The dark room was bathed in red light, a small circle of black robed figures bowed as Harry looked down on them, a great snake curled around his feet.

“Master,” Said one of the figures, stepping closer. “I bring news of Hogwarts.”

“Speak,” Harry ordered the figure, his voice high and cold.

“The traitor Snape was blinded in the attack this morning, and will be easy prey when the students faithful to you return to Hogwarts. He lies now in the castle, weak and unseeing, but Dumbledore has been told of young Malfoy’s trickery this morning and will be too watchful for another attempt.”

“And?” Harry sneered down at the bowed figure.

The spy hesitated. “And I can confirm that was Harry Potter and his two friends that accompanied the traitor this morning.”

Harry felt rage building in him. “Potter again! That boy has caused me more than enough problems, I grow very weary of his meddling! I want him dead!”

“Yes, Master, I may have a way to accomplish that soon, as Dumbledore is a trusting old fool and I may be able to get into Hogwarts myself.”

“Very good,” Harry was happy with this news, but still enraged at the blunder his Death Eaters had made that morning. “MacNair!”

A Death Eater crept forward on his knees. “Master, I did not know it was Potter…”

“CRUCIO!”

Harry cried with grim delight, and watched the figure writhe and scream on the ground. The screams continued to echo around him as his head exploded in white-hot pain, his walls in his mind holding as flame slammed into them.

“Harry!”

A strong voice reached through the haze and pain swirling in his head. Gently but firm hands steadied his head, slid down his face and neck to his shoulders, and he was pulled against a warm chest. He struggled for a second, the arms unfamiliar, but the voice was familiar, unusual for being soft and comforting, and he sank in to the warmth, reassured. Feeling safe, Harry turned inward, smoothing the walls the protected his mind, checking for any breech. He struggled to master the churning in his stomach and trembling in his limbs.

“Harry! Professor, what’s wrong?” Harry heard Ron’s voice next to him.

“A nightmare, I believe, I could hear him thrashing about before he screamed. Can you press a finger to the watch on his arm, Weasley? And grab a basin, as he seems to…”

“Throw-up, yeah, I know, sir,” Ron said as Harry felt a hand on his wrist, and the familiar trill of Phoenix song in his mind soothed the hard edge of agony. The bed gave behind him, and a hand gently rubbed his back. “It seems to help him calm down, if he can feel someone with him.”

Harry drew in a deep shuttering breath, the pain still pulsing through his head, and tried to sit up, when his stomach finally lost its tedious hold on its contents. He frantically tried to push away, but two sets of hands held him firm as he retched in to a basin. He rested the side of his head for a moment against what he knew now was Snape’s chest, gathering his strength, when the doors at the far end of the room burst open, and he could hear footsteps hurrying towards them.

“Severus! What happened?” Harry could feel Dumbledore’s long cool fingers lay across the searing scar on his forehead. The hand that brushed the top of his head belonged to Remus, he knew.

“I was asleep when Harry called out, and as I got to his bed, he started screaming. I believe he had another vision of the Dark Lord,” Snape’s voice was soft in his ear, and Harry realized he was still leaning on the other man.

“Prof…spy…” Harry drug himself into a sitting position. “Voldemort…was talking to the spy...” He took a deep breath, trying to stop his spinning head and churning stomach. “You need to see…”

A goblet of water was held to his lips and Harry took a drink of the cool water, letting it slid down his dry throat. He managed to open his eyes, as Ron slid off the bed and handed him his glasses from the bedside table, before sitting on the chair. Dredging up a small smile, Harry looked at his best friend worried face.

“Thanks, Ron,” Harry put his hand on the Potion Master’s arm. “I’m sorry I woke you, Professor, but thank you for being here.”

Snape turned his head toward Harry, what could almost be called a smile for him, tugged at one corner of his mouth. “Do you recall this summer when you woke me in my chambers, Harry?”

Harry frowned, a feeling of apprehension coming over him. “Yes, sir.”

