepted a piece of birthday cake from Ginny. “I’m sorry, Harry, that your birthday celebration has turned into an Order of the Phoenix meeting, but I believe this is important. Go ahead and eat your cake while I explain.”

Harry looked at the plate that Mrs. Weasley handed him, with a small slice of each cake on it. He still felt sick and shaky, but was glad that Dumbledore and the rest weren’t treating them like children. He had suspected that Fred and George would join the Order as soon as they left Hogwarts, but knew too that Ginny, Ron, and Hermione has proven themselves that night at the Department of Mysteries. Sirius would be pleased with this too, he thought.

“As we know, Harry is the safest in 2 places, his relatives’ home on Privet Drive and at Hogwarts. No matter how well protected this house is, it is still not completely impenetrable. Nor do I think that Harry, Ron, Hermione, or Ginny will take to enforced confinement in it any better than Sirius did. After speaking with Remus and Molly, we have decided to take the young people to Hogwarts early, where they can take advantage of the protections already in place. This will also give Harry a chance to continue his Occlumency lessons, and let them all get outside in the sunshine.” His eyes twinkled as he looked at Harry. “I believe that Professor McGonagall was just saying that she was thinking about reinstating the old Gryffindor seeker for the new term. I would think he might need to practice.”

Harry felt a shiver of excitement. “Oh, yes, please Professor!” He sought his Head of House in the crowd, who gave him one of her rare smiles and nodded.

“And Ginny, what do you think about being a Prefect?” Dumbledore asked. “I’m sure Ron and Hermione would be able to help you out.”

Ginny never had a chance to respond as Mrs. Weasley shrieked and swept her into a bear hug. The rest of the room laughed heartily as Ginny was led on a dance around the room.

Remus nudged Harry and looked pointedly at his plate. Harry took a tentative bite of Hagrid’s cake. His stomach felt better and he took another bite. “Professor, when will we go back to Hogwarts, then?”

Dumbledore polished off the last of his cake. “No time like the present, Harry. Minerva, are things ready?”

The Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts nodded. “Yes, sir, everything is prepared.”

“Molly, Remus, are you both ready as well?” Both asserted they were.

Professor Dumbledore set his plate aside and looked at them all very seriously. “You must all remember that this is a war, and you must take every precaution to watch yourselves and those around you. Do not trust anyone outside the Order with any information about our activities, and Harry, specifically. It could cost someone his or her life. Although these 4 are under-aged wizards and witches, they proved themselves in the Department of Mysteries last month as qualified to join our ranks; however, their involvement will be limited by their parents and guardian.”

He looked at Harry solemnly. “You have had enough to worry about, I know, but you are must be diligent and honest with me, Harry. I know there have been times when your scar has hurt or you have had flashes from Voldemort that you didn’t tell anyone about. It is imperative now, that I know whenever something happens, alright.”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Good, now finish up and get your things together. We are heading to Hogwarts.”

It was late by the time Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Remus had transported by portkey with Dumbledore to his office. Sending the others ahead to the Gryffindor common room, the Headmaster motioned Harry to a chair. He tried very hard not to remember the last time he had sat in this office.

Dumbledore seemed to be of the same mindset. “Harry, the last time we were in this office, I told you of the great destiny that awaits you. You turned 16 today and have already accomplished a great deal, and have proven that you have immense potential. It is now time to start refining the talent and ability you have within you.”

He handed Harry a watch with no hands on its iridescent, luminous face.

“This watch is very special, Harry, as it will let me know immediately if you need me. All you have to do it press a finger on the dial, and I will know. Please wear it at all times; we cannot be too careful with your safety. All right?”

Harry strapped the watch on his wrist, and if had a pleasant warm feel to it, as if he was wearing a phoenix feather. “Yes, Professor, and thank you. Will…will it be you giving me more Occlumency lessons?”

“Yes, Harry, I will be giving those to you and more, but that doesn’t mean that Professor Snape will never be asked to tutor you.” Dumbledore looked down his long crooked nose, through his half-moon glasses. “You must trust me, Harry, to know what is best for you.”

Harry nodded, “Yes, Professor, I do.”

It was eerie walking back through the empty castle towards Gryffindor Tower, but it didn’t bother Harry as he had too much on his mind. He never saw the shadow move ahead of him, until a hand grabbed his arm. In a blink of an eye, there was a strangled yell and a figure soared overhead, landing with a thud at the foot of the marble staircase.

Harry saw it all as if in slow motion and was still gawking at the heap of black robes, blinking, when Dumbledore appeared at his elbow.

“Oh my. Severus, you mustn’t sneak up on Harry like that!”

“What is going on?” Remus Lupin hurried down the staircase with the others trailing him. “Severus?” He helped Dumbledore set Snape on his feet and brush him off.

The Potions master appeared completely rattled and, like Harry, at a loss for words. They stared at each other for several long minutes.

Dumbledore ran an accessing eye over Snape. “You seem to be in one piece, are you all right?”

Snape straightened his robes and attempted to appear composed. “Yes, Headmaster, I am fine. I was unaware of your return, and had merely stepped out to investigate the noises, when I happened across Potter.” He threw a cautious look at Harry, who still found it hard to believe that he’d throw Snape across the room with a flick of his wrist. “It seems that I must have startled him, as he has shown the same defensive reactions when we were doing our Occlumency sessions.”

Dumbledore led Snape away, and Lupin shepherded the rest up to the Gryffindor common room. Without a word the girls went up to their rooms and Harry and Ron to theirs. They said goodnight to Remus at the doorway and collapsed onto their beds in fits of laughter. Both were still sniggering as they got ready for bed and climbed in.

The next few days were heavenly for Harry, who had never truly experienced a summer holiday. He and the others slept late, lazed in the sunshine, and played games. Mrs. Weasley had shown up the 2nd morning with their school trunks and a new broom for Ginny, which she’d asked for upon hearing she was a prefect. Hermione even used a school broom and joined in for Quidditch. They generally all had dinner together, with Mrs. Weasley and Remus, and whichever teachers showed up. Hagrid was around most of the time, as were Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick. Even Snape and Dumbledore appeared occasionally.

They had been there for several days when Professor Dumbledore joined them at lunch, and listened to the animated conversation among the teenagers. Lupin and Mrs. Weasley were laughing as hard as Harry and Ginny as Ron tried to argue some obscure fact with Hermione. It was silly, and pointless, and they were having fun. Dumbledore’s bright blue eyes twinkled with merriment as he watched.

When everyone was done eating, Dumbledore sat back and surveyed the table. “Harry, you and I need to attend to a lesson this afternoon.” Harry groaned. “And I also have a task for the rest of you.” He looked at them steadily. “When the term begins, I would like you to continue your DA meetings. I would like you to plan out some of the things that Harry and all of you will be able to teach to those willing to learn. Think of what you experienced in the Department of Mysterious and assess what you might think would be helpful to learn. I am sure that Remus can help you in that area.”

The others followed Remus Lupin out to the grassy slope next to the lake, and Harry watched them settle in from the window of a large empty classroom on the third floor. He turned from the window and sat in at one of the desks. The sunlight filling the room made it pleasantly warm and he shut his eyes, steeling his mind to practice Occlumency. He envisioned smooth stone walls protecting his mind from intrusion and focused all his energy on the delight and joy he felt at being back in the place he felt most at home, with the friends that he considered his true family. Slowly, all else receded in his mind except the smooth walls and those he loved.

“Harry?” The warm voice of Sirius Black wrapped itself around his consciousness. Harry’s mind filled with the love he felt for his godfather, and he found himself once again in the Death Chamber at the Department of Mysteries.

“Hello, Sirius.” Harry sat on the stone floor next to the ancient archway.

“You sound better, Harry, are you sleeping?” Sirius’ voice was gentle.

“I am better, and I was practicing my Occlumency, but maybe I fell asleep. Thank you for the letter you left me, it helped.” Harry was more comfortable this time conversing with Sirius’ spirit--or whatever it was--but he was still not completely convinced it wasn’t a Voldemort trick.

“I’m glad, Harry; Remus is doing okay? How are the rest?”

“Yes, everyone is fine, and Dumbledore got your mum down!”

“Finally!” Harry could almost feel Sirius smile. “Harry, I want you to do something for me. I want you to work hard, do exactly what Dumbledore tells you to, and I want you to be very, very careful. Don’t trust lightly, alright?” The voice of his godfather was serious.

“I’ll try, Sirius, to do all of that. Sirius, I miss you …” Harry said as the stone chamber faded back into the smooth walls of his mind.

Slowly, Harry became aware of another presence and opened his eyes. Dumbledore’s light blue eyes stared intently at Harry’s from just inches away. Instantly aware, Harry returned the stare, as his headmaster pulled back.

“I just spoke to Sirius, Professor!” Harry repeated the entire conversation, trying not to notice how closely Dumbledore was watching him. “I don’t understand why he said not to trust lightly, though.”

Dumbledore steepled his fingers and looked through his half-moon glasses thoughtfully. “There are concerns among members of the Order that some of the returning students to Hogwarts will have been recruited as spies for Voldemort, some possibly even by their own parents. Sirius is correct in reminding you that must be very careful.” Dumbledore stood and motioned for Harry to move opposite of him. “Let us see how you are doing, Harry.”

Harry stood straight, the walls firmly in place.

“Ready? Legilimens!”

Harry had braced himself for the brutal, intrusive style of Severus Snape, and almost missed the gentle brush of the Headmaster’s magic against his thoughts. The Death Chamber flashed through his mind twice before he clamped his walls down and filled his mind with happy thoughts of being with his friends playing Quidditch.

“Very good, Harry!” Dumbledore’s voice seemed to come from both inside his head as well as in front of him. “Remember, that there is any number of ways to enter a mind without the use of brute force.”

Harry opened his eyes to see the smile on Dumbledore’s face. He grinned in return and watched as the Headmaster walked over to the teacher’s desk and began pulling things out of his robes.

“Harry, I’d like to try another test with you, just to see where you are, all right?”

Harry moved closer as he nodded, and watched Dumbledore line up a number of objects on the desk, everyday sort of things like a key, an apple, a roll of parchment, an eagle feather quill, and the like. Dumbledore motioned him back against the far wall of the room.

“What I would like you to do, Harry is a series of exercises. You know your Summoning Charm, what I would like is for you to use your wand, but say the charm in your mind, not aloud. Let’s see how many of these you can move.”

Harry was able to summon all the objects on the desk by waving his wand and doing the “Accio” command in his head. Dumbledore then had him say the charm, but not use his wand, and Harry was able to summon all the items to him as well. Finally, Harry was to close his eyes, and using nothing but his hand, summon the items in his head. This wasn’t as easy as the other exercises.

“Concentrate, Harry, like you were practicing Occlumency. Close your mind to everything but the object you want to bring to you.” Dumbledore directed him.

Harry did as he was instructed and to his great astonishment, every item on the desk flew into his hand. He opened his eyes, looking for Professor Dumbledore, only to find that Remus and Professor Snape had joined them. Harry flushed, not sure whether to be embarrassed or excited.

“Excellent, Harry, excellent! You have indeed been practicing hard.” Dumbledore clapped his hands, and even Snape looked nonplussed. Remus smiled at him, his eyes twinkling.

“You have great potential, Harry, you just need to keep practicing and learning to refine your abilities.” Dumbledore smiled at him. “But power and ability are only a portion of what you need.” Dumbledore smiled at him. “Magical power will only get you so far against Voldemort, Harry, you must also be confident in your ability to use it. That is one of the reasons that you were taught to Apparate, and are being tested on some of the more advanced wizarding skills. We must be prepared, Harry.”

Harry nodded solemnly, as he looked at Dumbledore. They both knew the Prophecy, both knew that some how, some day, it would come down to Harry and Voldemort, and if Harry did not triumph, the entire world, wizard and Muggle, would be in danger.

“As with everything else, Harry, you need to keep practicing in secret. It certainly would not do to have anyone report back to Voldemort that your powers were being strengthened and refined.” Dumbledore stated sagely, smiling. “Although I am sure that Ron will be suitably impressed.” Harry grinned back at him, again the just-turned-16 year old.

It was quiet in the Gryffindor common room late that evening where Ron and Harry were playing wizard chess with Hermione watching. Ginny had already gone up to bed. Ron, as usual, was beating Harry soundly, even though he kept moving the pieces without touching them, to which Ron would growl “show-off” at him. Harry had just toppled his king in defeat, when Ron smacked a hand to his forehead.

“Blimey! I forgot all about Ginny’s birthday day after tomorrow! What are we going to do, I don’t have a present for her!”

“Neither do I,” said Harry, looking at Hermione, who shook her head as well. “Maybe we can go into Hogsmeade tomorrow and get something from Honeydukes.”

“No, Harry!” Hermione said quickly, “None of us can leave the castle! If we are seen, then Voldemort will know you are back at Hogwarts, and you know Dumbledore doesn’t want him to know.”

“We could use the Invisibility Cloak and go out the passage right into the back of Honeydukes.” Ron said desperately. “Ginny will be so disappointed if we don’t get her anything.”

“And if we just stay in Honeydukes…”

“Harry.” The voice of his guardian sounded from the doorway, and Harry looked up to see Remus Lupin standing there, clad in a midnight blue dressing gown and a stern look on his pale face. “If you need something, we’ll get Hedwig to fly a letter up to Fred and George in the morning, and she’ll get back by tomorrow night.”

Harry looked at him, dumbfounded. “How do you always know, Remus?”

Lupin smiled at him fondly. “Know when you are about to make mischief? Well, you seem to forget that I went to school with Sirius and James, Harry. I had to hone my skills early on, as the Headmaster always seemed to make it my responsibility to keep the two of them out of trouble. And Harry, you have no idea the trouble those two got me into!” He looked around at them. “Now, what do you need and can we send Hagrid to Hogsmeade or do we need an owl to Diagon Alley?”

They put their heads together and made up a list of items that Hagrid could obtain for them from the village without raising the suspicions of anyone who might be watching. Hermione went up to her dorm and Ron and Harry said goodnight to Remus. Their beds were warm and comfortable and they both dropped off immediately.

The rough gray walls of the Chamber of Secrets were damp and stone cold as he slithered along them. He was climbing as he went, looking for something, something just out of his reach, searching… The walls darkened and became the stone Death Chamber at the Department of Mysteries, and he tried to slither closer to the ancient archway, but his long, serpentine body stubbornly continued around the walls, searching… Searing pain split his head when he refused to follow.

Harry woke up from his nightmare, drenched in sweat and colder than he had been in a long time; his head feeling like it would burst. Automatically, the smooth walls he had erected in his mind sealed it against the snake trying to gain entry. Fumbling, retching over the side of his bed, he grabbed the watch on his wrist and pressed. Harry rubbed hard at his forehead, desperately trying to ease the pain. Gentle hands pulled the twisted bedclothes from around him and laid him back on the bed.

“You are safe now, Harry. Steady, just relax back.” Dumbledore’s reassuring voice came out of the darkness. Harry continued to tremble, knowing that his reaction would have to run its course, as usual. He took slow, steadying breaths, the pain in his head beginning to ease slightly.

“He’s searching, Professor, like he is desperate to find me.” Harry haltingly began to tell Dumbledore everything he could remember.

“When did your head start hurting, Harry?”

“When I tried to go towards the archway and the snake wanted to keep going around the chamber. It was as if he didn’t know I was aware he was there until then, and it made Voldemort really mad when he realized.” Harry was glad that Dumbledore had left the room dark, as he was still shaky and knew he must be pale. He hated this! Hated the weakness and trembling he felt whenever he dealt with Voldemort. “Why does it do this to me? Why am I so weak that it makes me…well, makes me feel all shaky and ill?”

Dumbledore sat next to Harry on the bed, his hand resting lightly on his forehead. Remus Lupin stood silently next to the bed, having come in sometime after Dumbledore. Ron’s soft, gentle snoring was the only sound in the room.

“Harry, the forced intrusion into any mind is a terrible thing, the body reacts physically to the attack, with the same type of shock as it would to a physical attack on any other part of itself. You know that even during Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape when you were prepared for it, the intrusion left you half sick. It has nothing to do with being weak, Harry, and a lot to do with being sensitized to it.” Dumbledore’s voice was thoughtful. “We will continue to practice, Harry, but I think you will always be sensitive to Voldemort due to that scar he gave you and the connection it forged between your minds.”

“Just my luck! I have practiced hard, Professor, since…since that night last term. I didn’t let him know where we were, and my walls stayed up.” Harry was feeling a bit better, and was comforted by Remus’ presence beside them. “I know that I can’t afford to be weak, because I refuse to be the cause of someone else’s death.”

“I realize, Harry, that nothing I might say is going to ease the burden you are carrying, only time will do that. It is one of the reasons I want you to share these incidents with me, so that together, we can be sure of what you are ‘seeing’.” Dumbledore moved slightly and Harry’s bedside lamp lit of its own accord. “I can’t help but think of the burden of guilt that Sirius took with him to Azkaban, Harry, and although it, and knowledge of his innocence, kept him sane, it took a great toll on him. He is the last one who would want you to suffer.”

“I know.” Harry muttered. “And I am trying, Professor.”

Dumbledore patted his shoulder and studied him carefully. Harry still felt a little shaky, but he had warmed up and his stomach had settled. “If you are feeling better, Harry, we will leave you to sleep.”

Harry nodded and pulled the covers up around his chin as the light went out and the others left the room. Sleep was slow in coming, though, and events of the past few weeks played over in his mind.

Ginny’s birthday turned out to be a smash, with tons of goodies from Honeydukes and loads of presents. The Great Hall was filled with balloons and streamers, and Mr. Weasley had arrived with Fred and George just in time for dinner. Mrs. Weasley had organized all of Ginny’s favorite foods and a huge cake at one end of the long table. Professors Flitwick, McGonagall, Dumbledore, and Madame Pomfrey joined the Weasley family, Harry, Remus, and Hermione in celebrating. Ginny loved the broomstick servicing kit that Harry gave her, blushing furiously as he kissed her on the cheek.

Harry sat back down by Remus Lupin and they watched the interplay of the family members. An arrow of envy shot through him as he watched the sibling banter. “Remus?”

His godfather looked at him. “Yes, Harry?”

“Do…do you think my mum and dad would have had other kids, if things had been different?” Harry asked quietly, watching the Weasley bothers.

“Oh, yes, Harry, I think they would have. They were both so delighted with you when you were born, James with his puffed out chest, declaring his son and heir had arrived. And your mother, who used to just sit and watch you sleep, could not have loved you more. Yes, I think if things had been different, you would have had at least a sibling or two to contend with.” There was a half smile on Lupin’s face. “Your folks were great, they let me hold you when you were a baby and all.” He laughed quietly. “You should have seen Sirius hold you for the first time, he wasn’t sure whether you were going to break or wet on him! It was very funny.”

Harry smiled at the mental picture Remus’ words created. “Sirius said my grandparents were really nice to him, too. Did you ever meet them?”

“Oh yes! What lovely people they were too, Harry, half adopted Sirius and never batted an eyelash about taking me in whenever my parents were away. They knew all about me, but never held that against me, letting me stay in that lovely manor house whenever James drug one or both of us home for the holidays.” Remus looked at Harry thoughtfully. “If you want to find out about your family, you have the immense library upstairs and the brightest witch of this school as one of your best friends. I think between them you could trace out your own family tree.”

Harry had never thought of that, and he nodded, a vision of the Black Family tapestry flashed in his mind. “That’s a great idea, Remus, maybe I actually have other living relatives, on my dad’s side.”

“You’ll never know unless you look, Harry.”

-0- -0- -0- -0- -0-

The August days turned hot and sultry, as Harry, Ron, and Hermione began to prepare for their sixth year at Hogwarts. More often than not, Ginny accompanied them as they sat under a tree on the banks of the lake, plotting out lessons to teach those returning members of Dumbledore’s Army. Remus helped them when they had questions, and made suggestions on including shielding charms, but otherwise was a watchful supporter of their activities. Either he or Mrs. Weasley was always within sight or earshot of the teenagers, not intrusive, but there if they were needed.

The full moon came and went, and Harry made sure that Remus had his Wolfsbane and was content to curl up in his room until the moon waned. Hermione went so far as to study the potion recipe and commit it to memory, if case they ever needed to brew it themselves.

It continued to be a pleasant time for Harry, who enjoyed the freedom to stay up late or sleep in, as he wanted. He could take the Firebolt out whenever he wanted, practice Quidditch or just zoom around the grounds of Hogwarts with the others trying to keep up. They laughed over silly things, played jokes on each other, and did the usual teenage things. He kept busy enough that he didn’t have time to dwell on the future or the immediate past.

Harry also found time each day to practice his Occlumency, as well as take lessons with the Headmaster several times a week. He was amazed at the power of the mind to channel magic without a word or a wand. Practicing summoning things as often as possible, it became easier, much to Ron’s amazement and disgust; Ron tried to learn with his friend, but wasn’t nearly as adept.

A week after Ginny’s birthday, they all went with Remus and Mrs. Weasley just outside the gates of Hogwarts, and spent the afternoon practicing Apparation to the Shrieking Shack and back. Mr. Weasley had made arrangements for them to be given their final test at the Ministry of Magic the following week.

Weary but excited, Harry and Ron fell into bed that night, excited over the prospect of a trip back to London.

Lord Voldemort looked down at the man Wormtail brought before him, a wizard employed as a low level clerk from the Ministry of Magic, his red eyes boring down at him. The man bowed low, gripping his hat in his hand. “I can give you Harry Potter, My Lord.” The man’s voice was shaky and nervous. “He will be in the Ministry on Thursday, prior to starting the school term.”

“Why?” The voice was cold and calculating. “What business does the Ministry have with Harry Potter?”

The man bowed even lower, his hands visibly trembling. “I don’t know, My Lord, I just heard Arthur Weasley speaking to another official in the Ministry…”

“And you hurried over here to give me this bit of worthless information, rather than finding out more?” Voldemort’s voice was furious, the rage at the ineptness of the man a personal insult. “You needn’t worry any further.” A flash of green light flared, and the man screamed.

Harry sat bolt upright in bed, his chest heaving like a bellows, his head coming apart at his scar. He groaned, slapping a hand across his throbbing forehead and fumbling for his wrist with the other. He concentrated on remembering the scene that he had just witnessed, the look of the murdered wizard, and the information he had learned. Rubbing his forehead hard, Harry rocked back and forth for several minutes, until he felt the familiar calm touch of Albus Dumbledore.

“He knows, Professor, that we are going to the Ministry of Magic next week! He killed a wizard who works there when he told Voldemort about it, because he didn’t find out why I was going.” Harry took the goblet of water Dumbledore handed him. “This dream was different, it was more like my dreams last year, when I was seeing him, but he did not know I could.” Taking a sip automatically, Harry handed the goblet to Remus, who had materialized suddenly at his other side. “And there is something else, Professor, something about the Hogwarts Express.” Harry shut his eyes tightly, trying to recapture the dream in his mind. “Something about the train platform for the start of term, but I don’t know what it was.”

“It’s alright, Harry, I think we can manage to make Voldemort really angry.” Professor Dumbledore handed Harry his glasses, and then paced to the window. The purple-tinged grayness of the approaching dawn showed on the horizon. “I think it is time that we let Lord Voldemort know exactly where you are, so that the safety of the rest of the students is also assured.” He walked back toward Harry’s bed. “Remus, I will need you to take Harry, Ron, and Hermione up to the Ministry this morning. We’ll send them by portkey back to 12 Grimmauld Place, and then via floo powder to the Ministry for their test.”

Remus Lupin nodded. “A visit to Diagon Alley seems like it would be the perfect place for Harry to be seen.”

Dumbledore nodded at the suggestion. “Yes, a visit to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes would be a normal occurrence for Harry and the others. You can Apparate from the shop back to Grimmauld and then back to my office by portkey.”

“Professor?” Harry had a sudden thought. “Wouldn’t it make sense for Voldemort to have spies already in place in Hogsmeade?”

“Yes, I am positive that he does, Harry, why?”

“Well, if we are seen in Hogsmeade between now and the time the train leaves Kings Crossing, then Voldemort has no reason to make any kind of attack on the train, right?”

Dumbledore looked down at Harry, his eyes solemn. “Yes, it would prevent him from doing anything at the train station or on the Hogwarts Express, but it may not be very pleasant for you. Voldemort is going to be very unhappy and I am sure you will feel every bit of his rage.”

Harry swung his feet over the side of the bed, and stood. “He has raged before and I have survived. I think will need to stock up on treats, Professor, as I am sure that my visits to Hogsmeade this term will be very limited.”

“Yes, you and the rest would be prime targets for any of Voldemort’s spies in the village. You must remember that once he receives word you have been spotted, whether it is at the Ministry, Diagon Alley, or Hogsmeade, Voldemort could Apparate to you immediately.”

Harry made eye contact with Dumbledore, his eyes apprehensive but determined. “Yeah, I know. I am really hoping that if we are quick enough, we will be gone before he knows.”

Dumbledore smiled at him. “Have I ever told you that you make me proud, Harry?”

“I think you mentioned that before.”

Harry began to dress and Remus gently shook Ron awake, while Dumbledore went to alert Molly Weasley and Hermione.

It was just past dawn when the portkey deposited Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Remus Lupin in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place. Arthur Weasley, looking unusually pale, was already up and had breakfast ready for them. Fred, George, and Bill were all seated around the table tucking into sausages. Sleepy greeting were exchanged as the new arrivals helped themselves to food.

“Harry, can you describe the wizard you saw in your dream?” Mr. Weasley asked in a voice that still sounded shaken.

Harry described again what he’d seen and heard trying to remember every detail he could about the short man who had died that night. He watched as Mr. Weasley nodded his head slowly.

“Sounds like Jacobs, from the Muggle Relations office. He was in the lift when I told Kingsley I need to make an appointment for you.” He frowned. “Which means that it isn’t even safe to talk at the Ministry.”

It was still early when they Apparated to Mr. Weasley’s office at the Ministry. There was an official from the Apparation Licensing Department was already there, an older wizard with a sharp gaze and a stern look. He had already spoken to Dumbledore, and quickly put the 3 of them through a series of Apparation exercises. They all passed on the first try, and were back at 12 Grimmauld by mid-morning.

The trip to Diagon Alley went like a well-organized invasion. Members of the Order were already in place when Harry, Ron and Hermione Apparated to the Leaky Caldron. They exchanged greetings with Tom the Barkeep before meeting Remus in the alley, where he had been waiting. Tonks shadowed them from the bar, dressed as an old hag wrapped in shawls. They strolled up Diagon Alley, stopping briefly to exchange greetings with fellow Gryffindor Seamus Finnegan. They caught a glimpse of Kingsley Shacklebolt reading a copy of the Daily Prophet at Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor.

They made a brief stop at the Apothecary so that Hermione could stock up on the ingredients for Wolfsbane Potion, much to Remus’ surprise. As they entered the Weasley brothers’ joke shop, the hair on the back of Harry’s neck stood up, and he could feel eyes watching them.

“Quick, everyone, we need to go!” Fred and George stood aside as Ron, and Hermione flanked Harry and dove for the backroom.

The trio Apparated immediately, arriving back at Sirius’ house, where they dropped into chairs around the empty table. Remus Apparated in right behind them. Fred and George popped in about 10 minutes later, laughing loudly.

“Well, that should make for one less spy on Diagon Alley! Ratty looking little guy ran into the shop just after you Apparated, shouting for Ron. Said he was an old friend of yours!”

Ron, Harry, and Hermione looked at each other in horror. “Wormtail!”

“Who?” asked Fred, and Ron reminded them of Scabbers, the rat that was really Peter Pettigrew.