“You did the same thing tonight, except that it wasn’t directed at me, specifically.”

Confused, Harry let Remus help him to lie back on his pillows, while Dumbledore assisted Snape back to his bed. Remus left the hospital wing to get the Pensieve from the Headmaster’s office, as Madame Pomfrey came out to exam her patients. Hermione had thankfully managed to sleep through Harry’s nightmare, and was fine. Everyone was silent as she went about her work, making both Harry and Snape drink a potion before telling them all to go to sleep, and returning to her office.

“That is interesting, Severus, that Harry is powerful enough to be able to summon a select few in the time of crisis, you join Remus, Fawkes, and me,” Dumbledore picked up the conversation where they had stopped.

“You’re talking about me like I’m not here,” Muttered Harry grumpily, “and I think that I only ‘summoned’ Professor Snape because he was in the bed next to me.” Harry was uncomfortable with the idea that Snape would know whenever he had an attack. “I would hate to think that I am going to be bothering the Professor every time my scar twinges,” he struggled to keep any emotion from showing in his voice.

“Actually, Harry, I am more interested in learning how you are able to project yourself like you do, and whether you are able to project only to those who have had prior mind contact with you, as we have had with Occlumency and Legilimency training,” Dumbledore told him, as he handed Harry a goblet of water. “Harry, only the most powerful wizards are able to reach out and touch others minds, especially subconsciously.”

Remus walked back in to the hospital wing, Dumbledore’s Pensieve in his hands. Glancing at the nurse’s office, Dumbledore waved his wand once, and Harry suspected he’d just placed a silencing charm on them. Remus sat on the edge of Harry’s bed and steadied the Pensieve while Harry retrieved his wand from the bedside stand. Ron watched with avid interest as he watched Harry pull a shiny gossamer strand from his temple, having only heard about it from Harry.

Carefully dropping the strand into the swirling silvery liquid in the Pensieve, Harry prodded it with his wand and watched as the scene he had just witnessed unfolded. Dumbledore and Remus leaned in to watch, and Snape sat up straight, listening hard. Glancing at Ron, Harry could see that he was mesmerized by what he was seeing. The scene played through once, and Harry prodded the surface again when the Headmaster nodded at him. The scene played out again before him, reminding him that his head still throbbed with pain.

“I think its Warmuth, Professor Dumbledore!” Ron burst out, then flushing red.

“Augustus Warmuth, Ron, the Auror?” Remus asked in a surprised tone. “He was one of the searchers this afternoon in the forest.” He looked at Dumbledore.

“Yes, he was,” Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. “And in his position, he has access to Ministry information, as well as the Order.”

“Didn’t Kingsley bring him in to the Order, Headmaster, maybe he can provide us with additional information,” Snape spoke softly.

“Indeed, Severus, rest assured that I will be speaking to Kingsley,” Dumbledore had a calculating look on his face. “Do you have fresh Veritaserum on hand, Severus, if the need should arise?”

“Of course, Headmaster.” The Potions Master sounded affronted.

The next day after lunch, having been deemed healthy, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were allowed to leave the hospital wing and return to the Gryffindor common room. Much to Professor Snape’s displeasure, he was forced to remain, and scowled at them as best as he could give the circumstances as they bid him a cheerful goodbye. Hermione was still pale, and they ended up joining Ginny in the common room for a quiet afternoon, Ron beat Harry at chess while the girls watched, talking softly.

Just before dinnertime, Harry looked at his friends and stood up. “I’m going to stop by and see how Snape is doing before we go down to dinner,” he glanced from face to face, looking at the mixed reaction. “Do you want to go with me?”

Hermione stood immediately. “Sure, Harry, let’s go see how he is.”

“Bloody hell, Harry! Why in the world would you want to go see that greasy git?” Ron sputtered.

Hermione smacked him on the arm. “I can’t believe you just said that! Weren’t you in the clearing with us yesterday, Ronald Weasley? Didn’t you hear what those Death Eaters said, about being there to get Snape! When are you going to believe he’s on our side?”

The tips of Ron’s ears had turned red, and he stared at the floor. “Sorry,” he muttered sheepishly.

Harry chuckled at the look on his best friend’s face, and took Ginny’s hand as she walk to him. “This kind of makes him our ‘greasy git’, mate, especially when the students in his own House are trying to kill him.”

Meeting Ron’s eyes, Harry added soberly. “I may not like him very much, Ron, but I do trust Snape, and he has earned that.”

Ron nodded in agreement and clapped Harry on the back as they walked out the portrait hole.

The door to the hospital wing stood open when they approached and unconsciously, the teenagers tiptoed quietly to the doorway. Peering in, Harry could see the lone figure clad in black pajamas in a bed at the far end, sitting silently, his hand plucking restlessly at the blanket that covered him. To Harry it seemed like a very lonely gesture, and he could remember doing the same thing many times in his cupboard under the stairs. He looked at the others, and held up his hand.

“Ssshhhh!” Harry made the noise just loud enough for the Potions Master to hear and the results were instantaneous, Snape straightened up, crossed his arms across his chest and plastered a scowl across his face. Harry stifled a chuckle as he entered the room and walked over to the bed.

“Hello, Professor,” Harry stood beside the bed while the others stood at the end.

“Potter, is there a reason you are here disturbing my peace?” Snape sneered.

Harry grinned and Ginny clapped a hand over her mouth, Hermione punched Ron’s arm to keep him from laughing.

“Yes, sir, we were on our way to dinner and wanted to make sure you didn’t need anything.”

“I have everything I require, Mister Potter,” the older man’s head tilted up towards him, his tone softening slightly, the scowl still in place.

“Professor?” Hermione leaned on the end of the bed.

“Yes, Miss Granger?” Snape turned his head slightly.

“Madame Pomfrey told us this morning that she would be taking the bandage off your eyes tomorrow after lunch, and, well, we would like to be here, if that’s alright with you, sir,” Hermione finished her sentence in a rush, as if she was afraid she would lose her nerve if she didn’t.

The raven-haired man sat silently for a long moment, his face frozen in a half-hearted scowl. “If you have nothing better to occupy your time, Miss Granger, then I have…no objection to your presence”

When Harry and the others entered the Great Hall, they found everyone else gathered around the table they had used during the summer, set in the middle of the room. They quickly slipped into the empty seats, Harry sitting next to Remus with Ginny on his other side. Professor Dumbledore smiled at them as he clapped his hands, and dinner appeared before them. Harry watched his companions as he ate, Hermione and all the Weasleys still appeared pale to him, and he supposed he wasn’t any better. Madame Pomfrey ate quickly and excused herself, taking a tray back up for her patient.

“Professor Dumbledore?” Harry asked, an idea popping into his head.

“Yes, Harry?” The blue eyes twinkled at him over the half-moon spectacles.

He hesitated, not wanting to sound stupid. “What do wizards listen to? I mean like the radios Muggles have?”

“We have the wireless, Harry and the Wizard Wireless Network.” Dumbledore told him with a smile.

“Is there one of those here, Professor? I could take it up to Professor Snape, as he was just sitting there with nothing to do when we saw him before dinner.”

“An excellent idea, Harry, I will take him one when I go up to see him after dinner.”

The evening passed quietly for Harry, Ron and Hermione, with Ginny doing a remarkable imitation of her mother and herding them to bed as soon as Hermione yawned. Remus was surprised when he came up to check on them, finding Ron and Harry in their four-posters, playing exploding snap.

“Everything alright, Harry?” His godfather asked them, with a worried frown.

“We’re fine, Remus, but Molly Weasley Junior decided we needed to go to bed early.” Harry told him as Ron snorted.

“Ah, I see,” Remus chuckled, “she is your girlfriend, son.” Ron snorted.