At this point, Harry’s scar exploded with pain. His knees hit the floor and he vomited as waved of blinding pain swept over him. Voldemort’s anger was like waves of fire slamming against the smooth walls erected in his mind. Harry clamped down, trying to brace himself against the intrusion, all his concentration directed inward. Remus was at his side, as he curled up into a ball on the floor. Harry never knew whether he had pressed his watch or not, but was very glad when he felt the Headmaster’s presence. Drenched in cold sweat, still feeling sick and trembling, Harry was vaguely aware of being lifted and laid on a cot that had been conjured for him. He lay there for several long minutes, willing the pain to ebb.

“Harry?” Dumbledore’s voice brought him back to awareness. Long cool fingers rested on his forehead, and he was wrapped in a soft woolen blanket. Harry opened his eyes and looked up with a weak smile.

“Voldemort is in a towering rage, and he is very angry at Wormtail for losing us!” Harry struggled to sit up, with Dumbledore’s help. “He knows that I am not at Privet Drive, and haven’t been for a while, and he’s very frustrated that he doesn’t know where I am.” Harry looked around for Arthur Weasley. “Mr. Weasley, I think he is searching for the Burrow!”

“Its okay, Harry, we thought it might be a target when all this started, and have protected it under the same Fidelius Charm as this house.” Mr. Weasley reassured him.

Dumbledore straightened up and helped Harry to his feet. The cot disappeared along with the blanket. He looked around the room, pinning the Weasley twins with a sharp look. “Fred, George, you will need to be very vigilant as your every move will be watched.”

“We know, Professor, and Bill’s going to help us with some protection charms and things he’s learned from the goblins,” Fred said. George nodded his agreement.

“Very good, and Arthur?”

“Yes, Professor?”

“You too will need to be careful, as I am sure you are already aware.”

“Indeed I am, Professor, and Molly never misses a chance to remind me.” A smile played across Mr. Weasley’s face. “Tell her I look forward to having her back next week.”

“Yes, I will be sure to.” Dumbledore looked at Harry, Ron, and Hermione, as Remus stood behind them. “You all did very well today, and congratulations on your passing your Apparation exam. Gather round now, it is time to go back to Hogwarts.”

They were safely back in Dumbledore’s office in a matter of minutes, and Ron laughed as he pointed out that they had made it back in time for lunch. Harry was still very pale and feeling shaky, but turned to leave.

“Harry.” He stopped when Albus Dumbledore spoke, the others stopping with him. “Are you sure that you want to go through with the visit to Hogsmeade? You know what you will suffer when Voldemort finds out.”

Harry looked at Dumbledore solemnly. “A few minutes of discomfort is nothing in comparison to what could happen if Voldemort or his Death Eaters show up at King’s Cross next Sunday when the platform is loaded with kids and families.” He met the Headmaster’s eyes. “Although, it would be nice to learn how to block out the worst of the blasted headache he gives me!”

Dumbledore smiled, “Maybe we can work on that for you, Harry.”

The next morning was sunny and warm, and a light breeze stirred the leaves of the trees that lined the road into Hogsmeade. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny strolled along it, talking animatedly. Ginny had insisted, over her mother’s objections, that she go with them to add an air of legitimacy to the theory that they had all accompanied Harry to school early. They knew that Hagrid was already in the village, stationed down by the Hog’s Head Inn, and Remus would be joining them via the tunnel to the basement of Honeydukes. Mrs. Weasley had left before them and was going to be watching from the Three Broomsticks.

They strolled into the village and went right to Honeydukes, where Remus was waiting. The proprietor did not blink an eye at seeing Hogwarts students in the shop before the term had started. Harry grabbed a handful of chocolate frogs, and a bag of Bertie Botts’ Every Flavour Beans, and set them on the counter. The others also made piles on the counter, and Harry handed the owner a fistful of galleons to pay for it all. Remus stepped out before them, and watched as they set off towards the Three Broomsticks. He followed them at a distance, bringing up the rear.

Coming around the corner of the Broomstick, Harry suddenly found himself face to face with Bellatrix LeStrange, the Black cousin responsible for the death of his godfather. For an instant, unadulterated rage swelled in him, but knowing what was at stake, he slammed the smooth walls into place, ruthlessly sealed off his feelings. His wand was in his hand without conscious thought.

“STUPEFY!” He yelled before the others even saw her. “Accio wand!” Bellatrix’s wand flew from her robe and into his hand, as she fell back, hit in the chest by a jet of red light. Remus came running forward, and quickly used his wand to bind and gag LeStrange. He grabbed Ginny and was pulling her behind him.

“Come on, everyone! If she is here, there are others nearby!”

They ran into the Three Broomsticks and through to the back room where Molly Weasley had been hiding. “Colloportus!” she yelled, sealing the door.

“We need to Apparate up the Shrieking Shacking, now!” Remus said urgently, as they heard running footsteps coming across the floor.

In the next instant, all six of them were in the bedroom of the Shrieking Shack, and Remus was leading the way into the hall and down the stairs. The low, dark tunnel that led back on to the Hogwarts grounds seemed to go on forever, with only the light from their wand tips to guide them. Then they were climbing up the ladder under the Whomping Willow and emerged into the sunlight and warmth. They hurried towards the front steps of the castle, where Professor Dumbledore was waiting.

They were almost to the steps when the pain hit Harry with the punch of a lightening bolt and he collapsed to his knees. His scar split his forehead with white-hot pain, and he saw the image of a deathly pale face and flashing red eyes, both filled with fury as Voldemort used the Unforgivable Cruciatus curse on Bellatrix LeStrange. Grasping his head with both hands as it threatened to come apart, Harry struggled to brace the walls and fought to fill his mind with happy thoughts. Faintly, he heard a trill of a bird, and recognized the haunting melody as Phoenix song. He let the song fill his mind, felt the pain slowly ebb, and eventually awareness returned.

Shaky and pale, Harry found himself on his knees in the grass near the entry steps, Remus and Dumbledore beside him. The pain in his head had eased to a pounding throb, which was far better then the usual searing pain he usually felt. He looked up at Dumbledore with a weak grin.

“I got you some Chocolate Frogs.” Harry struggled to his feet as Dumbledore chuckled at him. It was then that Harry realized that Fawkes was circling around over him. “’Lo, Fawkes, thanks for the help.” Harry could have sworn that Fawkes bowed his head in acknowledgement.

Remus took his arm and helped him up the stairs into the entry hall. The whole group headed in to the Great Hall, which was already set for lunch. Harry sat down heavily in a chair and rubbed his hands over his face.

“Voldemort is very angry, especially since he knows that he can’t touch me while I am on the grounds of Hogwarts. I don’t think he knows that we have learned to Apparate, and thinks that we had a portkey set up to take us back from The Three Broomsticks.“ Harry smiled darkly. “He was very upset with Bellatrix for not grabbing me, punished her with the Cruciatus Curse.” Harry looked up at Dumbledore. “Voldemort had very carefully plotted to grab me at King’s Cross before I could get on the platform, and he was enraged that we have made a fool of him.”

“So the Hogwarts Express and the children will be safe, then Harry?” Dumbledore asked quietly.

“Yes, Professor, I think so.”

“Excellent, Harry, and all of you, well done!” Dumbledore smiled at them. “Now, I am afraid that I must ask you to start your school term a week early.” He looked at them intently. “Harry is a target, and by being his closest friends, you make yourselves targets as well. We all knew this, but the last several days have reinforced this.”

He looked at the entranceway, where Professors McGonagall and Snape stood hesitantly in the doorway. “Minerva, Severus, come in.” He looked back down at Harry. “Starting Monday, you will begin special lessons with Remus, who is staying on at Hogwarts as a tutor this term. Among other things, he is going to be instructing a special advanced class for Defense Against the Dark Arts.” Dumbledore turned his gaze to Molly Weasley who was standing beside Ginny, pale but determined. “Molly, you are needed back at 12 Grimmauld Place, but I want you to be reassured that your children, all your children, will be safe.”

Mrs. Weasley nodded with a weak smile. “Yes, Professor, I know that; both Arthur and I have every confidence in both you and them. I know Harry is safest here and therefore, the others are safe here too.”

“Am I to understand,” Snape sneered. “That these …children were able to successfully execute your plans, Headmaster?”

“Very successful indeed, Severus, and King’s Cross will be safe for Hogwarts students September 1st, thanks to these young people.” He looked at Harry with a twinkle in his eye. “Although, I do not believe Bellatrix LeStrange would be thanking them.”

“And Lupin is staying for the term?” Snape spat the words.

“Yes, Severus, as a special consultant to the Headmaster.” Professor McGonagall answered as she seated herself at the table. “Molly and I are in the process of readying the Shrieking Shack as an Apparition point and as a place for Remus to spend the full moons. Now, isn’t it time for lunch?”

After a pleasant lunch, Harry was asked to go up to the third floor classroom where he usually had his Occlumency lessons. It was a sunny and inviting place, where Harry had come to feel comfortable; he relaxed on a bench near the window that looked out towards the lake, and in a warm shaft of sunlight, he closed his eyes. Clearing his mind, smooth walls in place, he filled his mind with happy thoughts of Sirius, in hopeful invitation.

“Nicely done, Harry, you are learning quickly!” Sirius’ voice held a smile. “How are you doing? How are the others?”

“I am better, actually, much better. It does make it easier having Remus here, and, of course, Ron and Hermione make it okay for me, Sirius. They make me feel less empty.” Harry paused. “I still miss you every day.”

“I know, Harry, I can’t even begin to tell you…I just need to know that you are doing okay, that everything is alright…”

Without warning, Harry felt another presence in his mind, and started to withdraw, when he felt a familiar calm come over him.

“Sirius?” Albus Dumbledore’s voice sounded loud in his mind.

“Dumbledore? How…?” Sirius sounded surprised.

“I wanted to see if this was possible, Sirius, as I have been giving Harry Occlumency lessons, and we seem to connect well. I will be brief, as Harry has been through enough already today. Sirius, please clear up any lingering doubt that you are Voldemort or an hallucination, tell us something only the 3 of us would know.”

Sirius chuckled softly. “Put your minds at ease, both of you. We were the only three in the room after the third Triwizard task, when Fawkes healed Harry’s leg with his tears. And, I assume, that Voldemort still doesn’t know that Harry is his equal and has powers that even Voldemort doesn’t.”

“Thank you, Sirius. And I imagine you want to know what has happened.”

Harry listened to Dumbledore’s brief description of the events of the past two days, rather bemused at the exchange going on in his mind.

“Thank you, Professor, I know that Harry is safest with you.”

“I will do my best. Thank you, Sirius.”

Harry felt Dumbledore’s withdrawal and knew he needed to go too. “Sirius…”

“I know you have to go too. Harry, do what Dumbledore tells you. Stick close to Ron and Hermione, and above all, please be careful.”

“I will, Sirius, I will.”

Harry opened his eyes slowly and blinked. It took a moment for his eyes to focus on the trio speaking quietly across the room. Remus Lupin and Severus Snape had joined Dumbledore near the door. Remus had not general joined Harry for his lessons since their return to Hogwarts, his trust in Dumbledore total. The mere sight of Snape in the room made Harry uneasy.

“Harry.” Remus saw him watching them and moved toward him, his face set in an unusually stern expression. “How are you?”

“I’m all right, Remus, what’s wrong?” Harry was puzzled with his godfather’s brusque manner.

“Remus feels you have been through enough mental torture in the past 2 days, Harry, and is reluctant to allow you to be subjected to any more this afternoon.” Professor Dumbledore explained quietly as he walked to stand beside Remus. He met Harry’s eyes. “How do you feel about continuing?”

Harry maintained eye contact, but chose his words carefully, very conscious of the third person in the room. “Well, when you have given me Occlumency lessons, I don’t feel sick and shaky, like I did when…when Professor Snape gave me lessons.”

Harry had taken to ignoring Snape since the night in London, neither acknowledging him nor speaking to him. He knew that this could not continue once the term started, but he was still working through his rage. It was taking a bit of time.

“In order to further protect you, as well as strengthen the control you have, Harry, I would like to start training you in Legilimency.” Dumbledore told him. “For that, I will need assistance from Professor Snape.”

“Which,” interrupted Remus, “is what I am concerned about. Especially as Harry learns to use his powers, Professor, his working with Severus could lead to…accidents.”

Snape shot a look of loathing at Harry and sneered. “I doubt Potter could ever get the better of me!”

Remus met Harry’s eyes, and in a quiet voice addressed Snape. “And you are underestimating Harry, despite the evidence that you have experienced first hand. Did you not listen to the Prophecy that the Headmaster relayed to us, that he has powers equal to Voldemort? If I were you, Severus, I would make an effort to see past the hate that clouds your judgment.”

Lupin turned to Dumbledore who was watching the exchange silently. “I have done some study of Legilimency and Occlumency in my travels, Headmaster, perhaps I would be able to assist you.”

“You! Snape spat. “Why would you have need of such skills?”

“In order to live, one must sometimes be untruthful about ones…limitations, Severus. There are not many who would knowingly hire a werewolf.”

Dumbledore studied both men for several moments. “I will consider it, Remus, but at the moment, I need to speak to Harry alone.”

Remus smiled reassuringly at Harry and left, escorting Snape from the room.

Dumbledore sat beside Harry on the bench and looked at him intently, and Harry returned the gaze.

“Do you trust me, Harry?”

“Yes. Professor, with my life.”

“I would like to just do this once, Harry, but I need to see if I can assess what happens when you feel Voldemort. It means, though, that you will have to allow me full access to your mind, without the barriers.”

“All right.”

They stood. “Legilimens.”

Snape’s brutal invasion had only been half the ordeal, Harry learned as he struggles to not slam his defenses into place. The memories of pain returned in fresh waves as he relived incident after incident. They flashed by in rapid succession, the pain intense and then ebbing, back to the possession by Voldemort in the Ministry, and finally, into the well of guilt and despair had begun in the Death Chamber. The guilt and despair that Harry still carried with him.

Just when he didn’t think he could take it any longer, Harry found himself back, supported by Dumbledore. Trembling, Harry looked up and caught a gleam of admiration in his Headmaster’s eyes.

“Thank you, Harry, I need to consider this and think of what I can do to help.”

Harry found Ron and Hermione pacing the top of the third floor staircase when he came out. Unceremoniously, the two dragged him out of the castle and down the sloping lawn to the bank of the lake. Harry was laughing as he slid down the grassy bank. Hermione and Ron careened into him as they slid too.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, still laughing as he lay on his back, head pointing down slope towards the lake.

“Kidnapping you!” declared Hermione breathlessly.

Harry turned himself over and sat up. “What?”

“Kidnapping you, mate,” Ron repeated as he stood and began to pull treats out of his pockets.

“You have both gone nutters!” Harry muttered as he grabbed a chocolate frog.

Ron and Hermione both shook their heads. “Nope, not nutters, Harry.” Hermione began. “Ron and I have been talking since we got back to Hogwarts, and have watched you going through all kinds of lessons and stuff. We know that you have to learn to use your powers, and train to fulfill this ‘prophecy’ that you’ve been handed.”

“And we will be right there with you mind, and do anything we can to help.” Ron interjected.

“You have Dumbledore to train and guide you, and Remus to watch over you, but Ron and I figured out there is something missing.” Hermione hesitated for a second. “We figure that you need someone to make sure you are really okay, someone to make sure that you have some fun, who makes you laugh a little, and someone to get in trouble with.”

“And someone to deflate your head when it gets too big.” Ron threw in with a grin.

“Mostly, Harry, to just be there, someone you can go to who won’t ridicule you when you have a strange twinge, a bad date, or are just overwhelmed by it all.”

“Like a brother would.” Ron said.

“Or like a sister would, Harry, because we love you.” Hermione added quietly.

Harry looked from one to the other, his throat feeling constricted. “I…I don’t know what to say.”

“We know, Harry, you don’t have to say it, you’ve proved it to us time after time. Ron and I just wanted you to hear it from us.” Hermione sat down between the two of them and leaned her head against Harry’s shoulder.

Harry rested his chin on the top of her head. “Thank you.”

They sat in comfortable silence for quite some time, enjoying the sunshine and munching on the goodies they had bought at Honeydukes. Harry snatched a jelly slug from Ron’s fingers with a snap of his fingers.

“Bloody hell, Harry!” Ron dove at him, trying to wrestle it back before Harry could eat it. Harry managed to stuff it in his mouth and rolled away laughing.

Hermione showed them she’d been practicing when she summoned a chocolate frog from the pile with a wave of her finger. Ron snorted and tried to do the same, but after several attempts he’d only managed to make the frog flip over. Harry threw it at him with a grin.

As the shadows lengthened on the lawn, Harry told them about the session that afternoon, starting with Sirius asking about them. He went on to tell them about Snape and how he was struggling to get through the anger he felt towards the Potions Master. It was hard to describe the sensation of having to relive all the assaults on his mind from Voldemort since that ill-fated night in June.

“Do you think Dumbledore will let Remus help, Harry? Hermione asked.

“I dunno, but I hope so. It is funny though, remember when we first met Remus? He has always seemed to know exactly what I was thinking, finishing sentences for me, and that kind of thing.”

“Yeah, I remember thinking later that it was because he and your dad were so close.” Ron said.

“Maybe, but he said that he’d studied Legilimency.” Harry paused, studying a blade of grass in his hand for a moment, before he looked at Ron and Hermione. “I just don’t know if I can control my feelings enough to be able to learn anything like that from Snape. It would be like the Occlumency lessons he gave me, which seemed to do more harm than good.”

“That would defeat the purpose of trying to teach you, Harry, like before. Professor Dumbledore surely must recognize that.”

“Professor Dumbledore does recognize that, Hermione.” Remus Lupin’s voice startled all of them. “And he has decided to allow me to help, much to the disgust of Professor Snape.” Lupin watched them scramble to their feet, studying Harry’s face. “All right, Harry?”

“Yeah.” Harry grinned. “I think so, at least my brain has stopped hurting.”

“Good.” Lupin smiled back. “Now, you lot are late for dinner, covered in grass stains, and everyone is waiting. Come on.”

Laughing, suddenly feeling 16 again, Harry helped gather up the candy wrappers and followed his godfather and friends back up to the castle. The sun continued its slide behind them, coloring the lake with brilliant reds and oranges.

-0- -0- -0- -0-

Saturday morning dawned hot and muggy. Rather than letting them sleep in, Mrs. Weasley roused the teenagers and handed them a list of chores . The Shrieking Shack was cleaned and repaired. The tunnel underneath was cleared out. Protective charms were put into place on both these and the tunnel into Honeydukes.

Hot, sweaty and dirty, the four teens were dismissed in the early afternoon. Grabbing their swimming suits, they ran down to the lake to swim. Splashing and dunking each other, all thoroughly enjoyed themselves. Harry was sitting on the bank with Ginny, laughing as Ron chased Hermione into the water.

“Harry.” Ginny leaned over and covered his hand with hers. “I just wanted you to know that…that I…I care too.” She looked down, her cheeks red, but did not remove her hand.

Harry felt his own cheeks grow hot, but he turned his hand over and clasped Ginny’s. “I…I…uh, me too.” He cleared his throat. “Ginny, if there is a Yule Ball or anything this year, will you…will you go with me?”

“Yeah, that would be fun.” And they sat there, hand in hand for several long minutes, until Ron and Hermione returned, spraying them with water.

Dark clouds were gathering in the distance as the four of them made their way back up to the castle. They needed to get cleaned up for dinner, as it was Mrs. Weasley’s last night at the castle and they had all decided to put on their dress robes on for the occasion.

Outside the wind had picked up and lightning illuminated the Great Hall via the enchanted ceiling. Some of the teachers had started to return to Hogwarts in preparation of the start of term, now just a week away. Professor McGonagall was already sitting with Molly Weasley when Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny entered the Great Hall. Professor Flitwick, Madam Hooch, Professor Sprout, and Madam Pomfrey filtered in over the next few minutes. Remus Lupin took a seat beside Harry just as the first course was being served.

A lively discussion ensued about the DA classes that Harry had taught the previous term. Ron teased Hermione about her Patronus, an otter, as Harry laughed at him. Remus leaned forward.

“Are you telling me that you taught the entire Defensive Arts class to do the Patronus Charm, Harry?”

“Yeah, not everyone had learned it, but Hermione, Cho, and Seamus were all able to produce patronuses; everyone else at least was producing silver stuff.”

“Amazing.” Remus looked at Harry. “That is absolutely amazing, when you know that 7th years in NEWT levels have trouble with the Patronus Charm!”

“I think it was because the professor who taught me was so good.” Harry smiled at his godfather. Remus reached over and gripped Harry’s arm, a great smile on his face. Harry studied the face of the man beside him, pleased with how much better Remus was looking.

A brilliant flash of lightening had everyone’s attention as it lit the Great Hall; Professor Dumbledore chose that moment to appear in the doorway haloed in the light, and was welcomed warmly. Professor Snape came in near the end of dinner. Harry looked down at the table, pushing back the hatred, trying to repress the thoughts. This was Mrs. Weasley’s last night and he didn’t want anything to spoil it for her.

It was late when everyone finally got up from the table, stuffed full of fine food. Mrs. Weasley sent each of them up the stairs with a hug, as she was leaving first thing in the morning. Harry looked back at her from the top of the stairs, taken back by the terribly sad look on her face as she watched her youngest children go. He hesitated, but could think of no word that might comfort her, and continued up the stairs.

-0- -0- -0- -0-

Harry awoke early the next morning, just as a faint hint of gold light came through the dormitory windows. He quietly got up and dressed without waking Ron, and went downstairs. There was no one else around, and the Great Hall was unlit, so he just continued out the front doors. The grass was wet with dew as Harry headed down towards Hagrid’s cabin. They had not seen much of the large man in the time they had been back at Hogwarts, he had been very busy.

Harry strolled down the sloping lawn to the cabin door. There was no smoke coming out of the chimney, nor could he hear Fang barking. Unsure whether Hagrid was still asleep or simple not home, Harry sat on the steps leading up to the front door to wait awhile. It was a fine warm morning; all traces of last night’s storm were gone.

Harry sat in the sunlight, staring out at the forest, his thoughts drifting to Sirius. He remembered the time he saw the great black dog at the edge of the grass where he sat and how it had frightened him in the middle of a Quidditch game. Trying to keep his thoughts light, Harry thought of the other times the Snuffles had bounded towards him.

A loud “crack” nearby in the woods startled him, Harry knew it was the sound of someone Apparating close by. His hand went to the wand he carried stuffed in his jeans. His eye scanned the front of the Forbidden Forest, waiting. A rustle of undergrowth nearby alerted him, but he was still surprised when Severus Snape strolled out of the forest moments later. Harry quickly looked away, hoping Snape would just pretend that he wasn’t there.

“Potter! What are you doing here?” Snape stopped at the foot of the stairs.

Harry almost ignored the question. “Waiting for Hagrid.”

“Don’t you use that tone with me, Potter! You will watch yourself.”

Slamming the wall up to block the incredible feeling of hate that surged through him, Harry looked up in the into Snape’s eyes. “Term hasn’t started yet.”

“You go too far, Potter! Poor pitiful Potter, be nice to him, poor thing! You are pathetic!” Snape snarled at him.

Images came to mind as Harry continued to make eye contact. “And my mum was nice to you? Why? Or is that the reason you hate me so? My mum picked my dad and not you?”

Harry watched curiously as the rage surged into Snape’s face, turning it red. “What would you know of your mother? How dare you speak to me of her!”

“I have heard her death more times than I can tell you! Heard her begging your Dark Lord for mercy, heard her screams over and over!”

“If it hadn’t been for your father, you would never have been born, Potter! And you are the reason she is dead! You and your Prophecy killed her! How many people have to die for you, Potter, before you take your equal power and destiny to its fruition? Why don’t you spare the next innocent victim, and just go fulfill your Prophecy!” Snape spat at him, enraged.

The words hit Harry in the face like a slap, and he was overwhelmed with anger, all walls crumbling under the onslaught of his rage. He never saw Snape sail away from him, head over heels through the air to land 30 feet away, unconscious. He was too flooded with the rage he felt to care. In the back of his mind came the thought that if he could feel Voldemort’s rage, could Voldemort feel his? Harry struggled to rebuilding the walls, to contain the anger and despair that welled within him as deeply now as the night he lost Sirius. He tried to concentrate on the smooth stone walls, but he knew it had been his fault Sirius died, and now he had to contend with this view of his parents’ death.

Harry had no idea how long he sat there, how long it took to work through the rush of emotion and get the walls firmly in place. He tried to fill his mind full of happy thoughts of his parents and Sirius, not realizing that tears streamed down his face. Oblivious to his surroundings, he sealed off his hurt and anger, smoothed the walls repeatedly, ruthlessly clamping down on any stray thought.

“Harry.”

Opening his eyes, Harry looked into the worried eyes of Remus Lupin. The next moment Harry found himself telling his godfather what had happened in a rush. He felt Lupin’s arm encircle his shoulders and finished on a sob he couldn’t stifle. Remus held on to him until he ran out of steam, and sat with his head down.

“Do you remember what happened after that, Harry?”

“No, I was so angry that I guess I just felt overwhelmed. I didn’t see Snape leave.”

“Well, he didn’t actually leave, Harry. I was coming back from seeing Molly off at the Shrieking Shack about an hour and a half ago, and found Professor Snape on the grass about 30 feet from here.” Lupin tightened his arm around Harry’s shoulder. “It gave me quite a scare to find Snape, unconscious, on the lawn and then not be able to find you. We searched the castle looking for you and I finally saw you from the top of the Owlery. Everyone has been quite worried, I have to tell you.”

Harry looked up at Remus. “What happened to Snape?”

“I think it was either a Blasting Curse or a Stunner, but I’m not sure which.”

“What…what do you mean?”

“You blasted Snape, Harry, don’t you remember?”

Harry stared at him a moment, patted his wand in his jeans, and shook his head. “If I did, it was because of what he said to me, and I don’t remember doing anything. I just remember wishing him far away from me!” He exclaimed, defiantly.

“I believe you, Harry. Severus should have learned by now not to push you to that degree, as you have responded the same way before.” Lupin looked at him intently. “You do know that none of this is your fault, don’t you? The very last people who would want you to think you were to blame for a Prophecy made before you were born, were Lily and James. Your parents loved each other and they loved you, Harry. Your mum was nice to everyone, and made a special effort to be nice to Severus, but make no mistake, she loved your dad.”

Remus stood and held his hand out to Harry, helping him up. A glance at the sun told Harry that he had been on the steps for a couple hours, and he was suddenly apprehensive.

“Remus, is Snape okay? I just wanted to visit Hagrid, where is he?”

“Yes, Madam Pomfrey is patching Severus up, he has a mild concussion, I think. Hagrid is off on an errand for Professor Dumbledore. He should be back in the next day or so.”

“How much trouble am I in, Remus?” Harry asked in a low voice.

“Actually, Harry, I don’t think that you are in any trouble. The Headmaster specifically told Snape to leave you alone and made particular reference to these kinds of statements. I think it will be he who needs to explain what happened.” Lupin reassured Harry as they walked up towards castle. “I do want you to promise me, though, that you will not take a walk outside without at least leaving a note for me, or taking someone with you. Snape could have easily been a Death Eater Apparating into the Forbidden Forest.”

“Alright, Remus, I’m sorry, I thought I was safe here.” Harry mumbled.

Ron, Ginny, and Hermione were pacing the entrance hall as they walked and both girls flung themselves at Harry, giving him hugs and talking at once. Ron just stood looking at him reproachfully, like it was Harry’s fault they could not find him. Professor McGonagall hurried their way from the Great Hall.