Harry rolled his eyes at the older man, before tugging on his sleeve. With a jerk of his head, Harry got up and headed toward the common room. “Back in a second, mate.”

Once they had reached the privacy of the empty room, Harry whispered urgently. “I need to go into Hogsmeade, Remus.”

“I don’t think…” Remus started, but Harry cut him off.

“I have to get Ron something, and I thought if we went first thing in the morning, didn’t tell anyone and wore my cloak, it would be okay. Voldemort would never think that any of us would be out so soon after an attack. Please, Remus.”

The emerald green eyes pleaded with him, and Remus glared back, knowing he’d never be able to refuse a request from this teenager, who asked so little. “I’ll see what I can do, Harry.” He sighed.

The next morning had Remus and a blonde Tonks strolling into Hogsmeade hand in hand, the picture of lovers out for a stroll. Harry walked at Remus’ side, concealed by his invisibility cloak, with a grumbling Mad-Eye Moody under his own invisibility cloak, at Tonks side. Hogsmeade was quiet in the weak morning sunlight, a fresh blanket of snow glistening over the town, a few townsfolk moving around the empty streets.

The group moved toward the row of wizard shoppes that lined the main street. Harry slipped inside with Remus and Tonks, sliding out from under the cloak as they blocked the view of the storekeeper. Harry moved down the aisle, his eyes roving over the piles of wizard goods. It only took a few moments to find what he was looking for, a rich leather coin bag, scarlet trimmed in gold. Ron had never had a moneybag, as he’d never had money to put in one. Reaching over, he took it down from the shelf, and turned to head for the counter, when an object in the far corner of the store caught his eye. Making his way over, Harry saw that the item looked very old, a burnished silver basin with runes around the inner edge, and emerald green serpents engraved around the outer edge.

“A Pensieve!” Harry exclaimed, taking the object down and examining it closely. It was slightly smaller than Professor Dumbledore’s, but beautifully made. An idea took root in his mind, and acting on the impulse, he took the Pensieve and bought it too.

Remus and Tonks waited at the door as Harry paid for his purchases and moved to join them, when the door opened, admitting a short wiry wizard with lanky mud brown hair and cold black eyes. Harry’s eyes widened in recognition, as he found himself face to face with Voldemort’s spy.

“Warmuth.” Tonks spoke first, stepping around Harry, pushing his back into Remus, and diverting the man’s attention. “I thought you were on duty this morning.”

“Just taking a break, Tonks.” The man sneered at her, turning and continuing into the shop without a backward glance.

Remus hauled Harry bodily around the corner of the building, and shoved the cloak into Harry’s hands. “Apparate now, Harry, to the front gates!”

Harry Apparated immediately, running up the path to the front steps, where he waited nervously for Remus, who appeared several minutes later slightly out of breath. Taking one look at the tight closed expression on his godfather’s face, Harry figured that silence was best and followed him into the castle. He headed up to Gryffindor Tower to put away the gifts that he had bought.

After lunch, Harry led the way up to the hospital wing, with Hermione, Ron and Ginny. Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall were already standing with Madame Pomfrey, and Remus joined the group quietly a moment later. As Madame Pomfrey stood to the side of the bed, softly telling the Potions Master to keep his eyes closed until she told him to open them, she slowly unwrapped the scarf from his head. With a flick of her wand, the light in the room dimmed. Harry moved to the end of the bed, aware that he was holding his breath, Hermione and Ron flanking him.

“Alright, Severus, open your eyes slowly, and let me know if you feel any pain.”

Snape slowly opened his eyes, his arms crossed over his black clad chest as he leaned back on the pillows that propped into a sitting position. Blinking several times, he appeared to be looking straight ahead.

“It was unfortunate enough, Mister Potter, that you were the last thing I happened to see prior to being struck by that curse, must you be the first thing I see now?” Snape attempted to sneer, but couldn’t manage.