“Potter! Are you all right?” She grasped his arm, as if to reassure her.

“Yes, I think so, Professor.”

“Then go in and get something to eat, you look terrible! And you lot go with him.”

As they made their way across the Hall, Harry could hear a brief, whispered conversation between the two adults, and McGonagall sounded furious. As Harry sat down at the table, a wave of apprehension flooded over him.

“I think I’m in trouble.” He told the others, and relayed to them what had happened. “All I did was wish that Snape would go away and leave me alone,” he said in a very quiet voice. “I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

Hermione looked at him hesitantly, as if delivering bad news. “Dumbledore arrived just before you came in, Harry, and he was very angry! He was a bit scary, he was so furious, didn’t even say a word to us and swept upstairs.”

“Great. Sounds like I’ve really done it this time.” Harry had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, and the idea of consuming any of the food on the table nauseated him. He took a piece of toast, but couldn’t bring it to his mouth fresh grief churned his stomach.

“Harry.”

Professor Dumbledore’s voice held a tone that Harry hadn’t heard before, and looking up, he saw the Headmaster escorting Snape in front of him to the table. Dumbledore’s eyes were stormy. Harry stood up, not sure he was up to facing what was coming. He met the light blue eyes without flinching.

“Harry, Professor Snape has something he wants to say to you.”

Harry dragged his eyes up to meet the dark eyes of the Potion Master’s and was surprised to see wariness mingled with the usual loathing. Harry tightened the walls firmly and continued to maintain eye contact. He felt Remus’ presence beside him.

“I wish to apologize, Potter, for my comments earlier, they were…unfortunate, and I am sorry.” Snape sounded less apologetic then apprehensive.

Harry gave a slight nod of his head, not trusting his voice. It must have been enough, as Snape swept away with swish of robes. He looked back up at Dumbledore, whose eyes were narrowed as they followed Snape’s departure. He turned back and met Harry’s eyes, the anger still evident in the depths of his.

“I’m sorry, Professor, I didn’t mean to do anything to him! I was just trying to visit Hagrid! I…”

“Harry, it is alright!” Dumbledore put his arm around Harry’s shoulder and steered him back to the table. “Sit down.”

Harry sat in his chair, he saw that Ron, Hermione, Ginny, were still sitting with Professor McGonagall and Remus. Dumbledore sat down beside him.

“Do you remember what you did, Harry?

Meeting Dumbledore’s eye, Harry opened his defenses, lifting the walls. “No, after…after what he said, I was just trying to control my anger, and I…I just wished that he would go away.”

Dumbledore nodding slowly, a twinkle coming in to his eyes. “I should not like to make you angry, Harry.” He studied Harry for a long moment. “You have a question.”

“Yes, two actually, one is how much trouble am I in for…for what I did to Professor Snape?”

“And?”

“And do you think Voldemort feels it when I am angry like I feel his anger?”

Dumbledore was thoughtful for a moment. “I don’t believe that Voldemort has your sensitivity, Harry, as he has always been rather emotionless. I think the scar makes you especially sensitive to his outbursts, but it doesn’t seem that he senses yours.”

Harry nodded, reassured by the quiet words. “And…the other?”

Dumbledore sighed heavily. “I have told you before, Harry, that I trust Severus Snape. I have continued to underestimate the depth of his emotion where your father is concerned. I never thought he would…do what he did this morning. It won’t happen again, Harry, I promise you. You have no blame in what has happened, now or before you were born. You are not yet ready to fulfill your destiny, and it is our job to make you ready, and keep you safe until that time.” He took in the others in the room. “I know Remus has already told you that you need to make sure we know your whereabouts, or take one of us with you. Those of us here want what is best for you, Harry.” His eyes twinkled as Harry eyes shot to Transfiguration teacher. “Professor McGonagall has watched over you as long as I have, Harry, and she was with me the night we left you at Privet Drive.”

Harry looked at his head of house in surprise. She gave him a rare smile.

“Now, what do we have here for breakfast?”

Harry would have liked nothing better than to hide in the dormitory by himself for the afternoon, but the others would not hear of it. They were determined not to let him dwell on the dreadful words that had been hurled at him this morning. Ron dragged Harry back up to the dormitory to straighten up and put away the clean robes that Mrs. Weasley had left for them. Harry tried hard to ignore Ron’s obvious scrutiny while they cleaned.

“What!” Harry couldn’t stand it any more.

The tips of Ron’s ears went red. “I…I want to learn what ever it was that you used on Snape, no matter how hard it is! You have to teach me, Harry! I am your best mate!”

Harry had to laugh, of all the things that he had dreaded being asked, he had not thought of this. “Okay, Ron, I’ll teach you!”

Lunch was a happier affair than breakfast had been, although it was just Hermione, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Remus who appeared for the sandwiches and soup. Still somewhat subdued, Harry smiled faintly at the interplay between Ron and Hermione. Remus leaned towards Harry and draped an arm around Harry shoulder, meeting his eyes.

“All right, Harry?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

“What are you doing this afternoon?” Remus asked, still studying Harry’s face.

“We are going up to the library, Remus,” Hermione announced. “Harry wanted to look up his family history, and we are going to help him.”

They spent most of the afternoon in the quiet library, poring over books on wizarding families. They were concentrating on James Potter’s family, as Harry’s mum had been muggle-born. Hermione seemed to be getting more and more excited as the afternoon went by, but would not tell them why. Ron and Harry tried to construct a family tree like the one on the tapestry that used to hang in Sirius’ house. Ginny took over the writing in disgust as the boys crossed out yet another name.

“Your dad’s family is another of the old pure-blood families, Harry.” Ron commented. “You might even be related to us.”

“Yeah, Sirius always said that all the pure-blood families where inter-related. It wouldn’t surprise me if we were.” Harry seemed to brighten at the idea. “And maybe I am actually related to Sirius on your dad’s side, Ron, not the Malfoy side!” Harry repressed a shutter. “Not sure I could handle that!”

“Uh oh.” Ginny sat back for a moment. “What would you do if I told you that you’re related to Snape, Harry?”

“What!” Harry roared. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“Would I do that? His is a pure-blood family too, you know. The good news is that you’re related by marriage, not blood, I think, and a number of times removed.”

“Thank goodness,” Harry murmured in relief.

Hermione chose that moment to slam a huge, dusty volume on the table. The others jumped back and looked up at her.

“You are not going to believe this, Harry, you are just not going to believe it!”

“What?” Harry asked, not sure he wanted to know.

“Your mum and dad were living in Godric’s Hollow when you were born, right?”

“Yeah.” Harry just looked at her.

“I think that your grandparents lived there as well, in fact, I think your family has lived there for a very long time. It seems the Potters have been there for many generations, according to this book. If this is true, Harry, your family goes clear back to the founding family of Godric’s Hollow.”

Harry looked at her blankly, not quite sure what she was taking about.

“Harry, I think you may be the last heir of Godric Gryffindor.”

A stunned silence followed Hermione’s statement. Harry was speechless, remembering the sword he pulled from the Sorting Hat in the Chamber of Secrets, and Albus Dumbledore’s words afterward ‘only a true Gryffindor could have done that’. He looked at Hermione.

“Do you really think so?” he asked quietly.

Hermione nodded. “I will have to check on a few things, but yes, Harry, I think so. Do you remember what Sirius said to Wormtail that night in the Shrieking Shack? ‘Going to give your master the last Potter?’”

“I remember that.” Ron said. “I wondered about it too.”

Hermione looked thoughtful. “It makes sense, Harry, when you remember that Voldemort is the heir of Slytherin.”

It fell into place in Harry’s mind, the whole Prophecy and why Voldemort chose him. Why so many people in his father’s family had been killed.

“Well, I guess that is the answer to some of the questions I have had.”

“Let me make sure of the facts, Harry, but I am pretty convinced.” Hermione told him.

By the end of the afternoon, they had pretty much established a direct line through James Potter’s family to the co-founder of Hogwarts.

The next morning, Harry was shaken from a deep sleep earlier than he would have liked by Remus, who woke Ron as well. Cheerfully, he badgered them into their clothes and down to the common room, where Ginny and Hermione were waiting. Porridge and toast were waiting in the Great Hall, and the five of them ate quietly.

The third floor classroom had been prepared for them with the desks moved back against the far walls. The early morning sunlight lit the room warmly as Remus lined them up in a row, and put them through the basic summoning and vanishing charms. They made steady progress showing him what they had taught themselves, and by mid-morning, Ginny and Ron were trying to produce a patronus, while Hermione watched and offered advice.

Harry took the opportunity to do his morning Occlumency practice. He secured and smoothed the walls that were in place, concentrating his thoughts on the happiness he felt while playing Quidditch, flying on his Firebolt. Everything else faded except the feeling he was concentrating on, which seemed to pulse with form like a living thing.

“Harry?”

Remus’ voice filtered into his consciousness, and Harry refocused outward, opening his eyes. Everyone was gathered in front of him.

“I am going to take these three down to the first floor broom closet, where I found a boggart yesterday. We’re going to see what we can do with it, alright?”

Harry nodded at them and closed his eyes again, listening to the sounds of their footsteps dying away. He tried to resume his practice, but his concentration was broken. Deciding to join the others on the first floor, Harry got up and stretched. He made his way to the staircase and was on the second flight down when the top of his head split open with a white-hot flash of pain. Missing the next stair, Harry tumbled down to the next landing, where he sprawled, panting heavily.

The throbbing of his scar made his stomach churn, and Harry tried to concentrate on smoothing his mental walls. He groped for his wrist, gasping in pain. He thought of the blinding pain that had hit him, the insane laughter that had followed. Lord Voldemort was very happy, he was getting something he had wanted for a long time. His Death Eaters had captured Igor Karkaroff, and were returning him to the Dark Lord. No one ran away from Voldemort and lived.

Harry sat up, gingerly testing parts of his body for injury. A lump on the side his head was throbbing along with his scar and the rest of him felt stiff and bruised. He struggled to his feet, as he heard the sound of footsteps hurrying his way.

“Harry! What happened?” Albus Dumbledore appeared at his side.

“He’s really, really happy, Professor. Someone found Karkaroff and he is being brought to him.” Harry grimaced. “Unfortunately, I was coming down the steps at the time.”

Dumbledore steadied Harry and they made their way down to the Great Hall. Madam Pomfrey was already there for lunch, and hurried over.

“Potter, what did you do this time?” She exclaimed as she helped him into a seat.

“Fell down the stairs.”

“Did you lose consciousness?”

“Uh…no, I don’t think so.”

Madam Pomfrey fussed over him as he sat with his eyes closed, Dumbledore standing beside him. Remus came in with Hermione, Ron and Ginny for lunch, and stopped in the doorway. After being assure that Harry was banged up but okay, they sat down for lunch. Harry sat down with them, his stomach still unsettled. Hermione bullied him into a little soup and pumpkin juice.

“Took care of that boggart with no problem, Harry, you should have seen me.” Ron announced. “Remus even let us each practice our patronus on it.”

“That’s great, Ron,” Harry said with a smile he didn’t feel. He felt a strange foreboding, like something else was going to happen. He knew that once Voldemort had Karkaroff, he was sure to kill him. Harry dreaded that, as he knew that he would be an unwilling witness.

They headed backup to the classroom after lunch, Harry feeling every bump he had taken as he went up the stairs. Professor Dumbledore walked up the stairs deep in conversation with Remus. They started by splitting up, Harry going with Remus to start Legilimency, while Dumbledore sat with Ron, Ginny and Hermione to teach them the basics of Occlumency.

Harry watched as the Headmaster sat the others down and explained to them how they were to protect themselves, exactly how they were to practice, and what to expect when he tested them. Remembering the horrific sessions in Snape’s office, Harry was glad that they had the chance to learn this from Dumbledore.

“Harry,” Remus said softly.

Harry turned to look at his godfather with a grin. “Sorry. I am ready.”

Remus directed Harry to sit down on the bench near the window, and began to explain the principals of Legilimency. He explained that the Legilimens does best when he has eye contact with the subject from whom he is trying to extract information. Describing how to best cast the spell, Remus gave him step-by-step instructions on protecting his own thoughts while maintaining eye contact. Harry did as he was instructed with dismay results on the first try. Remus just laughed, assuring him that he had done fine for a first attempt.

By the end of the afternoon, Harry had developed a nagging headache and was glad to finish for the day. He appreciated the fact that both Remus and Professor Dumbledore were patient and not intrusive as he worked with both. Ron and Ginny were still working on closing off their thoughts and emotions, while Hermione had been able to close off her thoughts enough to have Remus test her while Dumbledore was instructing Harry.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Hermione said, rubbing her temples.

“For what?”

“For not understanding what you were going through last year, as I can just imagine how much worse this was to endure at Snape’s hands.” They were walking down to dinner, trailing behind the others.

Harry smiled grimly. “Yeah, you remember how I was after those sessions, this is easy compared to Snape.”

Hagrid arrived in the Great Hall as dinner was getting started, much to the delight of the young people. He wanted to know everything they were doing and seemed to pay particular attention to Harry, whose headache still lingered.

“Harry, you are pretty quiet there, are you alright?”

Harry smiled at him. “Yeah, just hit my head this morning and it still hurts a bit.”

Harry was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, his head still vaguely aching.

The room was dimly lit, a couple of small candles flickered tentatively. A tall thin figure stood with what light there was to his back as the bound man was brought before him.

“Karkaroff, what a delightful surprise,” Voldemort said silkily in his high cold voice. “I have been looking forward to seeing you again.”

Karkaroff fell to his knees, bowing low before him. “Master, I can not believe my eyes!”

“Liar. You felt the mark burn, you knew, but you did not come.” With a wave of his hand, the bonds were gone. “I have heard tales of betrayal.”

Karkaroff began to prostrate himself at Voldemort’s feet, whimpering. “Master, I did what I had to…to stay alive so that I might serve…”

“Liar, you betrayed my loyal servants, so that you might be free!”

“Please, My Lord, I can help you…”

Voldemort’s laugh held no humor. “How can you help me, traitor?”

“I have information, Master, that could help you in your quest for Harry Potter! I was at Hogwarts last year, I have knowledge…”

“Really, and why would I would I believe anything you would tell me, Karkaroff? Perhaps you need a reminder. Crucio!”

Karkaroff’s screams reverberated against the walls. Releasing the curse, Voldemort demanded. “There is one of my Death Eaters left at Hogwarts, what do you know of him?”

“Snape…Snape is not yours, Master, he…he serves Dumbledore now.”

“Why do you say this?”

“I have seen it, he spies on your faithful, Master, and reports to his Headmaster. It is how he stayed out of Azkaban…I can bring him to you…”

“You have outlived your usefulness, Karkaroff. You failed your Master.”

“Master! No!! NO!!”

“Avada Kedavra!”

The familiar searing of white-hot pain woke Harry from sleep, and he managed to throw himself to the side of his bed to retch. He could still see the bright flash of green light in his mind’s eye, and knew that what he had feared, had happened. Grabbing his glasses and wand from his bedside table, he staggered to the doorway on trembling legs. Snape was next, his mind shouted to him. He had to get to the Potion’s Master, and had to stop him from leaving. He staggered out of the portrait hole and down the stairs, falling to his knees several times as the pain ripped through his head. Eyes blurry and burning, he focused his mind on finding Snape.

Somehow Harry found his way through the Entrance Hall, and to the dungeon stairs, before his legs collapsed under him and he fell hard. He could hear running footsteps and struggled to his feet again.

“Potter! What is the meaning of this?” Severus Snape stood above him in a towering rage, a black dressing gown thrown hastily over a blue nightshirt.

Harry grabbed at Snape’s arm, trying desperately to communicate. He felt Snape stiffen at his touch, but held on.

“Danger…you are in danger…Voldemort…” Harry felt his stomach churn, and he went down to his knees again.

Strong hands caught him, and cool fingers rested against his burning scar. Calm flooded through him, as a single note of Phoenix song sounded in his mind. He took several deep breaths, and stood with the gentle hands helping him. Without looking, he knew that Dumbledore and Remus were both there, supporting him.

“What is going on here?” Snape snarled at him, white faced.

Harry looked at him, meeting the furious eyes. “Karkaroff told Voldemort that you were a spy, working for Professor Dumbledore.”

“Severus, why are you out of your room?” Albus Dumbledore was clad in a purple dressing gown over a snowy white nightshirt.

“He called me! It woke me up, but he wasn’t there. I came looking for him!” Snape’s tone had taken on an uncertain tone.

“Harry did not make it past these stairs, Severus, how could you have heard him?” Remus’ voice was curious.

Snape appeared to be at a loss for words.

“I do not believe that you heard Harry calling you with your ears, Severus,” Dumbledore stated, and then steered Harry to a step on the main marble staircase. “What else happened, Harry?”

Harry relayed what he’d seen in his dream dully, rubbing at the throbbing scar. “Karkaroff is dead, and Voldemort ordered Malfoy to bring Snape to him, so he can put him under the Imperius Curse, after he questions him.” Harry refused to look at Snape, wondering why he had bothered to care what happened to him. The man loathed him, as much or more than he had hated Harry’s father and godfather.

“Harry, could you tell where Voldemort was?” Dumbledore asked.

Harry concentrated on the remnants of the dream that lingered in his mind. “No, it was a dark room lit by a couple of candles. Malfoy and another Death Eater were there too, they had found Karkaroff for Voldemort.”

“Which means the Death Eaters are out of Azkaban, as well, Professor?”

“Yes, Remus, but we had anticipated that would happen. I am more concerned about how we will proceed from here.” Dumbledore lifted his hand and put it on Harry’s shoulder. “Harry, the watch I gave you has one of Fawkes’ feathers in it. When this happens, if you can press the dial and hold your finger on, I think it will help you with the pain you feel.”

Harry looked up into the serious blue eyes, searching for answers. “What happened, Professor, why did Sn…Professor Snape hear me before I got downstairs?”

Albus Dumbledore maintained eye contact with Harry, although his words seemed more for Snape than Harry. “I am not sure whether it was the prior contacts between your minds, Harry, or the fact that as you learn to control and use the powers you have, your mind is better able to focus outward, but you were able to reach out from across the castle and touch Professor Snape’s mind. I believe that if you continue to learn and train, you will find that you have immense power, Harry.” He exchanged a glance with Remus. “You were able to wake both Remus and me without touching the watch.”

Harry started at him disbelievingly. It was hard to believe that, when a mere strong emotion from Voldemort brought him to his knees.

Dumbledore turned from Harry to survey Severus Snape intently. “Well, Severus, this may well change things for us.”

“I believe that I would be able to stand up to any challenge the Dark Lord might put to me, Headmaster, if you are taking Potter’s word for this.”

“Oh, I am, Severus. I am not sure that I am willing to let you be subjected to the lengths that Voldemort may go to in order to confirm your veracity.”

Snape threw a contemptuous look at Harry. “I am confident that I can.”

Dumbledore studied Snape for several minutes. “Really? Harry, come over here.”

Harry stood and moved to stand beside Dumbledore. “Severus, Harry had his first Legilimency lesson this afternoon. I would like him to try it on you, and see if you can manage to withstand it.”

With a look that went beyond loathing, Snape stepped into position opposite Harry. Harry looked directly into the dark eyes. “One…two…three…Legilimens!”

Thoughts and feelings rushed by him as Harry concentrated. He was searching for a memory of his mother, something that would tell him why Snape hated him so much. He was lost, shifting through memories of himself, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Harry withdrew immediately and found Snape on his knees across from him. Harry frowned and his eyes flew to Dumbledore’s, unsure of what had happened.

Remus stepped over and helped Snape to his feet. Severus Snape looked stunned, his long, greasy hair falling forward on his face. He pushed his hair back with his hands, his head still slightly bowed, not looking at anyone.

“Are you alright, Severus?” Remus asked him, with a steadying hand still at his elbow. Snape looked at Lupin with an expression of almost fear, but he nodded.

“Severus, what happened?” Dumbledore asked.

“I do not know. I do not understand how…how this happened.” Snape looked at Dumbledore. “Perhaps I need to get some more sleep.”

“Yes, yes, Severus, go back to bed, we will sort this out in the morning.” Dumbledore beckoned Harry over to him. “I will walk you upstairs, Harry.”

The three of them start up the steps in silence, Harry was trying to figure out what had just happened, as he never thought he’d be able to do what he’d just done. Had he really penetrated Snape’s mind or were the fleeting images he had seen just his imagination? As they continued up the stairs in silence, Harry’s apprehension grew. Had he done something wrong?

The silence continued until they had reached the Gryffindor common room, were Albus Dumbledore motioned him into a chair by the fire. Remus sat on the arm of the chair, his hand resting on Harry’s shoulder. With a wave of his wand, a tea tray appeared on the table in front of Harry. Dumbledore poured a cup and handed it to Harry.

“I owe you an apology, Harry.” Dumbledore stated heavily as he sat down in the chair next to Harry. “I am afraid I used you to try and make a point with Severus.”

Harry looked at him. “What happened down there?”

Albus Dumbledore looked tired in the flickering light of the dying fire. He sighed. “Professor Snape is determined to carry on his mission for the Order, but your news means we need to be very cautious in how we continue. He conveniently has forgotten what happened last spring when he was giving you Occlumency lessons. He had been very surprised on several occasions that you showed an aptitude at Legilimency even then.” He smiled at Harry’s look of surprise. “Yes, I know, he led you to believe just the opposite, Harry. Never the less, Severus prides himself on being resistant to any onslaught to his mind. He just doesn’t realize what lengths Voldemort will go to in order to ensure that Severus is not working for me.”

Harry’s confusion must have shown on his face, as Dumbledore put his hand on Harry’s knee. “Remember how I told you, Harry, that Voldemort transferred powers to you the night he gave you that scar?” Harry nodded. “Those powers, plus your own natural abilities, which are quite formidable, make you a very powerful wizard. I am by no means surprised. Given your parents, I would not have expected less.” He met Harry’s eyes. “You mother was an extremely talented witch, Harry, and as I keep saying, you are truly her son.” Dumbledore chuckled suddenly. “James was even more talented than I thought, becoming an Animagus in his 5th year, truly amazing.”

“I knew that you would be able to penetrate Severus’ barriers, Harry, although you haven’t learned enough yet to be able to isolate any of the images.” Dumbledore look at him shrewdly.

“I saw flashes of memories, mostly ones of me and how much Professor Snape hates me.” Harry assured Dumbledore. “I was trying to understand why.”

“Some things transcend understanding, Harry, and this may be one of them. I am pleased with your swift progress, though.” Dumbledore looked at Remus Lupin. “You did well yesterday, Remus.” Lupin inclined his head in acknowledgement.

“I do want to remind you, Harry, that life is about the choices we make when a decision must be made. Making the right decision often takes more courage than making the easy decision, as you already know, to your credit. As you learn more and are able to do more, these decisions will become very critical.” Dumbledore stood and bid them good night.

Harry and Remus sat for several long moments in companionable silence.

“Remus, will you tell me about my mum and dad, please?”

Lupin tightened his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “I would be delighted to, Harry. Let’s plan on having a picnic tomorrow by the lake, and I’ll tell you everything you want. Okay?”

Harry looked up at him, his bright young face looking tired and drawn. “Yeah, that would be great, Remus, thanks.”

“Up to bed then, young man, and sleep in, okay?”

Harry smiled at his godfather as he headed back to the dormitory. He fell in to a deep, dreamless sleep.

The picnic plans expanded to include Hermione, Ron and Ginny after a morning of hard work in the third floor classroom. They knew the purpose, and had asked if Harry minded them listening in. A visit to the kitchens had laden them with all kinds of delicious foods and juice, and they spread a blanket under a tree near the lake. As they ate, Remus regaled them with tales of his adventures with James and Sirius. He started with short, funny tales of teenage exploits, moving on to stories of juvenile pranks and school detentions. Harry asked about the scene he had seen in Snape’s memory, and Lupin relayed it in full detail in a quiet voice.

“While I am sure that your father would have been embarrassed by his actions, if he were here now looking back on his 15 year old behavior, Harry, you have to remember he WAS only fifteen. Is there nothing you look back on from your first years at Hogwarts that you don’t think, well that was dumb?”

All of them nodded.

“We were very unlikely mates, actually.” Remus went on. “Both Sirius and James were from pure-blood, old money wizarding families that were treated almost like royalty. James was a much-loved only son, and had strong family ties. Sirius was, well, he told you about his family, Harry, and you all have seen the Black family home. Sirius was never good enough for either of his parents and was embarrassed by their pureblood fervor and dark arts preferences. Then there was Pettigrew, who might have been pure-blood, but never was in the same league as the Blacks or the Potters, with minimal powers and none of the good-looks of the other two.”

Remus paused, a frown creasing his brow as if he was thinking about what Peter had done to his friends. “And then there was me.” He laughed. “Like most modern wizarding families, there is muggle blood in mine, and of course, there was my other affliction. Sirius and James could not have cared less about my parentage or lack of the kind of money they had. We had a kinship that transcended blood ties, and the 3 of us at least, would have died for each other.” He looked up at his listeners. “Rather like the friendship you lot have.”

The teenagers looked at each other and nodded. They didn’t need the words, they knew.

“Then there was Lily. Warm, vivacious, and what a temper! She had the ability to pin you to your seat with a piercing glare when she was mad. If looks could kill, there were days that Sirius and James would have died over and over.”

“And of course, I am reminded of my friends every day.” Remus reached out and cupped Harry’s chin and lifted, so that their eyes met. “I know you are probably tired of hearing it, Harry, but you so look like James, and Lily’s eyes sparkle at me from yours.”

Harry smiled sadly. “No, really, I never tire of it, Remus, as that is pretty much all I have left of them.”

“Lily would have been delighted with the way you are, Harry, as that was the kind of person she was. She was very kind to everyone, very smart, and so pretty. Even to Snape, who wasn’t very nice to her, usually. She helped everyone in our year study, not just us Gryffindors either, but anyone who needed it.” Remus smiled at Hermione. “You remind me very much of Lily, Hermione, smart, clever, tenderhearted, and pretty.” Hermione went pink with pleasure. “And she was very pretty, Harry! I think we were all a bit in love with your mum in those days, but James tumbled really hard.” Remus chuckled. “Although at first, it seemed they argued more than anything. James was a bit, uh, bigheaded, given his ability at Quidditch and all, and Lily never let him forget it! It wasn’t until the start of our last year, when they were Head Boy and Girl that she agreed to go out with him.”

“Sirius and I had to plot really, to get James to take that last step. We dared him to kiss Lily under the mistletoe, Christmas of our 6th year, even though he was sure she’d slap him. Well, Lily didn’t slap him and started to look at him in a whole different way after that. I’m not sure whether James ever knew what hit him, but they were pretty much inseparable our last year. Seems like just yesterday, really.”

Remus fell silent, a look of sad reflection flitting across his face. The others picked up the conversation and turned it to a lively discussion of the prospects of the Gryffindor Quidditch team for the coming year. Remus listened to them in silence, his eyes on Harry more often then not.

Harry laid back, his head cushioned on his hands, and closed his eyes, the conversation flowing around him. Warm and comfortable, he smoothed the walls in his mind, strengthen his defenses, and turned his thoughts to his dad, mum and their best friend.

“Hello, Harry.”

“Hi, Sirius.”

“How are you? What has happened?”

Harry told Sirius all that had happened since they had arrived back at Hogwarts after the Apparition test, up to the vision he’d had the night before, and the scene in the Entrance Hall with Snape. “It was really weird, Sirius, to be able to page through someone’s memories like that.”

Sirius’ voice held amusement. “I bet it surprised ol’ Snape a bit, didn’t it! “

“Yup, sure seemed to,” Harry answered with a grin. “But it was kind of scary, too, just to be able to do that.”

“You have not yet realized your own abilities, Harry.” Sirius had taken a serious tone. “If you didn’t possess the powers you do, you would not be able to communicate with me. I am not surprised, but it does mean that you need to learn to focus and control the power that you have, Harry.”

“I’m trying, Sirius, I really am. Remus is helping to teach me Legilimency and Dumbledore is giving me Occlumency lessons. We are also learning advanced Defense stuff, too.”

“Good, Harry, good, Ron and Hermione, too?”

“Yes, and Ginny, because she is with us so often. Remus says that the returning DA members will get to take an advanced Defense against the Dark Arts class too, as we learned so much on our own last term.”

“Very good, and Remus is holding up well?”

“Oh, yeah, he looks tons better too, as he’s drinking the Wolfsbane potion regularly now. Hermione is going to take over brewing it too, so that we know how and never have to worry about it again.”

“Snape complaining?”

“No, we just…feel better doing it ourselves.”

“Alright, but remember Harry, Dumbledore trusts Snape, and you need to respect that, okay.”

“Okay. Sirius? What’s it like, over there?”

Sirius was quiet for a while. “I can’t even tell you, or describe it, Harry, but I only ‘exist’ when I talk to you.”

“I don’t…”

“Harry.” Remus’ voice drew Harry back to awareness. “Harry?”

Harry sat up to find that everyone was looking at him. “What?”

“It is time to go in, Harry, but we had trouble waking you up.”

Harry smiled at them and stood. “Sorry, I was dreaming about Sirius.” He caught the look that his guardian shot at him, and nodded slightly. He knew he would be talking to the Headmaster before dinner, relaying his conversation with Sirius.

The expected conversation took place after dinner and in the privacy of Dumbledore’s office. Remus joined them, but stayed in the background as Harry relayed his conversation with Sirius. Dumbledore listened silently, and then got up and moved to the black cabinet along the wall near Fawkes perch. He removed the Pensieve and placed it on his desk.

“Harry, I should like you to come over here and sit at my desk, as I think it is time for you to learn to use the Pensieve. Not so much for these conversations with Sirius, which I am not sure will take, but I would like you to remember the dreams you have had of Voldemort. From the most recent one of the other night, as far back as you can clearly remember, but especially the ones that involved Arthur Weasley and the one Voldemort fabricated about Sirius.”

Harry sat as he was directed and listen intently as Professor Dumbledore instructed him on how to use his wand to pluck the memories from his mind. It was certainly harder than it had looked when Harry had watched Dumbledore and Snape do it. After several intense hours, Harry was finally able to put the tip of his wand to his temple and draw out a silvery, gossamer fiber, and drop it into the stone basin. A grin of satisfaction split his tired face, before he concentrated again on the task.

Remus Lupin looked on with concern, as Harry carefully drew strand after strand out and dropped it in to the basin. Harry knew he was just trying to watch out for him, but he needed to do as Dumbledore asked. Sitting back and closing his eyes, Harry shifted through memories, until he came across the memory that was one of the most painful of his life. He isolated the dream he had during his History of Magic O.W.L. exam that past June. The dream that set into motion the events that led to the death of his godfather. Unbeknownst to Harry, tears flowed down his face as he withdrew the silvery thread, and opened his eyes to watch it fall into the Pensieve. Brushing an impatient hand across his face, Harry closed his eyes again and found the memory of the dream in which Mr. Weasley was injured, and dropped that in the basin as well.

“Alright, Harry, that will do for now.” Albus Dumbledore laid his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Now, stir it with your wand and let’s see what we can determine.”

The three of them stared into the Pensieve as dreams played across the surface. Several of the visions that Harry had had before dream of Mr. Weasley played, so dark and blurry at the edges that they seemed like dream sequences. Then the dream of Sirius began, and Harry blinked fiercely.

“Ahhhh, look here and here, Harry.” Dumbledore pointed to the sharp edges of this dream. “This is how we can tell a real dream, where you are truly seeing unwitting images from Voldemort, as opposed to a dream deliberately planted in your mind.” The Headmaster laid his hand on Harry’s arm. “This is what I was hoping to find, this way to tell the difference between the dreams you have had. I believe that we would find a number of the dreams you had last spring were actually planted, trying to lure you to the Ministry of Magic, in order to draw you to the Prophecy.”

Harry nodded, elated but feeling exhausted, his scar prickling uncomfortably. He winced, and rubbed it absently with the back of his wand hand.

“Scar hurt, Harry?” Remus asked him quietly.

“Yeah, just a twinge.” Harry answered. “It happens a lot more these days.”

Dumbledore surveyed Harry’s tired face over his half-moon glasses. “Alright, Harry, I think we’ve done enough for tonight. Let me show you how to retrieve these, and we’ll go to bed.”

Harry retrieved his thoughts from the Pensieve and stood to leave. His head achy and throbbing, his scar continued to prickle. He stopped halfway across the room and turned back to look at Professor Dumbledore.

“I’m not sure any of us should go to bed.” Harry gave a crooked grin. “The way my head is feeling, I think something is going to happen.”

Dumbledore smiled. “I can imagine that is a bothersome feeling, Harry, as if they are plotting to interrupt our sleep. I dare say, we’ll go ahead and try, though, alright?”

Harry slept badly that night; his scar ached and his dreams were restless. He woke up Wednesday morning feeling hollow eyed and exhausted. Before he even opened his eyes, Harry turned his attention inward, smoothing the walls in his mind, filling it with happy thoughts of his friends. He made his way slowly through the pathways and corridors, checking to make sure all were sealed and secure. Assured that everything was in place, Harry opened his eyes, startled to find Albus Dumbledore’s nose a bare inch from his own.

“Good morning, Harry, how does your head feel?” Dumbledore straightened up and sat on the edge of the bed, handing Harry his glasses.

Harry rubbed his scar. “It still prickles, Professor, like it is on the verge of hurting worse, or something is going to happen.”

“And you said that it has felt this way before?”

Harry nodded. “Yes, it has felt like this at times since Voldemort’s return, especially after Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape.”

Albus Dumbledore looked thoughtful, and seemed to be studying the lightening bolt shaped scar on Harry’s forehead as if it might give him a clue at to why it was acting peculiar. “When you had this before, do you remember if it was when you were dreaming of the Department of Mysteries, Harry?”

“I dunno…maybe.” Harry tried to think. “Yes, I think it was when I was having those dreams a lot last spring.”

“Perhaps it is a sign that Lord Voldemort is plotting again, Harry. You have learned to protect yourself too well for him to plant images in your dreams, so this maybe how he is testing you. Whatever it is, I believe we will need to be watchful.”

After breakfast, Harry joined the others in the third floor classroom, where they were working on shielding charms and the incantation to bind an opponent. They took turns shielding and binding each other, with a lot of mistakes and much laughter. Harry’s head still ached, so he sat down to watch the others after he had mastered the charms. A feeling of unease had settled over him, and he stared out the window at the overcast sky without really seeing it.

Harry hung back as the others left the classroom for the Great Hall, the sense of unease strengthening. Remus noticed and walked back to him.

“Alright there, Harry?” He frowned in concern.

“No…Remus, where is Professor Dumbledore? I think I know something…” Harry’s voice trailed off as his scar gave a painful twinge.

Remus gripped his arm. “I’m not sure, Harry, but I can find him, why?”

“I just…can someone go check on Fred and George Weasley at their shop, I just have a bad feeling…I’m not sure I can really explain it…” Harry rubbed at his scar absently, feeling a bit foolish.

Lupin looked at him intently, clearly taking what Harry was saying seriously. “Of course, I’ll attend to it immediately. Are you alright to go on downstairs?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” Harry gave his guardian a half smile. Remus nodded and turned up the marble staircase towards Dumbledore’s office.

Harry didn’t mention anything to the others as they had lunch, although Hermione seemed to be eyeing him sharply. After they were done, Ginny went up to write her mum a letter; Harry, Ron and Hermione decided to take a stroll outside.

“You going to tell us what’s going on, Harry?” Hermione asked conversationally.

Harry grinned at her. “How’d you know something was up?”

“You look terrible, and you have been rubbing your scar all morning. Where did Remus go?”

“Well, it’s probably nothing,” Harry shot a look at Ron. “But I asked Remus to send someone to check on Fred and George.” Ron paled. “Not for any special reason, Ron, I just had a bad feeling.”

“Your bad feeling is good enough for me, mate.” Ron said quietly. “Guess we’ll just have to wait for Remus to come let us know what’s going on.”

They walked in silence for a while, down the grassy slope towards the lake. The gray skies were reflected in the dark waters of the lake. They were skipping rocks across the water’s surface when searing pain erupted in Harry’s head. Ron was able to catch him before he hit the rocks and the water along the shoreline. Hermione ran over and grabbed his other arm and they got him back to the grass.

Harry concentrated on the smooth walls and tried to summon Phoenix song in his head, which had helped him minimize the pain before. His stomach churned with the intensity of the pain, which felt like his head was splitting open. Belatedly, he thought about the watch and got a finger on it pressed. Instantly, the trilling notes of Phoenix song filled his mind, and the pain eased. Sitting up slowly, Harry, his eyes still closed against the pain, felt a grin split his pale face.

“Harry?” Albus Dumbledore put his hand on Harry’s head.

“Fred and George okay, Professor?” Harry asked as the calming effect his Headmaster always had settled on him.

“Alas, there was nothing left to be done when Tonks, Kingsley, and Remus arrived.” Dumbledore’s fingers rested on Harry’s forehead, as if gauging the level of pain. “Do not underestimate the abilities of our young jokesters. They had 2 Death Eaters stunned and bound by the time the others arrived. It seems the Death Eaters were hoping to put the twins under the Imperius Curse, and they failed.”

“But why, Professor?” Hermione asked

Dumbledore helped Harry to his feet, and steadied him. “Lord Voldemort’s treachery can only be guessed at, but I believe that he is seeking someone close to Harry.” He gazed at them over the top of his half-moon glasses. “You must be very careful, all of you. Stay together and under no circumstances are you to go off by yourself.”

Ron, Harry and Hermione looked at each other and then at the Headmaster. “Yes, sir.”

The rest of the afternoon was supposed to be spent in the third floor classroom practicing Occlumency. Ron, Harry, and Hermione had told Ginny what had happened after lunch, and Remus Lupin walked back in shortly after they had started, his eyes twinkling. He told them in a laughing voice about the trip to Diagon Alley, and how Fred and George had taken care of the Death Eaters. Remus shook his head, laughing.

“Those brothers of yours are pretty special, Ron. Had they applied themselves to school in the same way, they would have been brilliant!”

They had just settled in to practice when Professor Dumbledore entered. He had a quiet discussion with Remus before he faced the teenagers. Ginny, Ron and Hermione needed to learn to throw off the Imperius Curse, given the events of the morning. Harry, Ron and Hermione had experienced this before, in Defense Against the Dark Arts class with the “fake” Mad-Eye Moody their fourth year. Harry had also had the curse put on him by Lord Voldemort, in the graveyard the night of his rebirth. Harry had managed to fight the curse both times.

Sending Ron and Ginny outside to practice their Occlumency in the hallway, Hermione stayed in the classroom.

“Harry, I would like you to sit over by the window, go ahead and relax.” Remus directed, as he stood at the other end of the room with Hermione. Dumbledore remained beside the door. Remus took out his wand and Harry heard him mutter “Imperio” quietly. Hermione swayed slightly. Remus leaned over her and whispered something in her ear.

Harry watched the activity with one eye open, a yawn splitting his face. He watched Hermione take several hesitant steps towards him, before she faltered and shook her head hard. Remus spoke again, his tone more forceful. Hermione took several more steps in Harry’s direction, before stopping again. She stopped again, shook her head once, forcefully.

“No…NO! I WON’T!” Hermione came out of the curse and blinked several times.

“Very good, Hermione, very good!” Remus clapped his hands and Professor Dumbledore beamed. “Excellent! Let’s try it again.”

Harry shot Hermione a grin and still smiling, closed his eyes and prepared to practice Occlumency. He smoothed the walls in his mind and filled his mind with happy thoughts of flying his Firebolt. His concentration was so absolute that he neither saw nor heard Hermione throw off the Imperious Curse twice in rapid succession.

“What…” Harry started when someone smack the top of his head. His eyes flew open to find Ron standing over him, shaking his head. Rubbing the top of his head, Harry eyed Ron’s sheepish face and caught sight of Remus’ grin.

“What was that for?” Harry grumbled.

“Sorry, Harry! I was trying really hard!” Ron said in a rush. “Guess I need to work on it again, Remus.” Ron walked back towards Lupin.

Harry blinked and looked around the room. Professor Dumbledore and Hermione had left, and Remus was talking to Ron in a quiet voice. He had no idea how long they had been there, but the shadows in the classroom had lengthened.

“What’s going on, Remus?’ Harry asked.

His guardian looked up and smiled. “Hermione and Ginny did very well throwing off the Imperius Curse, and Ron was just having a go at it now. Relax, Harry, so that Ron can try again.”

Harry settled back and closed his eyes, not sure he liked being the object in this particular test. He heard the murmur of voices before his restless night caught up with him and he fell asleep. Fred and George laughed at him in his dreams, tightly bound and hooded Death Eaters on the floor in front of them. The bound figures twisted and wriggled on the floor, and then they merged into a great writhing snake. Red, slitted eyes flashed at him as the snake slithered closer, trying to find a way in, to penetrate the smooth walls.

The dream evolved into a nightmare, everything darkening as pain exploded in his head. The snake was hissing angrily, accusingly, as it tried to find a way through the smooth walls in his mind. Despite the terrible pain, Harry wanted to laugh; he’d come a long way from the worthless mind that Voldemort had been able to manipulate a few months ago. He fought against the blinding pain and used all his strength to summon the feelings of love he felt for his friends. He thought of Sirius and his parents, and the love he felt for them surged through him.

The snake struggled harder, trying to force its way in, pushing at his defenses. Harry’s head felt as if it was exploding from within, but he fought for what seemed like hours. No, Harry screamed silently at it, you won’t win, you can’t win. I know the Prophecy, and I know that you will not win, he jeered at the snake. His brain on fire, Harry focused all his being on the ones he loved and the knowledge that he was loved, and fell blissfully into the swirling darkness.

Awareness returned slowly, Harry felt the throbbing of his scar first, and then the usual churning of his stomach. He kept his eyes closed and concentrated on breathing slowly and steadily through his nose, willing his stomach to settle. He knew before he opened his eyes that he was not alone, feeling the presence of both his headmaster and godfather.

As if sensing he was awake, the cool fingers laid themselves across the sore and burning scar. “Harry?” Albus Dumbledore’s voice was soft and concerned.

Harry slowly opened his eyes, the world around him softly out of focus. Remus handed him his glasses silently. Putting them one, Harry could see that he was in a bed in the hospital wing. Harry struggled to sit up. “What happened?”

“You will need to tell us, Harry.” Dumbledore said quietly. “No one has ever seen you do something like this.”

Harry could see Ron and Hermione at the end of the bed, Remus was standing to his left as Dumbledore sat beside him, his hand still on Harry’s head. Harry looked up at Remus questioningly.

“Ron was working on throwing off the Imperius Curse when you went rigid and started shaking, like you were having a fit. We weren’t able to wake you up. When Professor Dumbledore returned to the lesson and found us, he decided to bring you here.”

Harry looked around at the pale, concerned faces. “How long have I been…here?”

“It has been almost an hour since you went to sleep, Harry.” Dumbledore looked him in the eye. “Do you remember what happened?”

“Yeah, I was dreaming and the snake appeared, Professor, and it was trying to get in!” Harry was rubbing at his head again. “I was fighting Voldemort, I think.”

“Harry, I have brought the Pensieve down, do you think you are feeling up to using it?”

Harry nodded slowly and watched Remus hand the ancient stone Pensieve to Dumbledore. Hermione reached over and handed Harry his wand. Concentrating on the dream, his head still throbbing, Harry put his wand to his temple, withdrew a silvery, gossamer strand and dropped it into the stone basin. Using his wand tip, he stirred the liquid and it began to swirl. Professor Dumbledore watched the dream intently, and the others crowded in to peer over his shoulder. Harry lay back on the pillow and closed his eyes; he’d already been through the dream once today. It was odd to hear his own voice as he laid there, he thought, his wand hand absently rubbing his aching scar. It was more than the normal throbbing that he had become accustomed to.

“I believe you are right, Harry, I think Lord Voldemort is obsessed with getting to you before the start of the term. You did an excellent job of fighting him off this afternoon; happily, you managed to best him again.” Professor Dumbledore smiled at Harry. “And completely infuriate him, I imagine, by referring to the Prophecy.”

“But why is V...Voldemort so obsessed with trying to get to Harry before the start of term, Professor? Hermione asked.

“Come Sunday, Hermione, this school will be filled with the many fine witches and wizards that teach here, as well as the all the students. Combined with the ancient protection that Hogwarts enjoys, this would be more than even Voldemort and all his Death Eaters could breech. His only option is to strike prior to the start of term or wait until the holidays.” Dumbledore peer back down into the swirling liquid of the Pensieve. “And we know, Voldemort has little patience for waiting.”

“So, the next few days could be a bit dicey, Professor?” Harry asked quietly.

Dumbledore nodded slowly. “Yes, Harry, I think we need to anticipate Voldemort trying something before Sunday.”

“What can we do, Professor?” Ron asked.

“We will need to be aware of our surroundings and vigilant about what is going on around us.” He looked at each of them in turn, peering intently over the top of his glasses. “No strolling to the lake, keep together, and do not investigate anything out of the ordinary on your own.” He glanced up at Remus. “You took care of the other arrangements, Remus?

“Yes, Professor, they will be here for dinner.”

“Thank you, Remus.” Dumbledore lifted the Pensieve towards Harry. “Harry, retrieve your dream, please, and then we will get ready to go down to dinner.”

Harry did as he was told and swung his legs over the side of the bed, as Dumbledore swept out of the room. “Where’s Ginny?” He asked, noticing her absence for the first time.

“She had gone back up to the dormitory before you…started having your dream.” Hermione said, looking anxiously. “Harry, you need to tell Ginny about the Prophecy; she is the only one of us that doesn’t know. It’s really not fair to her, you know.”

Harry blinked; he had quite forgotten that Ginny didn’t know. “Alright, I guess I just forgot.”

The Great Hall twinkled as floating candles softly lit the room, a spectacular cloud-streaked sunset in reds and oranges as a backdrop. The small circular table that they had been eating at for the past few weeks had been replaced by one of the long house tables set in the middle of the room. Harry saw that they were the first ones there and hesitated for a moment before striding over to the middle of the table. Ron took the seat on one side of him and Hermione the other, just as they did for most meals during the school term.

“How’s your head feeling, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“Better, thanks.” Harry told her, as Ginny rushed into the room with Remus trailing her.

“Harry! Are you all right?” Ginny asked anxiously. “Remus just told me you were up in the hospital wing!”

Feeling his cheeks reddening, Harry shrugged. “Just a bad dream, Ginny, I’m fine.”

Ginny stopped short, her expressive face apprehensive. “Is everyone okay, Harry?”

“Yes, Ginny, everyone is fine! Come sit down.” Harry waved her into the seat across from him, Remus sitting down next to Ginny. “It was just one of those snake nightmares, Ginny. You know, just makes my head feel like it is going to explode!”

Just then, a group of people walked into the Great Hall, lead by Professor Dumbledore. Harry was surprised but pleased to see members of the Order of the Phoenix, including Bill Weasley, Alastor Moody, Tonks, and Kingsley Shacklebolt. As they exchanged greetings, the teachers began to filter in, McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, and Snape, with Madam Pomfrey. Everyone took a seat, from the center outward, with Dumbledore on Ginny’s other side and placing Snape at the far end of the table, which made Harry happy. Hagrid brought up the rear and settled at the opposite end of the table.

Albus Dumbledore rose and spread his arms. “Welcome, welcome. I am so pleased to see guests around our table.” Sitting down, he gestured with his wand and food appeared on the table. The murmur of quiet conversation, punctuated with laughter was the only sound after everyone started eating.

Harry found that he had little appetite; his forehead still prickling distracted him. He pushed potatoes around on his plate, his thoughts on how Voldemort might be planning to attack. He knew that whatever happened, it would come swiftly, and the Death Eaters would not hesitate to use any of the Forbidden curses. Harry found his eyes moving from face to face of those around him, knowing that any one of them could be hurt or killed in the defense of him. He knew that Sirius had been right, and that this war, like the first one, would have casualties, but his heart contracted at the thought.

“Harry.” Hermione leaned in close. “You need to eat something, before Remus holds you down, and I force feed you!”

Harry looked across at his godfather suddenly, and took in the stern expression on his face. An apologetic smile flitted across Harry’s lips, and he began to eat the well-mixed potatoes. Trying to eat enough to satisfy Remus’ watchful eye, Harry kept his head down and stared unseeingly at the food on his plate. He was torn by the feeling that he was the cause of all the problems they were preparing for, and the oppressive Prophecy that said he was the only one who could do anything about the really big problem that they were facing: Voldemort. He sighed, no wonder his head hurt most of the time!

“Harry.” Albus Dumbledore’s soft voice brought his head up. The bright blue eyes were concerned. “You are rather quiet, does your head still ache?”

Harry tried to smile but failed dismally. “No, not anymore than usual, Professor, it’s just…”

“Things weighing a little heavy tonight, Harry?” Remus said softly, leaning across the table.

“Yeah.” Said Harry, grateful for Remus’ perception. “I don’t how I am supposed to feel, part of me wants to run and hide, but another part of me wants to just get on with it. But getting on with it means that other people are going to hurt, and…killed.”

Understanding flooded into Dumbledore’s eyes, and a look passed between him and Remus Lupin. “The best we can do, Harry, is be prepared for whatever comes, and do our best when it occurs. You are not the cause of this conflict, Harry, but the one who has been destined to rescue us from it. In most of your encounters with Voldemort in the past, you have been isolated and alone, but in the future, you will have us to help you.”

Harry looked down at his plate again, a wave of sadness rolling over him. Sirius had given his life to save Harry and his friends.

“Harry, look at me.” Remus’ quiet voice commanded, and he looked up to meet the expressive gray eyes, which flashed at him now. “I neither plan to die in this conflict, nor plan to let you die, or anyone else. We all know what is at stake here, though, and have made to choice to be here. You have not. Your path was chosen for you before you were born, and you alone have had no choice in the matter. Harry, you must not feel that you are putting me or Ron or Hermione or anyone else in jeopardy, we have made the decision to be right here, right now. Moreover, we all realize that, in you, we have the means of conquering the most evil wizard of our age. You have proven yourself time after time, with the Sorcerer’s Stone, in the Chamber of Secrets, with the Dementors by the lake, the Department of Mysteries, and alone in that graveyard that night last June. You have stood tall and proud, loyal and true to the end, and you have prevailed over everything that Voldemort has thrown at you! I just want you to know that I am damn proud to be here, with you, Harry.”

The room had gone silent, and as Harry gave his godfather a grateful smile, Dumbledore stood and began to clap. Harry felt his cheeks redden as everyone around him stood; he tried to wave everyone down, but gave up as Ron began to pound him good-naturedly on the back. As the noise abated and people sat down again, Dumbledore remained standing.

“Good evening. Everyone here tonight is a member of the Order of the Phoenix and therefore very aware of what has transpired in the recent weeks.” He looked up and down the table, stopping to address the four Heads of Houses. “I believe that Voldemort will make an attempt to get at Harry between now and the start of term. In order to ensure his safety, and ultimately, the safety of all the students at Hogwarts, we have added protections to the castle that should prevent any breech of its walls. The grounds are less secure, of course, and the Forbidden Forest is unprotected. With this in mind, I would ask that Professor Sprout not attend the greenhouses alone, nor anyone go beyond the walls of the castle alone.”

Dumbledore’s eyes swept the table again, before pinning Harry with a gaze. ”Harry has assured me that he will not go off on his own, and will stay inside the castle. Bill Weasley and Tonks will be staying in the Gryffindor dormitories, and the young people will continue with their lessons. Thank you all for coming.”

Dumbledore sat down and gave Harry a small smile. Harry smiled back, feeling better. Their eyes met and Harry was sure that his Headmaster could see clear down to the depths of his soul.

“Come on, Harry, let’s go up to the Common room.” Hermione said, standing.

Ron, Ginny, and Harry followed her from the room after exchanging goodnights with the others present. A fire crackled merrily in the fireplace when they arrived, and the four settled into their favorite chairs in front of it. They sat in silence for several long minutes, before Harry cleared his throat.

“Ginny, I have to apologize to you.” He started hesitantly. Ginny looked at him questioningly, but Harry held up his hand. “I had completely forgotten that you did not know about the Prophecy.”

Ginny looked him. “The Prophecy smashed that night in the Department of Mysteries, Harry.”

“Yes, but it was just one of the records, Dumbledore had another.” Harry told her. Looking at Ron and Hermione for support, he relayed the Prophecy, word for word, to Ginny, whose face grew paler as his spoke. “So, you see, everything has been preordained.”

“Blood hell, Harry.” Ginny breathed. “That’s really depressing!”

Harry stared at her for a moment and burst out laughing. “Yeah, you got that right!”

Everyone laughed and the conversation dissolved to a more lighthearted level. By unspoken agreement, no one mentioned the anticipated attack. Ron got out the Wizard Chess board and challenged Harry to a game. Harry, chatting happily with the girls, showed off by moving his pieces around the board with a wave of his fingers. Ron tried to do the same but merely managed to knock a couple pawns over.

Bill and Tonks came in a while later, carrying an armful of butterbeers and sweets. A second chessboard appeared and another game started. Tonks squealed when she caught Harry’s unique way of moving pieces and both she and Bill tried to do the same. At some point, Remus and Kingsley joined them, and another round of chess started. Ron was so distracted by Harry making things fly around the room and zoom toward his head, that he almost let Harry win.

“All right you lot, enough!” Remus laughed just before midnight. “Time for bed, come on.”

“You sound just like mum,” Bill grumbled at him good-naturedly. “You’d think I was still sixteen!”

They went up to the dorms after exchanging goodnights, and scrambled into bed. Harry felt worn out, but his mind was still dwelling on the events of that afternoon. As he lay there, deliberately clearing his mind, he had a sudden memory of what his life was like just over 5 years ago, in his cupboard under the stairs. Rolling over, Harry wondered idly what would have happened if Hagrid had failed to find him that July 31st when he turned 11; wondered what his life would be like today if he had not come to Hogwarts. Would Voldemort have gotten the Sorcerer’s Stone? Would the 16-year-old Tom Riddle have killed Ginny in the Chamber? Would he have ever met Sirius? He certainly would not have known anything about his parents, and Voldemort could have shown up one day anyway, and Harry would have been totally defenseless.

Even with the painful grief he carried in his heart, Harry knew that he could never regret his life, or the burden he had been given to carry. Determinedly, he cleared his mind and sealed the walls into place, drifting off.

The stone pit was as cold as ever, the ancient archway with its tattered black veil fluttering in a nonexistent breeze, and a barely audible whisper of voices.

“Sirius?”

“Hello Harry.” Sirius’ Black’s husky voice was warm with pleasure. “How are you doing?

“I don’t know, Sirius, it has been a strange day.” Harry ran through what had happened the night before in Dumbledore’s office and on Diagon Alley this morning. He finished with the events of the afternoon. “So, it looks like Voldemort is going to give one last go at getting to me before the term starts. Half the Order is here tonight, and I am sure there are more on guard duty outside.”