Hermione squealed and launched herself across the bed, giving the befuddled man a swift hug as he stared at her in amazement. “I am so glad that you are all right, Professor!” She bounced back up and retreated to the end of the bed.

“Miss Granger!” The normally stoic Potions Master sputtered. “For your…impulsiveness, ten points to Gryffindor!”

The frown that had started to erupt on Harry’s face turned to a surprised grin that was reflected in the faces of his friends. He watched gleefully as the normally sallow faced wizard flushed red, struggling to hold the scowl he had pasted on it. Professor McGonagall shooed them out of the room, her own stern lips twitching.

Christmas dawned in a blur of swirling white, dark clouds hung heavy with snow and the wind howled through the castle. Harry was rousted from a deep sleep by a squealing warmth that dove on to him and started kissing his face. Groggily, he pried open an eye, and saw a curtain of fiery red hair draped around his head.

“Erm…guess you like the locket?” Harry managed to ask between kisses.

“Oh, Harry, I love it!” Ginny threw her arms around his neck and buried her head in his neck.

“Ginny! Give the man some breathing room!!” Ron’s sleepy voice drifted over to them, and Harry could hear Hermione’s soft voice as well.

“Happy Christmas, Ron! Happy Christmas, Hermione!” Harry sat up as Ginny moved off him, and handed him his glasses. “Oy! Ron! Presents!” He exclaimed.

Harry looked at his pile of gifts at the end of his bed, amazed at the number of packages there. He threw back the curtains of his four-poster, as Hermione threw Ron’s back and came over to give him a big hug.

“Thank you for the lovely quill set, Harry, it is gorgeous!”

Harry and Ron began to unwrap their presents, starting with their new Weasley sweaters, a gold one with a row of scarlet Phoenixes flying along the bottom for Harry, and Ron, his usual maroon. Ron sighed heavily, and Harry chuckled as he grabbed another present. He opened a red leather-bound book on wandless magic from Hermione, a soft emerald green sweater from Ginny, a new magical pocketknife from Remus, and a box of all his favorite sweets from Ron, Fred, and George. He had picked up the last package, a small square box covered in golden paper, when he heard Remus coming up the stairs.

“Harry! Aren’t you out of bed yet?” His godfather said with a smile, taking in the scene that greeted him. He pulled his new pocket watch out, flipping it open and studying it intently. “I see it is time for breakfast,” he looked up, his light gray eyes full of pleasure. “It’s beautiful, Harry, thank you.”

“I’m glad you like it, Remus, I wanted something special for you,” Harry said, holding the last present in his hand.

“What do you have there, Harry?” Ginny asked, watching him examine the gold paper.

“I dunno, there’s no card with it,” Harry replied, turning the boxes over in his hands, puzzled.

“Harry, this is brilliant!” Ron shouted from the next bed, looking at his new moneybag, and jingling the coins inside. “Why did you put all these galleons in here?”

“Muggle tradition, Ronald, it is bad luck to give an empty wallet or moneybag as a gift,” Hermione explained in her best lecture style, as Ron rolled his eyes, and the rest of them laughed.

“Let me see that package, Harry,” Remus sat on the edge of the bed, and examined the box intently. He took his wand out and muttered an incantation, watching as the wand tip flared gold. Tucking his wand back inside his robes, Remus handed it back to his godson, his expression thoughtful. “No jinxes or hexes, in fact, it seems to have very strong good magic, whatever it is. I wonder who gave it to you.”

Harry slowly unwrapped the gold paper, finding a lush red velvet box inside. Opening that, Harry gasped as he saw an oval gold medallion the size of a galleon strung on a chain of gold link, a scarlet and gold Phoenix engraved on it. When Harry rubbed a finger over the medallion, the bird came to life, stretching its wings and preening. Harry swore he could feel the medallion grow warmer. Looking up at Remus, Harry handed him the box, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny came over to look over his shoulder at it.