“But that is not what is really bothering you, Harry, is it?” Asked Sirius in a gentle voice.

“No, guess I can’t help feeling like it is my fault everyone is in danger. Again.”

“I suppose you have already gotten the pretty speech from Remus?”

Harry smiled in spite of himself. “Yes, and my brain recognizes that everything he says is true, but my heart hurts, Sirius! Everyone who has ever loved me has been killed, or could be killed. Sometimes, I just wonder if I should have ever come to Hogwarts.”

A barking laugh sounded from Sirius. “Harry, there is no way you could NOT have come to Hogwarts. Dumbledore knew that you were the only hope for the entire wizarding world, he would have found a way.” Sirius paused, and in a quieter voice continued. “When I was sent to Azkaban, and finally understood that Crouch was not going to give me a trial, I was devastated. I spent a lot of time over the next 11 years, Harry, imagining what my, and your, life would have been like if I had not been so hell bent on avenging your parents’ deaths. If I had only gone with Hagrid when I met him at the house in Godric’s Hollow, having just dug you out of the debris, I could have told Dumbledore about Wormtail. I used to get lost in fantasies of what we could have been doing when you were 3, or 5, or 10. It was part of what kept me alive in that hole, Harry, but no matter how much I wanted it, I could not change what had happened. And neither can you.”

The longing in Sirius’ voice touched Harry deeply. “Yeah, I’ve had those fantasies, too. I know you are right, Sirius. It’s just that sometimes everything just feels like a heavy weight sitting on my chest.”

“Keep it in your mind that this is your job, Harry, to get rid of Voldemort. Just like training to be an Auror, you need to train to and learn everything you can that will help you to kill Voldemort. Your magical abilities will astound you when you have learned to use them to their fullest, and you will find that you have exceptional powers. Besides that, Harry,” Sirius’ voice held a smile. “You are my godson, so you can not be less than bloody brilliant!”

Harry laughed, some of the weight lifting off his chest, as he drifted off into sleep.

The day dawned overcast, and the clouds seemed undecided as to whether they wanted to rain or not. Harry had slept soundly, and didn’t wake up until Remus came up to check on him after breakfast. He stretched and rolled over, grinning up at his godfather.

“Well, you look much better this morning, Harry.” Remus handed him the glasses from the bedside table.

“Yeah, I feel better too.” Harry threw the covers back. “And had a talk with Sirius.” He told Remus everything that Sirius had said to him, as he got dressed, including the part about Remus’ speech, which made the older man laugh.

“Glad to see that Padfoot agrees with me. Truly, Harry, do you feel better?”

Harry looked up from putting on his socks, a solemn look on his face. “Yes, I do today, but it is like this ball in my chest that never really goes away, Remus. Some days it just feels heavier than others.”

“And none of it is fair, either, Harry, but we have to make the best of what is handed to us.” Remus looked down for a moment. “I fantasized as a kid about what it would be like to be normal, and did the ‘why me’s too, after I was bitten. Finally, years later, I had friends that helped me accept who I was and what I was.”

He glanced up at Harry suddenly, his expression fierce. “I meant what I said last night, Harry, you are all I have left, and I will do everything in my power to keep you and me from getting killed. I promise you that!”

It was Harry’s turn to reach out a hand to his godfather, realizing that he wasn’t the only one carrying burdens. By unspoken agreement, no more was said, and they went downstairs in search of toast. It did not surprise Harry when Professor Dumbledore joined them. Harry immediately told him what Sirius had said to him.

“Sirius is correct, you know.” Dumbledore looked at him over his half-moon glasses, a twinkle in his eye. “I would have found you on your 11th birthday, Harry, as you were coming to Hogwarts. It might have been fun to turn your Uncle Vernon into a horned toad at that!”

Harry sputtered and choked on his toast as a sudden picture of his uncle as a toad filled his mind. Remus patted him on the back with a grin. Dumbledore went on to tell Harry that he would see him in the 3rd floor classroom after lunch for a lesson, before sweeping from the room.

The Entry Hall became their classroom that morning, as the room they had been using was not large enough for the additional people that Harry had begun to think of as their personal guard. Tonks, Bill, and Kingsley partnered up with Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, while Remus and Harry practiced off to one side. They were learning stronger spells and charms now, like Stunning and Blasting charms, and had quickly learned that the shielding charms they had already learned were the only painless way to deflect these new spells.

At Remus’ direction, Harry began to try some of the shielding charms without his wand. Remembering Dumbledore’s insistence that he practice in secret, Harry looked at Remus questioningly, but his godfather waved him on. They worked hard all morning, learning quickly with so many new helpers, and the grown-ups were impressed with the progress they had made over the last few weeks.

“Blimey, Kingsley, let’s sign this lot up now for Auror training! They are almost as good as we are!” Tonks yelped as a stunner from Ginny managed to get through her shield.

Lunch was a lively affair, with everyone who joined the group in good spirits. It was almost like being back at Grimmauld Place, as other members of the Order where seen coming and going, some apparently just coming off duty and others going out to replace them. Alastor Moody seemed to be coordinating the shifts and came and went through the Great Hall a number of times.

After lunch, Harry went up to the 3rd floor classroom and practiced his Occlumency while waiting for the Headmaster. His happy, peaceful thoughts made him feel good, and he worked at remembering the trill of Phoenix song that always seemed to ease the pain Voldemort caused in his head. He didn’t realize that the thought of Fawkes made him smile, until he heard Dumbledore’s voice.

“Very good, Harry!”

Harry opened his eyes, the smile still curving his lips, to find Fawkes perched on the bench next to him. His smiled widened. “Hello, Fawkes. Hello, Professor.”

“Did you mean to call Fawkes to you, Harry?” Dumbledore asked, watching him intently, as Harry stroked the scarlet and gold bird’s head.

“No, I was just thinking of his singing, because it always seems to ease the pain in my head, when I can remember it.”

“Ah.” Dumbledore nodded his head, watching as Fawkes laid his head on Harry’s wrist, covering the watch on his arm.

The watch grew warm on Harry’s arm and he looked up at Dumbledore questioningly.

Fawkes lifted his head, sang Harry a few notes of his song, before disappearing in a flash of flame, leaving Harry feeling warm inside and out.

“Amazing.” Dumbledore muttered. “Simply amazing.”

“What?” Harry asked, wondering what had just happened.

“Fawkes has taken a liking to you, Harry, as he doesn’t normally let anyone else pet him but me, and I’ve never seen him come when anyone else has called him. And if I am not mistaken, you now have only to press on your watch and you will hear the Phoenix song.” The Headmaster looked at him, a curious look on his face. “Can I ask you, Harry, what happens when you hear the Phoenix song?”

Harry smiled. “It started when Fawkes came into the Chamber of Secrets my second year, Professor, just hearing his song made me feel stronger and gave me the courage to fight the basilisk. In the graveyard, when the wands connected, it was the sound I heard that gave me the strength to hold on. When I came back afterwards, after Cedric died, Fawkes sat on my knee in your office, he sang to me, and his song made me feel like I could go on and I had the strength to tell you what had happened. Whenever Fawkes sings to me, he seems to give me strength that I would not have otherwise.” He glanced at Dumbledore, whose face was wreathed in a huge smile.

Nodding, Albus Dumbledore sat down beside Harry on the bench. From inside his robes, he pulled out a couple of Chocolate frogs and handed one to Harry. Opening his, Harry was delighted to see that he had gotten a Dumbledore card, which made his professor chuckle.

“How is your head this afternoon, Harry?”

Harry paused for a second. “Alright, I guess, doesn’t hurt any more than is usual these days.” He looked sideways at Dumbledore. “Professor?”

“Yes, Harry?” Dumbledore was looking back at him.

“Tonks and Bill and everyone are staying with us until Sunday?”

“Yes, they will be staying inside with you and the others. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley will be here this afternoon as well as others, who will be helping patrol the perimeter of the school. Oh, and Harry, might Alastor Moody borrow that magnificent map of yours?”

“Of course, sir, it’s up in my trunk.” Harry stood to go get it, and Dumbledore waved him back.

“It will wait for us to be done here, Harry.” Dumbledore met Harry’s eyes over his half-moon glasses. “As you have already guessed, there are other members of the Order on guard duty outside Hogwarts, and they will be in and out of the castle from time to time. Those who are on inside duty have been chosen specifically, Harry, and you can trust them as you trust Remus or me. All right?”

“Yes, sir, and thank you, I wasn’t sure.” Harry grinned at him. “I got Remus this morning with a stunner without my wand! But it wasn’t very strong, I mean he’s okay and everything!”

Albus Dumbledore stood, chuckling, and waved Harry into position for their Occlumency lesson. Harry sealed the smooth walls in his mind and faced his teacher.

“Legilimens.”

Harry withstood the gentle brushing against the walls and as the brushing became more insistent, firmed up the barriers he had erected in his mind and filled his thoughts with happy images of his friends. He concentrated on them, as the brushing grew steadily stronger. Suddenly, Harry’s scar gave a searing throb.

“Ouch!” Said both Harry and Dumbledore in unison. Harry looked at Dumbledore in surprise. “You could feel that?” Harry asked, rubbing at his forehead.

“Yes.” Dumbledore said, rubbing his own forehead. “Was it just the pain, Harry, or something more?”

“No, just the pain right now.” Harry said, as his scar throbbed again.

“Interesting, Harry, I didn’t know it felt like that.” Dumbledore continued to watch him intently.

“It does this a lot, Professor, just prickles like that.” Harry told him, rubbing his scar absently with the ball of his hand.

Dumbledore nodded his head. “You are doing very well, Harry, with your Occlumency so I think we will move on. Come stand over here.”

Harry moved to stand beside Dumbledore and listened as he explained what he wanted Harry to do. “Now, close your eyes, and envision a wall surrounding you, Harry, a tall, transparent wall that protects you. Concentrate, Harry.”

Harry closed his eyes, and visualized a clear wall surrounding them, protecting them. He opened his eyes to see Remus Lupin step into the room and look at the simmering wall that surrounded him and Dumbledore. All his concentration was on keeping the wall up.

“Reducto!” Remus had his wand out and waved it at Harry’s wall. The wall stayed firm, and as Harry and Dumbledore watched, Remus flicked his wrist and sent a Blasting Curse at the barrier. It rebounded on him, and Remus dived to the side to get out of the way.

“All right, Harry, very good indeed! Well done.” Dumbledore patted his shoulder, as the wall dissolved.

Remus brushed himself off as he smiled at Harry. “Alright, Harry?”

Harry nodded. “Had a twinge or two, but I’m fine.”

Remus took over and they spent the next hour working on Legilimency. By dinnertime, Harry’s head was throbbing and his scar prickling almost continuously. Harry ran up to Gryffindor Tower and retrieved the Marauder’s Map from his trunk. He took it down to the Great Hall where he silently passed it to Alastor Moody.

Harry had just taken his seat between Ron and Hermione and was exchanging greetings with everyone already seated for dinner, when there was a commotion at the door. As everyone looked up, Arthur and Molly Weasley walked into the Hall. There was a squeal as Ginny caught sight of her parents and ran to the door. It was a full 10 minutes before everyone had been hugged and greeted, and everyone settled down for dinner.

Spirits were high and dinner ran long, like a gathering of old friends who hadn’t seen each other in a long while. Laughter rang through the Great Hall, and people moved up and down the table chatting. The sunset through the enchanted ceiling colored the clouds and faded into darkness. Butterbeers appeared on the table along with many desserts, and Harry was content to listen to the conversation swirling around him. His scar had continued to prickle enough to make his eyes water, and his head still ached. He had started to have a feeling of foreboding, and had been disappointed when Dumbledore had not shown up for dinner. Snape was also absent.

“Harry?” Remus appeared at his elbow, and Harry laughed, no longer surprised by Remus’ perception. “Shall we go on upstairs?”

Harry stood and followed his godfather from the room. It was strange how right it felt to Harry, when he thought of both Sirius and Remus as his godfathers. It was almost as if they were two halves of one whole. A particularly nasty throb caused Harry to stumble on the marble staircase, and Remus grabbed his arm.

“Any idea why your scar is hurting?” Remus asked as they continued up, his hand steadying him.

“I don’t know, but I’m getting that feeling again, like the other day.” Harry said. He was starting to feel shaky and feverish.

They made their way up to Gryffindor Tower and through the empty common room with its merrily blazing fire. Harry headed on up to the dormitory, knowing it was still early, but not feeling like company.

“I think maybe I should lie down for a while, Remus, and it might go away.” Harry said as he climbed up on to his four-poster.

Lupin gave him a look that told Harry he wasn’t fooled and watched Harry take off his robes and shoes as he crawled under the covers. Remus grabbed his wand as it made to roll of the bedside table and took Harry’s glasses from him.

“Alright, Harry, but I think I’ll sit with you awhile.”

Harry heard him as if from a long distance, his eyes closed and he slipped into velvety darkness. He was sailing over the Quidditch field on his Firebolt, circling the field and weaving between the goal posts. The sun was warm and bright as he flew, the wind whipping through his hair. He swooped out past the stands, soaring out over the grounds.

The Whomping Willow came into view and the dream began to change. The sky darkened, black clouds billowing in, as Harry flew through the branches of the tree. He saw a rat running underneath him, dodging limps pounding the ground around him. The rat became a man with a silver hand, pushing on the knot at the base of the willow, but the tree refused to let him in, and he changed back into a rat, running away as the tree whipped itself at him.

The sky was black as night with rolling clouds and red lightening flashed. Harry was standing over a cowering little man with a silver hand, in a dimly lit room, his red eyes flashing.

“Master, I tried! They have bewitched the tree, it would not let me in!”

The familiar high, cold voice that came out of Harry’s mouth shook with rage, triggering a searing pain in his head. “You have failed me yet again, Wormtail! You told me that this was a sure way into the castle, yet neither passage is accessible! I have come all this way for nothing! Crucio!”

The screams rang through Harry’s head, made it hurt to the point of bursting. He lifted the Curse. “Well, Wormtail, how will you redeem yourself this time?”

“Master, we will lure him out, as you did before. We will take one of his friends and he will not be able to resist coming to rescue them!” Wormtail still lay in a heap at his master’s feet.

“Perhaps, Wormtail, perhaps. Crucio!”

Cold laughter swirled in Harry’s head as the small man with a rat-like face twitched on the ground at his feet. The top of his head felt as if it were splitting.

“Harry!”

A voice called to him from far away; Harry tried to push it away, not wanting anyone else to get hurt. His scar throbbed horribly, and he felt icy cold. Strong arms surrounded him, held him tightly.

“Harry! Wake up, Harry!”

Harry struggled through the waves of pain, his stomach churning, his scar on fire. He felt a hand at his wrist, pressing, and then the beautiful sound of Phoenix song trilled in his head. The pain ebbed to a more tolerable level, and he opened his eyes slowly. Remus sat on the bed with him, resting Harry against his chest, supporting him as he rolled to vomit over the side. Pulling the bedcovers back up, Remus continued to hold on to him as Harry shook in the aftermath of the dream.

Harry closed his eyes and gripped his godfather’s arms, willing the churning in his stomach to stop. Cool fingers rested against his burning scar, and the calming effect of the Headmaster flooded through him. Harry didn’t know how long they sat there, Remus’ comforting in his closeness, and Dumbledore soothing with his touch.

Harry opened his eyes, and looked up. “Professor, where is Snape?”

Dumbledore handed Harry his glasses from the table. “Professor Snape is out, Harry. Why?”

Harry rested his head back against Remus for a moment as he looked at Dumbledore. “I think Voldemort is going to use him to lure me out, as a test of his loyalty.” He reached a hand out and grasped Dumbledore’s wrist. “Voldemort is here, close by somewhere.”

Dumbledore placed his hand over Harry’s for a moment, and sat beside them on the bed.

“Tell me about your dream, Harry, start at the beginning.”

Harry took a deep breath, and began to talk. He told them about flying and watching Wormtail at the Whomping Willow, how Voldemort had used the Cruciatus Curse on him. Voldemort knew about the passageways from the Shrieking Shack and Honeydukes, but Wormtail had not been able to get through them due to the extra protections in place. He explained that Wormtail wanted to lure Harry out again like they had done in June.

“Wormtail reminded Voldemort how much I like to play the hero.” Harry spat out, the words filling him with disgust. “And that they have Snape who hates me and would leap at the chance to be the one to turn me over to the Dark Lord!”

Harry met Dumbledore’s eyes. “He is going to test Professor Snape’s loyalty, Professor, by telling him to lure me outside, and if he fails, Voldemort will kill him.”

Dumbledore stroked a hand down his beard and appeared to be deep in thought. Harry watched him, the white-hot pain in his scar having subsided to a more manageable level. He continued to lean against Remus, drawing strength from the contact. He could not remember anyone ever just holding him like this, and he was amazed at how reassuring it was.

“Do you feel well enough to come up to my office, Harry?” Dumbledore asked.

Harry sat up straight with Remus’ help and nodded. In silence, Remus helped him dress, and they followed Dumbledore from the room. Harry knew he could not have slept for long, as the common room remained empty. He could hear the echo of voices, and realized that everyone was still in the Great Hall. Remus stayed close to Harry, who was still feeling shaky from the dream, and stumbled climbing out of the portrait hole. His scar still twinged painfully as they headed down the dimly lit hallway, and Harry could not help but wonder whether this would truly be a test of Snape’s allegiance.

Dumbledore’s desk was awash in golden candlelight. With a wave of his hand, Dumbledore lit other candles around the room until it glowed. Remus steered Harry into the tall chair behind the desk, and Dumbledore went directly to the black cabinet near Fawkes’ perch. The Phoenix watched the activity with interest, blinking serenely at them.

Harry watched as Dumbledore set the Pensieve down in front of him. He raised his wand to his temple, played back the dream he had just had in his mind, and drew it out as a silvery gossamer strand, which fell with a ‘plop’ into the swirling substance of the Pensieve. Harry sat back, stirring the liquid with the tip of his wand, as Dumbledore and Remus watched.

Harry closed his eyes, rubbing his scar with the knuckles of his left hand, trying to ease the prickling. If Voldemort were truly nearby, then Harry supposed he would just have to learn to live with the pain. Voldemort in Hogsmeade was a very scary prospect, indeed.

“Harry.” Dumbledore spoke softly.

Harry dropped his hand and opened his eyes; Dumbledore was standing beside the desk, still staring into the Pensieve. “Yes, Professor?”

“I am sure that you were seeing what happened this evening, and Lord Voldemort is indeed somewhere near Hogsmeade.” Dumbledore glanced at him over his half-moon glasses. “And your scar is going to continue to hurt, I’m afraid.”

Harry nodded ruefully. “And to think I complained last year that I felt like an aerial for Voldemort’s moods. That was nothing compared to this.” His scar was throbbing steadily. Looking across the desk, he watched as Remus folded himself into one of two high backed armchairs. Their eyes met, and Harry knew that Lupin was thinking the same thing he was.

“Professor?” His godfather started.

“What are we going to do with this information?” Dumbledore finished for him, an amused twinkle in his eye. “You are both wondering no doubt, as to how we should proceed. Harry, retrieve your memory, please.” Dumbledore steadied the Pensieve for Harry as he placed the gossamer strand back to his temple.

Watching the Headmaster put the stone basin back into the black cabinet, Harry glanced up to see that Fawkes was still watching him. Harry grinned at the Phoenix and thought the bird winked at him in return. As Dumbledore straightened from the cabinet, Harry got out of the chair and moved to sit in the armchair beside Lupin.

Albus Dumbledore sat down at his desk, folded his hands in front of him, and surveyed them both over the top of his glasses. “I have every confidence that Severus will report to me the moment he returns.” He met Harry’s eyes, the clear blue boring in to the brilliant green. “As I have said before, I trust Professor Snape, Harry, and we will find a way to deal with the situation that protects his work for the Order, and your safety.”

Harry nodded. “I know, Professor, and will abide by your decision.” He hesitated, looking over at Remus who nodded in agreement. “I will do anything you need me to.” Harry looked back across the desk, to find Dumbledore smiling at him. His head exploded in pain, his scar searing white-hot.

Harry didn’t know whether he was sitting or falling. The pain was so severe he thought his head might split open along his scar. He was angry, working up to a rage, and then happy, jubilant, he was going to get what he wanted. He was going to finally get what he wanted for so long.

The trill of Phoenix song filled Harry’s mind, easing the blinding pain, until he realized he was lying on the floor, shaky and chilled. He felt a warm presence near his face, and forced his eyes open. Fawkes stood near his chin, his plumage a blurred golden scarlet, and Harry realized that he had lost his glasses when he fell. Remus knelt beside him, a hand under the side of his face that lay on the carpet. Fawkes spread his wings, the tips of his feathers brushing Harry’s face, and flew back up to his perch. Harry struggled to sit up with his godfather’s help, taking his glasses from Remus, some of the chill at least gone. Dumbledore had come around his desk, and moved toward him.

“He was angry, really angry at Snape because Snape didn’t want to take a chance of luring me out under your nose, Professor. Voldemort threatened to have Death Eaters storm the castle and taunted Snape about whom he should be most afraid of, you or Voldemort. Snape told him that he would deliver me Saturday morning at dawn.” Harry turned his pale face up to Dumbledore and grasped the hand he extended. “Snape said some really foul things about me to Voldemort.” Harry took a deep breath, attempting to stop the rage that threatened to burst through the barriers he had erected. “He told Voldemort that I was too arrogant to think that anyone could best me, and that I could not resist the temptation of going in to the Forbidden Forest, no matter what rules I broke, or who I might put in jeopardy.” Harry spat the words out.

Remus helped Harry back into the chair, and stood beside him, hand on Harry’s shoulder. Albus Dumbledore laid his long, cool fingers across Harry’s scar, calm instantly spreading from the point of contact.

“Harry.” Dumbledore said softly over his head, and Harry had the impression that his clear blue eyes were locked with the gray eyes of his godfather. Lupin’s hand tightened on his shoulder as if confirming it. “I know that your Occlumency classes with Professor Snape were brutal, and that he has been absolutely filthy to you since you arrived at Hogwarts, but Severus Snape would never do anything that would put you in harm’s way or put your life in danger.” Dumbledore’s voice trailed off. Harry could feel those blue eyes looking down on him, and felt the Headmaster move his hand from his forehead to rest it for a moment on the top of Harry’s head in an unexpected gesture of affection.

Harry opened his eyes when he felt Dumbledore move, and looked up at Remus, who smiled at him faintly, and whose expressive eyes held reassurance. Harry looked back at Dumbledore as he resettled himself behind his desk. It seemed to Harry that Dumbledore appeared tired tonight, the lines that framed his face deeper in the candlelight, his blue eyes shadowed.

“I know, Professor, that you would never allow that to happen, and you know that I trust you.” Harry assured him quietly, blinking against the persistent prickling of his scar. “I will do what ever you need me to do, even go into the Forbidden Forest at dawn on Saturday, with Professor Snape.”

“No!” Remus interjected, his hand tightening on Harry’s shoulder. “There has to be another way!”

“Remus, calm down,” Dumbledore said soothingly. “I assure you that we will not be rushing into any plan, and both of you will be a part of any decision that is made.”

“I will not allow Harry to be placed in that kind of danger. The Forbidden Forest is much too vulnerable to attack.” Remus spoke in a mild voice, but Harry could hear the steel in it.

“Nor will I allow it, Remus, but it does sound like Harry will have to take some active roll in the process, as Lord Voldemort would readily be able to spot an imposter.” Dumbledore assured them, a hand stroking his silver beard.

“And Polyjuice potion takes a month to brew.” Harry interjected. Two pairs of eyes swung toward him and pinned him to the seat. “What?” Harry looked between the Headmaster and his godfather, feeling puzzled.

“How do you know how long it takes to a Polyjuice Potion to brew, Harry?” Remus asked, with a questioning look.

Harry looked up, feeling his cheeks go pink, and met the twinkling blue eyes. “Um, we, uh, Hermione, Ron and I, brewed some in our second year, Remus. Um, Professor, what about using a shielding charm to protect me?” Harry said hurriedly, saying the first thing that came to mind.

“I look forward to hearing the Polyjuice story, Harry.” Remus muttered softly, his voice sounding almost proud.

Dumbledore’s eyes continued to hold Harry’s, mirth gleaming in their depths.

“I am not sure a shielding charm would afford much protection, Harry.”

There was a tap on the office door, and it swung open before Professor Dumbledore could speak. Severus Snape stepped quickly into the room in a swish of billowing black cloak, as if he feared someone was following him. Pushing the door closed swiftly, Snape spoke without glancing around the room.

“Headmaster.”

Harry felt a swell of loathing and hate well up inside him at the sight of the Potions Master. His head swung toward Snape and their eyes clashed, gleaming dark to brilliant green. Harry made no effort to conceal the feelings that burned in him, and he could feel Remus tense beside him.

“Severus, come in.” Dumbledore motioned towards Snape, who drug his dark eyes from Harry,

“Forgive me, Headmaster, I thought you would be alone.” Snape said stiffly. “I will return at a more convenient time.”

“No, Severus, please come in.” Dumbledore gazed steadily at the Potions Master over the top of his half-moon spectacles. “I have been waiting for you.”

Snape crossed to the desk, his black cloak swirling around him, ignoring Harry and Lupin. He moved to the side of the desk, and bent towards Dumbledore. “It is quite urgent that I speak to you, Headmaster,” he hissed in a low voice.

Harry opened his mouth with an angry retort, and snapped it closed again as Dumbledore gave him a slight shake of his head. The lightening bolt scar on his forehead pulsed with a fresh wave of pain. He rubbed it absently with the tips of his fingers.

“Does this urgent matter have to do with Harry, Severus?” Dumbledore returned his gaze to Snape.

Snape hesitated for a heartbeat, his eyes boring into Dumbledore’s, who looked back at him serenely. “Yes, Headmaster.”

Albus Dumbledore maintained the eye contact, saying softly. “Then, please sit down, Severus, and tell us your urgent news.”

Snape continued to stand, still at the side of the desk, turned towards Dumbledore. In a low, sullen voice, Snape relayed the information of Wormtail’s attempt to gain entry to the Shrieking Shack passageway and the Whomping Willow. Not looking anywhere but at Dumbledore, he continued to tell the Headmaster about the scene Harry had witnessed in his dream.

Harry sat listening, irritated at being ignored by Snape, but more irritated at the fact that Snape had come directly to Dumbledore with the news of his meeting with Voldemort, just as predicted. He leaned closer, Remus’ hand on his shoulder more a restraint now. Harry wanted to hear, wanted to make sure that Snape repeated all the details that he had witnessed.

Remus leaned down. “Relax, Harry, let Dumbledore handle it, alright?” he murmured in Harry’s ear, his voice soft with warning. “Follow Dumbledore’s lead.”

Harry nodded his head once, his eyes intently on the sallow faced man whose face was half hidden behind a greasy curtain of black hair. His scar throbbed again with a fresh wave of pain. Concentrating on Snape’s hooked nose where it stuck out for the curtain of hair, Harry focused and strained to hear. Snape was relating the discussion with Voldemort on the best way to lure Harry from the castle, glossing over the dreadful things that he had said about Harry.

‘Liar’ Harry thought fiercely, as his scar seared with white-hot pain. He clapped both hands to his forehead, but watched through the heels of his hands as Snape straightened suddenly and swung around to stare at him.

“What did you say, Potter?” Snape snarled at him.

Harry rubbed his forehead wearily, trying to ease the fresh wave of sharp pain. “What? I didn’t say anything!” He glanced up at Remus for reassurance. Remus shook his head slightly.

“You were saying, Severus?” Albus Dumbledore looked intently at Harry, watching.