“It’s beautiful, Harry, but I wonder who gave it to you? Interesting, though, the Phoenix stopped moving as soon as you took your finger off it,” Remus observed.

Harry leaned over and stroked the medallion, the Phoenix again moving as he touched it. Retrieving the box, Harry took the medallion out and slid it over his head, settling it around his neck and under his pajamas, feeling the medal warm against his skin.

The day passed swiftly, having invited the other remaining students to join them, the teenagers spent their time playing chess and exploding snap, talking, and just snuggling in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room. The blizzard still raged outside, the day perpetually dark as the thick snow fell. The enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall showed thick swirling snow clouds obscuring everything else. One of the long house tables had replaced the smaller round table, as the Aurors had been invited to share Christmas dinner with the staff and students.

Harry sat beside Ginny, her hand tucked into his, as they laughed and joked with Ron and Hermione across the table from them. He saw the Aurors enter the Hall, and didn’t look up until someone sat down beside him. Thinking it was his godfather, Harry turned with a smile, only to meet cold black eyes as he recognized the face of Augustus Warmuth. A wave of apprehension flooded through Harry and he saw that Remus sat down on the other side of Ginny, Albus Dumbledore across from Ginny, and Severus Snape across from Warmuth.

“Harry, Remus tells me you received an unusual Christmas gift this morning,” the Headmaster leaned across the table toward him.

“Yes, Professor, it is a beautiful Phoenix medallion!” Harry got up and moved around the table, pulling the medallion from under his clothing. “I really like it, I just don’t know who might have given it to me,” he leaned in close to Dumbledore, letting him examine the gold oval.

“Very nice, Harry, it looks just like Fawkes, and I can feel the magic in it. I am sure whoever gave this to you is someone you could call a friend,” Dumbledore leaned in as if closely examining the medallion. “Be very vigilante during dinner, Harry,” he whispered.

Harry nodded slightly and moved back to his seat, tucking the medallion inside his robes.

“Severus also received a mysterious gift, Harry,” Professor Dumbledore looked down the table.

“Yes, Potter, I am in receipt of a beautifully crafted Pensieve, also from an unnamed giver,” the Potion Master acknowledge, looking across the table.

Harry dropped his eyes to his plate, avoiding the probing black eyes. “That sounds lovely, Professor.”

With a wave of the Headmaster’s hand, platter after platter of delicious food appeared in front of them and the conversation dwindled as everyone helped themselves. Harry filled his plate with turkey, roast beef, mashed potatoes, and creamy gravy. He ate slowly, listening to the murmurs of appreciation as everyone ate. Everything was wonderful, and conversation slowly started up around him again, but Harry was content to listen instead of participate.

Looking forward to the puddings and Christmas crackers that would appear next, Harry sat back to savor what he had eaten, when he felt the man on his left slap his arm sharply.

“Oh, I am sorry, Potter.” Warmuth sneered at him. “Didn’t mean to bump into you.”

A searing pain pulsated out from the point when the man had hit him, and Harry knew immediately something was wrong. Rage flashed through him at the unmitigated gall of the Death Eater. With a wave of his hand, Harry threw the man from the table and slammed him into the wall of the room. Mrs. Weasley screamed as Warmuth slide to the floor.

Harry was up, stripping his robes off as he stalked toward the terrified spy. “What poison did you just hit me with?” He demanded as he cast a binding spell with a snap of his fingers, still struggling to strip off his shirt. His left shoulder was on fire, his left arm started to tingle painfully. “What did you use?” Harry reached down with his right hand and grabbed the front of the man’s robes, and hauled him to his feet.

The cold face screwed up into a maniacal snarl. “A very fast acting poison of hellebore and snake venom. The Dark Lord’s own invention, Potter, and you will be dead in minutes!”

Harry threw the man away from him, stripped to the waist now, the golden medallion gleaming in the candle light. His vision was narrowing, like he was looking through a dark tunnel, and the Great Hall began to spin around him as pain seared through his left side. Blackness enveloped him.