“The Dark Lord will not rest until he has Potter, although he did not tell me why. He has threatened to send Death Eaters into Hogwarts if I fail to produce him. I told him that is would not be easy to get Potter out of the castle while you are here, Headmaster, but that I would try.” Snape glanced at Harry, a touch of apprehension in his gaze. “I told the Dark Lord that I would persuade Potter to accompany me outside Saturday morning.”

‘Filthy liar!’ Anger surged through Harry as he thought the words, his scar searing again.

“What!” Snape advanced on Harry, rage adding color to his face.

Remus stepped in front of Harry protectively, his meaning clear. “Severus, Harry did not say anything.”

“He called me a filthy liar.” Snape snarled the end of his nose less than inch from Lupin’s.

“Severus! Sit down!” Albus Dumbledore’s voice held an unyielding tone, and when Harry looked around Snape, he saw that the blue eyes were flashing dangerously, as the Headmaster stood. Dumbledore conjured another cozy armchair to the side of his desk.

After shooting a look of pure loathing at Harry, Snape reluctantly sat down in the chair Dumbledore indicated. The Headmaster towered over him for a moment, and Harry thought he saw Snape flinch slightly, as Dumbledore swept around him.

Harry closed his eyes again, as white-hot pain shot through his scar like a jolt of electricity. Surprise flooded through him along with the soothing effect of the cool, long fingers that Dumbledore laid across his throbbing forehead.

“Harry.” Dumbledore’s soft voice held a hint of amusement.

“I thought it, Professor.” Harry muttered quietly. “I guess my thoughts aren’t even safe now.”

“I know, Harry, but I believe your thoughts are being amplified by the pain in your scar,” Dumbledore said in a soft voice.

Harry opened his eyes a slit, and saw Snape fuming in the chair beside the desk, his normally pallid face in high color.

“Uh oh.” Harry breathed. “Guess I’m in trouble then.” He heard Remus chuckle softly beside him. “I just wish Voldemort would go to bed or something, and stop making my scar hurt!”

Dumbledore walked back to his desk and sat down. He gazed at Snape over his steepled fingers. “Continue your report, please, Severus.”

“As I was saying, I am to deliver Potter to the Dark Lord at dawn on Saturday morning.” Snape shot Harry a malevolent look.

“The Forbidden Forest is not a choice I like for a delivery point, Severus.” Dumbledore watched Snape closely as he made the statement.

Harry felt a grim satisfaction as Snape’s jaw dropped and he stared at Dumbledore.

“How did you know?” Snape asked as if he could not help himself.

“Actually, Severus, Harry saw the whole discussion that you had with Lord Voldemort. Apparently, his close proximity to Hogwarts has made the connection between them very strong, much to Harry’s annoyance.” Dumbledore looked down his long, crooked nose at Snape. “Harry was a bit disturbed by your less that complimentary statements about me, and him.”

Snape sat very still, his face in profile, depriving Harry of the satisfaction of seeing his reaction. Harry glared at the swaying curtain of greasy black hair, but Snape did not turn his head.

“Professor, what about Tonks? She would make a passable substitute for Harry, don’t you think?” Remus spoke up from beside him, stepping forward to take an active roll in the conversation.

Harry leaned his head back against the high back of the armchair and closed his eyes. The steady prickling in his scar burned and his head ached abominably. Harry cleared his mind, sweeping the remnants of his anger at Snape away, smoothing his mental walls. He heard the drone of conversation around him, but as if from a distance, as he slipped into velvety blackness.

Lucius Malfoy’s pale, pointed face swam into focus, bowing in front of him. The pale eyes gleamed with evil glee. “I am not sure, My Lord, whether Snape is still ours or whether he has gone to Dumbledore’s side. He seemed strangely reluctant to bring Potter to you, My Lord, and I fear he is merely a spy in our midst.”

“Yes, Lucius.” Harry answered in a high, cold voice. “I am aware of your suspicions, but it will not matter if he delivers Potter to me as he has promised. I assure you that we will take every precaution. If Snape is in league with that muggle-lover, we will find out Saturday at dawn, and his death will be an incredibly slow and painful one.” Harry laughed in delight at the thought of torturing Snape and the prospect of, finally, getting his hands on Potter.

Maniacal laughter rang loudly in his ears and for the third time that night Harry’s head felt as if it were sliced in half. His head felt as if it had separated from his shoulders, the pain so incredible; he could not even remember where he was or what was happening. A jubilant feeling not his own welled up inside him, churning his stomach.

“Harry! HARRY!”

Someone shouted at him from a great distance, and he was shaken violently, his head threatening to implode with the pain. Harry became aware that it was he who was laughing, and the realization made him vomit. Harry could feel the strong hands of his godfather supporting him as he was leaned back in the chair. A warm weight settled on his knee and Phoenix song filled his mind. Calm flooded through him as cool fingers lay across his scar.

Opening his eyes, Harry reached a shaky hand out, brushed around Fawkes, and gripped Dumbledore’s arm.

“S…snape.” Harry’s voice was hoarse and weak. “Warn Snape…” He lurched and would have fallen if not for Remus’ hold on him. “He knows who…he’s just waiting…” His scar pulsed white-hot again. “Oh, please, make it stop!”

The long, cool fingers on his forehead tightened, and Harry vaguely felt Dumbledore’s other hand on the back of his head, easing it back against the high back of the chair. Remus still gripped his shoulder, and Harry could feel the warmth of Fawkes on his knee; he reached out to lay a hand on the warm feathers, hearing the poignant warble of song. He took several deep breaths, cleared as much of the fear from his mind as he could. The pressure that Dumbledore was exerting on his head helped him smooth the walls and ignore the pain.

Harry sat very still for several long minutes. “Please, tell Professor Snape that Lucius Malfoy believes him to be a spy for you, and Voldemort is of the same mind.”

There was a sudden intake of breath that he believed was Snape, but Harry ignored it, still addressing his observations to Dumbledore. “Voldemort is using him to get me, and plans to torture and kill him if he does not hand me over.” A shudder ran through him. “He was really happy at the idea of getting me and getting to torture Snape, if Voldemort decides he is working for you.”

Harry opened his eyes, looking up into the piercing blue ones peering down at him. “I will use the Pensieve if you want me to.” The lightening bolt scar prickled painfully. “And I’d really like it, if this stupid scar would stop hurting!” The eyes looking down at him over the top of the half-moon glasses crinkled at the corners, and a smile tugged at Dumbledore’s mouth.

“And I wish I could do something to help, Harry, truly.” Dumbledore stepped back and let his hands fall to his sides. Turning, he glanced towards Severus Snape’s pale face, and then back at Harry. “I do not believe that the Pensieve is necessary, Harry. Right now, I think you need to go to bed, and we will continue this discussion in the morning. I need a little time to reflect on the situation.”

Harry saw a look pass between his godfather and Dumbledore. He turned his head in time to see Remus nod in agreement. Harry stroked Fawkes’ head one last time, and the bird took off gracefully, landing smoothly on his perch. Standing up, Harry saw that Snape also stood and moved towards the door with them, sweeping past Harry without a word.

Moving ahead of Remus, Harry glanced back at Albus Dumbledore sitting behind the large polished desk, a solemn expression on his face, as his eyes followed their movements.

“Good night, Harry, I hope you sleep well.”

“Goodnight, sir.”

Harry slept surprisingly well and awoke the next morning with just vague memories of fleeting pain in the night. He felt rested and ready for what the day might bring, but really hoped that his scar, and Voldemort, would behave today. Throwing back the hangings, Harry hurried to dress as his stomach rumbled. He tossed a pillow at the still snoring Ron as he tugged on his trainers.

“Ron, get up, mate! You want to miss breakfast?”

“I’m coming,” Ron mumbled, and rolled over, snoring again.

Chuckling, Harry left the dormitory and headed down to the Great Hall. Sunlight poured in through the high windows and the enchanted ceiling showed a cobalt blue, cloudless sky. Today all the teachers were due back at Hogwarts for the new school term, and Harry wasn’t surprised to see many of them at breakfast. He hesitated in the doorway, until he saw Remus seated next to Mr. Weasley, and walked over to join them. Nodding hello to many familiar faces, he slid into the set next to his godfather.

“Alright, Harry?” Remus looked at his searchingly.

“Yes, actually, Remus, I slept well. Good morning, Mr. Weasley.”

“Good morning, Harry, Ron still sleeping?”

Harry was loading his plate with eggs and bacon, already chewing on a piece of toast. “Yes, sir, but I threw a pillow at him.”

“I think I’ll go up and collect him.” Mr. Weasley hid a smile and headed out the door.

Remus drank his coffee in companionable silence while Harry ate. Hermione and Tonks joined them for toast and orange juice. They were all done when Ron finally showed up, trailing behind Bill. Their conversation was lively as Ron ate, sticking by unspoken agreement to general topics, most of it focused on Quidditch.

Leaving the Great Hall together, the group went to the third floor classroom that they had been using. Once the door was closed, everyone was talking at once. Remus held up a hand.

“Stop! One at a time, please!”

Hermione put a hand on Harry’s arm. “What happened last night, Harry? You looked awful when you went up to the dormitory, but then you disappeared.”

Harry looked at Remus, who nodded his okay, and then went on to tell Ron and Hermione what had happened the night before. He described Snape’s situation, and what he was supposed to do for Voldemort. In a low voice, he described to them how much his scar had hurt, due to Voldemort being in Hogsmeade.

“Oh, Harry, what is Dumbledore going to do?

“I don’t know, he said he needed to think about it and we’d decide today.”

Remus paired them up them, and worked all three of them hard for the rest of the morning. Mr. Weasley came in at a while later, and stood by the door watching. He told them that her mother, who wanted to spend some time with her daughter, had cornered Ginny. Going through a number of stunning spells and shielding charms, Remus set Harry working on wand-less magic, concentrating on summoning and protection charms. Tonks and Bill had seen some of these the day before in the Entrance Hall, but Mr. Weasley was astounded at what Harry had learned to do.

Sending Harry to the bench by the window to practice his Occlumency around noon, Remus had Hermione and Tonks go down to the kitchens to get some sandwiches for lunch. He, Mr. Weasley, and Bill then rearranged the classroom for a meeting of the Order.

Harry closed his eyes to the activities and his mind to the distractions, and smoothed the walls in his brain. His thoughts turned to Sirius, and he filled his mind with the memories of last Christmas, when they’d been so happy.

“Harry.”

The warm, welcoming voice wrapped around his consciousness, and Harry found himself standing on a raised, stone dais, facing the ancient archway at one end, tattered black curtain swaying slightly. He glanced around at the stone benched that rose in tiers upward, creating an amphitheatre, a Death Chamber.

“Sirius.” Harry walked toward the archway, the last place he’d seen his godfather alive, and the image him disappearing through the veil playing through his mind.

“What’s wrong, Harry?” Warm but with an anxious note, Sirius picked up on Harry’s mood.

“Nothing.” Hand out, Harry reached toward the veil, wondering as he had a thousand times before, what would happen if he pulled it back.”

“Harry, stay back! What is going on?” Sirius sounded uncharacteristically stern.

Snatching his hand back, finger tips brushing a fold in the veil, Harry took a step backward and sat down on the cold stone, facing the arch. A whisper of pain swept the chamber, and Harry knew that his scar had prickled. Ignoring it, he began to tell Sirius about the past few days, and describing for him the visions he’d seen of Voldemort, Malfoy, and Snape.

“So, Dumbledore is try to figure out how we can lure Voldemort into the open, and get rid of both him, and the Death Eaters, but still protect me.” Harry finished. “Although, I don’t understand why I just don’t try to fulfill the Prophecy, seems like a perfect time.”

“No! Harry, you are not ready yet to take on Voldemort!” Sirius sounded alarmed. “I won’t allow it! Dumbledore knows that!”

“You sound like Remus did last night,” Harry mumbled.

“I would hope so! Moony knows how I feel, how your mum and dad would feel, Harry!”

Harry rubbed his palms on his pants, saying what he had thought so many times in the past few weeks. “I don’t know if I will ever be ready, Sirius; it just seems like I should try something before he gets any stronger, or anyone else gets hurt.”

Sirius was quiet for so long that Harry thought he had gone. “Harry, when Albus Dumbledore reminded me of the Prophecy last year just after Voldemort’s return, Remus was with me. We were the only other two that had heard the actual words of the prediction, besides with your parents, before you were born. Even the members of the Order of the Phoenix, who have sworn to protect you with their lives, only know the content, not the exact words. We both agreed with Dumbledore that you should be told about the Prophecy, but when the time was right. And Moony and I insisted that once you were told, one of us would be with you at all times, no matter what. We knew you well enough to know how you would take that kind of news, and did not want you feeling like you had to bear the weight of it all by yourself.” Sirius’ voice was gentle. “That was when we made our pact with Dumbledore, when Remus agreed to step in if anything happened to me.” Sirius’ voice trailed off. “No one could love you more than we do, Harry.”

Harry felt warmed by Sirius’ words, glad to know that he had their support, and they understood the burden he felt. “You know that I love you, Sirius, and Remus too.”

“Then you must promise me, Harry James Potter, that you will not do anything that Albus Dumbledore has not expressly instructed you to do, when it comes to Voldemort.”

“But…”

“No, Harry! You must be ready first!” Sirius pleaded. “Promise me!”

“Alright, Sirius, I promise,” Harry muttered, giving in.

“And I think I may have an idea for tomorrow that might help, but I need to talk to Dumbledore. Can you bring him to me?”

“I’ll try…”

A great throb of pain brought Harry back to the classroom. He clapped a hand to his forehead. “Ouch!”

“What’s wrong, Harry?” Hermione was back, heaps of sandwiches piled on trays sat on the table formed of desks, with flagons of juice, and plates of puddings and cakes.

“Voldemort’s awake, I think.”

Harry felt Remus’ presence beside him and turned to look at him. “Alright, Harry?”

“Yeah, so far. Remus?”

Remus Lupin sat down on the bench beside him, clear gray eyes meeting his bright green ones. “What’s the matter?”

Harry gave him a faint smile and lowered his voice. “I just wanted you to know, as I just promised Sirius, that I will not do anything, regarding the Prophecy, unless Professor Dumbledore has instructed me to. Between the two of you, I can’t even think of stepping out of line!” He finished with a shake of his head.

“You got that right, mate! What did Sirius say?” Remus asked with a soft laugh.

“He is afraid I’m going to try and take on Voldemort before I’m ready.” Harry relayed. “And he wants to talk to Dumbledore, he thinks he has an idea.”

“Harry.” Remus slung an arm around Harry’s shoulders. “Neither Sirius or I want to make this any more difficult for you than it already is, but if you try to face Voldemort before you are fully trained and ready, you will die. That would not fulfill the Prophecy as I interpret it! Besides, you will not face him without me, and I am in no hurry to lose you or die myself. Okay?” He locked eyes with his godson.

Harry leaned into the arm. “I love you, too, Remus.” He smiled widely, and Remus winked back.

“Harry, Remus, let’s eat!” Hermione called over to them as everyone else had assembled.

The classroom was filled with members of the Order of the Phoenix, in addition to the teenagers, including Ginny and Mrs. Weasley.

Everyone grabbed sandwiches from the trays and found a place to sit. Warm sunlight filtered into the room and muttered conversation was punctuated with muted laughter. Harry watched as Ginny tossed rebellious looks at her mother, having already been told she wasn’t staying for the meeting. Harry caught her eye and winked, letting her know that he would tell her later. Remus left after he ate, in search of Professor Dumbledore, and returned shortly to beckon Harry from the room.

Harry followed his godfather to the Headmaster’s office, where

Dumbledore stood gazing out the window overlooking the Forbidden Forest,

the Quidditch pitch in the background. He turned as Harry walked up beside him, remembering the night that he had been scared of the great black dog that had appeared there.

“How is your head today, Harry?” Professor Dumbledore asked, bring a hand up to rest on Harry’s shoulder.

Looking up with a small smile, Harry met the crystal clear blue eyes that always seem to be able to see through to his soul. “Just some prickling in my scar so far, Professor. Today Sirius seems to be a bit of a headache.”

Dumbledore smiled. “So Remus tells me, Harry.”

Directing Harry over to the two armchairs across from his desk, Dumbledore sat down. “I have asked Alastor to start the meeting, so they will know what we are facing by the time we get there.” He met Harry’s eyes, searching the brilliant green depths. “It sounds like Sirius had a bit of a go at you this afternoon, Harry.”

“Only because he was worried, sir. I just said that maybe this was the time to try and attempt to fulfill the Prophecy, and, well, Sirius didn’t like that idea at all.”

“I can understand his reaction, Harry.” Dumbledore pinned him with a sharp look.

“I promised him that I would follow your instructions, Professor, just as I have promised you and Remus.” Harry said with a sigh. “I guess yesterday wore at me a bit.”

Albus Dumbledore continued to hold Harry’s eyes. “I realize it is difficult, Harry, which is why I waited to burden you with this, and it was something that worried your parents, too.”

Harry felt a lurch in his stomach. He had forgotten that his parents had known of

the Prophecy before he had been born, and that was the reason they had been in hiding when Voldemort killed them.

“Professor?” Harry asked. “Were my mum and dad scared when you told them about the Prophecy?”

“They were very proud of the fact that you were one of two boys who had been destined to save all of the magical world, Harry, but yes, they knew what it would mean for you and them, until you were old and strong enough to fulfill the Prophecy. That was why Lily and James immediately took the precautions they did to protect you.” Dumbledore looked down for a moment, sadness evident in his face. “They would be so very proud of you, Harry, and the young man you have become.”

Harry blinked rapidly, pleased but saddened by the words.

“Come now, Harry, we have to get on with it. Will you please see if you can contact Sirius?”

Harry shut his eyes dutifully, smoothing the walls in his mind, and filling his thoughts with the love he felt for his godfathers, Sirius and Remus.

“Hello, Harry.” The warm, husky voice held a soft smile.

“Hi, Sirius.” The cold, stone room took shape around him, but this time he wasn’t alone, the tall, thin figure of his Headmaster stood beside him.

“Hello, Sirius.”

“Hello, Professor, and thank you for everything.” Sirius said.

“You are welcome, Sirius. Harry said you had an idea that might help us?”

“Professor, there were times when you would arrive and leave Grimmauld Place with the help of Fawkes the Phoenix. Would it be possible for Fawkes to do the same for Harry tomorrow morning? I know Fawkes had helped Harry in the past.”

“Excellent idea, Sirius, it might just work.” Dumbledore stroked his long, silver beard. “Thank you, Sirius, I think you may have given me the solution.”

“Just keep him safe for me, Professor, please.” Sirius sounded grave.

“You know I will do my best, my friend.” Dumbledore responded gently. “Harry, we need to go.”

Harry stretched a hand toward the archway. “I’ll be back soon, Sirius.”

“Be careful, son, please.” Sirius’s voice was soft.

“I will, I promise.”

Members of the Order of the Phoenix filled the third floor classroom; Ron and Hermione headed to the bench by the window that Harry often used to practice his Occlumency when they entered the room. Harry left Dumbledore’s side as they entered the room and moved to sit beside his friends. They greeted him with silent smiles, as Alastor Moody was still addressing the assembled members. Harry saw Remus Lupin sitting near them in the back of the room, and catching his eye, gave him a slight nod and smile.

“So, in order to draw Voldemort and his Death Eaters out, Harry will go out with Snape tomorrow morning at dawn. They will be coming out the side door of the castle here.” Moody flicked his wand at the blackboard to the front of the room, and a simple diagram of the castle and grounds appeared, with a door outlined in green. “Our assumption is that the Death Eaters, at least, will have Apparated into the Forbidden Forest at the point the Snape has indicated to them is safe. It will be about here.” He drew an orange X on the diagram. “This leaves a large area of unprotected grounds for them to cross. That should give us time to move into position in a manner that should not compromise Snape’s contact with You-Know-Who.” Moody turned towards Dumbledore, who was still standing just inside the classroom door. “Which brings us to the problem of protecting Potter.”

Professor Dumbledore smiled in greeting. “Thank you, Alastor. As you all know, the real goal of this is to thwart the Dark Lord’s plans and send a clear warning that we will not tolerate the disruption of this school. I believe we can accomplish this tomorrow morning with little risk to Harry or any members of the Order.” He looked at the faces of the people gathered in the room. “In order to achieve this, however, Harry will have to participate.” He strode to the blackboard at the front of the room. With a wave of his wand, he enlarged the diagram to show Hogsmeade and the area of the Shrieking Shack.

“Now, as we had planned, the Minister of Magic has assigned a squad of Aurors to use the Shrieking Shack as a home base, with the purpose of protecting Harry and Hogwarts against attack by Lord Voldemort or any of his Death Eaters for the coming school term. This information is secret, known to only the Minister, the Aurors, and the Order; as much as is practicable, the Aurors assigned to it will also be members of the Order. Kingsley will be the Auror in charge, with Tonks, Sturgis, and Dawlish as part of his squad. Most of you are already aware that Remus will also be staying at Hogwarts for the new term.” Dumbledore looked around at the 20 or so people gathered in front of him. “It is essential that the students who arrive Sunday night be confident of their safety. To this end, Harry is being allowed to have a limited participation in this operation. He is well aware of the risks involved.”

Albus Dumbledore walked back towards the desks. “For this plan, we will have 2 groups. One will be the protection guard, headed by Alastor, and the other will be Kingsley’s defensive guard.”

Harry’s scar pulsed with white-hot pain, and he gasped, his hands flying up to knead his forehead. He could still hear the voices continuing in the background, but his focus was on easing the continuing pain. Closing his eyes, he turned his awareness inward, making sure the walls in his mind were still sealed and smooth. The last thing they needed was Voldemort picking this moment to again push into his consciousness. His scar gave another great lurch, and Harry knew that Voldemort was angry about something, and he tried to focus on the emotions that he was feeling, which had nothing to do with his own.

The searing pain eased after several long minutes, along with the vague feeling of irritation.

Opening his eyes, Harry saw that Hermione had reached out and grabbed his arm. He smiled at her, but she jerked her head toward the front of the room. Glancing over, he saw that Remus was looking at him, and Professor Dumbledore was making his way towards them. Kingsley Shacklebolt and Alastor Moody seemed to have divided up their two teams, and were speaking to them.

“Harry?” Remus leaned towards him.

“It’s all right, he’s just irritated at something,” Harry muttered quietly, not wanting anyone else to hear. He looked up apologetically at the Headmaster, who came to stand by him.

Dumbledore put his hand on Harry’s shoulder, making eye contact with Hermione, Ron, and Remus. “Please come with me.”

He led them from the classroom and up to the Gryffindor common room. Ron, Hermione and Harry seated themselves in their favorite chairs set in a half circle in front of the unlit fireplace. Remus sat on the hearth, close enough to keep an eye on Harry, whose head was still aching.

“I realize that you both would like to have a greater roll tomorrow morning, but I must ask you to remain here in Gryffindor tower, where I will know you are safe.” Albus Dumbledore told Hermione and Ron. “I would ask you to be up and dressed, watching from a point of concealment, but ready if anyone comes into the castle that might need help.”

“Yes, Professor.” Ron muttered with a sideways glance at Harry.

“Professor?” Hermione looked up at him. “How are you going to get Harry out of the middle of all that tomorrow?”

“Well, Hermione, Sirius suggested that Fawkes might be able to help us with that, which, I must say, is a very good idea,” Dumbledore explained with a reassuring smile. “Please relay my instructions to Miss Weasley when she joins you, as well.”

He turned to Harry. “The meeting upstairs will probably last until dinner time, after which I would like you to meet me in the third floor classroom.”

Harry nodded, and Dumbledore left, taking Remus with him and heading back to the continuing meeting.

“What happened with Sirius, Harry?” Hermione asked as soon as the portrait swung closed.

Harry related his dream conversation with Sirius, and what Sirius had suggested Fawkes would be able to do.

“Like he did down in the Chamber of Secrets, Harry?” Ron remembered.

“Yes, something like that,” here Harry paused, “I know that Remus is really worried about me being out there with Snape, but I’ve escaped from Voldemort before. Anyway, this is more about turning Voldemort away with a sound defeat, so that he doesn’t trying anything else against Hogwarts.”

“What about the pain Voldemort causes in your scar? Won’t it be worse in his presence?” Hermione asked softly, worry shining in her eyes.

“Yes and no. In the graveyard that night, and at the Ministry last term, there were times when my scar hurt, but it doesn’t make me pass out or nauseated. That only happens when Voldemort is really angry or happy about something. He doesn’t know that he affects me, I don’t think.” Harry leaned forward and lowered his voice, “What I am afraid of is that he might try to possess me, like he did in June. That hurt so badly I thought I was dying.”

Harry fell silent, remembering those moments in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic, the night Sirius had died.

“What happened, Harry? You never told us much about that,” Hermione asked.

A slight smile played around Harry’s mouth before he answered, “I had actually given up, figured I was dead anyway, so the thought of being with Sirius and how happy that would make me was all I could think about.” He looked up at his two friends, and then continued, “Then, all of a sudden, Voldemort was gone. Dumbledore says it was because my heart was full of love, and Tom can’t stand love.”

“It sounds to me like that is your answer to the whole You-Know-Who thing, mate,” Ron nodded sagely. He crossed his arms against his chest and leaned back in his armchair.

Harry grinned and tossed a cushion at Ron, smacking him on the head. Hermione giggled, and Ron grabbed the pillow, tossing it at her. She ducked, and the cushion sailed across the room. Harry snapped his fingers and the cushion flew back to him.

“Bloody hell, Harry, you promised to teach me how to do that!”

At Ron’s yell, Harry sent the cushion flying back at him. Soon there were cushions, pillows, and other non-breakable items sailing around the common room, some quite randomly, and some with pinpoint accuracy.

Hermione ducked Ron’s feeble attempt to hurl a shoe at her, laughing as she jumped over the back of her own chair. Harry had taken refuge behind the doorway to the boys’ dormitory, and peered around the corner to watch the multiple items he was controlling fly about the room.

Ginny stormed into the middle of this chaos, her face set in a mutinous scowl. “What-oomph!” A large pillow smacking into her stomach cut off her words. She staggered back a few steps before throwing the pillow forcefully at her brother.

Laughing, Hermione stood up from behind her chair and Harry appeared in the doorway with a grin splitting his face. Ron picked himself up from tabletop where the pillow had knocked him.

“Oy, Ginny, why’d you do that?” Ron rubbed his bottom.

Ginny didn’t answer, but was smiling as she watched Harry and Hermione set the room to rights with a few flicks of their wrists. Collapsing back into the armchairs, they all began to tell Ginny what had happened while she had been with Mrs. Weasley. Her head swiveled between them as they took turns going over everything from the meeting to Dumbledore’s instructions. Harry wrapped it up with the conversation with Sirius and the chance that Fawkes might be able to help.

“I still don’t like the idea of you being outside the castle, with Snape as the only thing between you and You-Know-Who!” said Ginny, her hazel eyes concerned.

A blast of pain hit him like a jolt of white-hot lightening, splitting his head in two. Rage washed over him in waves, and the pallid face of Severus Snape swam in front of his eyes. He was looking down on Snape from a height not his own, his unnaturally long, skeleton white fingers raised a dark wand.

“Crucio.” His voice was high pitched and cold, smiling thinly as he listened to the screams of the figure in black writhing on the floor. Raising his wand, he watched without feeling as the figure collapsed. “That is but a taste of my displeasure, Severus. You will find a way to get the boy out of the castle at dawn tomorrow, Dumbledore be damned.”

Harry found himself on his hands and knees on the floor of the common room, his stomach heaving as he vomited. Sick, ice-cold, and shaking hard, another wave of incredible pain threatened to sweep him back into the blackness. Voices seemed to call out to him, but he heard them as if from a great distance as he tried to smooth the walls in his mind and summon the easing note of Phoenix song. Burying his head in his hands, rocking back and forth on his knees, he heard a snatch of Hermione’s voice through the waves of pain, and grasped it as a lifeline, focusing all his remaining strength on her. The pain eased slightly. He could feel trembling hands on him, just holding him, and he took comfort in their presence.

Gentle hands that he recognized as the Headmaster’s lifted him with strength that should be impossible in one that old, and laid him on the floor. Cool, calming fingers soothed his forehead, and the strong hands of his godfather eased a cushion behind his head. The searing pain had abated to a level where he could at least open his eyes, and when he did so, the figures above him were slightly blurred around the edges. Harry reached a hand toward Albus Dumbledore and clutched at his richly embroidered purple robes. He tried to tell Dumbledore, but couldn’t get the words out. Swallowing painfully against the dryness in his throat, Harry tried again.

“Help Snape…need someone to find him…” Harry took a sip of water from a goblet that appeared at his lips. “Snape tortured, Professor, Voldemort used the Cruciatus Curse on him…”

“Do you know where Professor Snape was, Harry?” Dumbledore asked quietly, his fingers still resting on the lightening bolt shaped scar. “Can you remember?”

“The same place he has been, in Hogsmeade.”

“Thank you, Harry.” Dumbledore stood quickly, exchanged a glance with Remus Lupin and quickly left the room.

Harry struggled to sit up, his godfather supporting his back. Ron stood up and extended his hand, pulling Harry to his feet. Hermione clutched the goblet of water and hovered around Harry like a mother hen. Ginny stood nearby, pale but ready to help. Harry dropped into his favorite chair, still shaky and rubbing his prickling forehead.

“Harry?” Remus stood over him, a question in his gaze.

“I’m alright, Remus, really,” Harry assured him.

Remus searched his face with a probing look before nodding and striding from the room.

Twenty minutes later, Harry and the others made their way down to the Great Hall, where the enchanted ceiling showed the dwindling golden sunlight of a late summer’s day. The long table was set and waiting, but no one else had shown up yet for dinner. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny arranged themselves at the table, talking quietly about Harry’s vision. While none of them felt anything but dislike for Snape, and Harry could honestly say that he hated the man, he was not willing to sacrifice anyone else to Voldemort, not even Snape.

People began to filter in slowly, teachers back for the term who seated themselves at one end of the long table, and then the members of the Order, who sat at the other end. Soon, the only vacant seats where those directly adjacent to the teenagers. Food appeared and people filled their plates. Harry found he had little appetite, but put food on his plate to appease Hermione’s glaring look.

He was pushing kidney pie around his plate when Remus, Dumbledore, and Severus Snape swept into the room. A wave of relief flooded through him, and he felt like he was taking the first deep breath in an hour. Both his guardian and his Headmaster gave him smiles and seated themselves on either side of him and Ron. Snape refused to look in his direction, even when he ended up sitting diagonally across the table.

Harry felt long fingers rest on his arm, and looked across Ron into Albus Dumbledore’s twinkling blue eyes. “You need to eat something, Harry; we still have work to do tonight.”

Harry grinned back and began to eat, finding that he was hungry after all. The rest of dinner passed pleasantly, the sun sinking and the deep indigo of twilight appearing through the enchanted ceiling above them. It was nice to just sit beside Remus, listening as Ron and Bill launched into a spirited debate on which of their favorite Quidditch teams had a better chance to win the League Cup. Ginny and Hermione were having giggling fits as they had a whispered conversation with Tonks, who showed up to dinner with bright orange hair. Mrs. Weasley, with whom Harry had not had a chance to speak other than in passing, kept shooting worried looks at him and seemed to be arguing with Alastor Moody.

After dinner ended, the others went upstairs to the Gryffindor common room to play Wizard chess, and Harry followed Remus and Dumbledore up the marble staircase. He was surprised when they turned down the second floor corridor towards the Headmaster’s office, instead of going back to the third floor classroom. He walked beside Remus in silence, until Dumbledore ushered them into the office.

“Harry.” Dumbledore stopped him just inside the door with a hand on his shoulder. Harry looked up to meet the clear blue eyes, his curiosity gleaming in his bright green eyes. “Thanks to you, Hagrid was able to ‘accidentally’ find Professor Snape struggling alongside the roadway to Hogsmeade, and brought him directly to Madam Pomfrey. Severus Snape may never find it in him to thank you, but you made me very proud when you were concerned for his safety.” The corners of his eyes crinkled and there was a sparkle in their depths. “I am not sure which hurt worse, the Cruciatus Curse, or knowing that he owned you for sending him help.”

Dumbledore walked around his desk and picked up the old black kettle that they had used before as a portkey, and came back to where Harry and Remus stood.

“Portus.” The kettle gleamed blue, and trembled for an instant. “Harry, I would like to teach you something tonight that I can not do within Hogwarts, alright?”

“Yes, sir.” Harry glanced at Remus, who smiled and bent to pick up his and Harry black cloaks from one of the armchairs set in front of the desk.

“Alright, ready?”

Harry placed a fingertip on the kettle and felt the familiar sensation of a hook being jerked from behind his navel, a rush of wind hurtling past him. The next thing he knew, they were standing in the basement kitchen of number 12 Grimmauld Place, and the Weasley twins sat at the long table as if waiting for them.

“Oy, Harry! Remus!” Fred jumped up to shake their hands, followed by George. They turned to Professor Dumbledore. “Everything is ready, Professor.” With that they both left the room as they called good night.

“Remus, if you would go on ahead, then.” Dumbledore said, and handing Harry his cloak, Lupin Disapparated.

“Now, Harry, I want to teach you two things tonight; one is to be able to shield yourself from the strongest curses and the other, is to be able to become invisible for short periods of time.” Dumbledore told him. “In order to do this, we need to start with your Apparation skills. Remus is waiting for you at Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes. I’d like you to Apparate there, and then back here.”

Harry slung his cloak over his shoulder and nodded, concentrating on the twins’ premises in Diagon Alley. The next second, Harry found himself in the back storeroom of the shop, where Remus stood waiting.

“Wow!” Harry gasped, as he looked at the stock and merchandise stacked in neat piles. “The twins must be doing very well, look at this!” Mountains of sweets and stacks of Skiving Snackboxes lined the walls to the ceiling.

Remus chuckled and handed him a wrapped box. “I found this sitting over here, see your name on it.”

Sure enough, Harry could see his name scrawled across the box in the untidy handwriting of either of the twins. Shaking it curiously, Harry beamed at Remus. ”I think it is a care package of sweets!”

“Probably right, Harry, no problem Apparating?”

“No, none.” Harry walked up and stood beside his godfather, noticing that he looked a bit paler than usual, and had dark smudges under his eyes. He quickly calculated the lunar chart in his head, and knew that they had ten days left before the full moon. “Are you alright, Remus, you look tired tonight?”

Remus smiled at him, but Harry noticed that it didn’t reach his worried gray eyes. Putting his arm around Harry’s shoulders, Remus sighed. “I will just be glad when this is over tomorrow, Harry, and we settle into a nice normal routine for the term. You are not the only one who has Sirius haunting your dreams.”

Harry met his godfather’s eyes, his bright green eyes astonished. “Is it…is it him? Can you talk to him too?”

“I’m not really sure, Harry, whether these have been like yours, or just my worry nagging me in the form of Padfoot.” He dropped his arm and stepped back. “We need to get back, before Professor Dumbledore thinks something has happened. Go on back to the kitchen, Harry.”

Harry gripped the package, concentrated on the kitchen, and in an instant, he was there. Professor Dumbledore looked up from the cushy armchair he had apparently conjured for the wait, and stood.

“Well done, Harry, oh and sweets, no doubt, from Fred and George.” Dumbledore waved his wand and the chair disappeared, just as Remus appeared near the fireplace.

“Alright, Harry, come over here now.”

Harry sat the box on the table and moved to stand beside Dumbledore. Remus sat down in a kitchen chair to watch.

“To become invisible for several minutes at a time, what I want you to do is just concentrate on moving your body like thus.” Dumbledore spun in a circle, his deep purple robes a blur, and disappeared. He reappeared several feet away, still turning. “As with Apparation, where concentration is so important, the key to this magic is concentrating on the movement as well as the incantation, Harry, but this is the result.” He spun, disappeared and reappeared next to Lupin’s chair.

Harry looked from Remus to Dumbledore, with something akin to panic in his eyes. “I…I don’t know if I can do that, Professor!”

Albus Dumbledore walked back to where Harry stood, and looked down at him over his half-moon glasses. “Harry, what I am going to teach you is very advanced magic, accomplished only by the most powerful wizards. I know it seems daunting, but I know that you are just that, a powerful wizard.”

Harry’s head shook of its own accord it seemed. “But…”

“Harry, did you ever wonder why I didn’t help you your third year, when Remus was teaching you the Patronus Charm?” Dumbledore put his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “I knew you had exhibited magical abilities above those of your classmates, but I did not know how much magical talent or power you had, and didn’t want you to feel the pressure of having me teach you. When Remus asked me if he could help you and teach you, I gave my permission, even though I was concerned. A Patronus is a very difficult N.E.W.T level charm that only the most powerful students can master, and that in their seventh year. I was absolutely delighted when you produced that stag at the Quidditch game that year!”

The hand on his shoulder tightened and Harry saw the Headmaster’s eyes grow solemn. “When you came out of the maze at the end of your fourth year, and told me that you had thrown off the Imperius Curse that Voldemort put on you, I knew for certain that you indeed had the power for this type of magic. Now, you just need the confidence in yourself that I have in you, and your abilities.”

Harry nodded, as he didn’t think that he would be able to answer, his throat suddenly felt very tight. He moved to stand at one end of the long room, closed his eyes, cleared his mind, and began to spin. He promptly disappeared.

Reappearing next to Remus’ chair, and toppling over into his lap, Harry laughed with pure joy. He hugged his guardian, hopped up, ran to Dumbledore, and without thinking, threw his arms around him. “I did it! I did it!”

With a laugh, Dumbledore patted Harry on the back. “Well done, my boy, well done! Now, do it again.”

Over the next hour, Harry practiced spinning and disappearing until he was dizzy. He was able to stay invisible for longer periods of time, the more he practiced, but felt drained when Dumbledore told him to sit and rest. A butterbeer appeared in front of him, and Remus handed him a handful of chocolate frogs to eat. Professor Dumbledore conjured himself a cushy armchair again, and helped himself to a chocolate frog when Harry offered.

As they relaxed, Dumbledore told Harry about the plans for the morning. “Remus will be coming up to wake you and Ron up, Harry and get ready to leave the castle. If anyone else comes up, do not move and press your watch immediately.”

“Do you think Voldemort has spies at Hogwarts, Professor?” Harry asked, concerned.

“I do not believe so, Harry, but we must anticipate any problem, especially when almost anyone could be placed under the Imperius Curse.” Dumbledore told him. “It was one of the reasons that I said no one should be on their own, and had your closest friends learn to throw off the curse.” He smiled at Harry. “At least I did not have to worry about you, Remus, Hermione, Severus, or Hagrid, as you have all proven to be able to throw off the curse.”

“I would like you to dress warm but lightly in the morning, Harry, pants, jumper, trainers, and robe or cloak. I want you to be able to conceal your wand and invisibility cloak, but be able to move swiftly and freely,” Dumbledore told him, rising and banishing his armchair.

Harry nodded, and moved to stand up. Remus cleared the table with a wave of his wand and joined them next to the fireplace. Dumbledore explained the incantation that Harry was to use, and the wand motion, to produce a shield strong enough to turn away almost any curse. Remus stood an arm length away, listening intently, as he had also expressed a desire to learn the charm. Dumbledore walked them through the spell and Harry was able to product a golden shield on his second try, Remus a pearly shimmering one.

Positioning them at either end of the kitchen, Dumbledore had Harry and Remus tested their shields with simple stunning curses. They laughed and ducked each other’s spells with ease, until Dumbledore stepped in and started shooting purple blasting spells at them. Much to Dumbledore’s delight, both of their shields held up to the onslaught, when he pinned them at each end of the room, shields raised.

“Well done, gentlemen, well done! Alright, then, let us get back to Hogwarts, I believe it is time for bed, Harry.”

They used the old, black kettle and were soon standing in the Headmaster’s office again. Dumbledore patted Harry on the back as he walked them to the door.

“You did well tonight, Harry, now get some sleep so you’ll be in top form in the morning. Alright?”

“I’ll try, Professor.” Harry told him, although sleep was the furthest thing from his mind. The moment they had returned to Hogwarts, the prickling had begun again in his scar. He said good night and walked down the circular stairway with Remus.

The whole castle seemed hushed and subdued. Their footsteps rang unnaturally loud in Harry’s ears as they walked up the staircase toward Gryffindor Tower. His scar gave a hard throb, and Harry rubbed it with the heal of his right hand. He did not have a feeling of foreboding, more just a dread of the battle ahead, and the worry that someone he knew might get hurt or worse. Sleep seemed to be an unattainable goal tonight; lying awake in the dark listening to Ron snore seemed unappealing.

“Harry,” Remus said quietly, “would you or Ron mind if I slept in the dorm with you tonight?”

Harry smiled and shook his head at the perception of his godfather. “I think I’d really like that, Remus, and Ron’s probably already asleep.”

Remus left him as he entered the portrait hole to get his things and Harry walked into the common room to find Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Tonks, and Bill waiting seated in front of a gently crackling fire.

“We didn’t want to go to bed before you got back, mate.” Ron said simply.

“I’m glad you didn’t.” Harry told them, sitting down in a vacant chair.

“Watcha got there, Harry?” Tonks asked, her hair now a brilliant green that matched Harry’s eyes.

“Oh, I forgot! Care package from Fred and George, here Ginny, you open it.” Harry thrust the wrapped box into Ginny’s surprised hands, taking in their questioning looks. “We were at Grimmauld Place this evening. Saw the twins for a few minutes, and they left this for me in the backroom of the shop.” He trailed off. “What?”

Hermione was giving him on of her looks. “Spit it out, Harry”

Harry laughed, and by the time Remus had reappeared, he had told them all about the trip and the things they had learned. Everyone was laughing as Harry told them about having to dodge Dumbledore’s purple blasters. Ginny was still holding the wrapped box, but ripped it open quickly when she was reminded. All of their favorite sweets cascaded to the floor, and Ron scrambled to pick them up. They all laughed at him, and Harry began to summon the chocolate frogs, making Ron dive for them as they shot by him.

Half an hour later, Remus was shooing everyone up to his or her dormitory or room. It was approaching midnight, and they needed to at least try to sleep. Pulling off their clothing, and getting ready for bed was accomplished in silence, Remus joining them after checking that everything was secure. Harry’s scar was still throbbing, but no more than he’d felt before.

Ron’s snores could soon be heard emanating from behind his hangings, but Harry knew that Remus was still laying awake in the dark.

“Remus?”

“Yes, Harry?” came his godfather’s calm, reassuring voice.

“I am really glad you’re here.”

“I am glad too, try and get some sleep, son, okay?”

“Okay,” Harry rolled over, cleared his mind, smoothed the wall in his brain, and dropped off to sleep.

It was still dark out when Harry felt his godfather’s hand on his shoulder. Rolling over on his back, Harry took the glasses that Remus held out to him. Remus looked pale and hollowed-eyed, and Harry knew he hadn’t slept. Without speaking, Harry got up and hurried through his dressing as Remus shook Ron awake. They did not light any candles, wanting no lights to shine through the windows. Making his way to the common room, Harry found Hermione already up and toasting bread over a small fire. She too appeared pale and dark circles were visible under her eyes.

“Alright, Hermione?” Harry asked, stretching out his hand to touch her arm.

She made a valiant attempt to smile. “I will be fine when this is over and done, Harry. And I have to tell you, sitting here waiting is not going to be an easy thing to do.” She handed him a piece of toast and a flagon of orange juice. “More importantly, how do you feel?”

Harry shrugged. “Okay, I guess. I think I slept alright.” He nibbled at the toast.

Ron trudged down the stairs from the dormitory, his clothing askew and his eyes barely open. Remus followed behind him, carrying Harry’s invisibility cloak. The others filtered in over the next few minutes, in various degrees of alertness. Ron had slumped in a chair and could be heard snoring softly. Ginny made her way towards him, but Harry stopped her.

“Its okay, Ginny, let him sleep. It doesn’t matter, there is nothing he can do, anyway,” Harry told her softly.

She turned her bright brown eyes up at him and Harry was startled to see them awash with tears. “Yes, it does matter, Harry!” she told him fiercely.

Without thinking, Harry put his arms around her and putted her close to his chest. When Hermione appeared, Harry shifted Ginny so that he held both of them tightly against him. He held them for several long minutes, oblivious of the activities in the room around him, until Remus caught his eye from the doorway that led out of Gryffindor Tower. Kissing Hermione, and then Ginny, on the top of their heads, Harry squeezed them one last time.

“Be careful, Harry.” Hermione whispered.

“Just come back, Harry,” Ginny told him in that fierce voice.

“I will, to both. Please, tell Ron…tell him I’ll see him in a while.” Harry looked around the room, and at the people who were the most important to him in the world, and summoned a smile for them. Turning, he followed Remus out the portrait hole door and down the marble staircases to the Entrance Hall.

Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore, and Alastor Moody were already there, speaking quietly among themselves. They broke off and looked up as Harry and Remus approached. Moody took his leave as they moved to stand beside the Headmaster.

“Ah, Harry, how are you?” Dumbledore placed a hand on his shoulder. “Everything is ready, I believe.”

He steered Harry down a hallway that lead away from the great oak front doors and Snape trailed behind. They moved in silence, Dumbledore on one side of him and Remus on the other, his wand tip lit. There was no need to speak, everything that needed to be said had already been. Coming to a stop beside to a little-used door that led out to a side yard adjacent to the Forbidden Forest, 50 feet away, Dumbledore turned and looked down at Harry in the semi-darkness.

“Harry, stay close to Professor Snape, and keep your pace measured so that the teams have time to get into place. When you get closer to the edge of the forest, I want you to stop; do not for any reason, Harry, go into the forest.”

“Yes, sir.” Harry knew that he was the bait in this operation, and he was to draw Voldemort and the Death Eaters to the open area along the edge of the forest.

“I am sure that you will know before anyone else when Lord Voldemort arrives, but once that happens, Harry, you are to get back inside the castle.” Dumbledore’s bright blue eyes bored into Harry’s and searched his soul. “If you get into trouble, press your watch, Fawkes will come.”

“Yes, Professor.” Harry’s throat felt tight, and his scar gave a throb.

Remus threw an arm around Harry’s shoulders and squeezed briefly. “I’ll see you in a bit, Harry.”

“Alright, Remus.”

Then he was alone with Severus Snape who had neither looked at him nor said a word to him. They stood in darkness, silent, for ten minutes. A thin ribbon of pale light began to show under the edge of the doorway. Snape seemed to be waiting for something, some signal. Probably from the Dark Mark burned into the inside of Snape’s left arm, Harry decided.

“Now, Potter.” Snape reached out and pulled open the old wooden door.

The sun had barely cleared the horizon on the far side of the Forbidden Forest, and the side yard was still mostly in shadow. Harry drew a deep breath and stepped over the threshold of the door. Snape signaled him to stay to his left, and Harry dropped a half a step behind him, as Snape strode out into the newly born day in a swish of robes.

They had not gone a dozen steps before the pain hit Harry, his scar searing white-hot on his forehead. “He’s here,” Harry hissed in an undertone, his hand tightening on his wand, and he quickly made sure his mind was closed.

Snape gave no sign that he had heard Harry, nor did he slow his pace. They had reached the midway point in the yard, when Harry’s forehead exploded in pain. He narrowed his eyes against it, and swung around.

“Very good, Potter, you are improving.” The high, cold voice of Lord Voldemort came from a black-hooded figure that stood between Harry, Snape, and the castle.

The sun rising over the Forbidden Forest had not yet illuminated the area of the lawn were they stood, and Harry could just make out the gleaming red of Voldemort’s slitted, snake-like eyes beneath the hood.

“Thank you, Severus, you have served your master well, but I think you have outlived your usefulness. Avada Kedavra!”

“Nooooo!” Harry yelled, not willing to lose anyone this morning, and he dove into Snape, knocking him down as the jet of green light shot so closely by them that Harry could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

Voldemort laughed, cold and humorless. “Always the hero, Potter? I would have thought our last meeting would have taught you some lessons. It won’t matter anyway, once Dumbledore realizes what he has done.”

Harry stood, turning quickly to face his avowed enemy. “Still wondering about the Prophecy, Voldemort, or is there something else…”

“Silence, Potter, your mere existence irks me, and I find you are unfinished business.” A jet of green light shot out of Voldemort’s wand.

Harry spun and disappeared, reappearing several feet to the left, towards the forest, laughing just to incense his foe. Where was everyone? What had happened to the teams of Aurors who surely should have been in place by now? Snape still had not moved, and Harry was afraid the death curse might have hit him a glancing blow. “It is too bad you did not hear the Prophecy, Voldemort, you might rethink your plans. Nothing you can do will change the fact that I am the one with the power to vanquish you!”

“You are learning new tricks, Potter, but in the end, nothing will save you, Prophecy or not.” Another jet of green light shot towards him and Harry dove to the side.

A hard hand grabbed Harry by the arm and yanked him upright. “I have him, My Lord!” came Lucius Malfoy’s voice.

“STUPEFY!” Harry aimed his wand over his shoulder. The grip released him and stumbled to the side, falling. He whirled around, dropping to a crouch. Pointing his wand at the figure on the ground, Harry muttered: “Petrificus Totalus!” Malfoy froze, and Harry dove again.

Figures were appearing all along the edge of the Forbidden Forest, running towards them, and Harry could not tell in the shadowy stillness who was who. He could see Snape’s crumpled form still on the ground 5 feet away, unmoving, but could not see Voldemort. His scar throbbed painfully, so he knew the Dark Lord was still nearby. He stood and spun to disappear, reappearing next to Snape. Around him he could hear the sounds of dueling pairs, and knew that the Aurors had finally arrived.

“Kill them both!” Harry heard Voldemort scream, and his head exploded in pain. He whipped his wand in a circular motion and sent out a steam of red from his wand tip. Grabbing the invisibility cloak from where it was tied around his waist, Harry threw it over Snape, concealing the Potions Master, and he spun again, this time not moving. Reappearing, Harry saw that the sun was now up enough to illuminate the figures fighting on the grass.

Three black-cloaked, hooded figures were now standing within feet of them, all looking the other way, waiting for him to reappear, Harry guessed, as he pressed his watch. The figure closest to him turned, only to catch a jet of purple blaster in the chest from off to Harry’s right. Harry saw the second one turn toward him.

“STUPEFY!” Harry shouted, and the figure dropped. The remaining figure turned swiftly, and pain exploded again in his scar. Dropping to his knees, he swiftly pressed a finger to his watch, and saying an incantation under his breath, Harry whipped a golden shield in front of him.

“Do you truly think you can shield yourself against me, Potter? Do you think yourself a match for the greatest wizard of all?” Voldemort sneered as he took a step toward Harry, brushing his hood back from the skeletal white gaunt, snakelike face, the scarlet snake slit pupils gleaming horribly.

“Albus Dumbledore is the greatest wizard ever!” yelled Harry, holding the shield tightly, keeping it between them, his head searing.

A soft breeze lifted the hair on his forehead, and there was a flash of flame in front of him, as Fawkes appeared there, his gold and scarlet feathers gleaming in the early morning sunlight. Harry desperately felt around on the ground, looking for Snape, finally finding an ankle. Grabbing it, Harry waved the shield away and lunged for Fawkes, grabbing a handful of long tail feathers, his wand still in his hand.

“My young friend flatters me, Tom, but you are very ill-advised to come seeking him at Hogwarts. And it is a mistake you will not make again.” Albus Dumbledore’s voice spoke from right beside where Harry knelt.

Harry looked up, just as Fawkes flapped his long wings, lifting Harry and Snape, still covered by the invisibility cloak, easily from the ground. As if in slow motion, Harry heard Voldemort shout as he realized what was happening, and saw a flash of green light before everything went dark.

“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.”

Afterwards, Harry was not quite sure what had happened. One minute he was lying in a hospital bed, and the next he was floating along in a chair between his godfather and Mr. Weasley, covered with his invisibility cloak. Tonks, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were waiting in the Gryffindor common room, with Bill and Mrs. Weasley. Remus allowed Harry to be tucked onto a couch, propped up on several pillows, after he promised to eat something from the piles of snacks, sandwiches and goodies laid out on a table.

As soon as Remus had turned away, Harry found himself buried under the weight of Hermione, Ginny, Tonks, and Mrs. Weasley. All four women hugged him gently, repeatedly. Ron stood guard behind the couch, still looking rather pale; he handed Harry a Chocolate Frog between the girls’ hugs. When they had all settled down, and seated themselves, Harry sipped on pumpkin juice and tried to find an appetite. Remus sat on the arm of the couch at Harry’s head, and Hermione sat by his legs, with Ron on the other arm. Everyone was talking at once, which Harry was thankful for, as no one seemed to require much from him. Bill and Tonks told everyone about watching what happened from the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where they where dueling with Death Eaters who had Apparated there.

“Just about the time we saw Fawkes swoop down, Hagrid appeared out of the forest. He saw You-know-who send that last curse at you, Harry, and went berserk. As he was plowing through a group of Death Eaters, Grawp came barreling out of the forest, and after that it was pretty one sided,” Bill finished with a chuckle.

“Where is Hagrid? He knows I’m okay, doesn’t he?” Harry asked anxiously, looking over his shoulder at Remus.

“Yes, Harry, he tiptoed in to see you in the hospital wing while you were sleeping,” Remus reassured him.

Molly Weasley had disappeared as Bill was speaking, and walked back into the common room with a tray holding a steaming bowl. She moved to the couch and set the tray across Harry’s leg.

“Here, Harry, dear. You need to eat something nourishing, so I made you a nice stew.” She stood there beaming at him until Harry picked up the spoon and took a bite. The stew was meaty and warm, and before he knew it, Harry had eaten half the bowl.

Hermione took the tray from him when he’d eaten as much as he could; Harry sat back and relaxed, listening to the conversation flowing around him fluidly. Bill and the Weasleys were headed back to Number 12 Grimmauld Place this afternoon, and Tonks would spend one last night in the girl’s dorms with Hermione and Ginny. The rest of the Hogwarts Auror squad would take up residency in the Shrieking Shack in the morning. Everyone else had already left, escorting Death Eaters to Azkaban Prison, or returning to the Ministry of Magic.

Harry settled back on his pillows with Hermione sitting against his leg, a reassuring hand on his knee. Ron was next to her, still perched on the arm of the chair, describing how Harry held Snape aloft by his ankle. Ginny was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, laughing, and Harry could feel Remus’ hand on the pillow at the top of his head. Content, his stomach now full, and his eyelids heavy, Harry dropped off to sleep.

“Harry.”

Sirius Black’s voice, deep and husky, wrapped itself around Harry’s mind, and Harry found himself back in the Death Chamber at the Department of Mysteries. He walked slowly towards the ancient archway with its tattered black veil at the end of the raised stone dais in the center of the room. He sat down next to it, on the stone surface.

“Hi, Sirius.”

“How are you, Harry? Have you already fought Voldemort?” Sirius sounded anxious.

“Yes, just. It was this morning at dawn, I went out with Snape.” Harry sighed heavily. “I survived Voldemort this morning, Sirius, but Snape will probably kill me now.”

“Why, Harry, what happened?”

Harry relayed to his godfather what had happened that morning, glossing over the Avada Kedavra curse that had hit him, and emphasizing the sight of Severus Snape hanging by his ankle in the Gryffindor common room. Sirius roared with laughter, even as Harry expressed concerns of his continued wellbeing, especially when studying Potions.

“Go ahead and laugh,” Harry said darkly. “He can’t poison you.”

Sirius let out a bark of laughter. “Nope, he sure can’t. Now, tell me again about the curse hitting you, Harry, and why exactly you aren’t dead?”

It was Harry’s turn to chuckle. “I was afraid you’d pick up on that. Voldemort didn’t like it when Fawkes showed up, and hit me with the Avada Kedavra curse as we flew up towards the tower. I do have some scorch marks on my shoulders and the back of my head, but no other injuries. Dumbledore thinks that the protection my mum gave me when she died is still protecting me.”

Sirius was silent for several heartbeats. “That is pretty amazing, Harry, but the power of love is very, very strong. It has been known to make miraculous things happen.”

“I think Dumbledore said something like that to me in June, when he told me about the Prophecy,” Harry said thoughtfully.

“I can imagine he did, Harry, as I am well aware of how deeply you love. It is one of the reasons you can still talk to me here.” The warmth of Sirius’ voice wrapped around Harry.

“Remus says you are haunting him. Is it really you, or just his nightmares?” Harry asked laughing.

“Maybe I should just let that be a mystery to you, Harry, to keep you honest. And you can tell Moony I said, well done!”

“I will, he’ll appreciate that. I think today was hard on him, Sirius.”

“He was watching and saw you get hit, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, with Ron, Hermione and Ginny.”

“Ouch, that must have been bloody hard to watch, Harry! Let us hope that things settle down now for the school term, okay?”

“Yes, Sirius, I’ll do my best to be a good boy.”

Harry could still hear Sirius’ bark of a laugh in his mind, even as a hand on his forehead brought him awake. He opened his eyes slowly to see Remus leaning over him, hand still on his head. Harry smiled up at him sleepily.

“Harry, the Weasleys are getting ready to leave. I’m sorry to wake you, but I knew you’d want to say goodbye.”

Nodding, Harry moved to sit up, noticing that everyone had moved to the entrance of the common room, hugging one another. With Remus’ help, he stood up; to his surprise, his knees were a bit shaky.

“It’s to be expected, Harry, that being hit with a killing curse might weaken you a little!” Remus assured him ironically as he helped steady his godson with an arm around the shoulder. They slowly made their way around the side of the couch before they were noticed. Everyone came back to hug Harry and say goodbye, even Bill and Mr. Weasley.

The common room seemed unnaturally quiet after their departure. Remus settled Harry back on to the couch and Harry nestled into the pillows, his head still tender, and his scar achy. He was unsettled, restless even, but didn’t know why. Ron and Hermione hurried back in through the portrait hole, and Harry was glad to see them. Remus watched as they settled themselves next to Harry, and left them to look after the patient, going in search of Dumbledore.

“Alright, Harry?” Ron asked, still looking on the pale side.

“I don’t know,” Harry answered truthfully. “I’m not sure exactly how to feel.”

Hermione pinned him with a questioning gaze. “Because you escaped being killed by Voldemort again, or because Snape is going to kill you the first chance he gets?”

“Both, actually.” Harry grinned at her. “It is a bit weird to think that the greatest dark wizard of all time has hit me twice with a killing curse, and I’m still walking around. I hope no one else tries it!”

“I don’t know, Harry, not many others would even try it, after Voldemort failed. I think we ought to get hold of Rita Skeeter and let her write another article,” Hermione said, looking thoughtful.

“Forget Vo..Voldemort,” Ron stuttered the name with a shudder. “You need to concentrate on Snape, mate! When he hears what happened, you will be a dead man!”

Harry looked at his best friends; both were tired and pale, but grinning from ear to ear. He grinned back conspiratorially. “I wonder if there was a way to make out that I meant to pick him by the ankle, not that it was the only thing I had time to grab when Fawkes showed up.”

“I think Rita would write it anyway you told her to, Harry. Think of the money she could make from an exclusive interview.” There was a mischievous gleam in her big brown eyes. “Might as well be murdered as a legend, Harry!”

“I’m not sure anyone will believe the truth; bloody hell, who’d have thought he’d be wearing silk underpants, pink no less!” Ron said, and then lost it completely, rolling on the floor laughing.

Hermione and Harry looked at each other and started laughing as well. It felt like it had been forever since they’d been able to laugh, and now they could not stop. Every time one of them slowed down, all it took was eye contact with one of the others and they were all lost in fresh gales of laughter again. Harry had a stitch in his side from laughing, but still could not stop; worries and concerns seemed to slide away with their laughter, at least briefly. Ginny walked in and looked at them in concern, but between the three of them, they got out enough for her to understand, and she was soon laughing just as hard.

Their laughter rang through Gryffindor Tower, and anyone passing outside might have questioned their sanity, Harry thought as he caught his breath, feeling wonderfully young again. He knew he had not laughed like that in a very long time, since before Sirius had died. Harry also knew that neither of his godfathers would think less of him for it. In fact, if Remus was within earshot, he was probably glad to hear their hilarity. With a feeling of wellbeing, Harry watched with a grin as his friends continued to succumb to fits of giggles.

That was how Remus found them when he returned to the common room, still hiccupping with laughter, tears streaming down their faces. He laughed just looking at them, their faces flushed red and eyes glowing.

“Now, that’s more like it! You lot have been awfully serious lately. It’s good to hear you laugh.” He smiled as he sat down on the arm of the couch. Ron still sat on the floor, Hermione was sprawled across Harry’s legs at the other end of the couch, and Ginny in a chair next to Ron.

Harry waggled his fingers, summoning a Chocolate Frog so that it skimmed Ron’s hair as it flew from the table.

“Hey!” Ron bellowed as he lunged for the frog, and Harry caught it smoothly. Ron turned toward the table, waved his hand, saying “Accio frog!” He almost fell over when a Chocolate Frog actually flew into his hand.

The rest of the afternoon past quickly, with the friends talking about the start of term and the other students arriving the next day. Remus was a silent, but reassuring presence as they discussed the classes that they would be taking, and Ginny bemoaned the fact that this was her O.W.L. year. They asked Remus about Rita Skeeter, sniggering as they did, and he promised to mention it to Dumbledore.

“I forgot to tell you, Remus, that Sirius says he is pleased that he is haunting your dreams!” Harry said with a grin, tilting his head up to look at him.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Did he really? And when did you have this conversation?”

“This afternoon when I fell asleep, just before everyone left,” Harry told him. “He laughed at me when I asked him about it!”

The portrait swung open and Albus Dumbledore appeared with Madam Pomfrey. Ron jumped up off the floor and brushed off the seat of his pants. The nurse was holding a goblet in her hand as she came bustling up to Harry, handing it to Hermione as she fussed over Harry. Remus stood and moved to the Headmaster, with whom he started a quiet conversation, no doubt telling him of Harry’s conversation with Sirius.

Without warning, excruciating pain exploded in Harry’s scar, and he went rigid with agony. The room faded around him, the black chasm opening as he lost consciousness, falling into the depths. He became aware that he was on his knees, retching, as the world spun and his stomach lurched again. Hands lifted him back up to the couch; he was aware that Remus held him in a tight grip, and the long, cool fingers of Albus Dumbledore soothed his forehead. Harry concentrated with all his might on the single thrilling note of Phoenix song that sounded in his mind.

“Harry?” Dumbledore’s voice was gentle, his fingers softly stroking Harry’s burning scar, calming him.

Harry could feel Hermione taking one of his fists and smoothing it between her hands, and he struggled to open his eyes. The room had stopped moving and Dumbledore was bending over him, sitting beside Harry on the edge of the couch. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry caught sight of Madame Pomfrey. Her hands were clasped to her face in horror and surprise, having never witnessed one of his “attacks”.

“Professor…he’s just found out…a wizard…Madame Pomfrey told him…” Harry took a breath, his scar still searing white-hot at regular intervals.

“Poppy?” Dumbledore looked towards the nurse, standing on the opposite side of the couch. “Have you told anyone about what happened to Harry today?”

Madame Pomfrey appeared stricken, visibly shaken. “I sent an owl to the top medi-wizard at the Ministry of Magic, Headmaster, asking for some advice on the best way to treat Harry, as no one has ever survived being hit with a killing curse.”

“It would seem that you have inadvertently sent that news to a Death Eater, Poppy. Well, at least that makes one more that we know about,” Dumbledore said grimly. “I am sure that Kingsley will know how to deal with the man.”

“He’s really, really angry…and knows he won’t be able to get to me here. But…” Harry took a deep breath, willing his churning stomach to calm. “I think he still believes that Snape, er, Professor Snape is dead.” Harry looked wildly at Dumbledore, a question in his eyes.

“Calm yourself, Harry, Severus is fine.” Dumbledore smiled at him, a twinkle in his eye. “Well enough to ask exactly what happened, as I believe he has flashes of memory of the flight into Gryffindor Tower.”

Harry gulped, and the others laughed at the expression on his face.

Dumbledore smiled, drew his hand down Harry’s face, as if to feel for a fever, before removing it, and standing up. “I need to get down to dinner and speak to the teachers, but I will be back up later. Drink your potion, Harry, and I have food coming up for everyone.”

Harry eyed the blue potion in the goblet that had ended up set hastily on the table near the couch. “That wizard didn’t tell you what to put in the stuff I’ve been drinking, did he?” he asked the nurse.

“Oh no, Harry, that is a general restorative potion.” Pomfrey was horrified at the thought of deliberate mistreatment.

Harry obediently drank the potion and handed the goblet back to the nurse, and Dumbledore swept her from the room. Sitting up a little higher on the pillows, he gently tugged his hand free from Hermione’s grip, trying to work feeling back into his fingers. Hermione grinned at him sheepishly and tucked a blanket more firmly around him. Ginny climbed on the arm at the other end of the couch, as Remus resumed his seat by Harry, his hand lingering on the top of his head.

“Are you done being sick all over the place, Harry?” Ron asked as he used his wand to clear up the mess in the common room.

“Well, I hope so.” Harry grimaced, his scar still throbbing painfully.

“At least this time you threw up before dinner, Harry. No need to completely waste good food.”

Ron never saw the pillow that nailed him.

The teenagers enjoyed a leisurely meal in front of the crackling fireplace in the common room. Remus had joined the teachers in the Great Hall as soon as the kids had settled in, leaving them with a last glance at Harry. It had been hard on his friends, Harry realized, to watch the morning events from the sidelines, feeling helpless; he compensated for their rough morning by indulging Hermione and Ginny as they fussed over him. Hermione had taken Remus’ place on the arm of the couch by his head, and Ginny sat on a cushion in front of the couch. Harry found that he could even, accidentally-on-purpose, brush her vibrant red hair with his fingers, as it lay fanned across the edge of his blanket.

“It is going to be weird to not be on the Hogwarts Express tomorrow when it pulls out of Kings Cross,” Ron said, pushing the rest of his treacle tart away, his stomach comfortably full.

“I hope Malfoy searches the whole bloody train three times looking for us,” Ginny replied, vindictively. “He’s going to get a shock when he sees us here.”

“Stupid git,” Harry remarked. “Always has to get his threats in, doesn’t he?”

“Oh, I think he may be more than surprised, as his father was one of those taken away this morning,” Hermione said with a smug smile.

The lightning bolt scar throbbed painfully, and Harry grimaced. He was surprised when he felt Hermione’s soft warm fingers lay across it, he tilted his head up questioningly, and she smiled down at him.

“It might make it feel better if I rub it, Harry, your hand seems to be busy,” Hermione leaned down and whispered in his ear. Harry just grinned.

Ron started talking about Gryffindor’s chances of winning the Quidditch Cup this year, with Harry back on the team, Ginny as a chaser, and, of course, himself as keeper. Ginny flashed him a grin over her shoulder and leaned back, covering his fingers with soft, silky hair. Hermione chuckled softly, and pretended to actually be interested in what Ron was saying. Harry was warm and comfortable, his full stomach making him drowsy, and he dozed off.

“Harry?” Remus woke him with a hand on his head. “Madame Pomfrey is here with your potion.”

Harry opened his eyes, and sat up. Looking around, he found the nurse and Professor Dumbledore standing beside the couch with Remus, but no sign of his friends. “Where is everyone?” he asked sleepily.

“I sent them up to bed, Harry. They were all sitting here struggling to keep their eyes open. It has been a long, hard day.” His godfather gave him a pointed look.

“How are you feeling, Harry?” Dumbledore sat down beside him.

“Mainly just tired, Professor. My head is still throbbing, but I guess that is to be expected.” He looked up into the bright blue eyes. “How is Professor Snape?”

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled merrily back at him. “He is going to be just fine, Harry. Madame Pomfrey has released him to his chambers for the night, and he will be well enough to greet the returning students tomorrow night. Severus doesn’t clearly remember anything after you knocked him out of the path of the first killing curse, just some flashes of images.” He peered over the top of his glasses and leaned toward Harry. “He was a bit intrigued at how he sustained bruises around his ankle, though, and I did have to tell him that he had been rescued by you, with a grip on his ankle.”

Harry closed his eyes and slumped back on the pillow. “I’m dead,” he groaned. He heard Remus chuckle softly; his eyes flew open, and he sent his godfather a filthy look, which just made Remus laugh harder.

“Drink your potion, Harry, and go up to bed.” Dumbledore instructed with a smile. “I would imagine you will need your rest for tomorrow.” He laid a hand on Harry’s arm. “I must again impress on you the need to be extremely careful, Harry. With the return of the other students, we must anticipate that there will be some who are loyal to Lord Voldemort.”

“Yes, Professor, I will be.” Harry took the goblet from Madame Pomfrey and drained it in one gulp.

With Remus’ help, Harry went up to the dormitory and climbed into his four-poster. He felt better than he had, his knees less shaky than that afternoon, but his head still achy. Ron’s steady snores sounded from the next bed, and Harry settled in, quickly falling back to sleep.

Bright sunlight flooded through the dormitory window when Harry opened his eyes the next morning. Ron was still sleeping, and Harry dressed quietly, pleased that his legs did not shake as he left the room. The Gryffindor common room was tidy and empty as he walked through it, headed for the portrait hole. Harry made his way down to the Great Hall, meeting no one on the way.

The four house tables and the staff table had been already set up when Harry walked in, a lone figure dressed in black the only occupant. Harry stopped short just inside the door. Harry fought the instinct to turn and run from the room, from Professor Snape, and sat down as far away as possible. The staff table was the only one set for breakfast, which put Harry much closer than he wanted to be. He fervently hoped that Snape would just ignore his presence, as he had done all summer.

“Mr. Potter.”

Harry closed his eyes. Apparently not.

“Professor Snape?” Harry turned his head toward the Potions Master.

“You knocked me out of the way yesterday morning, when the Dark Lord tried to kill me, why?” Snape’s unreadable dark eyes pierced him, burning into Harry’s bright green eyes.

Harry was dumbfounded, and found he could not look away. Of all the things he had envisioned Snape asking, this wasn’t it. “Because the curse would have killed you, sir.”

“You hate me, Potter. You loathe me. You believe that I am partially responsible for the death of your godfather. Why would you save me, Potter?” There was no sneer to Snape’s quiet voice, no hint of sarcasm, just question. “Not once but twice, according to the Headmaster. Why?”

Harry held Snape’s eyes, and answered as truthfully as he could. “No one deserves to die like that, at Voldemort’s hand. My parents did not deserve to die like that, nor did Cedric Diggory. You are a Hogwarts teacher, a member of the Order, and Dumbledore trusts you. I could not stand by and let you be killed, if there was anyway to prevent it.”

“Even though you placed your own life in jeopardy? The Headmaster said that you were struck by the Avada Kedavra curse as the Phoenix was lifting us to the castle, but it did not kill you.” The dark eyes had taken on a strange glitter.

Harry broke eye contact, looking down at his plate. “I don’t know exactly what happened. I know I grabbed Fawkes, and felt around on the ground for you, as you were under the invisibility cloak. I finally found your ankle and grabbed it.” He met Snape eyes without flinching. “I did what I needed to do.”

There was an arrested look on Snape’s face. “By my ankle?” He seemed to digest this information for a moment. “And I was covered by your invisibility cloak.”

“Yes.” Harry stated emphatically “At least, the last I remember you were.”

A platter of sausages and bacon appeared in front of Harry, as did a platter of eggs, flagons of milk and orange juice, and steaming bowls of porridge. Harry began to fill his plate with food, suddenly hungry; he really hoped that Snape was done asking questions, and he distracted himself by selecting his breakfast. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see the man hesitate for a moment, still staring at him, before turning back to his own plate.

They ate in silence for several minutes, and then Harry heard the sound of running footsteps coming down the marble staircase into the Great Hall. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny strolled sedately into the room, their faces flushed and breathing hard.

“Good morning, Professor Snape. Good morning, Harry,” they sang out together as they seated themselves protectively around Harry.

Ron leaned toward him, acting like he was grabbing the platter of eggs, and whispered. “You’re still alive, then?”

“Yeah, but it was definitely weird,” Harry whispered back, passing the bacon to him as well. “I don’t think he has quite worked it out yet. So, I’m good until one of the other teachers makes some remark about his underwear!”

Ginny and Hermione stifled giggles; Ron’s mouth was too full already for speech, so he nodded enthusiastically. Teachers started to filter into the Hall, and the mutter of conversation grew louder. Professor McGonagall put her hand on Harry’s shoulder as walked passed, patting it softly. Remus, still looking pale and tired, paused in the entrance, his eyes searching for Harry before he entered.

Harry leaned over and whispered to Hermione. “We need to check on the Wolfsbane Potion, Hermione.” This was said with a significant look at his godfather.

“It’s done, and he has already begun drinking it,” Hermione said under her breath. Harry gave her an appreciative smile.

“Harry, how are you?” Remus asked as he took a seat next to Hermione.

“Fine, Remus, I slept really well,” Harry said, passing Remus the flagon of orange juice. “You don’t look very rested this morning.”

Remus smiled. “Nightmares will do that to you, Harry, especially ones filled with killing curses and angry black dogs.”

“Sirius doesn’t blame you, Remus! He told me so!” Harry exclaimed, appalled that Remus would even think so.

Remus leaned forward and laid a hand on Harry’s arm. “I know, Harry, but Padfoot always did say he would haunt me, you know.” He smiled. “Now, what mischief do you lot have planned for your last morning of summer holiday?”

The teenagers looked at each other blankly, they hadn’t had a lot of time for fun lately. “Can we going flying, Remus?” Ginny asked hopefully.

“Well, I don’t see why not. Maybe I will grab a school broom and join you.”

“That would be great! You and Hermione can be beaters!” Ron said eagerly.

“I think we’ll leave the bludgers where they are, Ron. We’ll just all test your skills as keeper by all being chasers!” Remus told him with a laugh.

“Harry, how are you?” Harry had not noticed Albus Dumbledore come into the Great Hall, and looked up to find him standing beside his, blue eyes twinkling and a smile that twitched at the corners.

“I feel fine, Professor, really! Is it okay if we go down to the Quidditch pitch this morning to practice?”

“That is an excellent idea, but you must allow Madame Pomfrey one last look at you first.”

Harry slid out of his chair. “I’ll go up right now while everyone is finishing, alright?” He flashed them a smile. “I will meet you back in the common room.” He practically sprinted from the Great Hall.

Harry had just darted out into the Entrance Hall, heading toward the Infirmary without glancing around toward the marble staircase, when he was suddenly lifted off his feet.

“Harry! What do ya think yer doin’?” Hagrid towered over him. “Ya almost died yesterday, ya should not be runnin’ like that!” He set Harry back on his feet and then swept him into a rib-cracking hug.

Harry staggered back when Hagrid released him, grinning up at him. “I’m fine, Hagrid, really! Dumbledore told me that you and Grawp were brilliant yesterday!”

Hagrid’s cheeks grew red with pleasure. “I guess I lost me temper when I saw tha’ curse hit ya, Harry, and Grawp jes’ followed me.” His eyes grew misty. “I was sure ya were dead, Harry.”

“I’m just going up the hospital wing to see Madame Pomfrey and then we are going down to the Quidditch pitch. Maybe you can come down and watch?”

“Alright, hurry up then.” Hagrid waved him off as he went in to breakfast.

Madame Pomfrey clucked over him, and made him drink one last goblet of restorative potion before sending him off with a warning to be careful. Harry found the others ready and waiting in the common room, including Remus, who had just finished a goblet of smoking Wolfsbane Potion. Harry ran up to the dormitory to get his Firebolt, and they set off.

The day was perfect for Quidditch: sunny and warm, the sky a deep, cloudless blue, a soft breeze blowing across the pitch. Harry kicked off from the ground hard, and soared straight up into the air, the wind whipping through his hair. The feeling of exhilaration that he always felt when he flew took hold and Harry sped around the goal posts, rolling, diving, and looping the field several times. Ron and Ginny caught up with him and laughed as they tried to match his antics as they zoomed down the field. Remus and Hermione joined them, riding school brooms, and Remus carried a red quaffle, which he threw to Ron, who threw it to Ginny. Ginny lobbed it at Harry, making it fall short of him so that he had to take the Firebolt into a dive to catch it.

Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt flew over, taking a break from their patrol of the grounds. Remus produced several golf balls, which he tossed, making Harry chase them down. Ron was put through his paces, with Hermione showing promise as a chaser, managing to get two balls past Ron for goals. Ginny was light and quick, sure-handed with the quaffle, and Harry knew she was going to make an excellent chaser. At one point, Remus caught him sitting and watching Ginny fly, and he winked, flashing him a thumbs up.

It was a light-hearted group that made its way back to the castle at lunchtime. As they clambered up the steps to the Entrance Hall, Professor Dumbledore greeted them.

“The Hogwarts Express is on its way. It departed Kings Crossing without incident.” He smiled at their faces glowing. “Well done, all of you.” Dumbledore moved to stand beside Harry, his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “We will all be busy with the start of the new term, but this is not the time to let down our guard. Harry, you must continue to practice all that you have learned, but quietly, in secret. The Room of Requirement will be available to you whenever you need it. I ask you three, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, to help him, and to practice your new skills as well. Returning members of the DA can also be taught, but do not show them too much, Harry.” Dumbledore looked down at him, the clear blue eyes piercing over the top of the half-moon spectacles. “It would not do to tip our hand to someone with ties to the Dark Lord.”

Harry nodded. “Are we going to continue our lessons, Professor?”

”Yes, Harry, both Remus and I will continue teaching you, as time and your classes permit.” Dumbledore smiled at all of them. “You have all accomplished much over the summer, and I am very proud of all of you. The war for the magical world has started, and I am afraid that it will touch many of the students in Hogwarts. You all have been on its front lines these last few weeks, and have done well.” His bright blue eyes twinkled. “And after watching you, I believe that Gryffindor may have a chance at the Quidditch Cup again this year!”

Their spirits high, the teenagers made their way up to the Gryffindor Tower to put away their broomsticks before going down to lunch. Coming down from the dormitory to the common room, Harry hesitated on the last step, catching sight of Ginny peering out of the window, the sunlight bringing out golden highlights in her gleaming red hair. He walked down to stand behind her, his hand seemed to move of its own accord to stroke his fingers through the softness of her hair. Ginny looked over her shoulder at him with a smile.

“It’s a beautiful day, don’t you think, Harry?” she asked, sounding a little breathless.

Harry continued to look at her and smiled. “Yes, beautiful.”

“Will you two come on, I’m starved,” Ron interrupted loudly, standing with Hermione across the room.

Harry grabbed Ginny’s hand and they walked toward them. The expression on Ron’s face was comical, the tips of his ears were turning red at the sight of Harry holding his sister’s hand, but a lopsided grin told Harry that he wasn’t really opposed to the idea. Hermione managed to divert Ron’s attention by taking his hand, and leaning in to whisper something in his ear. Ron’s whole face was now as red as the tips of his ears, but his grin had turned somewhat silly. Hand in hand, the walked down to the Great Hall for lunch.

The afternoon sped by quickly, with the straightening of their dorms and laying out their school uniforms in readiness for the Welcoming Feast. Ron’s head disappeared under his bed, still searching for a missing pair of socks; finished, Harry walked down to the common room. He stood at the window for a moment, wondering idly where Remus had gotten to after lunch, before it dawned on him that his godfather was probably giving them some time by themselves. With a smile, Harry sat down in his favorite chair in front of the fireplace and closed his eyes, smoothing the walls in his mind and clearing his thoughts, filling his mind with happy thoughts of his friends.

A tentative hand on the top of his head brought him out of his Occlumency practice. Delicate fingers smoothed down the hairs that stood up at the back of his head. Harry sat, unmoving, enjoying the caress, as the fingers danced around to play with the tendrils of hair that fell across his forehead. He felt them hesitate briefly, then a fingertip traced the lightning-shaped scar.

“Does it hurt right now?” Ginny’s quiet voice asked.

“No, not right at this moment,” Harry said, opening his bright green eyes to look up into Ginny’s warm brown ones.

Reaching up, he grabbed the errant fingers and tugged on them. Ginny lost her balance and fell over the arm of the chair, ending up sprawled in Harry’s lap. His arms wrapped around her to keep her from falling further. Ginny leaned against him, snuggling in and tucking her head in the crook of his neck. Her warm weight felt good, and her hair had a clean fragrance, and Harry could not help but bury his nose in it.

“When I watched that curse hit you yesterday, Harry, my heart stopped. I knew then that it wasn’t the Boy-Who-Lived that I would miss, nor my brother’s best friend, but Harry. It was Harry, the sweet, brave, and wonderful person that I have grown to like very much, who I would miss most of all. I am very glad that you are alright.” Ginny told him, looking up shyly.

Harry’s stomach lurched and he wasn’t sure his throat would work if he tried to speak. He leaned down and kissed her. It was glorious.

“I’m glad ,too,” Harry said rather breathlessly, looking down into her bemused eyes.

Approaching voices had Ginny and Harry scrambling apart, and both their faces were a brilliant red as Ron and Hermione came into the common room, arguing as usual. The afternoon passed rapidly, with the friends playing wizard chess and exploding snap, much as they would have if they had been on the Hogwarts Express. Sweets and butterbeers were delivered by a smiling Remus Lupin, who patted Harry’s shoulder before leaving them. Hermione started a fire in the fireplace with a snap of her fingers, making the others grin. Soon, sweets were flying around the room, which echoed with the sound of their laughter.

Harry’s scar gave an enormous pulse of pain; the lightning shape seemed to burn white-hot on his forehead. Grabbing at his head, Harry clapped his hands to his head, turning his focus inward, smoothing the walls in his mind, clearing his thoughts. Awareness faded as he battled to manage the pain, grasping hard at happy thoughts of his friends. A hand grabbed his wrist and a trill of Phoenix song sounded; Harry concentrated on it gratefully, as it eased the terrible pain.

“Harry?” Albus Dumbledore’s voice sounded in his ear, and cool fingers were again laid across his forehead.

Harry opened his eyes, seeing that Remus had also appeared at his side. “Its okay, Voldemort is just really annoyed that his plans failed. The train is almost here.” He looked at them with the best smile he could muster. “I’m fine.”

Dumbledore looked down at him, blue eyes glittering over the half-moon spectacles and nodded. “Alright.” He looked at all of them. “If the train is almost here, you need to go up to your dormitory and change into your school robes.” He smiled at them. “I’m afraid your summer vacation is over.”